Part 8 (1/2)
The governor of Corsica was one of these men; and by flattery and promises he won over to his side Papa Charles Bonaparte, and had him sent to Paris (or rather to Versailles, where the a.s.sembly met, not far from Paris) as a delegate from the n.o.bility of Corsica. This sounded very fine; but the truth is, ”Papa Charles” was simply nothing more than ”the governor's man,” to do as he told him, and to work in his interests.
One result of this, however, was that it made things a little easier for the Bonapartes; and it gave them the opportunity of giving to the two older boys, Joseph and Napoleon, an education in France at the expense of the state.
So when Charles Bonaparte was ready to sail to his duties in France, it was arranged that he should take with him Joseph, Napoleon, and Uncle Joey Fesch. Joseph was now eleven years old; Napoleon was nine, and Uncle Joey was fifteen.
Joseph and Uncle Joey were to be educated as priests; Napoleon was to go to the military school at Brienne. But, at first, both the brothers were sent to a sort of preparatory school at Autun.
Napoleon was delighted. He was to go out into the world. He was to be a man; and yet, when the time came, he hated to leave his home. He was fond of his family; indeed, his life was largely given up to remembering and helping his mother and brothers and sisters. He regretted leaving his dear grotto; he was sorry to say good-by to Panoria--his favorite ”La Giacommetta.” But his future had been decided upon by his father and mother, and he promised to do great things for them when he was old enough to be a captain in the army--even if it were the army of France.
For, you see, he was still so earnest a Corsican patriot, that he wished rather to free Corsica than to defend France.
”Who knows?” he boasted one day to Panoria; ”perhaps I will become a colonel, and come back here and be a greater man than Paoli. Perhaps I may free Corsica. What would you think of that, Panoria?”
”I should think it funny for a boy who went to school in France to come away and fight France,” said practical Panoria.
But Napoleon would not see it in this way. He dreamed of glory, and believed he would yet be able to strike a blow for the freedom of Corsica. At last the day of departure arrived. There was a lingering leave-taking and a sorrowful one. For the first time, the Bonaparte boys were leaving their mother and their home.
”Be good boys,” she said to them; ”learn all you can, and try to be a credit to your family. Upon you we look for help in the future. Be thrifty, be saving, do not get sick, and remember that, upon your work now, will depend your success in life.”
”Good-bye!” cried Nurse Saveria. ”When you come back I will have for you the biggest basket of fruit we can pick in the garden of your uncle the canon.”
”That you shall, boy,” said Uncle Lucien, slipping his last piece of pocket-money into Napoleon's hand. ”And take you this, for luck. You will do your best, I know you will, and you'll come back to us a great man. Don't forget your Uncle Lucien, you boy, when you are famous, will you?”
Napoleon smiled through his tears, and made a laughing promise in reply to his uncle's laughing demand. But, for all the fun of the remark, there was yet a strong groundwork of belief beneath this a.s.sertion of the Canon Lucien Bonaparte; the old man was a shrewd observer. His friends.h.i.+p for the little Napoleon was strong. And in spite of all the boy's faults,--his temper, his ambition, his sullenness, his carelessness, and his selfishness,--Uncle Lucien still recognized in this nine-year-old nephew an ability that would carry him forward as he grew older.
”Napoleon has his faults,” he said, in talking over family matters with Mamma Let.i.tia and Papa Charles the night before the departure for France; ”the boy is not perfect--what child is? But those very faults will grow into action as he becomes acquainted with the world. I expect great things of the boy; and mark my words, Let.i.tia and Charles, it is of no use for you to think on Napoleon's fortune or his future. He will make them for himself, and you will look to him for a.s.sistance, rather than he to you. Joseph is the eldest son; but, of this I am sure, Napoleon will be the head of this family. Remember what I say; for, though I may not live to see it, some of you will--and will profit by it.”
They were all on the dock as the vessel sailed away, bearing Papa Charles, Uncle Joey Fesch, and the two Bonaparte boys, from Ajaccio to Florence.
Mamma Let.i.tia was there, tearful, but smiling, with Eliza, and Pauline, and Baby Lucien; so were Uncle Lucien the canon, and Aunt Manuccia, who had been their mother's housekeeper, with Nurse Saveria, and Nurse Ilaria, whom Napoleon called foster-mother, and even little Panoria, to whom Napoleon cried ”Good-by, Giacommeta mia! I'll come back some day.”
Then the vessel moved out into the harbor, and sailed away for Italy, while the tearful group on the dock and the tearful group on the deck threw kisses to one another until they could no longer make out faces or forms.
The home tie was broken; and Napoleon Bonaparte, a boy of nine and a half years, was launched upon life--a life the world was never to forget.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
AT THE PREPARATORY SCHOOL.
The Bonaparte boys and their father stopped a while in Florence, so that Charles Bonaparte could procure the proper papers to prove that he was of what is called n.o.ble birth. For it seems that only the children of n.o.bles could enter the French military school at Brienne.
He procured these at last, and also a letter of introduction to the French queen, Marie Antoinette whose sad story you all know so well.
Then they set out for Autun, and reached that quaint old town on the last day of the year 1778. On New Year's Day, 1779, Napoleon was entered as a pupil in the preparatory school at Autun.
Autun has been a school town tor hundreds of years. The old Druids had a school there, and so did the Romans. It is one of the oldest of French towns; and you will find it on your map of France, about one hundred and fifty miles south-east of Paris. It is a picturesque old town, placed on a sloping hillside, that runs down to the Arroux River. There is a cathedral in the town over nine hundred years old; and there, too, Napoleon found a college and a seminary, a museum and a library, with plenty of ruins, walls, and gateways, and such things, that told of its great age and old-time grandeur.
It was a fine place in which to go to school, and the Bonaparte boys must have found it quite a change from their Corsican home. The bishop of Autun, who had charge of the cathedral and the schools, was the nephew of a friend of Charles Bonaparte, and he promised to look after the boys.