The structure of government which Buonaparte had selected out of the broken outlines of the plan of SiÊyes, being not only monarchical but despotic, it remained that its offices should be filled with persons favourable to the new order of things; and to this the attention of Buonaparte was especially turned. In order to secure the selection of the official individuals to himself, he eluded entirely the principle by which SiÊyes had proposed to elaborate his national representatives out of the various signed lists of eligibility, to be made up by the three classes into which his hierarchy divided the French people. Without waiting for these lists of eligible persons, or taking any other rule but his own pleasure, and that of his counsellors, the two new consuls, Buonaparte named sixty senators; the senators named a hundred tribunes, and three hundred legislators; and thus the whole bodies of the State were filled up, by a choice emanating from the executive government, instead of being vested, more or less directly, in the people.

In availing himself of the privileges which he had usurped, the first consul, as we must now call him, showed a moderation as artful as it was conciliatory. His object was to avoid the odium of appearing to hold his rank by his military character only. He desired, on the contrary, to assemble round him a party, in which the predominant character of individuals, whatever it had hitherto been, was to be merged in that of the new system; as the statuary throws into the furnace broken fragments of bronze of every various description, without regarding their immediate appearance or form, his purpose being to unite them by fusion, and bestow upon the mass the new shape which his art destines it to represent.

With these views, Napoleon said to SiÊyes, who reprobated the admission of FouchÉ into office and power, "we are creating a new era. Of the past, we must forget the bad, and only remember the good. Time, habits of business, and experience, have formed many able men, and modified many characters."[510] These words may be regarded as the key-note of his whole system. Buonaparte did not care what men had been formerly, so that they were now disposed to become that which was suitable for his interest, and for which he was willing to reward them liberally. The former conduct of persons of talent, whether in politics or morality, was of no consequence, providing they were willing, now, faithfully to further and adhere to the new order of things. This prospect of immunity for the past, and reward for the future, was singularly well calculated to act upon the public mind, desirous as it was of repose, and upon that of individuals, agitated by so many hopes and fears as the Revolution had set afloat. The consular government seemed a general place of refuge and sanctuary to persons of all various opinions, and in all various predicaments. It was only required of them, in return for the safety which it afforded, that they should pay homage to the presiding deity.

So artfully was the system of Buonaparte contrived, that each of the numerous classes of Frenchmen found something in it congenial to his habits, his feelings, or his circumstances, providing only he was willing to sacrifice to it the essential part of his political principles. To the Royalist, it restored monarchical forms, a court, and a sovereign—but he must acknowledge that sovereign in Buonaparte. To the churchman, it opened the gates of the temples, removed the tyranny of the persecuting philosophers—promised in course of time a national church—but by the altar must be placed the image of Buonaparte. The Jacobin, dyed double red in murder and massacre, was welcome to safety and security from the aristocratic vengeance which he had so lately dreaded. The regicide was guaranteed against the return of the Bourbons—they who had profited by the Revolution as purchasers of national domains, were ensured against their being resumed. But it was under the implied condition, that not a word was to be mentioned by those ci-devant democrats, of liberty or equality: the principles for which forfeitures had been made, and revolutionary tribunals erected, were henceforth never to be named. To all these parties, as to others, Buonaparte held out the same hopes under the same conditions—"All these things will I give you, if you will kneel down and worship me." Shortly afterwards, he was enabled to place before those to whom the choice was submitted, the original temptation in its full extent—a display of the kingdoms of the earth, over which he offered to extend the empire of France, providing always he was himself acknowledged as the object of general obedience, and almost adoration.

The system of Buonaparte, as it combined great art with an apparent generosity and liberality, proved eminently successful among the people of France, when subjected to the semblance of a popular vote. The national spirit was exhausted by the changes and the sufferings, the wars and the crimes, of so many years; and in France, as in all other countries, parties, exhausted by the exertions and vicissitudes of civil war, are in the very situation where military tyranny becomes the next crisis. The rich favoured Buonaparte for the sake of protection,—the poor for that of relief,—the emigrants, in many cases, because they desired to return to France,—the men of the Revolution, because they were afraid of being banished from it;—the sanguine and courageous crowded round his standard in hope of victory,—the timid cowered behind it in the desire of safety. Add to these the vast multitude who follow the opinions of others, and take the road which lies most obvious, and is most trodden, and it is no wonder that the 18th Brumaire, and its consequences, received the general sanction of the people. The constitution of the year Eight, or Consular Government, was approved by the suffrages of nearly four millions of citizens,[511]—a more general approbation than any preceding system had been received with. The vote was doubtless a farce in itself, considering how many constitutions had been adopted and sworn to within so short a space; but still the numbers who expressed assent, more than doubling those votes which were obtained by the constitution of 1792 and of the year Three, indicate the superior popularity of Buonaparte's system.

