Honore de Balzac (30 page)

Malin was long in the confidence of Louis XVIII., to whom his varied
experience was useful. He had greatly aided in overthrowing Decazes, and
had given much good advice to the ministry of Villele. Coldly received
by Charles X., he had adopted all the rancors of Talleyrand. He was now
in high favor under the twelfth government he had served since 1789, and
which in turn he would doubtless betray. For the last fifteen months he
had broken the long friendship which had bound him for thirty-six years
to our greatest diplomat, the Prince de Talleyrand. It was in the course
of this very evening that he made answer to some one who asked why the
Prince showed such hostility to the Duc de Bordeaux, "The Pretender is
too young!"

"Singular advice to give young men," remarked Rastignac.

De Marsay, who grew thoughtful after Madame de Cadignan's reproachful
speech, took no notice of these jests. He looked askance at Gondreville
and was evidently biding his time until that now old man, who went to
bed early, had taken leave. All present, who had witnessed the abrupt
departure of Madame de Cinq-Cygne (whose reasons were well-known to
them), imitated de Marsay's conduct and kept silence. Gondreville,
who had not recognized the marquise, was ignorant of the cause of the
general reticence, but the habit of dealing with public matters had
given him a certain tact; he was moreover a clever man; he saw that his
presence was embarrassing to the company and he took leave. De Marsay,
standing with his back to the fire, watched the slow departure of the
old man in a manner which revealed the gravity of his thoughts.

"I did wrong, madame, not to tell you the name of my negotiator," said
the prime minister, listening for the sound of Malin's wheels as they
rolled away. "But I will redeem my fault and give you the means of
making your peace with the Cinq-Cygnes. It is now thirty years since the
affair I am about to speak of took place; it is as old to the present
day as the death of Henri IV. (which between ourselves and in spite
of the proverb is still a mystery, like so many other historical
catastrophes). I can, however, assure you that even if this affair did
not concern Madame de Cinq-Cygne it would be none the less curious and
interesting. Moreover, it throws light on a celebrated exploit in our
modern annals,—I mean that of the Mont Saint-Bernard. Messieurs les
Ambassadeurs," he added, bowing to the two diplomats, "will see that in
the element of profound intrigue the political men of the present day
are far behind the Machiavellis whom the waves of the popular will
lifted, in 1793, above the storm,—some of whom have 'found,' as the old
song says, 'a haven.' To be anything in France in these days a man must
have been tossed in those tempests."

"It seems to me," said the princess, smiling, "that from that point of
view the present state of things under your regime leaves nothing to be
desired."

A well-bred laugh went round the room, and even the prime minister
himself could not help smiling. The ambassadors seemed impatient for the
tale; de Marsay coughed dryly and silence was obtained.

"On a June night in 1800," began the minister, "about three in the
morning, just as daylight was beginning to pale the brilliancy of the
wax candles, two men tired of playing at
bouillotte
(or who were
playing merely to keep others employed) left the salon of the ministry
of foreign affairs, then situated in the rue du Bac, and went apart into
a boudoir. These two men, of whom one is dead and the other has
one
foot in the grave, were, each in his own way, equally extraordinary.
Both had been priests; both had abjured religion; both were married. One
had been merely an Oratorian, the other had worn the mitre of a bishop.
The first was named Fouche; I shall not tell you the name of the
second;
[1]
both were then mere simple citizens—with very little
simplicity. When they were seen to leave the salon and enter the
boudoir, the rest of the company present showed a certain curiosity. A
third person followed them,—a man who thought himself far stronger than
the other two. His name was Sieyes, and you all know that he too
had been a priest before the Revolution. The one who
walked with
difficulty
was then the minister of foreign affairs; Fouche was
minister of police; Sieyes had resigned the consulate.

"A small man, cold and stern in appearance, left his seat and followed
the three others, saying aloud in the hearing of the person from whom I
have the information, 'I mistrust the gambling of priests.' This man was
Carnot, minister of war. His remark did not trouble the two consuls who
were playing cards in the salon. Cambaceres and Lebrun were then at the
mercy of their ministers, men who were infinitely stronger than they.

