time he put the same question to a tribune, who, from
the desire of pleasing him, answered: “Well,
general, if our enemies take measures against us,
we are in the right to do the same against them;”
not perceiving that this was tantamount to a confession
that the deed was atrocious. The first consul
affected to consider this act as dictated by reasons
of state. One day, about this period, in a discussion
with an intelligent man about the plays of Corneille,
he said, “You see that the public safety, or
to express it better, that state necessity, has with
the moderns been substituted in the place of the fatality
of the ancients: there is, for instance, such
a man, who naturally would be incapable of a crime,
but political circumstances impose it upon him as
a law. Corneille is the only one who has shewn,
in his tragedies, an acquaintance with state necessity;
on that account, if he had lived in my time, I would
have made him my prime minister.” All this
appearance of good humour in the discussion was intended
to prove that there was nothing of passion in the
death of the Duke d’Enghien, and that circumstances,
meaning such as the head of the state is exclusively
the judge of, might cause and justify every thing.
That there was nothing of passion in his resolution
about the Duke d’Enghien, is perfectly true;
people would have it that rage inspired the crime,—it
had nothing to do with it. By what could this
rage have been provoked? The Duke d’Enghien
had in no way provoked the first consul: Bonaparte
hoped at first to have got hold of the Duke de Berry,
who it was said, was to have landed in Normandy, if
Pichegru had given him notice that it was a proper
time. This prince is nearer the throne than the
Duke d’Enghien, and besides, he would by coming
into France have infringed the existing laws.
It therefore suited Bonaparte in every way better
to have sacrificed him than the Duke d’Enghien;
but as he could not get at the first, he chose the
second, in discussing the matter in cold blood.
Between the order for carrying him off, and that for
his execution, more than eight days had elapsed, and
Bonaparte ordered the punishment of the Duke d’Enghien
long beforehand, as coolly, as he has since sacrificed
millions of men to the caprices of his ambition.
We now ask, what were the motives of this horrible
action, and I believe it is very easy to penetrate
them. First, Bonaparte wished to secure the revolutionary
party, by contracting with it an alliance of blood.
An old jacobin, when he heard the news, exclaimed,
“So much the better! General Bonaparte
is now become one of the convention.” For
a long time the jacobins would only have a man who
had voted for the death of the king, for the first
magistrate of the republic; that was what they termed,
giving pledges to the revolution. Bonaparte fulfilled
this condition of crime, substituted for that of property
required in other countries; he thus afforded the
certainty that he would never serve the Bourbons;
and thus such of that party as attached themselves
to his, burnt their vessels, never to return.