“The Duke de Serbelloni,” writes she, “will tell you, my dear aunt, how I have been received in Italy; how, wherever I passed, they celebrated my arrival; how all the Italian princes, even the Duke of Tuscany, the emperor’s brother, gave festivities in my honor.  Well, then, I would prefer to live as a plain citizeness of France.  I like not the honorable distinctions of this country.  They weary me.  It is true, my health inclines me to be sad.  I often feel very ill.  If fate would bring me good health, then I should be entirely happy.  I possess the most amiable husband that can be found.  I have no occasion to desire anything.  My wishes are his.  The whole day he is worshipping me as if I were a deity; it is impossible to find a better husband.  He writes often to my children—­he loves them much.  He sent to Hortense, through M. Serbelloni, a beautiful enamelled repeating watch, ornamented with fine pearls; to Eugene he sent also a fine gold watch.” [Footnote:  Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 349.]

But soon these days of quietness and happiness were to be broken; the armistice was drawing to a close, when, with redoubled energy, Bonaparte, who had received from the government the wished-for re-enforcements, longed to resume the war with Austria, which on her side had sent another army into Italy, under General Alvinzi, to relieve Mantua, and to deliver Wurmser from his peril.

On the 13th of August Bonaparte left Milan and returned to Brescia, where he established his headquarters, and where, with all the speed and restlessness of a warrior longing for victory, he made his preparations for the coming conflict.

But amid the anxieties, the cares, the chances of this new campaign, his heart remained behind in Milan with his Josephine; when the general began to rest, the lover began to breathe.  No sooner were the battle-plans, the fight, the preparations and the dispositions accomplished, than all his thoughts returned to Josephine, and he had again recourse to his written correspondence with his adored wife; for although he longed so much to have her with him, yet he was unwilling to occasion her so much inconvenience and so many privations.

Bonaparte’s letters are again way-marks during his glorious path of victory and triumph, while he was over-running Italy with wondrous rapidity—­but, instead of relating these conquests, we turn to his letters to Josephine.  Already, on his way to Brescia, he had written her several times.  The very day after reaching there, after having made the necessary military arrangements, Bonaparte wrote to her: 

“Brescia, the 14th Fructidor, Year iv. (August 31, 1795).

“I am leaving for Verona.  I have hoped in vain to receive a letter from you; this makes me wretched and restless.  At the time of my departure, you were somewhat suffering; I pray you, do not leave me in such a state of disquietude.  You had promised me a greater punctuality; your tongue, then, chimed in with your heart. ...; you, whom Nature has gifted with a sweet disposition, with joyousness, and every thing which is agreeable, how can you forget him who loves you so warmly?  Three days without a letter from you!  I have during that time written to you several.  Separation is horrible; the nights are long, tiresome, and insipid; the days are monotonous.”