Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
which amounted almost to madness, impaired the feeble faculties with
which nature had endowed him. Some writers have ranked him in the class
of sentimental lovers: be this as it may, the homage which Berthier
rendered to the portrait of the object of his adoration more frequently
excited our merriment than our sensibility.
One day I went with an order from Bonaparte to the chief of his staff,
whom I found on his knees before the portrait of Madame Visconti, which
was hanging opposite the door. I touched him, to let him know I was
there. He grumbled a little, but did not get angry.
The moment was approaching when the two friends were to part, perhaps
forever. Bonaparte was sincerely distressed at this separation, and the
chief of his staff was informed of the fact. At a moment when it was
supposed Berthier was on his way to Alexandria, he presented himself
to the General-in-Chief. "You are, then, decidedly going to Asia?" said
he.--"You know," replied the General, "that all is ready, and I shall
set out in a few days."--"Well, I will not leave you. I voluntarily
renounce all idea of returning to France. I could not endure to forsake
you at a moment when you are going to encounter new dangers. Here are
my instructions and my passport." Bonaparte, highly pleased with this
resolution, embraced Berthier; and the coolness which had been excited
by his request to return home was succeeded by a sincere reconciliation.
Louis Bonaparte, who was suffering from the effects of the voyage, was
still at Alexandria. The General-in-Chief, yielding to the pacific views
of his younger brother, who was also beginning to evince some symptoms
of nostalgia, consented to his return home. He could not, however,
depart until the 11th of March 1799. I felt the absence of Louis very
much.
On his return to France Louis passed through Sens, where he dined with
Madame de Bourrienne, to whom he presented a beautiful shawl, which
General Berthier had given me. This, I believe, was the first Cashmere
that had ever been seen in France. Louis was much surprised when Madame
de Bourrienne showed him the Egyptian correspondence, which had been
seized by the English and printed in London. He found in the collection
some letters addressed to himself, and there were others, he said, which
were likely to disturb the peace of more than one family on the return
of the army.
On the 11th of February 1799 we began our march for Syria, with about
12,000 men. It has been erroneously stated that the army amounted to
only 6000: nearly that number was lost in the course of the campaign.
However, at the very moment we were on our way to Syria, with 12,000
men, scarcely as many being left in Egypt, the Directory published that,
"according to the information which had been received," we had 60,000
infantry and 10,000 cavalry; that the army had doubled its numbers by
battles; and that since our arrival in Egypt, we had lost only 300 men.
Is history to be written from such documents?
We arrived, about four o'clock in the afternoon, at Messoudiah, or, "the
Fortunate Spot." Here we witnessed a kind of phenomenon, which was not
a little agreeable to us. Messoudiah is a place situated on the coast of
the Mediterranean, surrounded with little dunes of very fine sand, which
the copious rains of winter readily penetrate. The rain remains in the
sand, so that on making with the fingers holes of four or five inches in
depth at the bottom of these little hills, the water immediately
flows out. This water was, indeed, rather thick, but its flavour was
agreeable; and it would have become clear if we could have spared time
to allow it to rest and deposit the particles of sand it contained.
It was a curious spectacle to behold us all lying prostrate, digging
wells in miniature; and displaying a laughable selfishness in our
endeavours to obtain the most abundant source. This was a very important
discovery to us. We found these sand-wells at the extremity of the
desert, and it contributed, in no small degree, to revive the courage of
our soldiers; besides, when men are, as was the case with us, subject to
privations of every kind, the least benefit which accrues inspires the
hope of a new advantage. We were approaching the confines of Syria, and
we enjoyed by anticipation, the pleasure we were about to experience, on
treading a soil which, by its variety of verdure and vegetation, would
remind us of our native land. At Messoudiah we likewise possessed the
advantage of bathing in the sea, which was not more than fifty paces
from our unexpected water-supply.
Whilst near the wells of Messoudiah, on the way to El-Arish, I one day
saw Bonaparte walking alone with Junot, as he was often in the habit of
doing. I stood at a little distance, and my eyes, I know not why, were
fixed on him during their conversation. The General's countenance, which
was always pale, had, without my being able to divine the cause, become
paler than usual. There was something convulsive in his features--a
wildness in his look, and he several times struck his head with his
hand. After conversing with Junot about a quarter of an hour he
quitted him and came towards me. I never saw him exhibit such an air
of dissatisfaction, or appear so much under the influence of some
prepossession. I advanced towards him, and as soon as we met, he
exclaimed in an abrupt and angry tone, "So! I find I cannot depend upon
you.--These women!--Josephine! --if you had loved me, you would
before now have told me all I have heard from Junot--he is a real
friend--Josephine!--and I 600 leagues from her--you ought to have told
me.--That she should thus have deceived me!--'Woe to them!--I
will exterminate the whole race of fops and puppies!--As to
her--divorce!--yes, divorce! a public and open divorce!--I must
write!--I know all!--It is your fault--you ought to have told me!"
