Retrospect--Buonaparte arrives in France--The Revolution of the
18th Brumaire--The Provisional Consulate.
We must now pause for a moment to indicate, however briefly and
imperfectly, the course of events which had determined Napoleon to
abandon the army of Egypt.
While the negotiations at Rastadt were still in progress, the Directory,
on the most flimsy of pretences, marched an army into Switzerland; and,
by vast superiority of numbers, overwhelmed the defence of the
unprepared mountaineers. The conquered cantons were formed into another
republic of the new kind--to wit, "the Helvetian:" nominally a sister
and ally, but really a slave of the French. Another force, acting under
orders equally unjustifiable, seized Turin, and dethroned the King of
Sardinia. Lastly, the Pope, in spite of all his humiliating concessions
at Tollentino, saw a republican insurrection, roused by French
instigation, within his capital. Tumults and bloodshed ensued; and
Joseph Buonaparte, the French ambassador, narrowly escaped with his
life. A French army forthwith advanced on Rome; the Pope's functions as
a temporal prince were terminated; he retired to the exile of Siena; and
another of those feeble phantoms, which the Directory delighted to
invest with glorious names, appeared under the title of "the Roman
Republic."
These outrages roused anew the indignation, the first, of all true
lovers of freedom, the second, of the monarchs whose representatives
were assembled at Rastadt, and the third, of the Catholic population
throughout Europe. England was not slow to take advantage of the
unprincipled rashness of the Directory, and of the sentiments which it
was fitted to inspire; and the result was a new coalition against
France, in which the great power of Russia now, for the first time, took
a part. The French plenipotentiaries were suddenly ordered to quit
Rastadt; and, within a few hours afterwards, they were murdered on their
journey by banditti clad in the Austrian uniform, most assuredly not
acting under orders from the Austrian government--and now commonly
believed to have been set on by certain angry intriguers of the
Luxembourg.
The King of Naples had, unfortunately for himself, a greater taste for
arms than the nation he governed; and, justly concluding that the
conquerors of Rome would make himself their next object, he rashly
proclaimed war, ere the general measures of the coalition were arranged.
The arrival of Nelson in his harbour, bringing the news of the
destruction of the French fleet at Aboukir, and the consequent isolation
of Napoleon, gave him courage to strike a blow which the officers of his
army were little likely to second. The result of his hasty advance to
the northwards was not a battle, but a flight: and though the Lazzaroni
of Naples, rising in fury, held the capital for some days against the
French, their defences were at length overcome; the king passed over to
his Sicilian dominions; and another tributary of France was announced by
the name of the Parthenopean Republic.
Far different success attended the better-considered movements by which
the great powers of the new coalition re-opened the war. The details of
those bloody campaigns by which Holland and Belgium were for a moment
rescued from the grasp of the Republic; Jourdan beaten beyond the Rhine
by the Archduke Charles; and the north of Italy, the whole of
Buonaparte's mighty conquests, recovered by the Austro-Russians under
Suwarrow; as also of the ultimate reverses of the allies in the
direction of Holland,--of the concentration of their forces in two great
armies, one on the frontier of Switzerland, and another lower down on
the Rhine, for the purpose of carrying the war by two inlets into the
heart of France--and finally, of the masterly retreat of Macdonald, by
which he succeeded in leading the army which had occupied Naples quite
through Italy into Provence;--all these details belong rather to the
general history of the period, than to the biography of Buonaparte.
