The French Revolution was now (1789–90) getting under full headway. The States-General had met on May 5, 1789; the Third Estate had asserted and made good its supremacy. The King having ordered up troops and dismissed Necker, riots followed; the Bastille was taken and demolished. The nobles who had persuaded Louis XVI. to adopt the measures which provoked the riots, fled to foreign lands. Louis was brought from Versailles to Paris, Bailly was made mayor of the city, Lafayette commander of the National Guard, and on the night session of August 4, feudalism, losing hope, offered itself up as a sacrifice to the Revolution.

Liberty, fraternity, equality, freedom of conscience, liberty of the press, were proclaimed; and the mighty movement which was shaking down the Old Order was felt at Auxonne as in Paris. The officers, as a rule, were for the King; the soldiers for the nation. Society ladies and governmental officials were royalists, generally; so, also, the higher clericals. The curÉs and the masses of the people were for the Revolution.

Instinctively, and without the slightest hesitation, Napoleon took sides with the nation. He needed no coercion, no change of heart; he was already an enemy of the Ancien RÉgime, and had been so from his first years in France. “How does it happen that you, Napoleon, favor democracy? You are a noble, educated at a school where none but nobles can enter; you are an officer, a position none but nobles may hold; you wear the King’s livery; you are fed on his bounty: where did you get your republican principles?”

Supposing such a question to have been put, we can imagine the answer to have been something like this:—

“I go with the reformers partly because I hate the Old Order, partly because I see in the coming changes a chance for me to rise, and partly because I believe the reformers are right. I have read books which gave me new ideas; I have thought for myself, and reached conclusions of my own. The stupid monk who threw my schoolboy essay into the fire at Brienne because it criticised royalty, only stimulated my defiance and my independence. I have seen what your system of education is, and condemn it; have learnt what your nobles are, and detest them. I have seen the Church, which preaches the beauties of poverty, rob my family of a rich inheritance, and I loathe the hypocrisy. I have read Rousseau, and believe in his gospel; have studied Raynal, and agree that abuses must be reformed. I have looked into the conduct of kings, and believe that there are few who do not deserve to be dethroned. The privileged have combined, have closed the avenues of progress to the lower classes, have taken for a few what is the common heritage of all. The people are the source of power—those below not those above. I am poor, I hate those above me, I long to be rich, powerful, admired. If things remain as they are, I shall never be heard of: revolution will change all. New men will rise to make the most of new opportunities. Hence I am a Jacobin, a democrat, a republican—call it what you will. I am for putting the premium on manhood. The tools to him who can use them! As to the King’s uniform and bounty—bah!—you must take me for a child. The King gives nothing, is nothing; the nation gives all, and is everything. I go with the nation!”

With such thoughts fermenting in his head, Napoleon reached home, and at once began to agitate the politics of the island. Corsica was far out of the track of the Revolution, and the people had not been maddened by the abuses which prevailed in France. The one great national grievance in Corsica was French domination. Therefore to arouse the island and put it in line with revolutionary France, was a huge task. Nevertheless Napoleon and other young men set about it. Copying the approved French method, he formed a revolutionary committee, and began to organize a national guard. He became a violent speaker in the Jacobin club, and a most active agitator in the town. Soon the little city of Ajaccio was in commotion.

Paoli’s agents bestirred themselves throughout the island. In some towns the patriot party rose against the French authorities. In Ajaccio the royalist party proved the stronger. The French commandant, De Barrin, closed the democratic club and proclaimed martial law. The patriots met in one of the churches, on the night of October 31, 1789, and signed a vigorous protest and appeal to the National Assembly of France. This paper was written by Napoleon, and he was one of those who signed.

Baulked in Ajaccio, Napoleon turned to Bastia, the capital. Agitating there and distributing tricolored cockades which he had ordered from Leghorn, he soon got matters so well advanced that he headed a deputation which waited upon the royal commandant and demanded that he, too, should adopt the national cockade. De Barrin, the commandant, refused. A riot broke out, and he consented. Napoleon agitated for a national guard. Deputations sought the governor and requested his sanction. He refused. One morning the streets were thronged with patriots, armed, marching to one of the churches to be enrolled. De Barrin called out his troops, trained cannon on the church, and set his columns in motion to attack. Shots were exchanged, two French soldiers killed, two wounded, and an officer got a bullet in the groin. Several Bastians, including two children, were wounded. De Barrin lost his head, yielded at all points, and ordered six hundred guns delivered to the insurgents. Prompt obedience not having been given to his order, the Bastians broke into the citadel, armed themselves, and insisted that they, jointly with the French, should garrison the fortress. When quiet was restored, the governor ordered Napoleon to leave, and he did so.

This episode in Napoleon’s career is related by an enemy of Napoleon, and it is to be received with caution. Yet as it is a companion piece to what he had attempted at Ajaccio, there is nothing violently incredible about it. It is certain he was very active at that time, and that he was often at Bastia. What was his purpose, if not to foment revolutionary movements?

