Buonaparte the French Jacobin.
Reinstatement -- Further Solicitation -- Promotion --
Napoleon and Elisa -- Occupations in Paris -- Return to
Ajaccio -- Disorders in Corsica -- Buonaparte a French
Jacobin -- Expedition against Sardinia -- Course of French
Affairs -- Paoli's Changed Attitude -- Estrangement of
Buonaparte and Paoli -- Mischances in the Preparations
against Sardinia -- Failure of the French Detachment --
Buonaparte and the Fiasco of the Corsican Detachment -- His
Commission Lapses -- Further Developments in France --
Results of French Victory -- England's Policy -- Paoli in
Danger -- Denounced and Summoned to Paris.
[Sidenote: 1792-93.]
The committee to which Buonaparte's request for reinstatement was
referred made a report on June twenty-first, 1792, exonerating him
from blame. The reasons given were avowedly based on the
representations of the suppliant himself: first, that Duteil, the
inspector, had given him permission to sail for Corsica in time to
avoid the equinox, a distorted truth; and, second, that the Corsican
authorities had certified to his civism, his good conduct, and his
constant presence at home during his irregular absence from the army,
a truthful statement, but incomplete, since no mention was made of the
disgraceful Easter riots at Ajaccio and of Buonaparte's share in them.
The attitude of the government is clearly expressed in a despatch of
July eighth from the minister of war, Lajard, to Maillard, commander
of the Ajaccio garrison. The misdeeds of Quenza and Buonaparte were of
a civil and not a military nature, cognizable therefore under the new
legislation only by ordinary courts, not by military tribunals. The
uprisings, however, had been duly described to the commissioners by
Peraldi: they state as their opinion that the deputy was ill-informed
and that his judgment should not stand in the way of justice to M. de
Buonaparte. On July tenth the minister of war adopted the committee's
report, and this fact was announced in a letter addressed by him to
Captain Buonaparte!
The situation is clearly depicted in a letter of August seventh from
Napoleon to Joseph. Current events were so momentous as to overshadow
personal considerations. Besides, there had been no military
misdemeanor at Ajaccio and his reinstatement was sure. As things were,
he would probably establish himself in France, Corsican as his
inclinations were. Joseph must get himself made a deputy for Corsica
to the Assembly, otherwise his rôle would be unimportant. He had been
studying astronomy, a superb science, and with his knowledge of
mathematics easy of acquisition. His book--the history, no doubt--was
copied and ready, but this was no time for publication; besides, he no
longer had the "petty ambition of an author." His family desired he
should go to his regiment (as likewise did the military authorities at
Paris), and thither he would go.
A formal report in his favor was drawn up on August twentieth. On the
thirtieth he was completely reinstated, or rather his record was
entirely sponged out and consigned, as was hoped, to oblivion; for his
captain's commission was dated back to February sixth, 1792, the day
on which his promotion would have occurred in due course if he had
been present in full standing with his regiment. His arrears for that
rank were to be paid in full. Such success was intoxicating. Monge,
the great mathematician, had been his master at the military school in
Paris, and was now minister of the navy. True to his nature, with the
carelessness of an adventurer and the effrontery of a gambler, the
newly fledged captain promptly put in an application for a position as
lieutenant-colonel of artillery in the sea service. The authorities
must have thought the petition a joke, for the paper was pigeonholed,
and has been found marked S. R., that is, _sans réponse_--without
reply. Probably it was written in earnest, the motive being possibly
an invincible distaste for the regiment in which he had been
disgraced, which was still in command of a colonel who was not
disposed to leniency.