Neither is it possible that we should here enter upon any minute account
of the internal affairs of France during the period of his Egyptian and
Syrian campaigns. It must suffice to say that the generally unfortunate
course of the war had been accompanied by the growth of popular
discontent at home; that the tottering Directory for a moment gathered
strength to themselves by associating Sieyes to their number; that the
mean and selfish conduct of the rulers soon nullified the results of
that partial change; that the Directory at length found it impossible to
maintain the favourite system of balancing faction against faction, and
so neutralising their efforts; in a word, that the _moderates_ (under
which name the royalists are included) had obtained a decided command in
the Council of Ancients, and the republicans, or democratical party, an
equally overpowering majority in the Assembly of the Five Hundred; while
the Directors, as a body, had no longer the slightest power to control
either. Finally, the Chouans (as the royalists of Bretagne were called)
had been stimulated by the disordered appearance of things at home and
abroad, and 40,000 insurgents appeared in arms, withstanding, with
varied success, the troops of the Republic, and threatening, by their
example, to rekindle a general civil war in France. Such was, or had
recently been, the state of affairs when Buonaparte landed at Frejus,
and sent before him to Paris, to the inexpressible delight of a nation
of late accustomed to hear of nothing but military disasters, the
intelligence of that splendid victory which had just destroyed the great
Turkish armament at Aboukir. He arrived at a moment when all men, of all
parties, were satisfied that a new revolution was at hand; and when the
leaders of all the contending factions were equally desirous of invoking
arms to their support in the inevitable struggle. Napoleon's voyage had
been one of constant peril; for the Mediterranean was traversed in all
directions by English ships of war, in whose presence resistance would
have been hopeless. He occupied his time, during this period of general
anxiety, in very peaceful studies: he read the Bible, the Koran, Homer;
conversed with his _savans_ on the old times and manners of the East;
and solved problems in geometry. He also spent many hours in playing at
the game of _vingt-un_; and M. de Bourienne says, that he never
hesitated to play unfairly when it suited his purpose, though he always
returned whatever he had gained on rising from the table. On the 30th of
September they reached Ajaccio, and he was received with enthusiasm at
the place of his birth. But, according to his own phrase, "it rained
cousins:" he was wearied with solicitations, and as soon as the wind
proved favourable, on the 7th of October, the voyage was resumed.
Gantheaume, descrying an English squadron off the French coast, would
have persuaded him to take to the long-boat; but he refused, saying,
"that experiment may be reserved for the last extremity." His confidence
in fortune was not belied. They passed at midnight, unseen, through the
English ships, and on the morning of the 9th were moored in safety in
the bay of Frejus; and no sooner was it known that Buonaparte was at
hand, than, in spite of all the laws of quarantine, persons of every
description, including the chief functionaries, both civil and military,
repaired on board to welcome him. He had looked forward with the utmost
disgust to a long quarantine: this dread was dissipated in a moment; the
deck was crowded with persons, crying aloud, "We prefer the plague to
the Austrians!" His presence alone was considered as the pledge of
victory. The story of Aboukir gave new fuel to the flame of universal
enthusiasm; and he landed, not so much like a general who had quitted
his post without orders, as a victorious prince, who had returned to
restore the lost hearts and fortunes of a people that confided only in
him. His progress towards the capital, wherever his person was
recognised, bore all the appearance of a triumphal procession. He
reached his own house, in the _Rue de la Victoire_, on the 16th October.
The trembling Directory received him, when he presented himself at the
Luxembourg, with every demonstration of joy and respect. Not a question
was asked as to his abandonment of his army; for all dreaded the answer
which they had the best reason for anticipating. He was invited to
accept of a public dinner, and agreed to do so. The assemblage was
magnificent, and his reception enthusiastic; but his demeanour was cold
and reserved. After proposing as a toast, "the union of all
parties"--ominous words from those lips--he withdrew at an early hour of
the evening.
He continued for some little time to avoid public notice, resuming
apparently the same studious and sequestered life which he had led when
last in Paris. It was, however, remarked that, when recognised by the
populace, he received their salutations with uncommon affability; and
that if he met any old soldier of the army of Italy, he rarely failed to
recollect the man, and take him by the hand.
Buonaparte had been tormented when in Egypt by certain rumours
concerning the conduct of Josephine in his absence from Paris. She had
quitted the capital with the purpose of meeting him on his journey
thither, the moment his arrival at Frejus was known; but taking the road
of Burgundy, while he was travelling by that of Lyons, missed him. When
she at length joined him in Paris, he received her with marked coldness;
but, after a few days, the intercessions and explanations of friends
restored harmony between them. He felt acutely, says De Bourienne, the
ill effects which a domestic fracas must produce at the moment when all
France was expecting him to take the chief part in some great political
revolution.
The universal enthusiasm which waited on his person at this crisis
appears to have at length given definite shape to his ambition. All
parties equally seemed to be weary of the Directory, and to demand the
decisive interference of the unrivalled soldier. The members of the
tottering government were divided bitterly among themselves; and the
_moderates_, with the Director Sieyes at their head, on the one side,
the _democrats_, under the Director Barras, on the other, were equally
disposed to invoke his assistance. He received the proposals of both
parties; and at length decided on closing with those of the former, as
consisting of a class of men less likely than the others to interfere
with his measures--when the new government, which he had determined
should be _his_, had been arranged. His brother Lucien, recently elected
President of the Council of Five Hundred--the acute and spirited Abbe
Sieyes, for whom, as "a man of systems," Buonaparte had formerly
manifested great repugnance, but who was now recommended effectually by
his supposed want of high ambition--and Fouche, minister of
police--these were his chief confidants; nor could any age or country
have furnished instruments more admirably qualified for his purpose.
