No. 8 To Josephine
Pistoia, Tuscany, June 26th.
For a month I have only received from my dear love two letters of three lines each. Is she so busy, that writing to her dear love is not then needful for her, nor, consequently, thinking about him? To live without thinking of Josephine would be death and annihilation to your husband. Your image gilds my fancies, and enlivens the black and sombre picture of melancholy and grief. A day perhaps may come in which I shall see you, for I doubt not you will be still at Paris, and verily on that day I will show you my pockets stuffed with letters that I have not sent you because they are too foolish (bête). Yes, that’s the word. Good heavens! tell me, you who know so well how to make others love you without being in love yourself, do you know how to cure me of love??? I will give a good price for that remedy.
You ought to have started on May 24th. Being good-natured, I waited till June 1st, as if a pretty woman would give up her habits, her friends, both Madame Tallien and a dinner with Barras, and the acting of a new play, and Fortuné; yes, Fortuné, whom you love much more than your husband, for whom you have only a little of the esteem, and a share of that benevolence with which your heart abounds. Every day I count up your misdeeds. I lash myself to fury in order to love you no more. Bah, don’t I love you the more? In fact, my peerless little mother, I will tell you my secret. Set me at defiance, stay at Paris, have lovers—let everybody know it—never write me a monosyllable! then I shall love you ten times more for it; and it is not folly, a delirious fever! and I shall not get the better of it. Oh! would to heaven I could get better! but don’t tell me you are ill, don’t try to justify yourself. Good heavens! you are pardoned. I love you to distraction, and never will my poor heart cease to give all for love. If you did not love me, my fate would be indeed grotesque. You have not written me; you are ill, you do not come. But you have passed Lyons; you will be at Turin on the 28th, at Milan on the 30th, where you will wait for me. You will be in Italy, and I shall be still far from you. Adieu, my well-beloved; a kiss on thy mouth, another on thy heart.
We have made peace with Rome—who gives us money. To-morrow we shall be at Leghorn, and as soon as I can in your arms, at your feet, on your bosom.
A la citoyenne Bonaparte, &c.
June 27th.—Leghorn occupied by Murat and Vaubois.
June 29th.—Surrender of citadel of Milan; 1600 prisoners and 150 cannon taken.
Series B
(1796-97)
“Des 1796, lorsque, avec 30,000 hommes, il fait la conquête de l’Italie, il est non-seulement grand général, mais profond politique.”
—Des Idées Napoléonniennes.
“Your Government has sent against me four armies without Generals, and this time a General without an army.”—Napoleon to the Austrian Plenipotentiaries, at Leoben.
Series B
(For subjoined Notes to this Series see pages 211-223.)
| LETTER | PAGE | |
| No. 1. | Sortie from Mantua | 211 |
| No. 2. | Marmirolo | 211 |
| Fortuné | 212 | |
| No. 3. | The village of Virgil | 212 |
| No. 4. | Achille | 212 |
| No. 5. | Will-o’-the-Wisp | 213 |
| No. 6. | The needs of the army | 213-215 |
| No. 7. | Brescia | 215 |
| No. 9. | I hope we shall get into Trent | 216 |
| No. 12. | One of these nights the doors will be burst open | 216-218 |
| No. 13. | Corsica is ours | 218 |
| No. 14. | Verona | 219 |
| No. 15. | Once more I breathe freely | 220 |
| No. 18. | “The 29th” | 220 |
| No. 20. | General Brune | 221 |
| No. 21. | February 3rd | 221 |
| No. 24. | Perhaps I shall make peace with the Pope | 222 |
| No. 25. | The unlimited power you hold over me | 222 |