On November 30, 1789, the National Assembly of France decreed the incorporation of Corsica with France, and amnesty for all political offenders, including Paoli. Bonfires in Corsica and general joy greeted the news. The triumph of the patriots was complete. A democratic town government for Ajaccio was organized, a friend of Napoleon was chosen mayor, and Joseph was put in place as secretary to the mayor. A local guard was raised, and Napoleon served as private member of it. At the club and on the streets he was one of the loudest agitators.

Paoli, now a hero in France as well as in Corsica, was called home by these events, received a magnificent ovation from the French, and reached Corsica, July, 1790. When he landed, after an exile of twenty-one years, the old man knelt to the ground and kissed it.

Supported by the town government, Napoleon renewed his activity, the immediate object aimed at being the capture of the citadel. He made himself intensely disagreeable to the royalists. Upon one occasion, during a religious procession, he was attacked by the Catholics, as an enemy of the Church. His efforts to seize the citadel came to nothing. There was an uprising of the revolutionists in the town, but the French officials fled into the citadel and prepared to defend it. Napoleon advised an attack, but the town authorities lost heart. They decided not to fight, but to protest; and Napoleon drew up the paper.

The people of Corsica met in local district meetings and chose delegates to an assembly which was to elect departmental and district councils to govern the island. This general assembly met at Orezzo, September 9, 1790, and remained in session a month. Among the delegates were Joseph Bonaparte and Uncle Fesch. Napoleon attended and took an active part in the various meetings which were held in connection with the work of the assembly. He was a frequent speaker at these meetings, and, while timid and awkward at first, soon became one of the most popular orators.

It was while he was on his way to Orezzo, that Napoleon first met Paoli. The old hero gave the young man a distinguished reception. Attended by a large cavalcade, the two rode over the fatal field of Ponte Nuovo. Paoli pointed out the various positions the troops had occupied, and related the incidents of that lamentable day. Napoleon’s comments, his peculiar and original thought and speech, struck Paoli forcibly; and he is said to have remarked that Napoleon was not modern, but reminded him of Plutarch’s heroes. Napoleon himself, when at St. Helena, represents Paoli as often patting him on the head and making the remark above mentioned.

The assembly at Orezzo voted that Corsica should constitute one department, and that Paoli should be its president. He was also made commander-in-chief of the National Guard. The conduct of Buttafuoco and Peretti who had been representing Corsica in France, was condemned. Pozzo di Borgo and Gentili were chosen to declare to the National Assembly the loyalty of Corsica to the principles of the French Revolution.

Napoleon had endeavored to secure the election of Joseph Bonaparte to the general directory of the department. In this he failed, but Joseph was chosen as one of the district directory for Ajaccio.

During the sitting of the convention Napoleon wiled away many an hour in familiar intercourse with the peasantry. He visited them at their huts, made himself at home by their firesides, and interested himself in their affairs. He revived some of the old Corsican festivals, and the target practice which had long been forbidden. Out of his own purse he offered prizes for the best marksmen. In this manner he won the hearts of the mountaineers—a popularity which was of value to him soon afterward.

Returned to Ajaccio, Napoleon continued to take prominent part in the debates of the club, and he also continued his efforts at authorship. He threw off an impassioned “open letter” to Buttafuoco. This was his first successful writing. With imperial pride, it is dated “from my summer house of Milleli.” Stimulated perhaps by the applause with which young Corsican patriots hailed his bitter and powerful arraignment of a traitor, Napoleon ventured to compete for the prize which Raynal, through the Academy of Lyons, had offered for the best essay on the subject “What truths and ideas should be inculcated in order best to promote the happiness of mankind.” His essay was severely criticised by the learned professors, and its author, of course, failed of the prize.

It was on the plea that his health was shattered, and that the waters of Orezzo were good for his complaint, that Napoleon had been enabled to prolong his stay in Corsica. In February, 1791, he rejoined his regiment at Auxonne. His leave had expired long since, but his colonel kindly antedated his return. Napoleon had procured false certificates, to the effect that he had been kept in Corsica by storms. To ease his mother’s burden, he brought with him his little brother Louis, now twelve years old, whose support and schooling Napoleon proposed to take upon himself. To maintain the two upon his slender pay of lieutenant required the most rigorous economy. He avoided society, ate often nothing but bread, carried on his own studies, and taught Louis. The affectionate, fatherly, self-denying interest he took in the boy beautifully illustrates the better side of his complex character.

During the Empire an officer, whose pay was $200 per month, complained to Napoleon that it was not enough. The Emperor did not express the contempt he felt, but spoke of the pittance upon which he had been made to live. “When I was lieutenant, I ate dry bread; but I shut the door on my poverty.”

It was at DÔle, near Auxonne, that the letter to Buttafuoco was printed. Napoleon used to rise early, walk to DÔle, correct the proofs, and walk back to Auxonne, a distance of some twenty miles, before dinner.