"Nearly all these statesmen are dead, and no secrecy is due to
them. They belong to history; and the history of that night and its
consequences has been terrible. I tell it to you now because I alone
know it; because Louis XVIII. never revealed the truth to that poor
Madame de Cinq-Cygne; and because the present government which I serve
is wholly indifferent as to whether the truth be known to the world or
not.

"All four of these personages sat down in the boudoir. The lame man
undoubtedly closed the door before a word was said; it is even thought
that he ran the bolt. It is only persons of high rank who pay attention
to such trifles. The three priests had the livid, impassible faces which
you all remember. Carnot alone was ruddy. He was the first to speak.
'What is the point to be discussed?' he asked. 'France,' must have been
the answer of the Prince (whom I admire as one of the most extraordinary
men of our time). 'The Republic,' undoubtedly said Fouche. 'Power,'
probably said Sieyes."

All present looked at each other. With voice, look, and gesture de
Marsay had wonderfully represented the three men.

"The three priests fully understood one another," he continued, resuming
his narrative. "Carnot no doubt looked at his colleagues and the
ex-consul in a dignified manner. He must, however, have felt bewildered
in his own mind.

"'Do you believe in the success of the army?' Sieyes said to him.

"'We may expect everything from Bonaparte,' replied the minister of war;
'he has crossed the Alps.'

"'At this moment,' said the minister of foreign affairs, with deliberate
slowness, 'he is playing his last stake.'

"'Come, let's speak out,' said Fouche; 'what shall we do if the First
Consul is defeated? Is it possible to collect another army? Must we
continue his humble servants?'

"'There is no republic now,' remarked Sieyes; 'Bonaparte is consul for
ten years.'

"'He has more power than ever Cromwell had,' said the former bishop,
'and he did not vote for the death of the king.'

"'We have a master,' said Fouche; 'the question is, shall we continue to
keep him if he loses the battle or shall we return to a pure republic?'

"'France,' replied Carnot, sententiously, 'cannot resist except she
reverts to the old Conventional
energy
.'

"'I agree with Carnot,' said Sieyes; 'if Bonaparte returns defeated we
must put an end to him; he has let us know him too well during the last
seven months.'

"'The army is for him,' remarked Carnot, thoughtfully.

"'And the people for us!' cried Fouche.

"'You go fast, monsieur,' said the Prince, in that deep bass voice which
he still preserves and which now drove Fouche back into himself.

"'Be frank,' said a voice, as a former Conventional rose from a corner
of the boudoir and showed himself; 'if Bonaparte returns a victor, we
shall adore him; if vanquished, we'll bury him!'

"'So you were there, Malin, were you?' said the Prince, without
betraying the least feeling. 'Then you must be one of us; sit down'; and
he made him a sign to be seated.

"It is to this one circumstance that Malin, a Conventional of small
repute, owes the position he afterwards obtained and, ultimately, that
in which we see him at the present moment. He proved discreet, and
the ministers were faithful to him; but they made him the pivot of the
machine and the cat's-paw of the machination. To return to my tale.

"'Bonaparte has never yet been vanquished,' cried Carnot, in a tone of
conviction, 'and he has just surpassed Hannibal.'

"'If the worst happens, here is the Directory,' said Sieyes, artfully,
indicating with a wave of his hand the five persons present.

"'And,' added the Prince, 'we are all committed to the maintenance
of the French republic; we three priests have literally unfrocked
ourselves; the general, here, voted for the death of the king; and
you,' he said, turning to Malin, 'have got possession of the property of
emigres
.'

"'Yes, we have all the same interests,' said Sieyes, dictatorially, 'and
our interests are one with those of the nation.'

"'A rare thing,' said the Prince, smiling.

"'We must act,' interrupted Fouche. 'In all probability the battle is
now going on; the Austrians outnumber us; Genoa has surrendered; Massena
has committed the great mistake of embarking for Antibes; it is very
doubtful if he can rejoin Bonaparte, who will then be reduced to his own
resources.'

"'Who gave you that news?' asked Carnot.

