‘Of course,’ said Jean-Baptiste calmly, ‘of course I could. The Jacobins even proposed something like this to me, the Jacobins and some of our Generals. I need only say the word and they would make me Director and give me much greater powers than the Directors have now.’
‘And you refused?’
‘Naturally. I stand by the Constitution.’
Just then Fernand announced Joseph, my brother-in-law. Jean-Baptiste groaned. ‘Really, that’s the last straw! Well, Fernand, let him come in.’
Joseph came in, and bent first over the cot and said that Oscar was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. Then he wanted Jean-Baptiste to go down with him into the study. ‘I should like to ask you something and it would only bore Désirée,’ he said.
Jean-Baptiste shook his head. ‘I see so little of Désirée, I prefer to stay here with her. Sit down, Bonaparte, and be brief, I have plenty of work to do yet.’
So they both sat down by my bed. Jean-Baptiste took my hand in his, and its light touch sent a feeling of serene confidence and strength across to me. I closed my eyes.
‘It concerns Napoleon,’ I heard Joseph say. ‘What would your attitude be should Napoleon wish to return to France?’
‘I should say that Napoleon could not return as long as the Minister of War had not recalled him.’
‘Bernadotte, let’s be perfectly frank: a commander of Napoleon’s importance is, at this moment, completely wasted on the Egyptian front. Since the destruction of our fleet the campaign there has more or less come to a standstill. The Egyptian campaign therefore can—’
‘Be called a fiasco, which is precisely what I prophesied.’
‘I hadn’t intended to express myself quite like that. However, as no decisive developments are to be expected in Africa, it would perhaps be possible to use my brother’s abilities on other fronts to greater advantage. Besides, Napoleon is not only just a strategist. You yourself know his interest in organisation, and he could be of great help to you here in Paris reorganising the Army. Moreover,’ – here Joseph hesitated and waited for Jean-Baptiste to say something, but Jean-Baptiste remained silent. So Joseph went on: ‘You know that there are quite a number of plots being hatched against the Government?’
‘As the Minister of War I am not quite ignorant about that. But what has that got to do with the Commander-in-Chief of our Army in Egypt?’
‘The Republic needs a – needs several strong men. In times of war France cannot afford party intrigues and internal differences.’
‘If I understand you right you are suggesting that I am to recall your brother to deal with the different plots, are you not?’
‘Yes, I thought that—’
‘To deal with conspiracies is a matter for the police and for no one else.’
‘Quite, if the conspiracies are directed against the State. But I can tell you that influential circles are thinking of bringing about a concentration of all positive political forces.’
‘What do you mean by “concentration of all positive political forces”?’
‘For instance, if you yourself and Napoleon, the two ablest men of the Republic—’
Bernadotte cut him short: ‘Stop talking nonsense! Why don’t you say simply: “In order to free the Republic from party politics certain persons are contemplating the introduction of a dictatorship. My brother Napoleon wishes to be recalled from Egypt in order to apply for the position of dictator.” Why don’t you simply say that and have done with it, Bonaparte!’
Joseph, disagreeably surprised, cleared his throat. Then he said: ‘I’ve seen Talleyrand to-day. The ex-minister thinks that Director Sieyès would not be disinclined to support a change of the Constitution.’
‘I know exactly what Talleyrand thinks, I also know what some of the Jacobins want, and I can even tell you that above all the Royalists have pinned all their hopes on a dictatorship. As for me, I have taken the oath to the Republic and I shall be loyal to our Constitution whatever happens. Is my answer clear enough?’
‘You will appreciate that a man like Napoleon is bound to be driven to despair by his enforced idleness in Egypt. Moreover, my brother wants to settle some important private affairs in Paris. He wants to divorce Josephine, whose unfaithfulness has wounded him deeply. If my brother in his distress decided to return without your authority, what would happen then?’
For one moment Jean-Baptiste’s fingers closed round my hand with an iron grip. Then they relaxed and I heard him say calmly: ‘In that case I, as the Minister of War, should be compelled to court-martial your brother, and I suppose that he would be condemned as a deserter and shot.’
