Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
our signs of joy, speedily banished all doubt of our being friends. We
were in the port, and approaching the landing-place, when the rumour
spread that Bonaparte was on board one of the frigates. In an instant
the sea was covered with boats. In vain we begged them to keep at a
distance; we were carried ashore, and when we told the crowd, both of
men and women who were pressing about us, the risk they ran, they all
exclaimed, "We prefer the plague to the Austrians!"
What were our feelings when we again set foot on the soil of France
I will not attempt to describe. Our escape from the dangers that
threatened us seemed almost miraculous. We had lost twenty days at the
beginning of our voyage, and at its close had been almost taken by an
English squadron. Under these circumstances, how rapturously we inhaled
the balmy air of Provence! Such was our joy, that we were scarcely
sensible of the disheartening news which arrived from all quarters.
At the first moment of our arrival, by a spontaneous impulse, we all
repeated, with tears in our eyes, the beautiful lines which Voltaire has
put into the mouth of the exile of Sicily.
Bonaparte has been reproached with having violated the sanitary laws;
but, after what I have already stated respecting his intentions, I
presume there can remain no doubt of the falsehood of this accusation.
All the blame must rest with the inhabitants of Fréjus, who on this
occasion found the law of necessity more imperious than the sanitary
laws. Yet when it is considered that four or five hundred persons, and
a quantity of effects, were landed from Alexandria, where the plague had
been raging during the summer, it is almost a miracle that France, and
indeed Europe escaped the scourge.
CHAPTER XXII.
1799.
Effect produced by Bonaparte's return--His justification--
Melancholy letter to my wife--Bonaparte's intended dinner at Sens--
Louis Bonaparte and Josephine--He changes his intended route--
Melancholy situation of the provinces--Necessity of a change--
Bonaparte's ambitious views--Influence of popular applause--
Arrival in Paris--His reception of Josephine--Their reconciliation--
Bonaparte's visit to the Directory--His contemptuous treatment of
Sieyès.
The effect produced in France and throughout Europe by the mere
intelligence of Bonaparte's return is well known. I shall not yet speak
of the vast train of consequences which that event entailed. I must,
however, notice some accusations which were brought against him from the
time of our landing to the 9th of November. He was reproached for having
left Egypt, and it was alleged that his departure was the result of long
premeditation. But I, who was constantly with him, am enabled positively
to affirm that his return to France was merely the effect of a sudden
resolution. Of this the following fact is in itself sufficient evidence.
While we were at Cairo, a few days before we heard of the landing of
the Anglo-Turkish fleet, and at the moment when we were on the point of
setting off to encamp at the Pyramids, Bonaparte despatched a courier
to France. I took advantage of this opportunity to write to my wife.
I almost bade her an eternal adieu. My letter breathed expressions of
grief such as I had not before evinced. I said, among other things, that
we knew not when or how it would be possible for us to return to France.
If Bonaparte had then entertained any thought of a speedy return I must
have known it, and in that case I should not certainly have distressed
my family by a desponding letter, when I had not had an opportunity of
writing for seven months before.
Two days after the receipt of my letter my wife was awoke very early
in the morning to be informed of our arrival in France. The courier who
brought this intelligence was the bearer of a second letter from me,
which I had written on board ship, and dated from Fréjus. In this letter
I mentioned that Bonaparte would pass through Sens and dine with my
mother.
In fulfilment of my directions Madame de Bourrienne set off for Paris at
five in the morning. Having passed the first post-house she met a Berlin
containing four travellers, among whom she recognised Louis Bonaparte
going to meet the General on the Lyons road. On seeing Madame de
Bourrienne Louis desired the postillion to stop, and asked her whether
she had heard from me. She informed him that we should pass through
Sens, where the General wished to dine with my mother, who had made
every preparation for receiving him. Louis then continued his journey.
About nine o'clock my wife met another Berlin, in which were Madame
Bonaparte and her daughter. As they were asleep, and both carriages were
driving at a very rapid rate, Madame de Bourrienne did not stop them.
Josephine followed the route taken by Louis. Both missed the General,
who changed his mind at Lyons, and proceeded by way of Bourbonnais.
He arrived fifteen hours after my wife; and those who had taken the
Burgundy road proceeded to Lyons uselessly.
Determined to repair in all haste to Paris, Bonaparte had left Fréjus on
the afternoon of the day of our landing. He himself had despatched the
courier to Sens to inform my mother of his intended visit to her; and it
was not until he got to Lyons that he determined to take the Bourbonnais
road. His reason for doing so will presently be seen. All along the
road, at Aix, at Lyons, in every town and village, he was received, as
at Fréjus, with the most rapturous demonstrations of joy.