To the four millions who expressly declared their adherence to the new Consular constitution, must be added the many hundreds of thousands and millions more, who were either totally indifferent upon the form of government, providing they enjoyed peace and protection under it, or who, though abstractedly preferring other rulers, were practically disposed to submit to the party in possession of the power.

Such and so extended being the principles on which Buonaparte selected the members of his government, he manifested, in choosing individuals, that wonderful penetration, by which, more perhaps than any man who ever lived, he was enabled at once to discover the person most capable of serving him, and the means of securing his attachment. Former crimes or errors made no cause of exclusion; and in several cases the alliance between the first consul and his ministers might have been compared to the marriages between the settlers on the Spanish mainland, and the unhappy females, the refuse of great cities, sent out to recruit the colony.—"I ask thee not," said the bucanier to the wife he had selected from the cargo of vice, "what has been thy former conduct; but, henceforth, see thou continue faithful to me, or this," striking his hand on his musket, "shall punish thy want of fidelity."

For second and third consuls, Buonaparte chose CambacÉrÈs,[512] a lawyer, and a member of the moderate party, with Lebrun,[513] who had formerly co-operated with the Chancellor Maupeou. The former was employed by the chief consul as his organ of communication with the Revolutionists, while Lebrun rendered him the same service with the Royal party; and although, as Madame de StaËl observes, they preached very different sermons on the same texts,[514] yet they were both eminently successful in detaching from their original factions many of either class, and uniting them with this third, or government party, which was thus composed of deserters from both. The last soon became so numerous, that Buonaparte was enabled to dispense with the bascule, or trimming system, by which alone his predecessors, the directors, had been enabled to support their power.

In the ministry, Buonaparte acted upon the same principle, selecting and making his own the men whose talents were most distinguished, without reference to their former conduct. Two were particularly distinguished, as men of the most eminent talents, and extensive experience. These were Talleyrand and FouchÉ. The former, noble by birth, and Bishop of Autun, notwithstanding his high rank in church and state, had been deeply engaged in the Revolution. He had been placed on the list of emigrants, from which his name was erased on the establishment of the Directorial government, under which he became minister of foreign affairs. He resigned that office in the summer preceding 18th Brumaire; and Buonaparte, finding him at variance with the Directory, readily passed over some personal grounds of complaint which he had against him, and enlisted in his service a supple and dexterous politician, and an experienced minister; fond, it is said, of pleasure, not insensible to views of self-interest, nor too closely fettered by principle, but perhaps unequalled in ingenuity. Talleyrand was replaced in the situation of minister for foreign affairs, after a short interval, assigned for the purpose of suffering the public to forget his prominent share in the scandalous treaty with the American commissioners, and continued for a long tract of time one of the closest sharers of Buonaparte's councils.[515]

If the character of Talleyrand bore no strong traces of public virtue or inflexible morality, that of FouchÉ was marked with still darker shades. He had been dipt in some of the worst transactions of the Reign of Terror, and his name is found among the agents of the dreadful crimes of that unhappy period. In the days of the Directory, he is stated to have profited by the universal peculation which was then practised, and to have amassed large sums by shares in contracts and brokerage in the public funds. To atone for the imperfections of a character stained with perfidy, venality, and indifference to human suffering, FouchÉ brought to Buonaparte's service a devotion, never like to fail the first consul unless his fortunes should happen to change; and a perfect experience with all the weapons of revolutionary war, and knowledge of those who were best able to wield them. He had managed under Barras's administration the department of police; and, in the course of his agency, had become better acquainted perhaps than any man in France with all the various parties in that distracted country, the points which they were desirous of reaching, the modes by which they hoped to attain them, the character of their individual leaders, and the means to gain them over or to intimidate them. Formidable by his extensive knowledge of the revolutionary springs, and the address with which he could either put them into motion, or prevent them from operating, FouchÉ, in the latter part of his life, displayed a species of wisdom which came in place of morality and benevolence.

