by Alan Schom
“Formerly I was in love,” and now realising its utter folly, indeed worse, he added, “I deny love’s very existence.” “Indeed, I go so far as to declare it harmful to society, to the individual happiness of man,” the jaded lieutenant wrote. “Hence in brief I believe that love does more harm than good.” To be sure, “Love offers incomparable pleasure,” but, he added, it “perhaps results in even greater pain.” Then, extrapolating, he came to the use of “love” as incorporated in the historical perspective of religion: “Religion was developed, and found a role by consoling the unfortunate peoples of the world,” thereby permitting it “to enslave them forever,” leading to what Napoleon referred to as “the empire of the priests,” one which, he added, “probably will never end.”[13]
Many a page he wrote, painfully, impatiently, in his all-but-illegible hand, which often even he was unable to decipher in the morning. He filled hundreds of folio pages between 1786 and 1791, including detailed advice to various commanding generals, such as Baron du Teil, suggesting an improved placement and trajectory of artillery, supported by mathematical proof.[14]
Napoleon then turned his attention to the reduction of transport costs from one arsenal to another.[15] Teil was much impressed by this unusual junior officer, whom he would not forget.
And thus on and on he went, night after night, while down below in the cafe, or in the officers’ regimental mess, his fellow gunners were drinking, gambling, and whoring. The light never seemed to be out in his room, and yet somehow he seemed to muster enough strength to carry out his work at the battery the next day. He studied the geography of Switzerland and the history of Turkey, the government of India and the religion of the Aztecs.[16] His thirst for knowledge was unquenchable.
Of all the notebooks, letters, and memoirs he prepared during this period, the longest and most interesting were on tyrannical government, in particular that of unjust France over the beleaguered Corsicans. Napoleon was an indignant idealist, protesting the outrageous acts against the downtrodden of the world and the arrogance of power in general.
“The use of brute force is the law of the jungle; the power of reasoning, that of man,” he began.[17] “How many vicissitudes are inflicted upon nations!...Tyranny, oppression, and injustice are devastating the earth...and the plight of Corsica provided a good example of “a small country that desires to be free but her neighbors wish to oppress.”
The task of a nation’s leader, however, is “to render the people over whom he rules happy, and to make society prosper. In order to do that, he, guided by the flame of reason, must balance with justice the rights of the men to whom he is responsible. To do that, one must be prepared to undertake whatever service the state requires...We are born to enjoy life,” he went on, but that is quite unknown to the Corsican now “in French chains” as a result of the Bourbon monarchy and the administrators sent to that island. “I have read all the speeches by monarchist orators in which a poor effort is attempted to support a bad cause” — but which in reality was merely an excuse for the abuse of power, as in his homeland.
“Half the people of the world are ambitious and seek their happiness in attaining honors. The love of glory makes them desire positions of power, and take perilous risks [as leaders and administrators of a country], finding themselves enticed by this power of command.” But, he argued, “the most alert...among us oppose and reject this.” The base of power of any tyrant or tyrannical government is “force” — the bayonet. “Are we going to have to continue watching the [French] military being given a free rein in their despotic rule [of Corsica]? Shall we continue to bow our heads beneath the triple yoke of the [French] army, governors, and financial officers” in their fiscal spoliation of our country? “How is it possible that an enlightened nation like France is not touched by our plight, a direct result of their actions?...In the eyes of God, the worst crime is to tyrannize over men, but the next worse is to suffer such tyranny!...Mankind! Mankind! How wretched you are in the state of bondage, but how great when you are impassioned by the flame of liberty!” Put an “end to the unjust French domination of Corsica.” His homeland needed a savior, “but shall a William Tell appear?”[18]
Having by now worked himself into a furor over the rape of his homeland by the very French under whom he was serving, Second Lieutenant Buonaparte requested, and received, a five-and-a-half-month furlough.
