Chapter 4

Moving into the Limelight

In This Chapter

Being governed by Committee

Leading the siege of Toulon

Gaining promotion and fame

Serving time in jail

Saving a reputation — and a career

T here is a myth about the American Revolution (more properly called the U.S. War of Independence

The American uprising largely was led by a middle class that was protecting its economic interests as much as promoting the lofty ideals expressed so well in the Declaration of Independence and other writings. And for a long time, it was not at all clear that the American insurgents would win.

A large number of American colonialists were quite happy to be His Royal Majesty’s Loyal Subjects, hoping only for some reforms in the way the colonies were treated. Had the French not joined the struggle, those whom the United States now venerates as heroic founding fathers may have instead gone down in history as hanged and disemboweled traitors.

The situation in France in the early days of the French Revolution was similar to what the Americans had faced. In this chapter, I discuss why the French Revolution actually horrified many French citizens and caused deep divisions within the country and even within the Revolutionary leadership. I then explain how the French Revolution helped give Napoleon an opportunity to advance very quickly in his military career. I discuss his earliest victory (Toulon) and how it led to Napoleon’s early fame. And finally, I tell you how Napoleon saved the French government from a royalist takeover and became a national hero.

Losing Some Revolutionary Fervor

Since the beginning of time, France had had a king, and many French citizens thought that was just the way it was supposed to be. Humans like tradition, and at that time there was nothing more traditional than having a king. Also, kings claimed to rule by divine right, meaning that they served as king because God wanted them in that position. That argument was weaker in the 18th century than it had been previously, but many people still believed it.

When the leaders of the Revolution executed King Louis XVI in January 1793 (see Chapter 3) and later executed the queen, many people were horrified. To some, this action went against deeply-held religious beliefs. To others, it was simply cruel and unnecessary; perhaps the king could have still been part of the Revolution despite his early lack of support.

Getting radical

Indeed, the execution of the king helped split the leadership cadre of the Revolution itself. Rather than a monolithic movement, the Revolution soon was comprised of several factions, and the most radical of those factions, a group known as the Jacobins, was gaining the upper hand. That would not be good news for anyone who opposed them.

The Committee of Public Safety, a group of 12 “just men” who governed France after the Jacobins took power in 1793, had become increasingly radical. The execution of the king was only the start. Soon, anyone who disagreed with these “just men” was in trouble, a condition generally associated with a one-way trip to the guillotine.

Effectively run by Maximilien Robespierre, one of the most radical Revolution- aries, the Committee consisted of middle class lawyers, some of whom can only be described as violent and bloodthirsty. While the Revolution was based on lofty goals, such as religious freedom, the Committee of Public Safety turned on anyone who failed to exhibit what it considered proper political or religious beliefs. One-time Revolutionaries like Georges-Jacques Danton made that trip to the guillotine as the Revolution turned on itself.

Some of the Committee’s other actions included

Eliminating the traditional calendar in favor of one based on the beginning of the Revolution, with months named after seasons

Fighting to eliminate Christianity and replace it with a “Cult of the Supreme Being”

As a result, not everyone in France was all that excited about the Revolution. Many were outraged at its excesses.

Recognizing opposition

In the United States, people sometimes talk about blue states and red states, with blue indicating greater support for the Democratic Party and red indicating support for the Republican Party. We have our liberal cities and our Bible-belt South. France was much the same way in the late 18th century.

A country divided

Support for the Revolution was strongest in Paris and in some other cities, such as Grenoble. Elsewhere, citizens either took a wait-and-see attitude or, as was the case in the city of Lyon, offered outright opposition. Widespread opposition among some segments of French society and in some geographic areas made the Revolution much like a civil war. And citizens who sided with the ultimate losers could find their careers — and their heads — cut off. (We should try to understand Napoleon’s moves during this period in this context.)

One area noted for its strong opposition was the Vendée, an area of unusual religious fervor located in western France. The Revolution was anticlerical in nature. Years of excesses by the Roman Catholic Church had led to deep distrust and disillusionment among many people, which even developed into fierce hatred toward the Church for some. But not everyone felt that way. Many French citizens were pious believers who were appalled by the destruction of church property and the murder of some members of the clergy. As a result, the Vendée openly opposed the Revolution.

