The French Revolution was now (1789–90) getting under full headway.
The States-General had met on May 5, 1789; the Third Estate had
asserted and made good its supremacy. The King having ordered up
troops and dismissed Necker, riots followed; the Bastille was taken
and demolished. The nobles who had persuaded Louis XVI. to adopt the
measures which provoked the riots, fled to foreign lands. Louis was
brought from Versailles to Paris, Bailly was made mayor of the city,
Lafayette commander of the National Guard, and on the night session of
August 4, feudalism, losing hope, offered itself up as a sacrifice to
the Revolution.
Liberty, fraternity, equality, freedom of conscience, liberty of the
press, were proclaimed; and the mighty movement which was shaking down
the Old Order was felt at Auxonne as in Paris. The officers, as a
rule, were for the King; the soldiers for the nation. Society ladies
and governmental officials were royalists, generally; so, also, the
higher clericals. The curés and the masses of the people were for the
Revolution.
Instinctively, and without the slightest hesitation, Napoleon took
sides with the nation. He needed no coercion, no change of heart; he
was already an enemy of the Ancien Régime, and had been so from his
first years in France.
“How does it happen that you, Napoleon, favor democracy? You are a
noble, educated at a school where none but nobles can enter; you are
an officer, a position none but nobles may hold; you wear the King’s
livery; you are fed on his bounty: where did you get your republican
principles?”
Supposing such a question to have been put, we can imagine the answer
to have been something like this:--
“I go with the reformers partly because I hate the Old Order, partly
because I see in the coming changes a chance for me to rise, and partly
because I believe the reformers are right. I have read books which
gave me new ideas; I have thought for myself, and reached conclusions
of my own. The stupid monk who threw my schoolboy essay into the fire
at Brienne because it criticised royalty, only stimulated my defiance
and my independence. I have seen what your system of education is,
and condemn it; have learnt what your nobles are, and detest them. I
have seen the Church, which preaches the beauties of poverty, rob my
family of a rich inheritance, and I loathe the hypocrisy. I have read
Rousseau, and believe in his gospel; have studied Raynal, and agree
that abuses must be reformed. I have looked into the conduct of kings,
and believe that there are few who do not deserve to be dethroned. The
privileged have combined, have closed the avenues of progress to the
lower classes, have taken for a few what is the common heritage of all.
The people are the source of power--those below not those above. I am
poor, I hate those above me, I long to be rich, powerful, admired. If
things remain as they are, I shall never be heard of: revolution will
change all. New men will rise to make the most of new opportunities.
Hence I am a Jacobin, a democrat, a republican--call it what you will.
I am for putting the premium on manhood. The tools to him who can use
them! As to the King’s uniform and bounty--bah!--you must take me for a
child. The King gives nothing, is nothing; the nation gives all, and is
everything. I go with the nation!”
With such thoughts fermenting in his head, Napoleon reached home,
and at once began to agitate the politics of the island. Corsica
was far out of the track of the Revolution, and the people had not
been maddened by the abuses which prevailed in France. The one great
national grievance in Corsica was French domination. Therefore to
arouse the island and put it in line with revolutionary France, was
a huge task. Nevertheless Napoleon and other young men set about
it. Copying the approved French method, he formed a revolutionary
committee, and began to organize a national guard. He became a violent
speaker in the Jacobin club, and a most active agitator in the town.
Soon the little city of Ajaccio was in commotion.
Paoli’s agents bestirred themselves throughout the island. In some
towns the patriot party rose against the French authorities. In Ajaccio
the royalist party proved the stronger. The French commandant, De
Barrin, closed the democratic club and proclaimed martial law. The
patriots met in one of the churches, on the night of October 31, 1789,
and signed a vigorous protest and appeal to the National Assembly of
France. This paper was written by Napoleon, and he was one of those who
signed.
Baulked in Ajaccio, Napoleon turned to Bastia, the capital. Agitating
there and distributing tricolored cockades which he had ordered
from Leghorn, he soon got matters so well advanced that he headed a
deputation which waited upon the royal commandant and demanded that
he, too, should adopt the national cockade. De Barrin, the commandant,
refused. A riot broke out, and he consented. Napoleon agitated for
a national guard. Deputations sought the governor and requested his
sanction. He refused. One morning the streets were thronged with
patriots, armed, marching to one of the churches to be enrolled. De
Barrin called out his troops, trained cannon on the church, and set his
columns in motion to attack. Shots were exchanged, two French soldiers
killed, two wounded, and an officer got a bullet in the groin. Several
Bastians, including two children, were wounded. De Barrin lost his
head, yielded at all points, and ordered six hundred guns delivered to
the insurgents. Prompt obedience not having been given to his order,
the Bastians broke into the citadel, armed themselves, and insisted
that they, jointly with the French, should garrison the fortress. When
quiet was restored, the governor ordered Napoleon to leave, and he did
so.
This episode in Napoleon’s career is related by an enemy of Napoleon,
and it is to be received with caution. Yet as it is a companion piece
to what he had attempted at Ajaccio, there is nothing violently
incredible about it. It is certain he was very active at that time, and
that he was often at Bastia. What was his purpose, if not to foment
revolutionary movements?