Loving wealth and power, he was neither a man of ardent passions, nor of a vengeful disposition; and though there was no scruple in his nature to withhold him from becoming an agent in the great crimes which state policy, under an arbitrary government, must often require, yet he had a prudential and constitutional aversion to unnecessary evil, and was always wont to characterise his own principle of action, by saying, that he did as little harm as he possibly could. In his mysterious and terrible office of head of the police, he had often means of granting favours, or interposing lenity in behalf of individuals, of which he gained the full credit, while the harsh measures of which he was the agent, were set down to the necessity of his situation. By adhering to these principles of moderation, he established for himself at length a character totally inconsistent with that belonging to a member of the revolutionary committee, and resembling rather that of a timid but well-disposed servant, who, in executing his master's commands, is desirous to mitigate as much as possible their effect on individuals. It is, upon the whole, no wonder, that although SiÊyes objected to FouchÉ, from his want of principle, and Talleyrand was averse to him from jealousy, interference, and personal enmity, Napoleon chose, nevertheless, to retain in the confidential situation of minister of police, the person by whom that formidable office had been first placed on an effectual footing.[516]

Of the other ministers, it is not necessary to speak in detail. CambacÉrÈs retained the situation of minister of justice,[517] for which he was well qualified; and the celebrated mathematician, Laplace, was preferred to that of the Interior, for which he was not, according to Buonaparte's report, qualified at all.[518] Berthier, as we have already seen, filled the war department, and shortly afterwards Carnot; and Gaudin administered the finances with credit to himself. Forfait, a naval architect of eminence,[519] replaced Bourdon in the helpless and hopeless department of the French Admiralty.

A new constitution having been thus formed, and the various branches of duty distributed with much address among those best capable of discharging them, other changes were at the same time made, which were designed to mark that a new era was commenced, in which all former prejudices were to be abandoned and done away.

We have noticed that one of the first acts of the Provisional Government had been to new-modify the national oath, and generalize its terms, so that they should be no longer confined to the constitution of the year Three, but should apply to that which was about to be framed, or to any other which might be produced by the same authority.[520] Two subsequent alterations in the constitution, which passed without much notice, so much was the revolutionary or republican spirit abated, tended to show that farther changes were impending, and that the Consular Republic was speedily to adopt the name, as it already had the essence, of a monarchy. It was scarcely three months since the President of the Directory had said to the people, on the anniversary of the taking of the Bastile,—"Royalty shall never raise its head again. We shall no more behold individuals boasting a title from Heaven, to oppress the earth with more ease and security, and who considered France as their private patrimony, Frenchmen as their subjects, and the laws as the expression of their good-will and pleasure." Yet now, in contradiction to this sounding declamation, the national oath, expressing hatred to royalty, was annulled, under the pretext that the Republic, being universally acknowledged, had no occasion for the guard of such disclamations.

In like manner, the public observance of the day on which Louis XVI. had suffered decapitation, was formally abolished. Buonaparte, declining to pass a judgment on the action as just, politic, or useful, pronounced that, in any event, it could only be regarded as a national calamity, and was therefore in a moral, as well as a political sense, an unfit epoch for festive celebration. An expression of the first consul to SiÊyes was also current at the same time, which, although Buonaparte may not have used it, has been generally supposed to express his sentiments. SiÊyes had spoken of Louis under the established phrase of the Tyrant. "He was no tyrant," Buonaparte replied; "had he been such, I should have been a subaltern officer of artillery, and you, Monsieur l'AbbÉ, would have been still saying mass."[521]

A third sign of approaching change, or rather of the approaching return to the ancient system of government under a different chief, was the removal of the first consul from the apartments in the Luxembourg palace, occupied by the directors, to the royal residence of the Tuileries. Madame de StaËl beheld the entrance of this fortunate soldier into the princely residence of the Bourbons. He was already surrounded by a vassal crowd, eager to pay him the homage which the inhabitants of those splendid halls had so long claimed as their due, that it seemed to be consistent with the place, and to become the right of this new inhabitant. The doors were thrown open with a bustle and violence, expressive of the importance of the occasion. But the hero of the scene, in ascending the magnificent staircase, up which a throng of courtiers followed him, seemed totally indifferent to all around, his features bearing only a general expression of indifference to events, and contempt for mankind.[522]

The first measures of Buonaparte's new government, and the expectation attached to his name, had already gone some length in restoring domestic quiet; but he was well aware that much more must be done to render that quiet permanent; that the external relations of France with Europe must be attended to without delay; and that the French expected from him either the conclusion of an honourable peace, or the restoration of victory to their national banners. It was necessary, too, that advances towards peace should in the first place be made, in order, if they were unsuccessful, that a national spirit should be excited, which might reconcile the French to the renewal of the war with fresh energy.

