CHAPTER XXV.
1799.
The two Councils—Barras' letter—Bonaparte at the Council of the
Five Hundred—False reports—Tumultuous sitting—Lucien's speech—
He resigns the Presidency of the Council of the Five Hundred—He is
carried out by grenadiers—He harangues the troops—A dramatic scene
—Murat and his soldiers drive out the Five Hundred—Council of
Thirty—Consular commission—Decree—Return to Paris—Conversation
with Bonaparte and Josephine respecting Gohier and Bernadotte—The
directors Gohier and Moulins imprisoned.
The scene which occurred at the sitting of the Council of the Ancients was very different from that which passed outside. Bonaparte had scarcely reached the courtyard and mounted his horse when cries of "Vive Bonaparte!" resounded on all sides. But this was only a sunbeam between two storms. He had yet to brave the Council of the Five Hundred, which was far more excited than the Council of the Ancients. Everything tended to create a dreadful uncertainty; but it was too late to draw back. We had already staked too heavily. The game was desperate, and everything was to be ventured. In a few hours all would be determined.
Our apprehensions were not without foundation. In the Council of the Five Hundred agitation was at its height. The most serious alarm marked its deliberations. It had been determined to announce to the Directory the installation of the Councils, and to inquire of the Council of the Ancients their reasons for resolving upon an extraordinary convocation. But the Directory no longer existed. Sieyès and Roger Ducos had joined Bonaparte's party. Gohier and Moulins were prisoners in the Luxembourg, and in the custody of General Moreau; and at the very moment when the Council of the Five Hundred had drawn up a message to the Directory, the Council of the Ancients transmitted to them the following letter, received from Barras. This letter; which was addressed to the Council of the Ancients, was immediately read by Lucien Bonaparte, who was President of the Council of the Five Hundred.
CITIZEN PRESIDENT—Having entered into public affairs solely from my
love of liberty, I consented to share the first magistracy of the
State only that I might be able to defend it in danger; to protect
against their enemies the patriots compromised in its cause; and to
ensure to the defenders of their country that attention to their
interests which no one was more calculated to feel than a citizen,
long the witness of their heroic virtues, and always sensible to
their wants.
The glory which accompanies the return of the illustrious warrior to
whom I had the honour of opening the path of glory, the striking
marks of confidence given him by the legislative body, and the
decree of the National Convention, convince me that, to whatever
post he may henceforth be called, the dangers to liberty will be
averted, and the interests of the army ensured.
I cheerfully return to the rank of a private citizen: happy, after
so many storms, to resign, unimpaired, and even more glorious than
ever, the destiny of the Republic, which has been, in part,
committed to my care.
(Signed) BARRAS.
This letter occasioned a great sensation in the Council of the Five Hundred. A second reading was called for, and a question was started, whether the retirement was legal, or was the result of collusion, and of the influence of Bonaparte's agents; whether to believe Barras, who declared the dangers of liberty averted, or the decree for the removal of the legislative corps, which was passed and executed under the pretext of the existence of imminent peril? At that moment Bonaparte appeared, followed by a party of grenadiers, who remained at the entrance of the hall.
I did not accompany him to the Council of the Five Hundred. He had directed me to send off an express to ease the apprehensions of Josephine, and to assure her that everything would go well. It was some time before I joined him again.
However, without speaking as positively as if I had myself been an eye-witness of the scene, I do not hesitate to declare that all that has been said about assaults and poniards is pure invention. I rely on what was told me, on the very night, by persons well worthy of credit, and who were witnessess of all that passed.