An easy excuse for shirking duty and returning to the old habits of a
Corsican agitator was at hand. The events of August tenth settled the
fate of all monarchical institutions, even those which were partly
charitable. Among other royal foundations suppressed by the Assembly
on August eighteenth was that of St. Cyr, formally styled the
Establishment of St. Louis. The date fixed for closing was just
subsequent to Buonaparte's promotion, and the pupils were then to be
dismissed. Each beneficiary was to receive a mileage of one livre for
every league she had to traverse. Three hundred and fifty-two was the
sum due to Elisa. Some one must escort an unprotected girl on the long
journey; no one was so suitable as her elder brother and natural
protector. Accordingly, on September first, the brother and sister
appeared before the proper authorities to apply for the traveling
allowance of the latter. Whatever other accomplishments Mlle. de
Buonaparte had learned at the school of St. Louis, she was still as
deficient in writing and spelling as her brother. The formal
requisitions written by both are still extant; they would infuriate
any conscientious teacher in a primary school. Nor did they suffice:
the school authorities demanded an order from both the city and
department officials. It was by the kind intervention of the mayor
that the red tape was cut; the money was paid on the next day, and
that night the brother and the sister lodged in the Holland Patriots'
Hotel in Paris, where they appear to have remained for a week.
This is the statement of an early biographer, and appears to be borne
out by an autograph letter of Napoleon's, recently found, in which he
says he left Paris on a date which, although the figure is blurred,
seems to be the ninth.[30] Some days would be necessary for the new
captain to procure a further leave of absence. Judging from subsequent
events, it is possible that he was also seeking further acquaintance
and favor with the influential Jacobins of Paris. During the days from
the second to the seventh more than a thousand of the royalists
confined in the prisons of Paris were massacred. It seems incredible
that a man of Napoleon's temperament should have seen and known
nothing of the riotous events connected with such bloodshed. Yet
nowhere does he hint that he had any personal knowledge. It is
possible that he left earlier than is generally supposed, but it is
not likely in view of the known dates of his journey. In any case he
did not seriously compromise himself, doing at the most nothing
further than to make plans for the future. It may have become clear to
him, for it was true and he behaved accordingly, that France was not
yet ready for him, nor he for France.
[Footnote 30: Napoléon inconnu, II, 408.]
It is, moreover, a strong indication of Buonaparte's interest in the
French Revolution being purely tentative that as soon as the desired
leave was granted, probably in the second week of September, without
waiting for the all-important fifteen hundred livres of arrears, now
due him, but not paid until a month later, he and his sister set out
for home. They traveled by diligence to Lyons, and thence by the
Rhone to Marseilles. During the few hours' halt of the boat at
Valence, Napoleon's friends, among them some of his creditors, who
apparently bore him no grudge, waited on him with kindly
manifestations of interest. His former landlady, Mme. Bou, although
her bill had been but insignificantly diminished by payments on
account, brought as her gift a basket of the fruit in which the
neighborhood abounds at that season. The regiment was no longer there,
the greater portion, with the colonel, being now on the northeastern
frontier under Dumouriez, facing the victorious legions of Prussia and
Austria. On the fourteenth the travelers were at Marseilles; in that
friendly democratic city they were nearly mobbed as aristocrats
because Elisa wore feathers in her hat. It is said that Napoleon flung
the offending object into the crowd with a scornful "No more
aristocrats than you," and so turned their howls into laughing
approval. It was about a month before the arrears of pay reached
Marseilles, two thousand nine hundred and fifty livres in all, a
handsome sum of money and doubly welcome at such a crisis. It was
probably October tenth when they sailed for Corsica, and on the
seventeenth Buonaparte was once more in his home, no longer so
confident, perhaps, of a career among his own people, but determined
to make another effort. It was his fourth return. Lucien and Fesch
were leaders in the radical club; Joseph was at his old post, his
ambition to represent Ajaccio at Paris was again thwarted, the
successful candidate having been Multedo, a family friend; Louis, as
usual, was disengaged and idle; Mme. Buonaparte and the younger
children were well; he himself was of course triumphantly vindicated
by his promotion. The ready money from the fortune of the old
archdeacon was long since exhausted, to be sure; but the excellent
vineyards, mulberry plantations, and gardens of the family properties
were still productive, and Napoleon's private purse had been
replenished by the quartermaster of his regiment.
