Napoleon at Rastadt--He arrives in Paris--His reception by the
Directory--His Conduct and Manners--He is appointed to command the
Army for the Invasion of England--He recommends an Expedition to
Egypt--Reaches Toulon--Embarks.
Napoleon was received by the ministers assembled at Rastadt with the
respect due to the extraordinary talents which he had already displayed
in negotiation as well as in war. But he stayed among them only two or
three days, for he perceived that the multiplicity of minor arrangements
to be discussed and settled, must, if he seriously entered upon them,
involve the necessity of a long-protracted residence at Rastadt; and he
had many reasons for desiring to be quickly in Paris. His personal
relations with the Directory were of a very doubtful kind, and he
earnestly wished to study with his own eyes the position in which the
government stood towards the various orders of society in the
all-influential capital. He abandoned the conduct of the diplomatic
business to his colleagues, and reached Paris at the beginning of
December. Nor was he without a feasible pretext for this rapidity. On
the 2nd of October, the Directory had announced to the French people
their purpose to carry the war with the English into England itself; the
immediate organisation of a great invading army; and their design to
place it under the command of "Citizen General Buonaparte."
During his brief stay at Rastadt the dictator of Campo-Formio once more
broke out. The Swedish envoy was Count Fersen, the same nobleman who had
distinguished himself in Paris, during the early period of the
Revolution, by his devotion to King Louis and Marie-Antoinette.
Buonaparte refused peremptorily to enter into any negotiation in which a
man, so well known for his hostility to the cause of the Republic,
should have any part; and Fersen instantly withdrew.
On quitting this congress Napoleon was careful to resume, in every
particular, the appearance of a private citizen. Reaching Paris, he
took up his residence in the same small modest house that he had
occupied before he set out for Italy, in the _Rue Chantereine_, which,
about this time, in compliment to its illustrious inhabitant, received
from the municipality the new name of _Rue de la Victoire_. Here he
resumed with his plain clothes his favourite studies and pursuits, and,
apparently contented with the society of his private friends, seemed to
avoid, as carefully as others in his situation might have courted, the
honours of popular distinction and applause. It was not immediately
known that he was in Paris, and when he walked the streets his person
was rarely recognised by the multitude. His mode of life was necessarily
somewhat different from what it had been when he was both poor and
obscure; his society was courted in the highest circles, and he from
time to time appeared in them, and received company at home with the
elegance of hospitality over which Josephine was so well qualified to
preside. But policy as well as pride moved him to shun notoriety. Before
he could act again, he had much to observe; and he knew himself too well
to be flattered by the stare either of mobs or of saloons. "They have
memories for nothing here"--he said at this time to his secretary--"if I
remain long without doing anything, I am done. Fame chases fame in this
great Babylon. If they had seen me three times at the spectacle, they
would no longer look at me." Another day Bourienne could not help
congratulating him on some noisy demonstration of popular favour. "Bah!"
he answered, "they would rush as eagerly about me if I were on my way to
the scaffold."
In his intercourse with society at this period, he was, for the most
part, remarkable for the cold reserve of his manners. He had the
appearance of one too much occupied with serious designs, to be able to
relax at will into the easy play of ordinary conversation. If his eye
was on every man, he well knew that every man's eye was upon him; nor,
perhaps, could he have chosen a better method (had that been his sole
object) for prolonging and strengthening the impression his greatness
was calculated to create, than this very exhibition of indifference. He
did not suffer his person to be familiarised out of reverence. When he
did appear, it was not the ball or _bon mot_ of the evening before, that
he recalled:--he was still, wherever he went, the Buonaparte of Lodi,
and Arcola, and Rivoli. His military bluntness disdained to disguise
itself amidst those circles where a meaner _parvenu_ would have been
most ambitious to shine. The celebrated daughter of Necker made many
efforts to catch his fancy and enlist him among the votaries of her wit,
which then gave law in Paris. "Whom," said she, half wearied with his
chillness, "do you consider as the greatest of women?" "Her, madam," he
answered, "who has borne the greatest number of children." From this
hour he had Madame de Stael for his enemy; and yet, such are the
inconsistencies of human nature, no man was more sensitive than he to
the assaults of a species of enemy whom he thus scorned to conciliate.
Throughout his Italian campaigns--as consul--as emperor--and down to the
last hour of the exile which terminated his life--Buonaparte suffered
himself to be annoyed by sarcasms and pamphlets as keenly and constantly
as if he had been a poetaster.
The haughtiness, for such it was considered, of his behaviour in the
society of the capital, was of a piece with what he had already
manifested in the camp. In the course of his first campaigns, his
officers, even of the highest rank, became sensible, by degrees, to a
total change of demeanour. An old acquaintance of the Toulon period,
joining the army, was about to throw himself into the general's arms
with the warmth of the former familiarity. Napoleon's cold eye checked
him; and he perceived in a moment how he had altered with his elevation.