Josephine, too, exerted indefatigably in his cause all the arts of
address, and contrived to neutralise by flattery many whom promises had
failed to gain. Meanwhile his house was frequented by the principal
officers who had accompanied him from Egypt, and by others who had
served in his Italian campaigns; and though no one pretended to say what
was about to happen, the impression became universal throughout Paris,
that some great and decisive event was at hand, and that it was to be
brought about by means of Buonaparte.
His friends at first busied themselves with schemes for making him one
of the directorial body; but the law, requiring that every candidate for
that office should be forty years of age, still subsisted; and this
presented an obstacle which Napoleon chose rather to avoid than to
overcome. The conspirators in his confidence were from day to day more
numerous, and, before he had been three weeks in Paris, audacity reached
its height. "During this crisis" (writes Bourienne) "there occurred
nothing a whit more elevated, more grand, more noble, than had been
observed in our preceding revolutionary commotions. In these political
intrigues, all is so despicable--so made up of trickery, lying, spying,
treachery, and impudence--that for the honour of human nature the
details ought to be buried under an eternal veil."
Sieyes governed absolutely one of his colleagues in the Directory,
Ducos; and the party of which he was the chief predominated strongly, as
has been mentioned, in the Council of Ancients. It was through the
instrumentality of that council, accordingly, that the conspirators
resolved to strike their first blow. And how well their measures had
been preconcerted, will sufficiently appear from the most naked
statement of the events of the 18th and 19th Brumaire (Nov. 10 and 11,
1799), in the order of their occurrence.
As soon as Buonaparte's arrival was known, three regiments of dragoons,
forming part of the garrison of Paris, petitioned for the honour of
being reviewed by him. He had promised to do this, but delayed naming
the day. In like manner the forty adjutants of the National Guard of
Paris (which, as we have seen, was remodelled by himself while General
of the Interior) had requested leave to wait upon him, and congratulate
him on his arrival: these also had been told that he would soon appoint
the time for receiving them. Lastly, the officers of the garrison, and
many besides, had sent to beg admittance to Napoleon's presence, that
they might tender him the expression of their admiration and attachment;
and to them also an answer of the same kind had been given.
On the evening of the 17th Brumaire all the officers above-mentioned
received, separately, the General's invitation to come to his house in
the _Rue de la Victoire_, at six o'clock the next morning; and the three
regiments of dragoons were desired to be mounted for their review, at
the same early hour, in the _Champs Elysees_. How many of these persons
knew the real purpose of the assemblage it is impossible to tell; but
Moreau, Macdonald, and other generals of the first reputation, avowedly
attached to the _moderes_, were in the number of those who
attended,--having, it is not to be doubted, received sufficient
intimation that the crisis was at hand, though not of the manner in
which Buonaparte designed it to terminate. However, at the appointed
hour, the dragoons were at their post in the Champs Elysees; and the
concourse of officers at Napoleon's residence was so great that, the
house being small, he received them in the courtyard before it, which
they entirely filled.
Among those who came thither was Bernadotte; but he certainly came
without any precise notion of the purposes of his friend Joseph
Buonaparte, who invited him. He was, next to Napoleon, the general who
possessed the greatest influence at the period in Paris; in fact, the
fate of the government depended on whether the one party in the
Directory should be the first to summon him to interfere, or the others
to throw themselves on Buonaparte. He came; but, unlike the rest, he
came _not_ in uniform, nor on horseback. Being introduced into
Napoleon's private chamber, he was informed, with little preface, that a
change in the government was necessary, and about to be effected that
very day. Bernadette had already been tampered with by Sieyes and Ducos,
and he rejected Napoleon's flatteries as he had theirs. It was well
known to Buonaparte that, had this great officer's advice been taken, he
would, immediately on his arrival from Egypt, have been arrested as a
deserter of his post: he in vain endeavoured now to procure his
co-operation; and at last suffered him to depart, having with difficulty
extorted a promise, that he would not, at least, do anything against him
_as a citizen_. It will soon be seen that he could have little reason to
apprehend Bernadotte' s interference in his military capacity.