The course of affairs in France had materially changed the aspect of
Corsican politics; the situation was, if anything, more favorable for
a revolutionary venture than ever before. Salicetti had returned to
Corsica after the adjournment of the Constituent Assembly with many
new ideas which he had gathered from observing the conduct of the
Paris commune, and these he unstintingly disseminated among his
sympathizers. They proved to be apt scholars, and quickly caught the
tricks of demagogism, bribery, corruption, and malversation of the
public funds. He had returned to France before Buonaparte arrived, as
a member of the newly elected legislature, but his evil influence
survived his departure, and his lieutenants were ubiquitous and
active. Paoli had been rendered helpless, and was sunk in despair. He
was now commander-in-chief of the regular troops in garrison, but it
was a position to which he had been appointed against his will, for it
weakened his influence with his own party. Pozzo di Borgo, his stanch
supporter and Buonaparte's enemy, was attorney-general in Salicetti's
stead. As Paoli was at the same time general of the volunteer guard,
the entire power of the islands, military and civil, was in his hands:
but the responsibility for good order was likewise his, and the people
were, if anything, more unruly than ever; for it was to their minds
illogical that their idol should exercise such supreme power, not as a
Corsican, but in the name of France. The composition of the two chief
parties had therefore changed materially, and although their
respective views were modified to a certain extent, they were more
embittered than ever against each other.
Buonaparte could not be neutral; his nature and his surroundings
forbade it. His first step was to resume his command in the
volunteers, and, under pretext of inspecting their posts, to make a
journey through the island; his second was to go through the form of
seeking a reconciliation with Paoli. Corsican historians, in their
eagerness to appropriate the greatness of both Paoli and Napoleon,
habitually misrepresent their relations. At this time each was playing
for his own hand, the elder exclusively for Corsica's advantage as he
saw it; the younger was more ambitious personally, although he was
beginning to see that in the course of the Revolution Corsica would
secure more complete autonomy as a French department than in any other
way. It is not at all clear that as late as this time Paoli was eager
for Napoleon's assistance nor the latter for Paoli's support. The
complete breach came soon and lasted until, when their views no longer
clashed, they both spoke generously one of the other. In the clubs,
among his friends and subordinates at the various military stations,
Napoleon's talk was loud and imperious, his manner haughty and
assuming. A letter written by him at the time to Costa, then
lieutenant in the militia and a thorough Corsican, explains that the
writer is detained from going to Bonifacio by an order from the
general (Paoli) to come to Corte; he will, however, hasten to his post
at the head of the volunteers on the very next day, and there will be
an end to all disorder and irregularity. "Greet our friends, and
assure them of my desire to further their interests." The epistle was
written in Italian, but that fact signifies little in comparison with
the new tone used in speaking about France: "The enemy has abandoned
Verdun and Longwy, and recrossed the river to return home, but our
people are not asleep." Lucien added a postscript explaining that he
had sent a pamphlet to his dear Costa, as to a friend, not as to a
co-worker, for that he had been unwilling to be. Both the brothers
seem already to have considered the possibility of abandoning Corsica.
No sooner had war been declared against Austria in April, than it
became evident that the powers whose territories bordered on those of
France had previously reached an agreement, and were about to form a
coalition in order to make the war general. The Austrian Netherlands,
what we now know as Belgium, were already saturated with the
revolutionary spirit. It was not probable that much annoyance would
come from that quarter. Spain, Prussia, and Holland would, however,
surely join the alliance; and if the Italian principalities, with the
kingdom of Sardinia, should take the same course, France would be in
dire straits. It was therefore suggested in the Assembly that a blow
should be struck at the house of Savoy, in order to awe both that and
the other courts of Italy into inactivity. The idea of an attack on
Sardinia for this purpose originated in Corsica, but among the friends
of Salicetti, and it was he who urged the scheme successfully. The
sister island was represented as eager to free itself from the control
of Savoy. In order to secure Paoli's influence not only in his own
island, but in Sardinia, where he was likewise well known and admired,
the ministers forced upon him the unwelcome appointment of
lieutenant-general in the regular army, and his friend Peraldi was
sent to prepare a fleet at Toulon.