He had always, on the other hand, affected much familiarity with the
common soldiery. He disdained not on occasion to share the ration or to
taste the flask of a sentinel; and the French private, often as
intelligent as those whom fortune has placed above him, used to address
the great general with even more frankness than his own captain.
Napoleon, in one of his Italian despatches, mentions to the Directory
the pleasure which he often derived from the conversation of the men:
"But yesterday," says he, "a common trooper addressed me as I was
riding, and told me he thought he could suggest the movement which ought
to be adopted. I listened to him, and heard him detail some operations
on which I had actually resolved but a little before." It has been
noticed (perhaps by over-nice speculators) as a part of the same
system, that Napoleon, on his return to Paris, continued to employ the
same tradespeople, however inferior in their several crafts, who had
served him in the days of his obscurity.[21]
If we may follow M. de Bourienne, Napoleon at this time laboured under
intense anxiety of mind. Conscious of the daring heights to which he had
ere now accustomed his ambitious imagination, he was fearful that others
had divined his secret, and was haunted with the perpetual dread that
some accident might unite Royalists and Republicans in the work of his
personal ruin.
The first public appearance of Buonaparte occurred (January 2, 1798)
when the treaty of Campo-Formio was to be formally presented to the
Directory. The great court of the Luxembourg was roofed over with flags;
an immense concourse, including all the members of the government and of
the two legislative bodies, expected the victorious negotiator; and when
he appeared, followed by his staff, and surrounded on all hands with the
trophies of his glorious campaign, the enthusiasm of the mighty
multitude, to the far greater part of which his person was, up to the
moment, entirely unknown, outleaped all bounds, and filled the already
jealous hearts of the directors with dark presentiments. They well knew
that the soldiery, returning from Italy, had sung and said through every
village that it was high time to get rid of the lawyers, and make the
"little corporal" king. With uneasy hearts did they hear what seemed too
like an echo of this cry, from the assembled leaders of opinion in Paris
and in France. Anxious curiosity and mutual distrust were written in
every face. The voice of Napoleon was for the first time heard in an
energetic speech, ascribing all the glories that had been achieved to
the zeal of the French soldiery--for "the glorious constitution of the
year THREE"--the same glorious constitution which, in the year _eight_,
was to receive the _coup de grace_ from his own hand; and Barras, as
presiding director, answering, that "Nature had exhausted all her powers
in the creation of a Buonaparte," awoke a new thunder of unwelcome
applauses.
Carnot had been exiled after the 18th Fructidor, and was at this time
actually believed to be dead. The institute nominated Buonaparte to fill
his place; and he was received by this learned body with enthusiasm not
inferior to that of the Luxembourg. He thenceforth adopted, on all
public occasions, the costume of this academy; and, laying aside as far
as was possible, the insignia of his military rank, seemed to desire
only the distinction of being classed with those whose scientific
attainments had done honour to their country. In all this he acted on
calculation. "I well knew," said he at St. Helena, "that there was not a
drummer in the army, but would respect me the more for believing me to
be not a mere soldier."
Some time before he left Italy, a motion had been made in one of the
chambers for rewarding him with a grant of the estate of Chambord, and
lost owing solely to the jealousy of the Directory. This opposition was
on their part unjust and unwise, and extremely unpopular also; for it
was known to all men that the general might easily have enriched himself
during his wonderful campaigns, and it was almost as generally believed
that he had brought with him to the _Rue de la Victoire_ only 100,000
crowns, saved from the fair allowances of his rank. No one who considers
the long series of intrigues which had passed between Buonaparte and the
party that triumphed in Fructidor, can doubt how he regarded this part
of their conduct. Every day confirmed them in their jealousy; nor did he
take much pains on the other hand to conceal his feelings towards them.
On many occasions they were willing to make use of him, although they
dreaded in so doing to furnish him with new proofs of the vast
superiority which he had reached in public opinion above themselves; and
he was, on his part, chary of acceding to any of their proposals.
