Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Bookassurance of her love, what in the wide world remains for him. What will he do? Yesterday we had a very sanguinary conflict; the enemy has lost heavily, and been completely beaten. We have taken from him the suburbs of Mantua. Adieu, charming Josephine; one of these nights the door will be burst open with a bang, as if by a jealous husband, and in a moment I shall be in your arms. A thousand affectionate kisses. BONAPARTE. * * * * * _October 2nd._--(Moreau defeats Latour at Biberach, but then continues his retreat.) _October 8th._--Spain declares war against England. _October 10th.--Peace with Naples signed._ No. 13. TO JOSEPHINE, AT MILAN. _Modena, October 17, 1796_, 9 P.M. The day before yesterday I was out the whole day. Yesterday I kept my bed. Fever and a racking headache both prevented me writing to my beloved; but I got your letters. I have pressed them to my heart and lips, and the grief of a hundred miles of separation has disappeared. At the present moment I can see you by my side, not capricious and out of humour, but gentle, affectionate, with that mellifluent kindness of which my Josephine is the sole proprietor. It was a dream, judge if it has cured my fever. Your letters are as cold as if you were fifty; we might have been married fifteen years. One finds in them the friendship and feelings of that winter of life. Fie! Josephine. It is very naughty, very unkind, very undutiful of you. What more can you do to make me indeed an object for compassion? Love me no longer? Eh, that is already accomplished! Hate me? Well, I prefer that! Everything grows stale except ill-will; but indifference, with its marble pulse, its rigid stare, its monotonous demeanour!... A thousand thousand very heartfelt kisses. I am rather better. I start to-morrow. The English evacuate the Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. Good news for France, and for the army. BONAPARTE. * * * * * _October 25th._--(Moreau recrosses the Rhine.) _November 1st.--Advance of Marshal Alvinzi. Vaubois defeated by Davidovich on November 5th, after two days' fight._ _November 6th.--Napoleon successful, but Vaubois' defeat compels the French army to return to Verona._ No. 14. TO JOSEPHINE, AT MILAN. _Verona, November 9, 1796._ _My Dear_,--I have been at Verona since the day before yesterday. Although tired, I am very well, very busy; and I love you passionately at all times. I am just off on horseback. I embrace you a thousand times. BONAPARTE. * * * * * _November 12th.--Combat of Caldiero: Napoleon fails to turn the Austrian position, owing to heavy rains. His position desperate._ _November 15th.--First battle of Arcola. French gain partial victory._ _November 16th and 17th.--Second battle of Arcola. French completely victorious "Lodi was nothing to Arcola" (Bourrienne)._ _November 17th._--Death of Czarina Catherine II. of Russia. _November 18th.--Napoleon victoriously re-enters Verona by the Venice gate, having left it, apparently in full retreat, on the night of the 14th by the Milan gate._ No. 15. From BOURRIENNE'S "LIFE OF NAPOLEON," vol. i. chap. 4. _Verona, November 19th, Noon._ _My Adored Josephine_,--Once more I breathe freely. Death is no longer before me, and glory and honour are once more re-established. The enemy is beaten at Arcola. To-morrow we will repair Vaubois' blunder of abandoning Rivoli. In a week Mantua will be ours, and then your husband will clasp you in his arms, and give you a thousand proofs of his ardent affection. I shall proceed to Milan as soon as I can; I am rather tired. I have received letters from Eugène and Hortense--charming young people. I will send them to you as soon as I find my belongings, which are at present somewhat dispersed. We have made five thousand prisoners, and killed at least six thousand of the enemy. Good-bye, my adored Josephine. Think of me often. If you cease to love your Achilles, if for him your heart grows cold, you will be very cruel, very unjust. But I am sure you will always remain my faithful mistress, as I shall ever remain your fond lover. Death alone can break the chain which sympathy, love, and sentiment have forged. Let me have news of your health. A thousand and a thousand kisses. No. 16. TO JOSEPHINE, AT MILAN. _Verona, November 23, 1796._ I don't love you an atom; on the contrary, I detest you. You are a good for nothing, very ungraceful, very tactless, very tatterdemalion. You never write to me; you don't care for your husband; you know the pleasure your letters give him, and you write him barely half-a-dozen lines, thrown off anyhow. How, then, do you spend the livelong day, madam? What business of such importance robs you of the time to write to your very kind lover? What inclination stifles and alienates love, the affectionate and unvarying love which you promised me? Who may this paragon be, this new lover who engrosses all your time, is master of your days, and prevents you from concerning yourself about your husband? Josephine, be vigilant; one fine night the doors will be broken in, and I shall be before you. Truly, my dear, I am uneasy at getting no news from you. Write me four pages immediately, and some of those charming remarks which fill my heart with the pleasures of imagination. I hope that before long I shall clasp you in my arms, and cover you with a million kisses as burning as if under the equator. BONAPARTE. No. 17. _Verona, November 24, 1796._ I hope soon, darling, to be in your arms. I love you to distraction. I am writing to Paris by this courier. All goes well. Wurmser was beaten yesterday under Mantua. Your husband only needs Josephine's love to be happy. BONAPARTE. No. 18. TO JOSEPHINE, AT GENOA. _Milan_, _November 27, 1796_, 3 P.M. I get to Milan; I fling myself into your room; I have left all in order to see you, to clasp you in my arms.... You were not there. You gad about the towns amid junketings; you run farther from me when I am at hand; you care no longer for your dear Napoleon. A passing fancy made you love him; fickleness renders him indifferent to you. Used to perils, I know the remedy for weariness and the ills of life. The ill-luck that I now suffer is past all calculations; I did right not to anticipate it. I shall be here till the evening of the 29th. Don't alter your plans; have your fling of pleasure; happiness was invented for you. The whole world is only too happy if it can please you, and only your husband is very, very unhappy. BONAPARTE. No. 19. TO JOSEPHINE, AT GENOA. _Milan_, _November 28, 1796_, 8 P.M. I have received the courier whom Berthier had hurried on to Genoa. You have not had time to write me, I feel it intuitively. Surrounded with pleasures and pastimes, you would be wrong to make the least sacrifice for me. Berthier has been good enough to show me the letter which you wrote him. My intention is that you should not make the least change in your plans, nor with respect to the pleasure |