--[From Fréjus to Aix a crowd of men kindly escorted us, carrying
torches alongside the carriage of the General, not so much to show
their enthusiasm as to ensure our safety (Bourrienne) These brigands
became so bad in France that at one time soldiers were placed in the
imperials of all the diligences, receiving from the wits the
curiously anticipative name of "imperial armies".]--
Only those who witnessed his triumphal journey can form any notion of
it; and it required no great discernment to foresee something like the
18th Brumaire.
The provinces, a prey to anarchy and civil war, were continually
threatened with foreign invasion. Almost all the south presented the
melancholy spectacle of one vast arena of conflicting factions. The
nation groaned beneath the yoke of tyrannical laws; despotism was
systematically established; the law of hostages struck a blow at
personal liberty, and forced loans menaced every man's property. The
generality of the citizens had declared themselves against a pentarchy
devoid of power, justice, and morality, and which had become the sport
of faction and intrigue. Disorder was general; but in the provinces
abuses were felt more sensibly than elsewhere. In great cities it was
found more easy to elude the hand of despotism and oppression.
A change so earnestly wished for could not fail to be realised, and to
be received with transport. The majority of the French people longed to
be relieved from the situation in which they then stood. There were two
dangers bar to cope with--anarchy and the Bourbons. Every one felt the
urgent and indispensable necessity of concentrating the power of
the Government in a single hand; at the same time maintaining the
institutions which the spirit of the age demanded, and which France,
after having so dearly purchased, was now about to lose. The country
looked for a man who was capable of restoring her to tranquillity; but
as yet no such man had appeared. A soldier of fortune presented himself,
covered with glory; he had planted the standard of France on the Capitol
and on the Pyramids. The whole world acknowledged his superior talent;
his character, his courage, and his victories had raised him to the very
highest rank. His great works, his gallant actions, his speeches, and
his proclamations ever since he had risen to eminence left no doubt of
his wish to secure happiness and freedom to France, his adopted country.
At that critical moment the necessity of a temporary dictatorship, which
sometimes secures the safety of a state, banished all reflections on
the consequences of such a power, and nobody seemed to think glory
incompatible with personal liberty. All eyes were therefore directed on
the General, whose past conduct guaranteed his capability of defending
the Republic abroad, and liberty at home,--on the General whom his
flatterers, and indeed some of his sincere friends, styled, "the hero of
liberal ideas," the title to which he aspired.
Under every point of view, therefore, he was naturally chosen as the
chief of a generous nation, confiding to him her destiny, in preference
to a troop of mean and fanatical hypocrites, who, under the names
of republicanism and liberty, had reduced France to the most abject
slavery.
Among the schemes which Bonaparte was incessantly revolving in his
mind may undoubtedly be ranked the project of attaining the head of
the French Government; but it would be a mistake to suppose that on
his return from Egypt he had formed any fixed plan. There was something
vague in his ambitious aspirations; and he was, if I may so express
myself, fond of building those imaginary edifices called castles in the
air. The current of events was in accordance with his wishes; and it may
truly be said that the whole French nation smoothed for Bonaparte the
road which led to power. Certainly the unanimous plaudits and universal
joy which accompanied him along a journey of more than 200 leagues must
have induced him to regard as a national mission that step which was at
first prompted merely by his wish of meddling with the affairs of the
Republic.
This spontaneous burst of popular feeling, unordered and unpaid for,
loudly proclaimed the grievances of the people, and their hope that
the man of victory would become their deliverer. The general enthusiasm
excited by the return of the conqueror of Egypt delighted him to a
degree which I cannot express, and was, as he has often assured me, a
powerful stimulus in urging him to the object to which the wishes of
France seemed to direct him.
Among people of all classes and opinions an 18th Brumaire was desired
and expected. Many royalists even believed that a change would prove
favourable to the King. So ready are we to persuade ourselves of the
reality of what we wish.
As soon as it was suspected that Bonaparte would accept the power
offered him, an outcry was raised about a conspiracy against the
Republic, and measures were sought for preserving it. But necessity,
and indeed, it must be confessed, the general feeling of the people,
consigned the execution of those measures to him who was to subvert the
Republic. On his return to Paris Bonaparte spoke and acted like a man
who felt his own power; he cared neither for flattery, dinners, nor
balls,--his mind took a higher flight.
We arrived in Paris on the 24th Vendemiaire (the 16th of October). As
yet he knew nothing of what was going on; for he had seen neither his
wife nor his brothers, who were looking for him on the Burgundy road.
The news of our landing at Fréjus had reached Paris by a telegraphic
despatch. Madame Bonaparte, who was dining with M. Gohier when that
despatch was communicated to him, as president of the Directory,
immediately set off to meet her husband, well knowing how important it
was that her first interview with him should not be anticipated by his
brothers.
The imprudent communications of Junot at the fountains of Messoudiah
will be remembered, but, after the first ebullition of jealous rage, all
traces of that feeling had apparently disappeared. Bonaparte however,
was still harassed by secret suspicion, and the painful impressions
produced by Junot were either not entirely effaced or were revived after