Another area of opposition to the increasingly radical Revolution was the Mediterranean port city of Toulon. Citizens there were probably okay with some of the ideas of the Revolution, but they wanted nothing to do with executing a king or anyone else.

British interference

As a port city with a population approaching 30,000, Toulon was important for trade and defense. It contained a very large arsenal for the navy. If you look at a map, you will clearly see that it was also an important strategic location for the French presence in the Mediterranean. Control of Toulon was key for any defending French government, as well as any would-be French conqueror.

And guess who was more than willing to foment discord wherever they could? The British government opposed the French Revolution, especially after the execution of Louis XVI, and was pleased to do anything that might ultimately restore the Bourbon monarchy. In this effort, it had the support of Spain and most of the other old monarchies of Europe.

It so happens that the British naval fleet was just sort of hanging around, looking for something to do. Toulon’s city fathers decided to take bold action. On August 27, 1793, they declared themselves an independent city, no longer part of Revolutionary France. They further declared the young Louis XVII king, notwithstanding the fact that he was in prison at the time. After the Bourbon monarchy was restored, the city would quickly rejoin French society and all would be forgiven, right? Well, maybe, maybe not.

The city fathers of Toulon were foolish, but they were not fools. They invited the British navy, commanded by Admiral Samuel Hood, to occupy their harbor and British marines to occupy their town. I’m sure you will be shocked to hear that the British, hardly able to conceal their glee, were quick to move in and settle down. In the process, they gained control of a major French port and a number of French ships, and they stuck a very large thorn in the side of the hated Revolutionaries in Paris. From the British point of view, this was a marvelous gift.

Even so, this whole episode raises the question that I’d sure like to ask those city fathers in Toulon: What were you thinking? Gee, is there a word for inviting the enemy to come in and take over your city, turning against your own government? Yes, indeed, and the word is treason. While I’m at it, I’d ask if they really believed that the French government in Paris was going to just shrug its shoulders and ignore them. Not! Other French cities had tried this — Marseilles and Lyon come to mine, each having tried to declare independence from the Revolutionary government — and other cities had failed.

Moreover, this was an act of war by Great Britain. After all, occupying French territory without the permission of the French government is a big no-no, regardless of what the mayor of Toulon has to say.

Catching a Break

Napoleon was about to step right into this difficult situation. Indeed, he had already had to deal with opposition to the Revolution and the need to oppose French citizens in the name of defending the Revolutionary government. In 1792, as an officer in the French army assigned to Avignon, Napoleon had experienced the unique horror of seeing citizen killing citizen, in this case in trying to acquire the ammunition at Avignon for the government. Shortly after that experience, he wrote his short story “Supper at Beaucaire,” which argued for French unity with order restored by the army (see Chapter 3.)

Napoleon was beginning to make his mark, but he still had routine military assignments to fulfill; he was, after all, a relatively low-ranking officer. But not for long.

France had an army in Italy, and in September 1793 Napoleon was assigned to escort an ammunition convoy to re-supply that army. Such a convoy does not move quickly, so along the way Napoleon took the time to stop for a visit in the town of Le Beausset, perhaps a dozen miles from Toulon. Napoleon’s uncle, Joseph Fesch, was the storekeeper at the military depot there. As a reward for the Bonapartes’ loyalty on Corsica and the difficulties they had encountered as a result of that loyalty, the Revolutionary government had extended its largess to them, including Uncle Fesch’s appointment.

Visiting friends in high places

Napoleon’s visit wasn’t just a family matter. Among other friends in the area was one Antonio Cristoforo Saliceti, a fellow Corsican who had fought for the island’s independence. Like the Bonaparte family, Saliceti had left the island when Corsican leader Pasquale Paoli had turned against the Revolution and, thus, against its Corsican supporters.