These energetic and broken exclamations, his disturbed countenance
and altered voice informed me but too well of the subject of his
conversation with Junot. I saw that Junot had been drawn into a culpable
indiscretion; and that, if Josephine had committed any faults, he had
cruelly exaggerated them. My situation was one of extreme delicacy.
However, I had the good fortune to retain my self-possession, and as
soon as some degree of calmness succeeded to this first burst, I replied
that I knew nothing of the reports which Junot might have communicated
to him; that even if such reports, often the offspring of calumny, had
reached my ear, and if I had considered it my duty to inform him of
them, I certainly would not have selected for that purpose the moment
when he was 600 leagues from France. I also did not conceal how blamable
Junot's conduct appeared to me, and how ungenerous I considered it
thus rashly to accuse a woman who was not present to justify or defend
herself; that it was no great proof of attachment to add domestic
uneasiness to the anxiety, already sufficiently great, which the
situation of his brothers in arms, at the commencement of a hazardous
enterprise, occasioned him.
Notwithstanding these observations, which, however, he listened to with
some calmness, the word "divorce" still escaped his lips; and it is
necessary to be aware of the degree of irritation to which he was liable
when anything seriously vexed him, to be able to form an idea of what
Bonaparte was during this painful scene. However, I kept my ground. I
repeated what I had said. I begged of him to consider with what facility
tales were fabricated and circulated, and that gossip such as that which
had been repeated to him was only the amusement of idle persons; and
deserved the contempt of strong minds. I spoke of his glory. "My glory!"
cried he. "I know not what I would not give if that which Junot has
told me should be untrue; so much do I love Josephine! If she be really
guilty a divorce must separate us for ever. I will not submit to be a
laughing-stock for all the imbeciles in Paris. I will write to Joseph;
he will get the divorce declared."
Although his agitation continued long, intervals occurred in which he
was less excited. I seized one of these moments of comparative calm
to combat this idea of divorce which seemed to possess his mind. I
represented to him especially that it would be imprudent to write to his
brother with reference to a communication which was probably false. "The
letter might be intercepted; it would betray the feelings of irritation
which dictated it. As to a divorce, it would be time to think of that
hereafter, but advisedly."
These last words produced an effect on him which I could not have
ventured to hope for so speedily. He became tranquil, listened to me
as if he had suddenly felt the justice of my observations, dropped the
subject, and never returned to it; except that about a fortnight after,
when we were before St. Jean d'Acre, he expressed himself greatly
dissatisfied with Junot, and complained of the injury he had done him by
his indiscreet disclosures, which he began to regard as the inventions
of malignity. I perceived afterwards that he never pardoned Junot for
this indiscretion; and I can state, almost with certainty, that this was
one of the reasons why Junot was not created a marshal of France, like
many of his comrades whom Bonaparte had loved less. It may be supposed
that Josephine, who was afterwards informed by Bonaparte of Junot's
conversation, did not feel particularly interested in his favour. He
died insane on the 27th of July 1813.
--[However indiscreet Junot might on this occasion have shown
himself in interfering in so delicate a matter, it is pretty certain
that his suspicions were breathed to no other ear than that of
Bonaparte himself. Madame Junot, in speaking of the ill-suppressed
enmity between her husband and Madame Bonaparte, says that he never
uttered a word even to her of the subject of his conversation with
the General-in-Chief to Egypt. That Junot's testimony, however,
notwithstanding the countenance it obtained from Bonaparte's
relations, ought to be cautiously received, the following passage
from the Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantes, vol. i. p. 250,
demonstrative of the feelings of irritation between the parties,
will show:
"Junot escorted Madame Bonaparte when she went to join the
General-in-Chief in Italy. I am surprised that M. de Bourrienne
has omitted mentioning this circumstance in his Memoirs. He must
have known it, since he was well acquainted with everything
relating to Josephine, and knew many facts of high interest in her
life at this period and subsequently. How happens it too that he
makes no mention of Mademoiselle Louise, who might be called her
'demoiselle de compagnie' rather than her 'femme de chambre'? At
the outset of the journey to Italy she was such a favourite with
Josephine that she dressed like her mistress, ate at table with
her, and was in all respects her friend and confidante.
"The journey was long, much too long for Junot, though he was very
much in love with Mademoiselle Louise. But he was anxious to join
the army, for to him his General was always the dearest of
mistresses. Junot has often spoken to me, and to me alone, of the
vexations he experienced on this journey. He might have added to
his circumstantial details relative to Josephine the conversation he
is reported to have had with Bonaparte to Egypt; but he never
breathed a word on the subject, for his character was always noble
and generous. The journey to Italy did not produce the effect which
usually arises from such incidents in common life; namely, a closer
friendship and intimacy between the parties. On the contrary,