Sailing from Toulon in the autumn of 1786, his ship reached his beloved Corsica on September 15, his first visit in six years. He was now seventeen, and after a further extension of his leave would not return to France until September of the following year.[19] Corsica’s William Tell had arrived — or almost. In reality Napoleon’s principal purpose at this time was not to save Corsica but to help his poverty-stricken mother with some of the official paperwork for a final project prepared by his father just before his death and subsequently authorized by the royal government. This would result in the Buonapartes’ receiving a few thousand francs for the draining of marshland and converting it into a fruit tree nursery. In addition his mother, Uncle Fesch, and Joseph would soon be acquiring one or two small vessels they were to employ in acts of piracy against ships of foreign powers, leading to criminal charges being brought against them. To what extent Napoleon knew about this is not clear, though when the scandal broke a few years later, he would be obliged to use all his influence to have the case quashed.
After a year’s sojourn in Corsica, Napoleon rejoined his regiment in France only to apply for further leave because of the continuing family crisis, thereby resulting in a second stay in Ajaccio from January to June 1788.
These were chaotic times in France as well, with much political indecision and confusion as the Estates-General were summoned by Louis XVI in 1789, accompanied by the brutal attack on the Bastille and the slaughter of its small garrison by a mob on July 14. The newly created National Assembly abolished the feudal rights and privileges of the aristocracy, preparing the way for the downfall of the monarchy. On August 23 that same summer, Napoleon took the required new loyalty oath to “the Nation, the King, and the Law of the Land.” Three days later the Declaration of the Rights of Man was decreed, followed in October by the introduction of martial law and then the seizure of church lands by the state in November.
Traveling to Versailles and Paris, where a new constitution was being drafted, the young officer was finally becoming aware of the terrible political convulsions taking place in France. But far from being dismayed by this turmoil, he applauded it: “Revolutions are ideal times for soldiers with a bit of wit and the courage to act,”[20] he boasted to a fellow gunner, even as he set out for Corsica for the third time in September 1789, inspired by all that he had just seen and heard. Unlike his previous sojourns, however, for the first time he was coming to participate “politically,” even as the monarchical administration that he had so sharply criticized was being completely reorganized, permitting, he hoped, a new sense of justice to free the Corsicans from “their chains.” Paoli, long in exile, would also be returning to the homeland the following year to urge his compatriots to take advantage of the Revolution, to replace a “bad cause” with democracy, revolutionary clubs, and their own National Guard.
But when the island’s royalist governor closed the new club, Napoleon sent a petition of protest to the National Assembly in Paris. In the Corsican capital Napoleon supported the populace in a clash with the official French garrison there, and on November 5, 1789, the authorities requested his immediate expulsion to Ajaccio, where they hoped he would be out of harm’s way. He could instead have been court-martialed for treason or mutiny and shot. In the meantime, the National Assembly had restored Corsican citizenship to the people. The cry for full independence was in the air, but the man required to lead this movement, Paoli, now sixty-four years old, was cautious.
Joseph Bonaparte, who had earlier changed his plans for a clerical career in favor of law studies at Pisa (which he never completed), was back in Corsica as well, wo
rking hand in hand with Napoleon. But there was great division among the islanders now, with the Catholic church supporting the king and opposing the revolution and the Civil Constitution of the Clergy (requiring priests to take the revolutionary loyalty oath), while others wanted ties with revolutionary France, and still others full independence. Napoleon and Joseph, though favoring independence, praised much of the work done by the Revolution, and in so doing narrowly escaped an irate pro-Catholic mob. Corsica was becoming a dangerous place.