Hitherto, in diplomacy, it had been usual to sound the way for opening treaties of peace by obscure and almost unaccredited agents, in order that the party willing to make propositions might not subject themselves to a haughty and insulting answer, or have their desire of peace interpreted as a confession of weakness. Buonaparte went into the opposite extreme, and addressed the King of England in a personal epistle. This Letter,[523] like that to the Archduke Charles, during the campaign of 1797, intimates Buonaparte's affectation of superiority to the usual forms of diplomacy, and his pretence to a character determined to emancipate itself from rules only designed for mere ordinary men. But the manner of the address was in bad taste, and ill calculated to obtain credit for his being sincere in the proposal of peace. He was bound to know so much of the constitutional authority of the monarch whom he addressed, as to be aware that George III. would not, and could not, contract any treaty personally, but must act by the advice of those ministers whose responsibility was his guarantee to the nation at large. The terms of the letter set forth, as usual, the blessings of peace, and urged the propriety of its being restored; propositions which could not admit of dispute in the abstract, but which admit much discussion when coupled with unreasonable or inadmissible conditions.

The answer transmitted by Lord Grenville, in the forms of diplomacy, to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, dwelt on the aggressions of France, declared that the restoration of the Bourbons would have been the best security for their sincerity, but disavowed all right to dictate to France in her internal concerns. Some advances were made to a pacific treaty; and it is probable that England might at that period have obtained the same or better terms than she afterwards got by the treaty of Amiens. It may be added, that the moderate principles expressed by the consular government, might, in the infancy of his power, and in a moment of considerable doubt, have induced Buonaparte to make sacrifices, to which, triumphant and established, he would not condescend. But the possession of Egypt, which Buonaparte must have insisted on, were it only for his own reputation, was likely to be an insuperable difficulty. The conjuncture also appeared to the English ministers propitious for carrying on the war. Italy had been recovered, and the Austrian army, to the number of 140,000, were menacing Savoy, and mustering on the Rhine. Buonaparte, in the check received before Acre, had been found not absolutely invincible. The exploits of Suwarrow over the French were recent, and had been decisive. The state of the interior of France was well known; and it was conceived, that though this successful general had climbed into the seat of supreme power which he found unoccupied, yet that two strong parties, of which the Royalists objected to his person, the Republicans to his form of government, could not fail, the one or other, to deprive him of his influence.

The treaty was finally broken off, on the score that there was great reason to doubt Buonaparte's sincerity; and supposing that were granted, there was at least equal room to doubt the stability of a power so hastily acknowledged, and seeming to contain in itself the principles of decay. There may be a difference of opinion in regard to Buonaparte's sincerity in the negotiation, but there can be none as to the reality of his joy at its being defeated. The voice which summoned him to war was that which sounded sweetest in his ears, since it was always followed by exertion and by victory. He had been personally offended, too, by the allusion to the legitimate rights of the Bourbons, and indulged his resentment by pasquinades in the Moniteur. A supposed letter from the last descendant of the Stuart family appeared there, congratulating the King of Britain on his acceding to the doctrine of legitimacy, and summoning him to make good his principles, by an abdication of his crown in favour of the lineal heir.[524]

The external situation of France had, as we before remarked, been considerably improved by the consequences of the battle of Zurich, and the victories of Moreau. But the Republic derived yet greater advantages from the breach between the Emperors of Austria and Russia. Paul, naturally of an uncertain temper, and offended by the management of the last campaign, in which Korsakow had been defeated, and Suwarrow checked, in consequence of their being unsupported by the Austrian army, had withdrawn his troops, so distinguished for their own bravery as well as for the talents of their leader, from the seat of war. But the Austrians, possessing a firmness of character undismayed by defeat, and encouraged by the late success of their arms under the veteran Melas, had made such gigantic exertions as to counterbalance the loss of their Russian confederates.[525]

Their principal force was in Italy, and it was on the Italian frontier that they meditated a grand effort, by which, supported by the British fleet, they proposed to reduce Genoa, and penetrate across the Var into Provence, where existed a strong body of Royalists ready to take arms, under the command of General Willot, an emigrant officer. It was said the celebrated Pichegru, who, escaped from Guiana, had taken refuge in England, was also with his army, and was proposed as a chief leader of the expected insurrection.

