CHAPTER L. CADOUDAL AT THE TUILERIES
The day but one after the events which we have just related took place,two men were walking side by side up and down the grand salon of theTuileries. They were talking eagerly, accompanying their words withhasty and animated gestures. These men were the First Consul, Bonaparte,and Cadoudal.
Cadoudal, impelled by the misery that might be entailed by a prolongedstruggle in Brittany, had just signed a peace with Brune. It was afterthis signing of the peace that he had released the Companions of Jehufrom their obligations. Unhappily, this release had reached them, as wehave seen, twenty-four hours too late.
When treating with Brune, Cadoudal had asked nothing for himselfsave the liberty to go immediately to England. But Brune had been soinsistent, that he had consented to an interview with the First Consul.He had, in consequence, come to Paris. The very morning of his arrivalhe went to the Tuileries, sent in his name, and had been received. Itwas Rapp who, in Roland's absence, introduced him. As the aide-de-campwithdrew, he left both doors open, so as to see everything fromBourrienne's room, and to be able to go to the assistance of the FirstConsul if necessary.
But Bonaparte, who perfectly understood Rapp's motive, closed the door.Then, returning hastily to Cadoudal's side, he said: "Ah! so it is youat last! One of your enemies, my aide-de-camp, Roland de Montrevel, hastold me fine things of you."
"That does not surprise me," replied Cadoudal. "During the short time Isaw M. de Montrevel, I recognized in him a most chivalrous nature."
"Yes; and that touched you?" asked the First Consul, fixing his falconeye on the royalist chief. "Listen, Georges. I need energetic men likeyou to accomplish the work I have undertaken. Will you be one of them?I have already offered you the rank of colonel, but you are worth morethan that. I now offer you the rank of general of division."
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart, citizen First Consul," repliedCadoudal; "but you would despise me if I accepted."
"Why so?" queried Bonaparte, hastily.
"Because I have pledged myself to the House of Bourbon; and I shallremain faithful to it under all circumstances."
"Let us discuss the matter," resumed the First Consul. "Is there no wayto bind you?"
"General," replied the royalist leader, "may I be permitted to repeat toyou what has been said to me?"
"Why not?"
"Because it touches upon the deepest political interests."
"Pooh! some nonsense," said the First Consul, smiling uneasily.
Cadoudal stopped short and looked fixedly at his companion.
"It is said that an agreement was made between you and Commodore SidneySmith at Alexandria, the purport of which was to allow you to return toFrance on the condition, accepted by you, of restoring the throne to ourformer kings."
Bonaparte burst out laughing.
"How astonishing you are, you plebeians!" he said, "with your love foryour former kings! Suppose that I did re-establish the throne (a thing,I assure you, I have not the smallest desire to do), what return willyou get, you who have shed your blood for the cause? Not even theconfirmation of the rank you have won in it, colonel. Have you everknown in the royalist ranks a colonel who was not a noble? Did you everhear of any man rising by his merits into that class of people? Whereaswith me, Georges, you can attain to what you will. The higher I raisemyself, the higher I shall raise those who surround me. As for seeing meplay the part of Monk, dismiss that from your mind. Monk lived in anage in which the prejudices we fought and overthrew in 1789 were in fullforce. Had Monk wished to make himself king, he could not have doneso. Dictator? No! It needed a Cromwell for that! Richard could nothave maintained himself. It is true that he was the true son of a greatman--in other words a fool. If I had wished to make myself king, therewas nothing to hinder me; and if ever the wish takes me there will benothing to hinder. Now, if you have an answer to that, give it."
"You tell me, citizen First Consul, that the situation in France in 1800is not the same as England in 1660. Charles I. was beheaded in 1649,Louis XVI. in 1793. Eleven years elapsed in England between the deathof the king and the restoration of his son. Seven years have alreadyelapsed in France since the death of Louis XVI. Will you tell methat the English revolution was a religious one, whereas the Frenchrevolution was a political one? To that I reply that a charter is aseasy to make as an abjuration."
Bonaparte smiled.
"No," he said, "I should not tell you that. I should say to you simplythis: that Cromwell was fifty years old when Charles I. died. I wastwenty-four at the death of Louis XVI. Cromwell died at the age offifty-nine. In ten years' time he was able to undertake much, but toaccomplish little. Besides, his reform was a total one--a vast politicalreform by the substitution of a republican government for a monarchicalone. Well, grant that I live to be Cromwell's age, fifty-nine; that isnot too much to expect; I shall still have twenty years, just thedouble of Cromwell. And remark, I change nothing, I progress; I donot overthrow, I build up. Suppose that Caesar, at thirty years of age,instead of being merely the first roue of Rome, had been its greatestcitizen; suppose his campaign in Gaul had been made; that his campaignin Egypt was over, his campaign in Spain happily concluded; suppose thathe was thirty years old instead of fifty--don't you think he would havebeen both Caesar and Augustus?"
"Yes, unless he found Brutus, Cassius, and Casca on his path."
"So," said Bonaparte, sadly, "my enemies are reckoning on assassination,are they? In that case the thing is easy, and you, my enemy, have thefirst chance. What hinders you at this moment, if you feel like Brutus,from striking me as he struck Caesar? I am alone with you, the doorsare shut; and you would have the time to finish me before any one couldreach you."
Cadoudal made a step backward.