"'It is sure,' replied Fouche. 'You will have the courier when the
Bourse opens.'

"Those men didn't mince their words," said de Marsay, smiling, and
stopping short for a moment.

"'Remember,' continued Fouche, 'it is not when the news of a disaster
comes that we can organize clubs, rouse the patriotism of the people,
and change the constitution. Our 18th Brumaire ought to be prepared
beforehand.'

"'Let us leave the care of that to the minister of police,' said the
Prince, bowing to Fouche, 'and beware ourselves of Lucien.' (Lucien
Bonaparte was then minister of the interior.)

"'I'll arrest him,' said Fouche.

"'Messieurs!' cried Sieyes, 'our Directory ought not to be subject to
anarchical changes. We must organize a government of the few, a Senate
for life, and an elective chamber the control of which shall be in our
hands; for we ought to profit by the blunders of the past.'

"'With such a system, there would be peace for me,' remarked the
ex-bishop.

"'Find me a sure man to negotiate with Moreau; for the Army of the
Rhine will be our sole resource,' cried Carnot, who had been plunged in
meditation.

"Ah!" said de Marsay, pausing, "those men were right. They were grand
in this crisis. I should have done as they did"; then he resumed his
narrative.

"'Messieurs!' cried Sieyes, in a grave and solemn tone.

"That word 'Messieurs!' was perfectly understood by all present; all
eyes expressed the same faith, the same promise, that of absolute
silence, and unswerving loyalty to each other in case the First Consul
returned triumphant.

"'We all know what we have to do,' added Fouche.

"Sieyes softly unbolted the door; his priestly ear had warned him.
Lucien entered the room.

"'Good news!' he said. 'A courier has just brought Madame Bonaparte a
line from the First Consul. The campaign has opened with a victory at
Montebello.'

"The three ministers exchanged looks.

"'Was it a general engagement?' asked Carnot.

"'No, a fight, in which Lannes has covered himself with glory. The
affair was bloody. Attacked with ten thousand men by eighteen thousand,
he was only saved by a division sent to his support. Ott is in full
retreat. The Austrian line is broken.'

"'When did the fight take place?' asked Carnot.

"'On the 8th,' replied Lucien.

"'And this is the 13th,' said the sagacious minister. 'Well, if that is
so, the destinies of France are in the scale at the very moment we are
speaking.'"
[2]

"'Four days of fatal uncertainty!' said Lucien.

"'Fatal?' said the minister of foreign affairs, coldly and
interrogatively.

"'Four days,' echoed Fouche.

"An eye-witness told me," said de Marsay, continuing the narrative in
his own person, "that the consuls, Cambaceres and Lebrun, knew nothing
of this momentous news until after the six personages returned to the
salon. It was then four in the morning. Fouche left first. That man
of dark and mysterious genius, extraordinary, profound, and little
understood, but who undoubtedly had the gifts of a Philip the Second, a
Tiberius and a Borgia, went at once to work with an infernal and secret
activity. His conduct at the time of the affair at Walcheren was that of
a consummate soldier, a great politician, a far-seeing administrator. He
was the only real minister that Napoleon ever had. And you all know how
he then alarmed him.

"Fouche, Massena and the Prince," continued de Marsay, reflectively,
"are the three greatest men, the wisest heads in diplomacy, war, and
government, that I have ever known. If Napoleon had frankly allied them
with his work there would no longer be a Europe, only a vast French
Empire. Fouche did not finally detach himself from Napoleon until he saw
Sieyes and the Prince de Talleyrand shoved aside.

"He now went to work, and in three days (all the while hiding the hand
that stirred the ashes of the Montagne) he had organized that general
agitation which then arose all over France and revived the republicanism
of 1793. As it is necessary that I should explain this obscure corner of
our history, I must tell you that this agitation, starting from Fouche's
own hand (which held the wires of the former Montagne), produced
republican plots against the life of the First Consul, which was in
peril from this cause long after the victory of Marengo. It was Fouche's
sense of the evil he had thus brought about which led him to warn
Napoleon, who held a contrary opinion, that republicans were more
concerned than royalists in the various conspiracies.