To execute this plan, Melas was placed at the head of an army of 140,000 men. This army was quartered for the winter in the plains of Piedmont, and waited but the approach of spring to commence operations.

Opposed to them, and occupying the country betwixt Genoa and the Var, lay a French army of 40,000 men; the relics of those who had been repeatedly defeated in Italy by Suwarrow. They were quartered in a poor country, and the English squadron, which blockaded the coast, was vigilant in preventing any supplies from being sent to them. Distress was therefore considerable, and the troops were in proportion dispirited and disorganized. Whole corps abandoned their position, contrary to orders; and, with drums beating, and colours flying, returned into France. A proclamation from Napoleon was almost alone sufficient to remedy these disorders. He called on the soldiers, and particularly those corps who had formerly distinguished themselves under his command in his Italian campaigns, to remember the confidence he had once placed in them.[526] The scattered troops returned to their duty, as war-horses when dispersed are said to rally and form ranks at the mere sound of the trumpet. Massena, an officer eminent for his acquaintance with the mode of carrying on war in a mountainous country, full of passes and strong positions, was intrusted with the command of the Italian army, which Buonaparte[527] resolved to support in person with the army of reserve.

The French army upon the Rhine possessed as great a superiority over the Austrians, as Melas, on the Italian frontier, enjoyed over Massena. Moreau was placed in the command of a large army, augmented by a strong detachment from that of General Brune, now no longer necessary for the protection of Holland, and by the army of Helvetia, which, after the defeat of Korsakow, was not farther required for the defence of Switzerland. In bestowing this great charge on Moreau, the first consul showed himself superior to the jealousy which might have dissuaded meaner minds from intrusting a rival, whose military skill was often compared with his own, with such an opportunity of distinguishing himself.[528] But Buonaparte, in this and other cases, preferred the employing and profiting by the public service of men of talents, and especially men of military eminence, to any risk which he could run from their rivalry. He had the just confidence in his own powers, never to doubt his supremacy, and trusted to the influence of discipline, and the love of their profession, which induces generals to accept of command even under the administrations of which they disapprove. In this manner he rendered dependant upon himself even those officers, who, averse to the consular form of government, inclined to republican principles. Such were Massena, Brune, Jourdan, Lecourbe, and Championnet. He took care, at the same time, by changing the commands intrusted to them, to break off all combinations or connexions which they might have formed for a new alteration of the government.

General Moreau was much superior in numbers to Kray, the Austrian who commanded on the Rhine, and received orders to resume the offensive. He was cautious in his tactics, though a most excellent officer, and was startled at the plan sent him by Buonaparte, which directed him to cross the Rhine at Schaffhausen, and, marching on Ulm with his whole force, place himself in the rear of the greater part of the Austrian army. This was one of those schemes, fraught with great victories or great reverses, which Buonaparte delighted to form, and which often requiring much sacrifice of men, occasioned his being called by those who loved him not, a general at the rate of ten thousand men per day. Such enterprises resemble desperate passes in fencing, and must be executed with the same decisive resolution with which they are formed. Few even of Buonaparte's best generals could be trusted with the execution of his master-strokes in tactics, unless under his own immediate superintendence.

Moreau invaded Germany on a more modified plan; and a series of marches, counter-marches, and desperate battles ensued, in which General Kray, admirably supported by the Archduke Ferdinand, made a gallant defence against superior numbers.

In Buonaparte's account of this campaign,[529] he blames Moreau for hesitation and timidity in following up the advantages which he obtained.[530] Yet to a less severe, perhaps to a more impartial judge, Moreau's success might seem satisfactory, since, crossing the Rhine in the end of April, he had his headquarters at Augsburg upon the 15th July, ready either to co-operate with the Italian army, or to march into the heart of the Austrian territory. Nor can it be denied that, during this whole campaign, Moreau kept in view, as a principal object, the protecting the operations of Buonaparte in Italy, and saving that chief, in his dauntless and desperate invasion of the Milanese territory, from the danger which might have ensued, had Kray found an opportunity of opening a communication with the Austrian army in Italy, and despatching troops to its support.

It may be remarked of these two great generals, that, as enterprise was the characteristic of Buonaparte's movements, prudence was that of Moreau's; and it is not unusual, even when there occur no other motives for rivals undervaluing each other, that the enterprising judge the prudent to be timid, and the prudent account the enterprising rash.