Saliceti was a member of the Revolutionary government called a Representa- tive on Mission, which meant he had enormous power. From that post, he had given a glowing report on the conduct of the Bonapartes to the Committee on Public Safety As a result, not only had Uncle Fesch received his appointment, but Napoleon’s brother Joseph was made comptroller of army supplies and his brother Lucien was the military storekeeper at St. Maximin. Something of a firebrand, Lucien had become quite active in Revolutionary politics, rising to become president of the local chapter of the Jacobin club, the most radical of the Revolutionaries at that time. The Jacobins were something like a very radical political party, and each area had its own chapter. The chapter Lucien led was headquartered in Toulon.

In addition to Saliceti, several other important contacts were in the Toulon area as well:

Louis-Marie Stanislas Fréron: Like Saliceti, Fréron was a Representative on Mission. He was especially unhappy with the unrest in Toulon because his sister and niece were trapped in the city and at the mercy of those who opposed the Revolution he was helping to lead. (Fréron would later have an affair with Napoleon’s sister Pauline. While that hardly made him unique, the affair stemmed from his relationship with Napoleon forged during the siege of Toulon.)

Thomas Gasparin: Gasparin was another Revolutionary leader who was Corsican.

Paul Barras: A rising star in Revolutionary France, Barras would one day be one of France’s most powerful leaders and a mentor to Napoleon.

Augustine Robespierre: His presence was perhaps the most important of all. Augustine was the brother of the revered, and feared, Maximilien Robespierre, the most powerful member of the all-powerful Committee of Public Safety.

If you get the sense that Napoleon was pretty well connected for a junior army officer, you’d be right; he had friends and relatives in pretty high places. He had already gained attention in both military and political circles, and now the two worlds would begin to converge.

Seizing an opportunity

Saliceti needed an artillery officer to replace one who had been wounded. Artillery was key to driving out the British ships. Napoleon was a perfect selection. As an artillery officer, his credentials were impeccable. Moreover, he was a rising star with good political connections. Saliceti could do far worse than give this promising young man a chance to make a name for himself defending the very same Revolution he had already defended with both his pen and his military action. Saliceti offered Napoleon the job.

Napoleon was no fool. He was on a mundane convoy mission to an obscure campaign in Italy. If he went to Toulon instead, he would have the opportunity to defend the Revolution and the French nation against 18,000 foreign troops, mostly the hated British and a few traitors. As long as Toulon held out, the royalists — the people hoping to restore the Bourbon monarchy — would have hope, and the Revolution, with all of its great ideas of liberty and equality, was in danger. The conqueror of Toulon would surely be a great hero to the fledgling French Republic.

Hmmm. Obscurity or glory: Which would you choose? The words were probably barely out of Saliceti’s mouth before Napoleon said “Yes!” And how could he go wrong? He had just been selected by some of the most powerful men in France to do something that relied on his strong points, leadership and artillery, to protect the nation. It was an assignment made in heaven, and Napoleon was determined to make the most of it.

Napoleon was brilliant, and he had important political backing. Still, he was not a top officer, and he had to convince the commanding general to follow his suggestions. Moreover, the military force drawn up against the insurgents in Toulon was not ideal. Rival Revolutionary factions in Marseilles contended for military recruits, and some of the army was tied down in a siege at Lyon. Plus, desertion in the ranks was a problem. In short, things were not going as well as the Revolutionary government may have hoped.

From Napoleon’s point of view, the biggest problem was the commanding general, an undistinguished man named Jean Carteaux, who had been a painter before the Revolutionary government had made him a general. (Petty jealousies and political intrigue combined to inhibit both the political and military command structures from making good decisions.)

General Carteaux insisted on repeated frontal assaults in columns of three, a completely losing proposition. Worse, it became clear to Napoleon that his commanding general had not the slightest clue of anything regarding artillery, either as to its potential or the technicalities of its use. Exasperated, Napoleon wrote to the Committee of Public Safety on October 25, 1793, asking for a new general to command the artillery. As if this wasn’t bold enough, he described the current leadership as “a band of fools” guilty of “ignorance,” and he practically demanded that a general who could stand up to them be sent to take command of the artillery.