In June, 1791, Napoleon became first lieutenant, with a yearly salary of about $260, and was transferred to the Fourth Regiment, stationed at Valence. Glad of the promotion and the slight increase in salary, he did not relish the transfer, and he applied for leave to remain at Auxonne. Permission was refused, and he quitted the place, owing (for a new uniform, a sword, and some wood) about $23. Several years passed before he was able to pay off these debts.

Back in Valence, he again lodged with old Mademoiselle Bou, he and Louis. He continued his studies, and continued to teach Louis. His former friends were dead, or had moved away, and he did not go into society as he had done before; his position was too dismal, his poverty too real. He lived much in his room, reading, studying, composing. Travels, histories, works which treated of politics, of ecclesiastical affairs and institutions, attracted him specially. No longer seen in elegant drawing-rooms, he was the life of the political club. He became, successively, librarian, secretary, and president. All this while the Revolution had been rolling on. The wealth of the Church was confiscated. Paper money was issued. The Festival of the Federation was solemnized. Necker lost his grip on the situation, and fled. Mirabeau became the hope of the moderates. Danton, Robespierre, Marat, became influential radicals. The Jacobin club rose to power. There developed the great feud between the Church and the Revolution, and factions began to shed blood in many parts of France. The old-maid aunts of the King fled the realm, causing immense excitement.

In April, 1791, Mirabeau died. His alliance with the court not being then known, his death called forth universal sorrow and memorial services. At Valence the republican club held such a service, and Napoleon is said to have delivered an address. Then came the flight of the King to Varennes. Upon this event also the club at Valence passed judgment, amid excitement and violent harangues.

In July, 1791, the national oath of allegiance to the new order of things was taken at Valence with imposing ceremony, as it was throughout the country. The constitution had not been finished; but the French of that day had the faith which works wonders, and they took the oath with boundless enthusiasm.

There was a monster meeting near Valence: a huge altar, a grand coming together, on common ground, of dignitaries high and low, officials of Church and State, citizens of all degrees. Patriotism for one brief moment made them all members of one fond family. “We swear to be faithful to the Nation, the law, and the King; to maintain the constitution; and to remain united to all Frenchmen by the bonds of brotherhood.” They all swore it, amid patriotic shouts, songs, cannon thunder, band music, and universal ecstasy. Mass had begun the ceremony, a Te Deum ended it. At night there was a grand banquet, and one of those who proposed a toast was Napoleon. Of course he was one of those who had taken the oath.

“Previous to this time,” said he, later, “had I been ordered to fire upon the people, habit, prejudice, education, and the King’s name would have induced me to obey. With the taking of the national oath it was otherwise; my instinct and my duty were henceforth in harmony.”

Kings and aristocrats throughout the world were turning black looks upon France, and an invasion was threatened. The Revolution must be put down. It was a fire which might spread. This threat of foreign intervention had an electrical effect upon the French, rousing them to resistance.

Paris was the storm centre, Napoleon was highly excited, and to Paris he was most eager to go. Urgently he wrote to his great-uncle, the archdeacon, to send him three hundred francs to pay his way to Paris. “There one can push to the forefront. I feel assured of success. Will you bar my road for the lack of a hundred crowns?” The archdeacon did not send the money. Napoleon also wrote for six crowns his mother owed him. The six crowns seem not to have been sent.

This anecdote of Napoleon’s sojourn at Valence is preserved by the local gossips: Early one morning the surgeon of the regiment went to Napoleon’s room to speak to Louis. Napoleon had long since risen, and was reading. Louis was yet asleep. To arouse the lad, Napoleon took his sabre and knocked with the scabbard on the ceiling above. Louis soon came down, rubbing his eyes and complaining of having been waked in the midst of a beautiful dream—a dream in which Louis had figured as a king. “You a king!” said Napoleon; “I suppose I was an emperor then.”

The keenest pang Napoleon ever suffered from the ingratitude of those he had favored, was given him by this same Louis, for whom he had acted the devoted, self-denying father. Not only was Louis basely ungrateful in the days of the Napoleonic prosperity, but he pursued his brother with vindictive meanness when that brother lay dying at St. Helena, publishing a libel on him so late as 1820.

A traveller in Corsica (Gregorovius, 1852) writes: “We sat around a large table and regaled ourselves with an excellent supper.... A dim olive-oil lamp lit the Homeric wanderers’ meal. Many a bumper was drunk to the heroes of Corsica. We were of four nations,—Corsicans, French, Germans, and Lombards. I once mentioned the name of Louis Bonaparte, and asked a question. The company suddenly became silent, and the gay Frenchman looked ashamed.”

In August, 1791, Napoleon obtained another furlough, and with about $80, which he had borrowed from the paymaster of his regiment, he and Louis set out for home. Again he left debts behind him, one of them being his board bill.