a Corsican falcon, pining for action, and fretting
its soaring spirit in that vapid town life. Action
Buonaparte might have had, but only of a kind that
he loathed. He might have commanded the troops
destined to crush the brave royalist peasants of La
Vendee. But, whether from scorn of such vulture-work,
or from an instinct that a nobler quarry might be
started at Paris, he refused to proceed to the Army
of the West, and on the plea of ill-health remained
in the capital. There he spent his time deeply
pondering on politics and strategy. He designed
a history of the last two years, and drafted a plan
of campaign for the Army of Italy, which, later on,
was to bear him to fortune. Probably the geographical
insight which it displayed may have led to his appointment
(August 20th, 1795) to the topographical bureau of
the Committee of Public Safety. His first thought
on hearing of this important advancement was that
it opened up an opportunity for proceeding to Turkey
to organize the artillery of the Sultan; and in a
few days he sent in a formal request to that effect—the
first tangible proof of that yearning after the Orient
which haunted him all through life. But, while
straining his gaze eastwards, he experienced a sharp
rebuff. The Committee was on the point of granting
his request, when an examination of his recent conduct
proved him guilty of a breach of discipline in not
proceeding to his Vendean command. On the very
day when one department of the Committee empowered
him to proceed to Constantinople, the Central Committee
erased his name from the list of general officers
(September 15th).
This time the blow seemed fatal. But Fortune
appeared to compass his falls only in order that he
might the more brilliantly tower aloft. Within
three weeks he was hailed as the saviour of the new
republican constitution. The cause of this almost
magical change in his prospects is to be sought in
the political unrest of France, to which we must now
briefly advert.
All through this summer of 1795 there were conflicts
between Jacobins and royalists. In the south
the latter party had signally avenged itself for the
agonies of the preceding years, and the ardour of the
French temperament seemed about to drive that hapless
people from the “Red Terror” to a veritable
“White Terror,” when two disasters checked
the course of the reaction. An attempt of a large
force of emigrant French nobles, backed up by British
money and ships, to rouse Brittany against the Convention
was utterly crushed by the able young Hoche; and nearly
seven hundred prisoners were afterwards shot down in
cold blood (July). Shortly before this blow,
the little prince styled Louis XVII. succumbed to
the brutal treatment of his gaolers at the Temple
in Paris; and the hopes of the royalists now rested
on the unpopular Comte de Provence. Nevertheless,
the political outlook in the summer of 1795 was not
reassuring to the republicans; and the Commission of
Eleven, empowered by the Convention to draft new organic