“‘You are an extraordinary man, sir,’ said Madame Bonaparte to the captain. ‘Nearly as soon as I?’
“‘Madame,’ replied the officer, ‘we have been ready for the march these four hours.’
“The officers followed the general into the drawing-room, and refreshments were distributed to the soldiers; it was a company of grenadiers.
“At nine o’clock in the evening, a courier arrived, bearing dispatches to Bonaparte. At once he, his wife, and his brother, drove to Paris. The grenadiers were ordered to follow immediately and in silence.” [Footnote: “Memoires secretes,” vol. i., p. 26.]
These dispatches, which Bonaparte had received from Paris, brought him the news that this time the danger was over—that the directors had abandoned their plan. Some fortunate accident may have warned them, even as Josephine herself had been warned. The spies who everywhere tracked Josephine, as well as Bonaparte, had carried to Gohier intelligence of all the strange movements of the wife of Bonaparte, and the director at once perceived that she was informed of the danger which threatened her husband, and that she was bent upon preventing it.
But now that the plan of the directors had been unveiled, danger threatened them in their turn, and they immediately adopted measures to face this new peril. In place of Bonaparte, they must find some one whom they could arrest, without withdrawing their orders. They found a substitute in a wealthy merchant from Hamburg, who now resided in Paris. Gohier had him arrested, and accused him of having had relations with the enemies of France.
Bonaparte assumed the appearance of having no doubts as to the sincerity of Gohier, of suspecting nothing as to his own arrest, which had been prevented by the timely and energetic action of Josephine. He thanked her with increased tenderness for her love and faithfulness, and as he pressed her affectionately to his breast, he swore to her that he would never again doubt her; that he would, by the most unreserved confidence, share with her his schemes and designs, and that henceforth he would look upon her as the good angel who watched over the pathway of his life.
And Bonaparte kept his word. From this day his Josephine was not only his wife, but his confidante, his friend, who knew all his plans, and who could assist him with her advice and her exquisite practical tact. She it was who brought about a reconciliation with Moreau and Bernadotte; and by her amiable nature, attractive and dignified manner, and great social talents, she bound even his friends closer to Bonaparte; or with a smile, a kind word, some flattering observation, or some of those little attentions which often-times tell more effectually with those who receive them than great services, she would often win over to him his foes and opponents.
“It is known but to few persons,” says the author of the “Memoires secretes,” “that Bonaparte always consulted his wife in civil matters, even when they were of the highest importance. This fact is entirely true, but Bonaparte would have been extremely mortified had he known that those around him suspected it. Had it been possible for me to divide my being, with what delight I should have followed this noble woman! I would relate a few traits of hers if I did not know that M. D. B., who is much better acquainted with her than I, is to write a biography. [Footnote: The “Memoires secretes” appeared in 1815. The biography spoken of by the author is probably that of Madame Ducrest, and which appeared in 1818.] I know not what were the events of the first years of Madame de Beauharnais, but if they were like those of her last fifteen years, we should have the history of a perfect woman. She has known but little of me, and therefore no interested motive guides my pen, no other sentiment than that of truth.” [Footnote: “Memoires secretes,” vol. i., p. 36.]
The 2d Brumaire afforded sufficient reasons for Bonaparte to put into execution his resolutions. He now knew the enmity of the Directory; he knew he must cause their downfall if he himself did not wish to be destroyed by them. He knew that, during his last triumphal journey through France, he had heard sufficient to convince him that the voice of the people was for him, that every one longed for a change, that France was heartily wearied of revolutionary commotions, and above all things craved for rest and peace; that it wished to lay aside all political strife, and, like him, preferred to have nothing more to do with a republican majority.