On November 30, 1789, the National Assembly of France decreed the
incorporation of Corsica with France, and amnesty for all political
offenders, including Paoli. Bonfires in Corsica and general joy greeted
the news. The triumph of the patriots was complete. A democratic town
government for Ajaccio was organized, a friend of Napoleon was chosen
mayor, and Joseph was put in place as secretary to the mayor. A local
guard was raised, and Napoleon served as private member of it. At the
club and on the streets he was one of the loudest agitators.
Paoli, now a hero in France as well as in Corsica, was called home
by these events, received a magnificent ovation from the French,
and reached Corsica, July, 1790. When he landed, after an exile of
twenty-one years, the old man knelt to the ground and kissed it.
Supported by the town government, Napoleon renewed his activity, the
immediate object aimed at being the capture of the citadel. He made
himself intensely disagreeable to the royalists. Upon one occasion,
during a religious procession, he was attacked by the Catholics, as an
enemy of the Church. His efforts to seize the citadel came to nothing.
There was an uprising of the revolutionists in the town, but the French
officials fled into the citadel and prepared to defend it. Napoleon
advised an attack, but the town authorities lost heart. They decided
not to fight, but to protest; and Napoleon drew up the paper.
The people of Corsica met in local district meetings and chose
delegates to an assembly which was to elect departmental and district
councils to govern the island. This general assembly met at Orezzo,
September 9, 1790, and remained in session a month. Among the delegates
were Joseph Bonaparte and Uncle Fesch. Napoleon attended and took an
active part in the various meetings which were held in connection with
the work of the assembly. He was a frequent speaker at these meetings,
and, while timid and awkward at first, soon became one of the most
popular orators.
It was while he was on his way to Orezzo, that Napoleon first met
Paoli. The old hero gave the young man a distinguished reception.
Attended by a large cavalcade, the two rode over the fatal field of
Ponte Nuovo. Paoli pointed out the various positions the troops had
occupied, and related the incidents of that lamentable day. Napoleon’s
comments, his peculiar and original thought and speech, struck Paoli
forcibly; and he is said to have remarked that Napoleon was not modern,
but reminded him of Plutarch’s heroes. Napoleon himself, when at St.
Helena, represents Paoli as often patting him on the head and making
the remark above mentioned.
The assembly at Orezzo voted that Corsica should constitute one
department, and that Paoli should be its president. He was also made
commander-in-chief of the National Guard. The conduct of Buttafuoco and
Peretti who had been representing Corsica in France, was condemned.
Pozzo di Borgo and Gentili were chosen to declare to the National
Assembly the loyalty of Corsica to the principles of the French
Revolution.
Napoleon had endeavored to secure the election of Joseph Bonaparte to
the general directory of the department. In this he failed, but Joseph
was chosen as one of the district directory for Ajaccio.
During the sitting of the convention Napoleon wiled away many an hour
in familiar intercourse with the peasantry. He visited them at their
huts, made himself at home by their firesides, and interested himself
in their affairs. He revived some of the old Corsican festivals, and
the target practice which had long been forbidden. Out of his own
purse he offered prizes for the best marksmen. In this manner he won
the hearts of the mountaineers--a popularity which was of value to him
soon afterward.
Returned to Ajaccio, Napoleon continued to take prominent part in the
debates of the club, and he also continued his efforts at authorship.
He threw off an impassioned “open letter” to Buttafuoco. This was his
first successful writing. With imperial pride, it is dated “from my
summer house of Milleli.” Stimulated perhaps by the applause with which
young Corsican patriots hailed his bitter and powerful arraignment of
a traitor, Napoleon ventured to compete for the prize which Raynal,
through the Academy of Lyons, had offered for the best essay on the
subject “_What truths and ideas should be inculcated in order best to
promote the happiness of mankind_.” His essay was severely criticised
by the learned professors, and its author, of course, failed of the
prize.
It was on the plea that his health was shattered, and that the waters
of Orezzo were good for his complaint, that Napoleon had been enabled
to prolong his stay in Corsica. In February, 1791, he rejoined his
regiment at Auxonne. His leave had expired long since, but his colonel
kindly antedated his return. Napoleon had procured false certificates,
to the effect that he had been kept in Corsica by storms. To ease his
mother’s burden, he brought with him his little brother Louis, now
twelve years old, whose support and schooling Napoleon proposed to take
upon himself. To maintain the two upon his slender pay of lieutenant
required the most rigorous economy. He avoided society, ate often
nothing but bread, carried on his own studies, and taught Louis. The
affectionate, fatherly, self-denying interest he took in the boy
beautifully illustrates the better side of his complex character.
During the Empire an officer, whose pay was $200 per month, complained
to Napoleon that it was not enough. The Emperor did not express the
contempt he felt, but spoke of the pittance upon which _he_ had been
made to live. “When I was lieutenant, I ate dry bread; but I shut the
door on my poverty.”
It was at Dôle, near Auxonne, that the letter to Buttafuoco was
printed. Napoleon used to rise early, walk to Dôle, correct the proofs,
and walk back to Auxonne, a distance of some twenty miles, before
dinner.
