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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4226-0.txt b/4226-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ea161f --- /dev/null +++ b/4226-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17791 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Empress Josephine, by Louise Muhlbach + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Empress Josephine + +Author: Louise Muhlbach + +Translator: W. Binet + + +Release Date: July, 2003 [Etext# 4226] +This file was first posted on December 8, 2001 +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE + +AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE DAYS OF NAPOLEON + +By Louise Muhlbach + +Author Of: Daughter Of An Empress, Marie Antoinette, Joseph II and His +Court, Frederick The Great and His Family, Berlin And Sans-Souci, Etc. + + +Translated from the German by Rev. W. Binet, A M. + + + +CONTENTS. + +BOOK I. + +THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS. + + I. Introduction + II. The Young Maid + III. The Betrothal + IV. The Young Bonaparte + V. The Unhappy Marriage + VI. Trianon and Marie Antoinette + VII. Lieutenant Napoleon Bonaparte + VIII. A Page from History + IX. Josephine’s Return + X. The Days of the Revolution + XI. The 10th of August and the Letter of Napoleon Bonaparte + XII. The Execution of the Queen + XIII. The Arrest + XIV. In Prison + XV. Deliverance + +BOOK II. + +THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. + + XVI. Bonaparte in Corsica + XVII. Napoleon Bonaparte before Toulon + XVIII. Bonaparte’s Imprisonment + XIX. The 13th Vendemiaire + XX. The Widow Josephine Beauharnais + XXI. The New Paris + XXII. The First Interview + XXIII. Marriage + XXIV. Bonaparte’s Love-Letters + XXV. Josephine in Italy + XXVI. Bonaparte and Josephine in Milan + XXVII. The Court of Montebello + XXVIII. The Peace of Campo Formio + XXIX. Days of Triumph + +BOOK III. + +THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED. + + XXX. Plombieres and Malmaison + XXXI. The First Faithlessness + XXXII. The 18th Brumaire + XXXIII. The Tuileries + XXXIV. The Infernal Machine + XXXV. The Cashmeres and the Letter + XXXVI. Malmaison + XXXVII. Flowers and Music + XXXVIII. Prelude to the Empire + XXXIX. The Pope in Paris + XL. The Coronation + XLI. Days of Happiness + XLII. Divorce + XLIII. The Divorced + XLIV. Death + + + + +BOOK I. THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS. + + +CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. + + +“I win the battles, Josephine wins me the hearts.” These words of +Napoleon are the most beautiful epitaph of the Empress Josephine, the +much-loved, the much-regretted, and the much-slandered one. Even while +Napoleon won battles, while with lofty pride he placed his foot on the +neck of the conquered, took away from princes their crowns, and from +nations their liberty--while Europe trembling bowed before him, and +despite her admiration cursed him--while hatred heaved up the hearts of +all nations against him--even then none could refuse admiration to the +tender, lovely woman who, with the gracious smile of goodness, walked +at his side; none could refuse love to the wife of the conqueror, whose +countenance of brass received light and lustre from the beautiful eyes +of Josephine, as Memnon’s statue from the rays of the sun. + +She was not beautiful according to those high and exalted rules of +beauty which we admire in the statues of the gods of old, but her whole +being was surrounded with such a charm, goodness, and grace, that the +rules of beauty were forgotten. Josephine’s beauty was believed in, +and the heart was ravished by the spell of such a gracious, womanly +apparition. Goethe’s words, which the Princess Eleonore utters in +reference to Antonio, were not applicable to Josephine: + +“All the gods have with one consent brought gifts to his cradle, but, +alas! the Graces have remained absent, and where the gifts of these +lovely ones fail, though much was given and much received, yet on such a +bosom is no resting-place.” + +No, the Graces were not absent from the cradle of Josephine; they, more +than all the other gods, had brought their gifts to Josephine. They had +encircled her with the girdle of gracefulness, they had imparted to her +look, to her smile, to her figure, attraction and charm, and given +her that beauty which is greater and more enduring than that of youth, +namely loveliness, that only real beauty. Josephine possessed the beauty +of grace, and this quality remained when youth, happiness, and grandeur, +had deserted her. This beauty of grace struck the Emperor Alexander as +he came to Malmaison to salute the dethroned empress. He had entered +Paris in triumph, and laid his foot on the neck of him whom he once had +called his friend, yet before the divorced wife of the dethroned emperor +the czar, full of admiration and respect, bowed his head and made her +homage as to a queen; for, though she was dethroned, on her head shone +the crown in imperishable beauty and glory, the crown of loveliness, of +faithfulness, and of womanhood. + +She was not witty in the special sense of a so-called “witty woman.” + She composed no verses, she wrote no philosophical dissertations, she +painted not, she was no politician, she was no practising artist, but +she possessed the deep and fine intuition of all that which is beautiful +and noble: she was the protectress of the arts and sciences. She knew +that disciples were not wanting to the arts, but that often a Maecenas +is needed. She left it to her cousin, the Countess Fanny Beauharnais, to +be called an artist; hers was a loftier destiny, and she fulfilled that +destiny through her whole life--she was a Maecenas, the protectress of +the arts and sciences. + +As Hamlet says of his father, “He was a man, take him for all in all, I +shall not look upon his like again;” thus Josephine’s fame consists not +that she was a princess, an empress anointed by the hands of the pope +himself, but that she was a noble and true wife, loving yet more than +she was loved, entirely given up in unswerving loyalty to him who +rejected her; languishing for very sorrow on account of his misfortune, +and dying for very grief as vanished away the star of his happiness. +Thousands in her place, rejected, forgotten, cast away, as she +was--thousands would have rejoiced in the righteousness of the fate +which struck and threw in the dust the man who, for earthly grandeur, +had abandoned the beloved one and disowned her love. Josephine wept over +him, lamented over his calamities, and had but a wish to be allowed to +share them with him. Josephine died broken-hearted--the misfortunes of +her beloved, who no more loved her, the misfortunes of Napoleon, broke +her heart. + +She was a woman, “take her for all in all”--a noble, a beautiful woman, +a loving woman, and such as belongs to no peculiar class, to no peculiar +nation, to no peculiar special history; she belongs to the world, to +humanity, to universal history. In the presence of such an apparition +all national hatred is silent, all differences of political opinion are +silent. Like a great, powerful drama drawn from the universal history of +man and represented before our eyes, so her life passes before us; and +surprised, wondering, we gaze on, indifferent whether the heroine of +such a tragedy be Creole, French, or to what nation she may owe her +birth. She belongs to the world, to history, and if we Germans have no +love for the Emperor Napoleon, the tyrant of the world, the Caesar of +brass who bowed the people down into the dust, and trod under foot +their rights and liberties--if we Germans have no love for the conqueror +Napoleon, because he won so many battles from us, yet this does not +debar us from loving Josephine, who during her lifetime won hearts to +Napoleon, and whose beautiful death for love’s sake filled with tears +the eyes of those whose lips knew but words of hatred and cursing +against the emperor. + +To write the life of Josephine does not mean to write the life of a +Frenchwoman, the life of the wife of the man who brought over Germany +so much adversity, shame, and suffering, but it means to write a woman’s +life which, as a fated tragedy or like a mighty picture, rises before +our vision. It is to unfold a portion of the world’s history before our +eyes--and the world’s history is there for our common instruction and +progress, for our enlightenment and encouragement. + +I am not afraid, therefore, of being accused of lacking patriotism, +because I have undertaken to write the life of a woman who is not a +German, who was the wife of Germany’s greatest enemy and oppressor. It +is, indeed, a portion of the universal drama which is unfolded in the +life of this woman, and amid so much blood, so much dishonor, so many +tears, so much humiliation, so much pride, arrogance, and treachery, of +this renowned period of the world’s history, shines forth the figure +of Josephine as the bright star of womanhood, of love, of +faithfulness--stars need no birthright, no nationality, they belong to +all lands and nations. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE YOUNG MAID. + + +On the 23d of July, 1763, to the Chevalier Tascher de la Pagerie, +ex-lieutenant of the royal troops, a resident of the insignificant +spot of the Trois Islets, on the island of Martinique, was borne by his +young, rich, and beautiful wife, a first child. + +The loving parents, the relatives and friends had longed for this child, +but now that it was come, they bade it welcome without joy, and even +over the brow of the young father hung the shadow of a cloud as he +received the intelligence of the birth of his child. For it was a girl, +and not the wished-for boy who was to be the inheritor of the valuable +family-plantation, and the inheritor also of the ancient and respectable +name of Tascher de la Pagerie. + +It was, however, useless to murmur against fate. What was irrevocable +had to be accepted, and welcome made to the daughter, who, instead of +the expected heir, would now lay claim to the rights of primogeniture. +As an inheritance reserved for him who had not come, the daughter +received the name which had been destined to the son. For two hundred +years the name of Joseph had been given to the eldest son of the family +of Tascher de la Pagerie, but now that there was none to whom the +Chevalier, Ex-lieutenant Joseph de la Pagerie could leave his name as a +legacy, the family had to be satisfied to give the name to his daughter, +and consequently she received at baptism the name of Joseph Marie Rosa. + +There was, however, one being who gladly and willingly forgave the fault +of her birth, and who consecrated to the daughter the same love she +would have offered to the son. This being was the mother of the little +Joseph Marie Rosa. + +“Contrary to all our wishes,” writes she to her husband’s sister, the +beautiful Madame Renaudin, in Paris--“contrary to all our wishes, God +has given me a daughter. My joy is not therefore diminished, for I look +upon my child as a new bond which binds me still closer to your brother, +my dear husband, and to you. Why should I have such a poor and meagre +opinion of the female sex, that a daughter should not be welcomed by +me? I am acquainted with many persons of our sex who concentrate in +themselves as many good qualities as one would only with difficulty find +in the other sex. Maternal love already blinds me and fosters in me the +hope that my daughter may be like them, and if even I cannot enjoy +this satisfaction, yet I am thankful to my child that by means of her +existence I am gathering so much happiness.” + +Indeed, extraordinary joy, since the birth of the child, reigned in the +house of M. Tascher de la Pagerie; joy reigned all over Martinique, +for the long war between France and England was ended, and a few months +before the birth of little Joseph Marie Rosa, the peace which secured +to France the possession of her maritime colonies had been signed. +Martinique, so often attacked, bombarded, besieged by English +ships--Martinique was again the unconditional property of France, and +on the birthday of the little Marie Joseph Rosa the French fleet entered +into the harbor of Port Royal, landed a French garrison for the island, +and brought a new governor in the person of the Marquis de Fenelon, the +nephew of the famous Bishop de Fenelon. + +Joyously and quietly passed away the first years of the life of the +little Joseph, or little Josephine, as her kind parents called her. Only +once, in the third year of her life, was Josephine’s infancy troubled +by a fright. A terrible hurricane, such as is known to exist only in the +Antilles, broke over Martinique. The historians of that period know not +how to depict the awful and calamitous events of this hurricane, which, +at the same time, seemed to shake the whole earth with its convulsions. +In Naples, in Sicily, in the Molucca Islands, volcanoes broke out in +fearful eruptions; for three days the earth trembled in Constantinople. +But it was over Martinique that the hurricane raged in the most +appalling manner. In less than four hours the howling northwest’ wind, +accompanied by forked lightning, rolling thunder, heavy water-spouts, +and tremendous earth-tremblings, had hurled down into fragments all the +houses of the town, all the sugar-plantations, and all the negro cabins. +Here and there the earth opened, flames darted out and spread round +about a horrible vapor of sulphur, which suffocated human beings. Trees +were uprooted, and the sugar and coffee plantations destroyed. The +sea roared and upheaved, sprang from its bounds, and shivered as mere +glass-work barks and even some of the larger ships lying in the harbor +of Port Royal. Five hundred men perished, and a much larger number +were severely wounded. Distress and poverty were the result of this +astounding convulsion of nature. + +The estate of M. Tascher de la Pagerie was made desolate. His residence, +his sugar-plantations, were but a heap of ruins and rubbish, and as +a gift of Providence he looked upon the one refuge left him in his +sugar-refinery, which was miraculously spared by the hurricane. There M. +Tascher saved himself, with Josephine and her younger sister, and there +his wife bore him a third child. But Heaven even now did not fulfil +the long-cherished wishes of the parents, for it was to a daughter that +Madame de la Pagerie gave birth. The parents were, however, weary with +murmuring against fate, which accomplished not their wish; and so to +prove to fate that this daughter was welcome, they named the child born +amid the horrors of this terrific hurricane, Desiree, the Desired. + +Peaceful, happy years followed;--peaceful and happy, in the midst of the +family, passed on the years of Josephine’s infancy. She had every thing +which could be procured. Beloved by her parents, by her two sisters, +worshipped by her servants and slaves, she lived amid a beautiful, +splendid, and sublime nature, in the very midst of wealth and affluence. +Her father, casting away all ambition, was satisfied to cultivate his +wide and immense domains, and to remain among his one hundred and fifty +slaves as master and ruler, to whom unconditional and cheerful obedience +was rendered. Her mother sought and wished for no other happiness than +the peaceful quietude of the household joys. Her husband, her children, +her home, constituted the world where she breathed, in which alone +centred her thoughts, her wishes, and her hopes. To mould her daughters +into good housekeepers and wives, and if possible to secure for them +in due time, by means of a brilliant and advantageous marriage, a happy +future--this was the only ambition of this gentle and virtuous woman. + +Above all things, it was necessary to procure to the daughters an +education suited to the claims of high social position, and which would +fit her daughters to act on the world’s stage the part which their +birth, their wealth, and beauty, reserved for them. The tender mother +consented to part with her darling, with her eldest daughter; and +Josephine, not yet twelve years old, was brought, for completing her +education, to the convent of our Lady de la Providence in Port Royal. +There she learned all which in the Antilles was considered necessary +for the education of a lady of rank; there she obtained that light, +superficial, rudimentary instruction, which was then thought sufficient +for a woman; there she was taught to write her mother tongue with a +certain fluency and without too many blunders; there she was instructed +in the use of the needle, to execute artistic pieces of embroidery; +there she learned something in arithmetic and in music; yea, so as to +give to the wealthy daughter of M. Tascher de la Pagerie a full and +complete education, the pious sisters of the convent consented that +twice a week a dancing-master should come to the convent to give to +Josephine lessons in dancing, the favorite amusement of the Creoles. +[Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Joseph Aubenas. +vol. i., p. 36.] + +These dancing-lessons completed the education of Josephine, and, +barely fifteen years old, she returned to her parents and sisters as an +accomplished young lady, to perform the honors of the house alongside +of her mother, to learn from her to preside with grace and ease over +a large mansion, and above all things to be a good mistress, a +benefactress, and a protectress to her slaves. Under her mother’s +guidance, Josephine visited the negro cabins to minister unto the sick, +to bring comfort and nourishment to the old and to the weak, to pray +with the dying, to take under her loving guardianship the new-born babes +of the negro women, to instruct in the catechism the grown-up children, +to excite them to industry, to encourage them through kindness and +friendliness, to protect them, and to be a mediator when for some +offence they were condemned to severe punishment. + +It was a wonderfully peaceful and beautiful life that of the young +Josephine, amid a bountiful nature, in that soft, sunny clime which +clothed her whole being with that tender, pleasing grace, that lovely +quietude, that yielding complacency, and at the same time with that +fiery, passionate nature of the Creoles. Ordinarily dressed only with +the “gaule,” a wide, loose garment of white muslin, falling loosely +about the waist, where no belt gathered its folds, the beautiful head +wrapped up in the many-colored madras, which around the temples was +folded up into graceful knots holding together her chestnut-brown +hair--in this dress Josephine would swing for hours in her hammock +made of homespun silk and ornamented with borders of feathers from the +variegated iridescent birds of Cayenne. + +Round about her were her young female slaves, watching with their +brilliant dark eyes their young mistress, ever ready to read every +wish upon that dreamy, smiling countenance, and by their swarthy tinge +heightening the soft, tender whiteness of her own complexion. + +Then, wearied with the stillness and with her dreams, Josephine would +spring up from the hammock, dart into the house with all the lightness +of the gazelle to enliven the family with her own joyousness, her merry +pleasantry, and accompanied by her guitar to sing unto them with her +lovely youthful voice the songs of the Creoles. As the glowing sun +was at its setting, away she hastened with her slaves into the garden, +directed their labors, and with her own hands tended her own cherished +flowers, which commingled together in admirable admixture from all +climes under the genial skies of the Antilles. In the evening, the +family was gathered together in the light of the moon, which imparted +to the nights the brightness of day and streamed upon them her soft +blue rays, upon the fragrant terrace, in front of the house, where the +faithful slaves carefully watched the little group close one to another +and guarded their masters from the approaches of poisonous serpents, +that insidious progeny of the night. + +On Sundays after Josephine had religiously and faithfully listened to an +early mass, she gladly attended in the evening the “barraboula” of the +negroes, dancing their African dances in the glare of torches and to the +monotonous sound of the tam-tam. + +On festivals, she assisted her mother to put all things in order, and +to preside at the great banquets given to relatives and friends, who +afterward were visited in their turn, and then the slaves carried their +masters in hammocks, or else, what was far more acceptable, the young +maidens mounted small Spanish horses, full of courage and daring, +and whose firm, quick step made a ride to Porto Rico simply a rushing +gallop. + +Amidst this dreamy, sunny, joyous existence of the young maiden gleamed +one day, as a lightning-flash, a prophetic ray of Josephine’s future +greatness. + +This happened one afternoon as she was walking alone and thoughtful +through the plantation. A group of negresses, in the centre of which was +an old and unknown woman, attracted her attention. Josephine approached. +It was an old negro woman from a neighboring plantation, and she +was telling the fortune of the young negro women of M. Tascher de la +Pagerie. No sooner did the old woman cast her eyes on Josephine than +she seemed to shrink into one mass, whilst an expression of horror and +wonder stole over her face. She vehemently seized the hand of the young +maiden, examined it carefully, and then lifted up her large, astonished +eyes with a searching expression to the face of Josephine. + +“You must see something very wonderful in my face and in my hand?” + inquired Josephine, laughing. + +“Yes, something very wonderful,” repeated the negro woman, still +intently staring at her. + +“Is it a good or a bad fortune which awaits me?” + +The old prophetess slowly shook her head. + +“Who can tell,” said she, gravely, “what is a good or a bad fortune +for human beings? In your hand I see evil, but in your face +happiness--great, lofty happiness.” + +“Well,” cried out Josephine, laughing, “you are cautious, and your +oracle is not very clear.” + +The old woman lifted up her eyes to heaven with a strange expression. + +“I dare not,” said she, “express myself more clearly.” + +“Speak on, whatever the result!” exclaimed Josephine, whose curiosity +was excited by the very diffidence of the fortune-teller. “Say what you +see in my future life. I wish it, I order you to do so.” + +“Well, if you order it, I must obey,” said she, with solemnity. “Listen, +then. I read in your countenance that you are called to high destinies. +You will soon be married. But your marriage will not be a happy one. You +will soon be a young widow, and then--” + +“Well, and then?” asked Josephine, passionately, as the old woman +hesitated and remained silent. + +“Well, and then you will be Queen of France--more than a queen!” shouted +the prophetess, with a loud voice. “You will live glorious, brilliant +days, but at the last misfortune will come and carry you to your grave +in a day of rebellion.” + +Afraid of the pictures which her prophetic vision had contemplated in +the future, the old hag forced her way through the circle of negro women +around, and rushed away through the field as fast as her feet could bear +her on. + +Josephine, laughing, turned to her astonished women, who had followed +with their eyes the flight of the prophetess, but who now directed their +dark eyes with an expression of awe and bewilderment to their young +mistress, of whom the fortune-teller had said she would one day be Queen +of France. Josephine endeavored to overthrow the faith of her swarthy +servants in the fortune-teller, and, by pointing to the ridiculous +prophecy in reference to herself, and which predicted an impossible +future, she tried to prove to them what a folly it was to rely on the +words of those who made a profession of foretelling the future. + +But against her will the prophetic words of the old woman echoed in the +heart of the young maiden. She could not return home to her family +and talk, laugh, and dance, as she had been accustomed to do with her +sisters. Followed by her slaves, she went into her garden and sank in +a hammock, hung amid the gigantic leaves of a palm-tree, and, while the +negro girls danced and sang round her, the young maid was dreaming about +the future, and her beating heart asked if it were not possible that the +prophecy of the negro woman might one day be realized. + +She, the daughter of M. Tascher de la Pagerie--she a future “Queen +of France! More than a queen!” Oh, it was mere folly to think on such +things, and to busy herself with the ludicrous prophecies of the old +woman. + +And Josephine laughed at her own credulity, and the slaves sang and +danced, and against her will the thoughts of the young maiden returned +to the prophecy again and again. + +What the old fortune-teller had said, was it so very ridiculous, so +impossible? Could not that prophecy become a reality? Was it, then, the +first time that a daughter of the Island of Martinique had been exalted +to grandeur and lofty honors? + +Josephine asked these questions to herself, as dreaming and thoughtful +she swung in the hammock and gazed toward the horizon upon the sea, +which, in its blue depths and brilliancy, hung there as if heaven had +lowered itself down to earth. That sea was a pathway to France, and +already once before had its waves wafted a daughter of the Island of +Martinique to a throne. + +Thus ran the thoughts of Josephine. She thought of Franchise d’Aubigne, +and of her wondrous story. A poor wanderer, fleeing from France to +search for happiness beyond the seas in a foreign land, M. d’Aubigne +had landed in Martinique with his young wife. There Franchise was born, +there passed away the first years of her life. Once, when a child of +three years old, she was bitten by a venomous serpent, and her life was +saved only through the devotion of her black nurse, who sucked alike +poison and death from the wound. Another time, as she was on a voyage +with her parents, the vessel was in danger of being captured by a +corsair; and a third time a powerful whirlwind carried into the waves of +the sea the little Francoise, who was walking on the shore, but a large +black dog, her companion and favorite, sprang after her, seized her +dress with its teeth, and carried the child back to the shore, where +sobbing for joy her mother received her. + +Fate had reserved great things for Francoise, and with all manner of +horrors it submitted the child to probation to make of it a strong and +noble woman. + +A severer blow came when her father, losing in gambling all the property +which he had gathered in Martinique, died suddenly, leaving his family +in poverty and want. Another blow more severe still came when on her +return to France, whither her mother was going with her, she lost this +last prop of her youth and childhood. Madame d’Aubigne died, and her +body was committed to the waves; and, as a destitute orphan, Francoise +d’Aubigne touched the soil of France. + +And what became of the poor orphan of the Creole of Martinique? + +She became the wife of a king, and nearly a queen! For Francoise +d’Aubigne, the widow of Scarron, the governess of the children of Louis +XIV, had caused the mother of these children, the beautiful Madame de +Montespan, to be cast away, and she became the friend, the beloved, +the secret spouse of the king: and the lofty Louis, who could say of +himself, “L’etat c’est moi” he, with all the power of his will, with all +his authority, was the humble vassal of Franchise d’Aubigne, Marquise de +Maintenon! + +This was the first princess whom Martinique had given to the world! + +Was it not possible that the prophecies of the old negro woman could be +realized? could not once more a daughter of the Island of Martinique be +exalted into a princess? + +“You will be Queen of France!” the negress had said. + +No, it was mere folly to believe in such a ridiculous prophecy. The +throne of France was now occupied. Alongside of her consort, the +good, the well-beloved Louis XVI, the young and beautiful Queen Marie +Antoinette, the daughter of the mighty Empress Maria Theresa, sat on the +throne. She was young, she was beloved throughout France, and she had +already, to the great delight of her husband and of his people, borne an +heir to the throne of France. + +The throne of the lilies stood then on firm and sure foundations, +and the prophecies of the old negress belonged only to the kingdom of +fables. [Footnote: This prophecy, nearly as related above, was told by +the Empress Josephine herself to her maids of honor in the castle of +Navarra.--See “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine, la Ville, la Cour +et les Salons de Paris sous l’Empire, par Madame Georgette Ducrest.”] + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE BETROTHAL. + + +Six months had barely elapsed since Josephine’s return from the convent +when the family Tascher de la Pagerie received from their relatives in +Paris letters which were to be of the greatest importance for the whole +family. + +The beautiful Madame de Renaudin, sister of M. Tascher de la Pagerie, +had settled in Paris after having rid herself of an unhappy marriage +with a man, coarse and addicted to gambling, and after having, through +a legal separation, reobtained her freedom. She lived there in the +closest, intimacy with the Marquis de Beauharnais, who, for many +years, at an earlier period, had resided as governor on the Island of +Martinique, and there had bound himself to the whole family of Tascher +de la Pagerie by the ties of a cordial friendship. His wife, during her +residence in Martinique, had been the most tender friend of Madame de +Renaudin, and when the marchioness bore a second son to her husband, +Madame de Renaudin had stood as godmother, and promised to love and +protect the child of her friend as if she were his mother. + +Chance brought on the opportunity of accomplishing this promise and of +fulfilling the oath made to God before the altar. The Marchioness de +Beauharnais returned to France in the year 1763 with her husband and +her two sons, but died there a short time after; and Madame de Renaudin, +true to her oath, hastened to replace the natural guardian, the mother. + +Perhaps she had but followed the dictates of her heart, perhaps against +her will a sentiment of joy had passed over her at the death of the +poor marchioness, for, by this death, one at least of the two obstacles +intervening between Madame de Renaudin and the Marquis de Beauharnais +had been removed. Both married, both of the Catholic religion, death +alone could make their hands free, and confer upon them the right of +joining hands together for all their days. + +They loved one another, they had ceased long ago to make a secret of it; +they avowed it to each other and to their dependants, for their brave, +loyal, and noble hearts would not stoop to falsehood and deception, and +they had the courage to acknowledge what their sentiments were. + +Death had then made free the hand of the Marquis de Beauharnais, but +life held yet in bondage the hand of the Baroness de Renaudin. + +As long as her husband lived, she could not, though legally divorced +from him, conscientiously think of a second marriage. + +But she possessed the courage and the loyalty of true love; she had seen +and experienced enough of the world to despise its judgments, and with +cheerful determination do what in her conscience she held to be good and +right. + +Before God’s altar she had promised to the deceased Marchioness de +Beauharnais to be a mother to her son; she loved the child and she loved +the father of this child, and, as she was now free, as she had no duties +which might restrain her footsteps, she followed the voice of her heart +and braved public opinion. + +She had purchased not far from Paris, at Noisy-le-Grand, a country +residence, and there passed the summer with the Marquis de Beauharnais, +with his two sons and their tutor. + +The marquis owned a superb hotel in Paris, in Thevenot Street, and +there, during winter, he resided with his two sons and the Baroness de +Renaudin, the mother, the guardian of his two orphan sons, the friend, +the confidante, the companion of his quiet life, entirely devoted to +study, to the arts, to the sciences, and to household pleasures. + +Thus the years passed away; the two sons of the Marquis de Beauharnais +had grown up under the care of their maternal friend: they had +been through their collegiate course, had been one year students at +Heidelberg, had returned, had been through the drill of soldier and +officer, a mere form which custom then imposed on young men of high +birth; and the younger son Alexander, the godchild of the Baroness de +Renaudin, had scarcely passed his sixteenth year when he received his +commission as sub-lieutenant. + +A year afterward his elder brother married one of his cousins, the +Countess Claude Beauharnais, and the sight of this youthful happy love +excited envy in the heart of the young lieutenant of seventeen years, +and awoke in him a longing for a similar blessedness. Freely and without +reserve he communicated his wishes to his father, begged of him to +choose him a wife, and promised to take readily and cheerfully as such +her whom his father or his sponsor, his second mother, would select for +him. + +A few months later reached Martinique the letters which, as already +said, were to be of the utmost importance to the family of M. Tascher de +la Pagerie. + +The first of these letters was from the Marquis de Beauharnais, and +addressed to the parents of Josephine, but with a considerate and +delicate tact the marquis had not written the letter with his own hand, +but had dictated it to his son Alexander, so as to prove to the family +of his friend De la Pagerie that the son was in perfect unison of +sentiment with the father, and that the latter only expressed what the +son desired and approved. + +“I cannot express,” wrote the marquis, “how much satisfaction I have +in being at this moment able to give you a proof of the inclination and +friendship which I always have had for you. As you will perceive, this +satisfaction is not merely on the surface. + +“My two sons,” continues he, “are now enjoying an annual income of forty +thousand livres. It is in your power to give me your daughter to enjoy +this income with my son, the chevalier. The esteem and affection he +feels for Madame de Renaudin makes him passionately desire to be united +with her niece. I can assure you that I am only gratifying his wishes +when I pray you to give me for him your second daughter, whose age +corresponds at best with his. I sincerely wish that your eldest daughter +were a few years younger, for then she would certainly have had the +preference, the more so that she is described to me under the most +advantageous colors. But I confess my son, who is but seventeen and a +half years old, thinks that a young lady of fifteen is too near him +in age. This is one of those cases in which reasonable and reflecting +parents will accommodate themselves to circumstances.” + +M. de Beauharnais adds that his son possesses all the qualities +necessary to make a woman happy. At the same time he declares that, as +regards his future daughter-in-law, he has no claims to a dowry, for +his son already possesses an income of forty thousand livres from his +mother’s legacy, and that after his father’s death he will inherit +besides an annual income of twenty-five thousand livres. He then +entreats M. de la Pagerie, as soon as practicable, to send his daughter +to France, and, if possible, to bring her himself. The marquis then +addresses himself directly to the wife of M. de la Pagerie, and repeats +to her in nearly the same words his proposal, and endeavors also to +excuse to her the choice of the second daughter. + +“The most flattering things have been told me,” writes he, “of your +eldest daughter, but my son finds her, with her fifteen years, too old +for him. My son is worthy of becoming your son-in-law; Nature has gifted +him with good and fine parts, and his income is sufficiently large to +share it with a wife qualified to render him happy. Such a one I trust +to find in your second daughter; may she resemble you, madame, and I can +no longer doubt of my son’s happiness! I feel extremely happy to see my +long-cherished wishes satisfied! I can not express to you how great +will be my joy to see riveted forever, by means of this union of our two +families, the inclination and the friendship which have already so long +chained us together. I trust that Mademoiselle de la Pagerie will not +refuse her consent. Allow me to embrace her and already to greet her as +my own beloved daughter.” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice +Josephine,” vol. i., p. 78.] + +To this letter was addressed a note from Madame de Renaudin to her +brother and to her sister-in-law. She openly acknowledges that she +it was who desired this union, and who had brought the matter to its +present stage, and she endeavors to meet the objection that it would +appear strange for a young lady to undertake a long journey in search of +a future husband, whilst it would be more expedient that the bridegroom +should make the journey to his bride, to receive her at the hands of +her parents, and bring her with him to a new home. But this bride of +thirteen years must first be trained for her future destiny; she is +not to be in the house of her future father-in-law, but in the house of +Madame de Renaudin, her aunt, and she is there to receive the completion +of her education and that higher culture which her parents, even with +all the necessary means, could not give her in Martinique. + +“We are of opinion,” she writes, “that the young people must see one +another and please each other, before we bring this matter to a close, +for they are both too dear to us to desire to coerce them against their +inclination. Your daughter will find in me a true and kind mother, and +I am sure that she will find the happiness of her future life in the +contemplated union, for the chevalier is well qualified to make a wife +happy. All that I can say of him exhausts by no means the praise he +deserves. He has a pleasant countenance, an excellent figure, wit, +genius, knowledge, and, what is more than this, all the noble qualities +of heart and soul are united in him, and he must consequently be loved +by all who know him.” + +Meanwhile, before these letters reached Martinique, chance had already +otherwise decided the fate of Mary, the second daughter of M. de la +Pagerie. With one sentence it had destroyed all the family schemes. +After three days of confinement to a bed of sickness, Mary had died of a +violent fever, and when the letter, in which the Marquis de Beauharnais +asked for her hand, reached her father, she had been buried three +months. + +M. Tascher de la Pagerie hastened to announce her death to the Marquis +and to Madame de Renaudin; and to prove to them how much he also had at +heart a union of the two families, he offered to his son, the chevalier, +the hand of his third daughter, the little twelve-year-old Desiree. +Undoubtedly it would have been more gratifying to him if the choice of +the marquis had fallen upon his eldest daughter, and he makes this known +very clearly in his answer to Madame de Renaudin. + +“My eldest daughter,” writes he, “Josephine, who is lately returned from +the convent, and who has often desired me to take her to France, will, +believe me, be somewhat sensitive at the preference given to her younger +sisters. Josephine has a beautiful head, beautiful eyes and arms, and +also a wonderful talent for music. During her stay in the convent I +procured her a guitar-teacher; she has made the best of the instruction +received, and she has a glorious voice. It is a pity she has not the +opportunity of completing her education in France; and were I to have my +wish, I would bring her to you instead of my other two daughters.” + +Meanwhile the Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his son, found that the +youngest daughter of M. de la Pagerie was too young for their impatient +desire to bring to a favorable issue these important family concerns, +and that the eldest of the daughters ought to have the preference. The +son of the marquis especially pronounced himself decidedly in favor of +Josephine, and father and son, as well as Madame de Renaudin, turned +imploringly to M. Tascher de la Pagerie, praying that he would bring +them his eldest daughter. + +Now, for the first time, when the choice of the Beauharnais family +had irrevocably fallen upon Josephine, now for the first time was this +proposed marriage made known to her, and her consent asked. + +Josephine, whose young heart was like a blank sheet of paper, whereon +love had as yet written no name, Josephine rejoiced at the prospect +of accomplishing the secret wish of her maiden heart, to go to +Paris--Paris, the burning desire of all Creoles--Paris, after all the +narratives and descriptions, which had been made to Josephine, rose +before the soul of the young maiden as a golden morning dream, a +charming fairy world; and full of gratitude she already loved her future +husband, to whom she owed the happiness of becoming acquainted with the +city of wonders and pleasures. + +She therefore acquiesced without regret at being separated from +her parents and from her sister, from the home of all her sweet +reminiscences of youth, and joyously, in August of the year 1779, she +embarked on board the vessel which was to take her with her father to +France. + +In the middle of October they both, after a stormy passage, touched +the soil of France and announced to their relatives their safe arrival. +Alexandre de Beauharnais, full of impatient longings to see his unknown +young bride, hastened to Brest to bid her and her father welcome, and to +accompany them to Paris. + +The first meeting of the young couple decided their future. Josephine, +smiling and blushing, avowed to her father that she was willing and +ready to marry M. Alexandre Beanharnais; and, the very first day of +his meeting with Josephine, Alexandre wrote to his father that he was +enchanted with the choice made, and that he felt strongly convinced +that, at the side of so charming, sweet, and lovely a being, he would +lead a happy and sunny life. + +The love of the children had crowned all the schemes of the parents, +and on the 13th of December, 1779, the marriage of the young couple took +place. On the 13th of December, Mademoiselle Josephine Tascher de la +Pagerie became the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE YOUNG BONAPARTE. + + +In the same year, 1779, in which Josephine de la Pagerie for the first +time left Martinique for Prance, a vessel which had sailed from Corsica +brought to France a boy who, not only as regards Josephine’s life, +but also as regards all Europe, yea, the whole world, was to be of the +highest importance, and who, with the iron step of fatality, was to +walk through Europe to subvert thrones and raise up new ones; to tread +nations in the dust, and to lift up others from the dust; to break +tyranny’s chains in which people languished, so as to impose upon them +his own chains. + +This boy was Napoleon Bonaparte, the son of the advocate Charles de +Bonaparte. + +From Ajaccio, the principal town of Corsica, came the ship which brought +to France the boy, his father, and his two elder brothers. In Ajaccio +the family of the Bonapartes had been settled for more than a century. +There also Napoleon had passed the first years of his life, in the +family circle with his parents, and in joyous amusements with his five +brothers and sisters. + +His father, Charles de Bonaparte, belonged to one of the noble families +of Corsica, and was one of the most influential men on the island. His +mother, Letitia Ramolina, was well known throughout the island for her +beauty, and the only woman who could have been her rival, for she was +her equal in beauty, youth, and grace, was her dearest friend, the +beautiful Panonia de Comnene, afterward the mother of the Duchess +d’Abrantes. + +The beautiful Letitia Ramolina was married to Charles de Bonaparte the +same year that her friend Panonia de Comnene became the wife of M. +de Permont, a high French official in Ajaccio. Corsica was then the +undisputed property of the kingdom of France, and, however proud the +Corsicans were of their island, yet they were satisfied to be called +subjects of France, and to have their beautiful island considered as a +province of France. + +Napoleon Bonaparte was the fifth child of his parents, the favorite of +his beautiful mother Letitia, who was the life of the household, the +ruler of the family. She governed the house, she educated the children; +she knew, with the genuine ability of a housekeeper, of a mother, how to +spend with careful frugality the moderate income of her husband; how +to economize, and yet how to give to each what was needed. As to the +father, in the hours of leisure which business, political debates, and +amusements allowed him to give to his home and family, his children were +an agreeable recreation, an interesting pastime; and when the children, +carried away by the sparkling fire of youth, shouted or cried too loud, +the father endeavored to palliate their misdemeanor, and obtain their +pardon from their mother. Then Letitia’s eyes were fastened with a +flaming glance upon her husband, and, imperatively bidding him leave the +children, she would say: “Let them alone. Their education concerns you +not. I am the one to keep the eyes upon them.” + +She trained them up with the severity of a father and with the +tenderness of a mother. Inexorable against every vice of heart and +character, she was lenient and indulgent toward petty offences which +sprang up from the inconsiderateness and spiritedness of youth. Every +tendency to vulgar sentiments, to mean envy or selfishness, she strove +to uproot by galling indignation; but every thing which was great and +lofty, all sentiments of honor, of courage, of large-heartedness, of +generosity, of kindness, she nursed and cherished in the hearts of her +children. It was a glorious sight to contemplate this young mother +when with her beautiful, rosy countenance glowing with enthusiasm and +blessedness, she stood among her children, and in fiery, expressive +manner spoke to the listening group of the great and brave of old, of +the deeds of a Caesar, of a Hannibal; when she spoke of Brutus, who, +though he loved Caesar, yet, greater than Caesar, and a more exalted +Roman in his love for the republic, sacrificed his love to the +fatherland; or when she, with that burning glow which all Corsicans, the +women as well as the men, cherish for their home and for the historical +greatness of their dear island, told them of the bravery and self-denial +even unto death with which the Corsicans for centuries had fought for +the freedom of their island; how, faithful to the ancient sacred law of +blood, they never let the misdeed pass unpunished; they never feared the +foe, however powerful he might be, but revenged on him the evil which he +had committed against sister or brother, father or mother. + +And when Letitia thus spoke to her children in the beautiful and +harmonious language of her country, the eyes of the little Napoleon +were all aflame, his childish countenance suddenly assumed a grave +expression, and on the little body of the child was seen a man’s head, +glowing with power, energy, and pride. + +These narratives of his mother, these enthusiastic stories of heroes +of the past, which the boy, with loud-beating heart, with countenance +blanched by mental excitement, gathered from the beautiful lips of his +mother, were the highest pleasure of the little Napoleon, and often in +future years has the emperor amid his glory thought of those days never +to be forgotten, when the child’s heart and soul hung on his mother’s +lips, and listened to her wondrous stories of heroes. + +These narratives of Letitia, this enthusiasm which her glowing language +awoke in the heart of the child, this whole education which Letitia gave +to her children, became the corner-stone of their future. As a sower, +Letitia scattered the seed from which hero and warrior were to spring +forth, and the grain which fell into the heart of her little Napoleon +found a good soil, and grew and prospered, and became a laurel-tree, +which adorned the whole family of the Bonapartes with the blooming crown +of immortality. + +Great men are ever much more the sons of their mother than of the +father, while seldom have great men seen their own greatness survive in +their sons. This is a wonderful secret of Nature, which perhaps cannot +be explained, but which cannot be denied. + +Goethe was the true son of his talented and noble mother, but he could +leave as a legacy to his son only the fame of a name, and not his +genius. Henry IV., the son of a noble, spiritual and large-hearted +Jeanne de Navarre, could not leave to France, which worshipped and loved +her king, could not leave to his people, a successor who resembled him, +and who would inherit his sharp-sightedness, his prudence, his courage, +and his greatness of soul. His son and successor was Louis XIII., a king +whose misfortune it was ever to be overruled, ever to be humbled, ever +to stand in the shade of two superior natures, which excited his envy, +but which he was never competent to overcome; ever overshadowed by the +past glories which his father’s fame threw upon him, overshadowed by the +ruler and mentor of his choice, his minister, the Cardinal de Richelieu, +who darkened his whole sad existence. + +Napoleon was the son of his mother, the large-hearted and high-minded +Letitia Ramolina. But how distant was the son of the hero, who, from a +poor second lieutenant, had forced his way to the throne of France! how +distant the poor little Duke de Reichstadt from his great father! Even +over the life of this son of an eminent father weighed a shadow--the +shadow of his father’s greatness. Under this shadow which the column of +Vendome cast from Paris to the imperial city of Vienna, which the steep +rock of St. Helena cast even upon the castle of Schonbrunn, under this +shadow died the Duke de Reichstadt, the unfortunate son of his eminent +father. + +The little Napoleon was always a shy, reserved, quiet boy. For hours +long he could hide in some obscure corner of the house or of the garden, +and sit there with head bent low and eyes closed, half asleep and half +dreaming; but when he opened his eyes, what a life in those looks! What +animation, what exuberance in his whole being, when awaking from his +childish dreams he mixed again with his brothers, sisters, and friends! + +Letitia’s words and example had penetrated the soul of the child with +the highest emotions of honor and human dignity, and the little boy of +seven years exhibited oftentimes the sentiments of honor, pride, and +obstinacy of a man. Every bodily correction to which he was submitted +made him turn pale and tremble, not from pain but for shame, filled him +with indignation, and was apt to bring on sickness. In Corsica still +prevailed the custom of severe discipline for children, and in all the +classes of the school the rod was applied as a means of punishment and +reformation. To beat one’s wife was considered in Corsica, as everywhere +else, an unpardonable brutality; but parents as well as teachers whipped +children to mould them into noble, refined, honorable men. + +The little Napoleon would not adapt himself to the blessings of this +education, and the mere threats of the rod-switching deprived the child +of his senses and threw him into convulsions. But though the little +Napoleon was gloomy, monosyllabic, and quiet, yet was he from early +childhood the favorite of all who knew him, and he already wielded over +brothers, sisters, and companions, a wonderful influence. + +When a boy of four years old, Letitia sent him to a sort of play-school, +where boys and girls amused themselves together and learned the ABC. The +young Napoleon was soon the soul of the little company. The boys obeyed +him, and submitted to his will; the girls trembled before him, and yet +with a smile they pressed toward him merely to be near him and to have +a place at his side. And the four-year child already practised a tender +chivalry. One of his little school-companions had made an impression on +his heart; he honored her with special favors, sat at her side during +the lessons, and when they left school to return home, the little +Napoleon never missed, with complete gravity of countenance, to offer +his arm to his favorite of five years of age and to accompany her to her +home. But the sight of this gallant, with his diminutive, compact, +and broad figure, over which the large head, with its earnestness of +expression, seemed so incongruous, and which moved on with so much +gravity, while the socks fell from the naked calves over the heels--all +this excited the merriment of the other children; and when, arm-in-arm +with his little schoolmate, he thus moved on, the other urchins in +great glee shouted after him: “Napoleone di mezza calzetta dall’ amore +a Giacominetta!” (“Napoleon in socks is the lover of the little +Giacominetta!”) + +The boy endured these taunts with the stoic composure of a philosopher, +but never after did he offer his arm to the little Giacominetta, and +never afterward did his socks hang down over his heels. + +When from this “mixed school” he passed into a boys’ school, the little +Napoleon distinguished himself above all the other boys by his ambition, +his deep jealousy, his perseverance at learning and studying, and he +soon became the favorite of the Abbe Recco, [Footnote: Napoleon, in his +testament, written at St. Helena, willed a fixed sum of money to this +Professor Recco, in gratitude for the instruction given him in his +youth.] who taught at the royal college of Ajaccio as professor. A few +times every week the worthy professor would gather his pupils in a large +hall, to read them lectures upon ancient history, and especially upon +the history of Rome; and, in order to give to this hall a worthy and +significant ornament, he had it adorned on either side with two large +and costly banners, one of which had the initials S. P. Q. E., and +represented the standard of ancient Rome; facing it and on the opposite +side of the hall was the standard of Carthage. + +Under the shadows of these standards were ranged the seats for the +scholars, and in the vacant centre of the large hall was the professor’s +chair, from which the Abbe Recco dictated to his pupils the history of +the heroic deeds of ancient Rome. + +The elder children sat under the larger standard, under the standard of +Rome, and the junior boys immediately opposite, under the standard of +Carthage; and as Napoleon Bonaparte was the youngest scholar of the +institution, he sat near the Carthaginian standard, whilst his brother +Joseph, his senior by five years, had his seat facing him on the Roman +side. Though at the commencement of the lectures Napoleon’s delight had +been great, and though he had listened with enthusiasm to the history +of the struggles, and to the martial achievements of the ancient Romans, +the little Napoleon soon manifested an unmistaken repugnance to attend +these lectures. He would turn pale, as with his brother he entered the +hall, and with head bowed low, and dark, angry countenance, took his +seat. A few days afterward he declared to his brother Joseph, his lips +drawn in by anguish, that he would no more attend the lectures. + +“And why not?” asked Joseph, astonished. “Do you take no interest in the +Roman history? Can you not follow the lecture?” + +The little Napoleon darted upon his brother a look of inexpressible +contempt. “I would be a simpleton if the history of heroes did not +interest me,” said he, “and I understand everything the good Professor +Recco says--I understand it so well that I often know beforehand what +his warriors and heroes will do.” + +“Well, then, since you have such a lively interest in the history of the +Romans, why will you no more follow the lectures?” + +“No, I will not, I cannot,” murmured Napoleon, sadly. + +“Tell me, at least, the reason, Napoleon,” said his brother. + +The boy looked straight before him, for a long time hesitating and +undecided; then he threw up his head in a very decided manner, and gazed +on his brother with flaming eyes. + +“Yes,” cried he, passionately, “I will tell you! I can no longer endure +the shame to sit down under the standard of the conquered and humiliated +Carthaginians. I do not deserve to be so disgraced.” + +“But, Napoleon,” said Joseph, laughing, “why trouble yourself about the +standard of the old Carthaginians? One is just as well under it as under +the Roman standard.” + +“Is it, then, the same to you under which standard you sit? Do you not +consider it as a great honor to sit under the standard of the victorious +Romans?” + +“I look upon the one as being without honor, and upon the other as being +without shame,” said Joseph, smiling. + +“If it is so,” cried out the little Napoleon, throwing himself on his +brother’s neck, “if it is for you no great sacrifice, then, I implore +you to save me, to make me happy, for you can do it! Let us change +seats; give me your place under the standard of Rome, and take my place +instead.” + +Joseph declared himself ready to do so, and when the two brothers came +next time to the lecture, Napoleon, with uplifted head and triumphant +countenance, took his seat under the standard of victorious Rome. + +But soon the expression of joy faded away from his face, and his +features were overcast, and with a restless, sad look, he repeatedly +turned himself toward his brother Joseph, who sat facing him under the +standard of the conquered race. + +Silent and sad he went home with Joseph, and when his mother questioned +him about the cause of his sorrow, he confessed, with tears in his +eyes, that he was a heartless egotist, that he had been unjust and cruel +toward Joseph, that he had cheated his brother of his place of honor and +had seated himself in it. + +It required the most earnest assurances of Joseph that he placed no +value whatever on the seat; it required all the persuasiveness and +authority of Letitia to appease the boy, and to prevail upon him to +resume the conquered seat. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., +p.40.] + +As the course of instruction which the boys had received in Ajaccio was +not sufficient for the times, and for the capacities of his sons, their +father passed over to France with Joseph and Napoleon, to take advantage +of the favorable resources for a more complete education. + +Napoleon saw the time of departure approach with an apparently +indifferent mind, only his face was somewhat paler, he was still more +monosyllabic and more reserved than before; and his eyes, full of an +indescribable expression of tenderness and admiration, followed all the +movements of his mother, as if to print deeply in his soul the beloved +image, so as to take it with him beyond the seas, in all its freshness +and beauty. + +He wept not as he bade her farewell; not a word of sorrow or regret +did he speak, but he embraced his mother with impassioned fondness, +he kissed her hands, her forehead, her large black eyes, he sank down +before her and kissed her feet, then sprang up, and, after casting upon +her whole figure a deep, glowing look, he rushed away to embark at once, +without waiting for brother or father, who were yet bidding a touching +farewell to relatives and friends. + +Letitia gazed after her Napoleon with glowing and wide-open eyes; she +wept not, she complained not, but she pressed her two hands on her heart +as if to keep it from breaking asunder, from bleeding to death; then she +called all her children around her, and, folding them up in her arms, +exclaimed: “Join your hands and pray with me that our little Napoleon +may return home to us a noble and great man.” + +As soon as they had prosperously landed in France, the father placed +his two sons in the college of Autun, and then travelled farther on +to Paris, there to obtain, through the influence of his patrons and +friends, a place for his daughter Marianne (afterward Elise) in St. +Cyr, an institution for the daughters of noblemen, and also a place for +Napoleon in the military school of Brienne. His efforts were crowned +with success; and whilst Joseph remained at college in Autun, Napoleon +had to part with him and go to Brienne. + +When the brothers bade farewell one to another, Joseph wept bitterly, +and his sighs and tears choked the tender words of farewell which his +quivering lips would have uttered. + +Napoleon was quiet, and as his eye moistened with a tear, he endeavored +to hide it, and turned aside ashamed of himself and nearly indignant, +for he did not wish the Abbe Simon, one of the professors of the +college, who was present at the parting of the brothers, to see his +unmanly tenderness. + +But the Abbe Simon had seen that tear, and when Napoleon was gone he +said to Joseph: “Napoleon has shed but one tear, but that tear proves +his deep sorrow as much as all your tears.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi +Joseph,” vol. i., p.26.] + +Taciturn and quiet as he had been in Ajaccio, the little Napoleon was +equally so at the military school of Brienne, where he remained from +his eleventh to his sixteenth year. His character had always something +sombre and hidden; his eye seemed turned more inwardly than outwardly; +and his fellowship with his books seemed to procure him a more pleasant +recreation than the company of his schoolmates, whose childish joys +and pleasures he despised or pretended to do so, because his limited +pecuniary resources did not allow him to share with them pleasures of an +expensive nature. + +But, though still and reserved, he always was friendly and courteous to +his comrades, grateful for every mark of friendship and kindness, and +always ready to protect the young and feeble against the overbearing +and the strong, censuring with grave authority every injustice, and with +Spartan harshness throwing his contempt into the very face of him who, +according to his standard, had offended against honor, the lofty spirit +and the dignity of a freeman. + +It could not fail that soon Napoleon should win over his schoolmates +a marked moral influence; that they would listen to him as if he were +their superior; that they should feel something akin to fear in presence +of the flashing eyes of this little boy of barely fourteen years, whose +pale, expressive countenance, when illumined with anger, almost seemed +to them more terrible than that of the irritated face of the teacher, +and whom they therefore more willingly and more unconditionally obeyed +than the principal of the establishment. + +One day the latter had forbidden the scholars to go to the fair in a +neighboring locality, because they had lately been guilty of excesses +on a similar occasion; and, so as to be sure that the scholars would not +trespass against his orders, the principal had the outside gate in the +front yard locked. + +This last circumstance kindled Napoleon’s anger; he considered it as an +insult that the scholars should be treated as prisoners. + +“Had we been ordered in the name of the law to remain here,” cried +he, “then honor itself would have claimed from us to remain, for law +commands obedience to our superiors. But since we are treated as slaves, +who are by main force compelled to submission, then honor claims from us +to prove to our oppressors that we are free beings, and that we desire +to remain such. We are treated as prisoners of war, kept under lock and +bolt, but no one has demanded our word of honor that we will make no +effort to escape this subjection. Whosoever has a brave heart and a soul +full of honor’s love, let him follow me!” + +All the youngsters followed him without hesitation. More submissive to +this pale, small boy of fourteen years, than to the severe, strong, +and exalted principal, none dared oppose him as he stood in the garden, +facing a remote place in the wall, and giving orders to undermine it, +so as to make an outlet. All obeyed the given orders, all were animated +with burning zeal, with cheerful alacrity; and after an hour of earnest +labor the work was done, and the passage under the wall completed. + +The scholars wanted to rush with jubilant cries through the opening, and +gain their freedom outside of the wall, but Napoleon held them back. + +“I will go first,” said he. “I have been your leader throughout this +expedition, now I will be the first to pass out, that upon me may fall +the punishment when we are discovered.” + +The young men fell back silently and respectfully, while, proud and +stately as a field-marshal who gives the signal for the battle, Napoleon +passed through their ranks, to be the first from the crowd to go through +the newly-made passage. + +It could not fail that the daring of these “prisoners of war” should be +discovered, that the principal should be the very same day informed that +the young men had, notwithstanding his strict orders, notwithstanding +the closed gate, made a way for themselves, and had visited the +prohibited fair, while the principal believed them to be in the garden. + +A strict inquiry took place the next morning. With threatening tones, +the principal ordered the young men to name him who had guided them +to so unheard-of a deed, who had misled them into disobedience and +insubordination. But all were still; none wished to be a traitor, not +even when the principal promised to all full pardon, full impunity, if +they would but name the instigator of their guilty action. + +But as no one spoke, as no one would name him, Napoleon gave himself up +as the culpable one. + +“I alone am guilty,” cried he, proudly. “I alone deserve punishment. +These have done only what I commanded them--they have but followed my +orders, nothing more. The guilt and the punishment are mine alone.” + +The principal, glad to know the guilty one, kept his promise, and, +forgiving the rest, decided to punish only the one who acknowledged +himself to have been the leader. + +Napoleon was, therefore, sentenced to the severest and most degrading +punishment known in the institution--to the so-called “monk’s penalty.” + That is to say, the future young soldier, in the coarse woollen garment +of a mendicant friar, was on his knees, to devour his meal from an +earthen vessel in the middle of the dining-room, while all the other +boys were seated at the table. + +A deathly pallor overspread the face of the boy when he heard this +sentence. He had been for many days imprisoned in a cell with bread and +water, and he had without a murmur submitted to this correction, endured +already on a former occasion, but this degrading punishment broke his +courage. + +Stunned, as it were, and barely conscious, he allowed the costume of the +punishment to be put on, but when he had been led into the dining-room, +where all the scholars were gathered for the noonday meal, when he was +forced upon his knees, he sank down to the ground with a heavy sigh, and +was seized with violent convulsions. + +The rector himself, moved with deepest sympathy for the wounded spirit +of the boy, hastened to raise up Napoleon. At the same moment rushed +into the hall one of the teachers of the institution, M. Patrault, who +had just been informed of the execution which was about to be carried +out on Napoleon. With tears in his eyes, he hastened to Napoleon, and +with trembling hands tore from his shoulders the detestable garment, and +broke out at the same time in loud complaints that his best scholar, +his first mathematician, was to be dishonored and treated in an unworthy +manner. + +Napoleon, however, was not always the reserved, grave boy who took +no part in the recreations and pleasures of the rest of his young +schoolmates. Whenever these amusements were of a more serious, of a +higher nature, Napoleon gladly and willingly took a part in them. Now +and then in the institution, on festivals, theatrical representations +took place, and on these occasions the citizens of Brienne were allowed +to be present. + +But to maintain respectable order, every one who desired to be present +at the representation had to procure a card of admission signed by the +principal. On the day of the exhibition, at the different doors of the +institution, were posted guards who received the admission cards, and +whose strict orders were to let no one pass in without them. These +posts, which were filled by the scholars, were under the supervision +of superior and inferior officers, and were confided only to the most +distinguished and most praiseworthy students. + +One day, Voltaire’s tragedy, “The Death of Caesar,” was exhibited. +Napoleon had the post of honor of a first lieutenant for this festivity, +and with grave earnestness he filled the duties of his office. + +Suddenly at the entrance of the garden arose a loud noise and vehement +recriminations of threatening and abusive voices. + +It was Margaret Haute, the porter’s wife, who wanted to come in, though +she had no card of admission. She was well known to all the students, +for at the gate of the institution she had a little stall of fruits, +eggs, milk, and cakes, and all the boys purchased from her every day, +and liked to jest and joke with the pleasant and obliging woman. + +Margaret Haute had therefore considered it of no importance to procure a +card of admission, which thing she considered to be superfluous for such +an important and well-known personage as herself. The greater was her +astonishment and anger when admission was refused, and she therefore +began to clamor loudly, hoping by this means to attract some of the +scholars, who would recognize her and procure her admittance. Meanwhile +the post guardian dared not act without superior orders, and the +inferior officer hastened to communicate the important event to the +first lieutenant, Napoleon de Bonaparte, and receive his decision. + +Napoleon, who ordinarily was kind to the fruit-vender, and gladly +jested with the humorous and coarse woman, listened to the report of +the lieutenant with furrowed brow and dark countenance, and with severe +dignity gave his orders: “Remove that woman, who takes upon herself +to introduce licentiousness into the camp.” [Footnote: Afterward, when +First Consul, Napoleon sent for this woman and her husband to come to +Paris, and he gave them the lucrative position of porter at the castle +of Malmaison, which charge they retained unto their death.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. + + +While the boy Napoleon de Bonaparte pursued his studies as a student in +Brienne, she, who was one day to share his greatness and his fame, had +already appeared on the world’s stage as the wife of another. Josephine +Tascher de la Pagerie was already received in the highest society of +Paris as the Viscountess de Beauharnais. + +Every thing seemed to promise to the young couple a happy, secure +future, free from care. They were both young, wealthy, of good family, +and though the parents had planned this marriage and joined together +the hands of the young couple, yet it was their good fortune that love +should tie and strengthen the bond which mere expediency had formed. + +Yes, they loved one another, these young married people of sixteen and +eighteen. How could it have been otherwise, when they both met each +other with the candid and honest desire to make one another happy; when +each of them had been so well adapted to the other that their brilliant, +good, and beautiful qualities were so prominent that their eyes were +blinded to the possibility of imperfections and vices which perchance +remained in the obscure background of their virtue and of their +amiableness? + +Josephine had entered upon her marriage with a pure maiden heart, and +soon this heart glowed with enthusiasm for her young husband, who in +reality was well qualified to excite enthusiasm in a young maid and +instil into her a passionate attachment. Alexandre de Beauharnais was +one of the most brilliant and most beloved personages at the court +of Versailles. His face had all the beauty of regularity; his figure, +marked by a lofty, even if somewhat heavy form, was tall, well knit, +and of wonderful elasticity and energy; his manners were noble and +prepossessing, fine and natural. Even in a court so distinguished as +that of Versailles for many remarkable chevaliers, the Viscount de +Beauharnais was considered as one of the most lovely and most gifted: +even the young Queen Marie Antoinette honored him with special +distinction. She had called him the most beautiful dancer of Versailles, +and consequently it was very natural that up to the time of his marriage +he should be invited to every court-ball, and there should each time +enjoy the pleasure of being requested to dance with the queen. + +This flattering distinction of the Queen Marie Antoinette had naturally +made the young viscount the mark of attention of all these beautiful, +young, and coquettish ladies of Versailles. They used to say of him, +that in the dancing-room he was a zephyr, fluttering from flower to +flower, but at the head of his regiment he was a Bayard, dreaming only +of war and carnage. + +It was, therefore, quite natural that so brilliant and so preferred +a cavalier, a young man of so many varied accomplishments, a being +so impassioned, so gallant, should soon become the object of the most +tender and passionate fondness from a young wife, who in her quiet +native land had seen none to compare with him, and who became for her +the ideal of beauty, chivalry, elegance, and whom, in her devoted and +admiring love, she used to call her own Achilles. + +Josephine loved her husband; she loved him with all the devotedness and +fire of a creole; she loved him and breathed but for him, and to be with +him seemed to her life’s golden, blessed dream. Added to all this, +came the joys and raptures of a Parisian life--these new, unknown, +diversified pleasures of society, these manifold distractions and +entertainments of the great city. Josephine abandoned herself to all +this with the joy and wantonness of an innocent, unsuspicious being. +With all these glorious things round about her, she felt as if +surrounded by a sea of blessedness and pleasure, and she plunged into it +with the quiet daring of innocency, which foresees not what breakers and +abysses this sea encloses under the shining surface. + +But these breakers were there, and against them was the happiness of +Josephine’s love soon to be dashed to pieces. + +She loved her young husband with her whole heart, with all her soul. But +he, the young, the flattered Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais, he also +loved his young wife, whom the wish and will of his superiors had placed +at his side. + +He had not chosen her because he loved her, but only because he had +thought it expedient and advisable to become married, and because the +unknown Mademoiselle de la Pagerie had been offered to him as “a good +settlement.” Perhaps, also, he had contracted this marriage to get rid +all at once of those manifold ties, intrigues, and attachments which his +open, unrestrained life of youth had woven around him, for his marriage +with the young creole had put an end to many love-intrigues which +perchance threatened to be inconvenient and burdensome. + +At first charmed by her foreign, unaccustomed appearance, transported by +her ingenuous grace, her sweet, lovely amiableness and freshness, he had +fully decided to love his young wife, and, with all the triumphant pride +of a lover, he had led Josephine into society, into the saloons. + +But his eye was not blinded by the ravishment of a real and true love, +and in the drawing-room he saw what, in the solitude of the residence +of Noisy, where the young couple had retired for a few weeks after their +marriage, he might never have missed--he saw that Josephine possessed +not the lofty elegance and the exquisite manners of the ladies of the +Parisian saloons. She always was a charming, artless, graceful young +woman, but she lacked the striking advantages of a real drawing-room +lady; she lacked that perfect self-possession, that pliancy of +refinement, that sparkling wit, and that penetration, which then +characterized the ladies of the higher Parisian society, and which the +young viscount had but lately so fondly and passionately admired in the +beautiful and celebrated Baroness de B. + +The viscount saw all these deficiencies of his young wife’s social +education, and this darkened his brow and brought on his cheek the flush +of shame. He was cruel enough to reproach Josephine, in somewhat harsh +and imperious tones, of her lack of higher culture, and thus the first +matrimonial difference clouded the skies of marriage happiness, which +the young unsuspecting wife had believed would ever be bright with +sunshine. + +Josephine, however, loved her young husband too fondly not to cheerfully +comply with all his wishes, not to strive to replace what he reproached +her to be lacking. + +On a sudden she left the brilliant, enchanting Paris, which had +entranced her with its many joys and its many distractions, and, as her +husband had to be for some time at Blois with his regiment, she went +to Noisy, to her aunt’s residence, so as to labor at her higher mental +culture, at the side of the lovely and intellectual Madame de Renaudin. + +Josephine had hitherto, as a simple, sentimental young lady, played the +guitar, and chirped with it, in her fresh but uncultivated voice, her +sweet songs of love. She gave up the guitar, the favorite instrument of +the creoles, and exchanged it for the harp, for which attainment as well +as for the art of singing she procured the best and ablest masters. Even +a dancing-master had to come to Noisy to give to the young viscountess +that perfection of art which would enable her, without fear, to dance at +a ball alongside of the Viscount de Beauharnais, “the beautiful dancer +of Versailles.” With her aunt she read the works of the writers and +poets who were then praised and loved, and with wonderful predilection +she also studied botany, to which science she ever clung during her +life, and which threw on her existence gleams of joy when the sun of her +happiness had long set. + +Josephine, who out of pure love for her husband learned and studied +zealously, communicated to the viscount, in her letters, every +advancement she made in her studies; and she was proud and happy when he +applauded her efforts, and when in his letters he praised her assiduity +and her progress. + +But evidently these letters of the viscount contained nothing of that +love and ardor which the young fiery creole longed for from her +husband; they were not the utterances of a young, anxious lover, of an +enthusiastic, worshipping husband; but they were addressed to Josephine +with the quiet, cool benignity of a considerate friend, of a mentor, of +a tutor who knows full well how much above his pupil soars his own mind, +and with what supreme deference this pupil must look up to him. + +“I am delighted,” wrote he once--“delighted at your zeal to acquire +knowledge and culture; this zeal, which we must ever cherish, is ever +the source of purest enjoyments, and possesses the glorious advantage, +when we follow its dictates, of never producing any grief. If you +persevere in the resolution you have taken, if you continue to labor +with unabated zeal at your personal improvement, be assured that the +knowledge you will have acquired will exalt you highly above all others; +and whereas science and modesty will be combined in you, you will +succeed in becoming an accomplished woman. The talents which you +cultivate have their pleasant side, and if you devote to them a portion +of the day, you will unite the agreeable to the useful.” [Footnote: +“Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 110.] + +This is what Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted. His wife, through her +knowledge, was to be highly exalted above all others. She was to study +the sciences, and become what is now called a learned woman, but what +was then termed a philosophical woman. + +The ambition of the ardent viscount required that his young wife should +be the rival of his learned, verse-writing aunt, the Baroness Fanny +de Beauharnais; that Josephine, if not the most beautiful and most +intellectual woman of Paris, should be the most accomplished. + +But these extravagant expectations did not, unfortunately, coincide +entirely with the tastes and mental tendencies of Josephine. No one was +less qualified than she to be a philosophical woman, and to make the +sciences a serious study. It was far from her ambition to desire to +shine by her knowledge; and the learned and scientific Baroness de +Beauharnais only excited fear and antagonism on account of her stiff and +pretentious pedantry, which seemed to Josephine to have but little in +harmony with a woman’s being. + +Josephine loved the sciences and the arts, but she did not wish to +convert herself into their devoted priestess. She wished merely to adorn +herself with their blossoms, to take delight in their fragrance, and to +rejoice in their beauty. With instinctive sentiment she did not wish to +have the grace and youthful freshness of her womanly appearance marred +by knowledge; her heart longed not for the ambition of being called a +learned woman; she only wished to be a beloved wife. + +But the viscount, instead of recognizing and cherishing the tender and +sacred treasures which reposed in the heart of his young wife, ridiculed +her for her sensitiveness; allowed himself, through displeasure at her +uncultivated mind, to utter unreasonable reproaches, and to act harshly +toward his wife; and her tears were not calculated to conciliate him +or to gain his heart. He treated Josephine with a sort of contemptuous +compassion, with a mocking superiority, and her young, deeply-wounded +soul, intimidated and bleeding, shrank back into itself. Josephine +became taciturn, embarrassed, and mute, in her husband’s presence; she +preferred being silent, rather than by her conversation, which might not +appear intellectual and piquant enough for the viscount, to annoy and +irritate him. + +Confidence and harmony had flown away from the household of the young +couple. From his timid, silent wife, with tears in her eyes and a mute +complaint on her trembling lips, the husband rushed away into the world, +into society, to the boisterous joys of a garrison’s life, or else to +the dangerous, intoxicating amusements which the refined world of the +drawing-rooms offered him. + +Scarcely after a two years’ marriage, the young bridegroom was again the +zephyr of the drawing-room; and, breaking asunder the bonds with which +the marriage and the household had bound him, he fluttered again from +flower to flower, was once more the gallant cavalier of the belles, +forgot duty and wife, to pay his attentions and bring his homage to the +ladies of the court. + +But this neglect which she now experienced from her husband, this +evident preference for other women, suddenly awoke Josephine from her +painful resignation, from her quiet melancholy. The young, patient, +retreating wife was changed at once into an irritated lioness, and, +amid the refinements of the French polish, with all its gilded +accompaniments, uprose the glowing, impassioned, threatening creole. + +Josephine, wounded both in her vanity and in her love--Josephine wished +not and could not bear, as a passive, silent sufferer, the neglect of +her husband; he had insulted her as a woman, and the wrath of a woman +rose within her. She screened not her jealousy from her husband; she +reproached him for preferring other women to his wife, for neglecting +her for the sake of others, and she required that to her alone he should +do homage, that to her alone he should consecrate love and allegiance. +She wept, she complained, when she learned that, whilst she was left +at home unnoticed, he had been here and there in the company of other +women; she allowed herself to be so carried away by jealousy as to make +violent reproaches against her husband. + +But tears and reproaches are not in the least calculated to bring back +to a wife the heart of a husband, and jealousy recalls not a husband’s +love, when that love has unfolded his pinions and flown away. It only +causes the poor butterfly to feel that marriage had tied its wings +with a thread, and that it constantly recalls him away, with the severe +admonitions of duty, from the beautiful flowers toward which he desires +to fly. + +The complaints and reproaches of Josephine, however much they proved her +love, had precisely the contrary effect from what she expected. Through +them she wanted to bring back her husband to her love, but she repelled +him further still; he flew away from her complaints to the merry society +of his friends, male and female, and left Josephine alone at Noisy to +weep over her wretchedness. + +Notwithstanding all this, they were both to be again reunited one to +another in a new bond of love and happiness. On the 3d of September, +1781, Josephine presented to her husband a son, the heir of his name, +and for whom the father had already so long craved. Alexandre came to +Noisy to be present at the birth of his child, and with true, sincere +affection he embraced son and mother, and swore everlasting love and +fidelity to both. + +But circumstances were stronger than the will of this young man of +twenty-two years. The monotonous life of Noisy, the quietude which +prevailed in the house on account of the young mother, could not long +retain captive the fiery young man. He endured this life of solitude, of +watching at the bedside, of listening to the child’s cries, for a whole +week, and then was drawn away with irresistible attraction to Paris; +the father’s tenderness could no longer restrain the glowing ardor, the +impassioned longings for distraction in the young man; and the viscount +left Noisy to lead once more in Paris or with his garrison the free, +unrestrained dissipations of his earlier days. + +Josephine was comfortless. She had hoped the son would retain the +father, but he left her alone, alone with the child, and with all the +torments of her jealousy. + +It is true, he came back now and then to see his son, his little Eugene, +and also to make amends to the young, sick, and suffering mother, by a +few days’ presence, for the many days of absence. + +But Josephine, irritated, jealous, too young, too inexperienced to +reflect, Josephine committed the fault of receiving her husband every +time he came, with reproaches and complaints, and of meeting him +with violent scenes of jealousy and of offended dignity. The viscount +himself, so young, so impassioned, had not the patience to go with +calm indifference through the purgatory of such scenes. His proud heart +rebelled against the chains with which marriage would bind him; he was +angry with this woman who dared reproach him; he was the more vexed +that his conscience told him she was unjust toward him, that he was the +innocent one. He returned her complaints with deriding scorn; he allowed +himself to be carried away by her reproaches to the manifestation of +violent anger; and the tempest of matrimonial discord raged through this +house, which at first seemed to have been built for a temple of peace +and happiness. + +The parents of the young couple saw with deep, heartfelt concern the gap +deepening between them both, and which every day widened more and more, +and as their warnings and wishes now remained fruitless, they resolved +to try if a long absence might not heal the wounds which they both had +inflicted upon their own hearts. At the request of his father and of +Madame de Renaudin, the viscount undertook a long journey to Italy, from +which he returned only after nearly nine months’ absence. + +What the relatives had hoped from this journey seemed to be realized. +The viscount returned home to his Josephine with a penitent, tender +heart; and Josephine, enchanted with his tenderness, with the pliant +loveliness of his whole being--Josephine, with a smile of blessedness +and with happy dreams of the future, rested once more on the bosom of +the man whom, even in her angry moods, she had never ceased to love. + +But after a few months passed in happiness and harmony, the viscount +was once more obliged to separate himself from his wife, to meet his +regiment, which was now in Verdun. Absence soon broke the slender +threads which had bound together the hearts of husband and wife. +Alexandre abandoned himself to his tendencies to dissipation, and +Josephine to her jealousy. During the frequent visits which the viscount +paid to his wife in Noisy, he was received with tears and reproaches, +which always ended in violent scenes of anger and bitterness. + +Such an existence, full of ever-recurring storms and ceaseless discord, +weighed heavily on the hearts of both husband and wife, and made them +long for an issue from this Labyrinth of an unhappy marriage. Yet +neither of them dreamed of a separation; not only their son, the little +Eugene, kept them from such thoughts, but also the new hopes which +Josephine carried in her bosom would have made such thoughts appear +criminal. It was necessary to endeavor to bear life as well as one +could, and not allow one’s self to be too much lacerated by its thorns, +even if there was no further hope of gathering its roses. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, even if he lacked the skill of being a +faithful, devoted husband, was a noble and goodnatured man, whose +generous heart wanted to punish himself alone for the error of this +marriage, which weighed so heavily on husband and wife; and, in order +to procure peace to both, he resolved to become an exile, to tear away +pitilessly the attractive ties which society, friends, and women, had +woven around him. If he could not be a good husband, he might at least +be a good soldier; and, whereas his heart could not adopt the resolution +of devoting itself with exclusive affection to his wife, he resolved +to devote himself entirely to that love to which he had never been +disloyal, the love of fame. His ambitious nature longed for honors +and distinction; his restless, youthful courage craved for action and +battle-fields; and, as no opportunity offered itself on land, Alexandre +de Beauharnais decided to search on the seas for what was denied him on +land. + +The Marquis de Bouille, governor of Martinique, had just arrived in +France, to propose to the government a new expedition against the +British colonies in the Antilles. Already this fearless and enterprising +man, since he had been in Martinique, with the forces at his disposal, +with the help of the young creoles, and supported by the squadrons which +lay in Port Royal, had conquered Dominique, Grenada, St. Vincent, St. +Christophe, Mievres, and Montserrat, and now he contemplated an attack +upon the rich and important island of Jamaica, whose conquest he trusted +would force the English into peace. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted nothing more attractive than to join +this important and daring enterprise of the Marquis de Bouille. With +recommendations from his uncle, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the +viscount hastened to the Marquis de Bouille, begged of him instantly the +privilege of serving under him, and offered his services as adjutant. + +The marquis received with kindness a young man so earnestly recommended, +and gave him the hope of fulfilling his wishes. These hopes were not, +however, realized; and the viscount, no longer able to endure the burden +of uncertainty and of domestic discord, decided to leave France on his +own responsibility, to sail for Martinique, and there to enlist as a +simple volunteer, under the orders of the governor. + +In September, 1782, he left Noisy for Brest, there to embark for +Martinique. At the hour of departure the love, which for so long had +been hidden under the dark cloud of jealousy and discord, awoke in all +its glow and energy in the hearts of the young couple. With streaming +eyes Josephine embraced her husband, and in the most touching tones +entreated him to remain with her, entreated him not to tear the father +away from the son, who already recognized him and stretched his little +hands toward him, nor from the child yet unborn in her bosom. Carried +away by so much intensity of affection, by such a fond, all-pardoning +love, Alexandre was deeply moved; he regretted the past, and the +decision he had taken to leave his wife and his family. All the sweet +emotions of peace, of home, of paternal bliss, of married life, overcame +him in this hour of farewell with, resistless power, and in Josephine’s +arms he wept bitter tears of repentance, of love, of farewell. + +But these tears, no more than his wife’s regrets, could make him waver +in his determination. + +The word of separation had been spoken, and it had to be fulfilled. Amid +the anguish of parting, he felt for himself the necessity of breaking, +by means of a long absence, with the evil practices of the past, and to +make amends for the sad errors of his youth. + +He left his home to win in a distant land the happiness which he had +in vain sought at the side of his wife, of his son, and of his family. +Before the ship upon which he was to embark for his journey weighed +anchor, he took a last farewell of his family in a letter addressed to +Madame de Renaudin. + +“I have,” said he, “received the letter which tells of your good wishes +for the future, and I have read with the deepest interest the assurances +of your attachment. These assurances would still have been more +flattering to me, could they have convinced me that my actual course has +your approbation, and that you estimate rightly my determination, and +the sacrifice I am making. However, I have on my side conscience, which +applauds me for preferring, to the real, actual joys of a quiet +and pleasurable existence, the prospect, even if a remote one, +of preferment, which may secure me a distinguished position and a +distinction which may be of advantage to my children. The greater have +been my sacrifices, the more commendable it is to have made them; and if +chance only favors my determination, then the laurels I will win shall +make ample amends for all troubles and hardships, and shall change all +my anguish into joy!--Be kind enough, I pray you, to embrace for me, +my father, my wife, and Eugene!” [Forward: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice +Josephine,” vol. i, p. 133.] + +It is evident that Alexandre de Beauharnais had gone to Martinique to +win fame and to fight for laurels. But chance favored not his resolves. +He had no sooner landed in Martinique, than the news spread that +negotiations had begun between England and France. M. de Bouille +received strict orders to make no attack on Jamaica; and a few weeks +after, on the 20th of January, 1783, the preliminaries of peace were +signed at Versailles. A few months later, peace was concluded, and all +the conquests made by the Marquis de Bouille were returned to England. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had then come in vain to Martinique. No fame +was to be won--no laurels could be gathered there. + +Unfortunately, however, the viscount found another occupation for his +restless heart, for the vague cravings of his affections. He made the +acquaintance there with a young creole, who had been a widow for the +last six months, and who had returned to Martinique from France to +pass there her year’s mourning. But her heart had no mourning for her +deceased husband; it longed for Paris, it craved for the world and its +joys. She was yet, though a few years older than the viscount, a young +woman; she was beautiful--of that wondrous, enticing beauty peculiar to +the creoles; she was an accomplished mistress in the difficult art +of pleasing, and she formed the design of gaining the heart of the +impulsive Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais. This design was not +undertaken because he seemed worthy of love, but because she wanted to +revenge herself on the family of Tascher de la Pagerie, which family had +been for a long time at enmity with her own, and had given free and +open expression against the too easy manners and light behavior of +the beautiful widow. She wanted to take vengeance for these insults by +seducing from M. de la Pagerie his own son-in-law, and by enjoying the +triumph of having charmed away the husband from his daughter. + +The proverb says, “What woman will, woman can!” and what the beautiful +Madame de Gisard wanted was not so very hard to achieve. All she wished +was to hold complete sway over the heart of a young man who felt heavily +burdened with the fetters of marriage; who, now that the schemes of +ambition had failed, reproached his young wife that she was the cause of +his misfortune; that for her sake he had exiled himself from home, and +sentenced himself to the dulness and loneliness of a village-life in +Martinique. The society of the beautiful Madame de Gisard brought at +least novelty and distraction to this loneliness; she gave occupation +to the heart weary with connubial storms; she excited his fancy and his +desires. + +Madame de Gisard knew how to use all these advantages; she wanted to +triumph over the family of De la Pagerie, she wanted to return to Paris +in the company of a young, handsome, and distinguished lover. + +It was not enough to win the love of the viscount; she had to drive +him into the resolution of separating from his wife, of accusing her of +unfaithfulness and guilt, so as to have the right of casting her away, +in order that she herself might openly occupy her place. Madame de +Gisard had the requisite talent to carry out her plans, and to acquire +full control over the otherwise rebellious and proud heart of the young +man. She first began to lead him into open rupture with his father +and mother-in-law. Through respect for them, the viscount had avoided +appearing in public with Madame de Gisard, and betraying the intimacy +which existed between them. Madame de Gisard ridiculed his bashfulness +and submissive spirit; she considered this servility to the head of +the family as absurd, and she drove the viscount by means of scorn and +sarcasm to open revolt. + +Then, after separating him from his wife’s family, she attacked the wife +herself. With all the cunning and smoothness of a seducing demon, she +encompassed the young man’s heart, and filled it with mistrust against +Josephine. She accused the forsaken one with levity and unfaithfulness; +she filled his heart with jealousy and rancor; she used all the means of +perfidy and calumny of which a woman is capable, and in which she finds +a refuge when her object is to ruin, and she succeeded completely. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was now entirely hers; he was gathering against +Josephine anger and vengeance; and even when he received the news that, +on the 13th of April, 1783, his young wife had given birth to a daughter +at Noisy, his soul was not moved by soft emotions, by milder sentiments +of reconciliation. + +Madame de Gisard had taught him that henceforth he need no more be on +the defensive in reference to the reproaches of Josephine, but that he +now must be the aggressor; that, to justify his own guiltiness, he must +accuse his wife of guilt. She had offered herself as the price of his +reconquered freedom; and the viscount, overcome with love, anger, and +jealousy, was anxious to become worthy of this price. + +He left Martinique and returned to Noisy, not to embrace and bless his +daughter Eugenie Hortense, but to bow down the mother’s head with the +curse of shame. He accused, without listening to any justification, and, +with all the vehemence of misguided passion, he asked for an immediate +separation, an immediate divorce. Vain were the expostulations, the +prayers of his father and of Madame de Renaudin. Vain were the tears, +the assurances of innocence from Josephine. The tears of an injured +woman, the prayers of his sorrowing relatives, were impotent against the +whisperings and the seducing smiles of the beautiful Madame de Gisard, +who had secretly accompanied him to France, and who had now over him an +unconditional sway. + +The viscount brought before Parliament a complaint for separation from +his wife, and based it upon the most improbable and most shameless +accusations. + +Josephine, who, for two years in loneliness and abandonment, had awaited +the return of her husband; Josephine, who had always hoped, through the +voice of her children, to recall her husband to herself, saw herself +suddenly threatened with a new, unexpected tempest. Two years of +suffering were finally to be rewarded by a scandalous process, which +exposed her person to the idle and malicious tongues of the Parisians. + +She had, however, to submit to fate; she had to bow her head to the +storm, and trust for her justification to the mercy of God and to the +justice of the Parliament. During the time of the process she withdrew, +according to custom, into a convent, and for nearly one year hid herself +with her shame and her anguish in the abbey of Pantemont, in the street +Grenelle, St. Germain. However, she was not alone; her aunt, Madame +de Renaudin, accompanied her, and every day came the Marquis de +Beauharnais, her husband’s father, bringing her the children, who, +during the time of the unfortunate process, were to remain at Noisy, +under the guardianship of their grandfather and of a worthy governess. +The members of her husband’s family rivalled each other in their +manifestations of affection to a woman so much injured and so +incriminated, and openly before the world they declared themselves +against the viscount, who, blinded by passion and entirely in the chains +of this ensnaring woman, was justifying the innocency of his wife by +his own indiscreet demeanor--by the public exhibition of his passion +for Madame de Gisard, and thus caused the accusations launched against +Josephine to recoil upon his own head. + +At last, after one year of debates, of careful considerations and +investigations, of receiving evidence, and of hearing witnesses, the +Parliament pronounced its decision. + +Josephine was declared absolutely innocent of the crimes brought against +her, and was entirely acquitted of the accusation of unfaithfulness. The +Parliament pronounced the solemn decree: The accusation directed against +the Viscountess de Beauharnais was simply a malicious calumny. The +innocency of the accused wife was evident, and consequently the Viscount +de Beauharnais was bound to receive again his wife into his house. +However, the viscountess was permitted and allowed not to share the same +residence with her husband, and to separate herself from him. In this +case the viscount was condemned to pay to his wife an annual pension of +ten thousand francs, and to leave with her mother his daughter Eugenie +Hortense, while he, the father, should provide for the education of the +son. + +Exonerated from the disgraceful imputation of faithlessness, Josephine +was again free to leave the convent and return to the life of the world. +It was her husband’s family which now prepared for the poor young +woman the most beautiful and most touching triumph. The father of her, +accuser, the Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his elder son and wife, +the Duke and Duchess de la Rochefoucauld, and the Baroness Fanny de +Beauharnais, came in their state carriages to the abbey to receive +Josephine and lead her back to Paris. They had been joined by a great +number of the most respectable and most noble ladies of the Parisian +aristocracy, all in their state carriages, and in the splendor of their +armorial trappings and liveries, as if it were to accompany a queen +returning home. + +Josephine shed tears of blessed joy when quitting her small, sombre +rooms in the abbey. She entered into the reception-room to bid farewell +to the prioress, and there met all these friends and relatives, who +saluted her with looks of deepest tenderness and sympathy, and embraced +her in their arms as one found again, as one long desired. This hour of +triumph indemnified her for the sorrows and sufferings of the unhappy +year which the poor wife of scarcely twenty years of age, and fleeing +from calumny and hatred, liar! sighed away in the desolate and lonesome +convent. She was free, she was justified; the disgrace was removed from +her head; she was again authorized to be the mother of her children; she +saw herself surrounded by loving parents, by true friends, and yet in +her heart there was a sting. Notwithstanding his cruelty, his harshness, +though he had abandoned and despised her, her heart could not be forced +into hating the husband for whom she had so much wept and suffered. +Her tears had impressed his image yet deeper in her heart. He was +the husband of her first love, the father of her children; how could +Josephine have hated him, how could her heart, so soft and true, cherish +animosity against him? + +At the side of her husband’s father, and holding her daughter in +her arms, Josephine entered Paris. Behind them came a long train of +brilliant equipages, of relatives and friends. The passers-by stopped to +see the brilliant procession move before them, and to ask what it meant. +Some had recognized the viscountess, and they told to others of the +sufferings and of the acquittal of the poor young woman; and the people, +easily affected and sympathizing, rejoiced in the decision of the +Parliament, and with shouts and applause followed the carriage of the +young wife. + +The marquis, her father-in-law, turned smilingly to Josephine. + +“Do you see, my daughter,” said he, “what a triumph you enjoy, and how +much you are beloved and recognized?” + +Josephine bent down toward the little Hortense and kissed her. + +“Ah,” said she, in a low voice, “we are returning home, but the father +of my children will not bid us welcome. For a pressure of his hand, +for a kind word from him, I would gladly give the lofty triumph of this +hour.” + +No, Alexandre de Beauharnais did not bid welcome to Josephine in his +father’s house, which they had occupied together. Ashamed and irritated, +he had sped away from Paris, and returned to his regiment at Verdun. + +On the arm of the Marquis de Beauharnais, Josephine traversed the +apartments in which she had lived with her husband, and which she now +saw again as a widow, whom not death but life had separated from her +husband. Her father-in-law saw the tears standing in her eyes, and, +with the refined sympathy of a sensitive mind, he understood the painful +thoughts which agitated the soul of the young wife. + +He fondly folded her in his arms, and laid his blessing hand on the head +of the little Hortense. + +“I have lost my son Alexandre,” said he, “but I have found in his stead +a daughter. Yes, Josephine, you are and will remain my daughter, and to +you and to your children I will be a true father. My son has parted from +us, but we remain together in harmony and love, and as long as I live my +daughter Josephine will never want a protector.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. TRIANON AND MARIE ANTOINETTE. + + +Whilst the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais, the empress of the +future, was living in enforced widowhood, the life of Marie Antoinette, +the queen of the present, resembled a serene, golden, sunny dream; her +countenance, beaming with youth, beauty, and grace, had never yet been +darkened with a cloud; her large blue eyes had not yet been dimmed with +tears. + +In Fontainebleau, whither Josephine had retired with her father-in-law, +who through unfortunate events had lost the greatest part of his +fortune--in Fontainebleau lived the future Empress of France in sad +monotony; in Versailles, in Trianon, lived the present Queen of France +in the dazzling splendor of her glory, of her youth, and of her beauty. +In Trianon--this first gift of love from the king to his wife--the Queen +of France dreamed life away in a pleasant idyl, in a joyous pastoral +amusement; there, she tried to forget that she was queen, that is to +say, that she was the slave of etiquette; there she tried to indemnify +herself for the tediousness, the emptiness, the heartlessness of the +great festivals in the Tuileries and in Versailles. + +In Trianon, Marie Antoinette desired to be the domestic wife, the +pleasant, youthful woman, as in the Tuileries and at Versailles she was +the proud and lofty queen. Marie Antoinette felt her days obscured by +the splendors of royalty; the crown weighed heavily on her beautiful +head, which seemed made for a crown of myrtle and roses; life’s +earnestness had not yet cast its breath on those rosy cheeks and robbed +of youth’s charm the smile on those crimson lips. + +And why should not Marie Antoinette have smiled and been joyous? Every +thing shone round about her; every thing seemed to promise an enduring +harvest of felicity, for the surface of France was calm and bright, and +the queen’s vision had not yet been made keen enough by experience to +penetrate below this shining surface and see the precipices already +hidden underneath. + +These precipices were yet covered with flowers, and the skies floating +above them seemed yet cloudless. The French people appeared to retain +yet for the royal family that enthusiastic devotedness which they had +manifested for centuries; they fondly proclaimed to the queen, whenever +she appeared, their affection, their admiration; they were not weary +with the expressions of their rapture and their worship, and Marie +Antoinette was not weary of listening to these jubilant manifestations +with which she was received in the theatre, on the streets, in the +gardens of the Tuileries, on the terraces of Versailles; she was not +weary of returning thanks with a friendly nod or with a gracious smile. + +All the Parisians seemed still to be, as once, at the arrival of the +Dauphin, they had been called by the Baron de Vesenval, “the queen’s +lovers,” and also to rival one another in manifesting their allegiance. + +Even the fish-women of Paris shared the general enthusiasm; and when, +in 1781, the queen had given to her husband a son, and to his people +a future monarch, the ladies of “the Halls” were amongst the most +enthusiastic friends of the queen. They even came to Versailles to +congratulate the royal couple on the dauphin’s birth, to salute the +young dauphin as the heir to the crown of France, and to sing under the +window of the king some songs, one of which so pleased the king that +oftentimes afterward, in his quiet and happy hours, he used to sing +a verse of it with a smile on his lip. This Terse, which even Marie +Antoinette sang, ran thus: + + “Ne craignez pas, cher papa, + D’ voir augmenter vot’ famille, + Le bon Dieu z’y pourvoira: + Faits-en taut qu’ Versailles en fourmille; + Yeut-il cent Bourbons cheu nos + Ya du pain, du laurier pour tous.” + +[Footnote: Madaine ile Carapan, “Histoire de Marie Antoinette,” vol. i., +p. 218.] + +In Trianon, Marie Antoinette passed her happiest hours and days; there, +the queen changed herself into a shepherdess; there, vanished from her +the empty splendors of purple and ermine, of etiquette and ceremonial; +there, she enjoyed life in its purity, in its innocency, in its +naturalness; such was the ideal Marie Antoinette wished to realize in +Trianon. + +A simple dress of white muslin, a light kerchief of gauze, a straw hat +with a gayly-colored ribbon, such was the attire of the queen and of the +princesses whom Marie Antoinette invited. For the only etiquette which +prevailed at Trianon was this: that no one from the court, even princes +or princesses, should come to Trianon without having received an +invitation from the queen to that effect. Even the king submitted to +this ceremonial, and had expressly promised his consort never to come to +Trianon without an invitation, and, so as to please the queen, no sooner +did she announce her intention of retiring to her country-residence, +than he was always the first who hastened to obtain the favor of an +invitation. + +In Trianon, Louis ceased to be king as well as Marie Antoinette ceased +to be queen. There Louis XVI. was but the farmer of the lady of the +castle; the Count d’Artois was the miller, and the learned Count de +Provence, the schoolmaster. For each of them had been erected in +the gardens of Trianon a separate house suited to their respective +avocations. + +The farmer Louis had his farm-house built in Swiss style, with a balcony +of finely-carved wood at the gable-end, and with stalls attached to the +house, and where bellowed the stately red cows of Switzerland; behind +the house was a small garden in which the variegated convolvulus and the +daisy shed their fragrance. + +The Count d’Artois had, near the stream which flowed through the park, +his miller’s house, with an enormous wheel, made of wooden spokes joined +together, and which moved lustily in the water, and adorned the clear +brook with wavelets of foam. + +The Count de Provence had, under the shadow of a mulberry-tree, +his house, with a large school-room in it; and oftentimes the whole +court-society were converted into scholars of both sexes, who took their +seats on the benches of the school-room, whilst the Count de Provence, +in a long coat with lead buttons and with an immense rod in his hand, +ascended the cathedra and delivered to his school-children a humorous +and piquant lecture, all sparkling with wit. + +The princesses also had in this “grove of Paradise,” as Marie Antoinette +called the woods of Trianon, their cottages, where they milked cows, +made butter, and searched for eggs in the hens’ nests. In the midst of +all these cottages and Swiss houses stood the cottage of the farming +Marie Antoinette; it was the finest and the most beautiful one of all, +adorned with vases full of fragrant blossoms and surrounded by flowering +plants and by cozy bowers of verdure. This cottage was the highest +delight of the queen’s life, the enchanting toy of her happiness. Even +the little castle of Trianon, however simple and modest, seemed too +splendid for the taste of the pastoral queen. For in Trianon one +was always reminded that the lady of this castle was a queen; there, +servants were in livery; there, officials and names and titles were to +be found, even when etiquette was forbidden entrance into the halls of +the little castle of Trianon. Marie Antoinette was no more queen there, +it is true, but she was the lady of the palace to whom the highest +respect was shown, and who therefore had been constrained expressly and +strictly to order that at her entrance into the drawing-rooms the ladies +would not interrupt the piece begun on the piano, nor stand up if seated +at their embroidery, and that the gentlemen would keep on undisturbed +their billiard-party or their game at trictrac. + +But in her cottage all rank disappeared; there, was no distinction; +there, ceased the glory of name and title, and no sooner was the castle +abandoned for the cottages than each named the other with some Arcadic, +pastoral appellation, and each busied himself with his rural avocations. +How lustily the laughter, how merrily the song sounded from these +cottages amid these bowers and groves; how the countenance of the +farming-lady was lighted up with happiness and joy; with what delight +rested upon her the eye of the farmer Louis, who in his blue blouse, +with a straw hat on his head, with a rosy, fleshy, good-natured face, +was exactly fitted for his part, and who found it no difficult task to +hide under the farmer’s garment the purple of the king! + +How often was Marie Antoinette seen in her simple white dress, her +glowing countenance shaded by a straw hat, bounding through the garden +as light as a gazelle, and going from the barn to the milk-room, +followed by the company she had invited to drink of her milk and eat of +her fresh eggs! How often, when the farmer Louis had secreted himself +in a grove for the sake of reading, how often was he discovered there by +the queen, torn away from his book and drawn to a dejeuner on the +grass! When that was over, and Louis had gone back to his book, Marie +Antoinette hastened to her cows to see them milked, or she went into the +rocking-boat to fish, or else reposed on the lawn, busy as a peasant, +with her spindle. + +But this quiet occupation detained not long the lively, spirited +farming-lady; with a loud voice, she called to her maids or companions +from the cottages, and then began those merry, unrestrained amusements +which the queen had introduced into society, and which since then have +been introduced not only into the drawing-rooms of the upper classes, +but also into the more austere circles of the wealthy burghers. + +Then the queen with her court played at blindman’s bluff, at pampam, +or at a game invented by the Duke de Chartres, the future Duke Philippe +d’Orleans, Egalite, and which game was called “descamper,” a sort of +hide-and-seek amusement, in which the ladies hid themselves in the shady +bushes and groves, to be there discovered by the gentlemen, and then +to endeavor by flight to save themselves, for if once caught and seized +they had to purchase their liberty with a kiss. + +When evening came all left the cottages for the little castle, and +the pastoral recreations gave way to the higher enjoyments of refined +society. Marie Antoinette was not in the castle of Trianon queen again, +but she was not either the simple lady of the farm, she was the lady of +the castle, and--the first amateur in the theatrical company which twice +a week exhibited their pieces in the theatre of Trianon. + +These theatrical performances were quite as much the queen’s delight as +her pastoral occupations in her farm cottages, and Marie Antoinette +was unwearied in learning and studying her parts. She had chosen for +teachers two pensioned actors, Caillot and Dazincourt, who had to come +every day to Trianon to teach to the noble group of actors the +small operas, vaudevilles, and dramas, which had been chosen for +representation, and in which the queen naturally always played the +part of first amateur, while the princesses, the wives of the Counts de +Provence and Artois, the two Countesses de Polignac, undertook the other +parts, even those of gentlemen, when the two brothers of the king, the +only male members of this theatrical company, could not assume all the +gentlemen’s parts. + +At first the audience at these representations was very limited. Only +the king, the princes and the princesses of the royal household, not +engaged in the performance, constituted the audience; but afterward it +was found that to encourage the actors a little, a larger audience +was needed; then the boxes were filled with the governesses of the +princesses, the queen’s waiting-women, whose sisters and daughters with +a few other select ladies had been invited. + +It was natural that those who had been thus preferred, and who enjoyed +the privilege of seeing the Queen of France, the princes and princesses, +appear as actors, should be full of admiration and applause at the +talents displayed by the royal troupe; and as they alone formed the +select audience, whose presence had for object to animate the artistes, +they had also assumed the duty to excite and to vitalise the zeal +and the fire of the players by their enthusiasm and by their liberal +praises. + +This applause of a grateful public blinded the royal actors as to their +real merits, and excited in them the ambition to exhibit their artistic +talents before a larger audience and to be admired. Consequently, the +queen granted to the officers of the lifeguard and to the masters of the +king’s stalls and to their brothers, admittance into the theatre; the +gentlemen and ladies of the court had seats in the gilt boxes; a larger +number of ladies were invited, and soon from all sides came requests for +tickets of admission to the theatrical performances in the Trianon. + +The same privileges which had been allowed to a few could not be, and +it was not desirable that they should be, granted to all; those who were +purposely refused revenged themselves of this refusal by an unsparing +criticism on the performers and by bitter sarcasm at the Queen of +France, who so far forgot her dignity as to play comedies before her +subjects, and who played her part not always in such a manner as to give +to a sharp criticism no reason for blame. + +The queen possessed, it is true, the desire, but not the ability, to be +an actress or a songstress. When she played the part of a comedian, no +one felt tempted to laugh; but contrariwise it might often happen that, +when her part was tragical, impressive and touching even to tears, the +faces of her auditors brightened with involuntary laughter. + +Once even it happened that a person from the audience, when the queen +had not yet left the stage, cried aloud, and perhaps with the intention +of being heard by her: “One must confess that royal acting is bad +acting!” + +Though she understood the words, yet the smile on her lips vanished not +away; and as the Countess Diana de Polignac wished to persuade her to +allow the impertinent one who had spoken these words, to be sought out +and punished, the queen, shrugging her shoulders answered: “My friend, I +say as Madame de Maintenon: ‘I am upon the stage, and must therefore be +willing to be applauded or hissed.’” + +Yes, she had to endure the applause or the hissing. Unfortunately, the +number of those who hissed grew every day. The queen had provoked public +expression since she bade it defiance. On the day she banished etiquette +from its watchful duty at the apartments of the Queen of France, the +public expression with its train of slanders and maliciousness entered +in through the open portals. The queen was blamed for her theatricals as +well as for her simple, unadorned toilet, yet she was imitated in these +two things, as even before the costly and luxurious toilet, the high +head-gears of the queen, and also blindman’s buff and descamper, had +been imitated. Every woman now wanted such a simple negligee, such a +headdress, such a feather as Marie Antoinette. As once before, Madame +Bertin, the celebrated milliner of the queen, had been circumvented to +furnish a pattern of the queen’s coiffure, so now all the ladies rushed +upon her in flocks to procure the small caps, fichus, and mantelets, +after the queen’s model. The robes with long trains, the court-dresses +of heavy silk, jewels and gold ornaments, were on a sudden despised; +every thing which could add brilliancy and dignity to the toilet was +banished, the greatest simplicity and nonchalance were now the fashion; +every lady strove, if possible, to resemble a shepherdess of Watteau, +and it was soon impossible to distinguish a duchess from an actress. + +Not only the ladies but also the gentlemen were carried away by this +flood of novelty. They gave up the boots with red heels, the embroidered +garments, as already before they had given up laces, bandelets, gold +fringes, and diamond buttons on the hats; they put on simple coats of +cloth as the burgher and the man of the people wore; they abandoned +their equipages, with their brilliant armorial trappings and the golden +liveries, and found satisfaction in promenading the streets, with cane +in hand, and with boots instead of buckled shoes. + +It is true these street promenadings of the nobility were not oftentimes +without inconvenience and molestation. As without the insignia of their +rank and position they mixed with the society of the streets, entered +into taverns and cafes, the people took them for what they seemed to be, +for their equals, and instead of respectfully making way for them, +the people claimed as much attention from them as they themselves were +willing to give. Often enough disputes and scuffles took place between +the disguised nobleman and the man of the people, the laborer, or the +commissionnaire, and at such experiments of hand to hand the victory was +not to the nobleman, but to the fist of the man, of the people. + +The novelty of such scenes excited the fastidious aristocracy; it became +a sort of passion to mix with the people, to frequent the cabarets, to +strike some bargain at trade, to be the hero of a fist-fight, even if +it ended by the stout workmen throwing down the aristocrats who had +despised them. To be thrown down was no more considered by the nobility +as a disgrace, and they applauded these affrays as once they had +applauded duelling. + +The aristocracy mixed with the people, adopted their manners and usages, +even much of their mode of thinking, of their democratic opinions, and, +by divesting themselves of their external dignity, of their halo, the +nobility threw down the barrier of separation which stood between them +and the democracy; that respect and esteem which the man of the people +had hitherto maintained toward the nobleman vanished away. + +The principle of equality, which was to have such fatal consequences for +France, arose from the folly of the aristocracy; and Marie Antoinette +was the one who, with her taste for simplicity, with her opposition to +etiquette and ceremony, had called this principle into life. + +Not only was the queen imitated in her simplicity, she was also imitated +in her love of comedy. These theatrical amusements of the queen were +a subject of reproach, and yet these private recreations of Marie +Antoinette were the fashion of the day. The taste for theatrical +representations made its way into all classes of society; soon there was +no nobleman, no banker, not even a respectable, well-to-do merchant, +who had not in his house a small theatre, and who, with his family and +friends, endeavored not to emulate on his own narrow stage the manners +of the celebrated actors. + +Before these days, a nobleman would have considered himself insulted and +dishonored if he had been supposed to have become a comedian, or even +to have assumed a comedian’s garb, were it but in the home-circle. The +queen by her example had now destroyed this prepossession, and it was +now so much bon ton to act a comedy that even men of gravity, even the +first magistrate of Paris, could so much forget the dignity of position +as to commit to memory and even to act some of the parts of a buffoon. +[Footnote: Montjoie, “Histoire de Marie Antoinette, Reine de France.”] + +It was also soon considered to be highly fashionable to set one’s self +against the prejudice which had been hitherto fostered against +actors; and, whereas the queen took lessons in singing from Garat, the +opera-singer, and even sang duets with her, she threw down the wall of +partition which had hitherto separated the artistes of the stage from +good society. + +Unfortunate queen, who, with the best qualities of the heart, was +preparing her own ruin; who understood not that the freedom and license +which she herself granted, would soon throw on the roof of the Tuileries +the firebrand which reduced to dust and ashes the throne of the +Bourbons!--unfortunate queen, who in her modesty would so gladly forget +her exaltation and her majesty, and who thereby taught her subjects to +make light of majesty and to despise the throne! + +She saw not yet the abyss opening under her feet; the flowers of Trianon +hid it from her view! She heard not the distant mutterings of the public +mind, which, like the raging wave of the storm, swelled up nearer and +nearer the throne to crush it one day under the howling thunders of the +unshackled elements of the unloosed rage of the people! + +The skies, arching over the fragrant blossoms of the charming Trianon, +and over the cottages of the farming queen, were yet serene and +cloudless, and the voice of public opinion was yet drowned in the joyous +laughter which echoed from the cottages of Trianon, or in the sweet +harmonies which waved in the concert-hall, when the queen, with Garat, +or with the Baron de Vaudreuil, the most welcome favorite of the ladies, +and the most accomplished courtier of his day, sang her duets. + +Repose and peace prevailed yet in Trianon, and the loyal subjects of the +King of France made their pilgrimages to Trianon, there to admire the +idyls of the queen and to watch for the favorable opportunity of espying +the queen, Marie Antoinette, in her rustic costume, with a basket of +eggs on her arm, or the spindle in hand, and to be greeted by her with +a salutation, a friendly word. For Marie Antoinette in Trianon was only +the lady of the mansion, or the farming-lady--so much so, that she had +allowed the very last duties of etiquette, which separated the subject +from the queen, to be abandoned, that even when with her gay company she +was in Trianon, the gates of the park and of the castle were not closed +to visitors, but were opened to any one who had secured from the keeper +a card of admission; the benefit arising from these cards was applied by +order of the queen to the relief of the poor of Versailles. It is true, +one condition of small importance was attached, “by order of the queen,” + to the obtaining of such a card. It was necessary to belong to the +nobility, or to the higher magistracy, so as to be entitled to purchase +a card of admission into the Trianon, and this sole insignificant +condition contained the germ of much evil and of bitter hatred. The +merchant, the spicier, was conscious of a bitter insult in this order, +which banished him from Trianon, which made it impossible for him to +satisfy his curiosity, and to see the queen as a shepherdess, and the +king as a farmer. This order only whetted more and more the hatred and +the contempt for the preferred classes, for the aristocrats, and turned +the most important class of the population, the burgesses, into enemies +of the queen. For it was the queen who had given this order which kept +away from Trianon the tradesmen; it was the queen alone who ruled in +Trianon: and, to vent vengeance on the queen’s order, she was blamed +for assuming a right belonging only to the King of France. Only he, the +king, was entitled to give laws to France, only he could set on the very +front of the law this seal: “DE PAR LE ROI.” + +And now the queen wanted to assume this privilege. In the castles of +pleasure presented by the king to the queen, in Trianon as well as in +St. Cloud, was seen at the entrance of the gardens a tablet, containing +the regulations under which admission was granted to the public, and +these two tablets began with the formula, “DE PAR LA HEINE!” This +unfortunate expression excited the ill-will and the anger of all France; +every one felt himself injured, every one was satisfied to see therein +an attack on the integrity of the monarchy, on the sovereignty of the +king. + +“It is no more the king alone who enacts laws,” they said, “but the +queen also assumes this right; she makes use of the formalities of the +state, she issues laws without the approbation of the Parliament. The +queen wants to place our king aside and despoil us of our rights, so as +to take the king’s place!” + +And these complaints, these reproaches became so vehement, so loud, that +their echoes resounded in the chambers of the king, so that even one of +the ministers could make observations to the king on that subject, and +say: “It is certainly immoral and impolitic for a queen of France to own +castles for her own private use” [Footnote: Campan, “Memoires,” vol. i., +p. 274.] + +The good Louis therefore ventured to speak to his consort on this +subject, and to ask of her to remove this expression which gave so much +offence, and which had so violently excited the public sentiment. + +But the pure heart of Marie Antoinette rebelled against such a +supposition; her pride was stirred up that she, a queen, the daughter of +the Caesars, should make concession to public opinion; that she should +submit to this imaginary and invisible power, which dared despise her as +a queen, which she recognized not and would not recognize! + +This power, the public opinion, stood yet behind Marie Antoinette as an +invisible, an unobserved phantom, which soon was to be transformed into +a cruel monster, whose giant hand would pitilessly crush the happiness +and the peace of the queen. + +The prayers and expostulations of the king were in vain. Marie +Antoinette would not bow to the public sentiment; she would not depart +from her regulations, she would not strike off her “De par la reine” for +the sake of “De par le peuple” + +“My name is there in its right place,” said she, with a countenance +beaming with resolution and pride; “these gardens and castles are my +property, and I can very well issue orders in them, without interfering +with state rights.” + +And the “De par la reine” remained on the regulation-tablets in Trianon +as well as in St. Cloud; and the people, who, through birth or through +official position, were not entitled to enter Trianon, came thither at +least to read the tablets of rules at the gate of entrance, and to +fill up their hearts with scorn and contempt, and to utter loud curses +against this presumptuous and daring “De par la reine.” + +And this woman, whose pride and imperiousness kept away and scorned away +the burgesses from the gates of Trianon, came to Trianon there to rest +from the unbending majesty of her sovereignty, and she herself used to +say to her ladies, with her own enchanting smile, “To forget that she +was queen.” + +The numberless fairy-tales related about the enchanted castle of the +queen had found their way to Fontainebleau, and had been re-echoed in +the quiet, lonely house where lived the Marquis de Beauharnais and +his family. The marquis, always extremely attentive to procure for his +beloved daughter-in-law some distraction and some recreation, proposed +to Josephine to visit this Trianon, which furnished so much material +for admiration and slander, and to make thither with a few friends a +pleasure excursion. + +Josephine gladly accepted the invitation; she longed for diversion and +society. Her young, glowing heart had been healed and strengthened after +the deep wound which the ever-beloved husband had inflicted; she had +submitted to her fate; she was a divorced woman, but Parliament had by +its judgment kept her honor free from every shadow; public opinion had +pronounced itself in her favor; the love of her parents, of the father +of him who had so shamefully accused her, so cruelly deserted her, +endeavored to make compensation for what she had lost. Josephine could +not trouble, with her sorrows, with her sad longings of soul, those who +so much busied themselves in cheering her up. She had, therefore, so +mastered herself as to appear content, as to dry here tears; and her +youth, the freshness and elasticity of her mind, had come to the help +of her efforts. She had at first smiled through effort, she soon did +it from the force of youthful pleasure; she had at first repressed her +tears by the power of her will, soon her tears were dried up and her +eyes irradiated again the fire of youth and hope, of the hope once +more to win her husband’s heart, to return her two graceful and beloved +children to their father, whom their youth needed, for whom every +evening she raised to the God of love the prayers which their mother +with low, trembling voice and tears in her eyes made them say after her. + +Josephine, then, in company with her aunt Madame de Renaudin and +with her father-in-law the Marquis de Beauharnais, undertook this +pleasure-excursion to Trianon. The sight of these glorious parks, these +gardens so artistically laid out, charmed her and filled her with the +sweet reminiscences of the loved home, of the beautiful gardens in +Martinique, which she herself with her slaves had cultivated, in which +she had planted those beautiful flowers whose liveliness of color and +whose fragrance of blossom were here in hot-houses so much praised. The +love of plants and flowers had ever remained fresh amid the storms +and sorrows which in the last years had passed over her heart, and +oftentimes she had sought in the study of botany forgetfulness and +refreshment. With a vivacity and a joyfulness such as had not been seen +in her for a long time, Josephine wandered about this beautiful park, +these hot-houses and gardens, and, transported with joy and admiration, +she exclaimed: “Oh, how happy must the queen be to call this paradise +her own!” + +The sound of approaching voices interrupted her in her observations and +in her admiration, which, perchance, was not entirely free from envy. +Through the foliage of the trees was seen a large company approaching +the queen’s farm-house, before which stood Josephine with her escort. At +the curve of the path near the grove where Josephine stood, appeared +a woman. A white muslin dress, not expanded by the stiff, ceremonious +hoop-petticoat, but falling down in ample folds, wrapped up her tall, +noble figure, a small lace kerchief covered the beautiful neck, and +in part the splendid shoulders. The deep-blond unpowdered hair hung +in heavy, curly locks on either side of the rosy cheeks; the head was +covered with a large, round straw hat, adorned with long, streaming silk +ribbons; on the arm, partly covered with a black knit glove, hung an +ornamented woven basket, which was completely filled with eggs. + +“The queen!” murmured Josephine, trembling within herself, and, +frightened at this unexpected meeting, she wanted to withdraw behind the +grove, in the hope of being unnoticed by the farmer’s wife passing by. + +But Marie Antoinette had already seen her, and on her beautiful, smiling +countenance was not for a moment expressed either surprise or concern at +this unexpected meeting with uninvited strangers. She was so accustomed +to see curiosity-seekers in her lovely Trianon, and to meet them, +disturbed not in the least her unaffected serenity. A moment only she +stood still, to allow her followers, the Duchesses de Polignac, the +Princess de Lamballe, and the two Counts de Coigny, to draw near; then +lightly and smilingly she walked toward the house near which Josephine +bewildered and blushing stood, whilst the marquis bowed profoundly and +reverentially. + +The queen, who was about to pass by and enter into the house, stood +still. Her large dark-blue eye was for a moment fixed with questioning +expression upon Josephine, then a smile illumined her beautiful +countenance. She had recognized the Viscountess de Beauharnais, though +she had seen her only twice. Although, through her husband’s rank and +station, Josephine was entitled to appear at court, yet she had always, +with all the retreating anxiety of inexperienced youth, endeavored to +evade the solemnity of an official presentation. The young, lively, +unaffected Creole had cherished an invincible horror for the stiff +court-etiquette, for the ceremonial court-dress of gold brocade, with +the court-mantle strictly embroidered after the established pattern, and +which terminated in a long, heavy train, for the majestic head-gear of +feathers, flowers, laces, and veils, all towering up nearly a yard high, +and, above all things, for those rules and laws which regulated and +fixed every word, every step, every movement, at a solemn presentation +at court. + +Marie Antoinette had had compassion on the timidity of the young +Creole, and to spare her the solemnity of a rigid presentation had twice +received at a private audience the young Viscountess de Beauharnais, and +had then received also her homage. [Footnote: Le Normand, “Histoire de +l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 97.] + +The youthful, charming appearance of Josephine, her peculiar and at +the same time ingenuous and graceful attitude, had not been without +impression on the queen; and with the most sympathizing interest, she +had heard of the sad disturbances which had clouded the matrimonial +happiness of the young Creole. + +No longer, as before, had Marie Antoinette requested the Viscount de +Beauharnais, the beautiful dancer of Versailles, to dance with her; +and when Parliament had given its sentence, and openly and solemnly had +proclaimed the innocency of Josephine, the accused wife, the queen also +had loudly expressed her satisfaction at this judgment, and the Viscount +de Beauharnais was no more invited to the court festivities. + +About to enter into the house, the queen had recognized the young +viscountess, and with a friendly movement of the head she beckoned her +to approach, welcomed the marquis, whom her short-sightedness had not at +once recognized, to her beloved Trianon, and she requested them both +to visit her little kingdom as often as they would wish, and to examine +every thing attentively. + +In the goodness and generosity of her heart, the queen gladly desired +to make amends to the young, timid woman, who, embarrassed and blushing, +stood before her, for the sufferings she had endured, for the disgrace +under which she had had to bow her head; she wanted to give the accused +innocent one a reparation of honor such as Parliament and public +sentiment had already done. + +She was consequently all goodness, all condescension, all confidence; +she spoke to Josephine, not as a queen to her favored subjects, but as +a young woman to a young woman, as to her equal. With sympathetic +friendliness she made inquiries concerning the welfare of the +viscountess and her family; she invited her to come often to Trianon, +and, with a flattering allusion to the vast knowledge of the viscountess +in botany, she asked her if she was satisfied with the arrangements of +garden and hot-houses. + +Josephine, with the sensitiveness and fine tact natural to her, felt +that the trivial flattery of a courtier would but be a wretched and +inappropriate return for so much goodness and loving-kindness; she +felt that frankness and truth were the thanks due to the queen’s +large-heartedness. + +She therefore answered the queen’s questions with impartial sincerity, +and, encouraged by the kindness of the queen, she openly and clearly +gave her opinion concerning the arrangement of the hot-houses, and drew +the attention of the queen to some precious and choice plants which she +had noticed in the hot-houses. + +Marie Antoinette listened to her with lively interest, and at parting +extended to her in a friendly manner her beautiful hand. + +“Come soon again, viscountess,” said she, with that beautiful smile +which ever won her true hearts; “you are worthy to enjoy the beauty +of my beloved Trianon, for you have eyes and sense for the beautiful. +Examine everything closely, and when we see one another again, tell +me what you have observed and what has pleased you. It will ever be a +pleasure to see you.” [Footnote: The very words of the queen.--See Le +Normand, “Histoire,” &c., vol. i., p. 135.] + +But Josephine was no more to see the beautiful queen, so worthy of +compassion; and these kind words which Marie Antoinette had spoken to +her were the last which Josephine was ever to hear from her lips. + +A few days after this visit to Trianon, Josephine received from her +parents in Martinique letters which had for their object to persuade her +with the tenderness of love, with all the reasons of wisdom, to +return to her home, to the house of her parents, to withdraw with +bold resolution from all the inconveniences and humiliations of her +precarious and dangerous situation, and, instead of living in humble +solitude as a divorced, despised woman, sooner to come to Martinique, +and there in her parents’ home be again the beloved and welcomed +daughter. + +Josephine hesitated still. She could not come to the resolution of +abandoning the hope of a reunion with Alexandre de Beauharnais; she +dreamt yet of the happiness of seeing the beloved wanderer return to his +wife, to his children. + +But her aunt and her father-in-law knew better than she that there was +no prospect of such an event; they knew that the viscount was still the +impassioned lover of the beautiful Madame de Gisard; that she held him +too tightly in her web to look for a possibility of his returning to his +legitimate affection. + +If any thing could rouse him from this love-spell, and bring him back to +duty and reason, it would be that sudden, unexpected departure; it would +be the conviction which would necessarily be impressed upon him, +that Josephine desired to be forever separated from him; that she was +conscious of being divorced from him forever, and that, in the pride of +her insulted womanhood, she wished to withdraw herself and her daughter +from his approaches, and from the scandal which his passion for Madame +de Gisard was giving. + +Such were the reasons with which her relatives, even the grandfather +of her two children, sought to persuade her to a voyage to +Martinique--bitter though the anguish would be for them to be deprived +of the presence of the gentle, lovely young woman, whose youthful +freshness and grace had like sunshine cheered the lonely house in +Fontainebleau; to see also part from them the little Hortense, whose +joyous voice of childhood had now and then recalled the faithless son +to the father’s house, and which was still a bond which united Josephine +with her husband and with his family. + +Josephine had to give way before these arguments, however much her heart +bled. She had long felt how much of impropriety and of danger there was +in the situation of a young woman divorced from her husband, and how +much more dignified and expedient it would be for her to return to +her father’s home and to the bosom of her family. She therefore took a +decided resolution; she tore herself away from her relatives, from her +beloved son, whom she could not take with her, for he belonged to the +father. With a stream of painful tears she bade farewell to the love of +youth, to the joys of youth, from which naught remained but the wounds +of a despised heart, and the children who gazed at her with the beloved +eyes of their father. + +In the month of July of the year 1788, Josephine, with her little +five-year-old daughter Hortense, left Fontainebleau, went to Havre, +whence she embarked for Martinique. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. LIEUTENANT NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + + +While the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais was, during long years of +resignation, enduring all the anguish, humiliations, and agonies of an +unhappy marriage, the first pain and sorrow had also clouded the days of +the young Corsican boy who, in the same year as Josephine, had embarked +from his native land for France. + +In the beginning of the year 1785, Napoleon Bonaparte had lost his +father. In Montpellier, whither he had come for the cure of his diseased +breast, he died, away from home, from his Letitia and his children. +Only his eldest son Joseph stood near his dying couch, and, moreover, +a fortunate accident had brought to pass that the poor, lonely sufferer +should meet there a friendly home, where he was received with the most +considerate affection. Letitia’s companion of youth, the beautiful +Panonia Comnene, now Madame de Permont, resided in Montpellier with +her husband, who was settled there, and with all the faithfulness and +friendship of a Corsican, she nursed the sick husband of her Letitia. + +But neither the skill of the renowned physicians of Montpellier, nor the +tender care of friends, nor the tears of the son, could keep alive the +unfortunate Charles de Bonaparte. For three days long he struggled with +death; for three days long his youth, his manhood’s powers, resisted the +mighty foe, which already held him in its chains; then he had to submit +to the conqueror. Exhausted with death’s pallor, Charles de Bonaparte +sank back on his couch, and as Death threw his dark shadows on his +face bathed in cold perspiration, Charles de Bonaparte, with stammering +tongue, in the last paroxysms of fancy, exclaimed: “It is in vain! +Nothing can save me! Even Napoleon’s sword, which one day is to triumph +over all Europe, even that sword cannot frighten away the dragon of +death which crouches on my breast!” [Footnote: See “Memoires du Roi +Joseph,” vol. i., p. 29.] + +Wonderful vision of a dying man! The dimmed eye of the dying father +saw his son Napoleon’s sword, “which one day was to triumph over all +Europe;” as he prophesied its power, he sighed at the same time over the +impotency which holds all mankind in its bands, and leaves even the hero +as a powerless child in the hands of fate. The sword which was to be a +yoke to all Europe could not terrify from the breast of his father the +dragon of death! + +Napoleon received the news of his father’s decease whilst at the +military school of Paris, where he had been placed for the last six +months, to the joy and satisfaction of his teachers as well as to that +of his schoolmates in Brienne. For the reserved, taciturn, proud boy, +who, rugged and blunt, stood aloof from his comrades, who even dared +speak rude and bitter words against his teachers and against the whole +military institution at Brienne, was oftentimes an inconvenience and a +burden as well to teachers as to schoolmates; and all felt relieved, as +from a depressing weight, when they no more feared the naming eyes of +the boy who observed every thing, who criticised every thing, and passed +judgment upon every thing. + +But if he was not loved, it was impossible to refuse esteem to his +capacity, to his desire for learning; and the testimony which Monsieur +de Heralio, the principal of the institution of Brienne, sent with the +young Napoleon to Paris, was a tribute of respect and an acknowledgment +of merit. He portrayed him “as having an extremely capacious head, +especially skilled in mathematics, and of great powers and talents.” As +to his character, one of the professors of the institution had in the +testimonial written the remark: “A Corsican by birth and character. He +will do great things, if circumstances are favorable.” + +But circumstances did not appear favorable, but contrariwise seemed to +bo roused in enmity against the poor Corsican boy. He had been scarcely +half a year in Paris when he lost his father, and this grief, of which +not a murmur escaped, which he kept within, devouring his heart, as +every thing else which affected him, made his existence still more +reserved, still more retired, and isolated him more and more. Moreover, +death had not only taken away the father, but also the support which +Napoleon received from him. The means of the Bonaparte family were very +meagre, and barely sufficed to the support of Signora Letitia and her +seven children. Napoleon could not and dared not require or accept +any help from his mother, on whom and on his brother Joseph it became +incumbent to educate and support the young family. He had to be +satisfied to live upon the bounty which the royal treasury furnished to +the young men at the military school. + +But these limited means were to the ambitious boy a source of +humiliation and pain. The majority of his comrades consisted of young +aristocrats, who, provided with ample means, led a gay, luxurious, +dissipated life, had horses, servants, equipages, kept up one with +another expensive dinner-parties and dejeuners, and seized every +opportunity to organize a festivity or a pleasure-party. Every +departure, every admission of a scholar, was celebrated with brilliant +display; every birthday furnished the opportunity of a feast, and every +holiday became the welcomed occasion for a pleasure excursion which the +young men on horseback, and followed by their servants in livery, made +in the vicinity of Paris. + +Napoleon could take no part in all these feastings and dissipations; and +as his proud heart could not acknowledge his poverty, he put on the mask +of a stoic, who, with contemptuous disregard, cast away vain pleasures +and amusements, and scorned those who with unrestrained zest abandoned +themselves to them. + +He had scarcely been half a year in the military school when he gave +loud expression to his jealousy and envy; the young Napoleon, nearly +sixteen years old, undertook boldly to censure in the very presence of +the teachers the regulations of the institution. In a memorial which +he had composed, and which he presented to the second director of the +establishment, M. Berton, he gave utterance to his own views in the most +energetic and daring manner, imposing upon the professors the duty of +making a complete change in the institution; of limiting the number +of servants, so that the military pupils might learn to wait upon +themselves; of simplifying the noonday meal, so as to accustom them to +moderation; of forbidding banquets, dejeuners, and pleasure-excursions, +so that they might not become inured to a frivolous, extravagant mode of +life. + +This mask of a censuring stoic, which he put on in the presence of +teachers and school-mates, he retained also with his few friends. Madame +de Permont, a short time after the death of Napoleon’s father, came with +her family to Paris, where her husband had obtained an important and +lucrative office; her son Albert attended the military school and was +soon the friend of Napoleon, as much as a friendship could be formed +between the young, lively M. de Permont, the son of wealthy and +distinguished parents, and the reserved, proud Napoleon Bonaparte, the +son of a poor, lonely widow. + +However, Napoleon this time acquiesced in the wishes of his true friend, +and condescended to pass his holidays with Albert in the house of +Madame de Permont, the friend of his mother; and oftentimes his whole +countenance would brighten into a smile, when speaking with her of the +distant home, of the mother, and of the family. But as many times also +that countenance would darken when, gazing round, he tacitly compared +this costly, tastefully decorated mansion with the poor and sparingly +furnished house in which his noble and beautiful mother lived with her +six orphans, and who in her household duties had to wait upon herself; +when again he noticed with what solicitude and love Madame de Permont +had her children educated by masters from the court, by governesses +and by teachers at enormous salaries, whilst her friend Letitia had to +content herself with the very deficient institutions of learning to +be found in Corsica, because her means were not sufficient to bring to +Paris, to the educational establishment of St. Cyr, her young daughters, +like the parents of the beautiful Pauline. + +The young Napoleon hated luxury, because he himself had not the means +of procuring it; he spoke contemptuously of servants, for his position +allowed him not to maintain them; he spoke against the expensive noonday +meal, because he had to be content with less; he scorned the amusements +of his school-mates, because, when they arranged their picnics and +festivities, his purse allowed him not to take a part in them. + +One day in the military school, as one of the teachers was to bid it +farewell, the scholars organized a festivity, toward which each of them +was to contribute a tolerably large sum. It was perhaps not all accident +that precisely on that day M. de Permont, the father of Albert, came to +the military school to visit his son, and Napoleon, his son’s friend. + +He found all the scholars in joyous excitement and motion; his son +Albert was, like the rest, intently busy with the preparations of the +feast, which was to take place in the garden, and to end in a great +display of fireworks. All faces beamed with delight, all eyes were +illumined, and the whole park re-echoed with jubilant cries and joyous +laughter. + +But Napoleon Bonaparte was not among the gay company. M. de Permont +found him in a remote, lonesome path. He was walking up and down +with head bent low, his hands folded behind his back; as he saw M. de +Permont, his face became paler and gloomier, and a look nearly scornful +met the unwelcomed disturber. + +“My young friend,” said M. de Permont, with a friendly smile, “I come to +bring you the small sum which you need to enable you to take a part in +the festivity. Here it is; take it, I pray you.” + +But Napoleon, with a vehement movement of the hand, waved back the +offered money, a burning redness for a moment covered his face, then his +cheeks assumed that yellowish whiteness which in the child had always +indicated a violent emotion. + +“No,” cried he, vehemently, “no, I have nothing to do with this +meaningless festivity. I thank you--I receive no alms.” + +M. de Permont gazed with emotions of sympathizing sorrow in the pale +face of the poor young man for whom poverty was preparing so many +griefs, and in the generosity of his heart he had recourse to a +falsehood. + +“This is no alms I offer you, Napoleon,” said he, gently, “but this +money belongs to you, it comes from your father. At his dying hour he +confided to me a small sum of money, with the express charge to keep it +for you and to give you a portion of it in pressing circumstances, when +your personal honor required it. I therefore bring you to-day the fourth +part of this sum, and retain the rest for another pressing occasion.” + +With a penetrating, searching look. Napoleon gazed into the face of +the speaker, and the slight motions of a sarcastic smile played for an +instant around his thin, compressed lips. + +“Well, then,” said he, after a pause, “since this money comes from my +father, I can use it; but had you simply wished to lend it to me, +I could not have received it. My mother has already too much +responsibility and care; I cannot increase them by an outlay, especially +when such an outlay is imposed upon me by the sheer folly of my +schoolmates.” [Footnote: Napoleon’s words.--See “Memoires de la Duchesse +d’Abrantes,” vol. i., p. 81.] + +He then took the offered sum for which, as he thought, he was indebted +to no man, and hastened to pay his contribution to the festivity. But, +in respect to his principles, he took no part in the festivity, but +declaimed all the louder, and in a more biting tone, against the +criminal propensities for pleasure in the young men who, instead of +turning their attention to their studies, lavished away their precious +time in dissipation and frivolities. + +These anxieties and humiliations of poverty Napoleon had doubly to +endure, not only for himself, but also for his sister Marianne (who +afterward called herself Elise). She had been, as already said, at her +father’s intercession and application, received in the royal educational +institute of St. Cyr, and there enjoyed the solid and brilliant +education of the pupils of the king. But the spirit of luxury and the +desire for pleasure had also penetrated into this institution, founded +by the pious and high-minded Madame de Maintenon, and the young ladies +of St. Cyr had among themselves picnics and festivals, as well as the +young men of the military school. + +Napoleon, whose means, as long as he was in Brienne, never allowed him +to visit his beloved sister at St. Cyr, had now frequent opportunities +of seeing her, for Madame de Permont, in her royal friendship to the +Bonaparte family, took as lively an interest in the daughter as in the +son of her friend Letitia, and often drove to St. Cyr to visit the young +and beautiful Marianne. + +A few days after the festival in the military school, a short vacation +had followed, and Napoleon passed it with his friend Albert in the house +of the family of Permont. To please young Napoleon, it was decided to +go to St. Cyr, and the glowing cheeks and the lively manner with which +Napoleon, during the journey, conversed with M. and Madame de Permont, +proved what satisfaction he anticipated in meeting his sister. + +But Marianne Bonaparte did not seem to share this satisfaction. With +downcast countenance and sad mien she entered the reception-room and +saluted M. and Madame Permont, and even her brother, with a gloomy, +despairing look. As she was questioned about the cause of her sadness, +she broke into tears, and threw herself with vehement emotion into the +arms of Madame de Permont. + +Vain were the prayers and expostulations of her mother’s friend to have +her reveal the cause of her sadness. Marianne only shook her head in a +negative manner, and ever a fresh flow of tears started from her eyes, +but she remained silent. + +Napoleon, who at first, pale and silent, had looked on this outbreak of +sorrow, now excitedly approached his sister, and, laying his hand upon +her arm, said in angry tones: “Since you cry, you must also confess the +cause of your tears, or else we are afraid that you weep over some wrong +of which you are guilty. But woe to you if it is so! I am here in the +name of our father, and I will be without pity!” [Footnote: “Memoires de +la Duehesse d’Abrantes.”] + +Marianne trembled, and cast a timid, anxious look upon her young +brother, whose voice had assumed such a peculiar, imperious +expression--whose eyes shone with the expression of a proud, angry +master. + +“I am in no wise guilty, my brother,” murmured she, “and yet I am sad +and unhappy.” + +And blushing, trembling, with broken words, interrupted by tears and +sighs, Marianne related that next day, a farewell festival was to take +place in the institution in honor of one of the pupils about to leave. +The whole class was taking a part in it, and each of the young ladies +had already paid her contribution. + +“But I only am not able,” exclaimed Marianne, with a loud burst of +anguish, “I have but six francs; if I give them, nothing is left me, and +my pension is not paid until six weeks. But even were I to give all I +have, my miserable six francs would not be enough.” + +Very unwillingly indeed had Napoleon, whilst Marianne thus spoke, +put his hand into his pocket, as if to draw out the money which his +sorrowing sister needed, but remembering his own poverty, his hand +dropped at his side; a deep glow of anger overspread his cheeks, and +wildly stamping down with the foot he turned away and walked to the +window, perhaps to allow none to notice the nervous agitation of his +countenance and his tears of vexation and shame. + +But what Napoleon could not do, that did Madame de Permont. She gave to +the weeping young girl the twelve francs she needed to take a part in +the festivity, and Marianne, less proud and less disdainful than her +brother, accepted gladly, without opposition and without the need of a +falsehood, the little sum offered. + +Napoleon allowed this to take place without contradiction, and hindered +not his sister to receive from Madame de Permont the alms which he +himself had so arrogantly refused. + +But they had barely left the reception-room and entered the carriage, +than his suffering heart burst into a sarcastic philippic against the +contemptible administration of such royal establishments as St. Cyr and +the military school. + +M. de Permont, who had at first patiently and with a smile listened to +these raving invectives, felt himself at last wounded by them; and the +supercilious and presumptuous manner in which the young man of barely +seventeen years spoke of the highest offices of the state, and of the +king himself, excited his anger. + +“Hush, Napoleon!” said he, reluctantly. “It does not beseem you, who are +educated upon the king’s bounty, to speak thus.” + +Napoleon shrank within himself as if he had been bitten by a serpent, +and a deadly pallor overspread his cheeks. + +“I am not the pupil of the king, but of the state!” exclaimed he, in a +boisterous voice, trembling with passion. + +“Ah, that is indeed a fine distinction which you have made there, +Napoleon,” said M. de Permont, laughing. “It is all the same whether you +are the pupil of the state or of the king; moreover, is not the king +the state also? However it may be, it beseems you not to speak of your +benefactor in such inappropriate terms.” + +Napoleon concentrated all his efforts into self-control, and mastered +himself into a grave, quiet countenance. + +“I will be silent,” said he, with an appearance of composure; “I will no +more say what might excite your displeasure. Only allow me to say, +were I master here, had I to decide upon the regulations of these +institutions, I would have them very different, and for the good of +all.” + +“Were I master here!” The pupil of the military school, for whom poverty +was preparing so much humiliation, who had just now experienced a fresh +humiliation through his sister in the reception-room of St. Cyr, was +already thinking what he would do were he the ruler of France; and, +strange enough, these words seemed natural to his lips, and no one +thought of sneering or laughing at him when he thus spoke. + +Meanwhile his harsh and repulsive behavior, his constant fault-finding +and censoriousness were by no means conducive to the friendship and +affection of those around him; he was a burden to all, he was an +inconvenience to all; and the teachers as well as the pupils of the +military school were all anxious to get rid of his presence. + +As nothing else could be said to his reproach; as there was no denying +his assiduity, his capacities, and progress, there was but one means +of removing him from the institution--he had to be promoted. It was +necessary to recognize the young pupil of the military school as +competent to enter into the practical, active military service; it was +necessary to make a lieutenant out of the pupil. + +Scarcely had one year passed since Napoleon had been received into the +military school of Paris, when he was nominated by the authorities of +the school for a vacancy in the rank of lieutenant, and he was promoted +to it in the artillery regiment of La Fere, then stationed at Valence. + +In the year 1786 Napoleon left the military school to serve his country +and his king as second lieutenant, and to take the oath of allegiance. + +Radiant with happiness and joy, proud alike of his promotion and of his +uniform, the young lieutenant went to the house of M. de Permont to show +himself to his friends in his new dignity and in his new splendors, and, +at their invitation, to pass a few days in their house before leaving +for Valence. + +But, alas! his appearance realized not the wished-for result. As he +entered the saloon of Madame de Permont the whole family was gathered +there, and at the sight of Napoleon the two daughters, girls of six and +thirteen years, broke out into loud laughter. None are more alive than +children to the impression of what is ridiculous, and there was indeed +in the appearance of the young lieutenant something which well might +excite the laughing propensities of the lively little maidens. The +uniform appeared much too long and wide for the little meagre figure +of Napoleon, and his slender legs vanished in boots of such height and +breadth that he seemed more to swim than to walk with them. + +These boots especially had excited the laughter of the little maidens; +and at every step which Napoleon, embarrassed as he was by the terrible +cannon-boots, made forward, the laughter only increased, so that the +expostulations and reproaches of Madame de Permont could not procure +silence. + +Napoleon, who had entered the drawing-room with a face radiant with joy, +felt wounded by the children’s joyousness at his own cost. To be the +subject of scorn or sarcasm was then, as it was afterward, entirely +unbearable to him, and when he himself also tried to jest he knew not +how to receive the jests directed at him. After having saluted M. and +Madame de Permont, Napoleon turned to the eldest daughter Cecilia, who, +a few days before, had come from the boarding-school to remain a +short time at home, and who, laughing, had placed herself right before +monsieur the lieutenant. + +“I find your laughter very silly and childish,” said he, eagerly. + +The young maid, however, continued to laugh. + +“M. Lieutenant,” said she, “since you carry such a mighty sword, you +no doubt wish to carry it as a lady’s knight, and therefore you must +consider it an honor when ladies jest with you.” + +Napoleon gave a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. + +“It is evident,” said he, scornfully, “that you are but a little +school-girl.” + +These sarcastic words wounded the vanity of the young maiden, and +brought a glow of anger on her face. + +“Well, yes,” cries she, angrily, “I am a school-girl, but you--you are +nothing else than a puss in boots!” + +A general laugh followed; even Madame de Permont, ordinarily so good +and so considerate, could not suppress laughter. The witty words of the +little school-girl were too keen and too applicable that she should be +subjected to reproach. + +Napoleon’s wrath was indescribable. His visage was overspread with a +yellow-greenish pallor, his lips were contracted nervously, and already +opened for a word of anger. But he suppressed that word with an effort; +for though not yet familiar with all the forms and usages of society, +his fine tact and the instinct of what was becoming told him that when +the conversation ran into personalities the best plan was to be silent, +and that he must not return personal remarks, since his opponent was one +of the fair sex. He therefore remained silent, and so controlled himself +as to join in the general laughter and to show himself heartily amused +at the unfortunate nickname of the little Cecilia. + +And that every one might be convinced how much he himself had been +amused at this little scene, he brought, a few days afterward, to the +youngest daughter of Madame de Permont, a charming little toy which he +had had made purposely for her. This toy consisted of a small gilt and +richly-ornamented carriage of papier-mache, before which leaped along a +very lovely puss in boots. + +To this present for the little Lolotte (afterward Duchess d’Abrantes), +was added for Cecilia an elegant and interesting edition of the tales +of “Puss in Boots,” and when Napoleon politely presented it to the young +maid he begged her to receive kindly this small souvenir from him. + +“That is too much,” said Madame de Permont, shaking her head. “The toy +for Loulou would have been quite enough. But this present to Cecilia +shows that you took her jest in earnest, and were hurt by it.” + +Napoleon, however, affirmed that he had not taken the jest in earnest, +that he had been no wise hurt by it; that he himself when he put on +his uniform had to laugh at the nickname of “puss in boots” which dear +Cecilia had given him. + +He had, however, endeavored no more to deserve this nickname, and the +unlucky boots were replaced by much smaller and closer-fitting ones. + +A few days after this little incident the young second lieutenant left +Paris and went to meet his regiment La Fere at Valence. + +A life of labor and study, of hopes and dreams, now began for the young +lieutenant. He gave himself up entirely to his military service, and +pursued earnest, scientific studies in regard to it. Mathematics, the +science of war, geometry, and finally politics, were the objects of his +zeal; but alongside of these he read and studied earnestly the works of +Voltaire, Corneille, Racine, Montaigne, the Abbe Raynal, and, above all, +the works of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose passionate and enthusiastic +disciple Napoleon Bonaparte was at that time. [Footnote: “Memoires du +Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 33.] + +Amid so many grave occupations of the mind it would seem that the heart +with all its claims had to remain in the background. The smiling boy +Cupid, with his gracious raillery and his smarting griefs, seemed +to make no impression on that pale, grave, and taciturn artillery +lieutenant, and not to dare shoot an arrow toward that bosom which had +mailed itself in an impenetrable cuirass of misanthropy, stoicism, and +learning. + +But yet between the links of this coat-of-mail an arrow must have +glided, for the young lieutenant suddenly became conscious that there +in his bosom a heart did beat, and that it was going in the midst of +his studies to interrupt his dreams of misanthropy. Yes, it had come to +this, that he abandoned his study to pay his court to a young lady, that +at her side he lost his gravity of mien, his gloomy taciturnity, and +became joyous, talkative, and merry, as beseemed a young man of his age. + +The young lady who exercised so powerful an influence upon the young +Bonaparte was the daughter of the commanding officer at Valence, M. de +Colombier. He loved her, but his lips were yet too timid to confess +it, and of what need were words to these young people to understand one +another and to know what the one felt for the other? + +In the morning they took long walks through the beautiful park; they +spoke one to another of their childhood, of their brothers and +sisters, and when the young maid with tears in her eyes listened to the +descriptions which Napoleon made to her of his country, of his father’s +house, and, above all things, of his mother--when she with animation +and enthusiasm declared that Letitia was a heroine greater than whom +antiquity had never seen, then Napoleon would take her two hands in his +and thank her with tremulous voice for the love which she consecrated to +his noble mother. + +If in the morning they had to separate, as an indemnification an evening +walk in the light of the moon was agreed upon, and the young maid +promised heroically to come without uncertainty, however imperative was +her mother’s prohibition. And truly, when her mother was asleep, she +glided down into the park, and Napoleon welcomed her with a happy smile, +and arm in arm, happy as children, they wandered through the paths, +laughing at their own shadows, which the light of the moon in wondrous +distortion made to dance before them. They entered into a small bower, +which stood in the shadow of trees, and there the young Napoleon had +prepared for the young maid a very pleasing surprise. There on the table +was a basket full of her favorite fruit--full of the sweetest, finest +cherries. Louise thanked her young lover with a hand-pressure for the +tender attention, but she declared that she would touch none of the +cherries unless Napoleon enjoyed them with her, and to please his +beloved he had to obey. + +They sat down on the seat before the bower and enjoyed the golden light +of the moon, the night air amid the lime-trees, the joy of being thus +secretly together, and with infinite delight they ate of the sweet juicy +cherries. But when the last cherry was eaten, the moon became darkened, +a rude night breeze shook the trees, and made the young maid tremble +with cold. She must not remain from home any longer, she must not +expose herself to the dangerous night air; thus argued the considerate +tenderness of the young lieutenant, and, kissing her hand, he bade +farewell to Louise, and watched until the tender ethereal figure had +vanished behind the little door which led from the park into the house. +[Footnote: “Memorial de St. Helene,” p. 30.] + +The sweet idyl of his first love had, however, come to a sudden and +unexpected end. The young Second-Lieutenant Bonaparte was ordered to +Lyons with his regiment, and the first innocent romance of his heart was +ended. + +But he never forgot the young maid, whom he then had so tenderly loved, +and in the later days of his grandeur he remembered her, and when he +learned that she had lost her husband, a M. de Bracieux, and lived in +very depressing circumstances, he appointed her maid of honor to his +sister Elise, and secured her a very handsome competency. + +The dream of his first love had been dreamed away; and, perhaps +to forget it, Napoleon again in Lyons gave himself up with deepest +earnestness to study. The Academy of Sciences in Lyons had offered +a prize for the answer to the question: “What are the sentiments and +emotions which are to be instilled into men, so as to make them happy?” + +Napoleon entered the lists for this prize, and, if his work did not +receive the prize, it furnished the occasion for the Abbe Raynal, who +had answered the question successfully, to become acquainted with +the young author, and to encourage him to persevere in his literary +pursuits, for which he had exhibited so much talent. + +Napoleon then, with all the fire of his soul, began a new work, the +history of the revolutions in Corsica; and, in order to make accurate +researches in the archives of Ajaccio, he obtained leave of absence to +go thither. In the year 1788, Napoleon returned to his native isle to +his mother, to his brothers and sisters, all of whom he had not seen for +nine years, and was welcomed by them with the tenderest affection. + +But the joys of the family could draw away the young man but little +from his studies and researches; and, however much he loved his mother, +brothers and sisters, now much grown up, yet he preferred being alone +with his elder brother Joseph, making long walks with him, and in solemn +exchange of thoughts and sentiments, communicating to him his studies, +his hopes, his dreams for the future. + +To acquire distinction, fame, reputation with the actual world, and +immortality with the future--such was the object on which all the +wishes, all the hopes of Napoleon were concentrated; and in long hours +of conversation with Joseph he spoke of the lofty glory to carve out an +immortal name, to accomplish deeds before which admiring posterity would +bow. + +Did Napoleon then think of purchasing for himself an immortal name as +writer, as historian? At least he studied very earnestly the archives of +Ajaccio, and sent a preliminary essay of his history of the revolutions +of Corsica to Raynal for examination. This renowned savant of his day +warmly congratulated the young author on his work, and asked him to send +a copy that he might show it to Mirabeau. + +Napoleon complied with these wishes; and when, a few weeks after, he +received a letter from Raynal, after reading it, he, with radiant eyes +and a bright smile, handed it to his brother Joseph. + +In this letter of Raynal were found these words: “Monsieur de Mirabeau +has in this little essay found traits which announce a genius of the +first rank. He entreats the young author to come to him in Paris.” + [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 33.] + +But the young author could not at once obey the call of the Count de +Mirabeau. A sad family bereavement delayed him at the time in Corsica. +The brother of his grandfather, the aged Archdeacon Lucian, the faithful +counsellor and friend of Letitia and of her young family, was seized +with a mortal disease; the gout, which for years had tormented him, was +now to give him the fatal blow, and the whole family of the Bonapartes +was called to the bedside of the old man to receive his parting words. + +Weeping, they all stood around his couch; weeping, Letitia bent over the +aged man, whose countenance was already signed with the hand of death. +Around kneeled the younger children of Letitia, for their great-uncle +had long been to them a kind father and protector; and on the other +side of the couch, facing Letitia and her brother, the Abbe Fesch, stood +Joseph and Napoleon, gazing with sad looks on their uncle. + +His large, already obscured eyes wandered with a deep, searching glance +upon all the members of the Bonaparte family, and then at last remained +fixed with a wondrous brilliancy of expression on the pale, grave face +of Napoleon. + +At this moment, the Abbe Fesch, with a voice trembling with emotion and +full of holy zeal, began to intone the prayers for the dead. But the old +priest ordered him with a voice full of impatience to be silent. + +“I have prayed long enough in my life,” said he; “I have now but a few +moments to live, and I must give them to my family.” + +The loud sobbings of Letitia and of her children interrupted him, and +called forth a last genial smile upon the already stiffening features. + +“Letitia,” said he, in a loud, friendly tone, “Letitia, cease to shed +tears; I die happy, for I see you surrounded by all your children. My +life is no longer necessary to the children of my dear Charles; I +can therefore die. Joseph is at the head of the administration of +the country, and he will know how to take care of what belongs to his +family. You, Napoleon,” continued he, with a louder voice, “you will be +a great and exalted man.” [Footnote: “Tu poi. Napoleon, serai unomone” + such were the words of the dying man, assures us King Joseph in his +memoirs; whilst Las Casas, in his memorial of St. Helena, makes Napoleon +relate that his uncle had told him, “You, Napoleon, will be the head of +the family.”] + +His eyes turned on Napoleon, he sank back on the cushions, and his dying +lips murmured yet once more, “Tu serai unomone!” + +After the body of the worthy great-uncle had been laid in the grave, +Napoleon left Corsica to return to France and to his regiment, for the +time of his leave of absence had expired. + +For the second time the lips of a dying man had prophesied him a great +and brilliant future. His dying father had said that one day the sword +of his son Napoleon would make all Europe bow under the yoke; his +great-uncle had prophesied he would be a great and exalted personage. + +To these prophecies of the dying is to be added Mirabeau’s judgment, +which called Napoleon a genius of the first stamp. + +But this great and glorious future was yet screened under dark +clouds from the eyes of the young lieutenant of artillery, and the +blood-dripping hand of the Revolution was first needed to tear away +these clouds and to convert the king’s lieutenant of artillery into the +Emperor of France! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. A PAGE FROM HISTORY. + + +The dark clouds which hung yet over the future of Napoleon Bonaparte, +the lieutenant of artillery, were gathering in heavier and heavier +masses over all France, and already were overshadowing the throne of the +lilies. + +Marie Antoinette had already abandoned the paradise of innocency in +Trianon, and when she came there now it was to weep in silence, to cast +away the mask from her face, and under the garb of the proud, imperious, +ambitious queen to exhibit the pallid, anxious countenance of the woman. + +Alas! they were passed away, those days of festivity, those innocent +joys of Trianon; the royal farmer’s wife had no more the heart to carry +the spindle, to gather eggs from the hens’ nests, and to perform with +her friends the joyous idyls of a pastoral life. + +The queen had procured for herself a few years of freedom and license by +banishing from Versailles and from the Tuileries the burdensome Madame +Etiquette, who hitherto had watched over every step of a Queen of +France, but in her place Madame Politique had entered into the palace, +and Marie Antoinette could not drive her away as she had done with +Madame Etiquette. + +For Madame Politique came into the queen’s apartments, ushered in by a +powerful and irresistible suite. The failure of the crops throughout +the land, want, the cries of distress from a famishing people, the +disordered finances of the state--such was the suite which accompanied +Politique before the queen; pamphlets, pasquinades, sarcastic songs +on Marie Antoinette, whom no more the people called their queen, +but already the foreigner, L’Autrichienne--such were the gifts which +Politique brought for the queen. + +The beautiful and innocent days of Trianon were gone, no longer could +Marie Antoinette forget that she was a queen! The burden of her lofty +position pressed upon her always; and, if now and then she sought to +adorn her head with roses, her crown pressed their thorns with deeper +pain into her brow. + +Unfortunate queen! Even the circle of friends she had gathered round her +person only urged her on more and more into the circle which politics +had traced around her. In her innocency and thoughtlessness of heart she +imagined that, to a queen as to any other woman, it might be allowed +to have about her friends and confidants, to enjoy the pleasures of +society, and to amuse one another! But now she had to learn that a queen +dare not have confidants, friends, or social circles! + +Her friends, in whose disinterestedness she had trusted, approached +her with demands, with prayers; they claimed power, influence, and +distinctions; they all wanted to rule through the queen; they all wanted +through her to impose laws to king and state; they wanted to name and +to depose ministers; they wanted their friendship to be rewarded with +embassies, ministerial offices, decorations, and titles. + +And when Marie Antoinette refused compliance with their wishes, her +beautiful friends, the Duchesses de Polignac, wept, and her friends, +Messieurs Vesenval, Vaudreuil, Coigny, and Polignac, dared be angry and +murmur at her. + +But when Marie Antoinette consented--when she used her influence with +the king, to satisfy the wishes of her friends, and to make ministers of +her facon--then the queen’s enemies, with loud, mad-dog cry, lifted up +the voice and complained and clamored that it was no more the king but +the queen who reigned; that she was the one who precipitated the nation +into wretchedness and want; that she gave millions to her friends, +whilst the people were perishing with hunger; that she sent millions to +her brother, the Emperor of Austria, whilst the country was only able +to pay the interest of her enormous debt; that she, in unrestrained +appetite and licentiousness, lived only for pleasure and festivities, +whilst France was depressed under misery and want. + +And the queen’s enemies were mightier, more numerous, and more loyal one +to another than the queen’s friends, who were ever ready to pass into +the camp of her foes as soon as Marie Antoinette gratified not their +wishes and would not satisfy their political claims. + +At the head of these enemies was the king’s brother, the Count de +Provence, who never forgave the queen for being an Austrian princess; +there were also the king’s aunts, who could never forgive her that the +king loved her, that by means of this love to his wife they should lose +the influence which these aunts, and especially Madame Adelaide, had +before exercised over him; there was the Duke d’Orleans, who had to +revenge himself for the disgust and dislike which Marie Antoinette +publicly expressed against this vicious and wild prince; there was the +Cardinal Prince de Rohan, whose criminal passion the queen had repelled +with contemptuous disgust, and who had paid for this passion one million +francs, with imprisonment, shame, and ridicule. For this passion for the +queen had blinded the cardinal, and made him believe in the possibility +of a return. In his blindness he had placed confidence in the +whisperings and false promises of the insidious intriguer Madame de +la Motte-Valois, who, in the queen’s name, asked from him a loan of a +million for the purchase of a jewelled ornament which highly pleased +the queen, and which she, notwithstanding her exhausted coffers, was +resolved to possess. + +Yes, love had blinded Cardinal de Rohan, and with blind eyes he had +accepted as letters from the queen those which Madame de la Motte +brought him; and he could not see that the person who gave him a +rendezvous in the gardens of Versailles was not the queen, but only a +common, vicious woman, who had been clothed in the queen’s garments. + +The queen had been travestied into a wench, and the highest +ecclesiastical dignitary of the land was the one who took this wench for +his queen, was the one who, with a rendezvous, a kiss on the hand, and +a rose, was rewarded for the million he had given to the jeweller for a +necklace of diamonds! + +It is true, the deception was discovered; it is true, it was Marie +Antoinette herself who asked for a strict investigation, who with tears +of anger required from her consort that this horrible intrigue which had +been woven round her person should be investigated and judged publicly +before the Parliament; that the Cardinal de Rohan should be punished for +the criminal insult offered by him to the queen, since he thought her +capable of granting him a rendezvous, of exchanging with him letters of +tender passion, and of accepting gifts from him! + +But the Parliament, which recognized the guilt of Madame de la Motte, +which ordered her to be whipped, branded, and driven out of the country +as an impostor and a thief, the Parliament declared the Cardinal de +Rohan innocent; all punishments were removed from him, and he was +re-established in all his dignities and rights. And the people, who in +enormous masses had besieged the Parliament buildings, welcomed this +decision of the judges with loud demonstrations and shouts of joy, and +carried the cardinal in triumph through the streets, and honored and +glorified him as a martyr and a saint. + +This triumph of the cardinal was an affecting defeat to the queen; it +was the first awful testimony, spoken loudly and openly, by the popular +sentiment. + +Hitherto her enemies had worked against her quietly, and in the darkness +of night; but now, in open day, they dared launch against her their +terrible accusations, and represent her imprudence as a crime, her +errors as shameful and premeditated wickedness. No one believed in the +queen’s innocency in this necklace transaction; and whereas Cardinal +de Rohan had been made a martyr, whereas Parliament had declared him +innocent, the queen consequently must be the guilty one, to whose +cupidity the cardinal and the unfortunate Madame de la Motte and also +the beautiful D’Olivia, who in this horrible farce had played the part +of the queen, had been sacrificed. + +The name, the character, the reputation of the queen, had been trodden +down in the dust, and the Count de Provence, who himself composed +sarcastic songs and pasquinades against his royal sister-in-law, and +had copies of them circulated through the court, reflected not that in +calumniating the queen and exposing her to the scorn and ridicule of +the world he thereby shook the throne itself, and imperilled the awe and +respect which the people should have had for the monarchy. And all the +other mighty dignitaries and foes of Marie Antoinette did not calculate +that in exciting the storm of calumny against the Queen of France, they +also attacked the king and the aristocracy, and tore down the barrier +which hitherto had stood between the people and the nobility. + +Hitherto pamphlets and sarcastic songs only had been directed against +the queen; but now, in the year 1787, all France was to re-echo a +pamphlet launched against the nobility and the whole aristocracy. + +This pamphlet was “The Wedding of Figaro,” by Beaumarchais. The habits +of the aristocracy, of the higher classes, were in this drama castigated +and thrown to the scorn, ridicule, and laughter of all France. Every +thing which the people hitherto had held sacred, was laughed at in this +drama; all the laws of manners, of rank, of morality, were scorned +at, hissed at; and, under this hissing, appeared in full view and with +fearful veracity the rotten and poisoned condition of the so-called +upper classes of society. + +It was in vain that the censor declared the publication illegal, and +prohibited the representation of “The Wedding of Figaro.” The opposition +took advantage of this measure, and since it could not be published, +hundreds of copies were circulated; and, if it could not be represented, +its reading was listened to. It soon became fashionable to attend at the +readings of “Figaro’s Wedding” and to possess a copy of the drama. +Even in the queen’s social circle, in the circle of the Polignacs, this +dangerous drama was patronized, and even the queen was requested to use +her influence upon the king for its representation. + +This general clamor, this tempest of the public opinion, excited +even the king’s curiosity; and as everybody attended the readings of +Beaumarchais’ drama, the crowned heads had also to bow to the fashion. +Madame de Campan had to read before the king and the queen this renowned +“Wedding of Figaro,” so that the king might give his decision. The +good-natured countenance of the king darkened more and more, and during +Figaro’s monologue, in which the different institutions of the state +are ridiculed, especially when, with words full of poison and scorn, the +author alludes to state-prisons, the king rose angrily from his seat. + +“It is a contemptible thing,” cried he, vehemently. “The Bastile must be +destroyed before the representation of this piece would not appear as a +dangerous inconsequence. This man ridicules every thing which in a state +ought to be esteemed and respected.” + +“This piece will not then be represented?” asked Marie Antoinette, at +the close of the reading. + +“No, certainly not!” exclaimed Louis, “you can be convinced of it; this +piece will not be represented.” + +But the clamor, the longings for this representation were more and more +loudly expressed, and more and more pressing. It was in vain that the +king by his decree forbade its already-announced representation in the +theatre of the menus plaisirs. Beaumarchais cried aloud to the murmuring +audience, who complained very loudly against this tyranny, against +this oppression of the king, the consoling words: “Well, sirs, the king +desires that my drama be not represented here, but I swear that it will +be represented, perhaps even in the chancel of Notre Dame.” + +It was soon apparent that Beaumarchais’ words and the wishes of the +public opinion were stronger than the words and the wishes of the king +and of his highest officers. The king himself felt it and acknowledged +it soon; he shrugged his shoulders compassionately when the chancellor +of the seal, adhering still to his opposition, would by no means consent +to the performance of the drama. + +“You will see,” said Louis, with his own soft, good-natured smile--“you +will see that Beaumarchais’ credit is better than that of the great-seal +bearer.” [Footnote: “Memoires de Madame de Campan,” vol. i., p. 279.] + +The king’s prophecy was correct--Beaumarchais had more credit than the +chancellor! His powerful patrons in high places, and all those who +made opposition to the king and queen, and at their head the Count de +Provence, banded together to have this piece publicly represented. The +king’s consent was elicited from him by the assurance made public +that Beaumarchais had stricken out of his drama all the offensive and +captious parts, and that it was now a mere innocent and somewhat tedious +piece. + +The king gave his consent, and “The Wedding of Figaro” was represented +at the Theatre Francais. + +The effect of this drama on the public was a thing unheard of; so +enthusiastic that Beaumarchais himself laughingly said: “There +is something yet more foolhardy than my piece, and that is, its +result”--that the renowned actress Sophie Arnold, in allusion to this, +that the opponents of this drama had prophesied that it would fall +through, exclaimed: “The piece will fall through to-day more than fifty +times one after another!” + +But even this prophecy of the actress did not reach the full result, +and the sixtieth representation was as crowded as the first. All Paris +wanted to see it, so as to hiss the government, the nobility, clergy, +morality. There was a rush from the provinces to Paris for the sake of +attending the representation of “Figaro’s Wedding;” and even those who +hitherto had opposed the performance, pressed forward to see it. + +One day Beaumarchais received a letter from the Duke de Villequier, +asking of him as a favor to give up for that evening his trellised +box in behalf of some ladies of the court, who desired to see “Figaro” + without being seen. + +Beaumarchais answered: “My lord duke, I have no respect for ladies who +desire to see a performance which they consider improper, and who wish +to see it under cover. I cannot stoop to such fancies. I have given my +piece to the public to amuse and not to instruct them, not to procure to +tamed wenches (begueules mitigees) the satisfaction of thinking well of +the piece in a small trellised box, and then to say all manner of evil +against it in public. The pleasure of vice and the honors of +virtue, that is what the prudery of our age demands. My piece is not +double-faced. It must be accepted or repelled. I salute you, my lord +duke, and keep my box.” [Footnote: “Correspondance de Diderot et Grimm +avec un Souverain.”] + +All Paris chuckled over this letter, which was circulated in hundreds +of copies, as the drama itself had circulated at first. Every one was +convinced that it was the queen who wanted to attend the representation +of “Figaro” in the trellised box; for it, was well known that the +queen, angry at monsieur for having been present with all his suite at +a representation in the box reserved for the court, had openly declared: +“Could she come to the conclusion of seeing this drama, she would only +see it through a small trellised box, and that without any ceremony.” + +In laughing at the letter of Beaumarchais, the ridicule was directed +against the queen, who had been refused in so shameful a manner. But +Marie Antoinette did not wish to be laughed at. She still hoped to +overcome her enemies, and to win the public sentiment. She requested an +investigation, she insisted that the Duke de Villequier should openly +acknowledge for whom among the ladies of the court he had asked for the +box; that Beaumarchais should publicly confess that he had not dared +suppose his words were directed against the queen. + +The whole matter was brought to an end by an arbitrary decree. +Beaumarchais was compelled publicly to acknowledge that his famous +letter was directed neither to a duke nor to a peer, but to one of his +friends, whose strange request he had thus answered in the first flush +of anger. But it is evident no one believed in this explanation, and +every one felt pleasure in referring to the queen the expression of +“begueule mitigee.” + +Paris, which for a whole winter had laughed at a theatrical piece, and +was satiated with it, was now to assist at the first scene of a drama +whose tragical power and force were to tear France asunder, and whose +continuance was to be marked by blood and tears. + +This important drama, whose opening followed closely Beaumarchais’ +drama, exhibited its first scene at Versailles at the opening of the +States-General on the 5th of May, 1789. All Paris, all France watched +this event as the rise of a new sun, of a new era which was to break +upon France and bring her happiness, salvation, and strength. A new, an +unsuspected power entered with it upon the scene, the Tiers Etat; +the third class was, at the opening of the States-General, solemnly +recognized as a third power, alongside of the nobility and clergy. +With the third class, the people and the yeomen entered into the king’s +palace; one-half of the people were to make the laws instead of having +to submit to them. + +It was Marie Antoinette who had endeavored with all her influence on the +king that the third class, hitherto barely recognized, barely +tolerated, should appear in a two-fold stronger representation at the +States-General; it was the queen also who had requested Necker’s recall. +Unfortunate woman, who bowed both pride and will to the wishes of public +opinion, who yet hoped to succeed in winning again the people’s love, +since she endeavored to meet the wishes of the people! + +But this love had turned away from her forever; and whatever Marie +Antoinette might now do to exhibit her candid wishes, her devotedness +was not trusted in by the people, who looked upon her as an enemy, no +longer Queen of France, but simply an Austrian. + +Even on this day of universal joy, on the day of the opening of the +States-General, there was no desire to hide from the queen the hatred +felt against her, but there was the resolve to show her that France, +even in her hour of happiness, ceased not to make opposition to her. + +The opening of the States-General was to be preceded in Versailles +by divine service. In solemn procession the deputies arrived; and the +people who had streamed from Paris and from the whole region round +about, and who in compact masses filled the immense square in front of +the palace, and the whole street leading to the Church of St. Louis, +received the deputies with loud, unbroken shouts, and met the princes +and the king with applause. But no sooner was the queen in sight, than +the people remained dumb; and then, after this appalling pause, which +petrified the heart of the queen, the women with their true instinct of +hatred began to cry out, “Long live the Duke d’Orleans! Long live the +people’s friend, the good Duke d’Orleans!” + +The name of the duke thus derisively thrown in the face of the +queen--for it was well known that she hated him, that she had forbidden +him to enter into her apartments--this name at this hour, thrown at +her by the people, struck the queen’s heart as the blow of a dagger; +a deathly pallor overspread her cheeks, and nearly fainting she had to +throw herself into the arms of the Princess de Lamballe, so as not to +sink down. [Footnote: See “Count Mirabeau,” by Theodore Mundt. Second +edition, vol. iii., p. 234.] + +With the opening of the States-General, as already said, began the first +act of the great drama which France was going to represent before +the eyes of Europe terrified and horrified: with the opening of the +States-General the revolution had begun. Every one felt it; every +one knew it; the first man who had the courage to express it was +Mirabeau--Mirabeau, the deputy of the Third Estate, the count who was at +enmity with all those of his rank, who had solemnly parted with them to +devote himself to the people’s service and to liberty! + +On the day of the opening, as he entered the hall in which the +States-General were convened, he gazed with scrutinizing and flaming +eyes on the representatives of the nobility, on those brilliant and +proud lords who, though his equals in rank, were now his inveterate +enemies. A proud, disdainful smile fluttered athwart his lips, which +ordinarily were pressed together with a sarcastic and contemptuous +expression. He then crossed the hall with the bearing of a conqueror, +and took his seat upon those benches from which was launched the +thunderbolt which was to dash to pieces the throne of the lilies. + +A long-tried friend, who was also a friend of the government and of the +nobility, had seen this look of hatred and anger which Mirabeau had +cast upon the gallery of the aristocrats; he now approached Mirabeau +to salute him, and perhaps to pave a way of reconciliation between the +prodigal Count de Mirabeau and his associates in rank. + +“Think,” said he, “my friend, that society is not to be won by threats, +but by flatteries; that, when once injured, it is difficult to effect a +reconciliation. You have been unjust toward society, and if you look +for forgiveness you must not be obstinate, but you must stoop to ask for +pardon.” + +Mirabeau had listened with impatience, but at the word “pardon,” his +anger broke with terrible force. He sprang up, stamped violently on the +floor with his feet; his hair which, like a lion’s mane, mantled his +head, seemed to bristle up, his little eyes darted flashes, and his lips +were blanched and trembling, and with a thundering voice he exclaimed: +“I am not here to implore pardon for myself, but that others should sue +for mercy.” + +Was Mirabeau himself willing to grant pardon? Had he come with a +reconciling heart into this assembly, where people and king were to +measure their rights one against the other? + +As the good King Louis this day entered the hall, in all the pomp of +his royal dignity, to welcome the States-General with a solemn address, +Mirabeau’s eyes were fixed on him: “Behold the victim,” said he. +[Footnote: Theodore Mundt: “Graf Mirabeau,” vol. iv., p. 15.] + +From this day the struggle began--the struggle of the monarchy against +the revolution, of the liberal party against the reaction, the struggle +of the people against the aristocracy, against every thing which +hitherto had been legitimate, welcomed, and sacred! + +A new day had broken in, and the prophetic mind of the queen understood +that with it came the storm which was to scatter into fragments her +happiness and her peace. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. JOSEPHINE’S RETURN. + + +To rest!--to forget! This was what Josephine sought for in Martinique, +and what she found in the circle of her friends. She wanted to rest from +the pains and struggles which had agitated the last years of her life. +She wanted to forget that she still loved the Viscount de Beauharnais, +though rejected and accused, though he had treacherously abandoned her +for the sake of another woman. + +But he was the father of her children, and there was Hortense with her +large blue eyes and her noble, lovely countenance to remind Josephine +of the father to whom Hortense bore so close a resemblance. Josephine’s +tender-heartedness would not suffer the innocent, childish heart of +Hortense to become alienated from her father, or to forget the esteem +and respect which as a daughter she owed to him. Josephine therefore +never allowed any one to utter a word of blame against her husband in +the presence of her daughter; she even imposed silence on her mother +when, in the just resentment of a parent who sees her child suffer, she +accused the man who had brought wretchedness on her Josephine, who at so +early an age had taught her life’s sorrows. + +How joyous, beautiful, happy had her Josephine nearly ten years ago +left her home, her country, her family, to go to a foreign land which +attracted her with every thing which can charm a young girl--with the +love of a young and beautiful husband--with the luxury, the pleasures +and festivities of Paris! + +And now after ten years Josephine returned to her father’s home, lonely, +abandoned, unhappy, blighted with the mildew which ever deteriorates the +character of a divorced woman; yet so young, with so many ruined hopes, +with so many wounds in the heart! + +Josephine’s mother could not pardon him all this, and her countenance +became clouded whenever the little Hortense spoke of her father. And +the child spoke of him so often--for each evening and morning she had to +pray God in his behalf--and when she asked her mother where her brother +Eugene was, why he had not come with them to Martinique; Josephine +answered her, he had remained with his father, who loved him so much, +and who must have at least one of his children with him. + +“Why then can he not, with Eugene, be with us?” asked the little +Hortense, thoughtfully. “Why does he remain in that hateful, stony +Paris, whilst he could live with us in the beautiful garden where so +many charming flowers and so many large trees are to be found? Why is +papa not with us, mamma?” + +“Because he has occupations--because he cannot leave his regiment, my +child,” answered Josephine, carefully hiding her tears. + +“If he cannot come to us, mamma, then let us go to him,” cried the +loving child. “Come, mamma, let us go on board a ship, and let us go to +our dear papa, and to my dear brother Eugene.” + +“We must wait until your father sends for us, until he writes that we +must come,” said Josephine, with a sad smile. “Pray to God, my child, +that he may soon do it!” + +And from this time the child prayed God every evening that her father +would soon send for her mother and for herself; and whenever she saw her +mother receive a letter she said: “Is it a letter from my papa? Does he +write for us to travel and to come to him?” + +One day Josephine was enabled to answer this question to her daughter +with a proud and joyous yes. + +Yes, the Viscount de Beauharnais had begged his wife to forget the past, +and to come back to him. He had, with all the contrition of penitence, +with the glow of an awakening love, prayed for pardon; he requested from +her large-heartedness to be once more reunited to him who had despised, +calumniated, and rejected her; he swore with sacred oaths to love her +alone, and to keep to her in unbroken faithfulness. + +At first Josephine received these vows with a suspicious, sorrowful +smile; the wounds of her heart were not yet healed, the bitter +experiences of the past were yet too fresh in her mind; and Madame de la +Pagerie, Josephine’s mother, repelled with earnestness every thought +of reconciliation and reunion. She did not wish to lose her daughter a +second time, and see her go to meet a dubious and dangerous happiness; +she did not wish that Josephine, barely returned to the haven of rest +and peace, should once more risk herself on the open, tempestuous ocean +of life. + +But the letters of the viscount were more and more pressing, more and +more tender. He had completely and forever broken with Madame de Gisard; +he did not wish to see her again, and henceforth he desired to be the +true, devoted husband of his Josephine. + +Josephine read these assurances, these vows of love, with a joyous +smile, with a beating heart: all the crushed flowers of her youth raised +up their blossoms again in her heart; she began again to hope, to trust, +to believe once more in the possibility of happiness; she was ready to +listen to her husband’s call, and to hasten to him. + +But her mother held her back. She believed not, she trusted not. Her +insulted maternal heart could not forget the humiliations and the +sufferings which this man who now called for Josephine had inflicted +upon her daughter. She could not pardon the viscount for having deserted +his young wife, and that for the sake of a coquette! She therefore +sought to inspire Josephine with mistrust; she told her that these vows +of the viscount were not to be relied upon; that he had not given up his +paramour to come back to Josephine, but that he was forsaken by her and +abandoned by her. Madame de Gisard had regretted to be only the paramour +of the Viscount de Beauharnais, and, as she could never hope to be his +legitimate wife, she had abandoned him, to marry a wealthy Englishman, +with whom she had left France to go with him to Italy. + +At this news Josephine’s head would sink down, and, with tears in her +eyes and sorrow in her heart, she promised her mother no more to listen +to the voice of a faithless husband; no more to value the assurances of +a love which only returned to her because it was rejected elsewhere. + +Meanwhile, not only the Viscount de Beauharnais prayed Josephine to +return, but also his father the marquis claimed this from his beloved +daughter-in-law; even Madame de Renaudin confirmed the entire conversion +of Alexandre, and conjured Josephine to hesitate no longer once more to +take possession of a heart which beat with so burning a sorrow and so +longing a love toward her. She pictured to her, besides, how necessary +she was to him; how much in these troublous and stormy days which had +just begun, he was in need of a quiet haven of domestic life, there to +rest after the labors and the conflicts of politics and of public life; +how many dangers surrounded him, and how soon it might happen that he +would need not only a household refuge but also a nurse who would bind +his wounds and keep watch near the bed of sickness. + +For the times of quietness were gone; the brand which the States-General +had flung over France had lit a fire everywhere, in every city, in every +house, in every head; and the flaming speeches of the deputies of the +Third Estate only fanned the fire into higher flames. + +The revolution was there, and nothing could keep back the torrent +of blood, fire, enthusiasm, and hatred. Already the Third Estate had +solemnly proclaimed its separation from Old France, from the ancient +monarchy of the lilies, since that monarchy had abandoned the large +assembly-hall where the States-General held their sessions, and in which +the nobility and the clergy still imagined they were able to maintain +the balance of power against the despised Third Estate. The Tiers Etat +had, in the ballroom, converted itself into the National Assembly, and +with enthusiasm had all these deputies of the third class sworn on the +17th of June, 1789, “never to part one from the other until they had +given a constitution to France.” + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, deputy from Blois, had passed with his +colleagues into the ballroom, had with them taken the fatal oath; in +the decisive night of the 4th of August he, with burning enthusiasm, +had renounced all the privileges of the nobility, all his feudal rights; +and, breaking with the past, with all its family traditions and customs, +had passed, with all the passion and zest of his nine-and-twenty years, +into the hostile camp of the people and of liberty. + +The revolution, which moved onward with such rash and destructive +strides, had drawn Alexandre de Beauharnais more and more into its +flood. It had converted the king’s major into an enthusiastic speaker +of the Jacobins, then into the secretary of the National Assembly, and +finally into its president. + +The monarchy was not yet powerless; it fought still with all the +bitterness of despair, of the pains of death, against its foes; it still +found defenders in the National Assembly, in the faithful regiments of +the Swiss and of the guards, and in the hearts of a large portion of the +people. The passions of parties were let loose one against another; and +Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, stood +naturally in the first rank of those who were threatened by the attacks +of the royalists. + +Yes, Alexandre de Beauharnais was in danger! Since Josephine knew this, +there was for her but one place which belonged to her, to which she +could lay claim--the place at her husband’s side. + +How could she then have withstood his appeals, his prayers? How could +she then have remained in the solitude and stillness of Martinique, when +her husband was now in the fight, in the very struggle? She had, now +that fate claimed it, either to share her husband’s triumphs, or to +bring him comfort if he fell. + +The intercessions of her family, even the tears of her mother, could no +longer retain Josephine; at the side of her husband, the father of her +two children, there was her place! No one could deprive her of it, if +she herself wished to occupy it. + +She was entitled to it, she was still the wife of the Viscount de +Beauharnais. The Parliament, which had pronounced its verdict against +the demands of a divorce from the viscount, had, in declaring Josephine +innocent, condemned her husband to receive into his house his wife, if +she desired it; or else, in case she waived this right, to pay her a +fixed annual income. + +Josephine had parted voluntarily from her husband, since she had not +returned to him, but had exiled herself with her father-in-law and her +aunt in Fontainebleau; but she had never laid claims to nor received the +income which Parliament had appointed. She had never assumed the rights +of a divorced wife, but she retained still all the privileges of a +married woman, who at God’s altar had bound herself to her husband for a +whole life, in a wedlock which, being performed according to the laws of +the Catholic Church, was indissoluble. + +Now the viscount claimed his wife, and who dared keep her back if she +wished to follow this call? Who could stand between husband and wife, +when their hearts claimed and longed for this reunion? + +The tears of Madame de la Pagerie had attempted it, but had not +succeeded! The soft, patient, pliant Josephine had suddenly become a +strong-minded, joyous, courageous woman; the inconveniences of a long +sea-voyage, the perils of the revolution, into whose open crater she +was to enter, affrighted her not. All the energies of her being began to +develop themselves under the first sunbeams of a renewed love! The years +of sorrow had passed away. Life, love called Josephine again, and she +listened to the call, jubilant and full of friendly trust of undimmed +hope! + +In the first days of September, 1790, Josephine, with the little +Hortense, embarked from Martinique, and after a short, favorable +passage, landed in France, in the middle of October. [Footnote: If, +in the work “Queen Hortense, an Historical Sketch from the Days of +Napoleon,” I have given a few different details of Josephine’s return to +France and to her husband, I have followed the error common to all the +historians of that time, who represent Josephine returning despite her +husband’s will, who receives her into his house, and recognizes her as +his wife, only at the instant supplication of his family, and +especially of his children. It is only of late that all this has been +satisfactorily refuted, and that it has been proved that Josephine +returned only at the instance of her husband’s pressing demands. See +Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 164.--L. M.] + +Again a prophecy accompanied Josephine to France, and perhaps this +prophecy is to be blamed for her sudden departure and her unwavering +resolution to leave Martinique. The old negro woman who, once before +Josephine’s departure, had prophesied that she would wear a crown and be +more than a Queen of France--the old Euphemia was still living, and +was still considered as an infallible oracle. A few days before her +departure, Josephine, with all the superstitious faith of a Creole, went +to ask the old prophetess if her journey would be propitious. + +The old Euphemia stared long and fixedly into Josephine’s smiling +countenance; then, as if overcome by a sudden thought, she exclaimed: +“Go! go as fast as possible, for death and danger threaten you! Already +are on the watch wicked and bloodthirsty fiends, who every moment are +ready to rush among us with fire and sword, and to destroy the colony in +their cruel wrath!” + +“And shall I safely arrive in France?” asked Josephine. “Shall I again +see my husband?” + +“You will see him again,” exclaimed the prophetess, “but hasten to go to +him.” + +“Is he threatened with any danger?” demanded Josephine. + +“Not yet!--not at once!” said the old negress. “They now applaud your +husband and recognize his services. But he has powerful enemies, and one +day they will threaten his life, and will lead him to the scaffold and +murder him!” + +Before Josephine left Martinique, a portion of these prophecies of +the old negro woman were to be fulfilled. The wicked and bloodthirsty +fiends, of whom she said they were ready with fire and sword to rush +upon the colony--those fiends did light the firebrand and destroy the +peace of Martinique. + +The resounding cries for freedom uttered in the National Assembly, and +which shook the whole continent, had rushed along across the ocean to +Martinique. The storm-wind of the revolution had on its wings borne the +wondrous story to Martinique--the wondrous story of man’s sacred rights, +which Lafayette had proclaimed in the National Assembly, the wondrous +story that man was born free, that he ought to remain free, that there +were to be no more slaves in the land of liberty, in France, and in her +colonies. + +The storm-wind which brought this great news across the ocean to +Martinique scattered it into the negro-cabins, and at first they +listened to it with wondrous delight. Then the delirium of joy came over +them; jubilant they broke their chains, and in wild madness anticipated +their human rights, their personal freedom. + +The revolution, with its terrible consequences of blood and horrors, +broke loose in Martinique, and, exulting in freedom, the slaves threw +the firebrand on the roof of their former masters, rushed with war’s +wild cry into their dwellings, and, in freedom’s name, punished those +who so long had punished them in tyranny’s name. + +Amid the barbaric shouts of those dark free men, Josephine embarked on +board the ship which was to carry her and her little Hortense to France; +and the flames which rose from the roofs of the houses as so many +way-marks of fire for the new era, were Josephine’s last, sad farewell +from the home which she was never to see again. [Footnote: Le Normand, +“Memoires de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 147] + + + + +CHAPTER X. THE DAYS OF THE REVOLUTION. + + +Happiness had once more penetrated into the heart of Josephine. Love +again threw her sun-gleams upon her existence, and filled her whole +being with animation and joy. She was once more united to her husband, +who, with tears of joy and repentance, had again taken her to his heart. +She was once more with her relatives, who, in the day of distress, had +shown her so much love and faithfulness, and finally she had also her +son, her own dear Eugene, from whom she had been separated during the +sad years of their matrimonial disagreements. + +How different was the husband she now found from him she had quitted! He +was now a man, an earnest, thoughtful man, with a fiery determination, +with decidedness of purpose, and yet thoughtful, following only what +reason approved, even if the heart had been the mover. The passions +of youth had died away. The excitable, thoughtless, pleasure-seeking +officer of the king had become a grave, industrious, indefatigable, +moral, austere servant of the people and of liberty. The songs of joy, +of equivocal jesting, of political satire, had died away on those lips +which only opened now in the clubs, in the National Assembly, to utter +inspired words in regard to liberty, fraternity, and equality. + +The most beautiful dancer of Versailles had become the president of the +National Assembly, which made so many tears run, and awoke so much anger +and hatred in the king’s palace of Versailles. He at least belonged to +the constitutional fraction of the National Assembly; he was the +friend and guest of Mirabeau and of Lafayette; he was the opponent of +Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, and of all the fanatics of the Mountain +party, who already announced their bloody views, and claimed a republic +as the object of their conflicts. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was no republican, however enthusiastic he +might have been in favor of America’s struggle for freedom, however +deeply he had longed to go like Lafayette to America, for the sake of +assisting the Americans to break the chains which yoked them to England, +so as to build a republic for themselves. The enthusiasm of that +day, the enthusiasm for France had driven him upon the path of the +opposition; but while desiring freedom for the people, he still hoped +that the people’s freedom was compatible with the power and dignity of +the crown; that at the head of constitutional France the throne of a +constitutional king would be maintained. To bring to pass this reunion, +this balance of right between the monarchy and the people, such was the +object of the wishes of Alexandre de Beauharnais; this was the ultimate +aim of his struggles and longings. + +Josephine looked upon these tumultuous conflicts of parties, upon this +wild storm of politics, with wondering, sad looks. With all the tact of +tender womanhood she held herself aloof from every personal interference +in these political party strifes. At the bottom of her heart a true and +zealous royalist, she guarded herself carefully from endeavoring to keep +her husband back from his chosen path, and to bring into her house and +family the party strifes of the political arena. She wanted and longed +for peace, unity, and rest, and in his home at least her husband would +have no debates to go through, no sentiments to fight against. + +In silence and devotedness Josephine submitted to her husband’s will, +and left him to perform his political part, while she assumed the part +of wife, mother, of the representative of the household; and every +evening opened her drawing-room to her friends, and to her husband’s +associates in the same conflict. + +What a mixed and extraordinary assemblage was seen in the +drawing-room of the president of the National Assembly! There were +the representatives of old France, the brilliant members of the old +nobility: the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the Count de Montmorency, the +Marquis de Caulaincourt, the Prince de Salm-Cherbourg, the Princess von +Hohenzollern, Madame de Montesson, the wife of the old Duke d’Orleans; +and alongside of these names of the ancient regime, new names rose up. +There were the deputies of the National Assembly--Barnave, Mounier, +Thouvet, Lafayette, and the favorite of the people, the great Mirabeau. +Old France and Young France met here in this drawing-room of Josephine +on neutral grounds, and the beautiful viscountess, full of grace and +prudence, offered to them both the honors of her house. She listened +with modest bashfulness to the words of the great tribunes of the +people, and oftentimes with a smile or a soft word she reconciled the +royalists, those old friends who sought in this drawing-room for +the Viscountess de Beauharnais, and found there only the wife of the +president of the National Assembly. + +The saloon of Josephine was soon spoken of, and seemed as a haven in +which the refined, elegant manners, the grace, the wit, the esprit, had +been saved from the stormy flood of political strife. Every one sought +the privilege of being admitted into this drawing-room, whose charming +mistress in her own gentleness and grace received the homage of all +parties, pleased every one by her loveliness, her charms, the fine, +exquisite tact with which she managed at all times the sentiments of the +company, and with which she knew how to guide the conversation so +that it would never dwindle into political debates or into impassioned +speeches. + +However violent was the tempest of faction outside, Josephine endeavored +that in the interior of her home the serene peace of happiness should +prevail. For she was now happy again, and all the liveliness, all the +joys of youth, had again found entrance into her mind. The anguish +endured, the tears shed, had also brought their blessing; they had +strengthened and invigorated her heart; with their grave, solemn +memories they preserved Josephine, that child of the South, of the sun, +and of joy, from that light frivolity which otherwise is so often the +common heritage of the Creoles. + +The viscount had now the satisfaction which ten years ago, at the +beginning of his married life, he had so intently longed for, the +satisfaction of seeing his wife occupied with grave studies, with the +culture of her own mind and talents. It was to him a ravishment to see +Josephine in her drawing-room in earnest conversation with Buffon, and +with all the aptitude of a naturalist speak of the organization and +formation of the different families of plants; he exulted in the open +praise paid to her when, with her fine, far-reaching voice, she sang +the songs of her home, which she herself accompanied on the harp; he was +proud when, in her saloon, with all the tact and assurance of a lady of +the world, she took the lead in the conversation, and could speak +with poets and authors, with artists and savants, and that, with +understanding and feeling, upon their latest works and creations; he +was made happy when, passing from serious gravity to the most innocent +gayety, she jested, laughed, and danced, as if she were yet the +sixteen-year-old child whom ten years ago he had made his wife, and from +whom he had then so cruelly exacted that she should demean herself as a +fine, experienced, and highly-refined lady. + +Life had since undertaken to mould the young Creole into an elegant, +highly-accomplished woman, but fortunately life had been impotent to +change her heart, and that heart was ever beating in all the freshness +of youth, in all the joyous warmth and faithfulness of the young girl of +sixteen years who had come to France with so many ideal visions, so many +illusions, so many dreams and hopes. It is true this ideal had vanished +away, these illusions had burst into pieces like meteors in the skies; +the dreams and hopes of the young maiden heart had fallen into dust, but +the love, the confiding, faithful, hoping love, the love assured of the +future, had remained alive; it had overcome the storms and conflicts; it +had been Josephine’s consolation in the days of sorrow; it was now her +delight in these days of happiness. + +Her whole heart, her undivided love, belonged to her husband, to her +children, and often from the society gathered in her reception-rooms, +she would slip away and hasten to the bed of her little Hortense to +bid good-night to the child, who never would sleep without bidding +good-night to its mother, who would kneel at the side of the crib with +little Hortense, and utter the evening prayer, asking of God to grant to +them all prosperity and peace! + +But this peace which Josephine so earnestly longed for was soon to be +imperilled more and more, was to be banished from the interior of home +and family, from its most sacred asylum, by the revolution and its +stormy factions. + +An important event, pregnant with results, suddenly moved all Paris, and +filled the minds of all with the most fearful anticipations. + +The king, with his wife and children, had fled! Openly and irretrievably +he had separated himself from country and people; he had, by this +flight, solemnly expressed before all Europe the discord which existed +between him and his people, between the king and the constitution to +which he had sworn allegiance. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, was +the first to be informed of this extraordinary event. On the morning of +the 21st of June, 1791, M. de Bailly, mayor of Paris, came to announce +to him that the king with all his family had fled from Paris the +previous evening. + +It was the hour at which the sessions of the National assembly began +every morning, and Beauharnais, accompanied by Bailly, hastened to the +Assembly. The deputies were already seated when the president took +the chair with a grave, solemn countenance. This countenance told the +deputies of the people that the president had an important and very +unusual message to communicate, and a deep stillness, an oppressive +silence, overspread the whole assemblage as the president rose from his +seat to address them. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, with a voice which, amid the general silence, +sounded solemn and powerful--“gentlemen, I have a sad message to bring +before you. The mayor of Paris has just now informed me that the king +and his family have this night been seduced into flight by the +enemies of the people.” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice +Josephine,” vol i., p. 171.] + +This news had a stupendous effect on the deputies. At first they sat +there dumb, as if petrified with fear; then they all rose up to make +their remarks and motions in a whirl of confusion, and it required all +the energy and determination of the president to re-establish peace, and +to control their minds. + +The Assembly then, in quiet debate, resolved to declare itself in +permanent session until the termination of this crisis, and gave to the +president full power during this time to provide for the tranquillity +and security of the Assembly. Bailly and Lafayette were by the president +summoned before the deputies, to state what the sentiments of Paris +were, what was the attitude of the National Guards, what were the +precautions they had taken to preserve aright the peace of Paris. + +But this peace was not in danger, and the only one whom the Parisian +people at this moment dreaded, was he who had fled from Paris--the king. +And yet, not for a moment did the people rise in anger against the +king; actuated by a new and overpowering thought, the people in their +enthusiasm for this idea forgot their anger against him who by his deed +had kindled this thought. The thought which was uppermost in all minds +at the flight of the king was this: that the state could subsist even +if there were no king at its head; that law and order still remained in +Paris, even when the king had fled. + +This law and order was the National Assembly, the living representation +and embodiment of the law; the government was there; the king alone had +disappeared. Such was the sentiment which animated all classes, which +brought the people in streaming masses to the palace where the National +Assembly held its sittings. A few hours after the news of the king’s +flight had spread through Paris, thousands were besieging the National +Assembly, and shouting enthusiastically: “Our king is here; he is in the +hall of session. Louis XVI. can go; he can do what he wills; our king +is still in Paris!” [Footnote: Prudhomme, “Histoire Parlementaire de la +Revolution,” vol. x. p. 241.] + +The Assembly, “the King of Paris,” remained in permanent session, +waiting for the developments of events, and working out in committees +the decrees passed in common deliberation, whilst the president and +the secretary remained the whole night in the council-room, so as to +be ready at any moment to rectify fresh news and to issue the necessary +orders. + +Early next morning the most important news had reached the president, +and the deputies hastened from their respective committees into the hall +of session, there to take their seats. + +Amid the breathless silence of the Assembly, President Beauharnais +announced that the king, the queen, the dauphin, Madame, and divers +persons of their suite, had been arrested in Varennes. + +The Assembly received this communication with dignified quietude, for +they were conscious that the king’s return would in no wise impair their +own sovereignty, that the power was in their hands, even if the king +were there. In this full assurance of their dignity the National +Assembly passed a decree ordering the proper authorities “to protect +the king’s return, to seize and imprison all those who might forget, the +respect they owed to the royal dignity.” + +At the same time the National Assembly sent from their number +two deputies, Barnave and Petion, to bring back from Varennes the +unfortunate royal family and to accompany them to Paris. + +Meanwhile the news of the king’s capture only increased the people’s +enthusiasm for the National Assembly, the truly acknowledged sovereign +of France. Every one was anxious to give expression to this enthusiasm; +the National Guards of Paris begged for the privilege of taking the oath +of allegiance to the National Assembly, and when at the motion of the +president this was granted by the Assembly, a whole detachment was +marched into the hall so as to take the oath of allegiance to the +National Assembly with one voice, amid the applause of the Assembly and +the tribunes. This detachment was followed by fresh companies, and the +people filled the streets to see the National Guards come and go, and +like them to swear allegiance to the National Assembly with enthusiastic +shouts. + +The provinces would not be a whit behind the enthusiasm of Paris; and +whilst the guards swore their oath, from all cities and provinces came +to the president of the National Assembly, addresses congratulating +the Assembly on its triumphs, and promising the most unconditional +devotedness. + +Finally after two days of restless activity, after two days, during +which Alexandre de Beauharnais had hardly found time to quiet his wife +by a note, explaining his absence from home, finally a courier brought +the news that the captive royal family were entering Paris. A second +courier followed the first. He announced that the royal family had +reached the Tuileries surrounded by an immense crowd, whose excitement +caused serious apprehensions. Petion had, therefore, thought it +expedient not to allow the royal family to alight, but had confined them +to the two carriages, and he now sent the keys of these two carriages to +the president of the National Assembly, as it was now his duty to adopt +still further measures. + +Beauharnais proposed that at once twenty deputies be chosen to speed on +to the Tuileries to deliver the royal family from their prison, and to +lead them into the palace. + +The motion was carried, and the deputies reached the court of the +Tuileries yet in time to save the affrighted family from the people, +who, in their wild madness, were about to destroy the carriages, and to +take possession of the king and queen. + +The presence of the deputies imposed silence on the shouts and howlings +of the people. The king had come into the Tuileries, and before him +bowed the people in dumb respect. They quietly allowed that this their +king should open the carriage wherein the other king, the king by God’s +grace, Louis XVI., sat a prisoner; they allowed that the king by the +grace of the people, the National Assembly, through its twenty deputies, +should render liberty to Louis and to his family, and lead them quietly +under their protection into the Tuileries. + +But from this day the Tuileries, which for centuries had been the palace +of the kings of France, now became a prison for the King of France! + +Louis XVI. was returned, not as the head, but as the prisoner of the +state; from the moment he left Paris, the ermine mantle of his royalty +had fallen from his shoulders upon the shoulders of the National +Assembly; King Louis XVI. had dethroned himself. + +Amid these fatal storms, amid these ever-swelling revolutionary floods, +there was yet an hour of happiness for Josephine. Out of the wild waves +of rebellion was to rise, for a short time, an island of bliss. The +National Assembly, whose president, Alexandre de Beauharnais, had +once more, in the course of the sessions, been re-elected by general +acclamation, declared itself on the 3d of September, 1791, dissolved, +and its members vanished to make room for the Legislative Assembly, +which organized the very next day. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, after having so long and so zealously +discharged his duties as a citizen, returned to his Josephine, to his +children; and, weary with the storms and debates of the last months, +longed for a quiet little place, away from the turmoil of the capital +and from the attrition of parties. Josephine acquiesced gladly in the +wishes of her husband, for she felt her innermost being shattered by +these last exciting times, and perhaps she cherished the secret hope +that her husband, once removed from Paris, would be drawn away from the +dangerous arena of politics, into which his enthusiasm had driven +him. She was, and remained at heart, a good and true royalist; and +as Mirabeau, dying in the midst of revolution’s storms, had said +of himself, that “he took to his grave the mourning-badge for the +monarchy,” [Footnote: Mirabeau died on the 6th of May, 1791.--See, +on his death, “Count Mirabeau,” by Theodore Mundt, vol. iv.] so also +Josephine’s heart, since the flight to Varennes, wore the mourning-badge +for the unfortunate royal family, who since that day had to endure so +much humiliation, so much insult, and to whom Josephine in her loyal +sense of duty consecrated the homage of a devout subject. + +Josephine, therefore, gladly consented to the viscount’s proposal to +leave Paris. Accompanied by their children and by the governess of +Hortense, Madame Lanoy, the viscount and his wife went to a property +belonging to one of the Beauharnais family near Solange. + +Three months were granted to Josephine in the quietude, in the sweet +repose of country-life, at her husband’s side, and with her children, to +gather strength from the anxieties and griefs which she had suffered in +Paris. She enjoyed these days as one enjoys an unexpected blessing, a +last sunshine before winter’s near approach, with thankful heart to God. +Full of cheerful devotedness to her husband, to her children, her lovely +countenance was radiant with joy and love; she was ever busy, with the +sunshine of her smile, to dissipate the shadows from her husband’s brow, +and to replace the impassioned excitements, the honors and distinctions +of his Parisian life, by the pleasantness and joys of home. + +But Alexandra de Beauharnais could no longer find satisfaction in the +quiet, harmless joys of home; he even reproached himself that he could +be cheerful and satisfied whilst France resounded with cries of distress +and complaints, whilst France was torn in her innermost life by the +disputes and conflicts of factions which, no more satisfied with the +speeches of the tribune, filled the streets with blood and wounds. The +revolution had entered into a new phase, the Legislative Assembly had +become the Constituent Assembly, which despoiled the monarchy of the +last appearance of power and degraded it to a mere insignificancy. The +Girondists, those ideal fanatics, who wanted to regenerate France after +the model of the states of antiquity, had seized the power and the +ministerial portefeuilles. The beautiful, witty, and noble Madame Roland +ruled, by means of her husband, the Minister Roland, and was striving to +realize in France the ideal of a republic after the pattern of Greece; +she was the very soul of the new cabinet, the soul of the Girondists, +the rulers of France; in her drawing-room, during the evening, the new +laws to be proposed next day in the Constituent Assembly, were spoken +of, and the government measures discussed. + +For a moment it had seemed as if the king, through his cabinet +of Girondists, would once more be reconciled with his people, and +especially with the Constituent Assembly, as if the nation and the +monarchy would once more endeavor to stand one by the other in harmony +and peace. Perhaps the Girondists had believed in this possibility, +and had regarded the king’s assurances that he would adhere to the +constitution, and that he would go hand in hand with his ministers, and +accept the constitution as the faithful expression of his will. But when +they discovered that Louis was not honorable in his assurances; that +he was in secret correspondence with the enemies of France; that in a +letter to his brother-in-law, the Emperor Leopold, he had made bitter +complaints about the constraint to which he was subjected, then +the Girondists were inflamed with animosity, and had recourse to +counter-measures. They decreed the exile of the priests, and the +formation, in the vicinity of Paris, of a camp of twenty thousand +militia from all the departments of France. + +Foreign nations looked upon this decree as a sign of dawning +hostilities, and threatened France with countermeasures. France +responded to the challenge thus thrown at her, and, in a stormy session +of the Assembly, the fatherland was declared to be in danger, the +organization of an army to occupy the frontiers was decreed, and all the +children of the fatherland were solemnly called to her defence. + +This call awoke Alexandre de Beauharnais from the dreamy repose to which +he had abandoned himself during the last months. His country called +him, and he dared not remain deaf to this call; it was his duty to tear +himself from the quiet peace of the household, from the arms of his +wife and family, and place himself in the ranks of the defenders of his +country. + +Josephine heard this resolution with tears in her eyes, but she +could not keep back her husband, whose countenance was beaming with +enthusiasm, and who dreamed of fame and victory. She accompanied +Alexandre to Paris, and after he had been gladly received by the +minister of war, and appointed to the Northern army, she then took from +him a last, fond farewell, entreated him with all the eloquence of love +to spare himself, and not wantonly to face danger, but to preserve his +life for his wife and children. + +Deeply moved by this tender solicitude of his wife, Alexandre promised +to hold her requests as sacred. Once more they embraced each other +before they both quitted Paris on diverging roads. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais went to Valenciennes, where commanded Marshal +Rochambeau, to whom he had been commissioned adjutant. + +Josephine hastened with her children toward Fontainebleau, so at least +to be there united with her husband’s father, and to live under his +protection until the return of her husband. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE TENTH OF AUGUST, AND THE LETTER OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + + +Since the death of Mirabeau, the last defender of the monarchy, since +the failure of the contemplated flight, royalty in France had no chance +of existence left; the throne had lost every prop upon which it could +find support, and it sank more and more into the abyss which the +revolution had dug under its feet. + +Marie Antoinette was conscious of it; her foreboding spirit foresaw +the coming evil; her proud soul nearly broke under the humiliations and +griefs which every day brought on. She had hitherto courageously and +heroically struggled against adversity; she had concealed tears and +anguish, to smile at that people which hated her and cursed her, which +insulted and reviled her constantly. But a day was to come in which the +smile would forever depart from her lip--in which Marie Antoinette, the +daughter of the Caesars, so deeply humbled and trodden down in the dust, +would no more lift up her head, would no more rise from the terrible +blow. + +This day was the 10th of August, in the year 1792. The terrible storm, +which so long had filled the air with its mutterings, and had shaken the +throne with its thunderings, was on this day with terrific power to be +let loose and to dash in pieces the monarchy. The king furnished the +occasion for this eruption by dismissing his Girondist ministry, by not +signing the decree for the organization of a national militia, and for +the exile of the priests. + +This refusal was the flash which broke open the heavy clouds that so +long had hung over his head--the flash which caused the tempest to burst +forth. + +Since that day Paris was in a state of rebellion; fresh disturbances +took place every day; and finally, on the morning of the 10th of August, +bands of people rushed to the palace of the Tuileries and surrounded +it with wild howlings and shouts. A portion of the National Guards +endeavored to force the people into a retreat; the other portion united +with the people in fierce assaults upon the Tuileries, and on its +defenders the Swiss. These were massacred by the people armed with +pikes; with jubilant howlings the armed masses rushed over the corpses +of the fallen into the king’s palace. + +The Procurator-General Roderer implored the king to save himself with +his family by taking refuge in the National Assembly, for there alone +was safety for him and the queen. + +Louis hesitated; but Marie Antoinette felt once more the pride of a +queen awake within her; she felt it was nobler and worthier to die as +the loyal Swiss had done, to die sword in hand, than to meet pardon and +disgrace, than to bow her head under the yoke. She entreated the king to +remain with the loyal National Guards and to fight with his soldiers and +die in the palace of his fathers. She spoke to the successor of Henry +IV., to the father of the dauphin, for whom he should maintain the +inheritance received; she appealed to the heart, to the honor of Louis; +she spoke with flaming eyes, and with the eloquence of despair. + +But Louis listened not to her, but to the solicitations of Roderer, who +told him that he had but five minutes to save himself, the queen, and +his children; that in five minutes more all would be lost. + +“It cannot be helped,” muttered the king; and then with louder voice +he continued: “It is my will that we be conducted into the Legislative +Assembly; I command it!” + +A shriek of terror broke forth from the breast of the queen; her proud +heart resisted once more her husband’s weakness, who, for his own and +for her misfortune, was not made of the stuff which moulds kings. + +“Sire,” cried she, angrily and excited--“sire, you must first command +that I be nailed to the walls of this palace! I remain here. I stir not +from this spot!” [Footnote: The very words of the queen.--See “Memoires +Secretes et Universelles,” par Lafont d’Aussone.] + +But Madame Elizabeth, the Princesses de Lamballe and de Tarent, begged +her with tears to consent; the good king fixed on her sad, weeping +eyes, and Roderer entreated her not to abandon, by her delays, to the +approaching executioners, her husband, her children, and herself. + +Marie Antoinette offered to her husband her last and her greatest +sacrifice; she bowed her proud head to his will; she consented to +accompany the king with her children into the Assembly. + +She took the dauphin in her arms, Madame Therese by the hand, and, at +the side of the king, followed by the Princesses Lamballe and Tarent, +walked out of the palace of the Tuileries to go to the Convent des +Peuillants, where the Legislative Assembly held its sessions. + +What a martyrdom in this short distance from the Tuileries to the +Feuillants--what dishonor and fears were gathered on this path! Between +the deep ranks of Swiss grenadiers and National Guards was this path; +the queen stares fixedly on the ground, and she does not see that her +thin silk shoes will be torn by the hard, fallen leaves of the trees +under which they are moving. + +But the king sees every thing, notices every thing. “How many leaves,” + said he, gazing forward--“they fall early this year!” + +Now at the foot of the terrace the advance of the royal family is +stopped by a multitude of people, who, with wild howlings, swing their +pikes and clubs, and in their madness shout: “No, they must not enter +the Assembly!--they are the cause of all our misery! Let us put an end +to all this! Down with them!--down!” + +The queen pays no attention to these shouts; she sees not that the +National Guards are clearing a way by force; she walks forward with +uplifted head, with a countenance petrified like that of Medusa at the +sight of evil. + +But as a man approaches her, seizes the dauphin and takes him in his +arms, the transfixed queen is aroused, and, with all the anguish of a +mother’s despair, grapples the arm of the man who wants to rob her of +all she now possesses, her child! + +“Be not afraid,” whispered the man, “I will do him no harm, I am but +going to carry him;” and Marie Antoinette, her eyes fixed on the child, +moves forward. At their entrance into the hall of the Assembly the man +gives her back the dauphin, and she makes him sit down near her on the +seats of the ministers. + +A rough voice issues from the midst of the Assembly: “The dauphin +belongs to the nation; place him at the side of the president. The +Austrian is not worthy of our confidence!” + +They tear away from the queen the weeping child, who clings to her, and +who is carried to the president, at whose left hand the king has seated +himself. + +Again a voice is heard reminding the Assembly of the law which forbids +them to deliberate in the presence of the king. + +The royal family must leave the lower portion of the hall, and are led +into a small room, with iron trellis-work, behind the president’s chair. + +The royal family, with their attendants, pressed into the small space of +this room, can here at least, away from the gaze of their enemies, hide +their dishonored heads; at least no one sees the nervousness of despair +which now and then agitates the tall figure of the queen, the tears +trembling on her eyelids when she looks to the poor little dauphin, +whose blond curly head lies in her bosom, asleep from exhaustion, +hunger, and sorrow. + +No one sees the king and the queen, but they see and hear every thing. +They hear from without the howlings of the mob, the cannon’s roar, the +reports of the rifles, telling them that a bloody fratricidal strife, a +terrible civil war, is raging. They hear there in the hall, a few steps +from them, the fanatical harangues of the deputies, whose words, full +of blood, are like the hands of the murdering Marsellais there without. +Marie Antoinette hears Vergniaud’s motion, “to divest the king at once +of his power and rank,” and she hears the acclamations of the Assembly +in favor of the motion. She hears the Assembly by their own power +reinvesting the Girondist ministers, dismissed by the king, with their +dignity and power! She hears the Assembly decide “to invite the French +people to form a national compact.” + +She hears all this, and the cold perspiration of anguish and horror +covers her brow while she has yet strength enough to force hack her +tears into her heart. She asks for a handkerchief to wipe her forehead. +Not one of the attendants around can furnish a kerchief which is not +stained with the blood of the victims fallen at their side in protecting +the royal family with their lives. [Footnote: “Memoires inedites du +Comte de la Rochefoucauld.”] + +At last, at two o’clock in the morning, is this painful martyrdom ended, +and the royal family are led into the upper rooms of the convent, where +hastily and penuriously enough a few chambers had been furnished. + +The howlings of the crowd ascend to their windows. Under those of the +queen’s room groups of infuriated women sing the song whose horrible +burden is, “Madame Veto avait promis de faire egorger tout Paris.” + Between the sentences other voices shout and howl: “The queen is the +cause of our misery! Kill her! kill the queen, the murderess of France! +Kill Madame Veto! Throw us her head!” + +Three days after, the royal family are led to the Temple. The rulers of +the state are now state prisoners. But the queen had already found the +peace which misfortune generally brings to strong souls; and as she +walked to the Temple, and saw her foot protruding from the extremity +of her shoe, she said with an affecting smile, “Who could have believed +that one day the Queen of France should be in want of shoes!” + +With the 10th of August began the last act of the great tragedy of the +revolution. Its second scene had its representation in the first days of +September, in those days of blood and tears, in which infuriated +bands of the people stormed the prisons to murder the captive priests, +aristocrats, and royalists. + +Under the guillotine fell during this month the head of the queen’s +friend, the Princess de Lamballe, who was followed in crowds by the +king’s faithful adherents, sealing their loyalty and their love with +their death. + +This loyalty and love for the royal family was during this month branded +as an unpardonable crime, for the National Convention, which on the 21st +of September had taken the place of the Constituent Assembly, on the +25th declared France to be a republic, and the royalists became thereby +criminals, who had sinned in the respect and love which they owed to the +“republic one and indivisible.” + +The new republic of France celebrated her saturnalia in the following +months, and unfurled her blood-stained standard over the nation. She +was not satisfied with having brought to the guillotine more than ten +thousand aristocrats and royalists, to terrify the faithful adherents +and servants of the throne. She required, moreover, the death of those +for whose sake so many thousands had perished--the death of the king and +of the queen. + +On the 5th of December began the trial of Louis Capet, ex-King of +France, now accused by the Convention. The pages of history have +illustrated this stupendous and tragical event in all its shapes and +colors. Each party has preyed upon it, the poets have sung it, and made +it the central point of tragedy and romance: but none have painted it +in so telling, in so terse, masterly traits, none have so fully +comprehended and expressed the already stupendous event, as Lieutenant +Napoleon Bonaparte, the future Emperor of France. + +He happened to be in Paris during these days of terror. He had, with all +the energies of his soul, given himself up to the new state of +things, and he belonged to the most upright and zealous faction of +the republicans. He acknowledged himself won over to their ideas, he +participated in their celebrations, he was the friend of many of the +most influential and conspicuous members of the Convention, and he was +rarely absent from their meetings; but in the presence of the awful +catastrophe of the king’s accusation and execution his proud and daring +soul shrank back, and, full of misgivings, shuddered within itself. The +young, enthusiastic republican, to his own great horror, found in +the depths of his soul a holy respect and awe in the presence of this +royalty which he so often in words had despised, and the fall of the +king, this enemy of the republic, moved his heart as a calamity which +had fallen upon him and upon all France. He himself gave to one of +his friends in Ajaccio a very correct description of these days. After +narrating the events of the first days of the trial of the king, he +continues: + +“The day after I heard that the advocate Target had refused to undertake +the king’s defence, to which he was privileged by virtue of his office. +This is what may be called, in the strictest sense of the word, to erase +one’s name from history. What grounds had he for such a low cunning? +‘His life I will not save, and mine I dare not risk!’ Malherbes, +Tronchet, Deseze, loyal and devoted subjects, to imitate them in their +zeal would be impossible for me; but were I a prince I would have them +sit at my right hand--united together in the most strenuous efforts to +defend the successor of St. Louis. If they survive this deed of sublime +faithfulness, never can I pass by them without uncovering my head. + +“Business detained me unavoidably in Versailles. Only on the 16th of +January did I return to Paris, and consequently I had lost three or four +scenes of this tragedy of ambition. But on the 18th of January I went +to the National Convention. Ah, my friend, it is true, and the most +infuriated republicans avow it also, a prince is but an ordinary man! +His head will as surely fall as that of another man, but whosoever +decrees his death trembles at his own madness, and were he not urged +by secret motives, his vote would die on his lips ere it was uttered. +I gazed with much curiosity at the fearless mortals who were about +deciding the fate of their king. I watched their looks. I searched into +their hearts. The exceeding weightiness of the occasion had exalted +them, intoxicated them, but within themselves they were full of fear in +the presence of the grandeur of their victim. + +“Had they dared retreat, the prince had been saved. To his misfortune, +they had argued within themselves, ‘If his head falls not to-day, then +we must soon give ours to the executioner’s stroke.’ + +“This was the prominent thought which controlled their vote. No pen +can adequately portray the feelings of the spectators in the galleries. +Silent, horrified, breathless, they gazed now on the accused, now on the +defenders, now on the judges. + +“The vote of Orleans sounded forth--‘Death!’ An electric shock could +not have produced deeper impression. The whole assembly, seized with +an involuntary terror, rose. The hall was filled with the murmurs of +conflicting emotions. + +“Only one man remained seated, immovable as a rock, and that one was +myself. + +“I ventured to reflect on the cause of such indifference (as that of +Orleans) and I found that cause grounded on ambition, but this cannot +justify the conduct of Orleans. It is only thus that I could account +for his action: he seeks a throne, though without any right to it, and +a throne cannot be won if the pretender renounces all claims to public +respect and virtue. + +“I will be brief, for to unfold a mournful story is not my business. +The king was sentenced to death; and if the 21st day of January does +not inspire hatred for the name of France, a glorious name at least will +have been added to the roll-call of her martyrs. + +“What a city was Paris on that day! The population seemed to be in a +state of bewilderment; all seemed to exchange but gloomy looks, and one +man hurried on to meet another without uttering a word. The streets were +deserted; houses and palaces were like graves. The very air seemed to +mirror the executioner. In a word, the successor of St. Louis was led to +the scaffold through the ranks of mourning automatons, that a short time +before were his subjects. + +“If any one is at your side, my friend, when you read this, conceal the +following lines from him, even were he your father. It is a stain on the +stuff of which my character is made--that Napoleon Bonaparte, for the +sake of a human being’s destruction, should have been deeply moved and +compelled to retire to his bed, is a thing barely credible, though it is +true, and I cannot confess it without being ashamed of myself. + +“On the night before the 21st of January I could not close my eyes, and +yet I could not explain to myself the cause of this unusual excitement. +I rose up early and ran everywhere to and fro where crowds had gathered. +I wondered at, or much more I despised, the weakness of those forty +thousand National Guards, of which the nineteenth part were practically +the assistants of the executioner. At the gate of St. Denis I met +Santerre; a numerous staff followed him. I could have cut off his ears. +I spat down before him--it was all I could do. In my opinion, the Duke +d’Orleans would have filled his place better. He had set his eyes on a +crown, and, as every one knows, such a motive overcomes much hesitancy. + +“Following the Boulevards, I came to the Place de la Revolution. The +guillotine, a new invention, I had not yet seen. A cold perspiration +ran over me. Near me stood a stranger, who attributed my uneasiness and +pallor to some special interest on my part for the king’s fate. ‘Do not +be alarmed,’ said he, ‘he is not going to die; the Convention is only +glad to exhibit its power, and at the foot of the scaffold the king will +find his letters of pardon.’ ‘In this case,’ said I, ‘the members of the +Convention are not far from their own ruin, and could a guilty man have +more deserved his fate than they? Whoever attacks a lion, and desires +not to be destroyed by it, must not wound but kill on the spot.’ + +“A hollow, confused noise was heard. It was the royal victim. I pushed +forward, making way with my elbows, and being pushed myself. All my +efforts to come closer were fruitless. Suddenly the noise of drums +broke upon the gloomy silence of the crowd. ‘This is the signal for +his freedom,’ said the stranger. ‘It will fall back on the head of +his murderers,’ answered I; ‘half a crime in a case like this is but +weakness.’ + +“A moment’s stillness followed. Something heavy fell on the scaffold. +This sound went through my heart. + +“I inquired of a gendarme the cause of this sound. ‘The axe has fallen,’ +said he. ‘The king is not saved then?’ ‘He is dead.’ ‘He is dead!’ + +“For ten times at least I repeated the words ‘He is dead.’ + +“For a few moments I remained unconscious. Without knowing by whom, +I was carried along by a crowd, and found myself on the Quai des +Theatines, but could say nothing, except ‘He is dead.’ + +“Entirely bewildered, I went home, but a good hour elapsed before I +fully recovered my senses.” [Footnote: See “Edinburgh Quarterly Review,” + 1830.] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN. + + +The king’s execution was the signal-fire which announced to the +horrified world the beginning of the reign of terror, and told Europe +that in France the throne had been torn down, and in its stead the +guillotine erected. Yes, the guillotine alone now ruled over France; the +days of moderation, of the Girondists, had passed away; the terrorists, +named also men of the Mountain, on account of the high seats they +occupied in the Convention, had seized the reins of power, and now +controlled the course of events. + +Everywhere, in every province, in every city, the blood-red standard of +the revolution was lifted up; might had become law; death was the rule, +and in lieu of the boasted liberty of conscience was tyranny. Who dared +think otherwise than the terrorists, who presumed to doubt the measures +of the Convention, was a criminal who, in the name of the one and +indivisible republic, was to be punished with death; whose head must +fall, for he had cherished thoughts which agreed not with the schemes of +the revolutionists. + +How in these days of agitation and anguish Josephine rejoiced at her +good fortune, that she had not to tremble for her husband’s life; that +she was away from the crater of the revolution which raged in Paris, and +daily claimed so many victims! + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was still with the army. He had risen from rank +to rank; and when, in May, General Custine was deposed by the Committee +of Public Safety from the command of the Northern army, Alexandre de +Beauharnais, who was then chief of the general’s staff of this army, was +appointed in his place as commanding general of the Army of the Rhine; +and the important work now to be achieved was to debar the besieging +Prussians and Austrians from recapturing Mayence. The Committee of +Public Safety had dismissed General Custine from his post, because +he had not pressed on with sufficient speed to the rescue of Mayence, +according to the judgment of these new rulers of France, who wanted from +Paris to decide all military matters, and who demanded victories whilst +too often refusing the means necessary for victory. + +General de Beauharnais was to turn to good what General Custine, +according to the opinion of these gentlemen of the Convention, had +failed to do. This was an important and highly significant order, and to +leave it unfulfilled was to excite the anger of the Committee of Safety; +it was simply to deserve death. + +General de Beauharnais knew this well, but he shrank not back from the +weighty and dangerous situation in which he was placed. To his country +belonged his life, all his energies; and it was to him of equal +importance whether his head fell on the battle-field or on the scaffold; +in either case it would fall for his country; he would do his duty, and +his country might be satisfied with him. + +In this enthusiastic love for country, De Beauharnais accepted +cheerfully the offered command of the Army of the Rhine as +general-in-chief, and he prepared himself to march to the rescue of +besieged Mayence. + +Whilst General de Beauharnais was on the French frontier, Josephine +trembled with anxious misgivings. The new dignity of her husband filled +her with fear, for she multiplied the dangers which surrounded him and +his family, for now the eyes of the terrorists were fixed on him. An +unfortunate move, an unsuccessful war operation, could excite the wrath +of these men of power, and send Beauharnais to the guillotine. It +was well known that he belonged not to the Mountain party, but to the +moderate republicans, to the Girondists; and as the Girondists were now +incarcerated, as the Committee of Safety had brought accusations against +them, and declared them guilty of treason toward France, it was also +easy, if it pleased the terrorists, to find a flaw in the character of +General Beauharnais, and to bring accusations against him as had been +done against the Girondists. + +Such were Josephine’s fears, which made her tremble for her husband, +for her children. She wished at least to secure these from the impending +danger, and to save and shield them from the guillotine. Her friend, the +Princess von Hohenzollern, was on the eve of leaving for England with +her brother the Prince von Salm, and Josephine was anxious to seize this +opportunity to save her children. She brought Eugene and Hortense to the +princess, who was now waiting in St. Martin, in the vicinity of St. Pol, +in the county of Artois, expecting a favorable moment for departure; for +already was the emigration watched, already it was considered a crime +to leave France. With bitter tears of grief, and yet glad to know her +children safe, Josephine bade farewell to her little ones, and then +returned to Paris, so as to excite no suspicion through her absence. But +no sooner had General Beauharnais heard of Josephine’s plan to send her +children from the country, than in utmost speed he dispatched to his +wife a courier bearing a letter in which he decidedly opposed the +departure of the children, for by this emigration his own position would +be imperilled and his character made suspicious. + +Josephine sighed, and, with tears in her eyes, submitted to her +husband’s will; she sent a faithful messenger to St. Martin to bring +back Eugene and Hortense. But the Princess von Hohenzollern would not +trust the children to any one; she had sworn to her friend Josephine to +watch over them, never to let them go out of her sight, and she wished +to keep her oath until such time as she could restore the children to +their mother. She therefore returned herself to Paris, to bring back +Eugene and Hortense to Josephine; and this journey, so short and so +insignificant in itself, was nevertheless the occasion that the Princess +von Hohenzollern remained in France; that her brother, the Prince von +Salm, should mount the scaffold! The favorable moment for emigration was +lost through this delay; the journey to Paris had attracted the eyes of +the authorities to the doings of the princess and of her brother, the +contemplated journey to England was discovered, and the incarceration of +the Prince von Salm and of his sister was the natural consequence. A few +months after, the prince paid with his life the contemplated attempt to +migrate; his sister, the Princess von Hohenzollern, was saved from the +guillotine through accident. + +Meanwhile, Josephine had at least her children safely returned, and, +in the quietude and solitude of Fontainebleau, she awaited with beating +heart the future developments of events; she saw increase every day the +dangers which threatened her, her family, and, above all things, her +husband. + +Mayence was still besieged by the Austrian and Prussian forces. General +Beauharnais had not completed the organization of his army so as to +press onward to the rescue of the besieged, whose perils increased every +day. But whilst, in unwearied activity, he urged on the preliminary +operations, a courier arrived, who brought to the general his +appointment to the office of minister of war, and required his immediate +presence in Paris, there to assume his new dignity. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had the courage to answer with a declination +the office. He entreated the Convention to make another choice, for +he considered himself more competent to serve his country against the +coalition of tyrants, among his companions-in-arms, than to be minister +of war amid revolution’s storms. + +The Convention pardoned his refusal for the sake of the patriotic +sentiments which he had expressed. But this refusal was to have, not +only for the general, but also for all the aristocracy of France, the +most fatal results. Some of the most fanatical members of the Mountain +party ever considered as an audacious resistance to the commands of +the Convention this refusal of Alexandre de Beauharnais, to accept the +office which the highest powers of the land offered him. + +It was a nobleman, an aristocrat, who had dared oppose the democratic +Convention, and hence the welcome pretext was found to begin the +long-wished-for conflict against the aristocrats. One of the deputies of +the Mountain made the motion to remove from all public offices, from +the army, from the cabinet, all noblemen. Another accused General de +Beauharnais, as well as all officers from amongst the nobility, of +moderate tendencies, and requested at the same time that a list of all +officers from the nobility, and now in the army, should be laid before +the Convention. + +But on this very day a letter from the general reached the Convention. +In this letter he expressed the hope of a speedy rescue of Mayence; he +announced that he had completed the organization of his forces and +all his preparations, and that soon from the camps of Vicembourg and +Lauterburg he would advance against Mayence. + +This letter was received by the Convention with loud acclamations, and +so took possession of all minds that they passed over the motion of +hostility against the nobility, to the order of the day. + +Had General de Beauharnais accomplished his purpose--had he succeeded in +relieving the garrison besieged in Mayence, now sorely pressed, and +in delivering them, this horrible decree which caused so much blood to +flow, this decree against the nobility, would never have appeared, and +France would have been spared many scenes of cruelty and horror. + +Beauharnais hoped still to effect the rescue. Trusty messengers from +Mayence had brought him the news that the garrison held on courageously +and bravely, and that they could hold their ground a few days longer. +Dispatch was therefore necessary; and if in a few days they could be +re-enforced, then they would be saved, provided the other generals +should advance with their troops in time to attack the Austrian and +Prussian forces lying round about Mayence. The French had already +succeeded in obtaining some advantages over the enemy; and General de +Beauharnais could triumphantly announce to the Convention that, on the +22d of July, a warm encounter with the Prussians had taken place at St. +Anna’s chapel, and that he had forced the Prussians to a retreat with +considerable loss. + +The Convention received this news with jubilant shouts, and already +trusted in the sure triumph of the French armies against the united +forces of Prussia and Austria. If in these days of joyous excitement +some one had dared renew the motion to dismiss Beauharnais from his +command because he was a nobleman, the mover would undoubtedly have been +considered an enemy of his country. + +How much attention in these happy days was paid to the general’s +wife--how busy were even the most fanatical republicans, the dreaded +ones of the Mountain, to flatter her, to give expression to their +enthusiastic praises of the general who was preparing for the arms of +the republic so glorious a triumph! + +Josephine now came every day to be present in the gallery at the +sessions of the Convention, and her gracious countenance radiated a +cheerful smile when the minister of war communicated to the Assembly +the newly-arrived dispatches which announced fresh advantages or closer +approaches of General Beauharnais. By degrees a new confidence filled +the heart of Josephine, and the gloomy forebodings, which so long had +tormented her, began to fade away. + +In the session of the 28th of July, Barrere, with a grave, solemn +countenance, mounted the tribune and with a loud, sad voice announced to +the Convention, in the name of the Committee of Safety, that a courier +had just arrived bringing the news that, on the 23d of July, Mayence, in +virtue of an unjust capitulation, had fallen. + +A loud, piercing shriek, which issued from the gallery, broke the +silence with which the Assembly had received this news. It was Josephine +who had uttered this cry--Josephine who was carried away fainting from +the hall. She awoke from her long swoon only to shed a torrent of tears, +to press her children to her heart, as if desirous to screen them from +the perils of death, which now, said her own forebodings, were pressing +on from all sides. + +Josephine was not deceived: this calamitous news, all at once, changed +the whole aspect of affairs, gave to the Convention and to the republic +another attitude, and threw its dark shadows over the unfortunate +general who had undertaken to save Mayence, and had not been able to +fulfil his word. + +Surely this was not his fault, for General Dubayet had capitulated +before it had been possible for Beauharnais to accomplish the rescue. No +one therefore ventured to accuse him, but undeserved misfortune always +remains a misfortune in the eyes of those who had counted upon success; +and the Convention could never forgive the generals from whom they had +expected so much, and who had not met these expectations. + +These generals had all been men of the aristocracy. As there was +no reason to accuse them on account of their unsuccessful military +operations, it was necessary to attack them with other weapons, and +seek a spot where they could be wounded. This spot was their name, their +ancestors, who in the eyes of the republican Convention rose up like +embodied crimes behind their progeny, to accuse the guilty. + +The Jacobin Club, a short time after the capture of Mayence, began again +in an infuriated session the conflict against the nobility, and the +fanatical Hebert moved: + +“All the noblemen who serve in the army, in the magistracy, in any +public office, must be driven away and dismissed. The people must +require this, the people themselves! They must go in masses to the +Convention, and after exposing the crimes and the treachery of the +aristocrats, must insist on their expulsion. The people must not leave +the Convention, it must remain in permanent session, there until it is +assured that its will is carried out.” + +The multitude with loud, jubilant tones cried, “Yes. yes, that is what +we want, let us go to the Convention! No more nobility! the nobles are +our murderers!” + +The next day, the Jacobins, accompanied by thousands of shouting women +and infuriated men, went to the Convention to make known its will in the +name of the people. The Convention received their petition and decreed +the exile and the dissolution of the nobility, and delivered to the +punishment of the law the guilty subject who would dare use the name of +noble. + +General de Beauharnais saw full well the blow aimed at him, and at all +the officers from the nobility in the army; he foresaw that they would +not stop at these measures; that soon he and his companions of fate +would be accused and charged with treason, as had been already done to +General Custine, and to so many others who had paid with their lives +their tried loyalty to the republic. He wanted to anticipate the +storm, and sent in his resignation. As the Convention left his petition +unanswered, he renewed it, and as it remained still ineffective, he +gladly, forced to this measure by sickness, transferred his command +to General Landremont. The Convention had then to grant him leave of +absence, and, as it maintained him in his rank, they ordered him back to +Paris. + +At last Josephine saw her husband again, for whom during the last +few months she had suffered so much anxiety and pain. At last she was +enabled to bring to her children the father for whom every evening they +had prayed God to guard him from foes abroad and from foes at home. As a +gift sent again by Heaven, she received her husband and entreated him to +save himself with his family from revolution’s yawning abyss, which was +ready to swallow them all, and to go away with his own into a foreign +land, as his brother had done, who for some months past had been in +Coblentz with the Prince d’Artois. + +But Alexandre de Beanharnais rejected with something like anger these +tearful supplications of his wife. He was not blinded to the dangers +which threatened him, but he wanted to meet them bravely; true to the +oath he had taken to the republic and to his country, he wished as a +dutiful son to remain near her, even if his allegiance had to be paid +with his death. + +Josephine, on the bosom of her husband, wept hot, burning tears as he +communicated to her his irrevocable decision not to leave France, but in +the depths of her heart she experienced a noble satisfaction to find her +husband so heroic and so brave, and, offering him her hand, said with +tears in her eyes: + +“It is well--we remain; and if we must go to the scaffold, we will at +least die together.” + +The general, with his wife and children, retired to his small property, +Ferte-Beauharnais, where he longed to obtain rest during a few happy +months of quietude. + +But the fearful storms which had agitated France in her innermost life, +now raged so violently that each household, each family, trembled; there +was neither peace nor rest in the home nor in the hearts of men. + +The Convention, threatened from outside by failures and defeats--for the +capture of Mayence by the Prussians and Austrians had been followed by +the capture of Toulon in September by the English--the Convention wanted +to consolidate at least its internal authority, and to terrify by severe +measures those who, on account of the misfortunes on the frontiers, +might hope for a fresh change of affairs in the interior, and who might +help it to pass. + +Consequently the Convention issued a decree ordering all dismissed +or destitute soldiers to return in four-and-twenty hours to their +respective municipalities, under pain of ten years in chains, and at the +same time forbade them to enter Paris or to approach the capital nearer +than ten leagues. + +A second decree ordered the formation of a revolutionary army in Paris, +to which was assigned the duty of carrying out the decrees of the +Convention. + +Finally a third decree, which appeared on the 17th of September, ordered +the arrest and punishment of all suspected persons. + +This decree thus characterized the suspected ones: “All those who, by +their conduct, their relations, their discourses, their writings, had +shown themselves the adherents of tyranny, of federalism, the enemies +of liberty, much more all the ex-nobles, men, women, fathers, brothers, +sons or daughters, sisters or brothers, or agents of the migrated ones, +all who had not invariably exhibited and proved their adherence to the +revolution.” + +With this decree the days of terror had reached their deepest gloom; +with this decree began the wild, bloody hunting down of aristocrats and +ci-devants; then began suspicions, accusations which needed no +evidence to bring the accused to the guillotine; then were renewed +the dragonnades of the days of Louis XIV., only that now, instead of +Protestants, the nobles were hunted down, and hunted down to death. The +night of the St. Bartholomew, the night of the murderess Catharine de +Medicis and of her mad son Charles IX., found now in France its cruel +and bloody repetition; only this night of horror was prolonged during +the day, and shrank not back from the light. + +The sun beamed upon the pools of blood which flowed through the streets +of Paris, and packs of ferocious dogs in large numbers lay in the +streets, and fed upon this blood, which imparted to these once tamed +creatures their natural wildness. The sun beamed on the scaffold, +which, like a threatening monster, lifted itself upon the Place de la +Revolution, and the sun beamed upon the horrible axe, which every day +out off so many noble heads, and ever glittering, ever menacing, rose up +from the midst of blood and death. + +The sun also shone upon the day in which Marie Antoinette, like her +husband, ascended the scaffold, to rest at last in the grave from all +her dishonor and from the agonies of the last years. + +This day was the 16th of October, 1793. For the last four months, Marie +Antoinette had longed for this day as for a long-expected bliss; four +months ago she had been led from the prison of the Temple into the +Conciergerie, and she knew that the prisoners of the Conciergerie only +left it to obtain the freedom which men do not give, but which God gives +to the suffering ones, the freedom of death. + +Marie Antoinette longed for this liberty, and for this deliverance of +death. How distant behind were the days of happiness, of joyous youth, +far behind in infinite legendary distance! How long since this tall, +grave figure, with its proud and yet affable countenance, had lost +all similarity to the charming Queen Marie Antoinette, around whom had +fluttered the genii of beauty, of youth, of love, of happiness; who once +in Trianon had represented the idyl of a pastoral queen; who, in the +exuberance of joy, had visited in disguise the public opera-ball; who +imagined herself so secure amid the French people as to believe she +could dispense with the protection of “Madame Etiquette;” who then was +applauded by all France with jubilant acclamations, and who now was +persecuted with mad anger! + +No, the queen of that day, Marie Antoinette, who, in the golden halls of +Versailles and of the Tuileries, received the homage of all France, and +who, with smiling grace and face radiant with happiness, responded to +all this homage; she had no resemblance with Louis Capet’s widow, who +now stands before the tribunal of the revolution, and gravely, firmly +gives her answers to the proposed questions. + +She has also made her toilet for this day; but how different is this +toilet of the Widow Capet from that which once Marie Antoinette had worn +to be admired! + +Then could Marie Antoinette, the frivolous, fortunate daughter of bliss, +shut herself up in her boudoir for long hours with her confidante the +milliner, Madame Bertier, to devise some new ball-dress, some new fichu, +some new ornament for her robes; then could Leonard, for this queen with +her wondrous blond hair, tax all the wealth of his science and of his +imagination; to invent continually new coiffures and new head-dresses +wherewith to adorn the beautiful head of the Queen Marie Antoinette, on +whose towering curls clustered tufts of white plumes; or else diminutive +men-of-war unfurled the net-work of their sails; or else, for variety’s +sake, on that royal head was arranged a garden, a parterre adorned with +flowers and fruits, with butterflies and birds of paradise. + +The Widow Capet needs no milliner now; she needs no friseur now for +her toilette. Her tall, slim figure is draped in a black woollen dress, +which the republic at her request has granted her to mourn her beheaded +husband; her neck and shoulders, once the admiration of France, are now +covered with a white muslin kerchief, which in pity Bault, her attendant +at the jail, has given her. Her hair is uncovered, and falls in long +natural curls on either side of her transparent, blanched cheeks. This +hair needs no powder now; the long sleepless nights, the anxious days, +have covered it with their powder forever, and the thirty-eight-year-old +widow of Louis Capet wears on her head the gray hairs of a +seventy-year-old woman. + +In this toilet, Marie Antoinette stands before the tribunal of the +revolution from the 6th to the 13th day of October. There is nothing +royal about her, nothing but her look and the proud attitude of her +figure. + +And the people who fill the galleries in closely-packed masses, and +who weary not to gaze on the queen in her humiliation, in her toilet +of anguish, the people claim constantly that Marie Antoinette will rise +from her rush-woven seat; that she will allow herself to be stared at by +these masses of people, whom curiosity and not compassion have brought +there. + +Once, as at the call from the public in the galleries, she rose up, the +queen sighed: “Ah, will not the people soon be tired of my sufferings?” + [Footnote: Marie Antoinette’s own words.--See Goncourt, “Histoire de +Marie Antoinette,” p. 404.] + +Another time her dry, blanched lips murmured, “I thirst.” But no one +near her dares have compassion on this sigh of agony from the queen; +each looks embarrassed at his neighbor; not one dares give a glass of +water to the thirsty woman. + +One of the gendarmes has at last the courage to do so, and Marie +Antoinette thanks him with a look which brings tears in the eyes of the +gendarme, and which may perchance cause his death to-morrow under the +guillotine as a traitor! + +The gendarmes who guard the queen have alone the courage to show pity! + +One night, as she is led from the hall of trial to her prison, Marie +Antoinette becomes so exhausted, so overpowered, that staggering, she +murmurs, “I can see no longer! I can go no farther! I cannot move!” + +One of the gendarmes walking alongside of her offers his arm, and +supported by it Marie Antoinette totters up the three stone steps which +lead into the prison. + +At last, at four o’clock in the morning, on the 15th of August, the +jury have given their verdict. It runs: “Death!