‘But Napoleon, the great patriot that he is, can no longer, in Africa—’
‘A Commander-in-Chief has to remain with his troops. He led them into the desert, and he has to stay with them till they can be brought back. Even a civilian like you must realise that, Monsieur Bonaparte.’
After he had finished, an uncomfortable silence reigned in the room.
At last I said: ‘Your novel, Joseph, is a most exciting book.’
‘Yes,’ he replied with his usual modesty, ‘everybody congratulates me on it.’
He rose and Jean-Baptiste accompanied him downstairs.
I tried to get some sleep. In the uneasy state between sleeping and waking I recalled a little girl racing a nondescript thin officer till they stopped by a moonlit hedge. ‘I, for example, I know my destiny,’ the officer said and the young girl giggled. ‘You’ll believe in me, Eugenie, whatever happens, won’t you?’
I felt certain, suddenly, that Napoleon would return from Egypt. Some day he’d simply turn up and overthrow the Republic if he had the chance. He doesn’t care for the Republic nor for the rights of its citizens, and he just doesn’t understand men like Jean-Baptiste, he never has and he never will. I remember what my father said: ‘My little daughter, whenever and wherever in days to come men deprive their brothers of their right to liberty and equality no one will ever be able to say of them: “Lord forgive them for they know not what they do.”’
At eleven o’clock Marie entered, took Oscar out of his cot and put him to my breast. Jean-Baptiste came up too. He knows that Oscar gets his supper at this time.
‘He’ll come back, Jean-Baptiste,’ I said.
‘Who?’
‘Our son’s godfather. What are you going to do?’
‘If I get the necessary powers I’ll have him shot.’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘Then he’ll take them himself and have me shot. Good night, my girl.’
‘Good night, Jean-Baptiste.’
‘And don’t think of it any more. I was only joking.’
‘I understand, Jean-Baptiste. Good night!’
Paris, 18th Brumaire of the Year VII. (Abroad they would say November 9th, 1799. Our Republic gets a new Constitution!)
He did come back!
And to-day he brought about a coup d’état and became the head of France’s Government a few hours ago!
Several Deputies and some Generals have already been arrested and Jean-Baptiste said that we may at any moment expect a visit from the State Police. It would be dreadful, unimaginably dreadful, for me if my diary fell into the hands of the Police Minister Fouché and of Napoleon himself. How they would laugh! Therefore I’ve decided to write down everything that’s happened at once and then hand it over to Julie to keep for me. She, after all, is the new dictator’s sister-in-law, and surely he’ll never let his police search her house?
I am sitting in the drawing-room of our new house in the Rue Cisalpine. In the dining-room next door I can hear Jean-Baptiste pacing the floor, up and down and up and down. ‘If you have any dangerous papers let me have them,’ I shouted to him. ‘I’ll take them to Julie to-morrow with my papers.’
But Jean-Baptiste answered: ‘I have no – how do you put it? – “dangerous papers”. And Napoleon knows quite well what I think of his treasonable action.’
Fernand was rum
maging about the room, and I asked him whether there were still many people standing outside our house in silent groups. He said there were.
‘What do these people want?’ I wondered.
Fernand put a new light into the candelabrum and said: ‘They want to see what’s going to happen to our General. I’m told that the Jacobins wanted our General to take over the command of the National Guard and—’ He scratched his head thoughtfully and noisily and was obviously asking himself whether to tell the truth or not. ‘Yes, and people think that our General will be arrested. General Moreau was arrested some time ago.’
I am preparing myself for a long night. In the adjoining room Jean-Baptiste keeps pacing the floor, I write on, the hours pass slowly and we wait.
Yes, Napoleon returned quite unexpectedly, exactly as I had thought he would. Four weeks and two days ago an exhausted courier dismounted from his horse in front of Joseph’s house and announced: ‘General Bonaparte, accompanied only by his secretary Bourrienne, has landed at Fréjus in a tiny freighter which slipped through the British blockade. He’s hired a special coach and will be in Paris at any moment.’
