The winter season of 1800 in Paris was very brilliant. On the 26 January the new Minister of the Interior, Lucien Bonaparte, gave a grand ball in honor of his sister Caroline and her husband, at the magnificent Hôtel Brissac, Rue de Grenelle, which he occupied at the time. Dinners and balls, which recalled the fêtes of the fermiers-généraux under the monarchy, were also given by the great bankers of the day. All classes of society took part in the social whirl, and the dance was never so popular. For a period of ten years the Parisians had been deprived of the popular masked balls of the Opéra, and their reopening was one of the features of the Carnival.

But while Paris danced and played the First Consul was occupied with very serious problems. The internal affairs of France were in very bad shape: the treasury was empty; civil war still raged in the Vendée; the soldiers were ill-fed and ill-clad; and the armies were demoralized from frequent defeats. The foreign situation was equally discouraging. The English Government had declined his pacific overtures, and with Austria it was clear that there was no chance of peace except through victory.

During the winter the energy and activity of Bonaparte were everywhere in evidence, and the sudden resurrection of France at this time is one of the most remarkable events in modern history. “Instantly, as if by enchantment,” writes the English historian, Alison, “everything was changed; order reappeared out of chaos, talent emerged from obscurity, vigor arose out of the elements of weakness. The arsenals were filled, the veterans crowded to their eagles, the conscripts joyfully repaired to the frontier. La Vendée was pacified, the exchequer began to overflow. In little more than six months after Napoleon’s accession, the Austrians were forced to seek refuge under the cannon of Ulm, Italy was regained, unanimity and enthusiasm prevailed among the people, and the revived energy of the nation was launched into a career of conquest.”

On the 6 May, Bonaparte left Paris for Italy; two weeks later he crossed the Grand-Saint-Bernard; on the second day of June he entered Milan; on the fourteenth he decisively defeated the Austrians at Marengo, and at one stroke regained nearly all of the territory in northern Italy which had been lost during his absence in Egypt.

On his return to France, Napoleon received a perfect ovation at every stage of his journey. When he entered Paris the night of the second of July, after an absence of less than two months, the enthusiasm was indescribable. An innumerable crowd gathered in the Tuileries Gardens to cheer him, and he expressed his pleasure to Bourrienne by saying: “The noise of these acclamations is as sweet to me as the sound of the voice of Joséphine!” Twenty years later, on the rock of Saint Helena, he spoke of this as one of the happiest days of his life.

During Napoleon’s absence occurred the so-called “Conspiracy of Marengo,” the details of which are little known. While he was still engaged in putting down the civil war at home, and repelling the foreign invaders from the frontiers of France, his brothers Joseph and Lucien had already begun the struggle for the supreme power in the event of his death. The question of heredity, which was to be the source of his greatest troubles, and one of the causes of his final downfall, had already been raised, before his supreme power was even definitely established.

As early as the month of February, Lucien was exchanging views with Bernadotte, who, during the Consulate and the Empire, never lived a day without plotting to overthrow Napoleon. A month before the departure of the First Consul for Italy, in his cabinet at the Tuileries, Fouché, regarding Lucien with his terrible eyes, exclaimed: “I will have the Minister of the Interior himself arrested, if I learn that he is conspiring!” A contemporary who endeavors to find excuses for Lucien, and to defend him from the charge of conspiracy, is forced to admit that: “The political immorality, the civil dishonesty of his administration; the disgraceful peculations, the insatiable cupidity of the agents by whom he was surrounded, did much to injure his brother’s government.”

Joseph, for his part, acted much more discreetly, but he let his brother know that he wished to be designated as his successor. Nothing in the new Constitution gave this power to the First Consul, who had been elected for ten years, and was reëligible. With his childish vanity, Joseph could see no reason why he should not be as acceptable to the French nation as the conqueror of Italy and Egypt, and thought that it only needed a word from Napoleon to amend in his favor a Constitution adopted by the practically unanimous vote of three million citizens!

In a conversation with the First Consul, the day before his departure for Italy, Joseph seems to have raised for the first time the question of the Consular heredity, and he showed his hand more clearly in a letter written on the 24 May. In all Corsicans there is a strong sentiment of the clan, from which Napoleon himself was not exempt. Joseph felt that, as the eldest, he was the chief of the clan, the head of the family; therefore, it was not a favor which he solicited: it was a right which he claimed.

But he did not rely entirely upon the support of Napoleon to gain his point. Upon the suggestion of his friend Miot, a council was held at Auteuil, at which were present nearly all the leading members of the former Assemblies. The possibility of the death of Bonaparte, and the question of his successor, were discussed; but the name of Joseph was not even mentioned. After wavering between La Fayette and Carnot, they decided in favor of the “organizer of victory,” whom Napoleon had recalled from exile and made Minister of War.