"No," said he, "we do not count upon assassination, and I think ourextremity must be great indeed before any of us would become a murderer;but there are the chances of war. A single reverse would destroy yourprestige. One defeat would bring the enemy to the heart of France. Thecamp-fires of the Austrians can already be seen from the frontiersof Provence. A cannon-ball may take off your head, as it did that ofMarshal Berwick, and then what becomes of France? You have no children,and your brothers--"
"Oh!" cried Bonaparte, "from that point of view you are right enough;but, if you don't believe in Providence, I do. I believe that nothinghappens by chance. I believe that when, on the 15th of August, 1769 (oneyear, day for day, after Louis XV. issued the decree reuniting Corsicato France), a child was born in Ajaccio, destined to bring about the13th Vendemiaire and the 18th Brumaire, and that Providence had greatdesigns, mighty projects, in view for that child. I am that child. IfI have a mission, I have nothing to fear. My mission is a buckler. If Ihave no mission, if I am mistaken, if, instead of living the twenty-fiveor thirty years I need to accomplish my work, I am stabbed to the heartlike Caesar, or knocked over by a cannon-ball like Berwick, Providencewill have had its reasons for acting so, and on Providence will devolvethe duty of providing for France. We spoke just now of Caesar. When Romefollowed his body, mourning, and burned the houses of his murderers,when the Eternal City turned its eyes to the four quarters of the globe,asking whence would come the genius to stay her civil wars, when shetrembled at the sight of drunken Antony and treacherous Lepidus, shenever thought of the pupil of Apollonius, the nephew of Caesar, the youngOctavius. Who then remembered that son of the Velletri banker, whitenedwith the flour of his ancestors? No one; not even the far-sightedCicero. '_Orandum et tollendum_,' he said. Well, that lad fooled allthe graybeards in the Senate, and reigned almost as long as Louis XIV.Georges, Georges! don't struggle against the Providence which createdme, or that Providence will destroy you."
"Then I shall be destroyed while following the path and the religion ofmy fathers," replied Cadoudal, bowing; "and I hope that God will pardonmy error, which will be that of a fervent Christian and a faithful son."
Bonaparte laid his hands on the shoulders of the young leader.
> "So be it," said he; "but at least remain neuter. Leave events tocomplete themselves. Watch the thrones as they topple, the crowns asthey fall. Usually spectators pay for a show; I will pay you to lookon."
"And what will you pay me for that, citizen First Consul?" askedCadoudal, laughing.
"One hundred thousand francs a year," replied Bonaparte.
"If you would give a hundred thousand francs to one poor rebel leader,"said Cadoudal, "what would you give to the prince for whom he fought?"
"Nothing, sir. I pay you for your courage, not for the principle forwhich you fought. I prove to you that I, man of my own works, judge mensolely by theirs. Accept, Georges, I beg of you."
"And suppose I refuse?"
"You will do wrong."
"Will I still be free to depart when I please?"
Bonaparte went to the door and opened it.
"The aide-de-camp on duty," he said.
He waited, expecting to see Rapp. Roland appeared.
"Ah, is it you!" he cried. Then, turning to Cadoudal, he said: "Colonel,I do not need to present to you my aide-de-camp, M. Roland de Montrevel.He is already one of your acquaintances. Roland, tell the colonel thathe is as free in Paris as you were in his camp at Muzillac, and that ifhe wishes a passport for any country in the world, Fouche has orders togive it to him."
"Your word suffices, citizen First Consul," replied Cadoudal, bowing. "Ileave to-night."
"May I ask where you are going?"
"To London, general."
"So much the better."
"Why so much the better?"
"Because there you will be near the men for whom you have fought."
"And then?"
"Then, when you have seen them--"
"What?"
"You will compare them with those against whom you have fought. But,once out of France, colonel--"
Bonaparte paused.
"I am waiting," said Cadoudal.
"Do not return without warning me, or, if you do, do not be surprised ifI treat you as an enemy."
"That would be an honor, general. By treating me so you will show thatyou consider me a man to be feared."
So saying, Georges bowed to the First Consul, and retired.
"Well, general," asked Roland, after the door had closed on the Bretonleader, "is he the man I represented him to be?"
"Yes," responded Bonaparte, thoughtfully; "only he sees things awry. Butthe exaggeration of his ideas arises from noble sentiments, which mustgive him great influence over his own people." Then he added, in alow voice, "But we must make an end of him. And now what have you beendoing, Roland?"
"Making an end of my work," replied Roland.
"Ah, ha! Then the Companions of Jehu--"
"No longer exist, general. Three-fourths are dead, the rest prisoners."
"And you are safe and sound?"
"Don't speak of it, general. I do verily believe I have a compact withthe devil."
That same evening Cadoudal, as he said, left Paris for England. Onreceiving the news that the Breton leader was in London, Louis XVIII.wrote him the following letter:
I have learned with the greatest satisfaction, general, that you have at last _escaped_ from the bands of the tyrant who misconceived you so far as to offer you service under him. I deplore the unhappy circumstances which obliged you to treat with him; but I did not feel the slightest uneasiness; the heart of my faithful Bretons, and yours in particular, are too well known to me. To-day you are free, you are near my brother, all my hopes revive. I need not say more to such a Frenchman as you.
LOUIS.
To this letter were added a lieutenant-general's commission and thegrand cordon of Saint-Louis.