It didn’t take much to obtain a one-way trip to the national razor (as the guillotine was often called), so this was pretty bold stuff. But Napoleon was not one to pull his punches, and his letter actually worked. An artillery commander was sent, and it turned out to be none other than General Jean du Teil, brother of Napoleon’s former commander (see Chapter 3). Napoleon was essentially placed in charge of the artillery, and he began to use the division effectively, including to bombard the British ships.

Ultimately, General Jacques Coquille Dugommier was sent to take overall charge of the army at Toulon. General Dugommier recognized the brilliance of his young artillery commander and the value of his plans. The two men hit it off rather well. By then, additional supplies had begun to arrive, including forces fresh from the successful siege of Lyon, and it was time for decisive action.

Retaking Toulon

To retake Toulon, Napoleon knew it was essential to gain control of a series of forts that controlled the heights overlooking the harbor. If the French were positioned in these heights, a couple miles from the city itself, the British navy would be helpless to resist a bombardment and would have to withdraw. With the British navy gone, along with its marines, Toulon would be ripe for the taking. Meetings took place, the politicians agreed to the plan, and all was in place.

On December 17, 1793, the Revolutionary forces stormed Fort Mulgrave (also called Little Gibraltar), which dominated the heights and controlled access to two smaller fortifications known as l’Eguillette and Balaguier. In a simultaneous action, they stormed Mount Faron. To their credit, the Representatives on Mission helped lead the action, notwithstanding their distinct lack of military experience.

The fighting was fierce, and Napoleon was in the thick of it all. He received a bayonet wound that nearly cost him a leg. After several hours, during which the result was sometimes in doubt, Fort Mulgrave fell. Shortly thereafter, l’Eguillette and Balaguier were deserted.

With control of the high ground theirs, the French began a bombardment of the British and Spanish fleet in the harbor. No fools they, the Brits and Spanish immediately began to withdraw, taking their marines and quite a few French traitors with them. Unable to adequately staff some of the French ships in the harbor, they sank them. They also set fire to the arsenal. By morning, they were gone. Meanwhile, the streets of Toulon were a scene of chaos and bloodshed, as Revolutionaries began to take their revenge on royalists unable to quickly escape to the ships.

Basking in victory

With the British gone, Toulon quickly fell to the French army and its Revolu- tionary leaders. More bloodshed followed, as the Revolutionary leaders sought to punish any traitors who remained behind. The definition of traitor soon became rather loose. People were summarily executed without trial, often several hundred at a time. Ironically, the worst offenders, the leaders of the insurrection, had escaped with the British fleet. Unhappy with the bloodshed, Napoleon and others tried to limit it but weren’t very successful.

In time, things calmed down. Meanwhile, the political and military leaders made their reports to Paris. The action in Toulon had been very important, as it effectively ended the counterrevolutionary movement in the south of France and kicked the British and Spanish off French soil. The action caught the imagination of the French people and was the subject of songs, a play, and engravings.

From all sides, Napoleon Bonaparte received accolades. Naturally, the politicians took much of the credit themselves, but Napoleon was praised by General Dugommier, who called him “a rare officer,” and others. For his efforts, Napoleon became a brigadier general at the ripe old age of 24. He received mention in the national newspaper and recognition in the highest councils of government. In his first real combat, Napoleon had shown that he could be a bold and decisive leader who was willing to take chances. One of history’s greatest careers was underway.

Toulon was also the beginning of some very long and important friendships. Napoleon’s secretary, Sergeant Andoche Junot, was impressed with him and would stay with him for his entire career. Captain Auguste Frédéric Louis Marmont became his best friend and remained close until he finally deserted Napoleon in 1814. Other long-term relationships that came from Toulon included Louis Suchet, Louis Charles Desaix, Geraud Duroc, and Claude-Victor Perrin (generally known as Marshal Victor).

After Toulon, everything seemed to be going Napoleon’s way. As a brigadier general, his salary increased substantially. True to his Corsican heritage that stressed the importance of family (see Chapter 2), he made sure that his mother shared in his success. He established the family home near Antibes, a decision that would later prove fortuitous.

In addition to his military promotion, Napoleon received the relatively mundane position of Inspector of Coastal Defenses, which he found interesting. Using his political connections, Napoleon made plans to drive the Austrians out of Italy (though ultimately those plans were abandoned).

