Charles, for whom she had secured an appointment as aide to General Leclerc, one of Napoleon’s commanders in Italy. Traveling in the same party was at least one “financier”: Josephine was betraying not only Napoleon, but also his army. Making use of her closeness to Barras, and her position as the wife of the commander of the Army of Italy, she was ensuring that army supply contracts were awarded to certain dubious businessmen she knew, who rewarded her accordingly.
Josephine finally arrived at Milan on July 13, whereupon to her surprise she was granted a mere forty-eight hours of Napoleon’s attention before he rushed back to the front. His campaign was at a vital juncture, and this was all he could spare her. This pattern was repeated, and each time a relieved Josephine would return to the arms of Hippolyte, whilst Napoleon would send her delirious letters from the front, promising “to strip from your body the last film of chiffon, your slippers, everything, and then as in the dream I told you about . . .” When he was able to return for longer periods, Josephine was proudly displayed at balls in Milan, at the opera, at gala dinners. Napoleon was immensely proud of his new wife, seemingly blind to her faults (which had quickly become apparent to members of his staff).
Josephine, for her part, became increasingly disappointed with Napoleon, and what she considered to be his crude habits. So much attention has been paid to him, and to his exceptional personality, that we now know even the most intimate details of his life. How he was in the habit of masturbating before a battle, in order to calm his nerves. How he gobbled his food, and could be equally impatient with other physical matters, declaring that neither meals nor lovemaking should last more than a quarter of an hour—practices which hardly endeared him to the languid, sensual Josphine.
It would seem to be no coincidence that the young Napoleon conducted his first brilliant campaign in a blaze of erotic awakening. At times his energy and willpower seemed almost a delirium. Nothing appeared impossible to him. Yet his character, like his military tactics, remained unfathomable to all around him: his enemies, his aides, his generals, Josephine, the Directory, none were able to predict his next move. However, there was no mistaking the evolving power of the intelligence behind these moves, and there was no doubting that the Italian campaign marked a major stage in this evolution. As Napoleon himself recalled, it was in Italy that he first became aware of the full extent of what he could achieve. It was here for the first time that “I saw the world recede beneath me, as if I were being borne up into the sky.” 10 What had before been barely articulated ambition, inspired by heroes such as Alexander, Hannibal and Caesar, was now beginning to take on a more distinct and particular form.
On April 9, 1797, Napoleon invited to dinner Raymond Verninac, the French ambassador to the Ottoman Porte at Constantinople, who was on his way back to Paris. During his tour of duty, Verninac had dispatched a French commissioner to Egypt, who had returned with a firsthand report on the sad state of the country under Mameluke rule, the inroads the British were making, and the harassment of French merchants. Verninac was convinced that the Ottoman Empire was on the point of falling apart, and suggested to Napoleon that the French should consider invading Egypt, possibly as a prelude to taking over the whole of the Ottoman Empire. If France did not seize this opportunity, it would be taken by another power better placed geographically to do so—such as Austria. Europe would then be faced with a revitalized Austrian Empire stretching from the Elbe to the Nile.
This meeting had an electrifying effect upon Napoleon, stirring his dreams of following in the footsteps of Alexander the Great. He found himself remembering Volney’s Voyage en Égypte , and how he had conversed with