The events of August tenth put an end for the time being to
constitutional government in France. The commissioners of the Paris
sections supplanted the municipal council, and Danton, climbing to
power as the representative "plain man," became momentarily the
presiding genius of the new Jacobin commune, which was soon able to
usurp the supreme control of France. A call was issued for the
election by manhood suffrage of a National Convention, and a committee
of surveillance was appointed with the bloodthirsty Marat as its
motive power. At the instigation of this committee large numbers of
royalists, constitutionalists, and others suspected of holding kindred
doctrines, were thrown into prison. The Assembly went through the form
of confirming the new despotism, including both the commune of the
sections and a Jacobin ministry in which Danton held the portfolio of
justice. It then dispersed. On September second began that general
clearance of the jails under mock forms of justice to which reference
has been made. It was really a massacre, and lasted, as has been said,
for five days. Versailles, Lyons, Meaux, Rheims, and Orléans were
similarly "purified." Amid these scenes the immaculate Robespierre,
whose hands were not soiled with the blood spilled on August tenth,
appeared as the calm statesman controlling the wild vagaries of the
rough and impulsive but unselfish and uncalculating Danton. These two,
with Philip Égalité and Collot d'Herbois, were among those elected to
represent Paris in the Convention. That body met on September
twenty-first. As they sat in the amphitheater of the Assembly, the
Girondists, or moderate republicans, who were in a strong majority,
were on the right of the president's chair. High up on the extreme
left were the Jacobins, or "Mountain"; between were placed those timid
trimmers who were called the "Plain" and the "Marsh" according to the
degree of their democratic sentiments. The members were, of course,
without exception republicans. The first act of the Convention was to
abolish the monarchy, and to declare France a republic. The next was
to establish an executive council. It was decreed that September
twenty-second, 1792, was the "first day of the year I of the
republic." Under the leadership of Brissot and Roland, the Girondists
asserted their power as the majority, endeavoring to restore order in
Paris, and to bridle the extreme Jacobins. But notwithstanding its
right views and its numbers, the Girondist party displayed no
sagacity; before the year I was three months old, the unscrupulous
Jacobins, with the aid of the Paris commune, had reasserted their
supremacy.
The declaration of the republic only hastened the execution of
Salicetti's plan regarding Sardinia, and the Convention was more
energetic than the Legislative had been. The fleet was made ready,
troops from France were to be embarked at Villefranche, and a force
composed in part of regulars, in part of militia, was to be equipped
in Corsica and to sail thence to join the main expedition.
Buonaparte's old battalion was among those that were selected from the
Corsican volunteers. From the outset Paoli had been unfriendly to the
scheme; its supporters, whose zeal far outran their means, were not
his friends. Nevertheless, he was in supreme command of both regulars
and volunteers, and the government having authorized the expedition,
the necessary orders had to be issued through him as the only channel
of authority. Buonaparte's reappearance among his men had been of
course irregular. Being now a captain of artillery in the Fourth
Regiment, on active service and in the receipt of full pay, he could
no longer legally be a lieutenant-colonel of volunteers, a position
which had also been made one of emolument. But he was not a man to
stand on slight formalities, and had evidently determined to seize
both horns of the dilemma.
Paoli, as a French official, of course could not listen for an instant
to such a preposterous notion. But as a patriot anxious to keep all
the influence he could, and as a family friend of the Buonapartes, he
was unwilling to order the young captain back to his post in France,
as he might well have done. The interview between the two men at Corte
was, therefore, indecisive. The older was benignant but firm in
refusing his formal consent; the younger pretended to be indignant
that he could not secure his rights: it is said that he even
threatened to denounce in Paris the anti-nationalist attitude of his
former hero. So it happened that Buonaparte returned to Ajaccio with a
permissive authorization, and, welcomed by his men, assumed a command
to which he could have no claim, while Paoli shut his eyes to an act
of flagrant insubordination. Paoli saw that Buonaparte was irrevocably
committed to revolutionary France; Buonaparte was convinced, or
pretended to be, that Paoli was again leaning toward an English
protectorate. French imperialist writers hint without the slightest
basis of proof that both Paoli and Pozzo di Borgo were in the pay of
England. Many have believed, in the same gratuitous manner, that there
was a plot among members of the French party to give Buonaparte the
chance, by means of the Sardinian expedition, to seize the chief
command at least of the Corsican troops, and thus eventually to
supplant Paoli. If this conjecture be true, Paoli either knew nothing
of the conspiracy, or behaved as he did because his own plans were not
yet ripe. The drama of his own personal perplexities, cross-purposes,
and ever false positions, was rapidly moving to an end; the logic of
events was too strong for the upright but perplexed old patriot, and a
scene or two would soon complete the final act of his public career.