Generally, life was pretty good. Still, he did have to be careful. He knew that it was all too easy to run afoul of the Revolutionary government in Paris. He had friends in high places, but some of those friends were competing with each other, and he had to be careful not to get caught in the middle.

Taking a Step Backward

Just as things were looking rosy for Napoleon, disaster struck. The Commit- tee of Public Safety, led by Maximilien Robespierre, had gone too far. Too many good Revolutionaries had been executed in the name of purifying the Revolution. No one trusted anyone, and everyone feared they would be next.

With that atmosphere, the inevitable happened. Maximilien and Augustine Robespierre and other members of the most radical faction of Revolutionary leadership were arrested. The very next day, July 28, 1794, they were sent to the same guillotine to which they had sent so many before them.

France breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the bloodshed was far from over. A national backlash occurred, and anyone associated with the Robespierre brothers was immediately suspect and often just as immediately executed.

Going to jail

Napoleon was on the southern coast of France, a fact that probably saved his life. A friend of the Robespierres and others of their ilk, Napoleon was arrested and thrown into jail at the Chateau d’Antibes, which, despite its name, was no luxury hotel! He was charged with planning to build a prison and conducting a treasonous secret mission to Genoa, Italy. The charges were bogus, of course — Napoleon was just doing what he had been told to do — but nevertheless, he was kept in prison for two weeks. The situation was very dangerous for Napoleon. His old friend Saliceti was in charge of the investigation, but he may have been the source of the charges as well!

Napoleon was not one to sit quietly and let events run their course. He prepared his own defense, writing letters to his family and others protesting his innocence. He claimed he would have killed Robespierre himself had he suspected any aspirations to tyranny and pointed out that he had sacrificed much to the cause of the Revolution. His most immediate commanding general wrote in his defense. Junot, his aide-de-camp, was willing to help Napoleon escape, but Napoleon refused. Convinced that he eventually would be released, Napoleon chose to wait it out, keeping himself occupied by drawing up plans for a future Italian campaign.

His optimism was justified: All charges were ultimately dropped — whether in spite of or because of Saliceti is a little hard to determine. Napoleon came out of this situation unscathed, but his career was still very much up in the air.

Floundering in his career

In the spring of 1795, Napoleon was ordered to the Vendée, a departement (regional government) in west central France. There, counterrevolutionary forces were gaining the upper hand, and the military was being sent to quell a revolt. Napoleon could clearly see that this was a losing proposition all around. It was one thing to fire upon traitors in Toulon; after all, the British and Spanish were there. But firing on French citizens in the interior of the country was quite another matter, and Napoleon wanted none of it.

Napoleon decided to go to Paris, with his friend Marmont and his loyal secretary Junot in tow, to ask the Minister of War to change his orders. Instead, Napoleon found himself removed from the artillery and assigned to command an infantry unit. This was a serious blow not only to his ego but to his possibilities for advancement, as the artillery was the elite of the army and the infantry was, well, the infantry!

Napoleon could hardly disobey orders, but he could call in sick. Heck, he had previously taken long personal leaves (see Chapter 2), so calling in sick was just another ploy along the same lines. While in Paris, he went to the opera and attended scholarly lectures. He, Junot, and Marmont solidified their relationship.

But times had changed since Napoleon had taken his long leaves to Corsica, and Napoleon knew he could claim to be sick for only so long. Depressed and fearful of being sent to the Vendée, Napoleon requested to be sent to join the Turkish artillery in Constantinople. Napoleon actually had a legitimate chance of getting the request approved (we can only imagine the effect on history if he did), but it seems that the request disappeared into the bureaucracy. Napoleon also applied to serve in the Russian army, but that idea went nowhere.

Napoleon’s career floundered, and he became somewhat despondent. With most of his money going to support his family, he moved into more humble quarters. Once full of hope and seemingly at the beginning of a great career, a hero of his nation, Napoleon was down and out in Paris. Things were looking grim, and nothing his friends did could improve his mood.