On the 21st of January, the anniversary of the death of Louis XVI. was
to be celebrated, according to custom, as a great festival of the
Republican calendar; and, conscious how distasteful the observance had
by this time become to all persons capable of reflection, the government
would fain have diverted attention from themselves, by assigning a
prominent part in the ceremonial to him, on whom, as they knew, all eyes
were sure to be fixed whenever he made his appearance. Napoleon
penetrated their motives. He remonstrated against the ceremony
altogether, as perpetuating the memory of a deed, perhaps unavoidable,
but not the less to be regretted. He told them that it was unworthy of a
great Republic to triumph, year after year, in the shedding of an
individual enemy's blood. They answered by reminding him that the
Athenians and Romans of old recorded, in similar festivals, the downfall
of the Pisistratidae and the exile of the Tarquins. He _might_ have
replied, that it is easier for a nation to renounce Christianity in
name, than to obliterate altogether the traces of its humanising
influence. But this view did not as yet occur to Napoleon--or if it had,
could not have been promulgated to their conviction. He stood on the
impolicy of the barbarous ceremony; and was at length, with difficulty,
persuaded to appear in it as a private member of the institute, along
with the rest of that association. His refusal to be there as the great
general of the Republic annoyed the timid Directory; and yet, on his
being recognised in his civic dress, and pointed out to new myriads of
observers, the effect which the government had desired to produce was
brought about in spite of all Buonaparte's reluctance. The purpose of
the assemblage was almost forgotten: the clamours of the people
converted it into another fete for Napoleon.
It has already been said that as early as October, 1797, the Directory
announced their intention of committing an army, destined for the
invasion of England, to the conqueror of Italy. He wholly disapproved of
their rashness in breaking off the negotiations of the preceding summer
with the English envoy, Lord Malmesbury, and, above all, of the insolent
abruptness of that procedure.[22] But the die was cast; and he willingly
accepted the appointment now pressed upon him by the government, who, in
truth, were anxious about nothing so much as to occupy his mind with the
matters of his profession, and so prevent him from taking a prominent
part in the civil business of the state. Solely owing to his celebrity
two of his brothers were already distinguished members of the
legislative bodies; and there could be no doubt that the gates of either
would fly open for his own admission, if he chose it, on the next
election.
Whatever views of ulterior ambition might have opened themselves to
Napoleon at this period, he well knew that the hour was not yet come, in
which he could serve his purpose better than by the pursuit of his
military career. According to De Bourienne, he had for some time
flattered himself that the law, which prevented a person so young as he
from being a director, might be waived in his favour; not doubting, we
may conclude, that such colleagues as Barras and Rewbell would soon sink
into the mere ministers of his will: but the opposition to this scheme
was so determined that it was never permitted to be proposed openly. The
Directory were popular with no party; but there were many parties; and,
numerically, probably the royalists were the strongest. The pure
republicans were still powerful: the army of Italy was distant and
scattered; that of the Rhine, far more numerous, and equally well
disciplined, had its own generals--men not yet in reputation
immeasurably inferior to himself; and, having been less fortunate than
their brethren in Italy, and consequently acquired less wealth, it was
no wonder that the soldiery of the Rhine regarded the others, if not
their leader, with some little jealousy. In Napoleon's own language,
"the pear was not yet ripe."
He proceeded, therefore, to make a regular survey of the French coast
opposite to England, with the view of improving its fortifications, and
(ostensibly at least) of selecting the best points for embarking an
invading force. For this service he was eminently qualified; and many
local improvements of great importance, long afterwards effected, were
first suggested by him at this period. But, if he had really thought
otherwise beforehand (which M. de Bourienne denies), the result of his
examination was a perfect conviction that the time was not yet come for
invading England. He perceived that extensive and tedious preparations
were indispensable ere the French shipping on that coast could be put
into a condition for such an attempt; and the burst of loyalty which
the threat of invasion called forth in every part of Britain--the
devotion with which all classes of the people answered the appeal of the
government--the immense extent to which the regular and volunteer forces
were increased everywhere--these circumstances produced a strong
impression on his not less calculating than enterprising mind. He had
himself, in the course of the preceding autumn, suggested to the
minister for foreign affairs, the celebrated Talleyrand, the propriety
of making an effort against England in another quarter of the world:--of
seizing Malta, proceeding to occupy Egypt, and therein gaining at once a
territory capable of supplying to France the loss of her West Indian
colonies, and the means of annoying Great Britain in her Indian trade
and empire. To this scheme he now recurred: the East presented a field
of conquest and glory on which his imagination delighted to brood:
"Europe," said he, "is but a molehill, all the great glories have come
from Asia." The injustice of attacking the dominions of the Grand
Seignior, an old ally of France, formed but a trivial obstacle in the
eyes of the Directory: the professional opinion of Buonaparte that the
invasion of England, if attempted then, must fail, could not but carry
its due weight: the temptation of plundering Egypt and India was great;
and great, perhaps above all the rest, was the temptation of finding
employment for Napoleon at a distance from France. The Egyptian
expedition was determined on: but kept strictly secret. The attention of
England was still riveted on the coasts of Normandy and Picardy, between
which and Paris Buonaparte studiously divided his presence--while it was
on the borders of the Mediterranean that the ships and the troops really
destined for action were assembling.