At this same time an alliance was formed between Talleyrand and Fouché, which was to bear its full fruit fourteen years later, when these two arch-conspirators and under-handed enemies of Napoleon were to precipitate his fall and bring back the Bourbons. At this time, however, their plans only contemplated the formation of a triumvirate, consisting of themselves and one accommodating colleague.

Lucien was not involved in any of these later schemes. On the 14 May, he lost his wife; and for at least ten days he retired to his country estate, abandoning entirely the direction of his department.

In the meantime, Joseph was so anxious to obtain an immediate response from his brother that he could not remain quietly at Paris, and set out for Italy. When he arrived at Milan, the victory of Marengo had settled the whole question. Napoleon was now the absolute master of France, and the decision of the matter was entirely in his own hands. He was fully informed of the plots and counter-plots, but chose to ignore them all. The only outcome was that Carnot lost his portfolio.

Leaving for Italy in the costume of the Institute, on his return Napoleon presides over the Council of State in the uniform of general. It is only after Marengo that he feels his place secure as head of the State. It was not until the 7 September that he finally and definitely replied to the proposals of the Pretender:

“I have received, sir, your letter; I thank you for the polite things you say to me. You can not hope to return to France; it would be necessary for you to march over five hundred thousand dead bodies. Sacrifice your interests to the repose and happiness of France. History will give you credit for your action.”

The “Conspiracy of Marengo” is interesting because it marks the first grouping of factions which on several occasions were again to come to the front during the Empire; and because it reveals the principal weakness of Napoleon’s personal régime. These plots convinced him of the necessity of providing for the Consular succession. The new Constitution, perhaps intentionally, had left the matter in very vague shape. For the first time Napoleon now fully realized the necessity of facing this question of heredity, so important to himself, to his brothers, and, above all, to Joséphine.

Napoleon, at the age of thirty-one, could not abandon the hope of an heir—hence the constant menace of divorce for Joséphine, who, after four years of marriage, could hardly expect to bear another child. Her hope also of a restoration of the Bourbons had now been extinguished by the action of her husband. In this dilemma she naturally sought the support of such former Jacobins as Fouché and Réal, who were opposed to the extension of the powers of the First Consul, and above all to the designation of his successor.

As for Napoleon’s brothers, they felt that there could be no question of their rights to the succession. One would think, as Napoleon once expressed it, that he, as the younger brother, had usurped the place and the rights of Joseph, as successor to their father the late king! They were also so convinced that it was impossible for Napoleon himself to have any children, that they could not conceive of his repudiating Joséphine, and marrying a younger woman in the hope of having an heir.

Lucien apparently recognized the rights of Joseph, as the elder, and was willing to await his turn as heir presumptive, especially as his brother had no children. The two brothers therefore sought, each in his own way, to secure the adoption of the principle of designation, after which each one hoped to be chosen.

With the death of his charming wife, Catherine Boyer, who, notwithstanding her common origin, had finished by gaining the love of all the family, as well as the general esteem of society, Lucien had more and more neglected his official duties, and plunged into all kinds of dissipation. Napoleon was obliged to call him to account, and there were several unpleasant scenes between the brothers.

Matters were finally brought to a head by the publication of the famous “Parallel.” One morning, towards the end of October, Fouché entered the cabinet of the First Consul and handed him a little pamphlet entitled Parallèle entre César, Cromwell et Bonaparte. Two paragraphs were specially marked, which suggested the idea of heredity and pushed the candidacy of the brothers of the Consul.

This brochure, written by Lucien, although he denied it, and widely distributed under the frank of the Minister of the Interior, had caused a great sensation in all the departments. Lucien is summoned from his country place, Plessis, and there is a violent scene between him and Fouché in the presence of the First Consul. Napoleon remains a passive spectator of the discussion. Joséphine enters the room and takes part. She seats herself upon Napoleon’s knees, and runs her fingers gently through his hair and over his face. “I beg you, Bonaparte,” she says, “do not make yourself a king. It is this wretch Lucien who urges you to it; do not listen to him.”

With much regret, Napoleon asked for Lucien’s resignation, and to cover his disgrace sent him as ambassador to Madrid, with an enormous salary.

This exile in disguise of Lucien is not all that Joséphine gains from the publication of the Parallel and the opportune intervention of Fouché. Napoleon is now fully convinced of the necessity of adopting the principle of the right of designation, but the choice of the individual presents many difficulties. He puts aside Joseph, a most worthy man, but with no application, and no capacity for public affairs. Lucien is now out of the question. For a moment he thinks of Eugène de Beauharnais, who would have been the best choice of all, but decides that he is too young and inexperienced. The next day he makes his decision. “It is not necessary,” he says, “to cudgel our brains to find a successor. I have found one: it is Louis. He has all of the good qualities, and none of the faults of his brothers.”

Joséphine was delighted when Napoleon informed her of his choice, in which, unconsciously, he may have been influenced by his wife. “Louis has an excellent heart, a very superior mind,” she said. “He loves Bonaparte as a lover loves his mistress.”

From that moment her plan was settled: Louis must marry Hortense!