Getting a new assignment

Just in the nick of time, a new war minister was appointed. Napoleon was right there in Paris with his request for reassignment (but not to Turkey), and this time he had much better luck. Impressed with Napoleon’s plans for an Italian campaign, the new Minister of War assigned Napoleon to the Topographical Bureau, Italian section.

Napoleon had hoped to be sent to Italy, but he made the most of his desk job in Paris, spending much of his time hobnobbing with top generals and politicians, both professionally and socially. He began to make the social rounds, attending receptions known as salons, where he met a wide range of important people. He probably met his future wife, Josephine, at one of these events (see Chapter 5).

Even so, Napoleon was frustrated at being so far from the action. Maps and planning were fine for a time, but he longed to put his ideas into effect. Moreover, in September 1795, he was placed on half pay, even though he was working full-time in his assigned post. The pay cut was either due to incompetence on the part of some personnel clerk or, possibly, due to someone not trusting a former Jacobin general. (Remember: Napoleon had been very close to the Robespierre brothers.) Whatever the case, it certainly had a major impact on Napoleon’s lifestyle and career potential.

To say that Napoleon was frustrated would be a gross understatement. When France decided to send a small group of artillerymen to Turkey to help modernize the Turkish forces, Napoleon managed to get named as head of the delegation. But once again events would intervene and send Napoleon on a far different path.

Securing a Government

With the fall of Robespierre, the French government was controlled by a legislative body known as the Convention. This body attempted to reduce the influence of the radical Jacobins. But as I discuss in this section, its security was threatened not just from the radical left, but also from right-wing factions that wanted to bring back the monarchy.

Fearing the left and the right

The French government was now firmly in the hands of the middle class. As such, it was fearful of the working class Parisians who had sustained so many of the radical actions under the Committee of Public Safety.

As I note in Chapter 3, the Revolution had been brought on in part by severe economic difficulties. The gap between rich and poor in France had been enormous and growing, and Louis XVI was unable to find an economic fix for the plight of the poor.

Unfortunately, the Revolution had done little better. The Convention had been unable to adequately deal with France’s many economic problems, and inflation was running wild. Bread, that staple of workers everywhere, was expensive and in very short supply. Bread riots in Paris were not uncommon. Anger toward the government was growing, and the streets sometimes approached anarchy.

At first, the government seemed to get support from bands of youth known as the jeunesse dorée , or “gilded youth.” These gangs would roam the streets in outlandish attire, putting on airs and eating expensive food. (They were so absurd that they gained the nickname of les Incroyables , or “the Incredibles.”) These youth were not simply fops trying to pretend to be royal and/or British. Though many of them were deserters or were avoiding military service, they were happy to beat up any Jacobins they happened to find. Armed and dangerous, they exerted a fair amount of influence on the Convention that they claimed to support.

But throughout the country, there was a right-wing, or royalist, backlash against the Revolution and, thus, against the government. Initially supportive of the government against the remaining radicals of the left, the jeunesse dorée soon became the violent spearhead of those who wanted to bring back a monarchy, even if they needed to get help from the British to do so. Thus, an odd coalition of the poor Parisian left and the gilded youth of the right threatened the peace and stability that most people desired.

Royalist supporters actually controlled many, perhaps most, of the administrative units of Paris, called sections. The Convention could not tolerate this situation.

Practicing self-perpetuating politics

To maintain control of the government, the Convention proposed a new constitution. The Convention would be replaced with a two-house legislative body:

The Council of Five Hundred would initiate legislation.

The smaller Council of Ancients (with 250 members) would have veto power.

Executive functions would be controlled by a Directory composed of five directors with a rotating chair.

While this move was rather popular, the Convention’s next move was decidedly less so. In one last effort to maintain power, the new constitution decreed that two-thirds of each of the two new legislative bodies would come from — you guessed it — the current membership of the Convention!

The people were not blind; they knew what was happening. So while the constitution passed easily in a September 1795 plebiscite (a direct vote of the citizens), there was great unrest in the streets. Not surprisingly, most of this unrest was centered in Paris. Voter turnout had been low, and charges of fraud were heard far and wide.