Buonaparte, having rifled to such purpose the cabinets and galleries of
the Italian princes, was resolved not to lose the opportunity of
appropriating some of the rich antiquarian treasures of Egypt; nor was
it likely that he should undervalue the opportunities which his
expedition might afford, of extending the boundaries of science, by
careful observation of natural phenomena. He drew together therefore a
body of eminent artists and connoisseurs, under the direction of
_Monge_, who had managed his Italian collections: it was perhaps the
first time that a troop of _Savans_ (there were 100 of them) formed
part of the staff of an invading army.[23]
The various squadrons of the French fleet were now assembled at Toulon;
and everything seemed to be in readiness. Yet some time elapsed before
Napoleon joined the armament: and it is said by _Miot_ that he did all
he could to defer joining it as long as possible, in consequence of
certain obscure hopes which he had entertained of striking a blow at the
existing government, and remodelling it, to his own advantage, with the
assent, if not assistance, of Austria. This author adds that Barras,
having intercepted a letter of Buonaparte to Cobentzel, went to him late
one evening, and commanded him to join the fleet instantly, on pain of
being denounced as the enemy of the government; that the general ordered
his horses the same hour, and was on his way to Toulon ere midnight.
These circumstances may or may not be truly given. It is not doubtful
that the command of the Egyptian expedition was ultimately regarded,
both by Napoleon and the Directory, as a species of honourable
banishment. On reaching Toulon, Buonaparte called his army together, and
harangued them. "Rome," he said, "combated Carthage by sea as well as
land; and England was the Carthage of France.--He was come to lead them,
in the name of the Goddess of Liberty, across mighty seas, and into
remote regions, where their valour might achieve such glory and such
wealth as could never be looked for beneath the cold heavens of the
west. The meanest of his soldiers should receive seven acres of
land;"--_where_ he mentioned not. His promises had not hitherto been
vain. The soldiery heard him with joy, and prepared to obey with
alacrity.
The English government, meanwhile, although they had no suspicion of the
real destination of the armament, had not failed to observe what was
passing in Toulon. They probably believed that the ships there assembled
were meant to take part in the great scheme of the invasion of England.
However this might have been, they had sent a considerable reinforcement
to Nelson, who then commanded on the Mediterranean station; and he, at
the moment when Buonaparte reached Toulon, was cruising within sight of
the port. Napoleon well knew that to embark in the presence of Nelson
would be to rush into the jaws of ruin; and waited until some accident
should relieve him from his terrible watcher. On the evening of the 19th
of May fortune favoured him. A violent gale drove the English off the
coast, and disabled some ships so much that Nelson was obliged to go
into the harbours of Sardinia to have them repaired. The French general
instantly commanded the embarkation of all his troops; and as the last
of them got on board, the sun rose on the mighty armament: it was one of
those dazzling suns which the soldiery delighted afterwards to call "the
suns of Napoleon."
Seldom have the shores of the Mediterranean witnessed a nobler
spectacle. That unclouded sun rose on a semicircle of vessels, extending
in all to not less than six leagues: thirteen ships of the line and
fourteen frigates (under the command of Admiral Brueyes); and 400
transports. They carried 40,000 picked soldiers, and officers whose
names were only inferior to that of the general-in-chief;--of the men,
as well as of their leaders, the far greater part already accustomed to
follow Napoleon, and to consider his presence as the pledge of victory.
[Footnote 21: A silversmith, who had given him credit when he set out to
Italy for a dressing-case worth L50, was rewarded with all the business
which the recommendation of his now illustrious debtor could bring to
him; and, being clever in his trade, became ultimately, under the
patronage of the imperial household, one of the wealthiest citizens of
Paris. A little hatter, and a cobbler, who had served Buonaparte when a
subaltern, might have risen in the same manner, had their skill equalled
the silversmith's. Not even Napoleon's example could persuade the
Parisians to wear ill-shaped hats and clumsy boots; but he, in his own
person, adhered, to the last, to his original connection with these poor
artisans.]
[Footnote 22: The Directory broke off the negotiation in a most insolent
manner, by ordering Lord Malmesbury to quit France within twenty-four
hours: this they did in their exultation after the 18th Fructidor.]
[Footnote 23: Before leaving Paris, Buonaparte ordered his secretary to
prepare a camp library, of small volumes, arranged under the different
heads of Science, Geography and Travels, History, Poetry, Romance,
Politics. The "works on Politics" are six in number: viz. Montesquieu's
_Spirit of Laws_, a compendium of Mythology, the Vedam, the Koran, and
the Old and New Testaments--all in French.]