Joseph got dressed hurriedly, fetched Lucien, and both brothers went and took up stations in front of Napoleon’s house in Rue de la Victoire. Their voices woke Josephine, who, when she heard what was happening, put on her most fashionable dress, dashed into her carriage and drove like fury through the southern suburbs to meet Napoleon. She hadn’t even wasted any time on make-up, she did that in the carriage. She had only one aim, to get to Napoleon before Joseph saw him and to try at all costs to prevent a divorce. But hardly had her carriage driven off when Napoleon’s chaise drove up to the house in the Rue de la Victoire. The two carriages had missed each other by a few moments. Napoleon jumped out, the two brothers ran to meet him, and there was a lot of back-patting. They went into the house and withdrew into one of the small rooms.
Round about midday Josephine returned exhausted from her futile journey and opened the door to the room where the brothers were in conference. Napoleon looked her up and down: ‘Madame,’ he said at last, ‘we have nothing more to say to each other. I shall take the necessary steps for a divorce to-morrow, and shall be obliged if meanwhile you will move into Malmaison. In the meantime I shall look round for a new house for myself.’
Josephine broke into violent sobbing. Napoleon turned his back on her, and Lucien took her up to her room. After that the three brothers continued their conference for hours, and later on were joined by Talleyrand, the former Minister for Foreign Affairs.
Meanwhile the news spread quickly through all Paris that Napoleon had returned victoriously. Crowds gathered round his house, soldiers turned up and shouted ‘Vive Bonaparte!’ and Napoleon showed himself at the window and waved to the crowd. All the time Josephine was sitting in her bedroom weeping wildly; her daughter Hortense tried to calm her down and gave her camomile tea.
It was not till the evening that Napoleon was left alone with his secretary Bourrienne. He dictated letters to innumerable Deputies and Generals in order to notify them of his safe return. Later on Hortense appeared, still angular, thin, colourless and timid, but already dressed like a young lady. The long somewhat pendent nose gave her an air of precociousness.
‘Couldn’t you go and talk to Mama, Papa Bonaparte?’ she said in a whisper. He brushed her aside like a fly.
He did not send his secretary away till midnight. As he was still debating with himself where to lie down for the night – Josephine was still occupying the bedroom – he heard loud sobbing outside the door. He quickly locked it. Josephine continued to stand there, outside his door, and weep for two full hours. At last he opened. Next morning he woke up in Josephine’s bedroom.
Julie, who had it from Joseph and Bourrienne, told me all this. ‘And do you know what Napoleon said to me?’ she added. ‘He said to me: “Julie, if I divorce Josephine all Paris will know that she cheated me, and I’ll be the laughing-stock of Paris. If I don’t divorce her, you see, all Paris will know that there is nothing to blame her for and it was all malicious talk. At the present moment I must not, on any account, make myself ridiculous.” A strange attitude, don’t you think, Désirée?’
There were other things she had to tell me: ‘Junot, too, has come back from Egypt and so has Eugene de Beauharnais. Almost every day officers of the Army in Egypt land secretly in France. And according to Junot, Napoleon left a fair-haired mistress behind in Egypt, a certain Madame Pauline Fourès whom he called “Bellilote”. She is supposed to be a young officer’s wife who had acompanied her husband to Egypt in disguise. Just imagine! When Napoleon got Joseph’s letter about Josephine – you remember the letter, don’t you? – he ran up and down in front of his tent for two hours, then sent for “Bellilote” and dined with her.’
‘What became of her?’ I asked.
‘Junot, Murat and the others say that he handed her over, together with his command of the Army, to his second in command.’
‘And what does he look like?’
‘The second in command?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Napoleon, of course!’
Julie became thoughtful. ‘He’s changed, you know. Perhaps it’s something to do with the way he’s doing his hair now. He had it cut short out in Egypt, which makes his face look plumper and his features less irregular. But it isn’t that alone, no, I’m sure it isn’t. By the way, you’ll see him yourself on Sunday, you’re coming to dinner at Mortefontaine, aren’t you?’