In effect the Council of the Ancients assembled the same morning, in the
Tuileries, at the early hour of seven; one of the conspirators forthwith
declared that the salvation of the state demanded vigorous measures,
and proposed two decrees for their acceptance; one by which the meetings
of the legislative bodies should be instantly transferred to the Chateau
of St. Cloud, some miles from Paris: and another investing Napoleon with
the supreme command of all the troops in and about the capital,
including the National Guard. These motions were instantly carried; and,
in the course of a few minutes, Buonaparte received, in the midst of his
martial company, the announcement of his new authority. He instantly
mounted and rode to the Tuileries, where, being introduced into the
council, together with all his staff, he pronounced those memorable
words--"You are the wisdom of the nation: I come, surrounded by the
generals of the Republic, to promise you their support. Let us not lose
time in looking for precedents. Nothing in history resembled the close
of the eighteenth century--nothing in the eighteenth century resembled
this moment. Your wisdom has devised the necessary measure; our arms
shall put it in execution." Care had been taken to send no summons to
the members of the council whom the conspirators considered as decidedly
hostile to their schemes; yet several began to murmur loudly at this
tone. "I come," resumed Napoleon, sternly, "I come accompanied by the
God of War and the God of Fortune." His friends were alarmed lest this
violence should produce some violent re-action in the assembly, and
prevailed on him to withdraw. "_Let those that love me follow me_" said
he, and was immediately on horseback again. "In truth," says De
Bourienne, "I know not what would have happened, had the President, when
he saw the General retiring, exclaimed, _Grenadiers, let no one go out_:
it is my conviction that, instead of sleeping the day after at the
Luxembourg, he would have ended his career on the _Place de la
Revolution_."
The command entrusted to Napoleon was forthwith announced to the
soldiery; and they received the intelligence with enthusiasm--the mass
of course little comprehending to what, at such a moment, such authority
amounted.
The three Directors, meanwhile, who were not in the secret, and who had
been much amused with seeing their colleague Sieyes set off on horseback
an hour or two earlier from the Luxembourg, had begun to understand
what that timely exhibition of the Abbe's awkward horsemanship
portended. One of them, Moulins, proposed to send a battalion to
surround Buonaparte's house and arrest him. Their own guard laughed at
them. Buonaparte was already in the Tuileries, with many troops around
him; and the Directorial Guard, being summoned by one of his
aides-de-camp, instantly marched thither also, leaving the Luxembourg at
his mercy. Barras sent his secretary to expostulate. Napoleon received
him with haughtiness. "What have you done," cried he, "for that fair
France which I left you so prosperous? For peace I find war; for the
wealth of Italy, taxation and misery. Where are the 100,000 brave French
whom I knew--where are the companions of my glory?--They are dead."
Barras, who well knew that Buonaparte would never forgive him for having
boasted that the conqueror of Italy and Egypt owed everything to his
early favour, and whose infamous personal conduct in the articles of
bribery and exaction made him tremble at the thought of impeachment,
resigned his office: so did his colleagues, Gohier and Moulins. Sieyes
and Ducos had done so already. Bernadotte, indeed, repaired to the
Luxembourg ere Moulins and Gohier had resigned, and offered his sword
and influence, provided they would nominate him to the command of the
forces jointly with Napoleon. They hesitated: his word of honour given
to Buonaparte, that he would do nothing _as a citizen_, rendered it
indispensable that they should take that decisive step; by doing so they
would at least have given the soldiery a fair choice--they
hesitated--and their power was at an end. The Luxembourg was immediately
guarded by troops in whom Napoleon could place implicit confidence. The
Directory was no more.
Barras, in his letter, said that "he had undertaken his office solely
for the purpose of serving the cause of liberty, _and_ that now, seeing
the destinies of the Republic in the hands of her young and invincible
general, he gladly resigned it." By this courtly acquiescence he
purchased indemnity for the past, and the liberty of retiring to his
country-seat, there to enjoy the vast fortune he had so scandalously
accumulated. The other two remained for the present under surveillance.
At ten o'clock on the same morning, the adverse Council of Five Hundred
assembled also, and heard, with astonishment and indignation, of the
decree by which their sittings were transferred from Paris (the scene of
their popular influence) to St. Cloud. They had, however, no means of
disputing that point: they parted with cries of "_Vive la Republique!