A meeting between Napoleon and the dictatorial Paoli proved fruitless, and before sailing to France in January 1790, Napoleon convinced the Jacobin Club of Ajaccio to send a stinging letter of complaints to the city’s ineffectual representative in the National Assembly. “Paoli was angry,” Napoleon recalled. “We did not speak to each other again for a long time.”[21]
Since his arrival at Valence after leaving the Ecole Militaire, Napoleon had been living under a most frugal regimen. He was supporting his thirteen-year-old brother Louis, who was now living with him, and sending money to his mother. What little remained was spent on books and stationery. As for food, a bit of bread and cheese sufficed. It was hardly surprising that he looked more sallow, more emaciated than ever, as Laure Permon noted with some anxiety. But this did not prevent Napoleon from entering an essay competition with the Académie de Lyon, entitled “What are the basic truths and feelings required to instill happiness in man?”[22] This was the last time he would waste his precious time on such philosophical ventures. No more theories for him. He had now fully graduated from “youth.”
By September 10, 1791, First Lieutenant Buonaparte (he had been promoted in June) was back in Corsica for the fourth time in five years, now to support Joseph’s candidacy for the Legislative Assembly. Failing to gain Paoli’s backing, however, Joseph was soundly defeated by Charles-André Pozzo di Borgo (whose family had for years leased the third floor of the Buonaparte house in Ajaccio). Napoleon would never forgive or forget this “betrayal.”
The Buonapartes were still living in Ajaccio, although sides were being drawn up in the usual black-and-white, for-and-against Corsican manner. There remained the pro-revolutionary French party, the growing pro-English faction supported more and more by Paoli, those who simply wanted independence, as well as a priesthood discontented with just about everyone except the Bourbon royalists. Nor had recent events in France helped matters: King Louis XVI’s abortive attempt to flee the country in June and his subsequent arrest, the dissolution of the Constituent Assembly (renamed the Legislative Assembly) in September, the declaration of war by Austria in August, and the immediate national mobilization in order to meet that threat.
Events in Corsica itself clearly required a William Tell, Napoleon felt. He successfully rigged his own election as lieutenant colonel of the 2nd Battalion of Corsican Volunteers, although he was meeting strong resistance everywhere because of the anticlerical measures taken by the revolutionary government in Paris, including the closure of the island’s monasteries, infuriating many of his fellow countrymen and further alienating them from Napoleon’s volunteers and the revolutionary party. The result was scuffles and clashes, culminating in a vain attempt by Napoleon and his National Guardsmen to seize the Ajaccio citadel from the French garrison on April 8, 1792.
Napoleon had completely misjudged the situation, and it now backfired on him. Just about everyone was openly against him: Paoli (newly appointed lieutenant general and governor of Corsica by Paris), the French garrison, and most of the prochurch population of Ajaccio, who by now wanted a little calm. “Napoleon is the cause of all our woes,” was heard in every quarter. Meanwhile, just to complicate matters, Napoleon had neglected to request an extension of his leave, which had expired in December, and on January 1, 1792, he had been marked AWOL, with the War Ministry then striking his name off the list of serving officers. Given all the chaos brother Napoleon had caused in Ajaccio these past few months, Joseph was only too grateful to see his ship disappearing over the horizon for France in May 1792.
Reaching Paris on May 28, Napoleon immediately set out to undo all the damage he had managed to inflict on his own career. At the same time he was developing political ties, frequently attending sessions of the newly renamed Legislative Assembly. After intensive weeks of politicking, Napoleon not only finally got all charges against him dropped but remarkably, also found himself fully reintegrated in his artillery regiment, with promotion to captain.[23]
Throughout the summer of 1792 Napoleon, along with Louis de Bourrienne, his old classmate from Brienne, observed the bizarre events taking place in Paris, including the storming of the Tuileries Palace by the masses on June 20 and then again on August 10, resulting in the public humiliation of Louis XVI and the slaughter of the Swiss Guards. Napoleon, witnessing the events from across the Carrousel and the Tuileries Palace at Bourrienne’s brother’s shop, felt as furious as he was hopeless to prevent the thousands of Parisians running amok, tearing through the palace. The experience further instilled in him an absolute loathing and fear of the masses, which he carried with him to his death.