--execution by the +guillotine!” + +Marie Antoinette has heard the verdict with unmoved composure, whilst +the noise from the excited crowd in the galleries is suddenly hushed as +by a magic spell, and even the faces of the infuriated fish women turn +pale! + +Marie Antoinette alone has remained calm; grave and cool she rises from +her seat and herself opens the balustrade to leave the hall and return +to her prison. + +And then at last, on the morning of the 16th of October, her sorrows +will end, and Marie Antoinette can find refuge in the grave! Her soul is +almost joyous and serene; she has suffered so much, and for her to sink +into death is truly blessedness! + +She has passed the undisturbed hours of the night in writing to her +sister-in-law, Madame Elizabeth, and this letter is also the queen’s +testament. But the widow of Louis Capet has no riches, no treasures, no +property to will; she has nothing left which belongs to her--nothing but +her love, her tears, her farewell salutations. These she leaves behind +to all those who have loved her. She takes leave of her relatives, her +brothers and sisters, and cries out to them a farewell. + +“I had friends,” she continues; “the thought of being forever separated +from them, and your grief for my death, are my deepest sorrow; you will +at least know that to the last moment I have remembered you.” + +Then, when Marie Antoinette has finished this letter, some of whose +characters here and there are disfigured by her tears, she thinks of +leaving to her children a last token of remembrance--one which the +executioner’s hand has not desecrated. + +The only ornament which remains is her long hair, whose silver-gray +locks are the tearful history of her sufferings. + +Marie Antoinette with her own hands despoils herself of this last +ornament; she cuts off her long hair behind the head, so as to leave +it as a last token to her children, to her relatives and friends. Then, +after having taken her spiritual farewell of life, she prepares herself +for the last great ceremony of her existence, for death. + +She feels exhausted, weary unto death, and she strengthens herself for +this last toilsome journey, that she may worthily pass through it. + +Marie Antoinette needs food, and with courageous mind she eats a +chicken’s wing which has been brought to her. After having eaten, she +makes her last toilet, the toilet of death. + +The wife of the jailer, at the queen’s request, gives her one of her own +chemises, and Marie Antoinette puts it on. Then she clothes herself +with the garments which she has worn during her days of trial before the +tribunal of the revolution, only over the black woollen dress, which she +has often mended and patched with her own hand, she puts on a mantle +of white needlework. Around her neck she ties a small plain kerchief of +white muslin, and, as it is not allowed her to mount the scaffold +with uncovered head, she puts on it the round linen hood which the +peasant-women used to wear. Black stockings cover her feet, and over +them she draws shoes of black woollen stuff. + +Her toilet is now ended--earthly things have passed away! Ready to meet +death, the queen lays herself down on her bed and sleeps. + +She still sleeps when she is notified that a priest is there, ready to +come in, if she will confess. + +But Marie Antoinette has already unveiled her heart to God; she will +have none of these priests of reason, whom the republic has ordained, +after having exiled or murdered with the guillotine the priests of the +Church. + +“As I cannot do as I please,” she has written to Madame Elizabeth, in +her farewell letter, “so must I endure it if a priest is sent to me; but +I now declare that I will tell him not a word, that I will consider him +entirely as a stranger to me.” + +And Marie Antoinette held her word. She forbids not the priest Girard +to come in, but she answers in the negative when he asks her if she will +receive from him the consolations of religion. + +She paces her small cell to and fro, to warm herself, for her feet are +stiff with cold. As seven o’clock strikes, the door opens. + +It is the executioner of Paris, Samson, who enters. + +A slight tremor runs through the queen’s frame. “You come very early, +sir,” murmurs she, “could you not delay somewhat?” + +As Samson replies in the negative, Marie Antoinette assumes again +a calm, cold attitude. She drinks without any reluctance the cup +of chocolate which has been brought to her from a neighboring cafe. +Proudly, calmly, she allows her hands to be bound with strong ropes +behind her back. + +At eleven o’clock she finally leaves her room to descend the corridor, +and to mount into the wagon which waits for her before the gate of the +Conciergerie. + +No one guides her on the way; no one bids her a last farewell; no one +shows a sympathizing or sad countenance to the departing one. + +Alone, between two rows of gendarmes posted on both sides of the +corridor, the queen walks forward; behind her is Samson, holding in +his hand the end of the rope; the priest and the two assistants of the +executioner follow him. + +On the path of Death--such is the suite of the queen, the daughter of an +emperor! + +Perchance at this hour thousands were on their knees to offer to God +their heart-felt prayers for Marie Antoinette, whom in the silence +of the soul they still call “the queen;” perchance many thousand +compassionate hearts pour out warm tears of sympathy for her who now +ascends into the miserable wagon, and sits on a plank which ropes have +made firm to both sides of the vehicle. But those who pray and weep have +retired into the solitude of their rooms, for God alone must receive +their sighs and see their tears. The eyes which follow the queen on +her last journey must not weep; the words which are shouted at her must +betray no compassion. + +Paris knows that this is the hour of the queen’s execution, and the +Parisian crowd is ready, it is waiting. In the streets, in the windows +of the houses, on the roofs, the people have stationed themselves in +enormous masses; they fill the whole Place de la Revolution with their +dark, destructive forms. + +Now resound the drums of the National Guard posted before the +Conciergerie. The large white horse, which draws the chariot in which +Marie Antoinette sits backward, at the side of the priest, is driven +onward by the man who swings on its back. Behind her in the wagon is +Samson and his assistants. + +The queen’s face is white; all blood has left her cheeks and lips, but +her eyes are red; they have wept so much, unfortunate queen! She weeps +not now. Not one tear dims her eye, which pensively and calmly soars +above the crowd, then is lifted up to the very roofs of the houses, then +again is slowly lowered, and seems to stare over the human heads away +into infinite distance. + +Calm and pensive as the eye is the queen’s countenance, her lips +are nearly closed, no nervous movement on her face tells whether she +suffers, whether she feels, whether she notices those tens of thousands +of eyes which are fixed on her, cold, curious, sarcastic! And yet Marie +Antoinette sees every thing! She sees yonder woman who lifts up her +child; she sees how this child with his tiny hands sends a kiss to the +queen! Suddenly a nervous agitation passes over the queen’s features, +her lips tremble, and her eyes are obscured with a tear! This first, +this single token of human sympathy has revived the heart of the queen +and awakened her from her torpor. + +But the people are bent upon this, that Marie Antoinette shall not reach +the end of her journey with this last comfort of pity. They press on, +howling and shouting, scorning and jubilant, nearer and nearer to the +wagon; they sing sarcastic songs on Madame Veto, they clap hands, and +point at her with the finger of scorn. + +She, however, is calm; her look, cold and indifferent, runs over the +crowd; only once it flames up with a last angry flash as she passes +by the Palais Royal, where Philippe Egalite, the ex-Duke d’Orleans, +resides, as she reads the inscription which he had placed at the gate of +his palace. + +At noon the chariot reaches at last its destination. It stops at the +foot of the scaffold, and Marie Antoinette alights from the wagon, and +then calm and erect ascends the steps of the scaffold. + +Her lips have not opened once on this awful journey; they now have no +word of complaint, of farewell! The only farewell which she has yet to +say on earth is told by her look--by a look which is slowly directed +yonder to the Tuileries--it is the farewell to past memories--it deepens +the pallor on the cheeks, it opens her lips to a painful sigh. She then +bows her head--a momentary, breathless silence follows. Samson lifts up +the white head, which once had been the head of the Queen of France, and +the people cry and shout, “Long live the republic!” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THE ARREST. + + +Uninterruptedly had the guillotine for the last three months of the +year 1793 continued its destructive work of murder, and the noblest +and worthiest heads had fallen under this reaper of Death. No personal +merit, no nobility of character, no age, no youth, could hope to escape +the death-instrument of the revolution when a noble name stood up as +accuser. Before this accuser every service was considered as nothing; +it was enough to be an aristocrat, a ci-devant, to be suspected, to be +dragged as a criminal before the tribunal of the revolution, and to be +condemned. + +The execution of the queen was followed by that of the Girondists; and +this brilliant array of noble and great men was followed in the next +month by names no less noble, no less great. It was an infuriated chase +of the aristocrats as well as of the officers, of all the military +persons who, in the unfortunate days of Toulon and of Mayence, had been +in the army, and who had been dismissed, or whose resignation had been +accepted. + +The aristocrats were tracked in their most secret recesses, and not +only were they punished, but also those who dared screen them from the +avenging hand of the republic. The officers were recognized under +every disguise, and the very fact that they had disguised themselves or +remained silent as to their true character was a crime great enough to +be punished with the guillotine. + +More than twenty generals were imprisoned during the last months of the +year 1793, and many more paid with their lives for crimes which they had +never committed, and which had existence only in the heated imagination +of their accusers. Thus had General Houchard fallen; he was followed +in the first days of the new year of 1794 by the Generals Luckner and +Biron. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had served under Luckner, he had been Biron’s +adjutant, he had been united with General Houchard in the unfortunate +attempt to relieve Mayence. It was therefore natural that he should be +noticed and espied. Besides which, he was an aristocrat, a relative of +many of the emigres, the brother of the Count de Beauharnais, who was +now residing in Coblentz with the Count d’Artois, and it had not been +forgotten what an important part Alexandre de Beauharnais had played +in the National Assembly; it was well known that he belonged to the +moderate party, that he had been the friend of the Girondists. + +Had the Convention wished to forget it, the informers were there to +remind them of it. Alexandre de Beauharnais was denounced as suspected, +and this denunciation was followed, in the first days of January, by an +arrest. He was taken to Paris, and at first shut up in the Luxemburg, +where already many of his companions-in-arms were incarcerated. + +Josephine was not in Ferte-Beauharnais when the emissaries of the +republic came to arrest her husband. She was just then in Paris, whither +she had gone to seek protection and assistance for Alexandre at the +hands of influential acquaintances; in Paris she learned the arrest of +her husband. + +The misfortune, which she had so long expected and foreseen, was now +upon her and ready to crush her and the future of her children. Her +husband was arrested--that is to say, he was condemned to die. + +At this thought Josephine rose up like a lioness; the indolence, the +dreamy quietude of the creole, had suddenly vanished, and Josephine was +now a resolute, energetic woman, anxious to risk every thing, to try +every thing, so as to save her husband, the father of her children. She +now knew no timidity, no trembling, no fear, no horror; every thing +in her was decision of purpose; keen, daring action. Letters, visits, +petitions, and even personal supplications, every thing was tried; there +was no humiliation before which she shrank. For long hours she sat in +the anterooms of the tribunal of the revolution, of the ministers who, +however much they despised the aristocrats, imitated their manners, +and made the people wait in the vestibule, even as the ministers of +the tyrant had done; with tears, with all the eloquence of love, she +entreated those men of blood and terror to give her back her husband, or +at least not to condemn him before he had been accused, and to furnish +him with the means of defence. + +But those new lords and rulers of France had no heart for compassion; +Robespierre, Marat, Danton, could not be moved by the tears which a wife +could shed for an accused husband. They had already witnessed so much +weeping, listened to so many complaints, to so many cries of distress, +their eyes were not open for such things, their ears heard not. + +France was diseased, and only by drawing away the bad blood could she +be restored to health, could she be made sound, could she rise up again +with the strength of youth! And Marat, Danton, Robespierre, were the +physicians who were healing France, who were restoring her to health +by thus horribly opening her veins. Marat and Danton murdered from +bloodthirsty hatred, from misanthropy and vengeance; Robespierre +murdered through principle, from the settled fanatical conviction, that +France was lost if all the old corrupt blood was not cleansed away from +her veins, so as to replenish them with youthful, vitalizing blood. + +Robespierre was therefore inexorable, and Robespierre now ruled over +France! He was the dictator to whom every thing had to bow; he was at +the head of the tribunal of revolution; he daily signed hundreds of +death-warrants; and this selfsame man, who once in Arras had resigned +his office of judge because his hand could not be induced to sign +the death-warrant of a convicted criminal [Footnote: See “Maximilian +Robespierre,” by Theodore Mundt, vol. i.]--this man, who shed tears over +a tame dove which the shot of a hunter had killed, could, with heart +unmoved, with composed look, sit for long hours near the guillotine on +the tribune of the revolution, and gaze with undimmed eyes on the heads +of his victims falling under the axe. + +He was now at the summit of his power; France lay bleeding, trembling +at his feet; fear had silenced even his enemies; no one dared touch +the dreaded man whose mere contact was death; whose look, when coldly, +calmly fixed on the face of any man, benumbed his heart as if he had +read his sentence of death in the blue eyes of Robespierre. + +At the side of Robespierre sat the terrorists Fouquier-Tinville and +Marat, to whom murder was a delight, blood-shedding a joy, who with +sarcastic pleasure listened unmoved to the cries, to the tearful prayers +of mothers, wives, children, of those sentenced to death, and who fed on +their tears and on their despair. + +With such men at the head of affairs it was natural that the reign of +terror should still be increasing in power, and that with it the number +of the captives in the prisons should increase. + +In the month of January, 1794, the list of the incarcerated within the +prisons of Paris ran up to the number of 4,659; in the month of February +the number rose up to 5,892; in the beginning of April to 7,541; and at +the end of the same month it was reckoned that there were in Paris +eight thousand prisoners. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire de la Revolution +Francaise,” vol. vi., p. 41] + +The greater the number of prisoners, the more zealous was the tribunal +of the revolution to get rid of them; and with satisfaction these judges +of blood saw the new improvements made in the guillotine, and which not +only caused the machine to work faster, but also prevented the axe from +losing its edge too soon by the sundering of so many necks. + +“It works well,” exclaimed Fouquier-Tinville, triumphantly; “to-day we +have fifty sentenced. The heads fall like poppy-heads!” + +And these fifty heads falling like poppy-heads, were not enough for his +bloodthirstiness. + +“It must work better still,” cried he; “in the next decade, I must have +at least four hundred and fifty poppy-heads!” + +And then, as if inspired by a joyous and happy thought, his gloomy +countenance became radiant with a grinning laughter, and, rubbing his +hands with delight, he continued: “Yes, I must have four hundred and +fifty! Then, if we work on so perseveringly, we will soon write over +our prison-gates, ‘House to let!’” [Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice +Josephine.”] + +They worked on perseveringly, and the vehicles which carried the +condemned to execution rolled every morning with a fresh freight through +the streets of Paris, where the guillotine, with its glaring axe, +awaited them. + +The month of April, as already said, had brought the number of prisoners +in Paris to eight thousand; the month of April had therefore more +executions to engrave with its bloody pen into the annals of history. +On the 20th of April fell on the Place de la Revolution the heads of +fourteen members of the ex-Parliament of Paris; the next day followed +the Duke de Villeroy, the Admiral d’Estaing, the former Minister of War +Latour du Pin, the Count de Bethune, the President de Nicolai. One day +after, the well-laden wagon drove from the Conciergerie to the Place de +la Revolution; in it were three members of the Constituent Assembly, +and to have belonged to it was the only crime they were accused of. Near +these three sat the aged Malesherbes, with his sister; the Marquis de +Chateaubriand, with his wife; the Duchess de Grammont, and Du Chatelet. +It will be seen that the turn for women had now come; for those women +who were now led to the execution had committed no other crime than to +be the wives or the relatives of emigrants or of accused persons, than +to bear names which had shone for centuries in the history of France. + +Josephine also had an ancient aristocratic name; she also was related +to the migrated ones, the wife of an accused, of a prisoner! And she +wearied the tribunal of the revolution constantly with petitions, with +visits, with complaints. They were tired of these molestations, and it +was so easy, so convenient to shield one’s self against them! There was +nothing else to do but to arrest Josephine; for once a prisoner, she +could no longer--in anterooms, where she would wait for hours; in the +street before the house-door, where she would stand, despite rains and +winds--she could no longer trouble the rulers of France, and beseech +them with tears and prayers for her husband’s freedom. The prisoner +could no more write petitions, or move heaven and earth for her +husband’s sake. + +The Viscountess de Beauharnais was arrested. On the 20th of April, as +she happened to be at the proper authority’s office to obtain a pass +according to the new law, which ordered all ci-devants to leave Paris +in ten days, Josephine was arrested and led into the Convent of the +Carmelites, which for two years had served as a prison for the bloody +republic, and from which so many of its victims had issued to mount the +wagon which led them to the guillotine. + +Amid this wretchedness there was one sweet joy. Alexandre de Beauharnais +had no sooner heard of the arrest of his wife, than he asked as a favor +from the tribunal of the revolution to be removed into the same prison +where his wife was. In an incomprehensible fit of merciful humor his +prayer was granted; he was transferred to the Convent of the Carmelites, +and if the husband and wife could not share the same cell, yet they were +within the same walls, and could daily (through the turnkeys, who had to +be bribed by all manner of means, by promises, by gold, as much as could +be gathered together among the prisoners) hear the news. + +Josephine was united to her husband. She received daily from him news +and messages; she could often, in the hours when the prisoners in +separate detachments made their promenades in the yard and in the +garden, meet Alexandre, reach him her hand, whisper low words of trust, +of hope, and speak with him of Eugene and Hortense, of these dear +children who, now deserted by their parents, could hope for protection +and safety only from the faithfulness and love of their governess, +Madame Lanoy. The thought of these darling ones of her heart excited +and troubled Josephine, and all the pride and courage with which she had +armed her heart melted into tears of anxiety and into longings for her +deserted children. + +But Madame Lanoy with the most faithful solicitude watched over the +abandoned ones; she had once sworn to Josephine that if the calamity, +which Josephine had constantly anticipated, should fall upon her and +upon her husband, she would be to Hortense and Eugene a second mother; +she would care for them and protect them as if they were her own +children. And Madame Lanoy kept her promise. + +To place them beyond the dangers which their very name made imminent, +and also perhaps to give by means of the children evidence of the +patriotic sentiments of the parents, Madame Lanoy left with the children +the viscount’s house, where they had hitherto resided, and occupied +with both of them a small shabby house, where she established herself +as seamstress. The little eleven-year-old Hortense, the daughter of the +Citizeness Beauharnais, was now the assistant of the Citizeness Lanoy, +at the trade of seamstress. Eugene was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker; +a leather apron was put on, and then with a plank under his arm, +and carrying a plane in his hand, he went through the streets to the +workshop of the cabinet-maker, and every one lauded the patriotic +sentiments of the Citizeness Lanoy, who tried to educate the brood of +the ex-aristocrats into orderly and moral beings. + +Eugene and Hortense fell rapidly and understandingly into the plan of +their faithful governess; they transformed themselves in their language, +in their dress, in their whole being and appearance, into little +republicans, full of genuine patriotism. Like their cousin, Emile de +Beauharnais, whose mother (the wife of the elder brother of the Viscount +de Beauharnais) had already for a long time languished in prison, they +attended the festivals which had for its object the glorification of the +republic, and, alongside of the Citizeness Lanoy, the little milliner +Hortense followed the procession of her quarter of the city, perhaps +to awaken thereby the good-will of the authorities in favor of her +imprisoned parents. + +Then, when Madame Lanoy thought this good-will had been gained, she +made a step further, and undertook to have the children present to the +Convention a petition for their parents. This petition ran thus: + +“Two innocent children appeal to you, fellow-citizens, for the freedom +of their dear mother--their mother against whom no reproach can be +made but the misfortune of being born in a class from which, as she has +proven, she ever felt completely estranged, for she has ever surrounded +herself with the best patriots, the most distinguished men of the +Mountain. After she had on the 26th of Germinal requested a pass in +order to obey the law, she was arrested on the evening of that day +without knowing the cause. Citizen representatives, you cannot be +guilty of oppressing innocence, patriotism, and virtue. Give back to +us unfortunate children our life. Our youth is not made for suffering.” + Signed: EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS, aged twelve years, and HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS, +aged eleven years. [Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par +Aubenas.] + +To this complaint of two deserted children no more attention was paid +than to the cries of the dove which the hawk carries away in its claws, +but perhaps the innocent touching words of the petition had awakened +compassion in the heart of some father. + +It is true no answer was given to the petition of the children, but the +Citizeness Lanoy was allowed to take the children of the accused twice +a week into the reception-room of the Carmelite Convent, that there they +might see and speak to their mother. + +This was a sweet comfort, an unhoped-for joy, as well to Josephine as to +her husband; for if he was not permitted to come into the lower room and +see the children, yet he now saw them through the eyes of his wife, and +through her he received the wishes of their tender affection. + +What happiness for Josephine, who loved her children with all the +unrestrained fondness of a Creole! what happiness to see her Eugene, her +Hortense, and to be permitted to speak to them! How much they had to say +one to another, how much to communicate one to the other! + +It is true much had to be passed in silence if they would not excite +the anger of the turnkey, who was always present at the meeting of the +children with their mother. Strict orders had been given that Josephine +should never whisper one word to the children, or speak to them of the +events of the day, of what was going on beyond the prison walls. The +least infringement of this rule was to be punished by debarring the +children from having any further conversation with their mother. + +And yet they had so much to say; they needed her advice so much, so as +to know what future steps they might take to accomplish their mother’s +freedom! They had so much to tell to Josephine about relatives and +friends, and above all so much to say about what was going on outside +of the prison! But how bring her news? how speak to their mother? how +receive her message in such a way that the jailer’s ears could not know +what was said? + +Love is full of invention. It turns every thing into subserviency to +its end. Love once turned the dove into a carrier; love made Josephine’s +children find out a new mail-carrier--it made them invent the lapdog +mail. + +Josephine, like all Creoles, had, besides her love for flowers, botany, +and birds, a great fondness for dogs. Never since the earliest days of +her childhood had Josephine been seen in her room, at the promenade, or +in her carriage, without one of these faithful friends and companions of +man, which share with the lords of creation all their good qualities +and virtues, without being burdened with their failings. The love, +the faithfulness, the cunningness of dogs are virtues, wherewith they +successfully rival man, and the dogs boast only of one quality which +amongst men is considered a despicable vice, namely, the canine +humbleness which these animals practise, without egotism, without +calculation, whilst man practises it only when his interest and his +selfishness make it seem advantageous. + +Two years before, a friend of Josephine had given her a small, young +model of the then fashionable breed of dogs, a small lapdog, and at +once Josephine had made a pet of the little animal, which had been +recommended to her as the progeny of a rare and genuine race of lapdogs. +It is true the little Fortune had not fulfilled what had been promised; +he had not grown up exactly into a model of beauty and loveliness. +With small feet, a long body of a pale yellow rather than red, a thick, +double, flat nose, this lapdog had nothing of its race but the black +face, and the tail in the shape of a corkscrew. Besides all this, he was +undoubtedly of a surly, quarrelsome disposition, and he preferred the +indolent and ease of his cushion to either a promenade with Josephine or +to a game with her children. + +But since Josephine was no more there, since her beautiful hands no more +presented him his food, a change had come over Fortune’s character; +he had awakened from the effeminacy of happiness to full activity. The +children had but to say, “We are going to mamma,” and at once Fortune +would spring up from his cushion with a cheerful bark, and run out into +the streets, describing circles and performing joyous leaps. Fortune, +as soon as the reception-room of the prison was opened, was always the +first to rush in, barking loudly at the jailer; then, when his spite +was over, to run with all the signs of passionate tenderness toward his +mistress; then he would surround her with caresses, and leap, bark, and +whine, until she noticed him, until she should have kissed and embraced +the children, and then taken him up in her arms. + +But one day, as the door of the reception-room opened, and Eugene and +Hortense entered with Madame Lanoy, Fortune’s loud barking trumpet +sounded not, and he sprang not forward toward Josephine. He walked on +gravely with measured steps at the side of Madame Lanoy, who led him +with a string which she had fastened to his collar. With important, +thoughtful mien, he gazed resignedly and gravely at his mistress, and +even for his hated foe the jailer he had but a dull growl, which he soon +repressed. + +Josephine was somewhat alarmed at this change in Fortune’s demeanor, +and after she had welcomed, taken to her bosom and kissed her darling +children, after she had saluted the good Madame Lanoy, she inquired why +Fortune was so sad and why he was led as a captive. + +“Because he is so wild and unruly, mamma,” said Eugene, with a peculiar +smile, “because he wants always to be the first to salute you, and +because he barks so loud that we cannot possibly for some time hear what +our dear mamma has to say.” + +“And then, in the street, he is so wicked and troublesome,” cried +Hortense, with eagerness, “and he always begins quarrelling and fighting +with every dog which passes by, and we must stand there and wait for him +when we are so anxious to see our dear mamma.” + +“For all these reasons,” resumed Madame Lanoy, with slow, solemn +intonation, “for all these reasons we have thought it necessary to chain +Fortune and to tighten up his collar.” + +“And you have done quite well, citizeness,” growled the turnkey, “for +I had already thought of silencing forever the abominable lapdog if he +again barked at me so.” + +Josephine said nothing, but the peculiar smile she had noticed on +her children’s face had passed, at the words of Madame Lanoy, over +Josephine’s radiant countenance, and she now with her pet names called +Fortune to her, to press him to her heart, to pat him, and by all these +caresses to make amends for his having his collar somewhat tightened. + +But whilst thus petting him, and tenderly smoothing down his sleek fur, +her slim fingers quickly and cautiously passed under the wide collar of +Fortune. Then her eyes were rapidly directed toward the jailer. He was +engaged in animated conversation with Madame Lanoy, who knew how to make +him talk, by inquiring after the health of his little sick daughter. + +A second time Josephine’s fingers were passed under Fortune’s +collar--for she had well understood the words of Madame Lanoy--with a +woman’s keen instinct she understood why Fortune’s collar had been drawn +closer about him. She had felt the thin, closely-folded paper, which +was tied up with the string in the dog’s collar, and she drew it out +rapidly, adroitly to hide it in her hand. She then called Hortense and +Eugene, and whilst she talked with them, she slowly and carefully, under +pretext of adjusting more closely the kerchief round her neck, secreted +the paper in her bosom. + +The jailer had seen nothing; he was telling Madame Lanoy, with all the +pride of a kind father, that all the prisoners were anxious about his +little Eugenie; that all, more than once a day, inquired how it fared +with the little one; that she was the pet of the prisoners, who were so +delighted to have the child with them, and for long hours to jest and +play with her. Unfortunate captives, who nattered the child, and feigned +love for it, so as to move the father’s heart, and instil into it a +little compassion for their misfortune! + +When Eugene and Hortense came the next time with their faithful Lanoy, +Fortune was again led by the string as a prisoner, and this time +Josephine was still more affectionate than before. She not only welcomed +him at his entrance, and lifted him up in her arms, but she was yet, +if possible, more affectionate toward him at the time of departure, +and embraced him, and tried if the collar had not been buckled on too +tightly, if the string which was tied round it did not hurt him too +much. And whilst she examined this, Eugene was telling the jailer that +he was now a worthy apprentice of a cabinet-maker, and that he hoped one +day to be a useful citizen of the republic. The jailer was listening to +him with a complacent smile, and had no suspicion that at this moment +Josephine’s cunning fingers were making sure with the string under the +collar the note in which she gave an answer to the other note that she +had before found under the collar of Fortune. [Footnote: “Souvenirs d’un +Sexagenaire,” par M.L. Arnould, vol. iii., p. 3.] + +From this day, Josephine knew every thing of importance in Paris; from +this time she could point out to her children the means to pursue so as +to win to their parents influential and powerful friends, so that they +might one day be delivered from their captivity. Fortune was love’s +messenger between Josephine and her children; a beam of happiness +had penetrated both cells, where lived Alexandre de Beauharnais and +Josephine, and they owed this gleam only to the lapdog mail. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. IN PRISON. + + +Since France had become a democratic republic, since the differences +in rank were abolished, and liberty, equality, and fraternity alone +prevailed, the aristocracy was either beyond the frontiers of France +or else in the prisons. Outside of the prison were but citoyens and +citoyennes; inside of the prison were yet dukes and duchesses, counts +and countesses, viscounts and viscountesses; there, behind locks +and bars, the aristocracy was represented in its most glorious and +high-sounding names. + +And there also, within these walls, was the proud, strict dame, whom +Marie Antoinette had once, to her misfortune, driven away from the +Tuileries, and who had not been permitted to possess a single foot of +ground in all France--there, within the prison with the aristocrats, +lived also Madame Etiquette. She had to leave the Tuileries with the +nobility, and with the nobility she had entered into the prisons of the +Conciergerie and of the Carmelite Convent. There she ruled with the same +authority and with the same gravity as once in happier days she had done +in the king’s palace. + +The republic had mixed together the prisoners without any distinction, +and in the hall, where every morning they gathered together to attend to +the roll-call of the condemned who were to report for the guillotine; in +the narrow rooms and cells, where they passed the rest of the day, +the republic had made no distinction between all these inmates of the +prison, dukes and simple knights, duchesses and baronesses, princesses +of the blood and country nobility of inferior degree. But etiquette +was there to remedy this unseemliness of fate and to re-establish the +natural order of things--etiquette, which had enacted rules and laws for +the halls of kings, enforced them also in the halls of prisons. Only for +the ladies of the most ancient nobility, the duchesses and princesses of +the blood, in the prison-rooms, as once in the king’s halls, the small +stool (tabouret) was reserved, and they were privileged to occupy the +rush-bottomed seats which were in the prisons, and which now replaced +the tabouret. No lady of inferior rank would consent to sit down in +their presence unless these ladies of superior rank had expressly +requested and entitled their inferior companions of misfortune to do so. +When, at the appointed hour, the halls were abandoned for the general +promenade in the yards of the Conciergerie, or in the small cloistered +gardens of the Carmelites, this recreation was preceded by a ceremony +which shortened its already short hour by at least ten minutes: the +ladies and the gentlemen, according to their order, rank, and nobility, +placed themselves in two rows on either side of the outer door, and +between them passed on first in ceremonial order of rank, as at a +court-festival, the ladies and gentlemen who at court were entitled +to the high and small levees, as well as to the tabouret, and to the +kissing of the queen’s hand. As they passed, each bowed low, and then, +with the same due observance of rank, as was customary at court, the +ladies and gentlemen of inferior titles followed two by two, when the +higher nobility had passed. [Footnote: “Souvenirs de la Marquise de +Crequi,” vol. v]. + +It was yet the court-society which was assembled here in the rooms and +cells of the prison; only this court-society, this aristocracy, had no +more King Louis to do homage unto, but they served another king, they +bowed low before another queen! This king to whom the nobility of France +belonged was Death; this queen to which proud heads bowed low was the +Guillotine! + +It was King Death who now summoned the aristocrats to his court; the +scaffold was the hall of festivity where solemn homage was made to this +king. It would therefore have been against all etiquette to crowd into +this hall of festivity with beclouded countenance; this would have +diminished the respect due to King Death, if he had not been approached +with full-court ceremonial, and with the serene, easy smile of a +courtier. To die, to meet death was now a distinction, an honor for +which each almost envied the other. When at ten o’clock in the morning +the gathering took place in the large room, the conversation was of the +most cheerful and unaffected easiness; they joked, they laughed, they +speculated on politics, though it was well known that in a few minutes +yonder door was to open, and that on its threshold the jailer would +appear, list in hand; that from this list he would call out with his +loud, croaking voice, as Death’s harbinger, the names of those whose +death-warrants had been yesterday signed by Robespierre, and who would +have immediately to leave the hall, to mount the wagons which were +already waiting at the prison’s gate to drive them to the guillotine. + +While the jailer read his list, suspense and excitement were visible on +all faces, but no one would have so deeply lowered himself as to betray +fear or anguish when his name fell from the lips of the jailer. The +smile remained on the lip, friends and acquaintances were bidden +farewell with a cheerful salutation, and with easy, unaffected demeanor +they quitted the hall to mount the fatal vehicle. + +To die gracefully was now considered as much bon ton as it had been once +fashionable gracefully to enter the ballroom and do obeisance to +the king; contempt and scorn would have followed him who might have +exhibited a sorrowful mien, hesitation, or fear. + +One morning the jailer had read his list, and sixteen gentlemen and +ladies of the aristocracy had consequently to leave the hall of the +Conciergerie to enter both wagons now ready at the gate. As they were +starting for the fatal journey a second turnkey appeared, to say +that through some accident only one of the wagons was ready, and that +consequently only eight of the sentenced ones could be driven to the +guillotine. This meant that the accident nullified eight death-warrants +and saved the lives of eight sentenced persons. For it was not +probable that these eight persons would next morning be honored with +an execution. Their warrants were signed, their names had been called; +neither the tribunal of the revolution nor the jailer could pay special +attention whether their heads had fallen or not. The next day would +bring on new condemnations, new lists, new distinctions for the wagons, +new heads for the guillotine. Whoever, on the day appointed for the +execution, missed the guillotine, could safely reckon that his life +was saved; that henceforth he was amongst the forgotten ones, of whom a +great number filled the prisons, and who expected their freedom through +some favorable accident. + +To-day, therefore, only eight of the sixteen condemned were to mount the +wagon. But who were to be the favored ones? The two turnkeys, with cold +indifference, left the choice to the condemned. Only eight could be +accommodated in the wagon, they said, and it was the same who went or +who remained. “Make your choice!” + +A strife arose among the sixteen condemned ones--not as to who might +remain behind, but as to those who might mount into the wagon. + +The ladies declared that, according to the rules of common politeness, +which allowed ladies to go first, the choice belonged to them; the +gentlemen objected to this motion of the ladies on the plea that to +reach the guillotine steps had to be ascended, and as etiquette required +that in going up-stairs the gentlemen should always precede the ladies, +they were also now entitled to go first and to mount the steps of the +scaffold before the ladies. At last all had to give way to the claims of +the Duchess de Grammont, who declared that at this festival as at every +other the order of rank was to be observed, and that she, as well as all +the gentlemen and ladies of superior rank, had the undisputed privilege +now, as at all other celebrations, to take the precedency. + +No one ventured to oppose this decision, and the Duchess de Grammont, +proud of the victory won, was the first to leave the room and mount the +wagon. + +Another time the turnkey began to read the list: every one listened +with grave attention, and at every call a clear, cheerful “Here I am!” + followed. + +But after the jailer, with wearied voice, had many times repeated a name +from his list, the accustomed answer failed. No one came forward, no one +seemed to be there to lay claim to that name and to the execution. +The jailer stopped a few minutes, and as all were dumb, he continued, +indifferent and unmoved, to call out the names. + +“We will then have only fifteen heads to deliver to-day,” said he, after +reading the list, “for there must have been a mistake. One of the +names is false, or else the person to whom it belongs has already been +delivered.” + +“It is probably but a blunder of the pen!” exclaimed a handsome young +man who, smiling, stepped out of the crowd of listeners and passed on to +the side where the victims stood. “You read Chapetolle. There is no +such name here. The hand of the writer was probably tired of writing the +numerous lists of those who are sentenced to death, and he has therefore +written the letters wrong. My name is Chapelotte, and I am the one meant +by Chapetolle.” + +“I do not know,” said the jailer, “but it is certain that sixteen +sentenced ones ought to go into the wagons, and that only fifteen have +reported themselves in a legal way.” + +“Well, then, add me in an illegal manner to your fifteen,” said the +young man, smiling. “Without doubt it is my name they intended to write. +I do not wish to save my life through a blunder in writing, and who +knows if another time I may find such good company as to-day in your +chariot? Allow me then to journey on with my friends.” + +The jailer had no reason to refuse him this journey, and he had the +satisfaction besides of being thus able to deliver sixteen sentenced +prisoners to the guillotine. + +Such was the society of the aristocrats, among whom Josephine lived the +long, dreary days of her imprisonment. The cell she occupied was +shared by two companions of misfortune, the Duchess de Aguillon and the +beautiful Madame de Fontenay, who afterward became Madame Tallien, so +distinguished and renowned for her beauty and wit. Therese de Fontenay +knew, and every one knew, that she was already sentenced, even if her +sentence was not yet written down and countersigned. It was recorded in +the heart of Robespierre. He had sentenced her, without any concealment. +She had but a few weeks more to endure the martyrdom, the anguish of +hope and of expectation. She was his secure victim; Robespierre needed +not hasten the fall of this beautiful head, which was the admiration of +all who saw it. This beauty was the very crime which Robespierre wanted +to punish, for with this beauty, Therese de Fontenay, who then resided +in Bordeaux with her husband, had captivated the old friend and +associate in sentiments of Robespierre, the fanatical Tallien; with +this beauty she had converted the man of blood and terror into a +soft, compassionate being, inclined to pardon and to mercy toward his +fellow-beings. + +Tallien had been sent as commissionnaire from the Convention to +Bordeaux, and there with inexorable severity he had raged against the +unfortunate merchants, from whom he exacted enormous assessments, and +whom he sentenced to the guillotine if they refused, or were unable to +pay. But suddenly love changed the bloodthirsty tiger into a sensitive +being, and the beautiful Madame de Fontenay, who had become acquainted +with Tallien in the prison of Bordeaux, had worked a complete change in +his whole being. For the first time this man, who unmoved had condemned +to death King Louis and the Girondists, found on his lips the word +“pardon;” for the first time the hand which had signed so many +death-warrants wrote the order to let a prisoner go free. + +This prisoner was Therese de Fontenay, the daughter of the Spanish +banker Cabarrus, and she rewarded him for the gift of her life with +a smile which forever made him her captive. From this time the +death-warrants were converted into pardons from his lips, and for every +pardon Therese thanked him with a sweet smile, with a glowing look of +love. + +But this leniency was looked upon as criminal by the tribunal of +terror in Paris. They recalled the culprit who dared pardon instead of +punishing; and if Robespierre did not think himself powerful enough +to send Tallien as a traitor and as an apostate to the scaffold, +he punished him for his leniency by separating from him Therese de +Fontenay, who had abandoned the husband forced upon her, and who had +followed Tallien to Paris, and Robespierre had sent her to prison. + +There, at the Carmelites’, was Therese de Fontenay; she occupied the +same cell as Josephine; the same misfortune had made them companions and +friends. They communicated one to the other their hopes and fears; +and when Josephine, with tears in her eyes, spoke to her friend of her +children, of her deep anguish, for they were alone and abandoned in the +world outside of the prison walls, whilst their unfortunate pitiable +mother languished in prison, Therese comforted and encouraged her. + +“So long as one lives there is hope,” said Therese, with her enchanting +smile. “Myself, who in the eyes of you all am sentenced to death, +hope--no, I hope not--I am convinced that I will soon obtain my freedom. +And I swear that, as soon as I am free, I will stir heaven and earth to +procure the liberty of my dear friend Josephine and of her husband the +Viscount de Beauharnais, and to give back to the poor orphaned children +their parents.” + +Josephine answered with an incredulous smile, and a shrugging of the +shoulders; and then Therese’s very expressive countenance glowed, and +her large, black eyes flashed deeper gleams. + +“You have no faith in me, Josephine,” she said, vehemently; “but I +repeat to you, I will soon obtain my freedom, and then I will procure +your liberty and that of your husband.” + +“But how will you obtain that?” asked Josephine, shaking her head. + +“I will ruin Robespierre,” said Therese, gravely. + +“In what do your means of ruining him consist?” + +“In this letter here,” said Therese, as she drew out of her bosom a +small paper folded up. “See, this sheet of paper; it consists but of a +few lines which, since they would not furnish me with writing-materials, +I have written with my blood on this sheet of paper, which I found +yesterday in the garden during the promenade. The turnkey will give this +letter to-day to Tallien. He has given me his word, and I have promised +him that Tallien will recompense him magnificently for it. This letter +will ruin Robespierre and make me free, and then I will procure the +freedom of the Viscount and of the Viscountess de Beauharnais.” + +“What then, in that letter is the magic word which is to work out such +wonders?” + +Therese handed the paper to her friend. + +“Read,” said she, smiling. + +Josephine read: “Therese of Fontenay to the citizen Tallien. Either in +eight days I am free and the wife of my deliverer, the noble and brave +Tallien, who will have freed the world from the monster Robespierre, or +else, in eight days, I mount the scaffold; and my last thought will be +a curse for the cowardly, heartless man who has not had the courage to +risk his life for her he loved, and who suffers for his sake, for his +sake meets death--who had not the mind to consider that with daring deed +he must destroy the bloodthirsty fiend or be ruined by him. Therese de +Fontenay will ever love her Tallien if he delivers her; she will +hate him, even in death, if he sacrifices her to Robespierre’s +blood-greediness!” + +“If, through mishap, Robespierre should receive this letter, then you +and Tallien are lost,” sighed Josephine. + +“But Tallien, and not Robespierre, will receive it, and I am saved,” + exclaimed Therese. “Therefore, my friend, take courage and be bold. Wait +but eight days patiently. Let us wait and hope.” + +“Yes, let us wait and hope,” sighed Josephine. “Hope and patience are +the only companions of the captive.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV. DELIVERANCE. + + +Meanwhile the patience of the unfortunate prisoners of the Carmelite +convent were to be subjected to a severe trial; and the very next day +after this conversation with Therese de Fontenay, Josephine believed +that there was no more hope for her, that she was irrevocably lost, as +her husband was lost. For three days she had not seen the viscount, nor +received any news from him. Only a vague report had reached her that the +viscount was no longer in the Carmelite convent, but that he had been +transferred to the Conciergerie. + +This report told the truth. Alexandre de Beauharnais had once more been +denounced, and this second accusation was his sentence of death. For +some time past the fanatical Jacobins had invented a new means to find +guilty ones for the guillotine, and to keep the veins bleeding, so as +to restore France to health. They sent emissaries into the prisons to +instigate conspiracies among the prisoners, and to find out men wretched +enough to purchase their life by accusing their prison companions, and +by delivering them over to the executioner’s axe. Such a spy had been +sent into that portion of the prison where Beauharnais was, and he had +begun his horrible work, for he had kindled discord and strife among the +prisoners, and had won a few to his sinister projects. But Beauharnais’s +keen eye had discovered the traitor, and he had loudly and openly +denounced him to his fellow-prisoners. The next day, the spy disappeared +from the prison, but as he went he swore bloody vengeance on General de +Beauharnais. [Footnote: “Memoires du Comte de Lavalette,” vol. i., p. +175.] + +And he kept his word; the next morning De Beauharnais was summoned +for trial, and the gloomy, hateful faces of his judges, their hostile +questions and reproaches, the capital crimes they accused him of, led +him to conclude that his death was decided upon, and that he was doomed +to the guillotine. + +In the night which followed his trial, Alexandre de Beauharnais wrote to +his wife a letter, in which he communicated to her his sad forebodings, +and bade her farewell for this life. The next day he was transferred to +the Conciergerie--that is to say, into the vestibule of the scaffold. + +This letter of her husband, received by Josephine the next day after her +conversation with Therese de Fontenay, ran thus: + +“The fourth Thermidor, in the second year of the republic. All the signs +of a kind of trial, to which I and other prisoners have been subjected +this day, tell me that I am the victim of the treacherous calumny of a +few aristocrats, patriots so called, of this house. The mere conjecture +that this hellish machination will follow me to the tribunal of the +revolution gives me no hope to see you again, my friend, no more +to embrace you or our children. I speak not of my sorrow: my tender +solicitude for you, the heartfelt affection which unites me to you, +cannot leave you in doubt of the sentiments with which I leave this +life. + +“I am also sorry to have to part with my country, which I love, for +which I would a thousand times have laid down my life, and which I +no more can serve, but which beholds me now quit her bosom, since she +considers me to be a bad citizen. This heart-rending thought does not +allow me to commend my memory to you; labor, then, to make it pure +in proving that a life which has been devoted to the service of the +country, and to the triumph of liberty and equality, must punish that +abominable slanderer, especially when he comes from a suspicious +class of men. But this labor must be postponed; for in the storms of +revolution, a great people, struggling to reduce its chains to dust, +must of necessity surround itself with suspicion, and be more afraid to +forget a guilty man than to put an innocent one to death. + +“I will die with that calmness which allows man to feel emotion at the +thought of his dearest inclinations--I will die with that courage which +is the distinctive feature of a free man, of a clear conscience, of an +exalted soul, whose highest wishes are the prosperity and growth of the +republic. + +“Farewell, my friend; gather consolation from my children; derive +comfort in educating them, in teaching them that, by their virtues +and their devotion to their country, they obliterate the memory of my +execution, and recall to national gratitude my services and my claims. +Farewell to those I love: you know them! Be their consolation, and +through your solicitude for them prolong my life in their hearts! +Farewell! for the last time in this life I press you and my children to +my heart!--ALEXANDRE BEAUHARNAIS.” + +Josephine had read this letter with a thousand tears, but she hoped +still; she believed still in the possibility that the gloomy forebodings +of her husband would not be realized; that some fortunate circumstance +would save him or at least retard his death. + +But this hope was not to be fulfilled. A few hours after receiving +this letter the turnkey brought to the prisoners the bulletin of the +executions of the preceding day. It was that day Josephine’s turn to +read this bulletin to her companions. She therefore began her sad task; +and, as slowly and thoughtfully she let fall name after name from her +lips, here and there the faces of her hearers were blanched, and their +eyes filled with tears. + +Suddenly Josephine uttered a piercing cry, and sprang up with the +movement of madness toward the door, shook it in her deathly sorrow, as +if her life hung upon the opening of that door, and then she sank down +fainting. + +Unfortunate Josephine! she had seen in the list of those who had been +executed the name of General Beauharnais, and in the first excitement +of horror she wanted to rush out to see him, or at least to give to his +body the parting kiss. + +On the sixth Thermidor, in the year II., that is, on the 24th of +July, 1794, fell on the scaffold the head of the General Viscount de +Beauharnais. With quiet, composed coolness he had ascended the scaffold, +and his last cry, as he laid his head on the block, was, “Long live the +republic!” + +In the wagon which drove him to the scaffold, he had found again a +friend, the Prince de Salm-Kirbourg, who was now on his way to the +guillotine, and who had risked his life in bringing back to Paris the +children of Josephine. + +His bloodthirsty enemies had not enough of the head of General +Beauharnais; his wife’s head also should fall, and the name of the +traitor of his country was to be extinguished forever. + +Two days after the execution of her husband, the turnkey brought to +Josephine the writ of her accusation, and the summons to appear before +the tribunal of the revolution--a summons which then had all the +significancy of a death-warrant. + +Josephine heard the summons of the jailer with a quiet, easy smile; she +had not even a look for the fatal paper which lay on her bed. Near this +bed stood the physician, whom the compassionate republic, which would +not leave its prisoners to die on a sick-bed, but only on the scaffold, +had sent to Josephine to inquire into her illness and afford her relief. + +With indignation he eagerly snatched the paper from the bed, and, +returning it back to the jailer, exclaimed: “Tell the tribunal of the +revolution that it has nothing more to do with this woman! Disease will +bring on justice here, and leave nothing to do for the guillotine. In +eight days Citoyenne Beauharnais is dead!” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire +de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 235.] + +This decision of the physician was transmitted to the tribunal, which +resolved that the trial of Madame Beauharnais would be postponed for +eight days, and that the tribunal would wait and see if truly death +would save her from the guillotine. + +Meanwhile, during these eight days, events were to pass which were to +give a very different form to the state of things, and impart to the +young republic a new, unexpected attitude. + +Robespierre ruled yet, he was the feared dictator of France! But Tallien +had received the note of his beautiful, fondly-loved Therese, and he +swore to himself that she should not ascend the scaffold, that she +should not curse him, that he would possess her, that he would win her +love, and destroy the fiend who stood in the way of his happiness, whose +blood-streaming hands were every day ready to sign her death-warrant. + +On the very same day in which he received the letter of Therese, +he conversed with a few trusty friends, men whom he knew detested +Robespierre as much as himself, and who all longed for an occasion to +destroy him. They planned a scheme of attack against the dictator who +imperilled the life of all, and from whom it was consequently necessary +to take away life and power, so as to be sure of one’s life. It was +decided to launch an accusation against him before the whole Convention, +to incriminate him as striving after dominion, as desirous of breaking +the republic with his bloody hands, and ambitious to exalt himself into +dictator and sovereign. Tallien undertook to fulminate this accusation +against him, and they all agreed to wait yet a few days so as to gain +amongst the deputies in the Convention some members who would support +the accusation and give countenance to the conspirators. On the ninth +Thermidor this scheme was to be carried out; on the ninth Thermidor, +Tallien was to thunder forth the accusation against Robespierre and move +his punishment! + +This enterprise, however, seemed a folly, an impossibility, for at this +time Robespierre was at the height of his power, and fear weighed +upon the whole republic as a universal agony. No one dared oppose +Robespierre, for a look from his eye, a sign from his hand sufficed to +bring death, to lead to the scaffold. + +The calm, peaceful, and united republic for which Robespierre had +toiled, which had been the ultimate end of his bloodthirstiness, was at +last there, but this republic was built upon corpses, was baptized with +streams of blood and tears. And now that the republic had given up +all opposition, now that she bowed, trembling under the hand of her +conqueror, now, Robespierre wanted to make her happy, he wanted to give +her what the storms of past years had ravished from her--he wanted +to give the republic a God! On the tribune of the Convention, on this +tribune which was his throne, rose Robespierre, to tell with grave +dignity to the republic that there was a Supreme Being, that the soul of +man was immortal. Then, accompanied by the Convention, he proceeded to +the Champ de Mars, to inaugurate the celebration of the worship of a +Supreme Being as his high-priest. But amid this triumph, on his way +to the Champ de Mars, Robespierre the conqueror had for the first time +noticed the murmurs of the Tarpeian rock; he had noticed the dark, +threatening glances which were directed at him from all sides. He felt +the danger which menaced him, and he was determined to remove it from +his person by annihilating those who threatened. + +But already terror had lost its power, no one trembled before the +guillotine, no one took pleasure in the fall of the axe, in the streams +of blood, which empurpled the Place de la Revolution. The fearful +stillness of death hung round the guillotine, the people were tired +of applauding it, and now and then from the silent ranks of the people +thundered forth in threatening accents the word “tyrant!” which, as the +first weapon of attack, was directed against Robespierre, who, on the +heights of the tribune, was throned with his unmoved, calm countenance. + +Robespierre felt that he must strike a heavy, decisive blow against his +foes and annihilate them. On the eighth Thermidor, he denounced a plot +organized by his enemies for breaking up the Convention. Through St. +Just he implicated as leaders of this conspiracy some eminent members +of the committees, and requested their dismissal. But the time was +past when his motions were received with jubilant acclamations, and +unconditionally obeyed. The Convention decided to submit the motion +of Robespierre to a vote, and the matter was postponed to the next +morning’s session. + +In the night which preceded the contemplated action of the Convention, +Robespierre went to the Jacobin Club and requested assistance against +his enemies in the Convention. He was received with enthusiasm, and +a general uprising of the revolutionary element was decided upon, and +organized for the following morning. + +The same night, Tallien, his friends and adherents, met together, and +the mode of attack for the following day, the ninth Thermidor, was +discussed, and the parts assigned to each. + +The prisoners in the Carmelite convent did not of course suspect any +thing of the events which were preparing beyond the walls of their +prison. Even Therese de Fontenay was low-spirited and sad; for this day, +the ninth Thermidor, was the last day of respite fixed by her to Tallien +for her liberty. + +This was also the last day of respite which had saved Josephine from the +tribunal of the revolution, through the decision of her physician. +Death had spared her head, but now it belonged to the executioner. The +captives feared the event, and they were confirmed in this fear by the +jailer, who, on the morning of the ninth Thermidor, entered the room +which Josephine, the Duchess d’Aiguillon, and Therese de Fontenay +occupied, and who removed the camp-bed which Josephine had hitherto used +as a sofa, to give it to another prisoner. + +“How,” exclaimed the Duchess d’Aiguillon, “do you want to give this bed +to another prisoner? Is Madame de Beauharnais to have a better one?” + +The turnkey burst into a coarse laugh. “Alas! no,” said he, with a +significant gesture, “Citoyenne Beauharnais will soon need a bed no +more.” + +Her friends broke into tears; but Josephine remained composed and quite. +At this decisive moment a fearful self-possession and calmness came over +her; all sufferings and sorrow appeared to have sunk away, all anxiety +and care seemed overcome, and a radiant smile illumined Josephine’s +features, for, through a wondrous association of ideas, she suddenly +remembered the prophecy of the negro-woman in Martinique. + +“Be calm, my friends,” said she, smiling; “weep not, do not consider me +as destined to the scaffold, for I assure you I am going to live: I +must not die, for I am destined to be one day the sovereign of France. +Therefore, no more tears! I am the future Queen of France!” + +“Ah!” exclaimed the Duchess d’Aiguillon, half angry and half sad, “why +not at once appoint your state dignitaries?” + +“You are right,” said Josephine, eagerly; “this is the best time to +do so. Well, then, my dear duchess, I now appoint you to be my maid of +honor, and I swear it will be so.” + +“My God! she is mad!” exclaimed the duchess, and, nearly fainting, she +sank upon her chair. + +Josephine laughed, and opened the window to admit some fresh air. She +perceived there below in the street a woman making to her all manner of +signs and gestures. She lifted up her arms, she then took hold of her +dress, and with her hand pointed to her robe. + +It was evident that she wished through these signs and motions to convey +some word to the prisoners, whom perhaps she knew, for she repeatedly +took hold of her robe with one hand, and pointed at it with the other. + +“Robe?” cried out Josephine interrogatively. + +The woman nodded in the affirmative, then took up a stone, which she +held up to the prisoner’s view. + +“Pierre?” ask Josephine. + +The woman again nodded in the affirmative, and then placed the stone +(pierre) in her robe, made several times the motion of falling, then of +cutting off the neck, and then danced and clapped her hands. + +“My friends,” cried Josephine, struck with a sudden thought, “this woman +brings us good news, she tells us Robespierre est tombe.” (Robespierre +has fallen.) + +“Yes, it is so,” exclaimed Therese, triumphantly; “Tallien has kept his +word; he conquers, and Robespierre is thrust down!” + +And, overpowered with joy and emotion, the three women, weeping, sank +into each other’s arms. + +They now heard from without loud cries and shouts. It was the jailer, +quarrelling with his refractory dog. The dog howled, and wanted to go +out with his master, but the jailer kicked him back, saying: “Away, go +to the accursed Robespierre!” + +Soon joyous voices resounded through the corridor; the door of their +cell was violently opened, and a few municipal officers entered to +announce to the Citizeness Madame Fontenay that she was free, and bade +her accompany them into the carriage waiting below to drive her to the +house of Citizen Tallien. Behind them pressed the prisoners who, from +the reception-room, had followed the authorities, to entreat them to +give them the news of the events in Paris. + +There was now no reason for the municipal authorities to make a secret +of the events which at this hour occupied all Paris, and which would +soon be welcomed throughout France as the morning dawn of a new day. + +Robespierre had indeed fallen! Tallien and his friends had in the +Convention brought against the despot the accusation that he was +striving for the sovereign power, and that he had enthroned a Supreme +Being merely to proclaim himself afterward His visible representative, +and to take all power in his own hands. When Robespierre had endeavored +to justify himself, he had been dragged away from the speaker’s tribune; +and, as he defended himself, Tallien had drawn a dagger on Robespierre, +and was prevented from killing the tyrant by a few friends, who by +main force turned the dagger away. Immediately after this scene, the +Convention decided to arrest Robespierre and his friends Couthon and St. +Just; and the prisoners, among whom Robespierre’s younger brother had +willingly placed himself, were led away to the Luxemburg. [Footnote: +The next day, on the tenth Thermidor, Robespierre, who in the night had +attempted to put an end to his life with a pistol, was executed +with twenty-one companions. His brother was among the number of the +executed.] + +The prisoners welcomed this news with delight; for with the fall of +Robespierre, had probably sounded for them the hour of deliverance, and +they could hope that their prison’s door would soon be opened, not to be +led to the scaffold, but to obtain their freedom. + +Therese de Fontenay, with the messengers sent by Tallien, left the +Carmelite cloisters to fulfil the promise made by her to Tallien in +her letter, to become his wife, and to pass at his side new days of +happiness and love. + +She embraced Josephine tenderly as she bade her farewell, and renewed to +her the assurance that she would consider it her dearest and most sacred +duty to obtain her friend’s liberty. + +In the evening of the same day, Josephine’s camp-bed was restored to +her; and, stretching herself upon it with intense delight, she said +smilingly to her friends: “You see, I am not yet guillotined; I will be +Queen of France.” [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” ch. +xxxiii.] + +Therese de Fontenay, now Citoyenne Tallien, kept her word. Three days +after obtaining her liberty, she came herself to fetch Josephine out +of prison. Her soft, mild disposition had resumed its old spell over +Tallien, whom the Convention had appointed president of the Committee of +Safety. The death-warrants signed by Robespierre were annulled, and the +prisons were opened, to restore to hundreds of accused life and liberty. +The bloody and tearful episode of the revolution had closed with the +fall of Robespierre, and on the ninth Thermidor the republic assumed a +new phase. + +Josephine was free once more! With tears of bliss she embraced her two +children, her dear darlings, found again! In pressing her offspring to +her heart with deep, holy emotion, she thought of their father, who had +loved them both so much, who had committed to her the sacred trust of +keeping alive in the hearts of his children love for their father. + +Encircling still her children in her arms, she bowed them on their +knees; and, lifting up to heaven her eyes, moist with tears, she +whispered to them: “Let us pray, children; let us lift up our thoughts +to heaven, where your father is, and whence he looks down upon us to +bless his children.” + +Josephine delayed not much longer in Paris, where the air was yet damp +with the blood of so many murdered ones; where the guillotine, on which +her husband had died, lifted yet its threatening head. She hastened with +her children to Fontainebleau, there to rest from her sorrows on the +heart of her father-in-law, to weep with him on the loss they both had +suffered. + +The dream of her first youth and of her first love had passed away, and +to the father of her beheaded husband Josephine returned a widow; rich +in gloomy, painful experiences, poor in hopes, but with a stout heart, +and a determination to live, and to be at once a father and a mother to +her children. + + + + +BOOK II. THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. + + +CHAPTER XVI. BONAPARTE IN CORSICA. + + +The civil war which for four years had devastated France had also with +its destruction and its terrors overspread the French colonies, and in +Martinique as well as in Corsica two parties stood opposed to each other +in infuriated bitterness--one fighting for the rights of the native +land, the other for the rights of the French people, for the “liberty, +equality, and fraternity” which the Convention in Paris had adopted +for its motto, since it delivered to the guillotine, on the Place de +la Revolution, the heads of those who dared lay claim for themselves to +this liberty of thought so solemnly proclaimed. + +In Corsica both parties fought with the same eagerness as in France, and +the execution of Louis XVI. had only made the contest more violent and +more bitter. + +One of these parties looked with horror on this guillotine which had +drunk the blood of the king, and this party desired to have nothing in +common with this French republic, with this blood-streaming Convention +which had made of terror a law, and which had destroyed so many lives in +the name of liberty. + +At the head of this party stood the General Pascal Paoli, whom the +revolution had recalled to his native isle from his exile of twenty +years, and who objected that Corsica should bend obediently under the +blood-stained hand of the French Convention, and whose wish it was that +the isle should be an independent province of the great French republic. + +To exalt Corsica into a free, independent republic had been the idea of +his whole life. For the sake of this idea he had passed twenty years in +exile; for, after having made Corsica independent of Genoa, he had not +been able to obtain for his native isle that independence for which +he had fought with his brave Genoese troops. During eight years he had +perseveringly maintained the conflict--during eight years he had been +the ruler of Corsica, but immovable in his republican principles; he had +rejected the title of king, which the Corsican people, grateful for +the services rendered to their fatherland, had offered him. He had been +satisfied to be the first and most zealous servant of the island, which, +through his efforts, had been liberated from the tyrannical dominion of +Genoa. But Genoa’s appeal for assistance had brought French troops to +Corsica; the Genoese, harassed and defeated everywhere by Paoli’s brave +troops, had finally transferred the island to France. This was not what +Paoli wanted--this was not for what he had fought! + +Corsica was to be a free and independent republic; she was to bow no +more to France than to Genoa; Corsica was to be free. + +In vain did the French government make to General Paoli the most +brilliant offers; he rejected them; he called the Corsicans to the most +energetic resistance to the French occupation; and when he saw that +opposition was in vain, that Corsica had to submit, he at least would +not yield, and he went to England. + +The cry for liberty which, in the year 1790, resounded from France, and +which made the whole world tremble, brought him back from England to +Corsica, and he took the oath of allegiance to free, democratic France. +But the blood of the king had annulled this oath, the Convention’s +reign of terror had filled his soul with horror; and, after solemnly +separating himself from France, he had, in the year 1793, convoked a +Consulta, to decide whether Corsica was to submit to the despotism of +the French republic, or if it was to be a free and independent state. +The Consulta chose the latter position, and named Paoli for president as +well as for general-in-chief of the Corsicans. + +The National Convention at once called the culprit to its bar, +and ordered him to Paris to justify his conduct, or to receive the +punishment due. But General Paoli paid no attention to the imperious +orders of the Convention, which, as the chief appeared not at its bar, +declared him, on the 15th of May, 1793, a traitor to his country, and +sent commissioners to Corsica to arrest the criminal. + +This traitor to the state, the General Pascal Paoli, was then at the +head of the Moderate party in Corsica, and he loudly and solemnly +declared that, in case of absolute necessity, it would be preferable to +call England to their assistance than to accept the yoke of the French +republic, which had desecrated her liberty, since she had soiled it with +the blood of so many innocent victims. + +But in opposition to General Paoli rose up with wild clamor the other +party, the party of young, enthusiastic heads, who were intoxicated with +the democratic ideas which had obtained the sway in France, and which +they imagined, so great was their impassioned devotedness to them, +possessed the power and the ability to conquer the whole world. + +At the head of this second party, which claimed unconditional adherence +to France, to the members of the Convention--at the head of this +fanatical, Corsican, republican, and Jacobin party, stood the Bonaparte +family, and above them all the two brothers Joseph and Napoleon. + +Joseph was now, in the year 1793, chief justice of the tribunal of +Ajaccio; Napoleon, who was captain of artillery in the French army of +Italy, had then obtained leave of absence to visit his family. Both +brothers had been hitherto the most affectionate and intimate admirers +of Paoli, and especially Napoleon, who, from his earliest childhood, had +cherished the most unbounded admiration for the patriot who preferred +exile to a dependent grandeur in Corsica. Even now, since Paoli’s return +to Corsica, and Napoleon had had many opportunities to see him, his +admiration for the great chief had lost nothing of its force or +vitality. Paoli seemed sincerely to return this inclination of Napoleon +and of his brother, and in the long evening walks, which both +brothers made with him, Napoleon’s mind opened itself, before his old, +experienced companion, the great general, the noble republican, with +a freedom and a candor such as he had never manifested to others. With +subdued admiration Paoli listened to his short, energetic explanations, +to his descriptions, to his war-schemes, to his warm enthusiasm for the +republic; and one day, carried away by the warmth of the young captain +of artillery, the general, fixing his glowing eyes upon him, exclaimed: +“Young man, you are modelled after the antique; you belong to Plutarch!” + +“And to General Paoli!” replied Napoleon, eagerly, as he pressed his +friend’s hand affectionately in his own. + +But now this harmonious concord between General Paoli and the young men +was destroyed by the passion of party views. Joseph as well as Napoleon +belonged to the French party; they soon became its leaders; they were +at the head of the club which they had organized according to the maxims +and principles of the Jacobin Club in Paris, and to which they gave the +same name. + +In this Jacobin Club at Ajaccio Napoleon made speeches full of glowing +enthusiasm for the French republic, for the ideas of freedom; in this +club he enjoined on the people of Corsica to adhere loyally to France, +to keep fast and to defend with life and blood the acquired liberty of +republican France, to regard and drive away as traitors to their country +all those who dared guide the Corsican people on another track. + +But the Corsican people were not there to hear the enthusiastic speeches +about liberty and to follow them. Only a few hundred ardent republicans +of the same sentiment applauded the republican Napoleon, and cried aloud +that the republic must be defended with blood and life. The majority of +the Corsican people flocked to Paoli, and the commissioners sent by +the Convention from Paris to Corsica, to depose and arrest Paoli, found +co-operation and assistance only among the inhabitants of the cities +and among the French troops. Paoli, the president of the Consulta, was +located at Corte; the messengers of the Convention gathered in Bastia +the adherents of France, and excited them to strenuous efforts against +the rebellious Consulta and the insurgent Paoli. Civil war with all its horrors was there; the raging conflicts of the +parties tore apart the holy bonds of family, friendship, and love. +Brother fought and argued against brother, friend rose up against +friend, and whole families were destroyed, rent asunder by the +impassioned rivalries of sentiment and partisanship. Denunciations and +accusations, suspicions and enmities, followed. Every one trembled at +his own shadow; and, to turn aside the peril of death, it was necessary +to strike. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 51.] + +The Bonaparte brothers opposed General Paoli with violent bitterness; +bloody conflicts took place, in which the national Corsican party +remained victorious. Irritated and embittered by the opposition which +some of the natives themselves were making to his patriotic efforts, +Paoli persecuted with zealous activity the conquered, whom he resolved +to destroy, that they might not imperil the young Corsican independence. +Joseph and Napoleon Bonaparte were the leaders of this party, and Paoli +knew too well the energy and the intellectual superiority of Napoleon +not to dread his influence. Him, above all things, him and his family, +must he render harmless, so as to weaken and to intimidate the French +party. He sent agents to Ajaccio, to arrest the whole Bonaparte family, +and at the same time his troops approached the town to occupy it and +make the French commissioners prisoners. But these latter, informed in +time of the danger, had gained time and saved themselves on board the +French frigate lying in the harbor, and with them the whole Bonaparte +family had embarked. Napoleon, on whom the attention of Paoli’s agents +had been specially directed, was more than once in danger of being +seized by them, and it was due to the advice of a friend that, disguised +as a sailor, he saved himself in time on board the French frigate and +joined his family. [Footnote: “Memoires de la Duchess d’Abrantes,” vol. +i.] The commissioners of the Convention at once ordered the anchor to be +weighed, and to steer toward France. + +This frigate, on board of which the Bonaparte family in its flight had +embarked, carried to France the future emperor and his fortune. + +The house, the possessions of the Bonaparte family, fell a prey to +the conquerors, and on them they gave vent to their vengeance for +the successful escape of the fugitives. A witness of these facts is +a certificate which Joseph Bonaparte a few months later procured from +Corsica, and which ran as follows: + +“I, the undersigned, Louis Conti, procurator-syndic of the district of +Ajaccio, department of Corsica, declare and certify: in the month of +May of this year, when General Paoli and the administration of the +department had sent into the city of Ajaccio armed troops, in concert +with other traitors in the city, took possession of the fortress, drove +away the administration of the district, incarcerated a large portion of +the patriots, disarmed the republican forces, and, when these refused +to give up the commissioners of the National Convention, Paoli’s troops +fired upon the vessel which carried these commissioners: + +“That these rebels endeavored to seize the Bonaparte family, which had +the good fortune to elude their pursuit: + +“That they destroyed, plundered, and burnt everything which belonged to +this family, whose sole crime consisted in their unswerving fidelity to +the republicans, and in their refusal to take any part in the scheme +of isolation, rebellion, and disloyalty, of which Paoli and the +administration of the department had become guilty. + +“I moreover declare and certify that this family, consisting of ten +individuals, and who stood high in the esteem of the people of the +island, possessed the largest property in the whole department, and that +now they are on the continent of the republic. + +“(Signed) CONTI, Proc.-Synd. Delivered on the 5th of September, 1793, +Year II. of the republic.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., +p. 52.] + +Paoli, the conqueror of the French republic, the patriotic enemy of the +Bonaparte family, drove Napoleon Bonaparte from his native soil! The +cannon of the Corsican patriots fired upon the ship on which the future +emperor of the French was steering toward his future empire! + +But this future lay still in an invisible, cloudy distance--of one +thing, however, was the young captain of artillery fully conscious: +from this hour he had broken with the past, and, by his dangers and +conflicts, by the sacrifice of his family’s property, by his flight from +Corsica, given to the world a solemn testimony that he recognized +no other country, that he owed allegiance to no other nation than to +France. He had proved that his feelings were not Corsican, but French. + +The days of his childhood and youth sank away behind him, with the +deepening shadows of the island of Corsica, and the shores which rose +before him on the horizon were the shores of France. There lay his +future--his empire! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE BEFORE TOULON. + + +Whilst Paris, yet trembling, bowed under the bloody rule of the +Convention, a spirit of opposition and horror began to stir in the +provinces; fear of the terrorists, of the Convention, began to kindle +the courage, to make defiance to these men of horror, and to put an end +to terrorism. The province of Vendee, in her faithfulness and loyalty to +the royal family, arose in deadly conflict against the republicans; +the large cities of the south, with Toulon at their head, had shielded +themselves from the horrors which the home government would have brought +them, by uniting with the enemies who now from all sides pressed upon +France. + +Toulon gave itself up to the combined fleet of England and Spain. +Marseilles, Lyons, and Nismes, contracted an alliance together, and +declared their independence of the Convention and of the terrorists. +Everywhere in all the cities and communities of the south the people +rose up, and seditions and rebellions took place. Everywhere the +Convention had to send its troops to re-establish peace by force, and +to compel the people to submit to its rule. Whole army corps had to be +raised to win back to the republic the rebellious cities, and only after +hard fighting did General Carteaux subdue Marseilles. + +But Toulon held out still, and within its protecting walls had the +majority of the inhabitants of Marseilles taken refuge before the wrath +of the Convention, which had already sent to the latter some of +its representatives, to establish there the destructive work of the +guillotine. Toulon offered them safety; it seemed impregnable, as much +by its situation as by the number and strength of its defenders. It +could also defy any siege, since the sea was open, and it could by this +channel be provisioned through the English and Spanish fleet. + +No one trembled before the little army of seventeen thousand men which, +under General Carteaux, had invested Toulon. + +But in this little army of the republicans was a young soldier whom yet +none knew, none feared, but whose fame was soon to resound throughout +the world, and before whom all Europe was soon tremblingly to bow. + +This young man was Napoleon Bonaparte, the captain of artillery. He had +come from Italy (where his regiment was) to France, to make there, by +order of his general, some purchases for the park of artillery of +the Italian army. But some of the people’s representatives had had an +opportunity of recognizing the sharp eye and the military acquirements +of the young captain of artillery; they interceded in his favor, and he +was promoted to the army corps which was before Toulon, and at once sent +in the capacity of assistant to General Carteaux, with whom also was +Napoleon’s brother Joseph, as chief of the general’s staff. + +From this moment the siege, which until now had not progressed +favorably, was pushed on with renewed energy, and it was due to the +cautious activity, the daring spirit of the captain of artillery, that +marked advantages were gained over the English, and that from them many +redoubts were taken, and the lines of the French drawn closer and closer +to the besieged city. + +But yet, after many months of siege, Toulon held out still. From the +sea came provisions and ammunition, and on the land-side Toulon was +protected against capture by a fort occupied by English troops, and +which, on account of its impregnable position, was called “Little +Gibraltar.” From this position hot-balls and howitzers had free range +all over the seaboard, for this fort stood between the two harbors +of the city and immediately opposite Toulon. The English, fully +appreciating the importance of the position, had occupied it with six +thousand men, and surrounded it with intrenchments. + +It came to this, as Napoleon in a council of war declared to the +general, that the English must be driven out of their position; then, +when this fort was taken, in two days Toulon must yield. + +The plan was decided upon, and from this moment the besiegers directed +all their strength no more against Toulon, but against the important +fort, “Little Gibraltar,” “for there,” as Napoleon said, “there was the +key to Toulon.” + +All Europe now watched with intense anxiety the events near Toulon; all +France, which hitherto with divided sentiments had wished the victory +to side now with the besieged, now with the besiegers, forgot its +differences of opinion, and was united in the one wish to expel the +hated enemy and rival, the English, from the French city, and to crown +the efforts of the French army with victory. + +The Convention, irritated that its orders should not have been +immediately carried out, had in its despotic power recalled from his +command General Carteaux, who could not succeed in capturing Toulon, +and had appointed as chief of battalion the young captain of artillery, +Napoleon Bonaparte, on account of his bravery in capturing some +dangerous redoubts. The successor of Carteaux, the old General +Dugommier, recognizing the superior mind of the young chief of +battalion, willingly followed his plans, and was readily guided and led +by the surer insight of the young man. + +The position of new Gibraltar had to be conquered so as to secure the +fall of Toulon; such was, such remained Napoleon’s unswerving judgment. +No effort, no cost, no blood, was to be spared to attain this result. He +placed new batteries against the fort; stormed the forts Malbosquet and +Ronge; a terrible struggle ensued, in which the English General O’Hara +was taken prisoner by the French, and the English had to leave the fort +and retreat into the city. + +The first great advantage was won, but Little Gibraltar remained still +in the hands of the English, and Napoleon desired, and felt it as an +obligation, to subdue it at any price. + +But already the Convention began to be discouraged, and to lose energy, +and the deputies of the people, Barras and Freron, who until now had +remained with the besieging army, hastened to Paris to implore the +Convention to give up the siege, and to recall the army from Toulon. + +But before they reached Paris the matter was to be decided before +Toulon. The fate of the Little Gibraltar was to be fulfilled; it was to +be taken, or in the storming of it the French army was to perish. + +Thousands of shells were thrown into the fort, thirty cannon thundered +against it. Napoleon Bonaparte mixed with the artillerymen, encouraged +by his bold words their activity, their energy, and their bravery, and +pointed to them the spots where to direct their balls. Whilst he was +in conversation with one of the cannoneers near whom he stood, a +cannon-ball from the English tore away the head of the artilleryman who +had just lifted up the match to fire his cannon. + +Napoleon quietly took up the burning match out of the hand of the dead +man, and discharged the gun. Then, with all the zeal and tact of an +experienced cannoneer, he began to load the piece, to send forth its +balls against the enemy and for many hours he remained at this post, +until another artilleryman was found to relieve the chief of division. +[Footnote: This brave action of Napoleon was to have for him evil +results. The cannoneer, from whose hand he took the match, was suffering +from the most distressing skin-disease, generally breaking out with the +greatest violence in the hand. The match which the cannoneer had for +hours held in his hand was yet warm with its pressure, and imparted to +Napoleon’s hand the poison of the contagious disease. For years he had +to endure the eruption, which he could not conquer, as he had conquered +nations and princes, but to its destructive and painful power he had +to subdue his body. The nervous agitations to which he was subject, the +shrugging of his right shoulder, the white-greenish complexion of his +face, the leanness of his body, were all consequences of this disease. +It was only when Napoleon had become emperor, that Corvisart succeeded, +by his eloquence, in persuading him to follow a regular course of +treatment. This treatment cured him; his white-greenish complexion and +his leanness disappeared. The nervous movement of the shoulder remained, +and became a habit.--See “Memoires de Constant,” vol. i.] + +But whilst Napoleon made himself a cannoneer in the service of his +country, he remained at the same time the chief of division, whose +attention was everywhere, whose eagle glance nothing escaped, and who +knew how to improve every advantage. + +A body of troops was at a distant point, and Bonaparte wanted to send +them an important order. Whilst loading his cannon, he called aloud +to an under-officer to whom he might dictate the dispatch. A young man +hastened to the call, and said he was ready to write. Upon a mound of +sand he unfolded his pocket-book, drew out of it a piece of paper, and +began to write what Napoleon, with a voice above the cannon’s roar, +was dictating to him. At this very moment, as the order was written, +a cannon-ball fell quite near the officer, burrowing the ground, and +scattering some of the light sand over the written paper. The young man +raised his hat and made a bow to the cannon-ball, that buried itself in +the sand. + +“I thank you,” said he, “you have saved me sand for my paper.” + +Napoleon smiled, and looked with a joyous, sympathizing glance at the +young officer, whose handsome pleasing countenance was radiant with bold +daring and harmless merriment. + +“Now, I need a brave messenger to carry this order to that exposed +detachment,” said Napoleon. + +“I will be the messenger,” cried out the officer, eagerly. + +“Well, I accept you, but you must remove your uniform, and put on a +blouse, so as not to be too much exposed.” + +“That I will not do,” exclaimed the young man. “I am no spy.” + +“What! you refuse to obey?” asked Napoleon, threateningly. + +“No, I refuse to assume a disguise,” answered the officer “I am ready to +obey, and even to carry the order into the very hands of the devil. +But with my uniform I go, otherwise those cursed Englishmen might well +imagine that I am afraid of them.” + +“But you imperil your life if you go in your glittering uniform.” + +“My life does not belong to me,” cried out gayly the young soldier. “Who +cares if I risk it? You will not be sorry about it, for you know me +not, citizen-officer, and it is all the same to me. Shall I not go in +my uniform? I should be delighted to encounter those English gentlemen, +for, with my sword and the sprightly grains in my patron’s pocket, +the conversation will not sleep, I vow. Now, then, shall I go, +citizen-officer?” + +“Go,” said Napoleon, smiling. “But you are wrong if you think I will +not be sorry in case you pay this duty with your life. You are a brave +fellow, and I love the brave. Go; but first tell me your name, that when +you return I may tell General Dugommier what name he has to inscribe in +his papers of recommendation for officers; that will be the reward for +your message.” + +“My name is Junot, citizen-officer,” exclaimed the young man as, +swinging the paper in his hand, he darted away eagerly. + +The roar of the cannon was still heard, when Napoleon’s messenger +returned, after a few hours, and reported to him. The chief of division +received him with a friendly motion of his head. + +“Welcome, Junot,” said he. “I am glad to see you back, and that you +have successfully accomplished your task. I must now make a change of +position in yonder battallion. To-morrow I will give you your commission +of lieutenant, citizen-soldier.” + +“And to-day grant me a nobler reward, citizen-officer,” said the young +man, tenderly; “give me your hand, and allow me to press it in mine.” + +Napoleon, smiling, gave him his hand. The eyes of both young men met in +radiant looks, and with these looks was sealed the covenant which united +them both in a friendship enduring to the tomb. For not one of his +companions-in-arms remained attached to Napoleon with so warm, true, +nearly impassioned tenderness as Junot, and none of them was by the +general, the consul, the emperor, more implicitly trusted, more heartily +beloved than his Junot, whom he exalted to the ranks of general, +governor of Lisbon, Duke d’Abrantes, who was one of the few to whom +in his days of glory he allowed to speak to him in all truth, in all +freedom, and without reserve. + +But whilst the two young men were sealing this covenant of friendship +with this look of spiritual recognition, the cannon was thundering forth +on all sides. The earth trembled from the reports of the pieces; all the +elements seemed unloosed; the storm howled as if to mingle the noise +of human strife with the uproar of Nature; the sea dashed its frothy, +mound-like waves with terrible noise on the shore; the rain poured down +from the skies in immense torrents, and everything around was veiled in +mists of dampness and smoke. And amid all this, crackled, thundered, +and hissed the shells which were directed against Little Gibraltar, or +whizzed from Toulon, to bring death and destruction among the besiegers. + +Night sank down, and yet Little Gibraltar was not taken. “I am lost,” + sighed General Dugommier. “I shall have to pay with my head, if we are +forced to retreat.” + +“Then we must go forward,” cried Bonaparte; “we must have Little +Gibraltar.” + +An hour after, a loud cry of victory announced to General Dugommier that +the chief of division had reached his aim, that Little Gibraltar was +captured by the French. + +As the day began to dawn, the French had already captured two other +forts; and Bonaparte roused all his energies to fire from Little +Gibraltar upon the enemy’s fleet. But the English admiral, Lord Hood, +knew very well the terrible danger to which he was exposed if he did not +at once weigh anchor. + +The chief of division had prophesied correctly: in Little Gibraltar was +the key of Toulon; and since the French had now seized the keys, the +English ships could no longer close the city against them. Toulon was +lost--it had to surrender to the conquerors. [Footnote: Toulon fell on +the 18th of December, 1793.] + +It is true, defensive operations were still carried on, but Napoleon’s +balls scattered death and ruin into the city; the bursting of shells +brought destruction and suffering everywhere, and in the city as well as +in the harbor columns of flames arose from houses and ships. + +Toulon was subdued; and the chief of division, Napoleon Bonaparte, had +achieved his first brilliant pass of arms before jubilant France and +astonished Europe; he had made his name shine out from the obscurity of +the past, and placed it on the pages of history. + +The Convention showed itself thankful to the daring soldier, who had +won such a brilliant victory alike over the foreign as well as over the +internal enemies of the republic; and Napoleon Bonaparte, the chief of +division, was now promoted to the generalship of division. + +He accepted the nomination with a quiet smile. The wondrous brilliancy +of his eyes betrayed only to a few friends and confidants the important +resolves and thoughts which moved the soul of the young general. + +In virtue of the order of the Convention, the newly-appointed General +Bonaparte was to go to the army of the republic which was now stationed +in Italy; and he received secret instructions from the Directory +concerning Genoa. Bonaparte left Paris, to gather, as he hoped, fresh +laurels and new victories. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. BONAPARTE’S IMPRISONMENT. + + +On the 25th day of March, 1794. General Bonaparte entered the +headquarters of the French army in Nice. He was welcomed with joy and +marks of distinction, for the fame of his heroic deeds before Toulon +had preceded him; and on Bonaparte’s pale, proud face, with its dark, +brilliant eyes, was written that he was now come into Italy to add fresh +laurels to the victor’s crown won before Toulon. + +The old commander-in-chief of the French army, General Dumerbion, +confined oftentimes to his bed through sickness, was very willing to be +represented by General Bonaparte, and to place every thing in his hands; +and the two representatives of the people, Ricord and Robespierre (the +younger brother of the all-powerful dictator)--these two representatives +in the army corps of Italy bound themselves in intimate friendship with +the young general, who seemed to share their glowing enthusiasm for the +republic, and their hatred against the monarchy and the aristocrats. +They cherished, moreover, an unreserved confidence in the military +capacities of young Bonaparte, and always gave to his plans their +unconditional assent and approbation. Upon Napoleon’s suggestion +batteries were erected on the coast of Provence for the security of the +fleet and of trading-vessels; and when this had been accomplished, +the general began to carry out the plan which he had laid before the +representatives of the republic, and according to which the republican +army, with its right and left wings advancing simultaneously on the +sea-coast, was to march through the neutral territory of Genoa into +Italy. + +This plan of Bonaparte was crowned with the most unexpected success. +Without observing the neutrality of Genoa, Generals Massena and Arena +marched through the territory of the proud Italian republic, and thus +began the bloody war which was to desolate the Italian soil for so many +years. + +Ever faithful to Bonaparte’s war-schemes, which the general-in-chief, +Dumerbion, and the two representatives of the people, Ricord and +Robespierre, had sanctioned, the French columns moved from the valleys, +within whose depths they had so long and so uselessly shed their +blood, up to the heights and conquered the fortresses which the King of +Sardinia had built on the mountains for the protection of his frontiers. +Thus Fort Mirabocco, on the pass of the Cross, fell into the hands of +General Dumas, who then conquered the intrenched Mount Cenis; thus the +pass of Tenda, with the fortress Saorgio, was captured by the French; +and there, in the general depot of the Piedmontese army, they found +sixty cannon and war materials of all kinds. + +The French had celebrated their first victories in Italy, and both +commanding officers of the fortresses of Mirabocco and Saorgio had to +pay for these triumphs in Turin with the loss of their lives; whilst +General Bonaparte, “as the one to whose well-matured plans and +arrangements these brilliant results were due,” received from the +Convention brilliant encomiums. + +But suddenly the state of affairs assumed another shape, and at one blow +all the hopes and plans of the young, victorious general were destroyed. + +Maximilian Robespierre had fallen; with him fell the whole party; then +fell his brother, who a short time before had returned to Paris, and had +there endeavored to obtain from Maximilian new and more ample powers +for Bonaparte, and even the appointment to the chief command of the +army--there fell also Ricord, who had given to General Bonaparte the +letter of secret instructions for energetic negotiations with the +government of Genoa, and to carry out which instructions Bonaparte had +at this time gone to that city. + +As he was returning to his headquarters in Saona, from Paris had arrived +the new representatives, who came to the army of Italy as delegates of +the Convention, and were armed with full powers. + +These representatives were Salicetti, Albitte, and Laporte. The first of +these, a countryman of Bonaparte, had been thus far his friend and his +party associate. He was in Corsica at the same time as Napoleon, in the +year 1793; he had been, like his young friend, a member of the Jacobin +Club of Ajaccio, and Salicetti’s speeches had not been inferior to those +of Napoleon, either in wildness or in exalted republicanism. + +But now Salicetti had become the representative of the moderate party; +and it was highly important for him to establish himself securely in his +new position, and to give to the Convention a proof of the firmness +of his sentiments by manifesting the hatred which he had sworn to the +terrorists, and to all those who, under the fallen regime, had obtained +recognition and distinction. + +General Bonaparte had been a friend of the young Robespierre; loudly and +openly he had expressed his republican and democratic sentiments; he +had been advanced under the administration of Robespierre, from +simple lieutenant to general; he had been sent to Genoa, with secret +instructions by the representatives of the Committee of Safety, made up +of terrorists--all this was sufficient to make him appear suspicious +to the moderate party, and to furnish Salicetti an opportunity to show +himself a faithful partisan of the new system of moderation. + +General Bonaparte was, by order of the representatives of the people, +Salicetti and Albitte, arrested at his headquarters in Saona, because, +as the warrant for arrest, signed by both representatives, asserted: +“General Bonaparte had completely lost their confidence through his +suspicious demeanor, and especially through the journey which he had +lately made to Genoa.” The warrant of arrest furthermore ordered +that General Bonaparte, whose effects should be sealed and his papers +examined, was to be sent to Paris, under sure escort, and be brought for +examination before the Committee of Safety. + +If this order were carried into execution, then Bonaparte was lost; for, +though Robespierre had fallen, yet with his fall the system of blood and +terror had not been overthrown in Paris; it had only changed its name. + +The terrorists, who now called themselves the moderates, exercised the +same system of intimidation as their predecessors; and to be brought +before the Committee of Safety, signified the same thing as to receive a +death-warrant. + +Bonaparte was lost, if it truly came to this, that he must be led to +Paris. + +This was what Junot, the present adjutant of Napoleon, and his faithful +friend and companion, feared. It was therefore necessary to anticipate +this order, and to procure freedom to Bonaparte. + +A thousand schemes for the rescue of his beloved chief, crossed the soul +of the young man. But how make them known to the general? how induce +him to flee, since all approaches to him were forbidden? His zeal, his +inventive friendship, succeeded at last in finding a means. One of the +soldiers, who was placed as sentry at the door of the arrested general, +was bribed by Junot; through him a letter from Junot reached Bonaparte’s +hands, which laid before him a scheme of flight that the next night +could be accomplished with Junot’s help. + +Not far from Bonaparte’s dwelling Junot awaited the answer, and soon a +soldier passed by and brought it to him. + +This answer ran thus: “In the propositions you make, I acknowledge your +deep friendship, my dear Junot; you are also conscious of the friendship +I have consecrated to you for a long time, and I trust you have +confidence in it. + +“Man may do wrong toward me, my dear Junot; it is enough for me to be +innocent; my conscience is the tribunal which I recognize as sole judge +of my conduct. + +“This conscience is quiet when I question it; do, therefore, nothing, +if you do not wish to compromise me. Adieu, dear Junot. Farewell, and +friendship.” [Footnote: Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 241.] + +Meanwhile, notwithstanding his quiet conscience, Bonaparte was not +willing to meet his fate passively and silently, and, perchance, it +seemed to him that it was “not enough to be innocent,” so as to be +saved from the guillotine. He therefore addressed a protest to both +representatives of the people who had ordered his arrest, and this +protest, which he dictated to his friend Junot, who had finally +succeeded in coming to Bonaparte, is so extraordinary and so peculiar +in its terseness of style, in its expressions of political sentiment; it +furnishes so important a testimony of the republican democratic opinions +of the young twenty-six-year-old general, that we cannot but give here +this document. + +Bonaparte then dictated to his friend Junot as follows: + +“To the representatives Salicetti and Albitte: + +“You have deprived me of my functions, you have arrested me and declared +me suspected. + +“I am, then, ruined without being condemned; or else, which is much more +correct, I am condemned without being heard. + +“In a revolutionary state exist two classes: the suspected and the +patriots. + +“When those of the first class are accused, they are treated as the +common law of safety provides. + +“The oppression of those of the second class is the ruin of public +liberty. The judge must condemn only after mature deliberation, and when +a series of unimpeachable facts reaches the guilty. + +“To denounce a patriot as guilty is a condemnation which deprives him of +what is most dear--confidence and esteem. + +“In which class am I to be ranked? + +“Have I not been, since the beginning of the revolution, faithful to its +principles? + +“Have I not always been seen at war with enemies at home, or as a +soldier against the foreign foe? + +“I have sacrificed my residence in my country and my property to the +republic; I have lost all for her. + +“By serving my country with some distinction at Toulon and in the +Italian army, I have had my share in the laurels which that army has won +at Saorgio, Queille, and Tanaro. + +“At the time of the discovery of Robespierre’s conspiracy, my conduct +was that of a man who is accustomed to recognize principles only. + +“It is therefore impossible to refuse me the title of patriot. + +“Why, then, am I declared suspect without being heard? Why am I arrested +eight days after the news of the death of the tyrant? + +“I am declared suspect, and my papers are sealed! + +“The reverse ought to have taken place: my papers ought to have been +unsealed; I ought to have been tried; explanations ought to have been +sought for, and then I might have been declared suspect if there were +sufficient motives for it. + +“It is decided that I must go to Paris under a warrant of arrest +which declares me suspect. In Paris they will conclude that the +representatives have acted thus only after sufficient examination, and I +shall be condemned with the sympathy which a man of that class deserves. + +“Innocent, patriotic, slandered, whatever may be the measures which the +committee take, I cannot complain. + +“If three men were to declare that I have committed a crime, I could not +complain if the jury should declare me guilty. + +“Salicetti, you know me. Have you, during the five years of our +acquaintance, found in my conduct any thing which could be suspected as +against the revolution? + +“Albitte, you know me not. No one can have given you convincing +evidence against me. You have not heard me; you know, however, with what +smoothness calumny oftentimes whispers. + +“Must I then be taken for an enemy of my country? Must the patriots +ruin, without any regard, a general who has not been entirely useless +to the republic? Must the representatives place the government under the +necessity of acting unjustly and impolitically? + +“Mark my words; destroy the oppression which binds me down, and +re-establish me in the esteem of the patriots. + +“If, then, at some future hour, the wicked shall still long for my +life, well, then I consider it of so little importance--I have so often +despised it--yes, the mere thought that it can be useful to the country, +enables me to bear its burden with courage.” [Footnote: Bourienne, +“Memoires sur Napoleon,” etc., vol. i., p. 63.] + +Whether these energetic protestations of Bonaparte, or whether some +other motives, conduced to the result, Salicetti thought that with +Napoleon’s arrest he had furnished sufficient proof of his patriotic +sentiments; it seemed to him enough to have obscured the growing fame +of the young general, and to have plunged back into obscurity and +forgetfulness him whose first steps in life’s career promised such a +radiant and glorious course! + +It matters not, however, what circumstances may have wrought out; the +representatives Salicetti and Albitte issued a decree in virtue of +which General Bonaparte was, after mature consideration and thorough +examination of his papers, declared innocent and free from all +suspicion. Consequently, Bonaparte was temporarily set at liberty; but +he was suspended from his command in the Italian army, and was recalled +to Paris, there to be made acquainted with his future destination. + +This destination was pointed out to him in a commission as +brigadier-general of infantry in the province of Vendee, there to lead +on the fratricidal strife against the fanatical Chouans, the faithful +adherents of the king. + +Bonaparte refused this offer--first, because it seemed to him an +insulting request to ask him to fight against his own countrymen; and +secondly, because he did not wish to enter the infantry service, but to +remain in the artillery. + +The Committee of Safety responded to this refusal of Bonaparte by +striking his name from the list of generals appointed for promotion, +because he had declined to go to the post assigned him. + +This decision fell upon the ambitious, heroic young man like a +thunderbolt. He had dreamed of brilliant war deeds, of laurels, of fame, +of a glorious future, won for him by his own sword; and now, all at +once, he saw himself dragged away from this luminous track of fame upon +which he had so brilliantly entered--he saw himself thrust back into +obscurity, forgetfulness, and inactivity. + +A gloomy, misanthropic sentiment took possession of him; and, though a +prophetic voice within said that the future still belonged to him, with +its fame, its laurels, its victories, yet inactivity, care, and the +wants of the present, hung with oppressive weight upon his mind. + +He withdrew from all social joys and recreations, he avoided his +acquaintances, and only to a few friends did he open his foreboding +heart; only with these did he associate, and to them alone he made his +complaints of broken hopes, of life’s career destroyed. + +To these few friends, whom Bonaparte in his misfortune found faithful +and unchanged, belonged the Ferment family, and above all belonged +Junot, who had come to Paris at the same time as Bonaparte, and who, +though the latter was dismissed from the service, continued to call +himself the adjutant of General Bonaparte. + +In the Permont family Napoleon was received with the same friendship and +attention as in former days; Madame de Permont retained ever for the son +of the friend of her youth, Letitia, a kindly smile, a genial sympathy, +an intelligent appreciation of his plans and wishes; her husband +manifested toward him all the interest of a parental regard; her son +Albert was full of tenderness and admiration for him; and her younger +daughter Laura jested and conversed with him as with a beloved brother. + +In this house every thing seemed pleasant and friendly to Bonaparte; +thither he came every day, and mixed with the social circles, which +gathered in the evening in the drawing-rooms of the beautiful, witty +Madame de Permont; and where men even of diverging political sentiments, +aristocrats and ci-devants of the first water, were to be found. But +Madame de Permont had forbidden all political discussion in her saloon; +and General Bonaparte, now compelled to inactivity, dared no more show +his anger against the Committee of Safety, or against the Convention, +than the Count de Montmorency or any of the proud ladies of the former +quarter of St. Germain. + +Not only the inactivity to which he was condemned, not only the +destruction of all his ambitious hopes, burdened the mind of Bonaparte, +but also the material pressure under which he now and then found +himself, and which seemed to him a shame and a humiliation. With gloomy +grudge he gazed at those young elegants whom he met on the Boulevards +in splendid toilet, on superb horses--at these incroyables who, in the +first rays of the sun of peace, from the soil of the republic, yet moist +with blood, had sprung up as so many mushrooms of divers colors and +varied hues. + +“And such men enjoy their happiness!” exclaimed Bonaparte, +contemptuously, as once in the Champs Elysees he sat before a +coffee-house, near one of those incroyables, and with violent emotion +starting up, he pushed his seat back and nearly broke the feet of his +exquisitely dressed neighbor. + +To be forgotten, to be set in the background, to be limited in means, +was always to him a source of anger, which manifested itself now in +impassioned vehemence, now in vague, gloomy dreaminess, from which +he would rise up again with some violent sarcasm or some epigrammatic +remark. + +But whilst he thus suffered, was in want, and had so much to endure, his +mind and heart were always busy. His mind was framing new plans to +bring to an end these days of inactivity, to open a new path of fame and +glory; his heart dreamed of a sweet bliss, of another new love! + +The object of this love was the sister of his brother’s wife, the +young Desiree Clary. Joseph Bonaparte, who was now in Marseilles as +war-commissioner, had married there one of the daughters of the rich +merchant Clary; and her younger sister Desiree was the one to whom +Napoleon had devoted his heart. The whole Bonaparte family was now in +Marseilles, and had decided to make their permanent residence in France, +as their return to Corsica was still impossible; for General Paoli, no +longer able to hold the island, had called the English to his help, and +the assembled Consulta, over which Paoli presided, had invited the King +of England to become sovereign of the island. The French party, at whose +head had been the Bonaparte family, was overcome, and could no longer +lift up head or voice. + +Bonaparte came often to Marseilles to visit his family, which consisted +of his mother Letitia, her three daughters, her two younger sons, and +her brother, the Abbe Fesch. There, he had seen every day, in the house +of his brother, Desiree Clary, and the beautiful, charming maid had not +failed to leave in the heart of the young general a deep impression. +Desiree seemed to return this inclination, and a union of the two young +lovers might soon have taken place, if fate, in the shape of accident, +had not prevented it. + +Joseph was sent by the Committee of Safety to Genoa, with instructions; +his young wife and her sister Desiree accompanied him. Perhaps the +new, variable impressions of the journey, perhaps her separation from +Bonaparte, and her association with other officers less gloomy than the +saturnine Napoleon, all this seemed to cool the love of Desiree Clary; +she no more answered Napoleon’s letters, and, in writing to his brother +Joseph, he made bitter complaints: “It seems that to reach Genoa the +River Lethe must first be crossed, and therefore Desiree writes no +more.” [Footnote: See “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i.] + +The only confidant to whom Bonaparte imparted these heart-complaints, +was Junot. He had for him no secrecy of his innermost and deepest +inclinations; to him he complained with grave and impassioned words +of Desiree’s changeableness; and Junot, whose worshipful love for his +friend could not understand that any maiden, were she the most beautiful +and glorious on earth, could ever slight the inclination of General +Bonaparte, Junot shared his wrath against Desiree, who had begun the +rupture between them by leaving unanswered two of Napoleon’s letters. + +After having been angry and having complained in concert with Bonaparte, +Junot’s turn to be confidential had come. Bewildered, and blushing like +a young maid, he avowed to his dear general that he also loved, and that +he could hope for happiness and joy only if Napoleon’s younger sister, +the beautiful little Pauline, would be his wife. + +Bonaparte listened to him with a frowning countenance, and when Junot +ended by asking his mediation with Pauline’s mother, Napoleon asked in +a grave tone, “But, what have you to live upon? Can you support Pauline? +Can you, with her, establish a household which will be safe against +want?” + +Junot, radiant with joy, told him how, anticipating this question of +Napoleon, he had written to his father, and had asked for information +in regard to his means; and that his father had just now answered his +questions, and had replied that for the present he could not give him +anything, but that after his death the inheritance of his son would +amount to twenty thousand francs. + +“I shall be one day rich,” exclaimed Junot, gayly, as he handed to +Napoleon the letter of his father, “for with my pay I will have an +income of twelve hundred livres. My general, I beseech you, write to +the Citoyenne Bonaparte; tell her that you have read the letter of my +father, and say a good word in my favor.” + +Bonaparte did not at once reply. He attentively read the letter of +Junot, senior, then returned it to his friend, and with head sunk down +upon his breast he stared gloomily, with contracted eyebrows. + +“You answer not, general,” exclaimed Junot, in extreme anguish. “You do +not wish to be my mediator?” + +Bonaparte raised his head; his cheeks were paler than before, and a +gloomy expression was in his eyes. + +“I cannot write to my mother to make her this proposition,” said he, in +a rough, severe tone. “That is impossible, my friend. You say that one +day you will have an income of twelve hundred livres. That is, indeed, +very fair, but you have them not now. Besides, your father’s health is +remarkably good, and he will make you wait a long time. For the present +you have nothing; for your lieutenant’s epaulets can be reckoned as +nothing. As regards Pauline, she has not even that much. Let us then +sum up: you have nothing; she has nothing! What is the total amount? +Nothing. You cannot, therefore, be married now: let us wait. We shall, +perhaps, friend, outlive these evil days. Yes, we shall outlive them, +even if I have to become an exile, to seek for them in another portion +of the world! Let us, then, wait!” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s words.--See +Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 284.] + +And a wondrous, mysterious brilliancy and flash filled the eyes of +General Bonaparte, as with a commanding voice he repeated, “Let us +wait!” + +Was this one of those few and pregnant moments in which the mind with +prophetic power gazes into the future? Had a corner of the veil which +hid the future been lifted up before the glowing eagle-eye of Napoleon, +and did he see the splendor and the glory of that future which were to +be his? However great his imagination, however ambitious his dreams, +however wide his hopes, yet they all were to be one day surpassed by +the reality. For would he not have considered a madman him, who, at this +hour, would have told him: “Smooth the furrows on your brow, Bonaparte; +be not downcast about the present. You are now in want, you are thrust +aside; forgetfulness and obscurity are now your lot; but be of good +cheer, you will be emperor, and all Europe will lie trembling at your +feet. You love the young Desiree Clary, and her indifference troubles +you; but be of good cheer, you will one day marry the daughter of +a Caesar, and the little Desiree, the daughter of a merchant from +Marseilles, will one day be Sweden’s queen! You refuse to Junot, your +friend, the gratification of his wishes, because he possesses nothing +but his officer’s epaulets: but be of good cheer, for you will one day +convert the little Lieutenant Junot into a duke, and give him a kingdom +for a dowry! You feel downhearted and ashamed, because your sister +Pauline is not rich, because she possesses nothing but her beauty and +her name: but be of good cheer, she will one day be the wife of the +wealthiest prince of Italy; all the treasures of art will be gathered +in her palace, and yet she will be the most precious ornament of that +palace!” + +Surely the General Bonaparte would have laughed at the madman, who, in +the year 1795, should have thus spoken to him--and yet a mere decade of +years was to suffice for the realization of all these prophecies, and to +turn the incredible into a reality. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. THE THIRTEENTH VENDEMIAIRE. + + +The days of terror, and of blood, under which France has sighed so long, +were not to end with the fall of Robespierre. Another enemy of the rest +and peace of France had now made its entrance into Paris--hunger began +to exercise its dreary rale of horror, and to fill the hearts of men +with rage and despair. + +Everywhere throughout France the crops had failed, and the republic had +too much to do with the guillotine, with the political struggles in the +interior, with the enemies on the frontier, she had been so busy with +the heads of her children, that she could have no care for the welfare +of their stomachs. + +The corn-magazines were empty, and in the treasury of the republican +government there was no money to buy grain in foreign markets. Very soon +the want of bread, the cry for food, made itself felt everywhere; soon +hunger goaded into new struggles of despair the poor Parisian people, +already so weary with political storms, longing for rest, and exhausted +by conflicts. Hunger drove them again into politics, hunger converted +the women into demons, and their husbands into fanatical Jacobins. Every +day, tumults and seditious gatherings took place in Paris; the murmuring +and howling crowd threatened to rise up. Every day appeared at the bar +of the Convention the sections of Paris, entreating with wild cries for +a remedy for their distress. At every step in the streets one was met by +intoxicated women, who tried to find oblivion of their hunger in wine, +and to whom, notwithstanding their drunkenness, the consciousness of +their calamity remained. These drunken women, with the gestures of +madness, shouted: “Bread! give us bread! We had bread at least in the +year ‘93! Bread! Down with the republic! Down with the Convention, which +leaves us to starve!” + +To these shouts responded other masses of the people: “Down with the +constitutionalists! Long live the Mountain! Long live the Convention!” + +Civil war, which in its exhaustion had remained subdued for a moment, +threatened to break out with renewed rage, for the parties stood +face to face in determined hostility, and “Down with the +constitutionalists!--down with the republicans!” was the watchword of +these parties. + +For a moment it seemed as if the Mountain, as if the revolution, would +regain the ascendency, as if the terrorists would once more seize +the rudder which had slipped from their blood-stained hands. But the +Convention, which for a time had remained undecided, trembling and +vacillating, rose at length from its lethargy to firm, energetic +measures, and came to the determination to restore peace at any price. + +The people, stirred up by the terrorists, the furious men of the +Mountain, had to be reduced to silence, and the cry, “Long live the +constitution of ‘93!--down with the Convention!”--this cry, which every +day rolled on through the streets of Paris like the vague thunderings +of the war-drum,--had to be put down by armed force. Barrere, +Collot d’Herbois, Billaud Varennes, the remnant of the sanguinary +administration of Robespierre, the terrorists who excited the people +against the Convention, who pressed on the Thermidorists, and wanted +to occupy their place, these were the ones who with their adherents +and friends threatened the Convention and imperilled its existence. The +Convention rose up in its might and punished these leaders of sedition, +so as through fear and horror to disperse the masses of the people. + +Barrere, Collot d’Herbois, and Billaud Varennes, were arrested and sent +to Cayenne; six of their friends, six republicans and terrorists, were +also seized, and as they were convicted of forging plots against the +Convention and the actual administration, they were sentenced to death. +A seventh had also been at the head of this conspiracy; and this seventh +one, who with the others had been sentenced to death, and whom the +Committee of Safety had watched for everywhere, to bring down upon him +the chastisement due, this seventh one was Salicetti--the same Salicetti +who after the fall of Robespierre had arrested General Bonaparte as +suspect. Bonaparte had never forgiven him, and though he often met him +in the house of Madame de Permont, and appeared to be reconciled with +him, yet he could not forget that he was the one who had stopped him +in the midst of his course of fame, that it was he who had debarred him +from his whole career. + +“Salicetti has done me much harm,” said Bonaparte to Madame de Permont, +and a strange look from his eyes met her face--“Salicetti has destroyed +my future in its dawn. He has blighted my plans of fame in their bud. +I repeat, he has done me much harm. He has been my evil spirit. I +can never forget it,” but added he, thoughtfully, “I will now try to +forgive.” [Footnote: Abrantes, vol. i, p. 300.] + +And again a peculiar, searching look of his eyes met the face of Madame +de Permont. + +She, however, turned aside, she avoided his look, for she dared not tell +him that Salicetti, for whom the Convention searched throughout Paris so +as to bring upon him the execution of his death-warrant--that Salicetti, +whom Bonaparte so fiercely hated, was hid a few steps from him in the +little cabinet near the drawing-room. + +Like Bonaparte, Salicetti was the countryman of Madame de Permont; in +the days of his power, he had saved the husband and the son of Panonia +from the persecution of the terrorists, and lie had now come to ask +safety from those whom he had once saved. + +Madame de Permont had not had the courage to refuse an asylum to +Salicetti; she kept him secreted in her house for weeks; and during all +these weeks, Bonaparte came daily to visit Madame de Permont and her +children, and every day he turned the conversation upon Salicetti, and +asked if they knew not yet where he was secreted. And every time, when +Madame de Permont answered him in the negative, he gazed at her with a +piercing look, and with his light, sarcastic smile. + +Meanwhile Salicetti’s danger for himself, and those who secreted him, +increased every day, and Madame de Permont resolved to quit Paris. +The sickness of her husband, who was in Toulon, furnished her with the +welcomed opportunity of a journey. She made known to the friends and +acquaintances who visited her house, and especially to Bonaparte, that +she had received a letter from the physician in Toulon, requesting her +presence at her husband’s bed of sickness. Bonaparte read the letter, +and again the same strange look met the face of Madame de Permont. + +“It is, indeed, important,” said he, “that you should travel, and I +advise you to do so as soon as possible. Fatal consequences might ensue +to M. de Permont, were you to delay any longer in going to Toulon.” + +Madame de Permont made, therefore, all her arrangements for this +journey. Salicetti, disguised as a servant, was to accompany her. +Bonaparte still came as usual every day, and took great interest in +the preparations for her journey, and conversed with her in the most +friendly and pleasant manner. On the day of departure, he saluted her +most cordially, assured her of his true, unswerving attachment, and, +with a final, significant look, expressed a wish that her journey might +be accomplished without danger. + +When Madame de Permont had overcome all difficulties, and she and her +daughter had left Paris and passed the barriere, as the carriage rolled +on without interruption (Salicetti, disguised as a servant, sitting +near the postilion on the driver’s seat), the housemaid handed to her +a letter which General Bonaparte had given her, with positive orders to +hand it to her mistress only when they should be beyond the outer gates +of Paris. + +The letter ran thus: “I have never been deceived: I would seem to be in +your estimation, if I did not tell you that, for the last twenty days, I +knew that Salicetti was secreted in your house. Remember what I told +you on the first day, Prairial, Madame de Permont--I had then the mental +conviction of this secrecy. Now it is a matter of fact.--Salicetti, you +see I could have returned to you the wrong which you perpetrated against +me, and by so doing I should have revenged myself, whilst you wronged +me without any offence on my part. Who plays at this moment the nobler +part, you or I? Yes, I could have revenged myself, and I have not done +it. You will, perhaps, say that your benefactress acted as a protecting +shield. That is true, and it also is taken into consideration. Yet, +even without this consideration, such as you were--alone, disarmed, +sentenced--your head would even then have been sacred to me. Go, seek in +peace a refuge where you can rise to nobler sentiments for your country. +My mouth remains closed in reference to your name, and will no more +utter it. Repent, and, above all things, do justice to my intentions. I +deserve it, for they are noble and generous. + +“Madame de Permont, my best wishes accompany you and your daughter. You +are two frail beings, without protection. Providence and prayers will +accompany you. Be prudent, and during your journey never stop in large +towns. Farewell, and receive the assurance of my friendship.” [Footnote: +Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 351.] + +The nobility of mind which Bonaparte displayed toward his enemy was +soon to receive its reward; for, whilst Salicetti, a fugitive, sick, +and sentenced to death, was compelled to remain hidden, Bonaparte was +emerging from the oblivion to which the ambitious zeal of Salicetti +would have consigned him. + +When Napoleon, dismissed from his position, arrived in Paris, and +appealed to Aubry, the chief of the war department, to be re-established +in his command, he was told: “Bonaparte is too young to command an army +as general-in-chief;” and Bonaparte answered: “One soon becomes old on +the battle-field, and I come from it.” [Footnote: Norvins, “Histoire de +Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 60.] + +But Aubry, in his functions of chief of the war department, was soon +superseded by the representative Douclet de Ponte-Coulant, and this +event gave to the position of the young general a different aspect. +Ponte-Coulant had for some time followed with attention the course of +the young general, whose military talents and warlike reputation had +filled him with astonishment. He had especially been surprised at +the plan for the conduct of the war and the conquest of Italy which +Bonaparte had laid before the war committee. Now that Ponte-Coulant had +been promoted to be chief of the war department, he sent for General +Bonaparte, and attached him to the topographic committee, where the +plans of campaigns were decided and the movements of each separate corps +delineated. + +The forgotten one, doomed to inactivity, General Napoleon Bonaparte, now +arose from his obscurity, and before him again opened life, the world, +and fame’s pathway, which was to lead him up to a throne. But the envy +and jealousy of the party-men of the Convention ever threw obstacles +before him on his glorious course, and the war-scheme which he +now unfolded to the committee for the campaign did not receive the +approbation of the successor of Ponte-Coulant in the war department, and +it was thrust aside. A new political crisis was needed to place in the +hands of Napoleon the command of the army, the ruling authority over +France, and this crisis was at hand. + +Paris, diseased, still bleeding in its innermost life with a thousand +wounds, was devoured by hunger. The unfortunate people, wretched from +want and pain, during many past years, were now driven to despair. The +political party leaders understood but too well how to take advantage of +this, and to prey upon it. The royalists were busy instilling into the +people’s minds the idea that the return of the Bourbons would restore +to miserable France peace and happiness. The terrorists told the people +that the Convention was the sole obstacle to their rest and to their +peace, that it was necessary to scatter it to the winds, and to +re-establish the Constitution of 1793. The whole population of Paris was +divided and broken into factions, struggling one against the other with +infuriated passions. The royalists, strengthened by daily accessions +of emigrants, who, under fictitious names and with false passports, +returned to Paris to claim the benefit of the milder laws passed in +their favor, constituted a formidable power in that city. Whole sections +were devoted to them, and were secretly supplied by them with arms and +provisions, so as finally to be prepared to act against the Convention. +An occasion soon presented itself. + +The Convention had, through eleven of its committee members, prepared +a new constitution, and had laid it before the people for adoption or +rejection, according to the majority of votes. The whole country, with +the exception of Paris, was in favor of this new constitution--she +alone in her popular assemblies rejected it, declared the Convention +dissolved, and the armed sections arose to make new elections. The +Convection declared these assemblies to be illegal, and ordered their +dissolution. The armed sections made resistance, congregated together, +and by force opposed the troops of the Convention--the National +Guards--commanded by General Menou. On the 12th Vendemiaire all Paris +was under arms again; barricades were thrown up by the people, who +swore to die in their defence sooner than to submit to the will of the +Convention; the noise of drums and trumpets was heard in every street; +all the horrors and cruelties of a civil war once more filled the +capital of the revolution, and the city was drunk with blood! + +The people fought with the courage of despair, pressed on victoriously, +and won from General Menou a few streets; whole battalions of the +National Guards abandoned the troops of the Convention and went over to +the sections. General Menou found himself in so dangerous a position +as to be forced to conclude an armistice until the next day with the +Section Lepelletier, which was opposed to him, up to which time the +troops on either side were to suspend operations. + +The Section Lepelletier declared itself at once en permanence, sent +her delegates to all the other sections, and called upon “the sovereign +people, whose rights the Convention wished to usurp,” to make a last and +decisive struggle. + +The Convention found itself in the most alarming position; it trembled +for its very existence, and already in fancy saw again the days of +terror, the guillotine rising and claiming for its first victims the +heads of the members of the Convention. A pallid fear overspread all +faces as constantly fresh news of the advance of the sections reached +them, when General Menou sent news of the concluded armistice. + +At this moment a pale young man rushed into the hall of session, and +with glowing eloquence and persuasive manner entreated the Convention +not to accept the armistice, not to give time to the sections to +increase their strength, nor to recognize them as a hostile power to war +against the government. + +This pale young man--whose impassioned language filled the minds of all +his hearers with animosity against General Menou, and with fresh courage +and desire to fight--was Napoleon Bonaparte. + +After he had spoken, other representatives rushed to the tribune, to +make propositions to the Assembly, all their motions converging to the +same end--all desired to have General Menou placed under arrest, and +Bonaparte appointed in his place, and intrusted with the defence of the +Convention and of the legislative power against the people. + +The Assembly accepted this motion, and appointed Bonaparte commanding +officer of the troops of the Convention, and, for form’s sake, named +Barras, president of the Convention, commander-in-chief. + +Bonaparte accepted the commission; and now, at last, after so much +waiting, so many painful months of inactivity, he found himself called +to action; he stood again at the head of an army, however small it might +be, and could again lift up the sword as the signal for the march to the +fight. + +It is true this fight had a sad, horrible purpose; it was directed +against the people, against the sections which declared themselves to be +the committee of the sovereign people, and that they were fighting the +holy fight of freedom against those who usurped their rights. + +General Bonaparte had refused to go to Vendee, because he wished not +to fight against his own countrymen, and could not take part in a +civil war; but now, at this hour of extreme peril, he placed himself +in opposition to the people’s sovereignty, and assumed command over the +troops of the Convention, whose mission it was to subdue the people. + +Every thing now assumed a more earnest attitude; during the night the +newly-appointed commanding officer sent three hundred chasseurs, under +Murat, to bring to Paris forty cannon from the park of artillery in +Sablons, and, when the morning of the 13th Vendemiaire began to dawn, +the pieces were already in position in the court of the Tuileries and +pointed against the people. Besides which, General Bonaparte had taken +advantage of the night to occupy all the important points and places, +and to arm them; even into the hall of session of the Convention he +ordered arms and ammunition to be brought, that the representatives +might defend themselves, in case they were pressed upon by the people. + +As the sun of the 13th Vendemiaire rose over Paris, a terrible +street-fight began--the fight of the sovereign people against the +Convention. It was carried on by both sides with the utmost bitterness +and fierceness, the sections rushing with fanatic courage, with all the +energy of hatred, against these soldiers who dared slay their brothers +and bind their liberty in chains; the soldiers of the Convention fought +with all the bitterness which the consciousness of their hated position +instilled into them. + +The cannon thundered in every street and mingled their sounds with the +cries of rage from the sectionnaires--the howlings of the women, the +whiz of the howitzers, the loud clangs of the bells, which incessantly +called the people to arms. Streams of blood flowed again through the +streets; everywhere, near the scattered barricades, near the houses +captured by storm, lay bloody corpses; everywhere resounded the cries of +the dying, the shrieks and groans of the wounded, the wild shouts of the +combatants. In the Church of St. Roche, and in the Theatre Francaise, +the sectionnaires, driven from the neighboring streets by the troops of +General Bonaparte, had gathered together and endeavored to defend these +places with the courage of despair. But the howitzers of Bonaparte soon +scattered them, and the contest was decided. + +The sections were defeated; the people, conquered by the Convention, had +to recognize its authority; they were no more the sovereigns of France; +they had found a ruler before whom they must bow. + +This ruler was yet called the Convention, but behind the Convention +stood another ruler--General Bonaparte! + +It was he who had defeated the people, who had secured the authority to +the Convention, and it was therefore natural that it should be thankful +and exhibit its gratitude. General Bonaparte, in acknowledgment for +the great services done to his country, was by the Convention appointed +commander-in-chief of the army of the interior, and thus suddenly he +saw himself raised from degrading obscurity to pomp and influence, +surrounded by a brilliant staff, installed in a handsome palace by +virtue of his office as chief officer, entitled to and justified in +maintaining an establishment wherein to represent worthily the dignity +of his new position. + +The 13th Vendemiaire, which dethroned the sovereign people, brought +General Bonaparte a step nearer to the throne. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE WIDOW JOSEPHINE BEAUHARNAIS. + + +Meanwhile Josephine had passed the first months of her newly-obtained +freedom in quiet contentment with her children in Fontainebleau, at the +house of her father-in-law. Her soul, bowed down by so much misery +and pain, needed quietness and solitude to allow her wounds to cease +bleeding and to heal; her heart, which had experienced so much anguish +and so many deceptions, needed to rest on the bosom of her children and +her relatives, so as to be quickened into new life. Only in the solitude +and stillness of Fontainebleau did she feel well and satisfied; every +other distraction, every interruption of this quiet, orderly existence +brought on a nervous trembling, which mastered her whole body, as if +some other adversity was about to break upon her. The days of terror +which she had passed in Paris, and especially the days she had outlived +in prison, were ever fresh before her mind, and tormented her with their +reminiscences alike in her vigils and in her dreams. + +She wanted to hear nothing of the world’s events, nothing from Paris, +the mention of which place filled her with fear and horror; and with +tears in her eyes she entreated her father-in-law to omit all mention of +the political changes and revolutions which took place there. + +But, alas! the politics from which Josephine fled, to which she closed +her ears, rushed upon her against her will--they came to her in the +shape of want and privation. + +Josephine, who wished to have nothing more to do with the affairs of +this world, learned, through the deprivations which she had to endure, +the want to which she and her family were exposed, that the world +had not yet been pushed back into the old grooves, out of which +the revolution had so violently lifted it up; that the republic yet +exercised a despotic authority, and was not prepared to return to the +heirs the property of the victims of the guillotine! The income +and property of General Beauharnais had all been confiscated by +the republic, for he had been executed as a state criminal, and +the procedure had this in common with the ordinary actions of the +government, that it never returned what it had once usurped. Even +Josephine’s father-in-law, as well as her aunt--Madame de Renaudin, +who, after her husband’s death, had been married to the Marquis de +Beauharnais--had both in the revolutionary storms lost all their +property, and saw themselves reduced to the last extremity. They lived +from day to day with the greatest economy, upon the smallest means, and +flattered themselves with the hope that justice would be done to the +innocent victims of the revolution; that at last to the widow and +children of the murdered General Beauharnais his income and property +would be returned. + +Another hope remained to Josephine: reliance upon her relatives, +especially upon her mother in Martinique. She had written to her as soon +as she had obtained her liberty; she had entreated her mother, who had +been a widow for two years, to rent all her property in Martinique, and +to come to France, and at her daughter’s side to enjoy a few quiet years +of domestic happiness. + +But this hope also was to be destroyed, for the revolution in Martinique +had committed the same devastations as in France, and the burning houses +of their masters had been the bonfires whose flames were sent up to +heaven by the newly-freed slaves in the name of the republic and of the +rights of man. Madame Tascher de la Pagerie had experienced the same +fate as all the planters in Martinique; her house and outbuildings had +been burnt, her plantations destroyed, and a long time would be required +before the fields could again be made to produce a harvest. Until then, +Madame Tascher would be sorely limited in her means, and, if she did +not succeed in selling some of her property and raising funds, would be +without the money necessary to bring under cultivation the remnant of +her large plantation. She was, therefore, not immediately prepared to +supply her daughter with any considerable assistance, and Josephine +endured the anguish of seeing not only herself and children, but also +her dear mother, suffer through want and privation. + +To the need of gold to procure bare necessaries, was soon added the very +lack of them. Famine, with all its horrors, was at hand; the people +were clamoring for food, and the land-owners as well as the rich were +suffering from the want of that prime necessary of life-bread! The +Convention had adopted no measures to satisfy the demands of the howling +populace, and it had to remain contented with making accessible to all +such provisions as were in the land. One law, therefore, ordered all +land-owners to deliver to the state their stores of meal; a second law +prohibited any person from buying more than one pound of bread on the +same day. The greatest delicacy in those days of common wretchedness +was white bread, and there were many families that for a long time were +unable to procure this luxury. + +Josephine herself had with many others to endure this privation: the +costly white loaf was beyond her reach. In her depressed and sad lot the +unfortunate widowed viscountess remained in possession of a treasure +for which many of the wealthy and high-born longed in vain, and which +neither gold nor wealth could procure--Josephine possessed friends, +true, devoted friends, who forsook her not in the day of need, but stood +the more closely at her side, helping and loving. + +Among these friends were, above all, Madame Dumoulin and M. Emery. +Madame Dumoulin, the wife of a wealthy purveyor of the republican army, +was at heart a true royalist, and had made it her mission, as much as +was within her power, to assist with her means the most destitute from +whom the revolution had taken their family joys and property. She aided +with money and clothing the unfortunate emigrants, who, as prominent and +influential friends of the king and of Old France, had abandoned their +country, and who now, as nameless, wretched beggars, returned home to +beg of New France the privilege at least to hunger and starve, and at +last to die in their motherland. Madame Dumoulin had always an open +house for those aristocrats and ci-devants who had the courage not to +emigrate and to bow their despised heads to all the fluctuations of the +republic, and had remained in France, though deprived by the republic of +their ancestral names, property, and rank. Those aristocrats who had +not migrated found a friendly reception in the house of the witty and +amiable Madame Dumoulin, and twice a week she gathered those friends of +the ancient regime to a dinner, which was prepared with all the luxury +of former days, and which offered to her friends, besides material +enjoyment, the pleasures of an agreeable and attractive company. + +Among Madame Dumoulin’s friends who never failed to be present at these +dinners was Josephine de Beauharnais, of whom Madame Dumoulin said she +was the sunbeam of her drawing-room, for she warmed and vitalized all +hearts. But this sunbeam had not the power to bring forth out of the +unfruitful soil of the fatherland a few ears of wheat to turn its flour +into white bread. As every one was allowed to buy bread only according +to the numbers in the household, Madame Dumoulin could not give to her +guests at dinner any white bread, and on her cards of invitation was the +then usual form, “You are invited to bring a loaf of white bread.” + +But it was beyond the means of the poor Viscountess de Beauharnais to +fulfil this invitation; her purse was not sufficient to afford her twice +a week the luxury of white bread. Madame Dumoulin, who knew this, came +kindly to the rescue of Josephine’s distress, and entreated her not to +trouble herself with bringing bread, but to allow her to procure it for +her friend. + +Josephine accepted this offer with tears of emotion, and she never +forgot the goodness and kindness of Madame Dumoulin. In the days of her +highest glory she remembered her, and once, when empress, radiant with +jewels and ornaments of gold, as she stood in the midst of her court, +related with a bewitching smile, to the ladies around her, that there +was a time when she would have given a year of her life to possess but +one of those jewels, not to adorn herself therewith, but to sell it, so +as to buy bread for her children, and that in those days the excellent +Madame Dumoulin had been a benefactress to her, and that she had +received at her hands the bread of charity. [Footnote: “Memoires sur +l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Mad. Ducrest, chap XXXVI.] + +The same abiding friendship was shown to Josephine by M. Emery, a banker +who had a considerable business in Dunkirk, and who for many years had +been in mercantile relations with the family of Tascher de la Pagerie in +Martinique. Madame de la Pagerie had every year sent him the produce of +her sugar plantations, and he had attended to the sale to the largest +houses in Germany. He knew better than any one else the pecuniary +circumstances of the Pagerie family; he knew that, if at present Madame +de la Pagerie could not repay his advanced sums, her plantations would +soon produce a rich harvest, and even now be a sufficient security. M. +Emery was therefore willing to assist the daughter of Madame Tascher de +la Pagerie, and several times he advanced to Josephine considerable sums +which she had drawn upon her mother. + +The cares of every-day life, its physical necessities, lifted Josephine +out of the sad melancholy in which she had lulled her sick, wounded +heart, within the solitude of Fontainebleau. She must not settle down in +this inactive twilight, nor wrap herself up in the gloomy gray veil of +widowhood! Life had still claims upon her; it called to her through +her children’s voices, for whom she had a future to provide, as well +as through the voice of her own youth, which she must not intrust +hopelessly to the gloomy Fontainebleau. + +And the young mother dared not and wanted not to close her ears to these +calls; she arose from her supineness, and courageously resolved to +begin anew life’s battle, and to claim her share from the enjoyments and +pleasures of this world. + +She first, by the advice of M. Emery, undertook a journey to Hamburg, +to make some arrangements with the rich and highly respectable +banking-house of Mathiesen and Sissen. Mathiesen, the banker, who had +married a niece of Madame de Genlis, had always shown the greatest +hospitality to all Frenchmen who had applied to him, and he had assisted +them with advice and deeds. To him Josephine appealed, at the request +of M. Emery, so as to procure a safe opportunity to send letters to her +mother in Martinique, and also to obtain from him funds on bills drawn +upon her mother. + +M. Mathiesen met her wishes with a generous pleasure, and through him +Josephine received sufficient sums of money to protect her from further +embarrassments and anxieties, at least until her mother, who was on the +eve of selling a portion of her plantation, could send her some money. + +On her return from her business-journey to Hamburg, as she was no longer +a poor widow without means, she adopted the courageous resolution of +leaving her asylum and returning to dangerous and deserted Paris, there +to prepare for her son an honorable future, and endeavor to procure for +her daughter an education suited to her rank and capacities. + +At the end of the year 1795, Josephine returned with her two children +to Paris, which one year before she had left so sorrowfully and so +dispirited. + +What changes had been wrought during this one year! How the face +of things had been altered! The revolution had bled to death. The +thirteenth Vendemiaire had scattered to the winds the seditious elements +of revolution, and the republic was beginning quietly and peacefully to +grow into stature. The Convention, with its Mountain, its terrorists, +its Committee of Safety, its persecutions and executions, had outlived +its power, which it had consigned to the pages of history with so many +tears and so much blood. In a strange contradiction with its own bloody +deeds, it celebrated the last day of its existence by a law which, as a +farewell to the thousand corpses it had sacrificed to the revolution, +it had printed on its gory brow. On the day of its dissolution the +Convention gave to France this last law: “Capital punishment is forever +abolished.” [Footnote: Norvins, “Histoire de Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 82.] + +With this farewell kiss, this love-salutation to the France of the +future, to the new self-informing France, the Convention dissolved +itself, and in its stead came the Council of Elders, the Council of Five +Hundred, and lastly the Directory, composed of five members, among whom +had been elected the more eminent members of the Convention, namely, +Barras and Carnot. + +Josephine’s first movement in Paris was to find the lovely friend whom +she made in the Carmelite prison, and to whom she in some measure owed +her life, to visit Therese de Fontenay and see if the heart of the +beautiful, celebrated woman had in its days of happiness and power +retained its remembrances of those of wretchedness and mortal fears. + +Therese de Fontenay was now the wife of Tallien, who, elected to the +Council of the Five Hundred, continued to play an influential +and important part, and therefore had his court of flatterers and +time-serving friends as well as any ruling prince. His house was one +of the most splendid in Paris; the feasts and banquets which took place +there reminded one, by their extravagant magnificence, of the days of +ancient Rome, and that this remembrance might still be more striking, +ladies in the rich, costly costumes of patrician matrons of ancient +Rome appeared at those festivities not unworthy of a Lucullus. Madame +Tallien--in the ample robe of wrought gold of a Roman empress, shod with +light sandals, from which issued the beautiful naked feet, and the toes +adorned with costly rings, her exquisitely moulded arms ornamented with +massive gold bracelets; her short curly hair fastened together by a +gold bandelet, which rose over the forehead in the shape of a diadem, +bejewelled with precious diamonds; the mantle of purple, fringed +with gold and placed on the shoulders--was in this costume of such a +wonderful beauty, that men gazed at her with astonishment and women with +envy. + +And this beautiful woman, often worshipped and adored, though sometimes +slandered, had amid her triumphs kept a faithful remembrance of the +past. She received Josephine with the affection of a true friend. In +her generosity she allowed her no time to proffer any request, but came +forward herself with offers to intercede for her friend, and to use all +the means at her disposal, omitting nothing that would help Josephine to +recover her fortune, her lost property. With all the eagerness of true +love she took the arm of her friend and led her to Tallien, and with the +enchanting smile and attitude of a commanding princess she told him that +he must help Josephine to become happy again, that every thing he could +do for her would be rewarded by an increasing love; that if he did not +do justice to Josephine, she would punish him by her anger and coldness. + +Tallien listened with complacency to the praiseworthy commands of +his worshipped Therese, and promised to use all his influence to have +justice done to the will of the sacrificed General de Beauharnais. He +himself accompanied Josephine to Barras, that she might present her +application to him personally and request at his hands restitution of +her property. She was received by Barras, as well as by the other four +directors, with the greatest politeness; each promised to attend to +her case and to return to the widow and to the children of Alexandre de +Beauharnais the property which had been so unjustly taken from them. + +It is true, weeks and months of waiting and uncertainty passed away, +but Josephine had hope for a comforter; she had, besides, her beautiful +friend Therese Tallien, who with affectionate eloquence endeavored to +instil courage into Josephine, and by her constant petitions and +prayers did not allow the Directory, amid its many important affairs +of government, to forget the case of the poor young widow. Therese took +care also that Josephine should appear in society at the receptions and +balls given by the members of the new government; and when made timid +through misfortune, and depressed at heart by the uncertainty of her +narrow lot, she desired to keep aloof from these rejoicings, Therese +knew how to convince her that she must sacrifice her love of retirement +to her children; that it was her duty to accept the invitations of the +Directory, so as to keep alive their interest and favor in her behalf; +and that, were she to retreat into solitude and obscurity, she would +thereby imperil her future and that of her children. + +Josephine submitted to this law of necessity, and appeared in society. +She screened her cares and her heartsores under the covert of smiles, +she forced herself into cheerfulness, and when now and then the smile +vanished from her lip and tears filled her eyes, she thought of her +children, and, mastering her sorrows, she was again the beautiful, +lovely woman, whose elegant manners and lively and witty conversation +charmed and astonished every one. + +At last, after long months of uncertainty, Therese Tallien, her face +beaming with joy, came one morning to visit her friend Josephine, and +presented to her a paper with a large seal, which Tallien had given her +that very morning. + +It was an order, signed by the five directors, instructing the +administrator of the domains to relieve the capital and the property of +General Beauharnais from the sequestration laid upon them, and also to +remove the seals from his furniture and his movables, and to reinstate +the Widow Beauharnais in possession of all the property left by her +husband. + +Josephine received this paper with tears of joy, and, full of religious, +devout gratitude, she fell on her knees and cried: + +“I thank Thee, my God! I thank Thee! My children will no more suffer +from want, and now I can give them a suitable education.” + +She then fell upon her friend’s neck, thanking her for her faithfulness, +and swore her everlasting friendship and affection. + +The dark clouds which had so long overshadowed Josephine’s life were now +gone, and in its place dawned day, bright and clear. + +But the sun which was to illumine this day with wondrous glory had +not yet appeared. Therese at this hour reminded her friend of a day in +prison when Josephine had assured her friends trembling for her life +that she was not going to die, that she would one day be Queen of +France. + +“Yes,” said Josephine, smiling and thoughtful, “who knows if this +prophecy will not be fulfilled? To-day begins for me a new life. I have +done with the past, and it will sink behind me in the abyss of oblivion. +I trust in the future! It must repay me for all the tears and anxieties +of my past life, and who knows if it will not erect me a throne?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE NEW PARIS. + + +Yes, they were now ended, the days of sufferings and privations! The +wife of General Beauharnais was no more the poor widow who appeared as +a petitioner in the drawing-rooms of the members of the Directory, and +often obliged, even in the worst kind of weather, to go on foot to the +festivals of Madame Tallien, because she lacked the means to pay for +a cab; she was no longer the poor mother who had to be satisfied to +procure inferior teachers for her children, because she could not +possibly pay superior ones. + +Now, as by a spell, all was changed, and gold was the magic wand which +had produced it. Thanks to this talisman, the Viscountess de Beauharnais +could now quit the small, remote, gloomy dwelling in which she had +hitherto resided, and could again procure a house, gather society round +about her, and, above all things, provide for the education of her +children. + +This was her dearest duty, her most important obligation, with which +she busied herself even before she rented a modestly-furnished room. +Her Eugene, the darling of her heart, desired like his father to devote +himself to a military life, and his mother took him to a boarding-school +in St. Germain, where young men of distinguished families received their +education. Her twelve-year-old daughter Hortense, of whom Josephine had +said, “She is my angel with the gold locks, who alone can smile away +the tears from my eyes and sorrow from my heart”--Hortense entered +the newly-opened educational establishment of Madame Campan, once the +lady-in-waiting of Marie Antoinette. Josephine wept hot tears as she +accompanied her Hortense into the boarding-school, and, embracing her +blond curly-haired angel, she closely pressed her to her heart, and +said: + +“Judge how much I love you, my daughter, since I have the courage to +leave you and to deprive myself of the greatest of my life’s enjoyments! +Ah, I shall be very lonesome, Hortense, but my thoughts will be with you +continually--with you and your brother Eugene. Live to be an honor to +your father, grow and prosper to be your mother’s happiness!” + +Then with a kiss she took leave of her daughter, and comfortless and +alone she returned to her solitary apartments in Paris. + +During the next eight days her doors were shut; she opened them to none, +not even to her friend Therese, and not once did Josephine leave her +dwelling during this time, nor did she accept any of the invitations +which came to her from all sides. + +Her heart was yet wrapped in mourning for her separation from her +children, and, with all the intensity of an affectionate mother’s love, +she preferred leaving her anguish to die out of itself than to suppress +it with amusements and pleasures. + +But after this last sorrow had been overcome, Josephine, with serenity +and a smile of cheerfulness, came again from her solitude into the +world which called her forth with all its voices of joy, pleasure, +and flattery. And Josephine no longer closed her ears to these sweet +attractive voices. She had long enough suffered, wept, fasted; now +she ought to reap enjoyments, and gather her portion of this life’s +pleasures; now she must live! The past had set behind her, and, as one +new-born or risen from the dead, Josephine walked into the world with a +young maiden heart, and a mind opened to all that is beautiful, great, +and good; her soul filled with visions, hopes, desires, and dreams. +Out of the widow’s veil came forth the young, charming Creole, and her +radiant eyes saluted the world with intelligent looks and an expression +of the most attractive goodness. + +Her next care was to procure a pleasant, convenient home suited to her +rank. She purchased from the actor Talma a house which he possessed +in the Street Chautereine, and where he had, during the storms of the +revolution, received his friends as well as all the literary, artistic, +and political notables of the day with the kindest hospitality. It +was not a brilliant, distinguished hotel, no splendid building, but a +small, tastefully and conveniently arranged house, with pretty rooms, a +cheerful drawing-room, lovely garden, exactly suited to have therein a +quiet, agreeable, informal pastime. Josephine possessed in the highest +degree the art of her sex to furnish rooms with elegance and taste, +so as to make every one in them comfortable, satisfied, at ease, and +cheerful. + +The drawing-room of the widow of General Beauharnais became soon the +central point where all her friends of former days found themselves +together again, and all the remnants of the good old society found +reception; where the learned, the artist, the poet, met with a refuge, +there to rest for a few hours from political strife, to put aside the +serpent’s skin of assumed republican manners, and again assume the +tone and forms of the higher society. Such drawing-rooms in these +revolutionary days were extremely few; no one dared to become +conspicuous; every one was reserved and quiet; every one shrank from +making himself suspected of being a ci-devant, even if under the +republican toga he left visible his dress-coat of the upper society with +its embroidery of gold. Men had entirely broken with the past, wishing +to deny it, and not be under the yoke of its forms and rules; it was +therefore necessary, out of the chaos of the republic, to create a +new world, a new society, new forms of etiquette, and new fashions. +Meanwhile, until these new fashions for republican France should be +found, men had recourse (so as not to go back to the days of the late +monarchy of France) to the republics of olden times; the ladies dressed +according to the patterns of the old statues of the deities of Greece +and Rome, giving receptions in the style of ancient Greece, and banquets +laid out in all the extravagant splendors of a Lucullus. + +The members of the republican Directory, whose residence was in the +palace of the Luxemburg, took the lead in all these neo-Grecian and +neo-Roman festivities; and, whereas they loudly proclaimed that it was +necessary to furnish opportunities to the working-classes and laborers +to gain money, and that it was incumbent on all to promote industry, +they rivalled each other in their efforts to exhibit an extravagant +pomp and a brilliant display. On reception-days of the members of the +Directory the public streamed in masses toward the Luxemburg, there to +admire the splendors of the five monarchs, and to rejoice that the days +of the carmagnoles, the sans-culottes, the dirty blouse, and the bonnet +rouge were at least gone by. The five directors, to the delight of the +Parisian people, wore costly silk and velvet garments embroidered +with gold, and on their hats, trimmed also with gold lace, waved large +ostrich-plumes. + +Luxury celebrated its return to Paris, after having had to secrete +itself, so long from the blood-stained hands of the sans-culottes, +in the most obscure corners of the deserted palaces of St. Germain. +Pleasure, which had fled away horrified from the guillotine and from the +terrorists, dared once more to show its rose-wreathed brow and smiling +countenance, and here and there make its cheerful festivities resound. + +Men became glad, and dared to laugh again; they came out from the +stillness of their homes, which anxiety had kept closed, to search for +amusement, pleasure, and recreation; but no citizen dared to be select, +none dared to assume aristocratic exclusiveness. One had to be pleased +with a dinner at a tavern; with a glass of ice-water in a cafe, or to +take part in a public ball which was opened to every one who could pay +his fee of admission; and especially in the evening the public rushed to +the theatre with the same eagerness that was exhibited in the morning +to reach the shops of the bakers and butchers, where each received +his portion of meat or bread by producing a card signed by the circuit +commissioners. In front of these shops, as well as in front of the +theatres, the pressure was so great that for hours it was necessary to +fall into line, and sometimes go away dissatisfied; for the republic +had yet retained the system of equality, so that the rich and the +influential were not served any sooner than the poor and the unknown; +there was only one exception: only one condition received distinction +before the baker’s shop and the theatre: it was that of the mothers of +the future, those women whose external appearance revealed that they +would soon bring forth a future citizen, a new soldier for the republic, +which had lost so many of its sons upon the scaffold and on the +battle-field. + +It was so long that one had been deprived of laughter and merriment, and +had walked with sad countenance and grave solemnity through the days +of blood and terror, that now every occasion for hilarity was received +eagerly and thankfully, and every opportunity for mirth and amusement +sought out. The theatres were therefore filled every evening with an +attentive, thankful audience; every jest of the actor, every part well +performed, elicited enthusiastic approbation. It is true no one yet +dared act any other pieces than those which had reference to the +revolution, and in some shape or other celebrated the republic, accusing +and vilifying the royalists. The pieces represented were--“The Perfect +Equality,” or else “Thee and Thou,” “The Last Trial of the Queen,” + “Tarquin, or the Fall of the Monarchy,” “Marat’s Apotheosis,” and +similar dramas, all infused with republicanism; still, men faint at +heart and satiated with the republic, hastened notwithstanding to the +theatre, to enjoy an hour of recreation and merriment. + +To be cheerful, happy, and joyous, seemed now to the Parisians the +highest duty of life, and every thing was made subservient to it. +The people had wept and mourned so long, that now, to shake off this +oppressive heaviness of mind, they rushed with fanatical precipitancy +into pleasure; they gave themselves up to the wildest orgies and +bacchanals, and without disgust or shame abandoned themselves to the +most immoral conduct. All tears were dried up as if by magic; honest +poverty began to be ashamed of itself; and the wealth so carefully hid +until now, was again brought to light; even those who in the days +of revolutionary terror had become rich through the property of the +sacrificed victims, exposed themselves to public gaze with impunity +and without shame. They plundered and adorned themselves with a wealth +acquired only through cunning, treachery, and murder. Everywhere feasts, +banquets, and balls, were organized; and it was an ordinary event to +find in the same company the accuser and the accused, the executioner +and his victim, the murderer near the daughter of the man whose head he +had given over to the guillotine! + +This was especially the case at the so-called victim balls (bals a la +victime) which were given by the heirs, the sons and fathers of +those who had perished by the guillotine. People gathered together +in brilliant entertainments and balls to the honor and memory of the +executed ones. Every one who could pay the large fee of admission to +these bals a la victime were permitted to enter. Those who came there, +not for pleasure, but to honor their dead, showed this intention by +their clothing, and especially by the arrangement of their hair. To +remind them that those who had been led to the guillotine had had their +hair cut close, gentlemen now had theirs cut short, and the dressing +of the hair a la victime was for gentlemen as much a fashion as the +dressing of the hair a la Titus (the Roman emperor) was for the ladies. +Besides this, the heirs of the victims wore some token of the departed +ones, and ladies and gentlemen were seen in the blood-stained garments +which their relatives had worn on their way to the scaffold, and which +they had purchased with large sums of money from the executioner, that +lord of Paris. It often happened that a lady in the blood-stained dress +of her mother danced with the son of the man who had delivered her +mother to the guillotine; that a son of a member of the Convention of +1793 led, in the minuet, the graceful “pas de chale,” with the daughter +of an emigrant marquis. The most fanatical men of the days of terror, +now exalted into wealthy land-owners, led on in the gay waltz the +daughters of their former landlords; and these women pressed the hand +soiled with the blood of their relatives because now, as amends for +their traffic in blood, they could offer future wealth and distinction. + +It seemed that all Paris and all France had gone mad--that the whole +nation was drunk with blood as with intoxicating wine, and wanted +to stifle the voice of conscience in the horrible revelry of the +saturnalia. + +Josephine never took part in these public balls and festivities; +never did the widow of General Beauharnais, one of the victims of the +revolution, attend these bals a la victime, where man prided himself on +his misfortune and gloried in his sorrows. The Moniteur--which then gave +daily notices of the balls and amusements that were to take place in +Paris, so as to let the world know how cheerful and happy every one +felt there, and which made it its business to publish the names of the +ci-devants and ex-nobles who had partaken in these festivities--never +in its long and correct list mentions the name of the widow of General +Beauharnais. + +Josephine kept aloof from all these wild dissipations--these balls and +banquets. She would neither dance, nor adorn herself in the memory of +her husband; she would not take a part in the splendid festivities of +a republic which had murdered him, and had pierced her loyal heart with +the deepest wounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. THE FIRST INTERVIEW. + + +In the midst of these joys and amusements of the new-growing Paris, +the storm of the thirteenth Vendemiaire launched forth its destructive +thunderbolts, and another rent was made in the lofty structure of the +republic. The royalists, who had cunningly frequented these bals a +la victime, to weave intrigues and conspiracies, found their webs +scattered, and the republic assumed a new form. + +Napoleon with his sword had cut to pieces the webs and snares of the +royalists as well as of the revolutionists, and France had to bow to the +constitution. In the Tuileries now sat the Council of the Elders; in +the Salle du Manege sat the Five Hundred; and in the palace of Luxemburg +resided the five directors of the republic. + +On the thirteenth Vendemiaire Paris had passed through a crisis of its +revolutionary disease; and, to prevent its falling immediately into +another, it permitted the newly-appointed commander-in-chief of the army +of the interior of France, General Napoleon Bonaparte, to have every +house strictly searched, and to confiscate all weapons found. + +Even into the house of the Viscountess de Beauharnais, in the rue +Chantereine, came the soldiers of the republic to search for secreted +weapons. They found there the sword of Alexandre de Beauharnais, which +certainly Josephine had not hidden, for it was the chief ornament of her +son’s room. When Eugene, on the next Saturday, came to Paris from St. +Germain, as he did every week, to pass the Sunday in his mother’s house, +to his great distress he saw vacant on the wall the place where the +sword of his father had been hanging. With trembling voice and tears +in her eyes his mother told him that General Bonaparte, the new +commander-in-chief, had ordered the sword to be carried away by his +soldiers. + +A cry of anger and of malediction was Eugene’s answer; then with +flaming eyes and cheeks burning with rage he rushed out, despite the +supplications of his affrighted and anxious mother. Without pausing, +without thinking--conscious only of this, that he must have again his +father’s sword, he rushed on. It was impossible, thought he, that the +republic which had deprived his father of the honors due to him, his +property, his money--that now, after his death, she should also take +away his sword. + +He must have this sword again! This was Eugene’s firm determination, +and this made him bold and resolute. He rushed into the palace where the +general-in-chief, Bonaparte, resided, and with daring vehemence demanded +an interview with the general; and, as the door-keeper hesitated, and +even tried to push away the bold boy from the door of the drawing-room, +Eugene turned about with so much energy, spoke, scolded, and raged so +loudly and so freely, that the noise reached even the cabinet where +General Bonaparte was. He opened the door, and in his short, imperious +manner asked the cause of this uproar; and when the servant had told +him, with a sign of the hand he beckoned the young man to come in. + +Eugene de Beauharnais entered the drawing-room with a triumphant +smile, and the eye of General Bonaparte was fixed with pleasure on the +beautiful, intelligent countenance, on the tall, powerful figure of the +fifteen-year-old boy. In that strange, soft accent which won hearts to +Napoleon, he asked Eugene his business. The young man’s cheeks became +pallid, and with tremulous lips and angry looks, the vehement eloquence +of youth and suffering, Eugene spoke of the loss he had sustained, and +of the pain which had been added to it by despoiling him of the sword of +his father, murdered by the republic. + +At these last words of Eugene, Bonaparte’s brow was overshadowed, and an +appalling look met the face of the brave boy. + +“You dare say that the republic has murdered your father?” asked he, in +a loud, angry voice. + +“I say it, and I say the truth!” exclaimed Eugene, who did not turn away +his eyes from the flaming looks of the general. “Yes, the republic has +murdered my father, for it has executed him as a criminal, as a traitor +to his country, and he was innocent; he ever was a faithful servant of +his country and of the republic.” + +“Who told you that it was so?” asked Bonaparte, abruptly. + +“My heart and the republic itself tell me that my father was no +traitor,” exclaimed Eugene, warmly. “My mother loved him much, and she +regrets him still. She would not do so had he been a traitor, and then +the republic would not have done what it has done--it would not have +returned to my mother the confiscated property of my father, but would, +had he been considered guilty, have gladly kept it back.” + +The grave countenance of Bonaparte was overspread by a genial smile, and +his eyes rested with the expression of innermost sympathy on the son of +Josephine. + +“You think, then, that the republic gladly keeps what it has?” asked he. + +“I see that it gladly takes what belongs not to it,” exclaimed Eugene, +eagerly. “It has taken away my father’s sword, which belonged to me, his +son, and my mother has made me swear on that sword to hold my father’s +memory sacred, and to strive to be like him.” + +“Your mother is, it seems, a very virtuous old lady,” said Bonaparte, in +a friendly tone. + +“My mother is a virtuous, young, and beautiful lady,” said Eugene, +sturdily; “and I am certain, general, that if you knew her, you would +not in your heart have caused her so much pain.” + +“She has, then, suffered much on account of this sword being taken +away?” asked Bonaparte, interested. + +“Yes, general, she has wept bitterly over this our loss, as I have. +I cannot bear to see my mother weep; it breaks my heart. I therefore +implore you to give me back my father’s sword; and I swear to you that +when I am a man, I will carry that sword only for the defence of my +country, as my father had done.” + +General Bonaparte nodded kindly to the boy. “You are a brave defender of +your cause,” said he, “and I cannot refuse you--I must do as you wish.” + +He gave orders to an ordnance officer present in the room to bring +General de Beauharnais’s sword; and when the officer had gone to fetch +it, Bonaparte, in a friendly and sympathizing manner, conversed with the +boy. At last the ordnance officer returned, and handed the sword to the +general. + +With solemn gravity Bonaparte gave it to Eugene. “Take it, young man,” + said he, “but never forget that you have sworn to carry it only for the +honor and defence of your country.” + +Eugene could not answer: tears started from his eyes, and with deep +affection he pressed to his lips the recovered sword of his father. + +This manifestation of true childish emotion moved Bonaparte to tender +sympathy, and an expression of affectionate interest passed over his +features as he offered his hand to Eugene. + +“By Heaven, you are a good son,” exclaimed he from his heart, “and you +will be one day a good son to your country! Go, my boy, take to your +mother your father’s sword. Tell her that I salute her, though unknown +to her--that I congratulate her in being the mother of so good and brave +a son.” + +Such was the beginning of an acquaintance to which Josephine was +indebted for an imperial crown, and, for what is still greater, an +undying fame and an undying love. + +Beaming with joy, Eugene returned to Josephine with his father’s sword, +and with all the glowing sentiments of thankfulness he related to her +how kindly and obligingly General Bonaparte had received him, what +friendly and affectionate words he had spoken to him, and how much +forbearance and patience he had manifested to his impassioned request. + +Josephine’s maternal heart was sensitive and grateful for every +expression of sympathy toward her son, and the goodness and forbearance +of the general affected her the more, that she knew how bold and wild +the boy, smarting under pain, must have been. She therefore hastened +to perform a duty of politeness by calling the next day on General +Bonaparte, to thank him for the kindness he had shown Eugene. + +For the first time General Bonaparte stood in the presence of the woman +who one day was to share his fame and greatness, and this first moment +was decisive as to his and her future. Josephine’s grace and elegance, +her sweetness of disposition, her genial cheerfulness, the expression of +lofty womanhood which permeated her whole being, and which protected +her securely from any rough intrusion or familiarity; her fine, truly +aristocratic bearing, which revealed at once a lady of the court and of +the great world; her whole graceful and beautiful appearance captivated +the heart of Napoleon at the first interview, and the very next day +after receiving her short call he hastened to return it. + +Josephine was not alone when General Bonaparte was announced; and when +the servant named him she could not suppress an inward fear, without +knowing why she was afraid. Her friends, who noticed her tremor and +blush, laughed jestingly at the timidity which made her tremble at the +name of the conqueror of Paris, and this was, perhaps, the reason why +Josephine received General Bonaparte with less complacency than she +generally showed to her visitors. + +Amid the general silence of all those present the young general +(twenty-six years old) entered the drawing-room of the Viscountess de +Beauharnais; and this silence, however flattering it might be to his +pride, caused him a slight embarrassment. He therefore approached the +beautiful widow with a certain abrupt and perplexed manner, and spoke +to her in that hasty, imperious tone which might become a general, but +which did not seem appropriate in a lady’s saloon. General Pichegru, +who stood near Josephine, smiled, and even her amiable countenance was +overspread with a slight expression of scorn, as she fixed her beautiful +eyes on this pale, thin little man, whose long, smooth hair fell in +tangled disorder on either side of his temples over his sallow, +hollow cheeks; whose whole sickly and gloomy appearance bore so little +resemblance to the majestic figure of the lion to which he had been so +often compared after his success of the thirteenth Vendemiaire. + +“I perceive, general,” suddenly exclaimed Josephine, “that you are sorry +it was your duty to fill Paris once more with blood and horror. You +would undoubtedly have preferred not to be obliged to carry out the +bloody orders of the affrighted Convention?” + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders somewhat. “That is very possible,” said +he, perfectly quiet. “But what can you expect, madame? We military men +are but the automatons which the government sets in motion according +to its good pleasure; we know only how to obey; the sections, however, +cannot but congratulate themselves that I have spared them so much. +Nearly all my cannon were loaded only with powder. I wanted to give a +little lesson to the Parisians. The whole affair was nothing but the +impress of my seal on France. Such skirmishes are only the vespers of my +fame.” [Footnote: Napoleon’s words.--See Le Normand, vol. i., p. 214.] + +Josephine felt irritated, excited by the coldness with which Napoleon +spoke of the slaughter of that day; and her eyes, otherwise so full of +gentleness, were now animated with flashes of anger. + +“Oh,” cried she, “if you must purchase fame at such a price, I would +sooner you were one of the victims!” + +Bonaparte looked at her with astonishment, but as he perceived her +flushed cheeks and flashing eyes, the sight of her grace and beauty +ravished him, and a soft, pleasant smile suddenly illumined his +countenance. He answered her violent attack by a light pleasantry, and +with gladsome unaffectedness he gave to the conversation another turn. +The small, pale, gloomy general was at once changed into a young, +impassioned, amiable cavalier, whose countenance grew beautiful under +the sparkling intelligence which animated it, and whose enchanting +eloquence made his conversation attractive and lively, carrying with it +the conviction of a superior mind. + +After the visitors who had met that morning in Josephine’s drawing-room +had departed the general still remained, notwithstanding the astonished +and questioning looks of the viscountess, paying no attention to her +remarks about the fine weather, or her intention to enjoy a promenade. +With rapid steps, and hands folded behind his back, he paced a few times +to and fro the room, then standing before Josephine he fixed on her face +a searching look. + +“Madame,” said he, suddenly, with a kind of rough tone, “I have a +proposition to make: give me your hand. Be my wife!” + +Josephine looked at him, half-astonished, half-irritated. “Is it a joke +you are indulging in?” said she. + +“I speak in all earnestness,” said Bonaparte, warmly. “Will you do me +the honor of giving me your hand?” + +The gravity with which Bonaparte spoke, the deep earnestness imprinted +on his features, convinced Josephine that the general would not +condescend to indulge in a joke of so unseemly a character, and a lovely +blush overspread the face of the viscountess. + +“Sir,” said she, “who knows if I might not be inclined to accept your +distinguished offer, if, unfortunately, fate stood not in the way of +your wishes?” + +“Fate?” asked Bonaparte, with animation. + +“Yes, fate! my general,” repeated Josephine, smiling. “But let us speak +no more of this. It is enough that fate forbids me to be the wife of +General Bonaparte. I can say no more, for you would laugh at me.” + +“But you would laugh at me if you could turn me away with so vague +an answer,” cried Bonaparte, with vivacity. “I pray you, explain the +meaning of your words.” + +“Well, then, general, I cannot be your wife, for I am destined to be +Queen of France--yes, perhaps more than queen!” + +It was now Bonaparte’s turn to appear astonished and irritated, and +using her own words he said, shrugging his shoulders, “Madame, is it a +joke you are indulging in?” + +“I speak in all earnestness,” said Josephine, shaking her head. “Listen, +then: a negro-woman in Martinique foretold my fortune, and as her +oracular words have thus far been all fulfilled, I must conclude that +the rest of her prophecies concerning me will be realized.” + +“And what has she prophesied to you?” asked Bonaparte, eagerly. + +“She has told me: ‘You will one day be Queen of France! you will be +still more than queen!’” + +The general was silent. He had remained standing; but now slowly paced +the room a few times, his hands folded on his back and his head inclined +on his breast. Then again he stood before the viscountess, and his eyes +rested upon her with a wondrous bright and genial expression. + +“I bid defiance to fate,” said he, somewhat solemnly. “This prophecy +does not frighten me away, and in defiance of your prophetic +negro-woman, I, the republican general, address my prayer to the future +Queen of France: be my wife!--give me your hand.” + +Josephine felt almost affrighted at this pertinacity of the general, and +a sentiment of apprehension overcame her as she looked into the pale, +decided countenance of this man, a stranger to her, and who claimed her +for his wife. + +“Oh, sir,” exclaimed she, with some anguish, “you offer me your hand +with as much carelessness as if the whole matter were merely for a +contra-dance. But I can assure you that marriage is a very grave matter, +which has no resemblance whatever to a gay dance. I know it is so. I +have had my sad experience, and I cannot so easily decide upon marrying +a second time.” + +“You refuse my hand, then?” said Bonaparte, with a threatening tone. + +Josephine smiled. “On the contrary, general,” said she, “give me your +hand and accompany me to my carriage, which has been waiting for me this +long time.” + +“That means you dismiss me! You close upon me the door of your +drawing-room?” exclaimed Bonaparte, with warmth. + +She shook her head, and, bowing before him with her own irresistible +grace, she said in a friendly manner: “I am too good a patriot not to be +proud of seeing the conqueror of Toulon in my drawing-room. To-morrow I +have an evening reception, and I invite you to be present, general.” + +From this day Bonaparte visited Josephine daily; she was certain to meet +him everywhere. At first she sought to avoid him, but he always knew +with cunning foresight how to baffle her efforts, and to overcome +all difficulties which she threw in his way. Was she at her friend +Therese’s, she could safely reckon that General Bonaparte would soon +make his appearance and come near her with eyes beaming with joy, and in +his own energetic language speak to her of his love and hopes. Was she +to be present at the receptions of the five monarchs of Paris, it was +General Bonaparte who waited for her at the door of the hall to offer +his arm, and lead her amid the respectful, retreating, and gently +applauding crowd to her seat, where he stood by her, drawing upon her +the attention of all. Did she take a drive, at the accustomed hour, in +the Champs Elysees, she was confident soon to see General Bonaparte +on his gray horse gallop at her side, followed by his brilliant staff, +himself the object of public admiration and universal respect; and +finally, if she went to the theatre, General Bonaparte never failed to +appear in her loge, to remain near her during the performance; and when +she left, to offer his arm to accompany her to her carriage. + +It could not fail that this persevering homage of the renowned and +universally admired young general should make a deep and flattering +impression on Josephine’s heart, and fill her with pride and joy. But +Josephine made resistance to this feeling; she endeavored to shield +herself from it by maternal love. + +She sent for her two children from their respective schools, and with +her nearly grown-up son on one side and her daughter budding into +maidenhood on the other, she thus presented herself to the general, +and with an enchanting smile said: “See, general, how old I am, with a +grown-up son and daughter who soon can make of me a grandmother.” + +But Bonaparte with heart-felt emotion reached his hand to Eugene and +said, “A man who can call so worthy a youth as this his son, is to be +envied.” + +A cunning, smiling expression of the eye revealed to Josephine that he +had understood her war-stratagem--that neither the grown-up son nor the +marriageable daughter could deter him from his object. + +Josephine at last was won by so much love and tenderness, but she could +not yet acknowledge that the wounds of her heart were closed; that once +more she could trust in happiness, and devote her life to a new love, +to a new future. She shrank timidly away from such a shaping of her +destiny; and even the persuasions of her friends and relatives, even of +the father of her deceased husband, could not bring her to a decision. + +The state of her mind is depicted in a letter which Josephine wrote +to her friend Madame de Chateau Renaud, and which describes in a great +measure the strange uncertainty of her heart: + +“You have seen General Bonaparte at my house! Well, then, he is the one +who wishes to be the father of the orphans of Alexandre de Beauharnais +and the husband of his widow. ‘Do you love him?’ you will ask. Well, +no!--‘Do you feel any repugnance toward him?’ No, but I feel in a state +of vacillation and doubt, a state very disagreeable to me, and which +the devout in religious matters consider to be the most scandalizing. As +love is a kind of worship, one ought in its presence to feel animated +by other feelings than those I now experience, and therefore I long for +your advice, which might bring the constant indecision of my mind to +a fixed conclusion. To adopt a firm course has always appeared to my +Creole nonchalance something beyond reach, and I find it infinitely more +convenient to be led by the will of another. + +“I admire the courage of the general; I am surprised at his ample +knowledge, which enables him to speak fluently on every subject; at the +vivacity of his genius, which enables him to guess at the thoughts of +others before they are expressed; but I avow, I am frightened at the +power he seems to exercise over every one who comes near him. His +searching look has something strange, which I cannot explain, but which +has a controlling influence even upon our directors; judge, therefore, +of his influence over a woman. Finally, the very thing which might +please--the violence of his passion--of which he speaks with so much +energy, and which admits of no doubt, that passion is exactly what +creates in me the unwillingness I have so often been ready to express. + +“The first bloom of youth lies behind me. Can I therefore hope that this +passion, which in General Bonaparte resembles an attack of madness, will +last long? If after our union he should cease to love me, would he not +reproach me for what he had done? Would he not regret that he had not +made another and more brilliant union? What could I then answer? What +could I do? I could weep. ‘A splendid remedy!’ I hear you say. I know +well that weeping is useless, but to weep has been the only resource +which I could find when my poor heart, so easily wounded, has been hurt. +Write to me a long letter, and do not fear to scold me if you think +that I am wrong. You know well that everything which comes from you is +agreeable to me.” [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par +Madame Ducrest p. 362.] + +While Josephine was writing this letter to her friend, General Bonaparte +received one which produced upon him the deepest impression, though it +consisted only of a few words. But these words expressed the innermost +thought of his soul, and revealed to him perhaps for the first time its +secret wishes. + +One evening as the general, returning home from a visit to the +Viscountess Josephine, entered into his drawing-room, followed by some +of his officers and adjutants, he observed on a large timepiece, which +stood on the mantel-piece, a letter, the deep-red paper and black seal +of which attracted his attention. + +“Whence this letter?” asked he, with animation, of the servant-man +walking before him with a silver candlestick, as he pointed to the red +envelope. + +But the waiter declared that he had not seen the letter, and that he +knew not where it came from. + +“Ask the other servants, or the porter, who brought this red letter with +the black seal,” ordered Bonaparte. + +The servant hurried from the room, but soon returned, with the news that +no one knew any thing about the letter; no one had seen it, no one knew +who had placed it there. + +“Well, then, let us see what it contains,” said Bonaparte, and he was +going to break the seal, when Junot suddenly seized his hand and tore +the letter away from him. + +“Do not read it, general,” implored Junot; “I beseech you do not open +this letter. Who knows if some of your enemies have not sent you a +letter a la Catharine de Medicis? Who knows if it is not poisoned--that +the mere touch of it may not produce death?” + +Bonaparte smiled at this solicitude of his tender friend, yet he +listened to his pressing alarms, and, instead of opening and reading the +letter, he passed it to Junot. + +“Read it yourself, if you have the courage to do so,” said be, +familiarly shaking his head. + +Junot rapidly broke the black seal and tore the red paper. Then, fixing +his eyes on it, he threw it aside, and broke into loud, merry laughter. + +“Well,” asked Bonaparte, “what does the letter contain?” + +“A mystery, my general--nothing more than a mystery,” cried Junot, +presenting the letter to Bonaparte. + +The letter contained but these words: + +“Macbeth, you will be king. + +“THE RED MAN.” + +Junot laughed over this mysterious note, but Bonaparte shared not in +his merriment. With compressed lips and frowning brow he looked at +these strange, prophetic words, as if in their characters he wanted to +discover the features of him who had dared to look into the most hidden +recesses of his soul; then he threw the paper into the chimney-fire, +and slowly and thoughtfully paced the room, while in a low voice he +murmured, “Macbeth, you will be king.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. MARRIAGE. + + +At last the conqueror of Toulon conquered also the heart of the young +widow who had so anxiously struggled against him; at last Josephine +overcame all her fears, all her terror, and, with joyous trust in the +future, was betrothed to General Bonaparte. But even then, after having +taken this decisive step, after love had cast away fear, even then she +had not the courage to reveal to her children that she had contracted +a new marriage-tie, that she was going to give to the orphans of the +Viscount de Beauharnais a new father. Ashamed and timid as a young maid, +she could not force herself into acknowledging to the children of +her deceased husband that a new love had grown in her heart--that the +mourning widow was to become again a happy woman. + +Josephine, therefore, commissioned Madame de Campan to communicate this +news to her Eugene and Hortense; to tell them that she desired not only +to have a husband, but also to give to her children a faithful, loving +father, who had promised to their mother with sacred oaths to regard, +love, and protect them as his own children. + +The children of General Beauharnais received this news with tears in +their eyes; they complained loudly and sorrowfully that their mother was +giving up the name of their father and changing it for another; that the +memory of their father would be forever lost in their mother’s heart. +But, through pure love for their mother, they soon dried up these tears; +and when next day Josephine, accompanied by General Bonaparte, came to +St. Germain, to visit Madame de Campan’s institution, she met there her +daughter and son, who both embraced her with the most tender affection, +and, smiling under their tears, offered their hands to General +Bonaparte, who, with all the sincerity and honesty of a deep, heart-felt +emotion, embraced them in his arms, and solemnly promised to treat them +as a father and a friend. + +All Josephine’s friends did not gladly give their approbation to her +marriage with this small, insignificant general, as yet so little known, +whose success before Toulon was already forgotten, and whose victory of +the thirteenth Vendemiaire had brought him but little fame and made him +many enemies. + +Among the friends who in this union with Bonaparte saw very little +happiness for Josephine was her lawyer, the advocate Ragideau, who for +many years had been her family’s agent, whose distinguished talent for +pleading and whose small figure had made him known through all Paris, +and of whom it was said that as a man he was but a dwarf; but as a +lawyer, he was a giant. + +One day, in virtue of an invitation from the Viscountess de Beauharnais, +Ragideau came to the small hotel of the rue Chautereine, and sent his +name to the viscountess. She received his visit, and at his entrance +into her cabinet all those present retreated into the drawing-room +contiguous thereto, as they well knew that Josephine had some business +transactions with her lawyer. + +Only one small, pale man, in modest gray clothing, whom Ragideau did +not condescend to notice, remained in the cabinet, who retired quietly +within the recess of a window. + +Josephine received her business agent with a friendly smile, and spoke +long and in detail with him concerning a few important transactions +which had reference to her approaching marriage. Then suddenly passing +from the coldness of a business conversation to the tone of a friendly +one, she asked M. Ragideau what the world said of her second marriage. + +Ragideau shrugged his shoulders and assumed a thoughtful attitude. “Your +friends, madame,” said he, “see with sorrow that you are going to marry +a soldier, who is younger than yourself, who possesses nothing but his +salary, and therefore cannot leave the service; or, if he is killed in +battle, leaves you perhaps with children, and without an inheritance.” + +“Do you share the opinion of my friends, my dear M. Ragidean?” asked +Josephine, smiling. + +“Yes,” said the lawyer, earnestly, “yes, I share them--yes. I am not +satisfied that you should contract such a marriage. You are rich, +madame; you possess a capital which secures you a yearly income of +twenty-five thousand francs; with such an income you had claims to a +brilliant marriage; and I feel conscientiously obliged, as your friend +and business agent, in whom you have trusted, and who has for you the +deepest interest, to earnestly remonstrate with you while there is +yet time. Consider it well, viscountess; it is a reckless step you are +taking, and I entreat you not to do it. I speak to your own advantage. +General Bonaparte may be a very good man, possibly quite a distinguished +soldier, but certain it is he has only his hat and his sword to offer +you.” + +Josephine now broke into a joyous laugh, and her beaming eyes turned to +the young man there who, with his back turned to the party, stood at the +window beating the panes with his fingers, apparently heedless of their +conversation. + +“General,” cried out Josephine, cheerfully, “have you heard what M. +Ragideau says?” + +Bonaparte turned slowly round, and his large eyes fell with a flaming +look upon the little advocate. + +“Yes,” said he, gravely, “I have heard all. M. Ragideau has spoken as an +honest man, and every thing he has said fills me with esteem for him. I +trust he will continue to be our agent, for I feel inclined to give him +full confidence.” + +He bowed kindly to the little lawyer, who stood there bewildered and +ashamed, and, offering his arm to Josephine, Bonaparte led her into the +drawing-room. [Footnote: The little advocate Ragideau remained after +this Josephine’s agent. When Bonaparte had become emperor, he appointed +Ragideau notary of the civil list, and always manifested the greatest +interest in his behalf, and never by a word or a look did he remind him +of the strange circumstance which brought about their acquaintance.--See +Meneval. “Napoleon et Marie Louise,” vol. i., p. 202.] + +The decisive word had been spoken: Josephine de Beauharnais was now the +bride of General Bonaparte. His hitherto pale, gloomy countenance was +all radiant with the bright light of love and happiness. The days of +solitude and privations were forgotten; the young, beautiful Desiree +Clary, whom Bonaparte so much loved a few months ago, and the amiable +Madame Permont, were also forgotten (and yet to the latter, in her loge +at the theatre, as a farce between acts, he had offered his hand); all +the little love-intrigues of former days were forgotten; to Josephine +alone belonged his heart, her alone he loved with all the impassioned +glow and depth of a first exclusive love. + +But yet, now and then, clouds darkened his large pensive brow; even her +smile could not always illumine the gloomy expression on his features; +it would happen that, plunged in deep, sad cogitations, he heard not the +question which she addressed him in her remarkably soft and clear voice +which Bonaparte so much loved. + +His lofty pride felt humiliated and disgraced by the part he was now +performing. + +He was the general of the army of the interior, but beyond the frontiers +of France there stood another French army, whose soldiers had not the +sad mission to maintain peace and quietness at home, to fight against +brothers; but an army seeking for the foe, whose blood and victories +were to secure them laurels. + +General Bonaparte longed to be with this army, and to obliterate the +remembrance of the 13th Vendemiaire and its sad victory by brilliant +exploits beyond the Alps. It was also to him a humiliating and +depressing feeling to become the husband of a wealthy woman, and not +bring her as a glorious gift or a wedding-present the fame and laurels +of a husband. + +It has often been said that Josephine obtained for her husband, as +a wedding-gift, his appointment of commanding general of the army in +Italy; that she procured this appointment from Barras, with whom, before +her acquaintance with Bonaparte, she had been in closer relationship +than that of mere friendship. Even such historians as Schlosser have +accepted this calumny as truth, without taking pains to investigate +whether the facts justified this supposition. In the great historical +events which have shaken nations, it is really of little importance if, +under the light which illumines and brings out such events, a shadow +should fall and darken an individual. Even the hatred and scorn with +which a nation, trodden down in the dust, curses a tyrant, and endeavors +to take vengeance on his fame, ask not if the stone flung at the hated +one falls upon other heads than the one aimed at. + +Not Josephine, but Bonaparte, did they wish to injure when stating she +had been the beloved of Barras. It was Bonaparte whom they wished to +humble and mortify, when historians published that, not to his merits, +but to the petitions of his wife, he was indebted for his commission as +general of the army in Italy. + +But truth justifies not this calumny; and when with the light of truth +the path of the widow of General Beauharnais is lighted, it will be +found that this path led to solitude and quietness; that at none of the +great and brilliant banquets which Barras then gave, and which in the +Moniteur are described with so much pomp, not once is, the name of +Viscountess de Beauharnais mentioned; that in the numerous pasquinades +and lampoons which then appeared in Paris and in all France, and in +which all private life was fathomed, not once is the name of Josephine +brought out, neither is there any indirect allusion to her. + +Calumny has placed this stain on Josephine’s brow, but truth takes it +away. And that truth is, that not Josephine, but Bonaparte, was the +friend of Barras; that it was not Barras, but Carnot, who promoted +Bonaparte to the rank of commanding general of the army in Italy. + +Carnot, the minister of war of the republic, the noble, incorruptible +republican, whose character, pure, bright, and true as steel, turned +aside all the darts of wickedness and calumny, which could not inflict +even a wound, or leave a stain on the brilliancy of his spotless +character, has given upon this point his testimony in a refutation. At +a later period, when the hatred of parties, and the events of the 18th +Fructidor, had forced him to flee from France, he defended himself +against the accusation launched at him in the Council of the Five +Hundred, which pointed him out as a traitor to the republic; and this +defence gave a detailed account of the whole time of his administration, +and especially what he achieved for the republic, claiming as one of his +services the appointment of Bonaparte. + +“It is not true,” says he, “that Barras proposed Bonaparte for the chief +command of the army in Italy. I myself did it. But time was allowed to +intervene, so as to ascertain whether Bonaparte would succeed before +Barras congratulated himself, and then only to his confidants, that it +was he who had made this proposition to the Directory. Had Bonaparte +not answered the expectations, then I should have been the one to +blame: then it would have been I who had chosen a young, inexperienced, +intriguing man; and I who had betrayed the nation, for the other members +did not interfere in war-matters; upon me all responsibility would +have fallen. But as Bonaparte is victorious, then it must be Barras +who appointed him! To Barras alone are the people indebted for this +nomination! He is Bonaparte’s protector, his defender against my +attacks! I am jealous of Bonaparte; I cross him in all his plans; I +lower his character; I persecute him; I refuse him all assistance; I, in +all probability, am to plunge him into ruin!”--such were the calumnies +which at that time filled the journals bribed by Barras. [Footnote: +“Response de L. N. M. Carnot, citoyen francais, l’un des fondateurs +de la republique, et membre constitutionnel du Directoire executif an +rapport fait sur la conjuration du 18 Fructidor an conseil des Cinq +Cents.”] + +To Carnot, the secretary of war of the republic, did Bonaparte go, to +ask of him the command of the army in Italy. But Carnot answered him, as +he had already before Aubry, the minister of war, “You are too young.” + +“Let us put appearances and age aside,” said Bonaparte, impatiently. +“Alexander, Scipio, Conde, and many others, though still younger than +I, marched armies to brilliant conquests, and decided the fate of whole +kingdoms. I believe I have given a few proofs of what I can achieve, if +I am set at the right place; and I burn with great longing to serve my +country, to obtain victories over despots who hate France because they +fear, calumniate, and envy her!” + +“I know you are a good patriot,” said Carnot, slowly turning his head; +“I know and appreciate your services, and you may rest assured that +the obstacles which I place in your path are not directed against you +personally. But do you know the situation of our army? It is devoured +by the quartermaster; betrayed and sold, I fear, by its general, and +demoralized, notwithstanding its successes! That army needs every thing, +even discipline, whilst the enemy’s army has all that we need. We want +nearly a miracle to be victorious. Whoever is to lead to success our +disordered, famished, disorganized army must, above all things, possess +its full confidence. Besides which, without further events, I cannot +dismiss the commanding general, Scherer, but I must wait until some +new disgrace furnishes me the right to do so. You know all. Judge for +yourself.” + +“I have already made all these objections within my own mind,” replied +Bonaparte, quietly; “yet I do not despair that if you will give me your +advice and assistance, I will overcome all these difficulties. Listen to +me, and I will let you know my plan for the arrangement of the war, and +I am convinced you will give it your sanction.” + +With glowing eloquence, complete clearness and assurance, and the +convincing quietude of a persuaded, all-embracing, all-weighing mind, +Bonaparte unfolded the daring and astounding plan of his campaign. As he +spoke, his face brightened more and more, his eyes glowed with the +fire of inspiration, his countenance beamed with that exalted, wondrous +beauty which is granted to genius alone in the highest moments of its +ecstasy; the small, insignificant, pale young man became the bold, +daring hero, who was fully prepared gladly to tread a world under his +feet. + +Carnot, who had looked on in astonishment, was finally carried away, +inspired by the persuasive eloquence of the young general, who in a +few words understood how to map out battle-fields, to measure whole +engagements, and to give to every one the needful and appropriate place. + +“You are right,” cried Carnot, delighted, and offering his hand to +Bonaparte. “This plan must be carried out, and then we shall conquer our +enemies. I no longer doubt of the result, and from this moment you can +rely upon me. You shall be commander-in-chief of the army in Italy. I +will myself propose you to the Directory, and I will so warmly speak +in your favor, that my request will be granted.” [Footnote: “Memoires +historiques et militaires, sur Carnot,” vol. ii.] + +On this day the face of General Bonaparte was irradiated with a still +deeper lustre than when Josephine avowed that his love was returned, and +when she consented to be his. + +Josephine’s affianced, in the depths of his heart, retained a deep, +unfulfilled desire, an unreached aim of his existence. The commanding +general of the army in Italy had nothing more to wish, or to long +for; he now stood at hope’s summit, and saw before him the brilliant, +glorious goal of ambition toward which the path lay open before him. + +Love alone could not satisfy the heart of Napoleon; the larger portion +of it belonged to ambition--to the lust for a warrior’s fame. + +“I am going to live only for the future,” said Bonaparte, that day, to +Junot, as he related to him the successful result of his interview with +Carnot. “None of you know me yet, but you will soon. You will see what +I can do: I feel within me something which urges me onward. Too long has +the war been limited to a single district; I will take it into the heart +of the continent, I will bring it on fresh soil, and so carry it out +that the men of habit will lose their footing, and the old officers +their heads, so that they will no more know where they are. The soldiers +will see what one man, with a will of iron, can accomplish. All this +I will do--and from this day I strike out from the dictionary the word +‘impossible!’” + +Carnot was true to his word. On the 23d day of February, 1796, Bonaparte +was appointed by the Directory commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. + +From the face of the young general beamed forth the smile of victory; +he was now certain of the future! He now knew that to his Josephine he +could offer more than a hat and a sword, that he would bring her undying +fame and victory’s brilliant crown. This was to be the dowry before +which the twenty-five thousand francs’ yearly income, which the little +giant Ragideau had so highly prized, would fall into the background. + +On the 9th of March the marriage between General Bonaparte and the widow +Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais took place. Barras, as member of +the government, was Bonaparte’s first witness; his second was Captain +Lemarrois, his adjutant; and the choice of this witness was a delicate +homage which Napoleon paid to his dear Josephine: for Lemarrois was the +one who had first led the boy Eugene to Bonaparte, and had thus been the +means of his acquaintance with Josephine. + +The two witnesses of Josephine were Tallien, who had delivered her from +prison, and to whom she owed the restoration of her property, and a +M. Calmelet, an old friend and counsellor of the Beauharnais family. +[Footnote: “Souvenirs historiques du Baron de Meneval,” vol. i., p. +340.] + +In the pure modesty of her heart, Josephine had not desired that the two +children of her deceased husband should be the witnesses of her second +marriage, and Bonaparte was glad that Josephine’s bridal wreath would +not be bedewed with the tears of memory. + +On this happy day of Bonaparte’s marriage, so much of the past was set +aside, that the certificate of baptism of the betrothed was forgotten, +and the number of years which made Josephine older than Bonaparte was +struck out. + +The civil record, which M. Leclerc received of the marriage of Bonaparte +and Josephine, describes them as being nearly of the same age, for it +ran thus: “Napoleon Bonaparte, born in Ajaccio, on the 5th of February, +1768; and Marie Josephe Rosa Tascher de la Pagerie, born in Martinique, +the 23d of June, 1767.” + +Bonaparte’s glowing and impassioned love led him--in order to spare his +Josephine the smallest, degree of humiliation--to alter and destroy the +dates of the certificate of their baptism; for Bonaparte was born on the +15th of August, 1769, and Josephine on the 23d of June, 1763. She was +consequently six years older than he; but she knew not that these six +years would, one day, be the abyss which was to swallow her happiness, +her love, her grandeur. + +Two days after his marriage with Josephine, Bonaparte left Paris for the +army, to travel in haste, an uninterrupted journey toward Italy. + +“I must hasten to my post,” said he smiling to Josephine, “for an +army without a chief is like a widow who can commit foolish deeds and +endanger her reputation. I am responsible for the army’s conduct from +the moment of my appointment.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. BONAPARTE’S LOVE-LETTERS. + + +Carnot had told Bonaparte the truth concerning the state of the army in +Italy. His statements were sustained by the proclamation which the new +commander-in-chief of the army in Italy addressed to his soldiers, as +for the first time he welcomed them at Nice. + +“Soldiers,” said he, “you are naked and badly fed; the government owes +you much, and can give you nothing. Your patience and the courage you +have exhibited amid these rocks are worthy of admiration; but you gain +no fame: no glory falls upon you here. I will lead you into the fertile +plains of the world; rich provinces and large cities will fall into +your power; there you will find honor, fame, and abundance. Soldiers of +Italy, would you fail in courage and perseverance?” [Footnote: Norvins, +“Histoire de Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 89.] + +The mangled, ragged, half-starved soldiers answered with loud +enthusiastic shouts. When the vivats had died away, an old veteran +came out of the ranks, and with countenance half-defiant, half-smiling, +looking at the little general, he asked: “General, what must we do +that the roasted partridges, which are promised to us, may fly into our +mouths?” + +“Conquer,” cried Bonaparte, with a loud resounding voice--“conquer! +To the brave, glory and good repasts! To the coward, disgrace! To the +faint-hearted, misery! I will lead you into the path of victory. Will +you follow?” + +“We will, we will!” shouted the soldiers. “Long live the little general +who is to deliver us from our wretchedness, who is to lead us into +victory’s path!” + +Bonaparte kept his word. He led them to Voltri, to the bridge of Arcola, +to Lodi. But amid his wild career of fights, hardships, vigils, studies, and +perils, the thought of Josephine was the guiding star of his heart. +His mind was with her amid the battle’s storm; he thought of her in +the camp, on the march, in the greatest conflict, and after the most +brilliant victories. This was shown in the letters he wrote every day +to Josephine; and in the brilliant hymns which the warrior, amid the +carnage of war, sung with the enthusiastic fervor of a poet to his love +and to his happiness. + +It is the mission of eminent historians, when describing his victorious +campaign of Italy, to narrate his conquests; our mission is simply to +observe him in his conduct toward Josephine, and to show how under the +uniform of the warrior beat the heart of the lover. + +The letters which Bonaparte then wrote to Josephine are consequently +what concerns us most, and from which we will select a few as a proof of +the impassioned love which Napoleon felt for his young wife. + +LETTERS OF GENERAL BONAPARTE TO JOSEPHINE. + +I. “PORT MAURICE, the 14th Germinal (April 3), 1796. + +“I have received all your letters, but none has made so much impression +on me as the last one. How can you, my adored friend, speak to me in +that way? Do you not believe that my situation here is already horrible +enough, without your exciting my longings, and still more setting my +soul in rebellion? What a style! what emotions you describe! They glow +like fire, they burn my poor heart! My own Josephine, away from you, +there is no joy; away from you, the world is a wilderness in which I +feel alone, and have no one in whom I can confide. You have taken from +me more than my soul; you are the only thought of my life. When I feel +weary with the burden of affairs, when I dread some inauspicious result, +when men oppose me, when I am ready to curse life itself, I place my +hand upon my heart, your image beats there; I gaze on it, and love is +for me absolute bliss, and everything smiles except when I am away from +my beloved. + +“By what art have you been able to enchain all my powers, and to +concentrate in yourself all my mental existence? It is an enchantment, +my dear friend, which is to end only with my life. To live for +Josephine, such is the history of my life! I am working to return to +you, I am dying to approach you! Fool that I am, I see not that I am +more and more drifting away from you! How much space, how many mountains +separate us! how long before you can read these words, the feeble +expression of a throbbing soul in which you rule! Ah, my adored wife, I +know not what future awaits me, but if it keeps me much longer away from +you, it will be intolerable; my courage reaches not that far. There was +a time when I was proud of my reputation; and sometimes when I cast +my eyes on the wrong which men could have done me, on the fate which +Providence might have in reserve for me, I prepared myself for the most +unheard-of adversities without wrinkling the brow or suffering fear; but +now the thought that my Josephine should be uncomfortable, or sick, +or, above all, the cruel, horrible thought that she might love me +less, makes my soul tremble, and my blood to remain still, bringing +on sadness, despondency, and taking away even the courage of anger and +despair. In times past I used to say, ‘Men have no power over him who +dies without regret.’ But now to die without being loved by you, to die +without the certainty of being loved, is for me the pains of hell, the +living, fearful feeling of complete annihilation. It is as if I were +going to suffocate! My own companion, you whom fate has given me, to +make life’s painful journey, the day when no more I can call your heart +mine, when nature will be for me without warmth, without vitality. ... I +will give way, my sweet friend (ma douce amie); my soul is sorrowful, my +body languishes; men weary me. I have a good right to detest them, for +they keep me away from my heart. + +“I am now in Port Maurice, near to Oneglia; to-morrow I go to Albenga. +Both armies are moving forward; we are endeavoring to deceive each +other. Victory belongs to the swiftest. I am well satisfied with General +Beaulieu, he manoeuvres well; he is a stronger man than his predecessor. +I trust to beat him soundly. Be without care; love me as your eyes; +but no, that is not enough, as yourself, more than yourself, as your +thoughts, as your spirit, your life, your all! Sweet friend, pardon me; +I am beyond myself; nature is too weak for him who feels with passion, +for him whom you love. + +“To Barras, Sucy, Madame Tallien, my heart-felt friendship; to Madame +Chateau Renaud, kindest regards; for Eugene and Hortense, my true love. +N. B.” + +II. “ALBENGA, the 18th Germinal (April 7), 1796 [Footnote: The three +following letters have never been published until recently, and are not +to be found in any collection of letters from Napoleon and Josephine, +not even among those published by Queen Hortense: “Lettres de Napoleon a +Josephine, et de Josephine a Napoleon.” They are published for the first +time in the “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” by Aubenas, and were +communicated to this author in Napoleon’s manuscript by the well-known +and famous gatherer of autographs, Feuillet de Couches.] + +“I have just now received your letter, which you break off, as you say, +to go to the country; and then, you assume a tone as if you were envious +of me, who am here nearly overwhelmed by affairs and by exertion! Ah, my +dear friend, ... it is true, I am wrong. In the spring it is so pleasant +in the country; and then the beloved one of eighteen years will be so +happy there; how would it be possible to lose one moment for the sake +of writing to him who is three hundred miles away from you, who lives, +breathes, exists only in remembering you, who reads your letters as a +man, after hunting for six hours, devours a meal he is fond of. + +“I am satisfied. Your last letter is cold, like friendship. I have not +found in it the fire which glows in your eyes, the fire which I have +at least imagined to be there. So far runs my fancy. I found that your +first letters oppressed my soul too much; the revolution which they +created in me disturbed my peace and bewildered my senses. I wanted +letters more cold, and now they bring on me the chill of death. The +fear of being no more loved by Josephine--the thought of having her +inconstant--of seeing her ... But I martyrize myself with anguish! There +is enough in the reality, without imagining any more! You cannot have +inspired me with this immeasurable love without sharing it; and with +such a soul, such thoughts, such an understanding as you possess, it +is impossible that, as a reward for the most glowing attachment and +devotion, you should return a mortal blow. ... + +“You say nothing of your bodily sufferings; they have my regret. +Farewell till to-morrow, mio dolce amor. From my own wife a thought--and +from fate a victory; these are all my wishes: one sole, undivided +thought from you, worthy of him who every moment thinks of you. + +“My brother is here. He has heard of my marriage with pleasure. He longs +to become acquainted with you. I am endeavoring to persuade him to go to +Paris, His wife has recently given birth to a daughter. They send you +a box of bonbons from Genoa as a present. You will receive oranges, +perfumes, and water of orange-flowers, which I send you. Junot and Murat +send their best wishes. + +“N. B.” + +The victory which Bonaparte implored from his destiny was soon to take +place; and the battle of Mondovi, which followed the capitulation of +Cherasco, made Bonaparte master of Piedmont and of the passes of the +Alps. He sent his brother Joseph to Paris, to lay before the Directory +pressing considerations concerning the necessity and importance of +concluding a permanent peace with the King of Sardinia, so as to isolate +Austria entirely in Italy. At the same time Junot was to take to the +Directory the conquered standards. Joseph and Junot travelled together +from Nice by means of post-horses, and they made so rapid a journey that +in one hundred and twenty hours they reached Paris. + +The victor’s messengers and the conquered flags were received in Paris +with shouts of rapture, and with a glowing enthusiasm for General +Bonaparte. His name was on every tongue. In the streets and on the +squares crowds gathered together to talk of the glorious news, and to +shout their acclamations to the brave army and its general. Even the +Directory, the five monarchs of France, shared the universal joy and +enthusiasm. They received Joseph and Junot with affable complacency, and +communicated to the army and to its general public eulogies. In honor +of the messengers who had brought the standards and the propositions of +peace, they gave a brilliant banquet; and Carnot, proud of having been +the one who had brought about Bonaparte’s appointment, went so far in +his enthusiasm as at the close of the banquet to tear his garments open +and exhibit to the assembled guests Napoleon’s portrait which he carried +on his breast. + +“Tell your brother,” cried he to Joseph, “that I carry him here on my +heart, for I foresee he will be the deliverer of France, and therefore +he must know that in the Directory he has only admirers and friends.” + [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 62.] + +But something else, more glorious than these salutations of love from +France and from the Directory, was to be brought back by his messengers +to the victorious commander-his wife, his Josephine; he claimed her +as the reward of battles won. Joseph was not only the messenger of the +general, he was also the messenger of the lover; and before delivering +his papers to the Directory, he had first, as Bonaparte had ordered him, +to deliver to Josephine his letter which called her to Milan. Napoleon +had thus written to her: + +III. “TO MY SWEET FRIEND! + +“CAEN, the 3rd Floreal (May 24), 1796. + +“My brother will hand you this letter. I cherish for him the most +intimate friendship. I trust he will also gain your affection. He +deserves it. Nature has gifted him with a tender and inexhaustibly good +character; he is full of rare qualities. I write to Barras to have +him appointed consul to some Italian port. He desires to live with his +little wife away from the world’s great stream of events. I recommend +him to you. + +“I have received your letters of the 16th and of the 21st. You have +indeed for many days forgotten to write. What, then, are you doing? Yes, +my dear friend, I am not exactly jealous, but I am sometimes uneasy. +Hasten, then, for I tell you beforehand that if you delay I shall be +sick. So great exertion, combined with your absence, is too much. + +“Your letters are the joys of my days, and my happy days are not too +many. Junot takes to Paris twenty-two standards. You will come back with +him, will you not? .... Misery without remedy, sorrow without comfort, +unmitigated anguish, will be my portion if it is my misfortune to +see him come back alone, my own adored wife! He will see you, he will +breathe at your shrine, and perhaps you will even grant him the special +and unsurpassed privilege of kissing your cheeks, and I, I will be far, +far away! You will come here, at my side, to my heart, in my arms! +Take wings, come, come! Yet, journey slowly; the road is long, bad, +fatiguing! If your carriage were to upset, if some calamity were to +happen, if the exertion. ... Set out at once, my beloved one, but travel +slowly! + +“I have received a letter from Hortense, a very acceptable one indeed. +I am going to answer it. I love her much, and will soon send her the +perfumes she desires. N. B.” + +But Josephine could not meet at once the ardent wishes of her husband. +She had, on the receipt of his letter, made with Joseph all the +necessary preparations for the journey; but the ailment which had so +long troubled her, broke out, and a violent illness prostrated her. + +Bonaparte’s suffering and anger at this news were unbounded; a terrible +restlessness and anxiety took possession of him, and, to obtain speedy +and reliable news from Josephine, he sent from Milan to Paris a special +courier, whose only business it was to carry a letter to Josephine. + +The general had nothing to communicate to the Directory; it was only +the lover writing to his beloved! What fire, what energy of passion, +penetrated him, is evident from the following letter: + +IV. “TORTONA, at noon, the 27th Prairial, + +“In the Year IV. of the Republic (15th June, 1796). + +“To Josephine: My life is a ceaseless Alpine burden. An oppressive +foreboding prevents me from breathing. I live no more, I have lost more +than life, more than happiness, more than rest! I am without hope. I +send you a courier. He will remain only four hours in Paris, and return +with your answer. Write me only ten lines; they will be some comfort +to me. ... You are sick, you love me, I have troubled you; you are +pregnant, and I cannot see you. This thought bewilders me. I have done +you so much wrong, that I know not how to make amends for it. I found +fault because you remained in Paris, and you were sick! Forgive me, my +beloved. The passion you have inspired in me has taken my reason away; I +cannot find it again. One is never cured of this evil. My contemplations +are so horrible, that it would be a satisfaction to see you; to press +you for two hours to my heart, and then, to die together! Who takes care +of you? I imagine that you have sent for Hortense. I love this child +a thousand times more, when I think she can comfort you somewhat. As +regards myself, there will be no solace, no rest, no hope, before the +courier whom I have sent to you has returned, and you have told me in a +long letter the cause of your illness, and how serious it is. I tell +you beforehand that if it is dangerous I will at once go to Paris. +My presence would be called for by your sickness. I have always been +fortunate. Never has Fate stood against my wishes, and to-day it strikes +me where only wounds are possible. Josephine, how can you delay so long +in writing to me? Your last laconic note is dated the 3d of this month, +and this adds to my sorrow. Yet I have it always in my pocket. Your +portrait and your letters are always under my eyes. + +“I am nothing without you. I can scarcely understand how I have lived +without knowing you. Ah, Josephine, if you know my heart, could you +remain without writing from the 29th of May to the 16th of June, and not +travel hither? Have you lent an ear to faithless friends, who wish to +keep you away from me? I am angry with the whole world; I accuse every +one round about you. I had calculated that you would leave on the 5th, +and be at Milan on the 15th. + +“Josephine, if you love me, if you believe that all depends on the +recovery of your health, take good care of yourself. I dare not tell you +not to undertake so long a journey--not to travel in the heat, if +you possibly can move. Make small journeys; write to me at every +stopping-place, and send me each time your letters by a courier. ... +Your sickness troubles me by night and by day. Without appetite or +sleep, without regard for friendship, reputation, or country!--you and +you alone! The rest of the world exists no more for me than if it were +sunk into oblivion. I still cling to honor, for you hold to it; to fame, +for it is a joy to you; if it were not for this, I would have abandoned +every thing to hasten to your feet. + +“Sometimes, I say to myself: ‘I trouble myself without cause, she is +already well, she has left Paris and is on the way, she is perhaps in +Lyons.’ ... Fruitless deception! You are in your bed, suffering--more +interesting--more worthy of adoration; you are pale, and your eyes are +more languishing than ever! when you are well again, if one of us is +to be sick, cannot I be the one? for I am stronger, I have more vital +power, and would therefore sooner conquer sickness. Fate is cruel, it +strikes me through you. + +“What sometimes comforts me is to know that on fate depends your +sickness, but that it depends on no one to oblige me to outlive you. + +“Be careful, my dearly-beloved one, to tell me in your letter that you +are convinced that I love you above all that can be conceived; that +never has it come to me to think of other women; that they are all in my +eyes without grace, beauty, or wit; that you, you entirely, you as I +see you, as you are, can please me and fetter all the powers of my soul; +that you have grasped it in all its immeasurableness; that my heart has +no folds closed from your eyes, no thoughts which belong not to you; +that my energies, arms, mind, every thing in me, is subject to you; that +my spirit lives in your body; that the day when you will be inconstant +or when you will cease to live, will be the day of my death, and that +nature and earth are beautiful to my eyes only because you live in them. +If you do not believe all this, if your soul is not convinced of it, +penetrated with it, then I am deceived in you, then you love me no more. +A magnetic fluid runs between persons who love one another. You know +that I could never see, much less could I endure, a lover: to see him +and to tear his heart would be one and the same thing; and then I might +even lay hands on your sacred person.... no, I would never dare do it, +but I would fly from a world where those I deem the most virtuous have +deceived me. + +“But I am certain of your love, and proud of it. Accidents are +probations which keep alive all the energies of our mutual affections. +My adored one, you will give birth to a child resembling his mother; +it will pass many years in your arms. Unfortunate that I am, I would be +satisfied with one day! A thousand kisses on your eyes and lips! .... +adored wife, how mighty is your spell! I am ill on account of your +illness. I have a burning fever. Retain the courier no longer than +six hours; then let him return, that he may bring me a letter from my +sovereign. N. B.” + +These were the first letters which Josephine received from her loving, +tender husband. They are a splendid monument of affection with which +love adorns the solitary grave of the departed empress; and surely in +the dark hours of her life, the remembrance of these days of happiness, +of these letters so full of passionate ardor, must have alleviated the +bitterness of her grief and given her the consolation that at least she +was once loved as perhaps no other woman on earth can boast! All these +letters of Bonaparte, during the days of his first prosperity, and of +his earnest cravings, Josephine had carefully gathered; they were to be, +amid the precious and costly treasures which the future was to lay at +her feet, the most glorious and most prized, and which she preserved +with sacred loyalty as long as she lived. + +This is the reason that, out of all the letters which Bonaparte wrote +to Josephine during long years, not one is lost; that there is no gap in +the correspondence, and that we can with complete certainty, from week +to week and year to year, follow the relations which existed between +them, and that the thermometer can be placed on Bonaparte’s heart +to observe how by degrees the heat diminishes, the warmth of passion +disappears into the cool temperature of a quiet friendship, and how it +never sinks to cold indifference, even when Josephine had to yield to +the young and proud daughter of Austria, and give up her place at the +side of the emperor. + +Of all the letters of Josephine to Bonaparte, which were now so glowing +that they seemed to devour him with flames of fire and bewildered his +senses, and then so cold and indifferent that they caused the chill of +death to pass over his frame--of all these, not one has been preserved +to posterity. Perhaps the Emperor Napoleon destroyed them; when in the +Tuileries he received Josephine’s successor, his second wife, and +when he endeavored to destroy in his own proud heart the memory of the +beautiful, happy past, he there destroyed those letters, that they might +return to dust, even as his own love had returned. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. + + +Bonaparte’s letter, which the courier brought to Josephine, found her +recovered, and ready to follow her husband’s call, and go to Milan. +But she was deprived of one precious and joyous hope: the child, which +Bonaparte so much envied because it would pass many years in Josephine’s +arms, was never to be born. + +In the last days of the month of June Josephine arrived in Milan. Her +whole journey had been one uninterrupted triumph. In Turin, at the court +of the King of Sardinia, she had received the homage of the people as +if she were the wife of a mighty ruler; and wherever she went, she was +received with honors and distinction. To Turin Bonaparte had sent before +him one of his adjutants, General Marmont, afterward Duke de Ragusa, to +convey to her his kindest regards and to accompany her with a military +escort as far as Milan. In the palace de Serbelloni, his residence in +Milan, adorned as for a feast, Bonaparte received her with a countenance +radiant with joy and happy smiles such as seldom brightened his pale, +gloomy features. + +But Bonaparte had neither much time nor leisure to devote to his +domestic happiness, to his long-expected reunion with Josephine. Only +three days could the happy lover obtain from the restless commander; +then he had to tear himself away from his sweet repose, to carry +on further the deadly strife which he had begun in Italy against +Austria--which had decided not to give away one foot of Lombardy without +a struggle--and not to submit to the conqueror of Lodi. A new army +was marched into Italy under the command of General Wurmser, the same +against whom, three years before, on the shores of the Rhine, Alexandre +de Beauharnais had fought in vain. At the head of sixty thousand men +Wurmser moved into Italy to relieve Mantua, besieged by the French. + +This alarming news awoke Bonaparte out of his dream of love, and neither +Josephine’s tears nor prayers could keep him back. He sent couriers to +Paris, to implore from the Directory fresh troops and more money, to +continue the campaign. The Directory answered him with the proposition +to divide the army of Italy into two columns, one of which would act +under the commander-in-chief, General Kellermann, the other under +Bonaparte. + +But this proposition, which the jealous Directory made for the sake of +breaking the growing power of Bonaparte, only served to lift him a step +higher in his path to the brilliant career which he alone, in the depths +of his heart, had traced, and the secret of which his closed lips would +reveal to no one. + +Bonaparte’s answer to this proposition of the Directory was, that if +the power were to be divided, he could only refuse the half of this +division, and would retire entirely from command. + +He wrote to Carnot: “It is a matter of indifference to me whether I +carry on the war here or elsewhere. To serve my country, and deserve +from posterity one page of history, is all my ambition! If both I and +Kellermann command in Italy, then all is lost. General Kellermann has +more experience than I, and will carry on the war more ably. But the +matter can only be badly managed if we both command. It is no pleasure +for me to serve with a man whom Europe considers the first general of +the age.” + +Carnot showed this letter to the Directory, and declared that if +Bonaparte were to be given up, he would himself resign his position of +secretary of war. The Directory was not prepared to accept this twofold +responsibility, and they sacrificed Kellermann to the threats of +Napoleon and Carnot. + +General Bonaparte was confirmed in his position of commander-in-chief of +the army in Italy, even for the future, and the conduct of the war was +left in his hands alone. + +With this fresh triumph over his enemies at home, Bonaparte marched from +Milan to fight the re-enforced enemy of France in Italy. + +On this new war-path, amid dangers and conflicts, the tumults of the +fight, the noise of the camp, the confusion of the bivouac, the young +general did not for one moment forget the wife he so passionately loved. +Nearly every day he wrote to her, and those letters, which were often +written between the dictation of the battle’s plan, the dispatches to +the Directory, and the impending conflict, were faithful waymarks, whose +directions it is easy to follow, and thus trace the whole successful +course of the hero of Italy. + +To refer here to Bonaparte’s letters to Josephine, implies at once the +mention of Bonaparte’s deeds and of Josephine’s happiness. The first +letter which he wrote after the interview in Milan is from Roverbella, +and it tells her in a few words that he has just now beaten the foe, +and that he is going to Verona. The second is also short and hastily +written, but is full of many delicate assurances of love, and also that +he has met and defeated the foe at Verona. The third letter is from +Marmirolo, and shows that Bonaparte, notwithstanding his constant +changes of position, had taken the precautions that Josephine’s letters +should everywhere follow him; for in Marmirolo he received one, and this +tender letter filled him with so much joy, thanks, and longings, that, +in virtue of it, he forgets conquests and triumphs entirely, and is only +the longing, tender lover. He writes: + +“MARMIROLO, the 29th Messidor, 9 in the evening” (July 17), 1796. + +“I am just now in receipt of your letter, my adored one; it has filled +my heart with joy. I am thankful for the pains you have taken to send me +news about yourself; with your improved health, all will be well; I am +convinced that you have now recovered. I would impress upon you the duty +of riding often; this will be a healthy exercise for you. + +“Since I left you I am forever sorrowful. My happiness consists in being +near you. Constantly does my memory renew your kisses, your tears, your +amiable jealousy; and the charms of the incomparable Josephine kindle +incessantly a burning flame within my heart and throughout my senses. +When shall I, free from all disturbance and care, pass all my moments +with you, and have nothing to do but to love, nothing to think of but +the happiness to tell it and prove it to you? I am going to send you +your horse, and I trust you will soon be able to be with me. A few days +ago I thought I loved you, but since I have seen you again, I feel that +I love you a thousand times more. Since I knew you, I worship you more +and more every day; this proves the falsity of La Bruyere’s maxim, which +says that love springs up all at once. Every thing in nature has its +growth in different degrees. Ah, I implore you, let me see some of your +faults; be then less beautiful, less graceful, less tender, less good; +especially be never tender, never weep: your tears deprive me of my +reason, and change my blood into fire. Believe me, that it is not in my +power to have a single thought which concerns you not, or an idea which +is not subservient to you. + +“Keep very quiet. Recover soon your health. Come to me, that at least +before dying we may say, ‘We were happy so many, many days!’ + +“Millions of kisses even for Fortune, notwithstanding its naughtiness. +[Footnote: Fortune was that little peevish dog which, when Josephine +was in prison, served as love-messenger between her and her children.] +BONAPARTE.” + +But this letter, full of tenderness and warmth, is not yet enough for +the ardent lover; it does not express sufficiently his longing, his +love. The very next day, from the same quarters of Marmirolo, he writes +something like a postscript to the missive of the previous day. He tells +her that he has made an attack upon Mantua, but that a sudden fall of +the waters of the lake had delayed his troops already embarked, and that +this day he is going to try again in some other way; that the enemy a +few days past had made a sortie and killed a few hundred men, but that +they themselves, with considerable loss, had to retreat rapidly into the +fortress, and that three Neapolitan regiments had entered Brescia. But +between each of these sentences intervene some strong assurance of his +love, some tender or flattering words; and finally, at the end of the +letter, comes the principal object, the cause why it was written. The +tender lover wanted some token from his beloved: it is not enough for +him always to carry her portrait and her letters, he must also have a +lock of her hair. He writes: + +“I have lost my snuffbox; I pray you find me another, somewhat more +flat, and pray have something pretty written upon it, with a lock +of your hair. A thousand burning kisses, since you are so cold, love +unbounded, and faithfulness beyond all proof.” + +Two days afterward he writes again from Marmirolo, at first hastily, a +few words about the war, then he comes to the main point. He has been +guilty, toward Josephine, of a want of politeness, and, with all the +tenderness and humility of a lover, he asks forgiveness. Her pardon and +her constant tardiness in answering his letters, are to him more weighty +matters than all the battles and victories of his restless camp-life, +and therefore he begins at once with a complaint at his separation from +her. + +“MARMIROLO, the 1st Thermidor, Year IV. (July 19, 1796.)” For the last +two days I am without letters from you. This remark I have repeated +thirty times; you feel that this for me is sad. You cannot, however, +doubt of the tenderness and undivided solicitude with which you inspire +me.” + +“We attacked Mantua yesterday. We opened upon it, from two batteries, a +fire of shells and red-hot balls. The whole night the unfortunate city +was burning. The spectacle was terrible and sublime. We have taken +possession of numerous outworks, and we open the trenches to-night. +To-morrow we make our headquarters at Castiglione, and think of passing +* the night there.” + +“I have received a courier from Paris. He brought two letters for you: I +have read them. Though this action seems to me very simple, as you +gave me permission so to do, yet, I fear, it will annoy you, and that +troubles me exceedingly. I wanted at first to seal them over again; but, +pshaw! that would have been horrible. If I am guilty, I beg your pardon. +I swear to you I did it not through jealousy; no, certainly not; I have +of my adored one too high an opinion to indulge in such a feeling. I +wish you would once for all allow me to read your letters; then I should +not have any twittings of conscience or fear.” + +“Achilles, the courier, has arrived from Milan; no letter from my adored +one! Farewell, my sole happiness! When will you come, and be with me? I +shall have to fetch you from Milan myself.” + +“A thousand kisses, burning as my heart, pure as yours!” + +“I have sent for the courier; he says he was at your residence, and that +you had nothing to say, nothing to order! Fie! wicked, hateful, cruel +tyrant!--pretty little monster! You laugh at my threats and my madness; +ah, you know very well that if I could shut you up in my heart, I would +keep you there a prisoner.” + +“Let me know that you are cheerful, right well, and loving!” + +“BONAPARTE.” + +But Josephine seems not to have answered this letter as Napoleon +desired. She knew that it was nothing but unfounded jealousy which had +induced him to read the letters sent to her, and to punish him for this +jealousy she forbade him to read her letters in the future. + +But while she reproached him in a jesting manner, and punished him for +this jealousy, she, herself, with all the inconsistency of a lover, fell +into the same fault, and could not hide from him the jealous fears which +the ladies from Brescia, especially the beautiful Madame de Te----, +had created within her mind. Bonaparte answered this letter as general, +lover, and husband; he gives an account of his war operations, submits +to her will as a lover, and commands her as a husband to come to him in +Brescia. + +“CASTIGLIONE, the 4th Thermidor, Year IV. (July 22, 1796). + +“The wants of the army require my presence in these parts; it is +impossible for me to go so far away as Milan; it would require for that +purpose five or six days, and during that time circumstances might arise +which would make my presence here absolutely necessary. + +“You assure me that your health is now good; consequently, I pray you +to come to Brescia. At this moment I am sending Murat into the city to +prepare you such a house as you wish. + +“I believe that you can very well sleep in Cassano on the 6th, if you +leave Milan late, so as to be in Brescia on the 7th, where the most +tender of lovers awaits you. I am in despair that you can believe, my +dear friend, that my heart can be drawn toward any one but yourself; +it belongs to you by right of conquest, and will be enduring and +ever-lasting. I do not understand why you speak of Madame de Te----. I +trouble myself no more about her than any other woman in Brescia. Since +it annoys you that I open your letters, the enclosed one will be the +last that I open; your letter did not reach me till after I had opened +this. + +“Farewell, my tender one; send me often your news. Break up at once and +come to me, and be happy without disquietude; all is well, and my heart +belongs to you for life. + +“Be sure to return to the Adjutant Miollis the box of medallions which, +as he writes, he has given you. There are so many babbling and bad +tongues, that it is necessary to be always on one’s guard. + +“Health, love, and speedy arrival in Brescia! + +“I have in Milan a carriage which is suited for city and country; use it +on your journey. Bring your silver and a few necessary things. Travel by +short stages, and during the cool of the morning and evening, so as not +to weary you too much. The troops need only three days to reach Brescia, +a distance of fourteen miles. I beg of you to pass the night of the 6th +in Cassano; on the 7th I will come to meet you as far as possible. + +“Farewell, my Josephine; a thousand tender kisses! + +“BONAPARTE.” + +Josephine gladly obeyed the wishes of her husband, and exactly on the +7th Thermidor (July 25) she entered Brescia. Bonaparte had ridden an +hour’s distance to meet her, and, amid the shouts of the population, he +led her in triumph into the house prepared for her reception. + +Three days were allowed to the general to enjoy his happiness and +Josephine’s presence. On the 28th of July he received the intelligence +that Wurmser was advancing, and that he was in Marmirolo. At once +Bonaparte broke up from Brescia, to meet him and offer battle. + +Brescia was no longer a dwelling-place for Josephine now that the enemy +threatened it; she therefore accompanied her husband, and the effeminate +creole, the tender Parisian, accustomed to all the comforts of life, +the lady surrounded by numerous attendants in Milan, saw herself at once +obliged, as the true wife of a soldier, to share with her husband all +the hardships, inconveniences, and dangers of a campaign. + +The news of the advance of the Austrians became more and more precise. +No sooner had Bonaparte arrived in Peschiera with his Josephine, than he +learned that Montevaldo was attacked by the enemy. In great haste they +pursued their journey; the next day they reached Verona, but Wurmser +had been equally swift in his movements, and on the heights surrounding +Verona were seen the light troops of Austria. + +Even a serious skirmish at the outposts took place, and Josephine, +against her will, had to be the witness of this horrible, cannibal +murder, which we are pleased to call war. + +Bonaparte, who had preceded his army, was forced to retreat from Verona, +and went with Josephine to Castel Nuovo, where the majority of his +troops were stationed. But it was a fearful journey, beset with dangers. +Everywhere on the road lay the dying and the wounded who had remained +behind after the different conflicts, and who with difficulty were +crawling along to meet the army. Josephine’s sensitive heart was +painfully moved by the spectacle of these sufferings and these bleeding +wounds. Napoleon noticed it on her pale cheeks and trembling lips, and +in the tears which stood in her eyes. Besides which, a great battle +was at hand, threatening her with new horrors. To guard her from them, +Bonaparte made another sacrifice to his love, and resolved to part from +her. + +She was to return to Brescia, while Napoleon, with his army, would meet +the foe. With a thousand assurances of love, and the most tender vows, +he took leave of Josephine, and she mastered herself so as to repress +her anxiety and timidity, and to appear collected and brave. With +a smile on her lip she bade him farewell, and began the journey, +accompanied by a few well-armed horsemen, whom Bonaparte, in the most +stringent terms, commanded not to leave his wife’s carriage for an +instant, and in case of attack to defend her with their lives. + +At first the journey was attended with no danger, and Josephine’s heart +began to beat with less anxiety; she already believed herself in safety. +Suddenly, from a neighboring coppice, there rushed out a division of the +enemy’s cavalry; already were distinctly heard the shouts and cries with +which they dashed toward the advancing carriage. To oppose this vast +number of assailants was not to be thought of; only the most rapid +flight could save them. + +The carriage was turned; the driver jumped upon the horses, and, in a +mad gallop, onward it sped. To the swiftness of the horses Josephine +owed her escape. She reached headquarters safely, and was received by +Bonaparte with loud demonstrations of joy at her unexpected return. + +But Josephine had not the strength to conceal the anxiety of her heart, +her fears and alarms. These horrible scenes of war, the sight of the +wounded, the dangers she had lately incurred, the fearful preparations +for fresh murders and massacres--all this troubled her mind so violently +that she lost at once all courage and composure. A nervous trembling +agitated her whole frame, and, not being able to control her agony, she +broke into loud weeping. + +Bonaparte embraced her tenderly, and as he kissed the tears from her +cheeks, he cried out, with a threatening flash in his eyes, “Wurmser +will pay dearly for the tears he has caused!” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s +words.--“Memorial de Ste. Helene,” vol. i., p. 174.] + +It was, however, a fortunate accident that the enemy’s cavalry had +hindered Josephine from reaching Brescia. A quarter of an hour after her +return to headquarters the news arrived that the Austrians had advanced +into Brescia. Meanwhile Josephine had already regained all her courage +and steadfastness; she declared herself ready to abide by her husband, +to bear with him the dangers and the fatigues of the campaign; that she +wished to be with him, as it behooved the wife of a soldier. + +But Bonaparte felt that her company would cripple his courage and +embarrass his movements. Josephine once more had to leave him, so that +the tender lover might not disturb the keen commanding general, and that +his head and not his heart might decide the necessary measures. + +He persuaded Josephine to leave him, and to retire into one of the +central cities of Italy. She acceded to his wishes, and travelled away +toward Florence. But, to reach that city, it was necessary to pass +Mantua, which the French were investing. Her road passed near the walls +of the besieged city, and one of the balls, which were whizzing around +the carriage, struck one of the soldiers of her escort and wounded +him mortally. It was a dangerous, fearful journey--war’s confusion +everywhere, wild shouts, fleeing, complaining farmers, constant cries of +distress, anxiety, and want. + +But Josephine had armed her heart with great courage and resolution; she +shrank from no danger, she overcame it all; she already had an undaunted +confidence in her husband’s destiny, and believed in the star of his +prosperity. + +And this star led her on happily through all dangers, and protected +her throughout this reckless and daring journey. Through Bologna and +Ferrara, she came at last to Lucca; there to rest a few days from her +hardships and anxieties. There, in Lucca, she was to experience the +proud satisfaction of being witness of the deep confidence which had +struck root in the heart of the Italians, in reference to the success +of the French commander-in-chief. Though it was well known that Wurmser, +with a superior force, was advancing against General Bonaparte, and +his hungry, tattered troops, and that they were on the eve of a battle +which, according to all appearances, promised to Napoleon a complete +defeat, and to the Austrians a decisive victory, the town of Lucca +was not afraid to give to the wife of Bonaparte a grand and public +reception. The senate of Lucca received her with all the marks of +distinction shown only to princesses; the senate came to her in official +ceremony, and brought her as a gift of honor, in costly gold flasks, the +produce of their land, the fine oil of Lucca. + +Josephine received these marks of honor with that grace and amiability +with which she won all hearts, and, with her enchanting smile, thanking +the senators, she told them, with all the confidence of a lover, that +her victorious husband would, for the magnificent hospitality thus shown +her, manifest his gratitude to the town of Lucca by the prosperity and +liberty which he was ready to conquer for Italy. + +This confidence was shortly to be justified. No sooner had Josephine +arrived in Florence, whither she had come from Lucca, than the news of +the victory of the French army, commanded by her husband, reached there +also. + +Suddenly abandoning the siege of Mantua, Bonaparte had gathered together +all his forces, and with them he dealt blow after blow upon the three +divisions of the army corps of Wurmser, until he had completely defeated +them. The battles of Lonato and Castiglione were the fresh trophies of +his fame. On the 10th of August Bonaparte made his victorious entry into +Brescia, which only twelve days before he had been suddenly obliged to +abandon with his Josephine, to whom he had then been barely reunited, +and was still luxuriating in the bliss of her presence. + +Bonaparte had fulfilled his word: he had revenged Josephine, and Wurmser +had indeed paid dearly for the tears which he had caused Josephine to +shed! + +But after these days of storm and danger, the two lovers were to enjoy a +few weeks of mutual happiness and of splendid triumphs. + +Josephine had returned from Florence to Milan, and thither Bonaparte +came also in the middle of August, to rest in her arms after his battles +and victories. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE IN MILAN. + + +The days of armistice which Bonaparte passed in Milan were accompanied +by festivities, enjoyments, and triumphs of all kinds. All Milan and +Lombardy streamed forth to present their homage to the deliverer of +Italy and to his charming, gracious wife; to give feasts in their +honor, to praise them in enthusiastic songs, to celebrate their fame in +concerts, serenades, and illuminations. + +The palace Serbelloni served Italy’s deliverer once more as a residence, +and it was well calculated for this on account of its vastness and +elegance. This was one of the most beautiful buildings among the palaces +of Milan. Over its massive lower structure, and its rez-de chaussee of +red granite, sparkling in the sun with its play of many colors, arose +bold and steep its light and graceful facade. The interior of this +beautiful palace of the Dukes of Serbelloni was adorned with all the +splendors which sculpture and painting gathered into the palaces of the +Italian nobility. + +In those halls, whose roofs were richly decorated and gilded, and +supported by white columns of marble, and whose walls were covered with +those splendid and enormous mirrors which the republic of Venice alone +then manufactured; and from whose tall windows hung down in long, heavy +folds curtains of purple velvet, embroidered with gold, the work of the +famous artisans of Milan--in those brilliant halls the happy couple, +Bonaparte and Josephine, received the deputies of applauding Italy and +the high aristocracy of all Lombardy. + +An eye-witness thus describes a reception-evening in the Serbelloni +palace: “The hall in which the general received his visitors was a long +gallery divided by marble columns into three smaller rooms; the two +extreme divisions formed two large drawing-rooms, perfectly square, and +the middle partition formed a long and wide promenade apartment. In the +drawing-room, into which I entered, was Madame Bonaparte, the beautiful +Madame Visconti, Madame Leopold Berthier, and Madame Ivan. Under the +arches, at the entrance of the middle room, stood the general; +around him, but at a distance, the chiefs of the war department, +the magistrates of the city, with a few ministers of the Italian +governments, all in respectful attitude before him. Nothing seemed to be +more striking than the bearing of this little man among the dignitaries +overawed by his character. His attitude had nothing of pride, but it had +the dignity of a man conscious of his worth, and who feels that he is in +the right place. Bonaparte tried not to increase his stature, so as to +be on the same level with those around him; they already spared him that +trouble, and bowed to him. None of those who conversed with him appeared +taller than he. Berthier, Silmaine, Clarke, Augerean, awaited silently +till he should address them, an honor which this evening was not +conferred upon all. Never were headquarters so much like a court: they +were the prelude to the Tuileries.” [Footnote: Arnold, “Souvenirs d’un +Sexagenaire,” vol. iii., p. 10.] + +To Milan came the ambassadors of princes, of the free cities, and of +the Italian republics. They all claimed Bonaparte’s assistance and +protection; they came bearers of good-will, of utterances of hope and +fear, and expecting from him help and succor. The princes trembled for +their thrones; the cities and republics for their independence; they +wanted to conciliate by their submission the general whose sword could +either threaten them all or give them ample protection. Bonaparte +received this homage with the composure of a protector, and sometimes +also with the proud reserve of a conqueror. + +He granted to the Duke of Parma the protection which he had sought, and +permitted him to remain on his territory as prince and ruler, though the +strongest expostulations had been made to Bonaparte on that point. + +“He is a Bourbon,” they said; “he must no longer rule.” + +“He is an unfortunate man,” replied Bonaparte, proudly; “it is not worth +while to attack him. If we leave him on his lands, he will rule only in +our name; if we drive him away, he will be weaving intrigues everywhere. +Let him remain where he is, I wish him no wrong; his presence can be +useful, his absence would surely he hurtful.” + +“But he is a Bourbon, citizen general, a Bourbon!” exclaimed Augereau, +with animation. + +Bonaparte’s countenance darkened, and his brow was overspread with +frowns. “Well, then,” cried he, with threatening tone, “he is a Bourbon! +Is he therefore by nature of so despicable a family? Because three +Bourbons have been killed in France, must we therefore hunt down all the +others? I cannot approve of proscriptions which thus fall upon a whole +family, a whole class of people. An absurd law has prohibited all the +nobles from serving the republic, and yet Barras is in the Directory, +and I am at the head of the army in Italy. We are consequently liable +to punishment in virtue of your absurd and cruel system! Hunt down those +who do wrong, but not masses who are innocent. Can you punish Paris +and France for the crimes of the sans-culottes? The Bourbons are, it is +said, the enemies of freedom; they have been led to the scaffold under +the action of a right which I do not acknowledge. The Duke of Parma is +weak, and a poltroon,--he will not stir. His people seem to love him, +for we are here, and they rise not, they utter no complaint. Let him, +then, continue to rule as long as he pays all that I exact from him.” + [Footnote: Napoleon’s words.--See Hazlitt, “Histoire de Napoleon,” vol. +v., p. 1.] + +Thanks to the good-will and protection of the republican general, the +Duke of Parma remained on his little throne--on the same throne which +was one day to be to Napoleon’s second wife a compensation for her lost +imperial crown. The Empress of France was to become a Duchess of Parma; +and now to her husband, the present general of the republic, the actual +Duke of Parma was indebted that his little dukedom was not converted +into a republic. + +It is true that the duke had to pay dearly for the protection which +Bonaparte granted. He had to pay a war-subsidy of two million francs, +and, besides, give from his collection his most beautiful painting, +that of St. Jerome by Correggio, for the Museum of the Louvre in Paris. +[Footnote: This splendid picture is now in the Vatican at Rome.] The +duke, as a lover of art, was more distressed at the loss of this picture +than at the enormous contribution he had to pay; for he soon caused the +proposition to be made to General Bonaparte, to redeem from the French +government that painting, for the sum of two hundred thousand francs, a +proposition which Bonaparte, without any further consultation with the +authorities in Paris, rejected with some degree of irritation. + +The Duke of Parma remained therefore the sovereign of his duchy, because +it so pleased Bonaparte; but Bonaparte was led into error when he +thought that, as his people rebelled not, they therefore loved their +duke, and were satisfied with him. The women and the priests controlled +entirely the feeble duke; and not only the people, but the better +classes and the aristocracy, submitted to all this with great +unwillingness. Once, when Joseph Bonaparte, whom the French republic had +sent to give assurance of protection and recognition to the little Duke +of Parma, was walking with a few cavaliers in the gardens around the +duke’s palace in Colorno, he expressed his admiration at the symmetry +and beauty of the buildings. + +“That is true,” was the answer, “but just look at the buildings of the +neighboring cloister! do you not see how superior that dwelling is +to that of the sovereign? Wretched is the country where this can take +place!” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 65.] + +Even the representatives of the republic of Venice came to Bonaparte. +They came not only to secure his friendship, but also to complain that +the French army, in its advance upon Brescia, had done injury to the +neutral territory of Venice. + +Bonaparte directed at them a look of imperious severity, and, instead +of laying stress on their neutrality, he asked in a sharp tone, “Are you +for us, or against us?” + +“Signor, we are neutral, and--” + +“Do not be neutral,” interrupted Bonaparte, with vehemence, “be strong, +otherwise your friendship is useful to none.” + +And, with imperious tone, he reproached them for the vacillating, +perfidious conduct which, since 1792, had been the policy of Venice, +and he threatened to punish and destroy that republic if she did not +immediately prove herself to be the loyal friend of the French. + +While Bonaparte used the few short weeks of rest to bring Italy more and +more under the yoke of France, it was Josephine’s privilege to draw to +herself and toward her husband the minds of the Italians, to win their +hearts to her husband, and through him to the French republic, which +he represented. She did this with all the grace and affability, all +the genial tact and large-heartedness of a noble heart, which were the +attributes of her beautiful and amiable person. She was unwearied +in well-doing, in listening to all the petitions with which she was +approached; she had for every complaint and every request an open ear; +she not only promised to every applicant her intercession, but she made +him presents, and was ever ready, by solicitations, flatteries, and +expostulations, and, if necessary, even with tears, to entreat from her +husband a mitigation of the punishment and sentence which he had decided +upon in his just severity; and seldom had Bonaparte the courage to +oppose her wishes. These were for Josephine glorious days of love and +triumph. She depicts them herself in a letter to her aunt in plain, +short words. + +“The Duke de Serbelloni,” writes she, “will tell you, my dear aunt, how +I have been received in Italy; how, wherever I passed, they celebrated +my arrival; how all the Italian princes, even the Duke of Tuscany, the +emperor’s brother, gave festivities in my honor. Well, then, I would +prefer to live as a plain citizeness of France. I like not the honorable +distinctions of this country. They weary me. It is true, my health +inclines me to be sad. I often feel very ill. If fate would bring me +good health, then I should be entirely happy. I possess the most amiable +husband that can be found. I have no occasion to desire anything. My +wishes are his. The whole day he is worshipping me as if I were a +deity; it is impossible to find a better husband. He writes often to +my children--he loves them much. He sent to Hortense, through M. +Serbelloni, a beautiful enamelled repeating watch, ornamented with fine +pearls; to Eugene he sent also a fine gold watch.” [Footnote: Aubenas, +“Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 349.] + +But soon these days of quietness and happiness were to be broken; +the armistice was drawing to a close, when, with redoubled energy, +Bonaparte, who had received from the government the wished-for +re-enforcements, longed to resume the war with Austria, which on her +side had sent another army into Italy, under General Alvinzi, to relieve +Mantua, and to deliver Wurmser from his peril. + +On the 13th of August Bonaparte left Milan and returned to Brescia, +where he established his headquarters, and where, with all the speed and +restlessness of a warrior longing for victory, he made his preparations +for the coming conflict. + +But amid the anxieties, the cares, the chances of this new campaign, +his heart remained behind in Milan with his Josephine; when the +general began to rest, the lover began to breathe. No sooner were +the battle-plans, the fight, the preparations and the dispositions +accomplished, than all his thoughts returned to Josephine, and he had +again recourse to his written correspondence with his adored wife; for +although he longed so much to have her with him, yet he was unwilling to +occasion her so much inconvenience and so many privations. + +Bonaparte’s letters are again way-marks during his glorious path of +victory and triumph, while he was over-running Italy with wondrous +rapidity--but, instead of relating these conquests, we turn to his +letters to Josephine. Already, on his way to Brescia, he had written her +several times. The very day after reaching there, after having made the +necessary military arrangements, Bonaparte wrote to her: + +“BRESCIA, the 14th Fructidor, Year IV. (August 31, 1795). + +“I am leaving for Verona. I have hoped in vain to receive a letter from +you; this makes me wretched and restless. At the time of my departure, +you were somewhat suffering; I pray you, do not leave me in such a state +of disquietude. You had promised me a greater punctuality; your tongue, +then, chimed in with your heart...; you, whom Nature has gifted with a +sweet disposition, with joyousness, and every thing which is agreeable, +how can you forget him who loves you so warmly? Three days without +a letter from you! I have during that time written to you several. +Separation is horrible; the nights are long, tiresome, and insipid; the +days are monotonous.” + +“To-day, alone with thoughts, works, men, and their destructive schemes, +I have not received from you a single note that I can press to my +heart.” + +“Headquarters are broken up; I leave in one hour. I have this night +received expresses from Paris; there was nothing for you but the +enclosed letter, which will afford you some pleasure.” + +“Think on me; live for me; be often with your beloved, and believe that +there is for him but one sorrow; that he shrinks only from this--to be +no more loved by his Josephine. A thousand right sweet kisses, right +tender, right exclusive kisses.” + +“BONAPARTE.” + +Three days after he tells her that he is now in the midst of war +operations; that hostilities have begun again, and that he hopes in a +few days to advance upon Trieste. But this occupied his mind less than +his solicitude for Josephine. After a short paragraph on his military +affairs, he continues: + +“No letter from you yet; I am really anxious; but I am assured that you +are well, and that you have made an excursion on the Como Lake. Every +day I wait impatiently for the courier who is to bring me news from you; +you know how precious this is to me. I live no longer when away from +you; the joy of my life is to be near my sweet Josephine. Think of me; +write often, very often; this is the only remedy for separation; it is +cruel, but I trust it will soon be over.” + +“BONAPARTE.” + +Meanwhile this separation was to last longer than Bonaparte had +imagined. War held him entangled in its web so fast, that he had not +time even to write to Josephine. In the next two letters he could only +tell her, in a few lines, what had happened at the theatre of war; that +he had again defeated Wurmser, and had surrounded him, and that he +hopes to take Mantua. Even for his constant complaint about Josephine’s +slothfullness in writing, he finds no room in these short letters. In +the next letter, however, it appears the more violently. He has no +time to give her, as was his usual practice, any account of the war. +He begins at once with the main object, which is--“Josephine has not +written:” + +“VERONA, 1st day of Complementaires in Year V,” “(September 17, 1796). + +“I write to you often, my beloved one, but you write seldom to me. You +are wicked and hateful, very hateful--as hateful as you are inconstant. +It is indeed faithlessness to deceive a wretched man, a tender lover! +Must he lose his rights because he is away, burdened with hardship and +labor? Without his Josephine, without the certainty of her love, what is +there on earth for him? What would he do here? + +“We had yesterday a very bloody affair; the enemy has lost many men, and +is well beaten. We have taken his advanced works before Mantua. + +“Farewell, adored Josephine! One of these nights the doors will open +with a loud crash: as a jealous man, I am in your arms! + +“A thousand dear kisses! BONAPARTE.” + +But the doors were not to be opened on any of the following nights for +the jealous one! The events of war were to keep him away a long time +from his Josephine. The Austrian Generals Wurmser and Alvinzi, with +their two armies, demanded all the energy and activity of Bonaparte. +Meanwhile, as he was preparing for the great battles which were to +decide the fate of Italy, his thoughts were always turned to his +Josephine; his deep longings grew day by day, still he had no longer +cause to complain that Josephine did not write, that she had forgotten +him! Contrariwise, Josephine did write; she had, while he was writing +her angry letters about her silence, written several times, for +Bonaparte in the following letter says that he has received many +letters from her, which, probably on account of the difficulties of +communication, had been delayed. He had received them with the highest +delight, and pressed them to his lips and heart. But no sooner had he +rejoiced over them, than he complains that they are cold, reserved, and +old. No word, no expression, satisfies his ardent love. He complains +that her letters are cold, and then, when she dips her pen in the fire +of tender love, he complains again that her glowing letters “turn +his blood into fire, and stir up his whole being.” Love, with all its +wantonness and all its pains, holds him captive in its hands, and the +general has no means of appeasing the lover. + +The letter which complains of Josephine’s coldness is dated + +“MODENA, 26th Vendemiaire of the Year V.” (October 17, 1796), + +“I was yesterday the whole day on the field. To-day I have kept my bed. +Fever and a violent headache have debarred me from writing to my adored +one; but I have received her letters, I pressed them to my lips and +to my heart, and the anguish of a separation of hundreds of miles +disappeared. At this moment I see you at my side, neither capricious +nor angry, but soft, tender, and wrapped in that goodness which is +exclusively the attribute of my Josephine. It was a dream--judge if +it could drive the fever away. Your letters are as cold as if you were +fifty years old; they seem to have been composed after a marriage of +fifteen years. One can see in them the friendship and sentiments of +the winter of life. Pshaw! Josephine, ... that is very naughty, very +abominable, very treasonable on your part. What more remains to make +me worthy of pity? All is already done! To love me no more! To hate +me! Well, then, let it be so! Every thing humiliates but hatred, +and indifference with its marmoreal pulse, its staring eyes, and its +measured steps. A thousand thousand kisses as tender as my heart! I +am somewhat better. I leave to-morrow. The English are cruising on the +Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. Good news for France and for the army. + +“BONAPARTE.” + +Bonaparte had gone to wage the last decisive battle. He writes to her +from Verona a few lines that he has arrived there, and that he is just +going to mount his horse to pursue the march. In this letter, however, +he does not tell Josephine that General Vaubois, with his fugitive +regiments, has been beaten by the Tyrolese, and that, driven from their +mountains, he has arrived in Verona; that Alvinzi occupies the Tyrol and +has pushed on to Brenta and to Etsch. Bonaparte was gathering his troops +to drive away General Alvinzi, who had occupied the heights of Caldiero, +from these important positions, and to take possession of them by main +force. A violent and desperate struggle ensued, and the day ended with +victory on the side of the Austrians. Bonaparte had to return to Verona; +Alvinzi maintained himself on the heights. + +To the irritated general, disappointed in his plans and humiliated, his +love becomes his “bete de souffrance,” upon which he takes vengeance +for the defeat of Caldiero. Josephine has to endure the flaming wrath of +Bonaparte, in whom now general and lover are fused into one; but in his +expressions of anger the general has no complaints--it is the lover who +murmurs, who reprimands, and is irritated. + +On the evening of the 12th November, the day of the defeat of Caldiero, +Bonaparte returned to Verona. The next day he wrote to Josephine: + +“VERONA, the 3d Frimaire, Year V.” (November 13, 1796) + +“I love you no more; on the contrary, I hate you. You are a wicked +creature, very inconsistent, very stupid, very silly. You do not write +to me. You do not love your husband. You know how much pleasure your +letters would afford, and you do not write to him even six lines, which +you can readily scribble out.” + +“How, then, do you begin the day, madame? What important occupation +takes away your time from writing to your very excellent lover? What new +inclination chokes and thrusts aside the tender, abiding love which you +have promised him? What can this wonderful, this new love be, which lays +claim to all your time, and rules over your days, and hinders you from +occupying yourself with your husband? Josephine, be on your guard; on +some evil night the doors will be burst open and I shall stand before +you!” + +“In truth, I am restless, my dear one, because I receive no news from +you. Write me at once four pages about those things, which fill my heart +with emotion and pleasure. + +“I trust soon to fold you in my arms, and then I will overwhelm you with +a million of kisses burning like the equator.” + +“BONAPARTE.” + +Whilst Bonaparte was pursuing and engaging with Wurmser and Alvinzi in +bloody hostilities, and writing to Josephine tender and angry letters +of a lover ever jealous, ever dissatisfied and envious, Josephine was +leading in Milan a life full of pleasure and amusement, full of splendor +and triumphs, of receptions and festivities. Every new victory, every +onward movement, was for the inhabitants of Milan, and her proud and +rich nobles, a fresh and welcome occasion to celebrate and glorify the +wife of General Bonaparte, and, through her, the hero who was to take +away from their necks the yoke of the Austrian, and who suspected not +that he was so soon to place upon them another yoke. + +Josephine, true to the wishes and commands of Bonaparte, accepted these +festivities and this homage with all the affability and grace which +distinguished her. She had by degrees become familiar with this +ceaseless homage, which at first seemed so wearisome; by degrees she +took delight in this life of pleasure, in the incense of adulation, and +the brilliancies of fame. All the indolence, the dreamy carelessness, +the graceful abandonment of the creole had been again awakened in her. +She cradled herself playfully on the lulling, bright waves of pleasure +as an insect with golden wings, and she smiled complacently at the +stream of encircling festivities. + +Bonaparte had told her to use all the arts of a woman to bind the +Milanese and the Lombards to herself and to her husband. With her smiles +she was to continue the conquest begun by Bonaparte’s sword. + +She could not, therefore, live alone in quiet solitude; she could not +remain in obscurity while her husband was performing his part on the +theatre of war; she could not, by an appearance of gravity, or by a +clouded brow, furnish occasion to the suspicion that there existed doubt +in the future success of her husband, or in his prosperity and victory. + +Roses were to crown her brow--a cheerful smile was to beam on her +countenance; with joyous spirit, she was to take part in the festivities +and pleasures--that the Milanese might see with what earnest confidence +she believed in Napoleon’s star! But Bonaparte, with all the instinct of +a genuine lover, had read the deepest secret of her soul; he was envious +and jealous, because he felt that Josephine did not belong to him with +her whole heart, her whole being, all her emotions and thoughts. Her +heart, which had received from the past so many scars and wounds, +could not yet have blossomed anew; it had been warmed by the glow of +Bonaparte’s love, but it was not yet thoroughly penetrated with that +passion which Bonaparte so painfully missed, so intensely craved. + +The earnest, unfettered nature of his love intimidated her, while it +ravished and flattered her vanity; but her heart was not entirely his, +it had yet room for her children, for her friends, for the things of +this world! + +Josephine loved Bonaparte with that soft, modest, and retiring +affection, which only by degrees--by the storms of anguish, jealousy, +agony, and the possibility of losing him--was to be fanned into that +vitality and glow which never cooled again in her heart, and which at +last gave her the death-stroke. + +She therefore thought she was fulfilling her task when she, while +Bonaparte was fighting with weapons, conquered with smiles, and received +the homage of the conquered only as a tribute which they brought through +her to the warlike genius of her husband. + +Meanwhile Bonaparte had taken vengeance for his defeat at Caldiero. +Through a ruse of war, he had decoyed Alvinzi from his safe and +impregnable position into one where he could meet him with his army +anxious for the fray, and give him battle. + +The gigantic struggle lasted three days--and the close of the third day +brought to the conqueror, Bonaparte, the laurel-wreath of undying glory, +which, more enduring and dazzling than an imperial crown, surrounded +with a halo the hero’s brow long after that crown had fallen from it. + +This was the victory of Arcola, which Bonaparte himself decided by +snatching from the flag-bearer the standard of the retreating regiment, +and rushing with it, through a shower of balls, over the bridge of death +and destruction, and, with a voice heard above the thundering cannon, +shouting jubilant to his soldiers--“En avant, mes amis!” And bravely the +soldiers followed him--a brilliant victory was the result. + +Elevated by this deed, the grandest and most glorious of his heroic +career, Napoleon returned to Verona on the 19th November. The whole +city--all Lombardy--sang to his praise their inspired hymns, and greeted +with enthusiasm the conqueror of Arcola. He, however, wanted a sweeter +reward; and after obtaining a second victory, on the 23d of November, +by defeating Wurmser near Mantua, he longed to rest and enjoy an hour’s +happiness in the arms of his Josephine. + +From Verona he wrote to her on the day after the battle of Mantua, on +the 24th of November: + +“I hope soon to be in your arms, my beloved one; I love you to madness! +I write by this courier for Paris. All is well. Wurmser was defeated +yesterday under Mantua. Your husband needs nothing but the love of his +Josephine to be happy. BONAPARTE.” + +But the most terrible doubts hung yet over this love. The letter in +which Napoleon announced his coming had not reached Josephine; and, as +the next day he came to Milan with all the cravings and impatience of a +lover, he did not find Josephine there. + +She had not suspected his coming; she had not dreamed that the +commanding officer could stop in his victorious course and give way to +the lover. She thought him far away; and, ever faithful to Bonaparte’s +direction to assist him in the conquest of Italy, she had accepted an +invitation from the city of Genoa, which had lately and gladly entered +into alliance with France. The most brilliant festivities welcomed her +in this city of wealth and palaces, and “Genova la superba” gathered +all its magnificence, all the splendor of its glory, to offer, under the +eyes of all Europe, her solemn homage to the wife of the celebrated hero +of Arcola. + +While Josephine, with joyous pride was receiving this homage, Bonaparte, +gloomy and murmuring, sat in his cabinet at Milan, and wrote to her: + +“MILAN, the 7th Frimaire, Year V.,” Three o’clock. afternoon (November +27, 1796). + +“I have just arrived in Milan, and rush to your apartments. I have left +every thing to see you, to press you in my arms; .... you are not there! +You are pursuing a circle of festivities through the cities. You go away +from me at my approach; you trouble yourself no more about your dear +Napoleon. A spleen has made you love him; inconstancy renders you +indifferent. + +“Accustomed to dangers, I know a remedy against ennui and the troubles +of life. The wretchedness I endure is not to be measured; I am entitled +not to expect it. + +“I will wait here until the 9th. Do not trouble yourself. Pursue your +pleasures; happiness is made for you. The whole world is too happy when +it can please you, and your husband alone is very, very unhappy. + +“BONAPARTE.” + +But this cry of anguish from this crushed heart did not reach Josephine; +and the courier, who next day came to Milan from Genoa, brought +from Josephine only a letter with numerous commissions for Berthier. +Bonaparte’s anger and sorrow knew no bounds, and he at once writes to +her with all the utterances of despair and complaint of a lover, and the +proud wrath of an injured husband: + +“MILAN, the 8th Frimaire, Year V., eight o’clock, evening. + +“The courier whom Berthier had sent to Milan has just arrived. You have +had no time to write to me; that I can understand very well. In the +midst of pleasures and amusements it would have been too much for you to +make the smallest sacrifice for me. Berthier has shown me the letter you +wrote to him. It is not my purpose to trouble you in your arrangements +or in the festivities which you are enjoying; I am not worth the +trouble; the happiness or the misery of a man you love no longer has not +the right to interest you. + +“As regards myself, to love you and you alone, to make you happy, to do +nothing that can wrong you in any way, is the desire and object of my +life. + +“Be happy, have nothing to reproach me, trouble not yourself about the +felicity of a man who only breathes in your life, who finds enjoyment +only in your happiness. When I claim from you a love which would +approach mine, I am wrong: how can one expect that a cobweb should weigh +as much as gold? When I sacrifice to you all my wishes, all my thoughts, +all the moments of my life, I merely obey the spell which your charms, +your character, your whole person, exercise over my wretched heart. I +am wrong, for Nature has not endowed me with the power of binding you +to me; but I deserve from Josephine in return at least consideration and +esteem, for I love her unto madness, and love her exclusively. + +“Farewell, adorable wife! farewell, my Josephine! May fate pour into my +heart every trouble and every sorrow; but may it send to my Josephine +serene and happy days! Who deserves it more than she? When it is well +understood that she loves me no more, I will garner up into my heart my +deep anguish, and be content to be in many things at least useful and +good to her. + +“I open this letter once more to send you a kiss.... ah! Josephine. ... +Josephine! BONAPARTE.” + +Meanwhile it was not yet well understood that Josephine loved him no +more; for as soon as she knew of Bonaparte’s presence in Milan, she +hastened to dispatch him a courier, and to apprise him of her sudden +departure. + +Bonaparte did not leave Milan on the 9th; he remained there, waiting for +Josephine, to lift her up in his arms from her carriage, and to bear +her into her apartments; to enjoy with her a few happy days of a quiet, +domestic, and mutual love, all to themselves. + +His presence with the army, however, soon became a matter of necessity; +for Alvinzi was advancing with considerable re-enforcements, with two +army corps to the relief of Mantua, and Bonaparte, notwithstanding +his pressing remonstrances to the Directory, having received but few +re-enforcements and very little money, had to exert all his powers and +energy to press a few advantages from the superior forces of the enemy. +Everywhere his presence and personal action were needed; and, constantly +busy with war, ever sword in hand, he could not, for long weeks, even +once take pen IN HAND and write to his Josephine. His longings had to +subside before the force of circumstances, which claimed the general’s +whole time. + +On the 3d of February, 1797, he again finds time to send her a few +lines, to say that he is breaking up and going to Rimini. Then, after +Alvinzi had been again defeated, after the fortress of Mantua had +capitulated, Bonaparte had to break up again and go to Rome, to require +from the pope the reason why he had made common cause with Austria, and +shown himself the enemy of the French republic. In Bologna he lingered a +few days, as Josephine, in compliance with his wishes, had come there to +make amends by her presence for so long a separation. + +She remained in Bologna, while Bonaparte advanced toward the city of +the Church. But the gloomy quietude, the constant rumors of war, the +threatening dangers, the intrigues with which she was surrounded, the +hostile exertions of the priests, the want of society, of friendly +faces, every thing had a tendency to make Josephine’s residence in +Bologna very disagreeable, and to bring on sadness and nervousness. + +In this gloomy state of mind she writes to Bonaparte that she feels +sick, exhausted and helpless; that she is anxious to return to Paris. He +answers her from Ancona: + +“The 8th Pluviose, Year V. (February 16, 1797). + +“You are sad, you are sick, you write to me no longer, you wish to +return to Paris! Do you no longer love your friend? This thought makes +me very unhappy. My dear friend, life is intolerable to me, since I have +heard of your sadness. + +“I send you at once Moscati to take care of you. My health is somewhat +feeble; my cold hangs on. I pray you spare yourself, and love me as much +as I love you, and do write every day. My restlessness is horrible. + +“I have given orders to Moscati to accompany you to Ancona, if you will +come. I will write to you and let you know where I am. + +“I may perhaps make peace with the pope, and then will soon be with you; +it is the most intense desire of my life. + +“I send a hundred kisses. Think not that any thing can equal my love, +unless it be my solicitude for you. Write to me every day yourself, my +dearly-beloved one! + +“BONAPARTE.” + +But Josephine, in her depressed state of mind, and her nervous +irritability, did not have the courage to draw nearer the scenes of war, +and she dreaded to face again such dangers as once she had encountered +in Brescia and on her journey to Florence. She had not been able to +overcome the indolence of the Creole so much as to write to Bonaparte. +Fully conscious of his love and pardon, she relied upon them when, in +her reluctance to every exertion, she announced to him, through the +physician Moscati, that she would not come to Ancona, but would wait for +him in Bologna. + +This news made a very painful impression upon Bonaparte, and filled him +with sorrow, though it reached him on a day in which he had obtained +a new triumph, a spiritual victory without any shedding of blood. The +pope, frightened at the army detachments approaching Rome, as well as at +the menacing language of the victor of Arcola, signed a peace with the +French republic, and with the general whose sword had bowed into the +dust all the princes of Italy, and freed all the population from their +duties as subjects. Bonaparte announced this to Josephine, and it is +evident how important it was to him that this news should precede even +his love-murmurings and reproaches. His letter was dated + +“TOLONTINO, the 1st Ventose, Year V. (February 19,1797). + +“Peace with Rome is signed. Bologna, Ferrara, Romagna fall into the +hands of the French republic. The pope has to pay us in a short time +thirty millions, and gives us many precious objects of art. + +“I leave to-morrow for Ancona, and then for Rimini, Ravenna, and +Bologna. If your health permits, come over to meet me in Ravenna, but, I +implore you, spare yourself. + +“Not a word from your hand! What have I done? To think only of you, +to love but you, to live but for my wife, to enjoy only my beloved’s +happiness, does this deserve such a cruel treatment from her? My friend, +I implore you, think of me, and write to me every day. Either you are +sick, or you love me no longer. Do you imagine, then, that my heart is +of marble? Why do you have so little sympathy with my sorrow? You must +have a very poor idea of me! That I cannot believe. You, to whom Nature +has imparted so much understanding, so much amiability, and so much +beauty, you, who alone can rule in my heart, you know, without doubt, +what power you have over me! + +“Write to me, think of me, and love me. + +“Yours entirely, yours for life, + +“BONAPARTE.” + +This is the last letter of Bonaparte to Josephine during his first +Italian campaign--the last at least in the series of letters which +Queen Hortense has made public, as the most beautiful and most glorious +monument to her mother. [Footnote: “Lettres de Napoleon a Josephine et +de Josephine a Napoleon et a sa fille. Londres et Leipzic, 1833.”] + +We have dwelt upon them because these letters, like sunbeams, throw a +bright light on the new pathway of Josephine’s life--because they are an +eloquent and splendid testimony to the love which Josephine had inspired +in her young husband, and also to her amiableness, to her sweetness of +disposition, to her grace, and to all the noble and charming qualities +which procured her so much admiration and affection, and which still +caused her to be loved, sought for and celebrated, when she had to +descend from the height of a throne, and became the deserted, divorced +wife of the man who loved her immeasurably, and who so often had sworn +to her that this love would only end with his life! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. + + +On the 18th of April were finally signed, in Leoben, the preliminaries +of peace between Austria and France, and which finally put an end to +this cruel war. Austria was compelled to acknowledge herself defeated, +for even the Archduke Charles, who had pushed forward from the Rhine +with his army to oppose the conqueror of Wurmser and of Alvinzi, had not +been able to arrest Bonaparte in his victorious career. + +Bonaparte had publicly declared he would march toward Vienna, and +dictate to the Emperor of Germany, in his very palace, terms of peace. +He was at the point of carrying into execution this bold plan. Since the +battle of Tagliamento, on the 16th of March, the army of the archduke +was broken, and he could no longer prevent Bonaparte from marching with +his army over Laybach and Trieste into Germany. On the 25th of March, +Bonaparte entered into Klagenfurt; and now that he was but forty miles +from the capital, the Austrian court began to tremble at the approach +of this army of sans-culottes who, under the leadership of General +Bonaparte, had been transformed into heroes. She therefore accepted +the propositions of peace made by Bonaparte, and, as already said, its +preliminaries were signed in Leoben. + +Now Bonaparte could rest after such constant and bloody work, now he +could again hasten to his Josephine, who was waiting for him in the +palace of Serbelloni. The whole city--all Lombardy--was with her, awaiting him. His journey +from Leoben to Milan was a continuous triumph, which, however, reached +its culminating point at his entrance into the city. Milan had adorned +herself for this day as a bride to receive her hero. From every balcony +waved the united French and Italian standards, costly tapestries +were hanging down, every window was occupied by beautiful women +gayly attired, and who, with large bouquets of flowers and waving +handkerchiefs, greeted the conqueror. All the dignitaries of the city +went to meet him in processional pomp; from every tower sounded the +welcome chimes, and the compact masses of the people in the streets and +on the roofs of the houses filled the air with the jubilant shout: “Long +live the deliverer of Italy! the conqueror of Austria!” + +Josephine, surrounded by ladies of the highest aristocracy of Lombardy, +received her husband in the Palace Serbelloni. With radiant smiles, and +yet with tears in her eyes, she received him, her heart swelling with a +lofty joy at this ovation to Bonaparte; and through the glorification +of this victory he appeared to her more beautiful, more worthy of love, +than ever before. On this day of his return from so many battles +and victories her heart gave itself up with all its power, all its +unreservedness and fulness, to this wondrous man who had won so +many important battles, and who bowed before her alone with all the +submissive humility of a conquered man! From this day she loved him with +that warm, strong love which was to end only with her death. + +Josephine had good reason to be happy on this day, for it brought her +not only her husband, but also a new source of happiness, her son, her +dear Eugene. Bonaparte had sent for him from Paris, and given him a +commission of second lieutenant in the first regiment of hussars, and +had also appointed him adjutant of the commanding general of the army of +Italy, perhaps as much to give to Josephine a new proof of his affection +as to attach Eugene to his person, for whom he felt the love of a +father. + +Near the returned general, Josephine, to her supreme delight, saw her +dear son, from whom she had been separated so long; and Eugene, whom she +had left in Paris a mere boy, presented himself to her in Milan, in his +officer’s uniform, as a youth, with countenance beaming with joy and +eyes full of lustre, ready to enter upon fame’s pathway, on which his +step-father, so brilliant a model, was walking before him. The maternal +heart of Josephine felt both love and pride at the sight of this young +man, so remarkable for his healthy appearance, and his youthful vigor +and genius, and she thanked Bonaparte with redoubled love for the joyous +surprise which his considerate affection had prepared for her. + +Now began for Josephine and Bonaparte happy days, illumined by all the +splendor of festivities, of fealty exhibited, of triumphs realized. +After lingering a few days in Milan, Bonaparte, with his wife, the +whole train of his friends, his adjutants and servants, removed to the +pleasure-castle of Montebello, near Milan. + +Here, amid rich natural scenery, in this large, imposing castle, which, +built on the summit of a hill, mantled with olive-groves and vineyards, +afforded on all sides a view of the surrounding, smiling plains of +Lombardy--here Bonaparte wished to rest from the hardships and dangers +of his last campaign; here, he wished to organize the great Italian +republic which was then the object of his exertions, and whose iron +crown he afterward coveted to place on his head. At Montebello he wished +to enact new laws for Italy, create new institutious, reduce to silence, +with threatening voice, the opposition of those who dared to oppose to +the new law of liberty the old centennial rights of possession and of +citizenship. + +Italy was to be free, such was the will of her deliverer; and he took +great care not to let any one suspect or read the secret thoughts +which he kept hid behind the pompous proclamations of his authority. He +therefore answered evasively and vaguely those who came to fathom his +designs, and to become acquainted with his plans. + +The Grand-duke of Tuscany sent to Montebello for this purpose, the +Marquis Manfredini. He was instructed to ask General Bonaparte if it was +his intention to destroy the grand-duchy of Tuscany, and to incorporate +its territory into the great Italian republic. The marquis implored +Bonaparte with persuasive, touching accents, to tell him what his plans +were, and if he would allow Tuscany to subsist as an independent state. + +Bonaparte, smiling, shrugged his shoulders: “Signor marquis,” said he, +“you remind me of that creditor who once asked the Cardinal de Rohan +when he wished to pay him. The cardinal simply answered: ‘My dear sir, +do not be so curious.’ If your grand-duke will keep quiet, he will +suffer no injury.” + +Napoleon exhibited less friendliness and good-nature toward the republic +of Venice, which had also sent her delegates to Montebello for the +sake of reconciling the general, who had sworn vengeance against the +republic, because a sort of Sicilian Vespers had been organized there +against the French; and because, especially in Verona, and throughout +the Venetian provinces, thousands of Frenchmen had been murdered by +the revolted peasants, whom the fanatical priesthood had stirred to +sedition. + +Now, that Bonaparte had defeated the Grand-duke Charles, the hope of +the rebels, Venice humbly sent her most distinguished sons to plead for +forgiveness and indulgence, and to promise full reparation. But Napoleon +received them with contempt and threatening anger, and to their humble +petitions replied in a thundering voice, “I will be an Attila to +Venice!” + +Meanwhile the same general, who swore the ruin of Venice, showed himself +conciliating and lenient toward Rome, and instead of being an Attila, he +endeavored to be a preserver and a protector. + +The Directory in Paris was not fully satisfied with the peace which +Bonaparte had concluded with the pope. They thought Napoleon had been +too lenient with him; that he ought to have taken Rome from him, as he +tore away Milan from the Emperor of Germany. The five rulers of France +went so far as to make reproaches against Bonaparte for his leniency, +and to require from him the downfall of the pope, and with him that of +Catholicism. + +But Bonaparte had the boldness to oppose these demands of the Directory, +and to set up his will in defiance to their supreme authority. + +He wrote to the Directory: “You say with reason that the Roman religion +will long be the enemy of the republic; that is very true, but it is +equally true that, on account of the great distance you are from the +scene of events, you cannot measure the amount of difficulty there is in +carrying out your orders. + +“You wish to destroy the Catholic Church in a city where it has ruled so +many years. Believe me, it is useless to burden ourselves with fruitless +labor. We have already enough to do; to defeat our enemies on the field +of battle, it is not necessary to arouse all Europe against us--even the +heretics, through policy, would defend the cause of the Holy See. Are +you fully convinced that France would calmly look on? France needs a +religious worship: that which you propose cannot, on account of its +simplicity, replace this one. Follow my advice: let the pope be pope! +If you bury his earthly power, acknowledge at least his spiritual +authority. Force him not to seek refuge at a foreign court, where by his +mere presence it would gain an immense ascendency. Italy wants religion +and the pope. If she is wounded in her faith, she will be hostile to us, +while now she is peaceably inclined. I repeat, the present difficulties +are too weighty, to add new ones. Who can fathom the future? Who can +assume the responsibility of such a deed as the one you propose? I shall +not, therefore, do it, since you leave it with me to inform you on the +subject. I consider it dangerous to conjure up fanaticism. The Catholic +religion is that of the arts, and the arts are absolutely necessary +to Italy’s welfare. Be sure that if you destroy the former, you give a +fatal blow to the latter, and that the Italians are good accountants. +Ponder well these matters, then, and be sure that Catholicism has ceased +to exist in France. Are you well satisfied that no one there will go +back to it?” + +While in Montebello, though the sword had been laid aside, Bonaparte was +still busy with war affairs, and the quarrels of princes and nations. +Josephine at the same time passed there the honored life of a mighty +princess, whose favors and intercessions the great and the powerful of +earth endeavored to obtain by every conceivable means. The ladies of the +aristocracy of Milan were eager to pay their homage to the wife of the +deliverer; the courts of Italy, as well as other parts of Europe, sent +ambassadors to General Bonaparte; and these gentlemen were naturally +zealous in offering their incense to Josephine, in surrounding her with +courtly and flattering attentions. The Marquis de Gallo, the ambassador +of Spain at the court of Verona, came with the Austrian ambassador, the +Count von Meerfeld, to Montebello, to enter into negotiations about the +peace which was to form the precious key-stone to the preliminaries of +Leobeu; and these two gentlemen, who opposed to the plain manners of +Bonaparte’s companions-in-arms the very essence of refined, polished, +and witty courtiers, rivalled each other in showing to Josephine their +highest consideration by their festivities and amusements; to win her +favor and interest through the most complacent and considerate attention +to all her views, wishes, and plans. + +Josephine received all this homage with the enchanting and smiling +quietude of a woman who, without exaltation or pride, feels no surprise +at any flattery or homage, but kindly and thankfully accepts what is +due to her. Among this brilliant Italian aristocracy which surrounded +her--among the ambassadors of the powers who sued not so much for +alliance with France as for General Bonaparte’s favor--among the +generals and superior officers who had shared with Bonaparte the dangers +of the battle-field and the laurels of victory--among learned +men, artists, and poets, whom Bonaparte had often invited to +Montebello--among so brilliant, so wealthy, so superior, so intelligent +a society, Josephine shone as the resplendent sun around which all +these planets moved, and from which they all received life, light, and +happiness. She received the ambassadors of sovereigns with the dignity +and affability of a princess; she conversed with the most distinguished +ladies in cheerful simplicity, and with the unaffected joyousness and +harmless innocency of a young maiden; she conversed with men of learning +and artists in profound and serious tones, about their labors, their +efforts, and success; she allowed the generals to relate the momentous +events of the late great battles, and her eye shone with deeper pride +and pleasure when from the mouth of the brave she heard the enthusiastic +praise of her husband. + +Then her keen looks would be directed toward Bonaparte, who perchance +stood in a window recess, engaged in some grave, solemn conversation +with an eminent ambassador; her eyes again would glance from her husband +to her son, to this young officer of seventeen years, who now laughed, +jested, and played, as a boy, and then with respectful attention +listened to the conversation of the generals, and whose countenance +beamed with inspiration as they spoke to him of the mighty deeds of war +and the plans of battle of his step-father, whom Eugene loved with the +affection of a son, and the enthusiasm of a disciple who looks up to and +reveres his master. + +Yes, Josephine was happy in these days of Montebello. The past, with +its sad memories, its deceptions and errors, had sunk behind her, and +a luminous future sent its rays upon her at the side of the man whom +jubilant Italy proclaimed “her deliverer,” and whom Josephine’s joyous +heart acknowledged to be her hero, her beloved. For now she loved him +truly, not with that love of fifteen years past, with the marmoreal +pulse, of which Bonaparte had spoken to her in his letters, but with +all the depth and glow of which a woman’s heart is capable, with all +the passion and jealousy of which the heart of a creole alone is +susceptible. + +Happy, sunny days of Montebello! days full of love, of poetry, of +beauty, of happiness!--full of the first, genial, undisturbed, mutual +communion!--days of the first triumphs, of the first homage, of the +first dawn of a brilliant future! Never could the memory of those days +fade away from Josephine’s heart; never could the empress, in the long +series of her triumphs and rejoicings, point to an hour like one of +those she had, as the wife of the general, enjoyed at Montebello! + +Every day brought new festivities, new joys, new receptions: balls, +official banquets, select friendly dinners, came by turns; in +brilliant soirees, they received the aristocracy of Lombardy, who, with +ever-growing zeal, struggled for the honor of being received at the +court of Montebello, and to see the doors of the drawing-room of the +wife of General Bonaparte open to them. Sometimes parties were made up +for a chase, of which Berthier acted as master, and who was not a whit +behind in organizing hunting-parties in the style of those of the former +court of Versailles, where he once had acted as page. + +At times, in the warm days of May, the whole company went out together +on the large and splendid piazza which ran along the castle, on the +garden side, and which was supported by slender marble columns, and +whose roof, made of thin wire-work, was thickly shaded by the foliage of +the vine, the ivy, and the delicate leaves of the passion-flower. Here, +resting on the marble settees, one listened in blessed happiness to +the music of bands secreted in some myrtle-grove and playing military +symphonies or patriotic melodies. Then, as the evening faded away, when +the court of Montebello, as the Italians now called the residence of the +general of the republic, had no brilliant reception, they gathered in +the drawing-room, where Josephine, with all the affability of a lady +from the great world, received her guests, and with all the modesty and +grace of a simple housewife served herself the tea. + +These quiet social evenings in the little drawing-room of Josephine, +away from excitement, were among Bonaparte’s happiest moments; there, +for a few hours at least, he forgot the mighty cares and schemes which +occupied his mind, and abandoned himself to the joys of society, and +to a cheerful intercourse with his family and friends. In these quiet +evenings Josephine exerted all the art and refinement of her great +social nature to render Bonaparte cheerful and to amuse him. She +sometimes organized a party of vingtet-un, and Bonaparte with his +cards was as eager for the victory as in days past he had been with his +soldiers. Very often, when success did not favor him, and his cards were +not such as suited him, the great general would condescend to correct +fate (de corriger la fortune); and he was much delighted when in his +expertness he succeeded, and, thanks to his correction of fate, obtained +the victory over his play-mates. When the parti was ended, they went +out on the terrace to enjoy the balmy air and refreshing coolness of +the evening, and to take delight in witnessing the enchanting spectacle +afforded by the thousands of little stars with which the fire-flies +illumined the darkness of the summer night and encircled the lake as +with a coronet of emeralds. + +When they grew tired of this, they returned to the drawing-room to +listen to Josephine’s fine, full, soul-like voice singing the songs of +her island-home, or else to find amusement in the recital of fairy tales +and marvellous stories. None understood this last accomplishment better +than Bonaparte; and it required only the gracious request, the lovely +smiles of his Josephine, to convert the general into one of those +improvisatores who with their stories, more resembling a dramatic +representation than a narrative, could exalt the Italian mind into +ecstasy, and be ever sure to attract an attentive audience. + +Bonaparte understood the art of holding his audience in suspense, and +keeping them in breathless attention, quite as well as an improvisator +of the Place of St. Mark or of Toledo Street. His stories were always +full of the highest dramatic action and thrilling effect; and it was his +greatest triumph when he saw his hearers turn pale, and when Josephine, +shuddering, clung anxiously to him, as if seeking from the soldier’s +hand protection against the fearful ghosts he had evoked. + +After the marvellous stories came grave scientific conversations with +men of learning, whom Bonaparte had invited for the sake of deriving +from their intercourse both interest and instruction. Among these were +the renowned mathematicians Maria Fontana, Monge, and Berthelet; and +the famous astronomer Oriani, whom Bonaparte, through a very flattering +autographic note, had invited to Montebello. + +But Oriani, little accustomed to society and to conversation with any +one but learned men, was very reluctant to come to Montebello, and would +gladly have avoided it had he not been afraid of exciting the wrath +of the great warrior. Bonaparte, surrounded by his generals, his +staff-officers and adjutants, was in the large and splendidly-illumined +drawing-room when Oriani made his appearance. + +The savant, timid and embarrassed, remained near the door, and dared not +advance a single step farther on this brilliant floor, where the lights +of the chandeliers were reflected, and which filled the savant with more +bewilderment than the star-bespangled firmament. + +But Bonaparte’s keen eye understood at once his newly-arrived guest; he +advanced eagerly toward him, and as Oriani, stammering and embarrassed, +was endeavoring to say something, but grew silent in the midst of his +speech, the former smilingly asked: + +“What troubles you so much? You are among your friends; we honor +science, and I willingly bow to it.” + +“Ah, general,” sighed Oriani, sorrowfully, “this magnificence dazzles +me.” + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. “What!” said he, looking around with a +contemptuous glance on the mirrors and rich tapestries which adorned the +walls, and on the glittering chandeliers, the embroidered uniforms of +the generals, and the costly toilets of the ladies--“what, do you call +this magnificence? Can these miserable splendors blind the man who every +night contemplates the far more lofty and impressive glories of the +skies?” + +The savant, recalled by these warning words of Bonaparte to the +consciousness of his own dignity, soon recovered his quiet demeanor +and conversed long and gladly with the general, who never grew tired of +putting questions to him, and of gaining from him information. + +But there were also cloudy moments in Montebello, oftentimes +overshadowing the serene sunshine. They came from France--from Rome--and +there were even some which had their origin in Montebello. These clouds +which were formed in Montebello, and which caused slight showers of +tears with Josephine, and little tempests of anger with Bonaparte, were +certainly not of a very serious nature; they owed their origin to a +lapdog, and this pet dog was Fortune, the same which in days gone by had +been the letter-carrier between Josephine and her children when she +was in the Carmelite prison. Notwithstanding Fortune had become old +and peevish, Josephine and her children loved him for the sake of past +reminiscences, while Bonaparte simply hated and detested him. Bonaparte +had, however, perhaps without wishing it, erected for him an abiding +monument in the “Memorial de Ste. Helene,” where he gave a report of his +hostilities with the lapdog Fortune, along with those of his wars with +the European powers. + +“I was then,” says Bonaparte, in his “Memorial,” “the ruler of Italy, +but in my own house I had nothing to say; there Josephine’s will was +supreme. There was an ugly, growling personage, at war with everybody, +whose bad qualities made him intolerable to me and to others, yet he was +an important individual, who was by Josephine and her children flattered +from morning till evening, and who was the object of their most delicate +attentions. Fortune, to me a hateful beast, was a horrible lapdog, +with crooked legs and deformed body, without the slightest beauty or +kindness, but of a most malicious disposition. I would gladly have +killed him, and often prayed Heaven to deliver me from him. This +happiness was, however, reserved for me in Montebello. A bull-dog which +belonged to my cook became tired of his churlish incivilities, and not +having the same considerateness as the rest of the inmates of the palace +of Montebello, he attacked the detestable animal so violently as to +kill him on the spot. Then began tears and sighs in the house. Josephine +could not be comforted; Eugene wept, and I myself against my will put +on a sorrowful countenance. But I gained nothing by this fortunate +accident. After Fortune had been stuffed, sung in sonnets, and made +immortal by funeral discourses, he was replaced by two setters, male +and female. Then came the amiable displays and the bickerings of this +love-couple, and afterward their progeny. So that I knew not what to do. + +“Soon after this, as I was walking in the park, I noticed my cook, who, +as soon as he saw me, disappeared on a side-path. + +“‘Are you afraid of me?’ said I. “’ Ah, general,’ replied he, timidly, ‘you have good reason to be angry +with me.’ + +“‘I? What have you done?’ + +“‘My unfortunate dog has indeed killed poor little Fortune.’ + +“‘Where is your dog?’ + +“‘He is in the city. God have mercy on us! he dares not come here.’ + +“‘Listen, my good fellow’ (but I spoke in a low voice, for fear of being +heard), ‘let your dog run about just as he likes--perhaps he may deliver +me from the others.’ + +“But this happiness was not in reserve for me. Josephine, not satisfied +with dogs, soon after this procured a cat, which brought me into a state +of despair; for this detestable animal was the most vicious of its race. +....” [Footnote: Memorial de Ste. Helene.] + +The strifes with Fortune, with the setters, and with the cat, troubled +Bonaparte less than the intrigues which his enemies in Italy, as well +as in France, stirred up against him, and through them endeavored to +destroy him. + +In Italy it was the priests who had sworn deadly enmity to Bonaparte, +and who, with all the weapons which the arsenal of the Church, +fanaticism, and superstition, furnished them, fought against the general +who had dared to break the power of the pope, and to restrict within +narrower limits the rule of the priests. It was these priests who +continually made the most furious opposition to the ascendency which +Bonaparte had won over the Italian mind, and sought constantly to rouse +up, within the minds of the people, opposition to him. + +One day, Marmont announced that a certain Abbe Sergi was exciting the +peasants against the French, and especially against Bonaparte; that he +was preaching sedition and rebellion in Christ’s name, and was showing +to the ignorant laborers a letter, which he had received from Christ, +in which it was declared that General Bonaparte was an atheist and a +heretic, whom one ought to destroy and drive away from Italy’s sacred +soil. + +Bonaparte at once ordered Marmont to arrest this Abbe Sergi, who lived +in Poncino, and to bring him to Montebello. His orders were followed, +and, after a few days, the captive abbe was brought before the general. +He seemed cheerful, unaffected, and assumed the appearance of being +unconscious of guilt. + +“Are you the man,” exclaimed Bonaparte, “to whom Christ writes letters +from Paradise?” + +“Ah! signor general, you are joking,” replied the abbe, smiling--but +one of Bonaparte’s angry looks fell upon his broad, well-fed face, and +forced the priest into silence. + +“I am not joking,” answered Bonaparte, angrily; “you, however, +are joking with the peasants, since you are telling these poor, +superstitious men that you are in correspondence with Christ.” + +“Alas! signor general,” sighed the abbe, with contrite mien, “I wanted +to do something in the defence of our cause, and what can a poor +clergyman do?--he has no weapons--” + +“Mind that in future you procure other weapons!” interrupted Bonaparte, +vehemently. “That will be better for you than to dare use the Deity for +your schemes of wickedness. I order you to receive no more letters from +Paradise, not even from Christ. Correspond with your equals, and be on +your guard, or you will soon find that I can punish the disobedient!” + +The abbe bowed penitently, and with tears in his eyes. Bonaparte turned +his back to him, and ordered him to be taken to Poncino. + +From that day, however, much as he hated General Bonaparte, the Abbe +Sergi received no more letters from Paradise. + +Nevertheless, the letters of the Abbe Sergi were not those which gave +the most solicitude to Bonaparte; much worse were those he received from +Paris, which gave him an account of the persevering intrigues of his +enemies, and the malicious slanders that were circulated against him by +the Directory, who were envious of his power and superiority, and which +mischievous and poisonous calumnies were re-echoed in the newspapers. + +These insidious attacks of the journals, more than any thing else, +excited Bonaparte’s vehement anger. The hero who, on the battle-field, +trembled not before the balls which whizzed about his head, had a +violent dislike to those insect-stings of critics who, like wasps +humming round about the laurel-wreath on his brow, ever found between +the leaves of his fame some place where with their stings they could +wound him, and who was as sensitive as a young blameless maiden would be +against the wasp-stings of slander. + +This irritable sensitiveness led him to consider those detestable +attacks of the journals worth a threatening denunciation to the +Directory. + +“Citizen-directors,” wrote he to them, “I owe you an open confession; my +heart is depressed and filled with horror through the constant attacks +of the Parisian journals. Sold to the enemies of the republic, they +rush upon me, who am boldly defending the republic. ‘I am keeping the +plunder,’ whilst I am defeating them; ‘I affect despotism,’ whilst I +speak only as general-in-chief; ‘I assume supreme power,’ and yet I +submit to law! Every thing I do is turned to a crime against me; the +poison streams over me. + +“Were any one in Italy to dare give utterance to the one-thousandth part +of those calumnies, I would impose upon him an awful silence! + +“In Paris, this is allowed to go on unpunished, and your tolerance is an +encouragement. The Directory is thus producing the impression that it is +opposed to me. If the directors suspect me, let them say so, and I will +justify myself. If they are convinced of my uprightness, let them defend +me. + +“In this circle of argument, I include the Directory with me, and cannot +go beyond it. My desire is, to be useful to my country. Must I, for +reward, drink the cup of poison? + +“I can no longer be satisfied with empty, evasive arguments; and if +justice is not done to me, then I must take it myself. Therefore, I am +yours. Salutation and brotherly love. BONAPAKTE.” + +But all these vexations, hostilities, and calumnies, were, however, +as already said, mere clouds, which now and then obscured the bright +sunshine at the court of Montebello. At a smile or a loving word from +Josephine, they flew away rapidly, and the sunshine again in all +its splendor, the pleasures, feasts, and joys, continued in their +undisturbed course. All Italy did homage to the conqueror, and it was +therefore very natural that sculptors and painters should endeavor to +draw some advantage from this enthusiasm for its deliverer, and that +they should endeavor to represent to the admirers of Bonaparte his +peculiar form and countenance. + +But Bonaparte did not like to have his portrait painted. The staring, +watchful gaze of an artist was an annoyance to him; it made him restless +and anxious, as if he feared that the scrutinizing look at his face +might read the secrets of his soul. Yet at Josephine’s tender and +pressing request he had consented to its being taken by a young painter, +Le Gros, whose distinguished talent had been brought to his notice. + +Le Gros came therefore to Montebello, happy in the thought that he could +immortalize himself through a successful portrait of the hero whom he +honored with all the enthusiasm of a young heart. But he waited in vain +three days for Bonaparte to give him a sitting. The general had not one +instant to spare for the unfortunate young artist. + +At last, at Josephine’s pressing request, Bonaparte consented on the +fourth day to sit for him one-quarter of an hour after breakfast. Le +Gros came therefore delighted, at the time appointed, into the cabinet +of Josephine, and had his easel ready, awaiting the moment when +Bonaparte would sit in the arm-chair opposite. But, alas! the painter’s +hopes were not to be realized. The general could not bring himself to +sit in that arm-chair, doing nothing but keeping his head quiet, so +that the painter might copy his features. He had no sooner been seated, +than he sprang up suddenly, and declared it was quite impossible to +endure such martyrdom. + +Le Gros dared not repeat his request, but with tears in his eyes +gathered up his painting-materials. Josephine smiled. “I see very well,” + said she, “that I must have recourse to some extraordinary means to save +for me and for posterity a portrait of the hero of Arcola.” + +She sat down in the arm-chair, and beckoned to Le Gros to have his easel +in readiness. Then with a tender voice she called Napoleon to her, and +opening both arms she drew him down on her lap, and in this way she +induced him to sit down quietly a few moments and allow the painter the +sight of his face, thus enabling him to sketch the portrait. [Footnote: +“Memoires et Souvenirs du Comte Lavalette,” vol. i., p. 168.] + +At the end of this peculiar sitting, Bonaparte smilingly promised that +he would next day grant the painter a second one, provided Josephine +would again have the “extraordinary means” ready. She consented, and for +four days in succession Le Gros was enabled to sit before him a quarter +of an hour, and throw upon his canvas the features of the general, while +he quietly sat on Josephine’s lap. + +This picture, which Le Gros thus painted, thanks to the sweet ruse of +Josephine, and which was scattered throughout Europe in copperplate +prints, represented Bonaparte, with uncovered head, holding a standard +in his hand, and with his face turned toward his soldiers, calling on +them to follow him as he dashed on the bridge of Arcola, amid a shower +of Austrian balls. + +It is a beautiful, imposing picture, and contemporaries praised it for +its likeness to the hero, but no one could believe that this pale, grave +countenance, these gloomy eyes, and earnest lips, which seemed incapable +of a smile, were those of Bonaparte as he sat on the lap of his beloved +Josephine when Le Gros was painting it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO. + + +After three months the time drew nigh when the peace negotiations +were to reach a final conclusion, and when it was to be decided if the +Emperor of Germany would make peace with the French republic or if he +would renew the war. + +For three months had the negotiations continued in Montebello--three +months of feasts, pleasures, and receptions. To the official and public +rejoicings had been also added domestic joys. Madame Letitia came to +Italy to warm her happy, proud mother’s heart at the triumphs of her +darling son; and she brought with her her daughter Pauline, while the +youngest, Caroline, remained behind in Madame Campan’s +boarding-school. It could not be otherwise than that the sisters of +the commander-in-chief, whose true beauty reminded one of the classic +features of ancient Greece, should find among the officers of the army +of Italy most enthusiastic admirers and worshippers, and that many +should long for the favor of being more intimately connected by the ties +of affection with the celebrated general. + +Bonaparte left his sisters entirely free to make a choice among their +suitors, and he hesitated not to give his consent when Pauline became +affianced to General Leclerc. After a few weeks, the marriage was +celebrated in Montebello; and, soon after, the happy couple left that +city to return to Paris, whither Madame Letitia had preceded them. + +Josephine, however, remained with her husband; she accompanied him from +Montebello to Milan, where Bonaparte, now that the Austrian envoys had +taken their leave, tarried some time, awaiting the final decision of the +Austrian court upon his propositions. Meanwhile, the imperial court, +for good reasons, still hesitated. It was known that in France there was +secretly preparing an event which in a short time might bring on a new +order of things, putting an end to the hateful republic, and once more +placing the Bourbons on the throne of the lilies. + +General Pichegru, a zealous royalist, and intimate friend of the Prince +de Conde, with whom he had been in secret correspondence for several +months, had organized a conspiracy which had for its object the downfall +of the Directory, the ruin of the republican administration, the recall +of the monarchy to Paris, and the re-establishment of the Bourbons. + +But General Moreau, who, with his army on the Rhine, stood opposite to +that of the royalists, had the good fortune to discover the conspiracy, +by intercepting Pichegru’s whole correspondence. The Directory, informed +by Moreau, took secretly precautionary measures, and on the 18th +Fructidor, Pichegru, with all his real or supposed guilty companions, +was arrested. To these guilty ones belonged also, according to +the opinion of the Directory, two out of their number, Carnot and +Barthelemy, besides twenty-two deputies and one hundred and twenty-eight +others, all among the educated classes of society. These were exiled +to Cayenne; Carnot alone escaped from this distant and cruel exile by a +timely flight to Geneva. + +The 18th Fructidor, which disarmed the royalists and destroyed their +plans, had a great influence upon the negotiations carried on between +France and Austria, which were entangled with so many difficulties. +Austria, which had vacillated and delayed--for she was informed of the +schemes of the royalists, and hoped that if Louis XVIII. should ascend +the throne, she would be delivered from all the burdensome exactions +of the republic--now saw that this abortive attempt had removed the +royalists still further from their object and more firmly consolidated +the republic; she was therefore inclined to push on negotiations more +speedily, and to show greater readiness to bring on a final settlement. + +The conferences broken off in Montebello were resumed in Udine. Thither +came the Austrian and French plenipotentiaries. Bonaparte, however, +felt that his presence was also necessary, so as not to allow these +conferences again to remain in abeyance. He therefore, accompanied by +Josephine, went to Passeriano, a beautiful residence of the Doge +Marini, not far from Udine, charmingly situated on the shores of the +Tagliamento, and in the midst of a splendid park. But the residence +in Passeriano was not enlivened by the pleasures, recreations, and +festivities of Montebello. Politics alone occupied Bonaparte’s mind, and +not only the peace negotiations, but also the Directory of the republic, +furnished him with too many occasions for ill-will and anger. + +Austria, which had added the Count von Coblentz to her +plenipotentiaries, adhered obstinately to her former claims; and the +Directory, which now felt stronger and more secure by their victory of +the 18th Fructidor, were so determined not to accept these claims, +that they wrote to General Bonaparte that they would sooner resume +hostilities than concede to “the overpowered, treacherous Austria, +sworn into all the conspiracies of the royalists, her unreasonable +pretensions.” + +But Bonaparte knew better than the proud lords of the Directory, that +France needed peace as well as Austria; that France lacked gold, +men, and ammunition, for the vigorous prosecution of the war. While, +therefore, the Directory, enthroned in the Luxemburg, amid peace and +luxury, desired a renewal of hostilities, it was the man of battles who +desired peace, and who was inclined to make to Austria insignificant +concessions sooner than see the work of peace dashed to pieces. + +The sole recreation in Passeriano consisted in the banquets which +were interchanged between it and Udine, and where Josephine found much +pleasure, at least in the conversation of the Count von Coblentz, +who could speak to her with spirit and grace of his sojourn in +Petersburg--of Catharine the Great, at whose court he had been +accredited so long as ambassador from Austria, and who had even granted +him the privilege of being present at her private evening circles at the +Hermitage. + +Bonaparte was still busy with the glowing tenderness of a worshipping +lover, in procuring for his Josephine pleasures and recreations, as each +favorable opportunity presented itself. + +The republic of Venice, now laboring under the greatest anxiety and fear +on account of Bonaparte’s anger at her perfidy and enmity, had descended +from the height of her proud attitude to the most abject humility. Her +solicitude for mere existence made her so far forget her dignity, that +she humbly invited Bonaparte, whose loud voice of anger pronounced only +vengeance and destruction, to come and receive in person their homage +and the assurance of their loyalty. + +Bonaparte refused this invitation as regarded his own person, for in +his secret thoughts the ruin of Venice was a settled matter; and as +the death-warrant of this republic of terror and secret government was +already signed in his thoughts, he could not accept her feasts and her +homage. But he did not wish before the time to betray to the republic +his own conclusions, and his refusal to accept their invitation ought +not to have the appearance of a hostile demonstration. He therefore sent +to Venice a representative, who, in his name, was to receive the +humble homage and the assurances of friendship from the republic. This +representative was Josephine, and she gladly undertook this mission, +without foreseeing that Venice, which adorned itself for her sake with +flowers and festivities, was but the crowned victim at the eve of the +sacrifice. + +As Bonaparte himself could not accompany his wife, he sent with her +as an escort the ex-magistrate Marmont; and in his memoirs the latter +relates with enthusiasm the feasts which the republic of Venice gave +in honor of the general upon whom, as she well knew, her future fate +depended. + +“Madame Bonaparte,” says he, “was four days in Venice. I accompanied +her hither. Three days were devoted to the most splendid feasts. On +the first day there was a regatta, a species of amusement which +seems reserved only to Venice, the queen of the sea. ... Six or seven +gondolas, each manned by one or two oarsmen, perform a race which begins +at St. Mark’s Square, and ends at the Rialto bridge. These gondolas +seem to fly; persons who have never seen them can form no idea of their +swiftness. The beauty of the representation consists especially in the +immense gatherings of the spectators. The Italians are extremely fond of +this spectacle; they come from great distances on the continent to see +it; there is not in Venice an individual who rushes not to the Canal +Grande to enjoy the spectacle; and during the time of the regatta of +which I am speaking, the wharves on the Canal Grande were covered with +at least one hundred and fifty thousand persons, all full of curiosity. +More than five hundred small and large barges, adorned with flowers, +flags, and tapestries, followed the contesting gondolas. + +“The second day we had a sea-excursion; a banquet had been prepared on +the Lido: the population followed in barges adorned with wreaths and +flowers, and to the sound of music re-echoing far and near. + +“The third day, a night promenade took place. The palace of the doge, +and the houses along the Canal Grande, were illuminated in the most +brilliant manner, and gave light to hundreds of gondolas, which also +were made luminous with divers-colored lamps. After a promenade of two +hours, and a splendid display of fireworks in the midst of the waters, +the ball opened in the palace of the doge. When we think of the means +which the situation of Venice offers, the beauty of her architecture, +the wonderful animation of the thousand gondolas closely pressed +together, causing the impression of a city in motion; and when we think +of the great exertions which such an occasion would naturally call +forth, the brilliant imagination of this people so remarkable for its +refined taste, and its burning lusts for pleasure--then we can form some +idea of the wondrous spectacle presented by Venice in those days. It was +no more the mighty Venice, it was the elegant, the luxurious Venice.” + [Footnote: “Memoires du Due de Raguse,” vol. i., p. 287.] + +After those days of festivities, Josephine, the queen of them, returned +to the quietude of Passeriano, which, after the sunshine of Venice, must +have appeared to her still more gloomy and sad. + +But Bonaparte himself was weary of all this useless repose, and he +resolved with a daring blow to cut into shreds those diplomatic knots of +so many thousand interwoven threads. + +The instrument with which he was to give the blow was not the sword--it +was not that which Alexander had used, but it was a cup. This cup, at a +dejeuner given to him by the Count von Coblentz, where was displayed the +costly porcelain service presented to him by the Empress Catharine, was +dashed at the feet of the Count von Coblentz by Bonaparte, who, with a +thundering voice, exclaimed: “In fourteen days I will dash to pieces the +Austrian monarchy as I now break this!” + +The Count von Coblentz, infuriated at this, was still staring in +bewilderment at the fragments of the imperial gift, when Bonaparte left +the room, to enter his carriage. With a loud voice he called to one of +the officers of his suite, and gave him orders to go at once to the +camp of the Archduke Charles, and to tell him, in the name of General +Bonaparte, that the peace negotiations were broken, and that hostilities +would be resumed next day. + +But as Bonaparte was going toward his carriage, he met the Marquis de +Gallo, who besought him to re-enter the room; he assured him that it +had been resolved to accept Bonaparte’s ultimatum--that is to say, to +renounce all claims to the fortress of Mantua. + +On the next day [Footnote: The 17th of October, 1797.] the treaty of +peace between Austria and France was signed. It had been decided that +the ceremony of signing it should take place in the village of Campo +Formio, which for this reason was declared to be neutral ground. It lay +midway between Udine and Passeriano; and Bonaparte sent his adjutant, +Marmont, into the village to select a house where the ceremony might +take place. But there was not a single building which was in any way +fitted to receive such distinguished guests. The Austrian diplomats, +therefore, consented to come to Passeriano to ratify the terms of +peace, provided, it should be named after the neutral territory of Campo +Formio. + +The Count von Coblentz and the Marquis de Gallo passed the whole day at +Passeriano, in the company of Bonaparte and Josephine. In Josephine’s +drawing-room each abandoned himself to the most cheerful and unaffected +conversation, while at the same time the secretaries of both the +Austrian and French embassies were in the cabinet of the French general, +writing two copies of the mutual agreements of peace which were to be +signed by Bonaparte and by the Austrian plenipotentiaries. + +During the whole day Bonaparte was in high spirits. He had reached his +aim: the strife was over; diplomatic bickerings were at rest; the small +as well as the great war was ended; peace was gained at last! Bonaparte +had, not only on the battle-field, but also at the green-table, been +victorious; he had not only overcome Austria, but also the Directory. +During the whole day he remained in the drawing-room with Josephine and +his Austrian guests, and without any affectation he took his part in +the conversation. It was so pleasant to him to be thus in confidential +intercourse, that, as the evening came on, he would not allow lights to +be brought into the drawing-room. As if they were in a sociable family +circle, in some old remote castle, they amused themselves in relating +ghost-stories, and here, too, Bonaparte won a victory. His story +surpassed all others in horrors and thrilling fears, and the dramatic +mode of its delivery increased its effect. Josephine became excited +as if by some living reality; and while Bonaparte, with an affrighted, +trembling voice, was describing how the door opened, how the +blood-stained ghost with hollow eyes entered, she screamed aloud, and +tremblingly clung to his arm. + +At this moment it was announced that the secretaries had prepared +the documents of the treaty, and that nothing was wanting to make it +operative but the signatures. + +Bonaparte laughingly thanked his Josephine with a kiss for the +flattering effect produced by his ghost-story, and then he hastened +into his cabinet to attach his signature to the peace of Campo Formio. +[Footnote: Lavalette, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 250.] + +This peace gave to France the left bank of the Rhine, with the fortress +of Mayence: it delivered Italy from the rule of Austria, but it repaid +Austria by giving her possession of the beautiful city of the lagoons, +Venice, which made Austria mistress of the Adriatic Sea. + +Peace was concluded, and now Bonaparte, with his laurels and victories, +could return to Paris; now he could hope that he had swept away, +from the memory even of his adversaries, the sad success of the 13th +Vendemiaire, by the series of brilliant victories and conquests which he +had obtained in the name of their common country. + +Bonaparte prepared himself therefore to return home to France. But the +Emperor of Germany, full of admiration for the hero of Arcola, and of +joy at a peace which had given him Venice, and which gave to France +little more than the captured cannon, standards, and prisoners, but +undying glory, wished to show himself thankful to Bonaparte. He offered +to the general millions of treasure, and, still more, a magnificent +estate, and promised him the title of duke. + +But Bonaparte refused alike the money and the title. As a simple French +general he wished to return to France, and, though in future days he +created at his will many dukes, he now disdained to become a duke by +the grace of the Emperor of Germany. He accepted nothing out of all the +offered presents, but six splendid gray horses which the Emperor Francis +had sent him from his own stalls. Bonaparte had won too many victories, +to need the title of a German duke; he had obtained a sufficiently +ample share of the war-booty not to need the wealth and the treasures of +sovereign gifts. He was no longer the poor general, of whom his enemies +could say that he had married the widow of General de Beauharnais +on account of her riches and of her influence; he now, besides fame, +possessed a few millions of francs, which, as a small portion of his +share of the victory’s rewards, he brought home with him. + +His work in Italy was accomplished; and in Milan, whither Bonaparte had +returned with Josephine, they bade each other farewell: they wished to +return to Paris by different routes. + +Bonaparte desired first to go to Rastadt, there to attend the great +peace congress of Germany and France. His journey thither was a complete +triumph. He was everywhere received with enthusiasm; everywhere the +people applauded the conqueror of so many battles, the hero who, +only twenty-eight years old, had, by his series of victories, gained +immortality. His reception in Berne, especially, was enthusiastic +and flattering; both sides of his pathway were lined with brilliant +equipages, and the beautiful, richly apparelled ladies who sat in them +threw him kisses, crowns of flowers and bouquets, shouting, “Long live +the peace-maker!” + +He travelled over Mount Cenis to Rastadt, where he found in the crowd of +German and French diplomats many generals and learned men, who had come +there to see the man whom his very enemies admired, amongst whom he was +nearly as popular as with his friends. However, Bonaparte remained but a +few days there; for, after having attended the opening of the Congress, +he pursued his journey to Paris, where he arrived on the 6th of +December. + +Josephine, as we have already said, did not accompany her husband to +Paris. Before leaving Italy, she desired to accomplish two objects of +her heart. She wished to see Rome, the everlasting city of fame and of +arts, the city of the ancient gods, and of the seat of St. Peter; and +she wished also to embrace her son Eugene, who was there as an attache +of Joseph Bonaparte, the ambassador of the French republic. Wherever she +went, she was received with enthusiasm, not only as the wife of Italy’s +deliverer, but also on account of her personal merits. Through her +affability, her amiableness, and her sweet disposition, which shunned +every haughty exaltation, and yet was never lacking in dignity or in +reserve--through the goodness of her heart, which was ever ready to help +the unfortunate--through all those exquisite and praiseworthy qualities +which adorned and beautified her, she had won the love and admiration +of all Italy; and long afterward, when the deliverer of Italy had +become her lord and her oppressor, when she had no longer cause to love +Bonaparte, but only to curse him, Italy preserved for Josephine a memory +full of admiration and love. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. DAYS OF TRIUMPH. + + +On the 5th of December, 1797, Bonaparte returned to Paris; and, a few +days after, Josephine arrived also. In her little hotel, in the Street +Chautereine, where she had passed so many bright and happy days, she +hoped, after so many storms and hardships, to enjoy again new and +cheerful sunny days of domestic enjoyments--she hoped to rest from +all those triumphs which had accompanied at each step both her and her +husband. + +This hope, however, was not to be realized, for greater triumphs still +than those she had enjoyed in Italy awaited Bonaparte in Paris. The days +of quietude, and the pleasures of home, which Josephine so much loved, +and which she so well understood how to embellish with friendships and +joys, were now forever past away. Placed at the side of a hero whose +fame already filled all Europe, she could no longer calculate upon +living in modest retirement, as she would have wished to do: it was +her lot to share his burden of glory, as she also was illumined by its +beams. + +From this moment nothing of former days remained; all was changed, all +was altered by Bonaparte’s laurels and victories. He was no more the +servant of the republic, he was nearly its master; he had not only +defeated Austria in Italy, but he had also defeated in France the +Directory, which had sent him as its general to Italy, and which now saw +him return home as the master of the five monarchs of France. + +Every thing now, as already said, assumed a new shape: even the house +in which they lived, the street in which this house stood, had to be +changed. Hitherto this street had been called “Rue Chautereine;” since +Bonaparte’s return the municipality of Paris gave it the name “Rue de +la Victoire,” and now to this Street of Victory the people of Paris +streamed forth to see the conqueror; to stand there patiently for hours +before the little hotel, and watch for the moment when at one of the +windows the pale countenance of Bonaparte, with his long, smooth hair, +might appear. + +Even the little hotel was to be altered. Bonaparte--who, in earlier +days, had described, as his dream of happiness, the possession of a +house, of a cabriolet, and to have at his table the company of a few +friends, with his Josephine--now found that the little house in the Rue +de la Victoire was too small for him; that it must be altered even as +the street had been. The modest and tasteful arrangements which had +sufficed the Widow Josephine de Beauharnais, appeared now to her young +husband as insufficient; the little saloon, in which at one time he had +felt so happy at the side of the viscountess, was no longer suited to +his actual wants. Large reception-rooms and vestibules were needed, +magnificent furniture was necessary, for the residence of the conqueror +of Italy, in the Rue de la Victoire. + +Architects were engaged to enlarge and transform the small house into +a large hotel, and it was left to Josephine’s taste to convert the +hitherto elegant private dwelling into a magnificent residence for the +renowned general who had to be daily in readiness to receive +official visits, delegations of welcome from the authorities, and the +institutions of Paris, and from the other cities of France. + +For France was desirous to pay her homage to the hero of Arcola, and to +celebrate his genius--to wish him prosperity, and to applaud him. The +Directory had to adapt themselves to the universal sentiment; to pay +their respects to the general with a cheerful mien and with friendly +alacrity, while at heart they looked on him with vexation and envy. +Bonaparte’s popularity filled them with anxiety and fearful misgivings. + +But it was necessary to submit to this; the public sentiment required +those festivities in honor of the general of the republic, and the five +directors in the Luxemburg had no longer the power to guillotine the +public sentiment, the true king of Paris, as once they had guillotined +King Louis. + +The directors, therefore, inaugurated brilliant festivities; +they received the conqueror of Italy in the Luxemburg with great +demonstrations of solemnity, in which the Parisians took a part. In +the immense court in front of the residence of the directors this +celebration took place. In the midst of the open place a lofty platform +was erected; it was the country’s altar, on which the gigantic statues +of Freedom, Equality, and of Peace, were lifted up. Around this altar +was a second platform, with seats for the five hundred, the deputies, +and the authorities; the standards conquered in the Italian war formed +over the seats of the five directors a sort of canopy: they were, +however, to them as the sword of Damocles, ready to fall upon them at +any moment and destroy them. + +The directors, dressed in brilliant antique robes, created no +impression, notwithstanding their theatrical splendor, in comparison +with the sensation produced by the simple, unaffected appearance of +General Bonaparte. He wore the plain green uniform which he had worn at +Arcola and Lodi; his suite was limited to a few officers only, who, like +himself, appeared in their ordinary uniforms, which they had worn on +the battle-field. The two generals, Andreossy and Joubert, carried +the standards which the Legislative Assembly, two years before, had +presented to the army of Italy, and upon which could now be read the +names of sixty-seven battles won. + +At one of the windows of the palace of the Luxemburg, Josephine watched +this strange celebration, the splendors of which made her heart beat +with delight, and filled her eyes with tears of joy. Near her was her +daughter Hortense, lately withdrawn from Madame Campan’s institution, +to be with her mother, who, full of ecstasy and pride, gazed at the +charming maiden at her side, just blooming into a young lady; and then +beyond, at that pale young man with pensive eyes standing near yonder +altar, and before whom all the authorities of Paris bowed--who was her +husband, her Bonaparte, everywhere conqueror! Before her only was he the +conquered! She listened with a happy smile to the long speech with which +Talleyrand saluted Bonaparte in the name of his country; she heard how +Barras, concealing within himself his jealousy and his envy, welcomed +him; how with admiration he praised him; how he said that Nature, in +one of her most exalted and greatest moments, had resolved to produce a +masterpiece, and had given to the wondering world Bonaparte! + +And then, after this affected harangue, Josephine saw how Barras, with +tears of emotion, embraced Bonaparte, and how the other Directors of +France followed his example. A slight sarcastic smile for a moment +played on Josephine’s lips, for she well knew how little this friendship +and this love of the Directory were to be trusted, how little sincerity +was contained in the sentiments which they so publicly manifested toward +the conqueror. + +With love’s anxiety and a woman’s instinct, she watched over her hero; +she was ever busy to track out the meandering paths of his foes, to +destroy the nets wherein they wished to entangle his feet. She had even +braved the jealous wrath of Bonaparte when it was necessary to ferret +out some intrigue of the Directory. The special spy, whom Barras had +sent to Italy to watch the movements of Bonaparte, and to give him early +reports of every word, Botot, had been received by Josephine with a +friendly smile and with great attention; she manifested toward him a +confiding friendship, and thus succeeded in discovering his secret, +and behind the seeming friend to unveil the cunning spy of Bonaparte’s +enemies. She could therefore meet Bonaparte’s anger with serene brow +and pure conscience; and when he accused her of frivolity and +unfaithfulness, she justified herself before him by unveiling the secret +schemes and machinations of his foes. And these foes were chiefly the +five directors. He therefore knew very well what he was to expect from +the embraces, the tears, the kisses of Barras; and the flattering +words which he spoke to him in the presence of the Parisians made no +impression whatever on Bonaparte’s heart. + +But the applause with which the people of Paris received him was not +deceitful, like that of the Directory; the respect they paid him was not +forced, and their applause therefore filled the hearts of Josephine +and Bonaparte with joy. Wherever he appeared, he was greeted with +loud demonstrations of joy; the poets praised him in their songs, the +musicians sang hymns in his honor, and the men of science brought to him +proofs of their esteem. The Institute of Sciences named him one of their +members in the place of Carnot; the painters and architects paid him +homage with their works. The renowned painter David requested the honor +of taking Bonaparte’s portrait, and the general acceded to his wishes +because Josephine had promised that the painter’s request should be +granted. David desired to paint him on horseback near the bridge of Lodi +or of Arcola, and he placed before him a sketch he had made for this +picture. But Bonaparte rejected it. + +“No,” said he, “I was not there alone, I conquered only with the whole +army. Place me there, quiet and calm, seated upon a fiery horse.” + +What did Bonaparte mean by this “fiery horse”? Are his words to be +understood in all their beauty and simplicity? or did he, by the +restless horse, which he so calmly reins in, already think of the +republic which, under the guidance of his masterly hand, was one day +to be converted into an empire? Who could read the depths of this man’s +heart, which screened itself so carefully, and whose secrets in regard +to the future he dared not divulge even to his beloved Josephine? + +The first few weeks after their return from Italy were passed away amid +festivities and demonstrations of respect. Josephine abandoned herself +to this pomp with a high spirit, and with a deep love for enjoyment. Her +whole being was thoroughly interpenetrated with the warmth of this new +sun, which had risen over her in so wondrous a light, and surrounded her +with its lustrous rays. All these festivities, banquets, representations +at the grand opera, and at the Theatre Francais, these public ovations +which accompanied Bonaparte at every step, at every promenade, at every +attendance at the theatre,--all these marks of honor elated Josephine, +filling her with an enthusiastic pride for the hero, the man whom she +now loved with all the excitability of a woman’s heart, and over whom +fame rested as a halo, and which made him appear to Josephine still +greater and more exalted. To him alone now belonged her whole heart and +being; and now for the first time she experienced those nervous spasms +of jealousy which at a later date were to mix so many bitter drops of +gall in the golden cup of her greatness. + +At the ovations, the tokens of affection on the part of gentlemen +delighted her, but she had no thanks for the ladies when, with their +enthusiasm, brilliant eyes, bewitching smiles, and flattering words, +they endeavored to manifest their adoration and gratitude to the hero of +Italy; she could barely keep back her tears when, at the reception which +Talleyrand, the minister of foreign affairs, gave to Bonaparte, the +beautiful songstress Grassini appeared, and, with her entrancing voice, +sang the fame of the conqueror who had bound captive to his triumphal +car, as the most precious booty, the proud songstress herself. + +The Directory, however, would have gladly allowed the ladies to take +part in this enthusiasm if the men had taken no share in it; but +the admiration which they had everywhere manifested so strongly +for Bonaparte, had completely overshadowed their own greatness and +importance. They were no longer the monarchs of France--Bonaparte alone +seemed to be its ruler--and their envious jealousy told them that +it would require but a sign from his hand to impart to the French +government a new form, to disenthrone the five directors, and to place +himself in their position. The sole aim was, therefore, to remove +Bonaparte as soon as practicable from Paris, and if possible from +France, so as to check his popularity, and to oppose his ever-growing +power. + +Bonaparte was but little inclined to meet these views of the Directory, +and to accept the propositions made to him. He declined at once to go +to Rastadt, there to attend to the discussions of the congress, with +as much resolution as he had refused to go to Rome to punish the +papal government for the enmity it had shown to Prance. He left it to +diplomats to prattle in Rastadt over the green-table, and to General +Berthier to punish the papal government, and to drive Pius out of the +Eternal City, the seat of St. Peter, and erect there the altar of the +republic of Rome. + +There were greater and loftier aims which Bonaparte now sought--and +fame, which he loved quite as much as Josephine did, and was soon to +love even more, was enticing him on to paths yet untrodden, where no +hero of past ages had sought for it. + +In Egypt, near the pyramids of four thousand years, he desired to gather +fresh laurels; from thence the astonished world was to hear the wondrous +recitals of his victories. His lively fancy already imagined his name +written on those gigantic monuments of past ages, the only earthly +creations which have in themselves nearly the character of immortality. +With his mighty deeds he wished to surpass all the heroes of modern +times; he desired to rival Caesar and Alexander. + +Caesar had won fifty battles, Bonaparte wanted to win a hundred. +Alexander had gone from Macedonia to the temple of Jupiter Ammon, +Bonaparte wished to leave Paris to obtain victories at the cataracts of +the Nile. + +The bitterness which existed between the Directory and Bonaparte was +increasing more and more. He no longer spoke to the five monarchs as +an obedient, submissive son of the republic; he spoke as their lord and +master; he threatened when his will was not obeyed; he was wroth when he +met with opposition. And the Directory had not the courage to reproach +him for his undutiful conduct, or to enter the lists with him to dispute +for the sovereignty, for they well knew that public sentiment would +declare itself in his favor, that Paris would side with the general if +matters were to come to a crisis between them. It was therefore better +and wiser to avoid this strife, and, under some good pretext, remove +Bonaparte and open to him some distant pathway to fame, so as to be rid +of him. + +Egypt was far enough from Paris to give to the Directory guaranties +of security, and it fell in with Bonaparte’s plans. It was resolved +therefore to send an expedition to Egypt, and he was appointed its +commander-in-chief. + +Bonaparte had directed his eyes to the East when in Passeriano he was +making peace with Austria. In Egypt were the battle-fields which were to +surround his name with a fresh halo of glory. + +Josephine learned this resolution of Bonaparte with fear and anxiety, +but she dared not betray this to any one, since this expedition was to +remain a secret to all the world. Only in private could her tears flow, +only before Bonaparte could she complain. Once, as she encircled him +convulsively with her arms, her mind full of misgivings and her eyes of +tears she asked him how many years he thought of remaining in Egypt. + +She had put this question only in a jesting form. He took it in full +earnestness, and answered: + +“Either a few months or six years. All depends upon circumstances. I +must win Egypt to civilization. I will gather there artists, learned +men, mechanics of all trades, even women--dancers, songstresses, and +actresses. I want to mould Egypt into a second France. One can do a +great deal in six years. I am now twenty-nine years old, I shall be +thirty-five when I return--that is not old. But I shall want more than +six years if I go to India.” [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. ii., p. 49.] + +Josephine cried aloud with anguish and horror, and, embracing him in +her arms, implored him with all the delicate tenderness of her anxious +affection not to thrust her aside, but to allow her to accompany him to +Egypt. + +But Bonaparte refused, and this time her tears, which he had never +before denied, were fruitless. He felt that Josephine’s presence would +damp his ardent courage, retard his onward march, and that he would +not have the necessary fearless energy to incur risks and perils if +Josephine were to be threatened by their consequences. He could not +expose her to the privations and restless wanderings of a campaign, and +his burning love for her was too real for him to yield to her wishes. + +Josephine, meanwhile, was not silenced by his refusal; she persevered in +her supplications, and Bonaparte, at last softened by her prayers, was +obliged to come to terms. It was decided that Josephine should follow +him to Egypt, that he would select a place of residence and prepare +every thing for her reception there, so that she might without danger or +too much inconvenience undertake the journey. + +But before commencing such an undertaking, Josephine’s health needed +recruiting; she was to go to the baths of Plombieres, and Bonaparte was +to hold a ship in readiness in Toulon to bring her to Egypt. + +The ship which was chosen to transport her was the Pomona, the same +in which, when only sixteen years old, she had come from Martinique to +France. Then she had gone forth to an unknown world and to an unknown +husband; now she was on the same ship to undertake a journey to an +unknown world, but it was a beloved husband whom she was going to meet, +and love gave her the strength to do so. + +Josephine, full of the sweetest confidence that she was soon to follow +Bonaparte, and hereafter to see him again, accompanied him to Toulon. +She had the strength to repress her tears as she bade him farewell, and +to smile as he entreated her to keep her heart faithful to him. + +She showed herself at this separation stronger than Bonaparte himself, +for while her eyes were bright with joyous love, his were sad and +obscured by tears. + +The difference was this: Bonaparte knew that he was bidding farewell to +Josephine for long years; she trusted that in a few months she would be +reunited to him. + +Bonaparte imprinted a last kiss on the lips of Josephine. She embraced +him tenderly in her arms, and, to shield herself against the deep +anguish of the separation, she cried aloud: + +“In three months we meet again! The Pomona, which brought me to France, +will bear me back to my hero, to my Achilles! In three months I shall be +with you again. You have often called me the star of your fortune. How +could this star abandon you when you are going to fight against your +foes?” + +He gazed at her with a look at once full of deep love and sorrow: + +“Josephine,” said he, solemnly, “my enemies are neither in Asia nor +in Africa, but they are all in France. I leave you behind me in their +midst, for you to watch them, and to unravel their schemes. Think +of this, and be my strong and prudent wife.” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s +words.--See Le Normand, vol. i., p. 278.] + +Deeply moved, he turned away, and hastened from her to the boat that was +to bear him to the flag-ship, which was waiting only for the commanding +general to come aboard before weighing anchor. + + + + +BOOK III. THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED. + + +CHAPTER XXX. PLOMBIERES AND HALMAISON. + + +While Bonaparte with the French fleet was sailing toward the East, +there, in the wide valley of the Nile, to win a new fame, Josephine +started for Plombieres, where she had requested her daughter Hortense +to meet her. The splendid scenery and pleasant quietude of Plombieres +offered at least some comfort and satisfaction to Josephine, whose +heart was not yet healed from the anguish of separation. Her greatest +consolation was the thought that in a few months she would go to her +husband; that the Pomona would bear her to him who now possessed her +whole soul, and surrounded her whole being with an enchantment which was +to cease only with her life. + +She counted the days, the weeks, which separated her from the wished-for +journey; she waited with impatient longing for the news that the Pomona, +which needed a few repairs, was ready and all prepared for the distant +but welcome voyage. + +Her sole recreation consisted in the company of, and in the cordial +fellowship with Hortense, now grown up a young lady, and the +companionship of a few intimate ladies who had followed her to +Plombieres. Surrounded by these, she either sat in her drawing-room, +busy with some manual labor, or else, followed by a single servant, she +and Hortense made long walks in the wonderfully romantic vicinity of +Plombieres. + +One morning she was in the drawing-room with her friends, working with +the needle, conversing, and finding recreation in stepping through the +wide-open folding-doors upon the balcony, from which a most enchanting +view could be had of the lovely valley, and the mountains which stood +round about it. While there, busily embroidering a rose, one of her +friends, who had gone to the balcony, called her to come quickly to +admire a remarkably small greyhound which was passing down the street. +Josephine, whose love for dogs had made Napoleon pass many a restless +hour, hastened to obey her friend’s call, and went out upon the balcony, +whither the rest of the ladies followed her, all curious to see the +greyhound which had set Madame de Cambis into such an excitement. But +the weight of these six ladies, gathered close together on the balcony, +was too heavy for the plank and joist-work loosely put together. A +fearful crash was heard; and as Hortense, who had remained in the +drawing-room, busy with her painting, looked out, she saw neither the +ladies nor the balcony. All had disappeared--nothing but a cloud of +dust arose from the street, amidst a confusion of cries of distress, of +shouts for help, and groans of pain. + +The balcony, with the ladies, had been precipitated into the street, and +all those who were on it were more or less severely injured. Josephine +recognized it as a providential protection that she had not paid +with broken limbs, like her friends, for the curiosity of seeing the +beautiful little greyhound, but had only received violent contusions and +sprained joints. For weeks she had to suffer from the consequences of +this fall, and was confined to her bed, not being able to lift herself +up, nor with her bruised, swollen hands to bring the food to her mouth +during this time. Hortense had to wait upon her mother as she had waited +upon her when she was only a small, helpless child. + +While Josephine was thus for these weeks suffering, the Pomona, +fully equipped, was sent to sea, for she was intrusted with important +instructions for the commanding general Bonaparte, and could not +possibly be detained for Josephine’s recovery. She received this news +with bitter tears, and resolutely declared that no sooner should she be +recovered than she would sail for Egypt in any kind of vessel; that she +was firmly decided to follow her husband and share his dangers. + +She had, however, twice received letters from Bonaparte. In the first of +these he had, full of tender solicitude, entreated her not to undertake +the fatiguing and dangerous voyage; in the second he had commanded +her with all the earnestness of love to give up the enterprise, and +requested as a proof of her affection and faithfulness, that she would +listen to reason, remain in Paris, and watch over his interests, and be +his guardian angel. + +Josephine read this last letter with a sorrowful smile, and, as she +handed it to her friend Madame de Chateau-Renaud, she said, sighing: + +“The days of happiness are over. While in Italy, Bonaparte required that +I should bid defiance to all dangers, so as to be at his side, for his +letters then demanded my presence. Now he orders me to avoid dangers, +and to remain quietly at home.” + +“But it is out of pure love he does this!” exclaimed her friend. “See +how affectionate and how tender his letter is! Certainly no man can love +his wife more warmly than Bonaparte loves you.” + +“Oh, yes,” sighed Josephine, “he loves me yet, but I am no longer +absolutely necessary--he can live without me; once love ruled over his +reason, now his reason rules over his love. It will be as I fear: I +shall day by day love him more fondly and more passionately, for he is +my last love, but he will every day love me less, for perhaps I am his +first love, and his heart will be young long after he reads upon my face +that I am six years older than he.” + +However, she conformed to the wishes of her husband; she was resigned, +and gave up the thought of going to Egypt. At first she did it only +with tears, but soon after there came news which made her accept her +husband’s wishes as the commands of Fate. + +The Pomona, the vessel which had once brought her from Martinique to +France, and on board of which she was to go to Egypt, had been captured +by an English man-of-war, and all her passengers sent as prisoners to +England. + +The fall from the balcony had therefore saved Josephine from being +carried into captivity to England. To this fall she owed her liberty! +With all the levity and superstition of a creole, Josephine looked upon +this fortunate mishap as a warning from Fate, and it seemed to her as if +this had taken place to hinder her journey to Egypt. She therefore dried +her tears and submitted to the orders alike of Fate and of her husband. + +She remained in France, and accepted her mission to watch, as a true +friend and beloved one, over the interests of her husband, to observe +his friends and foes, and to send him news of every thing which it was +important for him to know. + +Once her fate decided, and she resolved to remain in France, she +determined to make her life comfortable and pleasant; she wished to +prepare for herself and her children a joyous existence, and procure +also for her returning husband a gift which she knew would meet a +long-cherished wish of his. + +She bought a residence, situated not far from Paris, the Castle +Malmaison, if the name of castle can be properly given to a pretty, +tastefully-built country residence, tolerably large and plain, but +surrounded by a beautiful park. + +Their wishes and wants were yet simple, and the country residence, +Malmaison, was amply sufficient to receive the family and the friends of +General Bonaparte and his wife; it became too small and too narrow only +when it had to accommodate the Emperor Napoleon, the empress, and their +court-attendants and suite. + +But if the Castle Malmaison was not large, the park which surrounded +it was all the larger and handsomer, and, with its shady walks, its +wondrous beds of flowers, its majestic avenues, its splendid groves and +lawns, it had for Josephine pleasures and joys ever new and fresh; and +it furnished her, moreover, with the welcome opportunity of following +the inclinations of her youth amidst the flowers, birds, trees, and +plants. + +Josephine loved botany; it was natural that she should endeavor to +collect together in Malmaison the most beautiful plants and flowers, and +to arrange them in this her little earthly paradise. She enlisted the +most able architects and the most skilful gardeners, and, under their +direction, with the hands of hundreds of workmen, there soon arose one +of the most beautiful hot-houses, wherein all these glories of earth, +splendid flowers, and fruits of distant climes, would find a home! + +Josephine herself, with her fine taste and her deep knowledge of botany, +directed all these arrangements and improvements; the builders as well +as the gardeners had to submit their plans for her approbation, and it +was not seldom that her keen, practised eye discovered in them defects +which her ingenuity at once found means to correct. + +In Malmaison, Josephine created around her a new world, a quiet paradise +of happiness, where she could dream, with blissful cheerfulness and +with all the youthful energy of her heart, of a peaceful future, of +delightful contentment, in the quiet enjoyment of Nature and of home. + +But the old world outside did not cease its own march; it fought its +battles, spun its intrigues, and continued its hostilities. Josephine +could not withdraw herself from this old world; she dared not place the +paradise of Malmaison as a wall of partition between her and the +wild stir and tumult of Paris; she had to rush away from the world of +innocence, from this country-life, into the whirlpool of the agitated, +restless life of Paris. + +Bonaparte had made it a duty for her to watch his friends as well as his +foes, and there were then happening in Paris events which appeared to +the wife of General Bonaparte worthy of close observation. His long +absence had diminished the number of his friends, and at the same time +gave strength to and increased his enemies, who were ever busy to +defame and vilify his heroic deeds, and to turn them into a crime; they +represented that the expedition to Egypt, notwithstanding the glorious +exploits of the French army, should have had more striking results, and +the louder they cried out, the more feeble and timid were the voices +of his friends. The latter daily found their position becoming more +precarious, for they were the moderate republicans, the supporters of +the actual order of things, and of the constitution which France had +adopted. Against this constitution arose, with loud cries, two hostile +parties, which increased every day, and assumed toward it a more and +more threatening attitude. + +These parties were, on the one hand, the royalists, who saw their hopes +increase every day, because the armies of the European powers, allied +against France, were approaching nearer and nearer the French +frontiers; and, on the other, the republicans of the past, who hoped to +re-establish the old days of the Convention and of the red republic. + +Both parties tried to undermine society and the existing authorities; +they organized conspiracies, seditions, and tumults, and were constantly +inventing new intrigues, so as to destroy the government, and set +themselves up in its place. + +The royalists trusted to the combined powers of the princes of Europe, +with whom the exiled Bourbons were approaching; and in La Vendee the +guerilla warfare had already begun against the republic. + +The red republicans dreamed of re-establishing the guillotine, which was +to restore France to health by delivering her from all the adversaries +of the republic and bring back the glorious days of 1793; they left +nothing untried to excite the people into dissatisfaction and open +rebellion. + +Against both parties stood the Directory, who in these days of tumult +and sedition, were themselves feeble and without energy, seeking only to +prolong their existence. They were satisfied to live on day by day, and +shrank from every decided action which might increase the wrath of the +parties or destroy the brilliant present of the mighty directors, in +whose ears the title of “the five monarchs” sounded so sweetly. + +In the interior of France, anarchy, with all its horrors and confusion, +prevailed, and, on the frontier, its enemies were taking advantage of +this anarchy to give to the republic its mortal stroke. + +Turkey, Russia, the Kings of Sardinia, Naples, and Sweden, were allied +with Austria, England, and Prussia, and they had begun to make immense +preparations. A Russian army, led by Suwarrow, was marching toward +Italy, to the help of Austria--to reconquer Lombardy. The Rastadt +congress, from which a universal peace had been expected, had dissolved, +and the only result was an increased enmity between Germany and +France, the deputies of the latter, as they were returning home, being +shamefully murdered in the open street, immediately before the gates of +Rastadt, at the instigation of the Austrian Count Lehrbach. + +The murder of these ambassadors became the signal for the renewal of +war, which was now to be prosecuted with increased bitterness. + +At this important, critical moment, when all Europe was buckling on +its armor against France, which so much needed the guidance of her +victorious general--at this moment, Bonaparte was not only away from +Paris, but no news had been received from him for some months. Only +a vague rumor was spread through Paris: “Bonaparte had fallen at the +desperate attack on Acre,” and this sufficed to discourage entirely his +friends, and to make his enemies still more audacious and overbearing. + +At first Josephine was entirely cast down by the terrible news; but +afterward came the reflection, the doubt, the hope, that all this +might be a rumor spread by his enemies. She hastened to Paris to obtain +information from the Directory, so as to find out if there were any +foundation for the report of Bonaparte’s death. But the Directory had +as uncertain news as Josephine herself, and the absence of information +seemed to confirm its truth. + +As she came one day to Barras to ask him if there were any news from +the army, she heard him say to Rewbell, one of the five directors: “Here +comes the wife of that hypocrite Bonaparte! If he is not dead to Europe, +he is at least dead to France.” + +This expression proved to her that Barras himself did not believe in his +death, and gave to Josephine all her energy and presence of mind. She +busied herself in endeavoring to find a clew to this horrible rumor; and +she found that Bonaparte’s enemies had spread it, and that only those +to whom his death would be welcome, and his return be objectionable, had +circulated this report. + +Her heart again beat with hope; she now felt, in the blissful joy which +penetrated her whole being, that Bonaparte was not dead; that he lived +still; that he would return home, to her great delight and to the terror +of his foes. A cheerful assurance sustained her whole nature. While +all those, who in the days of her happiness had rivalled each other in +assuring her of their friendship and devotedness, the Directory, the +ministers, the majority of the generals, turned away from her, cold and +indifferent; and her few true friends, low-spirited and depressed, bowed +their heads, while her foes and those of Bonaparte scornfully said in +their joy, “Now the new King of Jerusalem and Cyprus has fallen under +the blows of a new savage Omar.” While every thing was against her, +Josephine alone was cheerful, and confidingly looked into the future, +for she felt and knew that the future would soon bring back her husband, +her beloved. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. THE FIRST FAITHLESSNESS. + + +Josephines prophetic heart had not deceived her. Bonaparte lived! But +his was a life of danger, of constantly renewed battles and hardships--a +life in which he had constantly to guard against not only enemies, but +also against sickness. + +Bonaparte had traversed the deserts with his army, visited the pyramids, +conquered Cairo, and, in warmly-contested and fearful combats, had +defeated and subdued the Mussulman. But these numerous victories had +been followed by some defeats, and all his successes were more than +counterbalanced by the fruitless storming of the impregnable Acre, and +the failure to conquer Syria. The English admiral, Sidney Smith, with +his vessels, anchored in the harbor of Acre, protected the besieged, +and constantly provided them with provisions and ammunition, and so +efficiently supported the pacha and his mercenary European soldiers, +that Bonaparte, after two months of fruitless efforts, abandoned the +siege on the 10th of May, 1799, and retreated into Egypt. + +This is not, however, the place to recall the stupendous enterprises of +Bonaparte, which remind one of the deeds of the heroes and demi-gods of +ancient Greece, or the nursery tales of extraordinary beings. + +His heroic deeds are engraven on history’s page: there can be read +the wondrous events of his Egyptian campaign, of his march through +the wilderness, of the capture of Cairo, of his successful battles of +Aboukir and Tabor, which led the heroic General Kleber, forgetting all +rivalry, to embrace Bonaparte, exclaiming: “General Bonaparte, you are +as great as the world, but the world is too small for you!” + +There, also, one can read of the cruel massacre of three thousand +captive Mussulmen, of the revolt of Cairo; there are depicted the +blood-stained laurels which Bonaparte won in this expedition, the +original plan of which seems to have been conceived in the brain of one +who was at once a demi-god and an adventurer. + +We leave, therefore, to history the exclusive privilege of narrating +Bonaparte’s career as a warrior; our task is with something +superior--with his thoughts, feelings, and sufferings, in the days of +his Egyptian campaign. It is not with the soldier, the captain, or his +plans of battle, that we have to do, but with the man, and especially +with the husband of Josephine--the woman who for his sake suffered, +was full of solicitude, contended for him, and struggled with love and +loyalty, while he fought only with sword and cannon. + +It is true, Bonaparte also had to suffer, and his anxieties for the +success of his plans did not alone hang heavily on his heart, while with +his army he besieged the impregnable Acre. At this very time his heart +received a deep wound from his friend and confidant Junot, who drove +the sting of jealousy into his sensitive heart. It is the privilege of +friendship to pass by in silence nothing which calumny or ill-will may +imagine or circulate, but truly to make known to our friend every thing +which the public says of him, without regard to the sufferings which +such communications may entail upon his heart. Junot made full use of +this privilege. Bourrienne in his memoirs relates as follows: + +“While we were in the vicinity of the springs of Messoudiah, I saw one +day Bonaparte, with his friend Junot, pacing to and fro, as he often +did. I was not very far from them, and I know not why during this +conversation my eyes were fixed on him. The face of the general was +paler than usual, though I knew not the cause. There was a strange +nervousness; his eyes seemed bewildered, and he often struck his head +with his hand. + +“After a quarter of an hour, he left Junot and came toward me. I had +noticed his angry, thoughtful expression. I went to meet him, and as I +stood before him, Bonaparte, with a harsh and severe tone, exclaimed: +‘You have no affection for me. The women! ... Josephine! ... Had you any +affection for me, you would long ago have given me the information which +Junot has now told me: he is a true friend! Josephine! ... and I am six +hundred miles away! ... You ought to have told me! ... Josephine! ... +so to deceive me! ... You! ... “Woe to you all! I will uproot +that detestable race of seducers and blondins! As regards +her--separation!--yes: divorce, public separation before the eyes +of all! ... I must write! I know every thing! ... It is her fault, +Bourrienne! You ought to have told me.’ + +“These vehement, broken utterances, the strange expression on his face, +and his excited tone of voice, revealed only too clearly what had been +the subject of the conversation he had had with Junot. I saw that Junot +had been drawn into a fatal indiscretion, and that if he had really +believed that charges could be made against Madame Bonaparte, he had +exaggerated them in an unpardonable manner. My situation was one of +extreme delicacy: I had, however, the good fortune to remain cool, and +as soon as his first excitement had subsided, I began to tell him that +I knew nothing about what Junot had told him; that if even such rumors, +which often were circulated only by slander, had reached me, and if I +had thought it my duty to communicate them to him, I should certainly +not have chosen the moment when he was six hundred miles away from +France to do so. I did not hesitate to tell him how blameworthy Junot’s +conduct appeared to me, and how ungenerous it was to accuse a woman +thoughtlessly, when she was not present to justify or to defend herself; +I told him that it was no proof of affection for Junot to add domestic +troubles to the grave anxieties which already overburdened him. +Notwithstanding my observations, to which, however, he listened with +composure, the word ‘separation’ fell often from his lips, and one must +understand to what a pitch the excitement of his feelings could carry +him, to be able to imagine how Bonaparte appeared during this painful +scene. I did not, however, give up the point; I came back to what I had +said. I reminded him with what carelessness men received and circulated +such reckless stories, suited only to the idle curiosity of gossips, and +unworthy the attention of strong minds. I spoke to him of his fame: ‘My +fame?’ cried he, ‘ah, I know not what I would give if what Junot has +told me is not true--so much do I love this woman ... if Josephine +is guilty, I must be divorced from her forever. ... I will not be +the ridicule of the idle babblers of Paris! I must write to Joseph to +procure this separation.’ + +“Though he was still much excited, yet he was somewhat more quiet. I +took advantage of a moment’s pause to combat this idea of separation +which seemed to overrule him. I called his attention to the +unreasonableness it would be, on such vague and probably false rumors, +to write to his brother. ‘If you send a letter,’ said I, ‘it will +bear the impress of the excitement which has dictated it; as regards +a separation, it will be time, after mature consideration, to speak of +it.’ + +“These last words made an impression on him which I had not expected so +soon to see; he became perfectly calm, and listened to me as if he +felt the need of receiving words of encouragement, and after this +conversation he never again alluded to the subject. Fourteen days after, +before Acre, he manifested to me the most violent displeasure against +Junot, complained of the sufferings which such indiscreet revelations +had caused him, and which he now considered as purely an invention +of malice. I afterward noticed that he did not forgive Junot this +stupidity. It is easy to understand why Josephine, when she learned from +Napoleon this conduct of Junot, never could feel for him a very warm +interest, or intercede in his favor.” [Footnote: Bourrienne, “Memoires,” + vol. ii., p. 212.] + +It will be seen that the very sensitive heart of Bonaparte had again +been kindled into jealousy, as it so often had happened before in Italy. +Absence--a momentary separation--was enough to enkindle these flames. We +have seen in the letters which Bonaparte wrote to Josephine during the +Italian campaign, how her silence--the least delay in her answering +his letters--was enough for him to incriminate her, on account of his +jealous affections; how, because she does not constantly write, he +threatens to rush in some night unexpectedly, and with the rage of +jealousy force the doors open, and murder “the young lover of eighteen, +and curse Josephine because he must love her without bounds.” + +Now he swears to root out this detestable race of seducers and blondins +who have beguiled from him the heart of his Josephine. Full of passion +and jealousy, he believes in the calumnies which Junot, with all the +cruel inconsiderateness of a trusty friend, has whispered to him, and at +once Josephine is guilty! She has had a love-correspondence with Charles +Botot, the blond private secretary of Barras, for Charles Botot comes +sometimes to Malmaison, and has often been seen near Josephine and her +daughter Hortense in her loge! But by degrees comes reflection, and a +fortnight after he believes that malice alone can have invented these +calumnies. This noble conviction, however, was soon to be shaken by the +enemy, for Josephine had enemies quite near Bonaparte, who longed to +draw away from her a husband’s heart and to drive him into a divorce. + +First of all there were the whole family of Bonaparte, who had seen with +unwillingness Napoleon’s marriage, for he was thereby much less under +their influence, and they had wished that he would at all events have +married Desiree Clary, the sister of Joseph’s wife, and thus have been +more closely united to the family. + +But, while he was in Egypt, another powerful enemy had been added to +these. This was a young and beautiful woman, Madame Foures, the beloved +of the ardent general. + +While Bonaparte, with all the madness of jealousy at a mere groundless +calumny, which had come across the sea distorted and magnified, +wished to be divorced from Josephine; while he complained of woman’s +faithlessness, frivolity, and inconstancy; while he cursed all women as +coquettes, he himself was guilty of faithlessness. Forgetting his vows +and his protestations of love for his wife, he had abandoned himself to +a new affection without any regard to public opinion, and even made no +secret of his intrigues. + +Unfortunate Josephine! The fears she had anticipated and dreaded before +accepting Bonaparte’s proffered hand were too soon to be realized. His +heart began to grow cold while her love increased every day with deeper +intensity; he had perchance already read in her amiable countenance the +first signs of age, and he thought it might well be allowed to the young +general not to maintain so strict a fealty to that faithfulness which he +claimed from her. + +But Bonaparte still loved Josephine, although he was unfaithful to her. +Surely this new love might well bear the guilt of the credulousness with +which he judged Josephine, and the word of separation might thus easily +come upon his lips, because the newly-loved one, amid the vows of her +affection, might have whispered it in his ear. + +Madame Foures had an immense advantage over Josephine; she was barely +twenty years old, was bewitchingly beautiful, was a coquette, and--she +was there in Bonaparte’s immediate presence, while the Mediterranean +separated him from Josephine. + +Bonaparte abandoned himself to this new love with all his passionate +nature. Not only did the whole army in Egypt know this, but his foes +also became acquainted with it; and Sir Sidney Smith made use of this +fact to attack his enemy in a way little known to the annals of warfare. +Bonaparte had removed from the Egyptian army Madame Foures’ injured +husband, who held there the rank of a cavalry officer, by sending him +with a message to the Directory. But the vessel in which he had sailed +for France was captured by the English, and Admiral Sidney Smith +undertook, with all the careless, open manner of an Englishman, to make +him fully acquainted with the relations existing between his wife and +General Bonaparte. + +He then gave to M. Foures, who was beside himself with anger and wrath, +and who threatened bloody vengeance, his freedom, and exhibited his +good-will toward him so far as to have him landed near Cairo, where +Bonaparte then was with his beautiful mistress. + +Enraged with jealousy, M. Foures rushed to his wife, to make to her the +most violent demonstrations. Perhaps too weak to part with an adored, +beautiful wife, he simply ordered her to return with him to France. + +But Madame Foures made resistance. She called her mighty lover to her +help; she claimed a separation; and the war-commissioner Duprat, who +in the army was invested with the functions of a civil magistrate, +pronounced, at the request of Madame Foures and at the order of +Bonaparte, the decree of separation. + +Madame Foures was free, but this did not satisfy the secret wishes of +her heart. The most important point was, that Bonaparte should be free +also, that he also should desire to be divorced. Josephine must be +removed from him and thrust aside, so that the beautiful Pauline Foures +might take her place. + +No means, either of coquetry, tears, flatteries, or promises of enduring +love, remained untried to induce Bonaparte to take the decisive step. +Sometimes Pauline would pout; sometimes her eyes shed the tears of +repentance over her own faithlessness, and she vowed she would take +refuge in a cloister if Bonaparte would not restore her to honor by +exalting her to the position of being his wife; sometimes she sought by +her cheerful humor, her genial abandonment, to bind him to her, to amuse +him; and sometimes, when dressed as a general, on a fiery horse, and +surrounded by a vast number of adjutants, she would ride up to him and +win by her smiles and flatteries friends, who calumniated Josephine, +and represented to him the necessity of a separation from his inconstant +wife. + +But, notwithstanding all the calumnies, and all the deceiving arts of +his beloved, there existed in Bonaparte’s heart something which spoke +in favor of the poor, slandered, and forgotten Josephine; and, amid +the exciting pleasures of his new passion, he remembered with longing, +sorrowful heart the charming, gracious woman whom he once had tenderly +loved, and whom he still so loved that he could not sacrifice her to +his beautiful mistress. Still he persevered in showing to the latter the +deepest, most tender, and undivided attention; and when the chances of +war kept him away from her for a long time, when he went to Syria and +left her in Cairo, Bonaparte wrote to her every day the most touching +letters, which were forwarded by a special courier. + +This was occurring at the same time that Josephine in Paris was hoping +in vain with painful longing for letters from her husband, and was +watching over his interests with the kindest attention, while his +enemies were spreading news of his death. + +Bonaparte had now no time to write to his wife, for the beautiful +Pauline Foures laid claim to the little leisure which remained to the +commanding general, and to her he addressed warm and glowing words of +love, such as while in Italy he had addressed to Josephine when he swore +to her never to love another woman. + +Meanwhile Fate rendered fruitless all the efforts of the beautiful +Madame Foures to draw Bonaparte into a separation; Fate came to +Josephine’s rescue, and, strange to say, it came in the shape of the +Frankfort Journal. + +The victorious battle of Aboukir, which Bonaparte, on the 25th of July, +1799, had with his army won over the enemy, gave occasion to parleying +negotiations between the French commander-in-chief and the English +admiral, Sidney Smith. Bonaparte sent a commissioner on board the +English flag-ship, and Sir Sidney Smith was cunning enough to send +through this commissioner to the French general a few newspapers +recently received from Europe. For ten months the French army and +Bonaparte were without news from France, and this present of the English +admiral was received by Bonaparte and his generals with the deepest joy +and curiosity. + +Among these papers was a copy of the Journal de Frankfort of the 10th of +June, 1799. This was the first newspaper which furnished Bonaparte with +news from France for ten long months, and the natural consequence was +that he glanced over it with the most inquisitive impatience. Suddenly +he uttered a cry; the pallor of death overspread his face, and, fixing +his flaming eyes on Bourrienne, who at this moment was alone with +him--“My presentiments have not deceived me,” exclaimed Bonaparte. +“Italy is lost! The wretched creatures! All the results of our +victories have vanished! I must go to France at once--this very moment!” + [Footnote: Bourrienne, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 305.] + +This newspaper informed Bonaparte of the late events in France. It told +him that the French Directory had experienced a change, that only one of +them, Barras, had remained in it, and that four new directors--Sieyes, +Grohier, Moulins, and Ducos--were now its members. It told him much +more--that the French army in Italy had suffered the most disastrous +reverses; that all Italy had been reconquered by the combined armies of +Russia and Austria under Suwarrow and the Archduke Charles, who were +now advancing upon France, which was on every side surrounded by the +revengeful enemies of the republic. + +No sooner had Bonaparte read this news than his decision was taken. +Berthier was called into his tent, and under the seal of silence +Bonaparte communicated to him his unwavering resolution of going +immediately to France, but that this was to remain a secret to his +whole army as well as all the generals. Berthier, Gautheaume, Eugene +Beauharnais, Monge, and Bourrienne, were alone to accompany him, but the +last two were not to be made acquainted with their departure for Europe +before they had left Cairo with Bonaparte. As he noticed gleams of joy +in Berthier’s face at the news of returning to France, Bonaparte once +more impressed upon him the duty of preserving silence and not to betray +the secret by word or deed, and to do nothing which might induce friends +or acquaintances to believe that a voyage was contemplated. The secret +was indeed faithfully kept, and the few confidants intrusted with it +took great care to divulge nothing, for fear he might punish them by +leaving them in Egypt. + +Bonaparte himself maintained the most absolute secrecy; neither his +beloved, the beautiful Pauline Foures, nor General Kleber, whom he had +chosen to be his successor in the chief command of the army of Egypt, +suspected any thing. + +To his beloved, Bonaparte said he was leaving Cairo for the sake of +making a tour through the Delta, and that in a few weeks he would be +with her again. The news he had received from Europe had suddenly cooled +the glow of his passion, and, at the thought of returning to France, +rose up again before his mind the image of Josephine in all her grace +and loveliness. For a long time, while she was not at his side, he had +been unfaithful to her, but he did not wish, for his own sake, to add +scandal to faithlessness. He did not wish to bring to France with him, +as sole booty from Egypt, a mistress. + +Pauline Foures, therefore, suspected as little of his plans as General +Kleber. It was only after Bonaparte, with his small suite of five +confidants and the Mameluke Roustan, had embarked at Alexandria, that +Pauline learned that he had deserted--that he had abandoned her. In +a short note which his master of the stall, Vigogne, handed to her, +Bonaparte took leave of her, and made her a present of every thing he +left behind in Cairo, including the house he occupied, with all its +costly and luxurious furniture. [Footnote: The departure of Bonaparte +made Madame Foures comfortless, and she now watched for an opportunity +to hasten back to him in France. Touched by her tears and prayers, +Junot furnished her with an opportunity, and Pauline reached Paris in +November, 1799. But Bonaparte would no longer see her; he now sacrificed +the mistress to the wife, as he had nearly sacrificed the wife to the +mistress. Pauline received orders to leave Paris immediately; at the +same time Bonaparte sent her a large sum of money, which he afterward +repeated.--See Saint Elsne, “Les Amours et Galanteries des Rois de +France,” vol. ii., p. 320.] + +General Kleber learned Bonaparte’s departure, only through the orders +sent to him by the latter to assume the chief command of the army; his +troops learned his absence by the order of the day, in which Bonaparte +bade them farewell. + +After four weeks of a long voyage against tempestuous and contrary +winds, the two frigates, upon one of which Bonaparte and Eugene and his +other followers had embarked, touched at Ajaccio. The whole population +had no sooner learned that Bonaparte was in the harbor, than they rushed +out to see him, and to salute him with enthusiastic demonstrations; +and it was in vain that their attention was drawn to the fact that both +frigates had come directly from Egypt, and had to observe quarantine +before any communication with the population could be allowed. + +“Pestilence sooner than the Austrians!” shouted the people, and hundreds +and hundreds of boats surrounded the French vessels. Every one wanted +to see the general, their famous countryman, Bonaparte. But Bonaparte’s +heart was sorrowful amid the general rejoicing, for in Ajaccio he had +learned of the great battle of Novi, where the Austrians had gained the +victory, and which had cost General Joubert’s life. + +“It is too great an evil,” said he, with a sigh; “there is no help for +it.” But as he gave up Italy, all his thoughts were more strongly bent +upon Paris, and his desire to be there as soon as possible increased +more and more. + +After a short stay in Ajaccio, the voyage to France, despite all +quarantine regulations, was continued, and the star of fortune, which +had hitherto protected him, still guided Bonaparte safely into the +harbor of Frejus, though the English fleet had watched and pursued the +French vessels. A courier was at once dispatched to the Directory in +Paris to announce the arrival of Bonaparte, and that he would, without +any delay, come to Paris. + +Josephine was at a dinner at Gohier’s, one of the five directors, when +this courier arrived, and with a shout of joy she received the news of +her husband’s coming. Her longing was such that she could not wait for +him in Paris, in her house of the Rue de la Victoire. She resolved to +meet him, and to be the first to bid him welcome, and to show him her +unutterable love. + +No sooner was this resolution taken than it was carried out. She began +her journey with the expectation of meeting her husband at Lyons, for +in his letter to the Directory he stated that he would come by way of +Lyons. In great haste, without rest or delay, Josephine travelled the +road to that city, her heart beating, her luminous eyes gazing onward, +looking with inexpressible expectancy at every approaching carriage, for +it might bring her the husband so long absent from her! + +She little suspected that while she was hastening toward Lyons, +Bonaparte had already arrived in Paris. He had changed the plan of +his journey, and, entirely controlled by his impatient desires, he +had driven to Paris by the shortest route. Josephine was not there to +receive him in her house; she was not there to welcome the returning +one--and the old serpent of jealousy and mistrust awoke again within +him. To add to this, his brothers and sisters had seized the occasion to +give vent to their ill-will by suspicions and accusations against their +unwelcome sister-in-law. Bonaparte, full of sad apprehension at her +absence, perhaps secretly wishing to find her guilty, listened to the +whisperings of her enemies. + +He therefore did not go to meet Josephine the next day on her return +from her unsuccessful journey. A few hours after, he opened his closed +doors and went to see her. She advanced toward him with looks full of +love and tenderness, and opened her arms to him, and wanted to press him +closely to her heart. + +But he coldly held her back, and with deliberate severity and an +expression of the highest indifference, he saluted her, and asked if she +had returned happy and satisfied from her pleasure excursion with her +light-haired friend. + +Josephine’s tears gushed forth, and, as if annihilated, she sank down, +but she had not a word of defence or of justification against the cruel +accusation. Her heart had been too deeply wounded, her love too +much insulted, to allow her to defend herself. Her tearful eyes only +responded to Bonaparte’s cruel question, and then in silence she retired +to her apartments. + +For three days they did not see each other. Josephine remained in her +rooms and wept. Bonaparte remained in his rooms and complained. To +Bourrienne, who then was not only his private secretary but also his +confidant, he complained bitterly of the faithlessness and inconstancy +of Josephine, of the unheard-of indifference that she should undertake +a pleasure-journey when she knew that he was soon to be in Paris. It +was in vain that Bourrienne assured him that Josephine had undertaken no +pleasure-excursion, that she had left Paris only to meet him, and to +be the first to bid him welcome. He would not believe him, for in the +melancholy gloominess of his jealousy he believed in the slanders which +Josephine’s enemies, and his brothers and sisters, had whispered in his +ear, that Josephine had left Paris for a parti de plaisir with Charles +Botot, the beautiful blondin whom Bonaparte so deeply hated. How +profound his sadness was, may be seen by a letter which at this time he +wrote to his brother Joseph, and in which he says: + +“I have a great deal of domestic sorrow ... your friendship to me is +very dear; to become a misanthrope, there was nothing further needed +than to lose her and to be betrayed by you. It is a sad situation indeed +to have in one single heart all these emotions for the same person. + +“I will purchase a country residence either near Paris or in Burgundy; +I am thinking of passing the winter there and of shutting myself up; +I feel weary with human nature; I need solitude; I want to be alone; +grandeur oppresses me, my feelings are distorted. Fame appears insipid +at my twenty-nine years; I have tried every thing; nothing remains but +to become an egotist.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph.” vol. i., p. +189.] + +But, according to himself, “he cherished in his heart, at the same +time; all manner of emotions for the same person;” that is, he hated and +detested Josephine, but he also loved and admired her; was angry with +her, and yet longed for her; he found her frivolous and faithless, and +yet something in his heart ever spoke in her favor, and assured him that +she was a noble and faithful being. + +Fortunately, there was one who confirmed into full conviction these low +whisperings of his heart; fortunately, Bourrienne ceased not to argue +against this jealousy of Bonaparte, and to assure him again and again +that Josephine was innocent, that she had committed nothing to excite +his anger. + +Finally, after three days of complaints and dreary accusations, love +conquered in the heart of Bonaparte. He went to Josephine. She advanced +to meet him with tears in her eyes, but with a soft, tender smile. The +sight of her gracious appearance, her blanched cheeks, moved him, and, +instead of explanations and mutual recriminations, he opened his arms to +her, and she threw herself on his breast with a loud cry of exultation. + +Then came the explanations. He now believed that she had left Paris +hurriedly for the sake of meeting him; and, as regarded the dangerous +“blond,” the private secretary of Barras, M. Charles Botot, Josephine +smilingly handed to her husband a letter she had received from him a +few days before. In this letter Charles Botot acknowledged his +long-cherished affection for her daughter Hortense, and he claimed her +hand in due form. + +“And you have doubtless accepted his offer?” asked Bonaparte, his face +overcast again. “Since, unfortunately, you are married yourself, and he +cannot be your husband, then of course he must marry the daughter, so +as to be always near the mother. M. Charles Botot is no doubt to be your +son-in-law? You have accepted his hand?” + +“No,” said she, softly, “we have refused it, for Hortense does not love +him, and she will follow her mother’s example, and marry only through +love. Besides,” continued Josephine, with a sweet smile, “I wanted him +no longer.” + +“You wanted him no longer! How is this?” asked General Bonaparte, +eagerly. + +“Barras has sent him his dismissal,” said she, looking at her husband +with an expression of cunning roguery. “M. Botot could no longer, as he +has hitherto been--without, however, being conscious of it--be my spy in +the Directory; I could no longer learn from him what the Directory were +undertaking against my Bonaparte, against the hero whom they envy and +caluminate so much, nor in what new snares they wished to entangle him! +What had I to do with Botot, since he could not furnish me news of the +intrigues of your enemies, nor afford me the chance of counteracting +them? Charles Botot was nothing more to me than a mere lemon, which I +squeezed for your sake; when there was nothing left in it I threw it +away.” + +“And is such the truth?” asked Bonaparte, eagerly. “This is no invention +to raise my hopes, only to be cast down again?” + +Josephine smiled. “I have daily taken notes of what Charles Botot +brought me,” said she, gently; “I always hoped to find a safe +opportunity to send this diary to you in Egypt, that you might be +informed of what the Directory thought, and what was the public opinion, +so that you might take your measures accordingly. But, for the last +eight months, I knew not where you were, and so I have kept my diary: +here it is.” + +She gave the diary to Bonaparte, who, with impatient looks, ran over the +pages, and was fully convinced of her devotedness and care. Josephine +had well served his interests, and closely watched over his affairs. +Then, ashamed and repentant, he looked at her, who, in return, smiled at +him with gracious complacency. + +“Josephine,” asked he, quietly, “can you forgive me? I have been +foolish, but I swear to you that never again will I mistrust you, I will +believe no one but you. Can you forgive me?” + +She embraced him in her arms, and tenderly said: “Love me, Bonaparte; I +well deserve it!” + +Peace, therefore, was re-established, and Josephine’s enemies had the +bitter disappointment to see that their efforts had all been in vain; +that again the most perfect unanimity and affection existed between +them; that the cloud which their enmity had conjured up, had brought +forth but a few tear-drops, a few thunderings; and that the love which +Bonaparte carried in his heart for Josephine was not scattered into +atoms. + +The cloud had passed away; the sun of happiness had reappeared; but it +had yet some spots which were never to fade away. The word “separation” + which Bonaparte, so often in Egypt, and now in Paris, had launched +against Josephine, was to be henceforth the sword of Damocles, ever +suspended over her head: like a dark, shadowy spectre it was to follow +her everywhere; even amid scenes of happiness, joy, and glory, it was +to be there to terrify her by its sinister presence, and by its gloomy +warnings of the past! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE EIGHTEENTH BRUMAIRE. + + +Bonaparte’s journey from Frejus to Paris, on his return from Egypt, had +been a continued triumph. All France had applauded him. Everywhere he +had been welcomed as a deliverer and savior; everywhere he had been +hailed as the hope of the future, as the man from whom was to be +expected assistance in distress, the restoration of peace, help, and +salvation. + +For France was alarmed; she stood on the edge of a precipice, from which +only the strong hand of a hero could save her. In the interior, anarchy +prevailed amongst the authorities as well as the people. In La Vendee +civil war raged, with all its sanguinary horrors, and the authorities +endeavored to protect themselves against it by tyrannical laws, by +despotic measures, which threatened both property and freedom. There +existed no security either for person or for property, and a horrible, +fanatical party-spirit penetrated all classes of society. The royalists +had been defeated on the 18th Fructidor, but that very fact had again +given the vantage-ground to the most decided opponents of the royalists, +the red republicans, the terrorists of the past, who now intrigued and +formed plots and counterplots, even as the royalists had done. They +sought to create enmity and bitterness amongst the people, and hoped +to re-establish on the ruins of the present administration the days of +terror and of the guillotine. + +These red republicans, ever ready for the struggle, organized themselves +into clubs and “constitutional circles,” where the ruin of the actual +state of things, and the severe and bloody republic of Robespierre, +formed the substance of their harangues; and their numbers were +constantly increased by new members being sworn in. + +The ballot in May, 1799, had been in favor of the Directory, and +unfavorable to the moderate party, for only fanatical republicans had +been elected to the Council of Five Hundred. + +Against these factions and republican clubs the Directory had to make a +perpetual war: but their power and means failed to give them the victory +in the strife. It was a constant oscillation and vacillation, a +constant compromising and capitulating with all parties--and the natural +consequence was, that these parties, as soon as they had secured the +ear of the Directory, and gained an advantage, strove hard to obtain the +ruling authority. Corruption and mistrust universally prevailed. +Every thing had the appearance of dissolution and disorder. Highwaymen +rendered the roads unsafe; and the authorities, instead of carrying out +the severity of the law, were so corrupt and avaricious as to sell their +silence and indulgence. The upright citizen sighed under the weight +of tyrannical laws from which the thief and the seditious knew how to +escape. + +The nation, reduced to despair by this arbitrary rule and corruption, +longed for some one to deliver it from this dreadful state of +dissolution; and the enthusiasm which was manifested at the return of +General Bonaparte, was a confession that in him the people foresaw and +recognized a deliverer. Exhausted and wearied, France sought for a man +who would restore to her peace again--who would crush the foes within, +and drive away the enemy from without. + +Bonaparte appeared to the people with all the prestige of his former and +recent victories; he had planted the victorious French tricolor upon the +summit of the capitol, and of the pyramids; he had given to France the +most acceptable of presents, “glory;” he had adorned her brow with so +many laurels, that he himself seemed to the people as if radiant with +glory. All felt the need of a hero, of a dictator, to put an end to the +prevailing anarchy and disturbances, and they knew that Bonaparte was +the only one who could achieve this gigantic work. + +Bonaparte understood but too well these applauding and welcoming voices +of the people, and his own breast responded favorably to them. The +secret thoughts of his heart were now to be turned into deeds, and the +ambitious dreams of his earlier days were to become realities. All +that he had hitherto wanted was a bridge to throw over the abyss which +separated the republicans, the defenders of liberty, equality, and +fraternity, from rule, power, and dictatorship. Anarchy and exhaustion +laid down this bridge, and on the 18th Brumaire, General Bonaparte, the +hero of “liberal ideas,” passed over it to exalt himself into dictator, +consul, emperor, and tyrant of France. + +But the Directory also understood the voices of the applauding people; +they also saw in him the man who had come to deprive them of power and +to assume their authority. This was secretly yet violently discussed by +the Directory, the Council of the Elders, and of the Five Hundred. + +One day, at a dinner given to a few friends by the Abbe Sieyes, one of +the members of the Directory, the abbe, Cabanis, and Joseph Bonaparte, +were conversing together, standing on the side of the drawing-room, near +the chimney. It was conceded that undoubtedly a crisis was near at hand, +that the republic had now reached its limit, and that, instead of five +directors, only three would be elected, and that, without any doubt, +Bonaparte would be one of the three. + +“Yes,” cried Sieyes, with animation, “I am for General Bonaparte, for of +all military men he is the most civil; but then I know very well what +is in reserve for me: once elected, the general, casting aside his two +colleagues, will do as I do now.” And Sieyes, standing between Canabis +and Joseph, placed his two arms on their shoulders, then, pushing them +with a powerful jerk, he leaped forward and bounded into the middle +of the room, to the great astonishment of his guests, who knew not the +cause of this gymnastic performance of the abbe. [Footnote: “Memoires du +Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 77.] + +The other directors were also conscious of this movement of Bonaparte, +and they secretly resolved to save themselves by causing his ruin. +Either the Directory or Bonaparte had to fall! One had to perish, that +the other might have the power! In order that the Directory might exist, +Bonaparte must fall. + +The Directory had secretly come to this conclusion on Bonaparte’s +return. They were fully aware that a daring act alone could save them, +and they were determined not to shrink from it. + +The deed was to take place on the 2d Brumaire. On that day he was to be +arrested, and accused of having premeditated a coup d’etat against the +Directory. Indeed, one M. de Mounier had come to Director Gohier and had +denounced Bonaparte, whom he positively knew was conspiring to destroy +the existing government. Gohier received these accusations with much +gravity, and sent at once for the other directors to hasten to him, +but only one, Moulins, was then in Paris to answer Gohier’s summons. He +came, and after a long conference both directors agreed that the next +day they would have Bonaparte arrested on his return to Paris from +Malmaison, where they knew he was to give a large banquet that day. They +sent for the chief of police, and quietly gave him the order to station +himself the next day with twelve resolute men on the road to Malmaison, +and to arrest Bonaparte as he should drive that evening toward Paris. + +On this very day Josephine, who did not wish to be present at the +banquet of gentlemen in Malmaison, had come to Paris to attend a party +at the house of one of her friends. The conversation went on; they +talked and jested, when a gentleman near Josephine told a friend that +some striking event would probably take place that day in Paris, for he +had just now met a friend who held an important office in the police. He +had invited him to go to the theatre, but he declined, stating that he +was to be on duty this evening, as some important affair was about being +transacted--the arrest, as he thought, of some influential personage. + +Josephine’s heart trembled with horrible misgivings at these words. +Love’s instinct convinced her that her husband was the one to be +arrested, and she thought within herself that it was Destiny itself +which sent her this intelligence, that she might save her husband from +the fearful blow which awaited him. Thus persuaded, she gathered all her +strength and presence of mind, and determined to act with energy, +and battle against the enemies of her husband. Without betraying the +slightest emotion, or exciting any suspicion that she had heard or +noticed what was said, Josephine rose from her seat with a cheerful +and composed countenance, and pleasantly took leave of the lady of the +house. But once past the threshold of the house, once in her carriage, +her anxious nature woke up again, and she began to act with energy and +resolution. She pulled the string, to give her directions to the driver. +As fast as the horses could speed, he was to drive his mistress to +Colonel Perrin, the commanding officer of the guards of the Directory. +In ten minutes she was there, and knowing well how devoted a guard he +and all his soldiers would be to Bonaparte, she communicated to him her +fears, and requested from him immediate and speedy assistance to remove +the danger. + +Colonel Perrin was prepared to enter into her plans, and he promised to +send to Malmaison a company of grenadiers, provided she would, as +soon as possible, have General Murat send him an order to that effect. +Josephine at once went to one of her true, reliable friends, who +belonged to the Council of the Elders, and, making him acquainted with +the danger which threatened her husband, requested him to gather a few +devoted friends, and to attend to the orders which Murat would send +them. + +After having made all these preparations, Josephine drove in full gallop +toward Malmaison. + +The dinner, to which Bonaparte had invited gentlemen from all classes +of society, was just over, and the guests were scattered, some in the +drawing-rooms, and some in the garden, where Bonaparte was walking up +and down in animated conversation with the secretary, Roger Ducos. + +At this moment the carriage of Josephine drove into the yard; and Murat, +who, with a few gentlemen, stood under the porch, hastened to offer his +hand so as to help Josephine to alight. An eye-witness who was present +at this scene relates as follows: + +“‘Where is the general?’ asked Josephine, hastily, of General Murat. + +“‘I do not know,’ was the answer; ‘he is gone with Roger, but Lucien is +here.’ + +“‘Look at once for the general!’ exclaimed Josephine, breathless, ‘I +must speak to him immediately.’ + +“I approached her and said that he was in the garden. She ran--she +flew! I placed myself at a window in the first story, from which I could +easily see into the garden-walks. My expectations had not deceived me. + +“No sooner did Bonaparte see Josephine approach, than he left Roger +Ducos and hurried to meet her. Both then walked into a path near by. I +could see them well. Josephine spoke with animation; the general walked +on; now and then she held him back. At last they took the path leading +to the castle. I went down to meet them on the steps near the door. + +“Madame Bonaparte held her husband by the left hand. Her animated, +expressive features had a bewitching pride and softness; it was a most +delightful admixture of tenderness and heroism. Bonaparte looked around, +pale and grave, but his eyes ever rested with pleasure on his wife. She +refused to enter into the large hall, and retired to her room. Bonaparte +called for Roger, and entered the saloon with him. His guests were +awaiting his arrival, to take their leave. The carriages drove up, and +the gentlemen left Malmaison to return to Paris. Only Lucien and Murat +remained with Bonaparte; Madame Bonaparte joined them as they entered +the vestibule. When she saw Murat, she exclaimed: + +“‘How, general, you still here!--Do you not consider,’ continued she, +turning to Bonaparte, ‘that Murat ought to be already in Paris with +Perrin?--Away! quick! to horse, to the Rue Varennes, or I drive thither +myself.’ + +“Murat laughed; but four minutes after he was riding at a gallop on +the road to the city. The three others returned to their rooms. I was +curious to know what was the conversation; but as I had nothing more to +do in the castle, I was about leaping on my horse to ride to Paris, when +I saw a detachment of infantry marching toward the castle. + +“I thought it my duty to announce them to the general; he sat between +his wife and his brother. ‘How!’ cried he, as he rose up hastily. +‘Troops?’ + +“‘What of them?’ answered Madame Bonaparte, smiling. ‘Your company has +left you, now comes mine. It is a rendezvous; but be comforted--they are +not too many.’ + +“All three walked into the yard, where the troops were placing +themselves in line without the sound of a drum. + +“‘You are an extraordinary man, sir,’ said Madame Bonaparte to the +captain. ‘Nearly as soon as I?’ + +“‘Madame,’ replied the officer, ‘we have been ready for the march these +four hours.’ + +“The officers followed the general into the drawing-room, and +refreshments were distributed to the soldiers; it was a company of +grenadiers. + +“At nine o’clock in the evening, a courier arrived, bearing dispatches +to Bonaparte. At once he, his wife, and his brother, drove to Paris. +The grenadiers were ordered to follow immediately and in silence.” + [Footnote: “Memoires secretes,” vol. i., p. 26.] + +These dispatches, which Bonaparte had received from Paris, brought him +the news that this time the danger was over--that the directors had +abandoned their plan. Some fortunate accident may have warned them, even +as Josephine herself had been warned. The spies who everywhere tracked +Josephine, as well as Bonaparte, had carried to Gohier intelligence of +all the strange movements of the wife of Bonaparte, and the director at +once perceived that she was informed of the danger which threatened her +husband, and that she was bent upon preventing it. + +But now that the plan of the directors had been unveiled, danger +threatened them in their turn, and they immediately adopted measures to +face this new peril. In place of Bonaparte, they must find some one +whom they could arrest, without withdrawing their orders. They found a +substitute in a wealthy merchant from Hamburg, who now resided in Paris. +Gohier had him arrested, and accused him of having had relations with +the enemies of France. + +Bonaparte assumed the appearance of having no doubts as to the sincerity +of Gohier, of suspecting nothing as to his own arrest, which had been +prevented by the timely and energetic action of Josephine. He thanked +her with increased tenderness for her love and faithfulness, and as he +pressed her affectionately to his breast, he swore to her that he would +never again doubt her; that he would, by the most unreserved confidence, +share with her his schemes and designs, and that henceforth he would +look upon her as the good angel who watched over the pathway of his +life. + +And Bonaparte kept his word. From this day his Josephine was not only +his wife, but his confidante, his friend, who knew all his plans, and +who could assist him with her advice and her exquisite practical +tact. She it was who brought about a reconciliation with Moreau and +Bernadotte; and by her amiable nature, attractive and dignified +manner, and great social talents, she bound even his friends closer to +Bonaparte; or with a smile, a kind word, some flattering observation, or +some of those little attentions which often-times tell more effectually +with those who receive them than great services, she would often win +over to him his foes and opponents. + +“It is known but to few persons,” says the author of the “Memoires +secretes,” “that Bonaparte always consulted his wife in civil matters, +even when they were of the highest importance. This fact is entirely +true, but Bonaparte would have been extremely mortified had he known +that those around him suspected it. Had it been possible for me to +divide my being, with what delight I should have followed this noble +woman! I would relate a few traits of hers if I did not know that M. +D. B., who is much better acquainted with her than I, is to write a +biography. [Footnote: The “Memoires secretes” appeared in 1815. The +biography spoken of by the author is probably that of Madame Ducrest, +and which appeared in 1818.] I know not what were the events of the +first years of Madame de Beauharnais, but if they were like those of her +last fifteen years, we should have the history of a perfect woman. She +has known but little of me, and therefore no interested motive guides +my pen, no other sentiment than that of truth.” [Footnote: “Memoires +secretes,” vol. i., p. 36.] + +The 2d Brumaire afforded sufficient reasons for Bonaparte to put into +execution his resolutions. He now knew the enmity of the Directory; +he knew he must cause their downfall if he himself did not wish to +be destroyed by them. He knew that, during his last triumphal journey +through France, he had heard sufficient to convince him that the voice +of the people was for him, that every one longed for a change, that +France was heartily wearied of revolutionary commotions, and above +all things craved for rest and peace; that it wished to lay aside all +political strife, and, like him, preferred to have nothing more to do +with a republican majority. + +“Every one desires a more central government,” said Napoleon to his +brother Joseph. “Our dreams of a republic are the illusions of youth. +Since the 9th Thermidor the republican party has dwindled away more and +more; the efforts of the Bourbons and the foreigners, coupled with the +memories of ‘93, have called forth against the republican system an +imposing majority. If it had not been for the 13th Vendemiaire and the +18th Fructidor, this majority would long ago have won the ascendency; +the weaknesses, the imperiousness of the Directory, have done the rest. +To-day the people are turning their hopes toward me, to-morrow it will +be toward some one else.” + +Bonaparte did not wish to wait until to-morrow. He had made all his +preparations; he had made sure of his generals and officers; he knew +also that the soldiers were for him, and that it required but a signal +from him to bring about the catastrophe. + +He gave the signal by inviting on the 18th Brumaire, to a dejeuner in +his house, all his confidants and friends, all the generals and superior +officers, and also the commanding general of the National Guards. Nearly +all of them came at this invitation; only General Bernadotte kept aloof, +as he perceived that the breakfast had other objects than to converse +and to eat. Sieyes and Ducos were the only directors who made their +appearance; Gohier, that morning, had sent to Bonaparte an invitation +to dinner, so as to deceive the more securely him whom he knew was his +enemy; Barras and Moulins, suspecting Bonaparte’s schemes, remained in +the background, silently awaiting the result. + +While the guests were assembling in Bonaparte’s house, and filling all +the space in it, a friend and confidant of Bonaparte, in the Council of +the Elders, made the following motion: “In consideration of the intense +political excitement which prevails in Paris, it is necessary to remove +the sessions to St. Cloud, and to give to General Bonaparte the supreme +command of the troops.” + +After a violent debate, the motion was suddenly adopted; and, when it +was brought to Bonaparte, he saw that the moment for action had come. + +He told all those about him that at last the time was at hand to restore +to France rest and peace, that he was decided to do this, and he called +upon them to follow him. Every one was ready, and, surrounded by a +brilliant suite, Bonaparte went first to the Council of the Elders, to +express his thanks for his nomination, and solemnly to swear that he +would adopt every measure necessary to save the country. + +Immediately after this he went to the Tuileries to hold a review of the +troops stationed there. The soldiers and the people, who had streamed +thither in masses to see him, received him with loud acclamations, +assuring him of their loyalty and devotedness. + +No one this day rose in favor of the deputies, no one seemed to desire +that their sittings should as heretofore take place in Paris, nor to +think that force would have to be used to remove them. + +The palace of Luxemburg, in which their sittings had hitherto taken +place, and St. Cloud, in which they were to meet in the future, were +both, by orders of Bonaparte, surrounded with troops, and the deputies +as well as the Council of the Elders adjourned that very day to St. +Cloud. + +Moulins and Gohier alone had the courage to offer opposition, and, in +a letter to the Council of the Elders, to describe Bonaparte as a +criminal, who threatened the republic, and to demand of them his arrest; +and also that they should immediately decree that the republic was in +danger, and that it must be defended with all energy. But this letter +fell into Bonaparte’s hands; and the directors, when they saw that their +request was unheeded, resigned, as Barras had done. + +The republic now had but two legitimate rulers, Sieyes and Ducos; and at +their side stood Bonaparte, soon to exalt himself above them. + +The following day, the 19th Brumaire, was actually the decisive day. +The Five Hundred, who now, like the Council of the Elders, held their +deliberations in St. Cloud, were discussing under great excitement the +abdication of the Directory and the necessity of a new election. The +debates were so vehement and so full of passion that the president, +Lucien Bonaparte, could not command order. A wild uproar arose, and at +this moment Napoleon entered the hall. Every one rushed at him with wild +frenzy; and the most violent recriminations were launched at him. “He +is a traitor!” they cried out. “He is a Cromwell, who wants to seize +the sovereign power!” What Bonaparte had never experienced on the +battle-field, in the thickest of the fight, he now felt. He became +bewildered by this violent strife of words, by this hailstorm of +accusations which whizzed around his ears. He tried to speak; he +tried to address the audience, but he could not--he could merely +give utterance to a few broken sentences; he made charges against the +Directory, with assurances of his own loyalty and devotedness, which +the audience received with loud murmurs, and then with wild shouts. +Bonaparte became more embarrassed and bewildered. Suddenly turning +toward the door of the hall, he exclaimed, “Who loves me, let him follow +me!” and he walked out hastily. + +The soldiers outside received him with great cheers, and this brought +back Bonaparte’s presence of mind. “General,” whispered Augereau, as +they mounted their horses, “you are in a critical position.” + +“Think of Arcola,” replied Bonaparte, calmly. “There the position seemed +still more critical. Have patience for half an hour, and you will see +how things change.” + +Bonaparte made good use of this half hour. At its expiration he +re-entered the hall of deliberation of the Five Hundred, surrounded by +his officers, at the very moment when, on a motion of a member, they +were renewing their oaths to the constitution. Again they received +him with shouts: “Down with the tyrant!--down with the dictator! The +sanctity of the law is violated! Death to the tyrant who brings soldiers +here to do us violence!” + +One of the deputies rushed upon Bonaparte and seized him, but at that +instant the grenadiers also entered the room, delivered their general, +and carried him in triumph out of the hall. + +After his departure, the waves of wrath and political frenzy rose higher +and higher. Shouts and imprecations filled the room with confusion; +reproaches fell on all sides upon the president, Lucien Bonaparte, for +not having immediately ordered the arrest of the traitor, who by his +appearance, as well as by his armed escort, had insulted the assembly. +When Lucien endeavored to defend Napoleon’s conduct, he was interrupted +by the cries: “He is a stain on the republic! He has tarnished his +reputation!” Louder and wilder rose the cry to declare Napoleon an +outlaw. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph.”] + +Lucien refused, and, as they urged their demand with increasing +violence, he left the presidential chair, and with deep emotion put +off the insignia of his office--his mantle and his sash--and was at the +point of making for himself an outlet through the wild crowd pressing +in frenzy around him, when the doors opened, and a company of grenadiers +rushed in, who by main force carried him away out of the hall. + +Lucien, whom Napoleon awaited outside with his troops, immediately +mounted his horse, and in this moment of deepest danger kept his +presence of mind, being fully aware that he must now be decided to save +himself and his brother or perish with him. He turned to the troops, and +ordered them to protect the president of the Five Hundred, to defend the +constitution attacked by a few fanatics, and to obey General Bonaparte, +who was empowered by the Council of the Elders to arrest the seditious, +and to protect the republic and its laws. + +The soldiers answered him with the acclamation, “Long live Bonaparte!” + But a certain shudder was visible. A few warning voices were lifted +up; they thought it strange that weapons should be directed against the +representatives of the country. + +By a dramatic action Lucien brought the matter to a close, though it +was at the time meant by him in all sincerity. He drew his sword, and, +directing its point toward Napoleon’s breast, he exclaimed: “I swear +to pierce even my brother’s heart if he ever dares touch the liberty of +France!” + +These words had an electric effect; every one felt inspired, lifted up, +and swore to obey Bonaparte, and to remain loyal to him even unto death. +At a sign from Napoleon, Murat, with his grenadiers, dashed into the +hall and drove away the assembly of the Five Hundred. At ten o’clock +that evening St. Cloud was vacant; only a few deputies, like homeless +night-birds, wandered around the palace out of which they had been so +violently ejected. + +In the interior of St. Cloud, Bonaparte was busy preparing for the +people of Paris a proclamation, in which he justified his deed, and +repeated the sacred assurance “that he would protect liberty and the +republic against all her enemies at home as well as abroad.” When this +was done, it was necessary to think of giving to the French people a new +government, instead of the one which had been broken up. Napoleon had +been in conference until the dawn of day with Talleyrand, Roderer, and +Sieyes. Meanwhile Lucien had gathered around him in a room the members +of the Five Hundred who were devoted to him, and had resumed the +presidential chair; Napoleon’s friends among the members of the Council +of the Elders also gathered together, and both assemblies issued a +decree, in which they declared there was no longer a Directory, and in +which they excluded from the assembly as rebellious and factious a +vast number of deputies. And more, they decreed the nomination of a +provisional commission, and decided that it should consist of three +members, who should bear the title of Consuls of the Republic, and they +appointed as consuls Sieyes, Ducos, and Bonaparte. + +At three o’clock in the morning every thing was ready, and Napoleon, +accompanied by Bourrienne, went to Paris. He had reached his goal; he +was at the head of the administration, but his countenance betrayed no +joyous excitement; he was taciturn and pensive, and during the whole +journey to Paris he spoke not a word, but quietly leaned in a corner +of the carriage. Perhaps he dreamed of a great and brilliant future; +perhaps he was busy with the thought how he could ascend higher on this +ladder to a throne, whose first step he had now ascended, since he had +exalted himself into a consul of the republic. + +Not till he arrived at his residence in the Rue de la Victoire did +Bonaparte’s cheerfulness return, when, with countenance beaming +with joy, and followed by Bourrienne, he hastened to Josephine, who, +exhausted by anxiety and care during this day full of danger, had +finally gone to rest. Near her bed Bonaparte sank into an arm-chair, +and, gazing at her and seizing her hand, he turned smilingly to +Bourrienne: + +“Is it not true,” said he--“I said many foolish things?” + +“Well, yes, general, that cannot be denied,” replied Bourrienne, +shrugging his shoulders, while Josephine broke out into loud, joyous +laughter. + +“I would sooner speak to soldiers than to lawyers,” said Bonaparte, +cheerfully. “These honorable fools made me timid. I am not accustomed to +speak to an audience--but that will come in time.” + +With affectionate sympathy Josephine requested him to relate in detail +all the events of the day; and she listened with breathless attention to +the descriptions which Bonaparte made in his own terse, brief, and lucid +manner. + +“And Gohier?” said she, at last--“you know I love his wife, and when you +were in Egypt he was ever kind and attentive to me. You will not touch +him, will you, mon ami?” + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. “What of it, my love?” said he; “it is +not my fault if he is pushed aside. Why has he not wished it otherwise? +He is a good-natured man, but a blockhead. He does not understand me.... +I would do much better to have him transported. He wrote against me to +the Council of the Elders, but his letter fell into my hands, and the +council has heard nothing of it. The unfortunate man!... Yesterday he +expected me to dinner.... And that is called statesmanship.... Let us +speak no more of this matter.” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s own words.--See +Bourrienne, vol. iii., p. 106.] + +Then he began to relate to his Josephine how Bernadotte had acted, +refusing to take any part in the events of the day, and how, when +Bonaparte had requested him at least to undertake nothing against him, +he answered: “As a citizen, I will keep quiet; but if the Directory +gives me the order to act, I will fight against every disturber of the +peace and every conspirator, whoever he may be.” + +Bonaparte then suddenly turned to Bourrienne to dismiss him, that he +might himself take some rest; and when he extended his hand to bid him +farewell, he added, carelessly: + +“Apropos, to-morrow we sleep in the Luxemburg.” It was decided!--the +long-premeditated deed was done! With the 18th Brumaire, Bonaparte had +made an important step forward on the path of fame and power whose end +was seen by him alone. + +Bonaparte was no longer a general receiving orders from a superior +authority; he was no longer the servant of the Directory; but he was now +the one who would give orders--he was the master and ruler; he stood at +the head of the French nation; he made the laws, and his deep, clear eye +looked far beyond both consuls who stood at his side, into that future +when he alone would be at the head of France; when, instead of the +uprooted throne of the lilies, he would sit in the Tuileries, in the +chair of the First Consul, this chair of a Caesar, which could so easily +become an emperor’s throne! + +On the 20th Brumaire, Napoleon occupied the residence of the Directory +in the palace of the Luxemburg, after he had, through his brother Louis, +made Gohier prisoner, the only one of the directors who still lingered +there, and whom he afterward released. Josephine’s intercession procured +the liberty of the husband of her friend, and this generous pardon +of the furious letter which Gohier had written against him was the +thank-offering which Bonaparte presented to the gods as he made his +entrance into the Luxemburg. + +The Luxemburg itself was, however, but a relay for a change of horses +in the wondrous journey which Bonaparte had to travel from the lawyer’s +house on the island of Corsica to the throne-room of the Bourbons in the +palace of the Tuileries. + +In simple equipage, he with Josephine made his entrance into the +Luxemburg, but after the rest of a few weeks he left this station, to +make his entrance into the Tuileries in a magnificent carriage, drawn +by the six splendid grays which the Emperor of Austria had presented to +General Bonaparte in Campo Formio. For already another change had taken +place in the government of France, and the trefoil-leaf of the consuls +had assumed another form. + +The two consuls, who had stood at the side of Bonaparte, invested with +equal powers, had been set aside by the new constitution of the year +VIII., which the people had adopted on the 17th of February, 1800 (18th +Pluviose, year VIII.). This constitution named Bonaparte as consul for +ten years, and with him two other consuls, who were more his secretaries +than his colleagues. Next to him was Cambaceres, as second consul for +ten years, and then Lebrun, as third consul for five years. + +With these two consuls, Bonaparte, on the 19th of February, 1800, made +his solemn entry into the Tuileries. The old century, with its Bourbon +throne, its bloody revolution, its horrors, its party passions, had +passed away, and the new century found in the Tuileries a hero who +wanted to crush all parties with a hand of iron, and to place his foot +on the head of the revolution, so as to close the abyss which it had +opened, in order to build himself an emperor’s throne over it. + +He was for the present satisfied to hear himself called “First Consul;” + he was willing for a short time to grant to the two men who sat at his +side in the carriage drawn by the six imperial grays, that they should +share the power with him, and should consider themselves vested with the +same authority. But Cambaceres and Lebrun had a keen ear for the joyful +shouts with which the people followed their triumphal march from the +Luxemburg to the Tuileries. They knew very well that these shouts and +acclamations were not addressed to them, but only to General Bonaparte, +the conqueror of Lodi and Arcola, the hero of the pyramids, the “savior +of society,” who, on the 18th Brumaire, had rescued France from the +terrorists. Both consuls were shrewd enough to draw a lesson from this +enthusiasm of the people, and willingly to fall back into the shade +rather than to be forced into it. The Tuileries had been appointed +for the residence of the three consuls, but the next day after their +triumphal entry Cambaceres left the royal palace to take up his abode in +the Hotel Elboeuf, on the Place de Carrousel. Lebrun, who at first made +the Flora Pavilion his headquarters, soon found it more advisable to +take his lodgings elsewhere, and he left the Tuileries, to make his +residence in the Faubourg St. Honore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TUILERIES. + + +The Tuileries had again found a master; the halls where Marie Antoinette +received her joyous guests, her beautiful lady-friends, were now again +alive with elegant female figures, and resounded with gay voices, +cheerful laughter, and unaffected pleasantry. The apartments in which +Louis XVI. had passed such sad and fearful days, where he had laid with +his ministers such nefarious schemes, and where royalty had been trodden +down under the feet of the infuriated populace--these rooms were now +occupied by the hero who had subdued the people, slain the revolution +and restored to France peace and glory. + +The Tuileries had again found a master--the throne-room was still vacant +and empty, for the first consul of the republic dared not yet lay +claim to this throne which the revolution had destroyed, and which the +republic had forever removed from France. But if there was no throne +in the Tuileries, there was at least a court; and “Madame Etiquette,” + driven away from the royal palace since the days of the unfortunate +Marie Antoinette, had again, though with modest and timid step, slipped +into the Tuileries. It is true, she now clandestinely occupied a +servant’s room; but the day was not far distant when, as Egeria, +she would whisper advice and dictate laws to the ear of the new Numa +Pompilius; when all doors would be open to her, and when she alone +would, at all times, have access to the mighty lord of France. + +In the Luxemburg, the fraternity and the equality of the revolution had +been set aside, as, long before, on the 13th Vendemiaire, the liberty +of the revolution had been cast away. In the Luxemburg the “citoyenne” + Bonaparte had become “Madame” Bonaparte, and the young daughter of the +citizeness Josephine heard herself called “Mademoiselle” Hortense! + +After the entrance into the Tuileries, fraternity and equality +disappeared rapidly, and the distinctions of gentlemen and servants, +rulers and subjects, superiors and subordinates, were again introduced. +The chief of the administration was surrounded with honors and +distinctions; the court, with all its grades, degrees, and titles, was +there; it had its courtiers, flatterers, and defamers; and also its +brilliant festivities, splendors, and pomp! + +It is true this was not the work of a moment, nor so rapid an +achievement as the transition from the Luxemburg to the Tuileries, but +the introduction of the words “madame” and “monsieur” removed the first +obstacle which held the whole French nation bound to the same platform; +and a second obstacle had fallen, when permission was granted to all +the emigres, with the exception of the royal family, to return to their +native country. + +The aristocrats of old France returned in vast numbers; they, the +bearers of old names of glory, the legitimists, who had fled before the +guillotine, now hoped to win again the throne from the consulate. + +They kept themselves, however, aloof from the consul, whose greatness +and power were derived from the revolution, and who was to them a +representative of the rebellious, criminal republic; but they presented +themselves to his wife, they brought their homage to Josephine, the born +aristocrat, the relative and friend of so many emigrant families, and +they hoped, through her influence, to obtain what they dared not +ask from the first consul--the re-establishment of the throne of the +Bourbons. + +These aristocrats knew very well that Josephine longed for the return +of the royal family; that in her heart she cherished love and loyalty to +the unfortunate royal couple; and that, without any personal ambition, +without any desire for fame, but with the devotedness of a royalist, and +the affection of a noble, sensitive woman, she sighed for the time when +Bonaparte would again restore to the heir of Louis XVI. the throne of +the lilies, and recall to France the Count de Lille, to replace him as +king on his brother’s throne. + +In fact, Josephine had faith in this fairy-tale of her royal heart; she +believed in those dreams with which her tender conscience lulled her +to repose, whenever she reproached herself, that she, the subject, now +walked and gave orders as mistress in this palace of royalty! “Why, +indeed, could she not believe in the realization of those dreams, since +Bonaparte himself seemed to cherish no further wishes than to rest on +his laurels, and to enjoy, in delightful privacy, the peace he had given +to France? + +“I am looked upon as ambitious,” said Bonaparte one day, in the +confidential evening conversations with his friends in Josephine’s +drawing-rooms, “I am looked upon as ambitious, and why? Listen, my +friends, to what I am going to tell you, and which you may repeat to +all. In three years I shall retire from public life; I shall then have +about fifty thousand livres income, and that is sufficient for my mode +of living. I will get a country residence, since Josephine loves a +country life. One thing only I need, and this I claim--I want to be the +justice of the peace for my circuit. Now, say, am I ambitious?” + +Every one laughed at the strange conceit of Bonaparte, who wished to +exchange his present course for the position of a justice of the peace, +and Bonaparte chimed in heartily with the laughter. + +But Josephine believed those words of Bonaparte, and their echoes had +perchance penetrated even to Russia, to the ears of the pretender to +the French throne, the Count de Lille, and to the ears of the Count +d’Artois, his brother, and they both therefore based their hopes on +Josephine’s winning her husband to the cause of the Bourbons. + +Both sent their secret emissaries to Paris, to enter into some compact +with Josephine, and to prepare their pathway to the throne, after having +failed to negotiate directly with Bonaparte, who had repelled all their +efforts, and with haughty pride had answered the autograph letter of the +Count de Lille. + +The Count d’Artois, enlightened by the fruitless efforts of his brother, +resorted to another scheme. He sent a female emissary to Paris--not +to Bonaparte, but to Josephine. Napoleon himself speaks of it, in his +Memorial of St. Helena, as follows: + +“The Count d’Artois made his advances in a more eloquent and refined +manner. He sent to Paris the Duchess de Guiche, a charming woman, who +by the elegance of her manners and by her personal attractions was well +calculated to bring to a favorable result the object of her mission. She +easily obtained an introduction to Madame Bonaparte, who was acquainted +with all the persons of the old court. The beautiful duchess was +therefore invited to a dejeuner at Malmaison; and during breakfast, when +the conversation ran upon London, the emigrants, and the princes, Madame +de Guiche stated that a few days before she had called upon the Count +d’Artois. They had spoken of current events, of the future of France, +of the royal family, and one of the confidants had asked the prince +what would be the reward of the first consul if he re-established +the Bourbons! The prince answered: ‘First of all he would be created +connetable, with all the privileges attached to that rank, if that were +agreeable to him. But that would not be enough; we would erect to him +on the Place de Carrousel a tall and costly column, and on it we would +raise the statue of Bonaparte crowning the Bourbons.’ A short time after +the dejeuner the consul entered, and Josephine had nothing more pressing +to do than to relate to him all these details. ‘And have you inquired,’ +asked her husband, ‘whether this column would have for a pedestal the +corpse of the first consul?’ The beautiful duchess was still present, +and with her winning ways she was well calculated to carry her point. ‘I +shall ever be happy,’ said she, ‘and grateful for the kindness of +Madame Bonaparte in having granted me the opportunity of gazing upon and +listening to a great man--a hero.’ But it was all in vain; the Duchess +de Guiche the same night received orders to depart immediately; and +the beauty of this emissary appeared to Josephine too dangerous for her +urgently to intercede in her behalf. Early next morning Madame de Guiche +was on her way to the frontier.” [Footnote: “Memorial de Ste. Helene,” + vol. i., p. 34.] + +The Count de Lille chose for his mediator a very devoted servant, the +most skilful of all his agents, the Marquis de Clermont Gallerande. He +also was kindly received by Josephine, and he found access to her ear. +With intense sympathy, and tears in her eyes, she bade him tell her +the sad wanderings of that unfortunate man, “his majesty the King of +France,” and who as a fugitive was barely tolerated, roaming from court +to court, a protege of the good-will of foreign potentates. Drawn away +by her generous heart, and by her unswerving loyalty to the faith of her +childhood, she spoke enthusiastically of the young royal couple who once +had ruled in the Tuileries; and she went so far as to express the hope +that Bonaparte would again make good what the revolution had destroyed, +and that he would restore to the King of France his lost throne. + +The Marquis de Clermont, to prove to her what confidence he reposed in +her, and what consideration the King of France entertained for the first +consul and his adored wife, communicated to her a letter from the Count +de Lille to him, which was in itself a masterpiece, well calculated to +move the heart of Josephine. + +The Count de Lille portrayed in this letter first the dangers which +would threaten Bonaparte if he should allow himself to be drawn into the +inconsiderate and criminal step of placing the crown of France on his +own head, and then continued: + +“Sitting upon a volcano, Bonaparte would sooner or later be destroyed by +it if he hastens not in due time to close the crater. Sitting upon +the first step of the throne restored by his own hand, he would be +the object of a monarch’s gratitude; he would receive from France the +highest regards, the more pure since they would be the result of his +administration and of public esteem. No one can convince him of these +truths better than she whose fortune is bound up with his, who can +be happy only in his happiness and honored only in his reputation. I +consider it a great point gained if you can come into some relation +with her. I know her sentiments from days of old. The Count de Vermeuil, +ex-governor of the Antilles, whose judgment as you know is most +excellent, has told me more than once that in Martinique he had often +noticed how her fealty to the crown deepened nearly to distraction; and +the protection which she grants to my faithful subjects who appeal +to her, entitles her justly to the name you give her, ‘an angel of +goodness.’ Let my sentiments be known to Madame Bonaparte. You will not +surprise her, but I flatter myself that her soul will rejoice to know +them.” [Footnote: Thibaudeau, “Histoire de la France, et de Napoleon +Bonaparte,” vol. ii., p. 202.] + +The Count de Lille was not deceived. Josephine’s heart was filled with +joy at this confidence of the “King of France;” she was pleased that the +Marquis de Clermont had fulfilled his wishes, and that he should with +this letter have sent her a present. She read it with a countenance full +of enthusiasm, and with a tremulous voice, to her daughter Hortense, +whom she had educated to be as good a royalist as herself; and both +mother and daughter besieged, with earnest petitions, with tears and +prayers, and every expression of love, the first consul to realize the +hopes of the Count de Lille, and to recall the exiled prince to his +kingdom. + +Bonaparte usually replied to all these requests with a silent smile; +sometimes also, when they were too violent and pressing, he repelled +them with unwilling vehemence. + +“These women belong entirely to the devil!” said he, in his anger to +Bourrienne, “they are mad for royalty. The Faubourg St. Germain has +turned their heads, they are made the protecting genii of the royalists; +but they do not trouble me, and I am not displeased with them.” + +Bourrienne ventured to warn Josephine, and to call her attention to +this, that she might not so strongly plead before Bonaparte for the +Count de Lille, but Josephine answered him with a sad smile: “I wish I +could persuade him to call back the king, lest he himself may have the +idea of becoming such; for the fear that he may do this always awakens +in me a foreboding of evil, which I cannot banish from my mind.” + [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. iv., p. 108.] + +But until the king was really recalled by the first consul, Josephine +had to be pleased to assume the place of queen in the Tuileries, and to +accept the homage which France and soon all Europe brought to her. For +now that the republic was firmly established, and had made peace with +the foreign powers, they sent their ambassadors to the republic, and +were received in the name of France by the first consul and his wife. + +It was indeed an important and significant moment when Josephine for +the first time in her apartments received the ambassadors of the foreign +powers. It is true no one called this “to give audience;” no one spoke +yet in genuine courtier’s style of “great levee” or “little levee;” the +appellation of “madame” was yet in use, and there was no court-marshal, +no maids of honor, no chamberlains of the palace. But the substance was +the same, and, instead of the high court-marshal, it was Talleyrand, +the secretary for foreign affairs, who introduced to Josephine the +ambassadors, and who called their names. + +This introduction of the ambassadors was the first grand ceremony which, +since the revolution, had taken place in the Tuileries. With exquisite +tact, Josephine had carefully avoided at this festivity any pomp, any +luxury of toilet. In a plain white muslin dress, her beautiful brown +hair bound up in a string of white pearls, and holding Talleyrand’s +hand, she entered the great reception hall, in which the foreign +ambassadors, the generals, and the high dignitaries of the republic +were gathered. She came without pretension or ostentation, but at her +appearance a murmur of admiration ran through the company, and brought +on her cheeks the timid blush of a young maiden. With the assurance of +an accomplished lady of the world she received the salutations of the +ambassadors, knew how to speak to each a gracious word, how to entertain +them, not with those worn-out, stereotyped phrases customary at royal +presentations, but in an interesting, intellectual manner, which at once +opened the way to an exciting, witty, and unaffected conversation. + +Every one was enchanted with her, and from this day not only the French +aristocracy, but all distinguished foreigners who came to Paris, were +anxious to obtain the honor of a reception in the drawing-room of the +wife of the first consul; from this day Josephine was the admiration of +Europe, as she had already been that of France and Italy. As the wife +of the first consul of France she could be observed and noticed by +all Europe, and it is certainly a most remarkable and unheard-of +circumstance that of all these thousands of eyes directed at her, none +could find in her a stain or blemish; that, though neither beautiful nor +young, her sweet disposition and grace so enchanted every one as to be +accepted as substitutes for them, while on account of her goodness +and generosity her very failings and weaknesses were overlooked, being +interwoven with so many virtues. + +Constant, the first chamberlain of Bonaparte, who, at the time Bonaparte +was elected first consul, entered his service, describes Josephine’s +appearance and character in the following manner: + +“Napoleon’s wife was of medium size; her figure was moulded with rare +perfection; her movements had a softness and an elasticity which gave +to her walk something ethereal, without diminishing the majesty of a +sovereign. Her very expressive physiognomy mirrored all the emotions of +her soul without losing aught of the enchanting gentleness which was the +very substance of her character. At the moment of joy or merriment she +was beautiful to behold. Never did a woman more than she justify the +expression that the eyes were the mirror of the soul. Hers were of a +deep-blue color, shadowed by long, slightly-curved lids, and overarched +by the most beautiful eyebrows in the world, and her simple look +attracted you toward her as if by an irresistible power. It was +difficult for Josephine to give to this bewitching look an appearance of +severity, yet she knew how to make it imposing when she chose. Her hair +was beautiful, long, and soft; its light-brown color agreed marvellously +well with her complexion, which was a mixture of delicacy and freshness. +At the dawn of her lofty power the empress was fond of putting on for +a head-dress a red Madras, which gave her the piquant appearance of a +creole. But what more than any thing else contributed to the charm which +invested her whole person was the sweet tone of her voice. How often it +has happened to me and to many others amid our occupations, as soon +as this voice was heard, to remain still for the sake of enjoying the +pleasure of hearing it! It might be said, perhaps, that the empress was +not a beautiful woman; but her countenance, so full of expression and +goodness, the angelic grace which was shed over her whole person, placed +her among the most charming women of the world.” + +Further on, speaking of her character, he continues: + +“Goodness was as inseparable from her character as grace from her +person. Good even to weakness, sensitive beyond all expression, generous +to extravagance, she was the delight of all those who were round about +her; certain it is that there never was a woman more loved and more +deservedly loved by those who approached her than Josephine. As she had +known what adversity was, she was full of compassion for the sorrows +of others; with a pleasant, equable temperament, full of condescension +alike to foe and friend, she carried peace wherever discord or disunion +existed; if the emperor was displeased with his brothers, or with any +other person, she uttered words of affection, and soon restored harmony. +She possessed a wondrous tact, a rare sentiment of what was becoming, +and the soundest and most unerring judgment one can possibly imagine. +Besides all this, Josephine had a remarkable memory, to which the +emperor would often appeal. She was a good reader, and had a peculiar +charm of her own which accorded with all her movements. Napoleon +preferred her to all his other readers.” [Footnote: Constant, +“Memoires,” vol. i., pp. 21, 39; vol. ii., p. 70.] + +The Duke de Rovigo, the Duchess d’Abrantes, Mdlle. Ducrest, the niece of +the Countess de Genlis, Mdlle. d’Avrillon, General Lafayette, in a word, +all who have written about that period who knew Josephine, bear similar +testimony to her amiable disposition and her superior virtues. + +In the same manner the man for whom, as Mdlle. Ducrest says, “she would +gladly have given her life,” Napoleon, in his conversations with his +confidential friends at St. Helena, ever spoke of her. “In all positions +of life, Josephine’s demeanor and actions were always pleasant or +bewitching,” said he. “It would have been impossible ever to surprise +her, however intrusive you might be, so as to produce a disagreeable +impression. I always found her in the same humor; she had the same +amiable complacency; she was good, gentle, and ever devoted to her +husband in true affection. He never saw her in bad humor; she was always +constantly busy in endeavoring to please him.” [Footnote: “Memorial de +Ste. Helene,” vol. i. pp. 38, 79.] + +And she pleased him more than any other woman; he loved her in these +happy days of the consulate with all the affection of the first days of +his marriage; his heart might now and then be drawn aside from her to +other women, but it always returned true and loving to her. + +And this woman, whom the future King of France called an “angel of +goodness,” and the future Emperor of France, “grace in person,” is the +one who entered the Tuileries at Bonaparte’s side to bring again into +France the tone of good society, refinement of manners, intellectual +conversation, and a love for the arts and sciences. + +She was fully conscious of this mission, and devoted herself with +all the strength, energy, and perseverance of her character. Her +drawing-room soon became the central rendezvous of men of science, art, +learning, politics, and diplomacy, and to each Josephine knew how to +address friendly and captivating words; she knew how to encourage every +one by her noble affability, by her respectful interest in their works +and plans--so much so that all strove to do as well as possible, and +in her presence appeared more amiable than they otherwise would perhaps +have been. Alongside of the distinguished men of every rank were seen +the choicest company of ladies, young, beautiful, and captivating; the +most intelligent women of the Faubourg St. Germain were not ashamed to +appear in the drawing-room of the wife of the first consul, and thought +that the glory of their old aristocratic names would not be tarnished +by association with Madame Bonaparte, who by birth belonged to them, +and formed a sort of connecting link between the departed royalty of the +last century and the republicans of the present. + +This republicanism was soon to hide itself behind the columns and +mirrors of the large hall of reception in the Tuileries. Bonaparte--the +first consul, and shortly to be consul for life--would have nothing to +do with this republicanism, which reminded him of the days of terrorism, +anarchy, and the guillotine; and the words “Liberty, Equality, and +Fraternity,” which the revolution had written over the portals of the +Tuileries, were obliterated by the consul of the republic. France had +been sufficiently bled, and had suffered enough for these three words; +it was now to rest under the shadow of legal order and of severe +discipline, after its golden morning-dream of youth’s enchanting hopes. + +Bonaparte was to re-establish order and law; Josephine was to remodel +society and the saloon; her mission was to unite the aristocracy of +ancient France with the parvenues of the new; she was to be to the +latter a teacher of refinement, and of the genuine manners and habits of +so-called good society. + +To accomplish this, the wife of the first consul needed the assistance +of some ladies of those circles who had remained in lofty, haughty +isolation; she needed the co-operation of the ladies of the Faubourg +St. Germain. It is true they made their morning calls, and invited the +former Viscountess de Beauharnais, with her daughter, to their evening +receptions; but they carefully avoided being present at the evening +circles of Madame Bonaparte, where their exclusiveness was beset with +the danger of coming in contact with some “parvenu,” or with some sprig +of the army, or of the financial bureaus. Josephine therefore had to +recruit her troops herself in the Faubourg St. Germain, so as to +bring into her saloon the necessary contingent of the old legitimist +aristocracy, and she found what she desired in a lady with whom she had +been acquainted as Viscountess de Beauharnais, and who then had +ever shown herself kind and friendly. This lady was the Countess de +Montesson, the morganatic wife of the Duke d’Orleans, the father of +the Duke Philippe Egalite, who, after betraying the monarchy to +the revolution, was betrayed by the revolution, and, like his royal +relatives, Louis and Marie Antoinette, had perished on the scaffold! + +Soon after his entrance into the Tuileries, the first consul invited, +through his wife, the Countess de Montesson to visit him, and when she +was announced he advanced to meet her with an unusual expression of +friendship, and endeavored with great condescension to make her say in +what manner he could please her or be of service to her. + +“General,” said Madame de Montesson, much surprised, “I have no right +whatever to claim any thing from you.” + +Bonaparte smiled. “You are mistaken,” said he; “I have been under many +obligations to you for a long time past. Do you not know that to you I +am indebted for my first laurels? You came with the Duke d’Orleans +to Brienne for the purpose of distributing the prizes at the great +examination, and when you placed on my head the laurel-crown, which has +since been followed by others, you said, ‘May it bring you happiness!’ +It is commonly believed that I am a fatalist; it is therefore very +natural that I should not have forgotten my first coronation, and that +it is still fresh in my memory. It would afford me much pleasure to be +of service to you; besides, you can be useful to me. The tone of good +society has nearly perished in France; we would like to renew it again +with your assistance. I need some of the traditions of days gone by--you +can assist my wife with them; and when a distinguished foreigner comes +to Paris you can give him a reception which will convince him that +nowhere else can so much gentleness and amiableness be found.” + [Footnote: “Memoires de Mdlle. Ducrest,” vol. i., p. 9.] + +That Madame de Montesson might have a striking proof of Bonaparte’s +good-will, he renewed her yearly pension of one hundred and eighty +thousand francs, which the duke had donated to her in his will, and +which Bonaparte restored to her as the property which the revolution had +confiscated for the nation’s welfare. She manifested her gratitude to +the first consul for this liberal pension by opening the saloons to +the “parvenues of the Tuileries;” and leading the aristocrats of the +Faubourg St. Germain into the drawing-rooms of Josephine, and then +assisting her to form out of these elements a court whose lofty and +brilliant centre was to be Josephine herself. The ladies of the Faubourg +St. Germain were no longer ashamed to appear at the new court of the +Tuileries, but excused themselves by saying: “We flatter Josephine, so +as to keep her on our side, and to strengthen her loyalty to the king. +She will, by her entrancing eloquence, persuade the consul to recall our +King Louis XVIII., and give him his crown.” + +But too soon, alas! were they made aware of their error. It was not long +before they became convinced that, if Bonaparte’s hands were busy in +raising a throne, in lifting up from the earth the fallen crown of +royalty, he was not doing this to place it on the brow of the Count de +Lille; he had a nearer object in view--he considered his own head better +suited to wear it. + +The conqueror of terrorism and of the revolution was not inclined to +be defeated by the enemies of the republic, who were approaching the +frontiers of France, to restore the Bourbons. He took up the glove which +Austria had thrown down--for she had made alliance with England. + +On the 6th of May, 1800, Bonaparte left Paris, marched with his army +over Mount St. Bernard, and assumed the chief command of the army in +Italy, which recently had suffered so many disastrous defeats from +Suwarrow and the Archduke Charles. + +At Marengo, on the 14th of June, Bonaparte obtained a brilliant triumph. +Soon after, at Hohenlinden, Moreau also defeated the Austrians. These +two decisive victories forced Austria to make peace with France, to +abandon her alliance with England--that is to say, with the monarchical +principles; and, at the peace ratified in the beginning of the year 1801 +at Limeville, to concede to France the grand-duchy of Tuscany. + +In July, Bonaparte returned in triumph to France, and was received +by the people with enthusiastic acclamations. Paris was brilliantly +illuminated on the day of his return, and round about the Tuileries +arose the shouts of the people, who with applauding voices demanded +to see the conqueror of Marengo, and would not remain quiet until he +appeared on the balcony. Even Bonaparte was touched by this enthusiasm +of the French people; as he retreated from the balcony and retired into +his cabinet, he said to Bourrienne. “Listen! The people shout again +and again; they still send their acclamations toward me. I love those +sounds; they are nearly as sweet as Josephine’s voice. How proud and +happy I am to be loved by such a people!” [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. +v., p. 35.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE INFERNAL MACHINE. + + +The victory of Marengo, which had pleased the people, had filled the +royalists with terror and fear, and destroyed their hopes of a speedy +restoration of the monarchy, making them conscious of its fruitless +pretensions. With the frenzy of hatred and the bitterness of revenge +they turned against the first consul, who was not now their expected +savior of the monarchy, but a usurper who wanted to gain France for +himself. + +The royalists and the republicans united for the same object. Both +parties longed to destroy Bonaparte: the one to re-establish the +republic of the year 1793, and the other the throne of the Bourbons. +Everywhere conspiracies and secret associations were organized, and +the watchful and active police discovered in a few months more than ten +plots, the aim of which was to murder Bonaparte. + +Josephine heard this with sorrow and fear, with tears of anxiety and +love. She had now given her whole heart and soul to Bonaparte, and +it was the torment of martyrdom to see him every day threatened by +assassins and by invisible foes, who from dark and hidden places drew +their daggers at him. Her love surrounded him with vigilant friends and +servants, who sought to discover every danger and to remove it from his +path. + +When he was coming to Malmaison, Josephine before his arrival would send +her servants to search every hiding-place in the park, to see if in some +shady grove a murderer might not be secreted; she entreated Junot or +Murat to send scouts from Paris on the road to Malmaison to remove all +suspicious persons from it. Yet her heart trembled with anxiety when she +knew him to be on the way, and, when he had safely arrived, she would +receive him with rapture, as if he had just escaped an imminent danger, +and would make him laugh by the exclamations of joy with which she +greeted him as one saved from danger. + +In the anxiety of her watchful love she made herself acquainted with +all the details of the discovered conspiracies of both the Jacobins +and royalists. She knew there were two permanent conspiracies at work, +though their leaders had been discovered and led into prison. + +One of these conspiracies had been organized by the old Jacobins, the +republicans of the Convention; and these bands of the “enraged,” as +they called themselves, numbered in their ranks all the enemies of +constitutional order, all the men of the revolution of 1789; and all +these men had sworn with solemn oaths to kill Bonaparte, and to deliver +the republic from her greatest and most dangerous enemy. + +The other conspiracy, which had its ramifications throughout France, was +formed by the royalists. “The Society of the White Mantle” was mostly +composed of Chouans, daring men of Vendee, who were ever ready to +sacrifice their lives to the mere notion of royalty, and who like the +Jacobins had sworn to murder Bonaparte. + +Chevalier, who, with his ingenious infernal machine, sought to kill +Bonaparte on his way to Malmaison, belonged to the Society of the White +Mantle. But he was betrayed by his confidant and associate Becyer, who +assisted the police to arrest him. To the conspiracy of the “enraged” + belonged the Italians Ceracchi, Arena, and Diana, who at the opera, when +the consul appeared in his loge, and was greeted by the acclamations of +the people, were ready to fire their pistols at him. But at the moment +they were about to commit the deed from behind the side-scenes, where +they had hidden themselves, they were seized, arrested, and led to +prison by the police. Josephine, as already said, knew all these +conspiracies; she trembled for Bonaparte’s life, and yet she could +not prevent him from appearing in public, and she herself, smiling and +apparently unsuspecting, had to appear at Bonaparte’s side at the +grand parades, in the national festivities, and at the theatrical +performances; no feature on her face was to betray the anxiety she was +enduring. + +One day, however, not only Bonaparte’s life but also that of Josephine, +was imperilled by the conspirators; the famous infernal machine which +had been placed on their way to the opera, would have killed the first +consul and his wife, if a red Persian shawl had not saved them both. + +At the grand opera, that evening, was to be performed Joseph Haydn’s +masterpiece, “The Creation.” The Parisians awaited this performance +with great expectation; they rushed to the opera, not only to hear the +oratorio, the fame of which had spread from Vienna to Paris, but also +to see Bonaparte and his wife, who it was known would attend the +performance. + +Josephine had requested Bonaparte to be present at this great musical +event, for she knew that the public would be delighted at his presence. +He at first manifested no desire to do so, for he was not sufficiently +versed in musical matters for it to afford him much enjoyment; and +besides, there was but one kind of music he liked, and that was the +Italian, the richness of whose melody pleased him, while the German and +French left him dissatisfied and weary. However, Bonaparte gave way to +the entreaties of Josephine, and resolved to drive to the opera. +The dinner that day had been somewhat later than usual, for besides +Josephine, her children, and Bonaparte’s sister Caroline, Murat, the +Generals Bessieres and Lannes, as well as Bonaparte’s two adjutants, +Lebrun and Rapp, had been present. Immediately after dinner they wanted +to drive to the opera; but as Josephine lingered behind, busy with the +arrangement of her shawl, Bonaparte declared he would drive in advance +with the two Generals Bessieres and Lebrun, while Rapp was to accompany +the ladies in the second carriage. With his usual rapidity of action he +seized his hat and sword, and, followed by his companions, left the room +to go to the carriage, which was waiting. + +Josephine, who imagined that Bonaparte was waiting for her at the +carriage, hurriedly put on, without troubling herself any longer about +the becoming arrangement of the folds, a red Persian shawl, which +Bonaparte had sent her as a present from Egypt. She was going to leave, +when Rapp, with the openness of a soldier, made the remark that she had +not put on her shawl to-day with her accustomed elegance. She smiled, +and begged him to arrange it after the fashion of Egyptian ladies. Rapp +laughingly hastened to comply with her wishes; and while Josephine, +Madame Murat, and Hortense, watched attentively the arrangement of the +shawl in the hands of Rapp, Bonaparte’s carriage was heard moving away. + +This noise put a speedy end to all further movements, and Josephine, +with the ladies and Rapp, hastened to follow Bonaparte. Their carriage +had no sooner reached the Place de Carrousel, than an appalling +explosion was heard, and a bright flame like a lightning-flash filled +the whole place with its glare; at the same moment the windows of the +carriage were broken into fragments, which flew in every direction +into the carriage, and one of which penetrated so deep into the arm +of Hortense, that the blood gushed out. Josephine uttered a cry of +horror--“Bonaparte is murdered!” At the same moment were heard loud +shrieks and groans. + +Rapp, seized with fear, and only thinking that Bonaparte was in danger, +sprang out of the carriage, and, careless of the wounded and bleeding, +who lay near, ran onward to the opera to find out if Bonaparte had +safely reached there. While the ladies, in mortal agony, remained on the +Place de Carrousel, not knowing whether to return to the Tuileries or +to drive forward, a messenger arrived at full speed to announce that the +first consul had not been hurt, and that he was waiting for his wife +in his loge, and begged her to come without delay. Meanwhile Rapp had +reached the opera, and had penetrated into the box of the first consul. +Bonaparte was seated calmly and unmoved in his accustomed place, +examining the audience through his glass, and now and then addressing +a few words to the secretary of police, Fouche, who stood near him. +No sooner did Bonaparte see Rapp, than he said hastily, and in a low +voice--“Josephine?” + +At that moment she entered, followed by Madame Murat and Hortense. +Bonaparte saluted them with a smile, and with a look of unfathomable +love he extended his hand to Josephine. She was still pale and +trembling, although she had no conception of the greatness of the danger +which had menaced her. + +Bonaparte endeavored to quiet her by stating that the explosion was +probably the result of some accident or imprudence; but at this moment +the prefect of the police entered who had been on the spot, and had +come to give a report of the dreadful effects of the explosion. Fifteen +persons had been killed, more than thirty had been severely wounded, +and about forty houses seriously damaged. This was all the work of +a so-called infernal machine--a small barrel filled with powder and +quicksilver--which had been placed in a little carriage at the entrance +of the Hue St. Nicaise. + +Until now Josephine did not realize the extent of the danger which had +threatened her and her husband. Had the explosion taken place a few +moments before, it would have killed the consul; if it had been one +minute later, Josephine and her companions would have been involved +in the catastrophe. It was the shawl which Rapp was arranging on her +shoulders according to the rules of art, which caused them to retard +their departure, and thus saved her life. + +An inexpressible horror now seized her and made her tremble; her looks, +full of love and deep anguish, were fixed on Bonaparte, who, in a low +voice, entreated her to compose herself, and not to make her distress +public. Near Josephine sat Hortense, pale and agitated, like her mother; +around her wounded arm was wrapped a handkerchief, stained here and +there with blood. Madame Murat was quiet and composed, like Bonaparte, +who was then giving instructions to the prefect of police to provide +immediate assistance for the unfortunate persons who had been wounded. + +No one yet in the audience knew the appalling event. The thundering +noise had been heard, but it was presumed to have been an artillery +salute, and no evil was suspected, for Bonaparte, with his usual guards, +had entered his box, and, advancing to its very edge, had saluted the +public in a friendly way. This act of the first consul had its ordinary +effect: the audience, indifferent to the music, rose and saluted their +hero with loud acclamation and applause. Not till Josephine entered the +loge had the acclamations subsided, and the music begun again. A few +minutes after, the news of the fearful event spread all over the house: +a murmur arose, and the music was interrupted anew. + +The Duchess d’Abrantes, who was present at this scene, gives a faithful, +eloquent, and graphic picture of it: + +“A vague noise,” says she, “began to spread from the parterre to the +orchestra, and from the amphitheatre to the boxes. Soon the news of the +occurrence was known all over the house, when, like a sudden clap of +thunder, an acclamation burst forth, and the whole audience, with a +single undivided look of love, seemed to desire to embrace Bonaparte. +What I am narrating I have seen, and I am not the only one who saw it. +... What excitement followed this first explosion of national anger, +which at this moment was represented by the audience, whose horror at +the dark plot cannot be described with words! Women were seen weeping +and sobbing; men, pale as death, trembled with vengeance and anger, +whatever might have been the political standard which they followed; all +hearts and hands were united to prove that difference of opinion creates +no difference in the interpretation of the code of honor. During the +whole scene my eyes were fixed on the loge of the consul. He was quiet, +and only seemed moved when public sentiment gave utterance to strong +expressive words about the conspiracy, and these reached him. Madame +Bonaparte was not fully composed. Her countenance was disturbed; even +her attitude, generally so very graceful, was no longer under her +control. She seemed to tremble under her shawl as under a protecting +canopy, and in fact it was this shawl which had saved her from +destruction. She was weeping; however much she endeavored to compose +herself, she could not repress her tears; they would flow, against her +will, down her pale cheeks, and, whenever Josephine fixed her eyes upon +her husband, she trembled again. Even her daughter seemed extremely +agitated, and Madame Murat alone preserved the family character, and +seemed entirely herself.” [Footnote: Duchess d’Abrantes, “Memoires,” + vol. ii., p. 66.] + +At last, when the public excitement was somewhat abated, and the +music was again resumed, the audience turned its attention to Hadyn’s +masterpiece. But Josephine had not the strength to bear this effort, and +to submit to it quietly. She entreated her husband to retire with her +and the ladies; and when at last he acceded to her request, and had +quietly left the loge with her, Josephine sat by him in the carriage, +opposite Caroline and Hortense, and, sobbing, threw herself on +Bonaparte’s breast, and cried out in her anguish: + +“What a life, where I must ever be trembling for you!” + +The infernal machine did not kill the first consul, but it gave to +liberty and to the republic a fatal blow; it scattered into fragments +what remained of the revolutionary institutions from the days of blood +and terror. France rose up in disgust and horror against the party +which made of assassins its companions, and consequently this conspiracy +failed to accomplish what its originators had expected. They wanted to +destroy Bonaparte and ruin his power, but this abortive attempt only +increased his popularity, enlarged his power, and deepened the people’s +love for him who now appeared to them as a protecting rampart, and a +barrier to the flood of anarchy. + +France gave herself up trembling, and without a will of her own, into +the hands of the hero to whom she was indebted for fame and recognition +by foreign powers, and through whom she hoped to secure domestic peace. +France longed for a strong arm to support her; Bonaparte gave her this +arm, but it not only supported France, it bowed her down; and from this +day he placed the reins on the wild republican steed, and let it feel +that it had found a master who had the power and the will to direct it +entirely in accordance with his wishes. + +Bonaparte was determined to put an end to the seditions and conspiracies +of the republicans, whom he hated because they had for their aim the +downfall of all legitimate authority; and in turn was hated by them +because he had abandoned their standard and turned against the republic +with the faithlessness of a son who attacks the mother that gave him +birth. Bonaparte maintained that it was the republicans who had set the +infernal machine on his path, and paid no attention to the opinion of +Fouche, who ascribed to the royalists the origin of the plot. Bonaparte +wished first to do away with his most violent and bitter enemies, +the republicans of the year 1789; he desired to possess the power of +punishing such, and to render them harmless, and now the horror produced +by this criminal act came to his assistance in carrying out this plan. + +The council of the state adopted the legislative enactment that the +consuls should have “the power to remove from Paris those persons whose +presence they considered dangerous to the public security, and that +all such persons who should leave their place of banishment should be +transported from the country!” + +Under this law, George Cadoudal, Chevalier, Arena, Ceracchi, and many +others were executed; and one hundred and thirty persons, whose +only crime was that of being suspected of dissatisfaction toward the +administration of the consuls, and considered as Bonaparte’s enemies, +were transported to Cayenne. + +Such were for France the results of this infernal machine, the object of +which was to assassinate the Consul Bonaparte, instead of which it had +only the effect of destroying his enemies and strengthening his power. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. THE CASHMERES AND THE LETTER. + + +As mighty events always exercise an influence on minor ones, so this +fearful attempt at murder became the occasion for the introduction into +France of a new branch of industry, which had hitherto drawn millions +from Europe to the East. + +Josephine, gratefully remembering her truly wonderful deliverance +through the means of her Persian shawl, wore it afterward in preference +to any other. Until then she had never fancied it, for when Bonaparte +sent it to her from Egypt, she wrote to him: “I have received the shawl. +It may be very beautiful and very costly, but I find it unsightly. Its +great advantage consists in its lightness. I doubt, however, if this new +fashion will meet with approbation. Notwithstanding, I am pleased with +it, for it is rare and warm.” [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice,” + par Mademoiselle Ducrest, vol. iii., p. 227.] + +But after it had saved her life, she no longer thought it unsightly, she +was fond of wrapping herself up in it, and the natural consequence was, +that these Persian shawls soon formed the most fashionable and costly +article of apparel. + +Every lady of the higher classes considered it a necessity to cover her +tender shoulders with this valuable foreign material, and it soon became +“comme il faut” a duty of position, to possess a collection of such +Persian shawls, and to wear them at the balls and receptions in the +Tuileries. + +The desire to possess such a precious article of fashion led these +ladies oftentimes to “corriger la fortune” and to obtain, by some bold +but not very creditable act, possession of such a shawl, which had +now become in a certain measure the escutcheon of the new French +aristocracy. + +The Duchess d’Abrantes, in reference to this matter, relates two thefts +which at that time troubled the aristocratic society of the Tuileries, +which prove that the ladies had taken instructions from the gentlemen, +and that dishonest persons of both sexes were admitted into the society +of heroes and their beautiful wives! + +At a morning reception in the Tuileries, the shawl of the Countess de +St. Martin had been stolen; and this lady was very much distressed at +the loss, for this cashmere was not only a present from Madame Murat, +but was one of uncommon beauty, on account of the rarity of the design, +consisting of paroquets in artistic groups, instead of the ordinary +palm. The countess was therefore untiring in recounting to every one her +irreparable loss, and uttered bitter curses against the bold female who +had stolen her treasure. + +“A few weeks later,” relates the duchess, “at a ball given by the +minister Talleyrand, the countess came toward me with a bright +countenance and told me that she had just now found her shawl, and, +strange to say, upon the shoulders of a young lady at the ball! + +“‘But,’ said I to her, ‘you will not accuse this lady before the whole +company!’ + +“‘And why not?’ + +“‘Because that would be wrong. Leave this matter to me.’ + +“She would not at first, but I pressed the subject on her consideration, +and she agreed at length to remain somewhat behind, while I approached +the young lady, who stood near the door, and was just going to leave the +ballroom. I told her in a low voice that in all probability she had +made a mistake; that she had perhaps mislaid her own cashmere, and had +through carelessness taken the shawl of the Countess de St. Martin. + +“I was as polite as I could possibly be in such a communication; but the +young lady looked at me unpleasantly for such an impertinent intrusion, +and replied that ‘since the time the Countess de St. Martin had deafened +the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl, she had had +ample leisure to recognize as her property the cashmere she wore.’ Her +mother, who stood a few steps from her, and was conversing with another +lady, turned toward her when she heard her daughter speak in so loud a +voice. But the Countess de St. Martin, who had overheard that she ‘had +deafened the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl,’ +rushed in to the rescue of her case. + +“‘This cashmere belongs to me,’ said she, haughtily--seizing, at the +same time, the shawl with one hand, while the young lady with her fist +thrust her back violently. I saw that in a moment they would come to +blows. + +“‘It will be easy to end this difficulty,’ said I to the Countess de St. +Martin. ‘Madame will be kind enough to tell us where she has purchased +this shawl which is so much like yours, and then you will see your +mistake, and be satisfied.’ + +“‘It does not suit me to tell where I got this shawl,’ replied the lady, +looking at me contemptuously; ‘there is no necessity for my telling you +where I purchased it.’ + +“‘Well, then,’ exclaimed eagerly the Countess de St. Martin, ‘you +confess, madame, that the shawl really belongs to you?’ + +“The other answered with a sarcastic smile, and drew the shawl closer +to her shoulders. A few persons, attracted by the strangeness of such +a scene, had gathered around us, and seemed to wait for the end of so +extraordinary an event. + +“The countess continued with a loud voice: + +“‘Well, then, madame, since the shawl belongs to you, you can explain to +me why the name of Christine, which is my first name, is embroidered in +red silk on the small edging. Madame Junot will be kind enough to look +for this name.’ + +“The young woman became pale as death. I shall never during my life +forget the despairing look which she gave me, as with trembling hand she +passed me the shawl, just as her father appeared from a room near the +place of the scene. I took the cashmere with an unsteady hand, and +sought reluctantly for the name of Christine, for I trusted she would at +least have taken it out; but the deathly paleness of the guilty one told +the contrary, and in fact I had no sooner unfolded the shawl, than the +name appeared, embroidered at the narrow edging. + +“‘Ah!’ at last exclaimed the countess, in a triumphant tone, ‘I have--’ +but as she raised her eyes to the young woman, she was touched by her +despairing look. ‘Well, then,’ cried she, ‘this is one of those mistakes +which so often happen. To-morrow I will return your cashmere.--We have +exchanged cashmeres,’ said she, turning to the young lady’s father, +who, surprised at seeing her naked shoulders, gazed at his daughter, +not understanding the matter. ‘You will have the goodness to send me my +shawl to-morrow,’ added she, noticing how the young woman trembled. + +“We returned into the ballroom, and the next day the young lady sent to +the Countess de St. Martin her precious shawl. + +“Something similar to this happened at the same time to Madame Hamelin. +She was at a ball; when rising from her seat to join in a contra-dance, +she left there a very beautiful black shawl; when she returned, +her shawl was no longer there, but she saw it on the shoulders of a +well-known and distinguished lady. Approaching her, she said: + +“‘Madame, you have my shawl!’ + +“‘Not at all, madame!’ + +“‘But, madame, this is my shawl, and, as an evidence, I can state the +number of its palms--it has exactly thirteen, a very unusual number!’ + +“‘My shawl has also, by chance, precisely thirteen palms.’ + +“‘But,’ said Madame Hamelin, ‘I have torn it since I came here. You can +see where it is torn, and by that means I recognize my shawl.’ + +“‘Ah, my goodness! my shawl has also been torn; that is precisely why I +bought it, for I obtained it on that account somewhat cheaper.’ + +“It is useless to dispute with a person who is determined to follow +Basil’s receipt, that ‘what is worth taking is worth keeping.’ Madame +Hamelin lost her shawl, and had, as a sole consolation, the petty +vengeance of relating to everybody how it was taken, and of pointing +out the thief, who was in the meanwhile perfectly shameless.” [Footnote: +Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. ix., pp. 70-76.] + +No one, however, had a larger and more choice selection of these +cashmere shawls than Josephine. Mdlle. Ducrest relates that the deceased +empress had more than one hundred and fifty of the most magnificent and +costly cashmere shawls. She had sent to Constantinople patterns from +which she had them made there, as pleasing to the eye as they were +costly and precious. Every week M. Lenormant, the first man-milliner +in Paris, came to Navarra, the country residence of the empress, +and brought his most beautiful shawls for her selection. The empress +possessed several (having a white ground covered with roses, violets, +paroquets, peacocks, and other objects of beauty hitherto unknown in +France) each of which cost from fifteen to twenty thousand francs. + +The empress went so far in her passion for cashmeres as to have dresses +made of the same material. One day she had put on one of these dresses, +which was so beautiful, that some gentlemen invited to dinner could not +withhold their admiration. One of them, Count Pourtales, thought that +this splendid material would be well adapted for a gentleman’s vest. +Josephine, in her large-heartedness, had a pair of scissors brought; she +then cut her dress into several pieces sufficiently large for a vest, +and divided them among the gentlemen present, so that only the bodice +of the dress remained, with a small piece around the waist But this +improvised spencer over the white richly-embroidered under-dress, was so +exceedingly becoming to the empress, and brought out so exquisitely her +beautiful bust, and slender graceful waist, that it would have been +easy to consider as a piece of coquetry what was simply Josephine’s +spontaneous generosity. [Footnote: Mademoiselle Ducrest.] + +Josephine, however, did not so assiduously attend to her cashmere shawls +as to forget the unfortunate victims of the infernal machine. On the +contrary, she saw with deep pain how every one was busy in inculpating +others, and in casting suspicions on royalists and Jacobins, so as to +give a pretext to punish them. She noticed that all those who wished to +gain the consul’s favor were zealous in spying out fresh culprits, for +it was well known that Bonaparte was inclined to make of all hostile +parties a terrible example, so that, through the severity of the +punishment and the number of the punished, he might deter the +dissatisfied from any further plots. + +Josephine’s compassionate heart was distressed, through sympathy for so +many unfortunate persons, whom wicked men maliciously were endeavoring +to drag into guilt, so as to have them punished; and the injustice which +the judges manifested at every hearing filled her with anger and +horror. Ever ready to help the needy, and to protect the persecuted, she +addressed herself to Fouche, the minister of police, and requested him +to use mildness and compassion. She wrote to him: + +“Citizen minister, while trembling at the frightful calamity which has +taken place, I feel uneasy and pained at the fear of the punishments +which hang over the poor creatures who, I am told, belong to families +with which I have been connected in days past. I shall therefore be +appealed to by mothers, sisters, and despairing wives; my heart will be +lacerated by the sad consciousness that I cannot obtain pardon for all +those who implore it. + +“The generosity of the consul is great, his affection for me is +boundless, I know it well; but the crime is of so awful a nature that +he will deem it necessary to make an example of extreme severity. The +supreme magistrate was not alone exposed to danger--many others were +killed and wounded by this sad event, and it is this which will make the +consul severe and implacable. + +“I conjure you, then, citizen minister, to avoid extending your +researches too far, and not always to spy out new persons who might be +compromised by this horrible machine. Must France, which has been held +in terror by so many executions, have to sigh over new victims? Is +it not much more important to appease the minds of the people than to +excite them by new terrors? Finally, would it not be advisable, so soon +as the originators of this awful crime are captured, to have compassion +and mercy upon subordinate persons who may have been entangled in it +through dangerous sophisms and fanatical sentiments? + +“Barely vested with the supreme authority, ought not the first consul +study to win the hearts rather than to make slaves of his people? +Moderate, therefore, by your advice, where in his first excitement he +may be too severe. To punish is, alas, too often necessary! To pardon +is, I trust, still more. In a word, be a protector to the unfortunate +who, through their confession or repentance, have already made in part +penance for their guilt. + +“As I myself, without any fault on my part, nearly lost my life in the +revolution, you can easily understand that I take an interest in those +who can perhaps be saved without thereby endangering my husband’s life, +which is so precious to me and to France. I therefore earnestly desire +that you will make a distinction between the leaders of this conspiracy +and those who, from fear or weakness, have been seduced into bringing +upon themselves a portion of the guilt. As a woman, a wife, a mother, +I can readily feel for all the heart-rending agonies of those families +which appeal to me. + +“Do what you possibly can, citizen minister, to diminish their numbers; +you will thereby spare me much anxiety. I can never be deaf to the cries +of distress from the needy; but in this matter you can do a great +deal more than I can, and therefore pardon what may seem strange in my +pleadings with you. + +“Believe in my gratitude and loyalty of sentiment. + +“JOSEPHINE.” [Footnote: Ducrest, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 231.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. MALMAISON. + + +In the Tuileries the first consul, with his wife, resided in all the +pomp and dignity of his new office. There he was the sovereign, the +commander; there he ruled, and, like a king, all bowed to him; the +people humbled themselves and recognized him as their master. + +In the Tuileries etiquette and the stiff pomp of a princely court +prevailed more and more. Bonaparte required of his wife that she should +there represent the dignity and the grandeur of her new position; +that she should appear as the first, the most exalted, and the most +unapproachable of women. In the Tuileries there were no more evenings +of pleasant social gatherings, of joyous conversation with friends whom +affection made equals, and who, in love and admiration, recognizing +Bonaparte’s ascendency, brought him of their own free choice their +esteem and high consideration. Now, it was all honor and duty; now, +the friends of the past wore servants who, for duty’s sake, had to +be subservient to their master, and abide by the rules of etiquette, +otherwise the frown on their lofty ruler’s brow would bring them back +within their bounds. + +Josephine was pained at these limits set to her personal freedom--at +these claims of etiquette, which did not permit her friends to remain at +her side, but strove to exalt above them the wife of the first consul. +Her sense of modesty ever accepted the pleasant, genial household +affections as more agreeable and more precious than the burdensome +representations, levees, and the tediousness of ceremonial receptions; +her sense of modesty longed for the quiet and repose of retirement, and +she was happy when, at the close of the court festivities, she could +return to Malmaison, there to enjoy the coming of spring, the blossoming +of summer, and the glorious beauty of autumn with its manifold colors. + +In Malmaison were centered all her joys and pleasures. There she could +satisfy all the inclinations of her heart, all the fancies of her +imagination, all the wants of her mind; there she could be the tender +wife and mother, and the faithful friend; there she could receive, +without the annoyance of etiquette, men of learning and art; there she +could cultivate the soil and devote herself to botany, her favorite +study, and to her flowers, the dearest and most faithful friends of her +whole life. + +Josephine sought for and found in Malmaison her earthly paradise; there +she was happy, and the care and the secret anguish which in Paris wove +around her heart its network, and every now and then whispered the +nefarious words of divorce and separation, followed her not in the +beautiful and friendly Malmaison; she left all this in Paris with the +stiff Madame Etiquette, who once in the Tuileries had poisoned the +existence of the Queen Marie Antoinette, and now sought to intrude +herself upon the consulate as an ill-tempered sovereign. + +But in Malmaison there was no etiquette, none of the dignified coldness +of court-life. There you were allowed to laugh, to jest, and to be +happy. In Malmaison the first consul laid aside his gravity; there his +gloomy brow brightened, and he became again General Bonaparte, the +lover of his Josephine, the confidential companion of his friends, the +harmless individual, who seemed to have nothing to require from Heaven +but the happiness of the passing hour, and who could laugh at a joke +with the same guilelessuess as any other child of the people who never +deemed it necessary to cultivate a close intimacy with the grave and +gloomy Madame Politique. + +It is true Malmaison was not Bonaparte’s sole country residence. The +city of Paris had presented him with the pleasure-castle of St. Cloud, +the same which Louis XVI. gave to his wife, and where, to the very great +annoyance of the proud Parisians, she had for the first time engraven +on the regulation-tablets, at the entrance of the park, the fatal +words--“De par la Reine.” + +Now this royal mansion of pleasure belonged to the first consul of +the republic; it was his summer residence, but there he was still the +consul, the first magistrate, and the representative of France; and +he had there to give receptions, hold levees, receive the ministers, +councillors of state, and the foreign ambassadors, and appear in all the +pomp and circumstance of his position. + +But in Malmaison his countenance and his being were changed. Here he was +the cheerful man, enjoying life; he was the joyous companion, the modest +land-owner, who with genial delight surveyed the produce of his soil, +and even calculated how much profit it could bring him. + +“The first consul in Malmaison,” said the English minister, Fox, “the +first consul in St. Cloud, and the first consul in the Tuileries, are +three different persons, who together form that great and wonderful +idea; I should exceedingly like to be able to represent exactly after +nature these three portraits; they must be very much alike, and yet very +different.” + +It is certain, however, that of these three portraits that of the first +consul in Malmaison was the most amiable, and that of the first consul +of the Tuileries the most imposing. + +In Malmaison Bonaparte’s countenance was cheerful and free from care; +in the Tuileries he was grave and dignified. On his clouded brow were +enthroned great designs; from the deep, dark eyes shot lightnings ready +to fire a world--to erect or destroy kingdoms. In Malmaison these eyes +with cheerful brilliancy reposed on Josephine; his otherwise earnest +lips welcomed there the beloved of his heart with merry pleasantry and +spirited raillery; there he loved to see Josephine in simple, modest +toilet; and if in the lofty halls of the Tuileries he exacted from the +wife of the first consul a brilliant toilet, the bejewelled magnificence +of the first lady of France, he was delighted when in Malmaison he saw +coming through the green foliage the wife of General Bonaparte in simple +white muslin, with a laughing countenance; and with her sweet voice, +which he still considered as the finest music he ever heard, she bade +welcome to her husband who here was changed into her tender lover. + +In Malmaison, Bonaparte would even put off his general’s uniform, +and, in his plain gray coat of a soldier, walk through the park in the +neighborhood, resting on the arm of his confidant, Duroc, and would +begin a friendly conversation with the first farmer he met, perfectly +satisfied when in the little man with the gray tightly-buttoned coat, no +one suspected or imagined to see the first consul of the republic. + +Every Saturday the first consul hastened to the chateau to pass there, +as he said, his Sunday, his day of rest; and only on Monday morning did +he return to Paris, “to take up his chain again.” + +How genial and happy were these days of rest! How eagerly did Josephine +labor to make them days of felicity for Bonaparte! how ingenious to +prepare for him new festivities and new surprises! and how her eyes +brightened when she had succeeded in making Bonaparte joyous and +contented! + +If the weather was favorable, the whole company in Malmaison, the young +generals, with their beautiful, young, and lively wives, who surrounded +Bonaparte and Josephine, and of whom a great number belonged to their +family, made promenades through the park, then they seated themselves on +a fine spot to repeat stories or to indulge in harmless sociable games, +in which Bonaparte with the most cheerful alacrity took part. Even +down to the game of “catch” and to that of “room-renting” did Bonaparte +condescend to play; and as Marie Antoinette with her husband and her +court played at blindman’s-buff in the gardens of Trianon, so Bonaparte +was pleased on the lawns of Malmaison to play at “room-renting.” + +How often after a dark, cloudy morning, when suddenly at noon the skies +would become clear and the sunshine break through the clouds, would +Bonaparte’s countenance gladden with all the spirit of a school-boy, in +the midst of holidays, and, throwing off his coat, laughingly exclaim, +“Now come, one and all, and let us rent the room!” + +And then on the large, open lawn, surrounded on all sides by tall trees, +the first consul with his wife, his generals and their young wives, +would begin the exhilarating, harmless child’s-play, forgetful of all +care, void of all fear, except that he should lose his tree, and that as +a penniless individual having to rent a room he would have to stand in +the centre before all eyes, just as first consul he stood before all +eyes in the centre of France, and struggled for a place the importance +and title of which were known only to his silent soul. But in Malmaison, +at the game of “room to let,” Bonaparte had no remembrance whatever of +the ambitious wishes of the first consul; the whole world seemed to have +set, the memories of his youth passed before his eyes in such beauty, +saluting him with the gracious looks of childhood, as nearly to make him +an enthusiast. + +How often, when on Josephine’s arm, surrounded by a laughing, noisy +group of friends, and walking through shady paths, on hearing the bells +of the neighboring village chime their vespers, would Bonaparte suddenly +interrupt the conversation and stand still to hear them! With a motion +of the hand he would command silence, while he listened with a smile of +grief to sounds which recalled days long gone by. “These bells remind me +of the days of my boyhood,” said he to Josephine; “it seems to me, when +I hear them, that I am still in Brienne.” + +To keep alive the memories of his school-days in Brienne, he sent for +one of his teachers, the Abbe Dupuis, who had been remarkably kind to +him, and invited him to Malmaison, to arrange there a library, and to +take charge of it; he sent also for the porter of Brienne whose wife he +had so severely prohibited from entering the theatre, and made him the +porter of the chateau. + +In bad weather and on rainy days the whole company gathered in the large +drawing-room, and found amusement in playing the various games of cards, +in which Bonaparte not only took much interest, but in which he so +eagerly played, that he often had recourse to apparent bungling, so as +to command success. Adjoining the drawing-room, where conversation and +amusements took place, was a room where the company sang and practised +music, to the delight of Bonaparte, who often, when one of his favorite +tunes was played, would chime in vigorously with the melody, nowise +disturbed by the fact that he never could catch the right tune, and that +he broke out every time into distressing discordance! + +But all songs and music subsided, all plays were interrupted, when +Bonaparte, excited perhaps by the approaching twilight, or by some +awakened memory, began to relate one of those tragic, fearful stories +which no one could tell so well as he. Then, with arms folded behind his +back, he slowly paced the drawing-room, and with sinister looks, tragic +manner, and sepulchral voice, he would begin the solemn introduction of +his narrative: + +“When death strikes, at a distance, a person whom we love,” said he, +one evening, with a voice tremulous with horror, “a certain foreboding +nearly always makes us anticipate the event, and the person, touched by +the hand of death, appears to us at the moment we lose him on earth.” + +“How very sad and mournful that sounds!” sighed Josephine, as she placed +both her arms on Bonaparte’s shoulder, as if she would hold him, and +chain him to earth, that he might not vanish away with every ghost-like +form. + +Bonaparte turned to her with a genial smile, and shook his head at her, +so as to assure her of his existence and his love. Then he began his +story with all the earnestness and tragic power of an improvisator +of ancient Rome. He told how once Louis XIV., in the great gallery of +Versailles, received the bulletin of the battle of Friedlingen, and how, +unfolding it, he read to the assembled court the names of the slain and +of the wounded. Quietness reigned in the splendidly-illumined gallery; +and the courtiers in their embroidered coats, who, ordinarily, were +so full of merriment and so high-spirited, had, all at once, become +thoughtful. They gathered in a circle around the monarch, from whose +lips slowly, like falling tears, fell one by one the names of the +killed. Here and there the cheeks of their relatives turned pale. +Suddenly the Count de Beaugre saw appear, at the farther end of the +gallery, stately and ghost-like, the blood-stained figure of his son, +who, with eyes wide open, stared at his father, and saluted him with a +slight motion of the head, and then glided away through the door. “My +son is dead!” cried Count de Beaugre--and, at the very same moment, +the king uttered his name as one of the slain!” [Footnote: Bourrienne, +“Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 225.] + +“Ah! may I never see such a ghost-like figure,” murmured Josephine, +drawing closer to her husband. “Bonaparte, promise me that you will +never go to war again; that you will keep peace with all the world, so +that I may have no cause of alarm!” + +“And to tremble at my ghost,” exclaimed Bonaparte, laughing. “Look at +this selfish woman, she does not wish me a hero’s death, lest I should +appear to her here in the shape of a bloody placard!” + +With her small bejewelled hand Josephine closed his mouth, and ordered +lights to be brought; she asked Lavalette to play a lively dancing-tune, +and cried out to the joyous youthful group, at the head of whom were +Hortense and Eugene, to fall in for a dance. + +“Nothing more charming,” writes the Duchess d’Abrantes, “could be seen +than a ball in Malmaison, made up as it was of the young ladies whom the +military family of the first consul brought together, and who, without +having the name of it, formed the court of Madame Bonaparte. They were +all young, many of them very beautiful; and when this lovely group were +dressed in white crape, adorned with flowers, their heads crowned with +wreaths as fresh as the hues of their young, laughing, charming faces, +it was indeed a bewitching sight to witness the animated and lively +dance in these halls, through which walked the first consul, surrounded +by the men with whom he discussed and decided the destinies of Europe.” + [Footnote: Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 329.] + +But the best and most exciting amusement in Malmaison was the theatre; +and nothing delighted Bonaparte so much as this, where the young troop +of lovers in the palace performed little operas and vaudevilles, +and went through their parts with all the eagerness of real actors, +perfectly happy in having the consul and his wife for audience. In +Malmaison, Bonaparte abandoned himself with boundless joy to his +fondness for the theatre; here he applauded with all the gusto of an +amateur, laughed with the laisser-aller of a college-boy at the harmless +jokes of the vaudevilles, and here also he took great pleasure in the +dramatic performances of Eugene, who excelled especially in comic roles. + +Bonaparte had a most convenient stage constructed in Malmaison for his +actors; he had the most beautiful costumes made for each new piece, and +the actors Talma and Michet had to come every week to the chateau, to +give the young people instruction in their parts. The ordinary actors +of this theatre in the castle were Eugene and Hortense, Caroline Murat, +Lauriston, M. Didelot, the prefect of the palace, some of the officers +attached to the establishment, and the Count Bourrienne, the friend of +Bonaparte’s youth, who now had become the first secretary of the consul. +The pieces which Bonaparte attended with the greatest pleasure were the +“Barber of Seville,” and “Mistrust and Malice.” The young and amiable +Hortense made an excellent Rosine in the “Barber of Seville,” and +Bonaparte never failed to clap his hands in hearty applause to Hortense, +when Josephine with cheerful smiles would thank him, for she seemed as +proud of her daughter’s talent as of her husband’s applause. + +Bourrienne, in his memoirs, gives a faithful description of those +evening theatrical performances, and of the happy life enjoyed in +Malmaison; he lingers with a sober joy over those beautiful and innocent +memories of other days. + +“Bonaparte,” says he, “found great pleasure in our dramatic +entertainments; he loved to see comedies represented by those who +surrounded him, and oftentimes paid us flattering compliments. Though it +amused me as much as it did the others, yet I was more than once obliged +to call Bonaparte’s attention to the fact that my other occupations did +not give me time enough to learn my parts. He then, in his flattering +way, said: ‘Ah, Bourrienne, let me alone. You have so excellent a +memory! You know that this is an amusement to me! You see that these +performances enliven Malmaison and make it cheerful! Josephine is so +fond of them! Rise a little earlier!’ + +“‘It is a fact--I sleep a great deal!’ + +“‘Allons, Bourrienne, do it to please me; you do make me laugh so +heartily! Deprive me not of this pleasure. You know well that otherwise +I have but few recreations.’ + +“‘Ah, parbleu! I will not deprive you of it. I am happy to be able to +contribute something to your amusement.’ Consequently I rose earlier, to +learn my parts. + +“On the theatre days the company at Malmaison was always very large. +After the performance a brilliant crowd undulated like waves in the +halls of the first story. The most animated and varied conversation took +place, and I can truly affirm that cheerfulness and sincerity were the +life of those conversations, and their principal charm. Refreshments of +all kinds were distributed, and Josephine performed the honors of those +gatherings with so much amiableness and complacency that each one might +believe she busied herself more with him than with any one else. At the +end of the delightful soirees, which generally closed after midnight, +we returned to Paris, where the cares of life awaited us.” [Footnote: +Bourrienne, “Memoires,” vol. v., p. 26.] + +Time was spent not only in festivities and amusements at Malmaison, but +sciences and arts also formed there a serious occupation, and it was +Josephine who was the prime mover. She invited to the chateau painters, +sculptors, musicians, architects, and savants of every profession, and +thus to the Graces she added the Arts for companions. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. FLOWERS AND MUSIC. + + +Above all things, Josephine, in her retreat, devoted her time and +leisure hours to botany and to her dear flowers. Alexander Lenoir, the +famous architect of that day, had to assist her in enlarging the little +castle of Malinaison, and to open more suitable halls for the arts +and sciences. Under Josephine’s direction there arose the splendid +library-room resting upon columns; it was Josephine who had the +beautiful gallery of paintings constructed, and also with remarkable +judgment purchased a selection of the finest paintings of the great +masters to adorn this gallery. Besides which, she gave to living +painters orders of importance, and encouraged them to originate new +pieces, that art itself might have a part in the new era of peace and +prosperity, which, under the consulate, seemed to spread over France. + +Alongside of the paintings Josephine adorned this gallery with the +finest antique statues, with a collection of the rarest painted vases +of Pompeii, and with ten paintings on cement, memorials of Grecian art, +representing the nine Muses and Apollo Mersagetos. These last splendid +subjects were a present which the King of Naples had given to Josephine +during her residence in Italy. Always attentive not only to promote the +arts, but also to help the artists and to increase their reputation, +Josephine would buy some new pieces of sculpture, and give them a +place in Malmaison. The two most exquisite masterpieces of Canova, “The +Dancing-Girl” and “Paris,” were purchased by Josephine at an enormous +price for her gallery, whose chief ornament they were. + +Her fondness for flowers was such that she spared neither expense +nor labor to procure those worthy of Malmaison. She caused also large +green-houses and hot-houses to be constructed, the latter suited to +the culture of the pineapple and of the peach. In the green-houses were +found flowers and plants of every zone, and of all countries. People, +knowing her taste for botany, sent her from the most remote places the +choicest plants. Even the prince regent of England, the most violent +and bitter enemy of the first consul, had high esteem for this taste of +Josephine; and during the war, when some French ships, captured by the +English, were found to have on board a collection of tropical plants for +her, he had them carried with all dispatch to Madame Bonaparte. + +Josephine had a lofty aim: she wanted to gather into her hot-houses all +the species and families, all the varieties of the tropical plants, +and she strove to accomplish this with a perseverance, a zeal, and an +earnestness of which no one would have thought her indolent, soft Creole +nature capable. To increase her precious collection, she spared neither +money nor time, neither supplications nor efforts. All travellers, all +seafaring men, who came into her drawing-room were entreated to send +plants to Malmaison; and even the secretary of the navy did not fail +to give instructions to the captains of vessels sailing to far-distant +lands to bring back plants for the wife of the first consul. If it were +a matter of purchase, nothing was too expensive, and when, through her +fondness for beautiful objects, Josephine’s purse was exhausted, and her +means curtailed, she sooner gave up the purchase of a beautiful ornament +than that of a rare plant. + +The hot-houses of Malmaison caused, therefore, a considerable increase +in her expenses, and were a heavy burden to her treasury; and for their +sake, when the day of payment came, Josephine had to receive from her +husband many severe reproaches, and was forced to shed many a bitter +tear. But this, perhaps, made them still dearer; no sooner were the +tears dried up and the expenses covered, than Josephine again abandoned +herself with renewed zeal to her passion for collecting plants and +costly studies in botany, especially since she had succeeded in winning +to her person the renowned botanist and learned Bonpland, and in having +him appointed superintendent of her gardens and hot-houses. It was +Bonpland who cultivated Josephine’s inclination for botany, and exalted +her passion into a science. He filled the green-houses of Malmaison +with the rarest plants, and taught Josephine at the same time their +classifications and sexes, and she quickly proved herself to be a +zealous and tractable pupil. She soon learned the names of the plants, +as well as their family names, as classified by the naturalists; she +became acquainted with their origin and their virtues, and was extremely +sad and dejected when, in one of her families, a single species was +wanting. But what a joy when this gap was filled! No price was too +exorbitant, then, to procure the missing species; and one day she paid +for a small, insignificant plant from Chili the high price of three +thousand francs, filling Bonpland with ecstasy, but the emperor with +deep wrath as soon as he heard it. [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires sur +l’Imperatrice Josephine.”] + +Next to botany, it was music which Josephine delighted in and +cultivated. Since the cares and the numerous relations of her +diversified life claimed so much of her time, she had abandoned the +exercises of music; and it was only at the hour of unusual serenity of +mind, or of more lively recollections of the past, that she was +heard singing softly one of the songs of her own native isle, even as +Bonaparte himself, when he was meditating and deciding about some new +campaign, would betray the drift of his thoughts by singing louder and +louder the favorite melody of the day, Marlborough s’en va-t-en guerre. +But Josephine had the satisfaction that Hortense was not only an +excellent performer on the piano and the harp, but that she could also +write original compositions, whose softness and harmonious combinations +made them popular throughout France. Another satisfaction was, that +Eugene sang, in a fine clear voice, with great talent, and that +frequently he would by his excellent singing draw even the first consul +into loud expressions of admiration. + +Bonaparte was not easily satisfied as regards singing; it was seldom +that music elicited any commendation from him. The Italian music alone +could excite his enthusiasm, and through its impassioned fervor rouse +him up, or its humorous passages enliven him. Therefore Bonaparte, when +consul or emperor, always patronized the Italian music in preference to +any other, and he constantly and publicly expressed this liking, without +considering how much he might thereby wound the French artistes in their +ambition and love of fame. He therefore appointed an Italian to be first +singer at the opera. It is true this was Maestro Paesiello, whose operas +were then making their way through Europe, and everywhere meeting with +approbation. Bonaparte also was extremely fond of them, and at every +opportunity he manifested to the maestro his good-will and approbation. +But one day this commendation of Paesiello was changed to the most +stinging censure. It was on the occasion of the first representation +of Paesiello’s Zingari in Fiera. The first consul and his wife were in +their loge, and to show to the public how much he honored and esteemed +the composer, he had invited Paesiello to attend the performance in his +loge. + +Bonaparte followed the performance with the most enthusiastic +demonstrations of gratification; he heartily applauded each part, and +paid to Paesiello compliments which were the more flattering since every +one knew that the lips which uttered them were not profuse in their use. +A tenor part had just ended, and its effect had been remarkable. The +audience was full of enthusiasm. Bonaparte, who by his hearty applause +had given the signal to a storm of cheers, turned toward Paesiello, and, +offering him his hand, exclaimed: + +“Truly, my dear friend, the man who has composed this melody can boast +of being the first composer in Europe!” + +Paesiello became pale, his whole body trembled, and, with stammering +voice, he said: + +“General, this melody is from Cimarosa. I have placed it in my opera +merely to please the singers.” + +The first consul shrugged his shoulders. + +“I am sorry, my dear sir,” said he, “but I cannot recall what I have +said.” + +The next day, however, he sent to the composer of the opera, as an +acknowledgment of his esteem, a magnificent present, with which he +no doubt wished to heal the pain which he had unwittingly caused the +maestro. But Paesiello possessed a temper easily wounded, and the more +so since he considered himself as the first and greatest composer in +the world, and was sincere in the opinion that others could compose good +music, but that his alone was grand and distinguished. + +Bonaparte’s present could not, therefore, heal the wound which the +praise of Cimarosa’s melody had inflicted, and this wound was soon to +be probed deeper, and become fatal to Paesiello. Another new opera from +Paesiello, Proserpina, was to be represented. The first consul, who was +anxious to secure for his protege a brilliant success, had given +orders to bring it out in the most splendid style; the most beautiful +decorations and the richest costumes had been provided, and a stage +erected for a ballet, on which the favorite ballet-leaders of Paris were +to practise their art. + +The mighty first consul was, on the evening of the first performance of +the opera of Proserpina, to learn the lesson, that there exists a power +which will not be bound in fetters, and which is stronger and more +influential than the dictates of the mighty--the power of public +opinion. This stood in direct opposition to the first consul, by the +voiceless, cold silence with which it received Paesiello’s piece. +Bonaparte might applaud as heartily as he pleased, and that might +elicit an echo from the group of his favorites, but the public +remained unmoved, and Bonaparte had the humiliation to see this opera, +notwithstanding his approbation, prove a complete failure. He felt as +nervous and excited as the composer himself, for he declared loudly +and angrily that the French knew nothing about music, and that it was +necessary to teach them that the Italians alone understood the art of +composition. + +To teach this to the French the opera of Proserpina was to be repeated +until the mind of the public should have been educated to its beauty, +and they had been forced to acknowledge it. A decided warfare ensued +between this opera and the public, each party being determined to +have its own way; the authorities persevered in having the performance +repeated, and the public kept away from it with equal obstinacy. The +latter, however, had the advantage in this case, for they could not be +forced to attend where they were unwilling to go, and so they won the +victory, and the authorities had to yield. + +Paesiello, touched to the quick by the failure of Proserpina, resigned +his position as leader, and left Paris to return to Italy. The question +now was, how to fill this important and honorable position. The +Parisians were excited about this nomination, and divided into two +parties, each of which defended its candidate with the greatest zeal, +and maintained that he would be the one who would receive Bonaparte’s +appointment. The candidates of these two parties were the Frenchman +Mehul and the Italian Cherubini. Those who formed the party of Cherubini +calculated especially on Bonaparte’s well-known preference for Italian +music. They knew that, though he was much attached to Mehul, whom he had +known before the expedition to Egypt, and had shown him many favors, yet +he had often expressed his contempt for French music, and was committed +against him by the very fact of his maintaining that the Italians alone +understood the art of musical composition. + +Mehul had for a long time endured in silence the criticisms of +Bonaparte; he had patiently returned no answer when he repeated to him: +“Science, and only science--that is all the French musicians understand; +my dear sir, grace, melody, and joyousness, are unknown to you Frenchmen +and to the Germans; the Italians alone are masters here.” + +One day Mehul, having become tired of these constant discouraging +remarks, resolved to let the first consul, who so often gave him bitter +pills to swallow, have a taste of them himself. + +He went, therefore, to his friend, the poet Marsollier, and begged him +to write an extremely lively and extravagant piece, whose design +would be absurd enough to make it pass as the work of some Italian +pamphlet-writer, and at the same time he enjoined the most profound +secrecy. + +Marsollier complied willingly with the wishes of his friend, and after +a few days he brought him the text for the small opera Irato. With the +same alacrity did Mehul sit down to the task of composing, and when the +work was done, Marsollier went to the committee of the comic opera to +tell them he had just received from Italy a score whose music was +so extraordinary that he was fully convinced of its success, and +had therefore been to the trouble, notwithstanding the weakness and +foolishness of the libretto, to translate the text into French. The +committee tried the score, was enchanted with the music, and was fully +convinced of the brilliant success of the little opera, inasmuch as the +strange and lively text was well adapted to excite the hilarity and the +merriment of the public. The first singers of the opera were rivals for +the parts; all the newspapers published the pompous advertisement that +in a short time would be performed at the Opera Comique a charming, +entrancing opera, the maiden piece of a young Italian. + +Finally its first performance was announced; the first consul declared +that he and his wife would attend, and he invited Mehul, whom he liked +to tease and worry, because he loved him from his heart, to attend the +performance in his loge. + +“It will undoubtedly be a mortification to you, my poor friend,” said +he, laughing; “but perhaps when you hear this enchanting music, so +different from that of the French, you will imitate it, and cease +composing.” + +Mehul replied with a bow; he then began to excuse himself from +accompanying the first consul to the theatre; and it was only after +Bonaparte and Josephine had pressed him very much, that he accepted the +invitation, and went with them to their loge. + +The opera began, and, immediately after the first melody, Bonaparte +applauded and expressed his admiration. There never had been any +thing more charming--never had the French written music with so much +freshness, elegance, or so naturally. Bonaparte continued his praise, +and often-times repeated: “It is certain there is nothing superior to +Italian music.” + +At last the opera ended amid a real storm of applause; and, with their +enthusiasm at the highest pitch, the audience claimed to know the names +of the poet and of the composer. After a long pause the curtain rose and +the registrar appeared; he made the three customary bows, and in a loud +voice named Marsollier as the author and Mehul as the composer of the +opera Irato. + +The audience received this news with an unceasing storm of applause. +They, like the consul and the singers who had taken part in the opera, +knew nothing of the mystification, so well had the secret been kept. + +Josephine turned smilingly to Bonaparte, and with her own charming grace +offered her hand to Mehul and thanked him for the twofold enjoyment he +had that day prepared for her, by furnishing her his entrancing opera, +and by having prepared a little defeat of Bonaparte, that traitor to his +country, who dared prefer the Italian music to the French. + +Bonaparte himself looked at the affair on its bright side; he had +enjoyed the opera; he had laughed; he was satisfied, and consequently he +overlooked the deceitful surprise. + +“Conquer me always in this manner!” said he, laughing, to Mehul, “and I +shall enjoy both your fame and my amusement.” + +The friends of Cherubini thought of this little event when the question +arose as to the appointment to the situation of first singer at the +Grand Opera, and they therefore did not hesitate to wager that Cherubini +would be appointed, since he was an Italian. + +But they knew not that Bonaparte had pardoned Mehul, and frequently +joked with him, whilst he ever grumbled at Cherubini on account of an +expression which the latter had once allowed himself to use against +General Bonaparte. + +Bonaparte had conversed with Cherubini after a representation of one of +his operas, and, while he congratulated him, he however added that this +opera did not please him as much as the other pieces of Cherubini--that +he thought it somewhat sober and scientific, and that he missed in +it the accustomed richness of the maestro’s melodies. This criticism +wounded Cherubini as if pierced by a dagger, and with the irritable +vehemence of an Italian he replied: + +“General, busy yourself in winning battles--that is your trade; but +leave me to practise mine, about which you know nothing.” + +The Consul Bonaparte had neither forgotten nor pardoned Cherubini’s +answer; and, despite his fondness for Italian music, he was resolved to +give to Mehul the position vacated by Paesiello. + +Josephine approved entirely of this choice, and, in order to witness +Mehul’s joy, she invited him to Malmaison, that the consul might +there inform him of his appointment. How great, however, was her and +Bonaparte’s surprise, when Mehul, instead of being delighted with this +distinguished appointment, positively refused to accept it! + +“I can accept this position only under one condition,” said Mehul, +“which is, that I may be allowed to divide it with my friend Cherubini.” + +“Do not speak to me about him,” exclaimed Bonaparte, with animation; “he +is a coarse man, and I cannot tolerate him.” + +“He may have had the misfortune to displease you,” replied Mehul, +eagerly, “but he is a master to us all, and especially as regards sacred +music. He now is in a very inferior position; he has a large family, and +I sincerely desire to reconcile him to you.” + +“I repeat to you that I do not wish to know any thing about him.” + +“In that case I must decline the position,” said Mehul, gravely, +“and nothing will alter my resolution. I am a member of the +Institute--Cherubini is not; I do not wish it to be said that I +have misused the good-will with which you honor me for the sake of +confiscating to my profit every situation, and of despoiling a man of +reputation of the reward to which he is most justly entitled.” + +And Mehul, notwithstanding Josephine’s intercession and Bonaparte’s +ill-will, remained firm in his decision; he would not accept the +honorable and distinguished position of first singer at the Grand Opera; +and Bonaparte, after expressing his determination, would not change it. +Neither would he confer upon Cherubini the honor refused by Mehnl. He +therefore commissioned Josephine to name a successor to Paesiello; and +she went to Madame de Montesson, to confer with her on the matter. + +Madame de Montesson could suggest no definite plan, but she told +Josephine of a French composer, of the name of Lesueur, who, +notwithstanding his great talents, lived in his native city of Paris +poor and unknown, and who had not succeeded in having his opera, “The +Bards,” represented at the Grand Opera, simply on the ground that he +was a Frenchman, and that every one knew Bonaparte’s strange aversion to +French music. + +Josephine’s generous heart at once took sides with Lesueur; her +exquisite tact taught her that the public ought to know that the first +consul would not consult his own personal gratification, when the +question was to render justice to a Frenchman. She therefore recommended +to her husband, with all her ability, the poor composer Lesueur, who was +unknown to fame, and lost in obscurity; she represented his appointment +as such an act of generosity and of policy, that Bonaparte acceded to +her wishes at once, and appointed Lesueur to the office of first master +of the Grand Opera. + +And Josephine had the pleasure of seeing that the new opera-leader +justified her expectations. His opera, “The Bards,” was naturally +brought into requisition; it had a brilliant and unexampled success, +and even Bonaparte, at the first representation, forgot his prejudices +against French music, and applauded quite as heartily as if it had been +Italian. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. PRELUDE TO THE EMPIRE. + + +The sun of happiness which for Josephine seemed to shine so brightly +over Malmaison, had nevertheless its long shadows and its dark specks; +even her gracious countenance was obscured, her heart filled with +sad forebodings, and her bosom stung as if by scorpions hidden under +flowers. + +Josephine had in her immediate circle violent and bitter enemies, who +were ever busy in undermining the influence which she possessed over her +husband, to steal from his heart the love he cherished for her, and to +remove from his side the woman who, by her presence, kept them in the +shade, and who wielded or destroyed the influence which they desired to +have over him. + +These enemies were the brothers and especially the sisters of +Bonaparte. Among the brothers of the first consul, Lucien showed to his +sister-in-law the most violent and irreconcilable enmity. He left no +means untried to do her injury, and to convert her into an object of +suspicion, and this because he was convinced that Josephine was the +prime cause of the hostile sentiments of Napoleon against him, and +because he believed that, Josephine once out of the way, Napoleon’s +ear would be open to conviction, and that he, Lucien, the most powerful +citizen, next to his brother, would be the second “first consul.” He +was not aware that Napoleon’s keen eagle eye had fathomed his ambitious +heart; that he was the one who kept Lucien away, because he mistrusted +him, because he feared his ambition, and even looked upon him as capable +of the bold design of casting Napoleon aside, and setting himself up +in his place. Lucien was unaware of the influence which Josephine +frequently exerted over the mind of the first consul, in favor of +himself; that it was she who had pacified Napoleon’s anger at Lucien’s +marriage, contracted without his consent, and prevented him from +annulling it violently. The other brothers of Napoleon, influenced, +perhaps, by the enmity of Lucien, were also disaffected toward their +sister-in-law, and of them all, only Louis, the youngest, the one who +loved the first consul most tenderly and most sincerely, showed toward +her due respect and affection. + +His three sisters were still more active in their opposition. Constantly +quarrelling among themselves, they, however, united heartily in the +common feeling of hatred to Josephine. It was she who stood in their +way, who every day excited anew their anger by the position she held at +Napoleon’s side, and in virtue of which the three sisters were thrust +into the background. Josephine, the wife of the first consul, was the +one to whom France made obeisance, upon whom the ambassadors of foreign +powers first waited, and afterward upon the sisters of the first consul. +It was Josephine who took the precedence in solemn ceremonies, and to +whom, by Bonaparte’s commands, they had to manifest respect. And +this woman, who by her eminence placed the sisters of Bonaparte in an +inferior position, was not of nobler or more distinguished blood than +they; she was not young, she was not beautiful, she was not even able to +give birth to a child, for which her husband so intensely longed. + +The three sisters might have been submissive to the daughter of a +prince, they might have conceded to her the right of precedence, but the +widow of the Viscount de Beauharnais was not superior to them in rank +or birth; she was far inferior to them in beauty and youth--and yet they +had to give way to her, and see her take the first place! + +From these sentiments of jealousy and envy sprang the enmity which the +three sisters of Bonaparte, Madame Elise Bacciocchi, Madame Pauline +Borghese, and Madame Caroline Murat, cherished against Josephine, and +which her gentle words and kind heart could never assuage. + +Josephine was in their way--she must therefore fall. Such is the key to +the right understanding of the conduct of the three beautiful sisters +of Napoleon toward the wife of their brother. In their violence they +disregarded all propriety, and shrank from no calumny or malice to +accomplish their ends. It was a constant warfare with intrigues and +malicious suspicions. Every action of Josephine was observed, every step +was watched, in the hope of finding something to render her suspicious +to her husband. On every occasion the three sisters besieged him with +complaints concerning the lofty and proud demeanor of Josephine, and +ridiculed him about his old, childless wife, who stood in the way of +his growing fame! Though Bonaparte in these conflicts always sided with +Josephine against his sisters, yet there probably remained in his heart +a sting from the ridicule which they had directed against him. + +This hostility of the Bonaparte family was not unknown to Josephine; her +soul suffered under these ceaseless attacks, her heart was agonized at +the thought that the efforts of her sisters-in-law might finally succeed +in withdrawing from her the love of her husband. She was persuaded that +even in the Bonaparte family she needed a protector, that she must +look for one among the brothers, so as to counteract the enmity of the +sisters; and she chose for this Louis Bonaparte. She entreated Napoleon +to give to his young, beloved brother the hand of her daughter Hortense. +It would be a new bond chaining Bonaparte to her--a new fortress for +her love--if he would but make her daughter his sister-in-law, and his +brother her son-in-law. + +Napoleon did not oppose her wishes; he consented that Hortense should be +married to his brother. It is true the young people were not consulted; +for the first time, Josephine’s selfishness got the better of her love +for her child--she sacrificed the welfare of her daughter to secure her +own happiness. + +But Hortense loved another, yet she yielded to the entreaties and tears +of her mother, and became the wife of this laconic, timid young man, +whose meagre, unpretending appearance resembled so little the ideal +which her maidenly heart had pictured of her future husband. + +Louis on his side had not the slightest inclination for Hortense; he +never would have chosen her for his wife, for their characters were too +different; their inclinations and wishes were not in sympathy with each +other. But through obedience to the wishes of his brother, he accepted +the proffered hand of Josephine’s daughter, and became the husband of +the beautiful, blond-haired Hortense de Beauharnais. + +In February, of the year 1802, the marriage of the young couple took +place, and this family event was celebrated with the most magnificent +festivities. Josephine’s joy and happiness were complete--she had thrown +a bridge over the abyss, and was now secure against the hostilities of +her sisters-in-law, by giving up her own daughter. + +Every thing was resplendent with beauty and joy at these festivities; +every thing wore an appearance of happiness; only the countenances of +the newly-married couple were grave and sad, and their deep melancholy +contrasted strikingly with the happiness of which they themselves were +the cause. Adorned with diamonds and flowers, Hortense appeared to be a +stranger to all the pomp which surrounded her, and to be occupied only +with her own sad communings. Louis Bonaparte was pale and grave, like +Hortense; he seldom addressed a word to the young wife that the orders +of his brother had given him; and she avoided her husband’s looks, +perhaps to hinder him from reading there the indifference and dislike +she felt for him. [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine, la +Cour de Navarre,” etc., par Mlle. Ducrest, vol. i., p. 49.] + +But Josephine was happy, for she knew the noble, faithful, and generous +spirit of the man to whom she had given her daughter; and she trusted +that the two young hearts, now that they were linked together, would +soon love one another. She hoped much more from this alliance; she hoped +not only to find in it a shield against domestic animosities, but also +to give to her husband, even if indirectly, the children he so much +desired--for the offspring of his brother and the daughter of his +Josephine would be nearly the same as his own, and they could adopt +and love them as such. This was Josephine’s hope, the dream of her +happiness, when she gave her daughter in marriage to the brother of her +husband. + +The fact that the first consul was childless was not only a family +solicitude, it was also a political question. The people themselves had +changed the face of affairs, they had by solemn vote decided to confer +the consulate for life upon Napoleon, who had previously been elected +for ten years only. In other words, the French people had chosen +Bonaparte for their master and ruler, and he now lacked but the title +to be king. Every one felt and knew that this consulate for life was +but the prelude to royalty; that the golden laurel-wreath of the first +consul would soon be converted into a golden crown, so as to secure to +France an enduring peace, and to make firm its political situation. + +With her keen political instinct, Josephine trembled at the thought +that the King or Emperor Bonaparte would have to establish for himself +a dynasty--that he would have to appease the apprehensions of France +by offering to the nation a son who would be his legitimate heir and +successor. Thus was the subject of divorce kept hanging over her head +until the conviction was forced upon her mind that some day Napoleon +would be led into sacrificing his love to politics. Josephine was +conscious of it, and consequently the hopes of Napoleon’s future +greatness, which so pleased his brothers and sisters, only made her +sorrowful, and she therefore entreated Bonaparte with tender appeal to +remain content with the high dignity he already possessed, and not to +tempt fate, nor to allow it to bear him up to a dizzy height, from which +the stormy winds of adversity might the more easily prostrate him. + +Bonaparte listened to her with a smile, and generally in silence. Once +only he replied to her: “Has not your prophetess in Martinique told you +that one day you would be more than a queen?” + +“And the prophecy is already realized,” exclaimed Josephine. “The wife +of the consul for life is more than a queen, for her husband is the +elect of thirty millions of hearts!” Bonaparte laughed, and said +nothing. + +Another time Josephine asked him--“Now, Bonaparte, when are you going to +make me Empress of the Gauls?” + +He shrugged his shoulders. “What an idea,” said he; “the little +Josephine an empress!” + +Josephine answered him with the words of Corneille--“‘Le premier qui fut +roi fut un soldat heureux’” (the first king was a successful soldier); +and she added, “The wife of this fortunate soldier shares his rank.” + +He placed his small, white hand, adorned with rings, under her chin, and +gazed at her with a deep, strange look. + +“Now, Josephine,” said he, after a short pause, “your successful soldier +is only, for the present, consul for life, and you are sharing his rank. +Be careful, then, that the wife of the first consul surrounds herself +with all the brilliancy and the pomp which beseem her dignity. No more +economy, no more modest simplicity! The industry of France is at a low +ebb--we must make it rise. We must give receptions; we must prove to +France that the court of a consul can be as splendid as that of a king. +You understand what pomp is--none better than you! Now show yourself +brilliant, magnificent, so that the other ladies may imitate you. But, +no foreign stuffs! Silk and velvet from the fabrics of Lyons!” + +“Yes,” said Josephine, with charming tenderness, “and when afterward my +bills become due, you cut them down--you find them too high.” + +“I only cut down what is too exorbitant,” said Bonaparte, laughing. “I +have no objection for you to give to the manufacturers any amount +of work and profit, but I do not wish them to cheat you.” [Footnote: +Abrantes, “Memoires” vol. iv.] + +Henceforth, the consulate began gradually to exhibit a splendor and pomp +which were behind no princely court, and which relegated, amid the dark +legends of the fabulous past, the fraternity and the equality of the +republic. The absence of pretension, and the simplicity of Malmaison, +were now done away with; everywhere the consul for life was followed by +the splendors of his dignity, and everywhere Josephine was accompanied +by her court. + +For now she had a court, and an anteroom, with all its intrigues and +flatteries; and its conspiracies already wove their chains around the +consul and his wife. It was not suddenly, it was not spontaneously, that +this court of the first consul was formed; two years were required +for its organization--two years of unceasing labor on the new code of +regulations, which etiquette dictated from the remembrances of the past +to the palace-officers of the Consul Bonaparte. “How was this in times +past? What was the practice?” Such were the constant questions in the +interior of the Tuileries, and for the answers they appealed to Madame +de Montesson, to the old courtiers, the servants and adherents of +royalty. Instead of creating every thing new, they turned by degrees +to the usages and manners of the past. Always and in all countries +have there been seen at courts caricatures and persons of ill-mannered +awkwardness; at the opening of the court of the first consul it is +probable that these existed, and appeared still more strange to those +who had been used to the manners, traditions, and language of the +ancient court of Versailles. Their awkwardness, however, was soon +overcome; and Josephine understood so well the rare art of presiding at +a court establishment--she was such an accomplished mistress of refined +manners and of noble deportment--she united to the perfect manners of +the old nobility the most exquisite adroitness, and she knew so well how +to adapt all these advantages to every new circumstance--that soon every +one bowed to her sovereignty and submitted to her laws. + +From the glittering halls of the Tuileries there soon disappeared the +sword and the uniform, to be replaced by the gold-embroidered dress, the +silk stockings, and the chapeau bras; and on the glassy floors of +the Tuileries generals and marshals appeared as fine cavaliers, who, +submitting to the rules of etiquette, left behind with their regiments +the coarse language of the camp. Many of these young generals and heroes +had married the beautiful but impoverished daughters of the +aristocrats of old monarchical France. These young women, who were the +representatives of the ancient noblesse, brought to the Tuileries the +traditions of their mothers, and distinguished themselves by the ease +of their courtly deportment and their graceful manners; and they thus +unconsciously became the teachers of the other young women, who, like +their husbands, owed their aristocratic name only to the sword and to +their fresh laurels, and not to ancient escutcheons. + +In the Tuileries and in St. Cloud there were reception-days, +audience-days, and great and small levees, at which were assembled all +that France possessed of rank, name, and fame, and where the ambassadors +of all the powers accredited at the court of the consul, where all the +higher clergy and the pope’s nuncio, appeared in full dress. + +Bonaparte ventured to remove still further from the landmarks of the +revolution, and from its so-called conquests. He restored to France the +church; he reopened the temples of religion, and he also gave back to +the people their priests. + +Just as in the days of old monarchical France, every Sunday, and at +every festival, a solemn mass was said at St. Cloud; and in the glass +gallery on the way to the chapel, Bonaparte received petitions +and granted short audiences. France, with the instinct of its old +inclinations and habits, readily returned to this new order of things; +and even those who once had with enthusiasm saluted the Goddess of +Reason, went now, with hands joined in prayer and eyes bent low, to +Notre Dame, to offer again their supplications to the God of Love. + +Every thing seemed to return to the old track, every thing was as in the +days preceding the revolution--the re-establishment of the throne, the +national, willing approbation that the republic had become a monarchy, +was, however, still wanting. + +Finally, on the 18th of May, 1804, France spoke out the decisive word, +and, by the voice of its representatives the senators, it offered to +Bonaparte the crown, and requested him to ascend as emperor the throne +of France. + +Napoleon acceded to these wishes, and, as the senate, in a ceremonious +procession, marshalled by Cambaceres, came to St. Cloud to communicate +to Bonaparte the wish of France, and to offer to him and to Josephine +the dignities of an empire, he accepted it without surprise, and +apparently without joy, and allowed himself to be proclaimed NAPOLEON, +THE FIRST EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH. + +On this memorable day, after Cambaceres, in the name of the senate and +of France, had addressed the first consul as the actual emperor, he +turned to Josephine, who, with that unparalleled admixture of grandeur, +grace, and tender womanly beauty, which were all so especially her own, +was present at this audience at Napoleon’s side. + +“Madame,” said Cambaceres, “there remains yet to the senate a pleasant +duty to perform: to bring to your imperial majesty the homage of its +respect and the expression of gratitude of the French people. Yes, +madame, the public sentiment acknowledges the good which you are ever +performing; that you are always accessible to the unfortunate; that you +use your influence with the chief magistrate only to diminish evil, and +to procure a hearing to those who seek it; and that your majesty +with this well-doing combines the most amiable tenderness, rendering +thankfulness a pleasant duty. These noble qualities of your majesty +foretell that the name of the Empress Josephine will be a watchword +of trust and hope; and, as the virtues of Napoleon will ever be to his +followers an example to teach them the difficult art of government, +so also, the lively remembrance of your goodness will teach to their +honorable wives that to strive to dry the tear is the surest means of +ruling the heart. The senate deems itself happy in being the first +to congratulate your imperial majesty, and he who has the honor of +addressing you these sentiments in the name of the senate, dares trust +that you will ever number him among your most faithful servants.” + +It was, then, decided! France had accepted her master, and Cambaceres in +his solemn address had already marked out the situation of France and of +her rulers. Bonaparte and Josephine were now their imperial majesties, +the senators were their most faithful servants. What remained to the +people but to call themselves “faithful subjects?” + +The people, however, had made known their wishes only through the voice +of the senate; it was the senators who had converted Bonaparte into the +Emperor Napoleon; but the people were also to make their will known in a +solemn manner; they were, through a universal public suffrage, to decide +whether the imperial dignity should be given only for life to Napoleon +the First, Emperor of the French, or whether it should be hereditary in +his family. + +France, wearied with storms and divisions, decided with her five +millions of votes for the hereditary imperial dignity in Bonaparte’s +family, and thus the people of France created their fourth dynasty. + +Meanwhile Josephine received this new decision of the nation, not with +that disquietude and care which she had formerly experienced. +Bonaparte had given her the deepest and strongest proof of his love +and faithfulness. He had not only withstood the pressure of his whole +family, which had conjured him before his election to the empire to be +divorced from his childless wife, but he had in the generosity of his +love appointed his heirs and successors, and these were to be the sons +of Hortense. The senate had decreed that the imperial dignity should be +transmitted as a heritage to Napoleon’s two brothers Joseph and +Louis, and moreover they had given to Napoleon the right to choose his +successors and heirs from the families of the two brothers. + +Napoleon had given to Josephine the strongest proof of affection--he had +declared the son of her daughter Hortense and of his brother Louis, the +little Napoleon Louis, to be his successor and heir, and the idea of +a divorce no longer caused apprehensions before which Josephine need +tremble. + +Bonaparte had appointed the sons of his brother and of Josephine’s +daughter as his heirs, and the heir of the new imperial throne was +already born. Hortense’s youth made it hopeful that she would add to the +new branch of the Napoleonic dynasty new leaves and new boughs. + +Josephine could now rejoice in her happiness and her glory; she could +abandon herself to the new splendors of her life with all the enjoyment +of her sensitive and excitable nature. She could now receive with smiles +and with affable condescension the homage of France, for she was not +only empress by a nation’s vote, but she was also empress by the choice +of Napoleon her husband. + +The brilliancy of this new and glorious horizon was soon overhung by a +sombre cloud. The execution of the Duke d’Enghien threw its dark shadows +from the last days of the consulate upon the truly royalist heart of +Josephine; and now that heart was to receive fresh wounds through the +royalists, to whom she had remained true with all the memories of +youth, and in whose behalf she had so often, so zealously, and so warmly +interceded with her husband. + +A new conspiracy against Napoleon’s life was discovered, and this time +it was the men of the highest ranks of the old aristocracy who were +implicated in it. George Cadoudal, the unwearied conspirator, had, while +in England, planned with the leaders of the monarchical party residing +in France, or who were away from it, a new conspiracy, whose object was +to destroy Bonaparte and to re-establish the monarchy. + +But Fate was again on the side of the hero of Arcola. His good star +still protected him. The conspiracy was discovered, and all those +concerned in it were arrested. Among them were the Generals Pichegru and +Moreau, the Counts de Polignac, Riviere, Saint Coster, Charles d’Hozier, +and many others of the leading and most distinguished royalists. They +were now under the avenging sword of justice, and the tribunal had +condemned twenty of the accused to death, among whom were the above +named. The emperor alone had the power to save them and to extend mercy. +But he was this time determined to exhibit a merciless severity, so as +to put an end to the royalists, and to prove to them that he was the +ruler of France, and that the people without a murmur had given him the +power to punish, as guilty of high-treason, those who dared touch their +emperor. + +Josephine’s heart, however, remained true to her memories and her piety; +and, according to her judgment, those who, with so much heroic loyalty, +remained true to the exiled monarchy, were criminals only as they had +imperilled her husband’s life, but criminals who, since their plans were +destroyed, deserved pardon, because they had sinned through devotion to +sacred principles. + +Josephine, therefore, opposed Bonaparte’s anger, and begged for pardon +for the son of the former friend of Queen Marie Antoinette, the Count +Jules de Polignac. Bonaparte, however, remained inexorable; he repelled +Josephine with vehemence, reproaching her for asking for the life of +those who threatened his. But she would not be deterred; since Bonaparte +had turned her away with her petitions and prayers, she wanted at least +to give to the wife of the Count de Polignac an opportunity to ask +pardon for her condemned husband. Despite Bonaparte’s wrath, Josephine +led the Countess de Polignac into a corridor through which the emperor +had to pass, when he went from the council-room into his cabinet, and by +this means the countess was fortunate enough, by her tears and prayers, +to save her husband’s life. The Count de Polignac was pardoned; and now +that Bonaparte’s heart had once been opened to mercy, he also granted to +Josephine the lives of Count Riviere and of General Lajolais, in behalf +of whom Hortense had appealed to the emperor. More than twenty of the +conspirators were accused and sentenced, some to death and some to +severe punishment, but one-half of the accused were, thanks to the +prayers of Josephine and of her daughter, pardoned; a few were put to +death, and the rest transported. Pichegru committed suicide in prison; +Moreau received permission to emigrate to America; George Cadoudal +perished on the scaffold. + +After this last fruitless attempt to re-establish in France the throne +of the Bourbons, the royalists, wearied and terrified, had at least +for a time to withdraw into obscurity and solitude, and the +newly-established empire appeared in still more striking magnificence. +The monarchy by God’s grace had been conquered by the empire by the +people’s grace, and Napoleon wanted now to show himself to astonished +Europe in all the glory of his new dignity. He therefore undertook a +journey with his wife through the conquered German provinces; he went +to Aix-la-Chapelle, to the city of coronation of the ancient German +emperors, and which now belonged to imperial France; he went to Mayence, +the golden Mayence of the old Roman days, and which now, after so many +streams of bloodshed, had been transferred to France. + +This journey of the emperor and empress was one uninterrupted triumphal +procession; the population of the old German city applauded, in +dishonorable faithlessness, the new foreign ruler; all the clergy +received their imperial majesties at the door of the cathedral, where +Germany’s first emperor, Charlemagne, was buried; and, to flatter the +Empress Josephine, the clergy caused a miracle to be performed by her +hand. There existed in the sacred treasury of the cathedral a casket of +gold, containing the most precious relics, but which was never opened to +the eyes of mortals, and whose lock no key fitted. Only once a year was +this precious, sacred casket of relics shown to the worshipping crowd, +and then locked up in the holy shrine. But for Josephine this treasury +was condescendingly opened, and to the empress was presented this casket +of relics, and behold, the miracle took place! At the touch of the +empress the lid of the casket sprang up, and in it were seen the +most precious jewels of royalty, amongst which was the seal-ring of +Charlemagne. [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii.] No one was more +surprised at this miracle than the clergy! + +The neighboring German princes came to ancient Mayence to do homage to +Josephine, and to win the favor of the sovereign of France toward their +little principalities, and to assure him of their devotedness. Bonaparte +already understood how to receive the humble, flattering German princes +with the mien of a gracious protector, and to look upon them with the +eye of an emperor, to whom not only the nations but also the princes +must bow; and Josephine also excited the admiration of genuine princes +and legitimate princesses, by the graciousness and grandeur, by the +unaffected dignity and ease with which she knew how to represent the +sovereign and the empress. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. THE POPE IN PARIS. + + +Fate had reserved another triumph for the ruler of France, the Emperor +Napoleon--the triumph that the empire by the people’s grace should be +converted and exalted into the empire by God’s grace. Pope Pius VII., +full of thankfulness that Napoleon had re-established the Church in +France, and restored to the clergy their rights, had consented to come +to Paris for the sake of giving to the empire, created by the will +of the French people, the benediction of the Church, and in solemn +coronation to place the imperial crown on the head anointed by the hands +of God’s vice-gerent. + +Bonaparte received this news with the lofty composure of an emperor who +finds it quite natural that the whole world should bow to his wishes, +and Josephine received it with the modesty and joyous humility of a +pious Christian. She desired above all things the blessing of God and of +the Church to rest upon this crown, whose possession had seemed to her +until now a spoliation, a sacrilege, and about which her conscience so +often reproached her. But when God’s vicegerent, when the Holy Father of +Christendom should himself have blessed her husband’s crown, and should +have made fast on Josephine’s brow the imperial diadem, then all blame +was removed, then the empress could hope that Heaven’s blessing would +accompany the new emperor and his wife! + +But was it really Napoleon’s wish that Josephine should take part in +this grand ceremony of coronation? Did he wish that, like him, she +should receive from the hands of the pope the consecrated crown? + +Such was the deep, important question which occupied, at the approaching +arrival of the pope, the young imperial court; a question, too, +which occupied Josephine’s mind, and also the whole family, and more +especially the sisters of Bonaparte. + +Josephine naturally desired that it should be so, for this solemn +coronation would be a new bond uniting her to her husband, a new +guaranty against the evil which the empress’s foreboding spirit still +dreaded. But for the very same reasons her enemies prepared their +weapons to prevent Josephine from obtaining this new consecration and +this new glory, and harsh and bitter conflicts took place within the +inner circles of the imperial family on account of it, which on both +sides were carried on with the deepest animosity and obstinacy, but +finally to a complete triumph for Josephine. + +Thiers, in his “History of the Consulate and of the Empire,” relates the +last scenes in this family quarrel: + +“Napoleon vacillated between his affection for his wife and the secret +presentiments of his policy, when an occurrence took place which nearly +caused the sudden ruin of the unfortunate Josephine. Every one was in a +state of agitation about the new monarch--brothers, sisters, and allies! +In the solemnity which seemed to give to each a blessing, all desired to +perform parts adequate to their actual pretensions, and to their hopes +of the future. At the sight of this restlessness, and witnessing the +pretensions and claims to which Napoleon was exposed from one of his +sisters, Josephine, carried away by anxiety and jealousy, gave utterance +to an insulting suspicion against his sister and against Napoleon, a +suspicion which agreed with the most bitter calumnies of the royalist +emigrants. Napoleon grew violently angry, and, as his wrath mastered his +better feelings, he declared to Josephine that he wanted to be divorced +from her; that he would have to be, sooner or later, and that it was +therefore better to announce it on the spot, before other bonds should +unite them still closer together. He sent for his two adopted children, +communicated to them this decision, and thus produced on them a most +painful impression. Hortense and Eugene de Beauharnais declared with +a sad but unwavering determination that they would follow their mother +into the exile which was being prepared for her. Josephine manifested +a resigned and dignified sorrow. The contrast of their sorrow with the +satisfaction which the other portion of the imperial family manifested, +deeply lacerated Napoleon’s heart, and he relented; for he could not +consent to see the companion of his youth and her children, who had been +the objects of his deserved affection, made so unhappy by being forced +into exile. He took Josephine in his arms, told her with emotion that +he could never have the strength to part from her, even if policy itself +should dictate it; and he then promised her that she should be crowned +with him, and at his side should receive from the pope the divine +blessing.” [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire.” + vol. v., p. 249.] + +Josephine, therefore, had won a victory over the hostile sisters, but +this defeat made them still more embittered, and though they were now +compelled to recognize Josephine as the imperial wife of their brother, +yet they would retreat only step by step, and at “least secure a place +near the imperial throne, and not be compelled by the empress to stand +behind. Yet this was exactly what was to take place according to the +programme, which prescribed for the festivity in Notre Dame that on the +day of coronation the brothers of the emperor should carry the trail of +his mantle, and that his sisters should at the same time carry the trail +of the empress’s mantle. But the sisters of Napoleon decidedly opposed +this arrangement. + +“The emperor, tired of these constant wranglings and domestic strifes, +decided as judge, and declared he would no longer listen to these +unheard-of and unjustifiable pretensions. + +“‘Truly,’ said he, to the beautiful Pauline, who, as Princess Borghese, +considered herself justified in making opposition, ‘truly, one would +think, after listening to you, that I have despoiled you of the +inheritance of the most blessed king our father.’” [Footnote: “Histoire +du Consulat,” vol. v., p. 251.] + +The ambitious sisters, kept within bounds by the angry voice of their +brother, who now for the first time showed himself their ruling emperor, +had to fall into their places, and abide by the regulations of the +ceremony. + +Nothing was wanted now to perfect the sacred celebration which was +to crown all the triumphs and victories of Napoleon, nothing but the +arrival of the pope: the whole imperial family, as well as France, +awaited his advent with impatience. + +At last the couriers brought the news that the pope had touched the +French soil, and that the people were streaming toward him to manifest +their respect, and to implore his blessing on their knees; the same +people who precisely ten years before had closed the churches, driven +the priests into exile, and consecrated their bacchanalian worship to +the Goddess of Reason! + +At last, on the 25th day of November, the pope entered Fontainebleau, +where the emperor and the empress had hastened to receive him. No sooner +was the pope’s approach announced, than Napoleon mounted his horse and +rode to meet him some distance on the way. In the centre of the road +took place the first interview between the representative of Christendom +and the youngest son of the Church, a son who now sat on the throne of +those who in former times had enjoyed the privilege of being called the +elder sons of the Church. + +The pope alighted from his carriage as soon as the emperor was in +sight; Napoleon dismounted and hastened to meet and embrace tenderly +his holiness, and then to ascend with him the carriage, the question of +precedence remaining undecided, as the pope and the emperor entered the +carriage at the same time from opposite sides. + +Josephine, surrounded by the official dignitaries, the ministers of +state, and all the generals, received the pope under the peristyle of +the palace of Fontainebleau; and then, after Napoleon had led him into +his room, Josephine, accompanied by her ladies, went to welcome Pius, +not as empress, but as an humble, devout daughter of the Church, who +wished to implore a blessing from the Holy Father of Christendom. +Josephine was deeply moved; her whole being was agitated and exalted at +once by this greatest of all the privileges which destiny had reserved +for her, and by this consecration which she was to receive at the hands +of the vicar of Christ. + +As the pope, agreeably affected by this respect and emotion of the +empress, offered her his hand with a genial smile, Josephine, humble as +a little girl, sank down on her knees before him, kissed his hand, and +with streaming eyes implored his benediction. Pius, in his soft, winning +manner, promised to love her as a daughter, and that she should ever +find in him a father. + +The empress, deeply moved by this affectionate condescension of the +pope, and impressed by the importance and solemnity of the moment, +bade her ladies withdraw, whilst she, in solitude and silence, as a +confessing child before the priest, should unveil her innermost heart +to the Holy Father. She then sank down upon her knees, and, stammering, +ashamed, with her voice broken by her sobs, acknowledged to the pope +that her marriage to Napoleon had never received, the consecration of +the Church; that, contracted amid the stormy days of the revolution, it +still lacked the blessing hand of the priest, and that her own husband +was to be blamed for this neglect. In vain had she often besought him +that, since he had restored the Church to Prance, he should himself give +to the world a striking example of his own return by having his marriage +blessed by it. But Napoleon refused, although he had been the cause of +Cardinal Caprera giving to the marriage of his sister Caroline Murat, +long after it had been contracted, the blessing of the Church. + +Pius heard this confession of his imperial penitent with holy +resentment, and he promised her his aid and protection, assuring her he +would refuse the act of coronation if the ecclesiastical marriage did +not precede it. + +No sooner had Josephine left him, than the pope asked for an interview +with the emperor, to whom he declared, with all the zeal of a true +servant of the Church, and the conviction of a devout, God-fearing man, +that he was willing to crown him, and to grant him the blessing of +the Church, for the state of the conscience of emperors had never been +examined before their anointment; but if his wife was to be crowned with +him, he must refuse his co-operation, because in crowning Josephine he +dare not grant the divine sanction to concubinage. + +Napoleon, though inwardly much irritated at Josephine, who, as he at +once supposed, had made this confession to the pope in her own interest, +was still willing to abide by the circumstances. He did not wish to +irritate the pope, who as was well known was unyielding in all matters +pertaining to faith; moreover, he could not change any thing in the +already published ceremonial of the day, and thus he consented to have +the ecclesiastical marriage. After this conversation with the pope, +Napoleon went at once to Josephine, and the whole strength of his anger +was spent in violent reproaches against her untimely indiscretion. + +Josephine endured these silently, and full of inward satisfaction; she +did not listen to Napoleon’s angry words; she only heard that he was +decided to have his marriage sanctioned by the Church, and now she would +be his wife before God, as she had been before men for the last +ten years. Now at last her fate was decided, and her marriage made +irrevocable; now she would no longer dread that Napoleon would punish +her childlessness by a divorce. + +During the night which preceded the day of the coronation, the night +of the 1st of December, the ecclesiastical marriage of Napoleon and +Josephine took place in the chapel of the Tuileries. The only witnesses +were Talleyrand and Berthier, from both of whom the emperor had exacted +an oath of profound silence. Cardinal Fesch, the emperor’s uncle, +performed the ceremony, and pronounced the benediction of the Church +over this marriage, which Bonaparte’s love for Josephine had induced him +to consent to, and which her love endeavored to make indissoluble. + +This marriage, which she desired both as a loving woman and as a devout +Christian, was the most glorious triumph which Josephine had ever +obtained over the enmity of her husband’s sisters, for it was a new +proof of the love and faithfulness of this man, whom neither expediency, +nor family, nor state reasons, could remove from her, and who, with +the hand of love, had guided her away from all the dangers which had +surrounded her. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE CORONATION. + + +At last, on the 2d of December, came the day which Napoleon had during +many years past longed for within the recesses of his heart; the day +which his ambition had hoped for, the day of his solemn coronation. +And now the victorious soldier was to see all his laurels woven into an +imperial crown--that which Julius Caesar had tried to win, and for which +the republic punished him with death. + +But now the republicans were silent: before this new Julius Caesar they +dare not lift up their swords, for the power belonged to him, and that +he knew how to punish had been seen by trembling France not long ago +at the execution of George Cadoudal and his associates, the people +sanctioning those executions. + +There was no Brutus there to plunge the dagger into the breast of the +new Cassar. His was the victory, the throne, the crown; and all France +was in joyous excitement at this new triumph, that the pope himself +should come from Rome to Paris so as to place the crown on the head of +an emperor by the grace of the people, and to make of the elect of the +people an elect of God. + +The day had scarcely begun to dawn when all the streets of Paris through +which the imperial as well as the papal procession had to move toward +Notre Dame were filled with wave-like masses of human beings, who soon +occupied not only the streets but all the windows and all the roofs of +the houses. Those who were fortunate enough to be provided with cards +of admission into Notre Dame, went at six o’clock in the morning to the +cathedral, for whose adorning during the last fourteen days more than a +thousand workmen had been busy, and who had not yet quite finished their +work, retiring only when the approach of the pope and of his suite was +announced. In the interior of the Tuileries began from the commencement +of the day, on three different sides, a lively movement. + +Here, in the apartments which the pope occupied, gathered together the +cardinals, the clergy, and all the church dignitaries who in the pope’s +suite were to proceed to Notre Dame. + +There, in the apartments of the emperor, a host of courtiers and +officers waited from early dawn for the moment when the toilet of the +emperor should be completed, and he should go to the great throne-room, +where the empress and the imperial family would await him. + +The greatest excitement, however, naturally prevailed in the apartments +of the empress, whose toilet occupied a host of chambermaids and ladies +of the court, and which had already been for months the subject of +thought, labor, and art, for painter and embroiderer, and for all +manner of professions, as well as for the master of ceremonies. For this +imperial toilet-ceremonial was to be in accordance with the traditions +of ancient France, but was not, at the same time, to be a mere imitation +of the coronation-toilet of the Bourbons, whom the revolution had +dethroned, the same revolution which had opened for Napoleon the way to +the throne. + +For this important ceremony, therefore, special costumes, somewhat +resembling those of former centuries, had been found. The painter Ingres +had furnished the designs for these costumes, and also plans for the +procession and for the groupings in Notre Dame; he had prepared all this +in pictures of great effect for the emperor’s inspection. But in order +to show to advantage the several costumes, as well as the train of +personages, and the subdivisions of the different groups of the imperial +dignitaries, Ingres had caused small puppets to be dressed in similar +costumes, and arrayed in the order of the procession according to the +prescribed ceremonies for that day; and for weeks the imperial court had +been studying these costumes, and every one’s duty had been to impress +on his mind the position assigned to him for the day of coronation. +[Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 111.] + +The pope’s toilet was the first completed; and at nine o’clock, all +dressed in white, he entered a carriage drawn by eight grays; over it in +gilt bronze were the tiara and the attributes of papacy. In front of the +carriage rode one of his chamberlains upon a white ass, bearing a large +silver cross before God’s vicegerent. Behind it in new carriages came +the cardinals, the prelates, and the Italian officers of the pope’s +palace. + +While the papal train was moving slowly on the quays of the Seine toward +the cathedral, amid the sounds of bells, and the unceasing, joyful +shouts of the people, all was yet in motion within the apartments of +the emperor and empress. On all sides hurried along the dignitaries and +officers who were to form a part of the imperial procession. + +For this day, Napoleon had been obliged to cast off his plain uniform +and substitute the splendid theatrical costume of imperial magnificence. +The stockings were of silk, wrought with gold, embroidered round the +edge with imperial crowns; the shoes were of white velvet, worked and +embroidered with gold; short breeches of white velvet, embroidered with +gold at the hips, and with buttons and buckles of diamonds in the shape +of garters; the vest also was of white velvet, embroidered with gold and +having diamond buttons; the coat was of crimson velvet, with facings of +white velvet along all the seams above and around, and sparkling with +gold; the half-mantle was also crimson, lined with white satin, and +hanging over the left shoulder, while on the right shoulder and upon +the breast it was fastened with a pair of diamond clasps. Sleeves of the +most costly lace fell about the arms; the cravat was of Indian muslin, +the collar likewise of lace; the cap, of black velvet, was adorned with +two plumes and surrounded by a coronet of diamonds, which “the regent” + used as a clasp. Such was the costume which the emperor wore in the +procession from the Tuileries to Notre Dame. In the vestry of the +cathedral he put on the ample state-robes, that is to say, the robe and +mantle of emperor. [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 212.] + +The toilet of the empress was no less splendid and brilliant. It +consisted of an elaborate robe with a long train; this robe was of +silver brocade, with gold bees scattered all over; in front it was +embroidered into a maze of gold-leaves; at the lower edge was a gold +fringe; the shoulders alone were bare; long armlets of wrought gold, and +adorned at the upper part with diamonds, enclosed the arm and covered +one-half of the hand. It required all the art and grace of Josephine +to carry this robe, it being without any waist, and, according to the +fashion of the times, extremely narrow, and yet in wearing it to lose +naught of her elegance or condescending dignity. At the upper part of +the dress rose a collar a la Medicis of lace worked in with gold, and +which Josephine had been constrained to wear, so as at least, through +some historic details, to make her toilet correspond to the costume +of the renaissance worn by Napoleon. A gold girdle, adorned with +thirty-nine diamond rosettes, fastened under the breast her tunic-like +dress. In her fondness for the antique, Josephine, instead of diamonds +and pearls, had preferred for bracelets, ear-rings, and necklace, +some choice stones of rare workmanship. Her beautiful thick hair was +encircled and held together by a splendid diadem, a masterpiece of +modern art. This toilet was to be completed, like that of Napoleon, +before the solemn entrance into the cathedral, by putting on the +imperial mantle, which was fastened on the shoulders with gold buckles +and diamond clasps. + +At last the imperial toilets were completed; all the dignitaries, as +well as the imperial family, gathered together in the throne-room, +ready for the procession. Holding Josephine by the hand, her countenance +expressing deep emotion, and her eye obscured by the tears shed as a +price for the solemn marriage of that night, Napoleon appeared in +the midst of his brilliant courtiers, and received the impressive, +heart-felt wishes of his family, his brothers and sisters, who pressed +around him and the empress, and who at this moment, forgetting all envy +and jealousy, had only words of thankfulness and assurances of love, +devotedness, and loyalty. + +Napoleon replied to them all in the short, comprehensive words which he +addressed to his brother Joseph, whilst with his naming eyes he examined +his brothers and sisters in the brilliant costumes of their dignity and +glory: + +“Joseph,” said he, “could our father see us now!” [Footnote: Meneval, +“Souvenirs,” vol. i., p. 204.] + +From the pomp and solemnity of this important moment the thoughts of the +emperor, for whom the pope was waiting in Notre Dame, wandered far +away to the gloomy, quiet death-bed of his father, whose last hour was +embittered by the tormenting thought of leaving his family unprotected +and with but little means. + +The thundering roar of cannon and the chimes of bells proclaimed that +the emperor and empress, with their train, were now leaving the palace +to ascend into the wonderful carriage made of gold and glass, and which +was waiting for them at the Pavilion de l’Horloge to proceed toward the +cathedral. + +This carriage, prepared expressly for this day’s celebration, was of +enormous size and breadth, with windows on all sides, and entirely alike +in its front and back seats. It therefore happened that their imperial +majesties, on entering the carriage, not thinking of the direction to be +taken, sat down on the front instead of the back seat. + +The empress noticed the mistake, and when she laughingly called the +emperor’s attention to it, they both took the back seat without a +suspicion that this little error was a bad omen. + +Another little mishap occurred before they entered Notre Dame, which +threw a gloom of sad forebodings and fear over the heart of the empress. + +Whilst alighting out of the carriage, the empress, whose hand was +occupied in the holding and carrying her robe and mantle, let slip +from her fingers the imperial ring which the pope had brought her for a +present, and which before the coronation he was to bless, according to +the accustomed ceremonial, and then place it on her finger as a token of +remembrance of the holy consecration. This made Josephine tremble, and +her cheeks turned pale, especially as the ring could nowhere be found. +It had rolled a considerable distance from the carriage, and only after +some minutes did Eugene Beauharnais find it and bring it to his mother, +to her great delight and satisfaction. [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de +l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. ii., p. 283.] + +At last the procession entered Notre Dame, and the brilliant solemnity +began. It is not our purpose to describe here again the ceremony which +has been in all its details portrayed in so many works, and to repeat +the solemn addresses and the different events of this great and +memorable day. It is with Josephine we have to do, and with what +concerns her individual destiny--that alone claims our attentive +consideration. + +One event, however, is to be mentioned. At the moment the emperor took +from the altar the so-called crown of Charles the Great, and with firm +hand placed it on his head--at the moment when he assumed the place of +the ancient Kings of France, a small stone, which had detached itself +from the cupola, fell down, touched his head, leaped on his shoulder, +slipped down his imperial mantle, and rolled over the altar-steps near +to the pope’s throne, where it remained still until an Italian priest +picked it up. [Footnote: Abrantes. “Memoires,” vol. vii., p. 258.] + +At the moment of his loftiest grandeur the destiny of his future aimed +its first stone at him, and marked him as the one upon whom its anger +was to fall. + +This was the third evil omen of the day; but fortunately Josephine had +not noticed it. Her whole soul was absorbed in the sacred rites; and, +after the emperor had crowned himself, her heart trembled with deep +emotion and agitation, for now the moment had come when she was to take +her part in the solemnity. + +The Duchess d’Abrantes, who was quite near Josephine, and an immediate +witness of the whole celebration, depicts the next scene in the +following words: “The moment when the greatest number of eyes were fixed +upon the altar-steps where the emperor stood, was when Josephine was +crowned by him, and was solemnly consecrated Empress of the French. What +a moment! ... what a homage! What a proof of love manifested to her from +him who so much loved her! + +“David’s painting, and many other pictures taken during the coronation, +at the very spot and time, have well represented the empress at the +feet of Napoleon, who crowns her; then the pope, the priests, and +even persons who were four hundred miles away--as, for instance, the +emperor’s mother, who was then in Rome, but whom David nevertheless +brings into his picture. But nothing, however, can give us a true +description, or even an approximate idea, of this alike touching and +lofty scene, where a great man by his own efforts ascends a throne, for +on this occasion he was full of gratitude and emotion. + +“When the moment had come for Josephine to take her part in the great +drama, the empress rose from the throne and approached the altar, where +the emperor was waiting for her; she was followed by the ladies of the +palace and by her whole court, while the Princesses Caroline, Julie (the +wife of Joseph), the Princess Elise, and Louis Bonaparte, carried the +trail of her robe. One of the most admirable features in the beauty of +the Empress Josephine was not her fine, graceful figure, but the bearing +of her head--the gracious and noble manner in which she moved and +walked. I have had the honor to be introduced to many ‘real princesses,’ +as they are termed, in the Faubourg St. Germain, and I can in all +sincerity say that I have never seen one who appeared to me so imposing +as the Empress Josephine. In her, grace and majesty were blended. When +she put on the grand imperial robes there was no woman whose appearance +could be more royal in demeanor, and, in reality, none who understood +the art of occupying a throne as well as she, though she never had been +instructed in it. + +“I read all that I have now said in the eyes of Napoleon. He watched +with delight the empress as she moved toward him; and as she knelt +before him, ... as the tears she could not restrain streamed down her +folded hands, which were lifted up to him more than to God, at that +moment, when Napoleon, or, much more, when Bonaparte was for her the +real and visible Providence, there passed over these two beings one of +those fugitive minutes, unique in its kind, and never to be recalled +in a whole life, and which fills to overflowing the void of many long +years. The emperor performed with an unexcelled grace the most minute +details of every part of the subsequent ceremony, especially when the +moment came to crown the empress. + +“This ceremony was to be performed by the emperor himself, who, after +he had received the small closed crown surmounted by a cross, placed it +first on his own head, and then afterward on the head of the empress. He +performed these two movements with a most exquisite slowness, which was +indeed admirable. But at the moment when he was to crown her who was for +him, according to a prophecy, ‘the star of happiness,’ he made himself, +if I dare use the expression, coquettish. He arranged this little crown +which was to stand over her coronet of diamonds, and placed it on her +head, then lifted it up to replace it in another way, as if to promise +her that this crown would be light and pleasant to her.” [Footnote: +Abrantes, “Memoires.”] + +After this twofold crowning performed by Napoleon himself, the pope, +surrounded by cardinals and prelates, approached the throne, and +arriving upon the platform pronounced in a loud voice, spreading his +hands over their imperial majesties, the ancient Latin formula of +enthronization: “In hoc solio confirme vos Deus, et in regno aeterno +secum regnare faciat Christus.” (God establish you on this throne, and +Christ make you reign with Him in His everlasting kingdom.) He then +kissed the emperor on the cheeks, and turning himself to the audience, +cried with a loud voice: “Vivat imperator in aeternum!” + +The immense cathedral resounded with one glad shout of thousands of +voices: “Long live the emperor! long live the empress!” Napoleon, calm +and reserved, answered this acclamation with a friendly motion of the +head. Josephine stood near him, pale, deeply moved, her eyes, full of +tears, fixed on the emperor, as if she would pray to him, and not to +God, for the prosperity and blessing of the future. + +Meanwhile the pope had descended from his throne, and while he +approached the altar, the bands played “Long live the emperor,” which +the Abbe Kose had composed for this solemnity. Then the pope, standing +before the altar, intoned the Te Deum, which was at once executed by +four choirs and two orchestras, and which completed the ecclesiastical +part of the ceremony. + +This was followed by a secular one. The emperor took, on the Bible +which Cardinal Fesch presented to him, the oath prescribed in the +constitution, and whereby he pledged himself solemnly to maintain “the +most wise results of the revolution, to defend the integrity of the +territory, and to rule only in the interest of the happiness and glory +of the French people.” After he had taken this oath, a herald approached +the edge of the platform, and, according to ancient custom, cried out in +a loud voice: “The most mighty and glorious Emperor Napoleon, Emperor of +the French, is crowned and enthroned! Long live the emperor!” + +A tremendous, prolonged shout of joy followed this proclamation: “Long +live the emperor! Long live the empress!” and then an artillery +salute thundered forth from behind the cathedral, and a similar salute +responded from the Tuileries, and from the Invalides, and proclaimed to +all Paris that France had again found a ruler, that a new dynasty had +been lifted up above the French people. + +At this moment from the Place de Carrousel ascended an enormous air +balloon surmounted by an ornamental, gigantic crown, and which, on the +wings of the wind, was to announce to France the same tidings proclaimed +to Paris by bell and cannon: “The republic of France is converted into +an empire! The free republicans are now the subjects of the Emperor +Napoleon I.!” + +The gigantic balloon arose amid the joyous shouts of the crowd, and soon +disappeared from the gaze of the spectators. It flew, as a trophy of +victory of Napoleon I., all over France. Thousands saw it and understood +its silent and yet eloquent meaning, but no one could tell where it +had fallen, finally, after many weeks, the emperor, who had often asked +after the balloon’s fate, received the wished-for answer. The balloon +had fallen in Rome, upon Nero’s grave! + +Napoleon remained silent a moment at this news: a shadow passed over his +countenance; then his brow brightened again, and he exclaimed: “Well, I +would sooner see it there, than in the dust of the streets!” + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. DAYS OF HAPPINESS. + + +The prophecy of the old woman in Martinique had now been fulfilled: +Josephine was more than a queen, she was an empress! She stood on life’s +summit, and a world lay at her feet. Before the husband who stood at her +side, the princes and the people of Europe bowed in the dust, and paid +him homage--the hero who by new victories had won ever-increasing fame +and fresh laurels, who had defeated Austria, Prussia, and Russia, and +who had engraven on the rolls of French glory the mighty victories of +Austerlitz, Jena, and Eylau! + +Josephine stood on the pinnacle of life; she saw the princes of foreign +states come to France as conquered, as captives, and as allies, to bring +to her husband and to herself the homage of subjects; she saw devoted +courtiers and flatterers; pomp and splendor surrounded her on every +side. + +Amid this glory she remained simple and modest--she never gave up her +cheerful gentleness and mildness; she never forgot the days which had +been; she never allowed herself to be exalted by the brilliancy of the +moment to an ambitious pride or to a lofty self-conceit. The friends of +the widow Josephine de Beauharnais always found in the empress Josephine +a thankful, obliging friend, ever ready to appeal to her husband, and +intercede with him in their behalf. To the royalists, when weary of +their long exile, though poor and helpless still loyal to the royal +family--when they returned to France with bleeding feet and wounded +hearts, to implore from the Emperor of the French the privilege of +dying in their native country--to them all Josephine was a counsellor, +a helper, a compassionate protectress. With deep interest she inquired +from them how it fared with the Count de Lille, whom her heart yet +named as the King of France, though her lips dared not utter it. All the +assistance she gave to the royalists, and the protection she afforded +them, oftentimes despite Napoleon’s anger, all the loyalty, the +generosity, and self-denial she manifested, were the quiet sacrifice +which she offered to God for her own happiness, and with which she +sought to propitiate the revengeful spirit of the old monarchy, +loitering perchance in the Tuileries, where she now, in the place of the +wife of the Count de Lille, was enthroned as sovereign. + +Josephine’s heart was unwearied and inexhaustible in well-doing and in +liberality; if Napoleon was truly the emperor and the father of the army +and of the soldiers, Josephine was equally the empress and the mother of +the poor and unfortunate. + +But she was also, in the true sense of the word, the empress of the +happy. No one understood so well as she did how to be the leader at +festivals, to preside at a joyous company, to give new attractions by +her gracious womanly sweetness and amiableness, or to receive homage +with such beaming eyes, and to make others happy while she herself +seemed to be made happy by them. + +Amid this life full of splendor and grandeur there were sad hours, +when the sun was shadowed by clouds, and the eyes of the Empress of the +French filled with such bitter tears as only the wife and the widow of +General Beauharnais could shed. + +Three things especially contributed to draw these tears from the eyes of +the Empress Josephine: her jealousy, her extravagance, and, lastly, her +childlessness. Josephine was jealous, for she not only loved Napoleon, +she worshipped him as her providence, her future, her happiness. Her +heart was yet so full of passion, and so young, that it hoped for much +happiness, and could not submit to that resignation which is +satisfied to give more love than it receives, and instead of the +warm, intoxicating cup of love, to receive the cool, sober beverage of +friendship. Josephine wanted not merely to be the friend, but to remain +Napoleon’s beloved one; and she looked upon all these beautiful women +who adorned the imperial court of the Tuileries as enemies who came to +dispute with her the love of her husband. + +And, alas! she had too often to acknowledge herself defeated in this +struggle, to see her rivals triumph, and for weeks to retreat into +the background before the victorious one who may have succeeded in +enchaining the inconstant heart of Napoleon, and to make the proud +Caesar bow to her love. But afterward, when love’s short dream had +vanished, Napoleon, penitent, would come back with renewed love to +his Josephine, whom he still called “the star of his happiness;” and +oftentimes, touched by her tears, he sacrificed to her anxiety and +jealousy a love-caprice, and became more affectionate, more agreeable +even, than when he had forsaken her; for then, to prove to her +how unreserved was his confidence, he often told her of his new +love-adventures, and was even indiscreet enough at times to betray all +his gallantries to her. + +The second object of the constant solicitude and trials of the empress +was her extravagance. She did not understand how to economize; her +indolent creole nature found it impossible to calculate, to bring +numbers into columns, or to question tedious figures, to see if debt and +purse agreed--if her generous heart must be prevented from giving to +the poor--from rendering assistance to the helpless, or from spending +handfuls for the suffering; to see if her taste for the arts was no +longer to be gratified with pictures, paintings, statues, cameos, +and other objects of vertu, which filled her with so much joy and +admiration; if her elegant manners and fondness for finery and dress +were to be denied all that was costly, all that was fashionable, and +which seemed to have been expressly invented for the adorning of an +empress. And when, in some of those grave, melancholy hours of internal +anxiety, the cruel phantoms of the future reckonings arose before her +and warned her to stop purchasing, Josephine comforted herself with the +idea that it was Napoleon himself who had requested her to be to all the +ladies of his court a pattern of elegance, and to be distinguished above +all by the most brilliant, the choicest, the costliest toilet. + +The emperor would often come into the cabinet of the empress, and to the +great astonishment of her ladies-in-waiting would enter into the most +minute details of her dress, and designate the robes and ornaments which +he desired her to wear on some special festivity. It even happened in +Aix-la-Chapelle that Napoleon, who had come into the toilet-room of the +empress and found that she had put on a robe which did not please him, +poured ink on the costly dress of silver brocade, so as to compel her +to put on another. [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 98; and +Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 103.] + +And then how was it possible to resist the temptation of purchasing +all those beautiful things which were constantly brought to her for +inspection? Josephine loved what was beautiful, tasteful, and artistic; +all works of art which she admired must be purchased, whatever price was +asked; and when the merchants came to offer to the empress their superb +and splendid articles of luxury, how could she have the cruel courage +to repel them? How often did she purchase objects of extraordinary value +for which she had no need, simply to please herself and the merchant! +Every thing that was beautiful and tasteful pleased her, and she must +possess it. No one had a more remarkably fine taste than Josephine, but +the artists, the manufacturers, the merchants, also had fine taste, +and they came to the empress with the best they had; it was therefore +natural that she should purchase from them But unfortunately the happy +moment of the purchase was followed by the unhappy one of the payment, +and the outlay was constantly beyond the income of the empress, whose +treasury, besides, was so often emptied in charities, pensions, and +presents. Then when the merchants urged payment, and the purse was +empty, Josephine had recourse to the emperor, and had to entreat him to +meet her expenses, and then came violent scenes, reproaches, and +bitter words. The emperor was angry, Josephine wept, and payment and +reconciliation followed these scenes. Josephine promised to the emperor +and to herself to be more economical in the future, and no longer to +purchase what she could not pay for, but ever came the temptation, with +all its inviting treasures, and being no saintly Anthony, she would fall +a prey to the temptation. + +The third and thickest cloud which often darkened the serene sky of +her happiness after her marriage was, as already said, Josephine’s +childlessness. This was the bitter drop which was mixed in the golden +cup of her joy--this was the sting which, however deeply hid under the +roses, still reached her heart and wounded it painfully. She had no +children who could call Napoleon father, no offspring to prolong the +future of the new dynasty. And therefore the firmer the emperor’s +power became, the higher he stood above all other princes, the more +distressing and the more anxious were the emotions which filled the +heart of Josephine, the louder was the warning voice which ceased not to +whisper to her heart, and which she forgot only now and then under the +glow of Napoleon’s assurances of love, or amid the noise of festivities. +This voice whispered: “You must give place to another. Napoleon will +reject you, to marry a wife of princely birth, who will give an heir to +his empire!” + +How Josephine strove to silence these agonizing whisperings of her +heart! With what restlessness of sorrow she rushed into the gayeties and +amusements of a court life! How she sought, in charitable occupations, +in the joys of society, in every thing which was congruous to the life +of a woman, of an empress, to obtain the forgetfulness of her torments! +With what envious attention she listened to the whispers of courtiers, +scrutinized their features, read their looks, to find out if they still +believed in the existence of an empress in the wife of Napoleon! With +what jealous solicitude she observed all the families on European +thrones, and considered what princesses among them were marriageable, +and whether Napoleon’s relations with the fathers of such princesses +were more intimate than those with the other princes! + +And then she ever sought to deafen this vigilant, warning voice, by +comforting herself with the thought that the emperor had adopted his +brother’s son, the son of Hortense, and that he had made him his heir, +and consequently the throne and the dynasty were secure in a successor. + +But alas! Fate would not leave this last comfort to the unfortunate +empress. In May of the year 1807, Prince Napoleon, the crown prince +of Holland, Napoleon’s adopted son and successor, died of a child’s +disease, which in a few days tore him away from the arms of his +despairing mother. + +Josephine’s anguish was boundless, and in the first hours of this +misfortune, which with such annihilating force fell upon her, the +empress, as if in a state of hallucination, gazed into the future, +and, with prophetic voice, exclaimed: “Now I am lost! Now is divorce +certain!” + +Yes, she was lost! She felt it, she knew it! Nothing the emperor did +to pacify her anguish--the numerous expressions of his love, of his +sympathy, of his winning affection--nothing could any longer deceive +Josephine. The voices which had so long whispered in her breast now +cried aloud: “You must give place to another! Napoleon will reject you, +so as to have a son!” + +But the emperor seemed still to try to dispel these fears, and, to give +to his Josephine a new proof of his love and faithfulness, he chose +Eugene de Beauharnais, the son of Josephine, for his adopted heir, and +named him Vice-King of Italy, and gave him in marriage the daughter of +the King of Bavaria; he thus afforded to Europe the proof that he still +considered Josephine as his wife, and that he desired to be shown to +her all the respect due to her dignity, for he travelled to Munich in +company with her in order to be present at the nuptials. + +This journey to attend her son’s marriage was the last pleasure of +Josephine--her last days of honors and happiness. Once more she saw +herself surrounded by all the splendor and the pomp of her rank; once +more she was publicly honored and admired as the wife of the first and +greatest ruler of the world, the wife of the Emperor Napoleon. + +Perhaps Josephine, in these hours of happiness, when as empress, wife, +and mother, she enjoyed the purest and most sacred pleasure, forgot the +sad forebodings and fears of her soul. Perhaps she now believed that, +since Napoleon had adopted her Eugene as his son, and had given to this +son a wife of royal extraction, Fate would be propitious to her; that +the emperor would be satisfied with the son of his choice, and that the +future scions of the royal princess would be the heirs of his throne. + +But one word of Napoleon frightened her out of this ephemeral security +into which happiness had lulled her. + +Josephine wept as she bade farewell to her son; she was comfortless when +with his young wife Eugene left for Italy. She complained to Napoleon, +in justification of her tears, that she should seldom see her son, that +now he was lost to his mother’s heart. + +The emperor, who at first had endeavored to comfort her felt at last +wounded by her sorrow. + +“You weep, Josephine,” said he, hastily, “but you have no reasonable +motives to do so; you weep simply because you are separated from your +son. If already the absence of your children causes you so much sorrow, +think then what I must endure! The tenderness which you feel for your +children makes me cruelly experience how unhappy it is for me to have +none.” [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. +i., p. 202.] + +Josephine trembled, and her tears ceased flowing in the presence of the +emperor, but only to fall more abundantly as soon as he had left her. +Now she wept no longer at her separation from her son; her tears were +still more bitter and painful--she grieved over the coming future; she +wept because those voices which happiness for a moment had deafened, now +spoke more loudly--more fearfully and menacingly shouted: “Napoleon will +reject you! He will choose for himself a wife of royal birth, who will +give an heir to his throne and his empire.” + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. DIVORCE. + + +It was at last decided! The storm which had so long and so fearfully +rolled over Josephine’s head was to burst, and with one single flash +destroy her earthly happiness, her love, her future! + +The peace of Vienna had been ratified on the 13th of October, 1809. +Napoleon passed the three long months of peace negotiations in Vienna +and in Schonbrunn, while Josephine, solitary and full of sad misgivings, +lived quietly in the retreat of Malmaison. + +Now that peace was signed, Napoleon returned to France with fresh +laurels and new crowns of victory. But not, as usual after so long +an absence, did he greet Josephine with the tenderness and joy of a +home-returning husband. He approached her with clouded brow; with a +proud, cold demeanor; with the mien of a ruling master, before whom all +must bow, even his wife, even his own heart. + +At Fontainebleau, whither the emperor in a few, short, commanding +words--in a letter of three lines--had invited the empress, did the +first interview of Josephine and Napoleon take place. She hastened to +meet her husband with a cheerful face and beaming eyes. He, however, +received her coldly, and endeavored to hide his feelings of uneasiness +and shame under a repulsive, domineering manner. + +He returned to his home victorious; the whole world lay conquered at +his feet; he was triumphant. He had so deeply humiliated the pride of +Austria that she not only accepted his harsh terms of peace, but, as +once men had appeased the Minotaur by the sacrifice of the most amiable +and most beautiful maiden, so Austria had asked in a low voice whether +the daughter of the emperor, Maria Louisa might not give to the +alliance of Austria and France the consecration of love. Napoleon +eagerly entered into the scheme; and while Josephine, as his married +wife before God and man, stood yet at his side, he already had begun +negotiations, the object of which was to make the daughter of the +Austrian emperor his wife, and before Napoleon returned to France those +negotiations had been brought to a satisfactory result. + +The ambitious Maria Louisa was to be the wife of the Emperor of the +French. Nothing more was wanted but that Napoleon should reject his +legitimate wife, whom the pope had anointed! He had but to disenthrone +her who for fifteen years, with true and tender love, had shared his +existence. He had only to be divorced publicly and solemnly, so as +immediately to possess a bride, the daughter of an emperor! + +Napoleon came to Fontainebleau to accomplish this cruel task, to break +at once his marriage with Josephine and her heart. He knew what terrible +sufferings he was preparing for her; he himself quailed under the +anguish she was to endure; his heart was full of sorrow and woe, and +yet his resolution was irrevocable. Policy had controlled his heart, +ambition had conquered his love, and the man was determined to sacrifice +his wife to the emperor. + +Josephine felt this at the first word he addressed her, at the first +look he gave her, after so long a separation, and her heart shrank +within itself in bitter anguish, while a stream of tears started from +her eyes. + +But Napoleon asked not for the cause of these tears; he had not the +courage to wage an open war with this brave, loving heart, and to subdue +her love and despair with the two-edged sword of his state policy and +craftiness. He did not wish to utter the word; he wanted to make her +feel what an abyss was now open between them; all confidential and +social intercourse was to be avoided, so that the empress might become +conscious that love and fellowship of hearts had ceased also. + +On the evening after the first interview the empress found that the door +of communication between her apartments and those of the emperor had +been closed. Napoleon did not, as had been his wont, bid her good-night +with a cordial and friendly kiss, but, in the presence of her ladies, he +dismissed her with a cold salutation. The next day the emperor expressly +avoided her society; and when at rare moments he was with her, he was +so taciturn, so morose and cold, that the empress had not the courage to +ask for an explanation, or to reproach him, but, trembling and afraid, +she bowed under the iron pressure of his severe, angry looks. + +To prevent their being with each other alone, and to avoid this horrible +solitude, dreaded alike by Napoleon and Josephine, the emperor sent the +next day for all the princes and princesses of his family to come to +Fontainebleau. His sisters, no longer kept in control by the domineering +will of the emperor, made Josephine feel their malice and enmity; they +found pleasure in letting the empress see their own ascendency, their +secure position, and in treating her with coldness and disrespect. The +emperor, instead of guarding Josephine against these humiliations, had +the cruel courage to increase them; for, without reserve or modesty, +and in the very presence of Josephine, he offered the most familiar and +positive attentions to two ladies of his court--ladies whom he honored +with special favor. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat et de +l’Empire,” vol. xi., p. 323.] + +It was death-like agony which Josephine suffered in those days of +Fontainebleau; it was a cruel martyrdom, which she, however, endured +with all the gentleness of her nature, with the devotedness and +uncomplaining anguish of true and genuine love. + +Napoleon could not endure this. The sight of this yet beloved pale face, +with its sweet, angelic smile, lacerated his heart and tortured him with +reproaches. He wanted to have festivities and amusements, so as not to +witness this quiet, devoted anguish, so as not to read every day in the +sorrowful, red eyes of Josephine, the story of nights passed in tears. + +The court returned to Paris, there to celebrate the new victorious peace +with brilliant feasts. Napoleon, so as to be delivered from the tearful +companionship of Josephine, made the journey on horseback, and never +once rode near her carriage. + +In Paris had begun at once a series of festivities, at which German +princes, the Kings of Saxony, of Bavaria, and of Wurtemberg, were +present, to congratulate Napoleon on his victories in Germany. The +Empress Josephine, by virtue of her rank, had to appear at these +receptions; she had, although in the deepest despondency, to wear a +smile on her lip, to appear as empress at the side of the man who met +her with coldness and estrangement, and whom she yet loved with the true +love of a wife! She had to see the courtiers, with the keen instinct of +their race, desert her, leaving around her person an insulting void and +vacancy. Her heart was tortured with anguish and woe, and yet she could +not uproot her love from it; she did not have the courage to speak the +decisive word, and to desire the divorce which she knew hung over her, +and which at any moment might agonize her heart! + +Josephine did not possess the cowardice to commit suicide; she was ready +to receive the fatal blow, but she could not plunge the dagger into her +own heart. + +Napoleon, unable to endure these tortures, longed to bring them to an +end. He secretly made all the necessary arrangements, and communicated +to the first chancellor, Cambaceres, his irrevocable resolution to be +divorced from the empress. He, however, notified him that he wanted +this act of separation to be accomplished in the most respectful +and honorable form for Josephine, and he therefore, with Cambaceres, +prepared and decided upon all the details of this public divorce. + +It only remained now to find some one who would announce to Josephine +her fate, who would communicate to her the emperor’s determination. +Napoleon had not the courage to do it himself, and he wanted to confide +this duty to the Vice-King Eugene, whom for this purpose he had invited +to Paris. + +But Eugene declined to become a messenger of evil tidings to his +mother; and when Napoleon turned to Hortense, she refused to give to +her mother’s heart the mortal stroke. The emperor, deeply touched by the +sorrow manifested by the children of Josephine, was not able to repress +his tears. He wept with them over their blasted happiness--their +betrayed love. But his tears could not make him swerve from his +resolution. + +“The nation has done so much for me,” said he, “that I owe it the +sacrifice of my dearest inclinations. The peace of France demands that I +choose a new companion. Since, for many months, the empress has lived +in the torments of uncertainty, and every thing is now ready for a new +marriage, we must therefore come to a final explanation.” [Footnote: +Lavalette, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 44.] + +But as none could be found to carry this fatal news to Josephine, +Napoleon had to take upon himself the unwelcome task. + +Wearied with the tears of the slighted empress, with the reproaches of +his own conscience and with his own sufferings, Napoleon suddenly broke +the sad, gloomy silence which had been so long maintained between him +and his wife; in answer to her tears and reproaches, he told her that it +was full time now to arrive at a final conclusion; that he had resolved +to form new ties; that the interest of the state demanded from them both +an enormous sacrifice; that he reckoned on her courage and devotedness +to consent to a divorce, to which he himself acceded only with the +greatest reluctance. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat,” vol. +xi., p. 340.] + +But Josephine did not hear the last words. At the word divorce she +swooned with a death-like shriek; and Napoleon, alarmed at the sight of +her insensibility, called out to the officers in waiting to help him to +carry the empress into her rooms upon her bed. + +Such hours of despair, of bitter pain, of writhing, agonized love did +Josephine now endure! How courageous, yet how difficult, the struggle +against the wretchedness of a rejected love! How angrily and scornfully +she would rise up against her cruel fate! How lovingly, humbly, gently +she would acquiesce in it, as to a long-expected, inevitable fatality! + +These were long days of pain and distress; but Josephine was not alone +in her sufferings, for the emperor’s heart was also touched with her +quiet endurance, and her deep agony at this separation. + +At last the empress came out victorious from these conflicts of heart +and soul, and she repressed her tears with the firm will of a noble, +loving woman! She bade her son Eugene announce to the emperor that she +assented to the divorce on two conditions: first, that her own offspring +should not be exiled or rejected, but that they should still remain +Napoleon’s adopted children, and maintain their rank and position at his +court; secondly, that she should be allowed to remain in France, and, +if possible, in the vicinity of Paris, so that, as she said with a sweet +smile, she might be near the emperor, and still hope in the pleasure of +seeing him. + +Napoleon’s countenance manifested violent agitation when Eugene +communicated to him his mother’s conditions; for a long time he paced +the room to and fro, his hands behind his back, and unable to gather +strength enough to return an answer. Then, with a trembling voice, +he said that he not only granted all these conditions, but that they +corresponded entirely with the wishes of his heart, and that he would +add to them a third condition, namely, that Josephine should still be +honored and treated by him and by the world as empress, and that she +should still be surrounded with all the honors belonging to that rank. + +There was yet wanting, for the full offering of the sacrifice, the +public and solemn act of divorcement; but before that could take place +it was necessary to make the requisite preparations, to arrange the +future household of the divorced empress, and to prepare every thing for +Josephine’s reception in Malmaison, whither she desired to retire +from the world. The mournful solemnity was put off until the 15th of +December, and until then Josephine, according to the rules of etiquette, +was to appear before the world as the ruling empress, the wife of +Napoleon. Twice it was necessary to perform the painful duty of +appearing publicly in all the pomp of her imperial dignity, and to wear +the heavy burden of that crown which already had fallen from her head. +On the morning of the 3d of December she had to be present at the +chanting of the Te Deum in Notre Dame, in thanksgiving for the peace +of Vienna, and to appear at the ball which the city of Paris that same +evening gave to the emperor and empress. + +This ball was the last festivity which Josephine attended as empress, +but even then she received not all the honors which were due to her +as such. Napoleon himself had given orders that the ladies of Paris, +gathered in the Hotel de Ville, with the wife of the governor of the +capital, and the Duchess d’Abrantes at their head, should not, as usual, +meet the empress at the foot of the stairs, but that they should quietly +await her approach in the throne-room, while the marshal of ceremonies +would alone accompany her up the stairs. + +The Duchess d’Abrantes, deeply affected by this order of the emperor, +which at once revealed the sad secret of the approaching future, had +reluctantly to submit to this arrangement, which so cruelly broke the +established etiquette. She has herself, in her memoirs, given full +particulars of this evening, and her words are so touching and so full +of sentiment that we cannot refuse to make them known here: + +“We, therefore,” says she, [Footnote: Abrantes, “Memoires.” vol. xii., +p. 289.] “ascended the throne-room, and were no sooner seated, than the +drums began to beat, and the empress entered. I shall never forget that +figure, in the costume which so marvellously suited her... never will +this gentle face, now wrapped in mourning crape, fade away from my +memory. It was evident that she was not prepared for the solitude which +she had found on the grand staircase; and yet Junot, in spite of the +risk of being blamed by the emperor, went to receive her, and he had +even managed that the empress should meet on the stairs a few ladies +who, it is true, did not very well know how they came and what they had +to do there. The empress, however, was not deceived; as she entered the +grand hall and approached the throne on which, in the presence of the +public of the capital, she was to sit probably for the last time....her +feet trembled and her eyes filled with tears. ....I tried to catch her +eyes; I would willingly have sunk at her feet and told her how much I +suffered....She understood me, and looked at me with the most agonizing +gaze which perhaps was ever in her eyes since that now blighted crown +had been placed on her head. That look spoke of agony--it revealed +depths of sorrow!... What must she have suffered on this awful +day!....She felt wretched, dying, and yet she smiled! Oh, what a torture +was that crown!... Junot stood by her. + +“‘You were not afraid of Jupiter’s wrath,’ said I to him afterward. + +“‘No,’ said he, with a gloomy look, ‘no, I fear him not, when he is +wrong....’ + +“The drums beat a second time; they announced the emperor’s approach.... +A few minutes after he came in, walking rapidly, and accompanied by the +Queen of Naples and the King of Westphalia. The heat was extraordinary, +though it was cold out of doors. The Queen of Naples, whose gracious, +charming smile seemed to demand from the Parisians the salutation, +‘Welcome to Paris,’ spoke to every one, and with the expression of +uncommon goodness. Napoleon, also, who wished to appear friendly, walked +up and down the room, talking and questioning, followed by Berthier, who +fairly skipped at his side, fulfilling more the duties of a chamberlain +than those of a connetable. A trifling circumstance in reference to +Berthier struck me. The emperor, who for some time had been seated on +his arm-chair near the empress, descended the steps of the throne to +go once more around the hall; at the moment he rose I saw him bend down +toward the empress, probably to tell her that she was to accompany +him. He rose up first; Berthier, who had stood behind him, rushed on to +follow his master; the empress was already standing up, when his feet +caught in the train of her mantle, and he nearly fell down, causing the +empress almost to fall. However, he disentangled himself, and, without +one word of excuse to the empress, he followed the emperor. Certainly +Berthier had not the intention to be wanting in respect to the empress; +but he knew the secret--he knew the whole drama soon to be performed.... +and assuredly he would not have so acted one year ago as he did +to-day..... The empress had remained standing with a marvellous dignity; +she smiled as if the accident was the result of mere awkward-ness.... +but her eyes were full of tears, and her lips trembled....” + +At last the 15th of December had come; the day on which Josephine was +to endure the most cruel agony of her life, the day on which she was +solemnly to descend from the throne and bid farewell to her whole +brilliant past, and commence a despised, lonely, gloomy future. + +In the large cabinet of ceremonies were gathered on this day, at noon, +the emperor, the Empress Josephine, the emperor’s mother, the King and +Queen of Holland, the King and Queen of Westphalia, the King and Queen +of Naples, the Vice-king Eugene, the Princess Pauline Borghese, the +high-chancellor Cambaceres, and the secretary of civil affairs, St. Jean +d’Angely. Josephine was pale and trembling; her children were agitated, +and hiding their tears under an appearance of quietude, so as to instil +courage into their mother. + +Napoleon, standing upright, his hand in that of the empress, read with +tremulous voice: + +“My cousin, prince state-chancellor, I have dispatched you an order to +summon you hither into my cabinet for the purpose of communicating to +you the resolution which I and the empress, my much-beloved wife, have +taken. I am rejoiced that the kings, queens, and princesses, my brothers +and sisters, my brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, my daughter-in-law +and my son-in-law, who also is my adopted son, as well as my mother, are +here present to hear what I have to say. + +“The policy of my empire, the interest and wants of my people, direct +all my actions, and now demand that I should leave children heirs of the +love I have for my people, and heirs of this throne to which Providence +has exalted me. However, for many years past, I have lost the hope of +having children through the marriage of my beloved wife, the Empress +Josephine; and this obliges me to sacrifice the sweetest inclinations of +my heart, so as to consult only the welfare of the state, and for that +cause to desire the dissolution of my marriage. + +“Already advanced to my fortieth year, I still may hope to live long +enough to bring up in my sentiments and thoughts the children whom it +may please Providence to give me. God knows how much this resolution has +cost my heart; but there is no sacrifice too great for my courage if it +can be shown to me that such a sacrifice is necessary to the welfare of +France. + +“It is necessary for me to add that, far from having any cause of +complaint, I have, contrariwise, but to praise the devotedness and +affection of my much-beloved wife; she has embellished fifteen years +of my life; the remembrance of these years will therefore ever remain +engraven on my heart. She has been crowned at my hands; it is my will +that she retain the rank and title of empress, and especially that she +never doubt my sentiments, and that she ever hold me as her best and +dearest friend.” + +When he came to the words “she has embellished fifteen years of my +life,” tears started to Napoleon’s eyes, and, with a voice trembling +through emotion, he read the concluding words. + +It was now Josephine’s turn. She began to read the paper which had been +prepared for her: + +“With the permission of our mighty and dear husband, I must declare +that, whereas I can no longer cherish the hope of having children to +meet the wants of his policy and the wants of France, I am ready to give +the highest proof of affection and devotedness which was ever given upon +earth....” + +Josephine could proceed no further; sobs choked her voice. She tried to +continue, but her trembling lips could no more utter a word. She handed +to Count St. Jean d’Angely the paper, who, with tremulous voice, read as +follows: + +“I have obtained every thing from his goodness; his hand has crowned me, +and on the exaltation of this throne I have received only proofs of the +sympathy and love of the French people. + +“I believe it is but manifesting my gratitude for these sentiments when +I consent to the dissolution of a marriage which is an obstacle to the +welfare of France, since it deprives her of the happiness of being +one day ruled by the posterity of a great man, whom Providence has so +manifestly favored, as through him to bring to an end the horrors of +a terrible revolution, and to re-establish the altar, the throne, and +social order. The dissolution of my marriage will not, however, alter +the sentiments of my heart; the emperor will always find in me his most +devoted friend. I know how much this action, made incumbent upon him by +policy and by the great interests in view, has troubled his heart; but +we, the one and the other, are proud of the sacrifice which we offer to +the welfare of our country.” + +When he had finished, Napoleon, visibly affected, embraced Josephine, +took her hand, and led her back to her apartments, where he soon left +her insensible in the arms of her children. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire +du Consulat,” etc., vol. xi., p. 349.] + +Napoleon himself, sad and silent, returned to his cabinet, where, in a +state of complete exhaustion, he fell into an easy-chair. + +On the evening of the same day he again visited Josephine, to pass a few +hours with her in quiet, undisturbed communion; to speak in tenderness +and love of the future, to weep with her, and, full of deepest emotion +and sincerity, to assure her of his undying gratitude for the past, and +of his abiding friendship for the future. + +Josephine passed the night in tears, struggling with her heart, +sometimes breaking into bitter complaints and reproaches, which she +immediately repressed with that gentleness and mildness so much her own, +and with that love which never for a moment departed from her breast. + +There remained yet to perform the last, the most painful scene of this +great, tearful drama. Josephine had to leave the Tuileries; she had +forever to retire from the place which she so long had occupied at her +husband’s side; she had to descend into the open grave of her mournful +abandonment; as a widow, to part with the corpse of her love and of the +past, and to put on mourning apparel for a husband who was not yet dead, +but who only rejected her to give his hand and his heart to another +woman. + +The next day at two o’clock, the moment had come for Josephine to leave +the Tuileries, to make room for the yet unknown wife of the future. +Napoleon wanted to leave Paris at the same moment, and pass a few days +of quiet and solitude in Trianon. + +The carriages of the emperor and empress were both ready; the last +farewell of husband and wife, now to part forever, had yet to be said. +M. de Meneval, who was the sole witness of those sad moments, gives of +them a most affecting description, which bears upon its face the merit +of truth and impartiality. + +“When it was announced to the emperor that the carriage was ready, he +stood up, took his hat, and said: ‘Meneval, come with me.’ + +“I followed him through the narrow winding stairs which led from his +room into that of the empress. She was alone, and seemed absorbed in +the saddest thoughts, At the noise we made in entering she rose up and +eagerly threw herself, sobbing, upon the neck of the emperor, who +drew her to his breast and embraced her several times; but Josephine, +overcome by excitement, had fainted. I hastened to ring for assistance. +The emperor, to avoid the renewal of a painful scene, which it was not +in his power to prevent, placed the empress in my arms as soon as he +perceived her senses return, and ordered me not to leave her, and then +he hurried away through the halls of the first story, at whose gate +his carriage was waiting. Josephine became immediately conscious of the +emperor’s absence; her tears and sobs redoubled. Her women, who had +now entered, laid her on a sofa, and busied themselves with tender +solicitude to bring her relief. In her bewilderment she had seized my +hands, and urgently entreated me to tell the emperor not to forget her, +and to assure him of her devotedness, which would outlast every trial. +I had to promise her that at my arrival in Trianon I would wait upon the +emperor and see that he would write to her. It caused her pain to see +me leave, as if my departure tore away the last bond which united her to +the emperor. I left her, deeply affected by so true a sorrow and by so +sincere a devotion. During the whole journey I was deeply moved, and +could not but bewail the merciless political considerations which tore +violently apart the bonds of so faithful an affection for the sake +of contracting a new union, which, after all, contained but uncertain +chances. + +“In Trianon I told the emperor all that had happened since his +departure, and I conveyed to him the message intrusted to me by the +empress. The emperor was still suffering from the emotions caused by +this farewell scene. He spoke warmly of Josephine’s qualities, of the +depth and sincerity of the sentiments she cherished for him; he looked +upon her as a devoted friend, and, in fact, he has ever maintained for +her a heart-felt affection. The very same evening he sent her a letter +to console her in her solitude. When he learned that she was sad and +wept much, he wrote to her again, complained tenderly of her want of +courage, and told her how deeply this troubled him.” [Footnote: Meneval, +“Napoleon et Marie Louise.--Souvenirs Historiques,” vol. i., pp. +230-232.] + +It is true Josephine’s sorrow was bitter, and the first night of +solitude in Malmaison was especially distressing and horrible. But even +in these hours of painful struggle the empress maintained her gentleness +and mildness of character. Mademoiselle d’Avrillon, one of the ladies in +waiting, has given her testimony to that effect: + +“I was with the empress during the greater part of the night,” writes +she; “sleep was impossible, and time passed away in conversation. +The empress was moved to the very depth of her heart; it is true, she +complained of her fate, but in expressions so gentle, in so resigned a +manner, that tears would come to her eyes. There was no bitterness +in her words, not even during this first night when the blow which +destroyed her, had fallen upon her; she spoke of the emperor with the +same love, with the same respect, as she had always done. Her grief +was most acute: she suffered as a wife, as a mother, and with all the +wounded sensitiveness of a woman, but she endured her affliction with +courage, and remained unchanged in gentleness, love, and goodness.” + [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 166.] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. THE DIVORCED. + + +Josephine had accepted her fate, and, descending from the imperial +throne whose ornament she had long been, retired into the solitude and +quietness of private life. + +But the love and admiration of the French nation followed the empress to +Malmaison, where she had retreated from the world, and where the regard +and friendship, if not the love of Napoleon himself, endeavored to +alleviate the sufferings of her solitude. During the first days after +her divorce, the road from Paris to Malmaison presented as animated a +scene of equipages as in days gone by, when the emperor resided there +with his wife. All those whose position justified it, hastened +to Malmaison to pay their respects to Josephine, and through the +expressions of their sympathy to soften the asperities of her sorrow. +Doubtless many came also through curiosity, to observe how the empress, +once so much honored, endured the humiliation of her present situation. +Others, believing they would exhibit their devotedness to the emperor if +they should follow their master’s example, abandoned the empress, as he +had done, and took no further notice of her. + +But the emperor soon undeceived the latter, manifesting his +dissatisfaction by his cold demeanor and repelling indifference toward +them, whilst he loudly praised all those who had exercised their +gratitude by visiting Malmaison, and in expressing their devotedness to +the empress. + +He himself went beyond his whole court in showing attention and respect +to Josephine. The very next day after their separation, the emperor went +to Malmaison to visit her, and to take with her a long walk through the +park. During the following days he came again, and once invited her and +the ladies of her new court to a dinner in Trianon. + +Josephine might have imagined that nothing had been altered in her +situation, and that she was still Napoleon’s wife. But there were +wanting in their intercourse those little, inexpressible shades of +confidence which her exquisite tact and her instinctive feelings felt +yet more deeply than the more important and visible changes. + +When Napoleon came or went, he no longer embraced her, but merely +pressed her hand in a friendly manner, and often called her “madame” + and “you;” he was more formal, more polite to her than he had ever been +before. + +And then his daily visits ceased; in their place came his letters, it is +true, but they were only the letters of a friend, who tried to comfort +her in her misfortune, but took no sympathetic interest in her distress. + +Soon these letters became more rare, and when they did come they were +shorter. The emperor had to busy himself with other matters than with +the solitary, rejected woman in Malmaison; he had now to occupy his +thoughts with his young and beautiful bride--with Maria Louisa, the +daughter of the Emperor of Austria, who was soon to enter Paris as the +wife of Napoleon, the Emperor of France. + +Bitter and painful indeed were those first days of resignation for +Josephine; harsh and unsparing were the conflicts she had to fight with +her own heart, before its wounds could be closed, and its pains and its +humiliations cease to torment her! + +But Josephine had a brave heart, a strong will, and a resolute +determination to control herself. She conquered herself into rest and +resignation; she did not wish that the emperor, the happy bridegroom, +should ever hear of her red, weeping eyes, of her lamentations and +sighs; she did not wish that, in the golden cup which the husband of +the emperor’s young daughter was drinking in the full joyousness of a +conqueror, her tears should commingle therein as drops of gall. + +She controlled herself so far as to be able with smiling calmness +to have related to her how Paris was celebrating the new marriage +festivities, how the new Empress of the French was everywhere received +with enthusiasm. She was even able to inquire, with an expression of +friendly sympathy, after Maria Louisa, the young wife of sixteen, +who had taken the place of the woman of forty-eight, and from whom +Josephine, in the sincerity of her love, required but one thing, namely, +to make Napoleon happy. + +When she was told that Napoleon loved Maria Louisa with all the passion +of a fiery lover, Josephine conquered herself so as to smile and thank +God that she had accepted her sacrifice and thus secured Napoleon’s +happiness. + +But the emperor, however much he might be enamored of his young wife, +never forgot the bride of the past, the beloved one of his youth, of +whom he had been not only captivated, but whom he had loved from the +very depths of his soul. He surrounded her, though from a distance, with +attentions and tokens of affection; he would often write to her; and at +times, when his heart was burdened and full of cares, he would come to +Malmaison, and visit this woman who understood how to read in his face +the thoughts of his heart, this woman whose soft, gracious, and amiable +disposition--even as a tranquillizing and invigorating breeze after +a sultry day--could quiet his excited soul; to this woman he came for +refreshment, for a little repose, and sweet communion. + +It is true those visits of the emperor to his divorced wife were made +secretly and privately, for his second wife was jealous of the affection +which Napoleon still retained for Josephine; she listened with gloomy +attention to the descriptions which were made to her of the amiableness, +of the unwithered beauty of Josephine; and one day, after hearing that +the emperor had visited her in Malmaison, Maria Louisa broke out into +tears, and complained bitterly of this mortification caused by her +husband. + +Napoleon had to spare this jealous disposition of his young wife, for +Maria Louisa was now in that situation which France and its emperor had +expected and hoped from this marriage; she was approaching the time when +the object for which Napoleon had married her was to be accomplished, +when she was to give to France and the Bonaparte dynasty a legitimate +heir. It was necessary, therefore, to be cautious with the young +empress, and, on account of her interesting situation, it was expedient +to avoid the gloomy sulkiness of jealousy. + +By the emperor’s orders, and under pain of the punishment of his wrath, +no one dared speak to Maria Louisa of the divorced empress, and Napoleon +avoided designedly to give her an occasion of complaint. He went no +longer to Malmaison; he even ceased corresponding with his former wife. + +Only once during this period he had not been able to resist the longing +of visiting Josephine, who, as he had heard, was sick. The emperor, +accompanied only by one horseman, rode from Trianon to Malmaison. At the +back gate of the garden he dismounted from his horse, and, without being +announced, walked through the park to the castle. No one had seen him, +and he was about passing from the front-room into the cabinet of +the empress by a side-door, when the folding-doors leading from this +front-room into the cabinet opened, and Spontini walked out. + +Napoleon, agitated and vexed at having been surprised, advanced with +imperious mien toward the renowned maestro, who was quietly approaching +him. + +“What are you doing here, sir?” cried Napoleon, with choleric +impatience. + +Spontini, however, returned the emperor’s haughty look, and, measuring +him with a deep, flaming glance, asked, With a lofty assurance: “Sire, +what are you doing here?” + +The emperor answered not--a terrible glance fell upon the bold +maestro, without, however, annihilating him: then Napoleon entered into +Josephine’s cabinet, and Spontini walked away slowly and with uplifted +head. + +Spontini, the famous composer of the “Vestals,” whose score he had +dedicated to the Empress Josephine, remained after her divorce a true +and devoted admirer of the empress; and in Malmaison, as well as in the +castle of Navarra, he showed himself as faithful, as ready to serve, as +submissive, as he had once been in the Tuileries, or at St. Cloud, in +the days of Josephine’s glory. He often passed whole weeks in Navarra, +and even undertook to teach the ladies and gentlemen of the court the +choruses of the “Vestals,” which the empress so much liked. + +Josephine had, therefore, for the renowned maestro a heart-felt +friendship, and she took pleasure in boasting of the gratitude and +loyalty of Spontini, in contrast with the sad experiences she had made +of man’s ingratitude. [Footnote: Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” + par Mlle. Ducrest,” vol. i., p. 287.] + +The emperor, as already said, avoided to trouble his young wife by +exciting her jealousy; and though he did not visit Malmaison, though +for a time he did not write to Josephine, yet he was acquainted with the +most minute details of her life, and with all the little events of her +home; and he took care that around her every thing was done according +to the strictest rules of etiquette, and that she was surrounded by the +same splendor and the same ceremonies as when she was empress. + +At last the moment had come which was to give to Josephine her most +sacred and glorious reward. The cannon of the Invalides, with their one +hundred and one thunders, announced that Maria Louisa had given birth +to a son, and Prince Eugene was the first who brought this news to his +mother in Navarra. + +Josephine’s countenance beamed with satisfaction and joy when she +learned from the lips of her son this news of the birth of the King of +Rome; she called her whole court together to communicate herself +this news to the ladies and gentlemen, and to have them listen to the +descriptions which Eugene, with all heartiness, was making of the +scenes which had taken place in the imperial family circle during the +mysterious hours of suspense and expectation. + +But when Eugene repeated the words of Napoleon’s message which he sent +through him to Josephine, her countenance was illumined with joy and +satisfaction, and tears started from her eyes--tears of purest joy, of +most sacred love! + +Napoleon had said: “Eugene, go to your mother; tell her that I am +convinced no one will be more pleased with my happiness than she. I +would have written to her, but I should have had to give up the pleasure +of gazing at my son. I part from him only to attend to inexorable +duties. But this evening I will accomplish the most agreeable of all +duties--I will write to Josephine.” [Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. +236.] + +The emperor kept his word. The same evening there came to Malmaison an +imperial page, with an autograph letter from Napoleon to Josephine. +The empress rewarded this messenger of glad tidings with a costly +diamond-pin, and then she called her ladies together, to show them the +letter which had brought so much happiness to her heart, and which also +had obscured her eyes with tears. + +It was an autograph letter of Napoleon; it contained six or eight lines, +written with a rapid hand; the pen, too hastily filled, had dropped +large blots of ink on the paper. In these lines Napoleon announced to +Josephine the birth of the King of Rome, and concluded with these words: +“This child, in concert with our Eugene, will secure the happiness of +France, and mine also.” + +These last words were to Josephine full of delight. “Is it, then, +possible,” exclaimed she, joyously, “to be more amiable and more tender, +thus to sweeten what this moment might have of bitterness if I did not +love the emperor so much? To place my son alongside of his is an act +worthy of the man who, when he will, can be the most enchanting of men.” + [Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. 238.] + +And this child, for which so much suffering had been endured, for which +she had offered her own life in sacrifice, was by Josephine loved even +as if it were her own. She was always asking news from the little King +of Rome, and no deeper joy could be brought to her heart than to speak +to her of the amiableness, the beauty, the liveliness of this little +prince, who appeared to her as the visible reward of the sacrifice which +she had made to God and to the emperor. + +One intense, craving wish did Josephine cherish during all these +years--she longed to see Napoleon’s son; she longed to press to her +heart this child who was making her former husband so happy, and on +which rested all the hopes of France. + +Finally Napoleon granted her desire. Privately, and in all secrecy, for +Maria Louisa’s jealousy was ever on the watch, and she would never have +consented to allow her son to go to her rival; without pomp, without +suite, the emperor took a drive with the little three-year-old King of +Rome to the pleasure-castle of Bagatelle, whither he had invited the +Empress Josephine through his trusty chamberlain Constant. + +Josephine herself has described her interview with the little King of +Rome in a very touching and affecting letter which she addressed the +next day to the emperor, and which contains full and interesting details +of the brief interview she had with the son of Maria Louisa. We cannot, +therefore, abridge this letter, nor deny ourselves the pleasure of +transcribing it: + +“Sire, although deeply moved by our interview of yesterday, and +preoccupied with the beautiful and lovely child you brought me, +penetrated with gratitude for the step taken by you for my sake, and +whose unpleasant consequences, I may well imagine, could fall only upon +you; I felt the most pressing desire to converse with you, to assure +you of my joy, which was too great to be at once exhibited in a suitable +manner. You, who to meet my wishes exposed yourself to the danger of +having your peace disturbed, will fully understand why I thus long to +acknowledge to you all the happiness your inestimable favor has produced +within me. + +“Truly, it was not out of mere curiosity that I wished to see the +King of Rome; his face was not unknown to me, for I had seen striking +portraits of him. Sire, I wanted to examine the expression of his +features, listen to the tone of his voice, which is so much like yours; +I wanted to see you--how you would caress the child, and then I longed +also to return to him the caresses which my son Eugene received from +you. If I recall to your remembrance how deaf my son was once to you, +it is that you should not be surprised at the partiality which I cherish +for the son of another, for it is your son, and you will find neither +insincerity nor exaggeration in feelings which you fully appreciate, +since you yourself have nurtured similar ones. + +“The moment I saw you enter with the little Napoleon in your hand +was undoubtedly one of the happiest of my eventful life. That moment +surpassed all the preceding ones, for never have I received from you a +stronger proof of your affection to me. It was no passionate love +which induced you to fulfil my wishes, but it was a sincere esteem +and affection, and these feelings are unchangeable, and this thought +completes my happiness. + +“It was not without trembling that I thought of the dissolution of our +marriage-ties, for it was reasonable for me to apprehend that a young, +beautiful wife, endowed also with the most enviable gifts, would soon +make you forget one who lacks all these advantages, and who then would +be far away from you. When I called to mind all the amiable qualities +possessed by Maria Louisa, I could not but tremble at the thought that +I should soon be indifferent to you, but surely I was then ignoring the +loftiness and generosity of your soul, which still preserves the memory +of its extraordinary devotedness, and of its tenderness toward me, a +devotedness and tenderness whose superabundance was proportioned to +those eminent qualities which have surprised Europe, and which cause you +to be admired by all those who come near you, and which even constrain +your enemies to render you justice! + +“Yes, I acknowledge to you, sire, you have once more found the means of +astonishing me, and to fill me with admiration, accustomed as I am to +admire you; and your whole conduct, so well suited to my position, the +solicitude with which you surround me, and finally the step you took +yesterday in my behalf, prove to me that you have far surpassed all the +favorable and charming impressions which I have ever cherished for you. + +“With what fondness I pressed the young prince to my heart! How his +face, radiant with health, filled me with delight, and how happy I was +to see him so amused and so contented as he watched us both! In fact, I +entirely forgot I was a stranger to this child; I forgot that I was not +his mother while partaking his sweet caresses. I then envied no man’s +happiness; mine seemed far above all bliss granted to poor mortals +here below. And when the time came to part from him, when I had to tear +myself from this little being whom I had barely learned to know, I felt +in me a deep anguish, as deep as if all the sorrows of humanity had +pierced me through. + +“Have you, as I did, closely noticed the little commanding tone of your +son when he made known to me his wish that he wanted me to be in the +Tuileries with him? And then his little pouting mien when I answered +that this could not be? + +“‘Why,’ exclaimed he, in his own way, ‘why, since papa and I wish it?’ + +“Yes, this already reveals that he will understand how to command, and +I heartily rejoice to discern traits of character which, in a private +individual, might be pregnant with evil consequences, but which are +becoming to a prince who is destined to rule in a time that is so near a +long and terrible revolution. For after the downfall of all order, such +as we have outlived, a sovereign cannot hope to maintain peace in his +kingdom merely through mildness and goodness. The nation over which he +rules, and which yet stands on the hot soil of a volcano, must have the +assurance that crime no sooner lifts its head than swift punishment will +reach it. As you yourself have told me a thousand times: ‘When once fear +has been instilled, one must not by arbitrariness, but through strict +impartiality, strive to be loved.’ + +“You have often used your privilege of granting pardon, but you have +more frequently proved that you would not tolerate a violation of the +laws enacted by you. Thus you have subdued and mastered the Jacobins, +quieted the royalists, and satisfied the party of moderation. Your son +will now have your example before him, and, happier than you, will be +able to go further in manifesting clemency toward the guilty. + +“I had with him a conversation which establishes the deep sensitiveness +of his heart. + +“He was delighted with my charivari, and then he said to me: + +“‘Ah, how beautiful that is! but if it were given to a poor man he would +be rich, would he not, madame?’ + +“‘Certainly he would,’ I replied. “‘Well, then,’ said he, ‘I have seen +in the woods a poor man; allow me to send for him. I have no money +myself, and he needs a good coat.’ + +“‘The emperor,’ I replied, ‘will find a pleasure in gratifying your +wishes. Why does not your imperial highness ask him for his purse?’ + +“‘I have asked him already, madame. He gave it to me when we left Paris, +and we have given all away. But as you look so good, I thought you would +do what was so natural.’ + +“I promised to be useful to that poor man, and I will certainly keep my +word. I have given orders to my courier to find the unfortunate person, +and bring him to-morrow to Malmaison, where we will see what can be +done for him. For it will indeed be sweet for me to perform a good work +counselled by a child three years old. Tell him, I pray you, sire, that +this poor man is no longer poor! + +“I have thought you would be pleased to gather these details from a +conversation which passed between us in a low voice, while you were busy +at the other end of the drawing-room, examining an atlas. You will also +perceive by this, how fortunate it is for the King of Rome to have +a governess, who knows how to inspire him with such feelings of +compassion, the more touching that they are seldom found in princes. For +princes in general have been accustomed to a constant flattery, which +induces them to imagine that every thing in the world is for them, and +that they can entirely dismiss the duty of thinking about others. In +fact the eminent qualities of Madame de Montesquiou make her worthy of +the important and responsible charge you have committed to her care, and +the sentiments of the prince justify the choice you have made. Will +he not be good and benevolent, who is brought up by goodness and +benevolence themselves? + +“I am, however, afraid that his imperial highness, notwithstanding the +orders made to him by you, has spoken of this interview, which was to +remain secret. I recommended him not to open his mouth, and I assured +him that if any one knew that he had come to Bagatelle it would be +impossible for him to come here again. + +“‘Oh, then, madame,’ replied he, ‘be not alarmed, I will say nothing, +for I love you; promise me, however, if I am obedient, to come soon and +visit me.’ + +“Ah! I assured him, that I desired this more than he did himself, and I +have never spoken more truly. + +“Meanwhile, I am conscious that those interviews, which fill me with +extreme joy, cannot often be repeated, and I must not abuse your +goodness toward me by claiming your presence too often. The sacrifice +which I make to your mental quietude is another proof of my intense +desire to render you happy. This thought will comfort me while waiting +to be able to embrace my adopted son. Do you not find this exchange of +children very sweet? As regards myself, sire, what distresses me is, +that I can only give to your son this name, without being able to be +useful to him! And, again, how different is my position from that which +you held toward Eugene! The longer, the kinder you are to him, the less +can I show you my gratitude! However, I rely upon the vice-king that he +will be a comfort to you, amid the sorrows which your family causes you. +If, unfortunately, what you surmise about the King of Naples were to +happen, then Eugene would become still more useful to you than ever, and +I dare trust he would prove worthy of you by his conduct in war as well +as by his sincere devotedness to your service. + +“You have now received quite a long letter from me! The sentiment of +delight in talking about our two sons has carried me away, and this +sentiment will make me excusable for having so long intruded upon you. +As sorrow needs concentration, so joy needs expansion. This, sire, +explains this letter, long as a volume, and which I cannot close +with-out once more expressing my deepest gratitude. + +“JOSEPHINE.” [Footnote: Ducrest, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 294.] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. DEATH. + + +Happy the man to whom it is granted to close a beautiful and worthy life +with a beautiful and worthy death! Happy Josephine, for whom it was not +reserved like the rest of the Bonapartes to wander about Europe seeking +for a refuge where they might hide themselves from the persecutions and +hatred of the princes and people! To her alone, of all the Napoleonic +race, was reserved the enviable fate to die under the ruins of the +imperial throne, whose fragments fell so heavily upon her heart as to +break it. + +For France the days of fear had come, for Napoleon the days of +vengeance. The nations of Europe had at last risen with the strength of +the lion that breaks his chains and is determined to obtain liberty by +devouring those who deprived him of it, and so those irritated nations +had with the power of their wrath forced their princes, who had been so +obediently submissive to Napoleon, to declare war and to fight against +him for life or death. + +The conflicts, battles, and endless victories of the constantly defeated +Austrians, Prussians, Russians, and English, belong to history--this +everlasting tribunal where the deeds of men are judged, and where they +are written on its pages to be for ages to come as lessons and examples +of warning and encouragement. + +Josephine, the lonely and rejected one, had nothing to do with those +fearful events which shook France; she played no active part in the +great drama which was performed before the walls of Paris, and which +closed with the fall of the hero whom she had so warmly and so truly +loved. + +Josephine, during those days of horror and of decisive conflicts, was in +her pleasure-castle of Navarra. Her daughter, Queen Hortense, with her +two sons, Napoleon Louis and Louis Napoleon, was with her. There she +learned the treachery of the marshals, the capitulation of Marmont, the +surrender of Paris, and the entrance of the foreign foe into the capital +of France. + +But where was Napoleon? Where was the emperor? Did Josephine know +anything of him? Why did he not come to the rescue of his capital, and +drive the foe away? + +Such were the questions which afflicted Josephine’s heart, and to +which the news, finally re-echoed through Paris, gave her the fearful +response. + +Napoleon had come too late, and when he had arrived in Fontainebleau +with the remnants of the army defeated by Blucher, he learned there that +Marmont had capitulated, and that the allies had already entered Paris, +and all was lost. + +The deputies of the senate and Napoleon’s faithless marshals came from +Paris to Fontainebleau to require from him that he should resign his +crown, and that he should save France by the sacrifice of himself +and his imperial dignity. These men, lately the most humble, devoted +courtiers and flatterers of Napoleon, who owed to him everything--name, +position, fortune, and rank--had now the courage to approach him with +lofty demeanor and to request of him to depart into exile. + +Napoleon, overcome by all this misfortune and treachery which fell upon +him, did what they required of him. He abdicated in favor of his son, +and left Paris, left France, to go to the small island of Elba, there to +dream of the days which had been and of the days which were coming, when +he would regain his glory and his emperor’s crown. + +Amid the agonies, cares, and humiliations of his present situation, +Napoleon thought of the woman whom he had once named the “angel of his +happiness,” and who he well knew would readily and gladly be the angel +of his misfortune. Before leaving Fontainebleau to retire to the island +of Elba, Napoleon wrote to Josephine a farewell letter, telling her +of the fate reserved for him, and assuring her of his never-ending +friendship and affection. He sent this letter to the castle of Navarra +by M. de Maussion, and the messenger of evil tidings arrived there in +the middle of the night. + +Josephine had given orders that she should be awakened as soon as any +one brought news for her. She immediately arose from her bed, threw a +mantle over her shoulders, and bade M. de Maussion come in. + +“Does the emperor live?” cried she, as he approached. “Only answer me +this: does the emperor live?” + +Then, when she had received this assurance, after reading Napoleon’s +letter, and learning all the sad, humiliating news, pale, and trembling +in all her limbs, she hastened to her daughter Hortense. + +“Ah, Hortense,” exclaimed she, overcome and falling into an arm-chair +near her daughter’s bed, “ah, Hortense, the unfortunate Napoleon! They +are sending him to the island of Elba! Now he is unhappy, abandoned, +and I am not near him! Were I not his wife I would go to him and +exile myself with him! Oh, why cannot I be with him?” [Footnote: Mlle. +Cochelet, “Memoires,” vol. ii.] + +But she dared not! Napoleon, knowing her heart and her love, had +commissioned the Duke de Bassano expressly to tell the Empress Josephine +to make no attempt to follow him, and “to respect the rights of +another.” + +This other, however, had not been pleased to claim the right which +Josephine was to respect. Napoleon left Fontainebleau on the 21st of +April, 1814, to go to the island of Elba. It was his wish to meet there +his wife and his son. But Maria Louisa did not come; she did not obey +her husband’s call; she descended from the imperial throne, and was +satisfied to be again an archduchess of Austria, and to see the little +King of Rome dispossessed of country, rank, father, and even name. The +poor little Napoleon was now called Frank--he was but the son of the +Archduchess Maria Louisa; he dared not ask for his father, and yet +memory ever and ever re-echoed through his heart the sounds of other +days; this memory caused the death of the Duke de Reichstadt, the son of +Napoleon. + +Napoleon had gone to Elba, and there he waited in vain for Maria Louisa, +to fill whose place Josephine would have gladly poured her heart’s +blood. + +But she dared not! she submitted faithfully and devotedly to Napoleon’s +will. To her he was, though banished, humiliated, and conquered, still +the emperor and the sovereign; and her tearful eyes gazed toward the +solitary island which to her would have been a paradise could she but +have lived there by the side of her Napoleon! + +But she had to remain in France; she had sacred duties to perform; she +had to save out of the wreck of the empire at least something for her +children! For herself she wanted nothing, she desired nothing; but the +future of her children had to be secured. + +Therefore, Josephine gathered all her courage; she pressed her hands on +the mortal wounds of her heart, and kept it still alive, for it must not +yet bleed to death; her children yet claimed her care. + +Josephine, therefore, left the castle of Navarra for that of Malmaison, +thus fulfilling the wishes of the Emperor Alexander, who desired to know +Josephine’s wishes in reference to herself and to her children, and who +sincerely wished to become acquainted with her, that he might offer her +his homage, and transfer to her the friendship he once cherished for +Napoleon. + +Josephine received in Malmaison the first visit of Alexander, and +from this time he came every day, to the great grief of the returned +Bourbons, who felt bitterly hurt at the homage thus publicly offered +before all the world by the conqueror of Napoleon to the divorced +Empress Josephine, who, in the eyes of the proud Bourbons, was but the +widow of General de Beauharnais. + +Notwithstanding this, the rest of the princes of the victorious allies +followed the example of Alexander. They all came to Malmaison to visit +the Empress Josephine; so that again, as in the days of her imperial +glory, she received at her residence the conquerors of Europe, and saw +around her emperors and kings. The Emperor Alexander, with his brothers; +the King Frederick William, with his sons; the Duke of Coburg, and +many others of the little German princes, were guests at her table, +and endeavored, through the respect they manifested to her, and the +expressions of their esteem and devotedness, to turn away from her the +sad fate which had come upon all the Bonapartes. + +But her heart was mortally wounded. “I cannot overcome the fearful +sadness which has seized me,” said she to Mlle. Cochelet, the friend +of her daughter Hortense; “I do all I can to hide my cares from my +children, but I suffer only the more.” [Footnote: Mlle. Cochelet. +“Memoires,” vol. ii.] + +“You will see,” said she to the Duchess d’Abrantes, who had visited her +at Malmaison, “you will see that Napoleon’s misfortune will cause my +death. My heart is broken--it will not be healed.” [Footnote: Abrantes, +“Memoires,” vol. xvii.] + +She was right, her heart was broken, it would not be healed! It seemed +at first but merely an indisposition which seized the empress, and which +obliged her to decline the announced visit of the Emperor Alexander, +nothing but a slight inflammation of the neck, accompanied by a little +fever. But the disease increased hour after hour. On the 27th of May, +Josephine was obliged to keep her bed; on the 29th her sufferings in +the neck were so serious that she nearly suffocated, and her fever had +become so intense that she had but few moments of consciousness. In her +fancy she often called aloud for Napoleon, and the last word which her +dying lips uttered was his name. + +Josephine died on the 29th of May, 1814. That love which had illumined +her life occasioned her death, and will sanctify her name for ever as +with a saintly halo. + +She was buried on the 2d of June in the church at Rueil. It was a solemn +funeral procession, to which all the kings and princes assembled in +Paris sent their substitutes in their carriages; but the most beautiful +mourning procession which followed her to the grave were the tears, +the sighs of the poor, the suffering of the unfortunate, for all whom +Josephine had been a benefactress, a good angel, and who lost in her a +comforter, a mother. + +In the church of Rueil, Eugene and Hortense erected a monument to their +mother; and when in 1837 Queen Hortense, the mother of the Emperor +Napoleon III., died at Arenenberg, her corpse was, according to her last +wishes, brought to Rueil and laid at her mother’s side. Her son erected +there a monument to her; and this son, the grandchild of Josephine, is +now the Emperor of the French, Napoleon III. Josephine’s sacrifice has been in vain. Napoleon’s dynasty, for +whose sake she sacrificed happiness, love, and a crown, has not been +perpetuated through the woman to whom Josephine was sacrificed--not +through Maria Louisa, who gave to France and to the emperor a son, but +through the daughter of Josephine, who gave to Napoleon more than a son, +her love, her heart, and her life! + +Providence is just! Upon the throne from which the childless empress was +rejected, sits now the grandchild of Josephine, and his very existence +demonstrates how vain are all man’s calculations and desires, and how +like withered leaves they are carried away and tossed about by the +breath of destiny! + +It was not the emperor’s daughter who perpetuated Napoleon’s dynasty, +but the widow of General Beauharnais, Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie. + +Josephine, therefore, is avenged in history; she was also avenged +in Napoleon’s heart, for he bitterly lamented that he had ever been +separated from her. “I ought not to have allowed myself to be separated +from Josephine,” said he, a short time before his death in St. +Helena, “no, I ought not to have been divorced from her; that was my +misfortune!” + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Empress Josephine, by Louise Muhlbach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + +***** This file should be named 4226-0.txt or 4226-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/2/4226/ + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Empress Josephine + +Author: Louise Muhlbach + +Translator: W. Binet + + +Release Date: July, 2003 [Etext# 4226] +This file was first posted on December 8, 2001 +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + + + + +Text file produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE + </h1> + <h3> + AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE DAYS OF NAPOLEON + </h3> + <h2> + By Louise Muhlbach + </h2> + <h5> + Author Of: Daughter Of An Empress, Marie Antoinette,<br /> Joseph II and + His Court, Frederick The Great and His Family,<br /> Berlin And Sans-Souci, + Etc. + </h5> + <h4> + Translated from the German by Rev. W. Binet, A M. + </h4> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK I. THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. THE YOUNG MAID. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. THE BETROTHAL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. THE YOUNG BONAPARTE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. TRIANON AND MARIE ANTOINETTE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. LIEUTENANT NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. A PAGE FROM HISTORY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. JOSEPHINE’S RETURN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. THE DAYS OF THE REVOLUTION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. THE TENTH OF AUGUST, AND THE LETTER + OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. THE EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. THE ARREST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. IN PRISON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. DELIVERANCE. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> <b>BOOK II. THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE.</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. BONAPARTE IN CORSICA. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE BEFORE TOULON. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. BONAPARTE’S IMPRISONMENT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. THE THIRTEENTH VENDEMIAIRE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. THE WIDOW JOSEPHINE BEAUHARNAIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. THE NEW PARIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. THE FIRST INTERVIEW. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. MARRIAGE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. BONAPARTE’S LOVE-LETTERS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE IN MILAN. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. THE PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. DAYS OF TRIUMPH. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> <b>BOOK III. THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED.</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. PLOMBIERES AND HALMAISON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. THE FIRST FAITHLESSNESS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. THE EIGHTEENTH BRUMAIRE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TUILERIES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. THE INFERNAL MACHINE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. THE CASHMERES AND THE LETTER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. MALMAISON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. FLOWERS AND MUSIC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. PRELUDE TO THE EMPIRE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX. THE POPE IN PARIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI. DAYS OF HAPPINESS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII. DIVORCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII. THE DIVORCED. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV. DEATH. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK I. THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. + </h2> + <p> + “I win the battles, Josephine wins me the hearts.” These words of Napoleon + are the most beautiful epitaph of the Empress Josephine, the much-loved, + the much-regretted, and the much-slandered one. Even while Napoleon won + battles, while with lofty pride he placed his foot on the neck of the + conquered, took away from princes their crowns, and from nations their + liberty—while Europe trembling bowed before him, and despite her + admiration cursed him—while hatred heaved up the hearts of all + nations against him—even then none could refuse admiration to the + tender, lovely woman who, with the gracious smile of goodness, walked at + his side; none could refuse love to the wife of the conqueror, whose + countenance of brass received light and lustre from the beautiful eyes of + Josephine, as Memnon’s statue from the rays of the sun. + </p> + <p> + She was not beautiful according to those high and exalted rules of beauty + which we admire in the statues of the gods of old, but her whole being was + surrounded with such a charm, goodness, and grace, that the rules of + beauty were forgotten. Josephine’s beauty was believed in, and the heart + was ravished by the spell of such a gracious, womanly apparition. Goethe’s + words, which the Princess Eleonore utters in reference to Antonio, were + not applicable to Josephine: + </p> + <p> + “All the gods have with one consent brought gifts to his cradle, but, + alas! the Graces have remained absent, and where the gifts of these lovely + ones fail, though much was given and much received, yet on such a bosom is + no resting-place.” + </p> + <p> + No, the Graces were not absent from the cradle of Josephine; they, more + than all the other gods, had brought their gifts to Josephine. They had + encircled her with the girdle of gracefulness, they had imparted to her + look, to her smile, to her figure, attraction and charm, and given her + that beauty which is greater and more enduring than that of youth, namely + loveliness, that only real beauty. Josephine possessed the beauty of + grace, and this quality remained when youth, happiness, and grandeur, had + deserted her. This beauty of grace struck the Emperor Alexander as he came + to Malmaison to salute the dethroned empress. He had entered Paris in + triumph, and laid his foot on the neck of him whom he once had called his + friend, yet before the divorced wife of the dethroned emperor the czar, + full of admiration and respect, bowed his head and made her homage as to a + queen; for, though she was dethroned, on her head shone the crown in + imperishable beauty and glory, the crown of loveliness, of faithfulness, + and of womanhood. + </p> + <p> + She was not witty in the special sense of a so-called “witty woman.” She + composed no verses, she wrote no philosophical dissertations, she painted + not, she was no politician, she was no practising artist, but she + possessed the deep and fine intuition of all that which is beautiful and + noble: she was the protectress of the arts and sciences. She knew that + disciples were not wanting to the arts, but that often a Maecenas is + needed. She left it to her cousin, the Countess Fanny Beauharnais, to be + called an artist; hers was a loftier destiny, and she fulfilled that + destiny through her whole life—she was a Maecenas, the protectress + of the arts and sciences. + </p> + <p> + As Hamlet says of his father, “He was a man, take him for all in all, I + shall not look upon his like again;” thus Josephine’s fame consists not + that she was a princess, an empress anointed by the hands of the pope + himself, but that she was a noble and true wife, loving yet more than she + was loved, entirely given up in unswerving loyalty to him who rejected + her; languishing for very sorrow on account of his misfortune, and dying + for very grief as vanished away the star of his happiness. Thousands in + her place, rejected, forgotten, cast away, as she was—thousands + would have rejoiced in the righteousness of the fate which struck and + threw in the dust the man who, for earthly grandeur, had abandoned the + beloved one and disowned her love. Josephine wept over him, lamented over + his calamities, and had but a wish to be allowed to share them with him. + Josephine died broken-hearted—the misfortunes of her beloved, who no + more loved her, the misfortunes of Napoleon, broke her heart. + </p> + <p> + She was a woman, “take her for all in all”—a noble, a beautiful + woman, a loving woman, and such as belongs to no peculiar class, to no + peculiar nation, to no peculiar special history; she belongs to the world, + to humanity, to universal history. In the presence of such an apparition + all national hatred is silent, all differences of political opinion are + silent. Like a great, powerful drama drawn from the universal history of + man and represented before our eyes, so her life passes before us; and + surprised, wondering, we gaze on, indifferent whether the heroine of such + a tragedy be Creole, French, or to what nation she may owe her birth. She + belongs to the world, to history, and if we Germans have no love for the + Emperor Napoleon, the tyrant of the world, the Caesar of brass who bowed + the people down into the dust, and trod under foot their rights and + liberties—if we Germans have no love for the conqueror Napoleon, + because he won so many battles from us, yet this does not debar us from + loving Josephine, who during her lifetime won hearts to Napoleon, and + whose beautiful death for love’s sake filled with tears the eyes of those + whose lips knew but words of hatred and cursing against the emperor. + </p> + <p> + To write the life of Josephine does not mean to write the life of a + Frenchwoman, the life of the wife of the man who brought over Germany so + much adversity, shame, and suffering, but it means to write a woman’s life + which, as a fated tragedy or like a mighty picture, rises before our + vision. It is to unfold a portion of the world’s history before our eyes—and + the world’s history is there for our common instruction and progress, for + our enlightenment and encouragement. + </p> + <p> + I am not afraid, therefore, of being accused of lacking patriotism, + because I have undertaken to write the life of a woman who is not a + German, who was the wife of Germany’s greatest enemy and oppressor. It is, + indeed, a portion of the universal drama which is unfolded in the life of + this woman, and amid so much blood, so much dishonor, so many tears, so + much humiliation, so much pride, arrogance, and treachery, of this + renowned period of the world’s history, shines forth the figure of + Josephine as the bright star of womanhood, of love, of faithfulness—stars + need no birthright, no nationality, they belong to all lands and nations. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE YOUNG MAID. + </h2> + <p> + On the 23d of July, 1763, to the Chevalier Tascher de la Pagerie, + ex-lieutenant of the royal troops, a resident of the insignificant spot of + the Trois Islets, on the island of Martinique, was borne by his young, + rich, and beautiful wife, a first child. + </p> + <p> + The loving parents, the relatives and friends had longed for this child, + but now that it was come, they bade it welcome without joy, and even over + the brow of the young father hung the shadow of a cloud as he received the + intelligence of the birth of his child. For it was a girl, and not the + wished-for boy who was to be the inheritor of the valuable + family-plantation, and the inheritor also of the ancient and respectable + name of Tascher de la Pagerie. + </p> + <p> + It was, however, useless to murmur against fate. What was irrevocable had + to be accepted, and welcome made to the daughter, who, instead of the + expected heir, would now lay claim to the rights of primogeniture. As an + inheritance reserved for him who had not come, the daughter received the + name which had been destined to the son. For two hundred years the name of + Joseph had been given to the eldest son of the family of Tascher de la + Pagerie, but now that there was none to whom the Chevalier, Ex-lieutenant + Joseph de la Pagerie could leave his name as a legacy, the family had to + be satisfied to give the name to his daughter, and consequently she + received at baptism the name of Joseph Marie Rosa. + </p> + <p> + There was, however, one being who gladly and willingly forgave the fault + of her birth, and who consecrated to the daughter the same love she would + have offered to the son. This being was the mother of the little Joseph + Marie Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Contrary to all our wishes,” writes she to her husband’s sister, the + beautiful Madame Renaudin, in Paris—“contrary to all our wishes, God + has given me a daughter. My joy is not therefore diminished, for I look + upon my child as a new bond which binds me still closer to your brother, + my dear husband, and to you. Why should I have such a poor and meagre + opinion of the female sex, that a daughter should not be welcomed by me? I + am acquainted with many persons of our sex who concentrate in themselves + as many good qualities as one would only with difficulty find in the other + sex. Maternal love already blinds me and fosters in me the hope that my + daughter may be like them, and if even I cannot enjoy this satisfaction, + yet I am thankful to my child that by means of her existence I am + gathering so much happiness.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, extraordinary joy, since the birth of the child, reigned in the + house of M. Tascher de la Pagerie; joy reigned all over Martinique, for + the long war between France and England was ended, and a few months before + the birth of little Joseph Marie Rosa, the peace which secured to France + the possession of her maritime colonies had been signed. Martinique, so + often attacked, bombarded, besieged by English ships—Martinique was + again the unconditional property of France, and on the birthday of the + little Marie Joseph Rosa the French fleet entered into the harbor of Port + Royal, landed a French garrison for the island, and brought a new governor + in the person of the Marquis de Fenelon, the nephew of the famous Bishop + de Fenelon. + </p> + <p> + Joyously and quietly passed away the first years of the life of the little + Joseph, or little Josephine, as her kind parents called her. Only once, in + the third year of her life, was Josephine’s infancy troubled by a fright. + A terrible hurricane, such as is known to exist only in the Antilles, + broke over Martinique. The historians of that period know not how to + depict the awful and calamitous events of this hurricane, which, at the + same time, seemed to shake the whole earth with its convulsions. In + Naples, in Sicily, in the Molucca Islands, volcanoes broke out in fearful + eruptions; for three days the earth trembled in Constantinople. But it was + over Martinique that the hurricane raged in the most appalling manner. In + less than four hours the howling northwest’ wind, accompanied by forked + lightning, rolling thunder, heavy water-spouts, and tremendous + earth-tremblings, had hurled down into fragments all the houses of the + town, all the sugar-plantations, and all the negro cabins. Here and there + the earth opened, flames darted out and spread round about a horrible + vapor of sulphur, which suffocated human beings. Trees were uprooted, and + the sugar and coffee plantations destroyed. The sea roared and upheaved, + sprang from its bounds, and shivered as mere glass-work barks and even + some of the larger ships lying in the harbor of Port Royal. Five hundred + men perished, and a much larger number were severely wounded. Distress and + poverty were the result of this astounding convulsion of nature. + </p> + <p> + The estate of M. Tascher de la Pagerie was made desolate. His residence, + his sugar-plantations, were but a heap of ruins and rubbish, and as a gift + of Providence he looked upon the one refuge left him in his + sugar-refinery, which was miraculously spared by the hurricane. There M. + Tascher saved himself, with Josephine and her younger sister, and there + his wife bore him a third child. But Heaven even now did not fulfil the + long-cherished wishes of the parents, for it was to a daughter that Madame + de la Pagerie gave birth. The parents were, however, weary with murmuring + against fate, which accomplished not their wish; and so to prove to fate + that this daughter was welcome, they named the child born amid the horrors + of this terrific hurricane, Desiree, the Desired. + </p> + <p> + Peaceful, happy years followed;—peaceful and happy, in the midst of + the family, passed on the years of Josephine’s infancy. She had every + thing which could be procured. Beloved by her parents, by her two sisters, + worshipped by her servants and slaves, she lived amid a beautiful, + splendid, and sublime nature, in the very midst of wealth and affluence. + Her father, casting away all ambition, was satisfied to cultivate his wide + and immense domains, and to remain among his one hundred and fifty slaves + as master and ruler, to whom unconditional and cheerful obedience was + rendered. Her mother sought and wished for no other happiness than the + peaceful quietude of the household joys. Her husband, her children, her + home, constituted the world where she breathed, in which alone centred her + thoughts, her wishes, and her hopes. To mould her daughters into good + housekeepers and wives, and if possible to secure for them in due time, by + means of a brilliant and advantageous marriage, a happy future—this + was the only ambition of this gentle and virtuous woman. + </p> + <p> + Above all things, it was necessary to procure to the daughters an + education suited to the claims of high social position, and which would + fit her daughters to act on the world’s stage the part which their birth, + their wealth, and beauty, reserved for them. The tender mother consented + to part with her darling, with her eldest daughter; and Josephine, not yet + twelve years old, was brought, for completing her education, to the + convent of our Lady de la Providence in Port Royal. There she learned all + which in the Antilles was considered necessary for the education of a lady + of rank; there she obtained that light, superficial, rudimentary + instruction, which was then thought sufficient for a woman; there she was + taught to write her mother tongue with a certain fluency and without too + many blunders; there she was instructed in the use of the needle, to + execute artistic pieces of embroidery; there she learned something in + arithmetic and in music; yea, so as to give to the wealthy daughter of M. + Tascher de la Pagerie a full and complete education, the pious sisters of + the convent consented that twice a week a dancing-master should come to + the convent to give to Josephine lessons in dancing, the favorite + amusement of the Creoles. [Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” par Joseph Aubenas. vol. i., p. 36.] + </p> + <p> + These dancing-lessons completed the education of Josephine, and, barely + fifteen years old, she returned to her parents and sisters as an + accomplished young lady, to perform the honors of the house alongside of + her mother, to learn from her to preside with grace and ease over a large + mansion, and above all things to be a good mistress, a benefactress, and a + protectress to her slaves. Under her mother’s guidance, Josephine visited + the negro cabins to minister unto the sick, to bring comfort and + nourishment to the old and to the weak, to pray with the dying, to take + under her loving guardianship the new-born babes of the negro women, to + instruct in the catechism the grown-up children, to excite them to + industry, to encourage them through kindness and friendliness, to protect + them, and to be a mediator when for some offence they were condemned to + severe punishment. + </p> + <p> + It was a wonderfully peaceful and beautiful life that of the young + Josephine, amid a bountiful nature, in that soft, sunny clime which + clothed her whole being with that tender, pleasing grace, that lovely + quietude, that yielding complacency, and at the same time with that fiery, + passionate nature of the Creoles. Ordinarily dressed only with the + “gaule,” a wide, loose garment of white muslin, falling loosely about the + waist, where no belt gathered its folds, the beautiful head wrapped up in + the many-colored madras, which around the temples was folded up into + graceful knots holding together her chestnut-brown hair—in this + dress Josephine would swing for hours in her hammock made of homespun silk + and ornamented with borders of feathers from the variegated iridescent + birds of Cayenne. + </p> + <p> + Round about her were her young female slaves, watching with their + brilliant dark eyes their young mistress, ever ready to read every wish + upon that dreamy, smiling countenance, and by their swarthy tinge + heightening the soft, tender whiteness of her own complexion. + </p> + <p> + Then, wearied with the stillness and with her dreams, Josephine would + spring up from the hammock, dart into the house with all the lightness of + the gazelle to enliven the family with her own joyousness, her merry + pleasantry, and accompanied by her guitar to sing unto them with her + lovely youthful voice the songs of the Creoles. As the glowing sun was at + its setting, away she hastened with her slaves into the garden, directed + their labors, and with her own hands tended her own cherished flowers, + which commingled together in admirable admixture from all climes under the + genial skies of the Antilles. In the evening, the family was gathered + together in the light of the moon, which imparted to the nights the + brightness of day and streamed upon them her soft blue rays, upon the + fragrant terrace, in front of the house, where the faithful slaves + carefully watched the little group close one to another and guarded their + masters from the approaches of poisonous serpents, that insidious progeny + of the night. + </p> + <p> + On Sundays after Josephine had religiously and faithfully listened to an + early mass, she gladly attended in the evening the “barraboula” of the + negroes, dancing their African dances in the glare of torches and to the + monotonous sound of the tam-tam. + </p> + <p> + On festivals, she assisted her mother to put all things in order, and to + preside at the great banquets given to relatives and friends, who + afterward were visited in their turn, and then the slaves carried their + masters in hammocks, or else, what was far more acceptable, the young + maidens mounted small Spanish horses, full of courage and daring, and + whose firm, quick step made a ride to Porto Rico simply a rushing gallop. + </p> + <p> + Amidst this dreamy, sunny, joyous existence of the young maiden gleamed + one day, as a lightning-flash, a prophetic ray of Josephine’s future + greatness. + </p> + <p> + This happened one afternoon as she was walking alone and thoughtful + through the plantation. A group of negresses, in the centre of which was + an old and unknown woman, attracted her attention. Josephine approached. + It was an old negro woman from a neighboring plantation, and she was + telling the fortune of the young negro women of M. Tascher de la Pagerie. + No sooner did the old woman cast her eyes on Josephine than she seemed to + shrink into one mass, whilst an expression of horror and wonder stole over + her face. She vehemently seized the hand of the young maiden, examined it + carefully, and then lifted up her large, astonished eyes with a searching + expression to the face of Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “You must see something very wonderful in my face and in my hand?” + inquired Josephine, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, something very wonderful,” repeated the negro woman, still intently + staring at her. + </p> + <p> + “Is it a good or a bad fortune which awaits me?” + </p> + <p> + The old prophetess slowly shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Who can tell,” said she, gravely, “what is a good or a bad fortune for + human beings? In your hand I see evil, but in your face happiness—great, + lofty happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried out Josephine, laughing, “you are cautious, and your oracle + is not very clear.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman lifted up her eyes to heaven with a strange expression. + </p> + <p> + “I dare not,” said she, “express myself more clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak on, whatever the result!” exclaimed Josephine, whose curiosity was + excited by the very diffidence of the fortune-teller. “Say what you see in + my future life. I wish it, I order you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you order it, I must obey,” said she, with solemnity. “Listen, + then. I read in your countenance that you are called to high destinies. + You will soon be married. But your marriage will not be a happy one. You + will soon be a young widow, and then—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and then?” asked Josephine, passionately, as the old woman + hesitated and remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and then you will be Queen of France—more than a queen!” + shouted the prophetess, with a loud voice. “You will live glorious, + brilliant days, but at the last misfortune will come and carry you to your + grave in a day of rebellion.” + </p> + <p> + Afraid of the pictures which her prophetic vision had contemplated in the + future, the old hag forced her way through the circle of negro women + around, and rushed away through the field as fast as her feet could bear + her on. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, laughing, turned to her astonished women, who had followed with + their eyes the flight of the prophetess, but who now directed their dark + eyes with an expression of awe and bewilderment to their young mistress, + of whom the fortune-teller had said she would one day be Queen of France. + Josephine endeavored to overthrow the faith of her swarthy servants in the + fortune-teller, and, by pointing to the ridiculous prophecy in reference + to herself, and which predicted an impossible future, she tried to prove + to them what a folly it was to rely on the words of those who made a + profession of foretelling the future. + </p> + <p> + But against her will the prophetic words of the old woman echoed in the + heart of the young maiden. She could not return home to her family and + talk, laugh, and dance, as she had been accustomed to do with her sisters. + Followed by her slaves, she went into her garden and sank in a hammock, + hung amid the gigantic leaves of a palm-tree, and, while the negro girls + danced and sang round her, the young maid was dreaming about the future, + and her beating heart asked if it were not possible that the prophecy of + the negro woman might one day be realized. + </p> + <p> + She, the daughter of M. Tascher de la Pagerie—she a future “Queen of + France! More than a queen!” Oh, it was mere folly to think on such things, + and to busy herself with the ludicrous prophecies of the old woman. + </p> + <p> + And Josephine laughed at her own credulity, and the slaves sang and + danced, and against her will the thoughts of the young maiden returned to + the prophecy again and again. + </p> + <p> + What the old fortune-teller had said, was it so very ridiculous, so + impossible? Could not that prophecy become a reality? Was it, then, the + first time that a daughter of the Island of Martinique had been exalted to + grandeur and lofty honors? + </p> + <p> + Josephine asked these questions to herself, as dreaming and thoughtful she + swung in the hammock and gazed toward the horizon upon the sea, which, in + its blue depths and brilliancy, hung there as if heaven had lowered itself + down to earth. That sea was a pathway to France, and already once before + had its waves wafted a daughter of the Island of Martinique to a throne. + </p> + <p> + Thus ran the thoughts of Josephine. She thought of Franchise d’Aubigne, + and of her wondrous story. A poor wanderer, fleeing from France to search + for happiness beyond the seas in a foreign land, M. d’Aubigne had landed + in Martinique with his young wife. There Franchise was born, there passed + away the first years of her life. Once, when a child of three years old, + she was bitten by a venomous serpent, and her life was saved only through + the devotion of her black nurse, who sucked alike poison and death from + the wound. Another time, as she was on a voyage with her parents, the + vessel was in danger of being captured by a corsair; and a third time a + powerful whirlwind carried into the waves of the sea the little Francoise, + who was walking on the shore, but a large black dog, her companion and + favorite, sprang after her, seized her dress with its teeth, and carried + the child back to the shore, where sobbing for joy her mother received + her. + </p> + <p> + Fate had reserved great things for Francoise, and with all manner of + horrors it submitted the child to probation to make of it a strong and + noble woman. + </p> + <p> + A severer blow came when her father, losing in gambling all the property + which he had gathered in Martinique, died suddenly, leaving his family in + poverty and want. Another blow more severe still came when on her return + to France, whither her mother was going with her, she lost this last prop + of her youth and childhood. Madame d’Aubigne died, and her body was + committed to the waves; and, as a destitute orphan, Francoise d’Aubigne + touched the soil of France. + </p> + <p> + And what became of the poor orphan of the Creole of Martinique? + </p> + <p> + She became the wife of a king, and nearly a queen! For Francoise + d’Aubigne, the widow of Scarron, the governess of the children of Louis + XIV, had caused the mother of these children, the beautiful Madame de + Montespan, to be cast away, and she became the friend, the beloved, the + secret spouse of the king: and the lofty Louis, who could say of himself, + “L’etat c’est moi” he, with all the power of his will, with all his + authority, was the humble vassal of Franchise d’Aubigne, Marquise de + Maintenon! + </p> + <p> + This was the first princess whom Martinique had given to the world! + </p> + <p> + Was it not possible that the prophecies of the old negro woman could be + realized? could not once more a daughter of the Island of Martinique be + exalted into a princess? + </p> + <p> + “You will be Queen of France!” the negress had said. + </p> + <p> + No, it was mere folly to believe in such a ridiculous prophecy. The throne + of France was now occupied. Alongside of her consort, the good, the + well-beloved Louis XVI, the young and beautiful Queen Marie Antoinette, + the daughter of the mighty Empress Maria Theresa, sat on the throne. She + was young, she was beloved throughout France, and she had already, to the + great delight of her husband and of his people, borne an heir to the + throne of France. + </p> + <p> + The throne of the lilies stood then on firm and sure foundations, and the + prophecies of the old negress belonged only to the kingdom of fables. + [Footnote: This prophecy, nearly as related above, was told by the Empress + Josephine herself to her maids of honor in the castle of Navarra.—See + “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine, la Ville, la Cour et les Salons de + Paris sous l’Empire, par Madame Georgette Ducrest.”] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE BETROTHAL. + </h2> + <p> + Six months had barely elapsed since Josephine’s return from the convent + when the family Tascher de la Pagerie received from their relatives in + Paris letters which were to be of the greatest importance for the whole + family. + </p> + <p> + The beautiful Madame de Renaudin, sister of M. Tascher de la Pagerie, had + settled in Paris after having rid herself of an unhappy marriage with a + man, coarse and addicted to gambling, and after having, through a legal + separation, reobtained her freedom. She lived there in the closest, + intimacy with the Marquis de Beauharnais, who, for many years, at an + earlier period, had resided as governor on the Island of Martinique, and + there had bound himself to the whole family of Tascher de la Pagerie by + the ties of a cordial friendship. His wife, during her residence in + Martinique, had been the most tender friend of Madame de Renaudin, and + when the marchioness bore a second son to her husband, Madame de Renaudin + had stood as godmother, and promised to love and protect the child of her + friend as if she were his mother. + </p> + <p> + Chance brought on the opportunity of accomplishing this promise and of + fulfilling the oath made to God before the altar. The Marchioness de + Beauharnais returned to France in the year 1763 with her husband and her + two sons, but died there a short time after; and Madame de Renaudin, true + to her oath, hastened to replace the natural guardian, the mother. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps she had but followed the dictates of her heart, perhaps against + her will a sentiment of joy had passed over her at the death of the poor + marchioness, for, by this death, one at least of the two obstacles + intervening between Madame de Renaudin and the Marquis de Beauharnais had + been removed. Both married, both of the Catholic religion, death alone + could make their hands free, and confer upon them the right of joining + hands together for all their days. + </p> + <p> + They loved one another, they had ceased long ago to make a secret of it; + they avowed it to each other and to their dependants, for their brave, + loyal, and noble hearts would not stoop to falsehood and deception, and + they had the courage to acknowledge what their sentiments were. + </p> + <p> + Death had then made free the hand of the Marquis de Beauharnais, but life + held yet in bondage the hand of the Baroness de Renaudin. + </p> + <p> + As long as her husband lived, she could not, though legally divorced from + him, conscientiously think of a second marriage. + </p> + <p> + But she possessed the courage and the loyalty of true love; she had seen + and experienced enough of the world to despise its judgments, and with + cheerful determination do what in her conscience she held to be good and + right. + </p> + <p> + Before God’s altar she had promised to the deceased Marchioness de + Beauharnais to be a mother to her son; she loved the child and she loved + the father of this child, and, as she was now free, as she had no duties + which might restrain her footsteps, she followed the voice of her heart + and braved public opinion. + </p> + <p> + She had purchased not far from Paris, at Noisy-le-Grand, a country + residence, and there passed the summer with the Marquis de Beauharnais, + with his two sons and their tutor. + </p> + <p> + The marquis owned a superb hotel in Paris, in Thevenot Street, and there, + during winter, he resided with his two sons and the Baroness de Renaudin, + the mother, the guardian of his two orphan sons, the friend, the + confidante, the companion of his quiet life, entirely devoted to study, to + the arts, to the sciences, and to household pleasures. + </p> + <p> + Thus the years passed away; the two sons of the Marquis de Beauharnais had + grown up under the care of their maternal friend: they had been through + their collegiate course, had been one year students at Heidelberg, had + returned, had been through the drill of soldier and officer, a mere form + which custom then imposed on young men of high birth; and the younger son + Alexander, the godchild of the Baroness de Renaudin, had scarcely passed + his sixteenth year when he received his commission as sub-lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + A year afterward his elder brother married one of his cousins, the + Countess Claude Beauharnais, and the sight of this youthful happy love + excited envy in the heart of the young lieutenant of seventeen years, and + awoke in him a longing for a similar blessedness. Freely and without + reserve he communicated his wishes to his father, begged of him to choose + him a wife, and promised to take readily and cheerfully as such her whom + his father or his sponsor, his second mother, would select for him. + </p> + <p> + A few months later reached Martinique the letters which, as already said, + were to be of the utmost importance to the family of M. Tascher de la + Pagerie. + </p> + <p> + The first of these letters was from the Marquis de Beauharnais, and + addressed to the parents of Josephine, but with a considerate and delicate + tact the marquis had not written the letter with his own hand, but had + dictated it to his son Alexander, so as to prove to the family of his + friend De la Pagerie that the son was in perfect unison of sentiment with + the father, and that the latter only expressed what the son desired and + approved. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot express,” wrote the marquis, “how much satisfaction I have in + being at this moment able to give you a proof of the inclination and + friendship which I always have had for you. As you will perceive, this + satisfaction is not merely on the surface. + </p> + <p> + “My two sons,” continues he, “are now enjoying an annual income of forty + thousand livres. It is in your power to give me your daughter to enjoy + this income with my son, the chevalier. The esteem and affection he feels + for Madame de Renaudin makes him passionately desire to be united with her + niece. I can assure you that I am only gratifying his wishes when I pray + you to give me for him your second daughter, whose age corresponds at best + with his. I sincerely wish that your eldest daughter were a few years + younger, for then she would certainly have had the preference, the more so + that she is described to me under the most advantageous colors. But I + confess my son, who is but seventeen and a half years old, thinks that a + young lady of fifteen is too near him in age. This is one of those cases + in which reasonable and reflecting parents will accommodate themselves to + circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Beauharnais adds that his son possesses all the qualities necessary + to make a woman happy. At the same time he declares that, as regards his + future daughter-in-law, he has no claims to a dowry, for his son already + possesses an income of forty thousand livres from his mother’s legacy, and + that after his father’s death he will inherit besides an annual income of + twenty-five thousand livres. He then entreats M. de la Pagerie, as soon as + practicable, to send his daughter to France, and, if possible, to bring + her himself. The marquis then addresses himself directly to the wife of M. + de la Pagerie, and repeats to her in nearly the same words his proposal, + and endeavors also to excuse to her the choice of the second daughter. + </p> + <p> + “The most flattering things have been told me,” writes he, “of your eldest + daughter, but my son finds her, with her fifteen years, too old for him. + My son is worthy of becoming your son-in-law; Nature has gifted him with + good and fine parts, and his income is sufficiently large to share it with + a wife qualified to render him happy. Such a one I trust to find in your + second daughter; may she resemble you, madame, and I can no longer doubt + of my son’s happiness! I feel extremely happy to see my long-cherished + wishes satisfied! I can not express to you how great will be my joy to see + riveted forever, by means of this union of our two families, the + inclination and the friendship which have already so long chained us + together. I trust that Mademoiselle de la Pagerie will not refuse her + consent. Allow me to embrace her and already to greet her as my own + beloved daughter.” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” vol. i., p. 78.] + </p> + <p> + To this letter was addressed a note from Madame de Renaudin to her brother + and to her sister-in-law. She openly acknowledges that she it was who + desired this union, and who had brought the matter to its present stage, + and she endeavors to meet the objection that it would appear strange for a + young lady to undertake a long journey in search of a future husband, + whilst it would be more expedient that the bridegroom should make the + journey to his bride, to receive her at the hands of her parents, and + bring her with him to a new home. But this bride of thirteen years must + first be trained for her future destiny; she is not to be in the house of + her future father-in-law, but in the house of Madame de Renaudin, her + aunt, and she is there to receive the completion of her education and that + higher culture which her parents, even with all the necessary means, could + not give her in Martinique. + </p> + <p> + “We are of opinion,” she writes, “that the young people must see one + another and please each other, before we bring this matter to a close, for + they are both too dear to us to desire to coerce them against their + inclination. Your daughter will find in me a true and kind mother, and I + am sure that she will find the happiness of her future life in the + contemplated union, for the chevalier is well qualified to make a wife + happy. All that I can say of him exhausts by no means the praise he + deserves. He has a pleasant countenance, an excellent figure, wit, genius, + knowledge, and, what is more than this, all the noble qualities of heart + and soul are united in him, and he must consequently be loved by all who + know him.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, before these letters reached Martinique, chance had already + otherwise decided the fate of Mary, the second daughter of M. de la + Pagerie. With one sentence it had destroyed all the family schemes. After + three days of confinement to a bed of sickness, Mary had died of a violent + fever, and when the letter, in which the Marquis de Beauharnais asked for + her hand, reached her father, she had been buried three months. + </p> + <p> + M. Tascher de la Pagerie hastened to announce her death to the Marquis and + to Madame de Renaudin; and to prove to them how much he also had at heart + a union of the two families, he offered to his son, the chevalier, the + hand of his third daughter, the little twelve-year-old Desiree. + Undoubtedly it would have been more gratifying to him if the choice of the + marquis had fallen upon his eldest daughter, and he makes this known very + clearly in his answer to Madame de Renaudin. + </p> + <p> + “My eldest daughter,” writes he, “Josephine, who is lately returned from + the convent, and who has often desired me to take her to France, will, + believe me, be somewhat sensitive at the preference given to her younger + sisters. Josephine has a beautiful head, beautiful eyes and arms, and also + a wonderful talent for music. During her stay in the convent I procured + her a guitar-teacher; she has made the best of the instruction received, + and she has a glorious voice. It is a pity she has not the opportunity of + completing her education in France; and were I to have my wish, I would + bring her to you instead of my other two daughters.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his son, found that the + youngest daughter of M. de la Pagerie was too young for their impatient + desire to bring to a favorable issue these important family concerns, and + that the eldest of the daughters ought to have the preference. The son of + the marquis especially pronounced himself decidedly in favor of Josephine, + and father and son, as well as Madame de Renaudin, turned imploringly to + M. Tascher de la Pagerie, praying that he would bring them his eldest + daughter. + </p> + <p> + Now, for the first time, when the choice of the Beauharnais family had + irrevocably fallen upon Josephine, now for the first time was this + proposed marriage made known to her, and her consent asked. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, whose young heart was like a blank sheet of paper, whereon love + had as yet written no name, Josephine rejoiced at the prospect of + accomplishing the secret wish of her maiden heart, to go to Paris—Paris, + the burning desire of all Creoles—Paris, after all the narratives + and descriptions, which had been made to Josephine, rose before the soul + of the young maiden as a golden morning dream, a charming fairy world; and + full of gratitude she already loved her future husband, to whom she owed + the happiness of becoming acquainted with the city of wonders and + pleasures. + </p> + <p> + She therefore acquiesced without regret at being separated from her + parents and from her sister, from the home of all her sweet reminiscences + of youth, and joyously, in August of the year 1779, she embarked on board + the vessel which was to take her with her father to France. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of October they both, after a stormy passage, touched the + soil of France and announced to their relatives their safe arrival. + Alexandre de Beauharnais, full of impatient longings to see his unknown + young bride, hastened to Brest to bid her and her father welcome, and to + accompany them to Paris. + </p> + <p> + The first meeting of the young couple decided their future. Josephine, + smiling and blushing, avowed to her father that she was willing and ready + to marry M. Alexandre Beanharnais; and, the very first day of his meeting + with Josephine, Alexandre wrote to his father that he was enchanted with + the choice made, and that he felt strongly convinced that, at the side of + so charming, sweet, and lovely a being, he would lead a happy and sunny + life. + </p> + <p> + The love of the children had crowned all the schemes of the parents, and + on the 13th of December, 1779, the marriage of the young couple took + place. On the 13th of December, Mademoiselle Josephine Tascher de la + Pagerie became the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. THE YOUNG BONAPARTE. + </h2> + <p> + In the same year, 1779, in which Josephine de la Pagerie for the first + time left Martinique for Prance, a vessel which had sailed from Corsica + brought to France a boy who, not only as regards Josephine’s life, but + also as regards all Europe, yea, the whole world, was to be of the highest + importance, and who, with the iron step of fatality, was to walk through + Europe to subvert thrones and raise up new ones; to tread nations in the + dust, and to lift up others from the dust; to break tyranny’s chains in + which people languished, so as to impose upon them his own chains. + </p> + <p> + This boy was Napoleon Bonaparte, the son of the advocate Charles de + Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + From Ajaccio, the principal town of Corsica, came the ship which brought + to France the boy, his father, and his two elder brothers. In Ajaccio the + family of the Bonapartes had been settled for more than a century. There + also Napoleon had passed the first years of his life, in the family circle + with his parents, and in joyous amusements with his five brothers and + sisters. + </p> + <p> + His father, Charles de Bonaparte, belonged to one of the noble families of + Corsica, and was one of the most influential men on the island. His + mother, Letitia Ramolina, was well known throughout the island for her + beauty, and the only woman who could have been her rival, for she was her + equal in beauty, youth, and grace, was her dearest friend, the beautiful + Panonia de Comnene, afterward the mother of the Duchess d’Abrantes. + </p> + <p> + The beautiful Letitia Ramolina was married to Charles de Bonaparte the + same year that her friend Panonia de Comnene became the wife of M. de + Permont, a high French official in Ajaccio. Corsica was then the + undisputed property of the kingdom of France, and, however proud the + Corsicans were of their island, yet they were satisfied to be called + subjects of France, and to have their beautiful island considered as a + province of France. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon Bonaparte was the fifth child of his parents, the favorite of his + beautiful mother Letitia, who was the life of the household, the ruler of + the family. She governed the house, she educated the children; she knew, + with the genuine ability of a housekeeper, of a mother, how to spend with + careful frugality the moderate income of her husband; how to economize, + and yet how to give to each what was needed. As to the father, in the + hours of leisure which business, political debates, and amusements allowed + him to give to his home and family, his children were an agreeable + recreation, an interesting pastime; and when the children, carried away by + the sparkling fire of youth, shouted or cried too loud, the father + endeavored to palliate their misdemeanor, and obtain their pardon from + their mother. Then Letitia’s eyes were fastened with a flaming glance upon + her husband, and, imperatively bidding him leave the children, she would + say: “Let them alone. Their education concerns you not. I am the one to + keep the eyes upon them.” + </p> + <p> + She trained them up with the severity of a father and with the tenderness + of a mother. Inexorable against every vice of heart and character, she was + lenient and indulgent toward petty offences which sprang up from the + inconsiderateness and spiritedness of youth. Every tendency to vulgar + sentiments, to mean envy or selfishness, she strove to uproot by galling + indignation; but every thing which was great and lofty, all sentiments of + honor, of courage, of large-heartedness, of generosity, of kindness, she + nursed and cherished in the hearts of her children. It was a glorious + sight to contemplate this young mother when with her beautiful, rosy + countenance glowing with enthusiasm and blessedness, she stood among her + children, and in fiery, expressive manner spoke to the listening group of + the great and brave of old, of the deeds of a Caesar, of a Hannibal; when + she spoke of Brutus, who, though he loved Caesar, yet, greater than + Caesar, and a more exalted Roman in his love for the republic, sacrificed + his love to the fatherland; or when she, with that burning glow which all + Corsicans, the women as well as the men, cherish for their home and for + the historical greatness of their dear island, told them of the bravery + and self-denial even unto death with which the Corsicans for centuries had + fought for the freedom of their island; how, faithful to the ancient + sacred law of blood, they never let the misdeed pass unpunished; they + never feared the foe, however powerful he might be, but revenged on him + the evil which he had committed against sister or brother, father or + mother. + </p> + <p> + And when Letitia thus spoke to her children in the beautiful and + harmonious language of her country, the eyes of the little Napoleon were + all aflame, his childish countenance suddenly assumed a grave expression, + and on the little body of the child was seen a man’s head, glowing with + power, energy, and pride. + </p> + <p> + These narratives of his mother, these enthusiastic stories of heroes of + the past, which the boy, with loud-beating heart, with countenance + blanched by mental excitement, gathered from the beautiful lips of his + mother, were the highest pleasure of the little Napoleon, and often in + future years has the emperor amid his glory thought of those days never to + be forgotten, when the child’s heart and soul hung on his mother’s lips, + and listened to her wondrous stories of heroes. + </p> + <p> + These narratives of Letitia, this enthusiasm which her glowing language + awoke in the heart of the child, this whole education which Letitia gave + to her children, became the corner-stone of their future. As a sower, + Letitia scattered the seed from which hero and warrior were to spring + forth, and the grain which fell into the heart of her little Napoleon + found a good soil, and grew and prospered, and became a laurel-tree, which + adorned the whole family of the Bonapartes with the blooming crown of + immortality. + </p> + <p> + Great men are ever much more the sons of their mother than of the father, + while seldom have great men seen their own greatness survive in their + sons. This is a wonderful secret of Nature, which perhaps cannot be + explained, but which cannot be denied. + </p> + <p> + Goethe was the true son of his talented and noble mother, but he could + leave as a legacy to his son only the fame of a name, and not his genius. + Henry IV., the son of a noble, spiritual and large-hearted Jeanne de + Navarre, could not leave to France, which worshipped and loved her king, + could not leave to his people, a successor who resembled him, and who + would inherit his sharp-sightedness, his prudence, his courage, and his + greatness of soul. His son and successor was Louis XIII., a king whose + misfortune it was ever to be overruled, ever to be humbled, ever to stand + in the shade of two superior natures, which excited his envy, but which he + was never competent to overcome; ever overshadowed by the past glories + which his father’s fame threw upon him, overshadowed by the ruler and + mentor of his choice, his minister, the Cardinal de Richelieu, who + darkened his whole sad existence. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon was the son of his mother, the large-hearted and high-minded + Letitia Ramolina. But how distant was the son of the hero, who, from a + poor second lieutenant, had forced his way to the throne of France! how + distant the poor little Duke de Reichstadt from his great father! Even + over the life of this son of an eminent father weighed a shadow—the + shadow of his father’s greatness. Under this shadow which the column of + Vendome cast from Paris to the imperial city of Vienna, which the steep + rock of St. Helena cast even upon the castle of Schonbrunn, under this + shadow died the Duke de Reichstadt, the unfortunate son of his eminent + father. + </p> + <p> + The little Napoleon was always a shy, reserved, quiet boy. For hours long + he could hide in some obscure corner of the house or of the garden, and + sit there with head bent low and eyes closed, half asleep and half + dreaming; but when he opened his eyes, what a life in those looks! What + animation, what exuberance in his whole being, when awaking from his + childish dreams he mixed again with his brothers, sisters, and friends! + </p> + <p> + Letitia’s words and example had penetrated the soul of the child with the + highest emotions of honor and human dignity, and the little boy of seven + years exhibited oftentimes the sentiments of honor, pride, and obstinacy + of a man. Every bodily correction to which he was submitted made him turn + pale and tremble, not from pain but for shame, filled him with + indignation, and was apt to bring on sickness. In Corsica still prevailed + the custom of severe discipline for children, and in all the classes of + the school the rod was applied as a means of punishment and reformation. + To beat one’s wife was considered in Corsica, as everywhere else, an + unpardonable brutality; but parents as well as teachers whipped children + to mould them into noble, refined, honorable men. + </p> + <p> + The little Napoleon would not adapt himself to the blessings of this + education, and the mere threats of the rod-switching deprived the child of + his senses and threw him into convulsions. But though the little Napoleon + was gloomy, monosyllabic, and quiet, yet was he from early childhood the + favorite of all who knew him, and he already wielded over brothers, + sisters, and companions, a wonderful influence. + </p> + <p> + When a boy of four years old, Letitia sent him to a sort of play-school, + where boys and girls amused themselves together and learned the ABC. The + young Napoleon was soon the soul of the little company. The boys obeyed + him, and submitted to his will; the girls trembled before him, and yet + with a smile they pressed toward him merely to be near him and to have a + place at his side. And the four-year child already practised a tender + chivalry. One of his little school-companions had made an impression on + his heart; he honored her with special favors, sat at her side during the + lessons, and when they left school to return home, the little Napoleon + never missed, with complete gravity of countenance, to offer his arm to + his favorite of five years of age and to accompany her to her home. But + the sight of this gallant, with his diminutive, compact, and broad figure, + over which the large head, with its earnestness of expression, seemed so + incongruous, and which moved on with so much gravity, while the socks fell + from the naked calves over the heels—all this excited the merriment + of the other children; and when, arm-in-arm with his little schoolmate, he + thus moved on, the other urchins in great glee shouted after him: + “Napoleone di mezza calzetta dall’ amore a Giacominetta!” (“Napoleon in + socks is the lover of the little Giacominetta!”) + </p> + <p> + The boy endured these taunts with the stoic composure of a philosopher, + but never after did he offer his arm to the little Giacominetta, and never + afterward did his socks hang down over his heels. + </p> + <p> + When from this “mixed school” he passed into a boys’ school, the little + Napoleon distinguished himself above all the other boys by his ambition, + his deep jealousy, his perseverance at learning and studying, and he soon + became the favorite of the Abbe Recco, [Footnote: Napoleon, in his + testament, written at St. Helena, willed a fixed sum of money to this + Professor Recco, in gratitude for the instruction given him in his youth.] + who taught at the royal college of Ajaccio as professor. A few times every + week the worthy professor would gather his pupils in a large hall, to read + them lectures upon ancient history, and especially upon the history of + Rome; and, in order to give to this hall a worthy and significant + ornament, he had it adorned on either side with two large and costly + banners, one of which had the initials S. P. Q. E., and represented the + standard of ancient Rome; facing it and on the opposite side of the hall + was the standard of Carthage. + </p> + <p> + Under the shadows of these standards were ranged the seats for the + scholars, and in the vacant centre of the large hall was the professor’s + chair, from which the Abbe Recco dictated to his pupils the history of the + heroic deeds of ancient Rome. + </p> + <p> + The elder children sat under the larger standard, under the standard of + Rome, and the junior boys immediately opposite, under the standard of + Carthage; and as Napoleon Bonaparte was the youngest scholar of the + institution, he sat near the Carthaginian standard, whilst his brother + Joseph, his senior by five years, had his seat facing him on the Roman + side. Though at the commencement of the lectures Napoleon’s delight had + been great, and though he had listened with enthusiasm to the history of + the struggles, and to the martial achievements of the ancient Romans, the + little Napoleon soon manifested an unmistaken repugnance to attend these + lectures. He would turn pale, as with his brother he entered the hall, and + with head bowed low, and dark, angry countenance, took his seat. A few + days afterward he declared to his brother Joseph, his lips drawn in by + anguish, that he would no more attend the lectures. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” asked Joseph, astonished. “Do you take no interest in the + Roman history? Can you not follow the lecture?” + </p> + <p> + The little Napoleon darted upon his brother a look of inexpressible + contempt. “I would be a simpleton if the history of heroes did not + interest me,” said he, “and I understand everything the good Professor + Recco says—I understand it so well that I often know beforehand what + his warriors and heroes will do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, since you have such a lively interest in the history of the + Romans, why will you no more follow the lectures?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I will not, I cannot,” murmured Napoleon, sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, at least, the reason, Napoleon,” said his brother. + </p> + <p> + The boy looked straight before him, for a long time hesitating and + undecided; then he threw up his head in a very decided manner, and gazed + on his brother with flaming eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” cried he, passionately, “I will tell you! I can no longer endure + the shame to sit down under the standard of the conquered and humiliated + Carthaginians. I do not deserve to be so disgraced.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Napoleon,” said Joseph, laughing, “why trouble yourself about the + standard of the old Carthaginians? One is just as well under it as under + the Roman standard.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it, then, the same to you under which standard you sit? Do you not + consider it as a great honor to sit under the standard of the victorious + Romans?” + </p> + <p> + “I look upon the one as being without honor, and upon the other as being + without shame,” said Joseph, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “If it is so,” cried out the little Napoleon, throwing himself on his + brother’s neck, “if it is for you no great sacrifice, then, I implore you + to save me, to make me happy, for you can do it! Let us change seats; give + me your place under the standard of Rome, and take my place instead.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph declared himself ready to do so, and when the two brothers came + next time to the lecture, Napoleon, with uplifted head and triumphant + countenance, took his seat under the standard of victorious Rome. + </p> + <p> + But soon the expression of joy faded away from his face, and his features + were overcast, and with a restless, sad look, he repeatedly turned himself + toward his brother Joseph, who sat facing him under the standard of the + conquered race. + </p> + <p> + Silent and sad he went home with Joseph, and when his mother questioned + him about the cause of his sorrow, he confessed, with tears in his eyes, + that he was a heartless egotist, that he had been unjust and cruel toward + Joseph, that he had cheated his brother of his place of honor and had + seated himself in it. + </p> + <p> + It required the most earnest assurances of Joseph that he placed no value + whatever on the seat; it required all the persuasiveness and authority of + Letitia to appease the boy, and to prevail upon him to resume the + conquered seat. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p.40.] + </p> + <p> + As the course of instruction which the boys had received in Ajaccio was + not sufficient for the times, and for the capacities of his sons, their + father passed over to France with Joseph and Napoleon, to take advantage + of the favorable resources for a more complete education. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon saw the time of departure approach with an apparently indifferent + mind, only his face was somewhat paler, he was still more monosyllabic and + more reserved than before; and his eyes, full of an indescribable + expression of tenderness and admiration, followed all the movements of his + mother, as if to print deeply in his soul the beloved image, so as to take + it with him beyond the seas, in all its freshness and beauty. + </p> + <p> + He wept not as he bade her farewell; not a word of sorrow or regret did he + speak, but he embraced his mother with impassioned fondness, he kissed her + hands, her forehead, her large black eyes, he sank down before her and + kissed her feet, then sprang up, and, after casting upon her whole figure + a deep, glowing look, he rushed away to embark at once, without waiting + for brother or father, who were yet bidding a touching farewell to + relatives and friends. + </p> + <p> + Letitia gazed after her Napoleon with glowing and wide-open eyes; she wept + not, she complained not, but she pressed her two hands on her heart as if + to keep it from breaking asunder, from bleeding to death; then she called + all her children around her, and, folding them up in her arms, exclaimed: + “Join your hands and pray with me that our little Napoleon may return home + to us a noble and great man.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as they had prosperously landed in France, the father placed his + two sons in the college of Autun, and then travelled farther on to Paris, + there to obtain, through the influence of his patrons and friends, a place + for his daughter Marianne (afterward Elise) in St. Cyr, an institution for + the daughters of noblemen, and also a place for Napoleon in the military + school of Brienne. His efforts were crowned with success; and whilst + Joseph remained at college in Autun, Napoleon had to part with him and go + to Brienne. + </p> + <p> + When the brothers bade farewell one to another, Joseph wept bitterly, and + his sighs and tears choked the tender words of farewell which his + quivering lips would have uttered. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon was quiet, and as his eye moistened with a tear, he endeavored to + hide it, and turned aside ashamed of himself and nearly indignant, for he + did not wish the Abbe Simon, one of the professors of the college, who was + present at the parting of the brothers, to see his unmanly tenderness. + </p> + <p> + But the Abbe Simon had seen that tear, and when Napoleon was gone he said + to Joseph: “Napoleon has shed but one tear, but that tear proves his deep + sorrow as much as all your tears.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” + vol. i., p.26.] + </p> + <p> + Taciturn and quiet as he had been in Ajaccio, the little Napoleon was + equally so at the military school of Brienne, where he remained from his + eleventh to his sixteenth year. His character had always something sombre + and hidden; his eye seemed turned more inwardly than outwardly; and his + fellowship with his books seemed to procure him a more pleasant recreation + than the company of his schoolmates, whose childish joys and pleasures he + despised or pretended to do so, because his limited pecuniary resources + did not allow him to share with them pleasures of an expensive nature. + </p> + <p> + But, though still and reserved, he always was friendly and courteous to + his comrades, grateful for every mark of friendship and kindness, and + always ready to protect the young and feeble against the overbearing and + the strong, censuring with grave authority every injustice, and with + Spartan harshness throwing his contempt into the very face of him who, + according to his standard, had offended against honor, the lofty spirit + and the dignity of a freeman. + </p> + <p> + It could not fail that soon Napoleon should win over his schoolmates a + marked moral influence; that they would listen to him as if he were their + superior; that they should feel something akin to fear in presence of the + flashing eyes of this little boy of barely fourteen years, whose pale, + expressive countenance, when illumined with anger, almost seemed to them + more terrible than that of the irritated face of the teacher, and whom + they therefore more willingly and more unconditionally obeyed than the + principal of the establishment. + </p> + <p> + One day the latter had forbidden the scholars to go to the fair in a + neighboring locality, because they had lately been guilty of excesses on a + similar occasion; and, so as to be sure that the scholars would not + trespass against his orders, the principal had the outside gate in the + front yard locked. + </p> + <p> + This last circumstance kindled Napoleon’s anger; he considered it as an + insult that the scholars should be treated as prisoners. + </p> + <p> + “Had we been ordered in the name of the law to remain here,” cried he, + “then honor itself would have claimed from us to remain, for law commands + obedience to our superiors. But since we are treated as slaves, who are by + main force compelled to submission, then honor claims from us to prove to + our oppressors that we are free beings, and that we desire to remain such. + We are treated as prisoners of war, kept under lock and bolt, but no one + has demanded our word of honor that we will make no effort to escape this + subjection. Whosoever has a brave heart and a soul full of honor’s love, + let him follow me!” + </p> + <p> + All the youngsters followed him without hesitation. More submissive to + this pale, small boy of fourteen years, than to the severe, strong, and + exalted principal, none dared oppose him as he stood in the garden, facing + a remote place in the wall, and giving orders to undermine it, so as to + make an outlet. All obeyed the given orders, all were animated with + burning zeal, with cheerful alacrity; and after an hour of earnest labor + the work was done, and the passage under the wall completed. + </p> + <p> + The scholars wanted to rush with jubilant cries through the opening, and + gain their freedom outside of the wall, but Napoleon held them back. + </p> + <p> + “I will go first,” said he. “I have been your leader throughout this + expedition, now I will be the first to pass out, that upon me may fall the + punishment when we are discovered.” + </p> + <p> + The young men fell back silently and respectfully, while, proud and + stately as a field-marshal who gives the signal for the battle, Napoleon + passed through their ranks, to be the first from the crowd to go through + the newly-made passage. + </p> + <p> + It could not fail that the daring of these “prisoners of war” should be + discovered, that the principal should be the very same day informed that + the young men had, notwithstanding his strict orders, notwithstanding the + closed gate, made a way for themselves, and had visited the prohibited + fair, while the principal believed them to be in the garden. + </p> + <p> + A strict inquiry took place the next morning. With threatening tones, the + principal ordered the young men to name him who had guided them to so + unheard-of a deed, who had misled them into disobedience and + insubordination. But all were still; none wished to be a traitor, not even + when the principal promised to all full pardon, full impunity, if they + would but name the instigator of their guilty action. + </p> + <p> + But as no one spoke, as no one would name him, Napoleon gave himself up as + the culpable one. + </p> + <p> + “I alone am guilty,” cried he, proudly. “I alone deserve punishment. These + have done only what I commanded them—they have but followed my + orders, nothing more. The guilt and the punishment are mine alone.” + </p> + <p> + The principal, glad to know the guilty one, kept his promise, and, + forgiving the rest, decided to punish only the one who acknowledged + himself to have been the leader. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon was, therefore, sentenced to the severest and most degrading + punishment known in the institution—to the so-called “monk’s + penalty.” That is to say, the future young soldier, in the coarse woollen + garment of a mendicant friar, was on his knees, to devour his meal from an + earthen vessel in the middle of the dining-room, while all the other boys + were seated at the table. + </p> + <p> + A deathly pallor overspread the face of the boy when he heard this + sentence. He had been for many days imprisoned in a cell with bread and + water, and he had without a murmur submitted to this correction, endured + already on a former occasion, but this degrading punishment broke his + courage. + </p> + <p> + Stunned, as it were, and barely conscious, he allowed the costume of the + punishment to be put on, but when he had been led into the dining-room, + where all the scholars were gathered for the noonday meal, when he was + forced upon his knees, he sank down to the ground with a heavy sigh, and + was seized with violent convulsions. + </p> + <p> + The rector himself, moved with deepest sympathy for the wounded spirit of + the boy, hastened to raise up Napoleon. At the same moment rushed into the + hall one of the teachers of the institution, M. Patrault, who had just + been informed of the execution which was about to be carried out on + Napoleon. With tears in his eyes, he hastened to Napoleon, and with + trembling hands tore from his shoulders the detestable garment, and broke + out at the same time in loud complaints that his best scholar, his first + mathematician, was to be dishonored and treated in an unworthy manner. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, however, was not always the reserved, grave boy who took no part + in the recreations and pleasures of the rest of his young schoolmates. + Whenever these amusements were of a more serious, of a higher nature, + Napoleon gladly and willingly took a part in them. Now and then in the + institution, on festivals, theatrical representations took place, and on + these occasions the citizens of Brienne were allowed to be present. + </p> + <p> + But to maintain respectable order, every one who desired to be present at + the representation had to procure a card of admission signed by the + principal. On the day of the exhibition, at the different doors of the + institution, were posted guards who received the admission cards, and + whose strict orders were to let no one pass in without them. These posts, + which were filled by the scholars, were under the supervision of superior + and inferior officers, and were confided only to the most distinguished + and most praiseworthy students. + </p> + <p> + One day, Voltaire’s tragedy, “The Death of Caesar,” was exhibited. + Napoleon had the post of honor of a first lieutenant for this festivity, + and with grave earnestness he filled the duties of his office. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly at the entrance of the garden arose a loud noise and vehement + recriminations of threatening and abusive voices. + </p> + <p> + It was Margaret Haute, the porter’s wife, who wanted to come in, though + she had no card of admission. She was well known to all the students, for + at the gate of the institution she had a little stall of fruits, eggs, + milk, and cakes, and all the boys purchased from her every day, and liked + to jest and joke with the pleasant and obliging woman. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Haute had therefore considered it of no importance to procure a + card of admission, which thing she considered to be superfluous for such + an important and well-known personage as herself. The greater was her + astonishment and anger when admission was refused, and she therefore began + to clamor loudly, hoping by this means to attract some of the scholars, + who would recognize her and procure her admittance. Meanwhile the post + guardian dared not act without superior orders, and the inferior officer + hastened to communicate the important event to the first lieutenant, + Napoleon de Bonaparte, and receive his decision. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, who ordinarily was kind to the fruit-vender, and gladly jested + with the humorous and coarse woman, listened to the report of the + lieutenant with furrowed brow and dark countenance, and with severe + dignity gave his orders: “Remove that woman, who takes upon herself to + introduce licentiousness into the camp.” [Footnote: Afterward, when First + Consul, Napoleon sent for this woman and her husband to come to Paris, and + he gave them the lucrative position of porter at the castle of Malmaison, + which charge they retained unto their death.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. + </h2> + <p> + While the boy Napoleon de Bonaparte pursued his studies as a student in + Brienne, she, who was one day to share his greatness and his fame, had + already appeared on the world’s stage as the wife of another. Josephine + Tascher de la Pagerie was already received in the highest society of Paris + as the Viscountess de Beauharnais. + </p> + <p> + Every thing seemed to promise to the young couple a happy, secure future, + free from care. They were both young, wealthy, of good family, and though + the parents had planned this marriage and joined together the hands of the + young couple, yet it was their good fortune that love should tie and + strengthen the bond which mere expediency had formed. + </p> + <p> + Yes, they loved one another, these young married people of sixteen and + eighteen. How could it have been otherwise, when they both met each other + with the candid and honest desire to make one another happy; when each of + them had been so well adapted to the other that their brilliant, good, and + beautiful qualities were so prominent that their eyes were blinded to the + possibility of imperfections and vices which perchance remained in the + obscure background of their virtue and of their amiableness? + </p> + <p> + Josephine had entered upon her marriage with a pure maiden heart, and soon + this heart glowed with enthusiasm for her young husband, who in reality + was well qualified to excite enthusiasm in a young maid and instil into + her a passionate attachment. Alexandre de Beauharnais was one of the most + brilliant and most beloved personages at the court of Versailles. His face + had all the beauty of regularity; his figure, marked by a lofty, even if + somewhat heavy form, was tall, well knit, and of wonderful elasticity and + energy; his manners were noble and prepossessing, fine and natural. Even + in a court so distinguished as that of Versailles for many remarkable + chevaliers, the Viscount de Beauharnais was considered as one of the most + lovely and most gifted: even the young Queen Marie Antoinette honored him + with special distinction. She had called him the most beautiful dancer of + Versailles, and consequently it was very natural that up to the time of + his marriage he should be invited to every court-ball, and there should + each time enjoy the pleasure of being requested to dance with the queen. + </p> + <p> + This flattering distinction of the Queen Marie Antoinette had naturally + made the young viscount the mark of attention of all these beautiful, + young, and coquettish ladies of Versailles. They used to say of him, that + in the dancing-room he was a zephyr, fluttering from flower to flower, but + at the head of his regiment he was a Bayard, dreaming only of war and + carnage. + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, quite natural that so brilliant and so preferred a + cavalier, a young man of so many varied accomplishments, a being so + impassioned, so gallant, should soon become the object of the most tender + and passionate fondness from a young wife, who in her quiet native land + had seen none to compare with him, and who became for her the ideal of + beauty, chivalry, elegance, and whom, in her devoted and admiring love, + she used to call her own Achilles. + </p> + <p> + Josephine loved her husband; she loved him with all the devotedness and + fire of a creole; she loved him and breathed but for him, and to be with + him seemed to her life’s golden, blessed dream. Added to all this, came + the joys and raptures of a Parisian life—these new, unknown, + diversified pleasures of society, these manifold distractions and + entertainments of the great city. Josephine abandoned herself to all this + with the joy and wantonness of an innocent, unsuspicious being. With all + these glorious things round about her, she felt as if surrounded by a sea + of blessedness and pleasure, and she plunged into it with the quiet daring + of innocency, which foresees not what breakers and abysses this sea + encloses under the shining surface. + </p> + <p> + But these breakers were there, and against them was the happiness of + Josephine’s love soon to be dashed to pieces. + </p> + <p> + She loved her young husband with her whole heart, with all her soul. But + he, the young, the flattered Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais, he also + loved his young wife, whom the wish and will of his superiors had placed + at his side. + </p> + <p> + He had not chosen her because he loved her, but only because he had + thought it expedient and advisable to become married, and because the + unknown Mademoiselle de la Pagerie had been offered to him as “a good + settlement.” Perhaps, also, he had contracted this marriage to get rid all + at once of those manifold ties, intrigues, and attachments which his open, + unrestrained life of youth had woven around him, for his marriage with the + young creole had put an end to many love-intrigues which perchance + threatened to be inconvenient and burdensome. + </p> + <p> + At first charmed by her foreign, unaccustomed appearance, transported by + her ingenuous grace, her sweet, lovely amiableness and freshness, he had + fully decided to love his young wife, and, with all the triumphant pride + of a lover, he had led Josephine into society, into the saloons. + </p> + <p> + But his eye was not blinded by the ravishment of a real and true love, and + in the drawing-room he saw what, in the solitude of the residence of + Noisy, where the young couple had retired for a few weeks after their + marriage, he might never have missed—he saw that Josephine possessed + not the lofty elegance and the exquisite manners of the ladies of the + Parisian saloons. She always was a charming, artless, graceful young + woman, but she lacked the striking advantages of a real drawing-room lady; + she lacked that perfect self-possession, that pliancy of refinement, that + sparkling wit, and that penetration, which then characterized the ladies + of the higher Parisian society, and which the young viscount had but + lately so fondly and passionately admired in the beautiful and celebrated + Baroness de B. + </p> + <p> + The viscount saw all these deficiencies of his young wife’s social + education, and this darkened his brow and brought on his cheek the flush + of shame. He was cruel enough to reproach Josephine, in somewhat harsh and + imperious tones, of her lack of higher culture, and thus the first + matrimonial difference clouded the skies of marriage happiness, which the + young unsuspecting wife had believed would ever be bright with sunshine. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, however, loved her young husband too fondly not to cheerfully + comply with all his wishes, not to strive to replace what he reproached + her to be lacking. + </p> + <p> + On a sudden she left the brilliant, enchanting Paris, which had entranced + her with its many joys and its many distractions, and, as her husband had + to be for some time at Blois with his regiment, she went to Noisy, to her + aunt’s residence, so as to labor at her higher mental culture, at the side + of the lovely and intellectual Madame de Renaudin. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had hitherto, as a simple, sentimental young lady, played the + guitar, and chirped with it, in her fresh but uncultivated voice, her + sweet songs of love. She gave up the guitar, the favorite instrument of + the creoles, and exchanged it for the harp, for which attainment as well + as for the art of singing she procured the best and ablest masters. Even a + dancing-master had to come to Noisy to give to the young viscountess that + perfection of art which would enable her, without fear, to dance at a ball + alongside of the Viscount de Beauharnais, “the beautiful dancer of + Versailles.” With her aunt she read the works of the writers and poets who + were then praised and loved, and with wonderful predilection she also + studied botany, to which science she ever clung during her life, and which + threw on her existence gleams of joy when the sun of her happiness had + long set. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who out of pure love for her husband learned and studied + zealously, communicated to the viscount, in her letters, every advancement + she made in her studies; and she was proud and happy when he applauded her + efforts, and when in his letters he praised her assiduity and her + progress. + </p> + <p> + But evidently these letters of the viscount contained nothing of that love + and ardor which the young fiery creole longed for from her husband; they + were not the utterances of a young, anxious lover, of an enthusiastic, + worshipping husband; but they were addressed to Josephine with the quiet, + cool benignity of a considerate friend, of a mentor, of a tutor who knows + full well how much above his pupil soars his own mind, and with what + supreme deference this pupil must look up to him. + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted,” wrote he once—“delighted at your zeal to acquire + knowledge and culture; this zeal, which we must ever cherish, is ever the + source of purest enjoyments, and possesses the glorious advantage, when we + follow its dictates, of never producing any grief. If you persevere in the + resolution you have taken, if you continue to labor with unabated zeal at + your personal improvement, be assured that the knowledge you will have + acquired will exalt you highly above all others; and whereas science and + modesty will be combined in you, you will succeed in becoming an + accomplished woman. The talents which you cultivate have their pleasant + side, and if you devote to them a portion of the day, you will unite the + agreeable to the useful.” [Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” vol. i., p. 110.] + </p> + <p> + This is what Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted. His wife, through her + knowledge, was to be highly exalted above all others. She was to study the + sciences, and become what is now called a learned woman, but what was then + termed a philosophical woman. + </p> + <p> + The ambition of the ardent viscount required that his young wife should be + the rival of his learned, verse-writing aunt, the Baroness Fanny de + Beauharnais; that Josephine, if not the most beautiful and most + intellectual woman of Paris, should be the most accomplished. + </p> + <p> + But these extravagant expectations did not, unfortunately, coincide + entirely with the tastes and mental tendencies of Josephine. No one was + less qualified than she to be a philosophical woman, and to make the + sciences a serious study. It was far from her ambition to desire to shine + by her knowledge; and the learned and scientific Baroness de Beauharnais + only excited fear and antagonism on account of her stiff and pretentious + pedantry, which seemed to Josephine to have but little in harmony with a + woman’s being. + </p> + <p> + Josephine loved the sciences and the arts, but she did not wish to convert + herself into their devoted priestess. She wished merely to adorn herself + with their blossoms, to take delight in their fragrance, and to rejoice in + their beauty. With instinctive sentiment she did not wish to have the + grace and youthful freshness of her womanly appearance marred by + knowledge; her heart longed not for the ambition of being called a learned + woman; she only wished to be a beloved wife. + </p> + <p> + But the viscount, instead of recognizing and cherishing the tender and + sacred treasures which reposed in the heart of his young wife, ridiculed + her for her sensitiveness; allowed himself, through displeasure at her + uncultivated mind, to utter unreasonable reproaches, and to act harshly + toward his wife; and her tears were not calculated to conciliate him or to + gain his heart. He treated Josephine with a sort of contemptuous + compassion, with a mocking superiority, and her young, deeply-wounded + soul, intimidated and bleeding, shrank back into itself. Josephine became + taciturn, embarrassed, and mute, in her husband’s presence; she preferred + being silent, rather than by her conversation, which might not appear + intellectual and piquant enough for the viscount, to annoy and irritate + him. + </p> + <p> + Confidence and harmony had flown away from the household of the young + couple. From his timid, silent wife, with tears in her eyes and a mute + complaint on her trembling lips, the husband rushed away into the world, + into society, to the boisterous joys of a garrison’s life, or else to the + dangerous, intoxicating amusements which the refined world of the + drawing-rooms offered him. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely after a two years’ marriage, the young bridegroom was again the + zephyr of the drawing-room; and, breaking asunder the bonds with which the + marriage and the household had bound him, he fluttered again from flower + to flower, was once more the gallant cavalier of the belles, forgot duty + and wife, to pay his attentions and bring his homage to the ladies of the + court. + </p> + <p> + But this neglect which she now experienced from her husband, this evident + preference for other women, suddenly awoke Josephine from her painful + resignation, from her quiet melancholy. The young, patient, retreating + wife was changed at once into an irritated lioness, and, amid the + refinements of the French polish, with all its gilded accompaniments, + uprose the glowing, impassioned, threatening creole. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, wounded both in her vanity and in her love—Josephine + wished not and could not bear, as a passive, silent sufferer, the neglect + of her husband; he had insulted her as a woman, and the wrath of a woman + rose within her. She screened not her jealousy from her husband; she + reproached him for preferring other women to his wife, for neglecting her + for the sake of others, and she required that to her alone he should do + homage, that to her alone he should consecrate love and allegiance. She + wept, she complained, when she learned that, whilst she was left at home + unnoticed, he had been here and there in the company of other women; she + allowed herself to be so carried away by jealousy as to make violent + reproaches against her husband. + </p> + <p> + But tears and reproaches are not in the least calculated to bring back to + a wife the heart of a husband, and jealousy recalls not a husband’s love, + when that love has unfolded his pinions and flown away. It only causes the + poor butterfly to feel that marriage had tied its wings with a thread, and + that it constantly recalls him away, with the severe admonitions of duty, + from the beautiful flowers toward which he desires to fly. + </p> + <p> + The complaints and reproaches of Josephine, however much they proved her + love, had precisely the contrary effect from what she expected. Through + them she wanted to bring back her husband to her love, but she repelled + him further still; he flew away from her complaints to the merry society + of his friends, male and female, and left Josephine alone at Noisy to weep + over her wretchedness. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding all this, they were both to be again reunited one to + another in a new bond of love and happiness. On the 3d of September, 1781, + Josephine presented to her husband a son, the heir of his name, and for + whom the father had already so long craved. Alexandre came to Noisy to be + present at the birth of his child, and with true, sincere affection he + embraced son and mother, and swore everlasting love and fidelity to both. + </p> + <p> + But circumstances were stronger than the will of this young man of + twenty-two years. The monotonous life of Noisy, the quietude which + prevailed in the house on account of the young mother, could not long + retain captive the fiery young man. He endured this life of solitude, of + watching at the bedside, of listening to the child’s cries, for a whole + week, and then was drawn away with irresistible attraction to Paris; the + father’s tenderness could no longer restrain the glowing ardor, the + impassioned longings for distraction in the young man; and the viscount + left Noisy to lead once more in Paris or with his garrison the free, + unrestrained dissipations of his earlier days. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was comfortless. She had hoped the son would retain the father, + but he left her alone, alone with the child, and with all the torments of + her jealousy. + </p> + <p> + It is true, he came back now and then to see his son, his little Eugene, + and also to make amends to the young, sick, and suffering mother, by a few + days’ presence, for the many days of absence. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine, irritated, jealous, too young, too inexperienced to + reflect, Josephine committed the fault of receiving her husband every time + he came, with reproaches and complaints, and of meeting him with violent + scenes of jealousy and of offended dignity. The viscount himself, so + young, so impassioned, had not the patience to go with calm indifference + through the purgatory of such scenes. His proud heart rebelled against the + chains with which marriage would bind him; he was angry with this woman + who dared reproach him; he was the more vexed that his conscience told him + she was unjust toward him, that he was the innocent one. He returned her + complaints with deriding scorn; he allowed himself to be carried away by + her reproaches to the manifestation of violent anger; and the tempest of + matrimonial discord raged through this house, which at first seemed to + have been built for a temple of peace and happiness. + </p> + <p> + The parents of the young couple saw with deep, heartfelt concern the gap + deepening between them both, and which every day widened more and more, + and as their warnings and wishes now remained fruitless, they resolved to + try if a long absence might not heal the wounds which they both had + inflicted upon their own hearts. At the request of his father and of + Madame de Renaudin, the viscount undertook a long journey to Italy, from + which he returned only after nearly nine months’ absence. + </p> + <p> + What the relatives had hoped from this journey seemed to be realized. The + viscount returned home to his Josephine with a penitent, tender heart; and + Josephine, enchanted with his tenderness, with the pliant loveliness of + his whole being—Josephine, with a smile of blessedness and with + happy dreams of the future, rested once more on the bosom of the man whom, + even in her angry moods, she had never ceased to love. + </p> + <p> + But after a few months passed in happiness and harmony, the viscount was + once more obliged to separate himself from his wife, to meet his regiment, + which was now in Verdun. Absence soon broke the slender threads which had + bound together the hearts of husband and wife. Alexandre abandoned himself + to his tendencies to dissipation, and Josephine to her jealousy. During + the frequent visits which the viscount paid to his wife in Noisy, he was + received with tears and reproaches, which always ended in violent scenes + of anger and bitterness. + </p> + <p> + Such an existence, full of ever-recurring storms and ceaseless discord, + weighed heavily on the hearts of both husband and wife, and made them long + for an issue from this Labyrinth of an unhappy marriage. Yet neither of + them dreamed of a separation; not only their son, the little Eugene, kept + them from such thoughts, but also the new hopes which Josephine carried in + her bosom would have made such thoughts appear criminal. It was necessary + to endeavor to bear life as well as one could, and not allow one’s self to + be too much lacerated by its thorns, even if there was no further hope of + gathering its roses. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais, even if he lacked the skill of being a faithful, + devoted husband, was a noble and goodnatured man, whose generous heart + wanted to punish himself alone for the error of this marriage, which + weighed so heavily on husband and wife; and, in order to procure peace to + both, he resolved to become an exile, to tear away pitilessly the + attractive ties which society, friends, and women, had woven around him. + If he could not be a good husband, he might at least be a good soldier; + and, whereas his heart could not adopt the resolution of devoting itself + with exclusive affection to his wife, he resolved to devote himself + entirely to that love to which he had never been disloyal, the love of + fame. His ambitious nature longed for honors and distinction; his + restless, youthful courage craved for action and battle-fields; and, as no + opportunity offered itself on land, Alexandre de Beauharnais decided to + search on the seas for what was denied him on land. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis de Bouille, governor of Martinique, had just arrived in + France, to propose to the government a new expedition against the British + colonies in the Antilles. Already this fearless and enterprising man, + since he had been in Martinique, with the forces at his disposal, with the + help of the young creoles, and supported by the squadrons which lay in + Port Royal, had conquered Dominique, Grenada, St. Vincent, St. Christophe, + Mievres, and Montserrat, and now he contemplated an attack upon the rich + and important island of Jamaica, whose conquest he trusted would force the + English into peace. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted nothing more attractive than to join this + important and daring enterprise of the Marquis de Bouille. With + recommendations from his uncle, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the viscount + hastened to the Marquis de Bouille, begged of him instantly the privilege + of serving under him, and offered his services as adjutant. + </p> + <p> + The marquis received with kindness a young man so earnestly recommended, + and gave him the hope of fulfilling his wishes. These hopes were not, + however, realized; and the viscount, no longer able to endure the burden + of uncertainty and of domestic discord, decided to leave France on his own + responsibility, to sail for Martinique, and there to enlist as a simple + volunteer, under the orders of the governor. + </p> + <p> + In September, 1782, he left Noisy for Brest, there to embark for + Martinique. At the hour of departure the love, which for so long had been + hidden under the dark cloud of jealousy and discord, awoke in all its glow + and energy in the hearts of the young couple. With streaming eyes + Josephine embraced her husband, and in the most touching tones entreated + him to remain with her, entreated him not to tear the father away from the + son, who already recognized him and stretched his little hands toward him, + nor from the child yet unborn in her bosom. Carried away by so much + intensity of affection, by such a fond, all-pardoning love, Alexandre was + deeply moved; he regretted the past, and the decision he had taken to + leave his wife and his family. All the sweet emotions of peace, of home, + of paternal bliss, of married life, overcame him in this hour of farewell + with, resistless power, and in Josephine’s arms he wept bitter tears of + repentance, of love, of farewell. + </p> + <p> + But these tears, no more than his wife’s regrets, could make him waver in + his determination. + </p> + <p> + The word of separation had been spoken, and it had to be fulfilled. Amid + the anguish of parting, he felt for himself the necessity of breaking, by + means of a long absence, with the evil practices of the past, and to make + amends for the sad errors of his youth. + </p> + <p> + He left his home to win in a distant land the happiness which he had in + vain sought at the side of his wife, of his son, and of his family. Before + the ship upon which he was to embark for his journey weighed anchor, he + took a last farewell of his family in a letter addressed to Madame de + Renaudin. + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said he, “received the letter which tells of your good wishes + for the future, and I have read with the deepest interest the assurances + of your attachment. These assurances would still have been more flattering + to me, could they have convinced me that my actual course has your + approbation, and that you estimate rightly my determination, and the + sacrifice I am making. However, I have on my side conscience, which + applauds me for preferring, to the real, actual joys of a quiet and + pleasurable existence, the prospect, even if a remote one, of preferment, + which may secure me a distinguished position and a distinction which may + be of advantage to my children. The greater have been my sacrifices, the + more commendable it is to have made them; and if chance only favors my + determination, then the laurels I will win shall make ample amends for all + troubles and hardships, and shall change all my anguish into joy!—Be + kind enough, I pray you, to embrace for me, my father, my wife, and + Eugene!” [Forward: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i, p. 133.] + </p> + <p> + It is evident that Alexandre de Beauharnais had gone to Martinique to win + fame and to fight for laurels. But chance favored not his resolves. He had + no sooner landed in Martinique, than the news spread that negotiations had + begun between England and France. M. de Bouille received strict orders to + make no attack on Jamaica; and a few weeks after, on the 20th of January, + 1783, the preliminaries of peace were signed at Versailles. A few months + later, peace was concluded, and all the conquests made by the Marquis de + Bouille were returned to England. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais had then come in vain to Martinique. No fame was + to be won—no laurels could be gathered there. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, however, the viscount found another occupation for his + restless heart, for the vague cravings of his affections. He made the + acquaintance there with a young creole, who had been a widow for the last + six months, and who had returned to Martinique from France to pass there + her year’s mourning. But her heart had no mourning for her deceased + husband; it longed for Paris, it craved for the world and its joys. She + was yet, though a few years older than the viscount, a young woman; she + was beautiful—of that wondrous, enticing beauty peculiar to the + creoles; she was an accomplished mistress in the difficult art of + pleasing, and she formed the design of gaining the heart of the impulsive + Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais. This design was not undertaken because + he seemed worthy of love, but because she wanted to revenge herself on the + family of Tascher de la Pagerie, which family had been for a long time at + enmity with her own, and had given free and open expression against the + too easy manners and light behavior of the beautiful widow. She wanted to + take vengeance for these insults by seducing from M. de la Pagerie his own + son-in-law, and by enjoying the triumph of having charmed away the husband + from his daughter. + </p> + <p> + The proverb says, “What woman will, woman can!” and what the beautiful + Madame de Gisard wanted was not so very hard to achieve. All she wished + was to hold complete sway over the heart of a young man who felt heavily + burdened with the fetters of marriage; who, now that the schemes of + ambition had failed, reproached his young wife that she was the cause of + his misfortune; that for her sake he had exiled himself from home, and + sentenced himself to the dulness and loneliness of a village-life in + Martinique. The society of the beautiful Madame de Gisard brought at least + novelty and distraction to this loneliness; she gave occupation to the + heart weary with connubial storms; she excited his fancy and his desires. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Gisard knew how to use all these advantages; she wanted to + triumph over the family of De la Pagerie, she wanted to return to Paris in + the company of a young, handsome, and distinguished lover. + </p> + <p> + It was not enough to win the love of the viscount; she had to drive him + into the resolution of separating from his wife, of accusing her of + unfaithfulness and guilt, so as to have the right of casting her away, in + order that she herself might openly occupy her place. Madame de Gisard had + the requisite talent to carry out her plans, and to acquire full control + over the otherwise rebellious and proud heart of the young man. She first + began to lead him into open rupture with his father and mother-in-law. + Through respect for them, the viscount had avoided appearing in public + with Madame de Gisard, and betraying the intimacy which existed between + them. Madame de Gisard ridiculed his bashfulness and submissive spirit; + she considered this servility to the head of the family as absurd, and she + drove the viscount by means of scorn and sarcasm to open revolt. + </p> + <p> + Then, after separating him from his wife’s family, she attacked the wife + herself. With all the cunning and smoothness of a seducing demon, she + encompassed the young man’s heart, and filled it with mistrust against + Josephine. She accused the forsaken one with levity and unfaithfulness; + she filled his heart with jealousy and rancor; she used all the means of + perfidy and calumny of which a woman is capable, and in which she finds a + refuge when her object is to ruin, and she succeeded completely. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais was now entirely hers; he was gathering against + Josephine anger and vengeance; and even when he received the news that, on + the 13th of April, 1783, his young wife had given birth to a daughter at + Noisy, his soul was not moved by soft emotions, by milder sentiments of + reconciliation. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Gisard had taught him that henceforth he need no more be on the + defensive in reference to the reproaches of Josephine, but that he now + must be the aggressor; that, to justify his own guiltiness, he must accuse + his wife of guilt. She had offered herself as the price of his reconquered + freedom; and the viscount, overcome with love, anger, and jealousy, was + anxious to become worthy of this price. + </p> + <p> + He left Martinique and returned to Noisy, not to embrace and bless his + daughter Eugenie Hortense, but to bow down the mother’s head with the + curse of shame. He accused, without listening to any justification, and, + with all the vehemence of misguided passion, he asked for an immediate + separation, an immediate divorce. Vain were the expostulations, the + prayers of his father and of Madame de Renaudin. Vain were the tears, the + assurances of innocence from Josephine. The tears of an injured woman, the + prayers of his sorrowing relatives, were impotent against the whisperings + and the seducing smiles of the beautiful Madame de Gisard, who had + secretly accompanied him to France, and who had now over him an + unconditional sway. + </p> + <p> + The viscount brought before Parliament a complaint for separation from his + wife, and based it upon the most improbable and most shameless + accusations. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who, for two years in loneliness and abandonment, had awaited + the return of her husband; Josephine, who had always hoped, through the + voice of her children, to recall her husband to herself, saw herself + suddenly threatened with a new, unexpected tempest. Two years of suffering + were finally to be rewarded by a scandalous process, which exposed her + person to the idle and malicious tongues of the Parisians. + </p> + <p> + She had, however, to submit to fate; she had to bow her head to the storm, + and trust for her justification to the mercy of God and to the justice of + the Parliament. During the time of the process she withdrew, according to + custom, into a convent, and for nearly one year hid herself with her shame + and her anguish in the abbey of Pantemont, in the street Grenelle, St. + Germain. However, she was not alone; her aunt, Madame de Renaudin, + accompanied her, and every day came the Marquis de Beauharnais, her + husband’s father, bringing her the children, who, during the time of the + unfortunate process, were to remain at Noisy, under the guardianship of + their grandfather and of a worthy governess. The members of her husband’s + family rivalled each other in their manifestations of affection to a woman + so much injured and so incriminated, and openly before the world they + declared themselves against the viscount, who, blinded by passion and + entirely in the chains of this ensnaring woman, was justifying the + innocency of his wife by his own indiscreet demeanor—by the public + exhibition of his passion for Madame de Gisard, and thus caused the + accusations launched against Josephine to recoil upon his own head. + </p> + <p> + At last, after one year of debates, of careful considerations and + investigations, of receiving evidence, and of hearing witnesses, the + Parliament pronounced its decision. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was declared absolutely innocent of the crimes brought against + her, and was entirely acquitted of the accusation of unfaithfulness. The + Parliament pronounced the solemn decree: The accusation directed against + the Viscountess de Beauharnais was simply a malicious calumny. The + innocency of the accused wife was evident, and consequently the Viscount + de Beauharnais was bound to receive again his wife into his house. + However, the viscountess was permitted and allowed not to share the same + residence with her husband, and to separate herself from him. In this case + the viscount was condemned to pay to his wife an annual pension of ten + thousand francs, and to leave with her mother his daughter Eugenie + Hortense, while he, the father, should provide for the education of the + son. + </p> + <p> + Exonerated from the disgraceful imputation of faithlessness, Josephine was + again free to leave the convent and return to the life of the world. It + was her husband’s family which now prepared for the poor young woman the + most beautiful and most touching triumph. The father of her, accuser, the + Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his elder son and wife, the Duke and + Duchess de la Rochefoucauld, and the Baroness Fanny de Beauharnais, came + in their state carriages to the abbey to receive Josephine and lead her + back to Paris. They had been joined by a great number of the most + respectable and most noble ladies of the Parisian aristocracy, all in + their state carriages, and in the splendor of their armorial trappings and + liveries, as if it were to accompany a queen returning home. + </p> + <p> + Josephine shed tears of blessed joy when quitting her small, sombre rooms + in the abbey. She entered into the reception-room to bid farewell to the + prioress, and there met all these friends and relatives, who saluted her + with looks of deepest tenderness and sympathy, and embraced her in their + arms as one found again, as one long desired. This hour of triumph + indemnified her for the sorrows and sufferings of the unhappy year which + the poor wife of scarcely twenty years of age, and fleeing from calumny + and hatred, liar! sighed away in the desolate and lonesome convent. She + was free, she was justified; the disgrace was removed from her head; she + was again authorized to be the mother of her children; she saw herself + surrounded by loving parents, by true friends, and yet in her heart there + was a sting. Notwithstanding his cruelty, his harshness, though he had + abandoned and despised her, her heart could not be forced into hating the + husband for whom she had so much wept and suffered. Her tears had + impressed his image yet deeper in her heart. He was the husband of her + first love, the father of her children; how could Josephine have hated + him, how could her heart, so soft and true, cherish animosity against him? + </p> + <p> + At the side of her husband’s father, and holding her daughter in her arms, + Josephine entered Paris. Behind them came a long train of brilliant + equipages, of relatives and friends. The passers-by stopped to see the + brilliant procession move before them, and to ask what it meant. Some had + recognized the viscountess, and they told to others of the sufferings and + of the acquittal of the poor young woman; and the people, easily affected + and sympathizing, rejoiced in the decision of the Parliament, and with + shouts and applause followed the carriage of the young wife. + </p> + <p> + The marquis, her father-in-law, turned smilingly to Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see, my daughter,” said he, “what a triumph you enjoy, and how + much you are beloved and recognized?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine bent down toward the little Hortense and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said she, in a low voice, “we are returning home, but the father of + my children will not bid us welcome. For a pressure of his hand, for a + kind word from him, I would gladly give the lofty triumph of this hour.” + </p> + <p> + No, Alexandre de Beauharnais did not bid welcome to Josephine in his + father’s house, which they had occupied together. Ashamed and irritated, + he had sped away from Paris, and returned to his regiment at Verdun. + </p> + <p> + On the arm of the Marquis de Beauharnais, Josephine traversed the + apartments in which she had lived with her husband, and which she now saw + again as a widow, whom not death but life had separated from her husband. + Her father-in-law saw the tears standing in her eyes, and, with the + refined sympathy of a sensitive mind, he understood the painful thoughts + which agitated the soul of the young wife. + </p> + <p> + He fondly folded her in his arms, and laid his blessing hand on the head + of the little Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my son Alexandre,” said he, “but I have found in his stead a + daughter. Yes, Josephine, you are and will remain my daughter, and to you + and to your children I will be a true father. My son has parted from us, + but we remain together in harmony and love, and as long as I live my + daughter Josephine will never want a protector.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. TRIANON AND MARIE ANTOINETTE. + </h2> + <p> + Whilst the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais, the empress of the + future, was living in enforced widowhood, the life of Marie Antoinette, + the queen of the present, resembled a serene, golden, sunny dream; her + countenance, beaming with youth, beauty, and grace, had never yet been + darkened with a cloud; her large blue eyes had not yet been dimmed with + tears. + </p> + <p> + In Fontainebleau, whither Josephine had retired with her father-in-law, + who through unfortunate events had lost the greatest part of his fortune—in + Fontainebleau lived the future Empress of France in sad monotony; in + Versailles, in Trianon, lived the present Queen of France in the dazzling + splendor of her glory, of her youth, and of her beauty. In Trianon—this + first gift of love from the king to his wife—the Queen of France + dreamed life away in a pleasant idyl, in a joyous pastoral amusement; + there, she tried to forget that she was queen, that is to say, that she + was the slave of etiquette; there she tried to indemnify herself for the + tediousness, the emptiness, the heartlessness of the great festivals in + the Tuileries and in Versailles. + </p> + <p> + In Trianon, Marie Antoinette desired to be the domestic wife, the + pleasant, youthful woman, as in the Tuileries and at Versailles she was + the proud and lofty queen. Marie Antoinette felt her days obscured by the + splendors of royalty; the crown weighed heavily on her beautiful head, + which seemed made for a crown of myrtle and roses; life’s earnestness had + not yet cast its breath on those rosy cheeks and robbed of youth’s charm + the smile on those crimson lips. + </p> + <p> + And why should not Marie Antoinette have smiled and been joyous? Every + thing shone round about her; every thing seemed to promise an enduring + harvest of felicity, for the surface of France was calm and bright, and + the queen’s vision had not yet been made keen enough by experience to + penetrate below this shining surface and see the precipices already hidden + underneath. + </p> + <p> + These precipices were yet covered with flowers, and the skies floating + above them seemed yet cloudless. The French people appeared to retain yet + for the royal family that enthusiastic devotedness which they had + manifested for centuries; they fondly proclaimed to the queen, whenever + she appeared, their affection, their admiration; they were not weary with + the expressions of their rapture and their worship, and Marie Antoinette + was not weary of listening to these jubilant manifestations with which she + was received in the theatre, on the streets, in the gardens of the + Tuileries, on the terraces of Versailles; she was not weary of returning + thanks with a friendly nod or with a gracious smile. + </p> + <p> + All the Parisians seemed still to be, as once, at the arrival of the + Dauphin, they had been called by the Baron de Vesenval, “the queen’s + lovers,” and also to rival one another in manifesting their allegiance. + </p> + <p> + Even the fish-women of Paris shared the general enthusiasm; and when, in + 1781, the queen had given to her husband a son, and to his people a future + monarch, the ladies of “the Halls” were amongst the most enthusiastic + friends of the queen. They even came to Versailles to congratulate the + royal couple on the dauphin’s birth, to salute the young dauphin as the + heir to the crown of France, and to sing under the window of the king some + songs, one of which so pleased the king that oftentimes afterward, in his + quiet and happy hours, he used to sing a verse of it with a smile on his + lip. This Terse, which even Marie Antoinette sang, ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ne craignez pas, cher papa, + D’ voir augmenter vot’ famille, + Le bon Dieu z’y pourvoira: + Faits-en taut qu’ Versailles en fourmille; + Yeut-il cent Bourbons cheu nos + Ya du pain, du laurier pour tous.” + </pre> + <p> + [Footnote: Madaine ile Carapan, “Histoire de Marie Antoinette,” vol. i., + p. 218.] + </p> + <p> + In Trianon, Marie Antoinette passed her happiest hours and days; there, + the queen changed herself into a shepherdess; there, vanished from her the + empty splendors of purple and ermine, of etiquette and ceremonial; there, + she enjoyed life in its purity, in its innocency, in its naturalness; such + was the ideal Marie Antoinette wished to realize in Trianon. + </p> + <p> + A simple dress of white muslin, a light kerchief of gauze, a straw hat + with a gayly-colored ribbon, such was the attire of the queen and of the + princesses whom Marie Antoinette invited. For the only etiquette which + prevailed at Trianon was this: that no one from the court, even princes or + princesses, should come to Trianon without having received an invitation + from the queen to that effect. Even the king submitted to this ceremonial, + and had expressly promised his consort never to come to Trianon without an + invitation, and, so as to please the queen, no sooner did she announce her + intention of retiring to her country-residence, than he was always the + first who hastened to obtain the favor of an invitation. + </p> + <p> + In Trianon, Louis ceased to be king as well as Marie Antoinette ceased to + be queen. There Louis XVI. was but the farmer of the lady of the castle; + the Count d’Artois was the miller, and the learned Count de Provence, the + schoolmaster. For each of them had been erected in the gardens of Trianon + a separate house suited to their respective avocations. + </p> + <p> + The farmer Louis had his farm-house built in Swiss style, with a balcony + of finely-carved wood at the gable-end, and with stalls attached to the + house, and where bellowed the stately red cows of Switzerland; behind the + house was a small garden in which the variegated convolvulus and the daisy + shed their fragrance. + </p> + <p> + The Count d’Artois had, near the stream which flowed through the park, his + miller’s house, with an enormous wheel, made of wooden spokes joined + together, and which moved lustily in the water, and adorned the clear + brook with wavelets of foam. + </p> + <p> + The Count de Provence had, under the shadow of a mulberry-tree, his house, + with a large school-room in it; and oftentimes the whole court-society + were converted into scholars of both sexes, who took their seats on the + benches of the school-room, whilst the Count de Provence, in a long coat + with lead buttons and with an immense rod in his hand, ascended the + cathedra and delivered to his school-children a humorous and piquant + lecture, all sparkling with wit. + </p> + <p> + The princesses also had in this “grove of Paradise,” as Marie Antoinette + called the woods of Trianon, their cottages, where they milked cows, made + butter, and searched for eggs in the hens’ nests. In the midst of all + these cottages and Swiss houses stood the cottage of the farming Marie + Antoinette; it was the finest and the most beautiful one of all, adorned + with vases full of fragrant blossoms and surrounded by flowering plants + and by cozy bowers of verdure. This cottage was the highest delight of the + queen’s life, the enchanting toy of her happiness. Even the little castle + of Trianon, however simple and modest, seemed too splendid for the taste + of the pastoral queen. For in Trianon one was always reminded that the + lady of this castle was a queen; there, servants were in livery; there, + officials and names and titles were to be found, even when etiquette was + forbidden entrance into the halls of the little castle of Trianon. Marie + Antoinette was no more queen there, it is true, but she was the lady of + the palace to whom the highest respect was shown, and who therefore had + been constrained expressly and strictly to order that at her entrance into + the drawing-rooms the ladies would not interrupt the piece begun on the + piano, nor stand up if seated at their embroidery, and that the gentlemen + would keep on undisturbed their billiard-party or their game at trictrac. + </p> + <p> + But in her cottage all rank disappeared; there, was no distinction; there, + ceased the glory of name and title, and no sooner was the castle abandoned + for the cottages than each named the other with some Arcadic, pastoral + appellation, and each busied himself with his rural avocations. How + lustily the laughter, how merrily the song sounded from these cottages + amid these bowers and groves; how the countenance of the farming-lady was + lighted up with happiness and joy; with what delight rested upon her the + eye of the farmer Louis, who in his blue blouse, with a straw hat on his + head, with a rosy, fleshy, good-natured face, was exactly fitted for his + part, and who found it no difficult task to hide under the farmer’s + garment the purple of the king! + </p> + <p> + How often was Marie Antoinette seen in her simple white dress, her glowing + countenance shaded by a straw hat, bounding through the garden as light as + a gazelle, and going from the barn to the milk-room, followed by the + company she had invited to drink of her milk and eat of her fresh eggs! + How often, when the farmer Louis had secreted himself in a grove for the + sake of reading, how often was he discovered there by the queen, torn away + from his book and drawn to a dejeuner on the grass! When that was over, + and Louis had gone back to his book, Marie Antoinette hastened to her cows + to see them milked, or she went into the rocking-boat to fish, or else + reposed on the lawn, busy as a peasant, with her spindle. + </p> + <p> + But this quiet occupation detained not long the lively, spirited + farming-lady; with a loud voice, she called to her maids or companions + from the cottages, and then began those merry, unrestrained amusements + which the queen had introduced into society, and which since then have + been introduced not only into the drawing-rooms of the upper classes, but + also into the more austere circles of the wealthy burghers. + </p> + <p> + Then the queen with her court played at blindman’s bluff, at pampam, or at + a game invented by the Duke de Chartres, the future Duke Philippe + d’Orleans, Egalite, and which game was called “descamper,” a sort of + hide-and-seek amusement, in which the ladies hid themselves in the shady + bushes and groves, to be there discovered by the gentlemen, and then to + endeavor by flight to save themselves, for if once caught and seized they + had to purchase their liberty with a kiss. + </p> + <p> + When evening came all left the cottages for the little castle, and the + pastoral recreations gave way to the higher enjoyments of refined society. + Marie Antoinette was not in the castle of Trianon queen again, but she was + not either the simple lady of the farm, she was the lady of the castle, + and—the first amateur in the theatrical company which twice a week + exhibited their pieces in the theatre of Trianon. + </p> + <p> + These theatrical performances were quite as much the queen’s delight as + her pastoral occupations in her farm cottages, and Marie Antoinette was + unwearied in learning and studying her parts. She had chosen for teachers + two pensioned actors, Caillot and Dazincourt, who had to come every day to + Trianon to teach to the noble group of actors the small operas, + vaudevilles, and dramas, which had been chosen for representation, and in + which the queen naturally always played the part of first amateur, while + the princesses, the wives of the Counts de Provence and Artois, the two + Countesses de Polignac, undertook the other parts, even those of + gentlemen, when the two brothers of the king, the only male members of + this theatrical company, could not assume all the gentlemen’s parts. + </p> + <p> + At first the audience at these representations was very limited. Only the + king, the princes and the princesses of the royal household, not engaged + in the performance, constituted the audience; but afterward it was found + that to encourage the actors a little, a larger audience was needed; then + the boxes were filled with the governesses of the princesses, the queen’s + waiting-women, whose sisters and daughters with a few other select ladies + had been invited. + </p> + <p> + It was natural that those who had been thus preferred, and who enjoyed the + privilege of seeing the Queen of France, the princes and princesses, + appear as actors, should be full of admiration and applause at the talents + displayed by the royal troupe; and as they alone formed the select + audience, whose presence had for object to animate the artistes, they had + also assumed the duty to excite and to vitalise the zeal and the fire of + the players by their enthusiasm and by their liberal praises. + </p> + <p> + This applause of a grateful public blinded the royal actors as to their + real merits, and excited in them the ambition to exhibit their artistic + talents before a larger audience and to be admired. Consequently, the + queen granted to the officers of the lifeguard and to the masters of the + king’s stalls and to their brothers, admittance into the theatre; the + gentlemen and ladies of the court had seats in the gilt boxes; a larger + number of ladies were invited, and soon from all sides came requests for + tickets of admission to the theatrical performances in the Trianon. + </p> + <p> + The same privileges which had been allowed to a few could not be, and it + was not desirable that they should be, granted to all; those who were + purposely refused revenged themselves of this refusal by an unsparing + criticism on the performers and by bitter sarcasm at the Queen of France, + who so far forgot her dignity as to play comedies before her subjects, and + who played her part not always in such a manner as to give to a sharp + criticism no reason for blame. + </p> + <p> + The queen possessed, it is true, the desire, but not the ability, to be an + actress or a songstress. When she played the part of a comedian, no one + felt tempted to laugh; but contrariwise it might often happen that, when + her part was tragical, impressive and touching even to tears, the faces of + her auditors brightened with involuntary laughter. + </p> + <p> + Once even it happened that a person from the audience, when the queen had + not yet left the stage, cried aloud, and perhaps with the intention of + being heard by her: “One must confess that royal acting is bad acting!” + </p> + <p> + Though she understood the words, yet the smile on her lips vanished not + away; and as the Countess Diana de Polignac wished to persuade her to + allow the impertinent one who had spoken these words, to be sought out and + punished, the queen, shrugging her shoulders answered: “My friend, I say + as Madame de Maintenon: ‘I am upon the stage, and must therefore be + willing to be applauded or hissed.’” + </p> + <p> + Yes, she had to endure the applause or the hissing. Unfortunately, the + number of those who hissed grew every day. The queen had provoked public + expression since she bade it defiance. On the day she banished etiquette + from its watchful duty at the apartments of the Queen of France, the + public expression with its train of slanders and maliciousness entered in + through the open portals. The queen was blamed for her theatricals as well + as for her simple, unadorned toilet, yet she was imitated in these two + things, as even before the costly and luxurious toilet, the high + head-gears of the queen, and also blindman’s buff and descamper, had been + imitated. Every woman now wanted such a simple negligee, such a headdress, + such a feather as Marie Antoinette. As once before, Madame Bertin, the + celebrated milliner of the queen, had been circumvented to furnish a + pattern of the queen’s coiffure, so now all the ladies rushed upon her in + flocks to procure the small caps, fichus, and mantelets, after the queen’s + model. The robes with long trains, the court-dresses of heavy silk, jewels + and gold ornaments, were on a sudden despised; every thing which could add + brilliancy and dignity to the toilet was banished, the greatest simplicity + and nonchalance were now the fashion; every lady strove, if possible, to + resemble a shepherdess of Watteau, and it was soon impossible to + distinguish a duchess from an actress. + </p> + <p> + Not only the ladies but also the gentlemen were carried away by this flood + of novelty. They gave up the boots with red heels, the embroidered + garments, as already before they had given up laces, bandelets, gold + fringes, and diamond buttons on the hats; they put on simple coats of + cloth as the burgher and the man of the people wore; they abandoned their + equipages, with their brilliant armorial trappings and the golden + liveries, and found satisfaction in promenading the streets, with cane in + hand, and with boots instead of buckled shoes. + </p> + <p> + It is true these street promenadings of the nobility were not oftentimes + without inconvenience and molestation. As without the insignia of their + rank and position they mixed with the society of the streets, entered into + taverns and cafes, the people took them for what they seemed to be, for + their equals, and instead of respectfully making way for them, the people + claimed as much attention from them as they themselves were willing to + give. Often enough disputes and scuffles took place between the disguised + nobleman and the man of the people, the laborer, or the commissionnaire, + and at such experiments of hand to hand the victory was not to the + nobleman, but to the fist of the man, of the people. + </p> + <p> + The novelty of such scenes excited the fastidious aristocracy; it became a + sort of passion to mix with the people, to frequent the cabarets, to + strike some bargain at trade, to be the hero of a fist-fight, even if it + ended by the stout workmen throwing down the aristocrats who had despised + them. To be thrown down was no more considered by the nobility as a + disgrace, and they applauded these affrays as once they had applauded + duelling. + </p> + <p> + The aristocracy mixed with the people, adopted their manners and usages, + even much of their mode of thinking, of their democratic opinions, and, by + divesting themselves of their external dignity, of their halo, the + nobility threw down the barrier of separation which stood between them and + the democracy; that respect and esteem which the man of the people had + hitherto maintained toward the nobleman vanished away. + </p> + <p> + The principle of equality, which was to have such fatal consequences for + France, arose from the folly of the aristocracy; and Marie Antoinette was + the one who, with her taste for simplicity, with her opposition to + etiquette and ceremony, had called this principle into life. + </p> + <p> + Not only was the queen imitated in her simplicity, she was also imitated + in her love of comedy. These theatrical amusements of the queen were a + subject of reproach, and yet these private recreations of Marie Antoinette + were the fashion of the day. The taste for theatrical representations made + its way into all classes of society; soon there was no nobleman, no + banker, not even a respectable, well-to-do merchant, who had not in his + house a small theatre, and who, with his family and friends, endeavored + not to emulate on his own narrow stage the manners of the celebrated + actors. + </p> + <p> + Before these days, a nobleman would have considered himself insulted and + dishonored if he had been supposed to have become a comedian, or even to + have assumed a comedian’s garb, were it but in the home-circle. The queen + by her example had now destroyed this prepossession, and it was now so + much bon ton to act a comedy that even men of gravity, even the first + magistrate of Paris, could so much forget the dignity of position as to + commit to memory and even to act some of the parts of a buffoon. + [Footnote: Montjoie, “Histoire de Marie Antoinette, Reine de France.”] + </p> + <p> + It was also soon considered to be highly fashionable to set one’s self + against the prejudice which had been hitherto fostered against actors; + and, whereas the queen took lessons in singing from Garat, the + opera-singer, and even sang duets with her, she threw down the wall of + partition which had hitherto separated the artistes of the stage from good + society. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunate queen, who, with the best qualities of the heart, was + preparing her own ruin; who understood not that the freedom and license + which she herself granted, would soon throw on the roof of the Tuileries + the firebrand which reduced to dust and ashes the throne of the Bourbons!—unfortunate + queen, who in her modesty would so gladly forget her exaltation and her + majesty, and who thereby taught her subjects to make light of majesty and + to despise the throne! + </p> + <p> + She saw not yet the abyss opening under her feet; the flowers of Trianon + hid it from her view! She heard not the distant mutterings of the public + mind, which, like the raging wave of the storm, swelled up nearer and + nearer the throne to crush it one day under the howling thunders of the + unshackled elements of the unloosed rage of the people! + </p> + <p> + The skies, arching over the fragrant blossoms of the charming Trianon, and + over the cottages of the farming queen, were yet serene and cloudless, and + the voice of public opinion was yet drowned in the joyous laughter which + echoed from the cottages of Trianon, or in the sweet harmonies which waved + in the concert-hall, when the queen, with Garat, or with the Baron de + Vaudreuil, the most welcome favorite of the ladies, and the most + accomplished courtier of his day, sang her duets. + </p> + <p> + Repose and peace prevailed yet in Trianon, and the loyal subjects of the + King of France made their pilgrimages to Trianon, there to admire the + idyls of the queen and to watch for the favorable opportunity of espying + the queen, Marie Antoinette, in her rustic costume, with a basket of eggs + on her arm, or the spindle in hand, and to be greeted by her with a + salutation, a friendly word. For Marie Antoinette in Trianon was only the + lady of the mansion, or the farming-lady—so much so, that she had + allowed the very last duties of etiquette, which separated the subject + from the queen, to be abandoned, that even when with her gay company she + was in Trianon, the gates of the park and of the castle were not closed to + visitors, but were opened to any one who had secured from the keeper a + card of admission; the benefit arising from these cards was applied by + order of the queen to the relief of the poor of Versailles. It is true, + one condition of small importance was attached, “by order of the queen,” + to the obtaining of such a card. It was necessary to belong to the + nobility, or to the higher magistracy, so as to be entitled to purchase a + card of admission into the Trianon, and this sole insignificant condition + contained the germ of much evil and of bitter hatred. The merchant, the + spicier, was conscious of a bitter insult in this order, which banished + him from Trianon, which made it impossible for him to satisfy his + curiosity, and to see the queen as a shepherdess, and the king as a + farmer. This order only whetted more and more the hatred and the contempt + for the preferred classes, for the aristocrats, and turned the most + important class of the population, the burgesses, into enemies of the + queen. For it was the queen who had given this order which kept away from + Trianon the tradesmen; it was the queen alone who ruled in Trianon: and, + to vent vengeance on the queen’s order, she was blamed for assuming a + right belonging only to the King of France. Only he, the king, was + entitled to give laws to France, only he could set on the very front of + the law this seal: “DE PAR LE ROI.” + </p> + <p> + And now the queen wanted to assume this privilege. In the castles of + pleasure presented by the king to the queen, in Trianon as well as in St. + Cloud, was seen at the entrance of the gardens a tablet, containing the + regulations under which admission was granted to the public, and these two + tablets began with the formula, “DE PAR LA HEINE!” This unfortunate + expression excited the ill-will and the anger of all France; every one + felt himself injured, every one was satisfied to see therein an attack on + the integrity of the monarchy, on the sovereignty of the king. + </p> + <p> + “It is no more the king alone who enacts laws,” they said, “but the queen + also assumes this right; she makes use of the formalities of the state, + she issues laws without the approbation of the Parliament. The queen wants + to place our king aside and despoil us of our rights, so as to take the + king’s place!” + </p> + <p> + And these complaints, these reproaches became so vehement, so loud, that + their echoes resounded in the chambers of the king, so that even one of + the ministers could make observations to the king on that subject, and + say: “It is certainly immoral and impolitic for a queen of France to own + castles for her own private use” [Footnote: Campan, “Memoires,” vol. i., + p. 274.] + </p> + <p> + The good Louis therefore ventured to speak to his consort on this subject, + and to ask of her to remove this expression which gave so much offence, + and which had so violently excited the public sentiment. + </p> + <p> + But the pure heart of Marie Antoinette rebelled against such a + supposition; her pride was stirred up that she, a queen, the daughter of + the Caesars, should make concession to public opinion; that she should + submit to this imaginary and invisible power, which dared despise her as a + queen, which she recognized not and would not recognize! + </p> + <p> + This power, the public opinion, stood yet behind Marie Antoinette as an + invisible, an unobserved phantom, which soon was to be transformed into a + cruel monster, whose giant hand would pitilessly crush the happiness and + the peace of the queen. + </p> + <p> + The prayers and expostulations of the king were in vain. Marie Antoinette + would not bow to the public sentiment; she would not depart from her + regulations, she would not strike off her “De par la reine” for the sake + of “De par le peuple” + </p> + <p> + “My name is there in its right place,” said she, with a countenance + beaming with resolution and pride; “these gardens and castles are my + property, and I can very well issue orders in them, without interfering + with state rights.” + </p> + <p> + And the “De par la reine” remained on the regulation-tablets in Trianon as + well as in St. Cloud; and the people, who, through birth or through + official position, were not entitled to enter Trianon, came thither at + least to read the tablets of rules at the gate of entrance, and to fill up + their hearts with scorn and contempt, and to utter loud curses against + this presumptuous and daring “De par la reine.” + </p> + <p> + And this woman, whose pride and imperiousness kept away and scorned away + the burgesses from the gates of Trianon, came to Trianon there to rest + from the unbending majesty of her sovereignty, and she herself used to say + to her ladies, with her own enchanting smile, “To forget that she was + queen.” + </p> + <p> + The numberless fairy-tales related about the enchanted castle of the queen + had found their way to Fontainebleau, and had been re-echoed in the quiet, + lonely house where lived the Marquis de Beauharnais and his family. The + marquis, always extremely attentive to procure for his beloved + daughter-in-law some distraction and some recreation, proposed to + Josephine to visit this Trianon, which furnished so much material for + admiration and slander, and to make thither with a few friends a pleasure + excursion. + </p> + <p> + Josephine gladly accepted the invitation; she longed for diversion and + society. Her young, glowing heart had been healed and strengthened after + the deep wound which the ever-beloved husband had inflicted; she had + submitted to her fate; she was a divorced woman, but Parliament had by its + judgment kept her honor free from every shadow; public opinion had + pronounced itself in her favor; the love of her parents, of the father of + him who had so shamefully accused her, so cruelly deserted her, endeavored + to make compensation for what she had lost. Josephine could not trouble, + with her sorrows, with her sad longings of soul, those who so much busied + themselves in cheering her up. She had, therefore, so mastered herself as + to appear content, as to dry here tears; and her youth, the freshness and + elasticity of her mind, had come to the help of her efforts. She had at + first smiled through effort, she soon did it from the force of youthful + pleasure; she had at first repressed her tears by the power of her will, + soon her tears were dried up and her eyes irradiated again the fire of + youth and hope, of the hope once more to win her husband’s heart, to + return her two graceful and beloved children to their father, whom their + youth needed, for whom every evening she raised to the God of love the + prayers which their mother with low, trembling voice and tears in her eyes + made them say after her. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, then, in company with her aunt Madame de Renaudin and with her + father-in-law the Marquis de Beauharnais, undertook this + pleasure-excursion to Trianon. The sight of these glorious parks, these + gardens so artistically laid out, charmed her and filled her with the + sweet reminiscences of the loved home, of the beautiful gardens in + Martinique, which she herself with her slaves had cultivated, in which she + had planted those beautiful flowers whose liveliness of color and whose + fragrance of blossom were here in hot-houses so much praised. The love of + plants and flowers had ever remained fresh amid the storms and sorrows + which in the last years had passed over her heart, and oftentimes she had + sought in the study of botany forgetfulness and refreshment. With a + vivacity and a joyfulness such as had not been seen in her for a long + time, Josephine wandered about this beautiful park, these hot-houses and + gardens, and, transported with joy and admiration, she exclaimed: “Oh, how + happy must the queen be to call this paradise her own!” + </p> + <p> + The sound of approaching voices interrupted her in her observations and in + her admiration, which, perchance, was not entirely free from envy. Through + the foliage of the trees was seen a large company approaching the queen’s + farm-house, before which stood Josephine with her escort. At the curve of + the path near the grove where Josephine stood, appeared a woman. A white + muslin dress, not expanded by the stiff, ceremonious hoop-petticoat, but + falling down in ample folds, wrapped up her tall, noble figure, a small + lace kerchief covered the beautiful neck, and in part the splendid + shoulders. The deep-blond unpowdered hair hung in heavy, curly locks on + either side of the rosy cheeks; the head was covered with a large, round + straw hat, adorned with long, streaming silk ribbons; on the arm, partly + covered with a black knit glove, hung an ornamented woven basket, which + was completely filled with eggs. + </p> + <p> + “The queen!” murmured Josephine, trembling within herself, and, frightened + at this unexpected meeting, she wanted to withdraw behind the grove, in + the hope of being unnoticed by the farmer’s wife passing by. + </p> + <p> + But Marie Antoinette had already seen her, and on her beautiful, smiling + countenance was not for a moment expressed either surprise or concern at + this unexpected meeting with uninvited strangers. She was so accustomed to + see curiosity-seekers in her lovely Trianon, and to meet them, disturbed + not in the least her unaffected serenity. A moment only she stood still, + to allow her followers, the Duchesses de Polignac, the Princess de + Lamballe, and the two Counts de Coigny, to draw near; then lightly and + smilingly she walked toward the house near which Josephine bewildered and + blushing stood, whilst the marquis bowed profoundly and reverentially. + </p> + <p> + The queen, who was about to pass by and enter into the house, stood still. + Her large dark-blue eye was for a moment fixed with questioning expression + upon Josephine, then a smile illumined her beautiful countenance. She had + recognized the Viscountess de Beauharnais, though she had seen her only + twice. Although, through her husband’s rank and station, Josephine was + entitled to appear at court, yet she had always, with all the retreating + anxiety of inexperienced youth, endeavored to evade the solemnity of an + official presentation. The young, lively, unaffected Creole had cherished + an invincible horror for the stiff court-etiquette, for the ceremonial + court-dress of gold brocade, with the court-mantle strictly embroidered + after the established pattern, and which terminated in a long, heavy + train, for the majestic head-gear of feathers, flowers, laces, and veils, + all towering up nearly a yard high, and, above all things, for those rules + and laws which regulated and fixed every word, every step, every movement, + at a solemn presentation at court. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette had had compassion on the timidity of the young Creole, + and to spare her the solemnity of a rigid presentation had twice received + at a private audience the young Viscountess de Beauharnais, and had then + received also her homage. [Footnote: Le Normand, “Histoire de + l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 97.] + </p> + <p> + The youthful, charming appearance of Josephine, her peculiar and at the + same time ingenuous and graceful attitude, had not been without impression + on the queen; and with the most sympathizing interest, she had heard of + the sad disturbances which had clouded the matrimonial happiness of the + young Creole. + </p> + <p> + No longer, as before, had Marie Antoinette requested the Viscount de + Beauharnais, the beautiful dancer of Versailles, to dance with her; and + when Parliament had given its sentence, and openly and solemnly had + proclaimed the innocency of Josephine, the accused wife, the queen also + had loudly expressed her satisfaction at this judgment, and the Viscount + de Beauharnais was no more invited to the court festivities. + </p> + <p> + About to enter into the house, the queen had recognized the young + viscountess, and with a friendly movement of the head she beckoned her to + approach, welcomed the marquis, whom her short-sightedness had not at once + recognized, to her beloved Trianon, and she requested them both to visit + her little kingdom as often as they would wish, and to examine every thing + attentively. + </p> + <p> + In the goodness and generosity of her heart, the queen gladly desired to + make amends to the young, timid woman, who, embarrassed and blushing, + stood before her, for the sufferings she had endured, for the disgrace + under which she had had to bow her head; she wanted to give the accused + innocent one a reparation of honor such as Parliament and public sentiment + had already done. + </p> + <p> + She was consequently all goodness, all condescension, all confidence; she + spoke to Josephine, not as a queen to her favored subjects, but as a young + woman to a young woman, as to her equal. With sympathetic friendliness she + made inquiries concerning the welfare of the viscountess and her family; + she invited her to come often to Trianon, and, with a flattering allusion + to the vast knowledge of the viscountess in botany, she asked her if she + was satisfied with the arrangements of garden and hot-houses. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, with the sensitiveness and fine tact natural to her, felt that + the trivial flattery of a courtier would but be a wretched and + inappropriate return for so much goodness and loving-kindness; she felt + that frankness and truth were the thanks due to the queen’s + large-heartedness. + </p> + <p> + She therefore answered the queen’s questions with impartial sincerity, + and, encouraged by the kindness of the queen, she openly and clearly gave + her opinion concerning the arrangement of the hot-houses, and drew the + attention of the queen to some precious and choice plants which she had + noticed in the hot-houses. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette listened to her with lively interest, and at parting + extended to her in a friendly manner her beautiful hand. + </p> + <p> + “Come soon again, viscountess,” said she, with that beautiful smile which + ever won her true hearts; “you are worthy to enjoy the beauty of my + beloved Trianon, for you have eyes and sense for the beautiful. Examine + everything closely, and when we see one another again, tell me what you + have observed and what has pleased you. It will ever be a pleasure to see + you.” [Footnote: The very words of the queen.—See Le Normand, + “Histoire,” &c., vol. i., p. 135.] + </p> + <p> + But Josephine was no more to see the beautiful queen, so worthy of + compassion; and these kind words which Marie Antoinette had spoken to her + were the last which Josephine was ever to hear from her lips. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this visit to Trianon, Josephine received from her + parents in Martinique letters which had for their object to persuade her + with the tenderness of love, with all the reasons of wisdom, to return to + her home, to the house of her parents, to withdraw with bold resolution + from all the inconveniences and humiliations of her precarious and + dangerous situation, and, instead of living in humble solitude as a + divorced, despised woman, sooner to come to Martinique, and there in her + parents’ home be again the beloved and welcomed daughter. + </p> + <p> + Josephine hesitated still. She could not come to the resolution of + abandoning the hope of a reunion with Alexandre de Beauharnais; she dreamt + yet of the happiness of seeing the beloved wanderer return to his wife, to + his children. + </p> + <p> + But her aunt and her father-in-law knew better than she that there was no + prospect of such an event; they knew that the viscount was still the + impassioned lover of the beautiful Madame de Gisard; that she held him too + tightly in her web to look for a possibility of his returning to his + legitimate affection. + </p> + <p> + If any thing could rouse him from this love-spell, and bring him back to + duty and reason, it would be that sudden, unexpected departure; it would + be the conviction which would necessarily be impressed upon him, that + Josephine desired to be forever separated from him; that she was conscious + of being divorced from him forever, and that, in the pride of her insulted + womanhood, she wished to withdraw herself and her daughter from his + approaches, and from the scandal which his passion for Madame de Gisard + was giving. + </p> + <p> + Such were the reasons with which her relatives, even the grandfather of + her two children, sought to persuade her to a voyage to Martinique—bitter + though the anguish would be for them to be deprived of the presence of the + gentle, lovely young woman, whose youthful freshness and grace had like + sunshine cheered the lonely house in Fontainebleau; to see also part from + them the little Hortense, whose joyous voice of childhood had now and then + recalled the faithless son to the father’s house, and which was still a + bond which united Josephine with her husband and with his family. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had to give way before these arguments, however much her heart + bled. She had long felt how much of impropriety and of danger there was in + the situation of a young woman divorced from her husband, and how much + more dignified and expedient it would be for her to return to her father’s + home and to the bosom of her family. She therefore took a decided + resolution; she tore herself away from her relatives, from her beloved + son, whom she could not take with her, for he belonged to the father. With + a stream of painful tears she bade farewell to the love of youth, to the + joys of youth, from which naught remained but the wounds of a despised + heart, and the children who gazed at her with the beloved eyes of their + father. + </p> + <p> + In the month of July of the year 1788, Josephine, with her little + five-year-old daughter Hortense, left Fontainebleau, went to Havre, whence + she embarked for Martinique. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. LIEUTENANT NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + </h2> + <p> + While the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais was, during long years of + resignation, enduring all the anguish, humiliations, and agonies of an + unhappy marriage, the first pain and sorrow had also clouded the days of + the young Corsican boy who, in the same year as Josephine, had embarked + from his native land for France. + </p> + <p> + In the beginning of the year 1785, Napoleon Bonaparte had lost his father. + In Montpellier, whither he had come for the cure of his diseased breast, + he died, away from home, from his Letitia and his children. Only his + eldest son Joseph stood near his dying couch, and, moreover, a fortunate + accident had brought to pass that the poor, lonely sufferer should meet + there a friendly home, where he was received with the most considerate + affection. Letitia’s companion of youth, the beautiful Panonia Comnene, + now Madame de Permont, resided in Montpellier with her husband, who was + settled there, and with all the faithfulness and friendship of a Corsican, + she nursed the sick husband of her Letitia. + </p> + <p> + But neither the skill of the renowned physicians of Montpellier, nor the + tender care of friends, nor the tears of the son, could keep alive the + unfortunate Charles de Bonaparte. For three days long he struggled with + death; for three days long his youth, his manhood’s powers, resisted the + mighty foe, which already held him in its chains; then he had to submit to + the conqueror. Exhausted with death’s pallor, Charles de Bonaparte sank + back on his couch, and as Death threw his dark shadows on his face bathed + in cold perspiration, Charles de Bonaparte, with stammering tongue, in the + last paroxysms of fancy, exclaimed: “It is in vain! Nothing can save me! + Even Napoleon’s sword, which one day is to triumph over all Europe, even + that sword cannot frighten away the dragon of death which crouches on my + breast!” [Footnote: See “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 29.] + </p> + <p> + Wonderful vision of a dying man! The dimmed eye of the dying father saw + his son Napoleon’s sword, “which one day was to triumph over all Europe;” + as he prophesied its power, he sighed at the same time over the impotency + which holds all mankind in its bands, and leaves even the hero as a + powerless child in the hands of fate. The sword which was to be a yoke to + all Europe could not terrify from the breast of his father the dragon of + death! + </p> + <p> + Napoleon received the news of his father’s decease whilst at the military + school of Paris, where he had been placed for the last six months, to the + joy and satisfaction of his teachers as well as to that of his schoolmates + in Brienne. For the reserved, taciturn, proud boy, who, rugged and blunt, + stood aloof from his comrades, who even dared speak rude and bitter words + against his teachers and against the whole military institution at + Brienne, was oftentimes an inconvenience and a burden as well to teachers + as to schoolmates; and all felt relieved, as from a depressing weight, + when they no more feared the naming eyes of the boy who observed every + thing, who criticised every thing, and passed judgment upon every thing. + </p> + <p> + But if he was not loved, it was impossible to refuse esteem to his + capacity, to his desire for learning; and the testimony which Monsieur de + Heralio, the principal of the institution of Brienne, sent with the young + Napoleon to Paris, was a tribute of respect and an acknowledgment of + merit. He portrayed him “as having an extremely capacious head, especially + skilled in mathematics, and of great powers and talents.” As to his + character, one of the professors of the institution had in the testimonial + written the remark: “A Corsican by birth and character. He will do great + things, if circumstances are favorable.” + </p> + <p> + But circumstances did not appear favorable, but contrariwise seemed to bo + roused in enmity against the poor Corsican boy. He had been scarcely half + a year in Paris when he lost his father, and this grief, of which not a + murmur escaped, which he kept within, devouring his heart, as every thing + else which affected him, made his existence still more reserved, still + more retired, and isolated him more and more. Moreover, death had not only + taken away the father, but also the support which Napoleon received from + him. The means of the Bonaparte family were very meagre, and barely + sufficed to the support of Signora Letitia and her seven children. + Napoleon could not and dared not require or accept any help from his + mother, on whom and on his brother Joseph it became incumbent to educate + and support the young family. He had to be satisfied to live upon the + bounty which the royal treasury furnished to the young men at the military + school. + </p> + <p> + But these limited means were to the ambitious boy a source of humiliation + and pain. The majority of his comrades consisted of young aristocrats, + who, provided with ample means, led a gay, luxurious, dissipated life, had + horses, servants, equipages, kept up one with another expensive + dinner-parties and dejeuners, and seized every opportunity to organize a + festivity or a pleasure-party. Every departure, every admission of a + scholar, was celebrated with brilliant display; every birthday furnished + the opportunity of a feast, and every holiday became the welcomed occasion + for a pleasure excursion which the young men on horseback, and followed by + their servants in livery, made in the vicinity of Paris. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon could take no part in all these feastings and dissipations; and + as his proud heart could not acknowledge his poverty, he put on the mask + of a stoic, who, with contemptuous disregard, cast away vain pleasures and + amusements, and scorned those who with unrestrained zest abandoned + themselves to them. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely been half a year in the military school when he gave loud + expression to his jealousy and envy; the young Napoleon, nearly sixteen + years old, undertook boldly to censure in the very presence of the + teachers the regulations of the institution. In a memorial which he had + composed, and which he presented to the second director of the + establishment, M. Berton, he gave utterance to his own views in the most + energetic and daring manner, imposing upon the professors the duty of + making a complete change in the institution; of limiting the number of + servants, so that the military pupils might learn to wait upon themselves; + of simplifying the noonday meal, so as to accustom them to moderation; of + forbidding banquets, dejeuners, and pleasure-excursions, so that they + might not become inured to a frivolous, extravagant mode of life. + </p> + <p> + This mask of a censuring stoic, which he put on in the presence of + teachers and school-mates, he retained also with his few friends. Madame + de Permont, a short time after the death of Napoleon’s father, came with + her family to Paris, where her husband had obtained an important and + lucrative office; her son Albert attended the military school and was soon + the friend of Napoleon, as much as a friendship could be formed between + the young, lively M. de Permont, the son of wealthy and distinguished + parents, and the reserved, proud Napoleon Bonaparte, the son of a poor, + lonely widow. + </p> + <p> + However, Napoleon this time acquiesced in the wishes of his true friend, + and condescended to pass his holidays with Albert in the house of Madame + de Permont, the friend of his mother; and oftentimes his whole countenance + would brighten into a smile, when speaking with her of the distant home, + of the mother, and of the family. But as many times also that countenance + would darken when, gazing round, he tacitly compared this costly, + tastefully decorated mansion with the poor and sparingly furnished house + in which his noble and beautiful mother lived with her six orphans, and + who in her household duties had to wait upon herself; when again he + noticed with what solicitude and love Madame de Permont had her children + educated by masters from the court, by governesses and by teachers at + enormous salaries, whilst her friend Letitia had to content herself with + the very deficient institutions of learning to be found in Corsica, + because her means were not sufficient to bring to Paris, to the + educational establishment of St. Cyr, her young daughters, like the + parents of the beautiful Pauline. + </p> + <p> + The young Napoleon hated luxury, because he himself had not the means of + procuring it; he spoke contemptuously of servants, for his position + allowed him not to maintain them; he spoke against the expensive noonday + meal, because he had to be content with less; he scorned the amusements of + his school-mates, because, when they arranged their picnics and + festivities, his purse allowed him not to take a part in them. + </p> + <p> + One day in the military school, as one of the teachers was to bid it + farewell, the scholars organized a festivity, toward which each of them + was to contribute a tolerably large sum. It was perhaps not all accident + that precisely on that day M. de Permont, the father of Albert, came to + the military school to visit his son, and Napoleon, his son’s friend. + </p> + <p> + He found all the scholars in joyous excitement and motion; his son Albert + was, like the rest, intently busy with the preparations of the feast, + which was to take place in the garden, and to end in a great display of + fireworks. All faces beamed with delight, all eyes were illumined, and the + whole park re-echoed with jubilant cries and joyous laughter. + </p> + <p> + But Napoleon Bonaparte was not among the gay company. M. de Permont found + him in a remote, lonesome path. He was walking up and down with head bent + low, his hands folded behind his back; as he saw M. de Permont, his face + became paler and gloomier, and a look nearly scornful met the unwelcomed + disturber. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” said M. de Permont, with a friendly smile, “I come to + bring you the small sum which you need to enable you to take a part in the + festivity. Here it is; take it, I pray you.” + </p> + <p> + But Napoleon, with a vehement movement of the hand, waved back the offered + money, a burning redness for a moment covered his face, then his cheeks + assumed that yellowish whiteness which in the child had always indicated a + violent emotion. + </p> + <p> + “No,” cried he, vehemently, “no, I have nothing to do with this + meaningless festivity. I thank you—I receive no alms.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Permont gazed with emotions of sympathizing sorrow in the pale face + of the poor young man for whom poverty was preparing so many griefs, and + in the generosity of his heart he had recourse to a falsehood. + </p> + <p> + “This is no alms I offer you, Napoleon,” said he, gently, “but this money + belongs to you, it comes from your father. At his dying hour he confided + to me a small sum of money, with the express charge to keep it for you and + to give you a portion of it in pressing circumstances, when your personal + honor required it. I therefore bring you to-day the fourth part of this + sum, and retain the rest for another pressing occasion.” + </p> + <p> + With a penetrating, searching look. Napoleon gazed into the face of the + speaker, and the slight motions of a sarcastic smile played for an instant + around his thin, compressed lips. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said he, after a pause, “since this money comes from my + father, I can use it; but had you simply wished to lend it to me, I could + not have received it. My mother has already too much responsibility and + care; I cannot increase them by an outlay, especially when such an outlay + is imposed upon me by the sheer folly of my schoolmates.” [Footnote: + Napoleon’s words.—See “Memoires de la Duchesse d’Abrantes,” vol. i., + p. 81.] + </p> + <p> + He then took the offered sum for which, as he thought, he was indebted to + no man, and hastened to pay his contribution to the festivity. But, in + respect to his principles, he took no part in the festivity, but declaimed + all the louder, and in a more biting tone, against the criminal + propensities for pleasure in the young men who, instead of turning their + attention to their studies, lavished away their precious time in + dissipation and frivolities. + </p> + <p> + These anxieties and humiliations of poverty Napoleon had doubly to endure, + not only for himself, but also for his sister Marianne (who afterward + called herself Elise). She had been, as already said, at her father’s + intercession and application, received in the royal educational institute + of St. Cyr, and there enjoyed the solid and brilliant education of the + pupils of the king. But the spirit of luxury and the desire for pleasure + had also penetrated into this institution, founded by the pious and + high-minded Madame de Maintenon, and the young ladies of St. Cyr had among + themselves picnics and festivals, as well as the young men of the military + school. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, whose means, as long as he was in Brienne, never allowed him to + visit his beloved sister at St. Cyr, had now frequent opportunities of + seeing her, for Madame de Permont, in her royal friendship to the + Bonaparte family, took as lively an interest in the daughter as in the son + of her friend Letitia, and often drove to St. Cyr to visit the young and + beautiful Marianne. + </p> + <p> + A few days after the festival in the military school, a short vacation had + followed, and Napoleon passed it with his friend Albert in the house of + the family of Permont. To please young Napoleon, it was decided to go to + St. Cyr, and the glowing cheeks and the lively manner with which Napoleon, + during the journey, conversed with M. and Madame de Permont, proved what + satisfaction he anticipated in meeting his sister. + </p> + <p> + But Marianne Bonaparte did not seem to share this satisfaction. With + downcast countenance and sad mien she entered the reception-room and + saluted M. and Madame Permont, and even her brother, with a gloomy, + despairing look. As she was questioned about the cause of her sadness, she + broke into tears, and threw herself with vehement emotion into the arms of + Madame de Permont. + </p> + <p> + Vain were the prayers and expostulations of her mother’s friend to have + her reveal the cause of her sadness. Marianne only shook her head in a + negative manner, and ever a fresh flow of tears started from her eyes, but + she remained silent. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, who at first, pale and silent, had looked on this outbreak of + sorrow, now excitedly approached his sister, and, laying his hand upon her + arm, said in angry tones: “Since you cry, you must also confess the cause + of your tears, or else we are afraid that you weep over some wrong of + which you are guilty. But woe to you if it is so! I am here in the name of + our father, and I will be without pity!” [Footnote: “Memoires de la + Duehesse d’Abrantes.”] + </p> + <p> + Marianne trembled, and cast a timid, anxious look upon her young brother, + whose voice had assumed such a peculiar, imperious expression—whose + eyes shone with the expression of a proud, angry master. + </p> + <p> + “I am in no wise guilty, my brother,” murmured she, “and yet I am sad and + unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + And blushing, trembling, with broken words, interrupted by tears and + sighs, Marianne related that next day, a farewell festival was to take + place in the institution in honor of one of the pupils about to leave. The + whole class was taking a part in it, and each of the young ladies had + already paid her contribution. + </p> + <p> + “But I only am not able,” exclaimed Marianne, with a loud burst of + anguish, “I have but six francs; if I give them, nothing is left me, and + my pension is not paid until six weeks. But even were I to give all I + have, my miserable six francs would not be enough.” + </p> + <p> + Very unwillingly indeed had Napoleon, whilst Marianne thus spoke, put his + hand into his pocket, as if to draw out the money which his sorrowing + sister needed, but remembering his own poverty, his hand dropped at his + side; a deep glow of anger overspread his cheeks, and wildly stamping down + with the foot he turned away and walked to the window, perhaps to allow + none to notice the nervous agitation of his countenance and his tears of + vexation and shame. + </p> + <p> + But what Napoleon could not do, that did Madame de Permont. She gave to + the weeping young girl the twelve francs she needed to take a part in the + festivity, and Marianne, less proud and less disdainful than her brother, + accepted gladly, without opposition and without the need of a falsehood, + the little sum offered. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon allowed this to take place without contradiction, and hindered + not his sister to receive from Madame de Permont the alms which he himself + had so arrogantly refused. + </p> + <p> + But they had barely left the reception-room and entered the carriage, than + his suffering heart burst into a sarcastic philippic against the + contemptible administration of such royal establishments as St. Cyr and + the military school. + </p> + <p> + M. de Permont, who had at first patiently and with a smile listened to + these raving invectives, felt himself at last wounded by them; and the + supercilious and presumptuous manner in which the young man of barely + seventeen years spoke of the highest offices of the state, and of the king + himself, excited his anger. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Napoleon!” said he, reluctantly. “It does not beseem you, who are + educated upon the king’s bounty, to speak thus.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon shrank within himself as if he had been bitten by a serpent, and + a deadly pallor overspread his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “I am not the pupil of the king, but of the state!” exclaimed he, in a + boisterous voice, trembling with passion. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that is indeed a fine distinction which you have made there, + Napoleon,” said M. de Permont, laughing. “It is all the same whether you + are the pupil of the state or of the king; moreover, is not the king the + state also? However it may be, it beseems you not to speak of your + benefactor in such inappropriate terms.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon concentrated all his efforts into self-control, and mastered + himself into a grave, quiet countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I will be silent,” said he, with an appearance of composure; “I will no + more say what might excite your displeasure. Only allow me to say, were I + master here, had I to decide upon the regulations of these institutions, I + would have them very different, and for the good of all.” + </p> + <p> + “Were I master here!” The pupil of the military school, for whom poverty + was preparing so much humiliation, who had just now experienced a fresh + humiliation through his sister in the reception-room of St. Cyr, was + already thinking what he would do were he the ruler of France; and, + strange enough, these words seemed natural to his lips, and no one thought + of sneering or laughing at him when he thus spoke. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile his harsh and repulsive behavior, his constant fault-finding and + censoriousness were by no means conducive to the friendship and affection + of those around him; he was a burden to all, he was an inconvenience to + all; and the teachers as well as the pupils of the military school were + all anxious to get rid of his presence. + </p> + <p> + As nothing else could be said to his reproach; as there was no denying his + assiduity, his capacities, and progress, there was but one means of + removing him from the institution—he had to be promoted. It was + necessary to recognize the young pupil of the military school as competent + to enter into the practical, active military service; it was necessary to + make a lieutenant out of the pupil. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had one year passed since Napoleon had been received into the + military school of Paris, when he was nominated by the authorities of the + school for a vacancy in the rank of lieutenant, and he was promoted to it + in the artillery regiment of La Fere, then stationed at Valence. + </p> + <p> + In the year 1786 Napoleon left the military school to serve his country + and his king as second lieutenant, and to take the oath of allegiance. + </p> + <p> + Radiant with happiness and joy, proud alike of his promotion and of his + uniform, the young lieutenant went to the house of M. de Permont to show + himself to his friends in his new dignity and in his new splendors, and, + at their invitation, to pass a few days in their house before leaving for + Valence. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! his appearance realized not the wished-for result. As he + entered the saloon of Madame de Permont the whole family was gathered + there, and at the sight of Napoleon the two daughters, girls of six and + thirteen years, broke out into loud laughter. None are more alive than + children to the impression of what is ridiculous, and there was indeed in + the appearance of the young lieutenant something which well might excite + the laughing propensities of the lively little maidens. The uniform + appeared much too long and wide for the little meagre figure of Napoleon, + and his slender legs vanished in boots of such height and breadth that he + seemed more to swim than to walk with them. + </p> + <p> + These boots especially had excited the laughter of the little maidens; and + at every step which Napoleon, embarrassed as he was by the terrible + cannon-boots, made forward, the laughter only increased, so that the + expostulations and reproaches of Madame de Permont could not procure + silence. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, who had entered the drawing-room with a face radiant with joy, + felt wounded by the children’s joyousness at his own cost. To be the + subject of scorn or sarcasm was then, as it was afterward, entirely + unbearable to him, and when he himself also tried to jest he knew not how + to receive the jests directed at him. After having saluted M. and Madame + de Permont, Napoleon turned to the eldest daughter Cecilia, who, a few + days before, had come from the boarding-school to remain a short time at + home, and who, laughing, had placed herself right before monsieur the + lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + “I find your laughter very silly and childish,” said he, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + The young maid, however, continued to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “M. Lieutenant,” said she, “since you carry such a mighty sword, you no + doubt wish to carry it as a lady’s knight, and therefore you must consider + it an honor when ladies jest with you.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon gave a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “It is evident,” said he, scornfully, “that you are but a little + school-girl.” + </p> + <p> + These sarcastic words wounded the vanity of the young maiden, and brought + a glow of anger on her face. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes,” cries she, angrily, “I am a school-girl, but you—you + are nothing else than a puss in boots!” + </p> + <p> + A general laugh followed; even Madame de Permont, ordinarily so good and + so considerate, could not suppress laughter. The witty words of the little + school-girl were too keen and too applicable that she should be subjected + to reproach. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon’s wrath was indescribable. His visage was overspread with a + yellow-greenish pallor, his lips were contracted nervously, and already + opened for a word of anger. But he suppressed that word with an effort; + for though not yet familiar with all the forms and usages of society, his + fine tact and the instinct of what was becoming told him that when the + conversation ran into personalities the best plan was to be silent, and + that he must not return personal remarks, since his opponent was one of + the fair sex. He therefore remained silent, and so controlled himself as + to join in the general laughter and to show himself heartily amused at the + unfortunate nickname of the little Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + And that every one might be convinced how much he himself had been amused + at this little scene, he brought, a few days afterward, to the youngest + daughter of Madame de Permont, a charming little toy which he had had made + purposely for her. This toy consisted of a small gilt and + richly-ornamented carriage of papier-mache, before which leaped along a + very lovely puss in boots. + </p> + <p> + To this present for the little Lolotte (afterward Duchess d’Abrantes), was + added for Cecilia an elegant and interesting edition of the tales of “Puss + in Boots,” and when Napoleon politely presented it to the young maid he + begged her to receive kindly this small souvenir from him. + </p> + <p> + “That is too much,” said Madame de Permont, shaking her head. “The toy for + Loulou would have been quite enough. But this present to Cecilia shows + that you took her jest in earnest, and were hurt by it.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, however, affirmed that he had not taken the jest in earnest, + that he had been no wise hurt by it; that he himself when he put on his + uniform had to laugh at the nickname of “puss in boots” which dear Cecilia + had given him. + </p> + <p> + He had, however, endeavored no more to deserve this nickname, and the + unlucky boots were replaced by much smaller and closer-fitting ones. + </p> + <p> + A few days after this little incident the young second lieutenant left + Paris and went to meet his regiment La Fere at Valence. + </p> + <p> + A life of labor and study, of hopes and dreams, now began for the young + lieutenant. He gave himself up entirely to his military service, and + pursued earnest, scientific studies in regard to it. Mathematics, the + science of war, geometry, and finally politics, were the objects of his + zeal; but alongside of these he read and studied earnestly the works of + Voltaire, Corneille, Racine, Montaigne, the Abbe Raynal, and, above all, + the works of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose passionate and enthusiastic + disciple Napoleon Bonaparte was at that time. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi + Joseph,” vol. i., p. 33.] + </p> + <p> + Amid so many grave occupations of the mind it would seem that the heart + with all its claims had to remain in the background. The smiling boy + Cupid, with his gracious raillery and his smarting griefs, seemed to make + no impression on that pale, grave, and taciturn artillery lieutenant, and + not to dare shoot an arrow toward that bosom which had mailed itself in an + impenetrable cuirass of misanthropy, stoicism, and learning. + </p> + <p> + But yet between the links of this coat-of-mail an arrow must have glided, + for the young lieutenant suddenly became conscious that there in his bosom + a heart did beat, and that it was going in the midst of his studies to + interrupt his dreams of misanthropy. Yes, it had come to this, that he + abandoned his study to pay his court to a young lady, that at her side he + lost his gravity of mien, his gloomy taciturnity, and became joyous, + talkative, and merry, as beseemed a young man of his age. + </p> + <p> + The young lady who exercised so powerful an influence upon the young + Bonaparte was the daughter of the commanding officer at Valence, M. de + Colombier. He loved her, but his lips were yet too timid to confess it, + and of what need were words to these young people to understand one + another and to know what the one felt for the other? + </p> + <p> + In the morning they took long walks through the beautiful park; they spoke + one to another of their childhood, of their brothers and sisters, and when + the young maid with tears in her eyes listened to the descriptions which + Napoleon made to her of his country, of his father’s house, and, above all + things, of his mother—when she with animation and enthusiasm + declared that Letitia was a heroine greater than whom antiquity had never + seen, then Napoleon would take her two hands in his and thank her with + tremulous voice for the love which she consecrated to his noble mother. + </p> + <p> + If in the morning they had to separate, as an indemnification an evening + walk in the light of the moon was agreed upon, and the young maid promised + heroically to come without uncertainty, however imperative was her + mother’s prohibition. And truly, when her mother was asleep, she glided + down into the park, and Napoleon welcomed her with a happy smile, and arm + in arm, happy as children, they wandered through the paths, laughing at + their own shadows, which the light of the moon in wondrous distortion made + to dance before them. They entered into a small bower, which stood in the + shadow of trees, and there the young Napoleon had prepared for the young + maid a very pleasing surprise. There on the table was a basket full of her + favorite fruit—full of the sweetest, finest cherries. Louise thanked + her young lover with a hand-pressure for the tender attention, but she + declared that she would touch none of the cherries unless Napoleon enjoyed + them with her, and to please his beloved he had to obey. + </p> + <p> + They sat down on the seat before the bower and enjoyed the golden light of + the moon, the night air amid the lime-trees, the joy of being thus + secretly together, and with infinite delight they ate of the sweet juicy + cherries. But when the last cherry was eaten, the moon became darkened, a + rude night breeze shook the trees, and made the young maid tremble with + cold. She must not remain from home any longer, she must not expose + herself to the dangerous night air; thus argued the considerate tenderness + of the young lieutenant, and, kissing her hand, he bade farewell to + Louise, and watched until the tender ethereal figure had vanished behind + the little door which led from the park into the house. [Footnote: + “Memorial de St. Helene,” p. 30.] + </p> + <p> + The sweet idyl of his first love had, however, come to a sudden and + unexpected end. The young Second-Lieutenant Bonaparte was ordered to Lyons + with his regiment, and the first innocent romance of his heart was ended. + </p> + <p> + But he never forgot the young maid, whom he then had so tenderly loved, + and in the later days of his grandeur he remembered her, and when he + learned that she had lost her husband, a M. de Bracieux, and lived in very + depressing circumstances, he appointed her maid of honor to his sister + Elise, and secured her a very handsome competency. + </p> + <p> + The dream of his first love had been dreamed away; and, perhaps to forget + it, Napoleon again in Lyons gave himself up with deepest earnestness to + study. The Academy of Sciences in Lyons had offered a prize for the answer + to the question: “What are the sentiments and emotions which are to be + instilled into men, so as to make them happy?” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon entered the lists for this prize, and, if his work did not + receive the prize, it furnished the occasion for the Abbe Raynal, who had + answered the question successfully, to become acquainted with the young + author, and to encourage him to persevere in his literary pursuits, for + which he had exhibited so much talent. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon then, with all the fire of his soul, began a new work, the + history of the revolutions in Corsica; and, in order to make accurate + researches in the archives of Ajaccio, he obtained leave of absence to go + thither. In the year 1788, Napoleon returned to his native isle to his + mother, to his brothers and sisters, all of whom he had not seen for nine + years, and was welcomed by them with the tenderest affection. + </p> + <p> + But the joys of the family could draw away the young man but little from + his studies and researches; and, however much he loved his mother, + brothers and sisters, now much grown up, yet he preferred being alone with + his elder brother Joseph, making long walks with him, and in solemn + exchange of thoughts and sentiments, communicating to him his studies, his + hopes, his dreams for the future. + </p> + <p> + To acquire distinction, fame, reputation with the actual world, and + immortality with the future—such was the object on which all the + wishes, all the hopes of Napoleon were concentrated; and in long hours of + conversation with Joseph he spoke of the lofty glory to carve out an + immortal name, to accomplish deeds before which admiring posterity would + bow. + </p> + <p> + Did Napoleon then think of purchasing for himself an immortal name as + writer, as historian? At least he studied very earnestly the archives of + Ajaccio, and sent a preliminary essay of his history of the revolutions of + Corsica to Raynal for examination. This renowned savant of his day warmly + congratulated the young author on his work, and asked him to send a copy + that he might show it to Mirabeau. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon complied with these wishes; and when, a few weeks after, he + received a letter from Raynal, after reading it, he, with radiant eyes and + a bright smile, handed it to his brother Joseph. + </p> + <p> + In this letter of Raynal were found these words: “Monsieur de Mirabeau has + in this little essay found traits which announce a genius of the first + rank. He entreats the young author to come to him in Paris.” [Footnote: + “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 33.] + </p> + <p> + But the young author could not at once obey the call of the Count de + Mirabeau. A sad family bereavement delayed him at the time in Corsica. The + brother of his grandfather, the aged Archdeacon Lucian, the faithful + counsellor and friend of Letitia and of her young family, was seized with + a mortal disease; the gout, which for years had tormented him, was now to + give him the fatal blow, and the whole family of the Bonapartes was called + to the bedside of the old man to receive his parting words. + </p> + <p> + Weeping, they all stood around his couch; weeping, Letitia bent over the + aged man, whose countenance was already signed with the hand of death. + Around kneeled the younger children of Letitia, for their great-uncle had + long been to them a kind father and protector; and on the other side of + the couch, facing Letitia and her brother, the Abbe Fesch, stood Joseph + and Napoleon, gazing with sad looks on their uncle. + </p> + <p> + His large, already obscured eyes wandered with a deep, searching glance + upon all the members of the Bonaparte family, and then at last remained + fixed with a wondrous brilliancy of expression on the pale, grave face of + Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, the Abbe Fesch, with a voice trembling with emotion and + full of holy zeal, began to intone the prayers for the dead. But the old + priest ordered him with a voice full of impatience to be silent. + </p> + <p> + “I have prayed long enough in my life,” said he; “I have now but a few + moments to live, and I must give them to my family.” + </p> + <p> + The loud sobbings of Letitia and of her children interrupted him, and + called forth a last genial smile upon the already stiffening features. + </p> + <p> + “Letitia,” said he, in a loud, friendly tone, “Letitia, cease to shed + tears; I die happy, for I see you surrounded by all your children. My life + is no longer necessary to the children of my dear Charles; I can therefore + die. Joseph is at the head of the administration of the country, and he + will know how to take care of what belongs to his family. You, Napoleon,” + continued he, with a louder voice, “you will be a great and exalted man.” + [Footnote: “Tu poi. Napoleon, serai unomone” such were the words of the + dying man, assures us King Joseph in his memoirs; whilst Las Casas, in his + memorial of St. Helena, makes Napoleon relate that his uncle had told him, + “You, Napoleon, will be the head of the family.”] + </p> + <p> + His eyes turned on Napoleon, he sank back on the cushions, and his dying + lips murmured yet once more, “Tu serai unomone!” + </p> + <p> + After the body of the worthy great-uncle had been laid in the grave, + Napoleon left Corsica to return to France and to his regiment, for the + time of his leave of absence had expired. + </p> + <p> + For the second time the lips of a dying man had prophesied him a great and + brilliant future. His dying father had said that one day the sword of his + son Napoleon would make all Europe bow under the yoke; his great-uncle had + prophesied he would be a great and exalted personage. + </p> + <p> + To these prophecies of the dying is to be added Mirabeau’s judgment, which + called Napoleon a genius of the first stamp. + </p> + <p> + But this great and glorious future was yet screened under dark clouds from + the eyes of the young lieutenant of artillery, and the blood-dripping hand + of the Revolution was first needed to tear away these clouds and to + convert the king’s lieutenant of artillery into the Emperor of France! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. A PAGE FROM HISTORY. + </h2> + <p> + The dark clouds which hung yet over the future of Napoleon Bonaparte, the + lieutenant of artillery, were gathering in heavier and heavier masses over + all France, and already were overshadowing the throne of the lilies. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette had already abandoned the paradise of innocency in + Trianon, and when she came there now it was to weep in silence, to cast + away the mask from her face, and under the garb of the proud, imperious, + ambitious queen to exhibit the pallid, anxious countenance of the woman. + </p> + <p> + Alas! they were passed away, those days of festivity, those innocent joys + of Trianon; the royal farmer’s wife had no more the heart to carry the + spindle, to gather eggs from the hens’ nests, and to perform with her + friends the joyous idyls of a pastoral life. + </p> + <p> + The queen had procured for herself a few years of freedom and license by + banishing from Versailles and from the Tuileries the burdensome Madame + Etiquette, who hitherto had watched over every step of a Queen of France, + but in her place Madame Politique had entered into the palace, and Marie + Antoinette could not drive her away as she had done with Madame Etiquette. + </p> + <p> + For Madame Politique came into the queen’s apartments, ushered in by a + powerful and irresistible suite. The failure of the crops throughout the + land, want, the cries of distress from a famishing people, the disordered + finances of the state—such was the suite which accompanied Politique + before the queen; pamphlets, pasquinades, sarcastic songs on Marie + Antoinette, whom no more the people called their queen, but already the + foreigner, L’Autrichienne—such were the gifts which Politique + brought for the queen. + </p> + <p> + The beautiful and innocent days of Trianon were gone, no longer could + Marie Antoinette forget that she was a queen! The burden of her lofty + position pressed upon her always; and, if now and then she sought to adorn + her head with roses, her crown pressed their thorns with deeper pain into + her brow. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunate queen! Even the circle of friends she had gathered round her + person only urged her on more and more into the circle which politics had + traced around her. In her innocency and thoughtlessness of heart she + imagined that, to a queen as to any other woman, it might be allowed to + have about her friends and confidants, to enjoy the pleasures of society, + and to amuse one another! But now she had to learn that a queen dare not + have confidants, friends, or social circles! + </p> + <p> + Her friends, in whose disinterestedness she had trusted, approached her + with demands, with prayers; they claimed power, influence, and + distinctions; they all wanted to rule through the queen; they all wanted + through her to impose laws to king and state; they wanted to name and to + depose ministers; they wanted their friendship to be rewarded with + embassies, ministerial offices, decorations, and titles. + </p> + <p> + And when Marie Antoinette refused compliance with their wishes, her + beautiful friends, the Duchesses de Polignac, wept, and her friends, + Messieurs Vesenval, Vaudreuil, Coigny, and Polignac, dared be angry and + murmur at her. + </p> + <p> + But when Marie Antoinette consented—when she used her influence with + the king, to satisfy the wishes of her friends, and to make ministers of + her facon—then the queen’s enemies, with loud, mad-dog cry, lifted + up the voice and complained and clamored that it was no more the king but + the queen who reigned; that she was the one who precipitated the nation + into wretchedness and want; that she gave millions to her friends, whilst + the people were perishing with hunger; that she sent millions to her + brother, the Emperor of Austria, whilst the country was only able to pay + the interest of her enormous debt; that she, in unrestrained appetite and + licentiousness, lived only for pleasure and festivities, whilst France was + depressed under misery and want. + </p> + <p> + And the queen’s enemies were mightier, more numerous, and more loyal one + to another than the queen’s friends, who were ever ready to pass into the + camp of her foes as soon as Marie Antoinette gratified not their wishes + and would not satisfy their political claims. + </p> + <p> + At the head of these enemies was the king’s brother, the Count de + Provence, who never forgave the queen for being an Austrian princess; + there were also the king’s aunts, who could never forgive her that the + king loved her, that by means of this love to his wife they should lose + the influence which these aunts, and especially Madame Adelaide, had + before exercised over him; there was the Duke d’Orleans, who had to + revenge himself for the disgust and dislike which Marie Antoinette + publicly expressed against this vicious and wild prince; there was the + Cardinal Prince de Rohan, whose criminal passion the queen had repelled + with contemptuous disgust, and who had paid for this passion one million + francs, with imprisonment, shame, and ridicule. For this passion for the + queen had blinded the cardinal, and made him believe in the possibility of + a return. In his blindness he had placed confidence in the whisperings and + false promises of the insidious intriguer Madame de la Motte-Valois, who, + in the queen’s name, asked from him a loan of a million for the purchase + of a jewelled ornament which highly pleased the queen, and which she, + notwithstanding her exhausted coffers, was resolved to possess. + </p> + <p> + Yes, love had blinded Cardinal de Rohan, and with blind eyes he had + accepted as letters from the queen those which Madame de la Motte brought + him; and he could not see that the person who gave him a rendezvous in the + gardens of Versailles was not the queen, but only a common, vicious woman, + who had been clothed in the queen’s garments. + </p> + <p> + The queen had been travestied into a wench, and the highest ecclesiastical + dignitary of the land was the one who took this wench for his queen, was + the one who, with a rendezvous, a kiss on the hand, and a rose, was + rewarded for the million he had given to the jeweller for a necklace of + diamonds! + </p> + <p> + It is true, the deception was discovered; it is true, it was Marie + Antoinette herself who asked for a strict investigation, who with tears of + anger required from her consort that this horrible intrigue which had been + woven round her person should be investigated and judged publicly before + the Parliament; that the Cardinal de Rohan should be punished for the + criminal insult offered by him to the queen, since he thought her capable + of granting him a rendezvous, of exchanging with him letters of tender + passion, and of accepting gifts from him! + </p> + <p> + But the Parliament, which recognized the guilt of Madame de la Motte, + which ordered her to be whipped, branded, and driven out of the country as + an impostor and a thief, the Parliament declared the Cardinal de Rohan + innocent; all punishments were removed from him, and he was re-established + in all his dignities and rights. And the people, who in enormous masses + had besieged the Parliament buildings, welcomed this decision of the + judges with loud demonstrations and shouts of joy, and carried the + cardinal in triumph through the streets, and honored and glorified him as + a martyr and a saint. + </p> + <p> + This triumph of the cardinal was an affecting defeat to the queen; it was + the first awful testimony, spoken loudly and openly, by the popular + sentiment. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto her enemies had worked against her quietly, and in the darkness + of night; but now, in open day, they dared launch against her their + terrible accusations, and represent her imprudence as a crime, her errors + as shameful and premeditated wickedness. No one believed in the queen’s + innocency in this necklace transaction; and whereas Cardinal de Rohan had + been made a martyr, whereas Parliament had declared him innocent, the + queen consequently must be the guilty one, to whose cupidity the cardinal + and the unfortunate Madame de la Motte and also the beautiful D’Olivia, + who in this horrible farce had played the part of the queen, had been + sacrificed. + </p> + <p> + The name, the character, the reputation of the queen, had been trodden + down in the dust, and the Count de Provence, who himself composed + sarcastic songs and pasquinades against his royal sister-in-law, and had + copies of them circulated through the court, reflected not that in + calumniating the queen and exposing her to the scorn and ridicule of the + world he thereby shook the throne itself, and imperilled the awe and + respect which the people should have had for the monarchy. And all the + other mighty dignitaries and foes of Marie Antoinette did not calculate + that in exciting the storm of calumny against the Queen of France, they + also attacked the king and the aristocracy, and tore down the barrier + which hitherto had stood between the people and the nobility. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto pamphlets and sarcastic songs only had been directed against the + queen; but now, in the year 1787, all France was to re-echo a pamphlet + launched against the nobility and the whole aristocracy. + </p> + <p> + This pamphlet was “The Wedding of Figaro,” by Beaumarchais. The habits of + the aristocracy, of the higher classes, were in this drama castigated and + thrown to the scorn, ridicule, and laughter of all France. Every thing + which the people hitherto had held sacred, was laughed at in this drama; + all the laws of manners, of rank, of morality, were scorned at, hissed at; + and, under this hissing, appeared in full view and with fearful veracity + the rotten and poisoned condition of the so-called upper classes of + society. + </p> + <p> + It was in vain that the censor declared the publication illegal, and + prohibited the representation of “The Wedding of Figaro.” The opposition + took advantage of this measure, and since it could not be published, + hundreds of copies were circulated; and, if it could not be represented, + its reading was listened to. It soon became fashionable to attend at the + readings of “Figaro’s Wedding” and to possess a copy of the drama. Even in + the queen’s social circle, in the circle of the Polignacs, this dangerous + drama was patronized, and even the queen was requested to use her + influence upon the king for its representation. + </p> + <p> + This general clamor, this tempest of the public opinion, excited even the + king’s curiosity; and as everybody attended the readings of Beaumarchais’ + drama, the crowned heads had also to bow to the fashion. Madame de Campan + had to read before the king and the queen this renowned “Wedding of + Figaro,” so that the king might give his decision. The good-natured + countenance of the king darkened more and more, and during Figaro’s + monologue, in which the different institutions of the state are ridiculed, + especially when, with words full of poison and scorn, the author alludes + to state-prisons, the king rose angrily from his seat. + </p> + <p> + “It is a contemptible thing,” cried he, vehemently. “The Bastile must be + destroyed before the representation of this piece would not appear as a + dangerous inconsequence. This man ridicules every thing which in a state + ought to be esteemed and respected.” + </p> + <p> + “This piece will not then be represented?” asked Marie Antoinette, at the + close of the reading. + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly not!” exclaimed Louis, “you can be convinced of it; this + piece will not be represented.” + </p> + <p> + But the clamor, the longings for this representation were more and more + loudly expressed, and more and more pressing. It was in vain that the king + by his decree forbade its already-announced representation in the theatre + of the menus plaisirs. Beaumarchais cried aloud to the murmuring audience, + who complained very loudly against this tyranny, against this oppression + of the king, the consoling words: “Well, sirs, the king desires that my + drama be not represented here, but I swear that it will be represented, + perhaps even in the chancel of Notre Dame.” + </p> + <p> + It was soon apparent that Beaumarchais’ words and the wishes of the public + opinion were stronger than the words and the wishes of the king and of his + highest officers. The king himself felt it and acknowledged it soon; he + shrugged his shoulders compassionately when the chancellor of the seal, + adhering still to his opposition, would by no means consent to the + performance of the drama. + </p> + <p> + “You will see,” said Louis, with his own soft, good-natured smile—“you + will see that Beaumarchais’ credit is better than that of the great-seal + bearer.” [Footnote: “Memoires de Madame de Campan,” vol. i., p. 279.] + </p> + <p> + The king’s prophecy was correct—Beaumarchais had more credit than + the chancellor! His powerful patrons in high places, and all those who + made opposition to the king and queen, and at their head the Count de + Provence, banded together to have this piece publicly represented. The + king’s consent was elicited from him by the assurance made public that + Beaumarchais had stricken out of his drama all the offensive and captious + parts, and that it was now a mere innocent and somewhat tedious piece. + </p> + <p> + The king gave his consent, and “The Wedding of Figaro” was represented at + the Theatre Francais. + </p> + <p> + The effect of this drama on the public was a thing unheard of; so + enthusiastic that Beaumarchais himself laughingly said: “There is + something yet more foolhardy than my piece, and that is, its result”—that + the renowned actress Sophie Arnold, in allusion to this, that the + opponents of this drama had prophesied that it would fall through, + exclaimed: “The piece will fall through to-day more than fifty times one + after another!” + </p> + <p> + But even this prophecy of the actress did not reach the full result, and + the sixtieth representation was as crowded as the first. All Paris wanted + to see it, so as to hiss the government, the nobility, clergy, morality. + There was a rush from the provinces to Paris for the sake of attending the + representation of “Figaro’s Wedding;” and even those who hitherto had + opposed the performance, pressed forward to see it. + </p> + <p> + One day Beaumarchais received a letter from the Duke de Villequier, asking + of him as a favor to give up for that evening his trellised box in behalf + of some ladies of the court, who desired to see “Figaro” without being + seen. + </p> + <p> + Beaumarchais answered: “My lord duke, I have no respect for ladies who + desire to see a performance which they consider improper, and who wish to + see it under cover. I cannot stoop to such fancies. I have given my piece + to the public to amuse and not to instruct them, not to procure to tamed + wenches (begueules mitigees) the satisfaction of thinking well of the + piece in a small trellised box, and then to say all manner of evil against + it in public. The pleasure of vice and the honors of virtue, that is what + the prudery of our age demands. My piece is not double-faced. It must be + accepted or repelled. I salute you, my lord duke, and keep my box.” + [Footnote: “Correspondance de Diderot et Grimm avec un Souverain.”] + </p> + <p> + All Paris chuckled over this letter, which was circulated in hundreds of + copies, as the drama itself had circulated at first. Every one was + convinced that it was the queen who wanted to attend the representation of + “Figaro” in the trellised box; for it, was well known that the queen, + angry at monsieur for having been present with all his suite at a + representation in the box reserved for the court, had openly declared: + “Could she come to the conclusion of seeing this drama, she would only see + it through a small trellised box, and that without any ceremony.” + </p> + <p> + In laughing at the letter of Beaumarchais, the ridicule was directed + against the queen, who had been refused in so shameful a manner. But Marie + Antoinette did not wish to be laughed at. She still hoped to overcome her + enemies, and to win the public sentiment. She requested an investigation, + she insisted that the Duke de Villequier should openly acknowledge for + whom among the ladies of the court he had asked for the box; that + Beaumarchais should publicly confess that he had not dared suppose his + words were directed against the queen. + </p> + <p> + The whole matter was brought to an end by an arbitrary decree. + Beaumarchais was compelled publicly to acknowledge that his famous letter + was directed neither to a duke nor to a peer, but to one of his friends, + whose strange request he had thus answered in the first flush of anger. + But it is evident no one believed in this explanation, and every one felt + pleasure in referring to the queen the expression of “begueule mitigee.” + </p> + <p> + Paris, which for a whole winter had laughed at a theatrical piece, and was + satiated with it, was now to assist at the first scene of a drama whose + tragical power and force were to tear France asunder, and whose + continuance was to be marked by blood and tears. + </p> + <p> + This important drama, whose opening followed closely Beaumarchais’ drama, + exhibited its first scene at Versailles at the opening of the + States-General on the 5th of May, 1789. All Paris, all France watched this + event as the rise of a new sun, of a new era which was to break upon + France and bring her happiness, salvation, and strength. A new, an + unsuspected power entered with it upon the scene, the Tiers Etat; the + third class was, at the opening of the States-General, solemnly recognized + as a third power, alongside of the nobility and clergy. With the third + class, the people and the yeomen entered into the king’s palace; one-half + of the people were to make the laws instead of having to submit to them. + </p> + <p> + It was Marie Antoinette who had endeavored with all her influence on the + king that the third class, hitherto barely recognized, barely tolerated, + should appear in a two-fold stronger representation at the States-General; + it was the queen also who had requested Necker’s recall. Unfortunate + woman, who bowed both pride and will to the wishes of public opinion, who + yet hoped to succeed in winning again the people’s love, since she + endeavored to meet the wishes of the people! + </p> + <p> + But this love had turned away from her forever; and whatever Marie + Antoinette might now do to exhibit her candid wishes, her devotedness was + not trusted in by the people, who looked upon her as an enemy, no longer + Queen of France, but simply an Austrian. + </p> + <p> + Even on this day of universal joy, on the day of the opening of the + States-General, there was no desire to hide from the queen the hatred felt + against her, but there was the resolve to show her that France, even in + her hour of happiness, ceased not to make opposition to her. + </p> + <p> + The opening of the States-General was to be preceded in Versailles by + divine service. In solemn procession the deputies arrived; and the people + who had streamed from Paris and from the whole region round about, and who + in compact masses filled the immense square in front of the palace, and + the whole street leading to the Church of St. Louis, received the deputies + with loud, unbroken shouts, and met the princes and the king with + applause. But no sooner was the queen in sight, than the people remained + dumb; and then, after this appalling pause, which petrified the heart of + the queen, the women with their true instinct of hatred began to cry out, + “Long live the Duke d’Orleans! Long live the people’s friend, the good + Duke d’Orleans!” + </p> + <p> + The name of the duke thus derisively thrown in the face of the queen—for + it was well known that she hated him, that she had forbidden him to enter + into her apartments—this name at this hour, thrown at her by the + people, struck the queen’s heart as the blow of a dagger; a deathly pallor + overspread her cheeks, and nearly fainting she had to throw herself into + the arms of the Princess de Lamballe, so as not to sink down. [Footnote: + See “Count Mirabeau,” by Theodore Mundt. Second edition, vol. iii., p. + 234.] + </p> + <p> + With the opening of the States-General, as already said, began the first + act of the great drama which France was going to represent before the eyes + of Europe terrified and horrified: with the opening of the States-General + the revolution had begun. Every one felt it; every one knew it; the first + man who had the courage to express it was Mirabeau—Mirabeau, the + deputy of the Third Estate, the count who was at enmity with all those of + his rank, who had solemnly parted with them to devote himself to the + people’s service and to liberty! + </p> + <p> + On the day of the opening, as he entered the hall in which the + States-General were convened, he gazed with scrutinizing and flaming eyes + on the representatives of the nobility, on those brilliant and proud lords + who, though his equals in rank, were now his inveterate enemies. A proud, + disdainful smile fluttered athwart his lips, which ordinarily were pressed + together with a sarcastic and contemptuous expression. He then crossed the + hall with the bearing of a conqueror, and took his seat upon those benches + from which was launched the thunderbolt which was to dash to pieces the + throne of the lilies. + </p> + <p> + A long-tried friend, who was also a friend of the government and of the + nobility, had seen this look of hatred and anger which Mirabeau had cast + upon the gallery of the aristocrats; he now approached Mirabeau to salute + him, and perhaps to pave a way of reconciliation between the prodigal + Count de Mirabeau and his associates in rank. + </p> + <p> + “Think,” said he, “my friend, that society is not to be won by threats, + but by flatteries; that, when once injured, it is difficult to effect a + reconciliation. You have been unjust toward society, and if you look for + forgiveness you must not be obstinate, but you must stoop to ask for + pardon.” + </p> + <p> + Mirabeau had listened with impatience, but at the word “pardon,” his anger + broke with terrible force. He sprang up, stamped violently on the floor + with his feet; his hair which, like a lion’s mane, mantled his head, + seemed to bristle up, his little eyes darted flashes, and his lips were + blanched and trembling, and with a thundering voice he exclaimed: “I am + not here to implore pardon for myself, but that others should sue for + mercy.” + </p> + <p> + Was Mirabeau himself willing to grant pardon? Had he come with a + reconciling heart into this assembly, where people and king were to + measure their rights one against the other? + </p> + <p> + As the good King Louis this day entered the hall, in all the pomp of his + royal dignity, to welcome the States-General with a solemn address, + Mirabeau’s eyes were fixed on him: “Behold the victim,” said he. + [Footnote: Theodore Mundt: “Graf Mirabeau,” vol. iv., p. 15.] + </p> + <p> + From this day the struggle began—the struggle of the monarchy + against the revolution, of the liberal party against the reaction, the + struggle of the people against the aristocracy, against every thing which + hitherto had been legitimate, welcomed, and sacred! + </p> + <p> + A new day had broken in, and the prophetic mind of the queen understood + that with it came the storm which was to scatter into fragments her + happiness and her peace. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. JOSEPHINE’S RETURN. + </h2> + <p> + To rest!—to forget! This was what Josephine sought for in + Martinique, and what she found in the circle of her friends. She wanted to + rest from the pains and struggles which had agitated the last years of her + life. She wanted to forget that she still loved the Viscount de + Beauharnais, though rejected and accused, though he had treacherously + abandoned her for the sake of another woman. + </p> + <p> + But he was the father of her children, and there was Hortense with her + large blue eyes and her noble, lovely countenance to remind Josephine of + the father to whom Hortense bore so close a resemblance. Josephine’s + tender-heartedness would not suffer the innocent, childish heart of + Hortense to become alienated from her father, or to forget the esteem and + respect which as a daughter she owed to him. Josephine therefore never + allowed any one to utter a word of blame against her husband in the + presence of her daughter; she even imposed silence on her mother when, in + the just resentment of a parent who sees her child suffer, she accused the + man who had brought wretchedness on her Josephine, who at so early an age + had taught her life’s sorrows. + </p> + <p> + How joyous, beautiful, happy had her Josephine nearly ten years ago left + her home, her country, her family, to go to a foreign land which attracted + her with every thing which can charm a young girl—with the love of a + young and beautiful husband—with the luxury, the pleasures and + festivities of Paris! + </p> + <p> + And now after ten years Josephine returned to her father’s home, lonely, + abandoned, unhappy, blighted with the mildew which ever deteriorates the + character of a divorced woman; yet so young, with so many ruined hopes, + with so many wounds in the heart! + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s mother could not pardon him all this, and her countenance + became clouded whenever the little Hortense spoke of her father. And the + child spoke of him so often—for each evening and morning she had to + pray God in his behalf—and when she asked her mother where her + brother Eugene was, why he had not come with them to Martinique; Josephine + answered her, he had remained with his father, who loved him so much, and + who must have at least one of his children with him. + </p> + <p> + “Why then can he not, with Eugene, be with us?” asked the little Hortense, + thoughtfully. “Why does he remain in that hateful, stony Paris, whilst he + could live with us in the beautiful garden where so many charming flowers + and so many large trees are to be found? Why is papa not with us, mamma?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he has occupations—because he cannot leave his regiment, my + child,” answered Josephine, carefully hiding her tears. + </p> + <p> + “If he cannot come to us, mamma, then let us go to him,” cried the loving + child. “Come, mamma, let us go on board a ship, and let us go to our dear + papa, and to my dear brother Eugene.” + </p> + <p> + “We must wait until your father sends for us, until he writes that we must + come,” said Josephine, with a sad smile. “Pray to God, my child, that he + may soon do it!” + </p> + <p> + And from this time the child prayed God every evening that her father + would soon send for her mother and for herself; and whenever she saw her + mother receive a letter she said: “Is it a letter from my papa? Does he + write for us to travel and to come to him?” + </p> + <p> + One day Josephine was enabled to answer this question to her daughter with + a proud and joyous yes. + </p> + <p> + Yes, the Viscount de Beauharnais had begged his wife to forget the past, + and to come back to him. He had, with all the contrition of penitence, + with the glow of an awakening love, prayed for pardon; he requested from + her large-heartedness to be once more reunited to him who had despised, + calumniated, and rejected her; he swore with sacred oaths to love her + alone, and to keep to her in unbroken faithfulness. + </p> + <p> + At first Josephine received these vows with a suspicious, sorrowful smile; + the wounds of her heart were not yet healed, the bitter experiences of the + past were yet too fresh in her mind; and Madame de la Pagerie, Josephine’s + mother, repelled with earnestness every thought of reconciliation and + reunion. She did not wish to lose her daughter a second time, and see her + go to meet a dubious and dangerous happiness; she did not wish that + Josephine, barely returned to the haven of rest and peace, should once + more risk herself on the open, tempestuous ocean of life. + </p> + <p> + But the letters of the viscount were more and more pressing, more and more + tender. He had completely and forever broken with Madame de Gisard; he did + not wish to see her again, and henceforth he desired to be the true, + devoted husband of his Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Josephine read these assurances, these vows of love, with a joyous smile, + with a beating heart: all the crushed flowers of her youth raised up their + blossoms again in her heart; she began again to hope, to trust, to believe + once more in the possibility of happiness; she was ready to listen to her + husband’s call, and to hasten to him. + </p> + <p> + But her mother held her back. She believed not, she trusted not. Her + insulted maternal heart could not forget the humiliations and the + sufferings which this man who now called for Josephine had inflicted upon + her daughter. She could not pardon the viscount for having deserted his + young wife, and that for the sake of a coquette! She therefore sought to + inspire Josephine with mistrust; she told her that these vows of the + viscount were not to be relied upon; that he had not given up his paramour + to come back to Josephine, but that he was forsaken by her and abandoned + by her. Madame de Gisard had regretted to be only the paramour of the + Viscount de Beauharnais, and, as she could never hope to be his legitimate + wife, she had abandoned him, to marry a wealthy Englishman, with whom she + had left France to go with him to Italy. + </p> + <p> + At this news Josephine’s head would sink down, and, with tears in her eyes + and sorrow in her heart, she promised her mother no more to listen to the + voice of a faithless husband; no more to value the assurances of a love + which only returned to her because it was rejected elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, not only the Viscount de Beauharnais prayed Josephine to + return, but also his father the marquis claimed this from his beloved + daughter-in-law; even Madame de Renaudin confirmed the entire conversion + of Alexandre, and conjured Josephine to hesitate no longer once more to + take possession of a heart which beat with so burning a sorrow and so + longing a love toward her. She pictured to her, besides, how necessary she + was to him; how much in these troublous and stormy days which had just + begun, he was in need of a quiet haven of domestic life, there to rest + after the labors and the conflicts of politics and of public life; how + many dangers surrounded him, and how soon it might happen that he would + need not only a household refuge but also a nurse who would bind his + wounds and keep watch near the bed of sickness. + </p> + <p> + For the times of quietness were gone; the brand which the States-General + had flung over France had lit a fire everywhere, in every city, in every + house, in every head; and the flaming speeches of the deputies of the + Third Estate only fanned the fire into higher flames. + </p> + <p> + The revolution was there, and nothing could keep back the torrent of + blood, fire, enthusiasm, and hatred. Already the Third Estate had solemnly + proclaimed its separation from Old France, from the ancient monarchy of + the lilies, since that monarchy had abandoned the large assembly-hall + where the States-General held their sessions, and in which the nobility + and the clergy still imagined they were able to maintain the balance of + power against the despised Third Estate. The Tiers Etat had, in the + ballroom, converted itself into the National Assembly, and with enthusiasm + had all these deputies of the third class sworn on the 17th of June, 1789, + “never to part one from the other until they had given a constitution to + France.” + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais, deputy from Blois, had passed with his + colleagues into the ballroom, had with them taken the fatal oath; in the + decisive night of the 4th of August he, with burning enthusiasm, had + renounced all the privileges of the nobility, all his feudal rights; and, + breaking with the past, with all its family traditions and customs, had + passed, with all the passion and zest of his nine-and-twenty years, into + the hostile camp of the people and of liberty. + </p> + <p> + The revolution, which moved onward with such rash and destructive strides, + had drawn Alexandre de Beauharnais more and more into its flood. It had + converted the king’s major into an enthusiastic speaker of the Jacobins, + then into the secretary of the National Assembly, and finally into its + president. + </p> + <p> + The monarchy was not yet powerless; it fought still with all the + bitterness of despair, of the pains of death, against its foes; it still + found defenders in the National Assembly, in the faithful regiments of the + Swiss and of the guards, and in the hearts of a large portion of the + people. The passions of parties were let loose one against another; and + Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, stood + naturally in the first rank of those who were threatened by the attacks of + the royalists. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Alexandre de Beauharnais was in danger! Since Josephine knew this, + there was for her but one place which belonged to her, to which she could + lay claim—the place at her husband’s side. + </p> + <p> + How could she then have withstood his appeals, his prayers? How could she + then have remained in the solitude and stillness of Martinique, when her + husband was now in the fight, in the very struggle? She had, now that fate + claimed it, either to share her husband’s triumphs, or to bring him + comfort if he fell. + </p> + <p> + The intercessions of her family, even the tears of her mother, could no + longer retain Josephine; at the side of her husband, the father of her two + children, there was her place! No one could deprive her of it, if she + herself wished to occupy it. + </p> + <p> + She was entitled to it, she was still the wife of the Viscount de + Beauharnais. The Parliament, which had pronounced its verdict against the + demands of a divorce from the viscount, had, in declaring Josephine + innocent, condemned her husband to receive into his house his wife, if she + desired it; or else, in case she waived this right, to pay her a fixed + annual income. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had parted voluntarily from her husband, since she had not + returned to him, but had exiled herself with her father-in-law and her + aunt in Fontainebleau; but she had never laid claims to nor received the + income which Parliament had appointed. She had never assumed the rights of + a divorced wife, but she retained still all the privileges of a married + woman, who at God’s altar had bound herself to her husband for a whole + life, in a wedlock which, being performed according to the laws of the + Catholic Church, was indissoluble. + </p> + <p> + Now the viscount claimed his wife, and who dared keep her back if she + wished to follow this call? Who could stand between husband and wife, when + their hearts claimed and longed for this reunion? + </p> + <p> + The tears of Madame de la Pagerie had attempted it, but had not succeeded! + The soft, patient, pliant Josephine had suddenly become a strong-minded, + joyous, courageous woman; the inconveniences of a long sea-voyage, the + perils of the revolution, into whose open crater she was to enter, + affrighted her not. All the energies of her being began to develop + themselves under the first sunbeams of a renewed love! The years of sorrow + had passed away. Life, love called Josephine again, and she listened to + the call, jubilant and full of friendly trust of undimmed hope! + </p> + <p> + In the first days of September, 1790, Josephine, with the little Hortense, + embarked from Martinique, and after a short, favorable passage, landed in + France, in the middle of October. [Footnote: If, in the work “Queen + Hortense, an Historical Sketch from the Days of Napoleon,” I have given a + few different details of Josephine’s return to France and to her husband, + I have followed the error common to all the historians of that time, who + represent Josephine returning despite her husband’s will, who receives her + into his house, and recognizes her as his wife, only at the instant + supplication of his family, and especially of his children. It is only of + late that all this has been satisfactorily refuted, and that it has been + proved that Josephine returned only at the instance of her husband’s + pressing demands. See Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. + i., p. 164.—L. M.] + </p> + <p> + Again a prophecy accompanied Josephine to France, and perhaps this + prophecy is to be blamed for her sudden departure and her unwavering + resolution to leave Martinique. The old negro woman who, once before + Josephine’s departure, had prophesied that she would wear a crown and be + more than a Queen of France—the old Euphemia was still living, and + was still considered as an infallible oracle. A few days before her + departure, Josephine, with all the superstitious faith of a Creole, went + to ask the old prophetess if her journey would be propitious. + </p> + <p> + The old Euphemia stared long and fixedly into Josephine’s smiling + countenance; then, as if overcome by a sudden thought, she exclaimed: “Go! + go as fast as possible, for death and danger threaten you! Already are on + the watch wicked and bloodthirsty fiends, who every moment are ready to + rush among us with fire and sword, and to destroy the colony in their + cruel wrath!” + </p> + <p> + “And shall I safely arrive in France?” asked Josephine. “Shall I again see + my husband?” + </p> + <p> + “You will see him again,” exclaimed the prophetess, “but hasten to go to + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he threatened with any danger?” demanded Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet!—not at once!” said the old negress. “They now applaud your + husband and recognize his services. But he has powerful enemies, and one + day they will threaten his life, and will lead him to the scaffold and + murder him!” + </p> + <p> + Before Josephine left Martinique, a portion of these prophecies of the old + negro woman were to be fulfilled. The wicked and bloodthirsty fiends, of + whom she said they were ready with fire and sword to rush upon the colony—those + fiends did light the firebrand and destroy the peace of Martinique. + </p> + <p> + The resounding cries for freedom uttered in the National Assembly, and + which shook the whole continent, had rushed along across the ocean to + Martinique. The storm-wind of the revolution had on its wings borne the + wondrous story to Martinique—the wondrous story of man’s sacred + rights, which Lafayette had proclaimed in the National Assembly, the + wondrous story that man was born free, that he ought to remain free, that + there were to be no more slaves in the land of liberty, in France, and in + her colonies. + </p> + <p> + The storm-wind which brought this great news across the ocean to + Martinique scattered it into the negro-cabins, and at first they listened + to it with wondrous delight. Then the delirium of joy came over them; + jubilant they broke their chains, and in wild madness anticipated their + human rights, their personal freedom. + </p> + <p> + The revolution, with its terrible consequences of blood and horrors, broke + loose in Martinique, and, exulting in freedom, the slaves threw the + firebrand on the roof of their former masters, rushed with war’s wild cry + into their dwellings, and, in freedom’s name, punished those who so long + had punished them in tyranny’s name. + </p> + <p> + Amid the barbaric shouts of those dark free men, Josephine embarked on + board the ship which was to carry her and her little Hortense to France; + and the flames which rose from the roofs of the houses as so many + way-marks of fire for the new era, were Josephine’s last, sad farewell + from the home which she was never to see again. [Footnote: Le Normand, + “Memoires de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 147] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE DAYS OF THE REVOLUTION. + </h2> + <p> + Happiness had once more penetrated into the heart of Josephine. Love again + threw her sun-gleams upon her existence, and filled her whole being with + animation and joy. She was once more united to her husband, who, with + tears of joy and repentance, had again taken her to his heart. She was + once more with her relatives, who, in the day of distress, had shown her + so much love and faithfulness, and finally she had also her son, her own + dear Eugene, from whom she had been separated during the sad years of + their matrimonial disagreements. + </p> + <p> + How different was the husband she now found from him she had quitted! He + was now a man, an earnest, thoughtful man, with a fiery determination, + with decidedness of purpose, and yet thoughtful, following only what + reason approved, even if the heart had been the mover. The passions of + youth had died away. The excitable, thoughtless, pleasure-seeking officer + of the king had become a grave, industrious, indefatigable, moral, austere + servant of the people and of liberty. The songs of joy, of equivocal + jesting, of political satire, had died away on those lips which only + opened now in the clubs, in the National Assembly, to utter inspired words + in regard to liberty, fraternity, and equality. + </p> + <p> + The most beautiful dancer of Versailles had become the president of the + National Assembly, which made so many tears run, and awoke so much anger + and hatred in the king’s palace of Versailles. He at least belonged to the + constitutional fraction of the National Assembly; he was the friend and + guest of Mirabeau and of Lafayette; he was the opponent of Robespierre, + Marat, and Danton, and of all the fanatics of the Mountain party, who + already announced their bloody views, and claimed a republic as the object + of their conflicts. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais was no republican, however enthusiastic he might + have been in favor of America’s struggle for freedom, however deeply he + had longed to go like Lafayette to America, for the sake of assisting the + Americans to break the chains which yoked them to England, so as to build + a republic for themselves. The enthusiasm of that day, the enthusiasm for + France had driven him upon the path of the opposition; but while desiring + freedom for the people, he still hoped that the people’s freedom was + compatible with the power and dignity of the crown; that at the head of + constitutional France the throne of a constitutional king would be + maintained. To bring to pass this reunion, this balance of right between + the monarchy and the people, such was the object of the wishes of + Alexandre de Beauharnais; this was the ultimate aim of his struggles and + longings. + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked upon these tumultuous conflicts of parties, upon this + wild storm of politics, with wondering, sad looks. With all the tact of + tender womanhood she held herself aloof from every personal interference + in these political party strifes. At the bottom of her heart a true and + zealous royalist, she guarded herself carefully from endeavoring to keep + her husband back from his chosen path, and to bring into her house and + family the party strifes of the political arena. She wanted and longed for + peace, unity, and rest, and in his home at least her husband would have no + debates to go through, no sentiments to fight against. + </p> + <p> + In silence and devotedness Josephine submitted to her husband’s will, and + left him to perform his political part, while she assumed the part of + wife, mother, of the representative of the household; and every evening + opened her drawing-room to her friends, and to her husband’s associates in + the same conflict. + </p> + <p> + What a mixed and extraordinary assemblage was seen in the drawing-room of + the president of the National Assembly! There were the representatives of + old France, the brilliant members of the old nobility: the Duke de la + Rochefoucauld, the Count de Montmorency, the Marquis de Caulaincourt, the + Prince de Salm-Cherbourg, the Princess von Hohenzollern, Madame de + Montesson, the wife of the old Duke d’Orleans; and alongside of these + names of the ancient regime, new names rose up. There were the deputies of + the National Assembly—Barnave, Mounier, Thouvet, Lafayette, and the + favorite of the people, the great Mirabeau. Old France and Young France + met here in this drawing-room of Josephine on neutral grounds, and the + beautiful viscountess, full of grace and prudence, offered to them both + the honors of her house. She listened with modest bashfulness to the words + of the great tribunes of the people, and oftentimes with a smile or a soft + word she reconciled the royalists, those old friends who sought in this + drawing-room for the Viscountess de Beauharnais, and found there only the + wife of the president of the National Assembly. + </p> + <p> + The saloon of Josephine was soon spoken of, and seemed as a haven in which + the refined, elegant manners, the grace, the wit, the esprit, had been + saved from the stormy flood of political strife. Every one sought the + privilege of being admitted into this drawing-room, whose charming + mistress in her own gentleness and grace received the homage of all + parties, pleased every one by her loveliness, her charms, the fine, + exquisite tact with which she managed at all times the sentiments of the + company, and with which she knew how to guide the conversation so that it + would never dwindle into political debates or into impassioned speeches. + </p> + <p> + However violent was the tempest of faction outside, Josephine endeavored + that in the interior of her home the serene peace of happiness should + prevail. For she was now happy again, and all the liveliness, all the joys + of youth, had again found entrance into her mind. The anguish endured, the + tears shed, had also brought their blessing; they had strengthened and + invigorated her heart; with their grave, solemn memories they preserved + Josephine, that child of the South, of the sun, and of joy, from that + light frivolity which otherwise is so often the common heritage of the + Creoles. + </p> + <p> + The viscount had now the satisfaction which ten years ago, at the + beginning of his married life, he had so intently longed for, the + satisfaction of seeing his wife occupied with grave studies, with the + culture of her own mind and talents. It was to him a ravishment to see + Josephine in her drawing-room in earnest conversation with Buffon, and + with all the aptitude of a naturalist speak of the organization and + formation of the different families of plants; he exulted in the open + praise paid to her when, with her fine, far-reaching voice, she sang the + songs of her home, which she herself accompanied on the harp; he was proud + when, in her saloon, with all the tact and assurance of a lady of the + world, she took the lead in the conversation, and could speak with poets + and authors, with artists and savants, and that, with understanding and + feeling, upon their latest works and creations; he was made happy when, + passing from serious gravity to the most innocent gayety, she jested, + laughed, and danced, as if she were yet the sixteen-year-old child whom + ten years ago he had made his wife, and from whom he had then so cruelly + exacted that she should demean herself as a fine, experienced, and + highly-refined lady. + </p> + <p> + Life had since undertaken to mould the young Creole into an elegant, + highly-accomplished woman, but fortunately life had been impotent to + change her heart, and that heart was ever beating in all the freshness of + youth, in all the joyous warmth and faithfulness of the young girl of + sixteen years who had come to France with so many ideal visions, so many + illusions, so many dreams and hopes. It is true this ideal had vanished + away, these illusions had burst into pieces like meteors in the skies; the + dreams and hopes of the young maiden heart had fallen into dust, but the + love, the confiding, faithful, hoping love, the love assured of the + future, had remained alive; it had overcome the storms and conflicts; it + had been Josephine’s consolation in the days of sorrow; it was now her + delight in these days of happiness. + </p> + <p> + Her whole heart, her undivided love, belonged to her husband, to her + children, and often from the society gathered in her reception-rooms, she + would slip away and hasten to the bed of her little Hortense to bid + good-night to the child, who never would sleep without bidding good-night + to its mother, who would kneel at the side of the crib with little + Hortense, and utter the evening prayer, asking of God to grant to them all + prosperity and peace! + </p> + <p> + But this peace which Josephine so earnestly longed for was soon to be + imperilled more and more, was to be banished from the interior of home and + family, from its most sacred asylum, by the revolution and its stormy + factions. + </p> + <p> + An important event, pregnant with results, suddenly moved all Paris, and + filled the minds of all with the most fearful anticipations. + </p> + <p> + The king, with his wife and children, had fled! Openly and irretrievably + he had separated himself from country and people; he had, by this flight, + solemnly expressed before all Europe the discord which existed between him + and his people, between the king and the constitution to which he had + sworn allegiance. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, was the + first to be informed of this extraordinary event. On the morning of the + 21st of June, 1791, M. de Bailly, mayor of Paris, came to announce to him + that the king with all his family had fled from Paris the previous + evening. + </p> + <p> + It was the hour at which the sessions of the National assembly began every + morning, and Beauharnais, accompanied by Bailly, hastened to the Assembly. + The deputies were already seated when the president took the chair with a + grave, solemn countenance. This countenance told the deputies of the + people that the president had an important and very unusual message to + communicate, and a deep stillness, an oppressive silence, overspread the + whole assemblage as the president rose from his seat to address them. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said he, with a voice which, amid the general silence, + sounded solemn and powerful—“gentlemen, I have a sad message to + bring before you. The mayor of Paris has just now informed me that the + king and his family have this night been seduced into flight by the + enemies of the people.” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” vol i., p. 171.] + </p> + <p> + This news had a stupendous effect on the deputies. At first they sat there + dumb, as if petrified with fear; then they all rose up to make their + remarks and motions in a whirl of confusion, and it required all the + energy and determination of the president to re-establish peace, and to + control their minds. + </p> + <p> + The Assembly then, in quiet debate, resolved to declare itself in + permanent session until the termination of this crisis, and gave to the + president full power during this time to provide for the tranquillity and + security of the Assembly. Bailly and Lafayette were by the president + summoned before the deputies, to state what the sentiments of Paris were, + what was the attitude of the National Guards, what were the precautions + they had taken to preserve aright the peace of Paris. + </p> + <p> + But this peace was not in danger, and the only one whom the Parisian + people at this moment dreaded, was he who had fled from Paris—the + king. And yet, not for a moment did the people rise in anger against the + king; actuated by a new and overpowering thought, the people in their + enthusiasm for this idea forgot their anger against him who by his deed + had kindled this thought. The thought which was uppermost in all minds at + the flight of the king was this: that the state could subsist even if + there were no king at its head; that law and order still remained in + Paris, even when the king had fled. + </p> + <p> + This law and order was the National Assembly, the living representation + and embodiment of the law; the government was there; the king alone had + disappeared. Such was the sentiment which animated all classes, which + brought the people in streaming masses to the palace where the National + Assembly held its sittings. A few hours after the news of the king’s + flight had spread through Paris, thousands were besieging the National + Assembly, and shouting enthusiastically: “Our king is here; he is in the + hall of session. Louis XVI. can go; he can do what he wills; our king is + still in Paris!” [Footnote: Prudhomme, “Histoire Parlementaire de la + Revolution,” vol. x. p. 241.] + </p> + <p> + The Assembly, “the King of Paris,” remained in permanent session, waiting + for the developments of events, and working out in committees the decrees + passed in common deliberation, whilst the president and the secretary + remained the whole night in the council-room, so as to be ready at any + moment to rectify fresh news and to issue the necessary orders. + </p> + <p> + Early next morning the most important news had reached the president, and + the deputies hastened from their respective committees into the hall of + session, there to take their seats. + </p> + <p> + Amid the breathless silence of the Assembly, President Beauharnais + announced that the king, the queen, the dauphin, Madame, and divers + persons of their suite, had been arrested in Varennes. + </p> + <p> + The Assembly received this communication with dignified quietude, for they + were conscious that the king’s return would in no wise impair their own + sovereignty, that the power was in their hands, even if the king were + there. In this full assurance of their dignity the National Assembly + passed a decree ordering the proper authorities “to protect the king’s + return, to seize and imprison all those who might forget, the respect they + owed to the royal dignity.” + </p> + <p> + At the same time the National Assembly sent from their number two + deputies, Barnave and Petion, to bring back from Varennes the unfortunate + royal family and to accompany them to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the news of the king’s capture only increased the people’s + enthusiasm for the National Assembly, the truly acknowledged sovereign of + France. Every one was anxious to give expression to this enthusiasm; the + National Guards of Paris begged for the privilege of taking the oath of + allegiance to the National Assembly, and when at the motion of the + president this was granted by the Assembly, a whole detachment was marched + into the hall so as to take the oath of allegiance to the National + Assembly with one voice, amid the applause of the Assembly and the + tribunes. This detachment was followed by fresh companies, and the people + filled the streets to see the National Guards come and go, and like them + to swear allegiance to the National Assembly with enthusiastic shouts. + </p> + <p> + The provinces would not be a whit behind the enthusiasm of Paris; and + whilst the guards swore their oath, from all cities and provinces came to + the president of the National Assembly, addresses congratulating the + Assembly on its triumphs, and promising the most unconditional + devotedness. + </p> + <p> + Finally after two days of restless activity, after two days, during which + Alexandre de Beauharnais had hardly found time to quiet his wife by a + note, explaining his absence from home, finally a courier brought the news + that the captive royal family were entering Paris. A second courier + followed the first. He announced that the royal family had reached the + Tuileries surrounded by an immense crowd, whose excitement caused serious + apprehensions. Petion had, therefore, thought it expedient not to allow + the royal family to alight, but had confined them to the two carriages, + and he now sent the keys of these two carriages to the president of the + National Assembly, as it was now his duty to adopt still further measures. + </p> + <p> + Beauharnais proposed that at once twenty deputies be chosen to speed on to + the Tuileries to deliver the royal family from their prison, and to lead + them into the palace. + </p> + <p> + The motion was carried, and the deputies reached the court of the + Tuileries yet in time to save the affrighted family from the people, who, + in their wild madness, were about to destroy the carriages, and to take + possession of the king and queen. + </p> + <p> + The presence of the deputies imposed silence on the shouts and howlings of + the people. The king had come into the Tuileries, and before him bowed the + people in dumb respect. They quietly allowed that this their king should + open the carriage wherein the other king, the king by God’s grace, Louis + XVI., sat a prisoner; they allowed that the king by the grace of the + people, the National Assembly, through its twenty deputies, should render + liberty to Louis and to his family, and lead them quietly under their + protection into the Tuileries. + </p> + <p> + But from this day the Tuileries, which for centuries had been the palace + of the kings of France, now became a prison for the King of France! + </p> + <p> + Louis XVI. was returned, not as the head, but as the prisoner of the + state; from the moment he left Paris, the ermine mantle of his royalty had + fallen from his shoulders upon the shoulders of the National Assembly; + King Louis XVI. had dethroned himself. + </p> + <p> + Amid these fatal storms, amid these ever-swelling revolutionary floods, + there was yet an hour of happiness for Josephine. Out of the wild waves of + rebellion was to rise, for a short time, an island of bliss. The National + Assembly, whose president, Alexandre de Beauharnais, had once more, in the + course of the sessions, been re-elected by general acclamation, declared + itself on the 3d of September, 1791, dissolved, and its members vanished + to make room for the Legislative Assembly, which organized the very next + day. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais, after having so long and so zealously discharged + his duties as a citizen, returned to his Josephine, to his children; and, + weary with the storms and debates of the last months, longed for a quiet + little place, away from the turmoil of the capital and from the attrition + of parties. Josephine acquiesced gladly in the wishes of her husband, for + she felt her innermost being shattered by these last exciting times, and + perhaps she cherished the secret hope that her husband, once removed from + Paris, would be drawn away from the dangerous arena of politics, into + which his enthusiasm had driven him. She was, and remained at heart, a + good and true royalist; and as Mirabeau, dying in the midst of + revolution’s storms, had said of himself, that “he took to his grave the + mourning-badge for the monarchy,” [Footnote: Mirabeau died on the 6th of + May, 1791.—See, on his death, “Count Mirabeau,” by Theodore Mundt, + vol. iv.] so also Josephine’s heart, since the flight to Varennes, wore + the mourning-badge for the unfortunate royal family, who since that day + had to endure so much humiliation, so much insult, and to whom Josephine + in her loyal sense of duty consecrated the homage of a devout subject. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, gladly consented to the viscount’s proposal to leave + Paris. Accompanied by their children and by the governess of Hortense, + Madame Lanoy, the viscount and his wife went to a property belonging to + one of the Beauharnais family near Solange. + </p> + <p> + Three months were granted to Josephine in the quietude, in the sweet + repose of country-life, at her husband’s side, and with her children, to + gather strength from the anxieties and griefs which she had suffered in + Paris. She enjoyed these days as one enjoys an unexpected blessing, a last + sunshine before winter’s near approach, with thankful heart to God. Full + of cheerful devotedness to her husband, to her children, her lovely + countenance was radiant with joy and love; she was ever busy, with the + sunshine of her smile, to dissipate the shadows from her husband’s brow, + and to replace the impassioned excitements, the honors and distinctions of + his Parisian life, by the pleasantness and joys of home. + </p> + <p> + But Alexandra de Beauharnais could no longer find satisfaction in the + quiet, harmless joys of home; he even reproached himself that he could be + cheerful and satisfied whilst France resounded with cries of distress and + complaints, whilst France was torn in her innermost life by the disputes + and conflicts of factions which, no more satisfied with the speeches of + the tribune, filled the streets with blood and wounds. The revolution had + entered into a new phase, the Legislative Assembly had become the + Constituent Assembly, which despoiled the monarchy of the last appearance + of power and degraded it to a mere insignificancy. The Girondists, those + ideal fanatics, who wanted to regenerate France after the model of the + states of antiquity, had seized the power and the ministerial + portefeuilles. The beautiful, witty, and noble Madame Roland ruled, by + means of her husband, the Minister Roland, and was striving to realize in + France the ideal of a republic after the pattern of Greece; she was the + very soul of the new cabinet, the soul of the Girondists, the rulers of + France; in her drawing-room, during the evening, the new laws to be + proposed next day in the Constituent Assembly, were spoken of, and the + government measures discussed. + </p> + <p> + For a moment it had seemed as if the king, through his cabinet of + Girondists, would once more be reconciled with his people, and especially + with the Constituent Assembly, as if the nation and the monarchy would + once more endeavor to stand one by the other in harmony and peace. Perhaps + the Girondists had believed in this possibility, and had regarded the + king’s assurances that he would adhere to the constitution, and that he + would go hand in hand with his ministers, and accept the constitution as + the faithful expression of his will. But when they discovered that Louis + was not honorable in his assurances; that he was in secret correspondence + with the enemies of France; that in a letter to his brother-in-law, the + Emperor Leopold, he had made bitter complaints about the constraint to + which he was subjected, then the Girondists were inflamed with animosity, + and had recourse to counter-measures. They decreed the exile of the + priests, and the formation, in the vicinity of Paris, of a camp of twenty + thousand militia from all the departments of France. + </p> + <p> + Foreign nations looked upon this decree as a sign of dawning hostilities, + and threatened France with countermeasures. France responded to the + challenge thus thrown at her, and, in a stormy session of the Assembly, + the fatherland was declared to be in danger, the organization of an army + to occupy the frontiers was decreed, and all the children of the + fatherland were solemnly called to her defence. + </p> + <p> + This call awoke Alexandre de Beauharnais from the dreamy repose to which + he had abandoned himself during the last months. His country called him, + and he dared not remain deaf to this call; it was his duty to tear himself + from the quiet peace of the household, from the arms of his wife and + family, and place himself in the ranks of the defenders of his country. + </p> + <p> + Josephine heard this resolution with tears in her eyes, but she could not + keep back her husband, whose countenance was beaming with enthusiasm, and + who dreamed of fame and victory. She accompanied Alexandre to Paris, and + after he had been gladly received by the minister of war, and appointed to + the Northern army, she then took from him a last, fond farewell, entreated + him with all the eloquence of love to spare himself, and not wantonly to + face danger, but to preserve his life for his wife and children. + </p> + <p> + Deeply moved by this tender solicitude of his wife, Alexandre promised to + hold her requests as sacred. Once more they embraced each other before + they both quitted Paris on diverging roads. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais went to Valenciennes, where commanded Marshal + Rochambeau, to whom he had been commissioned adjutant. + </p> + <p> + Josephine hastened with her children toward Fontainebleau, so at least to + be there united with her husband’s father, and to live under his + protection until the return of her husband. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE TENTH OF AUGUST, AND THE LETTER OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + </h2> + <p> + Since the death of Mirabeau, the last defender of the monarchy, since the + failure of the contemplated flight, royalty in France had no chance of + existence left; the throne had lost every prop upon which it could find + support, and it sank more and more into the abyss which the revolution had + dug under its feet. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette was conscious of it; her foreboding spirit foresaw the + coming evil; her proud soul nearly broke under the humiliations and griefs + which every day brought on. She had hitherto courageously and heroically + struggled against adversity; she had concealed tears and anguish, to smile + at that people which hated her and cursed her, which insulted and reviled + her constantly. But a day was to come in which the smile would forever + depart from her lip—in which Marie Antoinette, the daughter of the + Caesars, so deeply humbled and trodden down in the dust, would no more + lift up her head, would no more rise from the terrible blow. + </p> + <p> + This day was the 10th of August, in the year 1792. The terrible storm, + which so long had filled the air with its mutterings, and had shaken the + throne with its thunderings, was on this day with terrific power to be let + loose and to dash in pieces the monarchy. The king furnished the occasion + for this eruption by dismissing his Girondist ministry, by not signing the + decree for the organization of a national militia, and for the exile of + the priests. + </p> + <p> + This refusal was the flash which broke open the heavy clouds that so long + had hung over his head—the flash which caused the tempest to burst + forth. + </p> + <p> + Since that day Paris was in a state of rebellion; fresh disturbances took + place every day; and finally, on the morning of the 10th of August, bands + of people rushed to the palace of the Tuileries and surrounded it with + wild howlings and shouts. A portion of the National Guards endeavored to + force the people into a retreat; the other portion united with the people + in fierce assaults upon the Tuileries, and on its defenders the Swiss. + These were massacred by the people armed with pikes; with jubilant + howlings the armed masses rushed over the corpses of the fallen into the + king’s palace. + </p> + <p> + The Procurator-General Roderer implored the king to save himself with his + family by taking refuge in the National Assembly, for there alone was + safety for him and the queen. + </p> + <p> + Louis hesitated; but Marie Antoinette felt once more the pride of a queen + awake within her; she felt it was nobler and worthier to die as the loyal + Swiss had done, to die sword in hand, than to meet pardon and disgrace, + than to bow her head under the yoke. She entreated the king to remain with + the loyal National Guards and to fight with his soldiers and die in the + palace of his fathers. She spoke to the successor of Henry IV., to the + father of the dauphin, for whom he should maintain the inheritance + received; she appealed to the heart, to the honor of Louis; she spoke with + flaming eyes, and with the eloquence of despair. + </p> + <p> + But Louis listened not to her, but to the solicitations of Roderer, who + told him that he had but five minutes to save himself, the queen, and his + children; that in five minutes more all would be lost. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be helped,” muttered the king; and then with louder voice he + continued: “It is my will that we be conducted into the Legislative + Assembly; I command it!” + </p> + <p> + A shriek of terror broke forth from the breast of the queen; her proud + heart resisted once more her husband’s weakness, who, for his own and for + her misfortune, was not made of the stuff which moulds kings. + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” cried she, angrily and excited—“sire, you must first command + that I be nailed to the walls of this palace! I remain here. I stir not + from this spot!” [Footnote: The very words of the queen.—See + “Memoires Secretes et Universelles,” par Lafont d’Aussone.] + </p> + <p> + But Madame Elizabeth, the Princesses de Lamballe and de Tarent, begged her + with tears to consent; the good king fixed on her sad, weeping eyes, and + Roderer entreated her not to abandon, by her delays, to the approaching + executioners, her husband, her children, and herself. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette offered to her husband her last and her greatest + sacrifice; she bowed her proud head to his will; she consented to + accompany the king with her children into the Assembly. + </p> + <p> + She took the dauphin in her arms, Madame Therese by the hand, and, at the + side of the king, followed by the Princesses Lamballe and Tarent, walked + out of the palace of the Tuileries to go to the Convent des Peuillants, + where the Legislative Assembly held its sessions. + </p> + <p> + What a martyrdom in this short distance from the Tuileries to the + Feuillants—what dishonor and fears were gathered on this path! + Between the deep ranks of Swiss grenadiers and National Guards was this + path; the queen stares fixedly on the ground, and she does not see that + her thin silk shoes will be torn by the hard, fallen leaves of the trees + under which they are moving. + </p> + <p> + But the king sees every thing, notices every thing. “How many leaves,” + said he, gazing forward—“they fall early this year!” + </p> + <p> + Now at the foot of the terrace the advance of the royal family is stopped + by a multitude of people, who, with wild howlings, swing their pikes and + clubs, and in their madness shout: “No, they must not enter the Assembly!—they + are the cause of all our misery! Let us put an end to all this! Down with + them!—down!” + </p> + <p> + The queen pays no attention to these shouts; she sees not that the + National Guards are clearing a way by force; she walks forward with + uplifted head, with a countenance petrified like that of Medusa at the + sight of evil. + </p> + <p> + But as a man approaches her, seizes the dauphin and takes him in his arms, + the transfixed queen is aroused, and, with all the anguish of a mother’s + despair, grapples the arm of the man who wants to rob her of all she now + possesses, her child! + </p> + <p> + “Be not afraid,” whispered the man, “I will do him no harm, I am but going + to carry him;” and Marie Antoinette, her eyes fixed on the child, moves + forward. At their entrance into the hall of the Assembly the man gives her + back the dauphin, and she makes him sit down near her on the seats of the + ministers. + </p> + <p> + A rough voice issues from the midst of the Assembly: “The dauphin belongs + to the nation; place him at the side of the president. The Austrian is not + worthy of our confidence!” + </p> + <p> + They tear away from the queen the weeping child, who clings to her, and + who is carried to the president, at whose left hand the king has seated + himself. + </p> + <p> + Again a voice is heard reminding the Assembly of the law which forbids + them to deliberate in the presence of the king. + </p> + <p> + The royal family must leave the lower portion of the hall, and are led + into a small room, with iron trellis-work, behind the president’s chair. + </p> + <p> + The royal family, with their attendants, pressed into the small space of + this room, can here at least, away from the gaze of their enemies, hide + their dishonored heads; at least no one sees the nervousness of despair + which now and then agitates the tall figure of the queen, the tears + trembling on her eyelids when she looks to the poor little dauphin, whose + blond curly head lies in her bosom, asleep from exhaustion, hunger, and + sorrow. + </p> + <p> + No one sees the king and the queen, but they see and hear every thing. + They hear from without the howlings of the mob, the cannon’s roar, the + reports of the rifles, telling them that a bloody fratricidal strife, a + terrible civil war, is raging. They hear there in the hall, a few steps + from them, the fanatical harangues of the deputies, whose words, full of + blood, are like the hands of the murdering Marsellais there without. Marie + Antoinette hears Vergniaud’s motion, “to divest the king at once of his + power and rank,” and she hears the acclamations of the Assembly in favor + of the motion. She hears the Assembly by their own power reinvesting the + Girondist ministers, dismissed by the king, with their dignity and power! + She hears the Assembly decide “to invite the French people to form a + national compact.” + </p> + <p> + She hears all this, and the cold perspiration of anguish and horror covers + her brow while she has yet strength enough to force hack her tears into + her heart. She asks for a handkerchief to wipe her forehead. Not one of + the attendants around can furnish a kerchief which is not stained with the + blood of the victims fallen at their side in protecting the royal family + with their lives. [Footnote: “Memoires inedites du Comte de la + Rochefoucauld.”] + </p> + <p> + At last, at two o’clock in the morning, is this painful martyrdom ended, + and the royal family are led into the upper rooms of the convent, where + hastily and penuriously enough a few chambers had been furnished. + </p> + <p> + The howlings of the crowd ascend to their windows. Under those of the + queen’s room groups of infuriated women sing the song whose horrible + burden is, “Madame Veto avait promis de faire egorger tout Paris.” Between + the sentences other voices shout and howl: “The queen is the cause of our + misery! Kill her! kill the queen, the murderess of France! Kill Madame + Veto! Throw us her head!” + </p> + <p> + Three days after, the royal family are led to the Temple. The rulers of + the state are now state prisoners. But the queen had already found the + peace which misfortune generally brings to strong souls; and as she walked + to the Temple, and saw her foot protruding from the extremity of her shoe, + she said with an affecting smile, “Who could have believed that one day + the Queen of France should be in want of shoes!” + </p> + <p> + With the 10th of August began the last act of the great tragedy of the + revolution. Its second scene had its representation in the first days of + September, in those days of blood and tears, in which infuriated bands of + the people stormed the prisons to murder the captive priests, aristocrats, + and royalists. + </p> + <p> + Under the guillotine fell during this month the head of the queen’s + friend, the Princess de Lamballe, who was followed in crowds by the king’s + faithful adherents, sealing their loyalty and their love with their death. + </p> + <p> + This loyalty and love for the royal family was during this month branded + as an unpardonable crime, for the National Convention, which on the 21st + of September had taken the place of the Constituent Assembly, on the 25th + declared France to be a republic, and the royalists became thereby + criminals, who had sinned in the respect and love which they owed to the + “republic one and indivisible.” + </p> + <p> + The new republic of France celebrated her saturnalia in the following + months, and unfurled her blood-stained standard over the nation. She was + not satisfied with having brought to the guillotine more than ten thousand + aristocrats and royalists, to terrify the faithful adherents and servants + of the throne. She required, moreover, the death of those for whose sake + so many thousands had perished—the death of the king and of the + queen. + </p> + <p> + On the 5th of December began the trial of Louis Capet, ex-King of France, + now accused by the Convention. The pages of history have illustrated this + stupendous and tragical event in all its shapes and colors. Each party has + preyed upon it, the poets have sung it, and made it the central point of + tragedy and romance: but none have painted it in so telling, in so terse, + masterly traits, none have so fully comprehended and expressed the already + stupendous event, as Lieutenant Napoleon Bonaparte, the future Emperor of + France. + </p> + <p> + He happened to be in Paris during these days of terror. He had, with all + the energies of his soul, given himself up to the new state of things, and + he belonged to the most upright and zealous faction of the republicans. He + acknowledged himself won over to their ideas, he participated in their + celebrations, he was the friend of many of the most influential and + conspicuous members of the Convention, and he was rarely absent from their + meetings; but in the presence of the awful catastrophe of the king’s + accusation and execution his proud and daring soul shrank back, and, full + of misgivings, shuddered within itself. The young, enthusiastic + republican, to his own great horror, found in the depths of his soul a + holy respect and awe in the presence of this royalty which he so often in + words had despised, and the fall of the king, this enemy of the republic, + moved his heart as a calamity which had fallen upon him and upon all + France. He himself gave to one of his friends in Ajaccio a very correct + description of these days. After narrating the events of the first days of + the trial of the king, he continues: + </p> + <p> + “The day after I heard that the advocate Target had refused to undertake + the king’s defence, to which he was privileged by virtue of his office. + This is what may be called, in the strictest sense of the word, to erase + one’s name from history. What grounds had he for such a low cunning? ‘His + life I will not save, and mine I dare not risk!’ Malherbes, Tronchet, + Deseze, loyal and devoted subjects, to imitate them in their zeal would be + impossible for me; but were I a prince I would have them sit at my right + hand—united together in the most strenuous efforts to defend the + successor of St. Louis. If they survive this deed of sublime faithfulness, + never can I pass by them without uncovering my head. + </p> + <p> + “Business detained me unavoidably in Versailles. Only on the 16th of + January did I return to Paris, and consequently I had lost three or four + scenes of this tragedy of ambition. But on the 18th of January I went to + the National Convention. Ah, my friend, it is true, and the most + infuriated republicans avow it also, a prince is but an ordinary man! His + head will as surely fall as that of another man, but whosoever decrees his + death trembles at his own madness, and were he not urged by secret + motives, his vote would die on his lips ere it was uttered. I gazed with + much curiosity at the fearless mortals who were about deciding the fate of + their king. I watched their looks. I searched into their hearts. The + exceeding weightiness of the occasion had exalted them, intoxicated them, + but within themselves they were full of fear in the presence of the + grandeur of their victim. + </p> + <p> + “Had they dared retreat, the prince had been saved. To his misfortune, + they had argued within themselves, ‘If his head falls not to-day, then we + must soon give ours to the executioner’s stroke.’ + </p> + <p> + “This was the prominent thought which controlled their vote. No pen can + adequately portray the feelings of the spectators in the galleries. + Silent, horrified, breathless, they gazed now on the accused, now on the + defenders, now on the judges. + </p> + <p> + “The vote of Orleans sounded forth—‘Death!’ An electric shock could + not have produced deeper impression. The whole assembly, seized with an + involuntary terror, rose. The hall was filled with the murmurs of + conflicting emotions. + </p> + <p> + “Only one man remained seated, immovable as a rock, and that one was + myself. + </p> + <p> + “I ventured to reflect on the cause of such indifference (as that of + Orleans) and I found that cause grounded on ambition, but this cannot + justify the conduct of Orleans. It is only thus that I could account for + his action: he seeks a throne, though without any right to it, and a + throne cannot be won if the pretender renounces all claims to public + respect and virtue. + </p> + <p> + “I will be brief, for to unfold a mournful story is not my business. The + king was sentenced to death; and if the 21st day of January does not + inspire hatred for the name of France, a glorious name at least will have + been added to the roll-call of her martyrs. + </p> + <p> + “What a city was Paris on that day! The population seemed to be in a state + of bewilderment; all seemed to exchange but gloomy looks, and one man + hurried on to meet another without uttering a word. The streets were + deserted; houses and palaces were like graves. The very air seemed to + mirror the executioner. In a word, the successor of St. Louis was led to + the scaffold through the ranks of mourning automatons, that a short time + before were his subjects. + </p> + <p> + “If any one is at your side, my friend, when you read this, conceal the + following lines from him, even were he your father. It is a stain on the + stuff of which my character is made—that Napoleon Bonaparte, for the + sake of a human being’s destruction, should have been deeply moved and + compelled to retire to his bed, is a thing barely credible, though it is + true, and I cannot confess it without being ashamed of myself. + </p> + <p> + “On the night before the 21st of January I could not close my eyes, and + yet I could not explain to myself the cause of this unusual excitement. I + rose up early and ran everywhere to and fro where crowds had gathered. I + wondered at, or much more I despised, the weakness of those forty thousand + National Guards, of which the nineteenth part were practically the + assistants of the executioner. At the gate of St. Denis I met Santerre; a + numerous staff followed him. I could have cut off his ears. I spat down + before him—it was all I could do. In my opinion, the Duke d’Orleans + would have filled his place better. He had set his eyes on a crown, and, + as every one knows, such a motive overcomes much hesitancy. + </p> + <p> + “Following the Boulevards, I came to the Place de la Revolution. The + guillotine, a new invention, I had not yet seen. A cold perspiration ran + over me. Near me stood a stranger, who attributed my uneasiness and pallor + to some special interest on my part for the king’s fate. ‘Do not be + alarmed,’ said he, ‘he is not going to die; the Convention is only glad to + exhibit its power, and at the foot of the scaffold the king will find his + letters of pardon.’ ‘In this case,’ said I, ‘the members of the Convention + are not far from their own ruin, and could a guilty man have more deserved + his fate than they? Whoever attacks a lion, and desires not to be + destroyed by it, must not wound but kill on the spot.’ + </p> + <p> + “A hollow, confused noise was heard. It was the royal victim. I pushed + forward, making way with my elbows, and being pushed myself. All my + efforts to come closer were fruitless. Suddenly the noise of drums broke + upon the gloomy silence of the crowd. ‘This is the signal for his + freedom,’ said the stranger. ‘It will fall back on the head of his + murderers,’ answered I; ‘half a crime in a case like this is but + weakness.’ + </p> + <p> + “A moment’s stillness followed. Something heavy fell on the scaffold. This + sound went through my heart. + </p> + <p> + “I inquired of a gendarme the cause of this sound. ‘The axe has fallen,’ + said he. ‘The king is not saved then?’ ‘He is dead.’ ‘He is dead!’ + </p> + <p> + “For ten times at least I repeated the words ‘He is dead.’ + </p> + <p> + “For a few moments I remained unconscious. Without knowing by whom, I was + carried along by a crowd, and found myself on the Quai des Theatines, but + could say nothing, except ‘He is dead.’ + </p> + <p> + “Entirely bewildered, I went home, but a good hour elapsed before I fully + recovered my senses.” [Footnote: See “Edinburgh Quarterly Review,” 1830.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN. + </h2> + <p> + The king’s execution was the signal-fire which announced to the horrified + world the beginning of the reign of terror, and told Europe that in France + the throne had been torn down, and in its stead the guillotine erected. + Yes, the guillotine alone now ruled over France; the days of moderation, + of the Girondists, had passed away; the terrorists, named also men of the + Mountain, on account of the high seats they occupied in the Convention, + had seized the reins of power, and now controlled the course of events. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere, in every province, in every city, the blood-red standard of + the revolution was lifted up; might had become law; death was the rule, + and in lieu of the boasted liberty of conscience was tyranny. Who dared + think otherwise than the terrorists, who presumed to doubt the measures of + the Convention, was a criminal who, in the name of the one and indivisible + republic, was to be punished with death; whose head must fall, for he had + cherished thoughts which agreed not with the schemes of the + revolutionists. + </p> + <p> + How in these days of agitation and anguish Josephine rejoiced at her good + fortune, that she had not to tremble for her husband’s life; that she was + away from the crater of the revolution which raged in Paris, and daily + claimed so many victims! + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais was still with the army. He had risen from rank + to rank; and when, in May, General Custine was deposed by the Committee of + Public Safety from the command of the Northern army, Alexandre de + Beauharnais, who was then chief of the general’s staff of this army, was + appointed in his place as commanding general of the Army of the Rhine; and + the important work now to be achieved was to debar the besieging Prussians + and Austrians from recapturing Mayence. The Committee of Public Safety had + dismissed General Custine from his post, because he had not pressed on + with sufficient speed to the rescue of Mayence, according to the judgment + of these new rulers of France, who wanted from Paris to decide all + military matters, and who demanded victories whilst too often refusing the + means necessary for victory. + </p> + <p> + General de Beauharnais was to turn to good what General Custine, according + to the opinion of these gentlemen of the Convention, had failed to do. + This was an important and highly significant order, and to leave it + unfulfilled was to excite the anger of the Committee of Safety; it was + simply to deserve death. + </p> + <p> + General de Beauharnais knew this well, but he shrank not back from the + weighty and dangerous situation in which he was placed. To his country + belonged his life, all his energies; and it was to him of equal importance + whether his head fell on the battle-field or on the scaffold; in either + case it would fall for his country; he would do his duty, and his country + might be satisfied with him. + </p> + <p> + In this enthusiastic love for country, De Beauharnais accepted cheerfully + the offered command of the Army of the Rhine as general-in-chief, and he + prepared himself to march to the rescue of besieged Mayence. + </p> + <p> + Whilst General de Beauharnais was on the French frontier, Josephine + trembled with anxious misgivings. The new dignity of her husband filled + her with fear, for she multiplied the dangers which surrounded him and his + family, for now the eyes of the terrorists were fixed on him. An + unfortunate move, an unsuccessful war operation, could excite the wrath of + these men of power, and send Beauharnais to the guillotine. It was well + known that he belonged not to the Mountain party, but to the moderate + republicans, to the Girondists; and as the Girondists were now + incarcerated, as the Committee of Safety had brought accusations against + them, and declared them guilty of treason toward France, it was also easy, + if it pleased the terrorists, to find a flaw in the character of General + Beauharnais, and to bring accusations against him as had been done against + the Girondists. + </p> + <p> + Such were Josephine’s fears, which made her tremble for her husband, for + her children. She wished at least to secure these from the impending + danger, and to save and shield them from the guillotine. Her friend, the + Princess von Hohenzollern, was on the eve of leaving for England with her + brother the Prince von Salm, and Josephine was anxious to seize this + opportunity to save her children. She brought Eugene and Hortense to the + princess, who was now waiting in St. Martin, in the vicinity of St. Pol, + in the county of Artois, expecting a favorable moment for departure; for + already was the emigration watched, already it was considered a crime to + leave France. With bitter tears of grief, and yet glad to know her + children safe, Josephine bade farewell to her little ones, and then + returned to Paris, so as to excite no suspicion through her absence. But + no sooner had General Beauharnais heard of Josephine’s plan to send her + children from the country, than in utmost speed he dispatched to his wife + a courier bearing a letter in which he decidedly opposed the departure of + the children, for by this emigration his own position would be imperilled + and his character made suspicious. + </p> + <p> + Josephine sighed, and, with tears in her eyes, submitted to her husband’s + will; she sent a faithful messenger to St. Martin to bring back Eugene and + Hortense. But the Princess von Hohenzollern would not trust the children + to any one; she had sworn to her friend Josephine to watch over them, + never to let them go out of her sight, and she wished to keep her oath + until such time as she could restore the children to their mother. She + therefore returned herself to Paris, to bring back Eugene and Hortense to + Josephine; and this journey, so short and so insignificant in itself, was + nevertheless the occasion that the Princess von Hohenzollern remained in + France; that her brother, the Prince von Salm, should mount the scaffold! + The favorable moment for emigration was lost through this delay; the + journey to Paris had attracted the eyes of the authorities to the doings + of the princess and of her brother, the contemplated journey to England + was discovered, and the incarceration of the Prince von Salm and of his + sister was the natural consequence. A few months after, the prince paid + with his life the contemplated attempt to migrate; his sister, the + Princess von Hohenzollern, was saved from the guillotine through accident. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Josephine had at least her children safely returned, and, in + the quietude and solitude of Fontainebleau, she awaited with beating heart + the future developments of events; she saw increase every day the dangers + which threatened her, her family, and, above all things, her husband. + </p> + <p> + Mayence was still besieged by the Austrian and Prussian forces. General + Beauharnais had not completed the organization of his army so as to press + onward to the rescue of the besieged, whose perils increased every day. + But whilst, in unwearied activity, he urged on the preliminary operations, + a courier arrived, who brought to the general his appointment to the + office of minister of war, and required his immediate presence in Paris, + there to assume his new dignity. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais had the courage to answer with a declination the + office. He entreated the Convention to make another choice, for he + considered himself more competent to serve his country against the + coalition of tyrants, among his companions-in-arms, than to be minister of + war amid revolution’s storms. + </p> + <p> + The Convention pardoned his refusal for the sake of the patriotic + sentiments which he had expressed. But this refusal was to have, not only + for the general, but also for all the aristocracy of France, the most + fatal results. Some of the most fanatical members of the Mountain party + ever considered as an audacious resistance to the commands of the + Convention this refusal of Alexandre de Beauharnais, to accept the office + which the highest powers of the land offered him. + </p> + <p> + It was a nobleman, an aristocrat, who had dared oppose the democratic + Convention, and hence the welcome pretext was found to begin the + long-wished-for conflict against the aristocrats. One of the deputies of + the Mountain made the motion to remove from all public offices, from the + army, from the cabinet, all noblemen. Another accused General de + Beauharnais, as well as all officers from amongst the nobility, of + moderate tendencies, and requested at the same time that a list of all + officers from the nobility, and now in the army, should be laid before the + Convention. + </p> + <p> + But on this very day a letter from the general reached the Convention. In + this letter he expressed the hope of a speedy rescue of Mayence; he + announced that he had completed the organization of his forces and all his + preparations, and that soon from the camps of Vicembourg and Lauterburg he + would advance against Mayence. + </p> + <p> + This letter was received by the Convention with loud acclamations, and so + took possession of all minds that they passed over the motion of hostility + against the nobility, to the order of the day. + </p> + <p> + Had General de Beauharnais accomplished his purpose—had he succeeded + in relieving the garrison besieged in Mayence, now sorely pressed, and in + delivering them, this horrible decree which caused so much blood to flow, + this decree against the nobility, would never have appeared, and France + would have been spared many scenes of cruelty and horror. + </p> + <p> + Beauharnais hoped still to effect the rescue. Trusty messengers from + Mayence had brought him the news that the garrison held on courageously + and bravely, and that they could hold their ground a few days longer. + Dispatch was therefore necessary; and if in a few days they could be + re-enforced, then they would be saved, provided the other generals should + advance with their troops in time to attack the Austrian and Prussian + forces lying round about Mayence. The French had already succeeded in + obtaining some advantages over the enemy; and General de Beauharnais could + triumphantly announce to the Convention that, on the 22d of July, a warm + encounter with the Prussians had taken place at St. Anna’s chapel, and + that he had forced the Prussians to a retreat with considerable loss. + </p> + <p> + The Convention received this news with jubilant shouts, and already + trusted in the sure triumph of the French armies against the united forces + of Prussia and Austria. If in these days of joyous excitement some one had + dared renew the motion to dismiss Beauharnais from his command because he + was a nobleman, the mover would undoubtedly have been considered an enemy + of his country. + </p> + <p> + How much attention in these happy days was paid to the general’s wife—how + busy were even the most fanatical republicans, the dreaded ones of the + Mountain, to flatter her, to give expression to their enthusiastic praises + of the general who was preparing for the arms of the republic so glorious + a triumph! + </p> + <p> + Josephine now came every day to be present in the gallery at the sessions + of the Convention, and her gracious countenance radiated a cheerful smile + when the minister of war communicated to the Assembly the newly-arrived + dispatches which announced fresh advantages or closer approaches of + General Beauharnais. By degrees a new confidence filled the heart of + Josephine, and the gloomy forebodings, which so long had tormented her, + began to fade away. + </p> + <p> + In the session of the 28th of July, Barrere, with a grave, solemn + countenance, mounted the tribune and with a loud, sad voice announced to + the Convention, in the name of the Committee of Safety, that a courier had + just arrived bringing the news that, on the 23d of July, Mayence, in + virtue of an unjust capitulation, had fallen. + </p> + <p> + A loud, piercing shriek, which issued from the gallery, broke the silence + with which the Assembly had received this news. It was Josephine who had + uttered this cry—Josephine who was carried away fainting from the + hall. She awoke from her long swoon only to shed a torrent of tears, to + press her children to her heart, as if desirous to screen them from the + perils of death, which now, said her own forebodings, were pressing on + from all sides. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was not deceived: this calamitous news, all at once, changed the + whole aspect of affairs, gave to the Convention and to the republic + another attitude, and threw its dark shadows over the unfortunate general + who had undertaken to save Mayence, and had not been able to fulfil his + word. + </p> + <p> + Surely this was not his fault, for General Dubayet had capitulated before + it had been possible for Beauharnais to accomplish the rescue. No one + therefore ventured to accuse him, but undeserved misfortune always remains + a misfortune in the eyes of those who had counted upon success; and the + Convention could never forgive the generals from whom they had expected so + much, and who had not met these expectations. + </p> + <p> + These generals had all been men of the aristocracy. As there was no reason + to accuse them on account of their unsuccessful military operations, it + was necessary to attack them with other weapons, and seek a spot where + they could be wounded. This spot was their name, their ancestors, who in + the eyes of the republican Convention rose up like embodied crimes behind + their progeny, to accuse the guilty. + </p> + <p> + The Jacobin Club, a short time after the capture of Mayence, began again + in an infuriated session the conflict against the nobility, and the + fanatical Hebert moved: + </p> + <p> + “All the noblemen who serve in the army, in the magistracy, in any public + office, must be driven away and dismissed. The people must require this, + the people themselves! They must go in masses to the Convention, and after + exposing the crimes and the treachery of the aristocrats, must insist on + their expulsion. The people must not leave the Convention, it must remain + in permanent session, there until it is assured that its will is carried + out.” + </p> + <p> + The multitude with loud, jubilant tones cried, “Yes. yes, that is what we + want, let us go to the Convention! No more nobility! the nobles are our + murderers!” + </p> + <p> + The next day, the Jacobins, accompanied by thousands of shouting women and + infuriated men, went to the Convention to make known its will in the name + of the people. The Convention received their petition and decreed the + exile and the dissolution of the nobility, and delivered to the punishment + of the law the guilty subject who would dare use the name of noble. + </p> + <p> + General de Beauharnais saw full well the blow aimed at him, and at all the + officers from the nobility in the army; he foresaw that they would not + stop at these measures; that soon he and his companions of fate would be + accused and charged with treason, as had been already done to General + Custine, and to so many others who had paid with their lives their tried + loyalty to the republic. He wanted to anticipate the storm, and sent in + his resignation. As the Convention left his petition unanswered, he + renewed it, and as it remained still ineffective, he gladly, forced to + this measure by sickness, transferred his command to General Landremont. + The Convention had then to grant him leave of absence, and, as it + maintained him in his rank, they ordered him back to Paris. + </p> + <p> + At last Josephine saw her husband again, for whom during the last few + months she had suffered so much anxiety and pain. At last she was enabled + to bring to her children the father for whom every evening they had prayed + God to guard him from foes abroad and from foes at home. As a gift sent + again by Heaven, she received her husband and entreated him to save + himself with his family from revolution’s yawning abyss, which was ready + to swallow them all, and to go away with his own into a foreign land, as + his brother had done, who for some months past had been in Coblentz with + the Prince d’Artois. + </p> + <p> + But Alexandre de Beanharnais rejected with something like anger these + tearful supplications of his wife. He was not blinded to the dangers which + threatened him, but he wanted to meet them bravely; true to the oath he + had taken to the republic and to his country, he wished as a dutiful son + to remain near her, even if his allegiance had to be paid with his death. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, on the bosom of her husband, wept hot, burning tears as he + communicated to her his irrevocable decision not to leave France, but in + the depths of her heart she experienced a noble satisfaction to find her + husband so heroic and so brave, and, offering him her hand, said with + tears in her eyes: + </p> + <p> + “It is well—we remain; and if we must go to the scaffold, we will at + least die together.” + </p> + <p> + The general, with his wife and children, retired to his small property, + Ferte-Beauharnais, where he longed to obtain rest during a few happy + months of quietude. + </p> + <p> + But the fearful storms which had agitated France in her innermost life, + now raged so violently that each household, each family, trembled; there + was neither peace nor rest in the home nor in the hearts of men. + </p> + <p> + The Convention, threatened from outside by failures and defeats—for + the capture of Mayence by the Prussians and Austrians had been followed by + the capture of Toulon in September by the English—the Convention + wanted to consolidate at least its internal authority, and to terrify by + severe measures those who, on account of the misfortunes on the frontiers, + might hope for a fresh change of affairs in the interior, and who might + help it to pass. + </p> + <p> + Consequently the Convention issued a decree ordering all dismissed or + destitute soldiers to return in four-and-twenty hours to their respective + municipalities, under pain of ten years in chains, and at the same time + forbade them to enter Paris or to approach the capital nearer than ten + leagues. + </p> + <p> + A second decree ordered the formation of a revolutionary army in Paris, to + which was assigned the duty of carrying out the decrees of the Convention. + </p> + <p> + Finally a third decree, which appeared on the 17th of September, ordered + the arrest and punishment of all suspected persons. + </p> + <p> + This decree thus characterized the suspected ones: “All those who, by + their conduct, their relations, their discourses, their writings, had + shown themselves the adherents of tyranny, of federalism, the enemies of + liberty, much more all the ex-nobles, men, women, fathers, brothers, sons + or daughters, sisters or brothers, or agents of the migrated ones, all who + had not invariably exhibited and proved their adherence to the + revolution.” + </p> + <p> + With this decree the days of terror had reached their deepest gloom; with + this decree began the wild, bloody hunting down of aristocrats and + ci-devants; then began suspicions, accusations which needed no evidence to + bring the accused to the guillotine; then were renewed the dragonnades of + the days of Louis XIV., only that now, instead of Protestants, the nobles + were hunted down, and hunted down to death. The night of the St. + Bartholomew, the night of the murderess Catharine de Medicis and of her + mad son Charles IX., found now in France its cruel and bloody repetition; + only this night of horror was prolonged during the day, and shrank not + back from the light. + </p> + <p> + The sun beamed upon the pools of blood which flowed through the streets of + Paris, and packs of ferocious dogs in large numbers lay in the streets, + and fed upon this blood, which imparted to these once tamed creatures + their natural wildness. The sun beamed on the scaffold, which, like a + threatening monster, lifted itself upon the Place de la Revolution, and + the sun beamed upon the horrible axe, which every day out off so many + noble heads, and ever glittering, ever menacing, rose up from the midst of + blood and death. + </p> + <p> + The sun also shone upon the day in which Marie Antoinette, like her + husband, ascended the scaffold, to rest at last in the grave from all her + dishonor and from the agonies of the last years. + </p> + <p> + This day was the 16th of October, 1793. For the last four months, Marie + Antoinette had longed for this day as for a long-expected bliss; four + months ago she had been led from the prison of the Temple into the + Conciergerie, and she knew that the prisoners of the Conciergerie only + left it to obtain the freedom which men do not give, but which God gives + to the suffering ones, the freedom of death. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette longed for this liberty, and for this deliverance of + death. How distant behind were the days of happiness, of joyous youth, far + behind in infinite legendary distance! How long since this tall, grave + figure, with its proud and yet affable countenance, had lost all + similarity to the charming Queen Marie Antoinette, around whom had + fluttered the genii of beauty, of youth, of love, of happiness; who once + in Trianon had represented the idyl of a pastoral queen; who, in the + exuberance of joy, had visited in disguise the public opera-ball; who + imagined herself so secure amid the French people as to believe she could + dispense with the protection of “Madame Etiquette;” who then was applauded + by all France with jubilant acclamations, and who now was persecuted with + mad anger! + </p> + <p> + No, the queen of that day, Marie Antoinette, who, in the golden halls of + Versailles and of the Tuileries, received the homage of all France, and + who, with smiling grace and face radiant with happiness, responded to all + this homage; she had no resemblance with Louis Capet’s widow, who now + stands before the tribunal of the revolution, and gravely, firmly gives + her answers to the proposed questions. + </p> + <p> + She has also made her toilet for this day; but how different is this + toilet of the Widow Capet from that which once Marie Antoinette had worn + to be admired! + </p> + <p> + Then could Marie Antoinette, the frivolous, fortunate daughter of bliss, + shut herself up in her boudoir for long hours with her confidante the + milliner, Madame Bertier, to devise some new ball-dress, some new fichu, + some new ornament for her robes; then could Leonard, for this queen with + her wondrous blond hair, tax all the wealth of his science and of his + imagination; to invent continually new coiffures and new head-dresses + wherewith to adorn the beautiful head of the Queen Marie Antoinette, on + whose towering curls clustered tufts of white plumes; or else diminutive + men-of-war unfurled the net-work of their sails; or else, for variety’s + sake, on that royal head was arranged a garden, a parterre adorned with + flowers and fruits, with butterflies and birds of paradise. + </p> + <p> + The Widow Capet needs no milliner now; she needs no friseur now for her + toilette. Her tall, slim figure is draped in a black woollen dress, which + the republic at her request has granted her to mourn her beheaded husband; + her neck and shoulders, once the admiration of France, are now covered + with a white muslin kerchief, which in pity Bault, her attendant at the + jail, has given her. Her hair is uncovered, and falls in long natural + curls on either side of her transparent, blanched cheeks. This hair needs + no powder now; the long sleepless nights, the anxious days, have covered + it with their powder forever, and the thirty-eight-year-old widow of Louis + Capet wears on her head the gray hairs of a seventy-year-old woman. + </p> + <p> + In this toilet, Marie Antoinette stands before the tribunal of the + revolution from the 6th to the 13th day of October. There is nothing royal + about her, nothing but her look and the proud attitude of her figure. + </p> + <p> + And the people who fill the galleries in closely-packed masses, and who + weary not to gaze on the queen in her humiliation, in her toilet of + anguish, the people claim constantly that Marie Antoinette will rise from + her rush-woven seat; that she will allow herself to be stared at by these + masses of people, whom curiosity and not compassion have brought there. + </p> + <p> + Once, as at the call from the public in the galleries, she rose up, the + queen sighed: “Ah, will not the people soon be tired of my sufferings?” + [Footnote: Marie Antoinette’s own words.—See Goncourt, “Histoire de + Marie Antoinette,” p. 404.] + </p> + <p> + Another time her dry, blanched lips murmured, “I thirst.” But no one near + her dares have compassion on this sigh of agony from the queen; each looks + embarrassed at his neighbor; not one dares give a glass of water to the + thirsty woman. + </p> + <p> + One of the gendarmes has at last the courage to do so, and Marie + Antoinette thanks him with a look which brings tears in the eyes of the + gendarme, and which may perchance cause his death to-morrow under the + guillotine as a traitor! + </p> + <p> + The gendarmes who guard the queen have alone the courage to show pity! + </p> + <p> + One night, as she is led from the hall of trial to her prison, Marie + Antoinette becomes so exhausted, so overpowered, that staggering, she + murmurs, “I can see no longer! I can go no farther! I cannot move!” + </p> + <p> + One of the gendarmes walking alongside of her offers his arm, and + supported by it Marie Antoinette totters up the three stone steps which + lead into the prison. + </p> + <p> + At last, at four o’clock in the morning, on the 15th of August, the jury + have given their verdict. It runs: “Death!—execution by the + guillotine!” + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette has heard the verdict with unmoved composure, whilst the + noise from the excited crowd in the galleries is suddenly hushed as by a + magic spell, and even the faces of the infuriated fish women turn pale! + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette alone has remained calm; grave and cool she rises from + her seat and herself opens the balustrade to leave the hall and return to + her prison. + </p> + <p> + And then at last, on the morning of the 16th of October, her sorrows will + end, and Marie Antoinette can find refuge in the grave! Her soul is almost + joyous and serene; she has suffered so much, and for her to sink into + death is truly blessedness! + </p> + <p> + She has passed the undisturbed hours of the night in writing to her + sister-in-law, Madame Elizabeth, and this letter is also the queen’s + testament. But the widow of Louis Capet has no riches, no treasures, no + property to will; she has nothing left which belongs to her—nothing + but her love, her tears, her farewell salutations. These she leaves behind + to all those who have loved her. She takes leave of her relatives, her + brothers and sisters, and cries out to them a farewell. + </p> + <p> + “I had friends,” she continues; “the thought of being forever separated + from them, and your grief for my death, are my deepest sorrow; you will at + least know that to the last moment I have remembered you.” + </p> + <p> + Then, when Marie Antoinette has finished this letter, some of whose + characters here and there are disfigured by her tears, she thinks of + leaving to her children a last token of remembrance—one which the + executioner’s hand has not desecrated. + </p> + <p> + The only ornament which remains is her long hair, whose silver-gray locks + are the tearful history of her sufferings. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette with her own hands despoils herself of this last + ornament; she cuts off her long hair behind the head, so as to leave it as + a last token to her children, to her relatives and friends. Then, after + having taken her spiritual farewell of life, she prepares herself for the + last great ceremony of her existence, for death. + </p> + <p> + She feels exhausted, weary unto death, and she strengthens herself for + this last toilsome journey, that she may worthily pass through it. + </p> + <p> + Marie Antoinette needs food, and with courageous mind she eats a chicken’s + wing which has been brought to her. After having eaten, she makes her last + toilet, the toilet of death. + </p> + <p> + The wife of the jailer, at the queen’s request, gives her one of her own + chemises, and Marie Antoinette puts it on. Then she clothes herself with + the garments which she has worn during her days of trial before the + tribunal of the revolution, only over the black woollen dress, which she + has often mended and patched with her own hand, she puts on a mantle of + white needlework. Around her neck she ties a small plain kerchief of white + muslin, and, as it is not allowed her to mount the scaffold with uncovered + head, she puts on it the round linen hood which the peasant-women used to + wear. Black stockings cover her feet, and over them she draws shoes of + black woollen stuff. + </p> + <p> + Her toilet is now ended—earthly things have passed away! Ready to + meet death, the queen lays herself down on her bed and sleeps. + </p> + <p> + She still sleeps when she is notified that a priest is there, ready to + come in, if she will confess. + </p> + <p> + But Marie Antoinette has already unveiled her heart to God; she will have + none of these priests of reason, whom the republic has ordained, after + having exiled or murdered with the guillotine the priests of the Church. + </p> + <p> + “As I cannot do as I please,” she has written to Madame Elizabeth, in her + farewell letter, “so must I endure it if a priest is sent to me; but I now + declare that I will tell him not a word, that I will consider him entirely + as a stranger to me.” + </p> + <p> + And Marie Antoinette held her word. She forbids not the priest Girard to + come in, but she answers in the negative when he asks her if she will + receive from him the consolations of religion. + </p> + <p> + She paces her small cell to and fro, to warm herself, for her feet are + stiff with cold. As seven o’clock strikes, the door opens. + </p> + <p> + It is the executioner of Paris, Samson, who enters. + </p> + <p> + A slight tremor runs through the queen’s frame. “You come very early, + sir,” murmurs she, “could you not delay somewhat?” + </p> + <p> + As Samson replies in the negative, Marie Antoinette assumes again a calm, + cold attitude. She drinks without any reluctance the cup of chocolate + which has been brought to her from a neighboring cafe. Proudly, calmly, + she allows her hands to be bound with strong ropes behind her back. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock she finally leaves her room to descend the corridor, and + to mount into the wagon which waits for her before the gate of the + Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + No one guides her on the way; no one bids her a last farewell; no one + shows a sympathizing or sad countenance to the departing one. + </p> + <p> + Alone, between two rows of gendarmes posted on both sides of the corridor, + the queen walks forward; behind her is Samson, holding in his hand the end + of the rope; the priest and the two assistants of the executioner follow + him. + </p> + <p> + On the path of Death—such is the suite of the queen, the daughter of + an emperor! + </p> + <p> + Perchance at this hour thousands were on their knees to offer to God their + heart-felt prayers for Marie Antoinette, whom in the silence of the soul + they still call “the queen;” perchance many thousand compassionate hearts + pour out warm tears of sympathy for her who now ascends into the miserable + wagon, and sits on a plank which ropes have made firm to both sides of the + vehicle. But those who pray and weep have retired into the solitude of + their rooms, for God alone must receive their sighs and see their tears. + The eyes which follow the queen on her last journey must not weep; the + words which are shouted at her must betray no compassion. + </p> + <p> + Paris knows that this is the hour of the queen’s execution, and the + Parisian crowd is ready, it is waiting. In the streets, in the windows of + the houses, on the roofs, the people have stationed themselves in enormous + masses; they fill the whole Place de la Revolution with their dark, + destructive forms. + </p> + <p> + Now resound the drums of the National Guard posted before the + Conciergerie. The large white horse, which draws the chariot in which + Marie Antoinette sits backward, at the side of the priest, is driven + onward by the man who swings on its back. Behind her in the wagon is + Samson and his assistants. + </p> + <p> + The queen’s face is white; all blood has left her cheeks and lips, but her + eyes are red; they have wept so much, unfortunate queen! She weeps not + now. Not one tear dims her eye, which pensively and calmly soars above the + crowd, then is lifted up to the very roofs of the houses, then again is + slowly lowered, and seems to stare over the human heads away into infinite + distance. + </p> + <p> + Calm and pensive as the eye is the queen’s countenance, her lips are + nearly closed, no nervous movement on her face tells whether she suffers, + whether she feels, whether she notices those tens of thousands of eyes + which are fixed on her, cold, curious, sarcastic! And yet Marie Antoinette + sees every thing! She sees yonder woman who lifts up her child; she sees + how this child with his tiny hands sends a kiss to the queen! Suddenly a + nervous agitation passes over the queen’s features, her lips tremble, and + her eyes are obscured with a tear! This first, this single token of human + sympathy has revived the heart of the queen and awakened her from her + torpor. + </p> + <p> + But the people are bent upon this, that Marie Antoinette shall not reach + the end of her journey with this last comfort of pity. They press on, + howling and shouting, scorning and jubilant, nearer and nearer to the + wagon; they sing sarcastic songs on Madame Veto, they clap hands, and + point at her with the finger of scorn. + </p> + <p> + She, however, is calm; her look, cold and indifferent, runs over the + crowd; only once it flames up with a last angry flash as she passes by the + Palais Royal, where Philippe Egalite, the ex-Duke d’Orleans, resides, as + she reads the inscription which he had placed at the gate of his palace. + </p> + <p> + At noon the chariot reaches at last its destination. It stops at the foot + of the scaffold, and Marie Antoinette alights from the wagon, and then + calm and erect ascends the steps of the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + Her lips have not opened once on this awful journey; they now have no word + of complaint, of farewell! The only farewell which she has yet to say on + earth is told by her look—by a look which is slowly directed yonder + to the Tuileries—it is the farewell to past memories—it + deepens the pallor on the cheeks, it opens her lips to a painful sigh. She + then bows her head—a momentary, breathless silence follows. Samson + lifts up the white head, which once had been the head of the Queen of + France, and the people cry and shout, “Long live the republic!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE ARREST. + </h2> + <p> + Uninterruptedly had the guillotine for the last three months of the year + 1793 continued its destructive work of murder, and the noblest and + worthiest heads had fallen under this reaper of Death. No personal merit, + no nobility of character, no age, no youth, could hope to escape the + death-instrument of the revolution when a noble name stood up as accuser. + Before this accuser every service was considered as nothing; it was enough + to be an aristocrat, a ci-devant, to be suspected, to be dragged as a + criminal before the tribunal of the revolution, and to be condemned. + </p> + <p> + The execution of the queen was followed by that of the Girondists; and + this brilliant array of noble and great men was followed in the next month + by names no less noble, no less great. It was an infuriated chase of the + aristocrats as well as of the officers, of all the military persons who, + in the unfortunate days of Toulon and of Mayence, had been in the army, + and who had been dismissed, or whose resignation had been accepted. + </p> + <p> + The aristocrats were tracked in their most secret recesses, and not only + were they punished, but also those who dared screen them from the avenging + hand of the republic. The officers were recognized under every disguise, + and the very fact that they had disguised themselves or remained silent as + to their true character was a crime great enough to be punished with the + guillotine. + </p> + <p> + More than twenty generals were imprisoned during the last months of the + year 1793, and many more paid with their lives for crimes which they had + never committed, and which had existence only in the heated imagination of + their accusers. Thus had General Houchard fallen; he was followed in the + first days of the new year of 1794 by the Generals Luckner and Biron. + </p> + <p> + Alexandre de Beauharnais had served under Luckner, he had been Biron’s + adjutant, he had been united with General Houchard in the unfortunate + attempt to relieve Mayence. It was therefore natural that he should be + noticed and espied. Besides which, he was an aristocrat, a relative of + many of the emigres, the brother of the Count de Beauharnais, who was now + residing in Coblentz with the Count d’Artois, and it had not been + forgotten what an important part Alexandre de Beauharnais had played in + the National Assembly; it was well known that he belonged to the moderate + party, that he had been the friend of the Girondists. + </p> + <p> + Had the Convention wished to forget it, the informers were there to remind + them of it. Alexandre de Beauharnais was denounced as suspected, and this + denunciation was followed, in the first days of January, by an arrest. He + was taken to Paris, and at first shut up in the Luxemburg, where already + many of his companions-in-arms were incarcerated. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was not in Ferte-Beauharnais when the emissaries of the republic + came to arrest her husband. She was just then in Paris, whither she had + gone to seek protection and assistance for Alexandre at the hands of + influential acquaintances; in Paris she learned the arrest of her husband. + </p> + <p> + The misfortune, which she had so long expected and foreseen, was now upon + her and ready to crush her and the future of her children. Her husband was + arrested—that is to say, he was condemned to die. + </p> + <p> + At this thought Josephine rose up like a lioness; the indolence, the + dreamy quietude of the creole, had suddenly vanished, and Josephine was + now a resolute, energetic woman, anxious to risk every thing, to try every + thing, so as to save her husband, the father of her children. She now knew + no timidity, no trembling, no fear, no horror; every thing in her was + decision of purpose; keen, daring action. Letters, visits, petitions, and + even personal supplications, every thing was tried; there was no + humiliation before which she shrank. For long hours she sat in the + anterooms of the tribunal of the revolution, of the ministers who, however + much they despised the aristocrats, imitated their manners, and made the + people wait in the vestibule, even as the ministers of the tyrant had + done; with tears, with all the eloquence of love, she entreated those men + of blood and terror to give her back her husband, or at least not to + condemn him before he had been accused, and to furnish him with the means + of defence. + </p> + <p> + But those new lords and rulers of France had no heart for compassion; + Robespierre, Marat, Danton, could not be moved by the tears which a wife + could shed for an accused husband. They had already witnessed so much + weeping, listened to so many complaints, to so many cries of distress, + their eyes were not open for such things, their ears heard not. + </p> + <p> + France was diseased, and only by drawing away the bad blood could she be + restored to health, could she be made sound, could she rise up again with + the strength of youth! And Marat, Danton, Robespierre, were the physicians + who were healing France, who were restoring her to health by thus horribly + opening her veins. Marat and Danton murdered from bloodthirsty hatred, + from misanthropy and vengeance; Robespierre murdered through principle, + from the settled fanatical conviction, that France was lost if all the old + corrupt blood was not cleansed away from her veins, so as to replenish + them with youthful, vitalizing blood. + </p> + <p> + Robespierre was therefore inexorable, and Robespierre now ruled over + France! He was the dictator to whom every thing had to bow; he was at the + head of the tribunal of revolution; he daily signed hundreds of + death-warrants; and this selfsame man, who once in Arras had resigned his + office of judge because his hand could not be induced to sign the + death-warrant of a convicted criminal [Footnote: See “Maximilian + Robespierre,” by Theodore Mundt, vol. i.]—this man, who shed tears + over a tame dove which the shot of a hunter had killed, could, with heart + unmoved, with composed look, sit for long hours near the guillotine on the + tribune of the revolution, and gaze with undimmed eyes on the heads of his + victims falling under the axe. + </p> + <p> + He was now at the summit of his power; France lay bleeding, trembling at + his feet; fear had silenced even his enemies; no one dared touch the + dreaded man whose mere contact was death; whose look, when coldly, calmly + fixed on the face of any man, benumbed his heart as if he had read his + sentence of death in the blue eyes of Robespierre. + </p> + <p> + At the side of Robespierre sat the terrorists Fouquier-Tinville and Marat, + to whom murder was a delight, blood-shedding a joy, who with sarcastic + pleasure listened unmoved to the cries, to the tearful prayers of mothers, + wives, children, of those sentenced to death, and who fed on their tears + and on their despair. + </p> + <p> + With such men at the head of affairs it was natural that the reign of + terror should still be increasing in power, and that with it the number of + the captives in the prisons should increase. + </p> + <p> + In the month of January, 1794, the list of the incarcerated within the + prisons of Paris ran up to the number of 4,659; in the month of February + the number rose up to 5,892; in the beginning of April to 7,541; and at + the end of the same month it was reckoned that there were in Paris eight + thousand prisoners. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire de la Revolution + Francaise,” vol. vi., p. 41] + </p> + <p> + The greater the number of prisoners, the more zealous was the tribunal of + the revolution to get rid of them; and with satisfaction these judges of + blood saw the new improvements made in the guillotine, and which not only + caused the machine to work faster, but also prevented the axe from losing + its edge too soon by the sundering of so many necks. + </p> + <p> + “It works well,” exclaimed Fouquier-Tinville, triumphantly; “to-day we + have fifty sentenced. The heads fall like poppy-heads!” + </p> + <p> + And these fifty heads falling like poppy-heads, were not enough for his + bloodthirstiness. + </p> + <p> + “It must work better still,” cried he; “in the next decade, I must have at + least four hundred and fifty poppy-heads!” + </p> + <p> + And then, as if inspired by a joyous and happy thought, his gloomy + countenance became radiant with a grinning laughter, and, rubbing his + hands with delight, he continued: “Yes, I must have four hundred and + fifty! Then, if we work on so perseveringly, we will soon write over our + prison-gates, ‘House to let!’” [Footnote: “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine.”] + </p> + <p> + They worked on perseveringly, and the vehicles which carried the condemned + to execution rolled every morning with a fresh freight through the streets + of Paris, where the guillotine, with its glaring axe, awaited them. + </p> + <p> + The month of April, as already said, had brought the number of prisoners + in Paris to eight thousand; the month of April had therefore more + executions to engrave with its bloody pen into the annals of history. On + the 20th of April fell on the Place de la Revolution the heads of fourteen + members of the ex-Parliament of Paris; the next day followed the Duke de + Villeroy, the Admiral d’Estaing, the former Minister of War Latour du Pin, + the Count de Bethune, the President de Nicolai. One day after, the + well-laden wagon drove from the Conciergerie to the Place de la + Revolution; in it were three members of the Constituent Assembly, and to + have belonged to it was the only crime they were accused of. Near these + three sat the aged Malesherbes, with his sister; the Marquis de + Chateaubriand, with his wife; the Duchess de Grammont, and Du Chatelet. It + will be seen that the turn for women had now come; for those women who + were now led to the execution had committed no other crime than to be the + wives or the relatives of emigrants or of accused persons, than to bear + names which had shone for centuries in the history of France. + </p> + <p> + Josephine also had an ancient aristocratic name; she also was related to + the migrated ones, the wife of an accused, of a prisoner! And she wearied + the tribunal of the revolution constantly with petitions, with visits, + with complaints. They were tired of these molestations, and it was so + easy, so convenient to shield one’s self against them! There was nothing + else to do but to arrest Josephine; for once a prisoner, she could no + longer—in anterooms, where she would wait for hours; in the street + before the house-door, where she would stand, despite rains and winds—she + could no longer trouble the rulers of France, and beseech them with tears + and prayers for her husband’s freedom. The prisoner could no more write + petitions, or move heaven and earth for her husband’s sake. + </p> + <p> + The Viscountess de Beauharnais was arrested. On the 20th of April, as she + happened to be at the proper authority’s office to obtain a pass according + to the new law, which ordered all ci-devants to leave Paris in ten days, + Josephine was arrested and led into the Convent of the Carmelites, which + for two years had served as a prison for the bloody republic, and from + which so many of its victims had issued to mount the wagon which led them + to the guillotine. + </p> + <p> + Amid this wretchedness there was one sweet joy. Alexandre de Beauharnais + had no sooner heard of the arrest of his wife, than he asked as a favor + from the tribunal of the revolution to be removed into the same prison + where his wife was. In an incomprehensible fit of merciful humor his + prayer was granted; he was transferred to the Convent of the Carmelites, + and if the husband and wife could not share the same cell, yet they were + within the same walls, and could daily (through the turnkeys, who had to + be bribed by all manner of means, by promises, by gold, as much as could + be gathered together among the prisoners) hear the news. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was united to her husband. She received daily from him news and + messages; she could often, in the hours when the prisoners in separate + detachments made their promenades in the yard and in the garden, meet + Alexandre, reach him her hand, whisper low words of trust, of hope, and + speak with him of Eugene and Hortense, of these dear children who, now + deserted by their parents, could hope for protection and safety only from + the faithfulness and love of their governess, Madame Lanoy. The thought of + these darling ones of her heart excited and troubled Josephine, and all + the pride and courage with which she had armed her heart melted into tears + of anxiety and into longings for her deserted children. + </p> + <p> + But Madame Lanoy with the most faithful solicitude watched over the + abandoned ones; she had once sworn to Josephine that if the calamity, + which Josephine had constantly anticipated, should fall upon her and upon + her husband, she would be to Hortense and Eugene a second mother; she + would care for them and protect them as if they were her own children. And + Madame Lanoy kept her promise. + </p> + <p> + To place them beyond the dangers which their very name made imminent, and + also perhaps to give by means of the children evidence of the patriotic + sentiments of the parents, Madame Lanoy left with the children the + viscount’s house, where they had hitherto resided, and occupied with both + of them a small shabby house, where she established herself as seamstress. + The little eleven-year-old Hortense, the daughter of the Citizeness + Beauharnais, was now the assistant of the Citizeness Lanoy, at the trade + of seamstress. Eugene was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker; a leather apron + was put on, and then with a plank under his arm, and carrying a plane in + his hand, he went through the streets to the workshop of the + cabinet-maker, and every one lauded the patriotic sentiments of the + Citizeness Lanoy, who tried to educate the brood of the ex-aristocrats + into orderly and moral beings. + </p> + <p> + Eugene and Hortense fell rapidly and understandingly into the plan of + their faithful governess; they transformed themselves in their language, + in their dress, in their whole being and appearance, into little + republicans, full of genuine patriotism. Like their cousin, Emile de + Beauharnais, whose mother (the wife of the elder brother of the Viscount + de Beauharnais) had already for a long time languished in prison, they + attended the festivals which had for its object the glorification of the + republic, and, alongside of the Citizeness Lanoy, the little milliner + Hortense followed the procession of her quarter of the city, perhaps to + awaken thereby the good-will of the authorities in favor of her imprisoned + parents. + </p> + <p> + Then, when Madame Lanoy thought this good-will had been gained, she made a + step further, and undertook to have the children present to the Convention + a petition for their parents. This petition ran thus: + </p> + <p> + “Two innocent children appeal to you, fellow-citizens, for the freedom of + their dear mother—their mother against whom no reproach can be made + but the misfortune of being born in a class from which, as she has proven, + she ever felt completely estranged, for she has ever surrounded herself + with the best patriots, the most distinguished men of the Mountain. After + she had on the 26th of Germinal requested a pass in order to obey the law, + she was arrested on the evening of that day without knowing the cause. + Citizen representatives, you cannot be guilty of oppressing innocence, + patriotism, and virtue. Give back to us unfortunate children our life. Our + youth is not made for suffering.” Signed: EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS, aged twelve + years, and HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS, aged eleven years. [Footnote: “Histoire + de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Aubenas.] + </p> + <p> + To this complaint of two deserted children no more attention was paid than + to the cries of the dove which the hawk carries away in its claws, but + perhaps the innocent touching words of the petition had awakened + compassion in the heart of some father. + </p> + <p> + It is true no answer was given to the petition of the children, but the + Citizeness Lanoy was allowed to take the children of the accused twice a + week into the reception-room of the Carmelite Convent, that there they + might see and speak to their mother. + </p> + <p> + This was a sweet comfort, an unhoped-for joy, as well to Josephine as to + her husband; for if he was not permitted to come into the lower room and + see the children, yet he now saw them through the eyes of his wife, and + through her he received the wishes of their tender affection. + </p> + <p> + What happiness for Josephine, who loved her children with all the + unrestrained fondness of a Creole! what happiness to see her Eugene, her + Hortense, and to be permitted to speak to them! How much they had to say + one to another, how much to communicate one to the other! + </p> + <p> + It is true much had to be passed in silence if they would not excite the + anger of the turnkey, who was always present at the meeting of the + children with their mother. Strict orders had been given that Josephine + should never whisper one word to the children, or speak to them of the + events of the day, of what was going on beyond the prison walls. The least + infringement of this rule was to be punished by debarring the children + from having any further conversation with their mother. + </p> + <p> + And yet they had so much to say; they needed her advice so much, so as to + know what future steps they might take to accomplish their mother’s + freedom! They had so much to tell to Josephine about relatives and + friends, and above all so much to say about what was going on outside of + the prison! But how bring her news? how speak to their mother? how receive + her message in such a way that the jailer’s ears could not know what was + said? + </p> + <p> + Love is full of invention. It turns every thing into subserviency to its + end. Love once turned the dove into a carrier; love made Josephine’s + children find out a new mail-carrier—it made them invent the lapdog + mail. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, like all Creoles, had, besides her love for flowers, botany, + and birds, a great fondness for dogs. Never since the earliest days of her + childhood had Josephine been seen in her room, at the promenade, or in her + carriage, without one of these faithful friends and companions of man, + which share with the lords of creation all their good qualities and + virtues, without being burdened with their failings. The love, the + faithfulness, the cunningness of dogs are virtues, wherewith they + successfully rival man, and the dogs boast only of one quality which + amongst men is considered a despicable vice, namely, the canine humbleness + which these animals practise, without egotism, without calculation, whilst + man practises it only when his interest and his selfishness make it seem + advantageous. + </p> + <p> + Two years before, a friend of Josephine had given her a small, young model + of the then fashionable breed of dogs, a small lapdog, and at once + Josephine had made a pet of the little animal, which had been recommended + to her as the progeny of a rare and genuine race of lapdogs. It is true + the little Fortune had not fulfilled what had been promised; he had not + grown up exactly into a model of beauty and loveliness. With small feet, a + long body of a pale yellow rather than red, a thick, double, flat nose, + this lapdog had nothing of its race but the black face, and the tail in + the shape of a corkscrew. Besides all this, he was undoubtedly of a surly, + quarrelsome disposition, and he preferred the indolent and ease of his + cushion to either a promenade with Josephine or to a game with her + children. + </p> + <p> + But since Josephine was no more there, since her beautiful hands no more + presented him his food, a change had come over Fortune’s character; he had + awakened from the effeminacy of happiness to full activity. The children + had but to say, “We are going to mamma,” and at once Fortune would spring + up from his cushion with a cheerful bark, and run out into the streets, + describing circles and performing joyous leaps. Fortune, as soon as the + reception-room of the prison was opened, was always the first to rush in, + barking loudly at the jailer; then, when his spite was over, to run with + all the signs of passionate tenderness toward his mistress; then he would + surround her with caresses, and leap, bark, and whine, until she noticed + him, until she should have kissed and embraced the children, and then + taken him up in her arms. + </p> + <p> + But one day, as the door of the reception-room opened, and Eugene and + Hortense entered with Madame Lanoy, Fortune’s loud barking trumpet sounded + not, and he sprang not forward toward Josephine. He walked on gravely with + measured steps at the side of Madame Lanoy, who led him with a string + which she had fastened to his collar. With important, thoughtful mien, he + gazed resignedly and gravely at his mistress, and even for his hated foe + the jailer he had but a dull growl, which he soon repressed. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was somewhat alarmed at this change in Fortune’s demeanor, and + after she had welcomed, taken to her bosom and kissed her darling + children, after she had saluted the good Madame Lanoy, she inquired why + Fortune was so sad and why he was led as a captive. + </p> + <p> + “Because he is so wild and unruly, mamma,” said Eugene, with a peculiar + smile, “because he wants always to be the first to salute you, and because + he barks so loud that we cannot possibly for some time hear what our dear + mamma has to say.” + </p> + <p> + “And then, in the street, he is so wicked and troublesome,” cried + Hortense, with eagerness, “and he always begins quarrelling and fighting + with every dog which passes by, and we must stand there and wait for him + when we are so anxious to see our dear mamma.” + </p> + <p> + “For all these reasons,” resumed Madame Lanoy, with slow, solemn + intonation, “for all these reasons we have thought it necessary to chain + Fortune and to tighten up his collar.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have done quite well, citizeness,” growled the turnkey, “for I + had already thought of silencing forever the abominable lapdog if he again + barked at me so.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine said nothing, but the peculiar smile she had noticed on her + children’s face had passed, at the words of Madame Lanoy, over Josephine’s + radiant countenance, and she now with her pet names called Fortune to her, + to press him to her heart, to pat him, and by all these caresses to make + amends for his having his collar somewhat tightened. + </p> + <p> + But whilst thus petting him, and tenderly smoothing down his sleek fur, + her slim fingers quickly and cautiously passed under the wide collar of + Fortune. Then her eyes were rapidly directed toward the jailer. He was + engaged in animated conversation with Madame Lanoy, who knew how to make + him talk, by inquiring after the health of his little sick daughter. + </p> + <p> + A second time Josephine’s fingers were passed under Fortune’s collar—for + she had well understood the words of Madame Lanoy—with a woman’s + keen instinct she understood why Fortune’s collar had been drawn closer + about him. She had felt the thin, closely-folded paper, which was tied up + with the string in the dog’s collar, and she drew it out rapidly, adroitly + to hide it in her hand. She then called Hortense and Eugene, and whilst + she talked with them, she slowly and carefully, under pretext of adjusting + more closely the kerchief round her neck, secreted the paper in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + The jailer had seen nothing; he was telling Madame Lanoy, with all the + pride of a kind father, that all the prisoners were anxious about his + little Eugenie; that all, more than once a day, inquired how it fared with + the little one; that she was the pet of the prisoners, who were so + delighted to have the child with them, and for long hours to jest and play + with her. Unfortunate captives, who nattered the child, and feigned love + for it, so as to move the father’s heart, and instil into it a little + compassion for their misfortune! + </p> + <p> + When Eugene and Hortense came the next time with their faithful Lanoy, + Fortune was again led by the string as a prisoner, and this time Josephine + was still more affectionate than before. She not only welcomed him at his + entrance, and lifted him up in her arms, but she was yet, if possible, + more affectionate toward him at the time of departure, and embraced him, + and tried if the collar had not been buckled on too tightly, if the string + which was tied round it did not hurt him too much. And whilst she examined + this, Eugene was telling the jailer that he was now a worthy apprentice of + a cabinet-maker, and that he hoped one day to be a useful citizen of the + republic. The jailer was listening to him with a complacent smile, and had + no suspicion that at this moment Josephine’s cunning fingers were making + sure with the string under the collar the note in which she gave an answer + to the other note that she had before found under the collar of Fortune. + [Footnote: “Souvenirs d’un Sexagenaire,” par M.L. Arnould, vol. iii., p. + 3.] + </p> + <p> + From this day, Josephine knew every thing of importance in Paris; from + this time she could point out to her children the means to pursue so as to + win to their parents influential and powerful friends, so that they might + one day be delivered from their captivity. Fortune was love’s messenger + between Josephine and her children; a beam of happiness had penetrated + both cells, where lived Alexandre de Beauharnais and Josephine, and they + owed this gleam only to the lapdog mail. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. IN PRISON. + </h2> + <p> + Since France had become a democratic republic, since the differences in + rank were abolished, and liberty, equality, and fraternity alone + prevailed, the aristocracy was either beyond the frontiers of France or + else in the prisons. Outside of the prison were but citoyens and + citoyennes; inside of the prison were yet dukes and duchesses, counts and + countesses, viscounts and viscountesses; there, behind locks and bars, the + aristocracy was represented in its most glorious and high-sounding names. + </p> + <p> + And there also, within these walls, was the proud, strict dame, whom Marie + Antoinette had once, to her misfortune, driven away from the Tuileries, + and who had not been permitted to possess a single foot of ground in all + France—there, within the prison with the aristocrats, lived also + Madame Etiquette. She had to leave the Tuileries with the nobility, and + with the nobility she had entered into the prisons of the Conciergerie and + of the Carmelite Convent. There she ruled with the same authority and with + the same gravity as once in happier days she had done in the king’s + palace. + </p> + <p> + The republic had mixed together the prisoners without any distinction, and + in the hall, where every morning they gathered together to attend to the + roll-call of the condemned who were to report for the guillotine; in the + narrow rooms and cells, where they passed the rest of the day, the + republic had made no distinction between all these inmates of the prison, + dukes and simple knights, duchesses and baronesses, princesses of the + blood and country nobility of inferior degree. But etiquette was there to + remedy this unseemliness of fate and to re-establish the natural order of + things—etiquette, which had enacted rules and laws for the halls of + kings, enforced them also in the halls of prisons. Only for the ladies of + the most ancient nobility, the duchesses and princesses of the blood, in + the prison-rooms, as once in the king’s halls, the small stool (tabouret) + was reserved, and they were privileged to occupy the rush-bottomed seats + which were in the prisons, and which now replaced the tabouret. No lady of + inferior rank would consent to sit down in their presence unless these + ladies of superior rank had expressly requested and entitled their + inferior companions of misfortune to do so. When, at the appointed hour, + the halls were abandoned for the general promenade in the yards of the + Conciergerie, or in the small cloistered gardens of the Carmelites, this + recreation was preceded by a ceremony which shortened its already short + hour by at least ten minutes: the ladies and the gentlemen, according to + their order, rank, and nobility, placed themselves in two rows on either + side of the outer door, and between them passed on first in ceremonial + order of rank, as at a court-festival, the ladies and gentlemen who at + court were entitled to the high and small levees, as well as to the + tabouret, and to the kissing of the queen’s hand. As they passed, each + bowed low, and then, with the same due observance of rank, as was + customary at court, the ladies and gentlemen of inferior titles followed + two by two, when the higher nobility had passed. [Footnote: “Souvenirs de + la Marquise de Crequi,” vol. v]. + </p> + <p> + It was yet the court-society which was assembled here in the rooms and + cells of the prison; only this court-society, this aristocracy, had no + more King Louis to do homage unto, but they served another king, they + bowed low before another queen! This king to whom the nobility of France + belonged was Death; this queen to which proud heads bowed low was the + Guillotine! + </p> + <p> + It was King Death who now summoned the aristocrats to his court; the + scaffold was the hall of festivity where solemn homage was made to this + king. It would therefore have been against all etiquette to crowd into + this hall of festivity with beclouded countenance; this would have + diminished the respect due to King Death, if he had not been approached + with full-court ceremonial, and with the serene, easy smile of a courtier. + To die, to meet death was now a distinction, an honor for which each + almost envied the other. When at ten o’clock in the morning the gathering + took place in the large room, the conversation was of the most cheerful + and unaffected easiness; they joked, they laughed, they speculated on + politics, though it was well known that in a few minutes yonder door was + to open, and that on its threshold the jailer would appear, list in hand; + that from this list he would call out with his loud, croaking voice, as + Death’s harbinger, the names of those whose death-warrants had been + yesterday signed by Robespierre, and who would have immediately to leave + the hall, to mount the wagons which were already waiting at the prison’s + gate to drive them to the guillotine. + </p> + <p> + While the jailer read his list, suspense and excitement were visible on + all faces, but no one would have so deeply lowered himself as to betray + fear or anguish when his name fell from the lips of the jailer. The smile + remained on the lip, friends and acquaintances were bidden farewell with a + cheerful salutation, and with easy, unaffected demeanor they quitted the + hall to mount the fatal vehicle. + </p> + <p> + To die gracefully was now considered as much bon ton as it had been once + fashionable gracefully to enter the ballroom and do obeisance to the king; + contempt and scorn would have followed him who might have exhibited a + sorrowful mien, hesitation, or fear. + </p> + <p> + One morning the jailer had read his list, and sixteen gentlemen and ladies + of the aristocracy had consequently to leave the hall of the Conciergerie + to enter both wagons now ready at the gate. As they were starting for the + fatal journey a second turnkey appeared, to say that through some accident + only one of the wagons was ready, and that consequently only eight of the + sentenced ones could be driven to the guillotine. This meant that the + accident nullified eight death-warrants and saved the lives of eight + sentenced persons. For it was not probable that these eight persons would + next morning be honored with an execution. Their warrants were signed, + their names had been called; neither the tribunal of the revolution nor + the jailer could pay special attention whether their heads had fallen or + not. The next day would bring on new condemnations, new lists, new + distinctions for the wagons, new heads for the guillotine. Whoever, on the + day appointed for the execution, missed the guillotine, could safely + reckon that his life was saved; that henceforth he was amongst the + forgotten ones, of whom a great number filled the prisons, and who + expected their freedom through some favorable accident. + </p> + <p> + To-day, therefore, only eight of the sixteen condemned were to mount the + wagon. But who were to be the favored ones? The two turnkeys, with cold + indifference, left the choice to the condemned. Only eight could be + accommodated in the wagon, they said, and it was the same who went or who + remained. “Make your choice!” + </p> + <p> + A strife arose among the sixteen condemned ones—not as to who might + remain behind, but as to those who might mount into the wagon. + </p> + <p> + The ladies declared that, according to the rules of common politeness, + which allowed ladies to go first, the choice belonged to them; the + gentlemen objected to this motion of the ladies on the plea that to reach + the guillotine steps had to be ascended, and as etiquette required that in + going up-stairs the gentlemen should always precede the ladies, they were + also now entitled to go first and to mount the steps of the scaffold + before the ladies. At last all had to give way to the claims of the + Duchess de Grammont, who declared that at this festival as at every other + the order of rank was to be observed, and that she, as well as all the + gentlemen and ladies of superior rank, had the undisputed privilege now, + as at all other celebrations, to take the precedency. + </p> + <p> + No one ventured to oppose this decision, and the Duchess de Grammont, + proud of the victory won, was the first to leave the room and mount the + wagon. + </p> + <p> + Another time the turnkey began to read the list: every one listened with + grave attention, and at every call a clear, cheerful “Here I am!” + followed. + </p> + <p> + But after the jailer, with wearied voice, had many times repeated a name + from his list, the accustomed answer failed. No one came forward, no one + seemed to be there to lay claim to that name and to the execution. The + jailer stopped a few minutes, and as all were dumb, he continued, + indifferent and unmoved, to call out the names. + </p> + <p> + “We will then have only fifteen heads to deliver to-day,” said he, after + reading the list, “for there must have been a mistake. One of the names is + false, or else the person to whom it belongs has already been delivered.” + </p> + <p> + “It is probably but a blunder of the pen!” exclaimed a handsome young man + who, smiling, stepped out of the crowd of listeners and passed on to the + side where the victims stood. “You read Chapetolle. There is no such name + here. The hand of the writer was probably tired of writing the numerous + lists of those who are sentenced to death, and he has therefore written + the letters wrong. My name is Chapelotte, and I am the one meant by + Chapetolle.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” said the jailer, “but it is certain that sixteen + sentenced ones ought to go into the wagons, and that only fifteen have + reported themselves in a legal way.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, add me in an illegal manner to your fifteen,” said the young + man, smiling. “Without doubt it is my name they intended to write. I do + not wish to save my life through a blunder in writing, and who knows if + another time I may find such good company as to-day in your chariot? Allow + me then to journey on with my friends.” + </p> + <p> + The jailer had no reason to refuse him this journey, and he had the + satisfaction besides of being thus able to deliver sixteen sentenced + prisoners to the guillotine. + </p> + <p> + Such was the society of the aristocrats, among whom Josephine lived the + long, dreary days of her imprisonment. The cell she occupied was shared by + two companions of misfortune, the Duchess de Aguillon and the beautiful + Madame de Fontenay, who afterward became Madame Tallien, so distinguished + and renowned for her beauty and wit. Therese de Fontenay knew, and every + one knew, that she was already sentenced, even if her sentence was not yet + written down and countersigned. It was recorded in the heart of + Robespierre. He had sentenced her, without any concealment. She had but a + few weeks more to endure the martyrdom, the anguish of hope and of + expectation. She was his secure victim; Robespierre needed not hasten the + fall of this beautiful head, which was the admiration of all who saw it. + This beauty was the very crime which Robespierre wanted to punish, for + with this beauty, Therese de Fontenay, who then resided in Bordeaux with + her husband, had captivated the old friend and associate in sentiments of + Robespierre, the fanatical Tallien; with this beauty she had converted the + man of blood and terror into a soft, compassionate being, inclined to + pardon and to mercy toward his fellow-beings. + </p> + <p> + Tallien had been sent as commissionnaire from the Convention to Bordeaux, + and there with inexorable severity he had raged against the unfortunate + merchants, from whom he exacted enormous assessments, and whom he + sentenced to the guillotine if they refused, or were unable to pay. But + suddenly love changed the bloodthirsty tiger into a sensitive being, and + the beautiful Madame de Fontenay, who had become acquainted with Tallien + in the prison of Bordeaux, had worked a complete change in his whole + being. For the first time this man, who unmoved had condemned to death + King Louis and the Girondists, found on his lips the word “pardon;” for + the first time the hand which had signed so many death-warrants wrote the + order to let a prisoner go free. + </p> + <p> + This prisoner was Therese de Fontenay, the daughter of the Spanish banker + Cabarrus, and she rewarded him for the gift of her life with a smile which + forever made him her captive. From this time the death-warrants were + converted into pardons from his lips, and for every pardon Therese thanked + him with a sweet smile, with a glowing look of love. + </p> + <p> + But this leniency was looked upon as criminal by the tribunal of terror in + Paris. They recalled the culprit who dared pardon instead of punishing; + and if Robespierre did not think himself powerful enough to send Tallien + as a traitor and as an apostate to the scaffold, he punished him for his + leniency by separating from him Therese de Fontenay, who had abandoned the + husband forced upon her, and who had followed Tallien to Paris, and + Robespierre had sent her to prison. + </p> + <p> + There, at the Carmelites’, was Therese de Fontenay; she occupied the same + cell as Josephine; the same misfortune had made them companions and + friends. They communicated one to the other their hopes and fears; and + when Josephine, with tears in her eyes, spoke to her friend of her + children, of her deep anguish, for they were alone and abandoned in the + world outside of the prison walls, whilst their unfortunate pitiable + mother languished in prison, Therese comforted and encouraged her. + </p> + <p> + “So long as one lives there is hope,” said Therese, with her enchanting + smile. “Myself, who in the eyes of you all am sentenced to death, hope—no, + I hope not—I am convinced that I will soon obtain my freedom. And I + swear that, as soon as I am free, I will stir heaven and earth to procure + the liberty of my dear friend Josephine and of her husband the Viscount de + Beauharnais, and to give back to the poor orphaned children their + parents.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine answered with an incredulous smile, and a shrugging of the + shoulders; and then Therese’s very expressive countenance glowed, and her + large, black eyes flashed deeper gleams. + </p> + <p> + “You have no faith in me, Josephine,” she said, vehemently; “but I repeat + to you, I will soon obtain my freedom, and then I will procure your + liberty and that of your husband.” + </p> + <p> + “But how will you obtain that?” asked Josephine, shaking her head. + </p> + <p> + “I will ruin Robespierre,” said Therese, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “In what do your means of ruining him consist?” + </p> + <p> + “In this letter here,” said Therese, as she drew out of her bosom a small + paper folded up. “See, this sheet of paper; it consists but of a few lines + which, since they would not furnish me with writing-materials, I have + written with my blood on this sheet of paper, which I found yesterday in + the garden during the promenade. The turnkey will give this letter to-day + to Tallien. He has given me his word, and I have promised him that Tallien + will recompense him magnificently for it. This letter will ruin + Robespierre and make me free, and then I will procure the freedom of the + Viscount and of the Viscountess de Beauharnais.” + </p> + <p> + “What then, in that letter is the magic word which is to work out such + wonders?” + </p> + <p> + Therese handed the paper to her friend. + </p> + <p> + “Read,” said she, smiling. + </p> + <p> + Josephine read: “Therese of Fontenay to the citizen Tallien. Either in + eight days I am free and the wife of my deliverer, the noble and brave + Tallien, who will have freed the world from the monster Robespierre, or + else, in eight days, I mount the scaffold; and my last thought will be a + curse for the cowardly, heartless man who has not had the courage to risk + his life for her he loved, and who suffers for his sake, for his sake + meets death—who had not the mind to consider that with daring deed + he must destroy the bloodthirsty fiend or be ruined by him. Therese de + Fontenay will ever love her Tallien if he delivers her; she will hate him, + even in death, if he sacrifices her to Robespierre’s blood-greediness!” + </p> + <p> + “If, through mishap, Robespierre should receive this letter, then you and + Tallien are lost,” sighed Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “But Tallien, and not Robespierre, will receive it, and I am saved,” + exclaimed Therese. “Therefore, my friend, take courage and be bold. Wait + but eight days patiently. Let us wait and hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us wait and hope,” sighed Josephine. “Hope and patience are the + only companions of the captive.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. DELIVERANCE. + </h2> + <p> + Meanwhile the patience of the unfortunate prisoners of the Carmelite + convent were to be subjected to a severe trial; and the very next day + after this conversation with Therese de Fontenay, Josephine believed that + there was no more hope for her, that she was irrevocably lost, as her + husband was lost. For three days she had not seen the viscount, nor + received any news from him. Only a vague report had reached her that the + viscount was no longer in the Carmelite convent, but that he had been + transferred to the Conciergerie. + </p> + <p> + This report told the truth. Alexandre de Beauharnais had once more been + denounced, and this second accusation was his sentence of death. For some + time past the fanatical Jacobins had invented a new means to find guilty + ones for the guillotine, and to keep the veins bleeding, so as to restore + France to health. They sent emissaries into the prisons to instigate + conspiracies among the prisoners, and to find out men wretched enough to + purchase their life by accusing their prison companions, and by delivering + them over to the executioner’s axe. Such a spy had been sent into that + portion of the prison where Beauharnais was, and he had begun his horrible + work, for he had kindled discord and strife among the prisoners, and had + won a few to his sinister projects. But Beauharnais’s keen eye had + discovered the traitor, and he had loudly and openly denounced him to his + fellow-prisoners. The next day, the spy disappeared from the prison, but + as he went he swore bloody vengeance on General de Beauharnais. [Footnote: + “Memoires du Comte de Lavalette,” vol. i., p. 175.] + </p> + <p> + And he kept his word; the next morning De Beauharnais was summoned for + trial, and the gloomy, hateful faces of his judges, their hostile + questions and reproaches, the capital crimes they accused him of, led him + to conclude that his death was decided upon, and that he was doomed to the + guillotine. + </p> + <p> + In the night which followed his trial, Alexandre de Beauharnais wrote to + his wife a letter, in which he communicated to her his sad forebodings, + and bade her farewell for this life. The next day he was transferred to + the Conciergerie—that is to say, into the vestibule of the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + This letter of her husband, received by Josephine the next day after her + conversation with Therese de Fontenay, ran thus: + </p> + <p> + “The fourth Thermidor, in the second year of the republic. All the signs + of a kind of trial, to which I and other prisoners have been subjected + this day, tell me that I am the victim of the treacherous calumny of a few + aristocrats, patriots so called, of this house. The mere conjecture that + this hellish machination will follow me to the tribunal of the revolution + gives me no hope to see you again, my friend, no more to embrace you or + our children. I speak not of my sorrow: my tender solicitude for you, the + heartfelt affection which unites me to you, cannot leave you in doubt of + the sentiments with which I leave this life. + </p> + <p> + “I am also sorry to have to part with my country, which I love, for which + I would a thousand times have laid down my life, and which I no more can + serve, but which beholds me now quit her bosom, since she considers me to + be a bad citizen. This heart-rending thought does not allow me to commend + my memory to you; labor, then, to make it pure in proving that a life + which has been devoted to the service of the country, and to the triumph + of liberty and equality, must punish that abominable slanderer, especially + when he comes from a suspicious class of men. But this labor must be + postponed; for in the storms of revolution, a great people, struggling to + reduce its chains to dust, must of necessity surround itself with + suspicion, and be more afraid to forget a guilty man than to put an + innocent one to death. + </p> + <p> + “I will die with that calmness which allows man to feel emotion at the + thought of his dearest inclinations—I will die with that courage + which is the distinctive feature of a free man, of a clear conscience, of + an exalted soul, whose highest wishes are the prosperity and growth of the + republic. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, my friend; gather consolation from my children; derive comfort + in educating them, in teaching them that, by their virtues and their + devotion to their country, they obliterate the memory of my execution, and + recall to national gratitude my services and my claims. Farewell to those + I love: you know them! Be their consolation, and through your solicitude + for them prolong my life in their hearts! Farewell! for the last time in + this life I press you and my children to my heart!—ALEXANDRE + BEAUHARNAIS.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine had read this letter with a thousand tears, but she hoped still; + she believed still in the possibility that the gloomy forebodings of her + husband would not be realized; that some fortunate circumstance would save + him or at least retard his death. + </p> + <p> + But this hope was not to be fulfilled. A few hours after receiving this + letter the turnkey brought to the prisoners the bulletin of the executions + of the preceding day. It was that day Josephine’s turn to read this + bulletin to her companions. She therefore began her sad task; and, as + slowly and thoughtfully she let fall name after name from her lips, here + and there the faces of her hearers were blanched, and their eyes filled + with tears. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Josephine uttered a piercing cry, and sprang up with the movement + of madness toward the door, shook it in her deathly sorrow, as if her life + hung upon the opening of that door, and then she sank down fainting. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunate Josephine! she had seen in the list of those who had been + executed the name of General Beauharnais, and in the first excitement of + horror she wanted to rush out to see him, or at least to give to his body + the parting kiss. + </p> + <p> + On the sixth Thermidor, in the year II., that is, on the 24th of July, + 1794, fell on the scaffold the head of the General Viscount de + Beauharnais. With quiet, composed coolness he had ascended the scaffold, + and his last cry, as he laid his head on the block, was, “Long live the + republic!” + </p> + <p> + In the wagon which drove him to the scaffold, he had found again a friend, + the Prince de Salm-Kirbourg, who was now on his way to the guillotine, and + who had risked his life in bringing back to Paris the children of + Josephine. + </p> + <p> + His bloodthirsty enemies had not enough of the head of General + Beauharnais; his wife’s head also should fall, and the name of the traitor + of his country was to be extinguished forever. + </p> + <p> + Two days after the execution of her husband, the turnkey brought to + Josephine the writ of her accusation, and the summons to appear before the + tribunal of the revolution—a summons which then had all the + significancy of a death-warrant. + </p> + <p> + Josephine heard the summons of the jailer with a quiet, easy smile; she + had not even a look for the fatal paper which lay on her bed. Near this + bed stood the physician, whom the compassionate republic, which would not + leave its prisoners to die on a sick-bed, but only on the scaffold, had + sent to Josephine to inquire into her illness and afford her relief. + </p> + <p> + With indignation he eagerly snatched the paper from the bed, and, + returning it back to the jailer, exclaimed: “Tell the tribunal of the + revolution that it has nothing more to do with this woman! Disease will + bring on justice here, and leave nothing to do for the guillotine. In + eight days Citoyenne Beauharnais is dead!” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire + de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. 235.] + </p> + <p> + This decision of the physician was transmitted to the tribunal, which + resolved that the trial of Madame Beauharnais would be postponed for eight + days, and that the tribunal would wait and see if truly death would save + her from the guillotine. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, during these eight days, events were to pass which were to give + a very different form to the state of things, and impart to the young + republic a new, unexpected attitude. + </p> + <p> + Robespierre ruled yet, he was the feared dictator of France! But Tallien + had received the note of his beautiful, fondly-loved Therese, and he swore + to himself that she should not ascend the scaffold, that she should not + curse him, that he would possess her, that he would win her love, and + destroy the fiend who stood in the way of his happiness, whose + blood-streaming hands were every day ready to sign her death-warrant. + </p> + <p> + On the very same day in which he received the letter of Therese, he + conversed with a few trusty friends, men whom he knew detested Robespierre + as much as himself, and who all longed for an occasion to destroy him. + They planned a scheme of attack against the dictator who imperilled the + life of all, and from whom it was consequently necessary to take away life + and power, so as to be sure of one’s life. It was decided to launch an + accusation against him before the whole Convention, to incriminate him as + striving after dominion, as desirous of breaking the republic with his + bloody hands, and ambitious to exalt himself into dictator and sovereign. + Tallien undertook to fulminate this accusation against him, and they all + agreed to wait yet a few days so as to gain amongst the deputies in the + Convention some members who would support the accusation and give + countenance to the conspirators. On the ninth Thermidor this scheme was to + be carried out; on the ninth Thermidor, Tallien was to thunder forth the + accusation against Robespierre and move his punishment! + </p> + <p> + This enterprise, however, seemed a folly, an impossibility, for at this + time Robespierre was at the height of his power, and fear weighed upon the + whole republic as a universal agony. No one dared oppose Robespierre, for + a look from his eye, a sign from his hand sufficed to bring death, to lead + to the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + The calm, peaceful, and united republic for which Robespierre had toiled, + which had been the ultimate end of his bloodthirstiness, was at last + there, but this republic was built upon corpses, was baptized with streams + of blood and tears. And now that the republic had given up all opposition, + now that she bowed, trembling under the hand of her conqueror, now, + Robespierre wanted to make her happy, he wanted to give her what the + storms of past years had ravished from her—he wanted to give the + republic a God! On the tribune of the Convention, on this tribune which + was his throne, rose Robespierre, to tell with grave dignity to the + republic that there was a Supreme Being, that the soul of man was + immortal. Then, accompanied by the Convention, he proceeded to the Champ + de Mars, to inaugurate the celebration of the worship of a Supreme Being + as his high-priest. But amid this triumph, on his way to the Champ de + Mars, Robespierre the conqueror had for the first time noticed the murmurs + of the Tarpeian rock; he had noticed the dark, threatening glances which + were directed at him from all sides. He felt the danger which menaced him, + and he was determined to remove it from his person by annihilating those + who threatened. + </p> + <p> + But already terror had lost its power, no one trembled before the + guillotine, no one took pleasure in the fall of the axe, in the streams of + blood, which empurpled the Place de la Revolution. The fearful stillness + of death hung round the guillotine, the people were tired of applauding + it, and now and then from the silent ranks of the people thundered forth + in threatening accents the word “tyrant!” which, as the first weapon of + attack, was directed against Robespierre, who, on the heights of the + tribune, was throned with his unmoved, calm countenance. + </p> + <p> + Robespierre felt that he must strike a heavy, decisive blow against his + foes and annihilate them. On the eighth Thermidor, he denounced a plot + organized by his enemies for breaking up the Convention. Through St. Just + he implicated as leaders of this conspiracy some eminent members of the + committees, and requested their dismissal. But the time was past when his + motions were received with jubilant acclamations, and unconditionally + obeyed. The Convention decided to submit the motion of Robespierre to a + vote, and the matter was postponed to the next morning’s session. + </p> + <p> + In the night which preceded the contemplated action of the Convention, + Robespierre went to the Jacobin Club and requested assistance against his + enemies in the Convention. He was received with enthusiasm, and a general + uprising of the revolutionary element was decided upon, and organized for + the following morning. + </p> + <p> + The same night, Tallien, his friends and adherents, met together, and the + mode of attack for the following day, the ninth Thermidor, was discussed, + and the parts assigned to each. + </p> + <p> + The prisoners in the Carmelite convent did not of course suspect any thing + of the events which were preparing beyond the walls of their prison. Even + Therese de Fontenay was low-spirited and sad; for this day, the ninth + Thermidor, was the last day of respite fixed by her to Tallien for her + liberty. + </p> + <p> + This was also the last day of respite which had saved Josephine from the + tribunal of the revolution, through the decision of her physician. Death + had spared her head, but now it belonged to the executioner. The captives + feared the event, and they were confirmed in this fear by the jailer, who, + on the morning of the ninth Thermidor, entered the room which Josephine, + the Duchess d’Aiguillon, and Therese de Fontenay occupied, and who removed + the camp-bed which Josephine had hitherto used as a sofa, to give it to + another prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “How,” exclaimed the Duchess d’Aiguillon, “do you want to give this bed to + another prisoner? Is Madame de Beauharnais to have a better one?” + </p> + <p> + The turnkey burst into a coarse laugh. “Alas! no,” said he, with a + significant gesture, “Citoyenne Beauharnais will soon need a bed no more.” + </p> + <p> + Her friends broke into tears; but Josephine remained composed and quite. + At this decisive moment a fearful self-possession and calmness came over + her; all sufferings and sorrow appeared to have sunk away, all anxiety and + care seemed overcome, and a radiant smile illumined Josephine’s features, + for, through a wondrous association of ideas, she suddenly remembered the + prophecy of the negro-woman in Martinique. + </p> + <p> + “Be calm, my friends,” said she, smiling; “weep not, do not consider me as + destined to the scaffold, for I assure you I am going to live: I must not + die, for I am destined to be one day the sovereign of France. Therefore, + no more tears! I am the future Queen of France!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” exclaimed the Duchess d’Aiguillon, half angry and half sad, “why not + at once appoint your state dignitaries?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Josephine, eagerly; “this is the best time to do so. + Well, then, my dear duchess, I now appoint you to be my maid of honor, and + I swear it will be so.” + </p> + <p> + “My God! she is mad!” exclaimed the duchess, and, nearly fainting, she + sank upon her chair. + </p> + <p> + Josephine laughed, and opened the window to admit some fresh air. She + perceived there below in the street a woman making to her all manner of + signs and gestures. She lifted up her arms, she then took hold of her + dress, and with her hand pointed to her robe. + </p> + <p> + It was evident that she wished through these signs and motions to convey + some word to the prisoners, whom perhaps she knew, for she repeatedly took + hold of her robe with one hand, and pointed at it with the other. + </p> + <p> + “Robe?” cried out Josephine interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + The woman nodded in the affirmative, then took up a stone, which she held + up to the prisoner’s view. + </p> + <p> + “Pierre?” ask Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The woman again nodded in the affirmative, and then placed the stone + (pierre) in her robe, made several times the motion of falling, then of + cutting off the neck, and then danced and clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” cried Josephine, struck with a sudden thought, “this woman + brings us good news, she tells us Robespierre est tombe.” (Robespierre has + fallen.) + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is so,” exclaimed Therese, triumphantly; “Tallien has kept his + word; he conquers, and Robespierre is thrust down!” + </p> + <p> + And, overpowered with joy and emotion, the three women, weeping, sank into + each other’s arms. + </p> + <p> + They now heard from without loud cries and shouts. It was the jailer, + quarrelling with his refractory dog. The dog howled, and wanted to go out + with his master, but the jailer kicked him back, saying: “Away, go to the + accursed Robespierre!” + </p> + <p> + Soon joyous voices resounded through the corridor; the door of their cell + was violently opened, and a few municipal officers entered to announce to + the Citizeness Madame Fontenay that she was free, and bade her accompany + them into the carriage waiting below to drive her to the house of Citizen + Tallien. Behind them pressed the prisoners who, from the reception-room, + had followed the authorities, to entreat them to give them the news of the + events in Paris. + </p> + <p> + There was now no reason for the municipal authorities to make a secret of + the events which at this hour occupied all Paris, and which would soon be + welcomed throughout France as the morning dawn of a new day. + </p> + <p> + Robespierre had indeed fallen! Tallien and his friends had in the + Convention brought against the despot the accusation that he was striving + for the sovereign power, and that he had enthroned a Supreme Being merely + to proclaim himself afterward His visible representative, and to take all + power in his own hands. When Robespierre had endeavored to justify + himself, he had been dragged away from the speaker’s tribune; and, as he + defended himself, Tallien had drawn a dagger on Robespierre, and was + prevented from killing the tyrant by a few friends, who by main force + turned the dagger away. Immediately after this scene, the Convention + decided to arrest Robespierre and his friends Couthon and St. Just; and + the prisoners, among whom Robespierre’s younger brother had willingly + placed himself, were led away to the Luxemburg. [Footnote: The next day, + on the tenth Thermidor, Robespierre, who in the night had attempted to put + an end to his life with a pistol, was executed with twenty-one companions. + His brother was among the number of the executed.] + </p> + <p> + The prisoners welcomed this news with delight; for with the fall of + Robespierre, had probably sounded for them the hour of deliverance, and + they could hope that their prison’s door would soon be opened, not to be + led to the scaffold, but to obtain their freedom. + </p> + <p> + Therese de Fontenay, with the messengers sent by Tallien, left the + Carmelite cloisters to fulfil the promise made by her to Tallien in her + letter, to become his wife, and to pass at his side new days of happiness + and love. + </p> + <p> + She embraced Josephine tenderly as she bade her farewell, and renewed to + her the assurance that she would consider it her dearest and most sacred + duty to obtain her friend’s liberty. + </p> + <p> + In the evening of the same day, Josephine’s camp-bed was restored to her; + and, stretching herself upon it with intense delight, she said smilingly + to her friends: “You see, I am not yet guillotined; I will be Queen of + France.” [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” ch. xxxiii.] + </p> + <p> + Therese de Fontenay, now Citoyenne Tallien, kept her word. Three days + after obtaining her liberty, she came herself to fetch Josephine out of + prison. Her soft, mild disposition had resumed its old spell over Tallien, + whom the Convention had appointed president of the Committee of Safety. + The death-warrants signed by Robespierre were annulled, and the prisons + were opened, to restore to hundreds of accused life and liberty. The + bloody and tearful episode of the revolution had closed with the fall of + Robespierre, and on the ninth Thermidor the republic assumed a new phase. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was free once more! With tears of bliss she embraced her two + children, her dear darlings, found again! In pressing her offspring to her + heart with deep, holy emotion, she thought of their father, who had loved + them both so much, who had committed to her the sacred trust of keeping + alive in the hearts of his children love for their father. + </p> + <p> + Encircling still her children in her arms, she bowed them on their knees; + and, lifting up to heaven her eyes, moist with tears, she whispered to + them: “Let us pray, children; let us lift up our thoughts to heaven, where + your father is, and whence he looks down upon us to bless his children.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine delayed not much longer in Paris, where the air was yet damp + with the blood of so many murdered ones; where the guillotine, on which + her husband had died, lifted yet its threatening head. She hastened with + her children to Fontainebleau, there to rest from her sorrows on the heart + of her father-in-law, to weep with him on the loss they both had suffered. + </p> + <p> + The dream of her first youth and of her first love had passed away, and to + the father of her beheaded husband Josephine returned a widow; rich in + gloomy, painful experiences, poor in hopes, but with a stout heart, and a + determination to live, and to be at once a father and a mother to her + children. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II. THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. BONAPARTE IN CORSICA. + </h2> + <p> + The civil war which for four years had devastated France had also with its + destruction and its terrors overspread the French colonies, and in + Martinique as well as in Corsica two parties stood opposed to each other + in infuriated bitterness—one fighting for the rights of the native + land, the other for the rights of the French people, for the “liberty, + equality, and fraternity” which the Convention in Paris had adopted for + its motto, since it delivered to the guillotine, on the Place de la + Revolution, the heads of those who dared lay claim for themselves to this + liberty of thought so solemnly proclaimed. + </p> + <p> + In Corsica both parties fought with the same eagerness as in France, and + the execution of Louis XVI. had only made the contest more violent and + more bitter. + </p> + <p> + One of these parties looked with horror on this guillotine which had drunk + the blood of the king, and this party desired to have nothing in common + with this French republic, with this blood-streaming Convention which had + made of terror a law, and which had destroyed so many lives in the name of + liberty. + </p> + <p> + At the head of this party stood the General Pascal Paoli, whom the + revolution had recalled to his native isle from his exile of twenty years, + and who objected that Corsica should bend obediently under the + blood-stained hand of the French Convention, and whose wish it was that + the isle should be an independent province of the great French republic. + </p> + <p> + To exalt Corsica into a free, independent republic had been the idea of + his whole life. For the sake of this idea he had passed twenty years in + exile; for, after having made Corsica independent of Genoa, he had not + been able to obtain for his native isle that independence for which he had + fought with his brave Genoese troops. During eight years he had + perseveringly maintained the conflict—during eight years he had been + the ruler of Corsica, but immovable in his republican principles; he had + rejected the title of king, which the Corsican people, grateful for the + services rendered to their fatherland, had offered him. He had been + satisfied to be the first and most zealous servant of the island, which, + through his efforts, had been liberated from the tyrannical dominion of + Genoa. But Genoa’s appeal for assistance had brought French troops to + Corsica; the Genoese, harassed and defeated everywhere by Paoli’s brave + troops, had finally transferred the island to France. This was not what + Paoli wanted—this was not for what he had fought! + </p> + <p> + Corsica was to be a free and independent republic; she was to bow no more + to France than to Genoa; Corsica was to be free. + </p> + <p> + In vain did the French government make to General Paoli the most brilliant + offers; he rejected them; he called the Corsicans to the most energetic + resistance to the French occupation; and when he saw that opposition was + in vain, that Corsica had to submit, he at least would not yield, and he + went to England. + </p> + <p> + The cry for liberty which, in the year 1790, resounded from France, and + which made the whole world tremble, brought him back from England to + Corsica, and he took the oath of allegiance to free, democratic France. + But the blood of the king had annulled this oath, the Convention’s reign + of terror had filled his soul with horror; and, after solemnly separating + himself from France, he had, in the year 1793, convoked a Consulta, to + decide whether Corsica was to submit to the despotism of the French + republic, or if it was to be a free and independent state. The Consulta + chose the latter position, and named Paoli for president as well as for + general-in-chief of the Corsicans. + </p> + <p> + The National Convention at once called the culprit to its bar, and ordered + him to Paris to justify his conduct, or to receive the punishment due. But + General Paoli paid no attention to the imperious orders of the Convention, + which, as the chief appeared not at its bar, declared him, on the 15th of + May, 1793, a traitor to his country, and sent commissioners to Corsica to + arrest the criminal. + </p> + <p> + This traitor to the state, the General Pascal Paoli, was then at the head + of the Moderate party in Corsica, and he loudly and solemnly declared + that, in case of absolute necessity, it would be preferable to call + England to their assistance than to accept the yoke of the French + republic, which had desecrated her liberty, since she had soiled it with + the blood of so many innocent victims. + </p> + <p> + But in opposition to General Paoli rose up with wild clamor the other + party, the party of young, enthusiastic heads, who were intoxicated with + the democratic ideas which had obtained the sway in France, and which they + imagined, so great was their impassioned devotedness to them, possessed + the power and the ability to conquer the whole world. + </p> + <p> + At the head of this second party, which claimed unconditional adherence to + France, to the members of the Convention—at the head of this + fanatical, Corsican, republican, and Jacobin party, stood the Bonaparte + family, and above them all the two brothers Joseph and Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Joseph was now, in the year 1793, chief justice of the tribunal of + Ajaccio; Napoleon, who was captain of artillery in the French army of + Italy, had then obtained leave of absence to visit his family. Both + brothers had been hitherto the most affectionate and intimate admirers of + Paoli, and especially Napoleon, who, from his earliest childhood, had + cherished the most unbounded admiration for the patriot who preferred + exile to a dependent grandeur in Corsica. Even now, since Paoli’s return + to Corsica, and Napoleon had had many opportunities to see him, his + admiration for the great chief had lost nothing of its force or vitality. + Paoli seemed sincerely to return this inclination of Napoleon and of his + brother, and in the long evening walks, which both brothers made with him, + Napoleon’s mind opened itself, before his old, experienced companion, the + great general, the noble republican, with a freedom and a candor such as + he had never manifested to others. With subdued admiration Paoli listened + to his short, energetic explanations, to his descriptions, to his + war-schemes, to his warm enthusiasm for the republic; and one day, carried + away by the warmth of the young captain of artillery, the general, fixing + his glowing eyes upon him, exclaimed: “Young man, you are modelled after + the antique; you belong to Plutarch!” + </p> + <p> + “And to General Paoli!” replied Napoleon, eagerly, as he pressed his + friend’s hand affectionately in his own. + </p> + <p> + But now this harmonious concord between General Paoli and the young men + was destroyed by the passion of party views. Joseph as well as Napoleon + belonged to the French party; they soon became its leaders; they were at + the head of the club which they had organized according to the maxims and + principles of the Jacobin Club in Paris, and to which they gave the same + name. + </p> + <p> + In this Jacobin Club at Ajaccio Napoleon made speeches full of glowing + enthusiasm for the French republic, for the ideas of freedom; in this club + he enjoined on the people of Corsica to adhere loyally to France, to keep + fast and to defend with life and blood the acquired liberty of republican + France, to regard and drive away as traitors to their country all those + who dared guide the Corsican people on another track. + </p> + <p> + But the Corsican people were not there to hear the enthusiastic speeches + about liberty and to follow them. Only a few hundred ardent republicans of + the same sentiment applauded the republican Napoleon, and cried aloud that + the republic must be defended with blood and life. The majority of the + Corsican people flocked to Paoli, and the commissioners sent by the + Convention from Paris to Corsica, to depose and arrest Paoli, found + co-operation and assistance only among the inhabitants of the cities and + among the French troops. Paoli, the president of the Consulta, was located + at Corte; the messengers of the Convention gathered in Bastia the + adherents of France, and excited them to strenuous efforts against the + rebellious Consulta and the insurgent Paoli. Civil war with all its + horrors was there; the raging conflicts of the parties tore apart the holy + bonds of family, friendship, and love. Brother fought and argued against + brother, friend rose up against friend, and whole families were destroyed, + rent asunder by the impassioned rivalries of sentiment and partisanship. + Denunciations and accusations, suspicions and enmities, followed. Every + one trembled at his own shadow; and, to turn aside the peril of death, it + was necessary to strike. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. + 51.] + </p> + <p> + The Bonaparte brothers opposed General Paoli with violent bitterness; + bloody conflicts took place, in which the national Corsican party remained + victorious. Irritated and embittered by the opposition which some of the + natives themselves were making to his patriotic efforts, Paoli persecuted + with zealous activity the conquered, whom he resolved to destroy, that + they might not imperil the young Corsican independence. Joseph and + Napoleon Bonaparte were the leaders of this party, and Paoli knew too well + the energy and the intellectual superiority of Napoleon not to dread his + influence. Him, above all things, him and his family, must he render + harmless, so as to weaken and to intimidate the French party. He sent + agents to Ajaccio, to arrest the whole Bonaparte family, and at the same + time his troops approached the town to occupy it and make the French + commissioners prisoners. But these latter, informed in time of the danger, + had gained time and saved themselves on board the French frigate lying in + the harbor, and with them the whole Bonaparte family had embarked. + Napoleon, on whom the attention of Paoli’s agents had been specially + directed, was more than once in danger of being seized by them, and it was + due to the advice of a friend that, disguised as a sailor, he saved + himself in time on board the French frigate and joined his family. + [Footnote: “Memoires de la Duchess d’Abrantes,” vol. i.] The commissioners + of the Convention at once ordered the anchor to be weighed, and to steer + toward France. + </p> + <p> + This frigate, on board of which the Bonaparte family in its flight had + embarked, carried to France the future emperor and his fortune. + </p> + <p> + The house, the possessions of the Bonaparte family, fell a prey to the + conquerors, and on them they gave vent to their vengeance for the + successful escape of the fugitives. A witness of these facts is a + certificate which Joseph Bonaparte a few months later procured from + Corsica, and which ran as follows: + </p> + <p> + “I, the undersigned, Louis Conti, procurator-syndic of the district of + Ajaccio, department of Corsica, declare and certify: in the month of May + of this year, when General Paoli and the administration of the department + had sent into the city of Ajaccio armed troops, in concert with other + traitors in the city, took possession of the fortress, drove away the + administration of the district, incarcerated a large portion of the + patriots, disarmed the republican forces, and, when these refused to give + up the commissioners of the National Convention, Paoli’s troops fired upon + the vessel which carried these commissioners: + </p> + <p> + “That these rebels endeavored to seize the Bonaparte family, which had the + good fortune to elude their pursuit: + </p> + <p> + “That they destroyed, plundered, and burnt everything which belonged to + this family, whose sole crime consisted in their unswerving fidelity to + the republicans, and in their refusal to take any part in the scheme of + isolation, rebellion, and disloyalty, of which Paoli and the + administration of the department had become guilty. + </p> + <p> + “I moreover declare and certify that this family, consisting of ten + individuals, and who stood high in the esteem of the people of the island, + possessed the largest property in the whole department, and that now they + are on the continent of the republic. + </p> + <p> + “(Signed) CONTI, Proc.-Synd. Delivered on the 5th of September, 1793, Year + II. of the republic.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. + 52.] + </p> + <p> + Paoli, the conqueror of the French republic, the patriotic enemy of the + Bonaparte family, drove Napoleon Bonaparte from his native soil! The + cannon of the Corsican patriots fired upon the ship on which the future + emperor of the French was steering toward his future empire! + </p> + <p> + But this future lay still in an invisible, cloudy distance—of one + thing, however, was the young captain of artillery fully conscious: from + this hour he had broken with the past, and, by his dangers and conflicts, + by the sacrifice of his family’s property, by his flight from Corsica, + given to the world a solemn testimony that he recognized no other country, + that he owed allegiance to no other nation than to France. He had proved + that his feelings were not Corsican, but French. + </p> + <p> + The days of his childhood and youth sank away behind him, with the + deepening shadows of the island of Corsica, and the shores which rose + before him on the horizon were the shores of France. There lay his future—his + empire! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE BEFORE TOULON. + </h2> + <p> + Whilst Paris, yet trembling, bowed under the bloody rule of the + Convention, a spirit of opposition and horror began to stir in the + provinces; fear of the terrorists, of the Convention, began to kindle the + courage, to make defiance to these men of horror, and to put an end to + terrorism. The province of Vendee, in her faithfulness and loyalty to the + royal family, arose in deadly conflict against the republicans; the large + cities of the south, with Toulon at their head, had shielded themselves + from the horrors which the home government would have brought them, by + uniting with the enemies who now from all sides pressed upon France. + </p> + <p> + Toulon gave itself up to the combined fleet of England and Spain. + Marseilles, Lyons, and Nismes, contracted an alliance together, and + declared their independence of the Convention and of the terrorists. + Everywhere in all the cities and communities of the south the people rose + up, and seditions and rebellions took place. Everywhere the Convention had + to send its troops to re-establish peace by force, and to compel the + people to submit to its rule. Whole army corps had to be raised to win + back to the republic the rebellious cities, and only after hard fighting + did General Carteaux subdue Marseilles. + </p> + <p> + But Toulon held out still, and within its protecting walls had the + majority of the inhabitants of Marseilles taken refuge before the wrath of + the Convention, which had already sent to the latter some of its + representatives, to establish there the destructive work of the + guillotine. Toulon offered them safety; it seemed impregnable, as much by + its situation as by the number and strength of its defenders. It could + also defy any siege, since the sea was open, and it could by this channel + be provisioned through the English and Spanish fleet. + </p> + <p> + No one trembled before the little army of seventeen thousand men which, + under General Carteaux, had invested Toulon. + </p> + <p> + But in this little army of the republicans was a young soldier whom yet + none knew, none feared, but whose fame was soon to resound throughout the + world, and before whom all Europe was soon tremblingly to bow. + </p> + <p> + This young man was Napoleon Bonaparte, the captain of artillery. He had + come from Italy (where his regiment was) to France, to make there, by + order of his general, some purchases for the park of artillery of the + Italian army. But some of the people’s representatives had had an + opportunity of recognizing the sharp eye and the military acquirements of + the young captain of artillery; they interceded in his favor, and he was + promoted to the army corps which was before Toulon, and at once sent in + the capacity of assistant to General Carteaux, with whom also was + Napoleon’s brother Joseph, as chief of the general’s staff. + </p> + <p> + From this moment the siege, which until now had not progressed favorably, + was pushed on with renewed energy, and it was due to the cautious + activity, the daring spirit of the captain of artillery, that marked + advantages were gained over the English, and that from them many redoubts + were taken, and the lines of the French drawn closer and closer to the + besieged city. + </p> + <p> + But yet, after many months of siege, Toulon held out still. From the sea + came provisions and ammunition, and on the land-side Toulon was protected + against capture by a fort occupied by English troops, and which, on + account of its impregnable position, was called “Little Gibraltar.” From + this position hot-balls and howitzers had free range all over the + seaboard, for this fort stood between the two harbors of the city and + immediately opposite Toulon. The English, fully appreciating the + importance of the position, had occupied it with six thousand men, and + surrounded it with intrenchments. + </p> + <p> + It came to this, as Napoleon in a council of war declared to the general, + that the English must be driven out of their position; then, when this + fort was taken, in two days Toulon must yield. + </p> + <p> + The plan was decided upon, and from this moment the besiegers directed all + their strength no more against Toulon, but against the important fort, + “Little Gibraltar,” “for there,” as Napoleon said, “there was the key to + Toulon.” + </p> + <p> + All Europe now watched with intense anxiety the events near Toulon; all + France, which hitherto with divided sentiments had wished the victory to + side now with the besieged, now with the besiegers, forgot its differences + of opinion, and was united in the one wish to expel the hated enemy and + rival, the English, from the French city, and to crown the efforts of the + French army with victory. + </p> + <p> + The Convention, irritated that its orders should not have been immediately + carried out, had in its despotic power recalled from his command General + Carteaux, who could not succeed in capturing Toulon, and had appointed as + chief of battalion the young captain of artillery, Napoleon Bonaparte, on + account of his bravery in capturing some dangerous redoubts. The successor + of Carteaux, the old General Dugommier, recognizing the superior mind of + the young chief of battalion, willingly followed his plans, and was + readily guided and led by the surer insight of the young man. + </p> + <p> + The position of new Gibraltar had to be conquered so as to secure the fall + of Toulon; such was, such remained Napoleon’s unswerving judgment. No + effort, no cost, no blood, was to be spared to attain this result. He + placed new batteries against the fort; stormed the forts Malbosquet and + Ronge; a terrible struggle ensued, in which the English General O’Hara was + taken prisoner by the French, and the English had to leave the fort and + retreat into the city. + </p> + <p> + The first great advantage was won, but Little Gibraltar remained still in + the hands of the English, and Napoleon desired, and felt it as an + obligation, to subdue it at any price. + </p> + <p> + But already the Convention began to be discouraged, and to lose energy, + and the deputies of the people, Barras and Freron, who until now had + remained with the besieging army, hastened to Paris to implore the + Convention to give up the siege, and to recall the army from Toulon. + </p> + <p> + But before they reached Paris the matter was to be decided before Toulon. + The fate of the Little Gibraltar was to be fulfilled; it was to be taken, + or in the storming of it the French army was to perish. + </p> + <p> + Thousands of shells were thrown into the fort, thirty cannon thundered + against it. Napoleon Bonaparte mixed with the artillerymen, encouraged by + his bold words their activity, their energy, and their bravery, and + pointed to them the spots where to direct their balls. Whilst he was in + conversation with one of the cannoneers near whom he stood, a cannon-ball + from the English tore away the head of the artilleryman who had just + lifted up the match to fire his cannon. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon quietly took up the burning match out of the hand of the dead + man, and discharged the gun. Then, with all the zeal and tact of an + experienced cannoneer, he began to load the piece, to send forth its balls + against the enemy and for many hours he remained at this post, until + another artilleryman was found to relieve the chief of division. + [Footnote: This brave action of Napoleon was to have for him evil results. + The cannoneer, from whose hand he took the match, was suffering from the + most distressing skin-disease, generally breaking out with the greatest + violence in the hand. The match which the cannoneer had for hours held in + his hand was yet warm with its pressure, and imparted to Napoleon’s hand + the poison of the contagious disease. For years he had to endure the + eruption, which he could not conquer, as he had conquered nations and + princes, but to its destructive and painful power he had to subdue his + body. The nervous agitations to which he was subject, the shrugging of his + right shoulder, the white-greenish complexion of his face, the leanness of + his body, were all consequences of this disease. It was only when Napoleon + had become emperor, that Corvisart succeeded, by his eloquence, in + persuading him to follow a regular course of treatment. This treatment + cured him; his white-greenish complexion and his leanness disappeared. The + nervous movement of the shoulder remained, and became a habit.—See + “Memoires de Constant,” vol. i.] + </p> + <p> + But whilst Napoleon made himself a cannoneer in the service of his + country, he remained at the same time the chief of division, whose + attention was everywhere, whose eagle glance nothing escaped, and who knew + how to improve every advantage. + </p> + <p> + A body of troops was at a distant point, and Bonaparte wanted to send them + an important order. Whilst loading his cannon, he called aloud to an + under-officer to whom he might dictate the dispatch. A young man hastened + to the call, and said he was ready to write. Upon a mound of sand he + unfolded his pocket-book, drew out of it a piece of paper, and began to + write what Napoleon, with a voice above the cannon’s roar, was dictating + to him. At this very moment, as the order was written, a cannon-ball fell + quite near the officer, burrowing the ground, and scattering some of the + light sand over the written paper. The young man raised his hat and made a + bow to the cannon-ball, that buried itself in the sand. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” said he, “you have saved me sand for my paper.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon smiled, and looked with a joyous, sympathizing glance at the + young officer, whose handsome pleasing countenance was radiant with bold + daring and harmless merriment. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I need a brave messenger to carry this order to that exposed + detachment,” said Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + “I will be the messenger,” cried out the officer, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I accept you, but you must remove your uniform, and put on a + blouse, so as not to be too much exposed.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will not do,” exclaimed the young man. “I am no spy.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you refuse to obey?” asked Napoleon, threateningly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I refuse to assume a disguise,” answered the officer “I am ready to + obey, and even to carry the order into the very hands of the devil. But + with my uniform I go, otherwise those cursed Englishmen might well imagine + that I am afraid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “But you imperil your life if you go in your glittering uniform.” + </p> + <p> + “My life does not belong to me,” cried out gayly the young soldier. “Who + cares if I risk it? You will not be sorry about it, for you know me not, + citizen-officer, and it is all the same to me. Shall I not go in my + uniform? I should be delighted to encounter those English gentlemen, for, + with my sword and the sprightly grains in my patron’s pocket, the + conversation will not sleep, I vow. Now, then, shall I go, + citizen-officer?” + </p> + <p> + “Go,” said Napoleon, smiling. “But you are wrong if you think I will not + be sorry in case you pay this duty with your life. You are a brave fellow, + and I love the brave. Go; but first tell me your name, that when you + return I may tell General Dugommier what name he has to inscribe in his + papers of recommendation for officers; that will be the reward for your + message.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Junot, citizen-officer,” exclaimed the young man as, swinging + the paper in his hand, he darted away eagerly. + </p> + <p> + The roar of the cannon was still heard, when Napoleon’s messenger + returned, after a few hours, and reported to him. The chief of division + received him with a friendly motion of his head. + </p> + <p> + “Welcome, Junot,” said he. “I am glad to see you back, and that you have + successfully accomplished your task. I must now make a change of position + in yonder battallion. To-morrow I will give you your commission of + lieutenant, citizen-soldier.” + </p> + <p> + “And to-day grant me a nobler reward, citizen-officer,” said the young + man, tenderly; “give me your hand, and allow me to press it in mine.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, smiling, gave him his hand. The eyes of both young men met in + radiant looks, and with these looks was sealed the covenant which united + them both in a friendship enduring to the tomb. For not one of his + companions-in-arms remained attached to Napoleon with so warm, true, + nearly impassioned tenderness as Junot, and none of them was by the + general, the consul, the emperor, more implicitly trusted, more heartily + beloved than his Junot, whom he exalted to the ranks of general, governor + of Lisbon, Duke d’Abrantes, who was one of the few to whom in his days of + glory he allowed to speak to him in all truth, in all freedom, and without + reserve. + </p> + <p> + But whilst the two young men were sealing this covenant of friendship with + this look of spiritual recognition, the cannon was thundering forth on all + sides. The earth trembled from the reports of the pieces; all the elements + seemed unloosed; the storm howled as if to mingle the noise of human + strife with the uproar of Nature; the sea dashed its frothy, mound-like + waves with terrible noise on the shore; the rain poured down from the + skies in immense torrents, and everything around was veiled in mists of + dampness and smoke. And amid all this, crackled, thundered, and hissed the + shells which were directed against Little Gibraltar, or whizzed from + Toulon, to bring death and destruction among the besiegers. + </p> + <p> + Night sank down, and yet Little Gibraltar was not taken. “I am lost,” + sighed General Dugommier. “I shall have to pay with my head, if we are + forced to retreat.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we must go forward,” cried Bonaparte; “we must have Little + Gibraltar.” + </p> + <p> + An hour after, a loud cry of victory announced to General Dugommier that + the chief of division had reached his aim, that Little Gibraltar was + captured by the French. + </p> + <p> + As the day began to dawn, the French had already captured two other forts; + and Bonaparte roused all his energies to fire from Little Gibraltar upon + the enemy’s fleet. But the English admiral, Lord Hood, knew very well the + terrible danger to which he was exposed if he did not at once weigh + anchor. + </p> + <p> + The chief of division had prophesied correctly: in Little Gibraltar was + the key of Toulon; and since the French had now seized the keys, the + English ships could no longer close the city against them. Toulon was lost—it + had to surrender to the conquerors. [Footnote: Toulon fell on the 18th of + December, 1793.] + </p> + <p> + It is true, defensive operations were still carried on, but Napoleon’s + balls scattered death and ruin into the city; the bursting of shells + brought destruction and suffering everywhere, and in the city as well as + in the harbor columns of flames arose from houses and ships. + </p> + <p> + Toulon was subdued; and the chief of division, Napoleon Bonaparte, had + achieved his first brilliant pass of arms before jubilant France and + astonished Europe; he had made his name shine out from the obscurity of + the past, and placed it on the pages of history. + </p> + <p> + The Convention showed itself thankful to the daring soldier, who had won + such a brilliant victory alike over the foreign as well as over the + internal enemies of the republic; and Napoleon Bonaparte, the chief of + division, was now promoted to the generalship of division. + </p> + <p> + He accepted the nomination with a quiet smile. The wondrous brilliancy of + his eyes betrayed only to a few friends and confidants the important + resolves and thoughts which moved the soul of the young general. + </p> + <p> + In virtue of the order of the Convention, the newly-appointed General + Bonaparte was to go to the army of the republic which was now stationed in + Italy; and he received secret instructions from the Directory concerning + Genoa. Bonaparte left Paris, to gather, as he hoped, fresh laurels and new + victories. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. BONAPARTE’S IMPRISONMENT. + </h2> + <p> + On the 25th day of March, 1794. General Bonaparte entered the headquarters + of the French army in Nice. He was welcomed with joy and marks of + distinction, for the fame of his heroic deeds before Toulon had preceded + him; and on Bonaparte’s pale, proud face, with its dark, brilliant eyes, + was written that he was now come into Italy to add fresh laurels to the + victor’s crown won before Toulon. + </p> + <p> + The old commander-in-chief of the French army, General Dumerbion, confined + oftentimes to his bed through sickness, was very willing to be represented + by General Bonaparte, and to place every thing in his hands; and the two + representatives of the people, Ricord and Robespierre (the younger brother + of the all-powerful dictator)—these two representatives in the army + corps of Italy bound themselves in intimate friendship with the young + general, who seemed to share their glowing enthusiasm for the republic, + and their hatred against the monarchy and the aristocrats. They cherished, + moreover, an unreserved confidence in the military capacities of young + Bonaparte, and always gave to his plans their unconditional assent and + approbation. Upon Napoleon’s suggestion batteries were erected on the + coast of Provence for the security of the fleet and of trading-vessels; + and when this had been accomplished, the general began to carry out the + plan which he had laid before the representatives of the republic, and + according to which the republican army, with its right and left wings + advancing simultaneously on the sea-coast, was to march through the + neutral territory of Genoa into Italy. + </p> + <p> + This plan of Bonaparte was crowned with the most unexpected success. + Without observing the neutrality of Genoa, Generals Massena and Arena + marched through the territory of the proud Italian republic, and thus + began the bloody war which was to desolate the Italian soil for so many + years. + </p> + <p> + Ever faithful to Bonaparte’s war-schemes, which the general-in-chief, + Dumerbion, and the two representatives of the people, Ricord and + Robespierre, had sanctioned, the French columns moved from the valleys, + within whose depths they had so long and so uselessly shed their blood, up + to the heights and conquered the fortresses which the King of Sardinia had + built on the mountains for the protection of his frontiers. Thus Fort + Mirabocco, on the pass of the Cross, fell into the hands of General Dumas, + who then conquered the intrenched Mount Cenis; thus the pass of Tenda, + with the fortress Saorgio, was captured by the French; and there, in the + general depot of the Piedmontese army, they found sixty cannon and war + materials of all kinds. + </p> + <p> + The French had celebrated their first victories in Italy, and both + commanding officers of the fortresses of Mirabocco and Saorgio had to pay + for these triumphs in Turin with the loss of their lives; whilst General + Bonaparte, “as the one to whose well-matured plans and arrangements these + brilliant results were due,” received from the Convention brilliant + encomiums. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly the state of affairs assumed another shape, and at one blow + all the hopes and plans of the young, victorious general were destroyed. + </p> + <p> + Maximilian Robespierre had fallen; with him fell the whole party; then + fell his brother, who a short time before had returned to Paris, and had + there endeavored to obtain from Maximilian new and more ample powers for + Bonaparte, and even the appointment to the chief command of the army—there + fell also Ricord, who had given to General Bonaparte the letter of secret + instructions for energetic negotiations with the government of Genoa, and + to carry out which instructions Bonaparte had at this time gone to that + city. + </p> + <p> + As he was returning to his headquarters in Saona, from Paris had arrived + the new representatives, who came to the army of Italy as delegates of the + Convention, and were armed with full powers. + </p> + <p> + These representatives were Salicetti, Albitte, and Laporte. The first of + these, a countryman of Bonaparte, had been thus far his friend and his + party associate. He was in Corsica at the same time as Napoleon, in the + year 1793; he had been, like his young friend, a member of the Jacobin + Club of Ajaccio, and Salicetti’s speeches had not been inferior to those + of Napoleon, either in wildness or in exalted republicanism. + </p> + <p> + But now Salicetti had become the representative of the moderate party; and + it was highly important for him to establish himself securely in his new + position, and to give to the Convention a proof of the firmness of his + sentiments by manifesting the hatred which he had sworn to the terrorists, + and to all those who, under the fallen regime, had obtained recognition + and distinction. + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte had been a friend of the young Robespierre; loudly and + openly he had expressed his republican and democratic sentiments; he had + been advanced under the administration of Robespierre, from simple + lieutenant to general; he had been sent to Genoa, with secret instructions + by the representatives of the Committee of Safety, made up of terrorists—all + this was sufficient to make him appear suspicious to the moderate party, + and to furnish Salicetti an opportunity to show himself a faithful + partisan of the new system of moderation. + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte was, by order of the representatives of the people, + Salicetti and Albitte, arrested at his headquarters in Saona, because, as + the warrant for arrest, signed by both representatives, asserted: “General + Bonaparte had completely lost their confidence through his suspicious + demeanor, and especially through the journey which he had lately made to + Genoa.” The warrant of arrest furthermore ordered that General Bonaparte, + whose effects should be sealed and his papers examined, was to be sent to + Paris, under sure escort, and be brought for examination before the + Committee of Safety. + </p> + <p> + If this order were carried into execution, then Bonaparte was lost; for, + though Robespierre had fallen, yet with his fall the system of blood and + terror had not been overthrown in Paris; it had only changed its name. + </p> + <p> + The terrorists, who now called themselves the moderates, exercised the + same system of intimidation as their predecessors; and to be brought + before the Committee of Safety, signified the same thing as to receive a + death-warrant. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was lost, if it truly came to this, that he must be led to + Paris. + </p> + <p> + This was what Junot, the present adjutant of Napoleon, and his faithful + friend and companion, feared. It was therefore necessary to anticipate + this order, and to procure freedom to Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + A thousand schemes for the rescue of his beloved chief, crossed the soul + of the young man. But how make them known to the general? how induce him + to flee, since all approaches to him were forbidden? His zeal, his + inventive friendship, succeeded at last in finding a means. One of the + soldiers, who was placed as sentry at the door of the arrested general, + was bribed by Junot; through him a letter from Junot reached Bonaparte’s + hands, which laid before him a scheme of flight that the next night could + be accomplished with Junot’s help. + </p> + <p> + Not far from Bonaparte’s dwelling Junot awaited the answer, and soon a + soldier passed by and brought it to him. + </p> + <p> + This answer ran thus: “In the propositions you make, I acknowledge your + deep friendship, my dear Junot; you are also conscious of the friendship I + have consecrated to you for a long time, and I trust you have confidence + in it. + </p> + <p> + “Man may do wrong toward me, my dear Junot; it is enough for me to be + innocent; my conscience is the tribunal which I recognize as sole judge of + my conduct. + </p> + <p> + “This conscience is quiet when I question it; do, therefore, nothing, if + you do not wish to compromise me. Adieu, dear Junot. Farewell, and + friendship.” [Footnote: Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 241.] + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, notwithstanding his quiet conscience, Bonaparte was not willing + to meet his fate passively and silently, and, perchance, it seemed to him + that it was “not enough to be innocent,” so as to be saved from the + guillotine. He therefore addressed a protest to both representatives of + the people who had ordered his arrest, and this protest, which he dictated + to his friend Junot, who had finally succeeded in coming to Bonaparte, is + so extraordinary and so peculiar in its terseness of style, in its + expressions of political sentiment; it furnishes so important a testimony + of the republican democratic opinions of the young twenty-six-year-old + general, that we cannot but give here this document. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte then dictated to his friend Junot as follows: + </p> + <p> + “To the representatives Salicetti and Albitte: + </p> + <p> + “You have deprived me of my functions, you have arrested me and declared + me suspected. + </p> + <p> + “I am, then, ruined without being condemned; or else, which is much more + correct, I am condemned without being heard. + </p> + <p> + “In a revolutionary state exist two classes: the suspected and the + patriots. + </p> + <p> + “When those of the first class are accused, they are treated as the common + law of safety provides. + </p> + <p> + “The oppression of those of the second class is the ruin of public + liberty. The judge must condemn only after mature deliberation, and when a + series of unimpeachable facts reaches the guilty. + </p> + <p> + “To denounce a patriot as guilty is a condemnation which deprives him of + what is most dear—confidence and esteem. + </p> + <p> + “In which class am I to be ranked? + </p> + <p> + “Have I not been, since the beginning of the revolution, faithful to its + principles? + </p> + <p> + “Have I not always been seen at war with enemies at home, or as a soldier + against the foreign foe? + </p> + <p> + “I have sacrificed my residence in my country and my property to the + republic; I have lost all for her. + </p> + <p> + “By serving my country with some distinction at Toulon and in the Italian + army, I have had my share in the laurels which that army has won at + Saorgio, Queille, and Tanaro. + </p> + <p> + “At the time of the discovery of Robespierre’s conspiracy, my conduct was + that of a man who is accustomed to recognize principles only. + </p> + <p> + “It is therefore impossible to refuse me the title of patriot. + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, am I declared suspect without being heard? Why am I arrested + eight days after the news of the death of the tyrant? + </p> + <p> + “I am declared suspect, and my papers are sealed! + </p> + <p> + “The reverse ought to have taken place: my papers ought to have been + unsealed; I ought to have been tried; explanations ought to have been + sought for, and then I might have been declared suspect if there were + sufficient motives for it. + </p> + <p> + “It is decided that I must go to Paris under a warrant of arrest which + declares me suspect. In Paris they will conclude that the representatives + have acted thus only after sufficient examination, and I shall be + condemned with the sympathy which a man of that class deserves. + </p> + <p> + “Innocent, patriotic, slandered, whatever may be the measures which the + committee take, I cannot complain. + </p> + <p> + “If three men were to declare that I have committed a crime, I could not + complain if the jury should declare me guilty. + </p> + <p> + “Salicetti, you know me. Have you, during the five years of our + acquaintance, found in my conduct any thing which could be suspected as + against the revolution? + </p> + <p> + “Albitte, you know me not. No one can have given you convincing evidence + against me. You have not heard me; you know, however, with what smoothness + calumny oftentimes whispers. + </p> + <p> + “Must I then be taken for an enemy of my country? Must the patriots ruin, + without any regard, a general who has not been entirely useless to the + republic? Must the representatives place the government under the + necessity of acting unjustly and impolitically? + </p> + <p> + “Mark my words; destroy the oppression which binds me down, and + re-establish me in the esteem of the patriots. + </p> + <p> + “If, then, at some future hour, the wicked shall still long for my life, + well, then I consider it of so little importance—I have so often + despised it—yes, the mere thought that it can be useful to the + country, enables me to bear its burden with courage.” [Footnote: + Bourienne, “Memoires sur Napoleon,” etc., vol. i., p. 63.] + </p> + <p> + Whether these energetic protestations of Bonaparte, or whether some other + motives, conduced to the result, Salicetti thought that with Napoleon’s + arrest he had furnished sufficient proof of his patriotic sentiments; it + seemed to him enough to have obscured the growing fame of the young + general, and to have plunged back into obscurity and forgetfulness him + whose first steps in life’s career promised such a radiant and glorious + course! + </p> + <p> + It matters not, however, what circumstances may have wrought out; the + representatives Salicetti and Albitte issued a decree in virtue of which + General Bonaparte was, after mature consideration and thorough examination + of his papers, declared innocent and free from all suspicion. + Consequently, Bonaparte was temporarily set at liberty; but he was + suspended from his command in the Italian army, and was recalled to Paris, + there to be made acquainted with his future destination. + </p> + <p> + This destination was pointed out to him in a commission as + brigadier-general of infantry in the province of Vendee, there to lead on + the fratricidal strife against the fanatical Chouans, the faithful + adherents of the king. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte refused this offer—first, because it seemed to him an + insulting request to ask him to fight against his own countrymen; and + secondly, because he did not wish to enter the infantry service, but to + remain in the artillery. + </p> + <p> + The Committee of Safety responded to this refusal of Bonaparte by striking + his name from the list of generals appointed for promotion, because he had + declined to go to the post assigned him. + </p> + <p> + This decision fell upon the ambitious, heroic young man like a + thunderbolt. He had dreamed of brilliant war deeds, of laurels, of fame, + of a glorious future, won for him by his own sword; and now, all at once, + he saw himself dragged away from this luminous track of fame upon which he + had so brilliantly entered—he saw himself thrust back into + obscurity, forgetfulness, and inactivity. + </p> + <p> + A gloomy, misanthropic sentiment took possession of him; and, though a + prophetic voice within said that the future still belonged to him, with + its fame, its laurels, its victories, yet inactivity, care, and the wants + of the present, hung with oppressive weight upon his mind. + </p> + <p> + He withdrew from all social joys and recreations, he avoided his + acquaintances, and only to a few friends did he open his foreboding heart; + only with these did he associate, and to them alone he made his complaints + of broken hopes, of life’s career destroyed. + </p> + <p> + To these few friends, whom Bonaparte in his misfortune found faithful and + unchanged, belonged the Ferment family, and above all belonged Junot, who + had come to Paris at the same time as Bonaparte, and who, though the + latter was dismissed from the service, continued to call himself the + adjutant of General Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + In the Permont family Napoleon was received with the same friendship and + attention as in former days; Madame de Permont retained ever for the son + of the friend of her youth, Letitia, a kindly smile, a genial sympathy, an + intelligent appreciation of his plans and wishes; her husband manifested + toward him all the interest of a parental regard; her son Albert was full + of tenderness and admiration for him; and her younger daughter Laura + jested and conversed with him as with a beloved brother. + </p> + <p> + In this house every thing seemed pleasant and friendly to Bonaparte; + thither he came every day, and mixed with the social circles, which + gathered in the evening in the drawing-rooms of the beautiful, witty + Madame de Permont; and where men even of diverging political sentiments, + aristocrats and ci-devants of the first water, were to be found. But + Madame de Permont had forbidden all political discussion in her saloon; + and General Bonaparte, now compelled to inactivity, dared no more show his + anger against the Committee of Safety, or against the Convention, than the + Count de Montmorency or any of the proud ladies of the former quarter of + St. Germain. + </p> + <p> + Not only the inactivity to which he was condemned, not only the + destruction of all his ambitious hopes, burdened the mind of Bonaparte, + but also the material pressure under which he now and then found himself, + and which seemed to him a shame and a humiliation. With gloomy grudge he + gazed at those young elegants whom he met on the Boulevards in splendid + toilet, on superb horses—at these incroyables who, in the first rays + of the sun of peace, from the soil of the republic, yet moist with blood, + had sprung up as so many mushrooms of divers colors and varied hues. + </p> + <p> + “And such men enjoy their happiness!” exclaimed Bonaparte, contemptuously, + as once in the Champs Elysees he sat before a coffee-house, near one of + those incroyables, and with violent emotion starting up, he pushed his + seat back and nearly broke the feet of his exquisitely dressed neighbor. + </p> + <p> + To be forgotten, to be set in the background, to be limited in means, was + always to him a source of anger, which manifested itself now in + impassioned vehemence, now in vague, gloomy dreaminess, from which he + would rise up again with some violent sarcasm or some epigrammatic remark. + </p> + <p> + But whilst he thus suffered, was in want, and had so much to endure, his + mind and heart were always busy. His mind was framing new plans to bring + to an end these days of inactivity, to open a new path of fame and glory; + his heart dreamed of a sweet bliss, of another new love! + </p> + <p> + The object of this love was the sister of his brother’s wife, the young + Desiree Clary. Joseph Bonaparte, who was now in Marseilles as + war-commissioner, had married there one of the daughters of the rich + merchant Clary; and her younger sister Desiree was the one to whom + Napoleon had devoted his heart. The whole Bonaparte family was now in + Marseilles, and had decided to make their permanent residence in France, + as their return to Corsica was still impossible; for General Paoli, no + longer able to hold the island, had called the English to his help, and + the assembled Consulta, over which Paoli presided, had invited the King of + England to become sovereign of the island. The French party, at whose head + had been the Bonaparte family, was overcome, and could no longer lift up + head or voice. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte came often to Marseilles to visit his family, which consisted of + his mother Letitia, her three daughters, her two younger sons, and her + brother, the Abbe Fesch. There, he had seen every day, in the house of his + brother, Desiree Clary, and the beautiful, charming maid had not failed to + leave in the heart of the young general a deep impression. Desiree seemed + to return this inclination, and a union of the two young lovers might soon + have taken place, if fate, in the shape of accident, had not prevented it. + </p> + <p> + Joseph was sent by the Committee of Safety to Genoa, with instructions; + his young wife and her sister Desiree accompanied him. Perhaps the new, + variable impressions of the journey, perhaps her separation from + Bonaparte, and her association with other officers less gloomy than the + saturnine Napoleon, all this seemed to cool the love of Desiree Clary; she + no more answered Napoleon’s letters, and, in writing to his brother + Joseph, he made bitter complaints: “It seems that to reach Genoa the River + Lethe must first be crossed, and therefore Desiree writes no more.” + [Footnote: See “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i.] + </p> + <p> + The only confidant to whom Bonaparte imparted these heart-complaints, was + Junot. He had for him no secrecy of his innermost and deepest + inclinations; to him he complained with grave and impassioned words of + Desiree’s changeableness; and Junot, whose worshipful love for his friend + could not understand that any maiden, were she the most beautiful and + glorious on earth, could ever slight the inclination of General Bonaparte, + Junot shared his wrath against Desiree, who had begun the rupture between + them by leaving unanswered two of Napoleon’s letters. + </p> + <p> + After having been angry and having complained in concert with Bonaparte, + Junot’s turn to be confidential had come. Bewildered, and blushing like a + young maid, he avowed to his dear general that he also loved, and that he + could hope for happiness and joy only if Napoleon’s younger sister, the + beautiful little Pauline, would be his wife. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte listened to him with a frowning countenance, and when Junot + ended by asking his mediation with Pauline’s mother, Napoleon asked in a + grave tone, “But, what have you to live upon? Can you support Pauline? Can + you, with her, establish a household which will be safe against want?” + </p> + <p> + Junot, radiant with joy, told him how, anticipating this question of + Napoleon, he had written to his father, and had asked for information in + regard to his means; and that his father had just now answered his + questions, and had replied that for the present he could not give him + anything, but that after his death the inheritance of his son would amount + to twenty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be one day rich,” exclaimed Junot, gayly, as he handed to + Napoleon the letter of his father, “for with my pay I will have an income + of twelve hundred livres. My general, I beseech you, write to the + Citoyenne Bonaparte; tell her that you have read the letter of my father, + and say a good word in my favor.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte did not at once reply. He attentively read the letter of Junot, + senior, then returned it to his friend, and with head sunk down upon his + breast he stared gloomily, with contracted eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “You answer not, general,” exclaimed Junot, in extreme anguish. “You do + not wish to be my mediator?” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte raised his head; his cheeks were paler than before, and a gloomy + expression was in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot write to my mother to make her this proposition,” said he, in a + rough, severe tone. “That is impossible, my friend. You say that one day + you will have an income of twelve hundred livres. That is, indeed, very + fair, but you have them not now. Besides, your father’s health is + remarkably good, and he will make you wait a long time. For the present + you have nothing; for your lieutenant’s epaulets can be reckoned as + nothing. As regards Pauline, she has not even that much. Let us then sum + up: you have nothing; she has nothing! What is the total amount? Nothing. + You cannot, therefore, be married now: let us wait. We shall, perhaps, + friend, outlive these evil days. Yes, we shall outlive them, even if I + have to become an exile, to seek for them in another portion of the world! + Let us, then, wait!” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s words.—See Abrantes, + “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 284.] + </p> + <p> + And a wondrous, mysterious brilliancy and flash filled the eyes of General + Bonaparte, as with a commanding voice he repeated, “Let us wait!” + </p> + <p> + Was this one of those few and pregnant moments in which the mind with + prophetic power gazes into the future? Had a corner of the veil which hid + the future been lifted up before the glowing eagle-eye of Napoleon, and + did he see the splendor and the glory of that future which were to be his? + However great his imagination, however ambitious his dreams, however wide + his hopes, yet they all were to be one day surpassed by the reality. For + would he not have considered a madman him, who, at this hour, would have + told him: “Smooth the furrows on your brow, Bonaparte; be not downcast + about the present. You are now in want, you are thrust aside; + forgetfulness and obscurity are now your lot; but be of good cheer, you + will be emperor, and all Europe will lie trembling at your feet. You love + the young Desiree Clary, and her indifference troubles you; but be of good + cheer, you will one day marry the daughter of a Caesar, and the little + Desiree, the daughter of a merchant from Marseilles, will one day be + Sweden’s queen! You refuse to Junot, your friend, the gratification of his + wishes, because he possesses nothing but his officer’s epaulets: but be of + good cheer, for you will one day convert the little Lieutenant Junot into + a duke, and give him a kingdom for a dowry! You feel downhearted and + ashamed, because your sister Pauline is not rich, because she possesses + nothing but her beauty and her name: but be of good cheer, she will one + day be the wife of the wealthiest prince of Italy; all the treasures of + art will be gathered in her palace, and yet she will be the most precious + ornament of that palace!” + </p> + <p> + Surely the General Bonaparte would have laughed at the madman, who, in the + year 1795, should have thus spoken to him—and yet a mere decade of + years was to suffice for the realization of all these prophecies, and to + turn the incredible into a reality. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. THE THIRTEENTH VENDEMIAIRE. + </h2> + <p> + The days of terror, and of blood, under which France has sighed so long, + were not to end with the fall of Robespierre. Another enemy of the rest + and peace of France had now made its entrance into Paris—hunger + began to exercise its dreary rale of horror, and to fill the hearts of men + with rage and despair. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere throughout France the crops had failed, and the republic had + too much to do with the guillotine, with the political struggles in the + interior, with the enemies on the frontier, she had been so busy with the + heads of her children, that she could have no care for the welfare of + their stomachs. + </p> + <p> + The corn-magazines were empty, and in the treasury of the republican + government there was no money to buy grain in foreign markets. Very soon + the want of bread, the cry for food, made itself felt everywhere; soon + hunger goaded into new struggles of despair the poor Parisian people, + already so weary with political storms, longing for rest, and exhausted by + conflicts. Hunger drove them again into politics, hunger converted the + women into demons, and their husbands into fanatical Jacobins. Every day, + tumults and seditious gatherings took place in Paris; the murmuring and + howling crowd threatened to rise up. Every day appeared at the bar of the + Convention the sections of Paris, entreating with wild cries for a remedy + for their distress. At every step in the streets one was met by + intoxicated women, who tried to find oblivion of their hunger in wine, and + to whom, notwithstanding their drunkenness, the consciousness of their + calamity remained. These drunken women, with the gestures of madness, + shouted: “Bread! give us bread! We had bread at least in the year ‘93! + Bread! Down with the republic! Down with the Convention, which leaves us + to starve!” + </p> + <p> + To these shouts responded other masses of the people: “Down with the + constitutionalists! Long live the Mountain! Long live the Convention!” + </p> + <p> + Civil war, which in its exhaustion had remained subdued for a moment, + threatened to break out with renewed rage, for the parties stood face to + face in determined hostility, and “Down with the constitutionalists!—down + with the republicans!” was the watchword of these parties. + </p> + <p> + For a moment it seemed as if the Mountain, as if the revolution, would + regain the ascendency, as if the terrorists would once more seize the + rudder which had slipped from their blood-stained hands. But the + Convention, which for a time had remained undecided, trembling and + vacillating, rose at length from its lethargy to firm, energetic measures, + and came to the determination to restore peace at any price. + </p> + <p> + The people, stirred up by the terrorists, the furious men of the Mountain, + had to be reduced to silence, and the cry, “Long live the constitution of + ‘93!—down with the Convention!”—this cry, which every day + rolled on through the streets of Paris like the vague thunderings of the + war-drum,—had to be put down by armed force. Barrere, Collot + d’Herbois, Billaud Varennes, the remnant of the sanguinary administration + of Robespierre, the terrorists who excited the people against the + Convention, who pressed on the Thermidorists, and wanted to occupy their + place, these were the ones who with their adherents and friends threatened + the Convention and imperilled its existence. The Convention rose up in its + might and punished these leaders of sedition, so as through fear and + horror to disperse the masses of the people. + </p> + <p> + Barrere, Collot d’Herbois, and Billaud Varennes, were arrested and sent to + Cayenne; six of their friends, six republicans and terrorists, were also + seized, and as they were convicted of forging plots against the Convention + and the actual administration, they were sentenced to death. A seventh had + also been at the head of this conspiracy; and this seventh one, who with + the others had been sentenced to death, and whom the Committee of Safety + had watched for everywhere, to bring down upon him the chastisement due, + this seventh one was Salicetti—the same Salicetti who after the fall + of Robespierre had arrested General Bonaparte as suspect. Bonaparte had + never forgiven him, and though he often met him in the house of Madame de + Permont, and appeared to be reconciled with him, yet he could not forget + that he was the one who had stopped him in the midst of his course of + fame, that it was he who had debarred him from his whole career. + </p> + <p> + “Salicetti has done me much harm,” said Bonaparte to Madame de Permont, + and a strange look from his eyes met her face—“Salicetti has + destroyed my future in its dawn. He has blighted my plans of fame in their + bud. I repeat, he has done me much harm. He has been my evil spirit. I can + never forget it,” but added he, thoughtfully, “I will now try to forgive.” + [Footnote: Abrantes, vol. i, p. 300.] + </p> + <p> + And again a peculiar, searching look of his eyes met the face of Madame de + Permont. + </p> + <p> + She, however, turned aside, she avoided his look, for she dared not tell + him that Salicetti, for whom the Convention searched throughout Paris so + as to bring upon him the execution of his death-warrant—that + Salicetti, whom Bonaparte so fiercely hated, was hid a few steps from him + in the little cabinet near the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Like Bonaparte, Salicetti was the countryman of Madame de Permont; in the + days of his power, he had saved the husband and the son of Panonia from + the persecution of the terrorists, and lie had now come to ask safety from + those whom he had once saved. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Permont had not had the courage to refuse an asylum to + Salicetti; she kept him secreted in her house for weeks; and during all + these weeks, Bonaparte came daily to visit Madame de Permont and her + children, and every day he turned the conversation upon Salicetti, and + asked if they knew not yet where he was secreted. And every time, when + Madame de Permont answered him in the negative, he gazed at her with a + piercing look, and with his light, sarcastic smile. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Salicetti’s danger for himself, and those who secreted him, + increased every day, and Madame de Permont resolved to quit Paris. The + sickness of her husband, who was in Toulon, furnished her with the + welcomed opportunity of a journey. She made known to the friends and + acquaintances who visited her house, and especially to Bonaparte, that she + had received a letter from the physician in Toulon, requesting her + presence at her husband’s bed of sickness. Bonaparte read the letter, and + again the same strange look met the face of Madame de Permont. + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, important,” said he, “that you should travel, and I advise + you to do so as soon as possible. Fatal consequences might ensue to M. de + Permont, were you to delay any longer in going to Toulon.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Permont made, therefore, all her arrangements for this journey. + Salicetti, disguised as a servant, was to accompany her. Bonaparte still + came as usual every day, and took great interest in the preparations for + her journey, and conversed with her in the most friendly and pleasant + manner. On the day of departure, he saluted her most cordially, assured + her of his true, unswerving attachment, and, with a final, significant + look, expressed a wish that her journey might be accomplished without + danger. + </p> + <p> + When Madame de Permont had overcome all difficulties, and she and her + daughter had left Paris and passed the barriere, as the carriage rolled on + without interruption (Salicetti, disguised as a servant, sitting near the + postilion on the driver’s seat), the housemaid handed to her a letter + which General Bonaparte had given her, with positive orders to hand it to + her mistress only when they should be beyond the outer gates of Paris. + </p> + <p> + The letter ran thus: “I have never been deceived: I would seem to be in + your estimation, if I did not tell you that, for the last twenty days, I + knew that Salicetti was secreted in your house. Remember what I told you + on the first day, Prairial, Madame de Permont—I had then the mental + conviction of this secrecy. Now it is a matter of fact.—Salicetti, + you see I could have returned to you the wrong which you perpetrated + against me, and by so doing I should have revenged myself, whilst you + wronged me without any offence on my part. Who plays at this moment the + nobler part, you or I? Yes, I could have revenged myself, and I have not + done it. You will, perhaps, say that your benefactress acted as a + protecting shield. That is true, and it also is taken into consideration. + Yet, even without this consideration, such as you were—alone, + disarmed, sentenced—your head would even then have been sacred to + me. Go, seek in peace a refuge where you can rise to nobler sentiments for + your country. My mouth remains closed in reference to your name, and will + no more utter it. Repent, and, above all things, do justice to my + intentions. I deserve it, for they are noble and generous. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Permont, my best wishes accompany you and your daughter. You + are two frail beings, without protection. Providence and prayers will + accompany you. Be prudent, and during your journey never stop in large + towns. Farewell, and receive the assurance of my friendship.” [Footnote: + Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 351.] + </p> + <p> + The nobility of mind which Bonaparte displayed toward his enemy was soon + to receive its reward; for, whilst Salicetti, a fugitive, sick, and + sentenced to death, was compelled to remain hidden, Bonaparte was emerging + from the oblivion to which the ambitious zeal of Salicetti would have + consigned him. + </p> + <p> + When Napoleon, dismissed from his position, arrived in Paris, and appealed + to Aubry, the chief of the war department, to be re-established in his + command, he was told: “Bonaparte is too young to command an army as + general-in-chief;” and Bonaparte answered: “One soon becomes old on the + battle-field, and I come from it.” [Footnote: Norvins, “Histoire de + Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 60.] + </p> + <p> + But Aubry, in his functions of chief of the war department, was soon + superseded by the representative Douclet de Ponte-Coulant, and this event + gave to the position of the young general a different aspect. + Ponte-Coulant had for some time followed with attention the course of the + young general, whose military talents and warlike reputation had filled + him with astonishment. He had especially been surprised at the plan for + the conduct of the war and the conquest of Italy which Bonaparte had laid + before the war committee. Now that Ponte-Coulant had been promoted to be + chief of the war department, he sent for General Bonaparte, and attached + him to the topographic committee, where the plans of campaigns were + decided and the movements of each separate corps delineated. + </p> + <p> + The forgotten one, doomed to inactivity, General Napoleon Bonaparte, now + arose from his obscurity, and before him again opened life, the world, and + fame’s pathway, which was to lead him up to a throne. But the envy and + jealousy of the party-men of the Convention ever threw obstacles before + him on his glorious course, and the war-scheme which he now unfolded to + the committee for the campaign did not receive the approbation of the + successor of Ponte-Coulant in the war department, and it was thrust aside. + A new political crisis was needed to place in the hands of Napoleon the + command of the army, the ruling authority over France, and this crisis was + at hand. + </p> + <p> + Paris, diseased, still bleeding in its innermost life with a thousand + wounds, was devoured by hunger. The unfortunate people, wretched from want + and pain, during many past years, were now driven to despair. The + political party leaders understood but too well how to take advantage of + this, and to prey upon it. The royalists were busy instilling into the + people’s minds the idea that the return of the Bourbons would restore to + miserable France peace and happiness. The terrorists told the people that + the Convention was the sole obstacle to their rest and to their peace, + that it was necessary to scatter it to the winds, and to re-establish the + Constitution of 1793. The whole population of Paris was divided and broken + into factions, struggling one against the other with infuriated passions. + The royalists, strengthened by daily accessions of emigrants, who, under + fictitious names and with false passports, returned to Paris to claim the + benefit of the milder laws passed in their favor, constituted a formidable + power in that city. Whole sections were devoted to them, and were secretly + supplied by them with arms and provisions, so as finally to be prepared to + act against the Convention. An occasion soon presented itself. + </p> + <p> + The Convention had, through eleven of its committee members, prepared a + new constitution, and had laid it before the people for adoption or + rejection, according to the majority of votes. The whole country, with the + exception of Paris, was in favor of this new constitution—she alone + in her popular assemblies rejected it, declared the Convention dissolved, + and the armed sections arose to make new elections. The Convection + declared these assemblies to be illegal, and ordered their dissolution. + The armed sections made resistance, congregated together, and by force + opposed the troops of the Convention—the National Guards—commanded + by General Menou. On the 12th Vendemiaire all Paris was under arms again; + barricades were thrown up by the people, who swore to die in their defence + sooner than to submit to the will of the Convention; the noise of drums + and trumpets was heard in every street; all the horrors and cruelties of a + civil war once more filled the capital of the revolution, and the city was + drunk with blood! + </p> + <p> + The people fought with the courage of despair, pressed on victoriously, + and won from General Menou a few streets; whole battalions of the National + Guards abandoned the troops of the Convention and went over to the + sections. General Menou found himself in so dangerous a position as to be + forced to conclude an armistice until the next day with the Section + Lepelletier, which was opposed to him, up to which time the troops on + either side were to suspend operations. + </p> + <p> + The Section Lepelletier declared itself at once en permanence, sent her + delegates to all the other sections, and called upon “the sovereign + people, whose rights the Convention wished to usurp,” to make a last and + decisive struggle. + </p> + <p> + The Convention found itself in the most alarming position; it trembled for + its very existence, and already in fancy saw again the days of terror, the + guillotine rising and claiming for its first victims the heads of the + members of the Convention. A pallid fear overspread all faces as + constantly fresh news of the advance of the sections reached them, when + General Menou sent news of the concluded armistice. + </p> + <p> + At this moment a pale young man rushed into the hall of session, and with + glowing eloquence and persuasive manner entreated the Convention not to + accept the armistice, not to give time to the sections to increase their + strength, nor to recognize them as a hostile power to war against the + government. + </p> + <p> + This pale young man—whose impassioned language filled the minds of + all his hearers with animosity against General Menou, and with fresh + courage and desire to fight—was Napoleon Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + After he had spoken, other representatives rushed to the tribune, to make + propositions to the Assembly, all their motions converging to the same end—all + desired to have General Menou placed under arrest, and Bonaparte appointed + in his place, and intrusted with the defence of the Convention and of the + legislative power against the people. + </p> + <p> + The Assembly accepted this motion, and appointed Bonaparte commanding + officer of the troops of the Convention, and, for form’s sake, named + Barras, president of the Convention, commander-in-chief. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte accepted the commission; and now, at last, after so much + waiting, so many painful months of inactivity, he found himself called to + action; he stood again at the head of an army, however small it might be, + and could again lift up the sword as the signal for the march to the + fight. + </p> + <p> + It is true this fight had a sad, horrible purpose; it was directed against + the people, against the sections which declared themselves to be the + committee of the sovereign people, and that they were fighting the holy + fight of freedom against those who usurped their rights. + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte had refused to go to Vendee, because he wished not to + fight against his own countrymen, and could not take part in a civil war; + but now, at this hour of extreme peril, he placed himself in opposition to + the people’s sovereignty, and assumed command over the troops of the + Convention, whose mission it was to subdue the people. + </p> + <p> + Every thing now assumed a more earnest attitude; during the night the + newly-appointed commanding officer sent three hundred chasseurs, under + Murat, to bring to Paris forty cannon from the park of artillery in + Sablons, and, when the morning of the 13th Vendemiaire began to dawn, the + pieces were already in position in the court of the Tuileries and pointed + against the people. Besides which, General Bonaparte had taken advantage + of the night to occupy all the important points and places, and to arm + them; even into the hall of session of the Convention he ordered arms and + ammunition to be brought, that the representatives might defend + themselves, in case they were pressed upon by the people. + </p> + <p> + As the sun of the 13th Vendemiaire rose over Paris, a terrible + street-fight began—the fight of the sovereign people against the + Convention. It was carried on by both sides with the utmost bitterness and + fierceness, the sections rushing with fanatic courage, with all the energy + of hatred, against these soldiers who dared slay their brothers and bind + their liberty in chains; the soldiers of the Convention fought with all + the bitterness which the consciousness of their hated position instilled + into them. + </p> + <p> + The cannon thundered in every street and mingled their sounds with the + cries of rage from the sectionnaires—the howlings of the women, the + whiz of the howitzers, the loud clangs of the bells, which incessantly + called the people to arms. Streams of blood flowed again through the + streets; everywhere, near the scattered barricades, near the houses + captured by storm, lay bloody corpses; everywhere resounded the cries of + the dying, the shrieks and groans of the wounded, the wild shouts of the + combatants. In the Church of St. Roche, and in the Theatre Francaise, the + sectionnaires, driven from the neighboring streets by the troops of + General Bonaparte, had gathered together and endeavored to defend these + places with the courage of despair. But the howitzers of Bonaparte soon + scattered them, and the contest was decided. + </p> + <p> + The sections were defeated; the people, conquered by the Convention, had + to recognize its authority; they were no more the sovereigns of France; + they had found a ruler before whom they must bow. + </p> + <p> + This ruler was yet called the Convention, but behind the Convention stood + another ruler—General Bonaparte! + </p> + <p> + It was he who had defeated the people, who had secured the authority to + the Convention, and it was therefore natural that it should be thankful + and exhibit its gratitude. General Bonaparte, in acknowledgment for the + great services done to his country, was by the Convention appointed + commander-in-chief of the army of the interior, and thus suddenly he saw + himself raised from degrading obscurity to pomp and influence, surrounded + by a brilliant staff, installed in a handsome palace by virtue of his + office as chief officer, entitled to and justified in maintaining an + establishment wherein to represent worthily the dignity of his new + position. + </p> + <p> + The 13th Vendemiaire, which dethroned the sovereign people, brought + General Bonaparte a step nearer to the throne. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. THE WIDOW JOSEPHINE BEAUHARNAIS. + </h2> + <p> + Meanwhile Josephine had passed the first months of her newly-obtained + freedom in quiet contentment with her children in Fontainebleau, at the + house of her father-in-law. Her soul, bowed down by so much misery and + pain, needed quietness and solitude to allow her wounds to cease bleeding + and to heal; her heart, which had experienced so much anguish and so many + deceptions, needed to rest on the bosom of her children and her relatives, + so as to be quickened into new life. Only in the solitude and stillness of + Fontainebleau did she feel well and satisfied; every other distraction, + every interruption of this quiet, orderly existence brought on a nervous + trembling, which mastered her whole body, as if some other adversity was + about to break upon her. The days of terror which she had passed in Paris, + and especially the days she had outlived in prison, were ever fresh before + her mind, and tormented her with their reminiscences alike in her vigils + and in her dreams. + </p> + <p> + She wanted to hear nothing of the world’s events, nothing from Paris, the + mention of which place filled her with fear and horror; and with tears in + her eyes she entreated her father-in-law to omit all mention of the + political changes and revolutions which took place there. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! the politics from which Josephine fled, to which she closed her + ears, rushed upon her against her will—they came to her in the shape + of want and privation. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who wished to have nothing more to do with the affairs of this + world, learned, through the deprivations which she had to endure, the want + to which she and her family were exposed, that the world had not yet been + pushed back into the old grooves, out of which the revolution had so + violently lifted it up; that the republic yet exercised a despotic + authority, and was not prepared to return to the heirs the property of the + victims of the guillotine! The income and property of General Beauharnais + had all been confiscated by the republic, for he had been executed as a + state criminal, and the procedure had this in common with the ordinary + actions of the government, that it never returned what it had once + usurped. Even Josephine’s father-in-law, as well as her aunt—Madame + de Renaudin, who, after her husband’s death, had been married to the + Marquis de Beauharnais—had both in the revolutionary storms lost all + their property, and saw themselves reduced to the last extremity. They + lived from day to day with the greatest economy, upon the smallest means, + and flattered themselves with the hope that justice would be done to the + innocent victims of the revolution; that at last to the widow and children + of the murdered General Beauharnais his income and property would be + returned. + </p> + <p> + Another hope remained to Josephine: reliance upon her relatives, + especially upon her mother in Martinique. She had written to her as soon + as she had obtained her liberty; she had entreated her mother, who had + been a widow for two years, to rent all her property in Martinique, and to + come to France, and at her daughter’s side to enjoy a few quiet years of + domestic happiness. + </p> + <p> + But this hope also was to be destroyed, for the revolution in Martinique + had committed the same devastations as in France, and the burning houses + of their masters had been the bonfires whose flames were sent up to heaven + by the newly-freed slaves in the name of the republic and of the rights of + man. Madame Tascher de la Pagerie had experienced the same fate as all the + planters in Martinique; her house and outbuildings had been burnt, her + plantations destroyed, and a long time would be required before the fields + could again be made to produce a harvest. Until then, Madame Tascher would + be sorely limited in her means, and, if she did not succeed in selling + some of her property and raising funds, would be without the money + necessary to bring under cultivation the remnant of her large plantation. + She was, therefore, not immediately prepared to supply her daughter with + any considerable assistance, and Josephine endured the anguish of seeing + not only herself and children, but also her dear mother, suffer through + want and privation. + </p> + <p> + To the need of gold to procure bare necessaries, was soon added the very + lack of them. Famine, with all its horrors, was at hand; the people were + clamoring for food, and the land-owners as well as the rich were suffering + from the want of that prime necessary of life-bread! The Convention had + adopted no measures to satisfy the demands of the howling populace, and it + had to remain contented with making accessible to all such provisions as + were in the land. One law, therefore, ordered all land-owners to deliver + to the state their stores of meal; a second law prohibited any person from + buying more than one pound of bread on the same day. The greatest delicacy + in those days of common wretchedness was white bread, and there were many + families that for a long time were unable to procure this luxury. + </p> + <p> + Josephine herself had with many others to endure this privation: the + costly white loaf was beyond her reach. In her depressed and sad lot the + unfortunate widowed viscountess remained in possession of a treasure for + which many of the wealthy and high-born longed in vain, and which neither + gold nor wealth could procure—Josephine possessed friends, true, + devoted friends, who forsook her not in the day of need, but stood the + more closely at her side, helping and loving. + </p> + <p> + Among these friends were, above all, Madame Dumoulin and M. Emery. Madame + Dumoulin, the wife of a wealthy purveyor of the republican army, was at + heart a true royalist, and had made it her mission, as much as was within + her power, to assist with her means the most destitute from whom the + revolution had taken their family joys and property. She aided with money + and clothing the unfortunate emigrants, who, as prominent and influential + friends of the king and of Old France, had abandoned their country, and + who now, as nameless, wretched beggars, returned home to beg of New France + the privilege at least to hunger and starve, and at last to die in their + motherland. Madame Dumoulin had always an open house for those aristocrats + and ci-devants who had the courage not to emigrate and to bow their + despised heads to all the fluctuations of the republic, and had remained + in France, though deprived by the republic of their ancestral names, + property, and rank. Those aristocrats who had not migrated found a + friendly reception in the house of the witty and amiable Madame Dumoulin, + and twice a week she gathered those friends of the ancient regime to a + dinner, which was prepared with all the luxury of former days, and which + offered to her friends, besides material enjoyment, the pleasures of an + agreeable and attractive company. + </p> + <p> + Among Madame Dumoulin’s friends who never failed to be present at these + dinners was Josephine de Beauharnais, of whom Madame Dumoulin said she was + the sunbeam of her drawing-room, for she warmed and vitalized all hearts. + But this sunbeam had not the power to bring forth out of the unfruitful + soil of the fatherland a few ears of wheat to turn its flour into white + bread. As every one was allowed to buy bread only according to the numbers + in the household, Madame Dumoulin could not give to her guests at dinner + any white bread, and on her cards of invitation was the then usual form, + “You are invited to bring a loaf of white bread.” + </p> + <p> + But it was beyond the means of the poor Viscountess de Beauharnais to + fulfil this invitation; her purse was not sufficient to afford her twice a + week the luxury of white bread. Madame Dumoulin, who knew this, came + kindly to the rescue of Josephine’s distress, and entreated her not to + trouble herself with bringing bread, but to allow her to procure it for + her friend. + </p> + <p> + Josephine accepted this offer with tears of emotion, and she never forgot + the goodness and kindness of Madame Dumoulin. In the days of her highest + glory she remembered her, and once, when empress, radiant with jewels and + ornaments of gold, as she stood in the midst of her court, related with a + bewitching smile, to the ladies around her, that there was a time when she + would have given a year of her life to possess but one of those jewels, + not to adorn herself therewith, but to sell it, so as to buy bread for her + children, and that in those days the excellent Madame Dumoulin had been a + benefactress to her, and that she had received at her hands the bread of + charity. [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Mad. + Ducrest, chap XXXVI.] + </p> + <p> + The same abiding friendship was shown to Josephine by M. Emery, a banker + who had a considerable business in Dunkirk, and who for many years had + been in mercantile relations with the family of Tascher de la Pagerie in + Martinique. Madame de la Pagerie had every year sent him the produce of + her sugar plantations, and he had attended to the sale to the largest + houses in Germany. He knew better than any one else the pecuniary + circumstances of the Pagerie family; he knew that, if at present Madame de + la Pagerie could not repay his advanced sums, her plantations would soon + produce a rich harvest, and even now be a sufficient security. M. Emery + was therefore willing to assist the daughter of Madame Tascher de la + Pagerie, and several times he advanced to Josephine considerable sums + which she had drawn upon her mother. + </p> + <p> + The cares of every-day life, its physical necessities, lifted Josephine + out of the sad melancholy in which she had lulled her sick, wounded heart, + within the solitude of Fontainebleau. She must not settle down in this + inactive twilight, nor wrap herself up in the gloomy gray veil of + widowhood! Life had still claims upon her; it called to her through her + children’s voices, for whom she had a future to provide, as well as + through the voice of her own youth, which she must not intrust hopelessly + to the gloomy Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + And the young mother dared not and wanted not to close her ears to these + calls; she arose from her supineness, and courageously resolved to begin + anew life’s battle, and to claim her share from the enjoyments and + pleasures of this world. + </p> + <p> + She first, by the advice of M. Emery, undertook a journey to Hamburg, to + make some arrangements with the rich and highly respectable banking-house + of Mathiesen and Sissen. Mathiesen, the banker, who had married a niece of + Madame de Genlis, had always shown the greatest hospitality to all + Frenchmen who had applied to him, and he had assisted them with advice and + deeds. To him Josephine appealed, at the request of M. Emery, so as to + procure a safe opportunity to send letters to her mother in Martinique, + and also to obtain from him funds on bills drawn upon her mother. + </p> + <p> + M. Mathiesen met her wishes with a generous pleasure, and through him + Josephine received sufficient sums of money to protect her from further + embarrassments and anxieties, at least until her mother, who was on the + eve of selling a portion of her plantation, could send her some money. + </p> + <p> + On her return from her business-journey to Hamburg, as she was no longer a + poor widow without means, she adopted the courageous resolution of leaving + her asylum and returning to dangerous and deserted Paris, there to prepare + for her son an honorable future, and endeavor to procure for her daughter + an education suited to her rank and capacities. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the year 1795, Josephine returned with her two children to + Paris, which one year before she had left so sorrowfully and so + dispirited. + </p> + <p> + What changes had been wrought during this one year! How the face of things + had been altered! The revolution had bled to death. The thirteenth + Vendemiaire had scattered to the winds the seditious elements of + revolution, and the republic was beginning quietly and peacefully to grow + into stature. The Convention, with its Mountain, its terrorists, its + Committee of Safety, its persecutions and executions, had outlived its + power, which it had consigned to the pages of history with so many tears + and so much blood. In a strange contradiction with its own bloody deeds, + it celebrated the last day of its existence by a law which, as a farewell + to the thousand corpses it had sacrificed to the revolution, it had + printed on its gory brow. On the day of its dissolution the Convention + gave to France this last law: “Capital punishment is forever abolished.” + [Footnote: Norvins, “Histoire de Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 82.] + </p> + <p> + With this farewell kiss, this love-salutation to the France of the future, + to the new self-informing France, the Convention dissolved itself, and in + its stead came the Council of Elders, the Council of Five Hundred, and + lastly the Directory, composed of five members, among whom had been + elected the more eminent members of the Convention, namely, Barras and + Carnot. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s first movement in Paris was to find the lovely friend whom she + made in the Carmelite prison, and to whom she in some measure owed her + life, to visit Therese de Fontenay and see if the heart of the beautiful, + celebrated woman had in its days of happiness and power retained its + remembrances of those of wretchedness and mortal fears. + </p> + <p> + Therese de Fontenay was now the wife of Tallien, who, elected to the + Council of the Five Hundred, continued to play an influential and + important part, and therefore had his court of flatterers and time-serving + friends as well as any ruling prince. His house was one of the most + splendid in Paris; the feasts and banquets which took place there reminded + one, by their extravagant magnificence, of the days of ancient Rome, and + that this remembrance might still be more striking, ladies in the rich, + costly costumes of patrician matrons of ancient Rome appeared at those + festivities not unworthy of a Lucullus. Madame Tallien—in the ample + robe of wrought gold of a Roman empress, shod with light sandals, from + which issued the beautiful naked feet, and the toes adorned with costly + rings, her exquisitely moulded arms ornamented with massive gold + bracelets; her short curly hair fastened together by a gold bandelet, + which rose over the forehead in the shape of a diadem, bejewelled with + precious diamonds; the mantle of purple, fringed with gold and placed on + the shoulders—was in this costume of such a wonderful beauty, that + men gazed at her with astonishment and women with envy. + </p> + <p> + And this beautiful woman, often worshipped and adored, though sometimes + slandered, had amid her triumphs kept a faithful remembrance of the past. + She received Josephine with the affection of a true friend. In her + generosity she allowed her no time to proffer any request, but came + forward herself with offers to intercede for her friend, and to use all + the means at her disposal, omitting nothing that would help Josephine to + recover her fortune, her lost property. With all the eagerness of true + love she took the arm of her friend and led her to Tallien, and with the + enchanting smile and attitude of a commanding princess she told him that + he must help Josephine to become happy again, that every thing he could do + for her would be rewarded by an increasing love; that if he did not do + justice to Josephine, she would punish him by her anger and coldness. + </p> + <p> + Tallien listened with complacency to the praiseworthy commands of his + worshipped Therese, and promised to use all his influence to have justice + done to the will of the sacrificed General de Beauharnais. He himself + accompanied Josephine to Barras, that she might present her application to + him personally and request at his hands restitution of her property. She + was received by Barras, as well as by the other four directors, with the + greatest politeness; each promised to attend to her case and to return to + the widow and to the children of Alexandre de Beauharnais the property + which had been so unjustly taken from them. + </p> + <p> + It is true, weeks and months of waiting and uncertainty passed away, but + Josephine had hope for a comforter; she had, besides, her beautiful friend + Therese Tallien, who with affectionate eloquence endeavored to instil + courage into Josephine, and by her constant petitions and prayers did not + allow the Directory, amid its many important affairs of government, to + forget the case of the poor young widow. Therese took care also that + Josephine should appear in society at the receptions and balls given by + the members of the new government; and when made timid through misfortune, + and depressed at heart by the uncertainty of her narrow lot, she desired + to keep aloof from these rejoicings, Therese knew how to convince her that + she must sacrifice her love of retirement to her children; that it was her + duty to accept the invitations of the Directory, so as to keep alive their + interest and favor in her behalf; and that, were she to retreat into + solitude and obscurity, she would thereby imperil her future and that of + her children. + </p> + <p> + Josephine submitted to this law of necessity, and appeared in society. She + screened her cares and her heartsores under the covert of smiles, she + forced herself into cheerfulness, and when now and then the smile vanished + from her lip and tears filled her eyes, she thought of her children, and, + mastering her sorrows, she was again the beautiful, lovely woman, whose + elegant manners and lively and witty conversation charmed and astonished + every one. + </p> + <p> + At last, after long months of uncertainty, Therese Tallien, her face + beaming with joy, came one morning to visit her friend Josephine, and + presented to her a paper with a large seal, which Tallien had given her + that very morning. + </p> + <p> + It was an order, signed by the five directors, instructing the + administrator of the domains to relieve the capital and the property of + General Beauharnais from the sequestration laid upon them, and also to + remove the seals from his furniture and his movables, and to reinstate the + Widow Beauharnais in possession of all the property left by her husband. + </p> + <p> + Josephine received this paper with tears of joy, and, full of religious, + devout gratitude, she fell on her knees and cried: + </p> + <p> + “I thank Thee, my God! I thank Thee! My children will no more suffer from + want, and now I can give them a suitable education.” + </p> + <p> + She then fell upon her friend’s neck, thanking her for her faithfulness, + and swore her everlasting friendship and affection. + </p> + <p> + The dark clouds which had so long overshadowed Josephine’s life were now + gone, and in its place dawned day, bright and clear. + </p> + <p> + But the sun which was to illumine this day with wondrous glory had not yet + appeared. Therese at this hour reminded her friend of a day in prison when + Josephine had assured her friends trembling for her life that she was not + going to die, that she would one day be Queen of France. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Josephine, smiling and thoughtful, “who knows if this prophecy + will not be fulfilled? To-day begins for me a new life. I have done with + the past, and it will sink behind me in the abyss of oblivion. I trust in + the future! It must repay me for all the tears and anxieties of my past + life, and who knows if it will not erect me a throne?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. THE NEW PARIS. + </h2> + <p> + Yes, they were now ended, the days of sufferings and privations! The wife + of General Beauharnais was no more the poor widow who appeared as a + petitioner in the drawing-rooms of the members of the Directory, and often + obliged, even in the worst kind of weather, to go on foot to the festivals + of Madame Tallien, because she lacked the means to pay for a cab; she was + no longer the poor mother who had to be satisfied to procure inferior + teachers for her children, because she could not possibly pay superior + ones. + </p> + <p> + Now, as by a spell, all was changed, and gold was the magic wand which had + produced it. Thanks to this talisman, the Viscountess de Beauharnais could + now quit the small, remote, gloomy dwelling in which she had hitherto + resided, and could again procure a house, gather society round about her, + and, above all things, provide for the education of her children. + </p> + <p> + This was her dearest duty, her most important obligation, with which she + busied herself even before she rented a modestly-furnished room. Her + Eugene, the darling of her heart, desired like his father to devote + himself to a military life, and his mother took him to a boarding-school + in St. Germain, where young men of distinguished families received their + education. Her twelve-year-old daughter Hortense, of whom Josephine had + said, “She is my angel with the gold locks, who alone can smile away the + tears from my eyes and sorrow from my heart”—Hortense entered the + newly-opened educational establishment of Madame Campan, once the + lady-in-waiting of Marie Antoinette. Josephine wept hot tears as she + accompanied her Hortense into the boarding-school, and, embracing her + blond curly-haired angel, she closely pressed her to her heart, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Judge how much I love you, my daughter, since I have the courage to leave + you and to deprive myself of the greatest of my life’s enjoyments! Ah, I + shall be very lonesome, Hortense, but my thoughts will be with you + continually—with you and your brother Eugene. Live to be an honor to + your father, grow and prosper to be your mother’s happiness!” + </p> + <p> + Then with a kiss she took leave of her daughter, and comfortless and alone + she returned to her solitary apartments in Paris. + </p> + <p> + During the next eight days her doors were shut; she opened them to none, + not even to her friend Therese, and not once did Josephine leave her + dwelling during this time, nor did she accept any of the invitations which + came to her from all sides. + </p> + <p> + Her heart was yet wrapped in mourning for her separation from her + children, and, with all the intensity of an affectionate mother’s love, + she preferred leaving her anguish to die out of itself than to suppress it + with amusements and pleasures. + </p> + <p> + But after this last sorrow had been overcome, Josephine, with serenity and + a smile of cheerfulness, came again from her solitude into the world which + called her forth with all its voices of joy, pleasure, and flattery. And + Josephine no longer closed her ears to these sweet attractive voices. She + had long enough suffered, wept, fasted; now she ought to reap enjoyments, + and gather her portion of this life’s pleasures; now she must live! The + past had set behind her, and, as one new-born or risen from the dead, + Josephine walked into the world with a young maiden heart, and a mind + opened to all that is beautiful, great, and good; her soul filled with + visions, hopes, desires, and dreams. Out of the widow’s veil came forth + the young, charming Creole, and her radiant eyes saluted the world with + intelligent looks and an expression of the most attractive goodness. + </p> + <p> + Her next care was to procure a pleasant, convenient home suited to her + rank. She purchased from the actor Talma a house which he possessed in the + Street Chautereine, and where he had, during the storms of the revolution, + received his friends as well as all the literary, artistic, and political + notables of the day with the kindest hospitality. It was not a brilliant, + distinguished hotel, no splendid building, but a small, tastefully and + conveniently arranged house, with pretty rooms, a cheerful drawing-room, + lovely garden, exactly suited to have therein a quiet, agreeable, informal + pastime. Josephine possessed in the highest degree the art of her sex to + furnish rooms with elegance and taste, so as to make every one in them + comfortable, satisfied, at ease, and cheerful. + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room of the widow of General Beauharnais became soon the + central point where all her friends of former days found themselves + together again, and all the remnants of the good old society found + reception; where the learned, the artist, the poet, met with a refuge, + there to rest for a few hours from political strife, to put aside the + serpent’s skin of assumed republican manners, and again assume the tone + and forms of the higher society. Such drawing-rooms in these revolutionary + days were extremely few; no one dared to become conspicuous; every one was + reserved and quiet; every one shrank from making himself suspected of + being a ci-devant, even if under the republican toga he left visible his + dress-coat of the upper society with its embroidery of gold. Men had + entirely broken with the past, wishing to deny it, and not be under the + yoke of its forms and rules; it was therefore necessary, out of the chaos + of the republic, to create a new world, a new society, new forms of + etiquette, and new fashions. Meanwhile, until these new fashions for + republican France should be found, men had recourse (so as not to go back + to the days of the late monarchy of France) to the republics of olden + times; the ladies dressed according to the patterns of the old statues of + the deities of Greece and Rome, giving receptions in the style of ancient + Greece, and banquets laid out in all the extravagant splendors of a + Lucullus. + </p> + <p> + The members of the republican Directory, whose residence was in the palace + of the Luxemburg, took the lead in all these neo-Grecian and neo-Roman + festivities; and, whereas they loudly proclaimed that it was necessary to + furnish opportunities to the working-classes and laborers to gain money, + and that it was incumbent on all to promote industry, they rivalled each + other in their efforts to exhibit an extravagant pomp and a brilliant + display. On reception-days of the members of the Directory the public + streamed in masses toward the Luxemburg, there to admire the splendors of + the five monarchs, and to rejoice that the days of the carmagnoles, the + sans-culottes, the dirty blouse, and the bonnet rouge were at least gone + by. The five directors, to the delight of the Parisian people, wore costly + silk and velvet garments embroidered with gold, and on their hats, trimmed + also with gold lace, waved large ostrich-plumes. + </p> + <p> + Luxury celebrated its return to Paris, after having had to secrete itself, + so long from the blood-stained hands of the sans-culottes, in the most + obscure corners of the deserted palaces of St. Germain. Pleasure, which + had fled away horrified from the guillotine and from the terrorists, dared + once more to show its rose-wreathed brow and smiling countenance, and here + and there make its cheerful festivities resound. + </p> + <p> + Men became glad, and dared to laugh again; they came out from the + stillness of their homes, which anxiety had kept closed, to search for + amusement, pleasure, and recreation; but no citizen dared to be select, + none dared to assume aristocratic exclusiveness. One had to be pleased + with a dinner at a tavern; with a glass of ice-water in a cafe, or to take + part in a public ball which was opened to every one who could pay his fee + of admission; and especially in the evening the public rushed to the + theatre with the same eagerness that was exhibited in the morning to reach + the shops of the bakers and butchers, where each received his portion of + meat or bread by producing a card signed by the circuit commissioners. In + front of these shops, as well as in front of the theatres, the pressure + was so great that for hours it was necessary to fall into line, and + sometimes go away dissatisfied; for the republic had yet retained the + system of equality, so that the rich and the influential were not served + any sooner than the poor and the unknown; there was only one exception: + only one condition received distinction before the baker’s shop and the + theatre: it was that of the mothers of the future, those women whose + external appearance revealed that they would soon bring forth a future + citizen, a new soldier for the republic, which had lost so many of its + sons upon the scaffold and on the battle-field. + </p> + <p> + It was so long that one had been deprived of laughter and merriment, and + had walked with sad countenance and grave solemnity through the days of + blood and terror, that now every occasion for hilarity was received + eagerly and thankfully, and every opportunity for mirth and amusement + sought out. The theatres were therefore filled every evening with an + attentive, thankful audience; every jest of the actor, every part well + performed, elicited enthusiastic approbation. It is true no one yet dared + act any other pieces than those which had reference to the revolution, and + in some shape or other celebrated the republic, accusing and vilifying the + royalists. The pieces represented were—“The Perfect Equality,” or + else “Thee and Thou,” “The Last Trial of the Queen,” “Tarquin, or the Fall + of the Monarchy,” “Marat’s Apotheosis,” and similar dramas, all infused + with republicanism; still, men faint at heart and satiated with the + republic, hastened notwithstanding to the theatre, to enjoy an hour of + recreation and merriment. + </p> + <p> + To be cheerful, happy, and joyous, seemed now to the Parisians the highest + duty of life, and every thing was made subservient to it. The people had + wept and mourned so long, that now, to shake off this oppressive heaviness + of mind, they rushed with fanatical precipitancy into pleasure; they gave + themselves up to the wildest orgies and bacchanals, and without disgust or + shame abandoned themselves to the most immoral conduct. All tears were + dried up as if by magic; honest poverty began to be ashamed of itself; and + the wealth so carefully hid until now, was again brought to light; even + those who in the days of revolutionary terror had become rich through the + property of the sacrificed victims, exposed themselves to public gaze with + impunity and without shame. They plundered and adorned themselves with a + wealth acquired only through cunning, treachery, and murder. Everywhere + feasts, banquets, and balls, were organized; and it was an ordinary event + to find in the same company the accuser and the accused, the executioner + and his victim, the murderer near the daughter of the man whose head he + had given over to the guillotine! + </p> + <p> + This was especially the case at the so-called victim balls (bals a la + victime) which were given by the heirs, the sons and fathers of those who + had perished by the guillotine. People gathered together in brilliant + entertainments and balls to the honor and memory of the executed ones. + Every one who could pay the large fee of admission to these bals a la + victime were permitted to enter. Those who came there, not for pleasure, + but to honor their dead, showed this intention by their clothing, and + especially by the arrangement of their hair. To remind them that those who + had been led to the guillotine had had their hair cut close, gentlemen now + had theirs cut short, and the dressing of the hair a la victime was for + gentlemen as much a fashion as the dressing of the hair a la Titus (the + Roman emperor) was for the ladies. Besides this, the heirs of the victims + wore some token of the departed ones, and ladies and gentlemen were seen + in the blood-stained garments which their relatives had worn on their way + to the scaffold, and which they had purchased with large sums of money + from the executioner, that lord of Paris. It often happened that a lady in + the blood-stained dress of her mother danced with the son of the man who + had delivered her mother to the guillotine; that a son of a member of the + Convention of 1793 led, in the minuet, the graceful “pas de chale,” with + the daughter of an emigrant marquis. The most fanatical men of the days of + terror, now exalted into wealthy land-owners, led on in the gay waltz the + daughters of their former landlords; and these women pressed the hand + soiled with the blood of their relatives because now, as amends for their + traffic in blood, they could offer future wealth and distinction. + </p> + <p> + It seemed that all Paris and all France had gone mad—that the whole + nation was drunk with blood as with intoxicating wine, and wanted to + stifle the voice of conscience in the horrible revelry of the saturnalia. + </p> + <p> + Josephine never took part in these public balls and festivities; never did + the widow of General Beauharnais, one of the victims of the revolution, + attend these bals a la victime, where man prided himself on his misfortune + and gloried in his sorrows. The Moniteur—which then gave daily + notices of the balls and amusements that were to take place in Paris, so + as to let the world know how cheerful and happy every one felt there, and + which made it its business to publish the names of the ci-devants and + ex-nobles who had partaken in these festivities—never in its long + and correct list mentions the name of the widow of General Beauharnais. + </p> + <p> + Josephine kept aloof from all these wild dissipations—these balls + and banquets. She would neither dance, nor adorn herself in the memory of + her husband; she would not take a part in the splendid festivities of a + republic which had murdered him, and had pierced her loyal heart with the + deepest wounds. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE FIRST INTERVIEW. + </h2> + <p> + In the midst of these joys and amusements of the new-growing Paris, the + storm of the thirteenth Vendemiaire launched forth its destructive + thunderbolts, and another rent was made in the lofty structure of the + republic. The royalists, who had cunningly frequented these bals a la + victime, to weave intrigues and conspiracies, found their webs scattered, + and the republic assumed a new form. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon with his sword had cut to pieces the webs and snares of the + royalists as well as of the revolutionists, and France had to bow to the + constitution. In the Tuileries now sat the Council of the Elders; in the + Salle du Manege sat the Five Hundred; and in the palace of Luxemburg + resided the five directors of the republic. + </p> + <p> + On the thirteenth Vendemiaire Paris had passed through a crisis of its + revolutionary disease; and, to prevent its falling immediately into + another, it permitted the newly-appointed commander-in-chief of the army + of the interior of France, General Napoleon Bonaparte, to have every house + strictly searched, and to confiscate all weapons found. + </p> + <p> + Even into the house of the Viscountess de Beauharnais, in the rue + Chantereine, came the soldiers of the republic to search for secreted + weapons. They found there the sword of Alexandre de Beauharnais, which + certainly Josephine had not hidden, for it was the chief ornament of her + son’s room. When Eugene, on the next Saturday, came to Paris from St. + Germain, as he did every week, to pass the Sunday in his mother’s house, + to his great distress he saw vacant on the wall the place where the sword + of his father had been hanging. With trembling voice and tears in her eyes + his mother told him that General Bonaparte, the new commander-in-chief, + had ordered the sword to be carried away by his soldiers. + </p> + <p> + A cry of anger and of malediction was Eugene’s answer; then with flaming + eyes and cheeks burning with rage he rushed out, despite the supplications + of his affrighted and anxious mother. Without pausing, without thinking—conscious + only of this, that he must have again his father’s sword, he rushed on. It + was impossible, thought he, that the republic which had deprived his + father of the honors due to him, his property, his money—that now, + after his death, she should also take away his sword. + </p> + <p> + He must have this sword again! This was Eugene’s firm determination, and + this made him bold and resolute. He rushed into the palace where the + general-in-chief, Bonaparte, resided, and with daring vehemence demanded + an interview with the general; and, as the door-keeper hesitated, and even + tried to push away the bold boy from the door of the drawing-room, Eugene + turned about with so much energy, spoke, scolded, and raged so loudly and + so freely, that the noise reached even the cabinet where General Bonaparte + was. He opened the door, and in his short, imperious manner asked the + cause of this uproar; and when the servant had told him, with a sign of + the hand he beckoned the young man to come in. + </p> + <p> + Eugene de Beauharnais entered the drawing-room with a triumphant smile, + and the eye of General Bonaparte was fixed with pleasure on the beautiful, + intelligent countenance, on the tall, powerful figure of the + fifteen-year-old boy. In that strange, soft accent which won hearts to + Napoleon, he asked Eugene his business. The young man’s cheeks became + pallid, and with tremulous lips and angry looks, the vehement eloquence of + youth and suffering, Eugene spoke of the loss he had sustained, and of the + pain which had been added to it by despoiling him of the sword of his + father, murdered by the republic. + </p> + <p> + At these last words of Eugene, Bonaparte’s brow was overshadowed, and an + appalling look met the face of the brave boy. + </p> + <p> + “You dare say that the republic has murdered your father?” asked he, in a + loud, angry voice. + </p> + <p> + “I say it, and I say the truth!” exclaimed Eugene, who did not turn away + his eyes from the flaming looks of the general. “Yes, the republic has + murdered my father, for it has executed him as a criminal, as a traitor to + his country, and he was innocent; he ever was a faithful servant of his + country and of the republic.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you that it was so?” asked Bonaparte, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “My heart and the republic itself tell me that my father was no traitor,” + exclaimed Eugene, warmly. “My mother loved him much, and she regrets him + still. She would not do so had he been a traitor, and then the republic + would not have done what it has done—it would not have returned to + my mother the confiscated property of my father, but would, had he been + considered guilty, have gladly kept it back.” + </p> + <p> + The grave countenance of Bonaparte was overspread by a genial smile, and + his eyes rested with the expression of innermost sympathy on the son of + Josephine. + </p> + <p> + “You think, then, that the republic gladly keeps what it has?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + “I see that it gladly takes what belongs not to it,” exclaimed Eugene, + eagerly. “It has taken away my father’s sword, which belonged to me, his + son, and my mother has made me swear on that sword to hold my father’s + memory sacred, and to strive to be like him.” + </p> + <p> + “Your mother is, it seems, a very virtuous old lady,” said Bonaparte, in a + friendly tone. + </p> + <p> + “My mother is a virtuous, young, and beautiful lady,” said Eugene, + sturdily; “and I am certain, general, that if you knew her, you would not + in your heart have caused her so much pain.” + </p> + <p> + “She has, then, suffered much on account of this sword being taken away?” + asked Bonaparte, interested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, general, she has wept bitterly over this our loss, as I have. I + cannot bear to see my mother weep; it breaks my heart. I therefore implore + you to give me back my father’s sword; and I swear to you that when I am a + man, I will carry that sword only for the defence of my country, as my + father had done.” + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte nodded kindly to the boy. “You are a brave defender of + your cause,” said he, “and I cannot refuse you—I must do as you + wish.” + </p> + <p> + He gave orders to an ordnance officer present in the room to bring General + de Beauharnais’s sword; and when the officer had gone to fetch it, + Bonaparte, in a friendly and sympathizing manner, conversed with the boy. + At last the ordnance officer returned, and handed the sword to the + general. + </p> + <p> + With solemn gravity Bonaparte gave it to Eugene. “Take it, young man,” + said he, “but never forget that you have sworn to carry it only for the + honor and defence of your country.” + </p> + <p> + Eugene could not answer: tears started from his eyes, and with deep + affection he pressed to his lips the recovered sword of his father. + </p> + <p> + This manifestation of true childish emotion moved Bonaparte to tender + sympathy, and an expression of affectionate interest passed over his + features as he offered his hand to Eugene. + </p> + <p> + “By Heaven, you are a good son,” exclaimed he from his heart, “and you + will be one day a good son to your country! Go, my boy, take to your + mother your father’s sword. Tell her that I salute her, though unknown to + her—that I congratulate her in being the mother of so good and brave + a son.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the beginning of an acquaintance to which Josephine was indebted + for an imperial crown, and, for what is still greater, an undying fame and + an undying love. + </p> + <p> + Beaming with joy, Eugene returned to Josephine with his father’s sword, + and with all the glowing sentiments of thankfulness he related to her how + kindly and obligingly General Bonaparte had received him, what friendly + and affectionate words he had spoken to him, and how much forbearance and + patience he had manifested to his impassioned request. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s maternal heart was sensitive and grateful for every expression + of sympathy toward her son, and the goodness and forbearance of the + general affected her the more, that she knew how bold and wild the boy, + smarting under pain, must have been. She therefore hastened to perform a + duty of politeness by calling the next day on General Bonaparte, to thank + him for the kindness he had shown Eugene. + </p> + <p> + For the first time General Bonaparte stood in the presence of the woman + who one day was to share his fame and greatness, and this first moment was + decisive as to his and her future. Josephine’s grace and elegance, her + sweetness of disposition, her genial cheerfulness, the expression of lofty + womanhood which permeated her whole being, and which protected her + securely from any rough intrusion or familiarity; her fine, truly + aristocratic bearing, which revealed at once a lady of the court and of + the great world; her whole graceful and beautiful appearance captivated + the heart of Napoleon at the first interview, and the very next day after + receiving her short call he hastened to return it. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was not alone when General Bonaparte was announced; and when the + servant named him she could not suppress an inward fear, without knowing + why she was afraid. Her friends, who noticed her tremor and blush, laughed + jestingly at the timidity which made her tremble at the name of the + conqueror of Paris, and this was, perhaps, the reason why Josephine + received General Bonaparte with less complacency than she generally showed + to her visitors. + </p> + <p> + Amid the general silence of all those present the young general + (twenty-six years old) entered the drawing-room of the Viscountess de + Beauharnais; and this silence, however flattering it might be to his + pride, caused him a slight embarrassment. He therefore approached the + beautiful widow with a certain abrupt and perplexed manner, and spoke to + her in that hasty, imperious tone which might become a general, but which + did not seem appropriate in a lady’s saloon. General Pichegru, who stood + near Josephine, smiled, and even her amiable countenance was overspread + with a slight expression of scorn, as she fixed her beautiful eyes on this + pale, thin little man, whose long, smooth hair fell in tangled disorder on + either side of his temples over his sallow, hollow cheeks; whose whole + sickly and gloomy appearance bore so little resemblance to the majestic + figure of the lion to which he had been so often compared after his + success of the thirteenth Vendemiaire. + </p> + <p> + “I perceive, general,” suddenly exclaimed Josephine, “that you are sorry + it was your duty to fill Paris once more with blood and horror. You would + undoubtedly have preferred not to be obliged to carry out the bloody + orders of the affrighted Convention?” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders somewhat. “That is very possible,” said + he, perfectly quiet. “But what can you expect, madame? We military men are + but the automatons which the government sets in motion according to its + good pleasure; we know only how to obey; the sections, however, cannot but + congratulate themselves that I have spared them so much. Nearly all my + cannon were loaded only with powder. I wanted to give a little lesson to + the Parisians. The whole affair was nothing but the impress of my seal on + France. Such skirmishes are only the vespers of my fame.” [Footnote: + Napoleon’s words.—See Le Normand, vol. i., p. 214.] + </p> + <p> + Josephine felt irritated, excited by the coldness with which Napoleon + spoke of the slaughter of that day; and her eyes, otherwise so full of + gentleness, were now animated with flashes of anger. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” cried she, “if you must purchase fame at such a price, I would + sooner you were one of the victims!” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte looked at her with astonishment, but as he perceived her flushed + cheeks and flashing eyes, the sight of her grace and beauty ravished him, + and a soft, pleasant smile suddenly illumined his countenance. He answered + her violent attack by a light pleasantry, and with gladsome unaffectedness + he gave to the conversation another turn. The small, pale, gloomy general + was at once changed into a young, impassioned, amiable cavalier, whose + countenance grew beautiful under the sparkling intelligence which animated + it, and whose enchanting eloquence made his conversation attractive and + lively, carrying with it the conviction of a superior mind. + </p> + <p> + After the visitors who had met that morning in Josephine’s drawing-room + had departed the general still remained, notwithstanding the astonished + and questioning looks of the viscountess, paying no attention to her + remarks about the fine weather, or her intention to enjoy a promenade. + With rapid steps, and hands folded behind his back, he paced a few times + to and fro the room, then standing before Josephine he fixed on her face a + searching look. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said he, suddenly, with a kind of rough tone, “I have a + proposition to make: give me your hand. Be my wife!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine looked at him, half-astonished, half-irritated. “Is it a joke + you are indulging in?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I speak in all earnestness,” said Bonaparte, warmly. “Will you do me the + honor of giving me your hand?” + </p> + <p> + The gravity with which Bonaparte spoke, the deep earnestness imprinted on + his features, convinced Josephine that the general would not condescend to + indulge in a joke of so unseemly a character, and a lovely blush + overspread the face of the viscountess. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said she, “who knows if I might not be inclined to accept your + distinguished offer, if, unfortunately, fate stood not in the way of your + wishes?” + </p> + <p> + “Fate?” asked Bonaparte, with animation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, fate! my general,” repeated Josephine, smiling. “But let us speak no + more of this. It is enough that fate forbids me to be the wife of General + Bonaparte. I can say no more, for you would laugh at me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you would laugh at me if you could turn me away with so vague an + answer,” cried Bonaparte, with vivacity. “I pray you, explain the meaning + of your words.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, general, I cannot be your wife, for I am destined to be Queen + of France—yes, perhaps more than queen!” + </p> + <p> + It was now Bonaparte’s turn to appear astonished and irritated, and using + her own words he said, shrugging his shoulders, “Madame, is it a joke you + are indulging in?” + </p> + <p> + “I speak in all earnestness,” said Josephine, shaking her head. “Listen, + then: a negro-woman in Martinique foretold my fortune, and as her oracular + words have thus far been all fulfilled, I must conclude that the rest of + her prophecies concerning me will be realized.” + </p> + <p> + “And what has she prophesied to you?” asked Bonaparte, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “She has told me: ‘You will one day be Queen of France! you will be still + more than queen!’” + </p> + <p> + The general was silent. He had remained standing; but now slowly paced the + room a few times, his hands folded on his back and his head inclined on + his breast. Then again he stood before the viscountess, and his eyes + rested upon her with a wondrous bright and genial expression. + </p> + <p> + “I bid defiance to fate,” said he, somewhat solemnly. “This prophecy does + not frighten me away, and in defiance of your prophetic negro-woman, I, + the republican general, address my prayer to the future Queen of France: + be my wife!—give me your hand.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine felt almost affrighted at this pertinacity of the general, and a + sentiment of apprehension overcame her as she looked into the pale, + decided countenance of this man, a stranger to her, and who claimed her + for his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” exclaimed she, with some anguish, “you offer me your hand with + as much carelessness as if the whole matter were merely for a + contra-dance. But I can assure you that marriage is a very grave matter, + which has no resemblance whatever to a gay dance. I know it is so. I have + had my sad experience, and I cannot so easily decide upon marrying a + second time.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse my hand, then?” said Bonaparte, with a threatening tone. + </p> + <p> + Josephine smiled. “On the contrary, general,” said she, “give me your hand + and accompany me to my carriage, which has been waiting for me this long + time.” + </p> + <p> + “That means you dismiss me! You close upon me the door of your + drawing-room?” exclaimed Bonaparte, with warmth. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, and, bowing before him with her own irresistible + grace, she said in a friendly manner: “I am too good a patriot not to be + proud of seeing the conqueror of Toulon in my drawing-room. To-morrow I + have an evening reception, and I invite you to be present, general.” + </p> + <p> + From this day Bonaparte visited Josephine daily; she was certain to meet + him everywhere. At first she sought to avoid him, but he always knew with + cunning foresight how to baffle her efforts, and to overcome all + difficulties which she threw in his way. Was she at her friend Therese’s, + she could safely reckon that General Bonaparte would soon make his + appearance and come near her with eyes beaming with joy, and in his own + energetic language speak to her of his love and hopes. Was she to be + present at the receptions of the five monarchs of Paris, it was General + Bonaparte who waited for her at the door of the hall to offer his arm, and + lead her amid the respectful, retreating, and gently applauding crowd to + her seat, where he stood by her, drawing upon her the attention of all. + Did she take a drive, at the accustomed hour, in the Champs Elysees, she + was confident soon to see General Bonaparte on his gray horse gallop at + her side, followed by his brilliant staff, himself the object of public + admiration and universal respect; and finally, if she went to the theatre, + General Bonaparte never failed to appear in her loge, to remain near her + during the performance; and when she left, to offer his arm to accompany + her to her carriage. + </p> + <p> + It could not fail that this persevering homage of the renowned and + universally admired young general should make a deep and flattering + impression on Josephine’s heart, and fill her with pride and joy. But + Josephine made resistance to this feeling; she endeavored to shield + herself from it by maternal love. + </p> + <p> + She sent for her two children from their respective schools, and with her + nearly grown-up son on one side and her daughter budding into maidenhood + on the other, she thus presented herself to the general, and with an + enchanting smile said: “See, general, how old I am, with a grown-up son + and daughter who soon can make of me a grandmother.” + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte with heart-felt emotion reached his hand to Eugene and said, + “A man who can call so worthy a youth as this his son, is to be envied.” + </p> + <p> + A cunning, smiling expression of the eye revealed to Josephine that he had + understood her war-stratagem—that neither the grown-up son nor the + marriageable daughter could deter him from his object. + </p> + <p> + Josephine at last was won by so much love and tenderness, but she could + not yet acknowledge that the wounds of her heart were closed; that once + more she could trust in happiness, and devote her life to a new love, to a + new future. She shrank timidly away from such a shaping of her destiny; + and even the persuasions of her friends and relatives, even of the father + of her deceased husband, could not bring her to a decision. + </p> + <p> + The state of her mind is depicted in a letter which Josephine wrote to her + friend Madame de Chateau Renaud, and which describes in a great measure + the strange uncertainty of her heart: + </p> + <p> + “You have seen General Bonaparte at my house! Well, then, he is the one + who wishes to be the father of the orphans of Alexandre de Beauharnais and + the husband of his widow. ‘Do you love him?’ you will ask. Well, no!—‘Do + you feel any repugnance toward him?’ No, but I feel in a state of + vacillation and doubt, a state very disagreeable to me, and which the + devout in religious matters consider to be the most scandalizing. As love + is a kind of worship, one ought in its presence to feel animated by other + feelings than those I now experience, and therefore I long for your + advice, which might bring the constant indecision of my mind to a fixed + conclusion. To adopt a firm course has always appeared to my Creole + nonchalance something beyond reach, and I find it infinitely more + convenient to be led by the will of another. + </p> + <p> + “I admire the courage of the general; I am surprised at his ample + knowledge, which enables him to speak fluently on every subject; at the + vivacity of his genius, which enables him to guess at the thoughts of + others before they are expressed; but I avow, I am frightened at the power + he seems to exercise over every one who comes near him. His searching look + has something strange, which I cannot explain, but which has a controlling + influence even upon our directors; judge, therefore, of his influence over + a woman. Finally, the very thing which might please—the violence of + his passion—of which he speaks with so much energy, and which admits + of no doubt, that passion is exactly what creates in me the unwillingness + I have so often been ready to express. + </p> + <p> + “The first bloom of youth lies behind me. Can I therefore hope that this + passion, which in General Bonaparte resembles an attack of madness, will + last long? If after our union he should cease to love me, would he not + reproach me for what he had done? Would he not regret that he had not made + another and more brilliant union? What could I then answer? What could I + do? I could weep. ‘A splendid remedy!’ I hear you say. I know well that + weeping is useless, but to weep has been the only resource which I could + find when my poor heart, so easily wounded, has been hurt. Write to me a + long letter, and do not fear to scold me if you think that I am wrong. You + know well that everything which comes from you is agreeable to me.” + [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Madame Ducrest p. + 362.] + </p> + <p> + While Josephine was writing this letter to her friend, General Bonaparte + received one which produced upon him the deepest impression, though it + consisted only of a few words. But these words expressed the innermost + thought of his soul, and revealed to him perhaps for the first time its + secret wishes. + </p> + <p> + One evening as the general, returning home from a visit to the Viscountess + Josephine, entered into his drawing-room, followed by some of his officers + and adjutants, he observed on a large timepiece, which stood on the + mantel-piece, a letter, the deep-red paper and black seal of which + attracted his attention. + </p> + <p> + “Whence this letter?” asked he, with animation, of the servant-man walking + before him with a silver candlestick, as he pointed to the red envelope. + </p> + <p> + But the waiter declared that he had not seen the letter, and that he knew + not where it came from. + </p> + <p> + “Ask the other servants, or the porter, who brought this red letter with + the black seal,” ordered Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + The servant hurried from the room, but soon returned, with the news that + no one knew any thing about the letter; no one had seen it, no one knew + who had placed it there. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, let us see what it contains,” said Bonaparte, and he was + going to break the seal, when Junot suddenly seized his hand and tore the + letter away from him. + </p> + <p> + “Do not read it, general,” implored Junot; “I beseech you do not open this + letter. Who knows if some of your enemies have not sent you a letter a la + Catharine de Medicis? Who knows if it is not poisoned—that the mere + touch of it may not produce death?” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte smiled at this solicitude of his tender friend, yet he listened + to his pressing alarms, and, instead of opening and reading the letter, he + passed it to Junot. + </p> + <p> + “Read it yourself, if you have the courage to do so,” said be, familiarly + shaking his head. + </p> + <p> + Junot rapidly broke the black seal and tore the red paper. Then, fixing + his eyes on it, he threw it aside, and broke into loud, merry laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” asked Bonaparte, “what does the letter contain?” + </p> + <p> + “A mystery, my general—nothing more than a mystery,” cried Junot, + presenting the letter to Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + The letter contained but these words: + </p> + <p> + “Macbeth, you will be king. + </p> + <h3> + “THE RED MAN.” + </h3> + <p> + Junot laughed over this mysterious note, but Bonaparte shared not in his + merriment. With compressed lips and frowning brow he looked at these + strange, prophetic words, as if in their characters he wanted to discover + the features of him who had dared to look into the most hidden recesses of + his soul; then he threw the paper into the chimney-fire, and slowly and + thoughtfully paced the room, while in a low voice he murmured, “Macbeth, + you will be king.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. MARRIAGE. + </h2> + <p> + At last the conqueror of Toulon conquered also the heart of the young + widow who had so anxiously struggled against him; at last Josephine + overcame all her fears, all her terror, and, with joyous trust in the + future, was betrothed to General Bonaparte. But even then, after having + taken this decisive step, after love had cast away fear, even then she had + not the courage to reveal to her children that she had contracted a new + marriage-tie, that she was going to give to the orphans of the Viscount de + Beauharnais a new father. Ashamed and timid as a young maid, she could not + force herself into acknowledging to the children of her deceased husband + that a new love had grown in her heart—that the mourning widow was + to become again a happy woman. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, commissioned Madame de Campan to communicate this + news to her Eugene and Hortense; to tell them that she desired not only to + have a husband, but also to give to her children a faithful, loving + father, who had promised to their mother with sacred oaths to regard, + love, and protect them as his own children. + </p> + <p> + The children of General Beauharnais received this news with tears in their + eyes; they complained loudly and sorrowfully that their mother was giving + up the name of their father and changing it for another; that the memory + of their father would be forever lost in their mother’s heart. But, + through pure love for their mother, they soon dried up these tears; and + when next day Josephine, accompanied by General Bonaparte, came to St. + Germain, to visit Madame de Campan’s institution, she met there her + daughter and son, who both embraced her with the most tender affection, + and, smiling under their tears, offered their hands to General Bonaparte, + who, with all the sincerity and honesty of a deep, heart-felt emotion, + embraced them in his arms, and solemnly promised to treat them as a father + and a friend. + </p> + <p> + All Josephine’s friends did not gladly give their approbation to her + marriage with this small, insignificant general, as yet so little known, + whose success before Toulon was already forgotten, and whose victory of + the thirteenth Vendemiaire had brought him but little fame and made him + many enemies. + </p> + <p> + Among the friends who in this union with Bonaparte saw very little + happiness for Josephine was her lawyer, the advocate Ragideau, who for + many years had been her family’s agent, whose distinguished talent for + pleading and whose small figure had made him known through all Paris, and + of whom it was said that as a man he was but a dwarf; but as a lawyer, he + was a giant. + </p> + <p> + One day, in virtue of an invitation from the Viscountess de Beauharnais, + Ragideau came to the small hotel of the rue Chautereine, and sent his name + to the viscountess. She received his visit, and at his entrance into her + cabinet all those present retreated into the drawing-room contiguous + thereto, as they well knew that Josephine had some business transactions + with her lawyer. + </p> + <p> + Only one small, pale man, in modest gray clothing, whom Ragideau did not + condescend to notice, remained in the cabinet, who retired quietly within + the recess of a window. + </p> + <p> + Josephine received her business agent with a friendly smile, and spoke + long and in detail with him concerning a few important transactions which + had reference to her approaching marriage. Then suddenly passing from the + coldness of a business conversation to the tone of a friendly one, she + asked M. Ragideau what the world said of her second marriage. + </p> + <p> + Ragideau shrugged his shoulders and assumed a thoughtful attitude. “Your + friends, madame,” said he, “see with sorrow that you are going to marry a + soldier, who is younger than yourself, who possesses nothing but his + salary, and therefore cannot leave the service; or, if he is killed in + battle, leaves you perhaps with children, and without an inheritance.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you share the opinion of my friends, my dear M. Ragidean?” asked + Josephine, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the lawyer, earnestly, “yes, I share them—yes. I am not + satisfied that you should contract such a marriage. You are rich, madame; + you possess a capital which secures you a yearly income of twenty-five + thousand francs; with such an income you had claims to a brilliant + marriage; and I feel conscientiously obliged, as your friend and business + agent, in whom you have trusted, and who has for you the deepest interest, + to earnestly remonstrate with you while there is yet time. Consider it + well, viscountess; it is a reckless step you are taking, and I entreat you + not to do it. I speak to your own advantage. General Bonaparte may be a + very good man, possibly quite a distinguished soldier, but certain it is + he has only his hat and his sword to offer you.” + </p> + <p> + Josephine now broke into a joyous laugh, and her beaming eyes turned to + the young man there who, with his back turned to the party, stood at the + window beating the panes with his fingers, apparently heedless of their + conversation. + </p> + <p> + “General,” cried out Josephine, cheerfully, “have you heard what M. + Ragideau says?” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte turned slowly round, and his large eyes fell with a flaming look + upon the little advocate. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, gravely, “I have heard all. M. Ragideau has spoken as an + honest man, and every thing he has said fills me with esteem for him. I + trust he will continue to be our agent, for I feel inclined to give him + full confidence.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed kindly to the little lawyer, who stood there bewildered and + ashamed, and, offering his arm to Josephine, Bonaparte led her into the + drawing-room. [Footnote: The little advocate Ragideau remained after this + Josephine’s agent. When Bonaparte had become emperor, he appointed + Ragideau notary of the civil list, and always manifested the greatest + interest in his behalf, and never by a word or a look did he remind him of + the strange circumstance which brought about their acquaintance.—See + Meneval. “Napoleon et Marie Louise,” vol. i., p. 202.] + </p> + <p> + The decisive word had been spoken: Josephine de Beauharnais was now the + bride of General Bonaparte. His hitherto pale, gloomy countenance was all + radiant with the bright light of love and happiness. The days of solitude + and privations were forgotten; the young, beautiful Desiree Clary, whom + Bonaparte so much loved a few months ago, and the amiable Madame Permont, + were also forgotten (and yet to the latter, in her loge at the theatre, as + a farce between acts, he had offered his hand); all the little + love-intrigues of former days were forgotten; to Josephine alone belonged + his heart, her alone he loved with all the impassioned glow and depth of a + first exclusive love. + </p> + <p> + But yet, now and then, clouds darkened his large pensive brow; even her + smile could not always illumine the gloomy expression on his features; it + would happen that, plunged in deep, sad cogitations, he heard not the + question which she addressed him in her remarkably soft and clear voice + which Bonaparte so much loved. + </p> + <p> + His lofty pride felt humiliated and disgraced by the part he was now + performing. + </p> + <p> + He was the general of the army of the interior, but beyond the frontiers + of France there stood another French army, whose soldiers had not the sad + mission to maintain peace and quietness at home, to fight against + brothers; but an army seeking for the foe, whose blood and victories were + to secure them laurels. + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte longed to be with this army, and to obliterate the + remembrance of the 13th Vendemiaire and its sad victory by brilliant + exploits beyond the Alps. It was also to him a humiliating and depressing + feeling to become the husband of a wealthy woman, and not bring her as a + glorious gift or a wedding-present the fame and laurels of a husband. + </p> + <p> + It has often been said that Josephine obtained for her husband, as a + wedding-gift, his appointment of commanding general of the army in Italy; + that she procured this appointment from Barras, with whom, before her + acquaintance with Bonaparte, she had been in closer relationship than that + of mere friendship. Even such historians as Schlosser have accepted this + calumny as truth, without taking pains to investigate whether the facts + justified this supposition. In the great historical events which have + shaken nations, it is really of little importance if, under the light + which illumines and brings out such events, a shadow should fall and + darken an individual. Even the hatred and scorn with which a nation, + trodden down in the dust, curses a tyrant, and endeavors to take vengeance + on his fame, ask not if the stone flung at the hated one falls upon other + heads than the one aimed at. + </p> + <p> + Not Josephine, but Bonaparte, did they wish to injure when stating she had + been the beloved of Barras. It was Bonaparte whom they wished to humble + and mortify, when historians published that, not to his merits, but to the + petitions of his wife, he was indebted for his commission as general of + the army in Italy. + </p> + <p> + But truth justifies not this calumny; and when with the light of truth the + path of the widow of General Beauharnais is lighted, it will be found that + this path led to solitude and quietness; that at none of the great and + brilliant banquets which Barras then gave, and which in the Moniteur are + described with so much pomp, not once is, the name of Viscountess de + Beauharnais mentioned; that in the numerous pasquinades and lampoons which + then appeared in Paris and in all France, and in which all private life + was fathomed, not once is the name of Josephine brought out, neither is + there any indirect allusion to her. + </p> + <p> + Calumny has placed this stain on Josephine’s brow, but truth takes it + away. And that truth is, that not Josephine, but Bonaparte, was the friend + of Barras; that it was not Barras, but Carnot, who promoted Bonaparte to + the rank of commanding general of the army in Italy. + </p> + <p> + Carnot, the minister of war of the republic, the noble, incorruptible + republican, whose character, pure, bright, and true as steel, turned aside + all the darts of wickedness and calumny, which could not inflict even a + wound, or leave a stain on the brilliancy of his spotless character, has + given upon this point his testimony in a refutation. At a later period, + when the hatred of parties, and the events of the 18th Fructidor, had + forced him to flee from France, he defended himself against the accusation + launched at him in the Council of the Five Hundred, which pointed him out + as a traitor to the republic; and this defence gave a detailed account of + the whole time of his administration, and especially what he achieved for + the republic, claiming as one of his services the appointment of + Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + “It is not true,” says he, “that Barras proposed Bonaparte for the chief + command of the army in Italy. I myself did it. But time was allowed to + intervene, so as to ascertain whether Bonaparte would succeed before + Barras congratulated himself, and then only to his confidants, that it was + he who had made this proposition to the Directory. Had Bonaparte not + answered the expectations, then I should have been the one to blame: then + it would have been I who had chosen a young, inexperienced, intriguing + man; and I who had betrayed the nation, for the other members did not + interfere in war-matters; upon me all responsibility would have fallen. + But as Bonaparte is victorious, then it must be Barras who appointed him! + To Barras alone are the people indebted for this nomination! He is + Bonaparte’s protector, his defender against my attacks! I am jealous of + Bonaparte; I cross him in all his plans; I lower his character; I + persecute him; I refuse him all assistance; I, in all probability, am to + plunge him into ruin!”—such were the calumnies which at that time + filled the journals bribed by Barras. [Footnote: “Response de L. N. M. + Carnot, citoyen francais, l’un des fondateurs de la republique, et membre + constitutionnel du Directoire executif an rapport fait sur la conjuration + du 18 Fructidor an conseil des Cinq Cents.”] + </p> + <p> + To Carnot, the secretary of war of the republic, did Bonaparte go, to ask + of him the command of the army in Italy. But Carnot answered him, as he + had already before Aubry, the minister of war, “You are too young.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us put appearances and age aside,” said Bonaparte, impatiently. + “Alexander, Scipio, Conde, and many others, though still younger than I, + marched armies to brilliant conquests, and decided the fate of whole + kingdoms. I believe I have given a few proofs of what I can achieve, if I + am set at the right place; and I burn with great longing to serve my + country, to obtain victories over despots who hate France because they + fear, calumniate, and envy her!” + </p> + <p> + “I know you are a good patriot,” said Carnot, slowly turning his head; “I + know and appreciate your services, and you may rest assured that the + obstacles which I place in your path are not directed against you + personally. But do you know the situation of our army? It is devoured by + the quartermaster; betrayed and sold, I fear, by its general, and + demoralized, notwithstanding its successes! That army needs every thing, + even discipline, whilst the enemy’s army has all that we need. We want + nearly a miracle to be victorious. Whoever is to lead to success our + disordered, famished, disorganized army must, above all things, possess + its full confidence. Besides which, without further events, I cannot + dismiss the commanding general, Scherer, but I must wait until some new + disgrace furnishes me the right to do so. You know all. Judge for + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already made all these objections within my own mind,” replied + Bonaparte, quietly; “yet I do not despair that if you will give me your + advice and assistance, I will overcome all these difficulties. Listen to + me, and I will let you know my plan for the arrangement of the war, and I + am convinced you will give it your sanction.” + </p> + <p> + With glowing eloquence, complete clearness and assurance, and the + convincing quietude of a persuaded, all-embracing, all-weighing mind, + Bonaparte unfolded the daring and astounding plan of his campaign. As he + spoke, his face brightened more and more, his eyes glowed with the fire of + inspiration, his countenance beamed with that exalted, wondrous beauty + which is granted to genius alone in the highest moments of its ecstasy; + the small, insignificant, pale young man became the bold, daring hero, who + was fully prepared gladly to tread a world under his feet. + </p> + <p> + Carnot, who had looked on in astonishment, was finally carried away, + inspired by the persuasive eloquence of the young general, who in a few + words understood how to map out battle-fields, to measure whole + engagements, and to give to every one the needful and appropriate place. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” cried Carnot, delighted, and offering his hand to + Bonaparte. “This plan must be carried out, and then we shall conquer our + enemies. I no longer doubt of the result, and from this moment you can + rely upon me. You shall be commander-in-chief of the army in Italy. I will + myself propose you to the Directory, and I will so warmly speak in your + favor, that my request will be granted.” [Footnote: “Memoires historiques + et militaires, sur Carnot,” vol. ii.] + </p> + <p> + On this day the face of General Bonaparte was irradiated with a still + deeper lustre than when Josephine avowed that his love was returned, and + when she consented to be his. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s affianced, in the depths of his heart, retained a deep, + unfulfilled desire, an unreached aim of his existence. The commanding + general of the army in Italy had nothing more to wish, or to long for; he + now stood at hope’s summit, and saw before him the brilliant, glorious + goal of ambition toward which the path lay open before him. + </p> + <p> + Love alone could not satisfy the heart of Napoleon; the larger portion of + it belonged to ambition—to the lust for a warrior’s fame. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to live only for the future,” said Bonaparte, that day, to + Junot, as he related to him the successful result of his interview with + Carnot. “None of you know me yet, but you will soon. You will see what I + can do: I feel within me something which urges me onward. Too long has the + war been limited to a single district; I will take it into the heart of + the continent, I will bring it on fresh soil, and so carry it out that the + men of habit will lose their footing, and the old officers their heads, so + that they will no more know where they are. The soldiers will see what one + man, with a will of iron, can accomplish. All this I will do—and + from this day I strike out from the dictionary the word ‘impossible!’” + </p> + <p> + Carnot was true to his word. On the 23d day of February, 1796, Bonaparte + was appointed by the Directory commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. + </p> + <p> + From the face of the young general beamed forth the smile of victory; he + was now certain of the future! He now knew that to his Josephine he could + offer more than a hat and a sword, that he would bring her undying fame + and victory’s brilliant crown. This was to be the dowry before which the + twenty-five thousand francs’ yearly income, which the little giant + Ragideau had so highly prized, would fall into the background. + </p> + <p> + On the 9th of March the marriage between General Bonaparte and the widow + Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais took place. Barras, as member of the + government, was Bonaparte’s first witness; his second was Captain + Lemarrois, his adjutant; and the choice of this witness was a delicate + homage which Napoleon paid to his dear Josephine: for Lemarrois was the + one who had first led the boy Eugene to Bonaparte, and had thus been the + means of his acquaintance with Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The two witnesses of Josephine were Tallien, who had delivered her from + prison, and to whom she owed the restoration of her property, and a M. + Calmelet, an old friend and counsellor of the Beauharnais family. + [Footnote: “Souvenirs historiques du Baron de Meneval,” vol. i., p. 340.] + </p> + <p> + In the pure modesty of her heart, Josephine had not desired that the two + children of her deceased husband should be the witnesses of her second + marriage, and Bonaparte was glad that Josephine’s bridal wreath would not + be bedewed with the tears of memory. + </p> + <p> + On this happy day of Bonaparte’s marriage, so much of the past was set + aside, that the certificate of baptism of the betrothed was forgotten, and + the number of years which made Josephine older than Bonaparte was struck + out. + </p> + <p> + The civil record, which M. Leclerc received of the marriage of Bonaparte + and Josephine, describes them as being nearly of the same age, for it ran + thus: “Napoleon Bonaparte, born in Ajaccio, on the 5th of February, 1768; + and Marie Josephe Rosa Tascher de la Pagerie, born in Martinique, the 23d + of June, 1767.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s glowing and impassioned love led him—in order to spare + his Josephine the smallest, degree of humiliation—to alter and + destroy the dates of the certificate of their baptism; for Bonaparte was + born on the 15th of August, 1769, and Josephine on the 23d of June, 1763. + She was consequently six years older than he; but she knew not that these + six years would, one day, be the abyss which was to swallow her happiness, + her love, her grandeur. + </p> + <p> + Two days after his marriage with Josephine, Bonaparte left Paris for the + army, to travel in haste, an uninterrupted journey toward Italy. + </p> + <p> + “I must hasten to my post,” said he smiling to Josephine, “for an army + without a chief is like a widow who can commit foolish deeds and endanger + her reputation. I am responsible for the army’s conduct from the moment of + my appointment.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. BONAPARTE’S LOVE-LETTERS. + </h2> + <p> + Carnot had told Bonaparte the truth concerning the state of the army in + Italy. His statements were sustained by the proclamation which the new + commander-in-chief of the army in Italy addressed to his soldiers, as for + the first time he welcomed them at Nice. + </p> + <p> + “Soldiers,” said he, “you are naked and badly fed; the government owes you + much, and can give you nothing. Your patience and the courage you have + exhibited amid these rocks are worthy of admiration; but you gain no fame: + no glory falls upon you here. I will lead you into the fertile plains of + the world; rich provinces and large cities will fall into your power; + there you will find honor, fame, and abundance. Soldiers of Italy, would + you fail in courage and perseverance?” [Footnote: Norvins, “Histoire de + Napoleon,” vol. i., p. 89.] + </p> + <p> + The mangled, ragged, half-starved soldiers answered with loud enthusiastic + shouts. When the vivats had died away, an old veteran came out of the + ranks, and with countenance half-defiant, half-smiling, looking at the + little general, he asked: “General, what must we do that the roasted + partridges, which are promised to us, may fly into our mouths?” + </p> + <p> + “Conquer,” cried Bonaparte, with a loud resounding voice—“conquer! + To the brave, glory and good repasts! To the coward, disgrace! To the + faint-hearted, misery! I will lead you into the path of victory. Will you + follow?” + </p> + <p> + “We will, we will!” shouted the soldiers. “Long live the little general + who is to deliver us from our wretchedness, who is to lead us into + victory’s path!” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte kept his word. He led them to Voltri, to the bridge of Arcola, + to Lodi. But amid his wild career of fights, hardships, vigils, studies, + and perils, the thought of Josephine was the guiding star of his heart. + His mind was with her amid the battle’s storm; he thought of her in the + camp, on the march, in the greatest conflict, and after the most brilliant + victories. This was shown in the letters he wrote every day to Josephine; + and in the brilliant hymns which the warrior, amid the carnage of war, + sung with the enthusiastic fervor of a poet to his love and to his + happiness. + </p> + <p> + It is the mission of eminent historians, when describing his victorious + campaign of Italy, to narrate his conquests; our mission is simply to + observe him in his conduct toward Josephine, and to show how under the + uniform of the warrior beat the heart of the lover. + </p> + <p> + The letters which Bonaparte then wrote to Josephine are consequently what + concerns us most, and from which we will select a few as a proof of the + impassioned love which Napoleon felt for his young wife. + </p> + <h3> + LETTERS OF GENERAL BONAPARTE TO JOSEPHINE. + </h3> + <p> + I. “PORT MAURICE, the 14th Germinal (April 3), 1796. + </p> + <p> + “I have received all your letters, but none has made so much impression on + me as the last one. How can you, my adored friend, speak to me in that + way? Do you not believe that my situation here is already horrible enough, + without your exciting my longings, and still more setting my soul in + rebellion? What a style! what emotions you describe! They glow like fire, + they burn my poor heart! My own Josephine, away from you, there is no joy; + away from you, the world is a wilderness in which I feel alone, and have + no one in whom I can confide. You have taken from me more than my soul; + you are the only thought of my life. When I feel weary with the burden of + affairs, when I dread some inauspicious result, when men oppose me, when I + am ready to curse life itself, I place my hand upon my heart, your image + beats there; I gaze on it, and love is for me absolute bliss, and + everything smiles except when I am away from my beloved. + </p> + <p> + “By what art have you been able to enchain all my powers, and to + concentrate in yourself all my mental existence? It is an enchantment, my + dear friend, which is to end only with my life. To live for Josephine, + such is the history of my life! I am working to return to you, I am dying + to approach you! Fool that I am, I see not that I am more and more + drifting away from you! How much space, how many mountains separate us! + how long before you can read these words, the feeble expression of a + throbbing soul in which you rule! Ah, my adored wife, I know not what + future awaits me, but if it keeps me much longer away from you, it will be + intolerable; my courage reaches not that far. There was a time when I was + proud of my reputation; and sometimes when I cast my eyes on the wrong + which men could have done me, on the fate which Providence might have in + reserve for me, I prepared myself for the most unheard-of adversities + without wrinkling the brow or suffering fear; but now the thought that my + Josephine should be uncomfortable, or sick, or, above all, the cruel, + horrible thought that she might love me less, makes my soul tremble, and + my blood to remain still, bringing on sadness, despondency, and taking + away even the courage of anger and despair. In times past I used to say, + ‘Men have no power over him who dies without regret.’ But now to die + without being loved by you, to die without the certainty of being loved, + is for me the pains of hell, the living, fearful feeling of complete + annihilation. It is as if I were going to suffocate! My own companion, you + whom fate has given me, to make life’s painful journey, the day when no + more I can call your heart mine, when nature will be for me without + warmth, without vitality. ... I will give way, my sweet friend (ma douce + amie); my soul is sorrowful, my body languishes; men weary me. I have a + good right to detest them, for they keep me away from my heart. + </p> + <p> + “I am now in Port Maurice, near to Oneglia; to-morrow I go to Albenga. + Both armies are moving forward; we are endeavoring to deceive each other. + Victory belongs to the swiftest. I am well satisfied with General + Beaulieu, he manoeuvres well; he is a stronger man than his predecessor. I + trust to beat him soundly. Be without care; love me as your eyes; but no, + that is not enough, as yourself, more than yourself, as your thoughts, as + your spirit, your life, your all! Sweet friend, pardon me; I am beyond + myself; nature is too weak for him who feels with passion, for him whom + you love. + </p> + <p> + “To Barras, Sucy, Madame Tallien, my heart-felt friendship; to Madame + Chateau Renaud, kindest regards; for Eugene and Hortense, my true love. N. + B.” + </p> + <p> + II. “ALBENGA, the 18th Germinal (April 7), 1796 [Footnote: The three + following letters have never been published until recently, and are not to + be found in any collection of letters from Napoleon and Josephine, not + even among those published by Queen Hortense: “Lettres de Napoleon a + Josephine, et de Josephine a Napoleon.” They are published for the first + time in the “Histoire de l’Imperatrice Josephine,” by Aubenas, and were + communicated to this author in Napoleon’s manuscript by the well-known and + famous gatherer of autographs, Feuillet de Couches.] + </p> + <p> + “I have just now received your letter, which you break off, as you say, to + go to the country; and then, you assume a tone as if you were envious of + me, who am here nearly overwhelmed by affairs and by exertion! Ah, my dear + friend, ... it is true, I am wrong. In the spring it is so pleasant in the + country; and then the beloved one of eighteen years will be so happy + there; how would it be possible to lose one moment for the sake of writing + to him who is three hundred miles away from you, who lives, breathes, + exists only in remembering you, who reads your letters as a man, after + hunting for six hours, devours a meal he is fond of. + </p> + <p> + “I am satisfied. Your last letter is cold, like friendship. I have not + found in it the fire which glows in your eyes, the fire which I have at + least imagined to be there. So far runs my fancy. I found that your first + letters oppressed my soul too much; the revolution which they created in + me disturbed my peace and bewildered my senses. I wanted letters more + cold, and now they bring on me the chill of death. The fear of being no + more loved by Josephine—the thought of having her inconstant—of + seeing her ... But I martyrize myself with anguish! There is enough in the + reality, without imagining any more! You cannot have inspired me with this + immeasurable love without sharing it; and with such a soul, such thoughts, + such an understanding as you possess, it is impossible that, as a reward + for the most glowing attachment and devotion, you should return a mortal + blow. ... + </p> + <p> + “You say nothing of your bodily sufferings; they have my regret. Farewell + till to-morrow, mio dolce amor. From my own wife a thought—and from + fate a victory; these are all my wishes: one sole, undivided thought from + you, worthy of him who every moment thinks of you. + </p> + <p> + “My brother is here. He has heard of my marriage with pleasure. He longs + to become acquainted with you. I am endeavoring to persuade him to go to + Paris, His wife has recently given birth to a daughter. They send you a + box of bonbons from Genoa as a present. You will receive oranges, + perfumes, and water of orange-flowers, which I send you. Junot and Murat + send their best wishes. + </p> + <h3> + “N. B.” + </h3> + <p> + The victory which Bonaparte implored from his destiny was soon to take + place; and the battle of Mondovi, which followed the capitulation of + Cherasco, made Bonaparte master of Piedmont and of the passes of the Alps. + He sent his brother Joseph to Paris, to lay before the Directory pressing + considerations concerning the necessity and importance of concluding a + permanent peace with the King of Sardinia, so as to isolate Austria + entirely in Italy. At the same time Junot was to take to the Directory the + conquered standards. Joseph and Junot travelled together from Nice by + means of post-horses, and they made so rapid a journey that in one hundred + and twenty hours they reached Paris. + </p> + <p> + The victor’s messengers and the conquered flags were received in Paris + with shouts of rapture, and with a glowing enthusiasm for General + Bonaparte. His name was on every tongue. In the streets and on the squares + crowds gathered together to talk of the glorious news, and to shout their + acclamations to the brave army and its general. Even the Directory, the + five monarchs of France, shared the universal joy and enthusiasm. They + received Joseph and Junot with affable complacency, and communicated to + the army and to its general public eulogies. In honor of the messengers + who had brought the standards and the propositions of peace, they gave a + brilliant banquet; and Carnot, proud of having been the one who had + brought about Bonaparte’s appointment, went so far in his enthusiasm as at + the close of the banquet to tear his garments open and exhibit to the + assembled guests Napoleon’s portrait which he carried on his breast. + </p> + <p> + “Tell your brother,” cried he to Joseph, “that I carry him here on my + heart, for I foresee he will be the deliverer of France, and therefore he + must know that in the Directory he has only admirers and friends.” + [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 62.] + </p> + <p> + But something else, more glorious than these salutations of love from + France and from the Directory, was to be brought back by his messengers to + the victorious commander-his wife, his Josephine; he claimed her as the + reward of battles won. Joseph was not only the messenger of the general, + he was also the messenger of the lover; and before delivering his papers + to the Directory, he had first, as Bonaparte had ordered him, to deliver + to Josephine his letter which called her to Milan. Napoleon had thus + written to her: + </p> + <h3> + III. “TO MY SWEET FRIEND! + </h3> + <p> + “CAEN, the 3rd Floreal (May 24), 1796. + </p> + <p> + “My brother will hand you this letter. I cherish for him the most intimate + friendship. I trust he will also gain your affection. He deserves it. + Nature has gifted him with a tender and inexhaustibly good character; he + is full of rare qualities. I write to Barras to have him appointed consul + to some Italian port. He desires to live with his little wife away from + the world’s great stream of events. I recommend him to you. + </p> + <p> + “I have received your letters of the 16th and of the 21st. You have indeed + for many days forgotten to write. What, then, are you doing? Yes, my dear + friend, I am not exactly jealous, but I am sometimes uneasy. Hasten, then, + for I tell you beforehand that if you delay I shall be sick. So great + exertion, combined with your absence, is too much. + </p> + <p> + “Your letters are the joys of my days, and my happy days are not too many. + Junot takes to Paris twenty-two standards. You will come back with him, + will you not? .... Misery without remedy, sorrow without comfort, + unmitigated anguish, will be my portion if it is my misfortune to see him + come back alone, my own adored wife! He will see you, he will breathe at + your shrine, and perhaps you will even grant him the special and + unsurpassed privilege of kissing your cheeks, and I, I will be far, far + away! You will come here, at my side, to my heart, in my arms! Take wings, + come, come! Yet, journey slowly; the road is long, bad, fatiguing! If your + carriage were to upset, if some calamity were to happen, if the exertion. + ... Set out at once, my beloved one, but travel slowly! + </p> + <p> + “I have received a letter from Hortense, a very acceptable one indeed. I + am going to answer it. I love her much, and will soon send her the + perfumes she desires. N. B.” + </p> + <p> + But Josephine could not meet at once the ardent wishes of her husband. She + had, on the receipt of his letter, made with Joseph all the necessary + preparations for the journey; but the ailment which had so long troubled + her, broke out, and a violent illness prostrated her. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s suffering and anger at this news were unbounded; a terrible + restlessness and anxiety took possession of him, and, to obtain speedy and + reliable news from Josephine, he sent from Milan to Paris a special + courier, whose only business it was to carry a letter to Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The general had nothing to communicate to the Directory; it was only the + lover writing to his beloved! What fire, what energy of passion, + penetrated him, is evident from the following letter: + </p> + <p> + IV. “TORTONA, at noon, the 27th Prairial, + </p> + <p> + “In the Year IV. of the Republic (15th June, 1796). + </p> + <p> + “To Josephine: My life is a ceaseless Alpine burden. An oppressive + foreboding prevents me from breathing. I live no more, I have lost more + than life, more than happiness, more than rest! I am without hope. I send + you a courier. He will remain only four hours in Paris, and return with + your answer. Write me only ten lines; they will be some comfort to me. ... + You are sick, you love me, I have troubled you; you are pregnant, and I + cannot see you. This thought bewilders me. I have done you so much wrong, + that I know not how to make amends for it. I found fault because you + remained in Paris, and you were sick! Forgive me, my beloved. The passion + you have inspired in me has taken my reason away; I cannot find it again. + One is never cured of this evil. My contemplations are so horrible, that + it would be a satisfaction to see you; to press you for two hours to my + heart, and then, to die together! Who takes care of you? I imagine that + you have sent for Hortense. I love this child a thousand times more, when + I think she can comfort you somewhat. As regards myself, there will be no + solace, no rest, no hope, before the courier whom I have sent to you has + returned, and you have told me in a long letter the cause of your illness, + and how serious it is. I tell you beforehand that if it is dangerous I + will at once go to Paris. My presence would be called for by your + sickness. I have always been fortunate. Never has Fate stood against my + wishes, and to-day it strikes me where only wounds are possible. + Josephine, how can you delay so long in writing to me? Your last laconic + note is dated the 3d of this month, and this adds to my sorrow. Yet I have + it always in my pocket. Your portrait and your letters are always under my + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I am nothing without you. I can scarcely understand how I have lived + without knowing you. Ah, Josephine, if you know my heart, could you remain + without writing from the 29th of May to the 16th of June, and not travel + hither? Have you lent an ear to faithless friends, who wish to keep you + away from me? I am angry with the whole world; I accuse every one round + about you. I had calculated that you would leave on the 5th, and be at + Milan on the 15th. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine, if you love me, if you believe that all depends on the + recovery of your health, take good care of yourself. I dare not tell you + not to undertake so long a journey—not to travel in the heat, if you + possibly can move. Make small journeys; write to me at every + stopping-place, and send me each time your letters by a courier. ... Your + sickness troubles me by night and by day. Without appetite or sleep, + without regard for friendship, reputation, or country!—you and you + alone! The rest of the world exists no more for me than if it were sunk + into oblivion. I still cling to honor, for you hold to it; to fame, for it + is a joy to you; if it were not for this, I would have abandoned every + thing to hasten to your feet. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes, I say to myself: ‘I trouble myself without cause, she is + already well, she has left Paris and is on the way, she is perhaps in + Lyons.’ ... Fruitless deception! You are in your bed, suffering—more + interesting—more worthy of adoration; you are pale, and your eyes + are more languishing than ever! when you are well again, if one of us is + to be sick, cannot I be the one? for I am stronger, I have more vital + power, and would therefore sooner conquer sickness. Fate is cruel, it + strikes me through you. + </p> + <p> + “What sometimes comforts me is to know that on fate depends your sickness, + but that it depends on no one to oblige me to outlive you. + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, my dearly-beloved one, to tell me in your letter that you are + convinced that I love you above all that can be conceived; that never has + it come to me to think of other women; that they are all in my eyes + without grace, beauty, or wit; that you, you entirely, you as I see you, + as you are, can please me and fetter all the powers of my soul; that you + have grasped it in all its immeasurableness; that my heart has no folds + closed from your eyes, no thoughts which belong not to you; that my + energies, arms, mind, every thing in me, is subject to you; that my spirit + lives in your body; that the day when you will be inconstant or when you + will cease to live, will be the day of my death, and that nature and earth + are beautiful to my eyes only because you live in them. If you do not + believe all this, if your soul is not convinced of it, penetrated with it, + then I am deceived in you, then you love me no more. A magnetic fluid runs + between persons who love one another. You know that I could never see, + much less could I endure, a lover: to see him and to tear his heart would + be one and the same thing; and then I might even lay hands on your sacred + person.... no, I would never dare do it, but I would fly from a world + where those I deem the most virtuous have deceived me. + </p> + <p> + “But I am certain of your love, and proud of it. Accidents are probations + which keep alive all the energies of our mutual affections. My adored one, + you will give birth to a child resembling his mother; it will pass many + years in your arms. Unfortunate that I am, I would be satisfied with one + day! A thousand kisses on your eyes and lips! .... adored wife, how mighty + is your spell! I am ill on account of your illness. I have a burning + fever. Retain the courier no longer than six hours; then let him return, + that he may bring me a letter from my sovereign. N. B.” + </p> + <p> + These were the first letters which Josephine received from her loving, + tender husband. They are a splendid monument of affection with which love + adorns the solitary grave of the departed empress; and surely in the dark + hours of her life, the remembrance of these days of happiness, of these + letters so full of passionate ardor, must have alleviated the bitterness + of her grief and given her the consolation that at least she was once + loved as perhaps no other woman on earth can boast! All these letters of + Bonaparte, during the days of his first prosperity, and of his earnest + cravings, Josephine had carefully gathered; they were to be, amid the + precious and costly treasures which the future was to lay at her feet, the + most glorious and most prized, and which she preserved with sacred loyalty + as long as she lived. + </p> + <p> + This is the reason that, out of all the letters which Bonaparte wrote to + Josephine during long years, not one is lost; that there is no gap in the + correspondence, and that we can with complete certainty, from week to week + and year to year, follow the relations which existed between them, and + that the thermometer can be placed on Bonaparte’s heart to observe how by + degrees the heat diminishes, the warmth of passion disappears into the + cool temperature of a quiet friendship, and how it never sinks to cold + indifference, even when Josephine had to yield to the young and proud + daughter of Austria, and give up her place at the side of the emperor. + </p> + <p> + Of all the letters of Josephine to Bonaparte, which were now so glowing + that they seemed to devour him with flames of fire and bewildered his + senses, and then so cold and indifferent that they caused the chill of + death to pass over his frame—of all these, not one has been + preserved to posterity. Perhaps the Emperor Napoleon destroyed them; when + in the Tuileries he received Josephine’s successor, his second wife, and + when he endeavored to destroy in his own proud heart the memory of the + beautiful, happy past, he there destroyed those letters, that they might + return to dust, even as his own love had returned. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. + </h2> + <p> + Bonaparte’s letter, which the courier brought to Josephine, found her + recovered, and ready to follow her husband’s call, and go to Milan. But + she was deprived of one precious and joyous hope: the child, which + Bonaparte so much envied because it would pass many years in Josephine’s + arms, was never to be born. + </p> + <p> + In the last days of the month of June Josephine arrived in Milan. Her + whole journey had been one uninterrupted triumph. In Turin, at the court + of the King of Sardinia, she had received the homage of the people as if + she were the wife of a mighty ruler; and wherever she went, she was + received with honors and distinction. To Turin Bonaparte had sent before + him one of his adjutants, General Marmont, afterward Duke de Ragusa, to + convey to her his kindest regards and to accompany her with a military + escort as far as Milan. In the palace de Serbelloni, his residence in + Milan, adorned as for a feast, Bonaparte received her with a countenance + radiant with joy and happy smiles such as seldom brightened his pale, + gloomy features. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte had neither much time nor leisure to devote to his domestic + happiness, to his long-expected reunion with Josephine. Only three days + could the happy lover obtain from the restless commander; then he had to + tear himself away from his sweet repose, to carry on further the deadly + strife which he had begun in Italy against Austria—which had decided + not to give away one foot of Lombardy without a struggle—and not to + submit to the conqueror of Lodi. A new army was marched into Italy under + the command of General Wurmser, the same against whom, three years before, + on the shores of the Rhine, Alexandre de Beauharnais had fought in vain. + At the head of sixty thousand men Wurmser moved into Italy to relieve + Mantua, besieged by the French. + </p> + <p> + This alarming news awoke Bonaparte out of his dream of love, and neither + Josephine’s tears nor prayers could keep him back. He sent couriers to + Paris, to implore from the Directory fresh troops and more money, to + continue the campaign. The Directory answered him with the proposition to + divide the army of Italy into two columns, one of which would act under + the commander-in-chief, General Kellermann, the other under Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + But this proposition, which the jealous Directory made for the sake of + breaking the growing power of Bonaparte, only served to lift him a step + higher in his path to the brilliant career which he alone, in the depths + of his heart, had traced, and the secret of which his closed lips would + reveal to no one. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s answer to this proposition of the Directory was, that if the + power were to be divided, he could only refuse the half of this division, + and would retire entirely from command. + </p> + <p> + He wrote to Carnot: “It is a matter of indifference to me whether I carry + on the war here or elsewhere. To serve my country, and deserve from + posterity one page of history, is all my ambition! If both I and + Kellermann command in Italy, then all is lost. General Kellermann has more + experience than I, and will carry on the war more ably. But the matter can + only be badly managed if we both command. It is no pleasure for me to + serve with a man whom Europe considers the first general of the age.” + </p> + <p> + Carnot showed this letter to the Directory, and declared that if Bonaparte + were to be given up, he would himself resign his position of secretary of + war. The Directory was not prepared to accept this twofold responsibility, + and they sacrificed Kellermann to the threats of Napoleon and Carnot. + </p> + <p> + General Bonaparte was confirmed in his position of commander-in-chief of + the army in Italy, even for the future, and the conduct of the war was + left in his hands alone. + </p> + <p> + With this fresh triumph over his enemies at home, Bonaparte marched from + Milan to fight the re-enforced enemy of France in Italy. + </p> + <p> + On this new war-path, amid dangers and conflicts, the tumults of the + fight, the noise of the camp, the confusion of the bivouac, the young + general did not for one moment forget the wife he so passionately loved. + Nearly every day he wrote to her, and those letters, which were often + written between the dictation of the battle’s plan, the dispatches to the + Directory, and the impending conflict, were faithful waymarks, whose + directions it is easy to follow, and thus trace the whole successful + course of the hero of Italy. + </p> + <p> + To refer here to Bonaparte’s letters to Josephine, implies at once the + mention of Bonaparte’s deeds and of Josephine’s happiness. The first + letter which he wrote after the interview in Milan is from Roverbella, and + it tells her in a few words that he has just now beaten the foe, and that + he is going to Verona. The second is also short and hastily written, but + is full of many delicate assurances of love, and also that he has met and + defeated the foe at Verona. The third letter is from Marmirolo, and shows + that Bonaparte, notwithstanding his constant changes of position, had + taken the precautions that Josephine’s letters should everywhere follow + him; for in Marmirolo he received one, and this tender letter filled him + with so much joy, thanks, and longings, that, in virtue of it, he forgets + conquests and triumphs entirely, and is only the longing, tender lover. He + writes: + </p> + <p> + “MARMIROLO, the 29th Messidor, 9 in the evening” (July 17), 1796. + </p> + <p> + “I am just now in receipt of your letter, my adored one; it has filled my + heart with joy. I am thankful for the pains you have taken to send me news + about yourself; with your improved health, all will be well; I am + convinced that you have now recovered. I would impress upon you the duty + of riding often; this will be a healthy exercise for you. + </p> + <p> + “Since I left you I am forever sorrowful. My happiness consists in being + near you. Constantly does my memory renew your kisses, your tears, your + amiable jealousy; and the charms of the incomparable Josephine kindle + incessantly a burning flame within my heart and throughout my senses. When + shall I, free from all disturbance and care, pass all my moments with you, + and have nothing to do but to love, nothing to think of but the happiness + to tell it and prove it to you? I am going to send you your horse, and I + trust you will soon be able to be with me. A few days ago I thought I + loved you, but since I have seen you again, I feel that I love you a + thousand times more. Since I knew you, I worship you more and more every + day; this proves the falsity of La Bruyere’s maxim, which says that love + springs up all at once. Every thing in nature has its growth in different + degrees. Ah, I implore you, let me see some of your faults; be then less + beautiful, less graceful, less tender, less good; especially be never + tender, never weep: your tears deprive me of my reason, and change my + blood into fire. Believe me, that it is not in my power to have a single + thought which concerns you not, or an idea which is not subservient to + you. + </p> + <p> + “Keep very quiet. Recover soon your health. Come to me, that at least + before dying we may say, ‘We were happy so many, many days!’ + </p> + <p> + “Millions of kisses even for Fortune, notwithstanding its naughtiness. + [Footnote: Fortune was that little peevish dog which, when Josephine was + in prison, served as love-messenger between her and her children.] + BONAPARTE.” + </p> + <p> + But this letter, full of tenderness and warmth, is not yet enough for the + ardent lover; it does not express sufficiently his longing, his love. The + very next day, from the same quarters of Marmirolo, he writes something + like a postscript to the missive of the previous day. He tells her that he + has made an attack upon Mantua, but that a sudden fall of the waters of + the lake had delayed his troops already embarked, and that this day he is + going to try again in some other way; that the enemy a few days past had + made a sortie and killed a few hundred men, but that they themselves, with + considerable loss, had to retreat rapidly into the fortress, and that + three Neapolitan regiments had entered Brescia. But between each of these + sentences intervene some strong assurance of his love, some tender or + flattering words; and finally, at the end of the letter, comes the + principal object, the cause why it was written. The tender lover wanted + some token from his beloved: it is not enough for him always to carry her + portrait and her letters, he must also have a lock of her hair. He writes: + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my snuffbox; I pray you find me another, somewhat more flat, + and pray have something pretty written upon it, with a lock of your hair. + A thousand burning kisses, since you are so cold, love unbounded, and + faithfulness beyond all proof.” + </p> + <p> + Two days afterward he writes again from Marmirolo, at first hastily, a few + words about the war, then he comes to the main point. He has been guilty, + toward Josephine, of a want of politeness, and, with all the tenderness + and humility of a lover, he asks forgiveness. Her pardon and her constant + tardiness in answering his letters, are to him more weighty matters than + all the battles and victories of his restless camp-life, and therefore he + begins at once with a complaint at his separation from her. + </p> + <p> + “MARMIROLO, the 1st Thermidor, Year IV. (July 19, 1796.)” For the last two + days I am without letters from you. This remark I have repeated thirty + times; you feel that this for me is sad. You cannot, however, doubt of the + tenderness and undivided solicitude with which you inspire me.” + </p> + <p> + “We attacked Mantua yesterday. We opened upon it, from two batteries, a + fire of shells and red-hot balls. The whole night the unfortunate city was + burning. The spectacle was terrible and sublime. We have taken possession + of numerous outworks, and we open the trenches to-night. To-morrow we make + our headquarters at Castiglione, and think of passing * the night there.” + </p> + <p> + “I have received a courier from Paris. He brought two letters for you: I + have read them. Though this action seems to me very simple, as you gave me + permission so to do, yet, I fear, it will annoy you, and that troubles me + exceedingly. I wanted at first to seal them over again; but, pshaw! that + would have been horrible. If I am guilty, I beg your pardon. I swear to + you I did it not through jealousy; no, certainly not; I have of my adored + one too high an opinion to indulge in such a feeling. I wish you would + once for all allow me to read your letters; then I should not have any + twittings of conscience or fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Achilles, the courier, has arrived from Milan; no letter from my adored + one! Farewell, my sole happiness! When will you come, and be with me? I + shall have to fetch you from Milan myself.” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand kisses, burning as my heart, pure as yours!” + </p> + <p> + “I have sent for the courier; he says he was at your residence, and that + you had nothing to say, nothing to order! Fie! wicked, hateful, cruel + tyrant!—pretty little monster! You laugh at my threats and my + madness; ah, you know very well that if I could shut you up in my heart, I + would keep you there a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me know that you are cheerful, right well, and loving!” + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + But Josephine seems not to have answered this letter as Napoleon desired. + She knew that it was nothing but unfounded jealousy which had induced him + to read the letters sent to her, and to punish him for this jealousy she + forbade him to read her letters in the future. + </p> + <p> + But while she reproached him in a jesting manner, and punished him for + this jealousy, she, herself, with all the inconsistency of a lover, fell + into the same fault, and could not hide from him the jealous fears which + the ladies from Brescia, especially the beautiful Madame de Te——, + had created within her mind. Bonaparte answered this letter as general, + lover, and husband; he gives an account of his war operations, submits to + her will as a lover, and commands her as a husband to come to him in + Brescia. + </p> + <p> + “CASTIGLIONE, the 4th Thermidor, Year IV. (July 22, 1796). + </p> + <p> + “The wants of the army require my presence in these parts; it is + impossible for me to go so far away as Milan; it would require for that + purpose five or six days, and during that time circumstances might arise + which would make my presence here absolutely necessary. + </p> + <p> + “You assure me that your health is now good; consequently, I pray you to + come to Brescia. At this moment I am sending Murat into the city to + prepare you such a house as you wish. + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you can very well sleep in Cassano on the 6th, if you + leave Milan late, so as to be in Brescia on the 7th, where the most tender + of lovers awaits you. I am in despair that you can believe, my dear + friend, that my heart can be drawn toward any one but yourself; it belongs + to you by right of conquest, and will be enduring and ever-lasting. I do + not understand why you speak of Madame de Te——. I trouble + myself no more about her than any other woman in Brescia. Since it annoys + you that I open your letters, the enclosed one will be the last that I + open; your letter did not reach me till after I had opened this. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, my tender one; send me often your news. Break up at once and + come to me, and be happy without disquietude; all is well, and my heart + belongs to you for life. + </p> + <p> + “Be sure to return to the Adjutant Miollis the box of medallions which, as + he writes, he has given you. There are so many babbling and bad tongues, + that it is necessary to be always on one’s guard. + </p> + <p> + “Health, love, and speedy arrival in Brescia! + </p> + <p> + “I have in Milan a carriage which is suited for city and country; use it + on your journey. Bring your silver and a few necessary things. Travel by + short stages, and during the cool of the morning and evening, so as not to + weary you too much. The troops need only three days to reach Brescia, a + distance of fourteen miles. I beg of you to pass the night of the 6th in + Cassano; on the 7th I will come to meet you as far as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, my Josephine; a thousand tender kisses! + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + Josephine gladly obeyed the wishes of her husband, and exactly on the 7th + Thermidor (July 25) she entered Brescia. Bonaparte had ridden an hour’s + distance to meet her, and, amid the shouts of the population, he led her + in triumph into the house prepared for her reception. + </p> + <p> + Three days were allowed to the general to enjoy his happiness and + Josephine’s presence. On the 28th of July he received the intelligence + that Wurmser was advancing, and that he was in Marmirolo. At once + Bonaparte broke up from Brescia, to meet him and offer battle. + </p> + <p> + Brescia was no longer a dwelling-place for Josephine now that the enemy + threatened it; she therefore accompanied her husband, and the effeminate + creole, the tender Parisian, accustomed to all the comforts of life, the + lady surrounded by numerous attendants in Milan, saw herself at once + obliged, as the true wife of a soldier, to share with her husband all the + hardships, inconveniences, and dangers of a campaign. + </p> + <p> + The news of the advance of the Austrians became more and more precise. No + sooner had Bonaparte arrived in Peschiera with his Josephine, than he + learned that Montevaldo was attacked by the enemy. In great haste they + pursued their journey; the next day they reached Verona, but Wurmser had + been equally swift in his movements, and on the heights surrounding Verona + were seen the light troops of Austria. + </p> + <p> + Even a serious skirmish at the outposts took place, and Josephine, against + her will, had to be the witness of this horrible, cannibal murder, which + we are pleased to call war. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte, who had preceded his army, was forced to retreat from Verona, + and went with Josephine to Castel Nuovo, where the majority of his troops + were stationed. But it was a fearful journey, beset with dangers. + Everywhere on the road lay the dying and the wounded who had remained + behind after the different conflicts, and who with difficulty were + crawling along to meet the army. Josephine’s sensitive heart was painfully + moved by the spectacle of these sufferings and these bleeding wounds. + Napoleon noticed it on her pale cheeks and trembling lips, and in the + tears which stood in her eyes. Besides which, a great battle was at hand, + threatening her with new horrors. To guard her from them, Bonaparte made + another sacrifice to his love, and resolved to part from her. + </p> + <p> + She was to return to Brescia, while Napoleon, with his army, would meet + the foe. With a thousand assurances of love, and the most tender vows, he + took leave of Josephine, and she mastered herself so as to repress her + anxiety and timidity, and to appear collected and brave. With a smile on + her lip she bade him farewell, and began the journey, accompanied by a few + well-armed horsemen, whom Bonaparte, in the most stringent terms, + commanded not to leave his wife’s carriage for an instant, and in case of + attack to defend her with their lives. + </p> + <p> + At first the journey was attended with no danger, and Josephine’s heart + began to beat with less anxiety; she already believed herself in safety. + Suddenly, from a neighboring coppice, there rushed out a division of the + enemy’s cavalry; already were distinctly heard the shouts and cries with + which they dashed toward the advancing carriage. To oppose this vast + number of assailants was not to be thought of; only the most rapid flight + could save them. + </p> + <p> + The carriage was turned; the driver jumped upon the horses, and, in a mad + gallop, onward it sped. To the swiftness of the horses Josephine owed her + escape. She reached headquarters safely, and was received by Bonaparte + with loud demonstrations of joy at her unexpected return. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine had not the strength to conceal the anxiety of her heart, + her fears and alarms. These horrible scenes of war, the sight of the + wounded, the dangers she had lately incurred, the fearful preparations for + fresh murders and massacres—all this troubled her mind so violently + that she lost at once all courage and composure. A nervous trembling + agitated her whole frame, and, not being able to control her agony, she + broke into loud weeping. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte embraced her tenderly, and as he kissed the tears from her + cheeks, he cried out, with a threatening flash in his eyes, “Wurmser will + pay dearly for the tears he has caused!” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s words.—“Memorial + de Ste. Helene,” vol. i., p. 174.] + </p> + <p> + It was, however, a fortunate accident that the enemy’s cavalry had + hindered Josephine from reaching Brescia. A quarter of an hour after her + return to headquarters the news arrived that the Austrians had advanced + into Brescia. Meanwhile Josephine had already regained all her courage and + steadfastness; she declared herself ready to abide by her husband, to bear + with him the dangers and the fatigues of the campaign; that she wished to + be with him, as it behooved the wife of a soldier. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte felt that her company would cripple his courage and + embarrass his movements. Josephine once more had to leave him, so that the + tender lover might not disturb the keen commanding general, and that his + head and not his heart might decide the necessary measures. + </p> + <p> + He persuaded Josephine to leave him, and to retire into one of the central + cities of Italy. She acceded to his wishes, and travelled away toward + Florence. But, to reach that city, it was necessary to pass Mantua, which + the French were investing. Her road passed near the walls of the besieged + city, and one of the balls, which were whizzing around the carriage, + struck one of the soldiers of her escort and wounded him mortally. It was + a dangerous, fearful journey—war’s confusion everywhere, wild + shouts, fleeing, complaining farmers, constant cries of distress, anxiety, + and want. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine had armed her heart with great courage and resolution; she + shrank from no danger, she overcame it all; she already had an undaunted + confidence in her husband’s destiny, and believed in the star of his + prosperity. + </p> + <p> + And this star led her on happily through all dangers, and protected her + throughout this reckless and daring journey. Through Bologna and Ferrara, + she came at last to Lucca; there to rest a few days from her hardships and + anxieties. There, in Lucca, she was to experience the proud satisfaction + of being witness of the deep confidence which had struck root in the heart + of the Italians, in reference to the success of the French + commander-in-chief. Though it was well known that Wurmser, with a superior + force, was advancing against General Bonaparte, and his hungry, tattered + troops, and that they were on the eve of a battle which, according to all + appearances, promised to Napoleon a complete defeat, and to the Austrians + a decisive victory, the town of Lucca was not afraid to give to the wife + of Bonaparte a grand and public reception. The senate of Lucca received + her with all the marks of distinction shown only to princesses; the senate + came to her in official ceremony, and brought her as a gift of honor, in + costly gold flasks, the produce of their land, the fine oil of Lucca. + </p> + <p> + Josephine received these marks of honor with that grace and amiability + with which she won all hearts, and, with her enchanting smile, thanking + the senators, she told them, with all the confidence of a lover, that her + victorious husband would, for the magnificent hospitality thus shown her, + manifest his gratitude to the town of Lucca by the prosperity and liberty + which he was ready to conquer for Italy. + </p> + <p> + This confidence was shortly to be justified. No sooner had Josephine + arrived in Florence, whither she had come from Lucca, than the news of the + victory of the French army, commanded by her husband, reached there also. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly abandoning the siege of Mantua, Bonaparte had gathered together + all his forces, and with them he dealt blow after blow upon the three + divisions of the army corps of Wurmser, until he had completely defeated + them. The battles of Lonato and Castiglione were the fresh trophies of his + fame. On the 10th of August Bonaparte made his victorious entry into + Brescia, which only twelve days before he had been suddenly obliged to + abandon with his Josephine, to whom he had then been barely reunited, and + was still luxuriating in the bliss of her presence. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had fulfilled his word: he had revenged Josephine, and Wurmser + had indeed paid dearly for the tears which he had caused Josephine to + shed! + </p> + <p> + But after these days of storm and danger, the two lovers were to enjoy a + few weeks of mutual happiness and of splendid triumphs. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had returned from Florence to Milan, and thither Bonaparte came + also in the middle of August, to rest in her arms after his battles and + victories. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE IN MILAN. + </h2> + <p> + The days of armistice which Bonaparte passed in Milan were accompanied by + festivities, enjoyments, and triumphs of all kinds. All Milan and Lombardy + streamed forth to present their homage to the deliverer of Italy and to + his charming, gracious wife; to give feasts in their honor, to praise them + in enthusiastic songs, to celebrate their fame in concerts, serenades, and + illuminations. + </p> + <p> + The palace Serbelloni served Italy’s deliverer once more as a residence, + and it was well calculated for this on account of its vastness and + elegance. This was one of the most beautiful buildings among the palaces + of Milan. Over its massive lower structure, and its rez-de chaussee of red + granite, sparkling in the sun with its play of many colors, arose bold and + steep its light and graceful facade. The interior of this beautiful palace + of the Dukes of Serbelloni was adorned with all the splendors which + sculpture and painting gathered into the palaces of the Italian nobility. + </p> + <p> + In those halls, whose roofs were richly decorated and gilded, and + supported by white columns of marble, and whose walls were covered with + those splendid and enormous mirrors which the republic of Venice alone + then manufactured; and from whose tall windows hung down in long, heavy + folds curtains of purple velvet, embroidered with gold, the work of the + famous artisans of Milan—in those brilliant halls the happy couple, + Bonaparte and Josephine, received the deputies of applauding Italy and the + high aristocracy of all Lombardy. + </p> + <p> + An eye-witness thus describes a reception-evening in the Serbelloni + palace: “The hall in which the general received his visitors was a long + gallery divided by marble columns into three smaller rooms; the two + extreme divisions formed two large drawing-rooms, perfectly square, and + the middle partition formed a long and wide promenade apartment. In the + drawing-room, into which I entered, was Madame Bonaparte, the beautiful + Madame Visconti, Madame Leopold Berthier, and Madame Ivan. Under the + arches, at the entrance of the middle room, stood the general; around him, + but at a distance, the chiefs of the war department, the magistrates of + the city, with a few ministers of the Italian governments, all in + respectful attitude before him. Nothing seemed to be more striking than + the bearing of this little man among the dignitaries overawed by his + character. His attitude had nothing of pride, but it had the dignity of a + man conscious of his worth, and who feels that he is in the right place. + Bonaparte tried not to increase his stature, so as to be on the same level + with those around him; they already spared him that trouble, and bowed to + him. None of those who conversed with him appeared taller than he. + Berthier, Silmaine, Clarke, Augerean, awaited silently till he should + address them, an honor which this evening was not conferred upon all. + Never were headquarters so much like a court: they were the prelude to the + Tuileries.” [Footnote: Arnold, “Souvenirs d’un Sexagenaire,” vol. iii., p. + 10.] + </p> + <p> + To Milan came the ambassadors of princes, of the free cities, and of the + Italian republics. They all claimed Bonaparte’s assistance and protection; + they came bearers of good-will, of utterances of hope and fear, and + expecting from him help and succor. The princes trembled for their + thrones; the cities and republics for their independence; they wanted to + conciliate by their submission the general whose sword could either + threaten them all or give them ample protection. Bonaparte received this + homage with the composure of a protector, and sometimes also with the + proud reserve of a conqueror. + </p> + <p> + He granted to the Duke of Parma the protection which he had sought, and + permitted him to remain on his territory as prince and ruler, though the + strongest expostulations had been made to Bonaparte on that point. + </p> + <p> + “He is a Bourbon,” they said; “he must no longer rule.” + </p> + <p> + “He is an unfortunate man,” replied Bonaparte, proudly; “it is not worth + while to attack him. If we leave him on his lands, he will rule only in + our name; if we drive him away, he will be weaving intrigues everywhere. + Let him remain where he is, I wish him no wrong; his presence can be + useful, his absence would surely he hurtful.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is a Bourbon, citizen general, a Bourbon!” exclaimed Augereau, + with animation. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s countenance darkened, and his brow was overspread with frowns. + “Well, then,” cried he, with threatening tone, “he is a Bourbon! Is he + therefore by nature of so despicable a family? Because three Bourbons have + been killed in France, must we therefore hunt down all the others? I + cannot approve of proscriptions which thus fall upon a whole family, a + whole class of people. An absurd law has prohibited all the nobles from + serving the republic, and yet Barras is in the Directory, and I am at the + head of the army in Italy. We are consequently liable to punishment in + virtue of your absurd and cruel system! Hunt down those who do wrong, but + not masses who are innocent. Can you punish Paris and France for the + crimes of the sans-culottes? The Bourbons are, it is said, the enemies of + freedom; they have been led to the scaffold under the action of a right + which I do not acknowledge. The Duke of Parma is weak, and a poltroon,—he + will not stir. His people seem to love him, for we are here, and they rise + not, they utter no complaint. Let him, then, continue to rule as long as + he pays all that I exact from him.” [Footnote: Napoleon’s words.—See + Hazlitt, “Histoire de Napoleon,” vol. v., p. 1.] + </p> + <p> + Thanks to the good-will and protection of the republican general, the Duke + of Parma remained on his little throne—on the same throne which was + one day to be to Napoleon’s second wife a compensation for her lost + imperial crown. The Empress of France was to become a Duchess of Parma; + and now to her husband, the present general of the republic, the actual + Duke of Parma was indebted that his little dukedom was not converted into + a republic. + </p> + <p> + It is true that the duke had to pay dearly for the protection which + Bonaparte granted. He had to pay a war-subsidy of two million francs, and, + besides, give from his collection his most beautiful painting, that of St. + Jerome by Correggio, for the Museum of the Louvre in Paris. [Footnote: + This splendid picture is now in the Vatican at Rome.] The duke, as a lover + of art, was more distressed at the loss of this picture than at the + enormous contribution he had to pay; for he soon caused the proposition to + be made to General Bonaparte, to redeem from the French government that + painting, for the sum of two hundred thousand francs, a proposition which + Bonaparte, without any further consultation with the authorities in Paris, + rejected with some degree of irritation. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Parma remained therefore the sovereign of his duchy, because + it so pleased Bonaparte; but Bonaparte was led into error when he thought + that, as his people rebelled not, they therefore loved their duke, and + were satisfied with him. The women and the priests controlled entirely the + feeble duke; and not only the people, but the better classes and the + aristocracy, submitted to all this with great unwillingness. Once, when + Joseph Bonaparte, whom the French republic had sent to give assurance of + protection and recognition to the little Duke of Parma, was walking with a + few cavaliers in the gardens around the duke’s palace in Colorno, he + expressed his admiration at the symmetry and beauty of the buildings. + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” was the answer, “but just look at the buildings of the + neighboring cloister! do you not see how superior that dwelling is to that + of the sovereign? Wretched is the country where this can take place!” + [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 65.] + </p> + <p> + Even the representatives of the republic of Venice came to Bonaparte. They + came not only to secure his friendship, but also to complain that the + French army, in its advance upon Brescia, had done injury to the neutral + territory of Venice. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte directed at them a look of imperious severity, and, instead of + laying stress on their neutrality, he asked in a sharp tone, “Are you for + us, or against us?” + </p> + <p> + “Signor, we are neutral, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not be neutral,” interrupted Bonaparte, with vehemence, “be strong, + otherwise your friendship is useful to none.” + </p> + <p> + And, with imperious tone, he reproached them for the vacillating, + perfidious conduct which, since 1792, had been the policy of Venice, and + he threatened to punish and destroy that republic if she did not + immediately prove herself to be the loyal friend of the French. + </p> + <p> + While Bonaparte used the few short weeks of rest to bring Italy more and + more under the yoke of France, it was Josephine’s privilege to draw to + herself and toward her husband the minds of the Italians, to win their + hearts to her husband, and through him to the French republic, which he + represented. She did this with all the grace and affability, all the + genial tact and large-heartedness of a noble heart, which were the + attributes of her beautiful and amiable person. She was unwearied in + well-doing, in listening to all the petitions with which she was + approached; she had for every complaint and every request an open ear; she + not only promised to every applicant her intercession, but she made him + presents, and was ever ready, by solicitations, flatteries, and + expostulations, and, if necessary, even with tears, to entreat from her + husband a mitigation of the punishment and sentence which he had decided + upon in his just severity; and seldom had Bonaparte the courage to oppose + her wishes. These were for Josephine glorious days of love and triumph. + She depicts them herself in a letter to her aunt in plain, short words. + </p> + <p> + “The Duke de Serbelloni,” writes she, “will tell you, my dear aunt, how I + have been received in Italy; how, wherever I passed, they celebrated my + arrival; how all the Italian princes, even the Duke of Tuscany, the + emperor’s brother, gave festivities in my honor. Well, then, I would + prefer to live as a plain citizeness of France. I like not the honorable + distinctions of this country. They weary me. It is true, my health + inclines me to be sad. I often feel very ill. If fate would bring me good + health, then I should be entirely happy. I possess the most amiable + husband that can be found. I have no occasion to desire anything. My + wishes are his. The whole day he is worshipping me as if I were a deity; + it is impossible to find a better husband. He writes often to my children—he + loves them much. He sent to Hortense, through M. Serbelloni, a beautiful + enamelled repeating watch, ornamented with fine pearls; to Eugene he sent + also a fine gold watch.” [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” vol. i., p. 349.] + </p> + <p> + But soon these days of quietness and happiness were to be broken; the + armistice was drawing to a close, when, with redoubled energy, Bonaparte, + who had received from the government the wished-for re-enforcements, + longed to resume the war with Austria, which on her side had sent another + army into Italy, under General Alvinzi, to relieve Mantua, and to deliver + Wurmser from his peril. + </p> + <p> + On the 13th of August Bonaparte left Milan and returned to Brescia, where + he established his headquarters, and where, with all the speed and + restlessness of a warrior longing for victory, he made his preparations + for the coming conflict. + </p> + <p> + But amid the anxieties, the cares, the chances of this new campaign, his + heart remained behind in Milan with his Josephine; when the general began + to rest, the lover began to breathe. No sooner were the battle-plans, the + fight, the preparations and the dispositions accomplished, than all his + thoughts returned to Josephine, and he had again recourse to his written + correspondence with his adored wife; for although he longed so much to + have her with him, yet he was unwilling to occasion her so much + inconvenience and so many privations. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s letters are again way-marks during his glorious path of + victory and triumph, while he was over-running Italy with wondrous + rapidity—but, instead of relating these conquests, we turn to his + letters to Josephine. Already, on his way to Brescia, he had written her + several times. The very day after reaching there, after having made the + necessary military arrangements, Bonaparte wrote to her: + </p> + <p> + “BRESCIA, the 14th Fructidor, Year IV. (August 31, 1795). + </p> + <p> + “I am leaving for Verona. I have hoped in vain to receive a letter from + you; this makes me wretched and restless. At the time of my departure, you + were somewhat suffering; I pray you, do not leave me in such a state of + disquietude. You had promised me a greater punctuality; your tongue, then, + chimed in with your heart...; you, whom Nature has gifted with a sweet + disposition, with joyousness, and every thing which is agreeable, how can + you forget him who loves you so warmly? Three days without a letter from + you! I have during that time written to you several. Separation is + horrible; the nights are long, tiresome, and insipid; the days are + monotonous.” + </p> + <p> + “To-day, alone with thoughts, works, men, and their destructive schemes, I + have not received from you a single note that I can press to my heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Headquarters are broken up; I leave in one hour. I have this night + received expresses from Paris; there was nothing for you but the enclosed + letter, which will afford you some pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Think on me; live for me; be often with your beloved, and believe that + there is for him but one sorrow; that he shrinks only from this—to + be no more loved by his Josephine. A thousand right sweet kisses, right + tender, right exclusive kisses.” + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + Three days after he tells her that he is now in the midst of war + operations; that hostilities have begun again, and that he hopes in a few + days to advance upon Trieste. But this occupied his mind less than his + solicitude for Josephine. After a short paragraph on his military affairs, + he continues: + </p> + <p> + “No letter from you yet; I am really anxious; but I am assured that you + are well, and that you have made an excursion on the Como Lake. Every day + I wait impatiently for the courier who is to bring me news from you; you + know how precious this is to me. I live no longer when away from you; the + joy of my life is to be near my sweet Josephine. Think of me; write often, + very often; this is the only remedy for separation; it is cruel, but I + trust it will soon be over.” + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + Meanwhile this separation was to last longer than Bonaparte had imagined. + War held him entangled in its web so fast, that he had not time even to + write to Josephine. In the next two letters he could only tell her, in a + few lines, what had happened at the theatre of war; that he had again + defeated Wurmser, and had surrounded him, and that he hopes to take + Mantua. Even for his constant complaint about Josephine’s slothfullness in + writing, he finds no room in these short letters. In the next letter, + however, it appears the more violently. He has no time to give her, as was + his usual practice, any account of the war. He begins at once with the + main object, which is—“Josephine has not written:” + </p> + <p> + “VERONA, 1st day of Complementaires in Year V,” “(September 17, 1796). + </p> + <p> + “I write to you often, my beloved one, but you write seldom to me. You are + wicked and hateful, very hateful—as hateful as you are inconstant. + It is indeed faithlessness to deceive a wretched man, a tender lover! Must + he lose his rights because he is away, burdened with hardship and labor? + Without his Josephine, without the certainty of her love, what is there on + earth for him? What would he do here? + </p> + <p> + “We had yesterday a very bloody affair; the enemy has lost many men, and + is well beaten. We have taken his advanced works before Mantua. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, adored Josephine! One of these nights the doors will open with + a loud crash: as a jealous man, I am in your arms! + </p> + <p> + “A thousand dear kisses! BONAPARTE.” + </p> + <p> + But the doors were not to be opened on any of the following nights for the + jealous one! The events of war were to keep him away a long time from his + Josephine. The Austrian Generals Wurmser and Alvinzi, with their two + armies, demanded all the energy and activity of Bonaparte. Meanwhile, as + he was preparing for the great battles which were to decide the fate of + Italy, his thoughts were always turned to his Josephine; his deep longings + grew day by day, still he had no longer cause to complain that Josephine + did not write, that she had forgotten him! Contrariwise, Josephine did + write; she had, while he was writing her angry letters about her silence, + written several times, for Bonaparte in the following letter says that he + has received many letters from her, which, probably on account of the + difficulties of communication, had been delayed. He had received them with + the highest delight, and pressed them to his lips and heart. But no sooner + had he rejoiced over them, than he complains that they are cold, reserved, + and old. No word, no expression, satisfies his ardent love. He complains + that her letters are cold, and then, when she dips her pen in the fire of + tender love, he complains again that her glowing letters “turn his blood + into fire, and stir up his whole being.” Love, with all its wantonness and + all its pains, holds him captive in its hands, and the general has no + means of appeasing the lover. + </p> + <p> + The letter which complains of Josephine’s coldness is dated + </p> + <p> + “MODENA, 26th Vendemiaire of the Year V.” (October 17, 1796), + </p> + <p> + “I was yesterday the whole day on the field. To-day I have kept my bed. + Fever and a violent headache have debarred me from writing to my adored + one; but I have received her letters, I pressed them to my lips and to my + heart, and the anguish of a separation of hundreds of miles disappeared. + At this moment I see you at my side, neither capricious nor angry, but + soft, tender, and wrapped in that goodness which is exclusively the + attribute of my Josephine. It was a dream—judge if it could drive + the fever away. Your letters are as cold as if you were fifty years old; + they seem to have been composed after a marriage of fifteen years. One can + see in them the friendship and sentiments of the winter of life. Pshaw! + Josephine, ... that is very naughty, very abominable, very treasonable on + your part. What more remains to make me worthy of pity? All is already + done! To love me no more! To hate me! Well, then, let it be so! Every + thing humiliates but hatred, and indifference with its marmoreal pulse, + its staring eyes, and its measured steps. A thousand thousand kisses as + tender as my heart! I am somewhat better. I leave to-morrow. The English + are cruising on the Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. Good news for France + and for the army. + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + Bonaparte had gone to wage the last decisive battle. He writes to her from + Verona a few lines that he has arrived there, and that he is just going to + mount his horse to pursue the march. In this letter, however, he does not + tell Josephine that General Vaubois, with his fugitive regiments, has been + beaten by the Tyrolese, and that, driven from their mountains, he has + arrived in Verona; that Alvinzi occupies the Tyrol and has pushed on to + Brenta and to Etsch. Bonaparte was gathering his troops to drive away + General Alvinzi, who had occupied the heights of Caldiero, from these + important positions, and to take possession of them by main force. A + violent and desperate struggle ensued, and the day ended with victory on + the side of the Austrians. Bonaparte had to return to Verona; Alvinzi + maintained himself on the heights. + </p> + <p> + To the irritated general, disappointed in his plans and humiliated, his + love becomes his “bete de souffrance,” upon which he takes vengeance for + the defeat of Caldiero. Josephine has to endure the flaming wrath of + Bonaparte, in whom now general and lover are fused into one; but in his + expressions of anger the general has no complaints—it is the lover + who murmurs, who reprimands, and is irritated. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of the 12th November, the day of the defeat of Caldiero, + Bonaparte returned to Verona. The next day he wrote to Josephine: + </p> + <p> + “VERONA, the 3d Frimaire, Year V.” (November 13, 1796) + </p> + <p> + “I love you no more; on the contrary, I hate you. You are a wicked + creature, very inconsistent, very stupid, very silly. You do not write to + me. You do not love your husband. You know how much pleasure your letters + would afford, and you do not write to him even six lines, which you can + readily scribble out.” + </p> + <p> + “How, then, do you begin the day, madame? What important occupation takes + away your time from writing to your very excellent lover? What new + inclination chokes and thrusts aside the tender, abiding love which you + have promised him? What can this wonderful, this new love be, which lays + claim to all your time, and rules over your days, and hinders you from + occupying yourself with your husband? Josephine, be on your guard; on some + evil night the doors will be burst open and I shall stand before you!” + </p> + <p> + “In truth, I am restless, my dear one, because I receive no news from you. + Write me at once four pages about those things, which fill my heart with + emotion and pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I trust soon to fold you in my arms, and then I will overwhelm you with a + million of kisses burning like the equator.” + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + Whilst Bonaparte was pursuing and engaging with Wurmser and Alvinzi in + bloody hostilities, and writing to Josephine tender and angry letters of a + lover ever jealous, ever dissatisfied and envious, Josephine was leading + in Milan a life full of pleasure and amusement, full of splendor and + triumphs, of receptions and festivities. Every new victory, every onward + movement, was for the inhabitants of Milan, and her proud and rich nobles, + a fresh and welcome occasion to celebrate and glorify the wife of General + Bonaparte, and, through her, the hero who was to take away from their + necks the yoke of the Austrian, and who suspected not that he was so soon + to place upon them another yoke. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, true to the wishes and commands of Bonaparte, accepted these + festivities and this homage with all the affability and grace which + distinguished her. She had by degrees become familiar with this ceaseless + homage, which at first seemed so wearisome; by degrees she took delight in + this life of pleasure, in the incense of adulation, and the brilliancies + of fame. All the indolence, the dreamy carelessness, the graceful + abandonment of the creole had been again awakened in her. She cradled + herself playfully on the lulling, bright waves of pleasure as an insect + with golden wings, and she smiled complacently at the stream of encircling + festivities. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had told her to use all the arts of a woman to bind the Milanese + and the Lombards to herself and to her husband. With her smiles she was to + continue the conquest begun by Bonaparte’s sword. + </p> + <p> + She could not, therefore, live alone in quiet solitude; she could not + remain in obscurity while her husband was performing his part on the + theatre of war; she could not, by an appearance of gravity, or by a + clouded brow, furnish occasion to the suspicion that there existed doubt + in the future success of her husband, or in his prosperity and victory. + </p> + <p> + Roses were to crown her brow—a cheerful smile was to beam on her + countenance; with joyous spirit, she was to take part in the festivities + and pleasures—that the Milanese might see with what earnest + confidence she believed in Napoleon’s star! But Bonaparte, with all the + instinct of a genuine lover, had read the deepest secret of her soul; he + was envious and jealous, because he felt that Josephine did not belong to + him with her whole heart, her whole being, all her emotions and thoughts. + Her heart, which had received from the past so many scars and wounds, + could not yet have blossomed anew; it had been warmed by the glow of + Bonaparte’s love, but it was not yet thoroughly penetrated with that + passion which Bonaparte so painfully missed, so intensely craved. + </p> + <p> + The earnest, unfettered nature of his love intimidated her, while it + ravished and flattered her vanity; but her heart was not entirely his, it + had yet room for her children, for her friends, for the things of this + world! + </p> + <p> + Josephine loved Bonaparte with that soft, modest, and retiring affection, + which only by degrees—by the storms of anguish, jealousy, agony, and + the possibility of losing him—was to be fanned into that vitality + and glow which never cooled again in her heart, and which at last gave her + the death-stroke. + </p> + <p> + She therefore thought she was fulfilling her task when she, while + Bonaparte was fighting with weapons, conquered with smiles, and received + the homage of the conquered only as a tribute which they brought through + her to the warlike genius of her husband. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Bonaparte had taken vengeance for his defeat at Caldiero. + Through a ruse of war, he had decoyed Alvinzi from his safe and + impregnable position into one where he could meet him with his army + anxious for the fray, and give him battle. + </p> + <p> + The gigantic struggle lasted three days—and the close of the third + day brought to the conqueror, Bonaparte, the laurel-wreath of undying + glory, which, more enduring and dazzling than an imperial crown, + surrounded with a halo the hero’s brow long after that crown had fallen + from it. + </p> + <p> + This was the victory of Arcola, which Bonaparte himself decided by + snatching from the flag-bearer the standard of the retreating regiment, + and rushing with it, through a shower of balls, over the bridge of death + and destruction, and, with a voice heard above the thundering cannon, + shouting jubilant to his soldiers—“En avant, mes amis!” And bravely + the soldiers followed him—a brilliant victory was the result. + </p> + <p> + Elevated by this deed, the grandest and most glorious of his heroic + career, Napoleon returned to Verona on the 19th November. The whole city—all + Lombardy—sang to his praise their inspired hymns, and greeted with + enthusiasm the conqueror of Arcola. He, however, wanted a sweeter reward; + and after obtaining a second victory, on the 23d of November, by defeating + Wurmser near Mantua, he longed to rest and enjoy an hour’s happiness in + the arms of his Josephine. + </p> + <p> + From Verona he wrote to her on the day after the battle of Mantua, on the + 24th of November: + </p> + <p> + “I hope soon to be in your arms, my beloved one; I love you to madness! I + write by this courier for Paris. All is well. Wurmser was defeated + yesterday under Mantua. Your husband needs nothing but the love of his + Josephine to be happy. BONAPARTE.” + </p> + <p> + But the most terrible doubts hung yet over this love. The letter in which + Napoleon announced his coming had not reached Josephine; and, as the next + day he came to Milan with all the cravings and impatience of a lover, he + did not find Josephine there. + </p> + <p> + She had not suspected his coming; she had not dreamed that the commanding + officer could stop in his victorious course and give way to the lover. She + thought him far away; and, ever faithful to Bonaparte’s direction to + assist him in the conquest of Italy, she had accepted an invitation from + the city of Genoa, which had lately and gladly entered into alliance with + France. The most brilliant festivities welcomed her in this city of wealth + and palaces, and “Genova la superba” gathered all its magnificence, all + the splendor of its glory, to offer, under the eyes of all Europe, her + solemn homage to the wife of the celebrated hero of Arcola. + </p> + <p> + While Josephine, with joyous pride was receiving this homage, Bonaparte, + gloomy and murmuring, sat in his cabinet at Milan, and wrote to her: + </p> + <p> + “MILAN, the 7th Frimaire, Year V.,” Three o’clock. afternoon (November 27, + 1796). + </p> + <p> + “I have just arrived in Milan, and rush to your apartments. I have left + every thing to see you, to press you in my arms; .... you are not there! + You are pursuing a circle of festivities through the cities. You go away + from me at my approach; you trouble yourself no more about your dear + Napoleon. A spleen has made you love him; inconstancy renders you + indifferent. + </p> + <p> + “Accustomed to dangers, I know a remedy against ennui and the troubles of + life. The wretchedness I endure is not to be measured; I am entitled not + to expect it. + </p> + <p> + “I will wait here until the 9th. Do not trouble yourself. Pursue your + pleasures; happiness is made for you. The whole world is too happy when it + can please you, and your husband alone is very, very unhappy. + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + But this cry of anguish from this crushed heart did not reach Josephine; + and the courier, who next day came to Milan from Genoa, brought from + Josephine only a letter with numerous commissions for Berthier. + Bonaparte’s anger and sorrow knew no bounds, and he at once writes to her + with all the utterances of despair and complaint of a lover, and the proud + wrath of an injured husband: + </p> + <p> + “MILAN, the 8th Frimaire, Year V., eight o’clock, evening. + </p> + <p> + “The courier whom Berthier had sent to Milan has just arrived. You have + had no time to write to me; that I can understand very well. In the midst + of pleasures and amusements it would have been too much for you to make + the smallest sacrifice for me. Berthier has shown me the letter you wrote + to him. It is not my purpose to trouble you in your arrangements or in the + festivities which you are enjoying; I am not worth the trouble; the + happiness or the misery of a man you love no longer has not the right to + interest you. + </p> + <p> + “As regards myself, to love you and you alone, to make you happy, to do + nothing that can wrong you in any way, is the desire and object of my + life. + </p> + <p> + “Be happy, have nothing to reproach me, trouble not yourself about the + felicity of a man who only breathes in your life, who finds enjoyment only + in your happiness. When I claim from you a love which would approach mine, + I am wrong: how can one expect that a cobweb should weigh as much as gold? + When I sacrifice to you all my wishes, all my thoughts, all the moments of + my life, I merely obey the spell which your charms, your character, your + whole person, exercise over my wretched heart. I am wrong, for Nature has + not endowed me with the power of binding you to me; but I deserve from + Josephine in return at least consideration and esteem, for I love her unto + madness, and love her exclusively. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, adorable wife! farewell, my Josephine! May fate pour into my + heart every trouble and every sorrow; but may it send to my Josephine + serene and happy days! Who deserves it more than she? When it is well + understood that she loves me no more, I will garner up into my heart my + deep anguish, and be content to be in many things at least useful and good + to her. + </p> + <p> + “I open this letter once more to send you a kiss.... ah! Josephine. ... + Josephine! BONAPARTE.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile it was not yet well understood that Josephine loved him no more; + for as soon as she knew of Bonaparte’s presence in Milan, she hastened to + dispatch him a courier, and to apprise him of her sudden departure. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte did not leave Milan on the 9th; he remained there, waiting for + Josephine, to lift her up in his arms from her carriage, and to bear her + into her apartments; to enjoy with her a few happy days of a quiet, + domestic, and mutual love, all to themselves. + </p> + <p> + His presence with the army, however, soon became a matter of necessity; + for Alvinzi was advancing with considerable re-enforcements, with two army + corps to the relief of Mantua, and Bonaparte, notwithstanding his pressing + remonstrances to the Directory, having received but few re-enforcements + and very little money, had to exert all his powers and energy to press a + few advantages from the superior forces of the enemy. Everywhere his + presence and personal action were needed; and, constantly busy with war, + ever sword in hand, he could not, for long weeks, even once take pen IN + HAND and write to his Josephine. His longings had to subside before the + force of circumstances, which claimed the general’s whole time. + </p> + <p> + On the 3d of February, 1797, he again finds time to send her a few lines, + to say that he is breaking up and going to Rimini. Then, after Alvinzi had + been again defeated, after the fortress of Mantua had capitulated, + Bonaparte had to break up again and go to Rome, to require from the pope + the reason why he had made common cause with Austria, and shown himself + the enemy of the French republic. In Bologna he lingered a few days, as + Josephine, in compliance with his wishes, had come there to make amends by + her presence for so long a separation. + </p> + <p> + She remained in Bologna, while Bonaparte advanced toward the city of the + Church. But the gloomy quietude, the constant rumors of war, the + threatening dangers, the intrigues with which she was surrounded, the + hostile exertions of the priests, the want of society, of friendly faces, + every thing had a tendency to make Josephine’s residence in Bologna very + disagreeable, and to bring on sadness and nervousness. + </p> + <p> + In this gloomy state of mind she writes to Bonaparte that she feels sick, + exhausted and helpless; that she is anxious to return to Paris. He answers + her from Ancona: + </p> + <p> + “The 8th Pluviose, Year V. (February 16, 1797). + </p> + <p> + “You are sad, you are sick, you write to me no longer, you wish to return + to Paris! Do you no longer love your friend? This thought makes me very + unhappy. My dear friend, life is intolerable to me, since I have heard of + your sadness. + </p> + <p> + “I send you at once Moscati to take care of you. My health is somewhat + feeble; my cold hangs on. I pray you spare yourself, and love me as much + as I love you, and do write every day. My restlessness is horrible. + </p> + <p> + “I have given orders to Moscati to accompany you to Ancona, if you will + come. I will write to you and let you know where I am. + </p> + <p> + “I may perhaps make peace with the pope, and then will soon be with you; + it is the most intense desire of my life. + </p> + <p> + “I send a hundred kisses. Think not that any thing can equal my love, + unless it be my solicitude for you. Write to me every day yourself, my + dearly-beloved one! + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + But Josephine, in her depressed state of mind, and her nervous + irritability, did not have the courage to draw nearer the scenes of war, + and she dreaded to face again such dangers as once she had encountered in + Brescia and on her journey to Florence. She had not been able to overcome + the indolence of the Creole so much as to write to Bonaparte. Fully + conscious of his love and pardon, she relied upon them when, in her + reluctance to every exertion, she announced to him, through the physician + Moscati, that she would not come to Ancona, but would wait for him in + Bologna. + </p> + <p> + This news made a very painful impression upon Bonaparte, and filled him + with sorrow, though it reached him on a day in which he had obtained a new + triumph, a spiritual victory without any shedding of blood. The pope, + frightened at the army detachments approaching Rome, as well as at the + menacing language of the victor of Arcola, signed a peace with the French + republic, and with the general whose sword had bowed into the dust all the + princes of Italy, and freed all the population from their duties as + subjects. Bonaparte announced this to Josephine, and it is evident how + important it was to him that this news should precede even his + love-murmurings and reproaches. His letter was dated + </p> + <p> + “TOLONTINO, the 1st Ventose, Year V. (February 19,1797). + </p> + <p> + “Peace with Rome is signed. Bologna, Ferrara, Romagna fall into the hands + of the French republic. The pope has to pay us in a short time thirty + millions, and gives us many precious objects of art. + </p> + <p> + “I leave to-morrow for Ancona, and then for Rimini, Ravenna, and Bologna. + If your health permits, come over to meet me in Ravenna, but, I implore + you, spare yourself. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word from your hand! What have I done? To think only of you, to + love but you, to live but for my wife, to enjoy only my beloved’s + happiness, does this deserve such a cruel treatment from her? My friend, I + implore you, think of me, and write to me every day. Either you are sick, + or you love me no longer. Do you imagine, then, that my heart is of + marble? Why do you have so little sympathy with my sorrow? You must have a + very poor idea of me! That I cannot believe. You, to whom Nature has + imparted so much understanding, so much amiability, and so much beauty, + you, who alone can rule in my heart, you know, without doubt, what power + you have over me! + </p> + <p> + “Write to me, think of me, and love me. + </p> + <p> + “Yours entirely, yours for life, + </p> + <h3> + “BONAPARTE.” + </h3> + <p> + This is the last letter of Bonaparte to Josephine during his first Italian + campaign—the last at least in the series of letters which Queen + Hortense has made public, as the most beautiful and most glorious monument + to her mother. [Footnote: “Lettres de Napoleon a Josephine et de Josephine + a Napoleon et a sa fille. Londres et Leipzic, 1833.”] + </p> + <p> + We have dwelt upon them because these letters, like sunbeams, throw a + bright light on the new pathway of Josephine’s life—because they are + an eloquent and splendid testimony to the love which Josephine had + inspired in her young husband, and also to her amiableness, to her + sweetness of disposition, to her grace, and to all the noble and charming + qualities which procured her so much admiration and affection, and which + still caused her to be loved, sought for and celebrated, when she had to + descend from the height of a throne, and became the deserted, divorced + wife of the man who loved her immeasurably, and who so often had sworn to + her that this love would only end with his life! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. + </h2> + <p> + On the 18th of April were finally signed, in Leoben, the preliminaries of + peace between Austria and France, and which finally put an end to this + cruel war. Austria was compelled to acknowledge herself defeated, for even + the Archduke Charles, who had pushed forward from the Rhine with his army + to oppose the conqueror of Wurmser and of Alvinzi, had not been able to + arrest Bonaparte in his victorious career. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had publicly declared he would march toward Vienna, and dictate + to the Emperor of Germany, in his very palace, terms of peace. He was at + the point of carrying into execution this bold plan. Since the battle of + Tagliamento, on the 16th of March, the army of the archduke was broken, + and he could no longer prevent Bonaparte from marching with his army over + Laybach and Trieste into Germany. On the 25th of March, Bonaparte entered + into Klagenfurt; and now that he was but forty miles from the capital, the + Austrian court began to tremble at the approach of this army of + sans-culottes who, under the leadership of General Bonaparte, had been + transformed into heroes. She therefore accepted the propositions of peace + made by Bonaparte, and, as already said, its preliminaries were signed in + Leoben. + </p> + <p> + Now Bonaparte could rest after such constant and bloody work, now he could + again hasten to his Josephine, who was waiting for him in the palace of + Serbelloni. The whole city—all Lombardy—was with her, awaiting + him. His journey from Leoben to Milan was a continuous triumph, which, + however, reached its culminating point at his entrance into the city. + Milan had adorned herself for this day as a bride to receive her hero. + From every balcony waved the united French and Italian standards, costly + tapestries were hanging down, every window was occupied by beautiful women + gayly attired, and who, with large bouquets of flowers and waving + handkerchiefs, greeted the conqueror. All the dignitaries of the city went + to meet him in processional pomp; from every tower sounded the welcome + chimes, and the compact masses of the people in the streets and on the + roofs of the houses filled the air with the jubilant shout: “Long live the + deliverer of Italy! the conqueror of Austria!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine, surrounded by ladies of the highest aristocracy of Lombardy, + received her husband in the Palace Serbelloni. With radiant smiles, and + yet with tears in her eyes, she received him, her heart swelling with a + lofty joy at this ovation to Bonaparte; and through the glorification of + this victory he appeared to her more beautiful, more worthy of love, than + ever before. On this day of his return from so many battles and victories + her heart gave itself up with all its power, all its unreservedness and + fulness, to this wondrous man who had won so many important battles, and + who bowed before her alone with all the submissive humility of a conquered + man! From this day she loved him with that warm, strong love which was to + end only with her death. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had good reason to be happy on this day, for it brought her not + only her husband, but also a new source of happiness, her son, her dear + Eugene. Bonaparte had sent for him from Paris, and given him a commission + of second lieutenant in the first regiment of hussars, and had also + appointed him adjutant of the commanding general of the army of Italy, + perhaps as much to give to Josephine a new proof of his affection as to + attach Eugene to his person, for whom he felt the love of a father. + </p> + <p> + Near the returned general, Josephine, to her supreme delight, saw her dear + son, from whom she had been separated so long; and Eugene, whom she had + left in Paris a mere boy, presented himself to her in Milan, in his + officer’s uniform, as a youth, with countenance beaming with joy and eyes + full of lustre, ready to enter upon fame’s pathway, on which his + step-father, so brilliant a model, was walking before him. The maternal + heart of Josephine felt both love and pride at the sight of this young + man, so remarkable for his healthy appearance, and his youthful vigor and + genius, and she thanked Bonaparte with redoubled love for the joyous + surprise which his considerate affection had prepared for her. + </p> + <p> + Now began for Josephine and Bonaparte happy days, illumined by all the + splendor of festivities, of fealty exhibited, of triumphs realized. After + lingering a few days in Milan, Bonaparte, with his wife, the whole train + of his friends, his adjutants and servants, removed to the pleasure-castle + of Montebello, near Milan. + </p> + <p> + Here, amid rich natural scenery, in this large, imposing castle, which, + built on the summit of a hill, mantled with olive-groves and vineyards, + afforded on all sides a view of the surrounding, smiling plains of + Lombardy—here Bonaparte wished to rest from the hardships and + dangers of his last campaign; here, he wished to organize the great + Italian republic which was then the object of his exertions, and whose + iron crown he afterward coveted to place on his head. At Montebello he + wished to enact new laws for Italy, create new institutious, reduce to + silence, with threatening voice, the opposition of those who dared to + oppose to the new law of liberty the old centennial rights of possession + and of citizenship. + </p> + <p> + Italy was to be free, such was the will of her deliverer; and he took + great care not to let any one suspect or read the secret thoughts which he + kept hid behind the pompous proclamations of his authority. He therefore + answered evasively and vaguely those who came to fathom his designs, and + to become acquainted with his plans. + </p> + <p> + The Grand-duke of Tuscany sent to Montebello for this purpose, the Marquis + Manfredini. He was instructed to ask General Bonaparte if it was his + intention to destroy the grand-duchy of Tuscany, and to incorporate its + territory into the great Italian republic. The marquis implored Bonaparte + with persuasive, touching accents, to tell him what his plans were, and if + he would allow Tuscany to subsist as an independent state. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte, smiling, shrugged his shoulders: “Signor marquis,” said he, + “you remind me of that creditor who once asked the Cardinal de Rohan when + he wished to pay him. The cardinal simply answered: ‘My dear sir, do not + be so curious.’ If your grand-duke will keep quiet, he will suffer no + injury.” + </p> + <p> + Napoleon exhibited less friendliness and good-nature toward the republic + of Venice, which had also sent her delegates to Montebello for the sake of + reconciling the general, who had sworn vengeance against the republic, + because a sort of Sicilian Vespers had been organized there against the + French; and because, especially in Verona, and throughout the Venetian + provinces, thousands of Frenchmen had been murdered by the revolted + peasants, whom the fanatical priesthood had stirred to sedition. + </p> + <p> + Now, that Bonaparte had defeated the Grand-duke Charles, the hope of the + rebels, Venice humbly sent her most distinguished sons to plead for + forgiveness and indulgence, and to promise full reparation. But Napoleon + received them with contempt and threatening anger, and to their humble + petitions replied in a thundering voice, “I will be an Attila to Venice!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the same general, who swore the ruin of Venice, showed himself + conciliating and lenient toward Rome, and instead of being an Attila, he + endeavored to be a preserver and a protector. + </p> + <p> + The Directory in Paris was not fully satisfied with the peace which + Bonaparte had concluded with the pope. They thought Napoleon had been too + lenient with him; that he ought to have taken Rome from him, as he tore + away Milan from the Emperor of Germany. The five rulers of France went so + far as to make reproaches against Bonaparte for his leniency, and to + require from him the downfall of the pope, and with him that of + Catholicism. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte had the boldness to oppose these demands of the Directory, + and to set up his will in defiance to their supreme authority. + </p> + <p> + He wrote to the Directory: “You say with reason that the Roman religion + will long be the enemy of the republic; that is very true, but it is + equally true that, on account of the great distance you are from the scene + of events, you cannot measure the amount of difficulty there is in + carrying out your orders. + </p> + <p> + “You wish to destroy the Catholic Church in a city where it has ruled so + many years. Believe me, it is useless to burden ourselves with fruitless + labor. We have already enough to do; to defeat our enemies on the field of + battle, it is not necessary to arouse all Europe against us—even the + heretics, through policy, would defend the cause of the Holy See. Are you + fully convinced that France would calmly look on? France needs a religious + worship: that which you propose cannot, on account of its simplicity, + replace this one. Follow my advice: let the pope be pope! If you bury his + earthly power, acknowledge at least his spiritual authority. Force him not + to seek refuge at a foreign court, where by his mere presence it would + gain an immense ascendency. Italy wants religion and the pope. If she is + wounded in her faith, she will be hostile to us, while now she is + peaceably inclined. I repeat, the present difficulties are too weighty, to + add new ones. Who can fathom the future? Who can assume the responsibility + of such a deed as the one you propose? I shall not, therefore, do it, + since you leave it with me to inform you on the subject. I consider it + dangerous to conjure up fanaticism. The Catholic religion is that of the + arts, and the arts are absolutely necessary to Italy’s welfare. Be sure + that if you destroy the former, you give a fatal blow to the latter, and + that the Italians are good accountants. Ponder well these matters, then, + and be sure that Catholicism has ceased to exist in France. Are you well + satisfied that no one there will go back to it?” + </p> + <p> + While in Montebello, though the sword had been laid aside, Bonaparte was + still busy with war affairs, and the quarrels of princes and nations. + Josephine at the same time passed there the honored life of a mighty + princess, whose favors and intercessions the great and the powerful of + earth endeavored to obtain by every conceivable means. The ladies of the + aristocracy of Milan were eager to pay their homage to the wife of the + deliverer; the courts of Italy, as well as other parts of Europe, sent + ambassadors to General Bonaparte; and these gentlemen were naturally + zealous in offering their incense to Josephine, in surrounding her with + courtly and flattering attentions. The Marquis de Gallo, the ambassador of + Spain at the court of Verona, came with the Austrian ambassador, the Count + von Meerfeld, to Montebello, to enter into negotiations about the peace + which was to form the precious key-stone to the preliminaries of Leobeu; + and these two gentlemen, who opposed to the plain manners of Bonaparte’s + companions-in-arms the very essence of refined, polished, and witty + courtiers, rivalled each other in showing to Josephine their highest + consideration by their festivities and amusements; to win her favor and + interest through the most complacent and considerate attention to all her + views, wishes, and plans. + </p> + <p> + Josephine received all this homage with the enchanting and smiling + quietude of a woman who, without exaltation or pride, feels no surprise at + any flattery or homage, but kindly and thankfully accepts what is due to + her. Among this brilliant Italian aristocracy which surrounded her—among + the ambassadors of the powers who sued not so much for alliance with + France as for General Bonaparte’s favor—among the generals and + superior officers who had shared with Bonaparte the dangers of the + battle-field and the laurels of victory—among learned men, artists, + and poets, whom Bonaparte had often invited to Montebello—among so + brilliant, so wealthy, so superior, so intelligent a society, Josephine + shone as the resplendent sun around which all these planets moved, and + from which they all received life, light, and happiness. She received the + ambassadors of sovereigns with the dignity and affability of a princess; + she conversed with the most distinguished ladies in cheerful simplicity, + and with the unaffected joyousness and harmless innocency of a young + maiden; she conversed with men of learning and artists in profound and + serious tones, about their labors, their efforts, and success; she allowed + the generals to relate the momentous events of the late great battles, and + her eye shone with deeper pride and pleasure when from the mouth of the + brave she heard the enthusiastic praise of her husband. + </p> + <p> + Then her keen looks would be directed toward Bonaparte, who perchance + stood in a window recess, engaged in some grave, solemn conversation with + an eminent ambassador; her eyes again would glance from her husband to her + son, to this young officer of seventeen years, who now laughed, jested, + and played, as a boy, and then with respectful attention listened to the + conversation of the generals, and whose countenance beamed with + inspiration as they spoke to him of the mighty deeds of war and the plans + of battle of his step-father, whom Eugene loved with the affection of a + son, and the enthusiasm of a disciple who looks up to and reveres his + master. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Josephine was happy in these days of Montebello. The past, with its + sad memories, its deceptions and errors, had sunk behind her, and a + luminous future sent its rays upon her at the side of the man whom + jubilant Italy proclaimed “her deliverer,” and whom Josephine’s joyous + heart acknowledged to be her hero, her beloved. For now she loved him + truly, not with that love of fifteen years past, with the marmoreal pulse, + of which Bonaparte had spoken to her in his letters, but with all the + depth and glow of which a woman’s heart is capable, with all the passion + and jealousy of which the heart of a creole alone is susceptible. + </p> + <p> + Happy, sunny days of Montebello! days full of love, of poetry, of beauty, + of happiness!—full of the first, genial, undisturbed, mutual + communion!—days of the first triumphs, of the first homage, of the + first dawn of a brilliant future! Never could the memory of those days + fade away from Josephine’s heart; never could the empress, in the long + series of her triumphs and rejoicings, point to an hour like one of those + she had, as the wife of the general, enjoyed at Montebello! + </p> + <p> + Every day brought new festivities, new joys, new receptions: balls, + official banquets, select friendly dinners, came by turns; in brilliant + soirees, they received the aristocracy of Lombardy, who, with ever-growing + zeal, struggled for the honor of being received at the court of + Montebello, and to see the doors of the drawing-room of the wife of + General Bonaparte open to them. Sometimes parties were made up for a + chase, of which Berthier acted as master, and who was not a whit behind in + organizing hunting-parties in the style of those of the former court of + Versailles, where he once had acted as page. + </p> + <p> + At times, in the warm days of May, the whole company went out together on + the large and splendid piazza which ran along the castle, on the garden + side, and which was supported by slender marble columns, and whose roof, + made of thin wire-work, was thickly shaded by the foliage of the vine, the + ivy, and the delicate leaves of the passion-flower. Here, resting on the + marble settees, one listened in blessed happiness to the music of bands + secreted in some myrtle-grove and playing military symphonies or patriotic + melodies. Then, as the evening faded away, when the court of Montebello, + as the Italians now called the residence of the general of the republic, + had no brilliant reception, they gathered in the drawing-room, where + Josephine, with all the affability of a lady from the great world, + received her guests, and with all the modesty and grace of a simple + housewife served herself the tea. + </p> + <p> + These quiet social evenings in the little drawing-room of Josephine, away + from excitement, were among Bonaparte’s happiest moments; there, for a few + hours at least, he forgot the mighty cares and schemes which occupied his + mind, and abandoned himself to the joys of society, and to a cheerful + intercourse with his family and friends. In these quiet evenings Josephine + exerted all the art and refinement of her great social nature to render + Bonaparte cheerful and to amuse him. She sometimes organized a party of + vingtet-un, and Bonaparte with his cards was as eager for the victory as + in days past he had been with his soldiers. Very often, when success did + not favor him, and his cards were not such as suited him, the great + general would condescend to correct fate (de corriger la fortune); and he + was much delighted when in his expertness he succeeded, and, thanks to his + correction of fate, obtained the victory over his play-mates. When the + parti was ended, they went out on the terrace to enjoy the balmy air and + refreshing coolness of the evening, and to take delight in witnessing the + enchanting spectacle afforded by the thousands of little stars with which + the fire-flies illumined the darkness of the summer night and encircled + the lake as with a coronet of emeralds. + </p> + <p> + When they grew tired of this, they returned to the drawing-room to listen + to Josephine’s fine, full, soul-like voice singing the songs of her + island-home, or else to find amusement in the recital of fairy tales and + marvellous stories. None understood this last accomplishment better than + Bonaparte; and it required only the gracious request, the lovely smiles of + his Josephine, to convert the general into one of those improvisatores who + with their stories, more resembling a dramatic representation than a + narrative, could exalt the Italian mind into ecstasy, and be ever sure to + attract an attentive audience. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte understood the art of holding his audience in suspense, and + keeping them in breathless attention, quite as well as an improvisator of + the Place of St. Mark or of Toledo Street. His stories were always full of + the highest dramatic action and thrilling effect; and it was his greatest + triumph when he saw his hearers turn pale, and when Josephine, shuddering, + clung anxiously to him, as if seeking from the soldier’s hand protection + against the fearful ghosts he had evoked. + </p> + <p> + After the marvellous stories came grave scientific conversations with men + of learning, whom Bonaparte had invited for the sake of deriving from + their intercourse both interest and instruction. Among these were the + renowned mathematicians Maria Fontana, Monge, and Berthelet; and the + famous astronomer Oriani, whom Bonaparte, through a very flattering + autographic note, had invited to Montebello. + </p> + <p> + But Oriani, little accustomed to society and to conversation with any one + but learned men, was very reluctant to come to Montebello, and would + gladly have avoided it had he not been afraid of exciting the wrath of the + great warrior. Bonaparte, surrounded by his generals, his staff-officers + and adjutants, was in the large and splendidly-illumined drawing-room when + Oriani made his appearance. + </p> + <p> + The savant, timid and embarrassed, remained near the door, and dared not + advance a single step farther on this brilliant floor, where the lights of + the chandeliers were reflected, and which filled the savant with more + bewilderment than the star-bespangled firmament. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte’s keen eye understood at once his newly-arrived guest; he + advanced eagerly toward him, and as Oriani, stammering and embarrassed, + was endeavoring to say something, but grew silent in the midst of his + speech, the former smilingly asked: + </p> + <p> + “What troubles you so much? You are among your friends; we honor science, + and I willingly bow to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, general,” sighed Oriani, sorrowfully, “this magnificence dazzles me.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. “What!” said he, looking around with a + contemptuous glance on the mirrors and rich tapestries which adorned the + walls, and on the glittering chandeliers, the embroidered uniforms of the + generals, and the costly toilets of the ladies—“what, do you call + this magnificence? Can these miserable splendors blind the man who every + night contemplates the far more lofty and impressive glories of the + skies?” + </p> + <p> + The savant, recalled by these warning words of Bonaparte to the + consciousness of his own dignity, soon recovered his quiet demeanor and + conversed long and gladly with the general, who never grew tired of + putting questions to him, and of gaining from him information. + </p> + <p> + But there were also cloudy moments in Montebello, oftentimes overshadowing + the serene sunshine. They came from France—from Rome—and there + were even some which had their origin in Montebello. These clouds which + were formed in Montebello, and which caused slight showers of tears with + Josephine, and little tempests of anger with Bonaparte, were certainly not + of a very serious nature; they owed their origin to a lapdog, and this pet + dog was Fortune, the same which in days gone by had been the + letter-carrier between Josephine and her children when she was in the + Carmelite prison. Notwithstanding Fortune had become old and peevish, + Josephine and her children loved him for the sake of past reminiscences, + while Bonaparte simply hated and detested him. Bonaparte had, however, + perhaps without wishing it, erected for him an abiding monument in the + “Memorial de Ste. Helene,” where he gave a report of his hostilities with + the lapdog Fortune, along with those of his wars with the European powers. + </p> + <p> + “I was then,” says Bonaparte, in his “Memorial,” “the ruler of Italy, but + in my own house I had nothing to say; there Josephine’s will was supreme. + There was an ugly, growling personage, at war with everybody, whose bad + qualities made him intolerable to me and to others, yet he was an + important individual, who was by Josephine and her children flattered from + morning till evening, and who was the object of their most delicate + attentions. Fortune, to me a hateful beast, was a horrible lapdog, with + crooked legs and deformed body, without the slightest beauty or kindness, + but of a most malicious disposition. I would gladly have killed him, and + often prayed Heaven to deliver me from him. This happiness was, however, + reserved for me in Montebello. A bull-dog which belonged to my cook became + tired of his churlish incivilities, and not having the same + considerateness as the rest of the inmates of the palace of Montebello, he + attacked the detestable animal so violently as to kill him on the spot. + Then began tears and sighs in the house. Josephine could not be comforted; + Eugene wept, and I myself against my will put on a sorrowful countenance. + But I gained nothing by this fortunate accident. After Fortune had been + stuffed, sung in sonnets, and made immortal by funeral discourses, he was + replaced by two setters, male and female. Then came the amiable displays + and the bickerings of this love-couple, and afterward their progeny. So + that I knew not what to do. + </p> + <p> + “Soon after this, as I was walking in the park, I noticed my cook, who, as + soon as he saw me, disappeared on a side-path. + </p> + <p> + “‘Are you afraid of me?’ said I. “’ Ah, general,’ replied he, timidly, + ‘you have good reason to be angry with me.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I? What have you done?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘My unfortunate dog has indeed killed poor little Fortune.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Where is your dog?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘He is in the city. God have mercy on us! he dares not come here.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Listen, my good fellow’ (but I spoke in a low voice, for fear of being + heard), ‘let your dog run about just as he likes—perhaps he may + deliver me from the others.’ + </p> + <p> + “But this happiness was not in reserve for me. Josephine, not satisfied + with dogs, soon after this procured a cat, which brought me into a state + of despair; for this detestable animal was the most vicious of its race. + ....” [Footnote: Memorial de Ste. Helene.] + </p> + <p> + The strifes with Fortune, with the setters, and with the cat, troubled + Bonaparte less than the intrigues which his enemies in Italy, as well as + in France, stirred up against him, and through them endeavored to destroy + him. + </p> + <p> + In Italy it was the priests who had sworn deadly enmity to Bonaparte, and + who, with all the weapons which the arsenal of the Church, fanaticism, and + superstition, furnished them, fought against the general who had dared to + break the power of the pope, and to restrict within narrower limits the + rule of the priests. It was these priests who continually made the most + furious opposition to the ascendency which Bonaparte had won over the + Italian mind, and sought constantly to rouse up, within the minds of the + people, opposition to him. + </p> + <p> + One day, Marmont announced that a certain Abbe Sergi was exciting the + peasants against the French, and especially against Bonaparte; that he was + preaching sedition and rebellion in Christ’s name, and was showing to the + ignorant laborers a letter, which he had received from Christ, in which it + was declared that General Bonaparte was an atheist and a heretic, whom one + ought to destroy and drive away from Italy’s sacred soil. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte at once ordered Marmont to arrest this Abbe Sergi, who lived in + Poncino, and to bring him to Montebello. His orders were followed, and, + after a few days, the captive abbe was brought before the general. He + seemed cheerful, unaffected, and assumed the appearance of being + unconscious of guilt. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the man,” exclaimed Bonaparte, “to whom Christ writes letters + from Paradise?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! signor general, you are joking,” replied the abbe, smiling—but + one of Bonaparte’s angry looks fell upon his broad, well-fed face, and + forced the priest into silence. + </p> + <p> + “I am not joking,” answered Bonaparte, angrily; “you, however, are joking + with the peasants, since you are telling these poor, superstitious men + that you are in correspondence with Christ.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! signor general,” sighed the abbe, with contrite mien, “I wanted to + do something in the defence of our cause, and what can a poor clergyman + do?—he has no weapons—” + </p> + <p> + “Mind that in future you procure other weapons!” interrupted Bonaparte, + vehemently. “That will be better for you than to dare use the Deity for + your schemes of wickedness. I order you to receive no more letters from + Paradise, not even from Christ. Correspond with your equals, and be on + your guard, or you will soon find that I can punish the disobedient!” + </p> + <p> + The abbe bowed penitently, and with tears in his eyes. Bonaparte turned + his back to him, and ordered him to be taken to Poncino. + </p> + <p> + From that day, however, much as he hated General Bonaparte, the Abbe Sergi + received no more letters from Paradise. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, the letters of the Abbe Sergi were not those which gave the + most solicitude to Bonaparte; much worse were those he received from + Paris, which gave him an account of the persevering intrigues of his + enemies, and the malicious slanders that were circulated against him by + the Directory, who were envious of his power and superiority, and which + mischievous and poisonous calumnies were re-echoed in the newspapers. + </p> + <p> + These insidious attacks of the journals, more than any thing else, excited + Bonaparte’s vehement anger. The hero who, on the battle-field, trembled + not before the balls which whizzed about his head, had a violent dislike + to those insect-stings of critics who, like wasps humming round about the + laurel-wreath on his brow, ever found between the leaves of his fame some + place where with their stings they could wound him, and who was as + sensitive as a young blameless maiden would be against the wasp-stings of + slander. + </p> + <p> + This irritable sensitiveness led him to consider those detestable attacks + of the journals worth a threatening denunciation to the Directory. + </p> + <p> + “Citizen-directors,” wrote he to them, “I owe you an open confession; my + heart is depressed and filled with horror through the constant attacks of + the Parisian journals. Sold to the enemies of the republic, they rush upon + me, who am boldly defending the republic. ‘I am keeping the plunder,’ + whilst I am defeating them; ‘I affect despotism,’ whilst I speak only as + general-in-chief; ‘I assume supreme power,’ and yet I submit to law! Every + thing I do is turned to a crime against me; the poison streams over me. + </p> + <p> + “Were any one in Italy to dare give utterance to the one-thousandth part + of those calumnies, I would impose upon him an awful silence! + </p> + <p> + “In Paris, this is allowed to go on unpunished, and your tolerance is an + encouragement. The Directory is thus producing the impression that it is + opposed to me. If the directors suspect me, let them say so, and I will + justify myself. If they are convinced of my uprightness, let them defend + me. + </p> + <p> + “In this circle of argument, I include the Directory with me, and cannot + go beyond it. My desire is, to be useful to my country. Must I, for + reward, drink the cup of poison? + </p> + <p> + “I can no longer be satisfied with empty, evasive arguments; and if + justice is not done to me, then I must take it myself. Therefore, I am + yours. Salutation and brotherly love. BONAPAKTE.” + </p> + <p> + But all these vexations, hostilities, and calumnies, were, however, as + already said, mere clouds, which now and then obscured the bright sunshine + at the court of Montebello. At a smile or a loving word from Josephine, + they flew away rapidly, and the sunshine again in all its splendor, the + pleasures, feasts, and joys, continued in their undisturbed course. All + Italy did homage to the conqueror, and it was therefore very natural that + sculptors and painters should endeavor to draw some advantage from this + enthusiasm for its deliverer, and that they should endeavor to represent + to the admirers of Bonaparte his peculiar form and countenance. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte did not like to have his portrait painted. The staring, + watchful gaze of an artist was an annoyance to him; it made him restless + and anxious, as if he feared that the scrutinizing look at his face might + read the secrets of his soul. Yet at Josephine’s tender and pressing + request he had consented to its being taken by a young painter, Le Gros, + whose distinguished talent had been brought to his notice. + </p> + <p> + Le Gros came therefore to Montebello, happy in the thought that he could + immortalize himself through a successful portrait of the hero whom he + honored with all the enthusiasm of a young heart. But he waited in vain + three days for Bonaparte to give him a sitting. The general had not one + instant to spare for the unfortunate young artist. + </p> + <p> + At last, at Josephine’s pressing request, Bonaparte consented on the + fourth day to sit for him one-quarter of an hour after breakfast. Le Gros + came therefore delighted, at the time appointed, into the cabinet of + Josephine, and had his easel ready, awaiting the moment when Bonaparte + would sit in the arm-chair opposite. But, alas! the painter’s hopes were + not to be realized. The general could not bring himself to sit in that + arm-chair, doing nothing but keeping his head quiet, so that the painter + might copy his features. He had no sooner been seated, than he sprang up + suddenly, and declared it was quite impossible to endure such martyrdom. + </p> + <p> + Le Gros dared not repeat his request, but with tears in his eyes gathered + up his painting-materials. Josephine smiled. “I see very well,” said she, + “that I must have recourse to some extraordinary means to save for me and + for posterity a portrait of the hero of Arcola.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down in the arm-chair, and beckoned to Le Gros to have his easel + in readiness. Then with a tender voice she called Napoleon to her, and + opening both arms she drew him down on her lap, and in this way she + induced him to sit down quietly a few moments and allow the painter the + sight of his face, thus enabling him to sketch the portrait. [Footnote: + “Memoires et Souvenirs du Comte Lavalette,” vol. i., p. 168.] + </p> + <p> + At the end of this peculiar sitting, Bonaparte smilingly promised that he + would next day grant the painter a second one, provided Josephine would + again have the “extraordinary means” ready. She consented, and for four + days in succession Le Gros was enabled to sit before him a quarter of an + hour, and throw upon his canvas the features of the general, while he + quietly sat on Josephine’s lap. + </p> + <p> + This picture, which Le Gros thus painted, thanks to the sweet ruse of + Josephine, and which was scattered throughout Europe in copperplate + prints, represented Bonaparte, with uncovered head, holding a standard in + his hand, and with his face turned toward his soldiers, calling on them to + follow him as he dashed on the bridge of Arcola, amid a shower of Austrian + balls. + </p> + <p> + It is a beautiful, imposing picture, and contemporaries praised it for its + likeness to the hero, but no one could believe that this pale, grave + countenance, these gloomy eyes, and earnest lips, which seemed incapable + of a smile, were those of Bonaparte as he sat on the lap of his beloved + Josephine when Le Gros was painting it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. THE PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO. + </h2> + <p> + After three months the time drew nigh when the peace negotiations were to + reach a final conclusion, and when it was to be decided if the Emperor of + Germany would make peace with the French republic or if he would renew the + war. + </p> + <p> + For three months had the negotiations continued in Montebello—three + months of feasts, pleasures, and receptions. To the official and public + rejoicings had been also added domestic joys. Madame Letitia came to Italy + to warm her happy, proud mother’s heart at the triumphs of her darling + son; and she brought with her her daughter Pauline, while the youngest, + Caroline, remained behind in Madame Campan’s boarding-school. It could not + be otherwise than that the sisters of the commander-in-chief, whose true + beauty reminded one of the classic features of ancient Greece, should find + among the officers of the army of Italy most enthusiastic admirers and + worshippers, and that many should long for the favor of being more + intimately connected by the ties of affection with the celebrated general. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte left his sisters entirely free to make a choice among their + suitors, and he hesitated not to give his consent when Pauline became + affianced to General Leclerc. After a few weeks, the marriage was + celebrated in Montebello; and, soon after, the happy couple left that city + to return to Paris, whither Madame Letitia had preceded them. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, however, remained with her husband; she accompanied him from + Montebello to Milan, where Bonaparte, now that the Austrian envoys had + taken their leave, tarried some time, awaiting the final decision of the + Austrian court upon his propositions. Meanwhile, the imperial court, for + good reasons, still hesitated. It was known that in France there was + secretly preparing an event which in a short time might bring on a new + order of things, putting an end to the hateful republic, and once more + placing the Bourbons on the throne of the lilies. + </p> + <p> + General Pichegru, a zealous royalist, and intimate friend of the Prince de + Conde, with whom he had been in secret correspondence for several months, + had organized a conspiracy which had for its object the downfall of the + Directory, the ruin of the republican administration, the recall of the + monarchy to Paris, and the re-establishment of the Bourbons. + </p> + <p> + But General Moreau, who, with his army on the Rhine, stood opposite to + that of the royalists, had the good fortune to discover the conspiracy, by + intercepting Pichegru’s whole correspondence. The Directory, informed by + Moreau, took secretly precautionary measures, and on the 18th Fructidor, + Pichegru, with all his real or supposed guilty companions, was arrested. + To these guilty ones belonged also, according to the opinion of the + Directory, two out of their number, Carnot and Barthelemy, besides + twenty-two deputies and one hundred and twenty-eight others, all among the + educated classes of society. These were exiled to Cayenne; Carnot alone + escaped from this distant and cruel exile by a timely flight to Geneva. + </p> + <p> + The 18th Fructidor, which disarmed the royalists and destroyed their + plans, had a great influence upon the negotiations carried on between + France and Austria, which were entangled with so many difficulties. + Austria, which had vacillated and delayed—for she was informed of + the schemes of the royalists, and hoped that if Louis XVIII. should ascend + the throne, she would be delivered from all the burdensome exactions of + the republic—now saw that this abortive attempt had removed the + royalists still further from their object and more firmly consolidated the + republic; she was therefore inclined to push on negotiations more + speedily, and to show greater readiness to bring on a final settlement. + </p> + <p> + The conferences broken off in Montebello were resumed in Udine. Thither + came the Austrian and French plenipotentiaries. Bonaparte, however, felt + that his presence was also necessary, so as not to allow these conferences + again to remain in abeyance. He therefore, accompanied by Josephine, went + to Passeriano, a beautiful residence of the Doge Marini, not far from + Udine, charmingly situated on the shores of the Tagliamento, and in the + midst of a splendid park. But the residence in Passeriano was not + enlivened by the pleasures, recreations, and festivities of Montebello. + Politics alone occupied Bonaparte’s mind, and not only the peace + negotiations, but also the Directory of the republic, furnished him with + too many occasions for ill-will and anger. + </p> + <p> + Austria, which had added the Count von Coblentz to her plenipotentiaries, + adhered obstinately to her former claims; and the Directory, which now + felt stronger and more secure by their victory of the 18th Fructidor, were + so determined not to accept these claims, that they wrote to General + Bonaparte that they would sooner resume hostilities than concede to “the + overpowered, treacherous Austria, sworn into all the conspiracies of the + royalists, her unreasonable pretensions.” + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte knew better than the proud lords of the Directory, that + France needed peace as well as Austria; that France lacked gold, men, and + ammunition, for the vigorous prosecution of the war. While, therefore, the + Directory, enthroned in the Luxemburg, amid peace and luxury, desired a + renewal of hostilities, it was the man of battles who desired peace, and + who was inclined to make to Austria insignificant concessions sooner than + see the work of peace dashed to pieces. + </p> + <p> + The sole recreation in Passeriano consisted in the banquets which were + interchanged between it and Udine, and where Josephine found much + pleasure, at least in the conversation of the Count von Coblentz, who + could speak to her with spirit and grace of his sojourn in Petersburg—of + Catharine the Great, at whose court he had been accredited so long as + ambassador from Austria, and who had even granted him the privilege of + being present at her private evening circles at the Hermitage. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was still busy with the glowing tenderness of a worshipping + lover, in procuring for his Josephine pleasures and recreations, as each + favorable opportunity presented itself. + </p> + <p> + The republic of Venice, now laboring under the greatest anxiety and fear + on account of Bonaparte’s anger at her perfidy and enmity, had descended + from the height of her proud attitude to the most abject humility. Her + solicitude for mere existence made her so far forget her dignity, that she + humbly invited Bonaparte, whose loud voice of anger pronounced only + vengeance and destruction, to come and receive in person their homage and + the assurance of their loyalty. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte refused this invitation as regarded his own person, for in his + secret thoughts the ruin of Venice was a settled matter; and as the + death-warrant of this republic of terror and secret government was already + signed in his thoughts, he could not accept her feasts and her homage. But + he did not wish before the time to betray to the republic his own + conclusions, and his refusal to accept their invitation ought not to have + the appearance of a hostile demonstration. He therefore sent to Venice a + representative, who, in his name, was to receive the humble homage and the + assurances of friendship from the republic. This representative was + Josephine, and she gladly undertook this mission, without foreseeing that + Venice, which adorned itself for her sake with flowers and festivities, + was but the crowned victim at the eve of the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + As Bonaparte himself could not accompany his wife, he sent with her as an + escort the ex-magistrate Marmont; and in his memoirs the latter relates + with enthusiasm the feasts which the republic of Venice gave in honor of + the general upon whom, as she well knew, her future fate depended. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Bonaparte,” says he, “was four days in Venice. I accompanied her + hither. Three days were devoted to the most splendid feasts. On the first + day there was a regatta, a species of amusement which seems reserved only + to Venice, the queen of the sea. ... Six or seven gondolas, each manned by + one or two oarsmen, perform a race which begins at St. Mark’s Square, and + ends at the Rialto bridge. These gondolas seem to fly; persons who have + never seen them can form no idea of their swiftness. The beauty of the + representation consists especially in the immense gatherings of the + spectators. The Italians are extremely fond of this spectacle; they come + from great distances on the continent to see it; there is not in Venice an + individual who rushes not to the Canal Grande to enjoy the spectacle; and + during the time of the regatta of which I am speaking, the wharves on the + Canal Grande were covered with at least one hundred and fifty thousand + persons, all full of curiosity. More than five hundred small and large + barges, adorned with flowers, flags, and tapestries, followed the + contesting gondolas. + </p> + <p> + “The second day we had a sea-excursion; a banquet had been prepared on the + Lido: the population followed in barges adorned with wreaths and flowers, + and to the sound of music re-echoing far and near. + </p> + <p> + “The third day, a night promenade took place. The palace of the doge, and + the houses along the Canal Grande, were illuminated in the most brilliant + manner, and gave light to hundreds of gondolas, which also were made + luminous with divers-colored lamps. After a promenade of two hours, and a + splendid display of fireworks in the midst of the waters, the ball opened + in the palace of the doge. When we think of the means which the situation + of Venice offers, the beauty of her architecture, the wonderful animation + of the thousand gondolas closely pressed together, causing the impression + of a city in motion; and when we think of the great exertions which such + an occasion would naturally call forth, the brilliant imagination of this + people so remarkable for its refined taste, and its burning lusts for + pleasure—then we can form some idea of the wondrous spectacle + presented by Venice in those days. It was no more the mighty Venice, it + was the elegant, the luxurious Venice.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Due de + Raguse,” vol. i., p. 287.] + </p> + <p> + After those days of festivities, Josephine, the queen of them, returned to + the quietude of Passeriano, which, after the sunshine of Venice, must have + appeared to her still more gloomy and sad. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte himself was weary of all this useless repose, and he + resolved with a daring blow to cut into shreds those diplomatic knots of + so many thousand interwoven threads. + </p> + <p> + The instrument with which he was to give the blow was not the sword—it + was not that which Alexander had used, but it was a cup. This cup, at a + dejeuner given to him by the Count von Coblentz, where was displayed the + costly porcelain service presented to him by the Empress Catharine, was + dashed at the feet of the Count von Coblentz by Bonaparte, who, with a + thundering voice, exclaimed: “In fourteen days I will dash to pieces the + Austrian monarchy as I now break this!” + </p> + <p> + The Count von Coblentz, infuriated at this, was still staring in + bewilderment at the fragments of the imperial gift, when Bonaparte left + the room, to enter his carriage. With a loud voice he called to one of the + officers of his suite, and gave him orders to go at once to the camp of + the Archduke Charles, and to tell him, in the name of General Bonaparte, + that the peace negotiations were broken, and that hostilities would be + resumed next day. + </p> + <p> + But as Bonaparte was going toward his carriage, he met the Marquis de + Gallo, who besought him to re-enter the room; he assured him that it had + been resolved to accept Bonaparte’s ultimatum—that is to say, to + renounce all claims to the fortress of Mantua. + </p> + <p> + On the next day [Footnote: The 17th of October, 1797.] the treaty of peace + between Austria and France was signed. It had been decided that the + ceremony of signing it should take place in the village of Campo Formio, + which for this reason was declared to be neutral ground. It lay midway + between Udine and Passeriano; and Bonaparte sent his adjutant, Marmont, + into the village to select a house where the ceremony might take place. + But there was not a single building which was in any way fitted to receive + such distinguished guests. The Austrian diplomats, therefore, consented to + come to Passeriano to ratify the terms of peace, provided, it should be + named after the neutral territory of Campo Formio. + </p> + <p> + The Count von Coblentz and the Marquis de Gallo passed the whole day at + Passeriano, in the company of Bonaparte and Josephine. In Josephine’s + drawing-room each abandoned himself to the most cheerful and unaffected + conversation, while at the same time the secretaries of both the Austrian + and French embassies were in the cabinet of the French general, writing + two copies of the mutual agreements of peace which were to be signed by + Bonaparte and by the Austrian plenipotentiaries. + </p> + <p> + During the whole day Bonaparte was in high spirits. He had reached his + aim: the strife was over; diplomatic bickerings were at rest; the small as + well as the great war was ended; peace was gained at last! Bonaparte had, + not only on the battle-field, but also at the green-table, been + victorious; he had not only overcome Austria, but also the Directory. + During the whole day he remained in the drawing-room with Josephine and + his Austrian guests, and without any affectation he took his part in the + conversation. It was so pleasant to him to be thus in confidential + intercourse, that, as the evening came on, he would not allow lights to be + brought into the drawing-room. As if they were in a sociable family + circle, in some old remote castle, they amused themselves in relating + ghost-stories, and here, too, Bonaparte won a victory. His story surpassed + all others in horrors and thrilling fears, and the dramatic mode of its + delivery increased its effect. Josephine became excited as if by some + living reality; and while Bonaparte, with an affrighted, trembling voice, + was describing how the door opened, how the blood-stained ghost with + hollow eyes entered, she screamed aloud, and tremblingly clung to his arm. + </p> + <p> + At this moment it was announced that the secretaries had prepared the + documents of the treaty, and that nothing was wanting to make it operative + but the signatures. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte laughingly thanked his Josephine with a kiss for the flattering + effect produced by his ghost-story, and then he hastened into his cabinet + to attach his signature to the peace of Campo Formio. [Footnote: + Lavalette, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 250.] + </p> + <p> + This peace gave to France the left bank of the Rhine, with the fortress of + Mayence: it delivered Italy from the rule of Austria, but it repaid + Austria by giving her possession of the beautiful city of the lagoons, + Venice, which made Austria mistress of the Adriatic Sea. + </p> + <p> + Peace was concluded, and now Bonaparte, with his laurels and victories, + could return to Paris; now he could hope that he had swept away, from the + memory even of his adversaries, the sad success of the 13th Vendemiaire, + by the series of brilliant victories and conquests which he had obtained + in the name of their common country. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte prepared himself therefore to return home to France. But the + Emperor of Germany, full of admiration for the hero of Arcola, and of joy + at a peace which had given him Venice, and which gave to France little + more than the captured cannon, standards, and prisoners, but undying + glory, wished to show himself thankful to Bonaparte. He offered to the + general millions of treasure, and, still more, a magnificent estate, and + promised him the title of duke. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte refused alike the money and the title. As a simple French + general he wished to return to France, and, though in future days he + created at his will many dukes, he now disdained to become a duke by the + grace of the Emperor of Germany. He accepted nothing out of all the + offered presents, but six splendid gray horses which the Emperor Francis + had sent him from his own stalls. Bonaparte had won too many victories, to + need the title of a German duke; he had obtained a sufficiently ample + share of the war-booty not to need the wealth and the treasures of + sovereign gifts. He was no longer the poor general, of whom his enemies + could say that he had married the widow of General de Beauharnais on + account of her riches and of her influence; he now, besides fame, + possessed a few millions of francs, which, as a small portion of his share + of the victory’s rewards, he brought home with him. + </p> + <p> + His work in Italy was accomplished; and in Milan, whither Bonaparte had + returned with Josephine, they bade each other farewell: they wished to + return to Paris by different routes. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte desired first to go to Rastadt, there to attend the great peace + congress of Germany and France. His journey thither was a complete + triumph. He was everywhere received with enthusiasm; everywhere the people + applauded the conqueror of so many battles, the hero who, only + twenty-eight years old, had, by his series of victories, gained + immortality. His reception in Berne, especially, was enthusiastic and + flattering; both sides of his pathway were lined with brilliant equipages, + and the beautiful, richly apparelled ladies who sat in them threw him + kisses, crowns of flowers and bouquets, shouting, “Long live the + peace-maker!” + </p> + <p> + He travelled over Mount Cenis to Rastadt, where he found in the crowd of + German and French diplomats many generals and learned men, who had come + there to see the man whom his very enemies admired, amongst whom he was + nearly as popular as with his friends. However, Bonaparte remained but a + few days there; for, after having attended the opening of the Congress, he + pursued his journey to Paris, where he arrived on the 6th of December. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, as we have already said, did not accompany her husband to + Paris. Before leaving Italy, she desired to accomplish two objects of her + heart. She wished to see Rome, the everlasting city of fame and of arts, + the city of the ancient gods, and of the seat of St. Peter; and she wished + also to embrace her son Eugene, who was there as an attache of Joseph + Bonaparte, the ambassador of the French republic. Wherever she went, she + was received with enthusiasm, not only as the wife of Italy’s deliverer, + but also on account of her personal merits. Through her affability, her + amiableness, and her sweet disposition, which shunned every haughty + exaltation, and yet was never lacking in dignity or in reserve—through + the goodness of her heart, which was ever ready to help the unfortunate—through + all those exquisite and praiseworthy qualities which adorned and + beautified her, she had won the love and admiration of all Italy; and long + afterward, when the deliverer of Italy had become her lord and her + oppressor, when she had no longer cause to love Bonaparte, but only to + curse him, Italy preserved for Josephine a memory full of admiration and + love. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. DAYS OF TRIUMPH. + </h2> + <p> + On the 5th of December, 1797, Bonaparte returned to Paris; and, a few days + after, Josephine arrived also. In her little hotel, in the Street + Chautereine, where she had passed so many bright and happy days, she + hoped, after so many storms and hardships, to enjoy again new and cheerful + sunny days of domestic enjoyments—she hoped to rest from all those + triumphs which had accompanied at each step both her and her husband. + </p> + <p> + This hope, however, was not to be realized, for greater triumphs still + than those she had enjoyed in Italy awaited Bonaparte in Paris. The days + of quietude, and the pleasures of home, which Josephine so much loved, and + which she so well understood how to embellish with friendships and joys, + were now forever past away. Placed at the side of a hero whose fame + already filled all Europe, she could no longer calculate upon living in + modest retirement, as she would have wished to do: it was her lot to share + his burden of glory, as she also was illumined by its beams. + </p> + <p> + From this moment nothing of former days remained; all was changed, all was + altered by Bonaparte’s laurels and victories. He was no more the servant + of the republic, he was nearly its master; he had not only defeated + Austria in Italy, but he had also defeated in France the Directory, which + had sent him as its general to Italy, and which now saw him return home as + the master of the five monarchs of France. + </p> + <p> + Every thing now, as already said, assumed a new shape: even the house in + which they lived, the street in which this house stood, had to be changed. + Hitherto this street had been called “Rue Chautereine;” since Bonaparte’s + return the municipality of Paris gave it the name “Rue de la Victoire,” + and now to this Street of Victory the people of Paris streamed forth to + see the conqueror; to stand there patiently for hours before the little + hotel, and watch for the moment when at one of the windows the pale + countenance of Bonaparte, with his long, smooth hair, might appear. + </p> + <p> + Even the little hotel was to be altered. Bonaparte—who, in earlier + days, had described, as his dream of happiness, the possession of a house, + of a cabriolet, and to have at his table the company of a few friends, + with his Josephine—now found that the little house in the Rue de la + Victoire was too small for him; that it must be altered even as the street + had been. The modest and tasteful arrangements which had sufficed the + Widow Josephine de Beauharnais, appeared now to her young husband as + insufficient; the little saloon, in which at one time he had felt so happy + at the side of the viscountess, was no longer suited to his actual wants. + Large reception-rooms and vestibules were needed, magnificent furniture + was necessary, for the residence of the conqueror of Italy, in the Rue de + la Victoire. + </p> + <p> + Architects were engaged to enlarge and transform the small house into a + large hotel, and it was left to Josephine’s taste to convert the hitherto + elegant private dwelling into a magnificent residence for the renowned + general who had to be daily in readiness to receive official visits, + delegations of welcome from the authorities, and the institutions of + Paris, and from the other cities of France. + </p> + <p> + For France was desirous to pay her homage to the hero of Arcola, and to + celebrate his genius—to wish him prosperity, and to applaud him. The + Directory had to adapt themselves to the universal sentiment; to pay their + respects to the general with a cheerful mien and with friendly alacrity, + while at heart they looked on him with vexation and envy. Bonaparte’s + popularity filled them with anxiety and fearful misgivings. + </p> + <p> + But it was necessary to submit to this; the public sentiment required + those festivities in honor of the general of the republic, and the five + directors in the Luxemburg had no longer the power to guillotine the + public sentiment, the true king of Paris, as once they had guillotined + King Louis. + </p> + <p> + The directors, therefore, inaugurated brilliant festivities; they received + the conqueror of Italy in the Luxemburg with great demonstrations of + solemnity, in which the Parisians took a part. In the immense court in + front of the residence of the directors this celebration took place. In + the midst of the open place a lofty platform was erected; it was the + country’s altar, on which the gigantic statues of Freedom, Equality, and + of Peace, were lifted up. Around this altar was a second platform, with + seats for the five hundred, the deputies, and the authorities; the + standards conquered in the Italian war formed over the seats of the five + directors a sort of canopy: they were, however, to them as the sword of + Damocles, ready to fall upon them at any moment and destroy them. + </p> + <p> + The directors, dressed in brilliant antique robes, created no impression, + notwithstanding their theatrical splendor, in comparison with the + sensation produced by the simple, unaffected appearance of General + Bonaparte. He wore the plain green uniform which he had worn at Arcola and + Lodi; his suite was limited to a few officers only, who, like himself, + appeared in their ordinary uniforms, which they had worn on the + battle-field. The two generals, Andreossy and Joubert, carried the + standards which the Legislative Assembly, two years before, had presented + to the army of Italy, and upon which could now be read the names of + sixty-seven battles won. + </p> + <p> + At one of the windows of the palace of the Luxemburg, Josephine watched + this strange celebration, the splendors of which made her heart beat with + delight, and filled her eyes with tears of joy. Near her was her daughter + Hortense, lately withdrawn from Madame Campan’s institution, to be with + her mother, who, full of ecstasy and pride, gazed at the charming maiden + at her side, just blooming into a young lady; and then beyond, at that + pale young man with pensive eyes standing near yonder altar, and before + whom all the authorities of Paris bowed—who was her husband, her + Bonaparte, everywhere conqueror! Before her only was he the conquered! She + listened with a happy smile to the long speech with which Talleyrand + saluted Bonaparte in the name of his country; she heard how Barras, + concealing within himself his jealousy and his envy, welcomed him; how + with admiration he praised him; how he said that Nature, in one of her + most exalted and greatest moments, had resolved to produce a masterpiece, + and had given to the wondering world Bonaparte! + </p> + <p> + And then, after this affected harangue, Josephine saw how Barras, with + tears of emotion, embraced Bonaparte, and how the other Directors of + France followed his example. A slight sarcastic smile for a moment played + on Josephine’s lips, for she well knew how little this friendship and this + love of the Directory were to be trusted, how little sincerity was + contained in the sentiments which they so publicly manifested toward the + conqueror. + </p> + <p> + With love’s anxiety and a woman’s instinct, she watched over her hero; she + was ever busy to track out the meandering paths of his foes, to destroy + the nets wherein they wished to entangle his feet. She had even braved the + jealous wrath of Bonaparte when it was necessary to ferret out some + intrigue of the Directory. The special spy, whom Barras had sent to Italy + to watch the movements of Bonaparte, and to give him early reports of + every word, Botot, had been received by Josephine with a friendly smile + and with great attention; she manifested toward him a confiding + friendship, and thus succeeded in discovering his secret, and behind the + seeming friend to unveil the cunning spy of Bonaparte’s enemies. She could + therefore meet Bonaparte’s anger with serene brow and pure conscience; and + when he accused her of frivolity and unfaithfulness, she justified herself + before him by unveiling the secret schemes and machinations of his foes. + And these foes were chiefly the five directors. He therefore knew very + well what he was to expect from the embraces, the tears, the kisses of + Barras; and the flattering words which he spoke to him in the presence of + the Parisians made no impression whatever on Bonaparte’s heart. + </p> + <p> + But the applause with which the people of Paris received him was not + deceitful, like that of the Directory; the respect they paid him was not + forced, and their applause therefore filled the hearts of Josephine and + Bonaparte with joy. Wherever he appeared, he was greeted with loud + demonstrations of joy; the poets praised him in their songs, the musicians + sang hymns in his honor, and the men of science brought to him proofs of + their esteem. The Institute of Sciences named him one of their members in + the place of Carnot; the painters and architects paid him homage with + their works. The renowned painter David requested the honor of taking + Bonaparte’s portrait, and the general acceded to his wishes because + Josephine had promised that the painter’s request should be granted. David + desired to paint him on horseback near the bridge of Lodi or of Arcola, + and he placed before him a sketch he had made for this picture. But + Bonaparte rejected it. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he, “I was not there alone, I conquered only with the whole + army. Place me there, quiet and calm, seated upon a fiery horse.” + </p> + <p> + What did Bonaparte mean by this “fiery horse”? Are his words to be + understood in all their beauty and simplicity? or did he, by the restless + horse, which he so calmly reins in, already think of the republic which, + under the guidance of his masterly hand, was one day to be converted into + an empire? Who could read the depths of this man’s heart, which screened + itself so carefully, and whose secrets in regard to the future he dared + not divulge even to his beloved Josephine? + </p> + <p> + The first few weeks after their return from Italy were passed away amid + festivities and demonstrations of respect. Josephine abandoned herself to + this pomp with a high spirit, and with a deep love for enjoyment. Her + whole being was thoroughly interpenetrated with the warmth of this new + sun, which had risen over her in so wondrous a light, and surrounded her + with its lustrous rays. All these festivities, banquets, representations + at the grand opera, and at the Theatre Francais, these public ovations + which accompanied Bonaparte at every step, at every promenade, at every + attendance at the theatre,—all these marks of honor elated + Josephine, filling her with an enthusiastic pride for the hero, the man + whom she now loved with all the excitability of a woman’s heart, and over + whom fame rested as a halo, and which made him appear to Josephine still + greater and more exalted. To him alone now belonged her whole heart and + being; and now for the first time she experienced those nervous spasms of + jealousy which at a later date were to mix so many bitter drops of gall in + the golden cup of her greatness. + </p> + <p> + At the ovations, the tokens of affection on the part of gentlemen + delighted her, but she had no thanks for the ladies when, with their + enthusiasm, brilliant eyes, bewitching smiles, and flattering words, they + endeavored to manifest their adoration and gratitude to the hero of Italy; + she could barely keep back her tears when, at the reception which + Talleyrand, the minister of foreign affairs, gave to Bonaparte, the + beautiful songstress Grassini appeared, and, with her entrancing voice, + sang the fame of the conqueror who had bound captive to his triumphal car, + as the most precious booty, the proud songstress herself. + </p> + <p> + The Directory, however, would have gladly allowed the ladies to take part + in this enthusiasm if the men had taken no share in it; but the admiration + which they had everywhere manifested so strongly for Bonaparte, had + completely overshadowed their own greatness and importance. They were no + longer the monarchs of France—Bonaparte alone seemed to be its ruler—and + their envious jealousy told them that it would require but a sign from his + hand to impart to the French government a new form, to disenthrone the + five directors, and to place himself in their position. The sole aim was, + therefore, to remove Bonaparte as soon as practicable from Paris, and if + possible from France, so as to check his popularity, and to oppose his + ever-growing power. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was but little inclined to meet these views of the Directory, + and to accept the propositions made to him. He declined at once to go to + Rastadt, there to attend to the discussions of the congress, with as much + resolution as he had refused to go to Rome to punish the papal government + for the enmity it had shown to Prance. He left it to diplomats to prattle + in Rastadt over the green-table, and to General Berthier to punish the + papal government, and to drive Pius out of the Eternal City, the seat of + St. Peter, and erect there the altar of the republic of Rome. + </p> + <p> + There were greater and loftier aims which Bonaparte now sought—and + fame, which he loved quite as much as Josephine did, and was soon to love + even more, was enticing him on to paths yet untrodden, where no hero of + past ages had sought for it. + </p> + <p> + In Egypt, near the pyramids of four thousand years, he desired to gather + fresh laurels; from thence the astonished world was to hear the wondrous + recitals of his victories. His lively fancy already imagined his name + written on those gigantic monuments of past ages, the only earthly + creations which have in themselves nearly the character of immortality. + With his mighty deeds he wished to surpass all the heroes of modern times; + he desired to rival Caesar and Alexander. + </p> + <p> + Caesar had won fifty battles, Bonaparte wanted to win a hundred. Alexander + had gone from Macedonia to the temple of Jupiter Ammon, Bonaparte wished + to leave Paris to obtain victories at the cataracts of the Nile. + </p> + <p> + The bitterness which existed between the Directory and Bonaparte was + increasing more and more. He no longer spoke to the five monarchs as an + obedient, submissive son of the republic; he spoke as their lord and + master; he threatened when his will was not obeyed; he was wroth when he + met with opposition. And the Directory had not the courage to reproach him + for his undutiful conduct, or to enter the lists with him to dispute for + the sovereignty, for they well knew that public sentiment would declare + itself in his favor, that Paris would side with the general if matters + were to come to a crisis between them. It was therefore better and wiser + to avoid this strife, and, under some good pretext, remove Bonaparte and + open to him some distant pathway to fame, so as to be rid of him. + </p> + <p> + Egypt was far enough from Paris to give to the Directory guaranties of + security, and it fell in with Bonaparte’s plans. It was resolved therefore + to send an expedition to Egypt, and he was appointed its + commander-in-chief. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had directed his eyes to the East when in Passeriano he was + making peace with Austria. In Egypt were the battle-fields which were to + surround his name with a fresh halo of glory. + </p> + <p> + Josephine learned this resolution of Bonaparte with fear and anxiety, but + she dared not betray this to any one, since this expedition was to remain + a secret to all the world. Only in private could her tears flow, only + before Bonaparte could she complain. Once, as she encircled him + convulsively with her arms, her mind full of misgivings and her eyes of + tears she asked him how many years he thought of remaining in Egypt. + </p> + <p> + She had put this question only in a jesting form. He took it in full + earnestness, and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Either a few months or six years. All depends upon circumstances. I must + win Egypt to civilization. I will gather there artists, learned men, + mechanics of all trades, even women—dancers, songstresses, and + actresses. I want to mould Egypt into a second France. One can do a great + deal in six years. I am now twenty-nine years old, I shall be thirty-five + when I return—that is not old. But I shall want more than six years + if I go to India.” [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. ii., p. 49.] + </p> + <p> + Josephine cried aloud with anguish and horror, and, embracing him in her + arms, implored him with all the delicate tenderness of her anxious + affection not to thrust her aside, but to allow her to accompany him to + Egypt. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte refused, and this time her tears, which he had never before + denied, were fruitless. He felt that Josephine’s presence would damp his + ardent courage, retard his onward march, and that he would not have the + necessary fearless energy to incur risks and perils if Josephine were to + be threatened by their consequences. He could not expose her to the + privations and restless wanderings of a campaign, and his burning love for + her was too real for him to yield to her wishes. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, meanwhile, was not silenced by his refusal; she persevered in + her supplications, and Bonaparte, at last softened by her prayers, was + obliged to come to terms. It was decided that Josephine should follow him + to Egypt, that he would select a place of residence and prepare every + thing for her reception there, so that she might without danger or too + much inconvenience undertake the journey. + </p> + <p> + But before commencing such an undertaking, Josephine’s health needed + recruiting; she was to go to the baths of Plombieres, and Bonaparte was to + hold a ship in readiness in Toulon to bring her to Egypt. + </p> + <p> + The ship which was chosen to transport her was the Pomona, the same in + which, when only sixteen years old, she had come from Martinique to + France. Then she had gone forth to an unknown world and to an unknown + husband; now she was on the same ship to undertake a journey to an unknown + world, but it was a beloved husband whom she was going to meet, and love + gave her the strength to do so. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, full of the sweetest confidence that she was soon to follow + Bonaparte, and hereafter to see him again, accompanied him to Toulon. She + had the strength to repress her tears as she bade him farewell, and to + smile as he entreated her to keep her heart faithful to him. + </p> + <p> + She showed herself at this separation stronger than Bonaparte himself, for + while her eyes were bright with joyous love, his were sad and obscured by + tears. + </p> + <p> + The difference was this: Bonaparte knew that he was bidding farewell to + Josephine for long years; she trusted that in a few months she would be + reunited to him. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte imprinted a last kiss on the lips of Josephine. She embraced him + tenderly in her arms, and, to shield herself against the deep anguish of + the separation, she cried aloud: + </p> + <p> + “In three months we meet again! The Pomona, which brought me to France, + will bear me back to my hero, to my Achilles! In three months I shall be + with you again. You have often called me the star of your fortune. How + could this star abandon you when you are going to fight against your + foes?” + </p> + <p> + He gazed at her with a look at once full of deep love and sorrow: + </p> + <p> + “Josephine,” said he, solemnly, “my enemies are neither in Asia nor in + Africa, but they are all in France. I leave you behind me in their midst, + for you to watch them, and to unravel their schemes. Think of this, and be + my strong and prudent wife.” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s words.—See Le + Normand, vol. i., p. 278.] + </p> + <p> + Deeply moved, he turned away, and hastened from her to the boat that was + to bear him to the flag-ship, which was waiting only for the commanding + general to come aboard before weighing anchor. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III. THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. PLOMBIERES AND HALMAISON. + </h2> + <p> + While Bonaparte with the French fleet was sailing toward the East, there, + in the wide valley of the Nile, to win a new fame, Josephine started for + Plombieres, where she had requested her daughter Hortense to meet her. The + splendid scenery and pleasant quietude of Plombieres offered at least some + comfort and satisfaction to Josephine, whose heart was not yet healed from + the anguish of separation. Her greatest consolation was the thought that + in a few months she would go to her husband; that the Pomona would bear + her to him who now possessed her whole soul, and surrounded her whole + being with an enchantment which was to cease only with her life. + </p> + <p> + She counted the days, the weeks, which separated her from the wished-for + journey; she waited with impatient longing for the news that the Pomona, + which needed a few repairs, was ready and all prepared for the distant but + welcome voyage. + </p> + <p> + Her sole recreation consisted in the company of, and in the cordial + fellowship with Hortense, now grown up a young lady, and the companionship + of a few intimate ladies who had followed her to Plombieres. Surrounded by + these, she either sat in her drawing-room, busy with some manual labor, or + else, followed by a single servant, she and Hortense made long walks in + the wonderfully romantic vicinity of Plombieres. + </p> + <p> + One morning she was in the drawing-room with her friends, working with the + needle, conversing, and finding recreation in stepping through the + wide-open folding-doors upon the balcony, from which a most enchanting + view could be had of the lovely valley, and the mountains which stood + round about it. While there, busily embroidering a rose, one of her + friends, who had gone to the balcony, called her to come quickly to admire + a remarkably small greyhound which was passing down the street. Josephine, + whose love for dogs had made Napoleon pass many a restless hour, hastened + to obey her friend’s call, and went out upon the balcony, whither the rest + of the ladies followed her, all curious to see the greyhound which had set + Madame de Cambis into such an excitement. But the weight of these six + ladies, gathered close together on the balcony, was too heavy for the + plank and joist-work loosely put together. A fearful crash was heard; and + as Hortense, who had remained in the drawing-room, busy with her painting, + looked out, she saw neither the ladies nor the balcony. All had + disappeared—nothing but a cloud of dust arose from the street, + amidst a confusion of cries of distress, of shouts for help, and groans of + pain. + </p> + <p> + The balcony, with the ladies, had been precipitated into the street, and + all those who were on it were more or less severely injured. Josephine + recognized it as a providential protection that she had not paid with + broken limbs, like her friends, for the curiosity of seeing the beautiful + little greyhound, but had only received violent contusions and sprained + joints. For weeks she had to suffer from the consequences of this fall, + and was confined to her bed, not being able to lift herself up, nor with + her bruised, swollen hands to bring the food to her mouth during this + time. Hortense had to wait upon her mother as she had waited upon her when + she was only a small, helpless child. + </p> + <p> + While Josephine was thus for these weeks suffering, the Pomona, fully + equipped, was sent to sea, for she was intrusted with important + instructions for the commanding general Bonaparte, and could not possibly + be detained for Josephine’s recovery. She received this news with bitter + tears, and resolutely declared that no sooner should she be recovered than + she would sail for Egypt in any kind of vessel; that she was firmly + decided to follow her husband and share his dangers. + </p> + <p> + She had, however, twice received letters from Bonaparte. In the first of + these he had, full of tender solicitude, entreated her not to undertake + the fatiguing and dangerous voyage; in the second he had commanded her + with all the earnestness of love to give up the enterprise, and requested + as a proof of her affection and faithfulness, that she would listen to + reason, remain in Paris, and watch over his interests, and be his guardian + angel. + </p> + <p> + Josephine read this last letter with a sorrowful smile, and, as she handed + it to her friend Madame de Chateau-Renaud, she said, sighing: + </p> + <p> + “The days of happiness are over. While in Italy, Bonaparte required that I + should bid defiance to all dangers, so as to be at his side, for his + letters then demanded my presence. Now he orders me to avoid dangers, and + to remain quietly at home.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is out of pure love he does this!” exclaimed her friend. “See how + affectionate and how tender his letter is! Certainly no man can love his + wife more warmly than Bonaparte loves you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” sighed Josephine, “he loves me yet, but I am no longer + absolutely necessary—he can live without me; once love ruled over + his reason, now his reason rules over his love. It will be as I fear: I + shall day by day love him more fondly and more passionately, for he is my + last love, but he will every day love me less, for perhaps I am his first + love, and his heart will be young long after he reads upon my face that I + am six years older than he.” + </p> + <p> + However, she conformed to the wishes of her husband; she was resigned, and + gave up the thought of going to Egypt. At first she did it only with + tears, but soon after there came news which made her accept her husband’s + wishes as the commands of Fate. + </p> + <p> + The Pomona, the vessel which had once brought her from Martinique to + France, and on board of which she was to go to Egypt, had been captured by + an English man-of-war, and all her passengers sent as prisoners to + England. + </p> + <p> + The fall from the balcony had therefore saved Josephine from being carried + into captivity to England. To this fall she owed her liberty! With all the + levity and superstition of a creole, Josephine looked upon this fortunate + mishap as a warning from Fate, and it seemed to her as if this had taken + place to hinder her journey to Egypt. She therefore dried her tears and + submitted to the orders alike of Fate and of her husband. + </p> + <p> + She remained in France, and accepted her mission to watch, as a true + friend and beloved one, over the interests of her husband, to observe his + friends and foes, and to send him news of every thing which it was + important for him to know. + </p> + <p> + Once her fate decided, and she resolved to remain in France, she + determined to make her life comfortable and pleasant; she wished to + prepare for herself and her children a joyous existence, and procure also + for her returning husband a gift which she knew would meet a + long-cherished wish of his. + </p> + <p> + She bought a residence, situated not far from Paris, the Castle Malmaison, + if the name of castle can be properly given to a pretty, tastefully-built + country residence, tolerably large and plain, but surrounded by a + beautiful park. + </p> + <p> + Their wishes and wants were yet simple, and the country residence, + Malmaison, was amply sufficient to receive the family and the friends of + General Bonaparte and his wife; it became too small and too narrow only + when it had to accommodate the Emperor Napoleon, the empress, and their + court-attendants and suite. + </p> + <p> + But if the Castle Malmaison was not large, the park which surrounded it + was all the larger and handsomer, and, with its shady walks, its wondrous + beds of flowers, its majestic avenues, its splendid groves and lawns, it + had for Josephine pleasures and joys ever new and fresh; and it furnished + her, moreover, with the welcome opportunity of following the inclinations + of her youth amidst the flowers, birds, trees, and plants. + </p> + <p> + Josephine loved botany; it was natural that she should endeavor to collect + together in Malmaison the most beautiful plants and flowers, and to + arrange them in this her little earthly paradise. She enlisted the most + able architects and the most skilful gardeners, and, under their + direction, with the hands of hundreds of workmen, there soon arose one of + the most beautiful hot-houses, wherein all these glories of earth, + splendid flowers, and fruits of distant climes, would find a home! + </p> + <p> + Josephine herself, with her fine taste and her deep knowledge of botany, + directed all these arrangements and improvements; the builders as well as + the gardeners had to submit their plans for her approbation, and it was + not seldom that her keen, practised eye discovered in them defects which + her ingenuity at once found means to correct. + </p> + <p> + In Malmaison, Josephine created around her a new world, a quiet paradise + of happiness, where she could dream, with blissful cheerfulness and with + all the youthful energy of her heart, of a peaceful future, of delightful + contentment, in the quiet enjoyment of Nature and of home. + </p> + <p> + But the old world outside did not cease its own march; it fought its + battles, spun its intrigues, and continued its hostilities. Josephine + could not withdraw herself from this old world; she dared not place the + paradise of Malmaison as a wall of partition between her and the wild stir + and tumult of Paris; she had to rush away from the world of innocence, + from this country-life, into the whirlpool of the agitated, restless life + of Paris. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had made it a duty for her to watch his friends as well as his + foes, and there were then happening in Paris events which appeared to the + wife of General Bonaparte worthy of close observation. His long absence + had diminished the number of his friends, and at the same time gave + strength to and increased his enemies, who were ever busy to defame and + vilify his heroic deeds, and to turn them into a crime; they represented + that the expedition to Egypt, notwithstanding the glorious exploits of the + French army, should have had more striking results, and the louder they + cried out, the more feeble and timid were the voices of his friends. The + latter daily found their position becoming more precarious, for they were + the moderate republicans, the supporters of the actual order of things, + and of the constitution which France had adopted. Against this + constitution arose, with loud cries, two hostile parties, which increased + every day, and assumed toward it a more and more threatening attitude. + </p> + <p> + These parties were, on the one hand, the royalists, who saw their hopes + increase every day, because the armies of the European powers, allied + against France, were approaching nearer and nearer the French frontiers; + and, on the other, the republicans of the past, who hoped to re-establish + the old days of the Convention and of the red republic. + </p> + <p> + Both parties tried to undermine society and the existing authorities; they + organized conspiracies, seditions, and tumults, and were constantly + inventing new intrigues, so as to destroy the government, and set + themselves up in its place. + </p> + <p> + The royalists trusted to the combined powers of the princes of Europe, + with whom the exiled Bourbons were approaching; and in La Vendee the + guerilla warfare had already begun against the republic. + </p> + <p> + The red republicans dreamed of re-establishing the guillotine, which was + to restore France to health by delivering her from all the adversaries of + the republic and bring back the glorious days of 1793; they left nothing + untried to excite the people into dissatisfaction and open rebellion. + </p> + <p> + Against both parties stood the Directory, who in these days of tumult and + sedition, were themselves feeble and without energy, seeking only to + prolong their existence. They were satisfied to live on day by day, and + shrank from every decided action which might increase the wrath of the + parties or destroy the brilliant present of the mighty directors, in whose + ears the title of “the five monarchs” sounded so sweetly. + </p> + <p> + In the interior of France, anarchy, with all its horrors and confusion, + prevailed, and, on the frontier, its enemies were taking advantage of this + anarchy to give to the republic its mortal stroke. + </p> + <p> + Turkey, Russia, the Kings of Sardinia, Naples, and Sweden, were allied + with Austria, England, and Prussia, and they had begun to make immense + preparations. A Russian army, led by Suwarrow, was marching toward Italy, + to the help of Austria—to reconquer Lombardy. The Rastadt congress, + from which a universal peace had been expected, had dissolved, and the + only result was an increased enmity between Germany and France, the + deputies of the latter, as they were returning home, being shamefully + murdered in the open street, immediately before the gates of Rastadt, at + the instigation of the Austrian Count Lehrbach. + </p> + <p> + The murder of these ambassadors became the signal for the renewal of war, + which was now to be prosecuted with increased bitterness. + </p> + <p> + At this important, critical moment, when all Europe was buckling on its + armor against France, which so much needed the guidance of her victorious + general—at this moment, Bonaparte was not only away from Paris, but + no news had been received from him for some months. Only a vague rumor was + spread through Paris: “Bonaparte had fallen at the desperate attack on + Acre,” and this sufficed to discourage entirely his friends, and to make + his enemies still more audacious and overbearing. + </p> + <p> + At first Josephine was entirely cast down by the terrible news; but + afterward came the reflection, the doubt, the hope, that all this might be + a rumor spread by his enemies. She hastened to Paris to obtain information + from the Directory, so as to find out if there were any foundation for the + report of Bonaparte’s death. But the Directory had as uncertain news as + Josephine herself, and the absence of information seemed to confirm its + truth. + </p> + <p> + As she came one day to Barras to ask him if there were any news from the + army, she heard him say to Rewbell, one of the five directors: “Here comes + the wife of that hypocrite Bonaparte! If he is not dead to Europe, he is + at least dead to France.” + </p> + <p> + This expression proved to her that Barras himself did not believe in his + death, and gave to Josephine all her energy and presence of mind. She + busied herself in endeavoring to find a clew to this horrible rumor; and + she found that Bonaparte’s enemies had spread it, and that only those to + whom his death would be welcome, and his return be objectionable, had + circulated this report. + </p> + <p> + Her heart again beat with hope; she now felt, in the blissful joy which + penetrated her whole being, that Bonaparte was not dead; that he lived + still; that he would return home, to her great delight and to the terror + of his foes. A cheerful assurance sustained her whole nature. While all + those, who in the days of her happiness had rivalled each other in + assuring her of their friendship and devotedness, the Directory, the + ministers, the majority of the generals, turned away from her, cold and + indifferent; and her few true friends, low-spirited and depressed, bowed + their heads, while her foes and those of Bonaparte scornfully said in + their joy, “Now the new King of Jerusalem and Cyprus has fallen under the + blows of a new savage Omar.” While every thing was against her, Josephine + alone was cheerful, and confidingly looked into the future, for she felt + and knew that the future would soon bring back her husband, her beloved. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. THE FIRST FAITHLESSNESS. + </h2> + <p> + Josephines prophetic heart had not deceived her. Bonaparte lived! But his + was a life of danger, of constantly renewed battles and hardships—a + life in which he had constantly to guard against not only enemies, but + also against sickness. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had traversed the deserts with his army, visited the pyramids, + conquered Cairo, and, in warmly-contested and fearful combats, had + defeated and subdued the Mussulman. But these numerous victories had been + followed by some defeats, and all his successes were more than + counterbalanced by the fruitless storming of the impregnable Acre, and the + failure to conquer Syria. The English admiral, Sidney Smith, with his + vessels, anchored in the harbor of Acre, protected the besieged, and + constantly provided them with provisions and ammunition, and so + efficiently supported the pacha and his mercenary European soldiers, that + Bonaparte, after two months of fruitless efforts, abandoned the siege on + the 10th of May, 1799, and retreated into Egypt. + </p> + <p> + This is not, however, the place to recall the stupendous enterprises of + Bonaparte, which remind one of the deeds of the heroes and demi-gods of + ancient Greece, or the nursery tales of extraordinary beings. + </p> + <p> + His heroic deeds are engraven on history’s page: there can be read the + wondrous events of his Egyptian campaign, of his march through the + wilderness, of the capture of Cairo, of his successful battles of Aboukir + and Tabor, which led the heroic General Kleber, forgetting all rivalry, to + embrace Bonaparte, exclaiming: “General Bonaparte, you are as great as the + world, but the world is too small for you!” + </p> + <p> + There, also, one can read of the cruel massacre of three thousand captive + Mussulmen, of the revolt of Cairo; there are depicted the blood-stained + laurels which Bonaparte won in this expedition, the original plan of which + seems to have been conceived in the brain of one who was at once a + demi-god and an adventurer. + </p> + <p> + We leave, therefore, to history the exclusive privilege of narrating + Bonaparte’s career as a warrior; our task is with something superior—with + his thoughts, feelings, and sufferings, in the days of his Egyptian + campaign. It is not with the soldier, the captain, or his plans of battle, + that we have to do, but with the man, and especially with the husband of + Josephine—the woman who for his sake suffered, was full of + solicitude, contended for him, and struggled with love and loyalty, while + he fought only with sword and cannon. + </p> + <p> + It is true, Bonaparte also had to suffer, and his anxieties for the + success of his plans did not alone hang heavily on his heart, while with + his army he besieged the impregnable Acre. At this very time his heart + received a deep wound from his friend and confidant Junot, who drove the + sting of jealousy into his sensitive heart. It is the privilege of + friendship to pass by in silence nothing which calumny or ill-will may + imagine or circulate, but truly to make known to our friend every thing + which the public says of him, without regard to the sufferings which such + communications may entail upon his heart. Junot made full use of this + privilege. Bourrienne in his memoirs relates as follows: + </p> + <p> + “While we were in the vicinity of the springs of Messoudiah, I saw one day + Bonaparte, with his friend Junot, pacing to and fro, as he often did. I + was not very far from them, and I know not why during this conversation my + eyes were fixed on him. The face of the general was paler than usual, + though I knew not the cause. There was a strange nervousness; his eyes + seemed bewildered, and he often struck his head with his hand. + </p> + <p> + “After a quarter of an hour, he left Junot and came toward me. I had + noticed his angry, thoughtful expression. I went to meet him, and as I + stood before him, Bonaparte, with a harsh and severe tone, exclaimed: ‘You + have no affection for me. The women! ... Josephine! ... Had you any + affection for me, you would long ago have given me the information which + Junot has now told me: he is a true friend! Josephine! ... and I am six + hundred miles away! ... You ought to have told me! ... Josephine! ... so + to deceive me! ... You! ... “Woe to you all! I will uproot that detestable + race of seducers and blondins! As regards her—separation!—yes: + divorce, public separation before the eyes of all! ... I must write! I + know every thing! ... It is her fault, Bourrienne! You ought to have told + me.’ + </p> + <p> + “These vehement, broken utterances, the strange expression on his face, + and his excited tone of voice, revealed only too clearly what had been the + subject of the conversation he had had with Junot. I saw that Junot had + been drawn into a fatal indiscretion, and that if he had really believed + that charges could be made against Madame Bonaparte, he had exaggerated + them in an unpardonable manner. My situation was one of extreme delicacy: + I had, however, the good fortune to remain cool, and as soon as his first + excitement had subsided, I began to tell him that I knew nothing about + what Junot had told him; that if even such rumors, which often were + circulated only by slander, had reached me, and if I had thought it my + duty to communicate them to him, I should certainly not have chosen the + moment when he was six hundred miles away from France to do so. I did not + hesitate to tell him how blameworthy Junot’s conduct appeared to me, and + how ungenerous it was to accuse a woman thoughtlessly, when she was not + present to justify or to defend herself; I told him that it was no proof + of affection for Junot to add domestic troubles to the grave anxieties + which already overburdened him. Notwithstanding my observations, to which, + however, he listened with composure, the word ‘separation’ fell often from + his lips, and one must understand to what a pitch the excitement of his + feelings could carry him, to be able to imagine how Bonaparte appeared + during this painful scene. I did not, however, give up the point; I came + back to what I had said. I reminded him with what carelessness men + received and circulated such reckless stories, suited only to the idle + curiosity of gossips, and unworthy the attention of strong minds. I spoke + to him of his fame: ‘My fame?’ cried he, ‘ah, I know not what I would give + if what Junot has told me is not true—so much do I love this woman + ... if Josephine is guilty, I must be divorced from her forever. ... I + will not be the ridicule of the idle babblers of Paris! I must write to + Joseph to procure this separation.’ + </p> + <p> + “Though he was still much excited, yet he was somewhat more quiet. I took + advantage of a moment’s pause to combat this idea of separation which + seemed to overrule him. I called his attention to the unreasonableness it + would be, on such vague and probably false rumors, to write to his + brother. ‘If you send a letter,’ said I, ‘it will bear the impress of the + excitement which has dictated it; as regards a separation, it will be + time, after mature consideration, to speak of it.’ + </p> + <p> + “These last words made an impression on him which I had not expected so + soon to see; he became perfectly calm, and listened to me as if he felt + the need of receiving words of encouragement, and after this conversation + he never again alluded to the subject. Fourteen days after, before Acre, + he manifested to me the most violent displeasure against Junot, complained + of the sufferings which such indiscreet revelations had caused him, and + which he now considered as purely an invention of malice. I afterward + noticed that he did not forgive Junot this stupidity. It is easy to + understand why Josephine, when she learned from Napoleon this conduct of + Junot, never could feel for him a very warm interest, or intercede in his + favor.” [Footnote: Bourrienne, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 212.] + </p> + <p> + It will be seen that the very sensitive heart of Bonaparte had again been + kindled into jealousy, as it so often had happened before in Italy. + Absence—a momentary separation—was enough to enkindle these + flames. We have seen in the letters which Bonaparte wrote to Josephine + during the Italian campaign, how her silence—the least delay in her + answering his letters—was enough for him to incriminate her, on + account of his jealous affections; how, because she does not constantly + write, he threatens to rush in some night unexpectedly, and with the rage + of jealousy force the doors open, and murder “the young lover of eighteen, + and curse Josephine because he must love her without bounds.” + </p> + <p> + Now he swears to root out this detestable race of seducers and blondins + who have beguiled from him the heart of his Josephine. Full of passion and + jealousy, he believes in the calumnies which Junot, with all the cruel + inconsiderateness of a trusty friend, has whispered to him, and at once + Josephine is guilty! She has had a love-correspondence with Charles Botot, + the blond private secretary of Barras, for Charles Botot comes sometimes + to Malmaison, and has often been seen near Josephine and her daughter + Hortense in her loge! But by degrees comes reflection, and a fortnight + after he believes that malice alone can have invented these calumnies. + This noble conviction, however, was soon to be shaken by the enemy, for + Josephine had enemies quite near Bonaparte, who longed to draw away from + her a husband’s heart and to drive him into a divorce. + </p> + <p> + First of all there were the whole family of Bonaparte, who had seen with + unwillingness Napoleon’s marriage, for he was thereby much less under + their influence, and they had wished that he would at all events have + married Desiree Clary, the sister of Joseph’s wife, and thus have been + more closely united to the family. + </p> + <p> + But, while he was in Egypt, another powerful enemy had been added to + these. This was a young and beautiful woman, Madame Foures, the beloved of + the ardent general. + </p> + <p> + While Bonaparte, with all the madness of jealousy at a mere groundless + calumny, which had come across the sea distorted and magnified, wished to + be divorced from Josephine; while he complained of woman’s faithlessness, + frivolity, and inconstancy; while he cursed all women as coquettes, he + himself was guilty of faithlessness. Forgetting his vows and his + protestations of love for his wife, he had abandoned himself to a new + affection without any regard to public opinion, and even made no secret of + his intrigues. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunate Josephine! The fears she had anticipated and dreaded before + accepting Bonaparte’s proffered hand were too soon to be realized. His + heart began to grow cold while her love increased every day with deeper + intensity; he had perchance already read in her amiable countenance the + first signs of age, and he thought it might well be allowed to the young + general not to maintain so strict a fealty to that faithfulness which he + claimed from her. + </p> + <p> + But Bonaparte still loved Josephine, although he was unfaithful to her. + Surely this new love might well bear the guilt of the credulousness with + which he judged Josephine, and the word of separation might thus easily + come upon his lips, because the newly-loved one, amid the vows of her + affection, might have whispered it in his ear. + </p> + <p> + Madame Foures had an immense advantage over Josephine; she was barely + twenty years old, was bewitchingly beautiful, was a coquette, and—she + was there in Bonaparte’s immediate presence, while the Mediterranean + separated him from Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte abandoned himself to this new love with all his passionate + nature. Not only did the whole army in Egypt know this, but his foes also + became acquainted with it; and Sir Sidney Smith made use of this fact to + attack his enemy in a way little known to the annals of warfare. Bonaparte + had removed from the Egyptian army Madame Foures’ injured husband, who + held there the rank of a cavalry officer, by sending him with a message to + the Directory. But the vessel in which he had sailed for France was + captured by the English, and Admiral Sidney Smith undertook, with all the + careless, open manner of an Englishman, to make him fully acquainted with + the relations existing between his wife and General Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + He then gave to M. Foures, who was beside himself with anger and wrath, + and who threatened bloody vengeance, his freedom, and exhibited his + good-will toward him so far as to have him landed near Cairo, where + Bonaparte then was with his beautiful mistress. + </p> + <p> + Enraged with jealousy, M. Foures rushed to his wife, to make to her the + most violent demonstrations. Perhaps too weak to part with an adored, + beautiful wife, he simply ordered her to return with him to France. + </p> + <p> + But Madame Foures made resistance. She called her mighty lover to her + help; she claimed a separation; and the war-commissioner Duprat, who in + the army was invested with the functions of a civil magistrate, + pronounced, at the request of Madame Foures and at the order of Bonaparte, + the decree of separation. + </p> + <p> + Madame Foures was free, but this did not satisfy the secret wishes of her + heart. The most important point was, that Bonaparte should be free also, + that he also should desire to be divorced. Josephine must be removed from + him and thrust aside, so that the beautiful Pauline Foures might take her + place. + </p> + <p> + No means, either of coquetry, tears, flatteries, or promises of enduring + love, remained untried to induce Bonaparte to take the decisive step. + Sometimes Pauline would pout; sometimes her eyes shed the tears of + repentance over her own faithlessness, and she vowed she would take refuge + in a cloister if Bonaparte would not restore her to honor by exalting her + to the position of being his wife; sometimes she sought by her cheerful + humor, her genial abandonment, to bind him to her, to amuse him; and + sometimes, when dressed as a general, on a fiery horse, and surrounded by + a vast number of adjutants, she would ride up to him and win by her smiles + and flatteries friends, who calumniated Josephine, and represented to him + the necessity of a separation from his inconstant wife. + </p> + <p> + But, notwithstanding all the calumnies, and all the deceiving arts of his + beloved, there existed in Bonaparte’s heart something which spoke in favor + of the poor, slandered, and forgotten Josephine; and, amid the exciting + pleasures of his new passion, he remembered with longing, sorrowful heart + the charming, gracious woman whom he once had tenderly loved, and whom he + still so loved that he could not sacrifice her to his beautiful mistress. + Still he persevered in showing to the latter the deepest, most tender, and + undivided attention; and when the chances of war kept him away from her + for a long time, when he went to Syria and left her in Cairo, Bonaparte + wrote to her every day the most touching letters, which were forwarded by + a special courier. + </p> + <p> + This was occurring at the same time that Josephine in Paris was hoping in + vain with painful longing for letters from her husband, and was watching + over his interests with the kindest attention, while his enemies were + spreading news of his death. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had now no time to write to his wife, for the beautiful Pauline + Foures laid claim to the little leisure which remained to the commanding + general, and to her he addressed warm and glowing words of love, such as + while in Italy he had addressed to Josephine when he swore to her never to + love another woman. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Fate rendered fruitless all the efforts of the beautiful Madame + Foures to draw Bonaparte into a separation; Fate came to Josephine’s + rescue, and, strange to say, it came in the shape of the Frankfort + Journal. + </p> + <p> + The victorious battle of Aboukir, which Bonaparte, on the 25th of July, + 1799, had with his army won over the enemy, gave occasion to parleying + negotiations between the French commander-in-chief and the English + admiral, Sidney Smith. Bonaparte sent a commissioner on board the English + flag-ship, and Sir Sidney Smith was cunning enough to send through this + commissioner to the French general a few newspapers recently received from + Europe. For ten months the French army and Bonaparte were without news + from France, and this present of the English admiral was received by + Bonaparte and his generals with the deepest joy and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Among these papers was a copy of the Journal de Frankfort of the 10th of + June, 1799. This was the first newspaper which furnished Bonaparte with + news from France for ten long months, and the natural consequence was that + he glanced over it with the most inquisitive impatience. Suddenly he + uttered a cry; the pallor of death overspread his face, and, fixing his + flaming eyes on Bourrienne, who at this moment was alone with him—“My + presentiments have not deceived me,” exclaimed Bonaparte. “Italy is lost! + The wretched creatures! All the results of our victories have vanished! I + must go to France at once—this very moment!” [Footnote: Bourrienne, + “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 305.] + </p> + <p> + This newspaper informed Bonaparte of the late events in France. It told + him that the French Directory had experienced a change, that only one of + them, Barras, had remained in it, and that four new directors—Sieyes, + Grohier, Moulins, and Ducos—were now its members. It told him much + more—that the French army in Italy had suffered the most disastrous + reverses; that all Italy had been reconquered by the combined armies of + Russia and Austria under Suwarrow and the Archduke Charles, who were now + advancing upon France, which was on every side surrounded by the + revengeful enemies of the republic. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had Bonaparte read this news than his decision was taken. + Berthier was called into his tent, and under the seal of silence Bonaparte + communicated to him his unwavering resolution of going immediately to + France, but that this was to remain a secret to his whole army as well as + all the generals. Berthier, Gautheaume, Eugene Beauharnais, Monge, and + Bourrienne, were alone to accompany him, but the last two were not to be + made acquainted with their departure for Europe before they had left Cairo + with Bonaparte. As he noticed gleams of joy in Berthier’s face at the news + of returning to France, Bonaparte once more impressed upon him the duty of + preserving silence and not to betray the secret by word or deed, and to do + nothing which might induce friends or acquaintances to believe that a + voyage was contemplated. The secret was indeed faithfully kept, and the + few confidants intrusted with it took great care to divulge nothing, for + fear he might punish them by leaving them in Egypt. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte himself maintained the most absolute secrecy; neither his + beloved, the beautiful Pauline Foures, nor General Kleber, whom he had + chosen to be his successor in the chief command of the army of Egypt, + suspected any thing. + </p> + <p> + To his beloved, Bonaparte said he was leaving Cairo for the sake of making + a tour through the Delta, and that in a few weeks he would be with her + again. The news he had received from Europe had suddenly cooled the glow + of his passion, and, at the thought of returning to France, rose up again + before his mind the image of Josephine in all her grace and loveliness. + For a long time, while she was not at his side, he had been unfaithful to + her, but he did not wish, for his own sake, to add scandal to + faithlessness. He did not wish to bring to France with him, as sole booty + from Egypt, a mistress. + </p> + <p> + Pauline Foures, therefore, suspected as little of his plans as General + Kleber. It was only after Bonaparte, with his small suite of five + confidants and the Mameluke Roustan, had embarked at Alexandria, that + Pauline learned that he had deserted—that he had abandoned her. In a + short note which his master of the stall, Vigogne, handed to her, + Bonaparte took leave of her, and made her a present of every thing he left + behind in Cairo, including the house he occupied, with all its costly and + luxurious furniture. [Footnote: The departure of Bonaparte made Madame + Foures comfortless, and she now watched for an opportunity to hasten back + to him in France. Touched by her tears and prayers, Junot furnished her + with an opportunity, and Pauline reached Paris in November, 1799. But + Bonaparte would no longer see her; he now sacrificed the mistress to the + wife, as he had nearly sacrificed the wife to the mistress. Pauline + received orders to leave Paris immediately; at the same time Bonaparte + sent her a large sum of money, which he afterward repeated.—See + Saint Elsne, “Les Amours et Galanteries des Rois de France,” vol. ii., p. + 320.] + </p> + <p> + General Kleber learned Bonaparte’s departure, only through the orders sent + to him by the latter to assume the chief command of the army; his troops + learned his absence by the order of the day, in which Bonaparte bade them + farewell. + </p> + <p> + After four weeks of a long voyage against tempestuous and contrary winds, + the two frigates, upon one of which Bonaparte and Eugene and his other + followers had embarked, touched at Ajaccio. The whole population had no + sooner learned that Bonaparte was in the harbor, than they rushed out to + see him, and to salute him with enthusiastic demonstrations; and it was in + vain that their attention was drawn to the fact that both frigates had + come directly from Egypt, and had to observe quarantine before any + communication with the population could be allowed. + </p> + <p> + “Pestilence sooner than the Austrians!” shouted the people, and hundreds + and hundreds of boats surrounded the French vessels. Every one wanted to + see the general, their famous countryman, Bonaparte. But Bonaparte’s heart + was sorrowful amid the general rejoicing, for in Ajaccio he had learned of + the great battle of Novi, where the Austrians had gained the victory, and + which had cost General Joubert’s life. + </p> + <p> + “It is too great an evil,” said he, with a sigh; “there is no help for + it.” But as he gave up Italy, all his thoughts were more strongly bent + upon Paris, and his desire to be there as soon as possible increased more + and more. + </p> + <p> + After a short stay in Ajaccio, the voyage to France, despite all + quarantine regulations, was continued, and the star of fortune, which had + hitherto protected him, still guided Bonaparte safely into the harbor of + Frejus, though the English fleet had watched and pursued the French + vessels. A courier was at once dispatched to the Directory in Paris to + announce the arrival of Bonaparte, and that he would, without any delay, + come to Paris. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was at a dinner at Gohier’s, one of the five directors, when + this courier arrived, and with a shout of joy she received the news of her + husband’s coming. Her longing was such that she could not wait for him in + Paris, in her house of the Rue de la Victoire. She resolved to meet him, + and to be the first to bid him welcome, and to show him her unutterable + love. + </p> + <p> + No sooner was this resolution taken than it was carried out. She began her + journey with the expectation of meeting her husband at Lyons, for in his + letter to the Directory he stated that he would come by way of Lyons. In + great haste, without rest or delay, Josephine travelled the road to that + city, her heart beating, her luminous eyes gazing onward, looking with + inexpressible expectancy at every approaching carriage, for it might bring + her the husband so long absent from her! + </p> + <p> + She little suspected that while she was hastening toward Lyons, Bonaparte + had already arrived in Paris. He had changed the plan of his journey, and, + entirely controlled by his impatient desires, he had driven to Paris by + the shortest route. Josephine was not there to receive him in her house; + she was not there to welcome the returning one—and the old serpent + of jealousy and mistrust awoke again within him. To add to this, his + brothers and sisters had seized the occasion to give vent to their + ill-will by suspicions and accusations against their unwelcome + sister-in-law. Bonaparte, full of sad apprehension at her absence, perhaps + secretly wishing to find her guilty, listened to the whisperings of her + enemies. + </p> + <p> + He therefore did not go to meet Josephine the next day on her return from + her unsuccessful journey. A few hours after, he opened his closed doors + and went to see her. She advanced toward him with looks full of love and + tenderness, and opened her arms to him, and wanted to press him closely to + her heart. + </p> + <p> + But he coldly held her back, and with deliberate severity and an + expression of the highest indifference, he saluted her, and asked if she + had returned happy and satisfied from her pleasure excursion with her + light-haired friend. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s tears gushed forth, and, as if annihilated, she sank down, but + she had not a word of defence or of justification against the cruel + accusation. Her heart had been too deeply wounded, her love too much + insulted, to allow her to defend herself. Her tearful eyes only responded + to Bonaparte’s cruel question, and then in silence she retired to her + apartments. + </p> + <p> + For three days they did not see each other. Josephine remained in her + rooms and wept. Bonaparte remained in his rooms and complained. To + Bourrienne, who then was not only his private secretary but also his + confidant, he complained bitterly of the faithlessness and inconstancy of + Josephine, of the unheard-of indifference that she should undertake a + pleasure-journey when she knew that he was soon to be in Paris. It was in + vain that Bourrienne assured him that Josephine had undertaken no + pleasure-excursion, that she had left Paris only to meet him, and to be + the first to bid him welcome. He would not believe him, for in the + melancholy gloominess of his jealousy he believed in the slanders which + Josephine’s enemies, and his brothers and sisters, had whispered in his + ear, that Josephine had left Paris for a parti de plaisir with Charles + Botot, the beautiful blondin whom Bonaparte so deeply hated. How profound + his sadness was, may be seen by a letter which at this time he wrote to + his brother Joseph, and in which he says: + </p> + <p> + “I have a great deal of domestic sorrow ... your friendship to me is very + dear; to become a misanthrope, there was nothing further needed than to + lose her and to be betrayed by you. It is a sad situation indeed to have + in one single heart all these emotions for the same person. + </p> + <p> + “I will purchase a country residence either near Paris or in Burgundy; I + am thinking of passing the winter there and of shutting myself up; I feel + weary with human nature; I need solitude; I want to be alone; grandeur + oppresses me, my feelings are distorted. Fame appears insipid at my + twenty-nine years; I have tried every thing; nothing remains but to become + an egotist.” [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph.” vol. i., p. 189.] + </p> + <p> + But, according to himself, “he cherished in his heart, at the same time; + all manner of emotions for the same person;” that is, he hated and + detested Josephine, but he also loved and admired her; was angry with her, + and yet longed for her; he found her frivolous and faithless, and yet + something in his heart ever spoke in her favor, and assured him that she + was a noble and faithful being. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, there was one who confirmed into full conviction these low + whisperings of his heart; fortunately, Bourrienne ceased not to argue + against this jealousy of Bonaparte, and to assure him again and again that + Josephine was innocent, that she had committed nothing to excite his + anger. + </p> + <p> + Finally, after three days of complaints and dreary accusations, love + conquered in the heart of Bonaparte. He went to Josephine. She advanced to + meet him with tears in her eyes, but with a soft, tender smile. The sight + of her gracious appearance, her blanched cheeks, moved him, and, instead + of explanations and mutual recriminations, he opened his arms to her, and + she threw herself on his breast with a loud cry of exultation. + </p> + <p> + Then came the explanations. He now believed that she had left Paris + hurriedly for the sake of meeting him; and, as regarded the dangerous + “blond,” the private secretary of Barras, M. Charles Botot, Josephine + smilingly handed to her husband a letter she had received from him a few + days before. In this letter Charles Botot acknowledged his long-cherished + affection for her daughter Hortense, and he claimed her hand in due form. + </p> + <p> + “And you have doubtless accepted his offer?” asked Bonaparte, his face + overcast again. “Since, unfortunately, you are married yourself, and he + cannot be your husband, then of course he must marry the daughter, so as + to be always near the mother. M. Charles Botot is no doubt to be your + son-in-law? You have accepted his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she, softly, “we have refused it, for Hortense does not love + him, and she will follow her mother’s example, and marry only through + love. Besides,” continued Josephine, with a sweet smile, “I wanted him no + longer.” + </p> + <p> + “You wanted him no longer! How is this?” asked General Bonaparte, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Barras has sent him his dismissal,” said she, looking at her husband with + an expression of cunning roguery. “M. Botot could no longer, as he has + hitherto been—without, however, being conscious of it—be my + spy in the Directory; I could no longer learn from him what the Directory + were undertaking against my Bonaparte, against the hero whom they envy and + caluminate so much, nor in what new snares they wished to entangle him! + What had I to do with Botot, since he could not furnish me news of the + intrigues of your enemies, nor afford me the chance of counteracting them? + Charles Botot was nothing more to me than a mere lemon, which I squeezed + for your sake; when there was nothing left in it I threw it away.” + </p> + <p> + “And is such the truth?” asked Bonaparte, eagerly. “This is no invention + to raise my hopes, only to be cast down again?” + </p> + <p> + Josephine smiled. “I have daily taken notes of what Charles Botot brought + me,” said she, gently; “I always hoped to find a safe opportunity to send + this diary to you in Egypt, that you might be informed of what the + Directory thought, and what was the public opinion, so that you might take + your measures accordingly. But, for the last eight months, I knew not + where you were, and so I have kept my diary: here it is.” + </p> + <p> + She gave the diary to Bonaparte, who, with impatient looks, ran over the + pages, and was fully convinced of her devotedness and care. Josephine had + well served his interests, and closely watched over his affairs. Then, + ashamed and repentant, he looked at her, who, in return, smiled at him + with gracious complacency. + </p> + <p> + “Josephine,” asked he, quietly, “can you forgive me? I have been foolish, + but I swear to you that never again will I mistrust you, I will believe no + one but you. Can you forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + She embraced him in her arms, and tenderly said: “Love me, Bonaparte; I + well deserve it!” + </p> + <p> + Peace, therefore, was re-established, and Josephine’s enemies had the + bitter disappointment to see that their efforts had all been in vain; that + again the most perfect unanimity and affection existed between them; that + the cloud which their enmity had conjured up, had brought forth but a few + tear-drops, a few thunderings; and that the love which Bonaparte carried + in his heart for Josephine was not scattered into atoms. + </p> + <p> + The cloud had passed away; the sun of happiness had reappeared; but it had + yet some spots which were never to fade away. The word “separation” which + Bonaparte, so often in Egypt, and now in Paris, had launched against + Josephine, was to be henceforth the sword of Damocles, ever suspended over + her head: like a dark, shadowy spectre it was to follow her everywhere; + even amid scenes of happiness, joy, and glory, it was to be there to + terrify her by its sinister presence, and by its gloomy warnings of the + past! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. THE EIGHTEENTH BRUMAIRE. + </h2> + <p> + Bonaparte’s journey from Frejus to Paris, on his return from Egypt, had + been a continued triumph. All France had applauded him. Everywhere he had + been welcomed as a deliverer and savior; everywhere he had been hailed as + the hope of the future, as the man from whom was to be expected assistance + in distress, the restoration of peace, help, and salvation. + </p> + <p> + For France was alarmed; she stood on the edge of a precipice, from which + only the strong hand of a hero could save her. In the interior, anarchy + prevailed amongst the authorities as well as the people. In La Vendee + civil war raged, with all its sanguinary horrors, and the authorities + endeavored to protect themselves against it by tyrannical laws, by + despotic measures, which threatened both property and freedom. There + existed no security either for person or for property, and a horrible, + fanatical party-spirit penetrated all classes of society. The royalists + had been defeated on the 18th Fructidor, but that very fact had again + given the vantage-ground to the most decided opponents of the royalists, + the red republicans, the terrorists of the past, who now intrigued and + formed plots and counterplots, even as the royalists had done. They sought + to create enmity and bitterness amongst the people, and hoped to + re-establish on the ruins of the present administration the days of terror + and of the guillotine. + </p> + <p> + These red republicans, ever ready for the struggle, organized themselves + into clubs and “constitutional circles,” where the ruin of the actual + state of things, and the severe and bloody republic of Robespierre, formed + the substance of their harangues; and their numbers were constantly + increased by new members being sworn in. + </p> + <p> + The ballot in May, 1799, had been in favor of the Directory, and + unfavorable to the moderate party, for only fanatical republicans had been + elected to the Council of Five Hundred. + </p> + <p> + Against these factions and republican clubs the Directory had to make a + perpetual war: but their power and means failed to give them the victory + in the strife. It was a constant oscillation and vacillation, a constant + compromising and capitulating with all parties—and the natural + consequence was, that these parties, as soon as they had secured the ear + of the Directory, and gained an advantage, strove hard to obtain the + ruling authority. Corruption and mistrust universally prevailed. Every + thing had the appearance of dissolution and disorder. Highwaymen rendered + the roads unsafe; and the authorities, instead of carrying out the + severity of the law, were so corrupt and avaricious as to sell their + silence and indulgence. The upright citizen sighed under the weight of + tyrannical laws from which the thief and the seditious knew how to escape. + </p> + <p> + The nation, reduced to despair by this arbitrary rule and corruption, + longed for some one to deliver it from this dreadful state of dissolution; + and the enthusiasm which was manifested at the return of General + Bonaparte, was a confession that in him the people foresaw and recognized + a deliverer. Exhausted and wearied, France sought for a man who would + restore to her peace again—who would crush the foes within, and + drive away the enemy from without. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte appeared to the people with all the prestige of his former and + recent victories; he had planted the victorious French tricolor upon the + summit of the capitol, and of the pyramids; he had given to France the + most acceptable of presents, “glory;” he had adorned her brow with so many + laurels, that he himself seemed to the people as if radiant with glory. + All felt the need of a hero, of a dictator, to put an end to the + prevailing anarchy and disturbances, and they knew that Bonaparte was the + only one who could achieve this gigantic work. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte understood but too well these applauding and welcoming voices of + the people, and his own breast responded favorably to them. The secret + thoughts of his heart were now to be turned into deeds, and the ambitious + dreams of his earlier days were to become realities. All that he had + hitherto wanted was a bridge to throw over the abyss which separated the + republicans, the defenders of liberty, equality, and fraternity, from + rule, power, and dictatorship. Anarchy and exhaustion laid down this + bridge, and on the 18th Brumaire, General Bonaparte, the hero of “liberal + ideas,” passed over it to exalt himself into dictator, consul, emperor, + and tyrant of France. + </p> + <p> + But the Directory also understood the voices of the applauding people; + they also saw in him the man who had come to deprive them of power and to + assume their authority. This was secretly yet violently discussed by the + Directory, the Council of the Elders, and of the Five Hundred. + </p> + <p> + One day, at a dinner given to a few friends by the Abbe Sieyes, one of the + members of the Directory, the abbe, Cabanis, and Joseph Bonaparte, were + conversing together, standing on the side of the drawing-room, near the + chimney. It was conceded that undoubtedly a crisis was near at hand, that + the republic had now reached its limit, and that, instead of five + directors, only three would be elected, and that, without any doubt, + Bonaparte would be one of the three. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” cried Sieyes, with animation, “I am for General Bonaparte, for of + all military men he is the most civil; but then I know very well what is + in reserve for me: once elected, the general, casting aside his two + colleagues, will do as I do now.” And Sieyes, standing between Canabis and + Joseph, placed his two arms on their shoulders, then, pushing them with a + powerful jerk, he leaped forward and bounded into the middle of the room, + to the great astonishment of his guests, who knew not the cause of this + gymnastic performance of the abbe. [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” + vol. i., p. 77.] + </p> + <p> + The other directors were also conscious of this movement of Bonaparte, and + they secretly resolved to save themselves by causing his ruin. Either the + Directory or Bonaparte had to fall! One had to perish, that the other + might have the power! In order that the Directory might exist, Bonaparte + must fall. + </p> + <p> + The Directory had secretly come to this conclusion on Bonaparte’s return. + They were fully aware that a daring act alone could save them, and they + were determined not to shrink from it. + </p> + <p> + The deed was to take place on the 2d Brumaire. On that day he was to be + arrested, and accused of having premeditated a coup d’etat against the + Directory. Indeed, one M. de Mounier had come to Director Gohier and had + denounced Bonaparte, whom he positively knew was conspiring to destroy the + existing government. Gohier received these accusations with much gravity, + and sent at once for the other directors to hasten to him, but only one, + Moulins, was then in Paris to answer Gohier’s summons. He came, and after + a long conference both directors agreed that the next day they would have + Bonaparte arrested on his return to Paris from Malmaison, where they knew + he was to give a large banquet that day. They sent for the chief of + police, and quietly gave him the order to station himself the next day + with twelve resolute men on the road to Malmaison, and to arrest Bonaparte + as he should drive that evening toward Paris. + </p> + <p> + On this very day Josephine, who did not wish to be present at the banquet + of gentlemen in Malmaison, had come to Paris to attend a party at the + house of one of her friends. The conversation went on; they talked and + jested, when a gentleman near Josephine told a friend that some striking + event would probably take place that day in Paris, for he had just now met + a friend who held an important office in the police. He had invited him to + go to the theatre, but he declined, stating that he was to be on duty this + evening, as some important affair was about being transacted—the + arrest, as he thought, of some influential personage. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s heart trembled with horrible misgivings at these words. Love’s + instinct convinced her that her husband was the one to be arrested, and + she thought within herself that it was Destiny itself which sent her this + intelligence, that she might save her husband from the fearful blow which + awaited him. Thus persuaded, she gathered all her strength and presence of + mind, and determined to act with energy, and battle against the enemies of + her husband. Without betraying the slightest emotion, or exciting any + suspicion that she had heard or noticed what was said, Josephine rose from + her seat with a cheerful and composed countenance, and pleasantly took + leave of the lady of the house. But once past the threshold of the house, + once in her carriage, her anxious nature woke up again, and she began to + act with energy and resolution. She pulled the string, to give her + directions to the driver. As fast as the horses could speed, he was to + drive his mistress to Colonel Perrin, the commanding officer of the guards + of the Directory. In ten minutes she was there, and knowing well how + devoted a guard he and all his soldiers would be to Bonaparte, she + communicated to him her fears, and requested from him immediate and speedy + assistance to remove the danger. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Perrin was prepared to enter into her plans, and he promised to + send to Malmaison a company of grenadiers, provided she would, as soon as + possible, have General Murat send him an order to that effect. Josephine + at once went to one of her true, reliable friends, who belonged to the + Council of the Elders, and, making him acquainted with the danger which + threatened her husband, requested him to gather a few devoted friends, and + to attend to the orders which Murat would send them. + </p> + <p> + After having made all these preparations, Josephine drove in full gallop + toward Malmaison. + </p> + <p> + The dinner, to which Bonaparte had invited gentlemen from all classes of + society, was just over, and the guests were scattered, some in the + drawing-rooms, and some in the garden, where Bonaparte was walking up and + down in animated conversation with the secretary, Roger Ducos. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the carriage of Josephine drove into the yard; and Murat, + who, with a few gentlemen, stood under the porch, hastened to offer his + hand so as to help Josephine to alight. An eye-witness who was present at + this scene relates as follows: + </p> + <p> + “‘Where is the general?’ asked Josephine, hastily, of General Murat. + </p> + <p> + “‘I do not know,’ was the answer; ‘he is gone with Roger, but Lucien is + here.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Look at once for the general!’ exclaimed Josephine, breathless, ‘I must + speak to him immediately.’ + </p> + <p> + “I approached her and said that he was in the garden. She ran—she + flew! I placed myself at a window in the first story, from which I could + easily see into the garden-walks. My expectations had not deceived me. + </p> + <p> + “No sooner did Bonaparte see Josephine approach, than he left Roger Ducos + and hurried to meet her. Both then walked into a path near by. I could see + them well. Josephine spoke with animation; the general walked on; now and + then she held him back. At last they took the path leading to the castle. + I went down to meet them on the steps near the door. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Bonaparte held her husband by the left hand. Her animated, + expressive features had a bewitching pride and softness; it was a most + delightful admixture of tenderness and heroism. Bonaparte looked around, + pale and grave, but his eyes ever rested with pleasure on his wife. She + refused to enter into the large hall, and retired to her room. Bonaparte + called for Roger, and entered the saloon with him. His guests were + awaiting his arrival, to take their leave. The carriages drove up, and the + gentlemen left Malmaison to return to Paris. Only Lucien and Murat + remained with Bonaparte; Madame Bonaparte joined them as they entered the + vestibule. When she saw Murat, she exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “‘How, general, you still here!—Do you not consider,’ continued she, + turning to Bonaparte, ‘that Murat ought to be already in Paris with + Perrin?—Away! quick! to horse, to the Rue Varennes, or I drive + thither myself.’ + </p> + <p> + “Murat laughed; but four minutes after he was riding at a gallop on the + road to the city. The three others returned to their rooms. I was curious + to know what was the conversation; but as I had nothing more to do in the + castle, I was about leaping on my horse to ride to Paris, when I saw a + detachment of infantry marching toward the castle. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it my duty to announce them to the general; he sat between his + wife and his brother. ‘How!’ cried he, as he rose up hastily. ‘Troops?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘What of them?’ answered Madame Bonaparte, smiling. ‘Your company has + left you, now comes mine. It is a rendezvous; but be comforted—they + are not too many.’ + </p> + <p> + “All three walked into the yard, where the troops were placing themselves + in line without the sound of a drum. + </p> + <p> + “‘You are an extraordinary man, sir,’ said Madame Bonaparte to the + captain. ‘Nearly as soon as I?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame,’ replied the officer, ‘we have been ready for the march these + four hours.’ + </p> + <p> + “The officers followed the general into the drawing-room, and refreshments + were distributed to the soldiers; it was a company of grenadiers. + </p> + <p> + “At nine o’clock in the evening, a courier arrived, bearing dispatches to + Bonaparte. At once he, his wife, and his brother, drove to Paris. The + grenadiers were ordered to follow immediately and in silence.” [Footnote: + “Memoires secretes,” vol. i., p. 26.] + </p> + <p> + These dispatches, which Bonaparte had received from Paris, brought him the + news that this time the danger was over—that the directors had + abandoned their plan. Some fortunate accident may have warned them, even + as Josephine herself had been warned. The spies who everywhere tracked + Josephine, as well as Bonaparte, had carried to Gohier intelligence of all + the strange movements of the wife of Bonaparte, and the director at once + perceived that she was informed of the danger which threatened her + husband, and that she was bent upon preventing it. + </p> + <p> + But now that the plan of the directors had been unveiled, danger + threatened them in their turn, and they immediately adopted measures to + face this new peril. In place of Bonaparte, they must find some one whom + they could arrest, without withdrawing their orders. They found a + substitute in a wealthy merchant from Hamburg, who now resided in Paris. + Gohier had him arrested, and accused him of having had relations with the + enemies of France. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte assumed the appearance of having no doubts as to the sincerity + of Gohier, of suspecting nothing as to his own arrest, which had been + prevented by the timely and energetic action of Josephine. He thanked her + with increased tenderness for her love and faithfulness, and as he pressed + her affectionately to his breast, he swore to her that he would never + again doubt her; that he would, by the most unreserved confidence, share + with her his schemes and designs, and that henceforth he would look upon + her as the good angel who watched over the pathway of his life. + </p> + <p> + And Bonaparte kept his word. From this day his Josephine was not only his + wife, but his confidante, his friend, who knew all his plans, and who + could assist him with her advice and her exquisite practical tact. She it + was who brought about a reconciliation with Moreau and Bernadotte; and by + her amiable nature, attractive and dignified manner, and great social + talents, she bound even his friends closer to Bonaparte; or with a smile, + a kind word, some flattering observation, or some of those little + attentions which often-times tell more effectually with those who receive + them than great services, she would often win over to him his foes and + opponents. + </p> + <p> + “It is known but to few persons,” says the author of the “Memoires + secretes,” “that Bonaparte always consulted his wife in civil matters, + even when they were of the highest importance. This fact is entirely true, + but Bonaparte would have been extremely mortified had he known that those + around him suspected it. Had it been possible for me to divide my being, + with what delight I should have followed this noble woman! I would relate + a few traits of hers if I did not know that M. D. B., who is much better + acquainted with her than I, is to write a biography. [Footnote: The + “Memoires secretes” appeared in 1815. The biography spoken of by the + author is probably that of Madame Ducrest, and which appeared in 1818.] I + know not what were the events of the first years of Madame de Beauharnais, + but if they were like those of her last fifteen years, we should have the + history of a perfect woman. She has known but little of me, and therefore + no interested motive guides my pen, no other sentiment than that of + truth.” [Footnote: “Memoires secretes,” vol. i., p. 36.] + </p> + <p> + The 2d Brumaire afforded sufficient reasons for Bonaparte to put into + execution his resolutions. He now knew the enmity of the Directory; he + knew he must cause their downfall if he himself did not wish to be + destroyed by them. He knew that, during his last triumphal journey through + France, he had heard sufficient to convince him that the voice of the + people was for him, that every one longed for a change, that France was + heartily wearied of revolutionary commotions, and above all things craved + for rest and peace; that it wished to lay aside all political strife, and, + like him, preferred to have nothing more to do with a republican majority. + </p> + <p> + “Every one desires a more central government,” said Napoleon to his + brother Joseph. “Our dreams of a republic are the illusions of youth. + Since the 9th Thermidor the republican party has dwindled away more and + more; the efforts of the Bourbons and the foreigners, coupled with the + memories of ‘93, have called forth against the republican system an + imposing majority. If it had not been for the 13th Vendemiaire and the + 18th Fructidor, this majority would long ago have won the ascendency; the + weaknesses, the imperiousness of the Directory, have done the rest. To-day + the people are turning their hopes toward me, to-morrow it will be toward + some one else.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte did not wish to wait until to-morrow. He had made all his + preparations; he had made sure of his generals and officers; he knew also + that the soldiers were for him, and that it required but a signal from him + to bring about the catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + He gave the signal by inviting on the 18th Brumaire, to a dejeuner in his + house, all his confidants and friends, all the generals and superior + officers, and also the commanding general of the National Guards. Nearly + all of them came at this invitation; only General Bernadotte kept aloof, + as he perceived that the breakfast had other objects than to converse and + to eat. Sieyes and Ducos were the only directors who made their + appearance; Gohier, that morning, had sent to Bonaparte an invitation to + dinner, so as to deceive the more securely him whom he knew was his enemy; + Barras and Moulins, suspecting Bonaparte’s schemes, remained in the + background, silently awaiting the result. + </p> + <p> + While the guests were assembling in Bonaparte’s house, and filling all the + space in it, a friend and confidant of Bonaparte, in the Council of the + Elders, made the following motion: “In consideration of the intense + political excitement which prevails in Paris, it is necessary to remove + the sessions to St. Cloud, and to give to General Bonaparte the supreme + command of the troops.” + </p> + <p> + After a violent debate, the motion was suddenly adopted; and, when it was + brought to Bonaparte, he saw that the moment for action had come. + </p> + <p> + He told all those about him that at last the time was at hand to restore + to France rest and peace, that he was decided to do this, and he called + upon them to follow him. Every one was ready, and, surrounded by a + brilliant suite, Bonaparte went first to the Council of the Elders, to + express his thanks for his nomination, and solemnly to swear that he would + adopt every measure necessary to save the country. + </p> + <p> + Immediately after this he went to the Tuileries to hold a review of the + troops stationed there. The soldiers and the people, who had streamed + thither in masses to see him, received him with loud acclamations, + assuring him of their loyalty and devotedness. + </p> + <p> + No one this day rose in favor of the deputies, no one seemed to desire + that their sittings should as heretofore take place in Paris, nor to think + that force would have to be used to remove them. + </p> + <p> + The palace of Luxemburg, in which their sittings had hitherto taken place, + and St. Cloud, in which they were to meet in the future, were both, by + orders of Bonaparte, surrounded with troops, and the deputies as well as + the Council of the Elders adjourned that very day to St. Cloud. + </p> + <p> + Moulins and Gohier alone had the courage to offer opposition, and, in a + letter to the Council of the Elders, to describe Bonaparte as a criminal, + who threatened the republic, and to demand of them his arrest; and also + that they should immediately decree that the republic was in danger, and + that it must be defended with all energy. But this letter fell into + Bonaparte’s hands; and the directors, when they saw that their request was + unheeded, resigned, as Barras had done. + </p> + <p> + The republic now had but two legitimate rulers, Sieyes and Ducos; and at + their side stood Bonaparte, soon to exalt himself above them. + </p> + <p> + The following day, the 19th Brumaire, was actually the decisive day. The + Five Hundred, who now, like the Council of the Elders, held their + deliberations in St. Cloud, were discussing under great excitement the + abdication of the Directory and the necessity of a new election. The + debates were so vehement and so full of passion that the president, Lucien + Bonaparte, could not command order. A wild uproar arose, and at this + moment Napoleon entered the hall. Every one rushed at him with wild + frenzy; and the most violent recriminations were launched at him. “He is a + traitor!” they cried out. “He is a Cromwell, who wants to seize the + sovereign power!” What Bonaparte had never experienced on the + battle-field, in the thickest of the fight, he now felt. He became + bewildered by this violent strife of words, by this hailstorm of + accusations which whizzed around his ears. He tried to speak; he tried to + address the audience, but he could not—he could merely give + utterance to a few broken sentences; he made charges against the + Directory, with assurances of his own loyalty and devotedness, which the + audience received with loud murmurs, and then with wild shouts. Bonaparte + became more embarrassed and bewildered. Suddenly turning toward the door + of the hall, he exclaimed, “Who loves me, let him follow me!” and he + walked out hastily. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers outside received him with great cheers, and this brought back + Bonaparte’s presence of mind. “General,” whispered Augereau, as they + mounted their horses, “you are in a critical position.” + </p> + <p> + “Think of Arcola,” replied Bonaparte, calmly. “There the position seemed + still more critical. Have patience for half an hour, and you will see how + things change.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte made good use of this half hour. At its expiration he re-entered + the hall of deliberation of the Five Hundred, surrounded by his officers, + at the very moment when, on a motion of a member, they were renewing their + oaths to the constitution. Again they received him with shouts: “Down with + the tyrant!—down with the dictator! The sanctity of the law is + violated! Death to the tyrant who brings soldiers here to do us violence!” + </p> + <p> + One of the deputies rushed upon Bonaparte and seized him, but at that + instant the grenadiers also entered the room, delivered their general, and + carried him in triumph out of the hall. + </p> + <p> + After his departure, the waves of wrath and political frenzy rose higher + and higher. Shouts and imprecations filled the room with confusion; + reproaches fell on all sides upon the president, Lucien Bonaparte, for not + having immediately ordered the arrest of the traitor, who by his + appearance, as well as by his armed escort, had insulted the assembly. + When Lucien endeavored to defend Napoleon’s conduct, he was interrupted by + the cries: “He is a stain on the republic! He has tarnished his + reputation!” Louder and wilder rose the cry to declare Napoleon an outlaw. + [Footnote: “Memoires du Roi Joseph.”] + </p> + <p> + Lucien refused, and, as they urged their demand with increasing violence, + he left the presidential chair, and with deep emotion put off the insignia + of his office—his mantle and his sash—and was at the point of + making for himself an outlet through the wild crowd pressing in frenzy + around him, when the doors opened, and a company of grenadiers rushed in, + who by main force carried him away out of the hall. + </p> + <p> + Lucien, whom Napoleon awaited outside with his troops, immediately mounted + his horse, and in this moment of deepest danger kept his presence of mind, + being fully aware that he must now be decided to save himself and his + brother or perish with him. He turned to the troops, and ordered them to + protect the president of the Five Hundred, to defend the constitution + attacked by a few fanatics, and to obey General Bonaparte, who was + empowered by the Council of the Elders to arrest the seditious, and to + protect the republic and its laws. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers answered him with the acclamation, “Long live Bonaparte!” But + a certain shudder was visible. A few warning voices were lifted up; they + thought it strange that weapons should be directed against the + representatives of the country. + </p> + <p> + By a dramatic action Lucien brought the matter to a close, though it was + at the time meant by him in all sincerity. He drew his sword, and, + directing its point toward Napoleon’s breast, he exclaimed: “I swear to + pierce even my brother’s heart if he ever dares touch the liberty of + France!” + </p> + <p> + These words had an electric effect; every one felt inspired, lifted up, + and swore to obey Bonaparte, and to remain loyal to him even unto death. + At a sign from Napoleon, Murat, with his grenadiers, dashed into the hall + and drove away the assembly of the Five Hundred. At ten o’clock that + evening St. Cloud was vacant; only a few deputies, like homeless + night-birds, wandered around the palace out of which they had been so + violently ejected. + </p> + <p> + In the interior of St. Cloud, Bonaparte was busy preparing for the people + of Paris a proclamation, in which he justified his deed, and repeated the + sacred assurance “that he would protect liberty and the republic against + all her enemies at home as well as abroad.” When this was done, it was + necessary to think of giving to the French people a new government, + instead of the one which had been broken up. Napoleon had been in + conference until the dawn of day with Talleyrand, Roderer, and Sieyes. + Meanwhile Lucien had gathered around him in a room the members of the Five + Hundred who were devoted to him, and had resumed the presidential chair; + Napoleon’s friends among the members of the Council of the Elders also + gathered together, and both assemblies issued a decree, in which they + declared there was no longer a Directory, and in which they excluded from + the assembly as rebellious and factious a vast number of deputies. And + more, they decreed the nomination of a provisional commission, and decided + that it should consist of three members, who should bear the title of + Consuls of the Republic, and they appointed as consuls Sieyes, Ducos, and + Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + At three o’clock in the morning every thing was ready, and Napoleon, + accompanied by Bourrienne, went to Paris. He had reached his goal; he was + at the head of the administration, but his countenance betrayed no joyous + excitement; he was taciturn and pensive, and during the whole journey to + Paris he spoke not a word, but quietly leaned in a corner of the carriage. + Perhaps he dreamed of a great and brilliant future; perhaps he was busy + with the thought how he could ascend higher on this ladder to a throne, + whose first step he had now ascended, since he had exalted himself into a + consul of the republic. + </p> + <p> + Not till he arrived at his residence in the Rue de la Victoire did + Bonaparte’s cheerfulness return, when, with countenance beaming with joy, + and followed by Bourrienne, he hastened to Josephine, who, exhausted by + anxiety and care during this day full of danger, had finally gone to rest. + Near her bed Bonaparte sank into an arm-chair, and, gazing at her and + seizing her hand, he turned smilingly to Bourrienne: + </p> + <p> + “Is it not true,” said he—“I said many foolish things?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, general, that cannot be denied,” replied Bourrienne, shrugging + his shoulders, while Josephine broke out into loud, joyous laughter. + </p> + <p> + “I would sooner speak to soldiers than to lawyers,” said Bonaparte, + cheerfully. “These honorable fools made me timid. I am not accustomed to + speak to an audience—but that will come in time.” + </p> + <p> + With affectionate sympathy Josephine requested him to relate in detail all + the events of the day; and she listened with breathless attention to the + descriptions which Bonaparte made in his own terse, brief, and lucid + manner. + </p> + <p> + “And Gohier?” said she, at last—“you know I love his wife, and when + you were in Egypt he was ever kind and attentive to me. You will not touch + him, will you, mon ami?” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. “What of it, my love?” said he; “it is + not my fault if he is pushed aside. Why has he not wished it otherwise? He + is a good-natured man, but a blockhead. He does not understand me.... I + would do much better to have him transported. He wrote against me to the + Council of the Elders, but his letter fell into my hands, and the council + has heard nothing of it. The unfortunate man!... Yesterday he expected me + to dinner.... And that is called statesmanship.... Let us speak no more of + this matter.” [Footnote: Bonaparte’s own words.—See Bourrienne, vol. + iii., p. 106.] + </p> + <p> + Then he began to relate to his Josephine how Bernadotte had acted, + refusing to take any part in the events of the day, and how, when + Bonaparte had requested him at least to undertake nothing against him, he + answered: “As a citizen, I will keep quiet; but if the Directory gives me + the order to act, I will fight against every disturber of the peace and + every conspirator, whoever he may be.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte then suddenly turned to Bourrienne to dismiss him, that he might + himself take some rest; and when he extended his hand to bid him farewell, + he added, carelessly: + </p> + <p> + “Apropos, to-morrow we sleep in the Luxemburg.” It was decided!—the + long-premeditated deed was done! With the 18th Brumaire, Bonaparte had + made an important step forward on the path of fame and power whose end was + seen by him alone. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was no longer a general receiving orders from a superior + authority; he was no longer the servant of the Directory; but he was now + the one who would give orders—he was the master and ruler; he stood + at the head of the French nation; he made the laws, and his deep, clear + eye looked far beyond both consuls who stood at his side, into that future + when he alone would be at the head of France; when, instead of the + uprooted throne of the lilies, he would sit in the Tuileries, in the chair + of the First Consul, this chair of a Caesar, which could so easily become + an emperor’s throne! + </p> + <p> + On the 20th Brumaire, Napoleon occupied the residence of the Directory in + the palace of the Luxemburg, after he had, through his brother Louis, made + Gohier prisoner, the only one of the directors who still lingered there, + and whom he afterward released. Josephine’s intercession procured the + liberty of the husband of her friend, and this generous pardon of the + furious letter which Gohier had written against him was the thank-offering + which Bonaparte presented to the gods as he made his entrance into the + Luxemburg. + </p> + <p> + The Luxemburg itself was, however, but a relay for a change of horses in + the wondrous journey which Bonaparte had to travel from the lawyer’s house + on the island of Corsica to the throne-room of the Bourbons in the palace + of the Tuileries. + </p> + <p> + In simple equipage, he with Josephine made his entrance into the + Luxemburg, but after the rest of a few weeks he left this station, to make + his entrance into the Tuileries in a magnificent carriage, drawn by the + six splendid grays which the Emperor of Austria had presented to General + Bonaparte in Campo Formio. For already another change had taken place in + the government of France, and the trefoil-leaf of the consuls had assumed + another form. + </p> + <p> + The two consuls, who had stood at the side of Bonaparte, invested with + equal powers, had been set aside by the new constitution of the year + VIII., which the people had adopted on the 17th of February, 1800 (18th + Pluviose, year VIII.). This constitution named Bonaparte as consul for ten + years, and with him two other consuls, who were more his secretaries than + his colleagues. Next to him was Cambaceres, as second consul for ten + years, and then Lebrun, as third consul for five years. + </p> + <p> + With these two consuls, Bonaparte, on the 19th of February, 1800, made his + solemn entry into the Tuileries. The old century, with its Bourbon throne, + its bloody revolution, its horrors, its party passions, had passed away, + and the new century found in the Tuileries a hero who wanted to crush all + parties with a hand of iron, and to place his foot on the head of the + revolution, so as to close the abyss which it had opened, in order to + build himself an emperor’s throne over it. + </p> + <p> + He was for the present satisfied to hear himself called “First Consul;” he + was willing for a short time to grant to the two men who sat at his side + in the carriage drawn by the six imperial grays, that they should share + the power with him, and should consider themselves vested with the same + authority. But Cambaceres and Lebrun had a keen ear for the joyful shouts + with which the people followed their triumphal march from the Luxemburg to + the Tuileries. They knew very well that these shouts and acclamations were + not addressed to them, but only to General Bonaparte, the conqueror of + Lodi and Arcola, the hero of the pyramids, the “savior of society,” who, + on the 18th Brumaire, had rescued France from the terrorists. Both consuls + were shrewd enough to draw a lesson from this enthusiasm of the people, + and willingly to fall back into the shade rather than to be forced into + it. The Tuileries had been appointed for the residence of the three + consuls, but the next day after their triumphal entry Cambaceres left the + royal palace to take up his abode in the Hotel Elboeuf, on the Place de + Carrousel. Lebrun, who at first made the Flora Pavilion his headquarters, + soon found it more advisable to take his lodgings elsewhere, and he left + the Tuileries, to make his residence in the Faubourg St. Honore. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TUILERIES. + </h2> + <p> + The Tuileries had again found a master; the halls where Marie Antoinette + received her joyous guests, her beautiful lady-friends, were now again + alive with elegant female figures, and resounded with gay voices, cheerful + laughter, and unaffected pleasantry. The apartments in which Louis XVI. + had passed such sad and fearful days, where he had laid with his ministers + such nefarious schemes, and where royalty had been trodden down under the + feet of the infuriated populace—these rooms were now occupied by the + hero who had subdued the people, slain the revolution and restored to + France peace and glory. + </p> + <p> + The Tuileries had again found a master—the throne-room was still + vacant and empty, for the first consul of the republic dared not yet lay + claim to this throne which the revolution had destroyed, and which the + republic had forever removed from France. But if there was no throne in + the Tuileries, there was at least a court; and “Madame Etiquette,” driven + away from the royal palace since the days of the unfortunate Marie + Antoinette, had again, though with modest and timid step, slipped into the + Tuileries. It is true, she now clandestinely occupied a servant’s room; + but the day was not far distant when, as Egeria, she would whisper advice + and dictate laws to the ear of the new Numa Pompilius; when all doors + would be open to her, and when she alone would, at all times, have access + to the mighty lord of France. + </p> + <p> + In the Luxemburg, the fraternity and the equality of the revolution had + been set aside, as, long before, on the 13th Vendemiaire, the liberty of + the revolution had been cast away. In the Luxemburg the “citoyenne” + Bonaparte had become “Madame” Bonaparte, and the young daughter of the + citizeness Josephine heard herself called “Mademoiselle” Hortense! + </p> + <p> + After the entrance into the Tuileries, fraternity and equality disappeared + rapidly, and the distinctions of gentlemen and servants, rulers and + subjects, superiors and subordinates, were again introduced. The chief of + the administration was surrounded with honors and distinctions; the court, + with all its grades, degrees, and titles, was there; it had its courtiers, + flatterers, and defamers; and also its brilliant festivities, splendors, + and pomp! + </p> + <p> + It is true this was not the work of a moment, nor so rapid an achievement + as the transition from the Luxemburg to the Tuileries, but the + introduction of the words “madame” and “monsieur” removed the first + obstacle which held the whole French nation bound to the same platform; + and a second obstacle had fallen, when permission was granted to all the + emigres, with the exception of the royal family, to return to their native + country. + </p> + <p> + The aristocrats of old France returned in vast numbers; they, the bearers + of old names of glory, the legitimists, who had fled before the + guillotine, now hoped to win again the throne from the consulate. + </p> + <p> + They kept themselves, however, aloof from the consul, whose greatness and + power were derived from the revolution, and who was to them a + representative of the rebellious, criminal republic; but they presented + themselves to his wife, they brought their homage to Josephine, the born + aristocrat, the relative and friend of so many emigrant families, and they + hoped, through her influence, to obtain what they dared not ask from the + first consul—the re-establishment of the throne of the Bourbons. + </p> + <p> + These aristocrats knew very well that Josephine longed for the return of + the royal family; that in her heart she cherished love and loyalty to the + unfortunate royal couple; and that, without any personal ambition, without + any desire for fame, but with the devotedness of a royalist, and the + affection of a noble, sensitive woman, she sighed for the time when + Bonaparte would again restore to the heir of Louis XVI. the throne of the + lilies, and recall to France the Count de Lille, to replace him as king on + his brother’s throne. + </p> + <p> + In fact, Josephine had faith in this fairy-tale of her royal heart; she + believed in those dreams with which her tender conscience lulled her to + repose, whenever she reproached herself, that she, the subject, now walked + and gave orders as mistress in this palace of royalty! “Why, indeed, could + she not believe in the realization of those dreams, since Bonaparte + himself seemed to cherish no further wishes than to rest on his laurels, + and to enjoy, in delightful privacy, the peace he had given to France? + </p> + <p> + “I am looked upon as ambitious,” said Bonaparte one day, in the + confidential evening conversations with his friends in Josephine’s + drawing-rooms, “I am looked upon as ambitious, and why? Listen, my + friends, to what I am going to tell you, and which you may repeat to all. + In three years I shall retire from public life; I shall then have about + fifty thousand livres income, and that is sufficient for my mode of + living. I will get a country residence, since Josephine loves a country + life. One thing only I need, and this I claim—I want to be the + justice of the peace for my circuit. Now, say, am I ambitious?” + </p> + <p> + Every one laughed at the strange conceit of Bonaparte, who wished to + exchange his present course for the position of a justice of the peace, + and Bonaparte chimed in heartily with the laughter. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine believed those words of Bonaparte, and their echoes had + perchance penetrated even to Russia, to the ears of the pretender to the + French throne, the Count de Lille, and to the ears of the Count d’Artois, + his brother, and they both therefore based their hopes on Josephine’s + winning her husband to the cause of the Bourbons. + </p> + <p> + Both sent their secret emissaries to Paris, to enter into some compact + with Josephine, and to prepare their pathway to the throne, after having + failed to negotiate directly with Bonaparte, who had repelled all their + efforts, and with haughty pride had answered the autograph letter of the + Count de Lille. + </p> + <p> + The Count d’Artois, enlightened by the fruitless efforts of his brother, + resorted to another scheme. He sent a female emissary to Paris—not + to Bonaparte, but to Josephine. Napoleon himself speaks of it, in his + Memorial of St. Helena, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “The Count d’Artois made his advances in a more eloquent and refined + manner. He sent to Paris the Duchess de Guiche, a charming woman, who by + the elegance of her manners and by her personal attractions was well + calculated to bring to a favorable result the object of her mission. She + easily obtained an introduction to Madame Bonaparte, who was acquainted + with all the persons of the old court. The beautiful duchess was therefore + invited to a dejeuner at Malmaison; and during breakfast, when the + conversation ran upon London, the emigrants, and the princes, Madame de + Guiche stated that a few days before she had called upon the Count + d’Artois. They had spoken of current events, of the future of France, of + the royal family, and one of the confidants had asked the prince what + would be the reward of the first consul if he re-established the Bourbons! + The prince answered: ‘First of all he would be created connetable, with + all the privileges attached to that rank, if that were agreeable to him. + But that would not be enough; we would erect to him on the Place de + Carrousel a tall and costly column, and on it we would raise the statue of + Bonaparte crowning the Bourbons.’ A short time after the dejeuner the + consul entered, and Josephine had nothing more pressing to do than to + relate to him all these details. ‘And have you inquired,’ asked her + husband, ‘whether this column would have for a pedestal the corpse of the + first consul?’ The beautiful duchess was still present, and with her + winning ways she was well calculated to carry her point. ‘I shall ever be + happy,’ said she, ‘and grateful for the kindness of Madame Bonaparte in + having granted me the opportunity of gazing upon and listening to a great + man—a hero.’ But it was all in vain; the Duchess de Guiche the same + night received orders to depart immediately; and the beauty of this + emissary appeared to Josephine too dangerous for her urgently to intercede + in her behalf. Early next morning Madame de Guiche was on her way to the + frontier.” [Footnote: “Memorial de Ste. Helene,” vol. i., p. 34.] + </p> + <p> + The Count de Lille chose for his mediator a very devoted servant, the most + skilful of all his agents, the Marquis de Clermont Gallerande. He also was + kindly received by Josephine, and he found access to her ear. With intense + sympathy, and tears in her eyes, she bade him tell her the sad wanderings + of that unfortunate man, “his majesty the King of France,” and who as a + fugitive was barely tolerated, roaming from court to court, a protege of + the good-will of foreign potentates. Drawn away by her generous heart, and + by her unswerving loyalty to the faith of her childhood, she spoke + enthusiastically of the young royal couple who once had ruled in the + Tuileries; and she went so far as to express the hope that Bonaparte would + again make good what the revolution had destroyed, and that he would + restore to the King of France his lost throne. + </p> + <p> + The Marquis de Clermont, to prove to her what confidence he reposed in + her, and what consideration the King of France entertained for the first + consul and his adored wife, communicated to her a letter from the Count de + Lille to him, which was in itself a masterpiece, well calculated to move + the heart of Josephine. + </p> + <p> + The Count de Lille portrayed in this letter first the dangers which would + threaten Bonaparte if he should allow himself to be drawn into the + inconsiderate and criminal step of placing the crown of France on his own + head, and then continued: + </p> + <p> + “Sitting upon a volcano, Bonaparte would sooner or later be destroyed by + it if he hastens not in due time to close the crater. Sitting upon the + first step of the throne restored by his own hand, he would be the object + of a monarch’s gratitude; he would receive from France the highest + regards, the more pure since they would be the result of his + administration and of public esteem. No one can convince him of these + truths better than she whose fortune is bound up with his, who can be + happy only in his happiness and honored only in his reputation. I consider + it a great point gained if you can come into some relation with her. I + know her sentiments from days of old. The Count de Vermeuil, ex-governor + of the Antilles, whose judgment as you know is most excellent, has told me + more than once that in Martinique he had often noticed how her fealty to + the crown deepened nearly to distraction; and the protection which she + grants to my faithful subjects who appeal to her, entitles her justly to + the name you give her, ‘an angel of goodness.’ Let my sentiments be known + to Madame Bonaparte. You will not surprise her, but I flatter myself that + her soul will rejoice to know them.” [Footnote: Thibaudeau, “Histoire de + la France, et de Napoleon Bonaparte,” vol. ii., p. 202.] + </p> + <p> + The Count de Lille was not deceived. Josephine’s heart was filled with joy + at this confidence of the “King of France;” she was pleased that the + Marquis de Clermont had fulfilled his wishes, and that he should with this + letter have sent her a present. She read it with a countenance full of + enthusiasm, and with a tremulous voice, to her daughter Hortense, whom she + had educated to be as good a royalist as herself; and both mother and + daughter besieged, with earnest petitions, with tears and prayers, and + every expression of love, the first consul to realize the hopes of the + Count de Lille, and to recall the exiled prince to his kingdom. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte usually replied to all these requests with a silent smile; + sometimes also, when they were too violent and pressing, he repelled them + with unwilling vehemence. + </p> + <p> + “These women belong entirely to the devil!” said he, in his anger to + Bourrienne, “they are mad for royalty. The Faubourg St. Germain has turned + their heads, they are made the protecting genii of the royalists; but they + do not trouble me, and I am not displeased with them.” + </p> + <p> + Bourrienne ventured to warn Josephine, and to call her attention to this, + that she might not so strongly plead before Bonaparte for the Count de + Lille, but Josephine answered him with a sad smile: “I wish I could + persuade him to call back the king, lest he himself may have the idea of + becoming such; for the fear that he may do this always awakens in me a + foreboding of evil, which I cannot banish from my mind.” [Footnote: + Bourrienne, vol. iv., p. 108.] + </p> + <p> + But until the king was really recalled by the first consul, Josephine had + to be pleased to assume the place of queen in the Tuileries, and to accept + the homage which France and soon all Europe brought to her. For now that + the republic was firmly established, and had made peace with the foreign + powers, they sent their ambassadors to the republic, and were received in + the name of France by the first consul and his wife. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed an important and significant moment when Josephine for the + first time in her apartments received the ambassadors of the foreign + powers. It is true no one called this “to give audience;” no one spoke yet + in genuine courtier’s style of “great levee” or “little levee;” the + appellation of “madame” was yet in use, and there was no court-marshal, no + maids of honor, no chamberlains of the palace. But the substance was the + same, and, instead of the high court-marshal, it was Talleyrand, the + secretary for foreign affairs, who introduced to Josephine the + ambassadors, and who called their names. + </p> + <p> + This introduction of the ambassadors was the first grand ceremony which, + since the revolution, had taken place in the Tuileries. With exquisite + tact, Josephine had carefully avoided at this festivity any pomp, any + luxury of toilet. In a plain white muslin dress, her beautiful brown hair + bound up in a string of white pearls, and holding Talleyrand’s hand, she + entered the great reception hall, in which the foreign ambassadors, the + generals, and the high dignitaries of the republic were gathered. She came + without pretension or ostentation, but at her appearance a murmur of + admiration ran through the company, and brought on her cheeks the timid + blush of a young maiden. With the assurance of an accomplished lady of the + world she received the salutations of the ambassadors, knew how to speak + to each a gracious word, how to entertain them, not with those worn-out, + stereotyped phrases customary at royal presentations, but in an + interesting, intellectual manner, which at once opened the way to an + exciting, witty, and unaffected conversation. + </p> + <p> + Every one was enchanted with her, and from this day not only the French + aristocracy, but all distinguished foreigners who came to Paris, were + anxious to obtain the honor of a reception in the drawing-room of the wife + of the first consul; from this day Josephine was the admiration of Europe, + as she had already been that of France and Italy. As the wife of the first + consul of France she could be observed and noticed by all Europe, and it + is certainly a most remarkable and unheard-of circumstance that of all + these thousands of eyes directed at her, none could find in her a stain or + blemish; that, though neither beautiful nor young, her sweet disposition + and grace so enchanted every one as to be accepted as substitutes for + them, while on account of her goodness and generosity her very failings + and weaknesses were overlooked, being interwoven with so many virtues. + </p> + <p> + Constant, the first chamberlain of Bonaparte, who, at the time Bonaparte + was elected first consul, entered his service, describes Josephine’s + appearance and character in the following manner: + </p> + <p> + “Napoleon’s wife was of medium size; her figure was moulded with rare + perfection; her movements had a softness and an elasticity which gave to + her walk something ethereal, without diminishing the majesty of a + sovereign. Her very expressive physiognomy mirrored all the emotions of + her soul without losing aught of the enchanting gentleness which was the + very substance of her character. At the moment of joy or merriment she was + beautiful to behold. Never did a woman more than she justify the + expression that the eyes were the mirror of the soul. Hers were of a + deep-blue color, shadowed by long, slightly-curved lids, and overarched by + the most beautiful eyebrows in the world, and her simple look attracted + you toward her as if by an irresistible power. It was difficult for + Josephine to give to this bewitching look an appearance of severity, yet + she knew how to make it imposing when she chose. Her hair was beautiful, + long, and soft; its light-brown color agreed marvellously well with her + complexion, which was a mixture of delicacy and freshness. At the dawn of + her lofty power the empress was fond of putting on for a head-dress a red + Madras, which gave her the piquant appearance of a creole. But what more + than any thing else contributed to the charm which invested her whole + person was the sweet tone of her voice. How often it has happened to me + and to many others amid our occupations, as soon as this voice was heard, + to remain still for the sake of enjoying the pleasure of hearing it! It + might be said, perhaps, that the empress was not a beautiful woman; but + her countenance, so full of expression and goodness, the angelic grace + which was shed over her whole person, placed her among the most charming + women of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Further on, speaking of her character, he continues: + </p> + <p> + “Goodness was as inseparable from her character as grace from her person. + Good even to weakness, sensitive beyond all expression, generous to + extravagance, she was the delight of all those who were round about her; + certain it is that there never was a woman more loved and more deservedly + loved by those who approached her than Josephine. As she had known what + adversity was, she was full of compassion for the sorrows of others; with + a pleasant, equable temperament, full of condescension alike to foe and + friend, she carried peace wherever discord or disunion existed; if the + emperor was displeased with his brothers, or with any other person, she + uttered words of affection, and soon restored harmony. She possessed a + wondrous tact, a rare sentiment of what was becoming, and the soundest and + most unerring judgment one can possibly imagine. Besides all this, + Josephine had a remarkable memory, to which the emperor would often + appeal. She was a good reader, and had a peculiar charm of her own which + accorded with all her movements. Napoleon preferred her to all his other + readers.” [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. i., pp. 21, 39; vol. ii., + p. 70.] + </p> + <p> + The Duke de Rovigo, the Duchess d’Abrantes, Mdlle. Ducrest, the niece of + the Countess de Genlis, Mdlle. d’Avrillon, General Lafayette, in a word, + all who have written about that period who knew Josephine, bear similar + testimony to her amiable disposition and her superior virtues. + </p> + <p> + In the same manner the man for whom, as Mdlle. Ducrest says, “she would + gladly have given her life,” Napoleon, in his conversations with his + confidential friends at St. Helena, ever spoke of her. “In all positions + of life, Josephine’s demeanor and actions were always pleasant or + bewitching,” said he. “It would have been impossible ever to surprise her, + however intrusive you might be, so as to produce a disagreeable + impression. I always found her in the same humor; she had the same amiable + complacency; she was good, gentle, and ever devoted to her husband in true + affection. He never saw her in bad humor; she was always constantly busy + in endeavoring to please him.” [Footnote: “Memorial de Ste. Helene,” vol. + i. pp. 38, 79.] + </p> + <p> + And she pleased him more than any other woman; he loved her in these happy + days of the consulate with all the affection of the first days of his + marriage; his heart might now and then be drawn aside from her to other + women, but it always returned true and loving to her. + </p> + <p> + And this woman, whom the future King of France called an “angel of + goodness,” and the future Emperor of France, “grace in person,” is the one + who entered the Tuileries at Bonaparte’s side to bring again into France + the tone of good society, refinement of manners, intellectual + conversation, and a love for the arts and sciences. + </p> + <p> + She was fully conscious of this mission, and devoted herself with all the + strength, energy, and perseverance of her character. Her drawing-room soon + became the central rendezvous of men of science, art, learning, politics, + and diplomacy, and to each Josephine knew how to address friendly and + captivating words; she knew how to encourage every one by her noble + affability, by her respectful interest in their works and plans—so + much so that all strove to do as well as possible, and in her presence + appeared more amiable than they otherwise would perhaps have been. + Alongside of the distinguished men of every rank were seen the choicest + company of ladies, young, beautiful, and captivating; the most intelligent + women of the Faubourg St. Germain were not ashamed to appear in the + drawing-room of the wife of the first consul, and thought that the glory + of their old aristocratic names would not be tarnished by association with + Madame Bonaparte, who by birth belonged to them, and formed a sort of + connecting link between the departed royalty of the last century and the + republicans of the present. + </p> + <p> + This republicanism was soon to hide itself behind the columns and mirrors + of the large hall of reception in the Tuileries. Bonaparte—the first + consul, and shortly to be consul for life—would have nothing to do + with this republicanism, which reminded him of the days of terrorism, + anarchy, and the guillotine; and the words “Liberty, Equality, and + Fraternity,” which the revolution had written over the portals of the + Tuileries, were obliterated by the consul of the republic. France had been + sufficiently bled, and had suffered enough for these three words; it was + now to rest under the shadow of legal order and of severe discipline, + after its golden morning-dream of youth’s enchanting hopes. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was to re-establish order and law; Josephine was to remodel + society and the saloon; her mission was to unite the aristocracy of + ancient France with the parvenues of the new; she was to be to the latter + a teacher of refinement, and of the genuine manners and habits of + so-called good society. + </p> + <p> + To accomplish this, the wife of the first consul needed the assistance of + some ladies of those circles who had remained in lofty, haughty isolation; + she needed the co-operation of the ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain. It + is true they made their morning calls, and invited the former Viscountess + de Beauharnais, with her daughter, to their evening receptions; but they + carefully avoided being present at the evening circles of Madame + Bonaparte, where their exclusiveness was beset with the danger of coming + in contact with some “parvenu,” or with some sprig of the army, or of the + financial bureaus. Josephine therefore had to recruit her troops herself + in the Faubourg St. Germain, so as to bring into her saloon the necessary + contingent of the old legitimist aristocracy, and she found what she + desired in a lady with whom she had been acquainted as Viscountess de + Beauharnais, and who then had ever shown herself kind and friendly. This + lady was the Countess de Montesson, the morganatic wife of the Duke + d’Orleans, the father of the Duke Philippe Egalite, who, after betraying + the monarchy to the revolution, was betrayed by the revolution, and, like + his royal relatives, Louis and Marie Antoinette, had perished on the + scaffold! + </p> + <p> + Soon after his entrance into the Tuileries, the first consul invited, + through his wife, the Countess de Montesson to visit him, and when she was + announced he advanced to meet her with an unusual expression of + friendship, and endeavored with great condescension to make her say in + what manner he could please her or be of service to her. + </p> + <p> + “General,” said Madame de Montesson, much surprised, “I have no right + whatever to claim any thing from you.” + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte smiled. “You are mistaken,” said he; “I have been under many + obligations to you for a long time past. Do you not know that to you I am + indebted for my first laurels? You came with the Duke d’Orleans to Brienne + for the purpose of distributing the prizes at the great examination, and + when you placed on my head the laurel-crown, which has since been followed + by others, you said, ‘May it bring you happiness!’ It is commonly believed + that I am a fatalist; it is therefore very natural that I should not have + forgotten my first coronation, and that it is still fresh in my memory. It + would afford me much pleasure to be of service to you; besides, you can be + useful to me. The tone of good society has nearly perished in France; we + would like to renew it again with your assistance. I need some of the + traditions of days gone by—you can assist my wife with them; and + when a distinguished foreigner comes to Paris you can give him a reception + which will convince him that nowhere else can so much gentleness and + amiableness be found.” [Footnote: “Memoires de Mdlle. Ducrest,” vol. i., + p. 9.] + </p> + <p> + That Madame de Montesson might have a striking proof of Bonaparte’s + good-will, he renewed her yearly pension of one hundred and eighty + thousand francs, which the duke had donated to her in his will, and which + Bonaparte restored to her as the property which the revolution had + confiscated for the nation’s welfare. She manifested her gratitude to the + first consul for this liberal pension by opening the saloons to the + “parvenues of the Tuileries;” and leading the aristocrats of the Faubourg + St. Germain into the drawing-rooms of Josephine, and then assisting her to + form out of these elements a court whose lofty and brilliant centre was to + be Josephine herself. The ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain were no + longer ashamed to appear at the new court of the Tuileries, but excused + themselves by saying: “We flatter Josephine, so as to keep her on our + side, and to strengthen her loyalty to the king. She will, by her + entrancing eloquence, persuade the consul to recall our King Louis XVIII., + and give him his crown.” + </p> + <p> + But too soon, alas! were they made aware of their error. It was not long + before they became convinced that, if Bonaparte’s hands were busy in + raising a throne, in lifting up from the earth the fallen crown of + royalty, he was not doing this to place it on the brow of the Count de + Lille; he had a nearer object in view—he considered his own head + better suited to wear it. + </p> + <p> + The conqueror of terrorism and of the revolution was not inclined to be + defeated by the enemies of the republic, who were approaching the + frontiers of France, to restore the Bourbons. He took up the glove which + Austria had thrown down—for she had made alliance with England. + </p> + <p> + On the 6th of May, 1800, Bonaparte left Paris, marched with his army over + Mount St. Bernard, and assumed the chief command of the army in Italy, + which recently had suffered so many disastrous defeats from Suwarrow and + the Archduke Charles. + </p> + <p> + At Marengo, on the 14th of June, Bonaparte obtained a brilliant triumph. + Soon after, at Hohenlinden, Moreau also defeated the Austrians. These two + decisive victories forced Austria to make peace with France, to abandon + her alliance with England—that is to say, with the monarchical + principles; and, at the peace ratified in the beginning of the year 1801 + at Limeville, to concede to France the grand-duchy of Tuscany. + </p> + <p> + In July, Bonaparte returned in triumph to France, and was received by the + people with enthusiastic acclamations. Paris was brilliantly illuminated + on the day of his return, and round about the Tuileries arose the shouts + of the people, who with applauding voices demanded to see the conqueror of + Marengo, and would not remain quiet until he appeared on the balcony. Even + Bonaparte was touched by this enthusiasm of the French people; as he + retreated from the balcony and retired into his cabinet, he said to + Bourrienne. “Listen! The people shout again and again; they still send + their acclamations toward me. I love those sounds; they are nearly as + sweet as Josephine’s voice. How proud and happy I am to be loved by such a + people!” [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. v., p. 35.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. THE INFERNAL MACHINE. + </h2> + <p> + The victory of Marengo, which had pleased the people, had filled the + royalists with terror and fear, and destroyed their hopes of a speedy + restoration of the monarchy, making them conscious of its fruitless + pretensions. With the frenzy of hatred and the bitterness of revenge they + turned against the first consul, who was not now their expected savior of + the monarchy, but a usurper who wanted to gain France for himself. + </p> + <p> + The royalists and the republicans united for the same object. Both parties + longed to destroy Bonaparte: the one to re-establish the republic of the + year 1793, and the other the throne of the Bourbons. Everywhere + conspiracies and secret associations were organized, and the watchful and + active police discovered in a few months more than ten plots, the aim of + which was to murder Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + Josephine heard this with sorrow and fear, with tears of anxiety and love. + She had now given her whole heart and soul to Bonaparte, and it was the + torment of martyrdom to see him every day threatened by assassins and by + invisible foes, who from dark and hidden places drew their daggers at him. + Her love surrounded him with vigilant friends and servants, who sought to + discover every danger and to remove it from his path. + </p> + <p> + When he was coming to Malmaison, Josephine before his arrival would send + her servants to search every hiding-place in the park, to see if in some + shady grove a murderer might not be secreted; she entreated Junot or Murat + to send scouts from Paris on the road to Malmaison to remove all + suspicious persons from it. Yet her heart trembled with anxiety when she + knew him to be on the way, and, when he had safely arrived, she would + receive him with rapture, as if he had just escaped an imminent danger, + and would make him laugh by the exclamations of joy with which she greeted + him as one saved from danger. + </p> + <p> + In the anxiety of her watchful love she made herself acquainted with all + the details of the discovered conspiracies of both the Jacobins and + royalists. She knew there were two permanent conspiracies at work, though + their leaders had been discovered and led into prison. + </p> + <p> + One of these conspiracies had been organized by the old Jacobins, the + republicans of the Convention; and these bands of the “enraged,” as they + called themselves, numbered in their ranks all the enemies of + constitutional order, all the men of the revolution of 1789; and all these + men had sworn with solemn oaths to kill Bonaparte, and to deliver the + republic from her greatest and most dangerous enemy. + </p> + <p> + The other conspiracy, which had its ramifications throughout France, was + formed by the royalists. “The Society of the White Mantle” was mostly + composed of Chouans, daring men of Vendee, who were ever ready to + sacrifice their lives to the mere notion of royalty, and who like the + Jacobins had sworn to murder Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + Chevalier, who, with his ingenious infernal machine, sought to kill + Bonaparte on his way to Malmaison, belonged to the Society of the White + Mantle. But he was betrayed by his confidant and associate Becyer, who + assisted the police to arrest him. To the conspiracy of the “enraged” + belonged the Italians Ceracchi, Arena, and Diana, who at the opera, when + the consul appeared in his loge, and was greeted by the acclamations of + the people, were ready to fire their pistols at him. But at the moment + they were about to commit the deed from behind the side-scenes, where they + had hidden themselves, they were seized, arrested, and led to prison by + the police. Josephine, as already said, knew all these conspiracies; she + trembled for Bonaparte’s life, and yet she could not prevent him from + appearing in public, and she herself, smiling and apparently unsuspecting, + had to appear at Bonaparte’s side at the grand parades, in the national + festivities, and at the theatrical performances; no feature on her face + was to betray the anxiety she was enduring. + </p> + <p> + One day, however, not only Bonaparte’s life but also that of Josephine, + was imperilled by the conspirators; the famous infernal machine which had + been placed on their way to the opera, would have killed the first consul + and his wife, if a red Persian shawl had not saved them both. + </p> + <p> + At the grand opera, that evening, was to be performed Joseph Haydn’s + masterpiece, “The Creation.” The Parisians awaited this performance with + great expectation; they rushed to the opera, not only to hear the + oratorio, the fame of which had spread from Vienna to Paris, but also to + see Bonaparte and his wife, who it was known would attend the performance. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had requested Bonaparte to be present at this great musical + event, for she knew that the public would be delighted at his presence. He + at first manifested no desire to do so, for he was not sufficiently versed + in musical matters for it to afford him much enjoyment; and besides, there + was but one kind of music he liked, and that was the Italian, the richness + of whose melody pleased him, while the German and French left him + dissatisfied and weary. However, Bonaparte gave way to the entreaties of + Josephine, and resolved to drive to the opera. The dinner that day had + been somewhat later than usual, for besides Josephine, her children, and + Bonaparte’s sister Caroline, Murat, the Generals Bessieres and Lannes, as + well as Bonaparte’s two adjutants, Lebrun and Rapp, had been present. + Immediately after dinner they wanted to drive to the opera; but as + Josephine lingered behind, busy with the arrangement of her shawl, + Bonaparte declared he would drive in advance with the two Generals + Bessieres and Lebrun, while Rapp was to accompany the ladies in the second + carriage. With his usual rapidity of action he seized his hat and sword, + and, followed by his companions, left the room to go to the carriage, + which was waiting. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, who imagined that Bonaparte was waiting for her at the + carriage, hurriedly put on, without troubling herself any longer about the + becoming arrangement of the folds, a red Persian shawl, which Bonaparte + had sent her as a present from Egypt. She was going to leave, when Rapp, + with the openness of a soldier, made the remark that she had not put on + her shawl to-day with her accustomed elegance. She smiled, and begged him + to arrange it after the fashion of Egyptian ladies. Rapp laughingly + hastened to comply with her wishes; and while Josephine, Madame Murat, and + Hortense, watched attentively the arrangement of the shawl in the hands of + Rapp, Bonaparte’s carriage was heard moving away. + </p> + <p> + This noise put a speedy end to all further movements, and Josephine, with + the ladies and Rapp, hastened to follow Bonaparte. Their carriage had no + sooner reached the Place de Carrousel, than an appalling explosion was + heard, and a bright flame like a lightning-flash filled the whole place + with its glare; at the same moment the windows of the carriage were broken + into fragments, which flew in every direction into the carriage, and one + of which penetrated so deep into the arm of Hortense, that the blood + gushed out. Josephine uttered a cry of horror—“Bonaparte is + murdered!” At the same moment were heard loud shrieks and groans. + </p> + <p> + Rapp, seized with fear, and only thinking that Bonaparte was in danger, + sprang out of the carriage, and, careless of the wounded and bleeding, who + lay near, ran onward to the opera to find out if Bonaparte had safely + reached there. While the ladies, in mortal agony, remained on the Place de + Carrousel, not knowing whether to return to the Tuileries or to drive + forward, a messenger arrived at full speed to announce that the first + consul had not been hurt, and that he was waiting for his wife in his + loge, and begged her to come without delay. Meanwhile Rapp had reached the + opera, and had penetrated into the box of the first consul. Bonaparte was + seated calmly and unmoved in his accustomed place, examining the audience + through his glass, and now and then addressing a few words to the + secretary of police, Fouche, who stood near him. No sooner did Bonaparte + see Rapp, than he said hastily, and in a low voice—“Josephine?” + </p> + <p> + At that moment she entered, followed by Madame Murat and Hortense. + Bonaparte saluted them with a smile, and with a look of unfathomable love + he extended his hand to Josephine. She was still pale and trembling, + although she had no conception of the greatness of the danger which had + menaced her. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte endeavored to quiet her by stating that the explosion was + probably the result of some accident or imprudence; but at this moment the + prefect of the police entered who had been on the spot, and had come to + give a report of the dreadful effects of the explosion. Fifteen persons + had been killed, more than thirty had been severely wounded, and about + forty houses seriously damaged. This was all the work of a so-called + infernal machine—a small barrel filled with powder and quicksilver—which + had been placed in a little carriage at the entrance of the Hue St. + Nicaise. + </p> + <p> + Until now Josephine did not realize the extent of the danger which had + threatened her and her husband. Had the explosion taken place a few + moments before, it would have killed the consul; if it had been one minute + later, Josephine and her companions would have been involved in the + catastrophe. It was the shawl which Rapp was arranging on her shoulders + according to the rules of art, which caused them to retard their + departure, and thus saved her life. + </p> + <p> + An inexpressible horror now seized her and made her tremble; her looks, + full of love and deep anguish, were fixed on Bonaparte, who, in a low + voice, entreated her to compose herself, and not to make her distress + public. Near Josephine sat Hortense, pale and agitated, like her mother; + around her wounded arm was wrapped a handkerchief, stained here and there + with blood. Madame Murat was quiet and composed, like Bonaparte, who was + then giving instructions to the prefect of police to provide immediate + assistance for the unfortunate persons who had been wounded. + </p> + <p> + No one yet in the audience knew the appalling event. The thundering noise + had been heard, but it was presumed to have been an artillery salute, and + no evil was suspected, for Bonaparte, with his usual guards, had entered + his box, and, advancing to its very edge, had saluted the public in a + friendly way. This act of the first consul had its ordinary effect: the + audience, indifferent to the music, rose and saluted their hero with loud + acclamation and applause. Not till Josephine entered the loge had the + acclamations subsided, and the music begun again. A few minutes after, the + news of the fearful event spread all over the house: a murmur arose, and + the music was interrupted anew. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess d’Abrantes, who was present at this scene, gives a faithful, + eloquent, and graphic picture of it: + </p> + <p> + “A vague noise,” says she, “began to spread from the parterre to the + orchestra, and from the amphitheatre to the boxes. Soon the news of the + occurrence was known all over the house, when, like a sudden clap of + thunder, an acclamation burst forth, and the whole audience, with a single + undivided look of love, seemed to desire to embrace Bonaparte. What I am + narrating I have seen, and I am not the only one who saw it. ... What + excitement followed this first explosion of national anger, which at this + moment was represented by the audience, whose horror at the dark plot + cannot be described with words! Women were seen weeping and sobbing; men, + pale as death, trembled with vengeance and anger, whatever might have been + the political standard which they followed; all hearts and hands were + united to prove that difference of opinion creates no difference in the + interpretation of the code of honor. During the whole scene my eyes were + fixed on the loge of the consul. He was quiet, and only seemed moved when + public sentiment gave utterance to strong expressive words about the + conspiracy, and these reached him. Madame Bonaparte was not fully + composed. Her countenance was disturbed; even her attitude, generally so + very graceful, was no longer under her control. She seemed to tremble + under her shawl as under a protecting canopy, and in fact it was this + shawl which had saved her from destruction. She was weeping; however much + she endeavored to compose herself, she could not repress her tears; they + would flow, against her will, down her pale cheeks, and, whenever + Josephine fixed her eyes upon her husband, she trembled again. Even her + daughter seemed extremely agitated, and Madame Murat alone preserved the + family character, and seemed entirely herself.” [Footnote: Duchess + d’Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 66.] + </p> + <p> + At last, when the public excitement was somewhat abated, and the music was + again resumed, the audience turned its attention to Hadyn’s masterpiece. + But Josephine had not the strength to bear this effort, and to submit to + it quietly. She entreated her husband to retire with her and the ladies; + and when at last he acceded to her request, and had quietly left the loge + with her, Josephine sat by him in the carriage, opposite Caroline and + Hortense, and, sobbing, threw herself on Bonaparte’s breast, and cried out + in her anguish: + </p> + <p> + “What a life, where I must ever be trembling for you!” + </p> + <p> + The infernal machine did not kill the first consul, but it gave to liberty + and to the republic a fatal blow; it scattered into fragments what + remained of the revolutionary institutions from the days of blood and + terror. France rose up in disgust and horror against the party which made + of assassins its companions, and consequently this conspiracy failed to + accomplish what its originators had expected. They wanted to destroy + Bonaparte and ruin his power, but this abortive attempt only increased his + popularity, enlarged his power, and deepened the people’s love for him who + now appeared to them as a protecting rampart, and a barrier to the flood + of anarchy. + </p> + <p> + France gave herself up trembling, and without a will of her own, into the + hands of the hero to whom she was indebted for fame and recognition by + foreign powers, and through whom she hoped to secure domestic peace. + France longed for a strong arm to support her; Bonaparte gave her this + arm, but it not only supported France, it bowed her down; and from this + day he placed the reins on the wild republican steed, and let it feel that + it had found a master who had the power and the will to direct it entirely + in accordance with his wishes. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was determined to put an end to the seditions and conspiracies + of the republicans, whom he hated because they had for their aim the + downfall of all legitimate authority; and in turn was hated by them + because he had abandoned their standard and turned against the republic + with the faithlessness of a son who attacks the mother that gave him + birth. Bonaparte maintained that it was the republicans who had set the + infernal machine on his path, and paid no attention to the opinion of + Fouche, who ascribed to the royalists the origin of the plot. Bonaparte + wished first to do away with his most violent and bitter enemies, the + republicans of the year 1789; he desired to possess the power of punishing + such, and to render them harmless, and now the horror produced by this + criminal act came to his assistance in carrying out this plan. + </p> + <p> + The council of the state adopted the legislative enactment that the + consuls should have “the power to remove from Paris those persons whose + presence they considered dangerous to the public security, and that all + such persons who should leave their place of banishment should be + transported from the country!” + </p> + <p> + Under this law, George Cadoudal, Chevalier, Arena, Ceracchi, and many + others were executed; and one hundred and thirty persons, whose only crime + was that of being suspected of dissatisfaction toward the administration + of the consuls, and considered as Bonaparte’s enemies, were transported to + Cayenne. + </p> + <p> + Such were for France the results of this infernal machine, the object of + which was to assassinate the Consul Bonaparte, instead of which it had + only the effect of destroying his enemies and strengthening his power. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. THE CASHMERES AND THE LETTER. + </h2> + <p> + As mighty events always exercise an influence on minor ones, so this + fearful attempt at murder became the occasion for the introduction into + France of a new branch of industry, which had hitherto drawn millions from + Europe to the East. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, gratefully remembering her truly wonderful deliverance through + the means of her Persian shawl, wore it afterward in preference to any + other. Until then she had never fancied it, for when Bonaparte sent it to + her from Egypt, she wrote to him: “I have received the shawl. It may be + very beautiful and very costly, but I find it unsightly. Its great + advantage consists in its lightness. I doubt, however, if this new fashion + will meet with approbation. Notwithstanding, I am pleased with it, for it + is rare and warm.” [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice,” par + Mademoiselle Ducrest, vol. iii., p. 227.] + </p> + <p> + But after it had saved her life, she no longer thought it unsightly, she + was fond of wrapping herself up in it, and the natural consequence was, + that these Persian shawls soon formed the most fashionable and costly + article of apparel. + </p> + <p> + Every lady of the higher classes considered it a necessity to cover her + tender shoulders with this valuable foreign material, and it soon became + “comme il faut” a duty of position, to possess a collection of such + Persian shawls, and to wear them at the balls and receptions in the + Tuileries. + </p> + <p> + The desire to possess such a precious article of fashion led these ladies + oftentimes to “corriger la fortune” and to obtain, by some bold but not + very creditable act, possession of such a shawl, which had now become in a + certain measure the escutcheon of the new French aristocracy. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess d’Abrantes, in reference to this matter, relates two thefts + which at that time troubled the aristocratic society of the Tuileries, + which prove that the ladies had taken instructions from the gentlemen, and + that dishonest persons of both sexes were admitted into the society of + heroes and their beautiful wives! + </p> + <p> + At a morning reception in the Tuileries, the shawl of the Countess de St. + Martin had been stolen; and this lady was very much distressed at the + loss, for this cashmere was not only a present from Madame Murat, but was + one of uncommon beauty, on account of the rarity of the design, consisting + of paroquets in artistic groups, instead of the ordinary palm. The + countess was therefore untiring in recounting to every one her irreparable + loss, and uttered bitter curses against the bold female who had stolen her + treasure. + </p> + <p> + “A few weeks later,” relates the duchess, “at a ball given by the minister + Talleyrand, the countess came toward me with a bright countenance and told + me that she had just now found her shawl, and, strange to say, upon the + shoulders of a young lady at the ball! + </p> + <p> + “‘But,’ said I to her, ‘you will not accuse this lady before the whole + company!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And why not?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Because that would be wrong. Leave this matter to me.’ + </p> + <p> + “She would not at first, but I pressed the subject on her consideration, + and she agreed at length to remain somewhat behind, while I approached the + young lady, who stood near the door, and was just going to leave the + ballroom. I told her in a low voice that in all probability she had made a + mistake; that she had perhaps mislaid her own cashmere, and had through + carelessness taken the shawl of the Countess de St. Martin. + </p> + <p> + “I was as polite as I could possibly be in such a communication; but the + young lady looked at me unpleasantly for such an impertinent intrusion, + and replied that ‘since the time the Countess de St. Martin had deafened + the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl, she had had + ample leisure to recognize as her property the cashmere she wore.’ Her + mother, who stood a few steps from her, and was conversing with another + lady, turned toward her when she heard her daughter speak in so loud a + voice. But the Countess de St. Martin, who had overheard that she ‘had + deafened the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl,’ rushed + in to the rescue of her case. + </p> + <p> + “‘This cashmere belongs to me,’ said she, haughtily—seizing, at the + same time, the shawl with one hand, while the young lady with her fist + thrust her back violently. I saw that in a moment they would come to + blows. + </p> + <p> + “‘It will be easy to end this difficulty,’ said I to the Countess de St. + Martin. ‘Madame will be kind enough to tell us where she has purchased + this shawl which is so much like yours, and then you will see your + mistake, and be satisfied.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It does not suit me to tell where I got this shawl,’ replied the lady, + looking at me contemptuously; ‘there is no necessity for my telling you + where I purchased it.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, then,’ exclaimed eagerly the Countess de St. Martin, ‘you confess, + madame, that the shawl really belongs to you?’ + </p> + <p> + “The other answered with a sarcastic smile, and drew the shawl closer to + her shoulders. A few persons, attracted by the strangeness of such a + scene, had gathered around us, and seemed to wait for the end of so + extraordinary an event. + </p> + <p> + “The countess continued with a loud voice: + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, then, madame, since the shawl belongs to you, you can explain to + me why the name of Christine, which is my first name, is embroidered in + red silk on the small edging. Madame Junot will be kind enough to look for + this name.’ + </p> + <p> + “The young woman became pale as death. I shall never during my life forget + the despairing look which she gave me, as with trembling hand she passed + me the shawl, just as her father appeared from a room near the place of + the scene. I took the cashmere with an unsteady hand, and sought + reluctantly for the name of Christine, for I trusted she would at least + have taken it out; but the deathly paleness of the guilty one told the + contrary, and in fact I had no sooner unfolded the shawl, than the name + appeared, embroidered at the narrow edging. + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah!’ at last exclaimed the countess, in a triumphant tone, ‘I have—’ + but as she raised her eyes to the young woman, she was touched by her + despairing look. ‘Well, then,’ cried she, ‘this is one of those mistakes + which so often happen. To-morrow I will return your cashmere.—We + have exchanged cashmeres,’ said she, turning to the young lady’s father, + who, surprised at seeing her naked shoulders, gazed at his daughter, not + understanding the matter. ‘You will have the goodness to send me my shawl + to-morrow,’ added she, noticing how the young woman trembled. + </p> + <p> + “We returned into the ballroom, and the next day the young lady sent to + the Countess de St. Martin her precious shawl. + </p> + <p> + “Something similar to this happened at the same time to Madame Hamelin. + She was at a ball; when rising from her seat to join in a contra-dance, + she left there a very beautiful black shawl; when she returned, her shawl + was no longer there, but she saw it on the shoulders of a well-known and + distinguished lady. Approaching her, she said: + </p> + <p> + “‘Madame, you have my shawl!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Not at all, madame!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But, madame, this is my shawl, and, as an evidence, I can state the + number of its palms—it has exactly thirteen, a very unusual number!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘My shawl has also, by chance, precisely thirteen palms.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But,’ said Madame Hamelin, ‘I have torn it since I came here. You can + see where it is torn, and by that means I recognize my shawl.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah, my goodness! my shawl has also been torn; that is precisely why I + bought it, for I obtained it on that account somewhat cheaper.’ + </p> + <p> + “It is useless to dispute with a person who is determined to follow + Basil’s receipt, that ‘what is worth taking is worth keeping.’ Madame + Hamelin lost her shawl, and had, as a sole consolation, the petty + vengeance of relating to everybody how it was taken, and of pointing out + the thief, who was in the meanwhile perfectly shameless.” [Footnote: + Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. ix., pp. 70-76.] + </p> + <p> + No one, however, had a larger and more choice selection of these cashmere + shawls than Josephine. Mdlle. Ducrest relates that the deceased empress + had more than one hundred and fifty of the most magnificent and costly + cashmere shawls. She had sent to Constantinople patterns from which she + had them made there, as pleasing to the eye as they were costly and + precious. Every week M. Lenormant, the first man-milliner in Paris, came + to Navarra, the country residence of the empress, and brought his most + beautiful shawls for her selection. The empress possessed several (having + a white ground covered with roses, violets, paroquets, peacocks, and other + objects of beauty hitherto unknown in France) each of which cost from + fifteen to twenty thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + The empress went so far in her passion for cashmeres as to have dresses + made of the same material. One day she had put on one of these dresses, + which was so beautiful, that some gentlemen invited to dinner could not + withhold their admiration. One of them, Count Pourtales, thought that this + splendid material would be well adapted for a gentleman’s vest. Josephine, + in her large-heartedness, had a pair of scissors brought; she then cut her + dress into several pieces sufficiently large for a vest, and divided them + among the gentlemen present, so that only the bodice of the dress + remained, with a small piece around the waist But this improvised spencer + over the white richly-embroidered under-dress, was so exceedingly becoming + to the empress, and brought out so exquisitely her beautiful bust, and + slender graceful waist, that it would have been easy to consider as a + piece of coquetry what was simply Josephine’s spontaneous generosity. + [Footnote: Mademoiselle Ducrest.] + </p> + <p> + Josephine, however, did not so assiduously attend to her cashmere shawls + as to forget the unfortunate victims of the infernal machine. On the + contrary, she saw with deep pain how every one was busy in inculpating + others, and in casting suspicions on royalists and Jacobins, so as to give + a pretext to punish them. She noticed that all those who wished to gain + the consul’s favor were zealous in spying out fresh culprits, for it was + well known that Bonaparte was inclined to make of all hostile parties a + terrible example, so that, through the severity of the punishment and the + number of the punished, he might deter the dissatisfied from any further + plots. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s compassionate heart was distressed, through sympathy for so + many unfortunate persons, whom wicked men maliciously were endeavoring to + drag into guilt, so as to have them punished; and the injustice which the + judges manifested at every hearing filled her with anger and horror. Ever + ready to help the needy, and to protect the persecuted, she addressed + herself to Fouche, the minister of police, and requested him to use + mildness and compassion. She wrote to him: + </p> + <p> + “Citizen minister, while trembling at the frightful calamity which has + taken place, I feel uneasy and pained at the fear of the punishments which + hang over the poor creatures who, I am told, belong to families with which + I have been connected in days past. I shall therefore be appealed to by + mothers, sisters, and despairing wives; my heart will be lacerated by the + sad consciousness that I cannot obtain pardon for all those who implore + it. + </p> + <p> + “The generosity of the consul is great, his affection for me is boundless, + I know it well; but the crime is of so awful a nature that he will deem it + necessary to make an example of extreme severity. The supreme magistrate + was not alone exposed to danger—many others were killed and wounded + by this sad event, and it is this which will make the consul severe and + implacable. + </p> + <p> + “I conjure you, then, citizen minister, to avoid extending your researches + too far, and not always to spy out new persons who might be compromised by + this horrible machine. Must France, which has been held in terror by so + many executions, have to sigh over new victims? Is it not much more + important to appease the minds of the people than to excite them by new + terrors? Finally, would it not be advisable, so soon as the originators of + this awful crime are captured, to have compassion and mercy upon + subordinate persons who may have been entangled in it through dangerous + sophisms and fanatical sentiments? + </p> + <p> + “Barely vested with the supreme authority, ought not the first consul + study to win the hearts rather than to make slaves of his people? + Moderate, therefore, by your advice, where in his first excitement he may + be too severe. To punish is, alas, too often necessary! To pardon is, I + trust, still more. In a word, be a protector to the unfortunate who, + through their confession or repentance, have already made in part penance + for their guilt. + </p> + <p> + “As I myself, without any fault on my part, nearly lost my life in the + revolution, you can easily understand that I take an interest in those who + can perhaps be saved without thereby endangering my husband’s life, which + is so precious to me and to France. I therefore earnestly desire that you + will make a distinction between the leaders of this conspiracy and those + who, from fear or weakness, have been seduced into bringing upon + themselves a portion of the guilt. As a woman, a wife, a mother, I can + readily feel for all the heart-rending agonies of those families which + appeal to me. + </p> + <p> + “Do what you possibly can, citizen minister, to diminish their numbers; + you will thereby spare me much anxiety. I can never be deaf to the cries + of distress from the needy; but in this matter you can do a great deal + more than I can, and therefore pardon what may seem strange in my + pleadings with you. + </p> + <p> + “Believe in my gratitude and loyalty of sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “JOSEPHINE.” [Footnote: Ducrest, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 231.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI. MALMAISON. + </h2> + <p> + In the Tuileries the first consul, with his wife, resided in all the pomp + and dignity of his new office. There he was the sovereign, the commander; + there he ruled, and, like a king, all bowed to him; the people humbled + themselves and recognized him as their master. + </p> + <p> + In the Tuileries etiquette and the stiff pomp of a princely court + prevailed more and more. Bonaparte required of his wife that she should + there represent the dignity and the grandeur of her new position; that she + should appear as the first, the most exalted, and the most unapproachable + of women. In the Tuileries there were no more evenings of pleasant social + gatherings, of joyous conversation with friends whom affection made + equals, and who, in love and admiration, recognizing Bonaparte’s + ascendency, brought him of their own free choice their esteem and high + consideration. Now, it was all honor and duty; now, the friends of the + past wore servants who, for duty’s sake, had to be subservient to their + master, and abide by the rules of etiquette, otherwise the frown on their + lofty ruler’s brow would bring them back within their bounds. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was pained at these limits set to her personal freedom—at + these claims of etiquette, which did not permit her friends to remain at + her side, but strove to exalt above them the wife of the first consul. Her + sense of modesty ever accepted the pleasant, genial household affections + as more agreeable and more precious than the burdensome representations, + levees, and the tediousness of ceremonial receptions; her sense of modesty + longed for the quiet and repose of retirement, and she was happy when, at + the close of the court festivities, she could return to Malmaison, there + to enjoy the coming of spring, the blossoming of summer, and the glorious + beauty of autumn with its manifold colors. + </p> + <p> + In Malmaison were centered all her joys and pleasures. There she could + satisfy all the inclinations of her heart, all the fancies of her + imagination, all the wants of her mind; there she could be the tender wife + and mother, and the faithful friend; there she could receive, without the + annoyance of etiquette, men of learning and art; there she could cultivate + the soil and devote herself to botany, her favorite study, and to her + flowers, the dearest and most faithful friends of her whole life. + </p> + <p> + Josephine sought for and found in Malmaison her earthly paradise; there + she was happy, and the care and the secret anguish which in Paris wove + around her heart its network, and every now and then whispered the + nefarious words of divorce and separation, followed her not in the + beautiful and friendly Malmaison; she left all this in Paris with the + stiff Madame Etiquette, who once in the Tuileries had poisoned the + existence of the Queen Marie Antoinette, and now sought to intrude herself + upon the consulate as an ill-tempered sovereign. + </p> + <p> + But in Malmaison there was no etiquette, none of the dignified coldness of + court-life. There you were allowed to laugh, to jest, and to be happy. In + Malmaison the first consul laid aside his gravity; there his gloomy brow + brightened, and he became again General Bonaparte, the lover of his + Josephine, the confidential companion of his friends, the harmless + individual, who seemed to have nothing to require from Heaven but the + happiness of the passing hour, and who could laugh at a joke with the same + guilelessuess as any other child of the people who never deemed it + necessary to cultivate a close intimacy with the grave and gloomy Madame + Politique. + </p> + <p> + It is true Malmaison was not Bonaparte’s sole country residence. The city + of Paris had presented him with the pleasure-castle of St. Cloud, the same + which Louis XVI. gave to his wife, and where, to the very great annoyance + of the proud Parisians, she had for the first time engraven on the + regulation-tablets, at the entrance of the park, the fatal words—“De + par la Reine.” + </p> + <p> + Now this royal mansion of pleasure belonged to the first consul of the + republic; it was his summer residence, but there he was still the consul, + the first magistrate, and the representative of France; and he had there + to give receptions, hold levees, receive the ministers, councillors of + state, and the foreign ambassadors, and appear in all the pomp and + circumstance of his position. + </p> + <p> + But in Malmaison his countenance and his being were changed. Here he was + the cheerful man, enjoying life; he was the joyous companion, the modest + land-owner, who with genial delight surveyed the produce of his soil, and + even calculated how much profit it could bring him. + </p> + <p> + “The first consul in Malmaison,” said the English minister, Fox, “the + first consul in St. Cloud, and the first consul in the Tuileries, are + three different persons, who together form that great and wonderful idea; + I should exceedingly like to be able to represent exactly after nature + these three portraits; they must be very much alike, and yet very + different.” + </p> + <p> + It is certain, however, that of these three portraits that of the first + consul in Malmaison was the most amiable, and that of the first consul of + the Tuileries the most imposing. + </p> + <p> + In Malmaison Bonaparte’s countenance was cheerful and free from care; in + the Tuileries he was grave and dignified. On his clouded brow were + enthroned great designs; from the deep, dark eyes shot lightnings ready to + fire a world—to erect or destroy kingdoms. In Malmaison these eyes + with cheerful brilliancy reposed on Josephine; his otherwise earnest lips + welcomed there the beloved of his heart with merry pleasantry and spirited + raillery; there he loved to see Josephine in simple, modest toilet; and if + in the lofty halls of the Tuileries he exacted from the wife of the first + consul a brilliant toilet, the bejewelled magnificence of the first lady + of France, he was delighted when in Malmaison he saw coming through the + green foliage the wife of General Bonaparte in simple white muslin, with a + laughing countenance; and with her sweet voice, which he still considered + as the finest music he ever heard, she bade welcome to her husband who + here was changed into her tender lover. + </p> + <p> + In Malmaison, Bonaparte would even put off his general’s uniform, and, in + his plain gray coat of a soldier, walk through the park in the + neighborhood, resting on the arm of his confidant, Duroc, and would begin + a friendly conversation with the first farmer he met, perfectly satisfied + when in the little man with the gray tightly-buttoned coat, no one + suspected or imagined to see the first consul of the republic. + </p> + <p> + Every Saturday the first consul hastened to the chateau to pass there, as + he said, his Sunday, his day of rest; and only on Monday morning did he + return to Paris, “to take up his chain again.” + </p> + <p> + How genial and happy were these days of rest! How eagerly did Josephine + labor to make them days of felicity for Bonaparte! how ingenious to + prepare for him new festivities and new surprises! and how her eyes + brightened when she had succeeded in making Bonaparte joyous and + contented! + </p> + <p> + If the weather was favorable, the whole company in Malmaison, the young + generals, with their beautiful, young, and lively wives, who surrounded + Bonaparte and Josephine, and of whom a great number belonged to their + family, made promenades through the park, then they seated themselves on a + fine spot to repeat stories or to indulge in harmless sociable games, in + which Bonaparte with the most cheerful alacrity took part. Even down to + the game of “catch” and to that of “room-renting” did Bonaparte condescend + to play; and as Marie Antoinette with her husband and her court played at + blindman’s-buff in the gardens of Trianon, so Bonaparte was pleased on the + lawns of Malmaison to play at “room-renting.” + </p> + <p> + How often after a dark, cloudy morning, when suddenly at noon the skies + would become clear and the sunshine break through the clouds, would + Bonaparte’s countenance gladden with all the spirit of a school-boy, in + the midst of holidays, and, throwing off his coat, laughingly exclaim, + “Now come, one and all, and let us rent the room!” + </p> + <p> + And then on the large, open lawn, surrounded on all sides by tall trees, + the first consul with his wife, his generals and their young wives, would + begin the exhilarating, harmless child’s-play, forgetful of all care, void + of all fear, except that he should lose his tree, and that as a penniless + individual having to rent a room he would have to stand in the centre + before all eyes, just as first consul he stood before all eyes in the + centre of France, and struggled for a place the importance and title of + which were known only to his silent soul. But in Malmaison, at the game of + “room to let,” Bonaparte had no remembrance whatever of the ambitious + wishes of the first consul; the whole world seemed to have set, the + memories of his youth passed before his eyes in such beauty, saluting him + with the gracious looks of childhood, as nearly to make him an enthusiast. + </p> + <p> + How often, when on Josephine’s arm, surrounded by a laughing, noisy group + of friends, and walking through shady paths, on hearing the bells of the + neighboring village chime their vespers, would Bonaparte suddenly + interrupt the conversation and stand still to hear them! With a motion of + the hand he would command silence, while he listened with a smile of grief + to sounds which recalled days long gone by. “These bells remind me of the + days of my boyhood,” said he to Josephine; “it seems to me, when I hear + them, that I am still in Brienne.” + </p> + <p> + To keep alive the memories of his school-days in Brienne, he sent for one + of his teachers, the Abbe Dupuis, who had been remarkably kind to him, and + invited him to Malmaison, to arrange there a library, and to take charge + of it; he sent also for the porter of Brienne whose wife he had so + severely prohibited from entering the theatre, and made him the porter of + the chateau. + </p> + <p> + In bad weather and on rainy days the whole company gathered in the large + drawing-room, and found amusement in playing the various games of cards, + in which Bonaparte not only took much interest, but in which he so eagerly + played, that he often had recourse to apparent bungling, so as to command + success. Adjoining the drawing-room, where conversation and amusements + took place, was a room where the company sang and practised music, to the + delight of Bonaparte, who often, when one of his favorite tunes was + played, would chime in vigorously with the melody, nowise disturbed by the + fact that he never could catch the right tune, and that he broke out every + time into distressing discordance! + </p> + <p> + But all songs and music subsided, all plays were interrupted, when + Bonaparte, excited perhaps by the approaching twilight, or by some + awakened memory, began to relate one of those tragic, fearful stories + which no one could tell so well as he. Then, with arms folded behind his + back, he slowly paced the drawing-room, and with sinister looks, tragic + manner, and sepulchral voice, he would begin the solemn introduction of + his narrative: + </p> + <p> + “When death strikes, at a distance, a person whom we love,” said he, one + evening, with a voice tremulous with horror, “a certain foreboding nearly + always makes us anticipate the event, and the person, touched by the hand + of death, appears to us at the moment we lose him on earth.” + </p> + <p> + “How very sad and mournful that sounds!” sighed Josephine, as she placed + both her arms on Bonaparte’s shoulder, as if she would hold him, and chain + him to earth, that he might not vanish away with every ghost-like form. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte turned to her with a genial smile, and shook his head at her, so + as to assure her of his existence and his love. Then he began his story + with all the earnestness and tragic power of an improvisator of ancient + Rome. He told how once Louis XIV., in the great gallery of Versailles, + received the bulletin of the battle of Friedlingen, and how, unfolding it, + he read to the assembled court the names of the slain and of the wounded. + Quietness reigned in the splendidly-illumined gallery; and the courtiers + in their embroidered coats, who, ordinarily, were so full of merriment and + so high-spirited, had, all at once, become thoughtful. They gathered in a + circle around the monarch, from whose lips slowly, like falling tears, + fell one by one the names of the killed. Here and there the cheeks of + their relatives turned pale. Suddenly the Count de Beaugre saw appear, at + the farther end of the gallery, stately and ghost-like, the blood-stained + figure of his son, who, with eyes wide open, stared at his father, and + saluted him with a slight motion of the head, and then glided away through + the door. “My son is dead!” cried Count de Beaugre—and, at the very + same moment, the king uttered his name as one of the slain!” [Footnote: + Bourrienne, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 225.] + </p> + <p> + “Ah! may I never see such a ghost-like figure,” murmured Josephine, + drawing closer to her husband. “Bonaparte, promise me that you will never + go to war again; that you will keep peace with all the world, so that I + may have no cause of alarm!” + </p> + <p> + “And to tremble at my ghost,” exclaimed Bonaparte, laughing. “Look at this + selfish woman, she does not wish me a hero’s death, lest I should appear + to her here in the shape of a bloody placard!” + </p> + <p> + With her small bejewelled hand Josephine closed his mouth, and ordered + lights to be brought; she asked Lavalette to play a lively dancing-tune, + and cried out to the joyous youthful group, at the head of whom were + Hortense and Eugene, to fall in for a dance. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more charming,” writes the Duchess d’Abrantes, “could be seen + than a ball in Malmaison, made up as it was of the young ladies whom the + military family of the first consul brought together, and who, without + having the name of it, formed the court of Madame Bonaparte. They were all + young, many of them very beautiful; and when this lovely group were + dressed in white crape, adorned with flowers, their heads crowned with + wreaths as fresh as the hues of their young, laughing, charming faces, it + was indeed a bewitching sight to witness the animated and lively dance in + these halls, through which walked the first consul, surrounded by the men + with whom he discussed and decided the destinies of Europe.” [Footnote: + Abrantes, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 329.] + </p> + <p> + But the best and most exciting amusement in Malmaison was the theatre; and + nothing delighted Bonaparte so much as this, where the young troop of + lovers in the palace performed little operas and vaudevilles, and went + through their parts with all the eagerness of real actors, perfectly happy + in having the consul and his wife for audience. In Malmaison, Bonaparte + abandoned himself with boundless joy to his fondness for the theatre; here + he applauded with all the gusto of an amateur, laughed with the + laisser-aller of a college-boy at the harmless jokes of the vaudevilles, + and here also he took great pleasure in the dramatic performances of + Eugene, who excelled especially in comic roles. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had a most convenient stage constructed in Malmaison for his + actors; he had the most beautiful costumes made for each new piece, and + the actors Talma and Michet had to come every week to the chateau, to give + the young people instruction in their parts. The ordinary actors of this + theatre in the castle were Eugene and Hortense, Caroline Murat, Lauriston, + M. Didelot, the prefect of the palace, some of the officers attached to + the establishment, and the Count Bourrienne, the friend of Bonaparte’s + youth, who now had become the first secretary of the consul. The pieces + which Bonaparte attended with the greatest pleasure were the “Barber of + Seville,” and “Mistrust and Malice.” The young and amiable Hortense made + an excellent Rosine in the “Barber of Seville,” and Bonaparte never failed + to clap his hands in hearty applause to Hortense, when Josephine with + cheerful smiles would thank him, for she seemed as proud of her daughter’s + talent as of her husband’s applause. + </p> + <p> + Bourrienne, in his memoirs, gives a faithful description of those evening + theatrical performances, and of the happy life enjoyed in Malmaison; he + lingers with a sober joy over those beautiful and innocent memories of + other days. + </p> + <p> + “Bonaparte,” says he, “found great pleasure in our dramatic + entertainments; he loved to see comedies represented by those who + surrounded him, and oftentimes paid us flattering compliments. Though it + amused me as much as it did the others, yet I was more than once obliged + to call Bonaparte’s attention to the fact that my other occupations did + not give me time enough to learn my parts. He then, in his flattering way, + said: ‘Ah, Bourrienne, let me alone. You have so excellent a memory! You + know that this is an amusement to me! You see that these performances + enliven Malmaison and make it cheerful! Josephine is so fond of them! Rise + a little earlier!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It is a fact—I sleep a great deal!’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Allons, Bourrienne, do it to please me; you do make me laugh so + heartily! Deprive me not of this pleasure. You know well that otherwise I + have but few recreations.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah, parbleu! I will not deprive you of it. I am happy to be able to + contribute something to your amusement.’ Consequently I rose earlier, to + learn my parts. + </p> + <p> + “On the theatre days the company at Malmaison was always very large. After + the performance a brilliant crowd undulated like waves in the halls of the + first story. The most animated and varied conversation took place, and I + can truly affirm that cheerfulness and sincerity were the life of those + conversations, and their principal charm. Refreshments of all kinds were + distributed, and Josephine performed the honors of those gatherings with + so much amiableness and complacency that each one might believe she busied + herself more with him than with any one else. At the end of the delightful + soirees, which generally closed after midnight, we returned to Paris, + where the cares of life awaited us.” [Footnote: Bourrienne, “Memoires,” + vol. v., p. 26.] + </p> + <p> + Time was spent not only in festivities and amusements at Malmaison, but + sciences and arts also formed there a serious occupation, and it was + Josephine who was the prime mover. She invited to the chateau painters, + sculptors, musicians, architects, and savants of every profession, and + thus to the Graces she added the Arts for companions. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII. FLOWERS AND MUSIC. + </h2> + <p> + Above all things, Josephine, in her retreat, devoted her time and leisure + hours to botany and to her dear flowers. Alexander Lenoir, the famous + architect of that day, had to assist her in enlarging the little castle of + Malinaison, and to open more suitable halls for the arts and sciences. + Under Josephine’s direction there arose the splendid library-room resting + upon columns; it was Josephine who had the beautiful gallery of paintings + constructed, and also with remarkable judgment purchased a selection of + the finest paintings of the great masters to adorn this gallery. Besides + which, she gave to living painters orders of importance, and encouraged + them to originate new pieces, that art itself might have a part in the new + era of peace and prosperity, which, under the consulate, seemed to spread + over France. + </p> + <p> + Alongside of the paintings Josephine adorned this gallery with the finest + antique statues, with a collection of the rarest painted vases of Pompeii, + and with ten paintings on cement, memorials of Grecian art, representing + the nine Muses and Apollo Mersagetos. These last splendid subjects were a + present which the King of Naples had given to Josephine during her + residence in Italy. Always attentive not only to promote the arts, but + also to help the artists and to increase their reputation, Josephine would + buy some new pieces of sculpture, and give them a place in Malmaison. The + two most exquisite masterpieces of Canova, “The Dancing-Girl” and “Paris,” + were purchased by Josephine at an enormous price for her gallery, whose + chief ornament they were. + </p> + <p> + Her fondness for flowers was such that she spared neither expense nor + labor to procure those worthy of Malmaison. She caused also large + green-houses and hot-houses to be constructed, the latter suited to the + culture of the pineapple and of the peach. In the green-houses were found + flowers and plants of every zone, and of all countries. People, knowing + her taste for botany, sent her from the most remote places the choicest + plants. Even the prince regent of England, the most violent and bitter + enemy of the first consul, had high esteem for this taste of Josephine; + and during the war, when some French ships, captured by the English, were + found to have on board a collection of tropical plants for her, he had + them carried with all dispatch to Madame Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had a lofty aim: she wanted to gather into her hot-houses all + the species and families, all the varieties of the tropical plants, and + she strove to accomplish this with a perseverance, a zeal, and an + earnestness of which no one would have thought her indolent, soft Creole + nature capable. To increase her precious collection, she spared neither + money nor time, neither supplications nor efforts. All travellers, all + seafaring men, who came into her drawing-room were entreated to send + plants to Malmaison; and even the secretary of the navy did not fail to + give instructions to the captains of vessels sailing to far-distant lands + to bring back plants for the wife of the first consul. If it were a matter + of purchase, nothing was too expensive, and when, through her fondness for + beautiful objects, Josephine’s purse was exhausted, and her means + curtailed, she sooner gave up the purchase of a beautiful ornament than + that of a rare plant. + </p> + <p> + The hot-houses of Malmaison caused, therefore, a considerable increase in + her expenses, and were a heavy burden to her treasury; and for their sake, + when the day of payment came, Josephine had to receive from her husband + many severe reproaches, and was forced to shed many a bitter tear. But + this, perhaps, made them still dearer; no sooner were the tears dried up + and the expenses covered, than Josephine again abandoned herself with + renewed zeal to her passion for collecting plants and costly studies in + botany, especially since she had succeeded in winning to her person the + renowned botanist and learned Bonpland, and in having him appointed + superintendent of her gardens and hot-houses. It was Bonpland who + cultivated Josephine’s inclination for botany, and exalted her passion + into a science. He filled the green-houses of Malmaison with the rarest + plants, and taught Josephine at the same time their classifications and + sexes, and she quickly proved herself to be a zealous and tractable pupil. + She soon learned the names of the plants, as well as their family names, + as classified by the naturalists; she became acquainted with their origin + and their virtues, and was extremely sad and dejected when, in one of her + families, a single species was wanting. But what a joy when this gap was + filled! No price was too exorbitant, then, to procure the missing species; + and one day she paid for a small, insignificant plant from Chili the high + price of three thousand francs, filling Bonpland with ecstasy, but the + emperor with deep wrath as soon as he heard it. [Footnote: Avrillon, + “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine.”] + </p> + <p> + Next to botany, it was music which Josephine delighted in and cultivated. + Since the cares and the numerous relations of her diversified life claimed + so much of her time, she had abandoned the exercises of music; and it was + only at the hour of unusual serenity of mind, or of more lively + recollections of the past, that she was heard singing softly one of the + songs of her own native isle, even as Bonaparte himself, when he was + meditating and deciding about some new campaign, would betray the drift of + his thoughts by singing louder and louder the favorite melody of the day, + Marlborough s’en va-t-en guerre. But Josephine had the satisfaction that + Hortense was not only an excellent performer on the piano and the harp, + but that she could also write original compositions, whose softness and + harmonious combinations made them popular throughout France. Another + satisfaction was, that Eugene sang, in a fine clear voice, with great + talent, and that frequently he would by his excellent singing draw even + the first consul into loud expressions of admiration. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte was not easily satisfied as regards singing; it was seldom that + music elicited any commendation from him. The Italian music alone could + excite his enthusiasm, and through its impassioned fervor rouse him up, or + its humorous passages enliven him. Therefore Bonaparte, when consul or + emperor, always patronized the Italian music in preference to any other, + and he constantly and publicly expressed this liking, without considering + how much he might thereby wound the French artistes in their ambition and + love of fame. He therefore appointed an Italian to be first singer at the + opera. It is true this was Maestro Paesiello, whose operas were then + making their way through Europe, and everywhere meeting with approbation. + Bonaparte also was extremely fond of them, and at every opportunity he + manifested to the maestro his good-will and approbation. But one day this + commendation of Paesiello was changed to the most stinging censure. It was + on the occasion of the first representation of Paesiello’s Zingari in + Fiera. The first consul and his wife were in their loge, and to show to + the public how much he honored and esteemed the composer, he had invited + Paesiello to attend the performance in his loge. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte followed the performance with the most enthusiastic + demonstrations of gratification; he heartily applauded each part, and paid + to Paesiello compliments which were the more flattering since every one + knew that the lips which uttered them were not profuse in their use. A + tenor part had just ended, and its effect had been remarkable. The + audience was full of enthusiasm. Bonaparte, who by his hearty applause had + given the signal to a storm of cheers, turned toward Paesiello, and, + offering him his hand, exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “Truly, my dear friend, the man who has composed this melody can boast of + being the first composer in Europe!” + </p> + <p> + Paesiello became pale, his whole body trembled, and, with stammering + voice, he said: + </p> + <p> + “General, this melody is from Cimarosa. I have placed it in my opera + merely to please the singers.” + </p> + <p> + The first consul shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, my dear sir,” said he, “but I cannot recall what I have + said.” + </p> + <p> + The next day, however, he sent to the composer of the opera, as an + acknowledgment of his esteem, a magnificent present, with which he no + doubt wished to heal the pain which he had unwittingly caused the maestro. + But Paesiello possessed a temper easily wounded, and the more so since he + considered himself as the first and greatest composer in the world, and + was sincere in the opinion that others could compose good music, but that + his alone was grand and distinguished. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte’s present could not, therefore, heal the wound which the praise + of Cimarosa’s melody had inflicted, and this wound was soon to be probed + deeper, and become fatal to Paesiello. Another new opera from Paesiello, + Proserpina, was to be represented. The first consul, who was anxious to + secure for his protege a brilliant success, had given orders to bring it + out in the most splendid style; the most beautiful decorations and the + richest costumes had been provided, and a stage erected for a ballet, on + which the favorite ballet-leaders of Paris were to practise their art. + </p> + <p> + The mighty first consul was, on the evening of the first performance of + the opera of Proserpina, to learn the lesson, that there exists a power + which will not be bound in fetters, and which is stronger and more + influential than the dictates of the mighty—the power of public + opinion. This stood in direct opposition to the first consul, by the + voiceless, cold silence with which it received Paesiello’s piece. + Bonaparte might applaud as heartily as he pleased, and that might elicit + an echo from the group of his favorites, but the public remained unmoved, + and Bonaparte had the humiliation to see this opera, notwithstanding his + approbation, prove a complete failure. He felt as nervous and excited as + the composer himself, for he declared loudly and angrily that the French + knew nothing about music, and that it was necessary to teach them that the + Italians alone understood the art of composition. + </p> + <p> + To teach this to the French the opera of Proserpina was to be repeated + until the mind of the public should have been educated to its beauty, and + they had been forced to acknowledge it. A decided warfare ensued between + this opera and the public, each party being determined to have its own + way; the authorities persevered in having the performance repeated, and + the public kept away from it with equal obstinacy. The latter, however, + had the advantage in this case, for they could not be forced to attend + where they were unwilling to go, and so they won the victory, and the + authorities had to yield. + </p> + <p> + Paesiello, touched to the quick by the failure of Proserpina, resigned his + position as leader, and left Paris to return to Italy. The question now + was, how to fill this important and honorable position. The Parisians were + excited about this nomination, and divided into two parties, each of which + defended its candidate with the greatest zeal, and maintained that he + would be the one who would receive Bonaparte’s appointment. The candidates + of these two parties were the Frenchman Mehul and the Italian Cherubini. + Those who formed the party of Cherubini calculated especially on + Bonaparte’s well-known preference for Italian music. They knew that, + though he was much attached to Mehul, whom he had known before the + expedition to Egypt, and had shown him many favors, yet he had often + expressed his contempt for French music, and was committed against him by + the very fact of his maintaining that the Italians alone understood the + art of musical composition. + </p> + <p> + Mehul had for a long time endured in silence the criticisms of Bonaparte; + he had patiently returned no answer when he repeated to him: “Science, and + only science—that is all the French musicians understand; my dear + sir, grace, melody, and joyousness, are unknown to you Frenchmen and to + the Germans; the Italians alone are masters here.” + </p> + <p> + One day Mehul, having become tired of these constant discouraging remarks, + resolved to let the first consul, who so often gave him bitter pills to + swallow, have a taste of them himself. + </p> + <p> + He went, therefore, to his friend, the poet Marsollier, and begged him to + write an extremely lively and extravagant piece, whose design would be + absurd enough to make it pass as the work of some Italian pamphlet-writer, + and at the same time he enjoined the most profound secrecy. + </p> + <p> + Marsollier complied willingly with the wishes of his friend, and after a + few days he brought him the text for the small opera Irato. With the same + alacrity did Mehul sit down to the task of composing, and when the work + was done, Marsollier went to the committee of the comic opera to tell them + he had just received from Italy a score whose music was so extraordinary + that he was fully convinced of its success, and had therefore been to the + trouble, notwithstanding the weakness and foolishness of the libretto, to + translate the text into French. The committee tried the score, was + enchanted with the music, and was fully convinced of the brilliant success + of the little opera, inasmuch as the strange and lively text was well + adapted to excite the hilarity and the merriment of the public. The first + singers of the opera were rivals for the parts; all the newspapers + published the pompous advertisement that in a short time would be + performed at the Opera Comique a charming, entrancing opera, the maiden + piece of a young Italian. + </p> + <p> + Finally its first performance was announced; the first consul declared + that he and his wife would attend, and he invited Mehul, whom he liked to + tease and worry, because he loved him from his heart, to attend the + performance in his loge. + </p> + <p> + “It will undoubtedly be a mortification to you, my poor friend,” said he, + laughing; “but perhaps when you hear this enchanting music, so different + from that of the French, you will imitate it, and cease composing.” + </p> + <p> + Mehul replied with a bow; he then began to excuse himself from + accompanying the first consul to the theatre; and it was only after + Bonaparte and Josephine had pressed him very much, that he accepted the + invitation, and went with them to their loge. + </p> + <p> + The opera began, and, immediately after the first melody, Bonaparte + applauded and expressed his admiration. There never had been any thing + more charming—never had the French written music with so much + freshness, elegance, or so naturally. Bonaparte continued his praise, and + often-times repeated: “It is certain there is nothing superior to Italian + music.” + </p> + <p> + At last the opera ended amid a real storm of applause; and, with their + enthusiasm at the highest pitch, the audience claimed to know the names of + the poet and of the composer. After a long pause the curtain rose and the + registrar appeared; he made the three customary bows, and in a loud voice + named Marsollier as the author and Mehul as the composer of the opera + Irato. + </p> + <p> + The audience received this news with an unceasing storm of applause. They, + like the consul and the singers who had taken part in the opera, knew + nothing of the mystification, so well had the secret been kept. + </p> + <p> + Josephine turned smilingly to Bonaparte, and with her own charming grace + offered her hand to Mehul and thanked him for the twofold enjoyment he had + that day prepared for her, by furnishing her his entrancing opera, and by + having prepared a little defeat of Bonaparte, that traitor to his country, + who dared prefer the Italian music to the French. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte himself looked at the affair on its bright side; he had enjoyed + the opera; he had laughed; he was satisfied, and consequently he + overlooked the deceitful surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Conquer me always in this manner!” said he, laughing, to Mehul, “and I + shall enjoy both your fame and my amusement.” + </p> + <p> + The friends of Cherubini thought of this little event when the question + arose as to the appointment to the situation of first singer at the Grand + Opera, and they therefore did not hesitate to wager that Cherubini would + be appointed, since he was an Italian. + </p> + <p> + But they knew not that Bonaparte had pardoned Mehul, and frequently joked + with him, whilst he ever grumbled at Cherubini on account of an expression + which the latter had once allowed himself to use against General + Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had conversed with Cherubini after a representation of one of + his operas, and, while he congratulated him, he however added that this + opera did not please him as much as the other pieces of Cherubini—that + he thought it somewhat sober and scientific, and that he missed in it the + accustomed richness of the maestro’s melodies. This criticism wounded + Cherubini as if pierced by a dagger, and with the irritable vehemence of + an Italian he replied: + </p> + <p> + “General, busy yourself in winning battles—that is your trade; but + leave me to practise mine, about which you know nothing.” + </p> + <p> + The Consul Bonaparte had neither forgotten nor pardoned Cherubini’s + answer; and, despite his fondness for Italian music, he was resolved to + give to Mehul the position vacated by Paesiello. + </p> + <p> + Josephine approved entirely of this choice, and, in order to witness + Mehul’s joy, she invited him to Malmaison, that the consul might there + inform him of his appointment. How great, however, was her and Bonaparte’s + surprise, when Mehul, instead of being delighted with this distinguished + appointment, positively refused to accept it! + </p> + <p> + “I can accept this position only under one condition,” said Mehul, “which + is, that I may be allowed to divide it with my friend Cherubini.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak to me about him,” exclaimed Bonaparte, with animation; “he + is a coarse man, and I cannot tolerate him.” + </p> + <p> + “He may have had the misfortune to displease you,” replied Mehul, eagerly, + “but he is a master to us all, and especially as regards sacred music. He + now is in a very inferior position; he has a large family, and I sincerely + desire to reconcile him to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I repeat to you that I do not wish to know any thing about him.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case I must decline the position,” said Mehul, gravely, “and + nothing will alter my resolution. I am a member of the Institute—Cherubini + is not; I do not wish it to be said that I have misused the good-will with + which you honor me for the sake of confiscating to my profit every + situation, and of despoiling a man of reputation of the reward to which he + is most justly entitled.” + </p> + <p> + And Mehul, notwithstanding Josephine’s intercession and Bonaparte’s + ill-will, remained firm in his decision; he would not accept the honorable + and distinguished position of first singer at the Grand Opera; and + Bonaparte, after expressing his determination, would not change it. + Neither would he confer upon Cherubini the honor refused by Mehnl. He + therefore commissioned Josephine to name a successor to Paesiello; and she + went to Madame de Montesson, to confer with her on the matter. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Montesson could suggest no definite plan, but she told Josephine + of a French composer, of the name of Lesueur, who, notwithstanding his + great talents, lived in his native city of Paris poor and unknown, and who + had not succeeded in having his opera, “The Bards,” represented at the + Grand Opera, simply on the ground that he was a Frenchman, and that every + one knew Bonaparte’s strange aversion to French music. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s generous heart at once took sides with Lesueur; her exquisite + tact taught her that the public ought to know that the first consul would + not consult his own personal gratification, when the question was to + render justice to a Frenchman. She therefore recommended to her husband, + with all her ability, the poor composer Lesueur, who was unknown to fame, + and lost in obscurity; she represented his appointment as such an act of + generosity and of policy, that Bonaparte acceded to her wishes at once, + and appointed Lesueur to the office of first master of the Grand Opera. + </p> + <p> + And Josephine had the pleasure of seeing that the new opera-leader + justified her expectations. His opera, “The Bards,” was naturally brought + into requisition; it had a brilliant and unexampled success, and even + Bonaparte, at the first representation, forgot his prejudices against + French music, and applauded quite as heartily as if it had been Italian. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. PRELUDE TO THE EMPIRE. + </h2> + <p> + The sun of happiness which for Josephine seemed to shine so brightly over + Malmaison, had nevertheless its long shadows and its dark specks; even her + gracious countenance was obscured, her heart filled with sad forebodings, + and her bosom stung as if by scorpions hidden under flowers. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had in her immediate circle violent and bitter enemies, who were + ever busy in undermining the influence which she possessed over her + husband, to steal from his heart the love he cherished for her, and to + remove from his side the woman who, by her presence, kept them in the + shade, and who wielded or destroyed the influence which they desired to + have over him. + </p> + <p> + These enemies were the brothers and especially the sisters of Bonaparte. + Among the brothers of the first consul, Lucien showed to his sister-in-law + the most violent and irreconcilable enmity. He left no means untried to do + her injury, and to convert her into an object of suspicion, and this + because he was convinced that Josephine was the prime cause of the hostile + sentiments of Napoleon against him, and because he believed that, + Josephine once out of the way, Napoleon’s ear would be open to conviction, + and that he, Lucien, the most powerful citizen, next to his brother, would + be the second “first consul.” He was not aware that Napoleon’s keen eagle + eye had fathomed his ambitious heart; that he was the one who kept Lucien + away, because he mistrusted him, because he feared his ambition, and even + looked upon him as capable of the bold design of casting Napoleon aside, + and setting himself up in his place. Lucien was unaware of the influence + which Josephine frequently exerted over the mind of the first consul, in + favor of himself; that it was she who had pacified Napoleon’s anger at + Lucien’s marriage, contracted without his consent, and prevented him from + annulling it violently. The other brothers of Napoleon, influenced, + perhaps, by the enmity of Lucien, were also disaffected toward their + sister-in-law, and of them all, only Louis, the youngest, the one who + loved the first consul most tenderly and most sincerely, showed toward her + due respect and affection. + </p> + <p> + His three sisters were still more active in their opposition. Constantly + quarrelling among themselves, they, however, united heartily in the common + feeling of hatred to Josephine. It was she who stood in their way, who + every day excited anew their anger by the position she held at Napoleon’s + side, and in virtue of which the three sisters were thrust into the + background. Josephine, the wife of the first consul, was the one to whom + France made obeisance, upon whom the ambassadors of foreign powers first + waited, and afterward upon the sisters of the first consul. It was + Josephine who took the precedence in solemn ceremonies, and to whom, by + Bonaparte’s commands, they had to manifest respect. And this woman, who by + her eminence placed the sisters of Bonaparte in an inferior position, was + not of nobler or more distinguished blood than they; she was not young, + she was not beautiful, she was not even able to give birth to a child, for + which her husband so intensely longed. + </p> + <p> + The three sisters might have been submissive to the daughter of a prince, + they might have conceded to her the right of precedence, but the widow of + the Viscount de Beauharnais was not superior to them in rank or birth; she + was far inferior to them in beauty and youth—and yet they had to + give way to her, and see her take the first place! + </p> + <p> + From these sentiments of jealousy and envy sprang the enmity which the + three sisters of Bonaparte, Madame Elise Bacciocchi, Madame Pauline + Borghese, and Madame Caroline Murat, cherished against Josephine, and + which her gentle words and kind heart could never assuage. + </p> + <p> + Josephine was in their way—she must therefore fall. Such is the key + to the right understanding of the conduct of the three beautiful sisters + of Napoleon toward the wife of their brother. In their violence they + disregarded all propriety, and shrank from no calumny or malice to + accomplish their ends. It was a constant warfare with intrigues and + malicious suspicions. Every action of Josephine was observed, every step + was watched, in the hope of finding something to render her suspicious to + her husband. On every occasion the three sisters besieged him with + complaints concerning the lofty and proud demeanor of Josephine, and + ridiculed him about his old, childless wife, who stood in the way of his + growing fame! Though Bonaparte in these conflicts always sided with + Josephine against his sisters, yet there probably remained in his heart a + sting from the ridicule which they had directed against him. + </p> + <p> + This hostility of the Bonaparte family was not unknown to Josephine; her + soul suffered under these ceaseless attacks, her heart was agonized at the + thought that the efforts of her sisters-in-law might finally succeed in + withdrawing from her the love of her husband. She was persuaded that even + in the Bonaparte family she needed a protector, that she must look for one + among the brothers, so as to counteract the enmity of the sisters; and she + chose for this Louis Bonaparte. She entreated Napoleon to give to his + young, beloved brother the hand of her daughter Hortense. It would be a + new bond chaining Bonaparte to her—a new fortress for her love—if + he would but make her daughter his sister-in-law, and his brother her + son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon did not oppose her wishes; he consented that Hortense should be + married to his brother. It is true the young people were not consulted; + for the first time, Josephine’s selfishness got the better of her love for + her child—she sacrificed the welfare of her daughter to secure her + own happiness. + </p> + <p> + But Hortense loved another, yet she yielded to the entreaties and tears of + her mother, and became the wife of this laconic, timid young man, whose + meagre, unpretending appearance resembled so little the ideal which her + maidenly heart had pictured of her future husband. + </p> + <p> + Louis on his side had not the slightest inclination for Hortense; he never + would have chosen her for his wife, for their characters were too + different; their inclinations and wishes were not in sympathy with each + other. But through obedience to the wishes of his brother, he accepted the + proffered hand of Josephine’s daughter, and became the husband of the + beautiful, blond-haired Hortense de Beauharnais. + </p> + <p> + In February, of the year 1802, the marriage of the young couple took + place, and this family event was celebrated with the most magnificent + festivities. Josephine’s joy and happiness were complete—she had + thrown a bridge over the abyss, and was now secure against the hostilities + of her sisters-in-law, by giving up her own daughter. + </p> + <p> + Every thing was resplendent with beauty and joy at these festivities; + every thing wore an appearance of happiness; only the countenances of the + newly-married couple were grave and sad, and their deep melancholy + contrasted strikingly with the happiness of which they themselves were the + cause. Adorned with diamonds and flowers, Hortense appeared to be a + stranger to all the pomp which surrounded her, and to be occupied only + with her own sad communings. Louis Bonaparte was pale and grave, like + Hortense; he seldom addressed a word to the young wife that the orders of + his brother had given him; and she avoided her husband’s looks, perhaps to + hinder him from reading there the indifference and dislike she felt for + him. [Footnote: “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine, la Cour de + Navarre,” etc., par Mlle. Ducrest, vol. i., p. 49.] + </p> + <p> + But Josephine was happy, for she knew the noble, faithful, and generous + spirit of the man to whom she had given her daughter; and she trusted that + the two young hearts, now that they were linked together, would soon love + one another. She hoped much more from this alliance; she hoped not only to + find in it a shield against domestic animosities, but also to give to her + husband, even if indirectly, the children he so much desired—for the + offspring of his brother and the daughter of his Josephine would be nearly + the same as his own, and they could adopt and love them as such. This was + Josephine’s hope, the dream of her happiness, when she gave her daughter + in marriage to the brother of her husband. + </p> + <p> + The fact that the first consul was childless was not only a family + solicitude, it was also a political question. The people themselves had + changed the face of affairs, they had by solemn vote decided to confer the + consulate for life upon Napoleon, who had previously been elected for ten + years only. In other words, the French people had chosen Bonaparte for + their master and ruler, and he now lacked but the title to be king. Every + one felt and knew that this consulate for life was but the prelude to + royalty; that the golden laurel-wreath of the first consul would soon be + converted into a golden crown, so as to secure to France an enduring + peace, and to make firm its political situation. + </p> + <p> + With her keen political instinct, Josephine trembled at the thought that + the King or Emperor Bonaparte would have to establish for himself a + dynasty—that he would have to appease the apprehensions of France by + offering to the nation a son who would be his legitimate heir and + successor. Thus was the subject of divorce kept hanging over her head + until the conviction was forced upon her mind that some day Napoleon would + be led into sacrificing his love to politics. Josephine was conscious of + it, and consequently the hopes of Napoleon’s future greatness, which so + pleased his brothers and sisters, only made her sorrowful, and she + therefore entreated Bonaparte with tender appeal to remain content with + the high dignity he already possessed, and not to tempt fate, nor to allow + it to bear him up to a dizzy height, from which the stormy winds of + adversity might the more easily prostrate him. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte listened to her with a smile, and generally in silence. Once + only he replied to her: “Has not your prophetess in Martinique told you + that one day you would be more than a queen?” + </p> + <p> + “And the prophecy is already realized,” exclaimed Josephine. “The wife of + the consul for life is more than a queen, for her husband is the elect of + thirty millions of hearts!” Bonaparte laughed, and said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Another time Josephine asked him—“Now, Bonaparte, when are you going + to make me Empress of the Gauls?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. “What an idea,” said he; “the little Josephine + an empress!” + </p> + <p> + Josephine answered him with the words of Corneille—“‘Le premier qui + fut roi fut un soldat heureux’” (the first king was a successful soldier); + and she added, “The wife of this fortunate soldier shares his rank.” + </p> + <p> + He placed his small, white hand, adorned with rings, under her chin, and + gazed at her with a deep, strange look. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Josephine,” said he, after a short pause, “your successful soldier + is only, for the present, consul for life, and you are sharing his rank. + Be careful, then, that the wife of the first consul surrounds herself with + all the brilliancy and the pomp which beseem her dignity. No more economy, + no more modest simplicity! The industry of France is at a low ebb—we + must make it rise. We must give receptions; we must prove to France that + the court of a consul can be as splendid as that of a king. You understand + what pomp is—none better than you! Now show yourself brilliant, + magnificent, so that the other ladies may imitate you. But, no foreign + stuffs! Silk and velvet from the fabrics of Lyons!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Josephine, with charming tenderness, “and when afterward my + bills become due, you cut them down—you find them too high.” + </p> + <p> + “I only cut down what is too exorbitant,” said Bonaparte, laughing. “I + have no objection for you to give to the manufacturers any amount of work + and profit, but I do not wish them to cheat you.” [Footnote: Abrantes, + “Memoires” vol. iv.] + </p> + <p> + Henceforth, the consulate began gradually to exhibit a splendor and pomp + which were behind no princely court, and which relegated, amid the dark + legends of the fabulous past, the fraternity and the equality of the + republic. The absence of pretension, and the simplicity of Malmaison, were + now done away with; everywhere the consul for life was followed by the + splendors of his dignity, and everywhere Josephine was accompanied by her + court. + </p> + <p> + For now she had a court, and an anteroom, with all its intrigues and + flatteries; and its conspiracies already wove their chains around the + consul and his wife. It was not suddenly, it was not spontaneously, that + this court of the first consul was formed; two years were required for its + organization—two years of unceasing labor on the new code of + regulations, which etiquette dictated from the remembrances of the past to + the palace-officers of the Consul Bonaparte. “How was this in times past? + What was the practice?” Such were the constant questions in the interior + of the Tuileries, and for the answers they appealed to Madame de + Montesson, to the old courtiers, the servants and adherents of royalty. + Instead of creating every thing new, they turned by degrees to the usages + and manners of the past. Always and in all countries have there been seen + at courts caricatures and persons of ill-mannered awkwardness; at the + opening of the court of the first consul it is probable that these + existed, and appeared still more strange to those who had been used to the + manners, traditions, and language of the ancient court of Versailles. + Their awkwardness, however, was soon overcome; and Josephine understood so + well the rare art of presiding at a court establishment—she was such + an accomplished mistress of refined manners and of noble deportment—she + united to the perfect manners of the old nobility the most exquisite + adroitness, and she knew so well how to adapt all these advantages to + every new circumstance—that soon every one bowed to her sovereignty + and submitted to her laws. + </p> + <p> + From the glittering halls of the Tuileries there soon disappeared the + sword and the uniform, to be replaced by the gold-embroidered dress, the + silk stockings, and the chapeau bras; and on the glassy floors of the + Tuileries generals and marshals appeared as fine cavaliers, who, + submitting to the rules of etiquette, left behind with their regiments the + coarse language of the camp. Many of these young generals and heroes had + married the beautiful but impoverished daughters of the aristocrats of old + monarchical France. These young women, who were the representatives of the + ancient noblesse, brought to the Tuileries the traditions of their + mothers, and distinguished themselves by the ease of their courtly + deportment and their graceful manners; and they thus unconsciously became + the teachers of the other young women, who, like their husbands, owed + their aristocratic name only to the sword and to their fresh laurels, and + not to ancient escutcheons. + </p> + <p> + In the Tuileries and in St. Cloud there were reception-days, + audience-days, and great and small levees, at which were assembled all + that France possessed of rank, name, and fame, and where the ambassadors + of all the powers accredited at the court of the consul, where all the + higher clergy and the pope’s nuncio, appeared in full dress. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte ventured to remove still further from the landmarks of the + revolution, and from its so-called conquests. He restored to France the + church; he reopened the temples of religion, and he also gave back to the + people their priests. + </p> + <p> + Just as in the days of old monarchical France, every Sunday, and at every + festival, a solemn mass was said at St. Cloud; and in the glass gallery on + the way to the chapel, Bonaparte received petitions and granted short + audiences. France, with the instinct of its old inclinations and habits, + readily returned to this new order of things; and even those who once had + with enthusiasm saluted the Goddess of Reason, went now, with hands joined + in prayer and eyes bent low, to Notre Dame, to offer again their + supplications to the God of Love. + </p> + <p> + Every thing seemed to return to the old track, every thing was as in the + days preceding the revolution—the re-establishment of the throne, + the national, willing approbation that the republic had become a monarchy, + was, however, still wanting. + </p> + <p> + Finally, on the 18th of May, 1804, France spoke out the decisive word, + and, by the voice of its representatives the senators, it offered to + Bonaparte the crown, and requested him to ascend as emperor the throne of + France. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon acceded to these wishes, and, as the senate, in a ceremonious + procession, marshalled by Cambaceres, came to St. Cloud to communicate to + Bonaparte the wish of France, and to offer to him and to Josephine the + dignities of an empire, he accepted it without surprise, and apparently + without joy, and allowed himself to be proclaimed NAPOLEON, THE FIRST + EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH. + </p> + <p> + On this memorable day, after Cambaceres, in the name of the senate and of + France, had addressed the first consul as the actual emperor, he turned to + Josephine, who, with that unparalleled admixture of grandeur, grace, and + tender womanly beauty, which were all so especially her own, was present + at this audience at Napoleon’s side. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” said Cambaceres, “there remains yet to the senate a pleasant + duty to perform: to bring to your imperial majesty the homage of its + respect and the expression of gratitude of the French people. Yes, madame, + the public sentiment acknowledges the good which you are ever performing; + that you are always accessible to the unfortunate; that you use your + influence with the chief magistrate only to diminish evil, and to procure + a hearing to those who seek it; and that your majesty with this well-doing + combines the most amiable tenderness, rendering thankfulness a pleasant + duty. These noble qualities of your majesty foretell that the name of the + Empress Josephine will be a watchword of trust and hope; and, as the + virtues of Napoleon will ever be to his followers an example to teach them + the difficult art of government, so also, the lively remembrance of your + goodness will teach to their honorable wives that to strive to dry the + tear is the surest means of ruling the heart. The senate deems itself + happy in being the first to congratulate your imperial majesty, and he who + has the honor of addressing you these sentiments in the name of the + senate, dares trust that you will ever number him among your most faithful + servants.” + </p> + <p> + It was, then, decided! France had accepted her master, and Cambaceres in + his solemn address had already marked out the situation of France and of + her rulers. Bonaparte and Josephine were now their imperial majesties, the + senators were their most faithful servants. What remained to the people + but to call themselves “faithful subjects?” + </p> + <p> + The people, however, had made known their wishes only through the voice of + the senate; it was the senators who had converted Bonaparte into the + Emperor Napoleon; but the people were also to make their will known in a + solemn manner; they were, through a universal public suffrage, to decide + whether the imperial dignity should be given only for life to Napoleon the + First, Emperor of the French, or whether it should be hereditary in his + family. + </p> + <p> + France, wearied with storms and divisions, decided with her five millions + of votes for the hereditary imperial dignity in Bonaparte’s family, and + thus the people of France created their fourth dynasty. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Josephine received this new decision of the nation, not with + that disquietude and care which she had formerly experienced. Bonaparte + had given her the deepest and strongest proof of his love and + faithfulness. He had not only withstood the pressure of his whole family, + which had conjured him before his election to the empire to be divorced + from his childless wife, but he had in the generosity of his love + appointed his heirs and successors, and these were to be the sons of + Hortense. The senate had decreed that the imperial dignity should be + transmitted as a heritage to Napoleon’s two brothers Joseph and Louis, and + moreover they had given to Napoleon the right to choose his successors and + heirs from the families of the two brothers. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon had given to Josephine the strongest proof of affection—he + had declared the son of her daughter Hortense and of his brother Louis, + the little Napoleon Louis, to be his successor and heir, and the idea of a + divorce no longer caused apprehensions before which Josephine need + tremble. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte had appointed the sons of his brother and of Josephine’s + daughter as his heirs, and the heir of the new imperial throne was already + born. Hortense’s youth made it hopeful that she would add to the new + branch of the Napoleonic dynasty new leaves and new boughs. + </p> + <p> + Josephine could now rejoice in her happiness and her glory; she could + abandon herself to the new splendors of her life with all the enjoyment of + her sensitive and excitable nature. She could now receive with smiles and + with affable condescension the homage of France, for she was not only + empress by a nation’s vote, but she was also empress by the choice of + Napoleon her husband. + </p> + <p> + The brilliancy of this new and glorious horizon was soon overhung by a + sombre cloud. The execution of the Duke d’Enghien threw its dark shadows + from the last days of the consulate upon the truly royalist heart of + Josephine; and now that heart was to receive fresh wounds through the + royalists, to whom she had remained true with all the memories of youth, + and in whose behalf she had so often, so zealously, and so warmly + interceded with her husband. + </p> + <p> + A new conspiracy against Napoleon’s life was discovered, and this time it + was the men of the highest ranks of the old aristocracy who were + implicated in it. George Cadoudal, the unwearied conspirator, had, while + in England, planned with the leaders of the monarchical party residing in + France, or who were away from it, a new conspiracy, whose object was to + destroy Bonaparte and to re-establish the monarchy. + </p> + <p> + But Fate was again on the side of the hero of Arcola. His good star still + protected him. The conspiracy was discovered, and all those concerned in + it were arrested. Among them were the Generals Pichegru and Moreau, the + Counts de Polignac, Riviere, Saint Coster, Charles d’Hozier, and many + others of the leading and most distinguished royalists. They were now + under the avenging sword of justice, and the tribunal had condemned twenty + of the accused to death, among whom were the above named. The emperor + alone had the power to save them and to extend mercy. But he was this time + determined to exhibit a merciless severity, so as to put an end to the + royalists, and to prove to them that he was the ruler of France, and that + the people without a murmur had given him the power to punish, as guilty + of high-treason, those who dared touch their emperor. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s heart, however, remained true to her memories and her piety; + and, according to her judgment, those who, with so much heroic loyalty, + remained true to the exiled monarchy, were criminals only as they had + imperilled her husband’s life, but criminals who, since their plans were + destroyed, deserved pardon, because they had sinned through devotion to + sacred principles. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, opposed Bonaparte’s anger, and begged for pardon for + the son of the former friend of Queen Marie Antoinette, the Count Jules de + Polignac. Bonaparte, however, remained inexorable; he repelled Josephine + with vehemence, reproaching her for asking for the life of those who + threatened his. But she would not be deterred; since Bonaparte had turned + her away with her petitions and prayers, she wanted at least to give to + the wife of the Count de Polignac an opportunity to ask pardon for her + condemned husband. Despite Bonaparte’s wrath, Josephine led the Countess + de Polignac into a corridor through which the emperor had to pass, when he + went from the council-room into his cabinet, and by this means the + countess was fortunate enough, by her tears and prayers, to save her + husband’s life. The Count de Polignac was pardoned; and now that + Bonaparte’s heart had once been opened to mercy, he also granted to + Josephine the lives of Count Riviere and of General Lajolais, in behalf of + whom Hortense had appealed to the emperor. More than twenty of the + conspirators were accused and sentenced, some to death and some to severe + punishment, but one-half of the accused were, thanks to the prayers of + Josephine and of her daughter, pardoned; a few were put to death, and the + rest transported. Pichegru committed suicide in prison; Moreau received + permission to emigrate to America; George Cadoudal perished on the + scaffold. + </p> + <p> + After this last fruitless attempt to re-establish in France the throne of + the Bourbons, the royalists, wearied and terrified, had at least for a + time to withdraw into obscurity and solitude, and the newly-established + empire appeared in still more striking magnificence. The monarchy by God’s + grace had been conquered by the empire by the people’s grace, and Napoleon + wanted now to show himself to astonished Europe in all the glory of his + new dignity. He therefore undertook a journey with his wife through the + conquered German provinces; he went to Aix-la-Chapelle, to the city of + coronation of the ancient German emperors, and which now belonged to + imperial France; he went to Mayence, the golden Mayence of the old Roman + days, and which now, after so many streams of bloodshed, had been + transferred to France. + </p> + <p> + This journey of the emperor and empress was one uninterrupted triumphal + procession; the population of the old German city applauded, in + dishonorable faithlessness, the new foreign ruler; all the clergy received + their imperial majesties at the door of the cathedral, where Germany’s + first emperor, Charlemagne, was buried; and, to flatter the Empress + Josephine, the clergy caused a miracle to be performed by her hand. There + existed in the sacred treasury of the cathedral a casket of gold, + containing the most precious relics, but which was never opened to the + eyes of mortals, and whose lock no key fitted. Only once a year was this + precious, sacred casket of relics shown to the worshipping crowd, and then + locked up in the holy shrine. But for Josephine this treasury was + condescendingly opened, and to the empress was presented this casket of + relics, and behold, the miracle took place! At the touch of the empress + the lid of the casket sprang up, and in it were seen the most precious + jewels of royalty, amongst which was the seal-ring of Charlemagne. + [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii.] No one was more surprised at + this miracle than the clergy! + </p> + <p> + The neighboring German princes came to ancient Mayence to do homage to + Josephine, and to win the favor of the sovereign of France toward their + little principalities, and to assure him of their devotedness. Bonaparte + already understood how to receive the humble, flattering German princes + with the mien of a gracious protector, and to look upon them with the eye + of an emperor, to whom not only the nations but also the princes must bow; + and Josephine also excited the admiration of genuine princes and + legitimate princesses, by the graciousness and grandeur, by the unaffected + dignity and ease with which she knew how to represent the sovereign and + the empress. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIX. THE POPE IN PARIS. + </h2> + <p> + Fate had reserved another triumph for the ruler of France, the Emperor + Napoleon—the triumph that the empire by the people’s grace should be + converted and exalted into the empire by God’s grace. Pope Pius VII., full + of thankfulness that Napoleon had re-established the Church in France, and + restored to the clergy their rights, had consented to come to Paris for + the sake of giving to the empire, created by the will of the French + people, the benediction of the Church, and in solemn coronation to place + the imperial crown on the head anointed by the hands of God’s vice-gerent. + </p> + <p> + Bonaparte received this news with the lofty composure of an emperor who + finds it quite natural that the whole world should bow to his wishes, and + Josephine received it with the modesty and joyous humility of a pious + Christian. She desired above all things the blessing of God and of the + Church to rest upon this crown, whose possession had seemed to her until + now a spoliation, a sacrilege, and about which her conscience so often + reproached her. But when God’s vicegerent, when the Holy Father of + Christendom should himself have blessed her husband’s crown, and should + have made fast on Josephine’s brow the imperial diadem, then all blame was + removed, then the empress could hope that Heaven’s blessing would + accompany the new emperor and his wife! + </p> + <p> + But was it really Napoleon’s wish that Josephine should take part in this + grand ceremony of coronation? Did he wish that, like him, she should + receive from the hands of the pope the consecrated crown? + </p> + <p> + Such was the deep, important question which occupied, at the approaching + arrival of the pope, the young imperial court; a question, too, which + occupied Josephine’s mind, and also the whole family, and more especially + the sisters of Bonaparte. + </p> + <p> + Josephine naturally desired that it should be so, for this solemn + coronation would be a new bond uniting her to her husband, a new guaranty + against the evil which the empress’s foreboding spirit still dreaded. But + for the very same reasons her enemies prepared their weapons to prevent + Josephine from obtaining this new consecration and this new glory, and + harsh and bitter conflicts took place within the inner circles of the + imperial family on account of it, which on both sides were carried on with + the deepest animosity and obstinacy, but finally to a complete triumph for + Josephine. + </p> + <p> + Thiers, in his “History of the Consulate and of the Empire,” relates the + last scenes in this family quarrel: + </p> + <p> + “Napoleon vacillated between his affection for his wife and the secret + presentiments of his policy, when an occurrence took place which nearly + caused the sudden ruin of the unfortunate Josephine. Every one was in a + state of agitation about the new monarch—brothers, sisters, and + allies! In the solemnity which seemed to give to each a blessing, all + desired to perform parts adequate to their actual pretensions, and to + their hopes of the future. At the sight of this restlessness, and + witnessing the pretensions and claims to which Napoleon was exposed from + one of his sisters, Josephine, carried away by anxiety and jealousy, gave + utterance to an insulting suspicion against his sister and against + Napoleon, a suspicion which agreed with the most bitter calumnies of the + royalist emigrants. Napoleon grew violently angry, and, as his wrath + mastered his better feelings, he declared to Josephine that he wanted to + be divorced from her; that he would have to be, sooner or later, and that + it was therefore better to announce it on the spot, before other bonds + should unite them still closer together. He sent for his two adopted + children, communicated to them this decision, and thus produced on them a + most painful impression. Hortense and Eugene de Beauharnais declared with + a sad but unwavering determination that they would follow their mother + into the exile which was being prepared for her. Josephine manifested a + resigned and dignified sorrow. The contrast of their sorrow with the + satisfaction which the other portion of the imperial family manifested, + deeply lacerated Napoleon’s heart, and he relented; for he could not + consent to see the companion of his youth and her children, who had been + the objects of his deserved affection, made so unhappy by being forced + into exile. He took Josephine in his arms, told her with emotion that he + could never have the strength to part from her, even if policy itself + should dictate it; and he then promised her that she should be crowned + with him, and at his side should receive from the pope the divine + blessing.” [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire.” vol. + v., p. 249.] + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, had won a victory over the hostile sisters, but this + defeat made them still more embittered, and though they were now compelled + to recognize Josephine as the imperial wife of their brother, yet they + would retreat only step by step, and at “least secure a place near the + imperial throne, and not be compelled by the empress to stand behind. Yet + this was exactly what was to take place according to the programme, which + prescribed for the festivity in Notre Dame that on the day of coronation + the brothers of the emperor should carry the trail of his mantle, and that + his sisters should at the same time carry the trail of the empress’s + mantle. But the sisters of Napoleon decidedly opposed this arrangement. + </p> + <p> + “The emperor, tired of these constant wranglings and domestic strifes, + decided as judge, and declared he would no longer listen to these + unheard-of and unjustifiable pretensions. + </p> + <p> + “‘Truly,’ said he, to the beautiful Pauline, who, as Princess Borghese, + considered herself justified in making opposition, ‘truly, one would + think, after listening to you, that I have despoiled you of the + inheritance of the most blessed king our father.’” [Footnote: “Histoire du + Consulat,” vol. v., p. 251.] + </p> + <p> + The ambitious sisters, kept within bounds by the angry voice of their + brother, who now for the first time showed himself their ruling emperor, + had to fall into their places, and abide by the regulations of the + ceremony. + </p> + <p> + Nothing was wanted now to perfect the sacred celebration which was to + crown all the triumphs and victories of Napoleon, nothing but the arrival + of the pope: the whole imperial family, as well as France, awaited his + advent with impatience. + </p> + <p> + At last the couriers brought the news that the pope had touched the French + soil, and that the people were streaming toward him to manifest their + respect, and to implore his blessing on their knees; the same people who + precisely ten years before had closed the churches, driven the priests + into exile, and consecrated their bacchanalian worship to the Goddess of + Reason! + </p> + <p> + At last, on the 25th day of November, the pope entered Fontainebleau, + where the emperor and the empress had hastened to receive him. No sooner + was the pope’s approach announced, than Napoleon mounted his horse and + rode to meet him some distance on the way. In the centre of the road took + place the first interview between the representative of Christendom and + the youngest son of the Church, a son who now sat on the throne of those + who in former times had enjoyed the privilege of being called the elder + sons of the Church. + </p> + <p> + The pope alighted from his carriage as soon as the emperor was in sight; + Napoleon dismounted and hastened to meet and embrace tenderly his + holiness, and then to ascend with him the carriage, the question of + precedence remaining undecided, as the pope and the emperor entered the + carriage at the same time from opposite sides. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, surrounded by the official dignitaries, the ministers of state, + and all the generals, received the pope under the peristyle of the palace + of Fontainebleau; and then, after Napoleon had led him into his room, + Josephine, accompanied by her ladies, went to welcome Pius, not as + empress, but as an humble, devout daughter of the Church, who wished to + implore a blessing from the Holy Father of Christendom. Josephine was + deeply moved; her whole being was agitated and exalted at once by this + greatest of all the privileges which destiny had reserved for her, and by + this consecration which she was to receive at the hands of the vicar of + Christ. + </p> + <p> + As the pope, agreeably affected by this respect and emotion of the + empress, offered her his hand with a genial smile, Josephine, humble as a + little girl, sank down on her knees before him, kissed his hand, and with + streaming eyes implored his benediction. Pius, in his soft, winning + manner, promised to love her as a daughter, and that she should ever find + in him a father. + </p> + <p> + The empress, deeply moved by this affectionate condescension of the pope, + and impressed by the importance and solemnity of the moment, bade her + ladies withdraw, whilst she, in solitude and silence, as a confessing + child before the priest, should unveil her innermost heart to the Holy + Father. She then sank down upon her knees, and, stammering, ashamed, with + her voice broken by her sobs, acknowledged to the pope that her marriage + to Napoleon had never received, the consecration of the Church; that, + contracted amid the stormy days of the revolution, it still lacked the + blessing hand of the priest, and that her own husband was to be blamed for + this neglect. In vain had she often besought him that, since he had + restored the Church to Prance, he should himself give to the world a + striking example of his own return by having his marriage blessed by it. + But Napoleon refused, although he had been the cause of Cardinal Caprera + giving to the marriage of his sister Caroline Murat, long after it had + been contracted, the blessing of the Church. + </p> + <p> + Pius heard this confession of his imperial penitent with holy resentment, + and he promised her his aid and protection, assuring her he would refuse + the act of coronation if the ecclesiastical marriage did not precede it. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had Josephine left him, than the pope asked for an interview + with the emperor, to whom he declared, with all the zeal of a true servant + of the Church, and the conviction of a devout, God-fearing man, that he + was willing to crown him, and to grant him the blessing of the Church, for + the state of the conscience of emperors had never been examined before + their anointment; but if his wife was to be crowned with him, he must + refuse his co-operation, because in crowning Josephine he dare not grant + the divine sanction to concubinage. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, though inwardly much irritated at Josephine, who, as he at once + supposed, had made this confession to the pope in her own interest, was + still willing to abide by the circumstances. He did not wish to irritate + the pope, who as was well known was unyielding in all matters pertaining + to faith; moreover, he could not change any thing in the already published + ceremonial of the day, and thus he consented to have the ecclesiastical + marriage. After this conversation with the pope, Napoleon went at once to + Josephine, and the whole strength of his anger was spent in violent + reproaches against her untimely indiscretion. + </p> + <p> + Josephine endured these silently, and full of inward satisfaction; she did + not listen to Napoleon’s angry words; she only heard that he was decided + to have his marriage sanctioned by the Church, and now she would be his + wife before God, as she had been before men for the last ten years. Now at + last her fate was decided, and her marriage made irrevocable; now she + would no longer dread that Napoleon would punish her childlessness by a + divorce. + </p> + <p> + During the night which preceded the day of the coronation, the night of + the 1st of December, the ecclesiastical marriage of Napoleon and Josephine + took place in the chapel of the Tuileries. The only witnesses were + Talleyrand and Berthier, from both of whom the emperor had exacted an oath + of profound silence. Cardinal Fesch, the emperor’s uncle, performed the + ceremony, and pronounced the benediction of the Church over this marriage, + which Bonaparte’s love for Josephine had induced him to consent to, and + which her love endeavored to make indissoluble. + </p> + <p> + This marriage, which she desired both as a loving woman and as a devout + Christian, was the most glorious triumph which Josephine had ever obtained + over the enmity of her husband’s sisters, for it was a new proof of the + love and faithfulness of this man, whom neither expediency, nor family, + nor state reasons, could remove from her, and who, with the hand of love, + had guided her away from all the dangers which had surrounded her. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XL. + </h2> + <h3> + THE CORONATION. + </h3> + <p> + At last, on the 2d of December, came the day which Napoleon had during + many years past longed for within the recesses of his heart; the day which + his ambition had hoped for, the day of his solemn coronation. And now the + victorious soldier was to see all his laurels woven into an imperial crown—that + which Julius Caesar had tried to win, and for which the republic punished + him with death. + </p> + <p> + But now the republicans were silent: before this new Julius Caesar they + dare not lift up their swords, for the power belonged to him, and that he + knew how to punish had been seen by trembling France not long ago at the + execution of George Cadoudal and his associates, the people sanctioning + those executions. + </p> + <p> + There was no Brutus there to plunge the dagger into the breast of the new + Cassar. His was the victory, the throne, the crown; and all France was in + joyous excitement at this new triumph, that the pope himself should come + from Rome to Paris so as to place the crown on the head of an emperor by + the grace of the people, and to make of the elect of the people an elect + of God. + </p> + <p> + The day had scarcely begun to dawn when all the streets of Paris through + which the imperial as well as the papal procession had to move toward + Notre Dame were filled with wave-like masses of human beings, who soon + occupied not only the streets but all the windows and all the roofs of the + houses. Those who were fortunate enough to be provided with cards of + admission into Notre Dame, went at six o’clock in the morning to the + cathedral, for whose adorning during the last fourteen days more than a + thousand workmen had been busy, and who had not yet quite finished their + work, retiring only when the approach of the pope and of his suite was + announced. In the interior of the Tuileries began from the commencement of + the day, on three different sides, a lively movement. + </p> + <p> + Here, in the apartments which the pope occupied, gathered together the + cardinals, the clergy, and all the church dignitaries who in the pope’s + suite were to proceed to Notre Dame. + </p> + <p> + There, in the apartments of the emperor, a host of courtiers and officers + waited from early dawn for the moment when the toilet of the emperor + should be completed, and he should go to the great throne-room, where the + empress and the imperial family would await him. + </p> + <p> + The greatest excitement, however, naturally prevailed in the apartments of + the empress, whose toilet occupied a host of chambermaids and ladies of + the court, and which had already been for months the subject of thought, + labor, and art, for painter and embroiderer, and for all manner of + professions, as well as for the master of ceremonies. For this imperial + toilet-ceremonial was to be in accordance with the traditions of ancient + France, but was not, at the same time, to be a mere imitation of the + coronation-toilet of the Bourbons, whom the revolution had dethroned, the + same revolution which had opened for Napoleon the way to the throne. + </p> + <p> + For this important ceremony, therefore, special costumes, somewhat + resembling those of former centuries, had been found. The painter Ingres + had furnished the designs for these costumes, and also plans for the + procession and for the groupings in Notre Dame; he had prepared all this + in pictures of great effect for the emperor’s inspection. But in order to + show to advantage the several costumes, as well as the train of + personages, and the subdivisions of the different groups of the imperial + dignitaries, Ingres had caused small puppets to be dressed in similar + costumes, and arrayed in the order of the procession according to the + prescribed ceremonies for that day; and for weeks the imperial court had + been studying these costumes, and every one’s duty had been to impress on + his mind the position assigned to him for the day of coronation. + [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 111.] + </p> + <p> + The pope’s toilet was the first completed; and at nine o’clock, all + dressed in white, he entered a carriage drawn by eight grays; over it in + gilt bronze were the tiara and the attributes of papacy. In front of the + carriage rode one of his chamberlains upon a white ass, bearing a large + silver cross before God’s vicegerent. Behind it in new carriages came the + cardinals, the prelates, and the Italian officers of the pope’s palace. + </p> + <p> + While the papal train was moving slowly on the quays of the Seine toward + the cathedral, amid the sounds of bells, and the unceasing, joyful shouts + of the people, all was yet in motion within the apartments of the emperor + and empress. On all sides hurried along the dignitaries and officers who + were to form a part of the imperial procession. + </p> + <p> + For this day, Napoleon had been obliged to cast off his plain uniform and + substitute the splendid theatrical costume of imperial magnificence. The + stockings were of silk, wrought with gold, embroidered round the edge with + imperial crowns; the shoes were of white velvet, worked and embroidered + with gold; short breeches of white velvet, embroidered with gold at the + hips, and with buttons and buckles of diamonds in the shape of garters; + the vest also was of white velvet, embroidered with gold and having + diamond buttons; the coat was of crimson velvet, with facings of white + velvet along all the seams above and around, and sparkling with gold; the + half-mantle was also crimson, lined with white satin, and hanging over the + left shoulder, while on the right shoulder and upon the breast it was + fastened with a pair of diamond clasps. Sleeves of the most costly lace + fell about the arms; the cravat was of Indian muslin, the collar likewise + of lace; the cap, of black velvet, was adorned with two plumes and + surrounded by a coronet of diamonds, which “the regent” used as a clasp. + Such was the costume which the emperor wore in the procession from the + Tuileries to Notre Dame. In the vestry of the cathedral he put on the + ample state-robes, that is to say, the robe and mantle of emperor. + [Footnote: Constant, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 212.] + </p> + <p> + The toilet of the empress was no less splendid and brilliant. It consisted + of an elaborate robe with a long train; this robe was of silver brocade, + with gold bees scattered all over; in front it was embroidered into a maze + of gold-leaves; at the lower edge was a gold fringe; the shoulders alone + were bare; long armlets of wrought gold, and adorned at the upper part + with diamonds, enclosed the arm and covered one-half of the hand. It + required all the art and grace of Josephine to carry this robe, it being + without any waist, and, according to the fashion of the times, extremely + narrow, and yet in wearing it to lose naught of her elegance or + condescending dignity. At the upper part of the dress rose a collar a la + Medicis of lace worked in with gold, and which Josephine had been + constrained to wear, so as at least, through some historic details, to + make her toilet correspond to the costume of the renaissance worn by + Napoleon. A gold girdle, adorned with thirty-nine diamond rosettes, + fastened under the breast her tunic-like dress. In her fondness for the + antique, Josephine, instead of diamonds and pearls, had preferred for + bracelets, ear-rings, and necklace, some choice stones of rare + workmanship. Her beautiful thick hair was encircled and held together by a + splendid diadem, a masterpiece of modern art. This toilet was to be + completed, like that of Napoleon, before the solemn entrance into the + cathedral, by putting on the imperial mantle, which was fastened on the + shoulders with gold buckles and diamond clasps. + </p> + <p> + At last the imperial toilets were completed; all the dignitaries, as well + as the imperial family, gathered together in the throne-room, ready for + the procession. Holding Josephine by the hand, her countenance expressing + deep emotion, and her eye obscured by the tears shed as a price for the + solemn marriage of that night, Napoleon appeared in the midst of his + brilliant courtiers, and received the impressive, heart-felt wishes of his + family, his brothers and sisters, who pressed around him and the empress, + and who at this moment, forgetting all envy and jealousy, had only words + of thankfulness and assurances of love, devotedness, and loyalty. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon replied to them all in the short, comprehensive words which he + addressed to his brother Joseph, whilst with his naming eyes he examined + his brothers and sisters in the brilliant costumes of their dignity and + glory: + </p> + <p> + “Joseph,” said he, “could our father see us now!” [Footnote: Meneval, + “Souvenirs,” vol. i., p. 204.] + </p> + <p> + From the pomp and solemnity of this important moment the thoughts of the + emperor, for whom the pope was waiting in Notre Dame, wandered far away to + the gloomy, quiet death-bed of his father, whose last hour was embittered + by the tormenting thought of leaving his family unprotected and with but + little means. + </p> + <p> + The thundering roar of cannon and the chimes of bells proclaimed that the + emperor and empress, with their train, were now leaving the palace to + ascend into the wonderful carriage made of gold and glass, and which was + waiting for them at the Pavilion de l’Horloge to proceed toward the + cathedral. + </p> + <p> + This carriage, prepared expressly for this day’s celebration, was of + enormous size and breadth, with windows on all sides, and entirely alike + in its front and back seats. It therefore happened that their imperial + majesties, on entering the carriage, not thinking of the direction to be + taken, sat down on the front instead of the back seat. + </p> + <p> + The empress noticed the mistake, and when she laughingly called the + emperor’s attention to it, they both took the back seat without a + suspicion that this little error was a bad omen. + </p> + <p> + Another little mishap occurred before they entered Notre Dame, which threw + a gloom of sad forebodings and fear over the heart of the empress. + </p> + <p> + Whilst alighting out of the carriage, the empress, whose hand was occupied + in the holding and carrying her robe and mantle, let slip from her fingers + the imperial ring which the pope had brought her for a present, and which + before the coronation he was to bless, according to the accustomed + ceremonial, and then place it on her finger as a token of remembrance of + the holy consecration. This made Josephine tremble, and her cheeks turned + pale, especially as the ring could nowhere be found. It had rolled a + considerable distance from the carriage, and only after some minutes did + Eugene Beauharnais find it and bring it to his mother, to her great + delight and satisfaction. [Footnote: Aubenas, “Histoire de l’Imperatrice + Josephine,” vol. ii., p. 283.] + </p> + <p> + At last the procession entered Notre Dame, and the brilliant solemnity + began. It is not our purpose to describe here again the ceremony which has + been in all its details portrayed in so many works, and to repeat the + solemn addresses and the different events of this great and memorable day. + It is with Josephine we have to do, and with what concerns her individual + destiny—that alone claims our attentive consideration. + </p> + <p> + One event, however, is to be mentioned. At the moment the emperor took + from the altar the so-called crown of Charles the Great, and with firm + hand placed it on his head—at the moment when he assumed the place + of the ancient Kings of France, a small stone, which had detached itself + from the cupola, fell down, touched his head, leaped on his shoulder, + slipped down his imperial mantle, and rolled over the altar-steps near to + the pope’s throne, where it remained still until an Italian priest picked + it up. [Footnote: Abrantes. “Memoires,” vol. vii., p. 258.] + </p> + <p> + At the moment of his loftiest grandeur the destiny of his future aimed its + first stone at him, and marked him as the one upon whom its anger was to + fall. + </p> + <p> + This was the third evil omen of the day; but fortunately Josephine had not + noticed it. Her whole soul was absorbed in the sacred rites; and, after + the emperor had crowned himself, her heart trembled with deep emotion and + agitation, for now the moment had come when she was to take her part in + the solemnity. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess d’Abrantes, who was quite near Josephine, and an immediate + witness of the whole celebration, depicts the next scene in the following + words: “The moment when the greatest number of eyes were fixed upon the + altar-steps where the emperor stood, was when Josephine was crowned by + him, and was solemnly consecrated Empress of the French. What a moment! + ... what a homage! What a proof of love manifested to her from him who so + much loved her! + </p> + <p> + “David’s painting, and many other pictures taken during the coronation, at + the very spot and time, have well represented the empress at the feet of + Napoleon, who crowns her; then the pope, the priests, and even persons who + were four hundred miles away—as, for instance, the emperor’s mother, + who was then in Rome, but whom David nevertheless brings into his picture. + But nothing, however, can give us a true description, or even an + approximate idea, of this alike touching and lofty scene, where a great + man by his own efforts ascends a throne, for on this occasion he was full + of gratitude and emotion. + </p> + <p> + “When the moment had come for Josephine to take her part in the great + drama, the empress rose from the throne and approached the altar, where + the emperor was waiting for her; she was followed by the ladies of the + palace and by her whole court, while the Princesses Caroline, Julie (the + wife of Joseph), the Princess Elise, and Louis Bonaparte, carried the + trail of her robe. One of the most admirable features in the beauty of the + Empress Josephine was not her fine, graceful figure, but the bearing of + her head—the gracious and noble manner in which she moved and + walked. I have had the honor to be introduced to many ‘real princesses,’ + as they are termed, in the Faubourg St. Germain, and I can in all + sincerity say that I have never seen one who appeared to me so imposing as + the Empress Josephine. In her, grace and majesty were blended. When she + put on the grand imperial robes there was no woman whose appearance could + be more royal in demeanor, and, in reality, none who understood the art of + occupying a throne as well as she, though she never had been instructed in + it. + </p> + <p> + “I read all that I have now said in the eyes of Napoleon. He watched with + delight the empress as she moved toward him; and as she knelt before him, + ... as the tears she could not restrain streamed down her folded hands, + which were lifted up to him more than to God, at that moment, when + Napoleon, or, much more, when Bonaparte was for her the real and visible + Providence, there passed over these two beings one of those fugitive + minutes, unique in its kind, and never to be recalled in a whole life, and + which fills to overflowing the void of many long years. The emperor + performed with an unexcelled grace the most minute details of every part + of the subsequent ceremony, especially when the moment came to crown the + empress. + </p> + <p> + “This ceremony was to be performed by the emperor himself, who, after he + had received the small closed crown surmounted by a cross, placed it first + on his own head, and then afterward on the head of the empress. He + performed these two movements with a most exquisite slowness, which was + indeed admirable. But at the moment when he was to crown her who was for + him, according to a prophecy, ‘the star of happiness,’ he made himself, if + I dare use the expression, coquettish. He arranged this little crown which + was to stand over her coronet of diamonds, and placed it on her head, then + lifted it up to replace it in another way, as if to promise her that this + crown would be light and pleasant to her.” [Footnote: Abrantes, + “Memoires.”] + </p> + <p> + After this twofold crowning performed by Napoleon himself, the pope, + surrounded by cardinals and prelates, approached the throne, and arriving + upon the platform pronounced in a loud voice, spreading his hands over + their imperial majesties, the ancient Latin formula of enthronization: “In + hoc solio confirme vos Deus, et in regno aeterno secum regnare faciat + Christus.” (God establish you on this throne, and Christ make you reign + with Him in His everlasting kingdom.) He then kissed the emperor on the + cheeks, and turning himself to the audience, cried with a loud voice: + “Vivat imperator in aeternum!” + </p> + <p> + The immense cathedral resounded with one glad shout of thousands of + voices: “Long live the emperor! long live the empress!” Napoleon, calm and + reserved, answered this acclamation with a friendly motion of the head. + Josephine stood near him, pale, deeply moved, her eyes, full of tears, + fixed on the emperor, as if she would pray to him, and not to God, for the + prosperity and blessing of the future. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the pope had descended from his throne, and while he approached + the altar, the bands played “Long live the emperor,” which the Abbe Kose + had composed for this solemnity. Then the pope, standing before the altar, + intoned the Te Deum, which was at once executed by four choirs and two + orchestras, and which completed the ecclesiastical part of the ceremony. + </p> + <p> + This was followed by a secular one. The emperor took, on the Bible which + Cardinal Fesch presented to him, the oath prescribed in the constitution, + and whereby he pledged himself solemnly to maintain “the most wise results + of the revolution, to defend the integrity of the territory, and to rule + only in the interest of the happiness and glory of the French people.” + After he had taken this oath, a herald approached the edge of the + platform, and, according to ancient custom, cried out in a loud voice: + “The most mighty and glorious Emperor Napoleon, Emperor of the French, is + crowned and enthroned! Long live the emperor!” + </p> + <p> + A tremendous, prolonged shout of joy followed this proclamation: “Long + live the emperor! Long live the empress!” and then an artillery salute + thundered forth from behind the cathedral, and a similar salute responded + from the Tuileries, and from the Invalides, and proclaimed to all Paris + that France had again found a ruler, that a new dynasty had been lifted up + above the French people. + </p> + <p> + At this moment from the Place de Carrousel ascended an enormous air + balloon surmounted by an ornamental, gigantic crown, and which, on the + wings of the wind, was to announce to France the same tidings proclaimed + to Paris by bell and cannon: “The republic of France is converted into an + empire! The free republicans are now the subjects of the Emperor Napoleon + I.!” + </p> + <p> + The gigantic balloon arose amid the joyous shouts of the crowd, and soon + disappeared from the gaze of the spectators. It flew, as a trophy of + victory of Napoleon I., all over France. Thousands saw it and understood + its silent and yet eloquent meaning, but no one could tell where it had + fallen, finally, after many weeks, the emperor, who had often asked after + the balloon’s fate, received the wished-for answer. The balloon had fallen + in Rome, upon Nero’s grave! + </p> + <p> + Napoleon remained silent a moment at this news: a shadow passed over his + countenance; then his brow brightened again, and he exclaimed: “Well, I + would sooner see it there, than in the dust of the streets!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLI. DAYS OF HAPPINESS. + </h2> + <p> + The prophecy of the old woman in Martinique had now been fulfilled: + Josephine was more than a queen, she was an empress! She stood on life’s + summit, and a world lay at her feet. Before the husband who stood at her + side, the princes and the people of Europe bowed in the dust, and paid him + homage—the hero who by new victories had won ever-increasing fame + and fresh laurels, who had defeated Austria, Prussia, and Russia, and who + had engraven on the rolls of French glory the mighty victories of + Austerlitz, Jena, and Eylau! + </p> + <p> + Josephine stood on the pinnacle of life; she saw the princes of foreign + states come to France as conquered, as captives, and as allies, to bring + to her husband and to herself the homage of subjects; she saw devoted + courtiers and flatterers; pomp and splendor surrounded her on every side. + </p> + <p> + Amid this glory she remained simple and modest—she never gave up her + cheerful gentleness and mildness; she never forgot the days which had + been; she never allowed herself to be exalted by the brilliancy of the + moment to an ambitious pride or to a lofty self-conceit. The friends of + the widow Josephine de Beauharnais always found in the empress Josephine a + thankful, obliging friend, ever ready to appeal to her husband, and + intercede with him in their behalf. To the royalists, when weary of their + long exile, though poor and helpless still loyal to the royal family—when + they returned to France with bleeding feet and wounded hearts, to implore + from the Emperor of the French the privilege of dying in their native + country—to them all Josephine was a counsellor, a helper, a + compassionate protectress. With deep interest she inquired from them how + it fared with the Count de Lille, whom her heart yet named as the King of + France, though her lips dared not utter it. All the assistance she gave to + the royalists, and the protection she afforded them, oftentimes despite + Napoleon’s anger, all the loyalty, the generosity, and self-denial she + manifested, were the quiet sacrifice which she offered to God for her own + happiness, and with which she sought to propitiate the revengeful spirit + of the old monarchy, loitering perchance in the Tuileries, where she now, + in the place of the wife of the Count de Lille, was enthroned as + sovereign. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s heart was unwearied and inexhaustible in well-doing and in + liberality; if Napoleon was truly the emperor and the father of the army + and of the soldiers, Josephine was equally the empress and the mother of + the poor and unfortunate. + </p> + <p> + But she was also, in the true sense of the word, the empress of the happy. + No one understood so well as she did how to be the leader at festivals, to + preside at a joyous company, to give new attractions by her gracious + womanly sweetness and amiableness, or to receive homage with such beaming + eyes, and to make others happy while she herself seemed to be made happy + by them. + </p> + <p> + Amid this life full of splendor and grandeur there were sad hours, when + the sun was shadowed by clouds, and the eyes of the Empress of the French + filled with such bitter tears as only the wife and the widow of General + Beauharnais could shed. + </p> + <p> + Three things especially contributed to draw these tears from the eyes of + the Empress Josephine: her jealousy, her extravagance, and, lastly, her + childlessness. Josephine was jealous, for she not only loved Napoleon, she + worshipped him as her providence, her future, her happiness. Her heart was + yet so full of passion, and so young, that it hoped for much happiness, + and could not submit to that resignation which is satisfied to give more + love than it receives, and instead of the warm, intoxicating cup of love, + to receive the cool, sober beverage of friendship. Josephine wanted not + merely to be the friend, but to remain Napoleon’s beloved one; and she + looked upon all these beautiful women who adorned the imperial court of + the Tuileries as enemies who came to dispute with her the love of her + husband. + </p> + <p> + And, alas! she had too often to acknowledge herself defeated in this + struggle, to see her rivals triumph, and for weeks to retreat into the + background before the victorious one who may have succeeded in enchaining + the inconstant heart of Napoleon, and to make the proud Caesar bow to her + love. But afterward, when love’s short dream had vanished, Napoleon, + penitent, would come back with renewed love to his Josephine, whom he + still called “the star of his happiness;” and oftentimes, touched by her + tears, he sacrificed to her anxiety and jealousy a love-caprice, and + became more affectionate, more agreeable even, than when he had forsaken + her; for then, to prove to her how unreserved was his confidence, he often + told her of his new love-adventures, and was even indiscreet enough at + times to betray all his gallantries to her. + </p> + <p> + The second object of the constant solicitude and trials of the empress was + her extravagance. She did not understand how to economize; her indolent + creole nature found it impossible to calculate, to bring numbers into + columns, or to question tedious figures, to see if debt and purse agreed—if + her generous heart must be prevented from giving to the poor—from + rendering assistance to the helpless, or from spending handfuls for the + suffering; to see if her taste for the arts was no longer to be gratified + with pictures, paintings, statues, cameos, and other objects of vertu, + which filled her with so much joy and admiration; if her elegant manners + and fondness for finery and dress were to be denied all that was costly, + all that was fashionable, and which seemed to have been expressly invented + for the adorning of an empress. And when, in some of those grave, + melancholy hours of internal anxiety, the cruel phantoms of the future + reckonings arose before her and warned her to stop purchasing, Josephine + comforted herself with the idea that it was Napoleon himself who had + requested her to be to all the ladies of his court a pattern of elegance, + and to be distinguished above all by the most brilliant, the choicest, the + costliest toilet. + </p> + <p> + The emperor would often come into the cabinet of the empress, and to the + great astonishment of her ladies-in-waiting would enter into the most + minute details of her dress, and designate the robes and ornaments which + he desired her to wear on some special festivity. It even happened in + Aix-la-Chapelle that Napoleon, who had come into the toilet-room of the + empress and found that she had put on a robe which did not please him, + poured ink on the costly dress of silver brocade, so as to compel her to + put on another. [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires,” vol. i., p. 98; and + Constant, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 103.] + </p> + <p> + And then how was it possible to resist the temptation of purchasing all + those beautiful things which were constantly brought to her for + inspection? Josephine loved what was beautiful, tasteful, and artistic; + all works of art which she admired must be purchased, whatever price was + asked; and when the merchants came to offer to the empress their superb + and splendid articles of luxury, how could she have the cruel courage to + repel them? How often did she purchase objects of extraordinary value for + which she had no need, simply to please herself and the merchant! Every + thing that was beautiful and tasteful pleased her, and she must possess + it. No one had a more remarkably fine taste than Josephine, but the + artists, the manufacturers, the merchants, also had fine taste, and they + came to the empress with the best they had; it was therefore natural that + she should purchase from them But unfortunately the happy moment of the + purchase was followed by the unhappy one of the payment, and the outlay + was constantly beyond the income of the empress, whose treasury, besides, + was so often emptied in charities, pensions, and presents. Then when the + merchants urged payment, and the purse was empty, Josephine had recourse + to the emperor, and had to entreat him to meet her expenses, and then came + violent scenes, reproaches, and bitter words. The emperor was angry, + Josephine wept, and payment and reconciliation followed these scenes. + Josephine promised to the emperor and to herself to be more economical in + the future, and no longer to purchase what she could not pay for, but ever + came the temptation, with all its inviting treasures, and being no saintly + Anthony, she would fall a prey to the temptation. + </p> + <p> + The third and thickest cloud which often darkened the serene sky of her + happiness after her marriage was, as already said, Josephine’s + childlessness. This was the bitter drop which was mixed in the golden cup + of her joy—this was the sting which, however deeply hid under the + roses, still reached her heart and wounded it painfully. She had no + children who could call Napoleon father, no offspring to prolong the + future of the new dynasty. And therefore the firmer the emperor’s power + became, the higher he stood above all other princes, the more distressing + and the more anxious were the emotions which filled the heart of + Josephine, the louder was the warning voice which ceased not to whisper to + her heart, and which she forgot only now and then under the glow of + Napoleon’s assurances of love, or amid the noise of festivities. This + voice whispered: “You must give place to another. Napoleon will reject + you, to marry a wife of princely birth, who will give an heir to his + empire!” + </p> + <p> + How Josephine strove to silence these agonizing whisperings of her heart! + With what restlessness of sorrow she rushed into the gayeties and + amusements of a court life! How she sought, in charitable occupations, in + the joys of society, in every thing which was congruous to the life of a + woman, of an empress, to obtain the forgetfulness of her torments! With + what envious attention she listened to the whispers of courtiers, + scrutinized their features, read their looks, to find out if they still + believed in the existence of an empress in the wife of Napoleon! With what + jealous solicitude she observed all the families on European thrones, and + considered what princesses among them were marriageable, and whether + Napoleon’s relations with the fathers of such princesses were more + intimate than those with the other princes! + </p> + <p> + And then she ever sought to deafen this vigilant, warning voice, by + comforting herself with the thought that the emperor had adopted his + brother’s son, the son of Hortense, and that he had made him his heir, and + consequently the throne and the dynasty were secure in a successor. + </p> + <p> + But alas! Fate would not leave this last comfort to the unfortunate + empress. In May of the year 1807, Prince Napoleon, the crown prince of + Holland, Napoleon’s adopted son and successor, died of a child’s disease, + which in a few days tore him away from the arms of his despairing mother. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s anguish was boundless, and in the first hours of this + misfortune, which with such annihilating force fell upon her, the empress, + as if in a state of hallucination, gazed into the future, and, with + prophetic voice, exclaimed: “Now I am lost! Now is divorce certain!” + </p> + <p> + Yes, she was lost! She felt it, she knew it! Nothing the emperor did to + pacify her anguish—the numerous expressions of his love, of his + sympathy, of his winning affection—nothing could any longer deceive + Josephine. The voices which had so long whispered in her breast now cried + aloud: “You must give place to another! Napoleon will reject you, so as to + have a son!” + </p> + <p> + But the emperor seemed still to try to dispel these fears, and, to give to + his Josephine a new proof of his love and faithfulness, he chose Eugene de + Beauharnais, the son of Josephine, for his adopted heir, and named him + Vice-King of Italy, and gave him in marriage the daughter of the King of + Bavaria; he thus afforded to Europe the proof that he still considered + Josephine as his wife, and that he desired to be shown to her all the + respect due to her dignity, for he travelled to Munich in company with her + in order to be present at the nuptials. + </p> + <p> + This journey to attend her son’s marriage was the last pleasure of + Josephine—her last days of honors and happiness. Once more she saw + herself surrounded by all the splendor and the pomp of her rank; once more + she was publicly honored and admired as the wife of the first and greatest + ruler of the world, the wife of the Emperor Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps Josephine, in these hours of happiness, when as empress, wife, and + mother, she enjoyed the purest and most sacred pleasure, forgot the sad + forebodings and fears of her soul. Perhaps she now believed that, since + Napoleon had adopted her Eugene as his son, and had given to this son a + wife of royal extraction, Fate would be propitious to her; that the + emperor would be satisfied with the son of his choice, and that the future + scions of the royal princess would be the heirs of his throne. + </p> + <p> + But one word of Napoleon frightened her out of this ephemeral security + into which happiness had lulled her. + </p> + <p> + Josephine wept as she bade farewell to her son; she was comfortless when + with his young wife Eugene left for Italy. She complained to Napoleon, in + justification of her tears, that she should seldom see her son, that now + he was lost to his mother’s heart. + </p> + <p> + The emperor, who at first had endeavored to comfort her felt at last + wounded by her sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “You weep, Josephine,” said he, hastily, “but you have no reasonable + motives to do so; you weep simply because you are separated from your son. + If already the absence of your children causes you so much sorrow, think + then what I must endure! The tenderness which you feel for your children + makes me cruelly experience how unhappy it is for me to have none.” + [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” vol. i., p. + 202.] + </p> + <p> + Josephine trembled, and her tears ceased flowing in the presence of the + emperor, but only to fall more abundantly as soon as he had left her. Now + she wept no longer at her separation from her son; her tears were still + more bitter and painful—she grieved over the coming future; she wept + because those voices which happiness for a moment had deafened, now spoke + more loudly—more fearfully and menacingly shouted: “Napoleon will + reject you! He will choose for himself a wife of royal birth, who will + give an heir to his throne and his empire.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII. DIVORCE. + </h2> + <p> + It was at last decided! The storm which had so long and so fearfully + rolled over Josephine’s head was to burst, and with one single flash + destroy her earthly happiness, her love, her future! + </p> + <p> + The peace of Vienna had been ratified on the 13th of October, 1809. + Napoleon passed the three long months of peace negotiations in Vienna and + in Schonbrunn, while Josephine, solitary and full of sad misgivings, lived + quietly in the retreat of Malmaison. + </p> + <p> + Now that peace was signed, Napoleon returned to France with fresh laurels + and new crowns of victory. But not, as usual after so long an absence, did + he greet Josephine with the tenderness and joy of a home-returning + husband. He approached her with clouded brow; with a proud, cold demeanor; + with the mien of a ruling master, before whom all must bow, even his wife, + even his own heart. + </p> + <p> + At Fontainebleau, whither the emperor in a few, short, commanding words—in + a letter of three lines—had invited the empress, did the first + interview of Josephine and Napoleon take place. She hastened to meet her + husband with a cheerful face and beaming eyes. He, however, received her + coldly, and endeavored to hide his feelings of uneasiness and shame under + a repulsive, domineering manner. + </p> + <p> + He returned to his home victorious; the whole world lay conquered at his + feet; he was triumphant. He had so deeply humiliated the pride of Austria + that she not only accepted his harsh terms of peace, but, as once men had + appeased the Minotaur by the sacrifice of the most amiable and most + beautiful maiden, so Austria had asked in a low voice whether the daughter + of the emperor, Maria Louisa might not give to the alliance of Austria and + France the consecration of love. Napoleon eagerly entered into the scheme; + and while Josephine, as his married wife before God and man, stood yet at + his side, he already had begun negotiations, the object of which was to + make the daughter of the Austrian emperor his wife, and before Napoleon + returned to France those negotiations had been brought to a satisfactory + result. + </p> + <p> + The ambitious Maria Louisa was to be the wife of the Emperor of the + French. Nothing more was wanted but that Napoleon should reject his + legitimate wife, whom the pope had anointed! He had but to disenthrone her + who for fifteen years, with true and tender love, had shared his + existence. He had only to be divorced publicly and solemnly, so as + immediately to possess a bride, the daughter of an emperor! + </p> + <p> + Napoleon came to Fontainebleau to accomplish this cruel task, to break at + once his marriage with Josephine and her heart. He knew what terrible + sufferings he was preparing for her; he himself quailed under the anguish + she was to endure; his heart was full of sorrow and woe, and yet his + resolution was irrevocable. Policy had controlled his heart, ambition had + conquered his love, and the man was determined to sacrifice his wife to + the emperor. + </p> + <p> + Josephine felt this at the first word he addressed her, at the first look + he gave her, after so long a separation, and her heart shrank within + itself in bitter anguish, while a stream of tears started from her eyes. + </p> + <p> + But Napoleon asked not for the cause of these tears; he had not the + courage to wage an open war with this brave, loving heart, and to subdue + her love and despair with the two-edged sword of his state policy and + craftiness. He did not wish to utter the word; he wanted to make her feel + what an abyss was now open between them; all confidential and social + intercourse was to be avoided, so that the empress might become conscious + that love and fellowship of hearts had ceased also. + </p> + <p> + On the evening after the first interview the empress found that the door + of communication between her apartments and those of the emperor had been + closed. Napoleon did not, as had been his wont, bid her good-night with a + cordial and friendly kiss, but, in the presence of her ladies, he + dismissed her with a cold salutation. The next day the emperor expressly + avoided her society; and when at rare moments he was with her, he was so + taciturn, so morose and cold, that the empress had not the courage to ask + for an explanation, or to reproach him, but, trembling and afraid, she + bowed under the iron pressure of his severe, angry looks. + </p> + <p> + To prevent their being with each other alone, and to avoid this horrible + solitude, dreaded alike by Napoleon and Josephine, the emperor sent the + next day for all the princes and princesses of his family to come to + Fontainebleau. His sisters, no longer kept in control by the domineering + will of the emperor, made Josephine feel their malice and enmity; they + found pleasure in letting the empress see their own ascendency, their + secure position, and in treating her with coldness and disrespect. The + emperor, instead of guarding Josephine against these humiliations, had the + cruel courage to increase them; for, without reserve or modesty, and in + the very presence of Josephine, he offered the most familiar and positive + attentions to two ladies of his court—ladies whom he honored with + special favor. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat et de l’Empire,” + vol. xi., p. 323.] + </p> + <p> + It was death-like agony which Josephine suffered in those days of + Fontainebleau; it was a cruel martyrdom, which she, however, endured with + all the gentleness of her nature, with the devotedness and uncomplaining + anguish of true and genuine love. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon could not endure this. The sight of this yet beloved pale face, + with its sweet, angelic smile, lacerated his heart and tortured him with + reproaches. He wanted to have festivities and amusements, so as not to + witness this quiet, devoted anguish, so as not to read every day in the + sorrowful, red eyes of Josephine, the story of nights passed in tears. + </p> + <p> + The court returned to Paris, there to celebrate the new victorious peace + with brilliant feasts. Napoleon, so as to be delivered from the tearful + companionship of Josephine, made the journey on horseback, and never once + rode near her carriage. + </p> + <p> + In Paris had begun at once a series of festivities, at which German + princes, the Kings of Saxony, of Bavaria, and of Wurtemberg, were present, + to congratulate Napoleon on his victories in Germany. The Empress + Josephine, by virtue of her rank, had to appear at these receptions; she + had, although in the deepest despondency, to wear a smile on her lip, to + appear as empress at the side of the man who met her with coldness and + estrangement, and whom she yet loved with the true love of a wife! She had + to see the courtiers, with the keen instinct of their race, desert her, + leaving around her person an insulting void and vacancy. Her heart was + tortured with anguish and woe, and yet she could not uproot her love from + it; she did not have the courage to speak the decisive word, and to desire + the divorce which she knew hung over her, and which at any moment might + agonize her heart! + </p> + <p> + Josephine did not possess the cowardice to commit suicide; she was ready + to receive the fatal blow, but she could not plunge the dagger into her + own heart. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, unable to endure these tortures, longed to bring them to an end. + He secretly made all the necessary arrangements, and communicated to the + first chancellor, Cambaceres, his irrevocable resolution to be divorced + from the empress. He, however, notified him that he wanted this act of + separation to be accomplished in the most respectful and honorable form + for Josephine, and he therefore, with Cambaceres, prepared and decided + upon all the details of this public divorce. + </p> + <p> + It only remained now to find some one who would announce to Josephine her + fate, who would communicate to her the emperor’s determination. Napoleon + had not the courage to do it himself, and he wanted to confide this duty + to the Vice-King Eugene, whom for this purpose he had invited to Paris. + </p> + <p> + But Eugene declined to become a messenger of evil tidings to his mother; + and when Napoleon turned to Hortense, she refused to give to her mother’s + heart the mortal stroke. The emperor, deeply touched by the sorrow + manifested by the children of Josephine, was not able to repress his + tears. He wept with them over their blasted happiness—their betrayed + love. But his tears could not make him swerve from his resolution. + </p> + <p> + “The nation has done so much for me,” said he, “that I owe it the + sacrifice of my dearest inclinations. The peace of France demands that I + choose a new companion. Since, for many months, the empress has lived in + the torments of uncertainty, and every thing is now ready for a new + marriage, we must therefore come to a final explanation.” [Footnote: + Lavalette, “Memoires,” vol. ii., p. 44.] + </p> + <p> + But as none could be found to carry this fatal news to Josephine, Napoleon + had to take upon himself the unwelcome task. + </p> + <p> + Wearied with the tears of the slighted empress, with the reproaches of his + own conscience and with his own sufferings, Napoleon suddenly broke the + sad, gloomy silence which had been so long maintained between him and his + wife; in answer to her tears and reproaches, he told her that it was full + time now to arrive at a final conclusion; that he had resolved to form new + ties; that the interest of the state demanded from them both an enormous + sacrifice; that he reckoned on her courage and devotedness to consent to a + divorce, to which he himself acceded only with the greatest reluctance. + [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du Consulat,” vol. xi., p. 340.] + </p> + <p> + But Josephine did not hear the last words. At the word divorce she swooned + with a death-like shriek; and Napoleon, alarmed at the sight of her + insensibility, called out to the officers in waiting to help him to carry + the empress into her rooms upon her bed. + </p> + <p> + Such hours of despair, of bitter pain, of writhing, agonized love did + Josephine now endure! How courageous, yet how difficult, the struggle + against the wretchedness of a rejected love! How angrily and scornfully + she would rise up against her cruel fate! How lovingly, humbly, gently she + would acquiesce in it, as to a long-expected, inevitable fatality! + </p> + <p> + These were long days of pain and distress; but Josephine was not alone in + her sufferings, for the emperor’s heart was also touched with her quiet + endurance, and her deep agony at this separation. + </p> + <p> + At last the empress came out victorious from these conflicts of heart and + soul, and she repressed her tears with the firm will of a noble, loving + woman! She bade her son Eugene announce to the emperor that she assented + to the divorce on two conditions: first, that her own offspring should not + be exiled or rejected, but that they should still remain Napoleon’s + adopted children, and maintain their rank and position at his court; + secondly, that she should be allowed to remain in France, and, if + possible, in the vicinity of Paris, so that, as she said with a sweet + smile, she might be near the emperor, and still hope in the pleasure of + seeing him. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon’s countenance manifested violent agitation when Eugene + communicated to him his mother’s conditions; for a long time he paced the + room to and fro, his hands behind his back, and unable to gather strength + enough to return an answer. Then, with a trembling voice, he said that he + not only granted all these conditions, but that they corresponded entirely + with the wishes of his heart, and that he would add to them a third + condition, namely, that Josephine should still be honored and treated by + him and by the world as empress, and that she should still be surrounded + with all the honors belonging to that rank. + </p> + <p> + There was yet wanting, for the full offering of the sacrifice, the public + and solemn act of divorcement; but before that could take place it was + necessary to make the requisite preparations, to arrange the future + household of the divorced empress, and to prepare every thing for + Josephine’s reception in Malmaison, whither she desired to retire from the + world. The mournful solemnity was put off until the 15th of December, and + until then Josephine, according to the rules of etiquette, was to appear + before the world as the ruling empress, the wife of Napoleon. Twice it was + necessary to perform the painful duty of appearing publicly in all the + pomp of her imperial dignity, and to wear the heavy burden of that crown + which already had fallen from her head. On the morning of the 3d of + December she had to be present at the chanting of the Te Deum in Notre + Dame, in thanksgiving for the peace of Vienna, and to appear at the ball + which the city of Paris that same evening gave to the emperor and empress. + </p> + <p> + This ball was the last festivity which Josephine attended as empress, but + even then she received not all the honors which were due to her as such. + Napoleon himself had given orders that the ladies of Paris, gathered in + the Hotel de Ville, with the wife of the governor of the capital, and the + Duchess d’Abrantes at their head, should not, as usual, meet the empress + at the foot of the stairs, but that they should quietly await her approach + in the throne-room, while the marshal of ceremonies would alone accompany + her up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + The Duchess d’Abrantes, deeply affected by this order of the emperor, + which at once revealed the sad secret of the approaching future, had + reluctantly to submit to this arrangement, which so cruelly broke the + established etiquette. She has herself, in her memoirs, given full + particulars of this evening, and her words are so touching and so full of + sentiment that we cannot refuse to make them known here: + </p> + <p> + “We, therefore,” says she, [Footnote: Abrantes, “Memoires.” vol. xii., p. + 289.] “ascended the throne-room, and were no sooner seated, than the drums + began to beat, and the empress entered. I shall never forget that figure, + in the costume which so marvellously suited her... never will this gentle + face, now wrapped in mourning crape, fade away from my memory. It was + evident that she was not prepared for the solitude which she had found on + the grand staircase; and yet Junot, in spite of the risk of being blamed + by the emperor, went to receive her, and he had even managed that the + empress should meet on the stairs a few ladies who, it is true, did not + very well know how they came and what they had to do there. The empress, + however, was not deceived; as she entered the grand hall and approached + the throne on which, in the presence of the public of the capital, she was + to sit probably for the last time....her feet trembled and her eyes filled + with tears. ....I tried to catch her eyes; I would willingly have sunk at + her feet and told her how much I suffered....She understood me, and looked + at me with the most agonizing gaze which perhaps was ever in her eyes + since that now blighted crown had been placed on her head. That look spoke + of agony—it revealed depths of sorrow!... What must she have + suffered on this awful day!....She felt wretched, dying, and yet she + smiled! Oh, what a torture was that crown!... Junot stood by her. + </p> + <p> + “‘You were not afraid of Jupiter’s wrath,’ said I to him afterward. + </p> + <p> + “‘No,’ said he, with a gloomy look, ‘no, I fear him not, when he is + wrong....’ + </p> + <p> + “The drums beat a second time; they announced the emperor’s approach.... A + few minutes after he came in, walking rapidly, and accompanied by the + Queen of Naples and the King of Westphalia. The heat was extraordinary, + though it was cold out of doors. The Queen of Naples, whose gracious, + charming smile seemed to demand from the Parisians the salutation, + ‘Welcome to Paris,’ spoke to every one, and with the expression of + uncommon goodness. Napoleon, also, who wished to appear friendly, walked + up and down the room, talking and questioning, followed by Berthier, who + fairly skipped at his side, fulfilling more the duties of a chamberlain + than those of a connetable. A trifling circumstance in reference to + Berthier struck me. The emperor, who for some time had been seated on his + arm-chair near the empress, descended the steps of the throne to go once + more around the hall; at the moment he rose I saw him bend down toward the + empress, probably to tell her that she was to accompany him. He rose up + first; Berthier, who had stood behind him, rushed on to follow his master; + the empress was already standing up, when his feet caught in the train of + her mantle, and he nearly fell down, causing the empress almost to fall. + However, he disentangled himself, and, without one word of excuse to the + empress, he followed the emperor. Certainly Berthier had not the intention + to be wanting in respect to the empress; but he knew the secret—he + knew the whole drama soon to be performed.... and assuredly he would not + have so acted one year ago as he did to-day..... The empress had remained + standing with a marvellous dignity; she smiled as if the accident was the + result of mere awkward-ness.... but her eyes were full of tears, and her + lips trembled....” + </p> + <p> + At last the 15th of December had come; the day on which Josephine was to + endure the most cruel agony of her life, the day on which she was solemnly + to descend from the throne and bid farewell to her whole brilliant past, + and commence a despised, lonely, gloomy future. + </p> + <p> + In the large cabinet of ceremonies were gathered on this day, at noon, the + emperor, the Empress Josephine, the emperor’s mother, the King and Queen + of Holland, the King and Queen of Westphalia, the King and Queen of + Naples, the Vice-king Eugene, the Princess Pauline Borghese, the + high-chancellor Cambaceres, and the secretary of civil affairs, St. Jean + d’Angely. Josephine was pale and trembling; her children were agitated, + and hiding their tears under an appearance of quietude, so as to instil + courage into their mother. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, standing upright, his hand in that of the empress, read with + tremulous voice: + </p> + <p> + “My cousin, prince state-chancellor, I have dispatched you an order to + summon you hither into my cabinet for the purpose of communicating to you + the resolution which I and the empress, my much-beloved wife, have taken. + I am rejoiced that the kings, queens, and princesses, my brothers and + sisters, my brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, my daughter-in-law and my + son-in-law, who also is my adopted son, as well as my mother, are here + present to hear what I have to say. + </p> + <p> + “The policy of my empire, the interest and wants of my people, direct all + my actions, and now demand that I should leave children heirs of the love + I have for my people, and heirs of this throne to which Providence has + exalted me. However, for many years past, I have lost the hope of having + children through the marriage of my beloved wife, the Empress Josephine; + and this obliges me to sacrifice the sweetest inclinations of my heart, so + as to consult only the welfare of the state, and for that cause to desire + the dissolution of my marriage. + </p> + <p> + “Already advanced to my fortieth year, I still may hope to live long + enough to bring up in my sentiments and thoughts the children whom it may + please Providence to give me. God knows how much this resolution has cost + my heart; but there is no sacrifice too great for my courage if it can be + shown to me that such a sacrifice is necessary to the welfare of France. + </p> + <p> + “It is necessary for me to add that, far from having any cause of + complaint, I have, contrariwise, but to praise the devotedness and + affection of my much-beloved wife; she has embellished fifteen years of my + life; the remembrance of these years will therefore ever remain engraven + on my heart. She has been crowned at my hands; it is my will that she + retain the rank and title of empress, and especially that she never doubt + my sentiments, and that she ever hold me as her best and dearest friend.” + </p> + <p> + When he came to the words “she has embellished fifteen years of my life,” + tears started to Napoleon’s eyes, and, with a voice trembling through + emotion, he read the concluding words. + </p> + <p> + It was now Josephine’s turn. She began to read the paper which had been + prepared for her: + </p> + <p> + “With the permission of our mighty and dear husband, I must declare that, + whereas I can no longer cherish the hope of having children to meet the + wants of his policy and the wants of France, I am ready to give the + highest proof of affection and devotedness which was ever given upon + earth....” + </p> + <p> + Josephine could proceed no further; sobs choked her voice. She tried to + continue, but her trembling lips could no more utter a word. She handed to + Count St. Jean d’Angely the paper, who, with tremulous voice, read as + follows: + </p> + <p> + “I have obtained every thing from his goodness; his hand has crowned me, + and on the exaltation of this throne I have received only proofs of the + sympathy and love of the French people. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it is but manifesting my gratitude for these sentiments when I + consent to the dissolution of a marriage which is an obstacle to the + welfare of France, since it deprives her of the happiness of being one day + ruled by the posterity of a great man, whom Providence has so manifestly + favored, as through him to bring to an end the horrors of a terrible + revolution, and to re-establish the altar, the throne, and social order. + The dissolution of my marriage will not, however, alter the sentiments of + my heart; the emperor will always find in me his most devoted friend. I + know how much this action, made incumbent upon him by policy and by the + great interests in view, has troubled his heart; but we, the one and the + other, are proud of the sacrifice which we offer to the welfare of our + country.” + </p> + <p> + When he had finished, Napoleon, visibly affected, embraced Josephine, took + her hand, and led her back to her apartments, where he soon left her + insensible in the arms of her children. [Footnote: Thiers, “Histoire du + Consulat,” etc., vol. xi., p. 349.] + </p> + <p> + Napoleon himself, sad and silent, returned to his cabinet, where, in a + state of complete exhaustion, he fell into an easy-chair. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of the same day he again visited Josephine, to pass a few + hours with her in quiet, undisturbed communion; to speak in tenderness and + love of the future, to weep with her, and, full of deepest emotion and + sincerity, to assure her of his undying gratitude for the past, and of his + abiding friendship for the future. + </p> + <p> + Josephine passed the night in tears, struggling with her heart, sometimes + breaking into bitter complaints and reproaches, which she immediately + repressed with that gentleness and mildness so much her own, and with that + love which never for a moment departed from her breast. + </p> + <p> + There remained yet to perform the last, the most painful scene of this + great, tearful drama. Josephine had to leave the Tuileries; she had + forever to retire from the place which she so long had occupied at her + husband’s side; she had to descend into the open grave of her mournful + abandonment; as a widow, to part with the corpse of her love and of the + past, and to put on mourning apparel for a husband who was not yet dead, + but who only rejected her to give his hand and his heart to another woman. + </p> + <p> + The next day at two o’clock, the moment had come for Josephine to leave + the Tuileries, to make room for the yet unknown wife of the future. + Napoleon wanted to leave Paris at the same moment, and pass a few days of + quiet and solitude in Trianon. + </p> + <p> + The carriages of the emperor and empress were both ready; the last + farewell of husband and wife, now to part forever, had yet to be said. M. + de Meneval, who was the sole witness of those sad moments, gives of them a + most affecting description, which bears upon its face the merit of truth + and impartiality. + </p> + <p> + “When it was announced to the emperor that the carriage was ready, he + stood up, took his hat, and said: ‘Meneval, come with me.’ + </p> + <p> + “I followed him through the narrow winding stairs which led from his room + into that of the empress. She was alone, and seemed absorbed in the + saddest thoughts, At the noise we made in entering she rose up and eagerly + threw herself, sobbing, upon the neck of the emperor, who drew her to his + breast and embraced her several times; but Josephine, overcome by + excitement, had fainted. I hastened to ring for assistance. The emperor, + to avoid the renewal of a painful scene, which it was not in his power to + prevent, placed the empress in my arms as soon as he perceived her senses + return, and ordered me not to leave her, and then he hurried away through + the halls of the first story, at whose gate his carriage was waiting. + Josephine became immediately conscious of the emperor’s absence; her tears + and sobs redoubled. Her women, who had now entered, laid her on a sofa, + and busied themselves with tender solicitude to bring her relief. In her + bewilderment she had seized my hands, and urgently entreated me to tell + the emperor not to forget her, and to assure him of her devotedness, which + would outlast every trial. I had to promise her that at my arrival in + Trianon I would wait upon the emperor and see that he would write to her. + It caused her pain to see me leave, as if my departure tore away the last + bond which united her to the emperor. I left her, deeply affected by so + true a sorrow and by so sincere a devotion. During the whole journey I was + deeply moved, and could not but bewail the merciless political + considerations which tore violently apart the bonds of so faithful an + affection for the sake of contracting a new union, which, after all, + contained but uncertain chances. + </p> + <p> + “In Trianon I told the emperor all that had happened since his departure, + and I conveyed to him the message intrusted to me by the empress. The + emperor was still suffering from the emotions caused by this farewell + scene. He spoke warmly of Josephine’s qualities, of the depth and + sincerity of the sentiments she cherished for him; he looked upon her as a + devoted friend, and, in fact, he has ever maintained for her a heart-felt + affection. The very same evening he sent her a letter to console her in + her solitude. When he learned that she was sad and wept much, he wrote to + her again, complained tenderly of her want of courage, and told her how + deeply this troubled him.” [Footnote: Meneval, “Napoleon et Marie Louise.—Souvenirs + Historiques,” vol. i., pp. 230-232.] + </p> + <p> + It is true Josephine’s sorrow was bitter, and the first night of solitude + in Malmaison was especially distressing and horrible. But even in these + hours of painful struggle the empress maintained her gentleness and + mildness of character. Mademoiselle d’Avrillon, one of the ladies in + waiting, has given her testimony to that effect: + </p> + <p> + “I was with the empress during the greater part of the night,” writes she; + “sleep was impossible, and time passed away in conversation. The empress + was moved to the very depth of her heart; it is true, she complained of + her fate, but in expressions so gentle, in so resigned a manner, that + tears would come to her eyes. There was no bitterness in her words, not + even during this first night when the blow which destroyed her, had fallen + upon her; she spoke of the emperor with the same love, with the same + respect, as she had always done. Her grief was most acute: she suffered as + a wife, as a mother, and with all the wounded sensitiveness of a woman, + but she endured her affliction with courage, and remained unchanged in + gentleness, love, and goodness.” [Footnote: Avrillon, “Memoires,” vol. + ii., p. 166.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIII. THE DIVORCED. + </h2> + <p> + Josephine had accepted her fate, and, descending from the imperial throne + whose ornament she had long been, retired into the solitude and quietness + of private life. + </p> + <p> + But the love and admiration of the French nation followed the empress to + Malmaison, where she had retreated from the world, and where the regard + and friendship, if not the love of Napoleon himself, endeavored to + alleviate the sufferings of her solitude. During the first days after her + divorce, the road from Paris to Malmaison presented as animated a scene of + equipages as in days gone by, when the emperor resided there with his + wife. All those whose position justified it, hastened to Malmaison to pay + their respects to Josephine, and through the expressions of their sympathy + to soften the asperities of her sorrow. Doubtless many came also through + curiosity, to observe how the empress, once so much honored, endured the + humiliation of her present situation. Others, believing they would exhibit + their devotedness to the emperor if they should follow their master’s + example, abandoned the empress, as he had done, and took no further notice + of her. + </p> + <p> + But the emperor soon undeceived the latter, manifesting his + dissatisfaction by his cold demeanor and repelling indifference toward + them, whilst he loudly praised all those who had exercised their gratitude + by visiting Malmaison, and in expressing their devotedness to the empress. + </p> + <p> + He himself went beyond his whole court in showing attention and respect to + Josephine. The very next day after their separation, the emperor went to + Malmaison to visit her, and to take with her a long walk through the park. + During the following days he came again, and once invited her and the + ladies of her new court to a dinner in Trianon. + </p> + <p> + Josephine might have imagined that nothing had been altered in her + situation, and that she was still Napoleon’s wife. But there were wanting + in their intercourse those little, inexpressible shades of confidence + which her exquisite tact and her instinctive feelings felt yet more deeply + than the more important and visible changes. + </p> + <p> + When Napoleon came or went, he no longer embraced her, but merely pressed + her hand in a friendly manner, and often called her “madame” and “you;” he + was more formal, more polite to her than he had ever been before. + </p> + <p> + And then his daily visits ceased; in their place came his letters, it is + true, but they were only the letters of a friend, who tried to comfort her + in her misfortune, but took no sympathetic interest in her distress. + </p> + <p> + Soon these letters became more rare, and when they did come they were + shorter. The emperor had to busy himself with other matters than with the + solitary, rejected woman in Malmaison; he had now to occupy his thoughts + with his young and beautiful bride—with Maria Louisa, the daughter + of the Emperor of Austria, who was soon to enter Paris as the wife of + Napoleon, the Emperor of France. + </p> + <p> + Bitter and painful indeed were those first days of resignation for + Josephine; harsh and unsparing were the conflicts she had to fight with + her own heart, before its wounds could be closed, and its pains and its + humiliations cease to torment her! + </p> + <p> + But Josephine had a brave heart, a strong will, and a resolute + determination to control herself. She conquered herself into rest and + resignation; she did not wish that the emperor, the happy bridegroom, + should ever hear of her red, weeping eyes, of her lamentations and sighs; + she did not wish that, in the golden cup which the husband of the + emperor’s young daughter was drinking in the full joyousness of a + conqueror, her tears should commingle therein as drops of gall. + </p> + <p> + She controlled herself so far as to be able with smiling calmness to have + related to her how Paris was celebrating the new marriage festivities, how + the new Empress of the French was everywhere received with enthusiasm. She + was even able to inquire, with an expression of friendly sympathy, after + Maria Louisa, the young wife of sixteen, who had taken the place of the + woman of forty-eight, and from whom Josephine, in the sincerity of her + love, required but one thing, namely, to make Napoleon happy. + </p> + <p> + When she was told that Napoleon loved Maria Louisa with all the passion of + a fiery lover, Josephine conquered herself so as to smile and thank God + that she had accepted her sacrifice and thus secured Napoleon’s happiness. + </p> + <p> + But the emperor, however much he might be enamored of his young wife, + never forgot the bride of the past, the beloved one of his youth, of whom + he had been not only captivated, but whom he had loved from the very + depths of his soul. He surrounded her, though from a distance, with + attentions and tokens of affection; he would often write to her; and at + times, when his heart was burdened and full of cares, he would come to + Malmaison, and visit this woman who understood how to read in his face the + thoughts of his heart, this woman whose soft, gracious, and amiable + disposition—even as a tranquillizing and invigorating breeze after a + sultry day—could quiet his excited soul; to this woman he came for + refreshment, for a little repose, and sweet communion. + </p> + <p> + It is true those visits of the emperor to his divorced wife were made + secretly and privately, for his second wife was jealous of the affection + which Napoleon still retained for Josephine; she listened with gloomy + attention to the descriptions which were made to her of the amiableness, + of the unwithered beauty of Josephine; and one day, after hearing that the + emperor had visited her in Malmaison, Maria Louisa broke out into tears, + and complained bitterly of this mortification caused by her husband. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon had to spare this jealous disposition of his young wife, for + Maria Louisa was now in that situation which France and its emperor had + expected and hoped from this marriage; she was approaching the time when + the object for which Napoleon had married her was to be accomplished, when + she was to give to France and the Bonaparte dynasty a legitimate heir. It + was necessary, therefore, to be cautious with the young empress, and, on + account of her interesting situation, it was expedient to avoid the gloomy + sulkiness of jealousy. + </p> + <p> + By the emperor’s orders, and under pain of the punishment of his wrath, no + one dared speak to Maria Louisa of the divorced empress, and Napoleon + avoided designedly to give her an occasion of complaint. He went no longer + to Malmaison; he even ceased corresponding with his former wife. + </p> + <p> + Only once during this period he had not been able to resist the longing of + visiting Josephine, who, as he had heard, was sick. The emperor, + accompanied only by one horseman, rode from Trianon to Malmaison. At the + back gate of the garden he dismounted from his horse, and, without being + announced, walked through the park to the castle. No one had seen him, and + he was about passing from the front-room into the cabinet of the empress + by a side-door, when the folding-doors leading from this front-room into + the cabinet opened, and Spontini walked out. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, agitated and vexed at having been surprised, advanced with + imperious mien toward the renowned maestro, who was quietly approaching + him. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, sir?” cried Napoleon, with choleric impatience. + </p> + <p> + Spontini, however, returned the emperor’s haughty look, and, measuring him + with a deep, flaming glance, asked, With a lofty assurance: “Sire, what + are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + The emperor answered not—a terrible glance fell upon the bold + maestro, without, however, annihilating him: then Napoleon entered into + Josephine’s cabinet, and Spontini walked away slowly and with uplifted + head. + </p> + <p> + Spontini, the famous composer of the “Vestals,” whose score he had + dedicated to the Empress Josephine, remained after her divorce a true and + devoted admirer of the empress; and in Malmaison, as well as in the castle + of Navarra, he showed himself as faithful, as ready to serve, as + submissive, as he had once been in the Tuileries, or at St. Cloud, in the + days of Josephine’s glory. He often passed whole weeks in Navarra, and + even undertook to teach the ladies and gentlemen of the court the choruses + of the “Vestals,” which the empress so much liked. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had, therefore, for the renowned maestro a heart-felt + friendship, and she took pleasure in boasting of the gratitude and loyalty + of Spontini, in contrast with the sad experiences she had made of man’s + ingratitude. [Footnote: Memoires sur l’Imperatrice Josephine,” par Mlle. + Ducrest,” vol. i., p. 287.] + </p> + <p> + The emperor, as already said, avoided to trouble his young wife by + exciting her jealousy; and though he did not visit Malmaison, though for a + time he did not write to Josephine, yet he was acquainted with the most + minute details of her life, and with all the little events of her home; + and he took care that around her every thing was done according to the + strictest rules of etiquette, and that she was surrounded by the same + splendor and the same ceremonies as when she was empress. + </p> + <p> + At last the moment had come which was to give to Josephine her most sacred + and glorious reward. The cannon of the Invalides, with their one hundred + and one thunders, announced that Maria Louisa had given birth to a son, + and Prince Eugene was the first who brought this news to his mother in + Navarra. + </p> + <p> + Josephine’s countenance beamed with satisfaction and joy when she learned + from the lips of her son this news of the birth of the King of Rome; she + called her whole court together to communicate herself this news to the + ladies and gentlemen, and to have them listen to the descriptions which + Eugene, with all heartiness, was making of the scenes which had taken + place in the imperial family circle during the mysterious hours of + suspense and expectation. + </p> + <p> + But when Eugene repeated the words of Napoleon’s message which he sent + through him to Josephine, her countenance was illumined with joy and + satisfaction, and tears started from her eyes—tears of purest joy, + of most sacred love! + </p> + <p> + Napoleon had said: “Eugene, go to your mother; tell her that I am + convinced no one will be more pleased with my happiness than she. I would + have written to her, but I should have had to give up the pleasure of + gazing at my son. I part from him only to attend to inexorable duties. But + this evening I will accomplish the most agreeable of all duties—I + will write to Josephine.” [Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. 236.] + </p> + <p> + The emperor kept his word. The same evening there came to Malmaison an + imperial page, with an autograph letter from Napoleon to Josephine. The + empress rewarded this messenger of glad tidings with a costly diamond-pin, + and then she called her ladies together, to show them the letter which had + brought so much happiness to her heart, and which also had obscured her + eyes with tears. + </p> + <p> + It was an autograph letter of Napoleon; it contained six or eight lines, + written with a rapid hand; the pen, too hastily filled, had dropped large + blots of ink on the paper. In these lines Napoleon announced to Josephine + the birth of the King of Rome, and concluded with these words: “This + child, in concert with our Eugene, will secure the happiness of France, + and mine also.” + </p> + <p> + These last words were to Josephine full of delight. “Is it, then, + possible,” exclaimed she, joyously, “to be more amiable and more tender, + thus to sweeten what this moment might have of bitterness if I did not + love the emperor so much? To place my son alongside of his is an act + worthy of the man who, when he will, can be the most enchanting of men.” + [Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. 238.] + </p> + <p> + And this child, for which so much suffering had been endured, for which + she had offered her own life in sacrifice, was by Josephine loved even as + if it were her own. She was always asking news from the little King of + Rome, and no deeper joy could be brought to her heart than to speak to her + of the amiableness, the beauty, the liveliness of this little prince, who + appeared to her as the visible reward of the sacrifice which she had made + to God and to the emperor. + </p> + <p> + One intense, craving wish did Josephine cherish during all these years—she + longed to see Napoleon’s son; she longed to press to her heart this child + who was making her former husband so happy, and on which rested all the + hopes of France. + </p> + <p> + Finally Napoleon granted her desire. Privately, and in all secrecy, for + Maria Louisa’s jealousy was ever on the watch, and she would never have + consented to allow her son to go to her rival; without pomp, without + suite, the emperor took a drive with the little three-year-old King of + Rome to the pleasure-castle of Bagatelle, whither he had invited the + Empress Josephine through his trusty chamberlain Constant. + </p> + <p> + Josephine herself has described her interview with the little King of Rome + in a very touching and affecting letter which she addressed the next day + to the emperor, and which contains full and interesting details of the + brief interview she had with the son of Maria Louisa. We cannot, + therefore, abridge this letter, nor deny ourselves the pleasure of + transcribing it: + </p> + <p> + “Sire, although deeply moved by our interview of yesterday, and + preoccupied with the beautiful and lovely child you brought me, penetrated + with gratitude for the step taken by you for my sake, and whose unpleasant + consequences, I may well imagine, could fall only upon you; I felt the + most pressing desire to converse with you, to assure you of my joy, which + was too great to be at once exhibited in a suitable manner. You, who to + meet my wishes exposed yourself to the danger of having your peace + disturbed, will fully understand why I thus long to acknowledge to you all + the happiness your inestimable favor has produced within me. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, it was not out of mere curiosity that I wished to see the King of + Rome; his face was not unknown to me, for I had seen striking portraits of + him. Sire, I wanted to examine the expression of his features, listen to + the tone of his voice, which is so much like yours; I wanted to see you—how + you would caress the child, and then I longed also to return to him the + caresses which my son Eugene received from you. If I recall to your + remembrance how deaf my son was once to you, it is that you should not be + surprised at the partiality which I cherish for the son of another, for it + is your son, and you will find neither insincerity nor exaggeration in + feelings which you fully appreciate, since you yourself have nurtured + similar ones. + </p> + <p> + “The moment I saw you enter with the little Napoleon in your hand was + undoubtedly one of the happiest of my eventful life. That moment surpassed + all the preceding ones, for never have I received from you a stronger + proof of your affection to me. It was no passionate love which induced you + to fulfil my wishes, but it was a sincere esteem and affection, and these + feelings are unchangeable, and this thought completes my happiness. + </p> + <p> + “It was not without trembling that I thought of the dissolution of our + marriage-ties, for it was reasonable for me to apprehend that a young, + beautiful wife, endowed also with the most enviable gifts, would soon make + you forget one who lacks all these advantages, and who then would be far + away from you. When I called to mind all the amiable qualities possessed + by Maria Louisa, I could not but tremble at the thought that I should soon + be indifferent to you, but surely I was then ignoring the loftiness and + generosity of your soul, which still preserves the memory of its + extraordinary devotedness, and of its tenderness toward me, a devotedness + and tenderness whose superabundance was proportioned to those eminent + qualities which have surprised Europe, and which cause you to be admired + by all those who come near you, and which even constrain your enemies to + render you justice! + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I acknowledge to you, sire, you have once more found the means of + astonishing me, and to fill me with admiration, accustomed as I am to + admire you; and your whole conduct, so well suited to my position, the + solicitude with which you surround me, and finally the step you took + yesterday in my behalf, prove to me that you have far surpassed all the + favorable and charming impressions which I have ever cherished for you. + </p> + <p> + “With what fondness I pressed the young prince to my heart! How his face, + radiant with health, filled me with delight, and how happy I was to see + him so amused and so contented as he watched us both! In fact, I entirely + forgot I was a stranger to this child; I forgot that I was not his mother + while partaking his sweet caresses. I then envied no man’s happiness; mine + seemed far above all bliss granted to poor mortals here below. And when + the time came to part from him, when I had to tear myself from this little + being whom I had barely learned to know, I felt in me a deep anguish, as + deep as if all the sorrows of humanity had pierced me through. + </p> + <p> + “Have you, as I did, closely noticed the little commanding tone of your + son when he made known to me his wish that he wanted me to be in the + Tuileries with him? And then his little pouting mien when I answered that + this could not be? + </p> + <p> + “‘Why,’ exclaimed he, in his own way, ‘why, since papa and I wish it?’ + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this already reveals that he will understand how to command, and I + heartily rejoice to discern traits of character which, in a private + individual, might be pregnant with evil consequences, but which are + becoming to a prince who is destined to rule in a time that is so near a + long and terrible revolution. For after the downfall of all order, such as + we have outlived, a sovereign cannot hope to maintain peace in his kingdom + merely through mildness and goodness. The nation over which he rules, and + which yet stands on the hot soil of a volcano, must have the assurance + that crime no sooner lifts its head than swift punishment will reach it. + As you yourself have told me a thousand times: ‘When once fear has been + instilled, one must not by arbitrariness, but through strict impartiality, + strive to be loved.’ + </p> + <p> + “You have often used your privilege of granting pardon, but you have more + frequently proved that you would not tolerate a violation of the laws + enacted by you. Thus you have subdued and mastered the Jacobins, quieted + the royalists, and satisfied the party of moderation. Your son will now + have your example before him, and, happier than you, will be able to go + further in manifesting clemency toward the guilty. + </p> + <p> + “I had with him a conversation which establishes the deep sensitiveness of + his heart. + </p> + <p> + “He was delighted with my charivari, and then he said to me: + </p> + <p> + “‘Ah, how beautiful that is! but if it were given to a poor man he would + be rich, would he not, madame?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Certainly he would,’ I replied. “‘Well, then,’ said he, ‘I have seen in + the woods a poor man; allow me to send for him. I have no money myself, + and he needs a good coat.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘The emperor,’ I replied, ‘will find a pleasure in gratifying your + wishes. Why does not your imperial highness ask him for his purse?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I have asked him already, madame. He gave it to me when we left Paris, + and we have given all away. But as you look so good, I thought you would + do what was so natural.’ + </p> + <p> + “I promised to be useful to that poor man, and I will certainly keep my + word. I have given orders to my courier to find the unfortunate person, + and bring him to-morrow to Malmaison, where we will see what can be done + for him. For it will indeed be sweet for me to perform a good work + counselled by a child three years old. Tell him, I pray you, sire, that + this poor man is no longer poor! + </p> + <p> + “I have thought you would be pleased to gather these details from a + conversation which passed between us in a low voice, while you were busy + at the other end of the drawing-room, examining an atlas. You will also + perceive by this, how fortunate it is for the King of Rome to have a + governess, who knows how to inspire him with such feelings of compassion, + the more touching that they are seldom found in princes. For princes in + general have been accustomed to a constant flattery, which induces them to + imagine that every thing in the world is for them, and that they can + entirely dismiss the duty of thinking about others. In fact the eminent + qualities of Madame de Montesquiou make her worthy of the important and + responsible charge you have committed to her care, and the sentiments of + the prince justify the choice you have made. Will he not be good and + benevolent, who is brought up by goodness and benevolence themselves? + </p> + <p> + “I am, however, afraid that his imperial highness, notwithstanding the + orders made to him by you, has spoken of this interview, which was to + remain secret. I recommended him not to open his mouth, and I assured him + that if any one knew that he had come to Bagatelle it would be impossible + for him to come here again. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, then, madame,’ replied he, ‘be not alarmed, I will say nothing, for + I love you; promise me, however, if I am obedient, to come soon and visit + me.’ + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I assured him, that I desired this more than he did himself, and I + have never spoken more truly. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile, I am conscious that those interviews, which fill me with + extreme joy, cannot often be repeated, and I must not abuse your goodness + toward me by claiming your presence too often. The sacrifice which I make + to your mental quietude is another proof of my intense desire to render + you happy. This thought will comfort me while waiting to be able to + embrace my adopted son. Do you not find this exchange of children very + sweet? As regards myself, sire, what distresses me is, that I can only + give to your son this name, without being able to be useful to him! And, + again, how different is my position from that which you held toward + Eugene! The longer, the kinder you are to him, the less can I show you my + gratitude! However, I rely upon the vice-king that he will be a comfort to + you, amid the sorrows which your family causes you. If, unfortunately, + what you surmise about the King of Naples were to happen, then Eugene + would become still more useful to you than ever, and I dare trust he would + prove worthy of you by his conduct in war as well as by his sincere + devotedness to your service. + </p> + <p> + “You have now received quite a long letter from me! The sentiment of + delight in talking about our two sons has carried me away, and this + sentiment will make me excusable for having so long intruded upon you. As + sorrow needs concentration, so joy needs expansion. This, sire, explains + this letter, long as a volume, and which I cannot close with-out once more + expressing my deepest gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “JOSEPHINE.” [Footnote: Ducrest, “Memoires,” vol. iii., p. 294.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIV. DEATH. + </h2> + <p> + Happy the man to whom it is granted to close a beautiful and worthy life + with a beautiful and worthy death! Happy Josephine, for whom it was not + reserved like the rest of the Bonapartes to wander about Europe seeking + for a refuge where they might hide themselves from the persecutions and + hatred of the princes and people! To her alone, of all the Napoleonic + race, was reserved the enviable fate to die under the ruins of the + imperial throne, whose fragments fell so heavily upon her heart as to + break it. + </p> + <p> + For France the days of fear had come, for Napoleon the days of vengeance. + The nations of Europe had at last risen with the strength of the lion that + breaks his chains and is determined to obtain liberty by devouring those + who deprived him of it, and so those irritated nations had with the power + of their wrath forced their princes, who had been so obediently submissive + to Napoleon, to declare war and to fight against him for life or death. + </p> + <p> + The conflicts, battles, and endless victories of the constantly defeated + Austrians, Prussians, Russians, and English, belong to history—this + everlasting tribunal where the deeds of men are judged, and where they are + written on its pages to be for ages to come as lessons and examples of + warning and encouragement. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, the lonely and rejected one, had nothing to do with those + fearful events which shook France; she played no active part in the great + drama which was performed before the walls of Paris, and which closed with + the fall of the hero whom she had so warmly and so truly loved. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, during those days of horror and of decisive conflicts, was in + her pleasure-castle of Navarra. Her daughter, Queen Hortense, with her two + sons, Napoleon Louis and Louis Napoleon, was with her. There she learned + the treachery of the marshals, the capitulation of Marmont, the surrender + of Paris, and the entrance of the foreign foe into the capital of France. + </p> + <p> + But where was Napoleon? Where was the emperor? Did Josephine know anything + of him? Why did he not come to the rescue of his capital, and drive the + foe away? + </p> + <p> + Such were the questions which afflicted Josephine’s heart, and to which + the news, finally re-echoed through Paris, gave her the fearful response. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon had come too late, and when he had arrived in Fontainebleau with + the remnants of the army defeated by Blucher, he learned there that + Marmont had capitulated, and that the allies had already entered Paris, + and all was lost. + </p> + <p> + The deputies of the senate and Napoleon’s faithless marshals came from + Paris to Fontainebleau to require from him that he should resign his + crown, and that he should save France by the sacrifice of himself and his + imperial dignity. These men, lately the most humble, devoted courtiers and + flatterers of Napoleon, who owed to him everything—name, position, + fortune, and rank—had now the courage to approach him with lofty + demeanor and to request of him to depart into exile. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon, overcome by all this misfortune and treachery which fell upon + him, did what they required of him. He abdicated in favor of his son, and + left Paris, left France, to go to the small island of Elba, there to dream + of the days which had been and of the days which were coming, when he + would regain his glory and his emperor’s crown. + </p> + <p> + Amid the agonies, cares, and humiliations of his present situation, + Napoleon thought of the woman whom he had once named the “angel of his + happiness,” and who he well knew would readily and gladly be the angel of + his misfortune. Before leaving Fontainebleau to retire to the island of + Elba, Napoleon wrote to Josephine a farewell letter, telling her of the + fate reserved for him, and assuring her of his never-ending friendship and + affection. He sent this letter to the castle of Navarra by M. de Maussion, + and the messenger of evil tidings arrived there in the middle of the + night. + </p> + <p> + Josephine had given orders that she should be awakened as soon as any one + brought news for her. She immediately arose from her bed, threw a mantle + over her shoulders, and bade M. de Maussion come in. + </p> + <p> + “Does the emperor live?” cried she, as he approached. “Only answer me + this: does the emperor live?” + </p> + <p> + Then, when she had received this assurance, after reading Napoleon’s + letter, and learning all the sad, humiliating news, pale, and trembling in + all her limbs, she hastened to her daughter Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Hortense,” exclaimed she, overcome and falling into an arm-chair near + her daughter’s bed, “ah, Hortense, the unfortunate Napoleon! They are + sending him to the island of Elba! Now he is unhappy, abandoned, and I am + not near him! Were I not his wife I would go to him and exile myself with + him! Oh, why cannot I be with him?” [Footnote: Mlle. Cochelet, “Memoires,” + vol. ii.] + </p> + <p> + But she dared not! Napoleon, knowing her heart and her love, had + commissioned the Duke de Bassano expressly to tell the Empress Josephine + to make no attempt to follow him, and “to respect the rights of another.” + </p> + <p> + This other, however, had not been pleased to claim the right which + Josephine was to respect. Napoleon left Fontainebleau on the 21st of + April, 1814, to go to the island of Elba. It was his wish to meet there + his wife and his son. But Maria Louisa did not come; she did not obey her + husband’s call; she descended from the imperial throne, and was satisfied + to be again an archduchess of Austria, and to see the little King of Rome + dispossessed of country, rank, father, and even name. The poor little + Napoleon was now called Frank—he was but the son of the Archduchess + Maria Louisa; he dared not ask for his father, and yet memory ever and + ever re-echoed through his heart the sounds of other days; this memory + caused the death of the Duke de Reichstadt, the son of Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Napoleon had gone to Elba, and there he waited in vain for Maria Louisa, + to fill whose place Josephine would have gladly poured her heart’s blood. + </p> + <p> + But she dared not! she submitted faithfully and devotedly to Napoleon’s + will. To her he was, though banished, humiliated, and conquered, still the + emperor and the sovereign; and her tearful eyes gazed toward the solitary + island which to her would have been a paradise could she but have lived + there by the side of her Napoleon! + </p> + <p> + But she had to remain in France; she had sacred duties to perform; she had + to save out of the wreck of the empire at least something for her + children! For herself she wanted nothing, she desired nothing; but the + future of her children had to be secured. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, Josephine gathered all her courage; she pressed her hands on + the mortal wounds of her heart, and kept it still alive, for it must not + yet bleed to death; her children yet claimed her care. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, left the castle of Navarra for that of Malmaison, + thus fulfilling the wishes of the Emperor Alexander, who desired to know + Josephine’s wishes in reference to herself and to her children, and who + sincerely wished to become acquainted with her, that he might offer her + his homage, and transfer to her the friendship he once cherished for + Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + Josephine received in Malmaison the first visit of Alexander, and from + this time he came every day, to the great grief of the returned Bourbons, + who felt bitterly hurt at the homage thus publicly offered before all the + world by the conqueror of Napoleon to the divorced Empress Josephine, who, + in the eyes of the proud Bourbons, was but the widow of General de + Beauharnais. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding this, the rest of the princes of the victorious allies + followed the example of Alexander. They all came to Malmaison to visit the + Empress Josephine; so that again, as in the days of her imperial glory, + she received at her residence the conquerors of Europe, and saw around her + emperors and kings. The Emperor Alexander, with his brothers; the King + Frederick William, with his sons; the Duke of Coburg, and many others of + the little German princes, were guests at her table, and endeavored, + through the respect they manifested to her, and the expressions of their + esteem and devotedness, to turn away from her the sad fate which had come + upon all the Bonapartes. + </p> + <p> + But her heart was mortally wounded. “I cannot overcome the fearful sadness + which has seized me,” said she to Mlle. Cochelet, the friend of her + daughter Hortense; “I do all I can to hide my cares from my children, but + I suffer only the more.” [Footnote: Mlle. Cochelet. “Memoires,” vol. ii.] + </p> + <p> + “You will see,” said she to the Duchess d’Abrantes, who had visited her at + Malmaison, “you will see that Napoleon’s misfortune will cause my death. + My heart is broken—it will not be healed.” [Footnote: Abrantes, + “Memoires,” vol. xvii.] + </p> + <p> + She was right, her heart was broken, it would not be healed! It seemed at + first but merely an indisposition which seized the empress, and which + obliged her to decline the announced visit of the Emperor Alexander, + nothing but a slight inflammation of the neck, accompanied by a little + fever. But the disease increased hour after hour. On the 27th of May, + Josephine was obliged to keep her bed; on the 29th her sufferings in the + neck were so serious that she nearly suffocated, and her fever had become + so intense that she had but few moments of consciousness. In her fancy she + often called aloud for Napoleon, and the last word which her dying lips + uttered was his name. + </p> + <p> + Josephine died on the 29th of May, 1814. That love which had illumined her + life occasioned her death, and will sanctify her name for ever as with a + saintly halo. + </p> + <p> + She was buried on the 2d of June in the church at Rueil. It was a solemn + funeral procession, to which all the kings and princes assembled in Paris + sent their substitutes in their carriages; but the most beautiful mourning + procession which followed her to the grave were the tears, the sighs of + the poor, the suffering of the unfortunate, for all whom Josephine had + been a benefactress, a good angel, and who lost in her a comforter, a + mother. + </p> + <p> + In the church of Rueil, Eugene and Hortense erected a monument to their + mother; and when in 1837 Queen Hortense, the mother of the Emperor + Napoleon III., died at Arenenberg, her corpse was, according to her last + wishes, brought to Rueil and laid at her mother’s side. Her son erected + there a monument to her; and this son, the grandchild of Josephine, is now + the Emperor of the French, Napoleon III. Josephine’s sacrifice has been in + vain. Napoleon’s dynasty, for whose sake she sacrificed happiness, love, + and a crown, has not been perpetuated through the woman to whom Josephine + was sacrificed—not through Maria Louisa, who gave to France and to + the emperor a son, but through the daughter of Josephine, who gave to + Napoleon more than a son, her love, her heart, and her life! + </p> + <p> + Providence is just! Upon the throne from which the childless empress was + rejected, sits now the grandchild of Josephine, and his very existence + demonstrates how vain are all man’s calculations and desires, and how like + withered leaves they are carried away and tossed about by the breath of + destiny! + </p> + <p> + It was not the emperor’s daughter who perpetuated Napoleon’s dynasty, but + the widow of General Beauharnais, Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie. + </p> + <p> + Josephine, therefore, is avenged in history; she was also avenged in + Napoleon’s heart, for he bitterly lamented that he had ever been separated + from her. “I ought not to have allowed myself to be separated from + Josephine,” said he, a short time before his death in St. Helena, “no, I + ought not to have been divorced from her; that was my misfortune!” + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Empress Josephine, by Louise Muhlbach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + +***** This file should be named 4226-h.htm or 4226-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/2/4226/ + + +Text file produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Empress Josephine + +Author: Louise Muhlbach + +Translator: W. Binet + + +Release Date: July, 2003 [Etext# 4226] +This file was first posted on December 8, 2001 +Last updated: May 3, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + +THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE + +AN HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE DAYS OF NAPOLEON + +By Louise Muhlbach + +Author Of: Daughter Of An Empress, Marie Antoinette, Joseph II and His +Court, Frederick The Great and His Family, Berlin And Sans-Souci, Etc. + + +Translated from the German by Rev. W. Binet, A M. + + + +CONTENTS. + +BOOK I. + +THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS. + + I. Introduction + II. The Young Maid + III. The Betrothal + IV. The Young Bonaparte + V. The Unhappy Marriage + VI. Trianon and Marie Antoinette + VII. Lieutenant Napoleon Bonaparte + VIII. A Page from History + IX. Josephine's Return + X. The Days of the Revolution + XI. The 10th of August and the Letter of Napoleon Bonaparte + XII. The Execution of the Queen + XIII. The Arrest + XIV. In Prison + XV. Deliverance + +BOOK II. + +THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. + + XVI. Bonaparte in Corsica + XVII. Napoleon Bonaparte before Toulon + XVIII. Bonaparte's Imprisonment + XIX. The 13th Vendemiaire + XX. The Widow Josephine Beauharnais + XXI. The New Paris + XXII. The First Interview + XXIII. Marriage + XXIV. Bonaparte's Love-Letters + XXV. Josephine in Italy + XXVI. Bonaparte and Josephine in Milan + XXVII. The Court of Montebello + XXVIII. The Peace of Campo Formio + XXIX. Days of Triumph + +BOOK III. + +THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED. + + XXX. Plombieres and Malmaison + XXXI. The First Faithlessness + XXXII. The 18th Brumaire + XXXIII. The Tuileries + XXXIV. The Infernal Machine + XXXV. The Cashmeres and the Letter + XXXVI. Malmaison + XXXVII. Flowers and Music + XXXVIII. Prelude to the Empire + XXXIX. The Pope in Paris + XL. The Coronation + XLI. Days of Happiness + XLII. Divorce + XLIII. The Divorced + XLIV. Death + + + + +BOOK I. THE VISCOUNTESS BEAUHARNAIS. + + +CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. + + +"I win the battles, Josephine wins me the hearts." These words of +Napoleon are the most beautiful epitaph of the Empress Josephine, the +much-loved, the much-regretted, and the much-slandered one. Even while +Napoleon won battles, while with lofty pride he placed his foot on the +neck of the conquered, took away from princes their crowns, and from +nations their liberty--while Europe trembling bowed before him, and +despite her admiration cursed him--while hatred heaved up the hearts of +all nations against him--even then none could refuse admiration to the +tender, lovely woman who, with the gracious smile of goodness, walked +at his side; none could refuse love to the wife of the conqueror, whose +countenance of brass received light and lustre from the beautiful eyes +of Josephine, as Memnon's statue from the rays of the sun. + +She was not beautiful according to those high and exalted rules of +beauty which we admire in the statues of the gods of old, but her whole +being was surrounded with such a charm, goodness, and grace, that the +rules of beauty were forgotten. Josephine's beauty was believed in, +and the heart was ravished by the spell of such a gracious, womanly +apparition. Goethe's words, which the Princess Eleonore utters in +reference to Antonio, were not applicable to Josephine: + +"All the gods have with one consent brought gifts to his cradle, but, +alas! the Graces have remained absent, and where the gifts of these +lovely ones fail, though much was given and much received, yet on such a +bosom is no resting-place." + +No, the Graces were not absent from the cradle of Josephine; they, more +than all the other gods, had brought their gifts to Josephine. They had +encircled her with the girdle of gracefulness, they had imparted to her +look, to her smile, to her figure, attraction and charm, and given +her that beauty which is greater and more enduring than that of youth, +namely loveliness, that only real beauty. Josephine possessed the beauty +of grace, and this quality remained when youth, happiness, and grandeur, +had deserted her. This beauty of grace struck the Emperor Alexander as +he came to Malmaison to salute the dethroned empress. He had entered +Paris in triumph, and laid his foot on the neck of him whom he once had +called his friend, yet before the divorced wife of the dethroned emperor +the czar, full of admiration and respect, bowed his head and made her +homage as to a queen; for, though she was dethroned, on her head shone +the crown in imperishable beauty and glory, the crown of loveliness, of +faithfulness, and of womanhood. + +She was not witty in the special sense of a so-called "witty woman." +She composed no verses, she wrote no philosophical dissertations, she +painted not, she was no politician, she was no practising artist, but +she possessed the deep and fine intuition of all that which is beautiful +and noble: she was the protectress of the arts and sciences. She knew +that disciples were not wanting to the arts, but that often a Maecenas +is needed. She left it to her cousin, the Countess Fanny Beauharnais, to +be called an artist; hers was a loftier destiny, and she fulfilled that +destiny through her whole life--she was a Maecenas, the protectress of +the arts and sciences. + +As Hamlet says of his father, "He was a man, take him for all in all, I +shall not look upon his like again;" thus Josephine's fame consists not +that she was a princess, an empress anointed by the hands of the pope +himself, but that she was a noble and true wife, loving yet more than +she was loved, entirely given up in unswerving loyalty to him who +rejected her; languishing for very sorrow on account of his misfortune, +and dying for very grief as vanished away the star of his happiness. +Thousands in her place, rejected, forgotten, cast away, as she +was--thousands would have rejoiced in the righteousness of the fate +which struck and threw in the dust the man who, for earthly grandeur, +had abandoned the beloved one and disowned her love. Josephine wept over +him, lamented over his calamities, and had but a wish to be allowed to +share them with him. Josephine died broken-hearted--the misfortunes of +her beloved, who no more loved her, the misfortunes of Napoleon, broke +her heart. + +She was a woman, "take her for all in all"--a noble, a beautiful woman, +a loving woman, and such as belongs to no peculiar class, to no peculiar +nation, to no peculiar special history; she belongs to the world, to +humanity, to universal history. In the presence of such an apparition +all national hatred is silent, all differences of political opinion are +silent. Like a great, powerful drama drawn from the universal history of +man and represented before our eyes, so her life passes before us; and +surprised, wondering, we gaze on, indifferent whether the heroine of +such a tragedy be Creole, French, or to what nation she may owe her +birth. She belongs to the world, to history, and if we Germans have no +love for the Emperor Napoleon, the tyrant of the world, the Caesar of +brass who bowed the people down into the dust, and trod under foot +their rights and liberties--if we Germans have no love for the conqueror +Napoleon, because he won so many battles from us, yet this does not +debar us from loving Josephine, who during her lifetime won hearts to +Napoleon, and whose beautiful death for love's sake filled with tears +the eyes of those whose lips knew but words of hatred and cursing +against the emperor. + +To write the life of Josephine does not mean to write the life of a +Frenchwoman, the life of the wife of the man who brought over Germany +so much adversity, shame, and suffering, but it means to write a woman's +life which, as a fated tragedy or like a mighty picture, rises before +our vision. It is to unfold a portion of the world's history before our +eyes--and the world's history is there for our common instruction and +progress, for our enlightenment and encouragement. + +I am not afraid, therefore, of being accused of lacking patriotism, +because I have undertaken to write the life of a woman who is not a +German, who was the wife of Germany's greatest enemy and oppressor. It +is, indeed, a portion of the universal drama which is unfolded in the +life of this woman, and amid so much blood, so much dishonor, so many +tears, so much humiliation, so much pride, arrogance, and treachery, of +this renowned period of the world's history, shines forth the figure +of Josephine as the bright star of womanhood, of love, of +faithfulness--stars need no birthright, no nationality, they belong to +all lands and nations. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE YOUNG MAID. + + +On the 23d of July, 1763, to the Chevalier Tascher de la Pagerie, +ex-lieutenant of the royal troops, a resident of the insignificant +spot of the Trois Islets, on the island of Martinique, was borne by his +young, rich, and beautiful wife, a first child. + +The loving parents, the relatives and friends had longed for this child, +but now that it was come, they bade it welcome without joy, and even +over the brow of the young father hung the shadow of a cloud as he +received the intelligence of the birth of his child. For it was a girl, +and not the wished-for boy who was to be the inheritor of the valuable +family-plantation, and the inheritor also of the ancient and respectable +name of Tascher de la Pagerie. + +It was, however, useless to murmur against fate. What was irrevocable +had to be accepted, and welcome made to the daughter, who, instead of +the expected heir, would now lay claim to the rights of primogeniture. +As an inheritance reserved for him who had not come, the daughter +received the name which had been destined to the son. For two hundred +years the name of Joseph had been given to the eldest son of the family +of Tascher de la Pagerie, but now that there was none to whom the +Chevalier, Ex-lieutenant Joseph de la Pagerie could leave his name as a +legacy, the family had to be satisfied to give the name to his daughter, +and consequently she received at baptism the name of Joseph Marie Rosa. + +There was, however, one being who gladly and willingly forgave the fault +of her birth, and who consecrated to the daughter the same love she +would have offered to the son. This being was the mother of the little +Joseph Marie Rosa. + +"Contrary to all our wishes," writes she to her husband's sister, the +beautiful Madame Renaudin, in Paris--"contrary to all our wishes, God +has given me a daughter. My joy is not therefore diminished, for I look +upon my child as a new bond which binds me still closer to your brother, +my dear husband, and to you. Why should I have such a poor and meagre +opinion of the female sex, that a daughter should not be welcomed by +me? I am acquainted with many persons of our sex who concentrate in +themselves as many good qualities as one would only with difficulty find +in the other sex. Maternal love already blinds me and fosters in me the +hope that my daughter may be like them, and if even I cannot enjoy +this satisfaction, yet I am thankful to my child that by means of her +existence I am gathering so much happiness." + +Indeed, extraordinary joy, since the birth of the child, reigned in the +house of M. Tascher de la Pagerie; joy reigned all over Martinique, +for the long war between France and England was ended, and a few months +before the birth of little Joseph Marie Rosa, the peace which secured +to France the possession of her maritime colonies had been signed. +Martinique, so often attacked, bombarded, besieged by English +ships--Martinique was again the unconditional property of France, and +on the birthday of the little Marie Joseph Rosa the French fleet entered +into the harbor of Port Royal, landed a French garrison for the island, +and brought a new governor in the person of the Marquis de Fenelon, the +nephew of the famous Bishop de Fenelon. + +Joyously and quietly passed away the first years of the life of the +little Joseph, or little Josephine, as her kind parents called her. Only +once, in the third year of her life, was Josephine's infancy troubled +by a fright. A terrible hurricane, such as is known to exist only in the +Antilles, broke over Martinique. The historians of that period know not +how to depict the awful and calamitous events of this hurricane, which, +at the same time, seemed to shake the whole earth with its convulsions. +In Naples, in Sicily, in the Molucca Islands, volcanoes broke out in +fearful eruptions; for three days the earth trembled in Constantinople. +But it was over Martinique that the hurricane raged in the most +appalling manner. In less than four hours the howling northwest' wind, +accompanied by forked lightning, rolling thunder, heavy water-spouts, +and tremendous earth-tremblings, had hurled down into fragments all the +houses of the town, all the sugar-plantations, and all the negro cabins. +Here and there the earth opened, flames darted out and spread round +about a horrible vapor of sulphur, which suffocated human beings. Trees +were uprooted, and the sugar and coffee plantations destroyed. The +sea roared and upheaved, sprang from its bounds, and shivered as mere +glass-work barks and even some of the larger ships lying in the harbor +of Port Royal. Five hundred men perished, and a much larger number +were severely wounded. Distress and poverty were the result of this +astounding convulsion of nature. + +The estate of M. Tascher de la Pagerie was made desolate. His residence, +his sugar-plantations, were but a heap of ruins and rubbish, and as +a gift of Providence he looked upon the one refuge left him in his +sugar-refinery, which was miraculously spared by the hurricane. There M. +Tascher saved himself, with Josephine and her younger sister, and there +his wife bore him a third child. But Heaven even now did not fulfil +the long-cherished wishes of the parents, for it was to a daughter that +Madame de la Pagerie gave birth. The parents were, however, weary with +murmuring against fate, which accomplished not their wish; and so to +prove to fate that this daughter was welcome, they named the child born +amid the horrors of this terrific hurricane, Desiree, the Desired. + +Peaceful, happy years followed;--peaceful and happy, in the midst of the +family, passed on the years of Josephine's infancy. She had every thing +which could be procured. Beloved by her parents, by her two sisters, +worshipped by her servants and slaves, she lived amid a beautiful, +splendid, and sublime nature, in the very midst of wealth and affluence. +Her father, casting away all ambition, was satisfied to cultivate his +wide and immense domains, and to remain among his one hundred and fifty +slaves as master and ruler, to whom unconditional and cheerful obedience +was rendered. Her mother sought and wished for no other happiness than +the peaceful quietude of the household joys. Her husband, her children, +her home, constituted the world where she breathed, in which alone +centred her thoughts, her wishes, and her hopes. To mould her daughters +into good housekeepers and wives, and if possible to secure for them +in due time, by means of a brilliant and advantageous marriage, a happy +future--this was the only ambition of this gentle and virtuous woman. + +Above all things, it was necessary to procure to the daughters an +education suited to the claims of high social position, and which would +fit her daughters to act on the world's stage the part which their +birth, their wealth, and beauty, reserved for them. The tender mother +consented to part with her darling, with her eldest daughter; and +Josephine, not yet twelve years old, was brought, for completing her +education, to the convent of our Lady de la Providence in Port Royal. +There she learned all which in the Antilles was considered necessary +for the education of a lady of rank; there she obtained that light, +superficial, rudimentary instruction, which was then thought sufficient +for a woman; there she was taught to write her mother tongue with a +certain fluency and without too many blunders; there she was instructed +in the use of the needle, to execute artistic pieces of embroidery; +there she learned something in arithmetic and in music; yea, so as to +give to the wealthy daughter of M. Tascher de la Pagerie a full and +complete education, the pious sisters of the convent consented that +twice a week a dancing-master should come to the convent to give to +Josephine lessons in dancing, the favorite amusement of the Creoles. +[Footnote: "Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," par Joseph Aubenas. +vol. i., p. 36.] + +These dancing-lessons completed the education of Josephine, and, +barely fifteen years old, she returned to her parents and sisters as an +accomplished young lady, to perform the honors of the house alongside +of her mother, to learn from her to preside with grace and ease over +a large mansion, and above all things to be a good mistress, a +benefactress, and a protectress to her slaves. Under her mother's +guidance, Josephine visited the negro cabins to minister unto the sick, +to bring comfort and nourishment to the old and to the weak, to pray +with the dying, to take under her loving guardianship the new-born babes +of the negro women, to instruct in the catechism the grown-up children, +to excite them to industry, to encourage them through kindness and +friendliness, to protect them, and to be a mediator when for some +offence they were condemned to severe punishment. + +It was a wonderfully peaceful and beautiful life that of the young +Josephine, amid a bountiful nature, in that soft, sunny clime which +clothed her whole being with that tender, pleasing grace, that lovely +quietude, that yielding complacency, and at the same time with that +fiery, passionate nature of the Creoles. Ordinarily dressed only with +the "gaule," a wide, loose garment of white muslin, falling loosely +about the waist, where no belt gathered its folds, the beautiful head +wrapped up in the many-colored madras, which around the temples was +folded up into graceful knots holding together her chestnut-brown +hair--in this dress Josephine would swing for hours in her hammock +made of homespun silk and ornamented with borders of feathers from the +variegated iridescent birds of Cayenne. + +Round about her were her young female slaves, watching with their +brilliant dark eyes their young mistress, ever ready to read every +wish upon that dreamy, smiling countenance, and by their swarthy tinge +heightening the soft, tender whiteness of her own complexion. + +Then, wearied with the stillness and with her dreams, Josephine would +spring up from the hammock, dart into the house with all the lightness +of the gazelle to enliven the family with her own joyousness, her merry +pleasantry, and accompanied by her guitar to sing unto them with her +lovely youthful voice the songs of the Creoles. As the glowing sun +was at its setting, away she hastened with her slaves into the garden, +directed their labors, and with her own hands tended her own cherished +flowers, which commingled together in admirable admixture from all +climes under the genial skies of the Antilles. In the evening, the +family was gathered together in the light of the moon, which imparted +to the nights the brightness of day and streamed upon them her soft +blue rays, upon the fragrant terrace, in front of the house, where the +faithful slaves carefully watched the little group close one to another +and guarded their masters from the approaches of poisonous serpents, +that insidious progeny of the night. + +On Sundays after Josephine had religiously and faithfully listened to an +early mass, she gladly attended in the evening the "barraboula" of the +negroes, dancing their African dances in the glare of torches and to the +monotonous sound of the tam-tam. + +On festivals, she assisted her mother to put all things in order, and +to preside at the great banquets given to relatives and friends, who +afterward were visited in their turn, and then the slaves carried their +masters in hammocks, or else, what was far more acceptable, the young +maidens mounted small Spanish horses, full of courage and daring, +and whose firm, quick step made a ride to Porto Rico simply a rushing +gallop. + +Amidst this dreamy, sunny, joyous existence of the young maiden gleamed +one day, as a lightning-flash, a prophetic ray of Josephine's future +greatness. + +This happened one afternoon as she was walking alone and thoughtful +through the plantation. A group of negresses, in the centre of which was +an old and unknown woman, attracted her attention. Josephine approached. +It was an old negro woman from a neighboring plantation, and she +was telling the fortune of the young negro women of M. Tascher de la +Pagerie. No sooner did the old woman cast her eyes on Josephine than +she seemed to shrink into one mass, whilst an expression of horror and +wonder stole over her face. She vehemently seized the hand of the young +maiden, examined it carefully, and then lifted up her large, astonished +eyes with a searching expression to the face of Josephine. + +"You must see something very wonderful in my face and in my hand?" +inquired Josephine, laughing. + +"Yes, something very wonderful," repeated the negro woman, still +intently staring at her. + +"Is it a good or a bad fortune which awaits me?" + +The old prophetess slowly shook her head. + +"Who can tell," said she, gravely, "what is a good or a bad fortune +for human beings? In your hand I see evil, but in your face +happiness--great, lofty happiness." + +"Well," cried out Josephine, laughing, "you are cautious, and your +oracle is not very clear." + +The old woman lifted up her eyes to heaven with a strange expression. + +"I dare not," said she, "express myself more clearly." + +"Speak on, whatever the result!" exclaimed Josephine, whose curiosity +was excited by the very diffidence of the fortune-teller. "Say what you +see in my future life. I wish it, I order you to do so." + +"Well, if you order it, I must obey," said she, with solemnity. "Listen, +then. I read in your countenance that you are called to high destinies. +You will soon be married. But your marriage will not be a happy one. You +will soon be a young widow, and then--" + +"Well, and then?" asked Josephine, passionately, as the old woman +hesitated and remained silent. + +"Well, and then you will be Queen of France--more than a queen!" shouted +the prophetess, with a loud voice. "You will live glorious, brilliant +days, but at the last misfortune will come and carry you to your grave +in a day of rebellion." + +Afraid of the pictures which her prophetic vision had contemplated in +the future, the old hag forced her way through the circle of negro women +around, and rushed away through the field as fast as her feet could bear +her on. + +Josephine, laughing, turned to her astonished women, who had followed +with their eyes the flight of the prophetess, but who now directed their +dark eyes with an expression of awe and bewilderment to their young +mistress, of whom the fortune-teller had said she would one day be Queen +of France. Josephine endeavored to overthrow the faith of her swarthy +servants in the fortune-teller, and, by pointing to the ridiculous +prophecy in reference to herself, and which predicted an impossible +future, she tried to prove to them what a folly it was to rely on the +words of those who made a profession of foretelling the future. + +But against her will the prophetic words of the old woman echoed in the +heart of the young maiden. She could not return home to her family +and talk, laugh, and dance, as she had been accustomed to do with her +sisters. Followed by her slaves, she went into her garden and sank in +a hammock, hung amid the gigantic leaves of a palm-tree, and, while the +negro girls danced and sang round her, the young maid was dreaming about +the future, and her beating heart asked if it were not possible that the +prophecy of the negro woman might one day be realized. + +She, the daughter of M. Tascher de la Pagerie--she a future "Queen +of France! More than a queen!" Oh, it was mere folly to think on such +things, and to busy herself with the ludicrous prophecies of the old +woman. + +And Josephine laughed at her own credulity, and the slaves sang and +danced, and against her will the thoughts of the young maiden returned +to the prophecy again and again. + +What the old fortune-teller had said, was it so very ridiculous, so +impossible? Could not that prophecy become a reality? Was it, then, the +first time that a daughter of the Island of Martinique had been exalted +to grandeur and lofty honors? + +Josephine asked these questions to herself, as dreaming and thoughtful +she swung in the hammock and gazed toward the horizon upon the sea, +which, in its blue depths and brilliancy, hung there as if heaven had +lowered itself down to earth. That sea was a pathway to France, and +already once before had its waves wafted a daughter of the Island of +Martinique to a throne. + +Thus ran the thoughts of Josephine. She thought of Franchise d'Aubigne, +and of her wondrous story. A poor wanderer, fleeing from France to +search for happiness beyond the seas in a foreign land, M. d'Aubigne +had landed in Martinique with his young wife. There Franchise was born, +there passed away the first years of her life. Once, when a child of +three years old, she was bitten by a venomous serpent, and her life was +saved only through the devotion of her black nurse, who sucked alike +poison and death from the wound. Another time, as she was on a voyage +with her parents, the vessel was in danger of being captured by a +corsair; and a third time a powerful whirlwind carried into the waves of +the sea the little Francoise, who was walking on the shore, but a large +black dog, her companion and favorite, sprang after her, seized her +dress with its teeth, and carried the child back to the shore, where +sobbing for joy her mother received her. + +Fate had reserved great things for Francoise, and with all manner of +horrors it submitted the child to probation to make of it a strong and +noble woman. + +A severer blow came when her father, losing in gambling all the property +which he had gathered in Martinique, died suddenly, leaving his family +in poverty and want. Another blow more severe still came when on her +return to France, whither her mother was going with her, she lost this +last prop of her youth and childhood. Madame d'Aubigne died, and her +body was committed to the waves; and, as a destitute orphan, Francoise +d'Aubigne touched the soil of France. + +And what became of the poor orphan of the Creole of Martinique? + +She became the wife of a king, and nearly a queen! For Francoise +d'Aubigne, the widow of Scarron, the governess of the children of Louis +XIV, had caused the mother of these children, the beautiful Madame de +Montespan, to be cast away, and she became the friend, the beloved, +the secret spouse of the king: and the lofty Louis, who could say of +himself, "L'etat c'est moi" he, with all the power of his will, with all +his authority, was the humble vassal of Franchise d'Aubigne, Marquise de +Maintenon! + +This was the first princess whom Martinique had given to the world! + +Was it not possible that the prophecies of the old negro woman could be +realized? could not once more a daughter of the Island of Martinique be +exalted into a princess? + +"You will be Queen of France!" the negress had said. + +No, it was mere folly to believe in such a ridiculous prophecy. The +throne of France was now occupied. Alongside of her consort, the +good, the well-beloved Louis XVI, the young and beautiful Queen Marie +Antoinette, the daughter of the mighty Empress Maria Theresa, sat on the +throne. She was young, she was beloved throughout France, and she had +already, to the great delight of her husband and of his people, borne an +heir to the throne of France. + +The throne of the lilies stood then on firm and sure foundations, +and the prophecies of the old negress belonged only to the kingdom of +fables. [Footnote: This prophecy, nearly as related above, was told by +the Empress Josephine herself to her maids of honor in the castle of +Navarra.