The plan for invading Sardinia was over-complex and too nicely
adjusted. One portion of the fleet was to skirt the Italian shores,
make demonstrations in the various harbors, and demand in one of
them--that of Naples--public reparation for an insult already offered
to the new French flag, which displayed the three colors of liberty.
The other portion was first to embark the Corsican guards and French
troops at Ajaccio, then to unite with the former in the Bay of Palma,
whence both were to proceed against Cagliari. But the French soldiers
to be taken from the Army of the Var under General Anselme were in
fact non-existent; the only military force to be found was a portion
of the Marseilles national guard--mere boys, unequipped, untrained,
and inexperienced. Winds and waves, too, were adverse: two of the
vessels were wrecked, and one was disabled. The rest were badly
demoralized, and their crews became unruly. On the arrival of the
ships at Ajaccio, a party of roistering sailors went ashore,
affiliated immediately with the French soldiers of the garrison, and
in the rough horse-play of such occasions picked a quarrel with
certain of the Corsican militia, killing two of their number. The
character of the islanders showed itself at once in further violence
and the fiercest threats. The tumult was finally allayed, but it was
perfectly clear that for Corsicans and Marseillais to be embarked on
the same vessel was to invite mutiny, riot, and bloodshed.
Buonaparte thought he saw his way to an independent command, and at
once proposed what was manifestly the only alternative--a separate
Corsican expedition. The French fleet accordingly embarked the
garrison troops, and proceeded on its way; the Corsicans remained
ashore, and Buonaparte with them. Scenes like that at Ajaccio were
repeated in the harbor of St. Florent, and the attack on Cagliari by
the French failed, partly, as might be supposed, from the poor
equipment of the fleet and the wretched quality of the men, partly
because the two flotillas, or what was left of them, failed to effect
a junction at the appointed place and time. When they did unite, it
was February fourteenth, 1793; the men were ill fed and mutinous; the
troops that landed to storm the place fell into a panic, and would
actually have surrendered if the officers had not quickly reëmbarked
them. The costly enterprise met with but a single success: Naples was
cowed, and the court promised neutrality, with reparation for the
insult to the tricolor.
The Corsican expedition was quite as ill-starred as the French. Paoli
accepted Buonaparte's plan, but appointed his nephew, Colonna-Cesari,
to lead, with instructions to see that, if possible, "this unfortunate
expedition shall end in smoke."[31] The disappointed but stubborn
young aspirant remained in his subordinate place as an officer of the
second battalion of the Corsican national guard. It was a month before
the volunteers could be equipped and a French corvette with her
attendant feluccas could be made ready to sail. On February twentieth,
1793, the vessels were finally armed, manned, and provisioned. The
destination of the flotilla was the Magdalena Islands, one of which is
Caprera, since renowned as the home of Garibaldi. The troops embarked
and put to sea. Almost at once the wind fell; there was a two days'
calm, and the ships reached their destination with diminished supplies
and dispirited crews. The first attack, made on St. Stephen, was
successful. Buonaparte and his guns were then landed on that spot to
bombard, across a narrow strait, Magdalena, the chief town on the main
island. The enemy's fire was soon silenced, and nothing remained but
for the corvette to work slowly round the intervening island of
Caprera, and take possession. The vessel had suffered slightly from
the enemy's fire, two of her crew having been killed. On the pretense
that a mutiny was imminent, Colonna-Cesari declared that coöperation
between the sloop and the shore batteries was no longer possible; the
artillery and their commander were reëmbarked only with the utmost
difficulty; the unlucky expedition returned on February twenty-seventh
to Bonifacio.
[Footnote 31: Reported by Arrighi and Renucci and given
in Napoléon inconnu, II, 418.]