Vive la Constitution!_" and incited the mob, their allies, to muster
next morning on the new scene of action--where, it was evident, this
military revolution must either be turned back, or pushed to
consummation. During the rest of the day, Napoleon remained at the
Tuileries: the troops were in arms; the population expected with
breathless anxiety the coming of the decisive day. A strong body of
soldiery marched to St. Cloud under the orders of Murat.
The members of both assemblies repaired thither early in the morning of
the 19th; and those of the opposite party beheld with dismay the
military investment of the Chateau. Scattered in groups about the courts
and gardens, surrounded with the mob from the city, and watched by Murat
and his stern veterans, they awaited with impatience the opening of the
doors; which, in consequence of some necessary preparations, did not
occur until two o'clock in the afternoon.
The Council of Ancients were ushered into the Gallery of Mars, and, the
minority having by this time recovered from their surprise, a stormy
debate forthwith commenced touching the events of the preceding day.
Buonaparte entered the room, and, by permission of the subservient
president, addressed the assembly. "Citizens," said he, "you stand over
a volcano. Let a soldier tell the truth frankly. I was quiet in my home
when this council summoned me to action. I obeyed: I collected my brave
comrades, and placed the arms of my country at the service of you who
are its head. We are repaid with calumnies--they talk of Cromwell--of
Caesar. Had I aspired at power the opportunity was mine ere now. I swear
that France holds no more devoted patriot. Dangers surround us. Let us
not hazard the advantages for which we have paid so dearly--Liberty and
Equality!--"
A democratic member, Linglet, added aloud--"and the Constitution--"
"The Constitution!" continued Napoleon, "it has been thrice violated
already--all parties have invoked it--each in turn has trampled on it:
since that can be preserved no longer, let us, at least, save its
foundations--Liberty and Equality. It is on you only that I rely. The
Council of Five Hundred would restore the Convention, the popular
tumults, the scaffolds, the reign of terror. I will save you from such
horrors--I and my brave comrades, whose swords and caps I see at the
door of this hall; and if any hireling prater talks of outlawry, to
those swords shall I appeal." The great majority were with him, and he
left them amidst loud cries of "_Vive Buonaparte!_"
A far different scene was passing in the hostile assembly of the Five
Hundred. When its members at length found their way into the Orangery,
the apartment allotted for them, a tumultuous clamour arose on every
side. _Live the Constitution! The Constitution or death! Down with the
Dictator!_--such were the ominous cries. Lucien Buonaparte, the
president, in vain attempted to restore order: the _moderate_ orators of
the council, with equal ill success, endeavoured to gain a hearing. A
_democrat_ member at length obtained a moment's silence, and proposed
that the council should renew, man by man, the oath of fidelity to the
Constitution of the year _three_. This was assented to, and a vain
ceremony, for it was no more, occupied time which might have been turned
to far different account. Overpowered, however, by the clamour, the best
friends of Napoleon, even his brother Lucien, took the oath. The
resignatory letter of Barras was then handed in, and received with a
shout of scorn. The moment was come; Napoleon, himself, accompanied by
four grenadiers, walked into the chamber--the doors remained open, and
plumes and swords were visible in dense array behind him. His grenadiers
halted near the door, and he advanced alone towards the centre of the
gallery. Then arose a fierce outcry--_Drawn swords in the sanctuary of
the laws! Outlawry! Outlawry! Let him be proclaimed a traitor! Was it
for this you gained so many victories?_ Many members rushed upon the
intruder, and, if we may place confidence in his own tale, a Corsican
deputy, by name, Arena, aimed a dagger at his throat. At all events
there was such an appearance of personal danger as fired the grenadiers
behind him. They rushed forwards, and extricated him almost breathless;
and one of their number (Thome) was at least rewarded on the score of
his having received a wound meant for the General.
It seems to be admitted that at this moment the iron nerves of
Buonaparte were, for once, shaken. With the dangers of the field he was
familiar--in order to depict the perfect coolness of his demeanour
during the greater part of this very day, his secretary says--"_he was
as calm as at the opening of a great battle_;" but he had not been
prepared for the manifestations of this civil rage. He came out,
staggering and stammering, among the soldiery, and said, "I offered them
victory and fame, and they have answered me with daggers."