These traumatic events also made Napoleon more impatient than ever to gain higher rank and command. Thus off he trudged to the Place de la Révolution (Concorde) to see the new naval minister, Gaspard Monge, requesting an appointment as lieutenant colonel of artillery in the French navy. Events were to intervene, however, preventing the otherwise well-disposed Monge from following through. On finally returning to the 1st Artillery Regiment at Valence after a long absence, Captain Buonaparte immediately applied for leave — again — using as his excuse the necessity of escorting his younger sister, Elisa, home to Corsica after her boarding school at St.-Cyr had been closed by the revolution.
Although Buonaparte had been absent more frequently than present throughout the past few years, his request was granted. On October 15, 1792, he set sail for Corsica with Elisa, never imagining that this would be the last time he would do so as a dedicated patriot. Despite his past disagreements with Paoli, he resumed his duties as lieutenant colonel and, under Paoli’s orders as lieutenant general, took part in an attempted invasion of Sardinia, at Maddalena, following the successful French conquest of Savoy and Nice.
Setting sail on February 23, 1793, the small Corsican flotilla easily overwhelmed the tiny island of San Stefano, only to find the expedition’s commander suddenly getting cold feet and ordering his men to reembark and return to Corsica.[24] For once Napoleon was speechless.
Meanwhile at Toulon eighteen-year-old Lucien Buonaparte was preparing the way for an even greater fiasco. Speaking before the Jacobin Club in that French port, he denounced Pasquale Paoli as “a traitor” who was preparing to hand over Corsica to the English. The club, endorsing this virulent attack, sent a copy to the Convention in Paris, where the deputy from the Department of the Var then repeated the warning of this teenage Corsican hothead. Pandemonium filled the august building, followed by a vote calling for the immediate arrest of Governor Paoli, his delegate at the Convention, and Pozzo di Borgo. Even as troops were dispatched in Corsica to execute the orders from Paris, the entire island rose up against the treacherous Buonapartes, and menacing crowds surrounded the house in Ajaccio.
As for Napoleon, on returning from the Sardinian farce and learning what had happened in his absence, he wrote immediately to the Convention asking that body to revoke the arrest warrants. But it was already too late; by now even the Jacobin Club of Ajaccio was denouncing the Buonapartes. It was the excuse Paoli had long been looking for, and he demanded a complete break with France. Napoleon wrote to him in vain. “What scum!” Paoli had called Lucien on learning of his outrageous action. What he called Napoleon was no doubt worse.
Ajaccio was no longer safe even for Napoleon. He had to keep on the move, hiding first in a cave, then with a cousin, and later with friends. The Corsican police were looking for him everywhere. When in May, Commissaires Lacombe and Salicetti, the representatives of the Convention, reached A
jaccio with French troops to restore order and enforce the decrees of Paris, they met stiff resistance. Pozzo di Borgo for his part denounced les frères Buonaparte, while the governing council of Corsica in turn denounced Paris and condemned the Buonaparte family “to eternal execration and infamy.”
A terrified Letizia fled with her children in the middle of the night, and by June 3, 1792, Napoleon, his mother, and siblings were all at Calvi, hiding with friends. As for Commissaires Salicetti and Lacombe, they too had to flee Ajaccio for their lives, while in Paris the Convention was drafting a further decree declaring “the traitor Paoli an outlaw,” along with Pozzo di Borgo and others.
As for the Buonapartes, in the dark of night on June 10, 1793, the entire family secretly sailed for Toulon. Napoleon’s new house and fields, which he had bought with Uncle Fesch, along with his mother’s houses, properties, and vineyards, were seized and their living quarters ransacked by their neighbors. They had left Corsica with literally only the shirts on their backs. They had lost their entire source of revenue and now had only Napoleon’s captain’s pay to sustain their mother and six children. And all this because of the feckless, hotheaded Lucien, who still thought himself a great hero![25] The family never wanted to see Corsica again. Meanwhile, France was moving closer to an even more diabolical state of chaos and terror under the influence of Maximilien Robespierre and his Committee of Public Safety.