Both Buonaparte and Quenza were enraged with Paoli's nephew, declaring
him to have acted traitorously. It is significant of the utter anarchy
then prevailing that nobody was punished for the disgraceful fiasco.
Buonaparte, on landing, at once bade farewell to his volunteers. He
reported to the war ministry in Paris--and a copy of the memorial was
sent to Paoli as responsible for his nephew--that the Corsican
volunteers had been destitute of food, clothing, and munitions; but
that nevertheless their gallantry had overcome all difficulties, and
that in the hour of victory they were abased by the shameful conduct
of their comrades. He must have expressed himself freely, for he was
mobbed by the sailors in the square of Bonifacio. The men from
Bocagnano, partly from the Buonaparte estates at that place, rescued
him from serious danger.[32] When he entered Ajaccio, on March third,
he found that he was no longer, even by assumption, a lieutenant-colonel;
for during his short absence the whole Corsican guard had been
disbanded to make way for two battalions of light infantry whose
officers were to be appointed by the directory of the island.
[Footnote 32: For the original of this protest see
Napoléon inconnu, II, 439.]
Strange news now greeted his ears. Much of what had occurred since his
departure from Paris he already knew. France having destroyed root and
branch the tyranny of feudal privileges, the whole social edifice was
slack in every joint, and there was no strong hand to tighten the
bolts; for the King, in dallying with foreign courts, had virtually
deserted his people. The monarchy had therefore fallen, but not until
its friends had resorted to the expedient of a foreign war as a prop
to its fortunes. The early victories won by Austria and Prussia had
stung the nation to madness. Robespierre and Danton having become
dictators, all moderate policy was eclipsed. The executive council of
the Convention, determined to appease the nation, gathered their
strength in one vigorous effort, and put three great armies in the
field. On November sixth, 1792, to the amazement of the world,
Dumouriez won the battle of Jemmapes, thus conquering the Austrian
Netherlands as far north as Liège.
The Scheldt, which had been closed since 1648 through the influence of
England and Holland, was reopened, trade resumed its natural channel,
and, in the exuberance of popular joy, measures were taken for the
immediate establishment of a Belgian republic. The other two armies,
under Custine and Kellermann, were less successful. The former, having
occupied Frankfort, was driven back to the Rhine; the latter defeated
the Allies at Valmy, but failed in the task of coming to Custine's
support at the proper moment for combined action. Meantime the
agitation in Paris had taken the form of personal animosity to "Louis
Capet," as the leaders of the disordered populace called the King. In
November he was summoned to the bar of the Convention and questioned.
When it came to the consideration of an actual trial, the Girondists,
willing to save the prisoner's life, claimed that the Convention had
no jurisdiction, and must appeal to the sovereign people for
authorization. The Jacobins insisted on the sovereign power of the
Convention, Robespierre protesting in the name of the people against
an appeal to the people. Supported by the noisy outcries not only of
the Parisian populace, but of their followers elsewhere, the radicals
prevailed. By a vote of three hundred and sixty-six to three hundred
and fifty-five the verdict of death was pronounced on January
seventeenth, 1793, and four days later the sentence was executed. This
act was a defiance to all monarchs, or, in other words, to all Europe.
The younger Pitt was at this juncture prime minister of England. Like
the majority of his countrymen, he had mildly approved the course of
the French Revolution down to 1789; with them, in the same way, his
opinions had since that time undergone a change. By the aid of Burke's
biased but masterful eloquence the English people were gradually
convinced that Jacobinism, violence, and crime were the essence of the
movement, constitutional reform but a specious pretext. Between 1789
and 1792 there was a rising tide of adverse public sentiment so swift
and strong that Pitt was unable to follow it. By the execution of
Louis the English moderates were silenced; the news was received with
a cry of horror, and the nation demanded war. Were kings' heads to
fall, and republican ideas, supported by republican armies, to spread
like a conflagration? The still monarchical liberals of England could
give no answer to the case of Louis or to the instance of Belgium, and
were stunned. The English anti-Jacobins became as fanatical as the
French Jacobins. Pitt could not resist the torrent. Yet in his extreme
necessity he saw his chance for a double stroke: to throw the blame
for the war on France, and to consolidate once more his nearly
vanished power in parliament. With masterly adroitness France was
tempted into a declaration of war against England. Enthusiasm raged in
Paris like fire among dry stubble. France, if so it must be, against
the world! Liberty and equality her religion! The land a camp! The
entire people an army! Three hundred thousand men to be selected,
equipped, and drilled at once!