Preparing for a fight

In June of that year, the young son of Louis XVI had died in prison. Sensing an opportunity, Louis’s brother, the Comte d’Artois, had declared himself Louis XVIII. This action outraged some people and delighted others. The streets were alive with tension and outright conflict. Paris was threatened with anarchy, and the government was threatened with overthrow.

On October 4, the Convention sent the elderly General Jacques Menou to quell the disturbances, which were on the verge of getting completely out of hand. Menou faced the insurgents and, upon their agreement to disband, removed his troops from the scene. This was hardly effective action, and the Convention sacked Menou on the spot. (Later, Napoleon would intervene to save Menou’s career.)

And — surprise! — the insurgents did not disband. Instead, they quickly armed and mobilized for an all-out attack on the Convention. Now in serious fear for its very survival, the Convention turned to Paul Barras, a leading member of the Convention, to organize its defense. Barras had essentially no military skills, but he knew Napoleon from the siege of Toulon and quickly sought his assistance.

On the evening of October 4, Napoleon had been to see a play. On his way home, he heard the drums of the insurgents and could see something was up. He made his way to the galleries of the Convention and actually observed the Convention as it organized its defense and put Barras in charge. Accounts differ as to how Napoleon was informed of his own appointment. His old acquaintance Louis Marie Stanislas Fréron may have had a hand in it, or Napoleon may have been informed by Barras himself later in the evening. However it happened, Napoleon had very little time to decide if he would take the job. He didn’t need much time: The answer was clearly to be yes.

There was good news and bad news in all of this for Napoleon. The good news is that, as with Toulon, he was being given a chance to save the Revolutionary government. The bad news was that he would almost certainly have to fire on French citizens. Even when done in defense of one’s government, shooting at citizens is a dicey proposition at best and clearly fraught with danger. But these French citizens were royalists mixed in with a healthy portion of anarchists and some units of the National Guard who had turned against their own government. If ever there was a group of citizens on whom it was pretty safe to fire, this was it. If he succeeded, he would likely be seen as a hero, and Napoleon did not plan to fail.

Taking charge

Paul Barras was technically in command of the defense of the Tuileries, the palace where the Convention held its meetings, but Napoleon was soon the one giving the orders. Not surprisingly, he quickly decided that artillery was key to controlling the streets that led to the Tuileries Palace, especially the streets leading from the church of St. Roch, headquarters for the insurgents. Incredibly, the Convention forces would be far outnumbered by the growing band of insurgents, by a margin of almost six to one. The only hope lay in the effective use of artillery, but the artillery was stored six miles away on the Plain of Sablons.

Napoleon quickly ordered the closest cavalry unit he could find to ride to get the cannon before they fell to the insurgents, who were quite aware of their existence. (By the way, cannon is one of those words that is both singular and plural and, of course, means artillery. Cannon is sometimes called “guns” or “heavy guns” as well.) The cavalry, led by the dashing young officer Joachim Murat, just barely got the artillery, arriving mere moments before insurgent forces. There was a brief standoff, but Murat’s cavalry, with sabers drawn and a clear intent to use them, was up to the task, and the insurgents fled.

Early in the morning of October 5, the artillery, a total of 40 guns, arrived and was quickly put into place. By afternoon, the two forces faced each other, often within just a few paces. The insurgents attempted to entice the soldiers to desert, even sending some women over to, uh, distract the men. None of it worked.

Napoleon feared that the royalist insurgents might try to infiltrate his defenses under cover of darkness. So as the day wore on, the Convention itself was armed. At 4:00 in the afternoon, the drums were beat, cheers were heard, and thousands of insurgents began to march from the church of St. Roch toward the Tuileries. Push was about to become shove, and Napoleon was ready.

Sweeping the streets (with grapeshot)

Napoleon had filled his cannon with canisters of small musket balls, called grapeshot. Firing cannon in this way had the effect of turning them into rather large shotguns. The attacking royalists knew the guns were there, and they came anyway. After they made it past some barricades, Napoleon had no choice but to shoot. The command was given to fire, and every gun blazed away.