Upper-class Parisians have a house in the country, and writers a garden to which they can retire. Since Joseph sees himself as an upper-class Parisian as well as a writer he bought the charming Villa Mortefontaine with the large park belonging to it, about an hour’s drive from Paris. Next Sunday we were to dine there in the company of Napoleon and Josephine.
To-day’s events would never have come to pass had Jean-Baptiste still been Minister of War on Napoleon’s return. But a short time before that he had had another of his violent arguments with Director Sieyès, and in a fit of anger he offered his resignation. Pondering over it and remembering that Sieyès assisted Napoleon with his coup d’état, I think it highly probable that Sieyès had an inkling of Napoleon’s intention of returning and deliberately brought about the argument in order to force Jean-Baptiste’s resignation. Jean-Baptiste’s successor did not dare to court-martial Napoleon, because some Generals and the circle of Deputies round Joseph and Lucien were too openly on Napoleon’s side.
In those autumn days Jean-Baptiste received many visitors. One of them, General Moreau, came almost every day, and suggested that the Army ought to intervene if Napoleon really ‘dared’. A group of Jacobin members of Paris City Council turned up to inquire whether, in case of riots, General Bernadotte would take over command of the National Guard. Jean-Baptiste answered that he would gladly take it over, provided the Government, that is the Minister of War, appointed him in due and proper manner. At that the Councillors departed in dismay.
On the morning of the Sunday on which we were to go to Mortefontaine I suddenly heard a well-known voice downstairs. ‘Eugenie,’ it shouted, ‘I want to see my godchild!’
I ran down the stairs, and there he was, tanned, his hair cut short.
‘We wanted to surprise you and Bernadotte,’ he said. ‘You are going to Mortefontaine, aren’t you? So Josephine and I thought we could fetch you. Besides, I want to meet your son and admire your new house and say hallo to Colleague Bernadotte, whom I have not yet seen since my return.’
‘You are looking very well, my dear,’ Josephine, leaning gracefully against the verandah door, interposed.
Jean-Baptiste appeared on the scene now, and I ran into the kitchen to tell Marie to make coffee and serve liqueurs. On returning I saw that Jean-Baptiste had fetched Oscar and Napoleon was bending over the little bundle, tickling his chin and clucking at him.
Oscar didn’t like it, and started to scream.
‘Well, Colleague Bernadotte,’ said
Napoleon laughingly to Jean-Baptiste, and amiably patted his back, ‘more recruits for the Army, eh?’
I rescued our son from the arms of his father, who stiffly held him away from himself and insisted that the bundle felt damp.
Enjoying Marie’s bitter-sweet coffee, Josephine involved me in a conversation on roses. Roses are her passion, and I had already been told that she was planning a costly rose garden at Malmaison. She had seen a few rather miserable rose trees outside our verandah, and she wanted to know how I tended them. Therefore we didn’t hear what Jean-Baptiste and Napoleon were talking about, but both Josephine and I were silenced abruptly on hearing Napoleon say:
‘I am told, Friend Bernadotte, that you, had you been in office on my return, would have had me court-martialled and shot. What is it you are blaming me for?’
‘I believe you know our Service Regulations as well as I do,’ Jean-Baptiste answered, and added, ‘perhaps even better, for you had the advantage of having been trained at an officers’ training establishment, and of starting your active service as an officer, whereas I served for many years in the ranks, as you may have heard.’
Napoleon bent forward and tried to catch Jean-Baptiste’s eyes. At this moment I realised why he looked different now. His short hair made his head appear round and his lean face ampler; moreover, I had never noticed before the severely jutting, almost angular chin. However, all this emphasised the change only, it had not brought it about. What was decisive in this change was his smile, the smile which once upon a time I loved so much and later I hated so much, the smile which once upon a time had played so rarely and so fleetingly round his intense face. Now it never left his face, had become winning, had become at once begging and demanding.
But what did this uninterrupted smile demand? And for whom was it meant? For Jean-Baptiste, of course! He was to be won over, to be turned into a friend, a confidant, an enthusiastic follower.
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