In June, 1791, Napoleon became first lieutenant, with a yearly salary
of about $260, and was transferred to the Fourth Regiment, stationed
at Valence. Glad of the promotion and the slight increase in salary,
he did not relish the transfer, and he applied for leave to remain at
Auxonne. Permission was refused, and he quitted the place, owing (for
a new uniform, a sword, and some wood) about $23. Several years passed
before he was able to pay off these debts.
Back in Valence, he again lodged with old Mademoiselle Bou, he and
Louis. He continued his studies, and continued to teach Louis. His
former friends were dead, or had moved away, and he did not go into
society as he had done before; his position was too dismal, his poverty
too real. He lived much in his room, reading, studying, composing.
Travels, histories, works which treated of politics, of ecclesiastical
affairs and institutions, attracted him specially. No longer seen
in elegant drawing-rooms, he was the life of the political club. He
became, successively, librarian, secretary, and president.
All this while the Revolution had been rolling on. The wealth of the
Church was confiscated. Paper money was issued. The Festival of the
Federation was solemnized. Necker lost his grip on the situation, and
fled. Mirabeau became the hope of the moderates. Danton, Robespierre,
Marat, became influential radicals. The Jacobin club rose to power.
There developed the great feud between the Church and the Revolution,
and factions began to shed blood in many parts of France. The old-maid
aunts of the King fled the realm, causing immense excitement.
In April, 1791, Mirabeau died. His alliance with the court not being
then known, his death called forth universal sorrow and memorial
services. At Valence the republican club held such a service, and
Napoleon is said to have delivered an address. Then came the flight of
the King to Varennes. Upon this event also the club at Valence passed
judgment, amid excitement and violent harangues.
In July, 1791, the national oath of allegiance to the new order
of things was taken at Valence with imposing ceremony, as it was
throughout the country. The constitution had not been finished; but the
French of that day had the faith which works wonders, and they took the
oath with boundless enthusiasm.
There was a monster meeting near Valence: a huge altar, a grand coming
together, on common ground, of dignitaries high and low, officials
of Church and State, citizens of all degrees. Patriotism for one
brief moment made them all members of one fond family. “We swear to
be faithful to the Nation, the law, and the King; to maintain the
constitution; and to remain united to all Frenchmen by the bonds of
brotherhood.” They all swore it, amid patriotic shouts, songs, cannon
thunder, band music, and universal ecstasy. Mass had begun the
ceremony, a _Te Deum_ ended it. At night there was a grand banquet, and
one of those who proposed a toast was Napoleon. Of course he was one of
those who had taken the oath.
“Previous to this time,” said he, later, “had I been ordered to fire
upon the people, habit, prejudice, education, and the King’s name would
have induced me to obey. With the taking of the national oath it was
otherwise; my instinct and my duty were henceforth in harmony.”
Kings and aristocrats throughout the world were turning black looks
upon France, and an invasion was threatened. The Revolution must be
put down. It was a fire which might spread. This threat of foreign
intervention had an electrical effect upon the French, rousing them to
resistance.
Paris was the storm centre, Napoleon was highly excited, and to Paris
he was most eager to go. Urgently he wrote to his great-uncle, the
archdeacon, to send him three hundred francs to pay his way to Paris.
“There one can push to the forefront. I feel assured of success. Will
you bar my road for the lack of a hundred crowns?” The archdeacon did
not send the money. Napoleon also wrote for six crowns his mother owed
him. The six crowns seem not to have been sent.
* * * * *
This anecdote of Napoleon’s sojourn at Valence is preserved by the
local gossips: Early one morning the surgeon of the regiment went to
Napoleon’s room to speak to Louis. Napoleon had long since risen, and
was reading. Louis was yet asleep. To arouse the lad, Napoleon took his
sabre and knocked with the scabbard on the ceiling above. Louis soon
came down, rubbing his eyes and complaining of having been waked in
the midst of a beautiful dream--a dream in which Louis had figured as a
king. “You a king!” said Napoleon; “I suppose I was an emperor then.”
The keenest pang Napoleon ever suffered from the ingratitude of those
he had favored, was given him by this same Louis, for whom he had acted
the devoted, self-denying father. Not only was Louis basely ungrateful
in the days of the Napoleonic prosperity, but he pursued his brother
with vindictive meanness when that brother lay dying at St. Helena,
publishing a libel on him so late as 1820.
A traveller in Corsica (Gregorovius, 1852) writes: “We sat around a
large table and regaled ourselves with an excellent supper.... A dim
olive-oil lamp lit the Homeric wanderers’ meal. Many a bumper was drunk
to the heroes of Corsica. We were of four nations,--Corsicans, French,
Germans, and Lombards. I once mentioned the name of Louis Bonaparte,
and asked a question. The company suddenly became silent, and the gay
Frenchman looked ashamed.”
* * * * *
In August, 1791, Napoleon obtained another furlough, and with about
$80, which he had borrowed from the paymaster of his regiment, he and
Louis set out for home. Again he left debts behind him, one of them
being his board bill.