It is not ours to decide upon professional questions between men of such superior talents; and, having barely alluded to the topic, we leave Moreau at Augsburg, where he finally concluded an armistice[531] with General Kray, as a consequence of that which Buonaparte had established in Italy after the battle of Marengo. Thus much, therefore, is due in justice to Moreau. His campaign was, on the whole, crowned in its results with distinguished success.[532] And when it is considered, that he was to manoeuvre both with reference to the safety of the first consul's operations and his own, it may be doubted whether Buonaparte would, at the time, have thanked him for venturing on more hazardous measures; the result of which might have been either to obtain more brilliant victory for the army of the Rhine, in the event of success, or should they have miscarried, to have ensured the ruin of the army of Italy, as well as of that commanded by Moreau himself. There must have been a wide difference between the part which Moreau ought to act as subsidiary to Buonaparte, (to whom it will presently be seen he despatched a reinforcement of from fifteen to twenty thousand men,) and that which Buonaparte, in obedience to his daring genius, might have himself thought it right to perform. The commander-in-chief may venture much on his own responsibility, which must not be hazarded by a subordinate general, whose motions ought to be regulated upon the general plan of the campaign.

We return to the operations of Napoleon during one of the most important campaigns of his life, and in which he added—if that were still possible—to the high military reputation he had acquired.

In committing the charge of the campaign upon the Rhine to Moreau, the first consul had reserved for himself the task of bringing back victory to the French standards, on the fields in which he won his earliest laurels. His plan of victory again included a passage of the Alps, as boldly and unexpectedly as in 1795, but in a different direction. That earlier period had this resemblance to the present, that, on both occasions, the Austrians menaced Genoa; but in 1800, it was only from the Italian frontier and the Col di Tende, whereas, in 1795, the enemy were in possession of the mountains of Savoy, above Genoa. Switzerland, too, formerly neutral, and allowing no passage for armies, was now as open to the march of French troops as any of their own provinces, and of this Buonaparte determined to avail himself. He was aware of the Austrian plan of taking Genoa and entering Provence; and he formed the daring resolution to put himself at the head of the army of reserve, surmount the line of the Alps, even where they are most difficult of access, and, descending into Italy, place himself in the rear of the Austrian army, interrupt their communications, carry off their magazines, parks, and hospitals, coop them up betwixt his own army and that of Massena, which was in their front, and compel them to battle, in a situation where defeat must be destruction. But to accomplish this daring movement, it was necessary to march a whole army over the highest chain of mountains in Europe, by roads which afford but a dangerous passage to the solitary traveller, and through passes where one man can do more to defend, than ten to force their way. Artillery was to be carried through sheep-paths and over precipices impracticable to wheel-carriages; ammunition and baggage were to be transported at the same disadvantages; and provisions were to be conveyed through a country poor in itself, and inhabited by a nation which had every cause to be hostile to France, and might therefore be expected prompt to avail themselves of any opportunity which should occur of revenging themselves for her late aggressions.[533]

The strictest secrecy was necessary, to procure even the opportunity of attempting this audacious plan of operations; and to ensure this secrecy, Buonaparte had recourse to a singular mode of deceiving the enemy. It was made as public as possible, by orders, decrees, proclamations, and the like, that the first consul was to place himself at the head of the army of reserve, and that it was to assemble at Dijon. Accordingly, a numerous staff was sent, and much apparent bustle took place in assembling there six or seven thousand men with great pomp and fracas. These, as the spies of Austria truly reported to their employers, were either conscripts, or veterans unfit for service; and caricatures were published of the first consul reviewing troops composed of children and disabled soldiers, which was ironically termed his army of reserve.[534] When an army so composed was reviewed by the first consul himself with great ceremony, it impressed a general belief that Buonaparte was only endeavouring, by making a show of force, to divert the Austrians from their design upon Genoa, and thus his real purpose was effectually concealed. Bulletins, too, were privately circulated by the agents of police, as if scattered by the Royalists, in which specious arguments were used to prove that the French army of reserve neither did, nor could exist—and these also were designed to withdraw attention from the various points on which it was at the very moment collecting.[535]

The pacification of the west of France had placed many good troops at Buonaparte's disposal, which had previously been engaged against the Chouans; the quiet state of Paris permitted several regiments to be detached from the capital. New levies were made with the utmost celerity; and the divisions of the army of reserve were organized separately, and at different places of rendezvous, but ready to form a junction when they should receive the signal for commencing operations.