Nothing indicates that Buonaparte was in any way moved by the terrible
massacres of September, or even by the news of the King's unmerited
fate. But the declaration of war was a novelty which must have deeply
interested him; for what was Paoli now to do? From gratitude to
England he had repeatedly and earnestly declared that he could never
take up arms against her. He was already a lieutenant-general in the
service of her enemy, his division was assigned to the feeble and
disorganized Army of Italy, which was nominally being equipped for
active service, and the leadership, so ran the news received at
Ajaccio, had been conferred on the Corsican director. The fact was
that the radicals of the Convention had long been aware of the old
patriot's devotion to constitutional monarchy, and now saw their way
to be rid of so dangerous a foe. Three successive commanders of that
army had already found disgrace in their attempts with inadequate
means to dislodge the Sardinian troops from the mountain passes of the
Maritime Alps. Mindful, therefore, of their fate, and of his
obligations to England, Paoli firmly refused the proffered honor.
Suspicion as to the existence of an English party in the island had
early been awakened among the members of the Mountain; for half the
Corsican delegation to the Convention had opposed the sentence passed
on the King, and Salicetti was the only member who voted in the
affirmative. When the ill-starred Sardinian expedition reached Toulon,
the blame of failure was laid by the Jacobins on Paoli's shoulders.
Salicetti, who was now a real power among the leaders at Paris, felt
that he must hasten to his department in order to forestall events, if
possible, and keep together the remnants of sympathy with France; he
was appointed one of a commission to enforce in the island the decrees
of the Convention. The commission was well received and the feeling
against France was being rapidly allayed when, most unexpectedly,
fatal news arrived from Paris. In the preceding November Lucien
Buonaparte had made the acquaintance in Ajaccio of Huguet de
Sêmonville, who was on his way to Constantinople as a special envoy of
the provisory council then in charge of the Paris administration. In
all probability he was sent to test Paoli's attitude. Versatile and
insinuating, he displayed great activity among the islanders. On one
occasion he addressed the radical club of Ajaccio--but though
eloquent, he was no linguist, and his French rhetoric would have
fallen flat but for the fervid zeal of Lucien, who at the close stood
in his place and rendered the ambassador's speech in Italian to an
enthralled audience. This event among others showed the younger
brother's mettle; the intimacy thus inaugurated ripened quickly and
endured for long. The ambassador was recalled to the mainland on
February second, 1793, and took his new-found friend with him as
secretary or useful man. Both were firm Jacobins, and the master
having failed in making any impression on Paoli during his Corsican
sojourn, the man, as the facts stand, took a mean revenge by
denouncing the lieutenant-general as a traitor before a political
meeting in Toulon. Lucien's friends have thought the words unstudied
and unpremeditated, uttered in the heat of unripe oratory. This may
be, but he expressed no repentance and the responsibility rests upon
his memory. As a result of the denunciation an address calumniating
the Corsican leader in the most excited terms was sent by the Toulon
Jacobins to the deputy of the department in Paris. Of all this
Napoleon knew nothing: he and Lucien were slightly alienated because
the latter thought his brother but a lukewarm revolutionary. The news
of the defection of Dumouriez had just arrived at the capital, public
opinion was inflamed, and on April second Paoli, who seemed likely to
be a second Dumouriez, was summoned to appear before the Convention.
For a moment he became again the most popular man in Corsica. He had
always retained many warm personal friends even among the radicals;
the royalists were now forever alienated from a government which had
killed their king; the church could no longer expect protection when
impious men were in power. These three elements united immediately
with the Paolists to protest against the arbitrary act of the
Convention. Even in that land of confusion there was a degree of chaos
hitherto unequaled.