Sieyes, an experienced observer of such scenes, was still on horseback
in the court, and quickly re-assured him. General Augereau came up but a
moment afterwards, and said, "You have brought yourself into a pretty
situation." "Augereau," answered Napoleon (once more himself again),
"things were worse at Arcola. Be quiet: all this will soon right
itself." He then harangued the soldiery. "I have led you to victory, to
fame, to glory. Can I count upon you?" "Yes, yes, we swear it" (was the
answer that burst from every line), "_Vive Buonaparte!_"
In the council, meantime, the commotion had increased on the retreat of
Napoleon. A general cry arose for a sentence of outlawry against him;
and Lucien, the President, in vain appealed to the feelings of nature,
demanding that, instead of being obliged to put that question to the
vote, he might be heard as the advocate of his brother. He was
clamorously refused, and in indignation flung off the insignia of his
office. Some grenadiers once more entered, and carried him also out of
the place.
Lucien found the soldiery without in a high state of excitement. He
immediately got upon horseback, that he might be seen and heard the
better, and exclaimed: "General Buonaparte, and you, soldiers of France,
the President of the Council of Five Hundred announces to you that
factious men with daggers interrupt the deliberations of the senate. He
authorises you to employ force. The Assembly of Five Hundred is
dissolved."
Napoleon desired Le Clerc to execute the orders of the President, and
he, with a detachment of grenadiers, forthwith marched into the hall.
Amidst the reiterated screams of "_Vive la Republique_" which saluted
their entrance, an aide-de-camp mounted the tribune, and bade the
assembly disperse. "Such," said he, "are the orders of the General."
Some obeyed; others renewed their shouting. The drums drowned their
voices. "Forward, grenadiers," said Le Clerc; and the men, levelling
their pieces as if for the charge, advanced. When the bristling line of
bayonets at length drew near, the deputies lost heart, and the greater
part of them, tearing off their scarfs, made their escape, with very
undignified rapidity, by way of the windows. The apartment was cleared.
It was thus that Buonaparte, like Cromwell before him,
"Turn'd out the members, and made fast the door."[31]
Some of his military associates proposed to him that the unfriendly
legislators should be shot, man by man, as they retreated through the
gardens; but to this he would not for a moment listen.
Lucien Buonaparte now collected the _moderate_ members of the Council of
Five Hundred; and that small minority, assuming the character of the
assembly, communicated with the Ancients on such terms of mutual
understanding, that there was no longer any difficulty about giving the
desired colouring to the events of the day. It was announced by
proclamation, that a scene of violence and uproar, and the daggers and
pistols of a band of conspirators, in the Council of Five Hundred, had
suggested the measures ultimately resorted to. These were--the
adjournment of the two councils until the middle of February next
ensuing; and the deposition, meantime, of the whole authority of the
state in a provisional _consulate_--the consuls being Napoleon
Buonaparte, Sieyes, and Ducos.
Thus terminated the 19th of Brumaire. One of the greatest revolutions on
record in the history of the world was accomplished, by means of swords
and bayonets unquestionably, but still without any effusion of blood.
From that hour the fate of France was determined. The Abbe Sieyes,
Talleyrand, and other eminent civilians, who had a hand in this great
day's proceedings, had never doubted that, under the new state of things
to which it should lead, they were to have the chief management of the
civil concerns of France. The ambition of Buonaparte, they questioned
not, would be satisfied with the control of the armies and military
establishments of the Republic. But they reckoned without their host.
Next day the three consuls met in Paris; and a lengthened discussion
arose touching the internal condition and foreign relations of France,
and the measures not only of war, but of finance and diplomacy, to be
resorted to. To the astonishment of Sieyes, Napoleon entered readily and
largely upon such topics, showed perfect familiarity with them in their
minutest details, and suggested resolutions which it was impossible not
to approve. "Gentlemen," said the Abbe, on reaching his own house, where
Talleyrand and the others expected him--and it is easy so imagine the
sensations with which Sieyes spoke the words, and Talleyrand heard
them--"Gentlemen, I perceive that you have got a master. Buonaparte can
do, and will do, everything himself. But" (he added, after a pause) "it
is better to submit than to protract dissension for ever."
Buonaparte sent word next morning to _Gohier_ and _Moulins_ that they
were at liberty. These ex-Directors were in haste to seclude themselves
from public view; and the new ruler took possession the same evening of
the Palace of the Luxembourg.
[Footnote 31: Crabbe.]