It was here, at Leoben, that Buonaparte’s schoolfellow, De Bourienne, who had been summoned to act as secretary to the general, reached headquarters.  He found his old comrade (whom he had not met with since the days of his envying small houses and cabriolets in Paris) in the midst of a splendid staff.  “So thou art come at last,” cried Napoleon, in the ancient tone of familiarity; but De Bourienne knew the world, and greeted the general of the army of Italy with profound and distant respect.  When the company were gone, Buonaparte signified that he understood and approved this change of demeanour.

But to resume—­no sooner was the negotiation in a fair train, than Napoleon, abandoning for the moment the details of its management to inferior diplomatists, hastened to retrace his steps, and pour the full storm of his wrath on the Venetians.  The Doge and the Senate, whose only hopes had rested on the successes of Austria on the Adige, heard with utter despair that the Archduke had shared the fate of Beaulieu, of Wurmser, and of Alvinzi, and that the preliminaries of peace were actually signed.  The rapidity of Buonaparte’s return gave them no breathing-time.  They hastened to send offers of submission, and their messengers were received with anger and contempt.  “French blood has been treacherously shed,” said Napoleon; “if you could offer me the treasures of Peru, if you could cover your whole dominion with gold—­the atonement would be insufficient—­the lion of St. Mark[17] must lick the dust.”  These tidings came like a sentence of death upon the devoted Senate.  Their deliberations were unceasing; their schemes innumerable; their hearts divided and unnerved.  Those secret chambers, from which that haughty oligarchy had for so many ages excluded every eye and every voice but their own, were invaded with impunity by strange-faced men, who boldly criticised their measures, and heaped new terrors on their heads, by announcing that the mass of the people had ceased to consider the endurance of their sway as synonymous with the prosperity of Venice.  Popular tumults filled the streets and canals; universal confusion prevailed.  The commanders of their troops and fleets received contradictory orders, and the city which

    “—­had held the gorgeous East in fee,”

seemed ready to yield everything to a ruthless and implacable enemy, without even striking a blow in defence.

Buonaparte appeared, while the confusion was at its height, on the opposite coast of the Lagoon.  Some of his troops were already in the heart of the city, when (31st May) a hasty message reached him, announcing that the Senate submitted wholly.  He exacted severe revenge.  The leaders who had aided the Lombard insurgents were delivered to him.  The oligarchy ceased to rule, and a democratical government was formed, provisionally, on the model of France.  Venice consented to surrender to the victor large territories on the mainland of Italy; five ships of war; 3,000,000 francs in gold, and as many more in naval stores; twenty of the best pictures, and 500 manuscripts.  Lastly, the troops of the conqueror were to occupy the capital until tranquillity was established.  It will be seen in what that tranquillity was destined to consist.