At first, the insurgents faltered, but then they kept coming. Each side was determined to win, but after 15 minutes or so it became clear that there were simply not enough insurgents to overcome the power of the artillery. Through the smoke and noise, they began to withdraw. Sensing victory, Napoleon ordered his infantry to pursue them all the way to the church of St. Roch. There, the insurgents made a desperate last stand, but when artillery was moved into place to fire at close range, their fate was sealed. Today, you can still see pot-marks (small holes) in the walls of the church from this confrontation.

Ending an era

The entire affair was over by 6:00 in the evening. Amazingly, only about 400 insurgents were killed. Even so, their resolve was broken, to say nothing of their ability to mount a serious military threat ever again.

Napoleon had been everywhere on the field and had been completely in charge. No one doubted that he was the man of the hour — that the victory had been his alone. Not content with a simple victory, he quickly moved to disarm the sections. Collection points were established, and citizens were ordered to turn in their weapons. Early the next morning, when Napoleon could finally relax a bit, he wrote to his brother Joseph about the events of the day, assuring him that he had suffered no wounds.

During the Revolution, the Parisian working class had formed the most radical basis for Revolutionary action. Often the greatest proponents of violence, the so-called Paris mob exerted great influence on the government and was one of the reasons for the radical actions of the Committee on Public Safety. No one was willing, or able, to challenge the Paris mob once it was mobilized.

The Convention may have succumbed to the demands of the Paris mob as well, if not for Napoleon. After his famous “whiff of grapeshot,” as the action in defense of the Tuileries would be forever known, the Paris mob would never again exert such influence, whether radical left or royalist right. In that sense, Napoleon’s actions brought to an end the French Revolution and ushered in a new era.

Napoleon’s success also ended, for a time at least, any talk of a return of the monarchy. The Comte d’Artois had planned to lead a triumphant march into Paris, sweeping aside all who would oppose him. Well, that idea sure was going nowhere, so d’Artois opted for a bit longer stay in exile. When Napoleon heard of this decision, he was rather disgusted. Later, when that same pretender to the throne sought his help, Bonaparte, remembering the character of the man, would have none of it.

Jump-Starting His Career

Even more than he had at Toulon, Napoleon proved with his action in Paris to be an extraordinary leader in extraordinary times. Moreover, he showed that he could use his specialty — artillery — to its fullest advantage. Both Toulon and Paris were situations where an expert artillery officer with imagination, leadership, and daring could turn things around. Napoleon (see Figure 4-1) did just that, and his efforts were rewarded.

Figure 4-1: This snuffbox shows a confident young Napoleon as he embarks on an amazing career.

The Convention met on October 11, 1795. Barras and Fréron gave speeches that reminded the Convention just how much it owed this young General Bonaparte. Napoleon was clearly the hero of the day, though he was careful not to be seen seeking the limelight and did not give a speech of his own. The Convention had appointed Barras as commander of the Army of the Interior, and now it appointed Napoleon as second in command. The promotion was a great step forward for Napoleon, but the jump-starting of his career was just beginning.

The new constitution called for dissolving the Convention, and on October 26 that body met for the last time. Paul Barras had been chosen as one of the first members of the new Directory, and as such he could not maintain his military position. A grateful Convention, as one of its last acts, appointed Napoleon as commander of the Army of the Interior, with the rank of général de division. At 26, he had already accomplished great things. Perhaps to cel- ebrate, and certainly to symbolize his final commitment to France, he gave up the Italian spelling of his name, Buonaparte, dropping the u to become simply Bonaparte.

As he had after Toulon, Napoleon used his new position, with its large salary, to improve his lifestyle and that of his family. He was given a nice home as part of his position as commanding officer, and he was able to send his mother a significant amount of money. He found positions for some of his family as well, arranging for Joseph to be consul in Italy and Lucien an army commissioner. His youngest brother, Louis, soon became Napoleon’s aide-de-camp.

Napoleon was no longer obscure. Everywhere he went, he was cheered. People sought to shake his hand. He received ovations at the theater and invitations to all manner of social events. He attended many salons and was the topic of conversation in other salons and elsewhere. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to hear of, and better yet, meet, this dashing young general Bonaparte.

Life was good. And it would soon get much better.