--See "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine, la Ville, la Cour +et les Salons de Paris sous l'Empire, par Madame Georgette Ducrest."] + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE BETROTHAL. + + +Six months had barely elapsed since Josephine's return from the convent +when the family Tascher de la Pagerie received from their relatives in +Paris letters which were to be of the greatest importance for the whole +family. + +The beautiful Madame de Renaudin, sister of M. Tascher de la Pagerie, +had settled in Paris after having rid herself of an unhappy marriage +with a man, coarse and addicted to gambling, and after having, through +a legal separation, reobtained her freedom. She lived there in the +closest, intimacy with the Marquis de Beauharnais, who, for many +years, at an earlier period, had resided as governor on the Island of +Martinique, and there had bound himself to the whole family of Tascher +de la Pagerie by the ties of a cordial friendship. His wife, during her +residence in Martinique, had been the most tender friend of Madame de +Renaudin, and when the marchioness bore a second son to her husband, +Madame de Renaudin had stood as godmother, and promised to love and +protect the child of her friend as if she were his mother. + +Chance brought on the opportunity of accomplishing this promise and of +fulfilling the oath made to God before the altar. The Marchioness de +Beauharnais returned to France in the year 1763 with her husband and +her two sons, but died there a short time after; and Madame de Renaudin, +true to her oath, hastened to replace the natural guardian, the mother. + +Perhaps she had but followed the dictates of her heart, perhaps against +her will a sentiment of joy had passed over her at the death of the +poor marchioness, for, by this death, one at least of the two obstacles +intervening between Madame de Renaudin and the Marquis de Beauharnais +had been removed. Both married, both of the Catholic religion, death +alone could make their hands free, and confer upon them the right of +joining hands together for all their days. + +They loved one another, they had ceased long ago to make a secret of it; +they avowed it to each other and to their dependants, for their brave, +loyal, and noble hearts would not stoop to falsehood and deception, and +they had the courage to acknowledge what their sentiments were. + +Death had then made free the hand of the Marquis de Beauharnais, but +life held yet in bondage the hand of the Baroness de Renaudin. + +As long as her husband lived, she could not, though legally divorced +from him, conscientiously think of a second marriage. + +But she possessed the courage and the loyalty of true love; she had seen +and experienced enough of the world to despise its judgments, and with +cheerful determination do what in her conscience she held to be good and +right. + +Before God's altar she had promised to the deceased Marchioness de +Beauharnais to be a mother to her son; she loved the child and she loved +the father of this child, and, as she was now free, as she had no duties +which might restrain her footsteps, she followed the voice of her heart +and braved public opinion. + +She had purchased not far from Paris, at Noisy-le-Grand, a country +residence, and there passed the summer with the Marquis de Beauharnais, +with his two sons and their tutor. + +The marquis owned a superb hotel in Paris, in Thevenot Street, and +there, during winter, he resided with his two sons and the Baroness de +Renaudin, the mother, the guardian of his two orphan sons, the friend, +the confidante, the companion of his quiet life, entirely devoted to +study, to the arts, to the sciences, and to household pleasures. + +Thus the years passed away; the two sons of the Marquis de Beauharnais +had grown up under the care of their maternal friend: they had +been through their collegiate course, had been one year students at +Heidelberg, had returned, had been through the drill of soldier and +officer, a mere form which custom then imposed on young men of high +birth; and the younger son Alexander, the godchild of the Baroness de +Renaudin, had scarcely passed his sixteenth year when he received his +commission as sub-lieutenant. + +A year afterward his elder brother married one of his cousins, the +Countess Claude Beauharnais, and the sight of this youthful happy love +excited envy in the heart of the young lieutenant of seventeen years, +and awoke in him a longing for a similar blessedness. Freely and without +reserve he communicated his wishes to his father, begged of him to +choose him a wife, and promised to take readily and cheerfully as such +her whom his father or his sponsor, his second mother, would select for +him. + +A few months later reached Martinique the letters which, as already +said, were to be of the utmost importance to the family of M. Tascher de +la Pagerie. + +The first of these letters was from the Marquis de Beauharnais, and +addressed to the parents of Josephine, but with a considerate and +delicate tact the marquis had not written the letter with his own hand, +but had dictated it to his son Alexander, so as to prove to the family +of his friend De la Pagerie that the son was in perfect unison of +sentiment with the father, and that the latter only expressed what the +son desired and approved. + +"I cannot express," wrote the marquis, "how much satisfaction I have +in being at this moment able to give you a proof of the inclination and +friendship which I always have had for you. As you will perceive, this +satisfaction is not merely on the surface. + +"My two sons," continues he, "are now enjoying an annual income of forty +thousand livres. It is in your power to give me your daughter to enjoy +this income with my son, the chevalier. The esteem and affection he +feels for Madame de Renaudin makes him passionately desire to be united +with her niece. I can assure you that I am only gratifying his wishes +when I pray you to give me for him your second daughter, whose age +corresponds at best with his. I sincerely wish that your eldest daughter +were a few years younger, for then she would certainly have had the +preference, the more so that she is described to me under the most +advantageous colors. But I confess my son, who is but seventeen and a +half years old, thinks that a young lady of fifteen is too near him +in age. This is one of those cases in which reasonable and reflecting +parents will accommodate themselves to circumstances." + +M. de Beauharnais adds that his son possesses all the qualities +necessary to make a woman happy. At the same time he declares that, as +regards his future daughter-in-law, he has no claims to a dowry, for +his son already possesses an income of forty thousand livres from his +mother's legacy, and that after his father's death he will inherit +besides an annual income of twenty-five thousand livres. He then +entreats M. de la Pagerie, as soon as practicable, to send his daughter +to France, and, if possible, to bring her himself. The marquis then +addresses himself directly to the wife of M. de la Pagerie, and repeats +to her in nearly the same words his proposal, and endeavors also to +excuse to her the choice of the second daughter. + +"The most flattering things have been told me," writes he, "of your +eldest daughter, but my son finds her, with her fifteen years, too old +for him. My son is worthy of becoming your son-in-law; Nature has gifted +him with good and fine parts, and his income is sufficiently large to +share it with a wife qualified to render him happy. Such a one I trust +to find in your second daughter; may she resemble you, madame, and I can +no longer doubt of my son's happiness! I feel extremely happy to see my +long-cherished wishes satisfied! I can not express to you how great +will be my joy to see riveted forever, by means of this union of our two +families, the inclination and the friendship which have already so long +chained us together. I trust that Mademoiselle de la Pagerie will not +refuse her consent. Allow me to embrace her and already to greet her as +my own beloved daughter." [Footnote: Aubenas, "Histoire de l'Imperatrice +Josephine," vol. i., p. 78.] + +To this letter was addressed a note from Madame de Renaudin to her +brother and to her sister-in-law. She openly acknowledges that she +it was who desired this union, and who had brought the matter to its +present stage, and she endeavors to meet the objection that it would +appear strange for a young lady to undertake a long journey in search of +a future husband, whilst it would be more expedient that the bridegroom +should make the journey to his bride, to receive her at the hands of +her parents, and bring her with him to a new home. But this bride of +thirteen years must first be trained for her future destiny; she is +not to be in the house of her future father-in-law, but in the house of +Madame de Renaudin, her aunt, and she is there to receive the completion +of her education and that higher culture which her parents, even with +all the necessary means, could not give her in Martinique. + +"We are of opinion," she writes, "that the young people must see one +another and please each other, before we bring this matter to a close, +for they are both too dear to us to desire to coerce them against their +inclination. Your daughter will find in me a true and kind mother, and +I am sure that she will find the happiness of her future life in the +contemplated union, for the chevalier is well qualified to make a wife +happy. All that I can say of him exhausts by no means the praise he +deserves. He has a pleasant countenance, an excellent figure, wit, +genius, knowledge, and, what is more than this, all the noble qualities +of heart and soul are united in him, and he must consequently be loved +by all who know him." + +Meanwhile, before these letters reached Martinique, chance had already +otherwise decided the fate of Mary, the second daughter of M. de la +Pagerie. With one sentence it had destroyed all the family schemes. +After three days of confinement to a bed of sickness, Mary had died of a +violent fever, and when the letter, in which the Marquis de Beauharnais +asked for her hand, reached her father, she had been buried three +months. + +M. Tascher de la Pagerie hastened to announce her death to the Marquis +and to Madame de Renaudin; and to prove to them how much he also had at +heart a union of the two families, he offered to his son, the chevalier, +the hand of his third daughter, the little twelve-year-old Desiree. +Undoubtedly it would have been more gratifying to him if the choice of +the marquis had fallen upon his eldest daughter, and he makes this known +very clearly in his answer to Madame de Renaudin. + +"My eldest daughter," writes he, "Josephine, who is lately returned from +the convent, and who has often desired me to take her to France, will, +believe me, be somewhat sensitive at the preference given to her younger +sisters. Josephine has a beautiful head, beautiful eyes and arms, and +also a wonderful talent for music. During her stay in the convent I +procured her a guitar-teacher; she has made the best of the instruction +received, and she has a glorious voice. It is a pity she has not the +opportunity of completing her education in France; and were I to have my +wish, I would bring her to you instead of my other two daughters." + +Meanwhile the Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his son, found that the +youngest daughter of M. de la Pagerie was too young for their impatient +desire to bring to a favorable issue these important family concerns, +and that the eldest of the daughters ought to have the preference. The +son of the marquis especially pronounced himself decidedly in favor of +Josephine, and father and son, as well as Madame de Renaudin, turned +imploringly to M. Tascher de la Pagerie, praying that he would bring +them his eldest daughter. + +Now, for the first time, when the choice of the Beauharnais family +had irrevocably fallen upon Josephine, now for the first time was this +proposed marriage made known to her, and her consent asked. + +Josephine, whose young heart was like a blank sheet of paper, whereon +love had as yet written no name, Josephine rejoiced at the prospect +of accomplishing the secret wish of her maiden heart, to go to +Paris--Paris, the burning desire of all Creoles--Paris, after all the +narratives and descriptions, which had been made to Josephine, rose +before the soul of the young maiden as a golden morning dream, a +charming fairy world; and full of gratitude she already loved her future +husband, to whom she owed the happiness of becoming acquainted with the +city of wonders and pleasures. + +She therefore acquiesced without regret at being separated from +her parents and from her sister, from the home of all her sweet +reminiscences of youth, and joyously, in August of the year 1779, she +embarked on board the vessel which was to take her with her father to +France. + +In the middle of October they both, after a stormy passage, touched +the soil of France and announced to their relatives their safe arrival. +Alexandre de Beauharnais, full of impatient longings to see his unknown +young bride, hastened to Brest to bid her and her father welcome, and to +accompany them to Paris. + +The first meeting of the young couple decided their future. Josephine, +smiling and blushing, avowed to her father that she was willing and +ready to marry M. Alexandre Beanharnais; and, the very first day of +his meeting with Josephine, Alexandre wrote to his father that he was +enchanted with the choice made, and that he felt strongly convinced +that, at the side of so charming, sweet, and lovely a being, he would +lead a happy and sunny life. + +The love of the children had crowned all the schemes of the parents, +and on the 13th of December, 1779, the marriage of the young couple took +place. On the 13th of December, Mademoiselle Josephine Tascher de la +Pagerie became the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE YOUNG BONAPARTE. + + +In the same year, 1779, in which Josephine de la Pagerie for the first +time left Martinique for Prance, a vessel which had sailed from Corsica +brought to France a boy who, not only as regards Josephine's life, +but also as regards all Europe, yea, the whole world, was to be of the +highest importance, and who, with the iron step of fatality, was to +walk through Europe to subvert thrones and raise up new ones; to tread +nations in the dust, and to lift up others from the dust; to break +tyranny's chains in which people languished, so as to impose upon them +his own chains. + +This boy was Napoleon Bonaparte, the son of the advocate Charles de +Bonaparte. + +From Ajaccio, the principal town of Corsica, came the ship which brought +to France the boy, his father, and his two elder brothers. In Ajaccio +the family of the Bonapartes had been settled for more than a century. +There also Napoleon had passed the first years of his life, in the +family circle with his parents, and in joyous amusements with his five +brothers and sisters. + +His father, Charles de Bonaparte, belonged to one of the noble families +of Corsica, and was one of the most influential men on the island. His +mother, Letitia Ramolina, was well known throughout the island for her +beauty, and the only woman who could have been her rival, for she was +her equal in beauty, youth, and grace, was her dearest friend, the +beautiful Panonia de Comnene, afterward the mother of the Duchess +d'Abrantes. + +The beautiful Letitia Ramolina was married to Charles de Bonaparte the +same year that her friend Panonia de Comnene became the wife of M. +de Permont, a high French official in Ajaccio. Corsica was then the +undisputed property of the kingdom of France, and, however proud the +Corsicans were of their island, yet they were satisfied to be called +subjects of France, and to have their beautiful island considered as a +province of France. + +Napoleon Bonaparte was the fifth child of his parents, the favorite of +his beautiful mother Letitia, who was the life of the household, the +ruler of the family. She governed the house, she educated the children; +she knew, with the genuine ability of a housekeeper, of a mother, how to +spend with careful frugality the moderate income of her husband; how +to economize, and yet how to give to each what was needed. As to the +father, in the hours of leisure which business, political debates, and +amusements allowed him to give to his home and family, his children were +an agreeable recreation, an interesting pastime; and when the children, +carried away by the sparkling fire of youth, shouted or cried too loud, +the father endeavored to palliate their misdemeanor, and obtain their +pardon from their mother. Then Letitia's eyes were fastened with a +flaming glance upon her husband, and, imperatively bidding him leave the +children, she would say: "Let them alone. Their education concerns you +not. I am the one to keep the eyes upon them." + +She trained them up with the severity of a father and with the +tenderness of a mother. Inexorable against every vice of heart and +character, she was lenient and indulgent toward petty offences which +sprang up from the inconsiderateness and spiritedness of youth. Every +tendency to vulgar sentiments, to mean envy or selfishness, she strove +to uproot by galling indignation; but every thing which was great and +lofty, all sentiments of honor, of courage, of large-heartedness, of +generosity, of kindness, she nursed and cherished in the hearts of her +children. It was a glorious sight to contemplate this young mother +when with her beautiful, rosy countenance glowing with enthusiasm and +blessedness, she stood among her children, and in fiery, expressive +manner spoke to the listening group of the great and brave of old, of +the deeds of a Caesar, of a Hannibal; when she spoke of Brutus, who, +though he loved Caesar, yet, greater than Caesar, and a more exalted +Roman in his love for the republic, sacrificed his love to the +fatherland; or when she, with that burning glow which all Corsicans, the +women as well as the men, cherish for their home and for the historical +greatness of their dear island, told them of the bravery and self-denial +even unto death with which the Corsicans for centuries had fought for +the freedom of their island; how, faithful to the ancient sacred law of +blood, they never let the misdeed pass unpunished; they never feared the +foe, however powerful he might be, but revenged on him the evil which he +had committed against sister or brother, father or mother. + +And when Letitia thus spoke to her children in the beautiful and +harmonious language of her country, the eyes of the little Napoleon +were all aflame, his childish countenance suddenly assumed a grave +expression, and on the little body of the child was seen a man's head, +glowing with power, energy, and pride. + +These narratives of his mother, these enthusiastic stories of heroes +of the past, which the boy, with loud-beating heart, with countenance +blanched by mental excitement, gathered from the beautiful lips of his +mother, were the highest pleasure of the little Napoleon, and often in +future years has the emperor amid his glory thought of those days never +to be forgotten, when the child's heart and soul hung on his mother's +lips, and listened to her wondrous stories of heroes. + +These narratives of Letitia, this enthusiasm which her glowing language +awoke in the heart of the child, this whole education which Letitia gave +to her children, became the corner-stone of their future. As a sower, +Letitia scattered the seed from which hero and warrior were to spring +forth, and the grain which fell into the heart of her little Napoleon +found a good soil, and grew and prospered, and became a laurel-tree, +which adorned the whole family of the Bonapartes with the blooming crown +of immortality. + +Great men are ever much more the sons of their mother than of the +father, while seldom have great men seen their own greatness survive in +their sons. This is a wonderful secret of Nature, which perhaps cannot +be explained, but which cannot be denied. + +Goethe was the true son of his talented and noble mother, but he could +leave as a legacy to his son only the fame of a name, and not his +genius. Henry IV., the son of a noble, spiritual and large-hearted +Jeanne de Navarre, could not leave to France, which worshipped and loved +her king, could not leave to his people, a successor who resembled him, +and who would inherit his sharp-sightedness, his prudence, his courage, +and his greatness of soul. His son and successor was Louis XIII., a king +whose misfortune it was ever to be overruled, ever to be humbled, ever +to stand in the shade of two superior natures, which excited his envy, +but which he was never competent to overcome; ever overshadowed by the +past glories which his father's fame threw upon him, overshadowed by the +ruler and mentor of his choice, his minister, the Cardinal de Richelieu, +who darkened his whole sad existence. + +Napoleon was the son of his mother, the large-hearted and high-minded +Letitia Ramolina. But how distant was the son of the hero, who, from a +poor second lieutenant, had forced his way to the throne of France! how +distant the poor little Duke de Reichstadt from his great father! Even +over the life of this son of an eminent father weighed a shadow--the +shadow of his father's greatness. Under this shadow which the column of +Vendome cast from Paris to the imperial city of Vienna, which the steep +rock of St. Helena cast even upon the castle of Schonbrunn, under this +shadow died the Duke de Reichstadt, the unfortunate son of his eminent +father. + +The little Napoleon was always a shy, reserved, quiet boy. For hours +long he could hide in some obscure corner of the house or of the garden, +and sit there with head bent low and eyes closed, half asleep and half +dreaming; but when he opened his eyes, what a life in those looks! What +animation, what exuberance in his whole being, when awaking from his +childish dreams he mixed again with his brothers, sisters, and friends! + +Letitia's words and example had penetrated the soul of the child with +the highest emotions of honor and human dignity, and the little boy of +seven years exhibited oftentimes the sentiments of honor, pride, and +obstinacy of a man. Every bodily correction to which he was submitted +made him turn pale and tremble, not from pain but for shame, filled him +with indignation, and was apt to bring on sickness. In Corsica still +prevailed the custom of severe discipline for children, and in all the +classes of the school the rod was applied as a means of punishment and +reformation. To beat one's wife was considered in Corsica, as everywhere +else, an unpardonable brutality; but parents as well as teachers whipped +children to mould them into noble, refined, honorable men. + +The little Napoleon would not adapt himself to the blessings of this +education, and the mere threats of the rod-switching deprived the child +of his senses and threw him into convulsions. But though the little +Napoleon was gloomy, monosyllabic, and quiet, yet was he from early +childhood the favorite of all who knew him, and he already wielded over +brothers, sisters, and companions, a wonderful influence. + +When a boy of four years old, Letitia sent him to a sort of play-school, +where boys and girls amused themselves together and learned the ABC. The +young Napoleon was soon the soul of the little company. The boys obeyed +him, and submitted to his will; the girls trembled before him, and yet +with a smile they pressed toward him merely to be near him and to have +a place at his side. And the four-year child already practised a tender +chivalry. One of his little school-companions had made an impression on +his heart; he honored her with special favors, sat at her side during +the lessons, and when they left school to return home, the little +Napoleon never missed, with complete gravity of countenance, to offer +his arm to his favorite of five years of age and to accompany her to her +home. But the sight of this gallant, with his diminutive, compact, +and broad figure, over which the large head, with its earnestness of +expression, seemed so incongruous, and which moved on with so much +gravity, while the socks fell from the naked calves over the heels--all +this excited the merriment of the other children; and when, arm-in-arm +with his little schoolmate, he thus moved on, the other urchins in +great glee shouted after him: "Napoleone di mezza calzetta dall' amore +a Giacominetta!" ("Napoleon in socks is the lover of the little +Giacominetta!") + +The boy endured these taunts with the stoic composure of a philosopher, +but never after did he offer his arm to the little Giacominetta, and +never afterward did his socks hang down over his heels. + +When from this "mixed school" he passed into a boys' school, the little +Napoleon distinguished himself above all the other boys by his ambition, +his deep jealousy, his perseverance at learning and studying, and he +soon became the favorite of the Abbe Recco, [Footnote: Napoleon, in his +testament, written at St. Helena, willed a fixed sum of money to this +Professor Recco, in gratitude for the instruction given him in his +youth.] who taught at the royal college of Ajaccio as professor. A few +times every week the worthy professor would gather his pupils in a large +hall, to read them lectures upon ancient history, and especially upon +the history of Rome; and, in order to give to this hall a worthy and +significant ornament, he had it adorned on either side with two large +and costly banners, one of which had the initials S. P. Q. E., and +represented the standard of ancient Rome; facing it and on the opposite +side of the hall was the standard of Carthage. + +Under the shadows of these standards were ranged the seats for the +scholars, and in the vacant centre of the large hall was the professor's +chair, from which the Abbe Recco dictated to his pupils the history of +the heroic deeds of ancient Rome. + +The elder children sat under the larger standard, under the standard of +Rome, and the junior boys immediately opposite, under the standard of +Carthage; and as Napoleon Bonaparte was the youngest scholar of the +institution, he sat near the Carthaginian standard, whilst his brother +Joseph, his senior by five years, had his seat facing him on the Roman +side. Though at the commencement of the lectures Napoleon's delight had +been great, and though he had listened with enthusiasm to the history +of the struggles, and to the martial achievements of the ancient Romans, +the little Napoleon soon manifested an unmistaken repugnance to attend +these lectures. He would turn pale, as with his brother he entered the +hall, and with head bowed low, and dark, angry countenance, took his +seat. A few days afterward he declared to his brother Joseph, his lips +drawn in by anguish, that he would no more attend the lectures. + +"And why not?" asked Joseph, astonished. "Do you take no interest in the +Roman history? Can you not follow the lecture?" + +The little Napoleon darted upon his brother a look of inexpressible +contempt. "I would be a simpleton if the history of heroes did not +interest me," said he, "and I understand everything the good Professor +Recco says--I understand it so well that I often know beforehand what +his warriors and heroes will do." + +"Well, then, since you have such a lively interest in the history of the +Romans, why will you no more follow the lectures?" + +"No, I will not, I cannot," murmured Napoleon, sadly. + +"Tell me, at least, the reason, Napoleon," said his brother. + +The boy looked straight before him, for a long time hesitating and +undecided; then he threw up his head in a very decided manner, and gazed +on his brother with flaming eyes. + +"Yes," cried he, passionately, "I will tell you! I can no longer endure +the shame to sit down under the standard of the conquered and humiliated +Carthaginians. I do not deserve to be so disgraced." + +"But, Napoleon," said Joseph, laughing, "why trouble yourself about the +standard of the old Carthaginians? One is just as well under it as under +the Roman standard." + +"Is it, then, the same to you under which standard you sit? Do you not +consider it as a great honor to sit under the standard of the victorious +Romans?" + +"I look upon the one as being without honor, and upon the other as being +without shame," said Joseph, smiling. + +"If it is so," cried out the little Napoleon, throwing himself on his +brother's neck, "if it is for you no great sacrifice, then, I implore +you to save me, to make me happy, for you can do it! Let us change +seats; give me your place under the standard of Rome, and take my place +instead." + +Joseph declared himself ready to do so, and when the two brothers came +next time to the lecture, Napoleon, with uplifted head and triumphant +countenance, took his seat under the standard of victorious Rome. + +But soon the expression of joy faded away from his face, and his +features were overcast, and with a restless, sad look, he repeatedly +turned himself toward his brother Joseph, who sat facing him under the +standard of the conquered race. + +Silent and sad he went home with Joseph, and when his mother questioned +him about the cause of his sorrow, he confessed, with tears in his +eyes, that he was a heartless egotist, that he had been unjust and cruel +toward Joseph, that he had cheated his brother of his place of honor and +had seated himself in it. + +It required the most earnest assurances of Joseph that he placed no +value whatever on the seat; it required all the persuasiveness and +authority of Letitia to appease the boy, and to prevail upon him to +resume the conquered seat. [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., +p.40.] + +As the course of instruction which the boys had received in Ajaccio was +not sufficient for the times, and for the capacities of his sons, their +father passed over to France with Joseph and Napoleon, to take advantage +of the favorable resources for a more complete education. + +Napoleon saw the time of departure approach with an apparently +indifferent mind, only his face was somewhat paler, he was still more +monosyllabic and more reserved than before; and his eyes, full of an +indescribable expression of tenderness and admiration, followed all the +movements of his mother, as if to print deeply in his soul the beloved +image, so as to take it with him beyond the seas, in all its freshness +and beauty. + +He wept not as he bade her farewell; not a word of sorrow or regret +did he speak, but he embraced his mother with impassioned fondness, +he kissed her hands, her forehead, her large black eyes, he sank down +before her and kissed her feet, then sprang up, and, after casting upon +her whole figure a deep, glowing look, he rushed away to embark at once, +without waiting for brother or father, who were yet bidding a touching +farewell to relatives and friends. + +Letitia gazed after her Napoleon with glowing and wide-open eyes; she +wept not, she complained not, but she pressed her two hands on her heart +as if to keep it from breaking asunder, from bleeding to death; then she +called all her children around her, and, folding them up in her arms, +exclaimed: "Join your hands and pray with me that our little Napoleon +may return home to us a noble and great man." + +As soon as they had prosperously landed in France, the father placed +his two sons in the college of Autun, and then travelled farther on +to Paris, there to obtain, through the influence of his patrons and +friends, a place for his daughter Marianne (afterward Elise) in St. +Cyr, an institution for the daughters of noblemen, and also a place for +Napoleon in the military school of Brienne. His efforts were crowned +with success; and whilst Joseph remained at college in Autun, Napoleon +had to part with him and go to Brienne. + +When the brothers bade farewell one to another, Joseph wept bitterly, +and his sighs and tears choked the tender words of farewell which his +quivering lips would have uttered. + +Napoleon was quiet, and as his eye moistened with a tear, he endeavored +to hide it, and turned aside ashamed of himself and nearly indignant, +for he did not wish the Abbe Simon, one of the professors of the +college, who was present at the parting of the brothers, to see his +unmanly tenderness. + +But the Abbe Simon had seen that tear, and when Napoleon was gone he +said to Joseph: "Napoleon has shed but one tear, but that tear proves +his deep sorrow as much as all your tears." [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi +Joseph," vol. i., p.26.] + +Taciturn and quiet as he had been in Ajaccio, the little Napoleon was +equally so at the military school of Brienne, where he remained from +his eleventh to his sixteenth year. His character had always something +sombre and hidden; his eye seemed turned more inwardly than outwardly; +and his fellowship with his books seemed to procure him a more pleasant +recreation than the company of his schoolmates, whose childish joys +and pleasures he despised or pretended to do so, because his limited +pecuniary resources did not allow him to share with them pleasures of an +expensive nature. + +But, though still and reserved, he always was friendly and courteous to +his comrades, grateful for every mark of friendship and kindness, and +always ready to protect the young and feeble against the overbearing +and the strong, censuring with grave authority every injustice, and with +Spartan harshness throwing his contempt into the very face of him who, +according to his standard, had offended against honor, the lofty spirit +and the dignity of a freeman. + +It could not fail that soon Napoleon should win over his schoolmates +a marked moral influence; that they would listen to him as if he were +their superior; that they should feel something akin to fear in presence +of the flashing eyes of this little boy of barely fourteen years, whose +pale, expressive countenance, when illumined with anger, almost seemed +to them more terrible than that of the irritated face of the teacher, +and whom they therefore more willingly and more unconditionally obeyed +than the principal of the establishment. + +One day the latter had forbidden the scholars to go to the fair in a +neighboring locality, because they had lately been guilty of excesses +on a similar occasion; and, so as to be sure that the scholars would not +trespass against his orders, the principal had the outside gate in the +front yard locked. + +This last circumstance kindled Napoleon's anger; he considered it as an +insult that the scholars should be treated as prisoners. + +"Had we been ordered in the name of the law to remain here," cried +he, "then honor itself would have claimed from us to remain, for law +commands obedience to our superiors. But since we are treated as slaves, +who are by main force compelled to submission, then honor claims from us +to prove to our oppressors that we are free beings, and that we desire +to remain such. We are treated as prisoners of war, kept under lock and +bolt, but no one has demanded our word of honor that we will make no +effort to escape this subjection. Whosoever has a brave heart and a soul +full of honor's love, let him follow me!" + +All the youngsters followed him without hesitation. More submissive to +this pale, small boy of fourteen years, than to the severe, strong, +and exalted principal, none dared oppose him as he stood in the garden, +facing a remote place in the wall, and giving orders to undermine it, +so as to make an outlet. All obeyed the given orders, all were animated +with burning zeal, with cheerful alacrity; and after an hour of earnest +labor the work was done, and the passage under the wall completed. + +The scholars wanted to rush with jubilant cries through the opening, and +gain their freedom outside of the wall, but Napoleon held them back. + +"I will go first," said he. "I have been your leader throughout this +expedition, now I will be the first to pass out, that upon me may fall +the punishment when we are discovered." + +The young men fell back silently and respectfully, while, proud and +stately as a field-marshal who gives the signal for the battle, Napoleon +passed through their ranks, to be the first from the crowd to go through +the newly-made passage. + +It could not fail that the daring of these "prisoners of war" should be +discovered, that the principal should be the very same day informed that +the young men had, notwithstanding his strict orders, notwithstanding +the closed gate, made a way for themselves, and had visited the +prohibited fair, while the principal believed them to be in the garden. + +A strict inquiry took place the next morning. With threatening tones, +the principal ordered the young men to name him who had guided them +to so unheard-of a deed, who had misled them into disobedience and +insubordination. But all were still; none wished to be a traitor, not +even when the principal promised to all full pardon, full impunity, if +they would but name the instigator of their guilty action. + +But as no one spoke, as no one would name him, Napoleon gave himself up +as the culpable one. + +"I alone am guilty," cried he, proudly. "I alone deserve punishment. +These have done only what I commanded them--they have but followed my +orders, nothing more. The guilt and the punishment are mine alone." + +The principal, glad to know the guilty one, kept his promise, and, +forgiving the rest, decided to punish only the one who acknowledged +himself to have been the leader. + +Napoleon was, therefore, sentenced to the severest and most degrading +punishment known in the institution--to the so-called "monk's penalty." +That is to say, the future young soldier, in the coarse woollen garment +of a mendicant friar, was on his knees, to devour his meal from an +earthen vessel in the middle of the dining-room, while all the other +boys were seated at the table. + +A deathly pallor overspread the face of the boy when he heard this +sentence. He had been for many days imprisoned in a cell with bread and +water, and he had without a murmur submitted to this correction, endured +already on a former occasion, but this degrading punishment broke his +courage. + +Stunned, as it were, and barely conscious, he allowed the costume of the +punishment to be put on, but when he had been led into the dining-room, +where all the scholars were gathered for the noonday meal, when he was +forced upon his knees, he sank down to the ground with a heavy sigh, and +was seized with violent convulsions. + +The rector himself, moved with deepest sympathy for the wounded spirit +of the boy, hastened to raise up Napoleon. At the same moment rushed +into the hall one of the teachers of the institution, M. Patrault, who +had just been informed of the execution which was about to be carried +out on Napoleon. With tears in his eyes, he hastened to Napoleon, and +with trembling hands tore from his shoulders the detestable garment, and +broke out at the same time in loud complaints that his best scholar, +his first mathematician, was to be dishonored and treated in an unworthy +manner. + +Napoleon, however, was not always the reserved, grave boy who took +no part in the recreations and pleasures of the rest of his young +schoolmates. Whenever these amusements were of a more serious, of a +higher nature, Napoleon gladly and willingly took a part in them. Now +and then in the institution, on festivals, theatrical representations +took place, and on these occasions the citizens of Brienne were allowed +to be present. + +But to maintain respectable order, every one who desired to be present +at the representation had to procure a card of admission signed by the +principal. On the day of the exhibition, at the different doors of the +institution, were posted guards who received the admission cards, and +whose strict orders were to let no one pass in without them. These +posts, which were filled by the scholars, were under the supervision +of superior and inferior officers, and were confided only to the most +distinguished and most praiseworthy students. + +One day, Voltaire's tragedy, "The Death of Caesar," was exhibited. +Napoleon had the post of honor of a first lieutenant for this festivity, +and with grave earnestness he filled the duties of his office. + +Suddenly at the entrance of the garden arose a loud noise and vehement +recriminations of threatening and abusive voices. + +It was Margaret Haute, the porter's wife, who wanted to come in, though +she had no card of admission. She was well known to all the students, +for at the gate of the institution she had a little stall of fruits, +eggs, milk, and cakes, and all the boys purchased from her every day, +and liked to jest and joke with the pleasant and obliging woman. + +Margaret Haute had therefore considered it of no importance to procure a +card of admission, which thing she considered to be superfluous for such +an important and well-known personage as herself. The greater was her +astonishment and anger when admission was refused, and she therefore +began to clamor loudly, hoping by this means to attract some of the +scholars, who would recognize her and procure her admittance. Meanwhile +the post guardian dared not act without superior orders, and the +inferior officer hastened to communicate the important event to the +first lieutenant, Napoleon de Bonaparte, and receive his decision. + +Napoleon, who ordinarily was kind to the fruit-vender, and gladly +jested with the humorous and coarse woman, listened to the report of +the lieutenant with furrowed brow and dark countenance, and with severe +dignity gave his orders: "Remove that woman, who takes upon herself +to introduce licentiousness into the camp." [Footnote: Afterward, when +First Consul, Napoleon sent for this woman and her husband to come to +Paris, and he gave them the lucrative position of porter at the castle +of Malmaison, which charge they retained unto their death.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE UNHAPPY MARRIAGE. + + +While the boy Napoleon de Bonaparte pursued his studies as a student in +Brienne, she, who was one day to share his greatness and his fame, had +already appeared on the world's stage as the wife of another. Josephine +Tascher de la Pagerie was already received in the highest society of +Paris as the Viscountess de Beauharnais. + +Every thing seemed to promise to the young couple a happy, secure +future, free from care. They were both young, wealthy, of good family, +and though the parents had planned this marriage and joined together +the hands of the young couple, yet it was their good fortune that love +should tie and strengthen the bond which mere expediency had formed. + +Yes, they loved one another, these young married people of sixteen and +eighteen. How could it have been otherwise, when they both met each +other with the candid and honest desire to make one another happy; when +each of them had been so well adapted to the other that their brilliant, +good, and beautiful qualities were so prominent that their eyes were +blinded to the possibility of imperfections and vices which perchance +remained in the obscure background of their virtue and of their +amiableness? + +Josephine had entered upon her marriage with a pure maiden heart, and +soon this heart glowed with enthusiasm for her young husband, who in +reality was well qualified to excite enthusiasm in a young maid and +instil into her a passionate attachment. Alexandre de Beauharnais was +one of the most brilliant and most beloved personages at the court +of Versailles. His face had all the beauty of regularity; his figure, +marked by a lofty, even if somewhat heavy form, was tall, well knit, +and of wonderful elasticity and energy; his manners were noble and +prepossessing, fine and natural. Even in a court so distinguished as +that of Versailles for many remarkable chevaliers, the Viscount de +Beauharnais was considered as one of the most lovely and most gifted: +even the young Queen Marie Antoinette honored him with special +distinction. She had called him the most beautiful dancer of Versailles, +and consequently it was very natural that up to the time of his marriage +he should be invited to every court-ball, and there should each time +enjoy the pleasure of being requested to dance with the queen. + +This flattering distinction of the Queen Marie Antoinette had naturally +made the young viscount the mark of attention of all these beautiful, +young, and coquettish ladies of Versailles. They used to say of him, +that in the dancing-room he was a zephyr, fluttering from flower to +flower, but at the head of his regiment he was a Bayard, dreaming only +of war and carnage. + +It was, therefore, quite natural that so brilliant and so preferred +a cavalier, a young man of so many varied accomplishments, a being +so impassioned, so gallant, should soon become the object of the most +tender and passionate fondness from a young wife, who in her quiet +native land had seen none to compare with him, and who became for her +the ideal of beauty, chivalry, elegance, and whom, in her devoted and +admiring love, she used to call her own Achilles. + +Josephine loved her husband; she loved him with all the devotedness and +fire of a creole; she loved him and breathed but for him, and to be with +him seemed to her life's golden, blessed dream. Added to all this, +came the joys and raptures of a Parisian life--these new, unknown, +diversified pleasures of society, these manifold distractions and +entertainments of the great city. Josephine abandoned herself to all +this with the joy and wantonness of an innocent, unsuspicious being. +With all these glorious things round about her, she felt as if +surrounded by a sea of blessedness and pleasure, and she plunged into it +with the quiet daring of innocency, which foresees not what breakers and +abysses this sea encloses under the shining surface. + +But these breakers were there, and against them was the happiness of +Josephine's love soon to be dashed to pieces. + +She loved her young husband with her whole heart, with all her soul. But +he, the young, the flattered Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais, he also +loved his young wife, whom the wish and will of his superiors had placed +at his side. + +He had not chosen her because he loved her, but only because he had +thought it expedient and advisable to become married, and because the +unknown Mademoiselle de la Pagerie had been offered to him as "a good +settlement." Perhaps, also, he had contracted this marriage to get rid +all at once of those manifold ties, intrigues, and attachments which his +open, unrestrained life of youth had woven around him, for his marriage +with the young creole had put an end to many love-intrigues which +perchance threatened to be inconvenient and burdensome. + +At first charmed by her foreign, unaccustomed appearance, transported by +her ingenuous grace, her sweet, lovely amiableness and freshness, he had +fully decided to love his young wife, and, with all the triumphant pride +of a lover, he had led Josephine into society, into the saloons. + +But his eye was not blinded by the ravishment of a real and true love, +and in the drawing-room he saw what, in the solitude of the residence +of Noisy, where the young couple had retired for a few weeks after their +marriage, he might never have missed--he saw that Josephine possessed +not the lofty elegance and the exquisite manners of the ladies of the +Parisian saloons. She always was a charming, artless, graceful young +woman, but she lacked the striking advantages of a real drawing-room +lady; she lacked that perfect self-possession, that pliancy of +refinement, that sparkling wit, and that penetration, which then +characterized the ladies of the higher Parisian society, and which the +young viscount had but lately so fondly and passionately admired in the +beautiful and celebrated Baroness de B. + +The viscount saw all these deficiencies of his young wife's social +education, and this darkened his brow and brought on his cheek the flush +of shame. He was cruel enough to reproach Josephine, in somewhat harsh +and imperious tones, of her lack of higher culture, and thus the first +matrimonial difference clouded the skies of marriage happiness, which +the young unsuspecting wife had believed would ever be bright with +sunshine. + +Josephine, however, loved her young husband too fondly not to cheerfully +comply with all his wishes, not to strive to replace what he reproached +her to be lacking. + +On a sudden she left the brilliant, enchanting Paris, which had +entranced her with its many joys and its many distractions, and, as her +husband had to be for some time at Blois with his regiment, she went +to Noisy, to her aunt's residence, so as to labor at her higher mental +culture, at the side of the lovely and intellectual Madame de Renaudin. + +Josephine had hitherto, as a simple, sentimental young lady, played the +guitar, and chirped with it, in her fresh but uncultivated voice, her +sweet songs of love. She gave up the guitar, the favorite instrument of +the creoles, and exchanged it for the harp, for which attainment as well +as for the art of singing she procured the best and ablest masters. Even +a dancing-master had to come to Noisy to give to the young viscountess +that perfection of art which would enable her, without fear, to dance at +a ball alongside of the Viscount de Beauharnais, "the beautiful dancer +of Versailles." With her aunt she read the works of the writers and +poets who were then praised and loved, and with wonderful predilection +she also studied botany, to which science she ever clung during her +life, and which threw on her existence gleams of joy when the sun of her +happiness had long set. + +Josephine, who out of pure love for her husband learned and studied +zealously, communicated to the viscount, in her letters, every +advancement she made in her studies; and she was proud and happy when he +applauded her efforts, and when in his letters he praised her assiduity +and her progress. + +But evidently these letters of the viscount contained nothing of that +love and ardor which the young fiery creole longed for from her +husband; they were not the utterances of a young, anxious lover, of an +enthusiastic, worshipping husband; but they were addressed to Josephine +with the quiet, cool benignity of a considerate friend, of a mentor, of +a tutor who knows full well how much above his pupil soars his own mind, +and with what supreme deference this pupil must look up to him. + +"I am delighted," wrote he once--"delighted at your zeal to acquire +knowledge and culture; this zeal, which we must ever cherish, is ever +the source of purest enjoyments, and possesses the glorious advantage, +when we follow its dictates, of never producing any grief. If you +persevere in the resolution you have taken, if you continue to labor +with unabated zeal at your personal improvement, be assured that the +knowledge you will have acquired will exalt you highly above all others; +and whereas science and modesty will be combined in you, you will +succeed in becoming an accomplished woman. The talents which you +cultivate have their pleasant side, and if you devote to them a portion +of the day, you will unite the agreeable to the useful." [Footnote: +"Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 110.] + +This is what Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted. His wife, through her +knowledge, was to be highly exalted above all others. She was to study +the sciences, and become what is now called a learned woman, but what +was then termed a philosophical woman. + +The ambition of the ardent viscount required that his young wife should +be the rival of his learned, verse-writing aunt, the Baroness Fanny +de Beauharnais; that Josephine, if not the most beautiful and most +intellectual woman of Paris, should be the most accomplished. + +But these extravagant expectations did not, unfortunately, coincide +entirely with the tastes and mental tendencies of Josephine. No one was +less qualified than she to be a philosophical woman, and to make the +sciences a serious study. It was far from her ambition to desire to +shine by her knowledge; and the learned and scientific Baroness de +Beauharnais only excited fear and antagonism on account of her stiff and +pretentious pedantry, which seemed to Josephine to have but little in +harmony with a woman's being. + +Josephine loved the sciences and the arts, but she did not wish to +convert herself into their devoted priestess. She wished merely to adorn +herself with their blossoms, to take delight in their fragrance, and to +rejoice in their beauty. With instinctive sentiment she did not wish to +have the grace and youthful freshness of her womanly appearance marred +by knowledge; her heart longed not for the ambition of being called a +learned woman; she only wished to be a beloved wife. + +But the viscount, instead of recognizing and cherishing the tender and +sacred treasures which reposed in the heart of his young wife, ridiculed +her for her sensitiveness; allowed himself, through displeasure at her +uncultivated mind, to utter unreasonable reproaches, and to act harshly +toward his wife; and her tears were not calculated to conciliate him +or to gain his heart. He treated Josephine with a sort of contemptuous +compassion, with a mocking superiority, and her young, deeply-wounded +soul, intimidated and bleeding, shrank back into itself. Josephine +became taciturn, embarrassed, and mute, in her husband's presence; she +preferred being silent, rather than by her conversation, which might not +appear intellectual and piquant enough for the viscount, to annoy and +irritate him. + +Confidence and harmony had flown away from the household of the young +couple. From his timid, silent wife, with tears in her eyes and a mute +complaint on her trembling lips, the husband rushed away into the world, +into society, to the boisterous joys of a garrison's life, or else to +the dangerous, intoxicating amusements which the refined world of the +drawing-rooms offered him. + +Scarcely after a two years' marriage, the young bridegroom was again the +zephyr of the drawing-room; and, breaking asunder the bonds with which +the marriage and the household had bound him, he fluttered again from +flower to flower, was once more the gallant cavalier of the belles, +forgot duty and wife, to pay his attentions and bring his homage to the +ladies of the court. + +But this neglect which she now experienced from her husband, this +evident preference for other women, suddenly awoke Josephine from her +painful resignation, from her quiet melancholy. The young, patient, +retreating wife was changed at once into an irritated lioness, and, +amid the refinements of the French polish, with all its gilded +accompaniments, uprose the glowing, impassioned, threatening creole. + +Josephine, wounded both in her vanity and in her love--Josephine wished +not and could not bear, as a passive, silent sufferer, the neglect of +her husband; he had insulted her as a woman, and the wrath of a woman +rose within her. She screened not her jealousy from her husband; she +reproached him for preferring other women to his wife, for neglecting +her for the sake of others, and she required that to her alone he should +do homage, that to her alone he should consecrate love and allegiance. +She wept, she complained, when she learned that, whilst she was left +at home unnoticed, he had been here and there in the company of other +women; she allowed herself to be so carried away by jealousy as to make +violent reproaches against her husband. + +But tears and reproaches are not in the least calculated to bring back +to a wife the heart of a husband, and jealousy recalls not a husband's +love, when that love has unfolded his pinions and flown away. It only +causes the poor butterfly to feel that marriage had tied its wings +with a thread, and that it constantly recalls him away, with the severe +admonitions of duty, from the beautiful flowers toward which he desires +to fly. + +The complaints and reproaches of Josephine, however much they proved her +love, had precisely the contrary effect from what she expected. Through +them she wanted to bring back her husband to her love, but she repelled +him further still; he flew away from her complaints to the merry society +of his friends, male and female, and left Josephine alone at Noisy to +weep over her wretchedness. + +Notwithstanding all this, they were both to be again reunited one to +another in a new bond of love and happiness. On the 3d of September, +1781, Josephine presented to her husband a son, the heir of his name, +and for whom the father had already so long craved. Alexandre came to +Noisy to be present at the birth of his child, and with true, sincere +affection he embraced son and mother, and swore everlasting love and +fidelity to both. + +But circumstances were stronger than the will of this young man of +twenty-two years. The monotonous life of Noisy, the quietude which +prevailed in the house on account of the young mother, could not long +retain captive the fiery young man. He endured this life of solitude, of +watching at the bedside, of listening to the child's cries, for a whole +week, and then was drawn away with irresistible attraction to Paris; +the father's tenderness could no longer restrain the glowing ardor, the +impassioned longings for distraction in the young man; and the viscount +left Noisy to lead once more in Paris or with his garrison the free, +unrestrained dissipations of his earlier days. + +Josephine was comfortless. She had hoped the son would retain the +father, but he left her alone, alone with the child, and with all the +torments of her jealousy. + +It is true, he came back now and then to see his son, his little Eugene, +and also to make amends to the young, sick, and suffering mother, by a +few days' presence, for the many days of absence. + +But Josephine, irritated, jealous, too young, too inexperienced to +reflect, Josephine committed the fault of receiving her husband every +time he came, with reproaches and complaints, and of meeting him +with violent scenes of jealousy and of offended dignity. The viscount +himself, so young, so impassioned, had not the patience to go with +calm indifference through the purgatory of such scenes. His proud heart +rebelled against the chains with which marriage would bind him; he was +angry with this woman who dared reproach him; he was the more vexed +that his conscience told him she was unjust toward him, that he was the +innocent one. He returned her complaints with deriding scorn; he allowed +himself to be carried away by her reproaches to the manifestation of +violent anger; and the tempest of matrimonial discord raged through this +house, which at first seemed to have been built for a temple of peace +and happiness. + +The parents of the young couple saw with deep, heartfelt concern the gap +deepening between them both, and which every day widened more and more, +and as their warnings and wishes now remained fruitless, they resolved +to try if a long absence might not heal the wounds which they both had +inflicted upon their own hearts. At the request of his father and of +Madame de Renaudin, the viscount undertook a long journey to Italy, from +which he returned only after nearly nine months' absence. + +What the relatives had hoped from this journey seemed to be realized. +The viscount returned home to his Josephine with a penitent, tender +heart; and Josephine, enchanted with his tenderness, with the pliant +loveliness of his whole being--Josephine, with a smile of blessedness +and with happy dreams of the future, rested once more on the bosom of +the man whom, even in her angry moods, she had never ceased to love. + +But after a few months passed in happiness and harmony, the viscount +was once more obliged to separate himself from his wife, to meet his +regiment, which was now in Verdun. Absence soon broke the slender +threads which had bound together the hearts of husband and wife. +Alexandre abandoned himself to his tendencies to dissipation, and +Josephine to her jealousy. During the frequent visits which the viscount +paid to his wife in Noisy, he was received with tears and reproaches, +which always ended in violent scenes of anger and bitterness. + +Such an existence, full of ever-recurring storms and ceaseless discord, +weighed heavily on the hearts of both husband and wife, and made them +long for an issue from this Labyrinth of an unhappy marriage. Yet +neither of them dreamed of a separation; not only their son, the little +Eugene, kept them from such thoughts, but also the new hopes which +Josephine carried in her bosom would have made such thoughts appear +criminal. It was necessary to endeavor to bear life as well as one +could, and not allow one's self to be too much lacerated by its thorns, +even if there was no further hope of gathering its roses. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, even if he lacked the skill of being a +faithful, devoted husband, was a noble and goodnatured man, whose +generous heart wanted to punish himself alone for the error of this +marriage, which weighed so heavily on husband and wife; and, in order +to procure peace to both, he resolved to become an exile, to tear away +pitilessly the attractive ties which society, friends, and women, had +woven around him. If he could not be a good husband, he might at least +be a good soldier; and, whereas his heart could not adopt the resolution +of devoting itself with exclusive affection to his wife, he resolved +to devote himself entirely to that love to which he had never been +disloyal, the love of fame. His ambitious nature longed for honors +and distinction; his restless, youthful courage craved for action and +battle-fields; and, as no opportunity offered itself on land, Alexandre +de Beauharnais decided to search on the seas for what was denied him on +land. + +The Marquis de Bouille, governor of Martinique, had just arrived in +France, to propose to the government a new expedition against the +British colonies in the Antilles. Already this fearless and enterprising +man, since he had been in Martinique, with the forces at his disposal, +with the help of the young creoles, and supported by the squadrons which +lay in Port Royal, had conquered Dominique, Grenada, St. Vincent, St. +Christophe, Mievres, and Montserrat, and now he contemplated an attack +upon the rich and important island of Jamaica, whose conquest he trusted +would force the English into peace. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais wanted nothing more attractive than to join +this important and daring enterprise of the Marquis de Bouille. With +recommendations from his uncle, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the +viscount hastened to the Marquis de Bouille, begged of him instantly the +privilege of serving under him, and offered his services as adjutant. + +The marquis received with kindness a young man so earnestly recommended, +and gave him the hope of fulfilling his wishes. These hopes were not, +however, realized; and the viscount, no longer able to endure the burden +of uncertainty and of domestic discord, decided to leave France on his +own responsibility, to sail for Martinique, and there to enlist as a +simple volunteer, under the orders of the governor. + +In September, 1782, he left Noisy for Brest, there to embark for +Martinique. At the hour of departure the love, which for so long had +been hidden under the dark cloud of jealousy and discord, awoke in all +its glow and energy in the hearts of the young couple. With streaming +eyes Josephine embraced her husband, and in the most touching tones +entreated him to remain with her, entreated him not to tear the father +away from the son, who already recognized him and stretched his little +hands toward him, nor from the child yet unborn in her bosom. Carried +away by so much intensity of affection, by such a fond, all-pardoning +love, Alexandre was deeply moved; he regretted the past, and the +decision he had taken to leave his wife and his family. All the sweet +emotions of peace, of home, of paternal bliss, of married life, overcame +him in this hour of farewell with, resistless power, and in Josephine's +arms he wept bitter tears of repentance, of love, of farewell. + +But these tears, no more than his wife's regrets, could make him waver +in his determination. + +The word of separation had been spoken, and it had to be fulfilled. Amid +the anguish of parting, he felt for himself the necessity of breaking, +by means of a long absence, with the evil practices of the past, and to +make amends for the sad errors of his youth. + +He left his home to win in a distant land the happiness which he had +in vain sought at the side of his wife, of his son, and of his family. +Before the ship upon which he was to embark for his journey weighed +anchor, he took a last farewell of his family in a letter addressed to +Madame de Renaudin. + +"I have," said he, "received the letter which tells of your good wishes +for the future, and I have read with the deepest interest the assurances +of your attachment. These assurances would still have been more +flattering to me, could they have convinced me that my actual course has +your approbation, and that you estimate rightly my determination, and +the sacrifice I am making. However, I have on my side conscience, which +applauds me for preferring, to the real, actual joys of a quiet +and pleasurable existence, the prospect, even if a remote one, +of preferment, which may secure me a distinguished position and a +distinction which may be of advantage to my children. The greater have +been my sacrifices, the more commendable it is to have made them; and if +chance only favors my determination, then the laurels I will win shall +make ample amends for all troubles and hardships, and shall change all +my anguish into joy!--Be kind enough, I pray you, to embrace for me, +my father, my wife, and Eugene!" [Forward: "Histoire de l'Imperatrice +Josephine," vol. i, p. 133.] + +It is evident that Alexandre de Beauharnais had gone to Martinique to +win fame and to fight for laurels. But chance favored not his resolves. +He had no sooner landed in Martinique, than the news spread that +negotiations had begun between England and France. M. de Bouille +received strict orders to make no attack on Jamaica; and a few weeks +after, on the 20th of January, 1783, the preliminaries of peace were +signed at Versailles. A few months later, peace was concluded, and all +the conquests made by the Marquis de Bouille were returned to England. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had then come in vain to Martinique. No fame +was to be won--no laurels could be gathered there. + +Unfortunately, however, the viscount found another occupation for his +restless heart, for the vague cravings of his affections. He made the +acquaintance there with a young creole, who had been a widow for the +last six months, and who had returned to Martinique from France to +pass there her year's mourning. But her heart had no mourning for her +deceased husband; it longed for Paris, it craved for the world and its +joys. She was yet, though a few years older than the viscount, a young +woman; she was beautiful--of that wondrous, enticing beauty peculiar to +the creoles; she was an accomplished mistress in the difficult art +of pleasing, and she formed the design of gaining the heart of the +impulsive Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais. This design was not +undertaken because he seemed worthy of love, but because she wanted to +revenge herself on the family of Tascher de la Pagerie, which family had +been for a long time at enmity with her own, and had given free and +open expression against the too easy manners and light behavior of +the beautiful widow. She wanted to take vengeance for these insults by +seducing from M. de la Pagerie his own son-in-law, and by enjoying the +triumph of having charmed away the husband from his daughter. + +The proverb says, "What woman will, woman can!" and what the beautiful +Madame de Gisard wanted was not so very hard to achieve. All she wished +was to hold complete sway over the heart of a young man who felt heavily +burdened with the fetters of marriage; who, now that the schemes of +ambition had failed, reproached his young wife that she was the cause of +his misfortune; that for her sake he had exiled himself from home, and +sentenced himself to the dulness and loneliness of a village-life in +Martinique. The society of the beautiful Madame de Gisard brought at +least novelty and distraction to this loneliness; she gave occupation +to the heart weary with connubial storms; she excited his fancy and his +desires. + +Madame de Gisard knew how to use all these advantages; she wanted to +triumph over the family of De la Pagerie, she wanted to return to Paris +in the company of a young, handsome, and distinguished lover. + +It was not enough to win the love of the viscount; she had to drive +him into the resolution of separating from his wife, of accusing her of +unfaithfulness and guilt, so as to have the right of casting her away, +in order that she herself might openly occupy her place. Madame de +Gisard had the requisite talent to carry out her plans, and to acquire +full control over the otherwise rebellious and proud heart of the young +man. She first began to lead him into open rupture with his father +and mother-in-law. Through respect for them, the viscount had avoided +appearing in public with Madame de Gisard, and betraying the intimacy +which existed between them. Madame de Gisard ridiculed his bashfulness +and submissive spirit; she considered this servility to the head of +the family as absurd, and she drove the viscount by means of scorn and +sarcasm to open revolt. + +Then, after separating him from his wife's family, she attacked the wife +herself. With all the cunning and smoothness of a seducing demon, she +encompassed the young man's heart, and filled it with mistrust against +Josephine. She accused the forsaken one with levity and unfaithfulness; +she filled his heart with jealousy and rancor; she used all the means of +perfidy and calumny of which a woman is capable, and in which she finds +a refuge when her object is to ruin, and she succeeded completely. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was now entirely hers; he was gathering against +Josephine anger and vengeance; and even when he received the news that, +on the 13th of April, 1783, his young wife had given birth to a daughter +at Noisy, his soul was not moved by soft emotions, by milder sentiments +of reconciliation. + +Madame de Gisard had taught him that henceforth he need no more be on +the defensive in reference to the reproaches of Josephine, but that he +now must be the aggressor; that, to justify his own guiltiness, he must +accuse his wife of guilt. She had offered herself as the price of his +reconquered freedom; and the viscount, overcome with love, anger, and +jealousy, was anxious to become worthy of this price. + +He left Martinique and returned to Noisy, not to embrace and bless his +daughter Eugenie Hortense, but to bow down the mother's head with the +curse of shame. He accused, without listening to any justification, and, +with all the vehemence of misguided passion, he asked for an immediate +separation, an immediate divorce. Vain were the expostulations, the +prayers of his father and of Madame de Renaudin. Vain were the tears, +the assurances of innocence from Josephine. The tears of an injured +woman, the prayers of his sorrowing relatives, were impotent against the +whisperings and the seducing smiles of the beautiful Madame de Gisard, +who had secretly accompanied him to France, and who had now over him an +unconditional sway. + +The viscount brought before Parliament a complaint for separation from +his wife, and based it upon the most improbable and most shameless +accusations. + +Josephine, who, for two years in loneliness and abandonment, had awaited +the return of her husband; Josephine, who had always hoped, through the +voice of her children, to recall her husband to herself, saw herself +suddenly threatened with a new, unexpected tempest. Two years of +suffering were finally to be rewarded by a scandalous process, which +exposed her person to the idle and malicious tongues of the Parisians. + +She had, however, to submit to fate; she had to bow her head to the +storm, and trust for her justification to the mercy of God and to the +justice of the Parliament. During the time of the process she withdrew, +according to custom, into a convent, and for nearly one year hid herself +with her shame and her anguish in the abbey of Pantemont, in the street +Grenelle, St. Germain. However, she was not alone; her aunt, Madame +de Renaudin, accompanied her, and every day came the Marquis de +Beauharnais, her husband's father, bringing her the children, who, +during the time of the unfortunate process, were to remain at Noisy, +under the guardianship of their grandfather and of a worthy governess. +The members of her husband's family rivalled each other in their +manifestations of affection to a woman so much injured and so +incriminated, and openly before the world they declared themselves +against the viscount, who, blinded by passion and entirely in the chains +of this ensnaring woman, was justifying the innocency of his wife by +his own indiscreet demeanor--by the public exhibition of his passion +for Madame de Gisard, and thus caused the accusations launched against +Josephine to recoil upon his own head. + +At last, after one year of debates, of careful considerations and +investigations, of receiving evidence, and of hearing witnesses, the +Parliament pronounced its decision. + +Josephine was declared absolutely innocent of the crimes brought against +her, and was entirely acquitted of the accusation of unfaithfulness. The +Parliament pronounced the solemn decree: The accusation directed against +the Viscountess de Beauharnais was simply a malicious calumny. The +innocency of the accused wife was evident, and consequently the Viscount +de Beauharnais was bound to receive again his wife into his house. +However, the viscountess was permitted and allowed not to share the same +residence with her husband, and to separate herself from him. In this +case the viscount was condemned to pay to his wife an annual pension of +ten thousand francs, and to leave with her mother his daughter Eugenie +Hortense, while he, the father, should provide for the education of the +son. + +Exonerated from the disgraceful imputation of faithlessness, Josephine +was again free to leave the convent and return to the life of the world. +It was her husband's family which now prepared for the poor young +woman the most beautiful and most touching triumph. The father of her, +accuser, the Marquis de Beauharnais, as well as his elder son and wife, +the Duke and Duchess de la Rochefoucauld, and the Baroness Fanny de +Beauharnais, came in their state carriages to the abbey to receive +Josephine and lead her back to Paris. They had been joined by a great +number of the most respectable and most noble ladies of the Parisian +aristocracy, all in their state carriages, and in the splendor of their +armorial trappings and liveries, as if it were to accompany a queen +returning home. + +Josephine shed tears of blessed joy when quitting her small, sombre +rooms in the abbey. She entered into the reception-room to bid farewell +to the prioress, and there met all these friends and relatives, who +saluted her with looks of deepest tenderness and sympathy, and embraced +her in their arms as one found again, as one long desired. This hour of +triumph indemnified her for the sorrows and sufferings of the unhappy +year which the poor wife of scarcely twenty years of age, and fleeing +from calumny and hatred, liar! sighed away in the desolate and lonesome +convent. She was free, she was justified; the disgrace was removed from +her head; she was again authorized to be the mother of her children; she +saw herself surrounded by loving parents, by true friends, and yet in +her heart there was a sting. Notwithstanding his cruelty, his harshness, +though he had abandoned and despised her, her heart could not be forced +into hating the husband for whom she had so much wept and suffered. +Her tears had impressed his image yet deeper in her heart. He was +the husband of her first love, the father of her children; how could +Josephine have hated him, how could her heart, so soft and true, cherish +animosity against him? + +At the side of her husband's father, and holding her daughter in +her arms, Josephine entered Paris. Behind them came a long train of +brilliant equipages, of relatives and friends. The passers-by stopped to +see the brilliant procession move before them, and to ask what it meant. +Some had recognized the viscountess, and they told to others of the +sufferings and of the acquittal of the poor young woman; and the people, +easily affected and sympathizing, rejoiced in the decision of the +Parliament, and with shouts and applause followed the carriage of the +young wife. + +The marquis, her father-in-law, turned smilingly to Josephine. + +"Do you see, my daughter," said he, "what a triumph you enjoy, and how +much you are beloved and recognized?" + +Josephine bent down toward the little Hortense and kissed her. + +"Ah," said she, in a low voice, "we are returning home, but the father +of my children will not bid us welcome. For a pressure of his hand, +for a kind word from him, I would gladly give the lofty triumph of this +hour." + +No, Alexandre de Beauharnais did not bid welcome to Josephine in his +father's house, which they had occupied together. Ashamed and irritated, +he had sped away from Paris, and returned to his regiment at Verdun. + +On the arm of the Marquis de Beauharnais, Josephine traversed the +apartments in which she had lived with her husband, and which she now +saw again as a widow, whom not death but life had separated from her +husband. Her father-in-law saw the tears standing in her eyes, and, +with the refined sympathy of a sensitive mind, he understood the painful +thoughts which agitated the soul of the young wife. + +He fondly folded her in his arms, and laid his blessing hand on the head +of the little Hortense. + +"I have lost my son Alexandre," said he, "but I have found in his stead +a daughter. Yes, Josephine, you are and will remain my daughter, and to +you and to your children I will be a true father. My son has parted from +us, but we remain together in harmony and love, and as long as I live my +daughter Josephine will never want a protector." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. TRIANON AND MARIE ANTOINETTE. + + +Whilst the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais, the empress of the +future, was living in enforced widowhood, the life of Marie Antoinette, +the queen of the present, resembled a serene, golden, sunny dream; her +countenance, beaming with youth, beauty, and grace, had never yet been +darkened with a cloud; her large blue eyes had not yet been dimmed with +tears. + +In Fontainebleau, whither Josephine had retired with her father-in-law, +who through unfortunate events had lost the greatest part of his +fortune--in Fontainebleau lived the future Empress of France in sad +monotony; in Versailles, in Trianon, lived the present Queen of France +in the dazzling splendor of her glory, of her youth, and of her beauty. +In Trianon--this first gift of love from the king to his wife--the Queen +of France dreamed life away in a pleasant idyl, in a joyous pastoral +amusement; there, she tried to forget that she was queen, that is to +say, that she was the slave of etiquette; there she tried to indemnify +herself for the tediousness, the emptiness, the heartlessness of the +great festivals in the Tuileries and in Versailles. + +In Trianon, Marie Antoinette desired to be the domestic wife, the +pleasant, youthful woman, as in the Tuileries and at Versailles she was +the proud and lofty queen. Marie Antoinette felt her days obscured by +the splendors of royalty; the crown weighed heavily on her beautiful +head, which seemed made for a crown of myrtle and roses; life's +earnestness had not yet cast its breath on those rosy cheeks and robbed +of youth's charm the smile on those crimson lips. + +And why should not Marie Antoinette have smiled and been joyous? Every +thing shone round about her; every thing seemed to promise an enduring +harvest of felicity, for the surface of France was calm and bright, and +the queen's vision had not yet been made keen enough by experience to +penetrate below this shining surface and see the precipices already +hidden underneath. + +These precipices were yet covered with flowers, and the skies floating +above them seemed yet cloudless. The French people appeared to retain +yet for the royal family that enthusiastic devotedness which they had +manifested for centuries; they fondly proclaimed to the queen, whenever +she appeared, their affection, their admiration; they were not weary +with the expressions of their rapture and their worship, and Marie +Antoinette was not weary of listening to these jubilant manifestations +with which she was received in the theatre, on the streets, in the +gardens of the Tuileries, on the terraces of Versailles; she was not +weary of returning thanks with a friendly nod or with a gracious smile. + +All the Parisians seemed still to be, as once, at the arrival of the +Dauphin, they had been called by the Baron de Vesenval, "the queen's +lovers," and also to rival one another in manifesting their allegiance. + +Even the fish-women of Paris shared the general enthusiasm; and when, +in 1781, the queen had given to her husband a son, and to his people +a future monarch, the ladies of "the Halls" were amongst the most +enthusiastic friends of the queen. They even came to Versailles to +congratulate the royal couple on the dauphin's birth, to salute the +young dauphin as the heir to the crown of France, and to sing under the +window of the king some songs, one of which so pleased the king that +oftentimes afterward, in his quiet and happy hours, he used to sing +a verse of it with a smile on his lip. This Terse, which even Marie +Antoinette sang, ran thus: + + "Ne craignez pas, cher papa, + D' voir augmenter vot' famille, + Le bon Dieu z'y pourvoira: + Faits-en taut qu' Versailles en fourmille; + Yeut-il cent Bourbons cheu nos + Ya du pain, du laurier pour tous." + +[Footnote: Madaine ile Carapan, "Histoire de Marie Antoinette," vol. i., +p. 218.] + +In Trianon, Marie Antoinette passed her happiest hours and days; there, +the queen changed herself into a shepherdess; there, vanished from her +the empty splendors of purple and ermine, of etiquette and ceremonial; +there, she enjoyed life in its purity, in its innocency, in its +naturalness; such was the ideal Marie Antoinette wished to realize in +Trianon. + +A simple dress of white muslin, a light kerchief of gauze, a straw hat +with a gayly-colored ribbon, such was the attire of the queen and of the +princesses whom Marie Antoinette invited. For the only etiquette which +prevailed at Trianon was this: that no one from the court, even princes +or princesses, should come to Trianon without having received an +invitation from the queen to that effect. Even the king submitted to +this ceremonial, and had expressly promised his consort never to come to +Trianon without an invitation, and, so as to please the queen, no sooner +did she announce her intention of retiring to her country-residence, +than he was always the first who hastened to obtain the favor of an +invitation. + +In Trianon, Louis ceased to be king as well as Marie Antoinette ceased +to be queen. There Louis XVI. was but the farmer of the lady of the +castle; the Count d'Artois was the miller, and the learned Count de +Provence, the schoolmaster. For each of them had been erected in +the gardens of Trianon a separate house suited to their respective +avocations. + +The farmer Louis had his farm-house built in Swiss style, with a balcony +of finely-carved wood at the gable-end, and with stalls attached to the +house, and where bellowed the stately red cows of Switzerland; behind +the house was a small garden in which the variegated convolvulus and the +daisy shed their fragrance. + +The Count d'Artois had, near the stream which flowed through the park, +his miller's house, with an enormous wheel, made of wooden spokes joined +together, and which moved lustily in the water, and adorned the clear +brook with wavelets of foam. + +The Count de Provence had, under the shadow of a mulberry-tree, +his house, with a large school-room in it; and oftentimes the whole +court-society were converted into scholars of both sexes, who took their +seats on the benches of the school-room, whilst the Count de Provence, +in a long coat with lead buttons and with an immense rod in his hand, +ascended the cathedra and delivered to his school-children a humorous +and piquant lecture, all sparkling with wit. + +The princesses also had in this "grove of Paradise," as Marie Antoinette +called the woods of Trianon, their cottages, where they milked cows, +made butter, and searched for eggs in the hens' nests. In the midst of +all these cottages and Swiss houses stood the cottage of the farming +Marie Antoinette; it was the finest and the most beautiful one of all, +adorned with vases full of fragrant blossoms and surrounded by flowering +plants and by cozy bowers of verdure. This cottage was the highest +delight of the queen's life, the enchanting toy of her happiness. Even +the little castle of Trianon, however simple and modest, seemed too +splendid for the taste of the pastoral queen. For in Trianon one +was always reminded that the lady of this castle was a queen; there, +servants were in livery; there, officials and names and titles were to +be found, even when etiquette was forbidden entrance into the halls of +the little castle of Trianon. Marie Antoinette was no more queen there, +it is true, but she was the lady of the palace to whom the highest +respect was shown, and who therefore had been constrained expressly and +strictly to order that at her entrance into the drawing-rooms the ladies +would not interrupt the piece begun on the piano, nor stand up if seated +at their embroidery, and that the gentlemen would keep on undisturbed +their billiard-party or their game at trictrac. + +But in her cottage all rank disappeared; there, was no distinction; +there, ceased the glory of name and title, and no sooner was the castle +abandoned for the cottages than each named the other with some Arcadic, +pastoral appellation, and each busied himself with his rural avocations. +How lustily the laughter, how merrily the song sounded from these +cottages amid these bowers and groves; how the countenance of the +farming-lady was lighted up with happiness and joy; with what delight +rested upon her the eye of the farmer Louis, who in his blue blouse, +with a straw hat on his head, with a rosy, fleshy, good-natured face, +was exactly fitted for his part, and who found it no difficult task to +hide under the farmer's garment the purple of the king! + +How often was Marie Antoinette seen in her simple white dress, her +glowing countenance shaded by a straw hat, bounding through the garden +as light as a gazelle, and going from the barn to the milk-room, +followed by the company she had invited to drink of her milk and eat of +her fresh eggs! How often, when the farmer Louis had secreted himself +in a grove for the sake of reading, how often was he discovered there by +the queen, torn away from his book and drawn to a dejeuner on the +grass! When that was over, and Louis had gone back to his book, Marie +Antoinette hastened to her cows to see them milked, or she went into the +rocking-boat to fish, or else reposed on the lawn, busy as a peasant, +with her spindle. + +But this quiet occupation detained not long the lively, spirited +farming-lady; with a loud voice, she called to her maids or companions +from the cottages, and then began those merry, unrestrained amusements +which the queen had introduced into society, and which since then have +been introduced not only into the drawing-rooms of the upper classes, +but also into the more austere circles of the wealthy burghers. + +Then the queen with her court played at blindman's bluff, at pampam, +or at a game invented by the Duke de Chartres, the future Duke Philippe +d'Orleans, Egalite, and which game was called "descamper," a sort of +hide-and-seek amusement, in which the ladies hid themselves in the shady +bushes and groves, to be there discovered by the gentlemen, and then +to endeavor by flight to save themselves, for if once caught and seized +they had to purchase their liberty with a kiss. + +When evening came all left the cottages for the little castle, and +the pastoral recreations gave way to the higher enjoyments of refined +society. Marie Antoinette was not in the castle of Trianon queen again, +but she was not either the simple lady of the farm, she was the lady of +the castle, and--the first amateur in the theatrical company which twice +a week exhibited their pieces in the theatre of Trianon. + +These theatrical performances were quite as much the queen's delight as +her pastoral occupations in her farm cottages, and Marie Antoinette +was unwearied in learning and studying her parts. She had chosen for +teachers two pensioned actors, Caillot and Dazincourt, who had to come +every day to Trianon to teach to the noble group of actors the +small operas, vaudevilles, and dramas, which had been chosen for +representation, and in which the queen naturally always played the +part of first amateur, while the princesses, the wives of the Counts de +Provence and Artois, the two Countesses de Polignac, undertook the other +parts, even those of gentlemen, when the two brothers of the king, the +only male members of this theatrical company, could not assume all the +gentlemen's parts. + +At first the audience at these representations was very limited. Only +the king, the princes and the princesses of the royal household, not +engaged in the performance, constituted the audience; but afterward it +was found that to encourage the actors a little, a larger audience +was needed; then the boxes were filled with the governesses of the +princesses, the queen's waiting-women, whose sisters and daughters with +a few other select ladies had been invited. + +It was natural that those who had been thus preferred, and who enjoyed +the privilege of seeing the Queen of France, the princes and princesses, +appear as actors, should be full of admiration and applause at the +talents displayed by the royal troupe; and as they alone formed the +select audience, whose presence had for object to animate the artistes, +they had also assumed the duty to excite and to vitalise the zeal +and the fire of the players by their enthusiasm and by their liberal +praises. + +This applause of a grateful public blinded the royal actors as to their +real merits, and excited in them the ambition to exhibit their artistic +talents before a larger audience and to be admired. Consequently, the +queen granted to the officers of the lifeguard and to the masters of the +king's stalls and to their brothers, admittance into the theatre; the +gentlemen and ladies of the court had seats in the gilt boxes; a larger +number of ladies were invited, and soon from all sides came requests for +tickets of admission to the theatrical performances in the Trianon. + +The same privileges which had been allowed to a few could not be, and +it was not desirable that they should be, granted to all; those who were +purposely refused revenged themselves of this refusal by an unsparing +criticism on the performers and by bitter sarcasm at the Queen of +France, who so far forgot her dignity as to play comedies before her +subjects, and who played her part not always in such a manner as to give +to a sharp criticism no reason for blame. + +The queen possessed, it is true, the desire, but not the ability, to be +an actress or a songstress. When she played the part of a comedian, no +one felt tempted to laugh; but contrariwise it might often happen that, +when her part was tragical, impressive and touching even to tears, the +faces of her auditors brightened with involuntary laughter. + +Once even it happened that a person from the audience, when the queen +had not yet left the stage, cried aloud, and perhaps with the intention +of being heard by her: "One must confess that royal acting is bad +acting!" + +Though she understood the words, yet the smile on her lips vanished not +away; and as the Countess Diana de Polignac wished to persuade her to +allow the impertinent one who had spoken these words, to be sought out +and punished, the queen, shrugging her shoulders answered: "My friend, I +say as Madame de Maintenon: 'I am upon the stage, and must therefore be +willing to be applauded or hissed.'" + +Yes, she had to endure the applause or the hissing. Unfortunately, the +number of those who hissed grew every day. The queen had provoked public +expression since she bade it defiance. On the day she banished etiquette +from its watchful duty at the apartments of the Queen of France, the +public expression with its train of slanders and maliciousness entered +in through the open portals. The queen was blamed for her theatricals as +well as for her simple, unadorned toilet, yet she was imitated in these +two things, as even before the costly and luxurious toilet, the high +head-gears of the queen, and also blindman's buff and descamper, had +been imitated. Every woman now wanted such a simple negligee, such a +headdress, such a feather as Marie Antoinette. As once before, Madame +Bertin, the celebrated milliner of the queen, had been circumvented to +furnish a pattern of the queen's coiffure, so now all the ladies rushed +upon her in flocks to procure the small caps, fichus, and mantelets, +after the queen's model. The robes with long trains, the court-dresses +of heavy silk, jewels and gold ornaments, were on a sudden despised; +every thing which could add brilliancy and dignity to the toilet was +banished, the greatest simplicity and nonchalance were now the fashion; +every lady strove, if possible, to resemble a shepherdess of Watteau, +and it was soon impossible to distinguish a duchess from an actress. + +Not only the ladies but also the gentlemen were carried away by this +flood of novelty. They gave up the boots with red heels, the embroidered +garments, as already before they had given up laces, bandelets, gold +fringes, and diamond buttons on the hats; they put on simple coats of +cloth as the burgher and the man of the people wore; they abandoned +their equipages, with their brilliant armorial trappings and the golden +liveries, and found satisfaction in promenading the streets, with cane +in hand, and with boots instead of buckled shoes. + +It is true these street promenadings of the nobility were not oftentimes +without inconvenience and molestation. As without the insignia of their +rank and position they mixed with the society of the streets, entered +into taverns and cafes, the people took them for what they seemed to be, +for their equals, and instead of respectfully making way for them, +the people claimed as much attention from them as they themselves were +willing to give. Often enough disputes and scuffles took place between +the disguised nobleman and the man of the people, the laborer, or the +commissionnaire, and at such experiments of hand to hand the victory was +not to the nobleman, but to the fist of the man, of the people. + +The novelty of such scenes excited the fastidious aristocracy; it became +a sort of passion to mix with the people, to frequent the cabarets, to +strike some bargain at trade, to be the hero of a fist-fight, even if +it ended by the stout workmen throwing down the aristocrats who had +despised them. To be thrown down was no more considered by the nobility +as a disgrace, and they applauded these affrays as once they had +applauded duelling. + +The aristocracy mixed with the people, adopted their manners and usages, +even much of their mode of thinking, of their democratic opinions, and, +by divesting themselves of their external dignity, of their halo, the +nobility threw down the barrier of separation which stood between them +and the democracy; that respect and esteem which the man of the people +had hitherto maintained toward the nobleman vanished away. + +The principle of equality, which was to have such fatal consequences for +France, arose from the folly of the aristocracy; and Marie Antoinette +was the one who, with her taste for simplicity, with her opposition to +etiquette and ceremony, had called this principle into life. + +Not only was the queen imitated in her simplicity, she was also imitated +in her love of comedy. These theatrical amusements of the queen were +a subject of reproach, and yet these private recreations of Marie +Antoinette were the fashion of the day. The taste for theatrical +representations made its way into all classes of society; soon there was +no nobleman, no banker, not even a respectable, well-to-do merchant, +who had not in his house a small theatre, and who, with his family and +friends, endeavored not to emulate on his own narrow stage the manners +of the celebrated actors. + +Before these days, a nobleman would have considered himself insulted and +dishonored if he had been supposed to have become a comedian, or even +to have assumed a comedian's garb, were it but in the home-circle. The +queen by her example had now destroyed this prepossession, and it was +now so much bon ton to act a comedy that even men of gravity, even the +first magistrate of Paris, could so much forget the dignity of position +as to commit to memory and even to act some of the parts of a buffoon. +[Footnote: Montjoie, "Histoire de Marie Antoinette, Reine de France."] + +It was also soon considered to be highly fashionable to set one's self +against the prejudice which had been hitherto fostered against +actors; and, whereas the queen took lessons in singing from Garat, the +opera-singer, and even sang duets with her, she threw down the wall of +partition which had hitherto separated the artistes of the stage from +good society. + +Unfortunate queen, who, with the best qualities of the heart, was +preparing her own ruin; who understood not that the freedom and license +which she herself granted, would soon throw on the roof of the Tuileries +the firebrand which reduced to dust and ashes the throne of the +Bourbons!--unfortunate queen, who in her modesty would so gladly forget +her exaltation and her majesty, and who thereby taught her subjects to +make light of majesty and to despise the throne! + +She saw not yet the abyss opening under her feet; the flowers of Trianon +hid it from her view! She heard not the distant mutterings of the public +mind, which, like the raging wave of the storm, swelled up nearer and +nearer the throne to crush it one day under the howling thunders of the +unshackled elements of the unloosed rage of the people! + +The skies, arching over the fragrant blossoms of the charming Trianon, +and over the cottages of the farming queen, were yet serene and +cloudless, and the voice of public opinion was yet drowned in the joyous +laughter which echoed from the cottages of Trianon, or in the sweet +harmonies which waved in the concert-hall, when the queen, with Garat, +or with the Baron de Vaudreuil, the most welcome favorite of the ladies, +and the most accomplished courtier of his day, sang her duets. + +Repose and peace prevailed yet in Trianon, and the loyal subjects of the +King of France made their pilgrimages to Trianon, there to admire the +idyls of the queen and to watch for the favorable opportunity of espying +the queen, Marie Antoinette, in her rustic costume, with a basket of +eggs on her arm, or the spindle in hand, and to be greeted by her with +a salutation, a friendly word. For Marie Antoinette in Trianon was only +the lady of the mansion, or the farming-lady--so much so, that she had +allowed the very last duties of etiquette, which separated the subject +from the queen, to be abandoned, that even when with her gay company she +was in Trianon, the gates of the park and of the castle were not closed +to visitors, but were opened to any one who had secured from the keeper +a card of admission; the benefit arising from these cards was applied by +order of the queen to the relief of the poor of Versailles. It is true, +one condition of small importance was attached, "by order of the queen," +to the obtaining of such a card. It was necessary to belong to the +nobility, or to the higher magistracy, so as to be entitled to purchase +a card of admission into the Trianon, and this sole insignificant +condition contained the germ of much evil and of bitter hatred. The +merchant, the spicier, was conscious of a bitter insult in this order, +which banished him from Trianon, which made it impossible for him to +satisfy his curiosity, and to see the queen as a shepherdess, and the +king as a farmer. This order only whetted more and more the hatred and +the contempt for the preferred classes, for the aristocrats, and turned +the most important class of the population, the burgesses, into enemies +of the queen. For it was the queen who had given this order which kept +away from Trianon the tradesmen; it was the queen alone who ruled in +Trianon: and, to vent vengeance on the queen's order, she was blamed +for assuming a right belonging only to the King of France. Only he, the +king, was entitled to give laws to France, only he could set on the very +front of the law this seal: "DE PAR LE ROI." + +And now the queen wanted to assume this privilege. In the castles of +pleasure presented by the king to the queen, in Trianon as well as in +St. Cloud, was seen at the entrance of the gardens a tablet, containing +the regulations under which admission was granted to the public, and +these two tablets began with the formula, "DE PAR LA HEINE!" This +unfortunate expression excited the ill-will and the anger of all France; +every one felt himself injured, every one was satisfied to see therein +an attack on the integrity of the monarchy, on the sovereignty of the +king. + +"It is no more the king alone who enacts laws," they said, "but the +queen also assumes this right; she makes use of the formalities of the +state, she issues laws without the approbation of the Parliament. The +queen wants to place our king aside and despoil us of our rights, so as +to take the king's place!" + +And these complaints, these reproaches became so vehement, so loud, that +their echoes resounded in the chambers of the king, so that even one of +the ministers could make observations to the king on that subject, and +say: "It is certainly immoral and impolitic for a queen of France to own +castles for her own private use" [Footnote: Campan, "Memoires," vol. i., +p. 274.] + +The good Louis therefore ventured to speak to his consort on this +subject, and to ask of her to remove this expression which gave so much +offence, and which had so violently excited the public sentiment. + +But the pure heart of Marie Antoinette rebelled against such a +supposition; her pride was stirred up that she, a queen, the daughter of +the Caesars, should make concession to public opinion; that she should +submit to this imaginary and invisible power, which dared despise her as +a queen, which she recognized not and would not recognize! + +This power, the public opinion, stood yet behind Marie Antoinette as an +invisible, an unobserved phantom, which soon was to be transformed into +a cruel monster, whose giant hand would pitilessly crush the happiness +and the peace of the queen. + +The prayers and expostulations of the king were in vain. Marie +Antoinette would not bow to the public sentiment; she would not depart +from her regulations, she would not strike off her "De par la reine" for +the sake of "De par le peuple" + +"My name is there in its right place," said she, with a countenance +beaming with resolution and pride; "these gardens and castles are my +property, and I can very well issue orders in them, without interfering +with state rights." + +And the "De par la reine" remained on the regulation-tablets in Trianon +as well as in St. Cloud; and the people, who, through birth or through +official position, were not entitled to enter Trianon, came thither at +least to read the tablets of rules at the gate of entrance, and to +fill up their hearts with scorn and contempt, and to utter loud curses +against this presumptuous and daring "De par la reine." + +And this woman, whose pride and imperiousness kept away and scorned away +the burgesses from the gates of Trianon, came to Trianon there to rest +from the unbending majesty of her sovereignty, and she herself used to +say to her ladies, with her own enchanting smile, "To forget that she +was queen." + +The numberless fairy-tales related about the enchanted castle of the +queen had found their way to Fontainebleau, and had been re-echoed in +the quiet, lonely house where lived the Marquis de Beauharnais and +his family. The marquis, always extremely attentive to procure for his +beloved daughter-in-law some distraction and some recreation, proposed +to Josephine to visit this Trianon, which furnished so much material +for admiration and slander, and to make thither with a few friends a +pleasure excursion. + +Josephine gladly accepted the invitation; she longed for diversion and +society. Her young, glowing heart had been healed and strengthened after +the deep wound which the ever-beloved husband had inflicted; she had +submitted to her fate; she was a divorced woman, but Parliament had by +its judgment kept her honor free from every shadow; public opinion had +pronounced itself in her favor; the love of her parents, of the father +of him who had so shamefully accused her, so cruelly deserted her, +endeavored to make compensation for what she had lost. Josephine could +not trouble, with her sorrows, with her sad longings of soul, those who +so much busied themselves in cheering her up. She had, therefore, so +mastered herself as to appear content, as to dry here tears; and her +youth, the freshness and elasticity of her mind, had come to the help +of her efforts. She had at first smiled through effort, she soon did +it from the force of youthful pleasure; she had at first repressed her +tears by the power of her will, soon her tears were dried up and her +eyes irradiated again the fire of youth and hope, of the hope once +more to win her husband's heart, to return her two graceful and beloved +children to their father, whom their youth needed, for whom every +evening she raised to the God of love the prayers which their mother +with low, trembling voice and tears in her eyes made them say after her. + +Josephine, then, in company with her aunt Madame de Renaudin and +with her father-in-law the Marquis de Beauharnais, undertook this +pleasure-excursion to Trianon. The sight of these glorious parks, these +gardens so artistically laid out, charmed her and filled her with the +sweet reminiscences of the loved home, of the beautiful gardens in +Martinique, which she herself with her slaves had cultivated, in which +she had planted those beautiful flowers whose liveliness of color and +whose fragrance of blossom were here in hot-houses so much praised. The +love of plants and flowers had ever remained fresh amid the storms +and sorrows which in the last years had passed over her heart, and +oftentimes she had sought in the study of botany forgetfulness and +refreshment. With a vivacity and a joyfulness such as had not been seen +in her for a long time, Josephine wandered about this beautiful park, +these hot-houses and gardens, and, transported with joy and admiration, +she exclaimed: "Oh, how happy must the queen be to call this paradise +her own!" + +The sound of approaching voices interrupted her in her observations and +in her admiration, which, perchance, was not entirely free from envy. +Through the foliage of the trees was seen a large company approaching +the queen's farm-house, before which stood Josephine with her escort. At +the curve of the path near the grove where Josephine stood, appeared +a woman. A white muslin dress, not expanded by the stiff, ceremonious +hoop-petticoat, but falling down in ample folds, wrapped up her tall, +noble figure, a small lace kerchief covered the beautiful neck, and +in part the splendid shoulders. The deep-blond unpowdered hair hung +in heavy, curly locks on either side of the rosy cheeks; the head was +covered with a large, round straw hat, adorned with long, streaming silk +ribbons; on the arm, partly covered with a black knit glove, hung an +ornamented woven basket, which was completely filled with eggs. + +"The queen!" murmured Josephine, trembling within herself, and, +frightened at this unexpected meeting, she wanted to withdraw behind the +grove, in the hope of being unnoticed by the farmer's wife passing by. + +But Marie Antoinette had already seen her, and on her beautiful, smiling +countenance was not for a moment expressed either surprise or concern at +this unexpected meeting with uninvited strangers. She was so accustomed +to see curiosity-seekers in her lovely Trianon, and to meet them, +disturbed not in the least her unaffected serenity. A moment only she +stood still, to allow her followers, the Duchesses de Polignac, the +Princess de Lamballe, and the two Counts de Coigny, to draw near; then +lightly and smilingly she walked toward the house near which Josephine +bewildered and blushing stood, whilst the marquis bowed profoundly and +reverentially. + +The queen, who was about to pass by and enter into the house, stood +still. Her large dark-blue eye was for a moment fixed with questioning +expression upon Josephine, then a smile illumined her beautiful +countenance. She had recognized the Viscountess de Beauharnais, though +she had seen her only twice. Although, through her husband's rank and +station, Josephine was entitled to appear at court, yet she had always, +with all the retreating anxiety of inexperienced youth, endeavored to +evade the solemnity of an official presentation. The young, lively, +unaffected Creole had cherished an invincible horror for the stiff +court-etiquette, for the ceremonial court-dress of gold brocade, with +the court-mantle strictly embroidered after the established pattern, and +which terminated in a long, heavy train, for the majestic head-gear of +feathers, flowers, laces, and veils, all towering up nearly a yard high, +and, above all things, for those rules and laws which regulated and +fixed every word, every step, every movement, at a solemn presentation +at court. + +Marie Antoinette had had compassion on the timidity of the young +Creole, and to spare her the solemnity of a rigid presentation had twice +received at a private audience the young Viscountess de Beauharnais, and +had then received also her homage. [Footnote: Le Normand, "Histoire de +l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 97.] + +The youthful, charming appearance of Josephine, her peculiar and at +the same time ingenuous and graceful attitude, had not been without +impression on the queen; and with the most sympathizing interest, she +had heard of the sad disturbances which had clouded the matrimonial +happiness of the young Creole. + +No longer, as before, had Marie Antoinette requested the Viscount de +Beauharnais, the beautiful dancer of Versailles, to dance with her; +and when Parliament had given its sentence, and openly and solemnly had +proclaimed the innocency of Josephine, the accused wife, the queen also +had loudly expressed her satisfaction at this judgment, and the Viscount +de Beauharnais was no more invited to the court festivities. + +About to enter into the house, the queen had recognized the young +viscountess, and with a friendly movement of the head she beckoned her +to approach, welcomed the marquis, whom her short-sightedness had not at +once recognized, to her beloved Trianon, and she requested them both +to visit her little kingdom as often as they would wish, and to examine +every thing attentively. + +In the goodness and generosity of her heart, the queen gladly desired +to make amends to the young, timid woman, who, embarrassed and blushing, +stood before her, for the sufferings she had endured, for the disgrace +under which she had had to bow her head; she wanted to give the accused +innocent one a reparation of honor such as Parliament and public +sentiment had already done. + +She was consequently all goodness, all condescension, all confidence; +she spoke to Josephine, not as a queen to her favored subjects, but as +a young woman to a young woman, as to her equal. With sympathetic +friendliness she made inquiries concerning the welfare of the +viscountess and her family; she invited her to come often to Trianon, +and, with a flattering allusion to the vast knowledge of the viscountess +in botany, she asked her if she was satisfied with the arrangements of +garden and hot-houses. + +Josephine, with the sensitiveness and fine tact natural to her, felt +that the trivial flattery of a courtier would but be a wretched and +inappropriate return for so much goodness and loving-kindness; she +felt that frankness and truth were the thanks due to the queen's +large-heartedness. + +She therefore answered the queen's questions with impartial sincerity, +and, encouraged by the kindness of the queen, she openly and clearly +gave her opinion concerning the arrangement of the hot-houses, and drew +the attention of the queen to some precious and choice plants which she +had noticed in the hot-houses. + +Marie Antoinette listened to her with lively interest, and at parting +extended to her in a friendly manner her beautiful hand. + +"Come soon again, viscountess," said she, with that beautiful smile +which ever won her true hearts; "you are worthy to enjoy the beauty +of my beloved Trianon, for you have eyes and sense for the beautiful. +Examine everything closely, and when we see one another again, tell +me what you have observed and what has pleased you. It will ever be a +pleasure to see you." [Footnote: The very words of the queen.--See Le +Normand, "Histoire," &c., vol. i., p. 135.] + +But Josephine was no more to see the beautiful queen, so worthy of +compassion; and these kind words which Marie Antoinette had spoken to +her were the last which Josephine was ever to hear from her lips. + +A few days after this visit to Trianon, Josephine received from her +parents in Martinique letters which had for their object to persuade her +with the tenderness of love, with all the reasons of wisdom, to +return to her home, to the house of her parents, to withdraw with +bold resolution from all the inconveniences and humiliations of her +precarious and dangerous situation, and, instead of living in humble +solitude as a divorced, despised woman, sooner to come to Martinique, +and there in her parents' home be again the beloved and welcomed +daughter. + +Josephine hesitated still. She could not come to the resolution of +abandoning the hope of a reunion with Alexandre de Beauharnais; she +dreamt yet of the happiness of seeing the beloved wanderer return to his +wife, to his children. + +But her aunt and her father-in-law knew better than she that there was +no prospect of such an event; they knew that the viscount was still the +impassioned lover of the beautiful Madame de Gisard; that she held him +too tightly in her web to look for a possibility of his returning to his +legitimate affection. + +If any thing could rouse him from this love-spell, and bring him back to +duty and reason, it would be that sudden, unexpected departure; it would +be the conviction which would necessarily be impressed upon him, +that Josephine desired to be forever separated from him; that she was +conscious of being divorced from him forever, and that, in the pride of +her insulted womanhood, she wished to withdraw herself and her daughter +from his approaches, and from the scandal which his passion for Madame +de Gisard was giving. + +Such were the reasons with which her relatives, even the grandfather +of her two children, sought to persuade her to a voyage to +Martinique--bitter though the anguish would be for them to be deprived +of the presence of the gentle, lovely young woman, whose youthful +freshness and grace had like sunshine cheered the lonely house in +Fontainebleau; to see also part from them the little Hortense, whose +joyous voice of childhood had now and then recalled the faithless son +to the father's house, and which was still a bond which united Josephine +with her husband and with his family. + +Josephine had to give way before these arguments, however much her heart +bled. She had long felt how much of impropriety and of danger there was +in the situation of a young woman divorced from her husband, and how +much more dignified and expedient it would be for her to return to +her father's home and to the bosom of her family. She therefore took a +decided resolution; she tore herself away from her relatives, from her +beloved son, whom she could not take with her, for he belonged to the +father. With a stream of painful tears she bade farewell to the love of +youth, to the joys of youth, from which naught remained but the wounds +of a despised heart, and the children who gazed at her with the beloved +eyes of their father. + +In the month of July of the year 1788, Josephine, with her little +five-year-old daughter Hortense, left Fontainebleau, went to Havre, +whence she embarked for Martinique. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. LIEUTENANT NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + + +While the Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais was, during long years of +resignation, enduring all the anguish, humiliations, and agonies of an +unhappy marriage, the first pain and sorrow had also clouded the days of +the young Corsican boy who, in the same year as Josephine, had embarked +from his native land for France. + +In the beginning of the year 1785, Napoleon Bonaparte had lost his +father. In Montpellier, whither he had come for the cure of his diseased +breast, he died, away from home, from his Letitia and his children. +Only his eldest son Joseph stood near his dying couch, and, moreover, +a fortunate accident had brought to pass that the poor, lonely sufferer +should meet there a friendly home, where he was received with the most +considerate affection. Letitia's companion of youth, the beautiful +Panonia Comnene, now Madame de Permont, resided in Montpellier with +her husband, who was settled there, and with all the faithfulness and +friendship of a Corsican, she nursed the sick husband of her Letitia. + +But neither the skill of the renowned physicians of Montpellier, nor the +tender care of friends, nor the tears of the son, could keep alive the +unfortunate Charles de Bonaparte. For three days long he struggled with +death; for three days long his youth, his manhood's powers, resisted the +mighty foe, which already held him in its chains; then he had to submit +to the conqueror. Exhausted with death's pallor, Charles de Bonaparte +sank back on his couch, and as Death threw his dark shadows on his +face bathed in cold perspiration, Charles de Bonaparte, with stammering +tongue, in the last paroxysms of fancy, exclaimed: "It is in vain! +Nothing can save me! Even Napoleon's sword, which one day is to triumph +over all Europe, even that sword cannot frighten away the dragon of +death which crouches on my breast!" [Footnote: See "Memoires du Roi +Joseph," vol. i., p. 29.] + +Wonderful vision of a dying man! The dimmed eye of the dying father +saw his son Napoleon's sword, "which one day was to triumph over all +Europe;" as he prophesied its power, he sighed at the same time over the +impotency which holds all mankind in its bands, and leaves even the hero +as a powerless child in the hands of fate. The sword which was to be a +yoke to all Europe could not terrify from the breast of his father the +dragon of death! + +Napoleon received the news of his father's decease whilst at the +military school of Paris, where he had been placed for the last six +months, to the joy and satisfaction of his teachers as well as to that +of his schoolmates in Brienne. For the reserved, taciturn, proud boy, +who, rugged and blunt, stood aloof from his comrades, who even dared +speak rude and bitter words against his teachers and against the whole +military institution at Brienne, was oftentimes an inconvenience and a +burden as well to teachers as to schoolmates; and all felt relieved, as +from a depressing weight, when they no more feared the naming eyes of +the boy who observed every thing, who criticised every thing, and passed +judgment upon every thing. + +But if he was not loved, it was impossible to refuse esteem to his +capacity, to his desire for learning; and the testimony which Monsieur +de Heralio, the principal of the institution of Brienne, sent with the +young Napoleon to Paris, was a tribute of respect and an acknowledgment +of merit. He portrayed him "as having an extremely capacious head, +especially skilled in mathematics, and of great powers and talents." As +to his character, one of the professors of the institution had in the +testimonial written the remark: "A Corsican by birth and character. He +will do great things, if circumstances are favorable." + +But circumstances did not appear favorable, but contrariwise seemed to +bo roused in enmity against the poor Corsican boy. He had been scarcely +half a year in Paris when he lost his father, and this grief, of which +not a murmur escaped, which he kept within, devouring his heart, as +every thing else which affected him, made his existence still more +reserved, still more retired, and isolated him more and more. Moreover, +death had not only taken away the father, but also the support which +Napoleon received from him. The means of the Bonaparte family were very +meagre, and barely sufficed to the support of Signora Letitia and her +seven children. Napoleon could not and dared not require or accept +any help from his mother, on whom and on his brother Joseph it became +incumbent to educate and support the young family. He had to be +satisfied to live upon the bounty which the royal treasury furnished to +the young men at the military school. + +But these limited means were to the ambitious boy a source of +humiliation and pain. The majority of his comrades consisted of young +aristocrats, who, provided with ample means, led a gay, luxurious, +dissipated life, had horses, servants, equipages, kept up one with +another expensive dinner-parties and dejeuners, and seized every +opportunity to organize a festivity or a pleasure-party. Every +departure, every admission of a scholar, was celebrated with brilliant +display; every birthday furnished the opportunity of a feast, and every +holiday became the welcomed occasion for a pleasure excursion which the +young men on horseback, and followed by their servants in livery, made +in the vicinity of Paris. + +Napoleon could take no part in all these feastings and dissipations; and +as his proud heart could not acknowledge his poverty, he put on the mask +of a stoic, who, with contemptuous disregard, cast away vain pleasures +and amusements, and scorned those who with unrestrained zest abandoned +themselves to them. + +He had scarcely been half a year in the military school when he gave +loud expression to his jealousy and envy; the young Napoleon, nearly +sixteen years old, undertook boldly to censure in the very presence of +the teachers the regulations of the institution. In a memorial which +he had composed, and which he presented to the second director of the +establishment, M. Berton, he gave utterance to his own views in the most +energetic and daring manner, imposing upon the professors the duty of +making a complete change in the institution; of limiting the number +of servants, so that the military pupils might learn to wait upon +themselves; of simplifying the noonday meal, so as to accustom them to +moderation; of forbidding banquets, dejeuners, and pleasure-excursions, +so that they might not become inured to a frivolous, extravagant mode of +life. + +This mask of a censuring stoic, which he put on in the presence of +teachers and school-mates, he retained also with his few friends. Madame +de Permont, a short time after the death of Napoleon's father, came with +her family to Paris, where her husband had obtained an important and +lucrative office; her son Albert attended the military school and was +soon the friend of Napoleon, as much as a friendship could be formed +between the young, lively M. de Permont, the son of wealthy and +distinguished parents, and the reserved, proud Napoleon Bonaparte, the +son of a poor, lonely widow. + +However, Napoleon this time acquiesced in the wishes of his true friend, +and condescended to pass his holidays with Albert in the house of +Madame de Permont, the friend of his mother; and oftentimes his whole +countenance would brighten into a smile, when speaking with her of the +distant home, of the mother, and of the family. But as many times also +that countenance would darken when, gazing round, he tacitly compared +this costly, tastefully decorated mansion with the poor and sparingly +furnished house in which his noble and beautiful mother lived with her +six orphans, and who in her household duties had to wait upon herself; +when again he noticed with what solicitude and love Madame de Permont +had her children educated by masters from the court, by governesses +and by teachers at enormous salaries, whilst her friend Letitia had to +content herself with the very deficient institutions of learning to +be found in Corsica, because her means were not sufficient to bring to +Paris, to the educational establishment of St. Cyr, her young daughters, +like the parents of the beautiful Pauline. + +The young Napoleon hated luxury, because he himself had not the means +of procuring it; he spoke contemptuously of servants, for his position +allowed him not to maintain them; he spoke against the expensive noonday +meal, because he had to be content with less; he scorned the amusements +of his school-mates, because, when they arranged their picnics and +festivities, his purse allowed him not to take a part in them. + +One day in the military school, as one of the teachers was to bid it +farewell, the scholars organized a festivity, toward which each of them +was to contribute a tolerably large sum. It was perhaps not all accident +that precisely on that day M. de Permont, the father of Albert, came to +the military school to visit his son, and Napoleon, his son's friend. + +He found all the scholars in joyous excitement and motion; his son +Albert was, like the rest, intently busy with the preparations of the +feast, which was to take place in the garden, and to end in a great +display of fireworks. All faces beamed with delight, all eyes were +illumined, and the whole park re-echoed with jubilant cries and joyous +laughter. + +But Napoleon Bonaparte was not among the gay company. M. de Permont +found him in a remote, lonesome path. He was walking up and down +with head bent low, his hands folded behind his back; as he saw M. de +Permont, his face became paler and gloomier, and a look nearly scornful +met the unwelcomed disturber. + +"My young friend," said M. de Permont, with a friendly smile, "I come to +bring you the small sum which you need to enable you to take a part in +the festivity. Here it is; take it, I pray you." + +But Napoleon, with a vehement movement of the hand, waved back the +offered money, a burning redness for a moment covered his face, then his +cheeks assumed that yellowish whiteness which in the child had always +indicated a violent emotion. + +"No," cried he, vehemently, "no, I have nothing to do with this +meaningless festivity. I thank you--I receive no alms." + +M. de Permont gazed with emotions of sympathizing sorrow in the pale +face of the poor young man for whom poverty was preparing so many +griefs, and in the generosity of his heart he had recourse to a +falsehood. + +"This is no alms I offer you, Napoleon," said he, gently, "but this +money belongs to you, it comes from your father. At his dying hour he +confided to me a small sum of money, with the express charge to keep it +for you and to give you a portion of it in pressing circumstances, when +your personal honor required it. I therefore bring you to-day the fourth +part of this sum, and retain the rest for another pressing occasion." + +With a penetrating, searching look. Napoleon gazed into the face of +the speaker, and the slight motions of a sarcastic smile played for an +instant around his thin, compressed lips. + +"Well, then," said he, after a pause, "since this money comes from my +father, I can use it; but had you simply wished to lend it to me, +I could not have received it. My mother has already too much +responsibility and care; I cannot increase them by an outlay, especially +when such an outlay is imposed upon me by the sheer folly of my +schoolmates." [Footnote: Napoleon's words.--See "Memoires de la Duchesse +d'Abrantes," vol. i., p. 81.] + +He then took the offered sum for which, as he thought, he was indebted +to no man, and hastened to pay his contribution to the festivity. But, +in respect to his principles, he took no part in the festivity, but +declaimed all the louder, and in a more biting tone, against the +criminal propensities for pleasure in the young men who, instead of +turning their attention to their studies, lavished away their precious +time in dissipation and frivolities. + +These anxieties and humiliations of poverty Napoleon had doubly to +endure, not only for himself, but also for his sister Marianne (who +afterward called herself Elise). She had been, as already said, at her +father's intercession and application, received in the royal educational +institute of St. Cyr, and there enjoyed the solid and brilliant +education of the pupils of the king. But the spirit of luxury and the +desire for pleasure had also penetrated into this institution, founded +by the pious and high-minded Madame de Maintenon, and the young ladies +of St. Cyr had among themselves picnics and festivals, as well as the +young men of the military school. + +Napoleon, whose means, as long as he was in Brienne, never allowed him +to visit his beloved sister at St. Cyr, had now frequent opportunities +of seeing her, for Madame de Permont, in her royal friendship to the +Bonaparte family, took as lively an interest in the daughter as in the +son of her friend Letitia, and often drove to St. Cyr to visit the young +and beautiful Marianne. + +A few days after the festival in the military school, a short vacation +had followed, and Napoleon passed it with his friend Albert in the house +of the family of Permont. To please young Napoleon, it was decided to +go to St. Cyr, and the glowing cheeks and the lively manner with which +Napoleon, during the journey, conversed with M. and Madame de Permont, +proved what satisfaction he anticipated in meeting his sister. + +But Marianne Bonaparte did not seem to share this satisfaction. With +downcast countenance and sad mien she entered the reception-room and +saluted M. and Madame Permont, and even her brother, with a gloomy, +despairing look. As she was questioned about the cause of her sadness, +she broke into tears, and threw herself with vehement emotion into the +arms of Madame de Permont. + +Vain were the prayers and expostulations of her mother's friend to have +her reveal the cause of her sadness. Marianne only shook her head in a +negative manner, and ever a fresh flow of tears started from her eyes, +but she remained silent. + +Napoleon, who at first, pale and silent, had looked on this outbreak of +sorrow, now excitedly approached his sister, and, laying his hand upon +her arm, said in angry tones: "Since you cry, you must also confess the +cause of your tears, or else we are afraid that you weep over some wrong +of which you are guilty. But woe to you if it is so! I am here in the +name of our father, and I will be without pity!" [Footnote: "Memoires de +la Duehesse d'Abrantes."] + +Marianne trembled, and cast a timid, anxious look upon her young +brother, whose voice had assumed such a peculiar, imperious +expression--whose eyes shone with the expression of a proud, angry +master. + +"I am in no wise guilty, my brother," murmured she, "and yet I am sad +and unhappy." + +And blushing, trembling, with broken words, interrupted by tears and +sighs, Marianne related that next day, a farewell festival was to take +place in the institution in honor of one of the pupils about to leave. +The whole class was taking a part in it, and each of the young ladies +had already paid her contribution. + +"But I only am not able," exclaimed Marianne, with a loud burst of +anguish, "I have but six francs; if I give them, nothing is left me, and +my pension is not paid until six weeks. But even were I to give all I +have, my miserable six francs would not be enough." + +Very unwillingly indeed had Napoleon, whilst Marianne thus spoke, +put his hand into his pocket, as if to draw out the money which his +sorrowing sister needed, but remembering his own poverty, his hand +dropped at his side; a deep glow of anger overspread his cheeks, and +wildly stamping down with the foot he turned away and walked to the +window, perhaps to allow none to notice the nervous agitation of his +countenance and his tears of vexation and shame. + +But what Napoleon could not do, that did Madame de Permont. She gave to +the weeping young girl the twelve francs she needed to take a part in +the festivity, and Marianne, less proud and less disdainful than her +brother, accepted gladly, without opposition and without the need of a +falsehood, the little sum offered. + +Napoleon allowed this to take place without contradiction, and hindered +not his sister to receive from Madame de Permont the alms which he +himself had so arrogantly refused. + +But they had barely left the reception-room and entered the carriage, +than his suffering heart burst into a sarcastic philippic against the +contemptible administration of such royal establishments as St. Cyr and +the military school. + +M. de Permont, who had at first patiently and with a smile listened to +these raving invectives, felt himself at last wounded by them; and the +supercilious and presumptuous manner in which the young man of barely +seventeen years spoke of the highest offices of the state, and of the +king himself, excited his anger. + +"Hush, Napoleon!" said he, reluctantly. "It does not beseem you, who are +educated upon the king's bounty, to speak thus." + +Napoleon shrank within himself as if he had been bitten by a serpent, +and a deadly pallor overspread his cheeks. + +"I am not the pupil of the king, but of the state!" exclaimed he, in a +boisterous voice, trembling with passion. + +"Ah, that is indeed a fine distinction which you have made there, +Napoleon," said M. de Permont, laughing. "It is all the same whether you +are the pupil of the state or of the king; moreover, is not the king +the state also? However it may be, it beseems you not to speak of your +benefactor in such inappropriate terms." + +Napoleon concentrated all his efforts into self-control, and mastered +himself into a grave, quiet countenance. + +"I will be silent," said he, with an appearance of composure; "I will no +more say what might excite your displeasure. Only allow me to say, +were I master here, had I to decide upon the regulations of these +institutions, I would have them very different, and for the good of +all." + +"Were I master here!" The pupil of the military school, for whom poverty +was preparing so much humiliation, who had just now experienced a fresh +humiliation through his sister in the reception-room of St. Cyr, was +already thinking what he would do were he the ruler of France; and, +strange enough, these words seemed natural to his lips, and no one +thought of sneering or laughing at him when he thus spoke. + +Meanwhile his harsh and repulsive behavior, his constant fault-finding +and censoriousness were by no means conducive to the friendship and +affection of those around him; he was a burden to all, he was an +inconvenience to all; and the teachers as well as the pupils of the +military school were all anxious to get rid of his presence. + +As nothing else could be said to his reproach; as there was no denying +his assiduity, his capacities, and progress, there was but one means +of removing him from the institution--he had to be promoted. It was +necessary to recognize the young pupil of the military school as +competent to enter into the practical, active military service; it was +necessary to make a lieutenant out of the pupil. + +Scarcely had one year passed since Napoleon had been received into the +military school of Paris, when he was nominated by the authorities of +the school for a vacancy in the rank of lieutenant, and he was promoted +to it in the artillery regiment of La Fere, then stationed at Valence. + +In the year 1786 Napoleon left the military school to serve his country +and his king as second lieutenant, and to take the oath of allegiance. + +Radiant with happiness and joy, proud alike of his promotion and of his +uniform, the young lieutenant went to the house of M. de Permont to show +himself to his friends in his new dignity and in his new splendors, and, +at their invitation, to pass a few days in their house before leaving +for Valence. + +But, alas! his appearance realized not the wished-for result. As he +entered the saloon of Madame de Permont the whole family was gathered +there, and at the sight of Napoleon the two daughters, girls of six and +thirteen years, broke out into loud laughter. None are more alive than +children to the impression of what is ridiculous, and there was indeed +in the appearance of the young lieutenant something which well might +excite the laughing propensities of the lively little maidens. The +uniform appeared much too long and wide for the little meagre figure +of Napoleon, and his slender legs vanished in boots of such height and +breadth that he seemed more to swim than to walk with them. + +These boots especially had excited the laughter of the little maidens; +and at every step which Napoleon, embarrassed as he was by the terrible +cannon-boots, made forward, the laughter only increased, so that the +expostulations and reproaches of Madame de Permont could not procure +silence. + +Napoleon, who had entered the drawing-room with a face radiant with joy, +felt wounded by the children's joyousness at his own cost. To be the +subject of scorn or sarcasm was then, as it was afterward, entirely +unbearable to him, and when he himself also tried to jest he knew not +how to receive the jests directed at him. After having saluted M. and +Madame de Permont, Napoleon turned to the eldest daughter Cecilia, who, +a few days before, had come from the boarding-school to remain a +short time at home, and who, laughing, had placed herself right before +monsieur the lieutenant. + +"I find your laughter very silly and childish," said he, eagerly. + +The young maid, however, continued to laugh. + +"M. Lieutenant," said she, "since you carry such a mighty sword, you +no doubt wish to carry it as a lady's knight, and therefore you must +consider it an honor when ladies jest with you." + +Napoleon gave a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. + +"It is evident," said he, scornfully, "that you are but a little +school-girl." + +These sarcastic words wounded the vanity of the young maiden, and +brought a glow of anger on her face. + +"Well, yes," cries she, angrily, "I am a school-girl, but you--you are +nothing else than a puss in boots!" + +A general laugh followed; even Madame de Permont, ordinarily so good +and so considerate, could not suppress laughter. The witty words of the +little school-girl were too keen and too applicable that she should be +subjected to reproach. + +Napoleon's wrath was indescribable. His visage was overspread with a +yellow-greenish pallor, his lips were contracted nervously, and already +opened for a word of anger. But he suppressed that word with an effort; +for though not yet familiar with all the forms and usages of society, +his fine tact and the instinct of what was becoming told him that when +the conversation ran into personalities the best plan was to be silent, +and that he must not return personal remarks, since his opponent was one +of the fair sex. He therefore remained silent, and so controlled himself +as to join in the general laughter and to show himself heartily amused +at the unfortunate nickname of the little Cecilia. + +And that every one might be convinced how much he himself had been +amused at this little scene, he brought, a few days afterward, to the +youngest daughter of Madame de Permont, a charming little toy which he +had had made purposely for her. This toy consisted of a small gilt and +richly-ornamented carriage of papier-mache, before which leaped along a +very lovely puss in boots. + +To this present for the little Lolotte (afterward Duchess d'Abrantes), +was added for Cecilia an elegant and interesting edition of the tales +of "Puss in Boots," and when Napoleon politely presented it to the young +maid he begged her to receive kindly this small souvenir from him. + +"That is too much," said Madame de Permont, shaking her head. "The toy +for Loulou would have been quite enough. But this present to Cecilia +shows that you took her jest in earnest, and were hurt by it." + +Napoleon, however, affirmed that he had not taken the jest in earnest, +that he had been no wise hurt by it; that he himself when he put on +his uniform had to laugh at the nickname of "puss in boots" which dear +Cecilia had given him. + +He had, however, endeavored no more to deserve this nickname, and the +unlucky boots were replaced by much smaller and closer-fitting ones. + +A few days after this little incident the young second lieutenant left +Paris and went to meet his regiment La Fere at Valence. + +A life of labor and study, of hopes and dreams, now began for the young +lieutenant. He gave himself up entirely to his military service, and +pursued earnest, scientific studies in regard to it. Mathematics, the +science of war, geometry, and finally politics, were the objects of his +zeal; but alongside of these he read and studied earnestly the works of +Voltaire, Corneille, Racine, Montaigne, the Abbe Raynal, and, above all, +the works of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose passionate and enthusiastic +disciple Napoleon Bonaparte was at that time. [Footnote: "Memoires du +Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 33.] + +Amid so many grave occupations of the mind it would seem that the heart +with all its claims had to remain in the background. The smiling boy +Cupid, with his gracious raillery and his smarting griefs, seemed +to make no impression on that pale, grave, and taciturn artillery +lieutenant, and not to dare shoot an arrow toward that bosom which had +mailed itself in an impenetrable cuirass of misanthropy, stoicism, and +learning. + +But yet between the links of this coat-of-mail an arrow must have +glided, for the young lieutenant suddenly became conscious that there +in his bosom a heart did beat, and that it was going in the midst of +his studies to interrupt his dreams of misanthropy. Yes, it had come to +this, that he abandoned his study to pay his court to a young lady, that +at her side he lost his gravity of mien, his gloomy taciturnity, and +became joyous, talkative, and merry, as beseemed a young man of his age. + +The young lady who exercised so powerful an influence upon the young +Bonaparte was the daughter of the commanding officer at Valence, M. de +Colombier. He loved her, but his lips were yet too timid to confess +it, and of what need were words to these young people to understand one +another and to know what the one felt for the other? + +In the morning they took long walks through the beautiful park; they +spoke one to another of their childhood, of their brothers and +sisters, and when the young maid with tears in her eyes listened to the +descriptions which Napoleon made to her of his country, of his father's +house, and, above all things, of his mother--when she with animation +and enthusiasm declared that Letitia was a heroine greater than whom +antiquity had never seen, then Napoleon would take her two hands in his +and thank her with tremulous voice for the love which she consecrated to +his noble mother. + +If in the morning they had to separate, as an indemnification an evening +walk in the light of the moon was agreed upon, and the young maid +promised heroically to come without uncertainty, however imperative was +her mother's prohibition. And truly, when her mother was asleep, she +glided down into the park, and Napoleon welcomed her with a happy smile, +and arm in arm, happy as children, they wandered through the paths, +laughing at their own shadows, which the light of the moon in wondrous +distortion made to dance before them. They entered into a small bower, +which stood in the shadow of trees, and there the young Napoleon had +prepared for the young maid a very pleasing surprise. There on the table +was a basket full of her favorite fruit--full of the sweetest, finest +cherries. Louise thanked her young lover with a hand-pressure for the +tender attention, but she declared that she would touch none of the +cherries unless Napoleon enjoyed them with her, and to please his +beloved he had to obey. + +They sat down on the seat before the bower and enjoyed the golden light +of the moon, the night air amid the lime-trees, the joy of being thus +secretly together, and with infinite delight they ate of the sweet juicy +cherries. But when the last cherry was eaten, the moon became darkened, +a rude night breeze shook the trees, and made the young maid tremble +with cold. She must not remain from home any longer, she must not +expose herself to the dangerous night air; thus argued the considerate +tenderness of the young lieutenant, and, kissing her hand, he bade +farewell to Louise, and watched until the tender ethereal figure had +vanished behind the little door which led from the park into the house. +[Footnote: "Memorial de St. Helene," p. 30.] + +The sweet idyl of his first love had, however, come to a sudden and +unexpected end. The young Second-Lieutenant Bonaparte was ordered to +Lyons with his regiment, and the first innocent romance of his heart was +ended. + +But he never forgot the young maid, whom he then had so tenderly loved, +and in the later days of his grandeur he remembered her, and when he +learned that she had lost her husband, a M. de Bracieux, and lived in +very depressing circumstances, he appointed her maid of honor to his +sister Elise, and secured her a very handsome competency. + +The dream of his first love had been dreamed away; and, perhaps +to forget it, Napoleon again in Lyons gave himself up with deepest +earnestness to study. The Academy of Sciences in Lyons had offered +a prize for the answer to the question: "What are the sentiments and +emotions which are to be instilled into men, so as to make them happy?" + +Napoleon entered the lists for this prize, and, if his work did not +receive the prize, it furnished the occasion for the Abbe Raynal, who +had answered the question successfully, to become acquainted with +the young author, and to encourage him to persevere in his literary +pursuits, for which he had exhibited so much talent. + +Napoleon then, with all the fire of his soul, began a new work, the +history of the revolutions in Corsica; and, in order to make accurate +researches in the archives of Ajaccio, he obtained leave of absence to +go thither. In the year 1788, Napoleon returned to his native isle to +his mother, to his brothers and sisters, all of whom he had not seen for +nine years, and was welcomed by them with the tenderest affection. + +But the joys of the family could draw away the young man but little +from his studies and researches; and, however much he loved his mother, +brothers and sisters, now much grown up, yet he preferred being alone +with his elder brother Joseph, making long walks with him, and in solemn +exchange of thoughts and sentiments, communicating to him his studies, +his hopes, his dreams for the future. + +To acquire distinction, fame, reputation with the actual world, and +immortality with the future--such was the object on which all the +wishes, all the hopes of Napoleon were concentrated; and in long hours +of conversation with Joseph he spoke of the lofty glory to carve out an +immortal name, to accomplish deeds before which admiring posterity would +bow. + +Did Napoleon then think of purchasing for himself an immortal name as +writer, as historian? At least he studied very earnestly the archives of +Ajaccio, and sent a preliminary essay of his history of the revolutions +of Corsica to Raynal for examination. This renowned savant of his day +warmly congratulated the young author on his work, and asked him to send +a copy that he might show it to Mirabeau. + +Napoleon complied with these wishes; and when, a few weeks after, he +received a letter from Raynal, after reading it, he, with radiant eyes +and a bright smile, handed it to his brother Joseph. + +In this letter of Raynal were found these words: "Monsieur de Mirabeau +has in this little essay found traits which announce a genius of the +first rank. He entreats the young author to come to him in Paris." +[Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 33.] + +But the young author could not at once obey the call of the Count de +Mirabeau. A sad family bereavement delayed him at the time in Corsica. +The brother of his grandfather, the aged Archdeacon Lucian, the faithful +counsellor and friend of Letitia and of her young family, was seized +with a mortal disease; the gout, which for years had tormented him, was +now to give him the fatal blow, and the whole family of the Bonapartes +was called to the bedside of the old man to receive his parting words. + +Weeping, they all stood around his couch; weeping, Letitia bent over the +aged man, whose countenance was already signed with the hand of death. +Around kneeled the younger children of Letitia, for their great-uncle +had long been to them a kind father and protector; and on the other +side of the couch, facing Letitia and her brother, the Abbe Fesch, stood +Joseph and Napoleon, gazing with sad looks on their uncle. + +His large, already obscured eyes wandered with a deep, searching glance +upon all the members of the Bonaparte family, and then at last remained +fixed with a wondrous brilliancy of expression on the pale, grave face +of Napoleon. + +At this moment, the Abbe Fesch, with a voice trembling with emotion and +full of holy zeal, began to intone the prayers for the dead. But the old +priest ordered him with a voice full of impatience to be silent. + +"I have prayed long enough in my life," said he; "I have now but a few +moments to live, and I must give them to my family." + +The loud sobbings of Letitia and of her children interrupted him, and +called forth a last genial smile upon the already stiffening features. + +"Letitia," said he, in a loud, friendly tone, "Letitia, cease to shed +tears; I die happy, for I see you surrounded by all your children. My +life is no longer necessary to the children of my dear Charles; I +can therefore die. Joseph is at the head of the administration of +the country, and he will know how to take care of what belongs to his +family. You, Napoleon," continued he, with a louder voice, "you will be +a great and exalted man." [Footnote: "Tu poi. Napoleon, serai unomone" +such were the words of the dying man, assures us King Joseph in his +memoirs; whilst Las Casas, in his memorial of St. Helena, makes Napoleon +relate that his uncle had told him, "You, Napoleon, will be the head of +the family."] + +His eyes turned on Napoleon, he sank back on the cushions, and his dying +lips murmured yet once more, "Tu serai unomone!" + +After the body of the worthy great-uncle had been laid in the grave, +Napoleon left Corsica to return to France and to his regiment, for the +time of his leave of absence had expired. + +For the second time the lips of a dying man had prophesied him a great +and brilliant future. His dying father had said that one day the sword +of his son Napoleon would make all Europe bow under the yoke; his +great-uncle had prophesied he would be a great and exalted personage. + +To these prophecies of the dying is to be added Mirabeau's judgment, +which called Napoleon a genius of the first stamp. + +But this great and glorious future was yet screened under dark +clouds from the eyes of the young lieutenant of artillery, and the +blood-dripping hand of the Revolution was first needed to tear away +these clouds and to convert the king's lieutenant of artillery into the +Emperor of France! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. A PAGE FROM HISTORY. + + +The dark clouds which hung yet over the future of Napoleon Bonaparte, +the lieutenant of artillery, were gathering in heavier and heavier +masses over all France, and already were overshadowing the throne of the +lilies. + +Marie Antoinette had already abandoned the paradise of innocency in +Trianon, and when she came there now it was to weep in silence, to cast +away the mask from her face, and under the garb of the proud, imperious, +ambitious queen to exhibit the pallid, anxious countenance of the woman. + +Alas! they were passed away, those days of festivity, those innocent +joys of Trianon; the royal farmer's wife had no more the heart to carry +the spindle, to gather eggs from the hens' nests, and to perform with +her friends the joyous idyls of a pastoral life. + +The queen had procured for herself a few years of freedom and license by +banishing from Versailles and from the Tuileries the burdensome Madame +Etiquette, who hitherto had watched over every step of a Queen of +France, but in her place Madame Politique had entered into the palace, +and Marie Antoinette could not drive her away as she had done with +Madame Etiquette. + +For Madame Politique came into the queen's apartments, ushered in by a +powerful and irresistible suite. The failure of the crops throughout +the land, want, the cries of distress from a famishing people, the +disordered finances of the state--such was the suite which accompanied +Politique before the queen; pamphlets, pasquinades, sarcastic songs +on Marie Antoinette, whom no more the people called their queen, +but already the foreigner, L'Autrichienne--such were the gifts which +Politique brought for the queen. + +The beautiful and innocent days of Trianon were gone, no longer could +Marie Antoinette forget that she was a queen! The burden of her lofty +position pressed upon her always; and, if now and then she sought to +adorn her head with roses, her crown pressed their thorns with deeper +pain into her brow. + +Unfortunate queen! Even the circle of friends she had gathered round her +person only urged her on more and more into the circle which politics +had traced around her. In her innocency and thoughtlessness of heart she +imagined that, to a queen as to any other woman, it might be allowed +to have about her friends and confidants, to enjoy the pleasures of +society, and to amuse one another! But now she had to learn that a queen +dare not have confidants, friends, or social circles! + +Her friends, in whose disinterestedness she had trusted, approached +her with demands, with prayers; they claimed power, influence, and +distinctions; they all wanted to rule through the queen; they all wanted +through her to impose laws to king and state; they wanted to name and +to depose ministers; they wanted their friendship to be rewarded with +embassies, ministerial offices, decorations, and titles. + +And when Marie Antoinette refused compliance with their wishes, her +beautiful friends, the Duchesses de Polignac, wept, and her friends, +Messieurs Vesenval, Vaudreuil, Coigny, and Polignac, dared be angry and +murmur at her. + +But when Marie Antoinette consented--when she used her influence with +the king, to satisfy the wishes of her friends, and to make ministers of +her facon--then the queen's enemies, with loud, mad-dog cry, lifted up +the voice and complained and clamored that it was no more the king but +the queen who reigned; that she was the one who precipitated the nation +into wretchedness and want; that she gave millions to her friends, +whilst the people were perishing with hunger; that she sent millions to +her brother, the Emperor of Austria, whilst the country was only able +to pay the interest of her enormous debt; that she, in unrestrained +appetite and licentiousness, lived only for pleasure and festivities, +whilst France was depressed under misery and want. + +And the queen's enemies were mightier, more numerous, and more loyal one +to another than the queen's friends, who were ever ready to pass into +the camp of her foes as soon as Marie Antoinette gratified not their +wishes and would not satisfy their political claims. + +At the head of these enemies was the king's brother, the Count de +Provence, who never forgave the queen for being an Austrian princess; +there were also the king's aunts, who could never forgive her that the +king loved her, that by means of this love to his wife they should lose +the influence which these aunts, and especially Madame Adelaide, had +before exercised over him; there was the Duke d'Orleans, who had to +revenge himself for the disgust and dislike which Marie Antoinette +publicly expressed against this vicious and wild prince; there was the +Cardinal Prince de Rohan, whose criminal passion the queen had repelled +with contemptuous disgust, and who had paid for this passion one million +francs, with imprisonment, shame, and ridicule. For this passion for the +queen had blinded the cardinal, and made him believe in the possibility +of a return. In his blindness he had placed confidence in the +whisperings and false promises of the insidious intriguer Madame de +la Motte-Valois, who, in the queen's name, asked from him a loan of a +million for the purchase of a jewelled ornament which highly pleased +the queen, and which she, notwithstanding her exhausted coffers, was +resolved to possess. + +Yes, love had blinded Cardinal de Rohan, and with blind eyes he had +accepted as letters from the queen those which Madame de la Motte +brought him; and he could not see that the person who gave him a +rendezvous in the gardens of Versailles was not the queen, but only a +common, vicious woman, who had been clothed in the queen's garments. + +The queen had been travestied into a wench, and the highest +ecclesiastical dignitary of the land was the one who took this wench for +his queen, was the one who, with a rendezvous, a kiss on the hand, and +a rose, was rewarded for the million he had given to the jeweller for a +necklace of diamonds! + +It is true, the deception was discovered; it is true, it was Marie +Antoinette herself who asked for a strict investigation, who with tears +of anger required from her consort that this horrible intrigue which had +been woven round her person should be investigated and judged publicly +before the Parliament; that the Cardinal de Rohan should be punished for +the criminal insult offered by him to the queen, since he thought her +capable of granting him a rendezvous, of exchanging with him letters of +tender passion, and of accepting gifts from him! + +But the Parliament, which recognized the guilt of Madame de la Motte, +which ordered her to be whipped, branded, and driven out of the country +as an impostor and a thief, the Parliament declared the Cardinal de +Rohan innocent; all punishments were removed from him, and he was +re-established in all his dignities and rights. And the people, who in +enormous masses had besieged the Parliament buildings, welcomed this +decision of the judges with loud demonstrations and shouts of joy, and +carried the cardinal in triumph through the streets, and honored and +glorified him as a martyr and a saint. + +This triumph of the cardinal was an affecting defeat to the queen; it +was the first awful testimony, spoken loudly and openly, by the popular +sentiment. + +Hitherto her enemies had worked against her quietly, and in the darkness +of night; but now, in open day, they dared launch against her their +terrible accusations, and represent her imprudence as a crime, her +errors as shameful and premeditated wickedness. No one believed in the +queen's innocency in this necklace transaction; and whereas Cardinal +de Rohan had been made a martyr, whereas Parliament had declared him +innocent, the queen consequently must be the guilty one, to whose +cupidity the cardinal and the unfortunate Madame de la Motte and also +the beautiful D'Olivia, who in this horrible farce had played the part +of the queen, had been sacrificed. + +The name, the character, the reputation of the queen, had been trodden +down in the dust, and the Count de Provence, who himself composed +sarcastic songs and pasquinades against his royal sister-in-law, and +had copies of them circulated through the court, reflected not that in +calumniating the queen and exposing her to the scorn and ridicule of +the world he thereby shook the throne itself, and imperilled the awe and +respect which the people should have had for the monarchy. And all the +other mighty dignitaries and foes of Marie Antoinette did not calculate +that in exciting the storm of calumny against the Queen of France, they +also attacked the king and the aristocracy, and tore down the barrier +which hitherto had stood between the people and the nobility. + +Hitherto pamphlets and sarcastic songs only had been directed against +the queen; but now, in the year 1787, all France was to re-echo a +pamphlet launched against the nobility and the whole aristocracy. + +This pamphlet was "The Wedding of Figaro," by Beaumarchais. The habits +of the aristocracy, of the higher classes, were in this drama castigated +and thrown to the scorn, ridicule, and laughter of all France. Every +thing which the people hitherto had held sacred, was laughed at in this +drama; all the laws of manners, of rank, of morality, were scorned +at, hissed at; and, under this hissing, appeared in full view and with +fearful veracity the rotten and poisoned condition of the so-called +upper classes of society. + +It was in vain that the censor declared the publication illegal, and +prohibited the representation of "The Wedding of Figaro." The opposition +took advantage of this measure, and since it could not be published, +hundreds of copies were circulated; and, if it could not be represented, +its reading was listened to. It soon became fashionable to attend at the +readings of "Figaro's Wedding" and to possess a copy of the drama. +Even in the queen's social circle, in the circle of the Polignacs, this +dangerous drama was patronized, and even the queen was requested to use +her influence upon the king for its representation. + +This general clamor, this tempest of the public opinion, excited +even the king's curiosity; and as everybody attended the readings of +Beaumarchais' drama, the crowned heads had also to bow to the fashion. +Madame de Campan had to read before the king and the queen this renowned +"Wedding of Figaro," so that the king might give his decision. The +good-natured countenance of the king darkened more and more, and during +Figaro's monologue, in which the different institutions of the state +are ridiculed, especially when, with words full of poison and scorn, the +author alludes to state-prisons, the king rose angrily from his seat. + +"It is a contemptible thing," cried he, vehemently. "The Bastile must be +destroyed before the representation of this piece would not appear as a +dangerous inconsequence. This man ridicules every thing which in a state +ought to be esteemed and respected." + +"This piece will not then be represented?" asked Marie Antoinette, at +the close of the reading. + +"No, certainly not!" exclaimed Louis, "you can be convinced of it; this +piece will not be represented." + +But the clamor, the longings for this representation were more and more +loudly expressed, and more and more pressing. It was in vain that the +king by his decree forbade its already-announced representation in the +theatre of the menus plaisirs. Beaumarchais cried aloud to the murmuring +audience, who complained very loudly against this tyranny, against +this oppression of the king, the consoling words: "Well, sirs, the king +desires that my drama be not represented here, but I swear that it will +be represented, perhaps even in the chancel of Notre Dame." + +It was soon apparent that Beaumarchais' words and the wishes of the +public opinion were stronger than the words and the wishes of the king +and of his highest officers. The king himself felt it and acknowledged +it soon; he shrugged his shoulders compassionately when the chancellor +of the seal, adhering still to his opposition, would by no means consent +to the performance of the drama. + +"You will see," said Louis, with his own soft, good-natured smile--"you +will see that Beaumarchais' credit is better than that of the great-seal +bearer." [Footnote: "Memoires de Madame de Campan," vol. i., p. 279.] + +The king's prophecy was correct--Beaumarchais had more credit than the +chancellor! His powerful patrons in high places, and all those who +made opposition to the king and queen, and at their head the Count de +Provence, banded together to have this piece publicly represented. The +king's consent was elicited from him by the assurance made public +that Beaumarchais had stricken out of his drama all the offensive and +captious parts, and that it was now a mere innocent and somewhat tedious +piece. + +The king gave his consent, and "The Wedding of Figaro" was represented +at the Theatre Francais. + +The effect of this drama on the public was a thing unheard of; so +enthusiastic that Beaumarchais himself laughingly said: "There +is something yet more foolhardy than my piece, and that is, its +result"--that the renowned actress Sophie Arnold, in allusion to this, +that the opponents of this drama had prophesied that it would fall +through, exclaimed: "The piece will fall through to-day more than fifty +times one after another!" + +But even this prophecy of the actress did not reach the full result, +and the sixtieth representation was as crowded as the first. All Paris +wanted to see it, so as to hiss the government, the nobility, clergy, +morality. There was a rush from the provinces to Paris for the sake of +attending the representation of "Figaro's Wedding;" and even those who +hitherto had opposed the performance, pressed forward to see it. + +One day Beaumarchais received a letter from the Duke de Villequier, +asking of him as a favor to give up for that evening his trellised +box in behalf of some ladies of the court, who desired to see "Figaro" +without being seen. + +Beaumarchais answered: "My lord duke, I have no respect for ladies who +desire to see a performance which they consider improper, and who wish +to see it under cover. I cannot stoop to such fancies. I have given my +piece to the public to amuse and not to instruct them, not to procure to +tamed wenches (begueules mitigees) the satisfaction of thinking well of +the piece in a small trellised box, and then to say all manner of evil +against it in public. The pleasure of vice and the honors of +virtue, that is what the prudery of our age demands. My piece is not +double-faced. It must be accepted or repelled. I salute you, my lord +duke, and keep my box." [Footnote: "Correspondance de Diderot et Grimm +avec un Souverain."] + +All Paris chuckled over this letter, which was circulated in hundreds +of copies, as the drama itself had circulated at first. Every one was +convinced that it was the queen who wanted to attend the representation +of "Figaro" in the trellised box; for it, was well known that the +queen, angry at monsieur for having been present with all his suite at +a representation in the box reserved for the court, had openly declared: +"Could she come to the conclusion of seeing this drama, she would only +see it through a small trellised box, and that without any ceremony." + +In laughing at the letter of Beaumarchais, the ridicule was directed +against the queen, who had been refused in so shameful a manner. But +Marie Antoinette did not wish to be laughed at. She still hoped to +overcome her enemies, and to win the public sentiment. She requested an +investigation, she insisted that the Duke de Villequier should openly +acknowledge for whom among the ladies of the court he had asked for the +box; that Beaumarchais should publicly confess that he had not dared +suppose his words were directed against the queen. + +The whole matter was brought to an end by an arbitrary decree. +Beaumarchais was compelled publicly to acknowledge that his famous +letter was directed neither to a duke nor to a peer, but to one of his +friends, whose strange request he had thus answered in the first flush +of anger. But it is evident no one believed in this explanation, and +every one felt pleasure in referring to the queen the expression of +"begueule mitigee." + +Paris, which for a whole winter had laughed at a theatrical piece, and +was satiated with it, was now to assist at the first scene of a drama +whose tragical power and force were to tear France asunder, and whose +continuance was to be marked by blood and tears. + +This important drama, whose opening followed closely Beaumarchais' +drama, exhibited its first scene at Versailles at the opening of the +States-General on the 5th of May, 1789. All Paris, all France watched +this event as the rise of a new sun, of a new era which was to break +upon France and bring her happiness, salvation, and strength. A new, an +unsuspected power entered with it upon the scene, the Tiers Etat; +the third class was, at the opening of the States-General, solemnly +recognized as a third power, alongside of the nobility and clergy. +With the third class, the people and the yeomen entered into the king's +palace; one-half of the people were to make the laws instead of having +to submit to them. + +It was Marie Antoinette who had endeavored with all her influence on the +king that the third class, hitherto barely recognized, barely +tolerated, should appear in a two-fold stronger representation at the +States-General; it was the queen also who had requested Necker's recall. +Unfortunate woman, who bowed both pride and will to the wishes of public +opinion, who yet hoped to succeed in winning again the people's love, +since she endeavored to meet the wishes of the people! + +But this love had turned away from her forever; and whatever Marie +Antoinette might now do to exhibit her candid wishes, her devotedness +was not trusted in by the people, who looked upon her as an enemy, no +longer Queen of France, but simply an Austrian. + +Even on this day of universal joy, on the day of the opening of the +States-General, there was no desire to hide from the queen the hatred +felt against her, but there was the resolve to show her that France, +even in her hour of happiness, ceased not to make opposition to her. + +The opening of the States-General was to be preceded in Versailles +by divine service. In solemn procession the deputies arrived; and the +people who had streamed from Paris and from the whole region round +about, and who in compact masses filled the immense square in front of +the palace, and the whole street leading to the Church of St. Louis, +received the deputies with loud, unbroken shouts, and met the princes +and the king with applause. But no sooner was the queen in sight, than +the people remained dumb; and then, after this appalling pause, which +petrified the heart of the queen, the women with their true instinct of +hatred began to cry out, "Long live the Duke d'Orleans! Long live the +people's friend, the good Duke d'Orleans!" + +The name of the duke thus derisively thrown in the face of the +queen--for it was well known that she hated him, that she had forbidden +him to enter into her apartments--this name at this hour, thrown at +her by the people, struck the queen's heart as the blow of a dagger; +a deathly pallor overspread her cheeks, and nearly fainting she had to +throw herself into the arms of the Princess de Lamballe, so as not to +sink down. [Footnote: See "Count Mirabeau," by Theodore Mundt. Second +edition, vol. iii., p. 234.] + +With the opening of the States-General, as already said, began the first +act of the great drama which France was going to represent before +the eyes of Europe terrified and horrified: with the opening of the +States-General the revolution had begun. Every one felt it; every +one knew it; the first man who had the courage to express it was +Mirabeau--Mirabeau, the deputy of the Third Estate, the count who was at +enmity with all those of his rank, who had solemnly parted with them to +devote himself to the people's service and to liberty! + +On the day of the opening, as he entered the hall in which the +States-General were convened, he gazed with scrutinizing and flaming +eyes on the representatives of the nobility, on those brilliant and +proud lords who, though his equals in rank, were now his inveterate +enemies. A proud, disdainful smile fluttered athwart his lips, which +ordinarily were pressed together with a sarcastic and contemptuous +expression. He then crossed the hall with the bearing of a conqueror, +and took his seat upon those benches from which was launched the +thunderbolt which was to dash to pieces the throne of the lilies. + +A long-tried friend, who was also a friend of the government and of the +nobility, had seen this look of hatred and anger which Mirabeau had +cast upon the gallery of the aristocrats; he now approached Mirabeau +to salute him, and perhaps to pave a way of reconciliation between the +prodigal Count de Mirabeau and his associates in rank. + +"Think," said he, "my friend, that society is not to be won by threats, +but by flatteries; that, when once injured, it is difficult to effect a +reconciliation. You have been unjust toward society, and if you look +for forgiveness you must not be obstinate, but you must stoop to ask for +pardon." + +Mirabeau had listened with impatience, but at the word "pardon," his +anger broke with terrible force. He sprang up, stamped violently on the +floor with his feet; his hair which, like a lion's mane, mantled his +head, seemed to bristle up, his little eyes darted flashes, and his lips +were blanched and trembling, and with a thundering voice he exclaimed: +"I am not here to implore pardon for myself, but that others should sue +for mercy." + +Was Mirabeau himself willing to grant pardon? Had he come with a +reconciling heart into this assembly, where people and king were to +measure their rights one against the other? + +As the good King Louis this day entered the hall, in all the pomp of +his royal dignity, to welcome the States-General with a solemn address, +Mirabeau's eyes were fixed on him: "Behold the victim," said he. +[Footnote: Theodore Mundt: "Graf Mirabeau," vol. iv., p. 15.] + +From this day the struggle began--the struggle of the monarchy against +the revolution, of the liberal party against the reaction, the struggle +of the people against the aristocracy, against every thing which +hitherto had been legitimate, welcomed, and sacred! + +A new day had broken in, and the prophetic mind of the queen understood +that with it came the storm which was to scatter into fragments her +happiness and her peace. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. JOSEPHINE'S RETURN. + + +To rest!--to forget! This was what Josephine sought for in Martinique, +and what she found in the circle of her friends. She wanted to rest from +the pains and struggles which had agitated the last years of her life. +She wanted to forget that she still loved the Viscount de Beauharnais, +though rejected and accused, though he had treacherously abandoned her +for the sake of another woman. + +But he was the father of her children, and there was Hortense with her +large blue eyes and her noble, lovely countenance to remind Josephine +of the father to whom Hortense bore so close a resemblance. Josephine's +tender-heartedness would not suffer the innocent, childish heart of +Hortense to become alienated from her father, or to forget the esteem +and respect which as a daughter she owed to him. Josephine therefore +never allowed any one to utter a word of blame against her husband in +the presence of her daughter; she even imposed silence on her mother +when, in the just resentment of a parent who sees her child suffer, she +accused the man who had brought wretchedness on her Josephine, who at so +early an age had taught her life's sorrows. + +How joyous, beautiful, happy had her Josephine nearly ten years ago +left her home, her country, her family, to go to a foreign land which +attracted her with every thing which can charm a young girl--with the +love of a young and beautiful husband--with the luxury, the pleasures +and festivities of Paris! + +And now after ten years Josephine returned to her father's home, lonely, +abandoned, unhappy, blighted with the mildew which ever deteriorates the +character of a divorced woman; yet so young, with so many ruined hopes, +with so many wounds in the heart! + +Josephine's mother could not pardon him all this, and her countenance +became clouded whenever the little Hortense spoke of her father. And +the child spoke of him so often--for each evening and morning she had to +pray God in his behalf--and when she asked her mother where her brother +Eugene was, why he had not come with them to Martinique; Josephine +answered her, he had remained with his father, who loved him so much, +and who must have at least one of his children with him. + +"Why then can he not, with Eugene, be with us?" asked the little +Hortense, thoughtfully. "Why does he remain in that hateful, stony +Paris, whilst he could live with us in the beautiful garden where so +many charming flowers and so many large trees are to be found? Why is +papa not with us, mamma?" + +"Because he has occupations--because he cannot leave his regiment, my +child," answered Josephine, carefully hiding her tears. + +"If he cannot come to us, mamma, then let us go to him," cried the +loving child. "Come, mamma, let us go on board a ship, and let us go to +our dear papa, and to my dear brother Eugene." + +"We must wait until your father sends for us, until he writes that we +must come," said Josephine, with a sad smile. "Pray to God, my child, +that he may soon do it!" + +And from this time the child prayed God every evening that her father +would soon send for her mother and for herself; and whenever she saw her +mother receive a letter she said: "Is it a letter from my papa? Does he +write for us to travel and to come to him?" + +One day Josephine was enabled to answer this question to her daughter +with a proud and joyous yes. + +Yes, the Viscount de Beauharnais had begged his wife to forget the past, +and to come back to him. He had, with all the contrition of penitence, +with the glow of an awakening love, prayed for pardon; he requested from +her large-heartedness to be once more reunited to him who had despised, +calumniated, and rejected her; he swore with sacred oaths to love her +alone, and to keep to her in unbroken faithfulness. + +At first Josephine received these vows with a suspicious, sorrowful +smile; the wounds of her heart were not yet healed, the bitter +experiences of the past were yet too fresh in her mind; and Madame de la +Pagerie, Josephine's mother, repelled with earnestness every thought +of reconciliation and reunion. She did not wish to lose her daughter a +second time, and see her go to meet a dubious and dangerous happiness; +she did not wish that Josephine, barely returned to the haven of rest +and peace, should once more risk herself on the open, tempestuous ocean +of life. + +But the letters of the viscount were more and more pressing, more and +more tender. He had completely and forever broken with Madame de Gisard; +he did not wish to see her again, and henceforth he desired to be the +true, devoted husband of his Josephine. + +Josephine read these assurances, these vows of love, with a joyous +smile, with a beating heart: all the crushed flowers of her youth raised +up their blossoms again in her heart; she began again to hope, to trust, +to believe once more in the possibility of happiness; she was ready to +listen to her husband's call, and to hasten to him. + +But her mother held her back. She believed not, she trusted not. Her +insulted maternal heart could not forget the humiliations and the +sufferings which this man who now called for Josephine had inflicted +upon her daughter. She could not pardon the viscount for having deserted +his young wife, and that for the sake of a coquette! She therefore +sought to inspire Josephine with mistrust; she told her that these vows +of the viscount were not to be relied upon; that he had not given up his +paramour to come back to Josephine, but that he was forsaken by her and +abandoned by her. Madame de Gisard had regretted to be only the paramour +of the Viscount de Beauharnais, and, as she could never hope to be his +legitimate wife, she had abandoned him, to marry a wealthy Englishman, +with whom she had left France to go with him to Italy. + +At this news Josephine's head would sink down, and, with tears in her +eyes and sorrow in her heart, she promised her mother no more to listen +to the voice of a faithless husband; no more to value the assurances of +a love which only returned to her because it was rejected elsewhere. + +Meanwhile, not only the Viscount de Beauharnais prayed Josephine to +return, but also his father the marquis claimed this from his beloved +daughter-in-law; even Madame de Renaudin confirmed the entire conversion +of Alexandre, and conjured Josephine to hesitate no longer once more to +take possession of a heart which beat with so burning a sorrow and so +longing a love toward her. She pictured to her, besides, how necessary +she was to him; how much in these troublous and stormy days which had +just begun, he was in need of a quiet haven of domestic life, there to +rest after the labors and the conflicts of politics and of public life; +how many dangers surrounded him, and how soon it might happen that he +would need not only a household refuge but also a nurse who would bind +his wounds and keep watch near the bed of sickness. + +For the times of quietness were gone; the brand which the States-General +had flung over France had lit a fire everywhere, in every city, in every +house, in every head; and the flaming speeches of the deputies of the +Third Estate only fanned the fire into higher flames. + +The revolution was there, and nothing could keep back the torrent +of blood, fire, enthusiasm, and hatred. Already the Third Estate had +solemnly proclaimed its separation from Old France, from the ancient +monarchy of the lilies, since that monarchy had abandoned the large +assembly-hall where the States-General held their sessions, and in which +the nobility and the clergy still imagined they were able to maintain +the balance of power against the despised Third Estate. The Tiers Etat +had, in the ballroom, converted itself into the National Assembly, and +with enthusiasm had all these deputies of the third class sworn on the +17th of June, 1789, "never to part one from the other until they had +given a constitution to France." + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, deputy from Blois, had passed with his +colleagues into the ballroom, had with them taken the fatal oath; in +the decisive night of the 4th of August he, with burning enthusiasm, +had renounced all the privileges of the nobility, all his feudal rights; +and, breaking with the past, with all its family traditions and customs, +had passed, with all the passion and zest of his nine-and-twenty years, +into the hostile camp of the people and of liberty. + +The revolution, which moved onward with such rash and destructive +strides, had drawn Alexandre de Beauharnais more and more into its +flood. It had converted the king's major into an enthusiastic speaker +of the Jacobins, then into the secretary of the National Assembly, and +finally into its president. + +The monarchy was not yet powerless; it fought still with all the +bitterness of despair, of the pains of death, against its foes; it still +found defenders in the National Assembly, in the faithful regiments of +the Swiss and of the guards, and in the hearts of a large portion of the +people. The passions of parties were let loose one against another; and +Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, stood +naturally in the first rank of those who were threatened by the attacks +of the royalists. + +Yes, Alexandre de Beauharnais was in danger! Since Josephine knew this, +there was for her but one place which belonged to her, to which she +could lay claim--the place at her husband's side. + +How could she then have withstood his appeals, his prayers? How could +she then have remained in the solitude and stillness of Martinique, when +her husband was now in the fight, in the very struggle? She had, now +that fate claimed it, either to share her husband's triumphs, or to +bring him comfort if he fell. + +The intercessions of her family, even the tears of her mother, could no +longer retain Josephine; at the side of her husband, the father of her +two children, there was her place! No one could deprive her of it, if +she herself wished to occupy it. + +She was entitled to it, she was still the wife of the Viscount de +Beauharnais. The Parliament, which had pronounced its verdict against +the demands of a divorce from the viscount, had, in declaring Josephine +innocent, condemned her husband to receive into his house his wife, if +she desired it; or else, in case she waived this right, to pay her a +fixed annual income. + +Josephine had parted voluntarily from her husband, since she had not +returned to him, but had exiled herself with her father-in-law and her +aunt in Fontainebleau; but she had never laid claims to nor received the +income which Parliament had appointed. She had never assumed the rights +of a divorced wife, but she retained still all the privileges of a +married woman, who at God's altar had bound herself to her husband for a +whole life, in a wedlock which, being performed according to the laws of +the Catholic Church, was indissoluble. + +Now the viscount claimed his wife, and who dared keep her back if she +wished to follow this call? Who could stand between husband and wife, +when their hearts claimed and longed for this reunion? + +The tears of Madame de la Pagerie had attempted it, but had not +succeeded! The soft, patient, pliant Josephine had suddenly become a +strong-minded, joyous, courageous woman; the inconveniences of a long +sea-voyage, the perils of the revolution, into whose open crater she +was to enter, affrighted her not. All the energies of her being began to +develop themselves under the first sunbeams of a renewed love! The years +of sorrow had passed away. Life, love called Josephine again, and she +listened to the call, jubilant and full of friendly trust of undimmed +hope! + +In the first days of September, 1790, Josephine, with the little +Hortense, embarked from Martinique, and after a short, favorable +passage, landed in France, in the middle of October. [Footnote: If, +in the work "Queen Hortense, an Historical Sketch from the Days of +Napoleon," I have given a few different details of Josephine's return to +France and to her husband, I have followed the error common to all the +historians of that time, who represent Josephine returning despite her +husband's will, who receives her into his house, and recognizes her as +his wife, only at the instant supplication of his family, and +especially of his children. It is only of late that all this has been +satisfactorily refuted, and that it has been proved that Josephine +returned only at the instance of her husband's pressing demands. See +Aubenas, "Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 164.--L. M.] + +Again a prophecy accompanied Josephine to France, and perhaps this +prophecy is to be blamed for her sudden departure and her unwavering +resolution to leave Martinique. The old negro woman who, once before +Josephine's departure, had prophesied that she would wear a crown and be +more than a Queen of France--the old Euphemia was still living, and +was still considered as an infallible oracle. A few days before her +departure, Josephine, with all the superstitious faith of a Creole, went +to ask the old prophetess if her journey would be propitious. + +The old Euphemia stared long and fixedly into Josephine's smiling +countenance; then, as if overcome by a sudden thought, she exclaimed: +"Go! go as fast as possible, for death and danger threaten you! Already +are on the watch wicked and bloodthirsty fiends, who every moment are +ready to rush among us with fire and sword, and to destroy the colony in +their cruel wrath!" + +"And shall I safely arrive in France?" asked Josephine. "Shall I again +see my husband?" + +"You will see him again," exclaimed the prophetess, "but hasten to go to +him." + +"Is he threatened with any danger?" demanded Josephine. + +"Not yet!--not at once!" said the old negress. "They now applaud your +husband and recognize his services. But he has powerful enemies, and one +day they will threaten his life, and will lead him to the scaffold and +murder him!" + +Before Josephine left Martinique, a portion of these prophecies of +the old negro woman were to be fulfilled. The wicked and bloodthirsty +fiends, of whom she said they were ready with fire and sword to rush +upon the colony--those fiends did light the firebrand and destroy the +peace of Martinique. + +The resounding cries for freedom uttered in the National Assembly, and +which shook the whole continent, had rushed along across the ocean to +Martinique. The storm-wind of the revolution had on its wings borne the +wondrous story to Martinique--the wondrous story of man's sacred rights, +which Lafayette had proclaimed in the National Assembly, the wondrous +story that man was born free, that he ought to remain free, that there +were to be no more slaves in the land of liberty, in France, and in her +colonies. + +The storm-wind which brought this great news across the ocean to +Martinique scattered it into the negro-cabins, and at first they +listened to it with wondrous delight. Then the delirium of joy came over +them; jubilant they broke their chains, and in wild madness anticipated +their human rights, their personal freedom. + +The revolution, with its terrible consequences of blood and horrors, +broke loose in Martinique, and, exulting in freedom, the slaves threw +the firebrand on the roof of their former masters, rushed with war's +wild cry into their dwellings, and, in freedom's name, punished those +who so long had punished them in tyranny's name. + +Amid the barbaric shouts of those dark free men, Josephine embarked on +board the ship which was to carry her and her little Hortense to France; +and the flames which rose from the roofs of the houses as so many +way-marks of fire for the new era, were Josephine's last, sad farewell +from the home which she was never to see again. [Footnote: Le Normand, +"Memoires de l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 147] + + + + +CHAPTER X. THE DAYS OF THE REVOLUTION. + + +Happiness had once more penetrated into the heart of Josephine. Love +again threw her sun-gleams upon her existence, and filled her whole +being with animation and joy. She was once more united to her husband, +who, with tears of joy and repentance, had again taken her to his heart. +She was once more with her relatives, who, in the day of distress, had +shown her so much love and faithfulness, and finally she had also her +son, her own dear Eugene, from whom she had been separated during the +sad years of their matrimonial disagreements. + +How different was the husband she now found from him she had quitted! He +was now a man, an earnest, thoughtful man, with a fiery determination, +with decidedness of purpose, and yet thoughtful, following only what +reason approved, even if the heart had been the mover. The passions +of youth had died away. The excitable, thoughtless, pleasure-seeking +officer of the king had become a grave, industrious, indefatigable, +moral, austere servant of the people and of liberty. The songs of joy, +of equivocal jesting, of political satire, had died away on those lips +which only opened now in the clubs, in the National Assembly, to utter +inspired words in regard to liberty, fraternity, and equality. + +The most beautiful dancer of Versailles had become the president of the +National Assembly, which made so many tears run, and awoke so much anger +and hatred in the king's palace of Versailles. He at least belonged to +the constitutional fraction of the National Assembly; he was the +friend and guest of Mirabeau and of Lafayette; he was the opponent of +Robespierre, Marat, and Danton, and of all the fanatics of the Mountain +party, who already announced their bloody views, and claimed a republic +as the object of their conflicts. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was no republican, however enthusiastic he +might have been in favor of America's struggle for freedom, however +deeply he had longed to go like Lafayette to America, for the sake of +assisting the Americans to break the chains which yoked them to England, +so as to build a republic for themselves. The enthusiasm of that +day, the enthusiasm for France had driven him upon the path of the +opposition; but while desiring freedom for the people, he still hoped +that the people's freedom was compatible with the power and dignity of +the crown; that at the head of constitutional France the throne of a +constitutional king would be maintained. To bring to pass this reunion, +this balance of right between the monarchy and the people, such was the +object of the wishes of Alexandre de Beauharnais; this was the ultimate +aim of his struggles and longings. + +Josephine looked upon these tumultuous conflicts of parties, upon this +wild storm of politics, with wondering, sad looks. With all the tact of +tender womanhood she held herself aloof from every personal interference +in these political party strifes. At the bottom of her heart a true and +zealous royalist, she guarded herself carefully from endeavoring to keep +her husband back from his chosen path, and to bring into her house and +family the party strifes of the political arena. She wanted and longed +for peace, unity, and rest, and in his home at least her husband would +have no debates to go through, no sentiments to fight against. + +In silence and devotedness Josephine submitted to her husband's will, +and left him to perform his political part, while she assumed the part +of wife, mother, of the representative of the household; and every +evening opened her drawing-room to her friends, and to her husband's +associates in the same conflict. + +What a mixed and extraordinary assemblage was seen in the +drawing-room of the president of the National Assembly! There were +the representatives of old France, the brilliant members of the old +nobility: the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, the Count de Montmorency, the +Marquis de Caulaincourt, the Prince de Salm-Cherbourg, the Princess von +Hohenzollern, Madame de Montesson, the wife of the old Duke d'Orleans; +and alongside of these names of the ancient regime, new names rose up. +There were the deputies of the National Assembly--Barnave, Mounier, +Thouvet, Lafayette, and the favorite of the people, the great Mirabeau. +Old France and Young France met here in this drawing-room of Josephine +on neutral grounds, and the beautiful viscountess, full of grace and +prudence, offered to them both the honors of her house. She listened +with modest bashfulness to the words of the great tribunes of the +people, and oftentimes with a smile or a soft word she reconciled the +royalists, those old friends who sought in this drawing-room for +the Viscountess de Beauharnais, and found there only the wife of the +president of the National Assembly. + +The saloon of Josephine was soon spoken of, and seemed as a haven in +which the refined, elegant manners, the grace, the wit, the esprit, had +been saved from the stormy flood of political strife. Every one sought +the privilege of being admitted into this drawing-room, whose charming +mistress in her own gentleness and grace received the homage of all +parties, pleased every one by her loveliness, her charms, the fine, +exquisite tact with which she managed at all times the sentiments of the +company, and with which she knew how to guide the conversation so +that it would never dwindle into political debates or into impassioned +speeches. + +However violent was the tempest of faction outside, Josephine endeavored +that in the interior of her home the serene peace of happiness should +prevail. For she was now happy again, and all the liveliness, all the +joys of youth, had again found entrance into her mind. The anguish +endured, the tears shed, had also brought their blessing; they had +strengthened and invigorated her heart; with their grave, solemn +memories they preserved Josephine, that child of the South, of the sun, +and of joy, from that light frivolity which otherwise is so often the +common heritage of the Creoles. + +The viscount had now the satisfaction which ten years ago, at the +beginning of his married life, he had so intently longed for, the +satisfaction of seeing his wife occupied with grave studies, with the +culture of her own mind and talents. It was to him a ravishment to see +Josephine in her drawing-room in earnest conversation with Buffon, and +with all the aptitude of a naturalist speak of the organization and +formation of the different families of plants; he exulted in the open +praise paid to her when, with her fine, far-reaching voice, she sang +the songs of her home, which she herself accompanied on the harp; he was +proud when, in her saloon, with all the tact and assurance of a lady of +the world, she took the lead in the conversation, and could speak +with poets and authors, with artists and savants, and that, with +understanding and feeling, upon their latest works and creations; he +was made happy when, passing from serious gravity to the most innocent +gayety, she jested, laughed, and danced, as if she were yet the +sixteen-year-old child whom ten years ago he had made his wife, and from +whom he had then so cruelly exacted that she should demean herself as a +fine, experienced, and highly-refined lady. + +Life had since undertaken to mould the young Creole into an elegant, +highly-accomplished woman, but fortunately life had been impotent to +change her heart, and that heart was ever beating in all the freshness +of youth, in all the joyous warmth and faithfulness of the young girl of +sixteen years who had come to France with so many ideal visions, so many +illusions, so many dreams and hopes. It is true this ideal had vanished +away, these illusions had burst into pieces like meteors in the skies; +the dreams and hopes of the young maiden heart had fallen into dust, but +the love, the confiding, faithful, hoping love, the love assured of the +future, had remained alive; it had overcome the storms and conflicts; it +had been Josephine's consolation in the days of sorrow; it was now her +delight in these days of happiness. + +Her whole heart, her undivided love, belonged to her husband, to her +children, and often from the society gathered in her reception-rooms, +she would slip away and hasten to the bed of her little Hortense to +bid good-night to the child, who never would sleep without bidding +good-night to its mother, who would kneel at the side of the crib with +little Hortense, and utter the evening prayer, asking of God to grant to +them all prosperity and peace! + +But this peace which Josephine so earnestly longed for was soon to be +imperilled more and more, was to be banished from the interior of home +and family, from its most sacred asylum, by the revolution and its +stormy factions. + +An important event, pregnant with results, suddenly moved all Paris, and +filled the minds of all with the most fearful anticipations. + +The king, with his wife and children, had fled! Openly and irretrievably +he had separated himself from country and people; he had, by this +flight, solemnly expressed before all Europe the discord which existed +between him and his people, between the king and the constitution to +which he had sworn allegiance. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, the president of the National Assembly, was +the first to be informed of this extraordinary event. On the morning of +the 21st of June, 1791, M. de Bailly, mayor of Paris, came to announce +to him that the king with all his family had fled from Paris the +previous evening. + +It was the hour at which the sessions of the National assembly began +every morning, and Beauharnais, accompanied by Bailly, hastened to the +Assembly. The deputies were already seated when the president took +the chair with a grave, solemn countenance. This countenance told the +deputies of the people that the president had an important and very +unusual message to communicate, and a deep stillness, an oppressive +silence, overspread the whole assemblage as the president rose from his +seat to address them. + +"Gentlemen," said he, with a voice which, amid the general silence, +sounded solemn and powerful--"gentlemen, I have a sad message to bring +before you. The mayor of Paris has just now informed me that the king +and his family have this night been seduced into flight by the +enemies of the people." [Footnote: Aubenas, "Histoire de l'Imperatrice +Josephine," vol i., p. 171.] + +This news had a stupendous effect on the deputies. At first they sat +there dumb, as if petrified with fear; then they all rose up to make +their remarks and motions in a whirl of confusion, and it required all +the energy and determination of the president to re-establish peace, and +to control their minds. + +The Assembly then, in quiet debate, resolved to declare itself in +permanent session until the termination of this crisis, and gave to the +president full power during this time to provide for the tranquillity +and security of the Assembly. Bailly and Lafayette were by the president +summoned before the deputies, to state what the sentiments of Paris +were, what was the attitude of the National Guards, what were the +precautions they had taken to preserve aright the peace of Paris. + +But this peace was not in danger, and the only one whom the Parisian +people at this moment dreaded, was he who had fled from Paris--the king. +And yet, not for a moment did the people rise in anger against the +king; actuated by a new and overpowering thought, the people in their +enthusiasm for this idea forgot their anger against him who by his deed +had kindled this thought. The thought which was uppermost in all minds +at the flight of the king was this: that the state could subsist even +if there were no king at its head; that law and order still remained in +Paris, even when the king had fled. + +This law and order was the National Assembly, the living representation +and embodiment of the law; the government was there; the king alone had +disappeared. Such was the sentiment which animated all classes, which +brought the people in streaming masses to the palace where the National +Assembly held its sittings. A few hours after the news of the king's +flight had spread through Paris, thousands were besieging the National +Assembly, and shouting enthusiastically: "Our king is here; he is in the +hall of session. Louis XVI. can go; he can do what he wills; our king +is still in Paris!" [Footnote: Prudhomme, "Histoire Parlementaire de la +Revolution," vol. x. p. 241.] + +The Assembly, "the King of Paris," remained in permanent session, +waiting for the developments of events, and working out in committees +the decrees passed in common deliberation, whilst the president and +the secretary remained the whole night in the council-room, so as to +be ready at any moment to rectify fresh news and to issue the necessary +orders. + +Early next morning the most important news had reached the president, +and the deputies hastened from their respective committees into the hall +of session, there to take their seats. + +Amid the breathless silence of the Assembly, President Beauharnais +announced that the king, the queen, the dauphin, Madame, and divers +persons of their suite, had been arrested in Varennes. + +The Assembly received this communication with dignified quietude, for +they were conscious that the king's return would in no wise impair their +own sovereignty, that the power was in their hands, even if the king +were there. In this full assurance of their dignity the National +Assembly passed a decree ordering the proper authorities "to protect +the king's return, to seize and imprison all those who might forget, the +respect they owed to the royal dignity." + +At the same time the National Assembly sent from their number +two deputies, Barnave and Petion, to bring back from Varennes the +unfortunate royal family and to accompany them to Paris. + +Meanwhile the news of the king's capture only increased the people's +enthusiasm for the National Assembly, the truly acknowledged sovereign +of France. Every one was anxious to give expression to this enthusiasm; +the National Guards of Paris begged for the privilege of taking the oath +of allegiance to the National Assembly, and when at the motion of the +president this was granted by the Assembly, a whole detachment was +marched into the hall so as to take the oath of allegiance to the +National Assembly with one voice, amid the applause of the Assembly and +the tribunes. This detachment was followed by fresh companies, and the +people filled the streets to see the National Guards come and go, and +like them to swear allegiance to the National Assembly with enthusiastic +shouts. + +The provinces would not be a whit behind the enthusiasm of Paris; and +whilst the guards swore their oath, from all cities and provinces came +to the president of the National Assembly, addresses congratulating +the Assembly on its triumphs, and promising the most unconditional +devotedness. + +Finally after two days of restless activity, after two days, during +which Alexandre de Beauharnais had hardly found time to quiet his wife +by a note, explaining his absence from home, finally a courier brought +the news that the captive royal family were entering Paris. A second +courier followed the first. He announced that the royal family had +reached the Tuileries surrounded by an immense crowd, whose excitement +caused serious apprehensions. Petion had, therefore, thought it +expedient not to allow the royal family to alight, but had confined them +to the two carriages, and he now sent the keys of these two carriages to +the president of the National Assembly, as it was now his duty to adopt +still further measures. + +Beauharnais proposed that at once twenty deputies be chosen to speed on +to the Tuileries to deliver the royal family from their prison, and to +lead them into the palace. + +The motion was carried, and the deputies reached the court of the +Tuileries yet in time to save the affrighted family from the people, +who, in their wild madness, were about to destroy the carriages, and to +take possession of the king and queen. + +The presence of the deputies imposed silence on the shouts and howlings +of the people. The king had come into the Tuileries, and before him +bowed the people in dumb respect. They quietly allowed that this their +king should open the carriage wherein the other king, the king by God's +grace, Louis XVI., sat a prisoner; they allowed that the king by the +grace of the people, the National Assembly, through its twenty deputies, +should render liberty to Louis and to his family, and lead them quietly +under their protection into the Tuileries. + +But from this day the Tuileries, which for centuries had been the palace +of the kings of France, now became a prison for the King of France! + +Louis XVI. was returned, not as the head, but as the prisoner of the +state; from the moment he left Paris, the ermine mantle of his royalty +had fallen from his shoulders upon the shoulders of the National +Assembly; King Louis XVI. had dethroned himself. + +Amid these fatal storms, amid these ever-swelling revolutionary floods, +there was yet an hour of happiness for Josephine. Out of the wild waves +of rebellion was to rise, for a short time, an island of bliss. The +National Assembly, whose president, Alexandre de Beauharnais, had +once more, in the course of the sessions, been re-elected by general +acclamation, declared itself on the 3d of September, 1791, dissolved, +and its members vanished to make room for the Legislative Assembly, +which organized the very next day. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais, after having so long and so zealously +discharged his duties as a citizen, returned to his Josephine, to his +children; and, weary with the storms and debates of the last months, +longed for a quiet little place, away from the turmoil of the capital +and from the attrition of parties. Josephine acquiesced gladly in the +wishes of her husband, for she felt her innermost being shattered by +these last exciting times, and perhaps she cherished the secret hope +that her husband, once removed from Paris, would be drawn away from the +dangerous arena of politics, into which his enthusiasm had driven +him. She was, and remained at heart, a good and true royalist; and +as Mirabeau, dying in the midst of revolution's storms, had said +of himself, that "he took to his grave the mourning-badge for the +monarchy," [Footnote: Mirabeau died on the 6th of May, 1791.--See, +on his death, "Count Mirabeau," by Theodore Mundt, vol. iv.] so also +Josephine's heart, since the flight to Varennes, wore the mourning-badge +for the unfortunate royal family, who since that day had to endure so +much humiliation, so much insult, and to whom Josephine in her loyal +sense of duty consecrated the homage of a devout subject. + +Josephine, therefore, gladly consented to the viscount's proposal to +leave Paris. Accompanied by their children and by the governess of +Hortense, Madame Lanoy, the viscount and his wife went to a property +belonging to one of the Beauharnais family near Solange. + +Three months were granted to Josephine in the quietude, in the sweet +repose of country-life, at her husband's side, and with her children, to +gather strength from the anxieties and griefs which she had suffered in +Paris. She enjoyed these days as one enjoys an unexpected blessing, a +last sunshine before winter's near approach, with thankful heart to God. +Full of cheerful devotedness to her husband, to her children, her lovely +countenance was radiant with joy and love; she was ever busy, with the +sunshine of her smile, to dissipate the shadows from her husband's brow, +and to replace the impassioned excitements, the honors and distinctions +of his Parisian life, by the pleasantness and joys of home. + +But Alexandra de Beauharnais could no longer find satisfaction in the +quiet, harmless joys of home; he even reproached himself that he could +be cheerful and satisfied whilst France resounded with cries of distress +and complaints, whilst France was torn in her innermost life by the +disputes and conflicts of factions which, no more satisfied with the +speeches of the tribune, filled the streets with blood and wounds. The +revolution had entered into a new phase, the Legislative Assembly had +become the Constituent Assembly, which despoiled the monarchy of the +last appearance of power and degraded it to a mere insignificancy. The +Girondists, those ideal fanatics, who wanted to regenerate France after +the model of the states of antiquity, had seized the power and the +ministerial portefeuilles. The beautiful, witty, and noble Madame Roland +ruled, by means of her husband, the Minister Roland, and was striving to +realize in France the ideal of a republic after the pattern of Greece; +she was the very soul of the new cabinet, the soul of the Girondists, +the rulers of France; in her drawing-room, during the evening, the new +laws to be proposed next day in the Constituent Assembly, were spoken +of, and the government measures discussed. + +For a moment it had seemed as if the king, through his cabinet +of Girondists, would once more be reconciled with his people, and +especially with the Constituent Assembly, as if the nation and the +monarchy would once more endeavor to stand one by the other in harmony +and peace. Perhaps the Girondists had believed in this possibility, +and had regarded the king's assurances that he would adhere to the +constitution, and that he would go hand in hand with his ministers, and +accept the constitution as the faithful expression of his will. But when +they discovered that Louis was not honorable in his assurances; that +he was in secret correspondence with the enemies of France; that in a +letter to his brother-in-law, the Emperor Leopold, he had made bitter +complaints about the constraint to which he was subjected, then +the Girondists were inflamed with animosity, and had recourse to +counter-measures. They decreed the exile of the priests, and the +formation, in the vicinity of Paris, of a camp of twenty thousand +militia from all the departments of France. + +Foreign nations looked upon this decree as a sign of dawning +hostilities, and threatened France with countermeasures. France +responded to the challenge thus thrown at her, and, in a stormy session +of the Assembly, the fatherland was declared to be in danger, the +organization of an army to occupy the frontiers was decreed, and all the +children of the fatherland were solemnly called to her defence. + +This call awoke Alexandre de Beauharnais from the dreamy repose to which +he had abandoned himself during the last months. His country called +him, and he dared not remain deaf to this call; it was his duty to tear +himself from the quiet peace of the household, from the arms of his +wife and family, and place himself in the ranks of the defenders of his +country. + +Josephine heard this resolution with tears in her eyes, but she +could not keep back her husband, whose countenance was beaming with +enthusiasm, and who dreamed of fame and victory. She accompanied +Alexandre to Paris, and after he had been gladly received by the +minister of war, and appointed to the Northern army, she then took from +him a last, fond farewell, entreated him with all the eloquence of love +to spare himself, and not wantonly to face danger, but to preserve his +life for his wife and children. + +Deeply moved by this tender solicitude of his wife, Alexandre promised +to hold her requests as sacred. Once more they embraced each other +before they both quitted Paris on diverging roads. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais went to Valenciennes, where commanded Marshal +Rochambeau, to whom he had been commissioned adjutant. + +Josephine hastened with her children toward Fontainebleau, so at least +to be there united with her husband's father, and to live under his +protection until the return of her husband. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE TENTH OF AUGUST, AND THE LETTER OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + + +Since the death of Mirabeau, the last defender of the monarchy, since +the failure of the contemplated flight, royalty in France had no chance +of existence left; the throne had lost every prop upon which it could +find support, and it sank more and more into the abyss which the +revolution had dug under its feet. + +Marie Antoinette was conscious of it; her foreboding spirit foresaw +the coming evil; her proud soul nearly broke under the humiliations and +griefs which every day brought on. She had hitherto courageously and +heroically struggled against adversity; she had concealed tears and +anguish, to smile at that people which hated her and cursed her, which +insulted and reviled her constantly. But a day was to come in which the +smile would forever depart from her lip--in which Marie Antoinette, the +daughter of the Caesars, so deeply humbled and trodden down in the dust, +would no more lift up her head, would no more rise from the terrible +blow. + +This day was the 10th of August, in the year 1792. The terrible storm, +which so long had filled the air with its mutterings, and had shaken the +throne with its thunderings, was on this day with terrific power to be +let loose and to dash in pieces the monarchy. The king furnished the +occasion for this eruption by dismissing his Girondist ministry, by not +signing the decree for the organization of a national militia, and for +the exile of the priests. + +This refusal was the flash which broke open the heavy clouds that so +long had hung over his head--the flash which caused the tempest to burst +forth. + +Since that day Paris was in a state of rebellion; fresh disturbances +took place every day; and finally, on the morning of the 10th of August, +bands of people rushed to the palace of the Tuileries and surrounded +it with wild howlings and shouts. A portion of the National Guards +endeavored to force the people into a retreat; the other portion united +with the people in fierce assaults upon the Tuileries, and on its +defenders the Swiss. These were massacred by the people armed with +pikes; with jubilant howlings the armed masses rushed over the corpses +of the fallen into the king's palace. + +The Procurator-General Roderer implored the king to save himself with +his family by taking refuge in the National Assembly, for there alone +was safety for him and the queen. + +Louis hesitated; but Marie Antoinette felt once more the pride of a +queen awake within her; she felt it was nobler and worthier to die as +the loyal Swiss had done, to die sword in hand, than to meet pardon and +disgrace, than to bow her head under the yoke. She entreated the king to +remain with the loyal National Guards and to fight with his soldiers and +die in the palace of his fathers. She spoke to the successor of Henry +IV., to the father of the dauphin, for whom he should maintain the +inheritance received; she appealed to the heart, to the honor of Louis; +she spoke with flaming eyes, and with the eloquence of despair. + +But Louis listened not to her, but to the solicitations of Roderer, who +told him that he had but five minutes to save himself, the queen, and +his children; that in five minutes more all would be lost. + +"It cannot be helped," muttered the king; and then with louder voice +he continued: "It is my will that we be conducted into the Legislative +Assembly; I command it!" + +A shriek of terror broke forth from the breast of the queen; her proud +heart resisted once more her husband's weakness, who, for his own and +for her misfortune, was not made of the stuff which moulds kings. + +"Sire," cried she, angrily and excited--"sire, you must first command +that I be nailed to the walls of this palace! I remain here. I stir not +from this spot!" [Footnote: The very words of the queen.--See "Memoires +Secretes et Universelles," par Lafont d'Aussone.] + +But Madame Elizabeth, the Princesses de Lamballe and de Tarent, begged +her with tears to consent; the good king fixed on her sad, weeping +eyes, and Roderer entreated her not to abandon, by her delays, to the +approaching executioners, her husband, her children, and herself. + +Marie Antoinette offered to her husband her last and her greatest +sacrifice; she bowed her proud head to his will; she consented to +accompany the king with her children into the Assembly. + +She took the dauphin in her arms, Madame Therese by the hand, and, at +the side of the king, followed by the Princesses Lamballe and Tarent, +walked out of the palace of the Tuileries to go to the Convent des +Peuillants, where the Legislative Assembly held its sessions. + +What a martyrdom in this short distance from the Tuileries to the +Feuillants--what dishonor and fears were gathered on this path! Between +the deep ranks of Swiss grenadiers and National Guards was this path; +the queen stares fixedly on the ground, and she does not see that her +thin silk shoes will be torn by the hard, fallen leaves of the trees +under which they are moving. + +But the king sees every thing, notices every thing. "How many leaves," +said he, gazing forward--"they fall early this year!" + +Now at the foot of the terrace the advance of the royal family is +stopped by a multitude of people, who, with wild howlings, swing their +pikes and clubs, and in their madness shout: "No, they must not enter +the Assembly!--they are the cause of all our misery! Let us put an end +to all this! Down with them!--down!" + +The queen pays no attention to these shouts; she sees not that the +National Guards are clearing a way by force; she walks forward with +uplifted head, with a countenance petrified like that of Medusa at the +sight of evil. + +But as a man approaches her, seizes the dauphin and takes him in his +arms, the transfixed queen is aroused, and, with all the anguish of a +mother's despair, grapples the arm of the man who wants to rob her of +all she now possesses, her child! + +"Be not afraid," whispered the man, "I will do him no harm, I am but +going to carry him;" and Marie Antoinette, her eyes fixed on the child, +moves forward. At their entrance into the hall of the Assembly the man +gives her back the dauphin, and she makes him sit down near her on the +seats of the ministers. + +A rough voice issues from the midst of the Assembly: "The dauphin +belongs to the nation; place him at the side of the president. The +Austrian is not worthy of our confidence!" + +They tear away from the queen the weeping child, who clings to her, and +who is carried to the president, at whose left hand the king has seated +himself. + +Again a voice is heard reminding the Assembly of the law which forbids +them to deliberate in the presence of the king. + +The royal family must leave the lower portion of the hall, and are led +into a small room, with iron trellis-work, behind the president's chair. + +The royal family, with their attendants, pressed into the small space of +this room, can here at least, away from the gaze of their enemies, hide +their dishonored heads; at least no one sees the nervousness of despair +which now and then agitates the tall figure of the queen, the tears +trembling on her eyelids when she looks to the poor little dauphin, +whose blond curly head lies in her bosom, asleep from exhaustion, +hunger, and sorrow. + +No one sees the king and the queen, but they see and hear every thing. +They hear from without the howlings of the mob, the cannon's roar, the +reports of the rifles, telling them that a bloody fratricidal strife, a +terrible civil war, is raging. They hear there in the hall, a few steps +from them, the fanatical harangues of the deputies, whose words, full +of blood, are like the hands of the murdering Marsellais there without. +Marie Antoinette hears Vergniaud's motion, "to divest the king at once +of his power and rank," and she hears the acclamations of the Assembly +in favor of the motion. She hears the Assembly by their own power +reinvesting the Girondist ministers, dismissed by the king, with their +dignity and power! She hears the Assembly decide "to invite the French +people to form a national compact." + +She hears all this, and the cold perspiration of anguish and horror +covers her brow while she has yet strength enough to force hack her +tears into her heart. She asks for a handkerchief to wipe her forehead. +Not one of the attendants around can furnish a kerchief which is not +stained with the blood of the victims fallen at their side in protecting +the royal family with their lives. [Footnote: "Memoires inedites du +Comte de la Rochefoucauld."] + +At last, at two o'clock in the morning, is this painful martyrdom ended, +and the royal family are led into the upper rooms of the convent, where +hastily and penuriously enough a few chambers had been furnished. + +The howlings of the crowd ascend to their windows. Under those of the +queen's room groups of infuriated women sing the song whose horrible +burden is, "Madame Veto avait promis de faire egorger tout Paris." +Between the sentences other voices shout and howl: "The queen is the +cause of our misery! Kill her! kill the queen, the murderess of France! +Kill Madame Veto! Throw us her head!" + +Three days after, the royal family are led to the Temple. The rulers of +the state are now state prisoners. But the queen had already found the +peace which misfortune generally brings to strong souls; and as she +walked to the Temple, and saw her foot protruding from the extremity +of her shoe, she said with an affecting smile, "Who could have believed +that one day the Queen of France should be in want of shoes!" + +With the 10th of August began the last act of the great tragedy of the +revolution. Its second scene had its representation in the first days of +September, in those days of blood and tears, in which infuriated +bands of the people stormed the prisons to murder the captive priests, +aristocrats, and royalists. + +Under the guillotine fell during this month the head of the queen's +friend, the Princess de Lamballe, who was followed in crowds by the +king's faithful adherents, sealing their loyalty and their love with +their death. + +This loyalty and love for the royal family was during this month branded +as an unpardonable crime, for the National Convention, which on the 21st +of September had taken the place of the Constituent Assembly, on the +25th declared France to be a republic, and the royalists became thereby +criminals, who had sinned in the respect and love which they owed to the +"republic one and indivisible." + +The new republic of France celebrated her saturnalia in the following +months, and unfurled her blood-stained standard over the nation. She +was not satisfied with having brought to the guillotine more than ten +thousand aristocrats and royalists, to terrify the faithful adherents +and servants of the throne. She required, moreover, the death of those +for whose sake so many thousands had perished--the death of the king and +of the queen. + +On the 5th of December began the trial of Louis Capet, ex-King of +France, now accused by the Convention. The pages of history have +illustrated this stupendous and tragical event in all its shapes and +colors. Each party has preyed upon it, the poets have sung it, and made +it the central point of tragedy and romance: but none have painted it +in so telling, in so terse, masterly traits, none have so fully +comprehended and expressed the already stupendous event, as Lieutenant +Napoleon Bonaparte, the future Emperor of France. + +He happened to be in Paris during these days of terror. He had, with all +the energies of his soul, given himself up to the new state of +things, and he belonged to the most upright and zealous faction of +the republicans. He acknowledged himself won over to their ideas, he +participated in their celebrations, he was the friend of many of the +most influential and conspicuous members of the Convention, and he was +rarely absent from their meetings; but in the presence of the awful +catastrophe of the king's accusation and execution his proud and daring +soul shrank back, and, full of misgivings, shuddered within itself. The +young, enthusiastic republican, to his own great horror, found in +the depths of his soul a holy respect and awe in the presence of this +royalty which he so often in words had despised, and the fall of the +king, this enemy of the republic, moved his heart as a calamity which +had fallen upon him and upon all France. He himself gave to one of +his friends in Ajaccio a very correct description of these days. After +narrating the events of the first days of the trial of the king, he +continues: + +"The day after I heard that the advocate Target had refused to undertake +the king's defence, to which he was privileged by virtue of his office. +This is what may be called, in the strictest sense of the word, to erase +one's name from history. What grounds had he for such a low cunning? +'His life I will not save, and mine I dare not risk!' Malherbes, +Tronchet, Deseze, loyal and devoted subjects, to imitate them in their +zeal would be impossible for me; but were I a prince I would have them +sit at my right hand--united together in the most strenuous efforts to +defend the successor of St. Louis. If they survive this deed of sublime +faithfulness, never can I pass by them without uncovering my head. + +"Business detained me unavoidably in Versailles. Only on the 16th of +January did I return to Paris, and consequently I had lost three or four +scenes of this tragedy of ambition. But on the 18th of January I went +to the National Convention. Ah, my friend, it is true, and the most +infuriated republicans avow it also, a prince is but an ordinary man! +His head will as surely fall as that of another man, but whosoever +decrees his death trembles at his own madness, and were he not urged +by secret motives, his vote would die on his lips ere it was uttered. +I gazed with much curiosity at the fearless mortals who were about +deciding the fate of their king. I watched their looks. I searched into +their hearts. The exceeding weightiness of the occasion had exalted +them, intoxicated them, but within themselves they were full of fear in +the presence of the grandeur of their victim. + +"Had they dared retreat, the prince had been saved. To his misfortune, +they had argued within themselves, 'If his head falls not to-day, then +we must soon give ours to the executioner's stroke.' + +"This was the prominent thought which controlled their vote. No pen +can adequately portray the feelings of the spectators in the galleries. +Silent, horrified, breathless, they gazed now on the accused, now on the +defenders, now on the judges. + +"The vote of Orleans sounded forth--'Death!' An electric shock could +not have produced deeper impression. The whole assembly, seized with +an involuntary terror, rose. The hall was filled with the murmurs of +conflicting emotions. + +"Only one man remained seated, immovable as a rock, and that one was +myself. + +"I ventured to reflect on the cause of such indifference (as that of +Orleans) and I found that cause grounded on ambition, but this cannot +justify the conduct of Orleans. It is only thus that I could account +for his action: he seeks a throne, though without any right to it, and +a throne cannot be won if the pretender renounces all claims to public +respect and virtue. + +"I will be brief, for to unfold a mournful story is not my business. +The king was sentenced to death; and if the 21st day of January does +not inspire hatred for the name of France, a glorious name at least will +have been added to the roll-call of her martyrs. + +"What a city was Paris on that day! The population seemed to be in a +state of bewilderment; all seemed to exchange but gloomy looks, and one +man hurried on to meet another without uttering a word. The streets were +deserted; houses and palaces were like graves. The very air seemed to +mirror the executioner. In a word, the successor of St. Louis was led to +the scaffold through the ranks of mourning automatons, that a short time +before were his subjects. + +"If any one is at your side, my friend, when you read this, conceal the +following lines from him, even were he your father. It is a stain on the +stuff of which my character is made--that Napoleon Bonaparte, for the +sake of a human being's destruction, should have been deeply moved and +compelled to retire to his bed, is a thing barely credible, though it is +true, and I cannot confess it without being ashamed of myself. + +"On the night before the 21st of January I could not close my eyes, and +yet I could not explain to myself the cause of this unusual excitement. +I rose up early and ran everywhere to and fro where crowds had gathered. +I wondered at, or much more I despised, the weakness of those forty +thousand National Guards, of which the nineteenth part were practically +the assistants of the executioner. At the gate of St. Denis I met +Santerre; a numerous staff followed him. I could have cut off his ears. +I spat down before him--it was all I could do. In my opinion, the Duke +d'Orleans would have filled his place better. He had set his eyes on a +crown, and, as every one knows, such a motive overcomes much hesitancy. + +"Following the Boulevards, I came to the Place de la Revolution. The +guillotine, a new invention, I had not yet seen. A cold perspiration +ran over me. Near me stood a stranger, who attributed my uneasiness and +pallor to some special interest on my part for the king's fate. 'Do not +be alarmed,' said he, 'he is not going to die; the Convention is only +glad to exhibit its power, and at the foot of the scaffold the king will +find his letters of pardon.' 'In this case,' said I, 'the members of the +Convention are not far from their own ruin, and could a guilty man have +more deserved his fate than they? Whoever attacks a lion, and desires +not to be destroyed by it, must not wound but kill on the spot.' + +"A hollow, confused noise was heard. It was the royal victim. I pushed +forward, making way with my elbows, and being pushed myself. All my +efforts to come closer were fruitless. Suddenly the noise of drums +broke upon the gloomy silence of the crowd. 'This is the signal for +his freedom,' said the stranger. 'It will fall back on the head of +his murderers,' answered I; 'half a crime in a case like this is but +weakness.' + +"A moment's stillness followed. Something heavy fell on the scaffold. +This sound went through my heart. + +"I inquired of a gendarme the cause of this sound. 'The axe has fallen,' +said he. 'The king is not saved then?' 'He is dead.' 'He is dead!' + +"For ten times at least I repeated the words 'He is dead.' + +"For a few moments I remained unconscious. Without knowing by whom, +I was carried along by a crowd, and found myself on the Quai des +Theatines, but could say nothing, except 'He is dead.' + +"Entirely bewildered, I went home, but a good hour elapsed before I +fully recovered my senses." [Footnote: See "Edinburgh Quarterly Review," +1830.] + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN. + + +The king's execution was the signal-fire which announced to the +horrified world the beginning of the reign of terror, and told Europe +that in France the throne had been torn down, and in its stead the +guillotine erected. Yes, the guillotine alone now ruled over France; the +days of moderation, of the Girondists, had passed away; the terrorists, +named also men of the Mountain, on account of the high seats they +occupied in the Convention, had seized the reins of power, and now +controlled the course of events. + +Everywhere, in every province, in every city, the blood-red standard of +the revolution was lifted up; might had become law; death was the rule, +and in lieu of the boasted liberty of conscience was tyranny. Who dared +think otherwise than the terrorists, who presumed to doubt the measures +of the Convention, was a criminal who, in the name of the one and +indivisible republic, was to be punished with death; whose head must +fall, for he had cherished thoughts which agreed not with the schemes of +the revolutionists. + +How in these days of agitation and anguish Josephine rejoiced at her +good fortune, that she had not to tremble for her husband's life; that +she was away from the crater of the revolution which raged in Paris, and +daily claimed so many victims! + +Alexandre de Beauharnais was still with the army. He had risen from rank +to rank; and when, in May, General Custine was deposed by the Committee +of Public Safety from the command of the Northern army, Alexandre de +Beauharnais, who was then chief of the general's staff of this army, was +appointed in his place as commanding general of the Army of the Rhine; +and the important work now to be achieved was to debar the besieging +Prussians and Austrians from recapturing Mayence. The Committee of +Public Safety had dismissed General Custine from his post, because +he had not pressed on with sufficient speed to the rescue of Mayence, +according to the judgment of these new rulers of France, who wanted from +Paris to decide all military matters, and who demanded victories whilst +too often refusing the means necessary for victory. + +General de Beauharnais was to turn to good what General Custine, +according to the opinion of these gentlemen of the Convention, had +failed to do. This was an important and highly significant order, and to +leave it unfulfilled was to excite the anger of the Committee of Safety; +it was simply to deserve death. + +General de Beauharnais knew this well, but he shrank not back from the +weighty and dangerous situation in which he was placed. To his country +belonged his life, all his energies; and it was to him of equal +importance whether his head fell on the battle-field or on the scaffold; +in either case it would fall for his country; he would do his duty, and +his country might be satisfied with him. + +In this enthusiastic love for country, De Beauharnais accepted +cheerfully the offered command of the Army of the Rhine as +general-in-chief, and he prepared himself to march to the rescue of +besieged Mayence. + +Whilst General de Beauharnais was on the French frontier, Josephine +trembled with anxious misgivings. The new dignity of her husband filled +her with fear, for she multiplied the dangers which surrounded him and +his family, for now the eyes of the terrorists were fixed on him. An +unfortunate move, an unsuccessful war operation, could excite the wrath +of these men of power, and send Beauharnais to the guillotine. It +was well known that he belonged not to the Mountain party, but to the +moderate republicans, to the Girondists; and as the Girondists were now +incarcerated, as the Committee of Safety had brought accusations against +them, and declared them guilty of treason toward France, it was also +easy, if it pleased the terrorists, to find a flaw in the character of +General Beauharnais, and to bring accusations against him as had been +done against the Girondists. + +Such were Josephine's fears, which made her tremble for her husband, +for her children. She wished at least to secure these from the impending +danger, and to save and shield them from the guillotine. Her friend, the +Princess von Hohenzollern, was on the eve of leaving for England with +her brother the Prince von Salm, and Josephine was anxious to seize this +opportunity to save her children. She brought Eugene and Hortense to the +princess, who was now waiting in St. Martin, in the vicinity of St. Pol, +in the county of Artois, expecting a favorable moment for departure; for +already was the emigration watched, already it was considered a crime +to leave France. With bitter tears of grief, and yet glad to know her +children safe, Josephine bade farewell to her little ones, and then +returned to Paris, so as to excite no suspicion through her absence. But +no sooner had General Beauharnais heard of Josephine's plan to send her +children from the country, than in utmost speed he dispatched to his +wife a courier bearing a letter in which he decidedly opposed the +departure of the children, for by this emigration his own position would +be imperilled and his character made suspicious. + +Josephine sighed, and, with tears in her eyes, submitted to her +husband's will; she sent a faithful messenger to St. Martin to bring +back Eugene and Hortense. But the Princess von Hohenzollern would not +trust the children to any one; she had sworn to her friend Josephine to +watch over them, never to let them go out of her sight, and she wished +to keep her oath until such time as she could restore the children to +their mother. She therefore returned herself to Paris, to bring back +Eugene and Hortense to Josephine; and this journey, so short and so +insignificant in itself, was nevertheless the occasion that the Princess +von Hohenzollern remained in France; that her brother, the Prince von +Salm, should mount the scaffold! The favorable moment for emigration was +lost through this delay; the journey to Paris had attracted the eyes of +the authorities to the doings of the princess and of her brother, the +contemplated journey to England was discovered, and the incarceration of +the Prince von Salm and of his sister was the natural consequence. A few +months after, the prince paid with his life the contemplated attempt to +migrate; his sister, the Princess von Hohenzollern, was saved from the +guillotine through accident. + +Meanwhile, Josephine had at least her children safely returned, and, +in the quietude and solitude of Fontainebleau, she awaited with beating +heart the future developments of events; she saw increase every day the +dangers which threatened her, her family, and, above all things, her +husband. + +Mayence was still besieged by the Austrian and Prussian forces. General +Beauharnais had not completed the organization of his army so as to +press onward to the rescue of the besieged, whose perils increased every +day. But whilst, in unwearied activity, he urged on the preliminary +operations, a courier arrived, who brought to the general his +appointment to the office of minister of war, and required his immediate +presence in Paris, there to assume his new dignity. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had the courage to answer with a declination +the office. He entreated the Convention to make another choice, for +he considered himself more competent to serve his country against the +coalition of tyrants, among his companions-in-arms, than to be minister +of war amid revolution's storms. + +The Convention pardoned his refusal for the sake of the patriotic +sentiments which he had expressed. But this refusal was to have, not +only for the general, but also for all the aristocracy of France, the +most fatal results. Some of the most fanatical members of the Mountain +party ever considered as an audacious resistance to the commands of +the Convention this refusal of Alexandre de Beauharnais, to accept the +office which the highest powers of the land offered him. + +It was a nobleman, an aristocrat, who had dared oppose the democratic +Convention, and hence the welcome pretext was found to begin the +long-wished-for conflict against the aristocrats. One of the deputies of +the Mountain made the motion to remove from all public offices, from +the army, from the cabinet, all noblemen. Another accused General de +Beauharnais, as well as all officers from amongst the nobility, of +moderate tendencies, and requested at the same time that a list of all +officers from the nobility, and now in the army, should be laid before +the Convention. + +But on this very day a letter from the general reached the Convention. +In this letter he expressed the hope of a speedy rescue of Mayence; he +announced that he had completed the organization of his forces and +all his preparations, and that soon from the camps of Vicembourg and +Lauterburg he would advance against Mayence. + +This letter was received by the Convention with loud acclamations, and +so took possession of all minds that they passed over the motion of +hostility against the nobility, to the order of the day. + +Had General de Beauharnais accomplished his purpose--had he succeeded in +relieving the garrison besieged in Mayence, now sorely pressed, and +in delivering them, this horrible decree which caused so much blood to +flow, this decree against the nobility, would never have appeared, and +France would have been spared many scenes of cruelty and horror. + +Beauharnais hoped still to effect the rescue. Trusty messengers from +Mayence had brought him the news that the garrison held on courageously +and bravely, and that they could hold their ground a few days longer. +Dispatch was therefore necessary; and if in a few days they could be +re-enforced, then they would be saved, provided the other generals +should advance with their troops in time to attack the Austrian and +Prussian forces lying round about Mayence. The French had already +succeeded in obtaining some advantages over the enemy; and General de +Beauharnais could triumphantly announce to the Convention that, on the +22d of July, a warm encounter with the Prussians had taken place at St. +Anna's chapel, and that he had forced the Prussians to a retreat with +considerable loss. + +The Convention received this news with jubilant shouts, and already +trusted in the sure triumph of the French armies against the united +forces of Prussia and Austria. If in these days of joyous excitement +some one had dared renew the motion to dismiss Beauharnais from his +command because he was a nobleman, the mover would undoubtedly have been +considered an enemy of his country. + +How much attention in these happy days was paid to the general's +wife--how busy were even the most fanatical republicans, the dreaded +ones of the Mountain, to flatter her, to give expression to their +enthusiastic praises of the general who was preparing for the arms of +the republic so glorious a triumph! + +Josephine now came every day to be present in the gallery at the +sessions of the Convention, and her gracious countenance radiated a +cheerful smile when the minister of war communicated to the Assembly +the newly-arrived dispatches which announced fresh advantages or closer +approaches of General Beauharnais. By degrees a new confidence filled +the heart of Josephine, and the gloomy forebodings, which so long had +tormented her, began to fade away. + +In the session of the 28th of July, Barrere, with a grave, solemn +countenance, mounted the tribune and with a loud, sad voice announced to +the Convention, in the name of the Committee of Safety, that a courier +had just arrived bringing the news that, on the 23d of July, Mayence, in +virtue of an unjust capitulation, had fallen. + +A loud, piercing shriek, which issued from the gallery, broke the +silence with which the Assembly had received this news. It was Josephine +who had uttered this cry--Josephine who was carried away fainting from +the hall. She awoke from her long swoon only to shed a torrent of tears, +to press her children to her heart, as if desirous to screen them from +the perils of death, which now, said her own forebodings, were pressing +on from all sides. + +Josephine was not deceived: this calamitous news, all at once, changed +the whole aspect of affairs, gave to the Convention and to the republic +another attitude, and threw its dark shadows over the unfortunate +general who had undertaken to save Mayence, and had not been able to +fulfil his word. + +Surely this was not his fault, for General Dubayet had capitulated +before it had been possible for Beauharnais to accomplish the rescue. No +one therefore ventured to accuse him, but undeserved misfortune always +remains a misfortune in the eyes of those who had counted upon success; +and the Convention could never forgive the generals from whom they had +expected so much, and who had not met these expectations. + +These generals had all been men of the aristocracy. As there was +no reason to accuse them on account of their unsuccessful military +operations, it was necessary to attack them with other weapons, and +seek a spot where they could be wounded. This spot was their name, their +ancestors, who in the eyes of the republican Convention rose up like +embodied crimes behind their progeny, to accuse the guilty. + +The Jacobin Club, a short time after the capture of Mayence, began again +in an infuriated session the conflict against the nobility, and the +fanatical Hebert moved: + +"All the noblemen who serve in the army, in the magistracy, in any +public office, must be driven away and dismissed. The people must +require this, the people themselves! They must go in masses to the +Convention, and after exposing the crimes and the treachery of the +aristocrats, must insist on their expulsion. The people must not leave +the Convention, it must remain in permanent session, there until it is +assured that its will is carried out." + +The multitude with loud, jubilant tones cried, "Yes. yes, that is what +we want, let us go to the Convention! No more nobility! the nobles are +our murderers!" + +The next day, the Jacobins, accompanied by thousands of shouting women +and infuriated men, went to the Convention to make known its will in the +name of the people. The Convention received their petition and decreed +the exile and the dissolution of the nobility, and delivered to the +punishment of the law the guilty subject who would dare use the name of +noble. + +General de Beauharnais saw full well the blow aimed at him, and at all +the officers from the nobility in the army; he foresaw that they would +not stop at these measures; that soon he and his companions of fate +would be accused and charged with treason, as had been already done to +General Custine, and to so many others who had paid with their lives +their tried loyalty to the republic. He wanted to anticipate the +storm, and sent in his resignation. As the Convention left his petition +unanswered, he renewed it, and as it remained still ineffective, he +gladly, forced to this measure by sickness, transferred his command +to General Landremont. The Convention had then to grant him leave of +absence, and, as it maintained him in his rank, they ordered him back to +Paris. + +At last Josephine saw her husband again, for whom during the last +few months she had suffered so much anxiety and pain. At last she was +enabled to bring to her children the father for whom every evening they +had prayed God to guard him from foes abroad and from foes at home. As a +gift sent again by Heaven, she received her husband and entreated him to +save himself with his family from revolution's yawning abyss, which was +ready to swallow them all, and to go away with his own into a foreign +land, as his brother had done, who for some months past had been in +Coblentz with the Prince d'Artois. + +But Alexandre de Beanharnais rejected with something like anger these +tearful supplications of his wife. He was not blinded to the dangers +which threatened him, but he wanted to meet them bravely; true to the +oath he had taken to the republic and to his country, he wished as a +dutiful son to remain near her, even if his allegiance had to be paid +with his death. + +Josephine, on the bosom of her husband, wept hot, burning tears as he +communicated to her his irrevocable decision not to leave France, but in +the depths of her heart she experienced a noble satisfaction to find her +husband so heroic and so brave, and, offering him her hand, said with +tears in her eyes: + +"It is well--we remain; and if we must go to the scaffold, we will at +least die together." + +The general, with his wife and children, retired to his small property, +Ferte-Beauharnais, where he longed to obtain rest during a few happy +months of quietude. + +But the fearful storms which had agitated France in her innermost life, +now raged so violently that each household, each family, trembled; there +was neither peace nor rest in the home nor in the hearts of men. + +The Convention, threatened from outside by failures and defeats--for the +capture of Mayence by the Prussians and Austrians had been followed by +the capture of Toulon in September by the English--the Convention wanted +to consolidate at least its internal authority, and to terrify by severe +measures those who, on account of the misfortunes on the frontiers, +might hope for a fresh change of affairs in the interior, and who might +help it to pass. + +Consequently the Convention issued a decree ordering all dismissed +or destitute soldiers to return in four-and-twenty hours to their +respective municipalities, under pain of ten years in chains, and at the +same time forbade them to enter Paris or to approach the capital nearer +than ten leagues. + +A second decree ordered the formation of a revolutionary army in Paris, +to which was assigned the duty of carrying out the decrees of the +Convention. + +Finally a third decree, which appeared on the 17th of September, ordered +the arrest and punishment of all suspected persons. + +This decree thus characterized the suspected ones: "All those who, by +their conduct, their relations, their discourses, their writings, had +shown themselves the adherents of tyranny, of federalism, the enemies +of liberty, much more all the ex-nobles, men, women, fathers, brothers, +sons or daughters, sisters or brothers, or agents of the migrated ones, +all who had not invariably exhibited and proved their adherence to the +revolution." + +With this decree the days of terror had reached their deepest gloom; +with this decree began the wild, bloody hunting down of aristocrats and +ci-devants; then began suspicions, accusations which needed no +evidence to bring the accused to the guillotine; then were renewed +the dragonnades of the days of Louis XIV., only that now, instead of +Protestants, the nobles were hunted down, and hunted down to death. The +night of the St. Bartholomew, the night of the murderess Catharine de +Medicis and of her mad son Charles IX., found now in France its cruel +and bloody repetition; only this night of horror was prolonged during +the day, and shrank not back from the light. + +The sun beamed upon the pools of blood which flowed through the streets +of Paris, and packs of ferocious dogs in large numbers lay in the +streets, and fed upon this blood, which imparted to these once tamed +creatures their natural wildness. The sun beamed on the scaffold, +which, like a threatening monster, lifted itself upon the Place de la +Revolution, and the sun beamed upon the horrible axe, which every day +out off so many noble heads, and ever glittering, ever menacing, rose up +from the midst of blood and death. + +The sun also shone upon the day in which Marie Antoinette, like her +husband, ascended the scaffold, to rest at last in the grave from all +her dishonor and from the agonies of the last years. + +This day was the 16th of October, 1793. For the last four months, Marie +Antoinette had longed for this day as for a long-expected bliss; four +months ago she had been led from the prison of the Temple into the +Conciergerie, and she knew that the prisoners of the Conciergerie only +left it to obtain the freedom which men do not give, but which God gives +to the suffering ones, the freedom of death. + +Marie Antoinette longed for this liberty, and for this deliverance of +death. How distant behind were the days of happiness, of joyous youth, +far behind in infinite legendary distance! How long since this tall, +grave figure, with its proud and yet affable countenance, had lost +all similarity to the charming Queen Marie Antoinette, around whom had +fluttered the genii of beauty, of youth, of love, of happiness; who once +in Trianon had represented the idyl of a pastoral queen; who, in the +exuberance of joy, had visited in disguise the public opera-ball; who +imagined herself so secure amid the French people as to believe she +could dispense with the protection of "Madame Etiquette;" who then was +applauded by all France with jubilant acclamations, and who now was +persecuted with mad anger! + +No, the queen of that day, Marie Antoinette, who, in the golden halls of +Versailles and of the Tuileries, received the homage of all France, and +who, with smiling grace and face radiant with happiness, responded to +all this homage; she had no resemblance with Louis Capet's widow, who +now stands before the tribunal of the revolution, and gravely, firmly +gives her answers to the proposed questions. + +She has also made her toilet for this day; but how different is this +toilet of the Widow Capet from that which once Marie Antoinette had worn +to be admired! + +Then could Marie Antoinette, the frivolous, fortunate daughter of bliss, +shut herself up in her boudoir for long hours with her confidante the +milliner, Madame Bertier, to devise some new ball-dress, some new fichu, +some new ornament for her robes; then could Leonard, for this queen with +her wondrous blond hair, tax all the wealth of his science and of his +imagination; to invent continually new coiffures and new head-dresses +wherewith to adorn the beautiful head of the Queen Marie Antoinette, on +whose towering curls clustered tufts of white plumes; or else diminutive +men-of-war unfurled the net-work of their sails; or else, for variety's +sake, on that royal head was arranged a garden, a parterre adorned with +flowers and fruits, with butterflies and birds of paradise. + +The Widow Capet needs no milliner now; she needs no friseur now for +her toilette. Her tall, slim figure is draped in a black woollen dress, +which the republic at her request has granted her to mourn her beheaded +husband; her neck and shoulders, once the admiration of France, are now +covered with a white muslin kerchief, which in pity Bault, her attendant +at the jail, has given her. Her hair is uncovered, and falls in long +natural curls on either side of her transparent, blanched cheeks. This +hair needs no powder now; the long sleepless nights, the anxious days, +have covered it with their powder forever, and the thirty-eight-year-old +widow of Louis Capet wears on her head the gray hairs of a +seventy-year-old woman. + +In this toilet, Marie Antoinette stands before the tribunal of the +revolution from the 6th to the 13th day of October. There is nothing +royal about her, nothing but her look and the proud attitude of her +figure. + +And the people who fill the galleries in closely-packed masses, and +who weary not to gaze on the queen in her humiliation, in her toilet +of anguish, the people claim constantly that Marie Antoinette will rise +from her rush-woven seat; that she will allow herself to be stared at by +these masses of people, whom curiosity and not compassion have brought +there. + +Once, as at the call from the public in the galleries, she rose up, the +queen sighed: "Ah, will not the people soon be tired of my sufferings?" +[Footnote: Marie Antoinette's own words.--See Goncourt, "Histoire de +Marie Antoinette," p. 404.] + +Another time her dry, blanched lips murmured, "I thirst." But no one +near her dares have compassion on this sigh of agony from the queen; +each looks embarrassed at his neighbor; not one dares give a glass of +water to the thirsty woman. + +One of the gendarmes has at last the courage to do so, and Marie +Antoinette thanks him with a look which brings tears in the eyes of the +gendarme, and which may perchance cause his death to-morrow under the +guillotine as a traitor! + +The gendarmes who guard the queen have alone the courage to show pity! + +One night, as she is led from the hall of trial to her prison, Marie +Antoinette becomes so exhausted, so overpowered, that staggering, she +murmurs, "I can see no longer! I can go no farther! I cannot move!" + +One of the gendarmes walking alongside of her offers his arm, and +supported by it Marie Antoinette totters up the three stone steps which +lead into the prison. + +At last, at four o'clock in the morning, on the 15th of August, the +jury have given their verdict. It runs: "Death!--execution by the +guillotine!" + +Marie Antoinette has heard the verdict with unmoved composure, whilst +the noise from the excited crowd in the galleries is suddenly hushed as +by a magic spell, and even the faces of the infuriated fish women turn +pale! + +Marie Antoinette alone has remained calm; grave and cool she rises from +her seat and herself opens the balustrade to leave the hall and return +to her prison. + +And then at last, on the morning of the 16th of October, her sorrows +will end, and Marie Antoinette can find refuge in the grave! Her soul is +almost joyous and serene; she has suffered so much, and for her to sink +into death is truly blessedness! + +She has passed the undisturbed hours of the night in writing to her +sister-in-law, Madame Elizabeth, and this letter is also the queen's +testament. But the widow of Louis Capet has no riches, no treasures, no +property to will; she has nothing left which belongs to her--nothing but +her love, her tears, her farewell salutations. These she leaves behind +to all those who have loved her. She takes leave of her relatives, her +brothers and sisters, and cries out to them a farewell. + +"I had friends," she continues; "the thought of being forever separated +from them, and your grief for my death, are my deepest sorrow; you will +at least know that to the last moment I have remembered you." + +Then, when Marie Antoinette has finished this letter, some of whose +characters here and there are disfigured by her tears, she thinks of +leaving to her children a last token of remembrance--one which the +executioner's hand has not desecrated. + +The only ornament which remains is her long hair, whose silver-gray +locks are the tearful history of her sufferings. + +Marie Antoinette with her own hands despoils herself of this last +ornament; she cuts off her long hair behind the head, so as to leave +it as a last token to her children, to her relatives and friends. Then, +after having taken her spiritual farewell of life, she prepares herself +for the last great ceremony of her existence, for death. + +She feels exhausted, weary unto death, and she strengthens herself for +this last toilsome journey, that she may worthily pass through it. + +Marie Antoinette needs food, and with courageous mind she eats a +chicken's wing which has been brought to her. After having eaten, she +makes her last toilet, the toilet of death. + +The wife of the jailer, at the queen's request, gives her one of her own +chemises, and Marie Antoinette puts it on. Then she clothes herself +with the garments which she has worn during her days of trial before the +tribunal of the revolution, only over the black woollen dress, which she +has often mended and patched with her own hand, she puts on a mantle +of white needlework. Around her neck she ties a small plain kerchief of +white muslin, and, as it is not allowed her to mount the scaffold +with uncovered head, she puts on it the round linen hood which the +peasant-women used to wear. Black stockings cover her feet, and over +them she draws shoes of black woollen stuff. + +Her toilet is now ended--earthly things have passed away! Ready to meet +death, the queen lays herself down on her bed and sleeps. + +She still sleeps when she is notified that a priest is there, ready to +come in, if she will confess. + +But Marie Antoinette has already unveiled her heart to God; she will +have none of these priests of reason, whom the republic has ordained, +after having exiled or murdered with the guillotine the priests of the +Church. + +"As I cannot do as I please," she has written to Madame Elizabeth, in +her farewell letter, "so must I endure it if a priest is sent to me; but +I now declare that I will tell him not a word, that I will consider him +entirely as a stranger to me." + +And Marie Antoinette held her word. She forbids not the priest Girard +to come in, but she answers in the negative when he asks her if she will +receive from him the consolations of religion. + +She paces her small cell to and fro, to warm herself, for her feet are +stiff with cold. As seven o'clock strikes, the door opens. + +It is the executioner of Paris, Samson, who enters. + +A slight tremor runs through the queen's frame. "You come very early, +sir," murmurs she, "could you not delay somewhat?" + +As Samson replies in the negative, Marie Antoinette assumes again +a calm, cold attitude. She drinks without any reluctance the cup +of chocolate which has been brought to her from a neighboring cafe. +Proudly, calmly, she allows her hands to be bound with strong ropes +behind her back. + +At eleven o'clock she finally leaves her room to descend the corridor, +and to mount into the wagon which waits for her before the gate of the +Conciergerie. + +No one guides her on the way; no one bids her a last farewell; no one +shows a sympathizing or sad countenance to the departing one. + +Alone, between two rows of gendarmes posted on both sides of the +corridor, the queen walks forward; behind her is Samson, holding in +his hand the end of the rope; the priest and the two assistants of the +executioner follow him. + +On the path of Death--such is the suite of the queen, the daughter of an +emperor! + +Perchance at this hour thousands were on their knees to offer to God +their heart-felt prayers for Marie Antoinette, whom in the silence +of the soul they still call "the queen;" perchance many thousand +compassionate hearts pour out warm tears of sympathy for her who now +ascends into the miserable wagon, and sits on a plank which ropes have +made firm to both sides of the vehicle. But those who pray and weep have +retired into the solitude of their rooms, for God alone must receive +their sighs and see their tears. The eyes which follow the queen on +her last journey must not weep; the words which are shouted at her must +betray no compassion. + +Paris knows that this is the hour of the queen's execution, and the +Parisian crowd is ready, it is waiting. In the streets, in the windows +of the houses, on the roofs, the people have stationed themselves in +enormous masses; they fill the whole Place de la Revolution with their +dark, destructive forms. + +Now resound the drums of the National Guard posted before the +Conciergerie. The large white horse, which draws the chariot in which +Marie Antoinette sits backward, at the side of the priest, is driven +onward by the man who swings on its back. Behind her in the wagon is +Samson and his assistants. + +The queen's face is white; all blood has left her cheeks and lips, but +her eyes are red; they have wept so much, unfortunate queen! She weeps +not now. Not one tear dims her eye, which pensively and calmly soars +above the crowd, then is lifted up to the very roofs of the houses, then +again is slowly lowered, and seems to stare over the human heads away +into infinite distance. + +Calm and pensive as the eye is the queen's countenance, her lips +are nearly closed, no nervous movement on her face tells whether she +suffers, whether she feels, whether she notices those tens of thousands +of eyes which are fixed on her, cold, curious, sarcastic! And yet Marie +Antoinette sees every thing! She sees yonder woman who lifts up her +child; she sees how this child with his tiny hands sends a kiss to the +queen! Suddenly a nervous agitation passes over the queen's features, +her lips tremble, and her eyes are obscured with a tear! This first, +this single token of human sympathy has revived the heart of the queen +and awakened her from her torpor. + +But the people are bent upon this, that Marie Antoinette shall not reach +the end of her journey with this last comfort of pity. They press on, +howling and shouting, scorning and jubilant, nearer and nearer to the +wagon; they sing sarcastic songs on Madame Veto, they clap hands, and +point at her with the finger of scorn. + +She, however, is calm; her look, cold and indifferent, runs over the +crowd; only once it flames up with a last angry flash as she passes +by the Palais Royal, where Philippe Egalite, the ex-Duke d'Orleans, +resides, as she reads the inscription which he had placed at the gate of +his palace. + +At noon the chariot reaches at last its destination. It stops at the +foot of the scaffold, and Marie Antoinette alights from the wagon, and +then calm and erect ascends the steps of the scaffold. + +Her lips have not opened once on this awful journey; they now have no +word of complaint, of farewell! The only farewell which she has yet to +say on earth is told by her look--by a look which is slowly directed +yonder to the Tuileries--it is the farewell to past memories--it deepens +the pallor on the cheeks, it opens her lips to a painful sigh. She then +bows her head--a momentary, breathless silence follows. Samson lifts up +the white head, which once had been the head of the Queen of France, and +the people cry and shout, "Long live the republic!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THE ARREST. + + +Uninterruptedly had the guillotine for the last three months of the +year 1793 continued its destructive work of murder, and the noblest +and worthiest heads had fallen under this reaper of Death. No personal +merit, no nobility of character, no age, no youth, could hope to escape +the death-instrument of the revolution when a noble name stood up as +accuser. Before this accuser every service was considered as nothing; +it was enough to be an aristocrat, a ci-devant, to be suspected, to be +dragged as a criminal before the tribunal of the revolution, and to be +condemned. + +The execution of the queen was followed by that of the Girondists; and +this brilliant array of noble and great men was followed in the next +month by names no less noble, no less great. It was an infuriated chase +of the aristocrats as well as of the officers, of all the military +persons who, in the unfortunate days of Toulon and of Mayence, had been +in the army, and who had been dismissed, or whose resignation had been +accepted. + +The aristocrats were tracked in their most secret recesses, and not +only were they punished, but also those who dared screen them from the +avenging hand of the republic. The officers were recognized under +every disguise, and the very fact that they had disguised themselves or +remained silent as to their true character was a crime great enough to +be punished with the guillotine. + +More than twenty generals were imprisoned during the last months of the +year 1793, and many more paid with their lives for crimes which they had +never committed, and which had existence only in the heated imagination +of their accusers. Thus had General Houchard fallen; he was followed +in the first days of the new year of 1794 by the Generals Luckner and +Biron. + +Alexandre de Beauharnais had served under Luckner, he had been Biron's +adjutant, he had been united with General Houchard in the unfortunate +attempt to relieve Mayence. It was therefore natural that he should be +noticed and espied. Besides which, he was an aristocrat, a relative of +many of the emigres, the brother of the Count de Beauharnais, who was +now residing in Coblentz with the Count d'Artois, and it had not been +forgotten what an important part Alexandre de Beauharnais had played +in the National Assembly; it was well known that he belonged to the +moderate party, that he had been the friend of the Girondists. + +Had the Convention wished to forget it, the informers were there to +remind them of it. Alexandre de Beauharnais was denounced as suspected, +and this denunciation was followed, in the first days of January, by an +arrest. He was taken to Paris, and at first shut up in the Luxemburg, +where already many of his companions-in-arms were incarcerated. + +Josephine was not in Ferte-Beauharnais when the emissaries of the +republic came to arrest her husband. She was just then in Paris, whither +she had gone to seek protection and assistance for Alexandre at the +hands of influential acquaintances; in Paris she learned the arrest of +her husband. + +The misfortune, which she had so long expected and foreseen, was now +upon her and ready to crush her and the future of her children. Her +husband was arrested--that is to say, he was condemned to die. + +At this thought Josephine rose up like a lioness; the indolence, the +dreamy quietude of the creole, had suddenly vanished, and Josephine was +now a resolute, energetic woman, anxious to risk every thing, to try +every thing, so as to save her husband, the father of her children. She +now knew no timidity, no trembling, no fear, no horror; every thing +in her was decision of purpose; keen, daring action. Letters, visits, +petitions, and even personal supplications, every thing was tried; there +was no humiliation before which she shrank. For long hours she sat in +the anterooms of the tribunal of the revolution, of the ministers who, +however much they despised the aristocrats, imitated their manners, +and made the people wait in the vestibule, even as the ministers of +the tyrant had done; with tears, with all the eloquence of love, she +entreated those men of blood and terror to give her back her husband, or +at least not to condemn him before he had been accused, and to furnish +him with the means of defence. + +But those new lords and rulers of France had no heart for compassion; +Robespierre, Marat, Danton, could not be moved by the tears which a wife +could shed for an accused husband. They had already witnessed so much +weeping, listened to so many complaints, to so many cries of distress, +their eyes were not open for such things, their ears heard not. + +France was diseased, and only by drawing away the bad blood could she +be restored to health, could she be made sound, could she rise up again +with the strength of youth! And Marat, Danton, Robespierre, were the +physicians who were healing France, who were restoring her to health +by thus horribly opening her veins. Marat and Danton murdered from +bloodthirsty hatred, from misanthropy and vengeance; Robespierre +murdered through principle, from the settled fanatical conviction, that +France was lost if all the old corrupt blood was not cleansed away from +her veins, so as to replenish them with youthful, vitalizing blood. + +Robespierre was therefore inexorable, and Robespierre now ruled over +France! He was the dictator to whom every thing had to bow; he was at +the head of the tribunal of revolution; he daily signed hundreds of +death-warrants; and this selfsame man, who once in Arras had resigned +his office of judge because his hand could not be induced to sign +the death-warrant of a convicted criminal [Footnote: See "Maximilian +Robespierre," by Theodore Mundt, vol. i.]--this man, who shed tears over +a tame dove which the shot of a hunter had killed, could, with heart +unmoved, with composed look, sit for long hours near the guillotine on +the tribune of the revolution, and gaze with undimmed eyes on the heads +of his victims falling under the axe. + +He was now at the summit of his power; France lay bleeding, trembling +at his feet; fear had silenced even his enemies; no one dared touch +the dreaded man whose mere contact was death; whose look, when coldly, +calmly fixed on the face of any man, benumbed his heart as if he had +read his sentence of death in the blue eyes of Robespierre. + +At the side of Robespierre sat the terrorists Fouquier-Tinville and +Marat, to whom murder was a delight, blood-shedding a joy, who with +sarcastic pleasure listened unmoved to the cries, to the tearful prayers +of mothers, wives, children, of those sentenced to death, and who fed on +their tears and on their despair. + +With such men at the head of affairs it was natural that the reign of +terror should still be increasing in power, and that with it the number +of the captives in the prisons should increase. + +In the month of January, 1794, the list of the incarcerated within the +prisons of Paris ran up to the number of 4,659; in the month of February +the number rose up to 5,892; in the beginning of April to 7,541; and at +the end of the same month it was reckoned that there were in Paris +eight thousand prisoners. [Footnote: Thiers, "Histoire de la Revolution +Francaise," vol. vi., p. 41] + +The greater the number of prisoners, the more zealous was the tribunal +of the revolution to get rid of them; and with satisfaction these judges +of blood saw the new improvements made in the guillotine, and which not +only caused the machine to work faster, but also prevented the axe from +losing its edge too soon by the sundering of so many necks. + +"It works well," exclaimed Fouquier-Tinville, triumphantly; "to-day we +have fifty sentenced. The heads fall like poppy-heads!" + +And these fifty heads falling like poppy-heads, were not enough for his +bloodthirstiness. + +"It must work better still," cried he; "in the next decade, I must have +at least four hundred and fifty poppy-heads!" + +And then, as if inspired by a joyous and happy thought, his gloomy +countenance became radiant with a grinning laughter, and, rubbing his +hands with delight, he continued: "Yes, I must have four hundred and +fifty! Then, if we work on so perseveringly, we will soon write over +our prison-gates, 'House to let!'" [Footnote: "Histoire de l'Imperatrice +Josephine."] + +They worked on perseveringly, and the vehicles which carried the +condemned to execution rolled every morning with a fresh freight through +the streets of Paris, where the guillotine, with its glaring axe, +awaited them. + +The month of April, as already said, had brought the number of prisoners +in Paris to eight thousand; the month of April had therefore more +executions to engrave with its bloody pen into the annals of history. +On the 20th of April fell on the Place de la Revolution the heads of +fourteen members of the ex-Parliament of Paris; the next day followed +the Duke de Villeroy, the Admiral d'Estaing, the former Minister of War +Latour du Pin, the Count de Bethune, the President de Nicolai. One day +after, the well-laden wagon drove from the Conciergerie to the Place de +la Revolution; in it were three members of the Constituent Assembly, +and to have belonged to it was the only crime they were accused of. Near +these three sat the aged Malesherbes, with his sister; the Marquis de +Chateaubriand, with his wife; the Duchess de Grammont, and Du Chatelet. +It will be seen that the turn for women had now come; for those women +who were now led to the execution had committed no other crime than to +be the wives or the relatives of emigrants or of accused persons, than +to bear names which had shone for centuries in the history of France. + +Josephine also had an ancient aristocratic name; she also was related +to the migrated ones, the wife of an accused, of a prisoner! And she +wearied the tribunal of the revolution constantly with petitions, with +visits, with complaints. They were tired of these molestations, and it +was so easy, so convenient to shield one's self against them! There was +nothing else to do but to arrest Josephine; for once a prisoner, she +could no longer--in anterooms, where she would wait for hours; in the +street before the house-door, where she would stand, despite rains and +winds--she could no longer trouble the rulers of France, and beseech +them with tears and prayers for her husband's freedom. The prisoner +could no more write petitions, or move heaven and earth for her +husband's sake. + +The Viscountess de Beauharnais was arrested. On the 20th of April, as +she happened to be at the proper authority's office to obtain a pass +according to the new law, which ordered all ci-devants to leave Paris +in ten days, Josephine was arrested and led into the Convent of the +Carmelites, which for two years had served as a prison for the bloody +republic, and from which so many of its victims had issued to mount the +wagon which led them to the guillotine. + +Amid this wretchedness there was one sweet joy. Alexandre de Beauharnais +had no sooner heard of the arrest of his wife, than he asked as a favor +from the tribunal of the revolution to be removed into the same prison +where his wife was. In an incomprehensible fit of merciful humor his +prayer was granted; he was transferred to the Convent of the Carmelites, +and if the husband and wife could not share the same cell, yet they were +within the same walls, and could daily (through the turnkeys, who had to +be bribed by all manner of means, by promises, by gold, as much as could +be gathered together among the prisoners) hear the news. + +Josephine was united to her husband. She received daily from him news +and messages; she could often, in the hours when the prisoners in +separate detachments made their promenades in the yard and in the +garden, meet Alexandre, reach him her hand, whisper low words of trust, +of hope, and speak with him of Eugene and Hortense, of these dear +children who, now deserted by their parents, could hope for protection +and safety only from the faithfulness and love of their governess, +Madame Lanoy. The thought of these darling ones of her heart excited +and troubled Josephine, and all the pride and courage with which she had +armed her heart melted into tears of anxiety and into longings for her +deserted children. + +But Madame Lanoy with the most faithful solicitude watched over the +abandoned ones; she had once sworn to Josephine that if the calamity, +which Josephine had constantly anticipated, should fall upon her and +upon her husband, she would be to Hortense and Eugene a second mother; +she would care for them and protect them as if they were her own +children. And Madame Lanoy kept her promise. + +To place them beyond the dangers which their very name made imminent, +and also perhaps to give by means of the children evidence of the +patriotic sentiments of the parents, Madame Lanoy left with the children +the viscount's house, where they had hitherto resided, and occupied +with both of them a small shabby house, where she established herself +as seamstress. The little eleven-year-old Hortense, the daughter of the +Citizeness Beauharnais, was now the assistant of the Citizeness Lanoy, +at the trade of seamstress. Eugene was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker; +a leather apron was put on, and then with a plank under his arm, +and carrying a plane in his hand, he went through the streets to the +workshop of the cabinet-maker, and every one lauded the patriotic +sentiments of the Citizeness Lanoy, who tried to educate the brood of +the ex-aristocrats into orderly and moral beings. + +Eugene and Hortense fell rapidly and understandingly into the plan of +their faithful governess; they transformed themselves in their language, +in their dress, in their whole being and appearance, into little +republicans, full of genuine patriotism. Like their cousin, Emile de +Beauharnais, whose mother (the wife of the elder brother of the Viscount +de Beauharnais) had already for a long time languished in prison, they +attended the festivals which had for its object the glorification of the +republic, and, alongside of the Citizeness Lanoy, the little milliner +Hortense followed the procession of her quarter of the city, perhaps +to awaken thereby the good-will of the authorities in favor of her +imprisoned parents. + +Then, when Madame Lanoy thought this good-will had been gained, she +made a step further, and undertook to have the children present to the +Convention a petition for their parents. This petition ran thus: + +"Two innocent children appeal to you, fellow-citizens, for the freedom +of their dear mother--their mother against whom no reproach can be +made but the misfortune of being born in a class from which, as she has +proven, she ever felt completely estranged, for she has ever surrounded +herself with the best patriots, the most distinguished men of the +Mountain. After she had on the 26th of Germinal requested a pass in +order to obey the law, she was arrested on the evening of that day +without knowing the cause. Citizen representatives, you cannot be +guilty of oppressing innocence, patriotism, and virtue. Give back to +us unfortunate children our life. Our youth is not made for suffering." +Signed: EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS, aged twelve years, and HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS, +aged eleven years. [Footnote: "Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," par +Aubenas.] + +To this complaint of two deserted children no more attention was paid +than to the cries of the dove which the hawk carries away in its claws, +but perhaps the innocent touching words of the petition had awakened +compassion in the heart of some father. + +It is true no answer was given to the petition of the children, but the +Citizeness Lanoy was allowed to take the children of the accused twice +a week into the reception-room of the Carmelite Convent, that there they +might see and speak to their mother. + +This was a sweet comfort, an unhoped-for joy, as well to Josephine as to +her husband; for if he was not permitted to come into the lower room and +see the children, yet he now saw them through the eyes of his wife, and +through her he received the wishes of their tender affection. + +What happiness for Josephine, who loved her children with all the +unrestrained fondness of a Creole! what happiness to see her Eugene, her +Hortense, and to be permitted to speak to them! How much they had to say +one to another, how much to communicate one to the other! + +It is true much had to be passed in silence if they would not excite +the anger of the turnkey, who was always present at the meeting of the +children with their mother. Strict orders had been given that Josephine +should never whisper one word to the children, or speak to them of the +events of the day, of what was going on beyond the prison walls. The +least infringement of this rule was to be punished by debarring the +children from having any further conversation with their mother. + +And yet they had so much to say; they needed her advice so much, so as +to know what future steps they might take to accomplish their mother's +freedom! They had so much to tell to Josephine about relatives and +friends, and above all so much to say about what was going on outside +of the prison! But how bring her news? how speak to their mother? how +receive her message in such a way that the jailer's ears could not know +what was said? + +Love is full of invention. It turns every thing into subserviency to +its end. Love once turned the dove into a carrier; love made Josephine's +children find out a new mail-carrier--it made them invent the lapdog +mail. + +Josephine, like all Creoles, had, besides her love for flowers, botany, +and birds, a great fondness for dogs. Never since the earliest days of +her childhood had Josephine been seen in her room, at the promenade, or +in her carriage, without one of these faithful friends and companions of +man, which share with the lords of creation all their good qualities +and virtues, without being burdened with their failings. The love, +the faithfulness, the cunningness of dogs are virtues, wherewith they +successfully rival man, and the dogs boast only of one quality which +amongst men is considered a despicable vice, namely, the canine +humbleness which these animals practise, without egotism, without +calculation, whilst man practises it only when his interest and his +selfishness make it seem advantageous. + +Two years before, a friend of Josephine had given her a small, young +model of the then fashionable breed of dogs, a small lapdog, and at +once Josephine had made a pet of the little animal, which had been +recommended to her as the progeny of a rare and genuine race of lapdogs. +It is true the little Fortune had not fulfilled what had been promised; +he had not grown up exactly into a model of beauty and loveliness. +With small feet, a long body of a pale yellow rather than red, a thick, +double, flat nose, this lapdog had nothing of its race but the black +face, and the tail in the shape of a corkscrew. Besides all this, he was +undoubtedly of a surly, quarrelsome disposition, and he preferred the +indolent and ease of his cushion to either a promenade with Josephine or +to a game with her children. + +But since Josephine was no more there, since her beautiful hands no more +presented him his food, a change had come over Fortune's character; +he had awakened from the effeminacy of happiness to full activity. The +children had but to say, "We are going to mamma," and at once Fortune +would spring up from his cushion with a cheerful bark, and run out into +the streets, describing circles and performing joyous leaps. Fortune, +as soon as the reception-room of the prison was opened, was always the +first to rush in, barking loudly at the jailer; then, when his spite +was over, to run with all the signs of passionate tenderness toward his +mistress; then he would surround her with caresses, and leap, bark, and +whine, until she noticed him, until she should have kissed and embraced +the children, and then taken him up in her arms. + +But one day, as the door of the reception-room opened, and Eugene and +Hortense entered with Madame Lanoy, Fortune's loud barking trumpet +sounded not, and he sprang not forward toward Josephine. He walked on +gravely with measured steps at the side of Madame Lanoy, who led him +with a string which she had fastened to his collar. With important, +thoughtful mien, he gazed resignedly and gravely at his mistress, and +even for his hated foe the jailer he had but a dull growl, which he soon +repressed. + +Josephine was somewhat alarmed at this change in Fortune's demeanor, +and after she had welcomed, taken to her bosom and kissed her darling +children, after she had saluted the good Madame Lanoy, she inquired why +Fortune was so sad and why he was led as a captive. + +"Because he is so wild and unruly, mamma," said Eugene, with a peculiar +smile, "because he wants always to be the first to salute you, and +because he barks so loud that we cannot possibly for some time hear what +our dear mamma has to say." + +"And then, in the street, he is so wicked and troublesome," cried +Hortense, with eagerness, "and he always begins quarrelling and fighting +with every dog which passes by, and we must stand there and wait for him +when we are so anxious to see our dear mamma." + +"For all these reasons," resumed Madame Lanoy, with slow, solemn +intonation, "for all these reasons we have thought it necessary to chain +Fortune and to tighten up his collar." + +"And you have done quite well, citizeness," growled the turnkey, "for +I had already thought of silencing forever the abominable lapdog if he +again barked at me so." + +Josephine said nothing, but the peculiar smile she had noticed on +her children's face had passed, at the words of Madame Lanoy, over +Josephine's radiant countenance, and she now with her pet names called +Fortune to her, to press him to her heart, to pat him, and by all these +caresses to make amends for his having his collar somewhat tightened. + +But whilst thus petting him, and tenderly smoothing down his sleek fur, +her slim fingers quickly and cautiously passed under the wide collar of +Fortune. Then her eyes were rapidly directed toward the jailer. He was +engaged in animated conversation with Madame Lanoy, who knew how to make +him talk, by inquiring after the health of his little sick daughter. + +A second time Josephine's fingers were passed under Fortune's +collar--for she had well understood the words of Madame Lanoy--with a +woman's keen instinct she understood why Fortune's collar had been drawn +closer about him. She had felt the thin, closely-folded paper, which +was tied up with the string in the dog's collar, and she drew it out +rapidly, adroitly to hide it in her hand. She then called Hortense and +Eugene, and whilst she talked with them, she slowly and carefully, under +pretext of adjusting more closely the kerchief round her neck, secreted +the paper in her bosom. + +The jailer had seen nothing; he was telling Madame Lanoy, with all the +pride of a kind father, that all the prisoners were anxious about his +little Eugenie; that all, more than once a day, inquired how it fared +with the little one; that she was the pet of the prisoners, who were so +delighted to have the child with them, and for long hours to jest and +play with her. Unfortunate captives, who nattered the child, and feigned +love for it, so as to move the father's heart, and instil into it a +little compassion for their misfortune! + +When Eugene and Hortense came the next time with their faithful Lanoy, +Fortune was again led by the string as a prisoner, and this time +Josephine was still more affectionate than before. She not only welcomed +him at his entrance, and lifted him up in her arms, but she was yet, +if possible, more affectionate toward him at the time of departure, +and embraced him, and tried if the collar had not been buckled on too +tightly, if the string which was tied round it did not hurt him too +much. And whilst she examined this, Eugene was telling the jailer that +he was now a worthy apprentice of a cabinet-maker, and that he hoped one +day to be a useful citizen of the republic. The jailer was listening to +him with a complacent smile, and had no suspicion that at this moment +Josephine's cunning fingers were making sure with the string under the +collar the note in which she gave an answer to the other note that she +had before found under the collar of Fortune. [Footnote: "Souvenirs d'un +Sexagenaire," par M.L. Arnould, vol. iii., p. 3.] + +From this day, Josephine knew every thing of importance in Paris; from +this time she could point out to her children the means to pursue so as +to win to their parents influential and powerful friends, so that they +might one day be delivered from their captivity. Fortune was love's +messenger between Josephine and her children; a beam of happiness +had penetrated both cells, where lived Alexandre de Beauharnais and +Josephine, and they owed this gleam only to the lapdog mail. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. IN PRISON. + + +Since France had become a democratic republic, since the differences +in rank were abolished, and liberty, equality, and fraternity alone +prevailed, the aristocracy was either beyond the frontiers of France +or else in the prisons. Outside of the prison were but citoyens and +citoyennes; inside of the prison were yet dukes and duchesses, counts +and countesses, viscounts and viscountesses; there, behind locks +and bars, the aristocracy was represented in its most glorious and +high-sounding names. + +And there also, within these walls, was the proud, strict dame, whom +Marie Antoinette had once, to her misfortune, driven away from the +Tuileries, and who had not been permitted to possess a single foot of +ground in all France--there, within the prison with the aristocrats, +lived also Madame Etiquette. She had to leave the Tuileries with the +nobility, and with the nobility she had entered into the prisons of the +Conciergerie and of the Carmelite Convent. There she ruled with the same +authority and with the same gravity as once in happier days she had done +in the king's palace. + +The republic had mixed together the prisoners without any distinction, +and in the hall, where every morning they gathered together to attend to +the roll-call of the condemned who were to report for the guillotine; in +the narrow rooms and cells, where they passed the rest of the day, +the republic had made no distinction between all these inmates of the +prison, dukes and simple knights, duchesses and baronesses, princesses +of the blood and country nobility of inferior degree. But etiquette +was there to remedy this unseemliness of fate and to re-establish the +natural order of things--etiquette, which had enacted rules and laws for +the halls of kings, enforced them also in the halls of prisons. Only for +the ladies of the most ancient nobility, the duchesses and princesses of +the blood, in the prison-rooms, as once in the king's halls, the small +stool (tabouret) was reserved, and they were privileged to occupy the +rush-bottomed seats which were in the prisons, and which now replaced +the tabouret. No lady of inferior rank would consent to sit down in +their presence unless these ladies of superior rank had expressly +requested and entitled their inferior companions of misfortune to do so. +When, at the appointed hour, the halls were abandoned for the general +promenade in the yards of the Conciergerie, or in the small cloistered +gardens of the Carmelites, this recreation was preceded by a ceremony +which shortened its already short hour by at least ten minutes: the +ladies and the gentlemen, according to their order, rank, and nobility, +placed themselves in two rows on either side of the outer door, and +between them passed on first in ceremonial order of rank, as at a +court-festival, the ladies and gentlemen who at court were entitled +to the high and small levees, as well as to the tabouret, and to the +kissing of the queen's hand. As they passed, each bowed low, and then, +with the same due observance of rank, as was customary at court, the +ladies and gentlemen of inferior titles followed two by two, when the +higher nobility had passed. [Footnote: "Souvenirs de la Marquise de +Crequi," vol. v]. + +It was yet the court-society which was assembled here in the rooms and +cells of the prison; only this court-society, this aristocracy, had no +more King Louis to do homage unto, but they served another king, they +bowed low before another queen! This king to whom the nobility of France +belonged was Death; this queen to which proud heads bowed low was the +Guillotine! + +It was King Death who now summoned the aristocrats to his court; the +scaffold was the hall of festivity where solemn homage was made to this +king. It would therefore have been against all etiquette to crowd into +this hall of festivity with beclouded countenance; this would have +diminished the respect due to King Death, if he had not been approached +with full-court ceremonial, and with the serene, easy smile of a +courtier. To die, to meet death was now a distinction, an honor for +which each almost envied the other. When at ten o'clock in the morning +the gathering took place in the large room, the conversation was of the +most cheerful and unaffected easiness; they joked, they laughed, they +speculated on politics, though it was well known that in a few minutes +yonder door was to open, and that on its threshold the jailer would +appear, list in hand; that from this list he would call out with his +loud, croaking voice, as Death's harbinger, the names of those whose +death-warrants had been yesterday signed by Robespierre, and who would +have immediately to leave the hall, to mount the wagons which were +already waiting at the prison's gate to drive them to the guillotine. + +While the jailer read his list, suspense and excitement were visible on +all faces, but no one would have so deeply lowered himself as to betray +fear or anguish when his name fell from the lips of the jailer. The +smile remained on the lip, friends and acquaintances were bidden +farewell with a cheerful salutation, and with easy, unaffected demeanor +they quitted the hall to mount the fatal vehicle. + +To die gracefully was now considered as much bon ton as it had been once +fashionable gracefully to enter the ballroom and do obeisance to +the king; contempt and scorn would have followed him who might have +exhibited a sorrowful mien, hesitation, or fear. + +One morning the jailer had read his list, and sixteen gentlemen and +ladies of the aristocracy had consequently to leave the hall of the +Conciergerie to enter both wagons now ready at the gate. As they were +starting for the fatal journey a second turnkey appeared, to say +that through some accident only one of the wagons was ready, and that +consequently only eight of the sentenced ones could be driven to the +guillotine. This meant that the accident nullified eight death-warrants +and saved the lives of eight sentenced persons. For it was not +probable that these eight persons would next morning be honored with +an execution. Their warrants were signed, their names had been called; +neither the tribunal of the revolution nor the jailer could pay special +attention whether their heads had fallen or not. The next day would +bring on new condemnations, new lists, new distinctions for the wagons, +new heads for the guillotine. Whoever, on the day appointed for the +execution, missed the guillotine, could safely reckon that his life +was saved; that henceforth he was amongst the forgotten ones, of whom a +great number filled the prisons, and who expected their freedom through +some favorable accident. + +To-day, therefore, only eight of the sixteen condemned were to mount the +wagon. But who were to be the favored ones? The two turnkeys, with cold +indifference, left the choice to the condemned. Only eight could be +accommodated in the wagon, they said, and it was the same who went or +who remained. "Make your choice!" + +A strife arose among the sixteen condemned ones--not as to who might +remain behind, but as to those who might mount into the wagon. + +The ladies declared that, according to the rules of common politeness, +which allowed ladies to go first, the choice belonged to them; the +gentlemen objected to this motion of the ladies on the plea that to +reach the guillotine steps had to be ascended, and as etiquette required +that in going up-stairs the gentlemen should always precede the ladies, +they were also now entitled to go first and to mount the steps of the +scaffold before the ladies. At last all had to give way to the claims of +the Duchess de Grammont, who declared that at this festival as at every +other the order of rank was to be observed, and that she, as well as all +the gentlemen and ladies of superior rank, had the undisputed privilege +now, as at all other celebrations, to take the precedency. + +No one ventured to oppose this decision, and the Duchess de Grammont, +proud of the victory won, was the first to leave the room and mount the +wagon. + +Another time the turnkey began to read the list: every one listened +with grave attention, and at every call a clear, cheerful "Here I am!" +followed. + +But after the jailer, with wearied voice, had many times repeated a name +from his list, the accustomed answer failed. No one came forward, no one +seemed to be there to lay claim to that name and to the execution. +The jailer stopped a few minutes, and as all were dumb, he continued, +indifferent and unmoved, to call out the names. + +"We will then have only fifteen heads to deliver to-day," said he, after +reading the list, "for there must have been a mistake. One of the +names is false, or else the person to whom it belongs has already been +delivered." + +"It is probably but a blunder of the pen!" exclaimed a handsome young +man who, smiling, stepped out of the crowd of listeners and passed on to +the side where the victims stood. "You read Chapetolle. There is no +such name here. The hand of the writer was probably tired of writing the +numerous lists of those who are sentenced to death, and he has therefore +written the letters wrong. My name is Chapelotte, and I am the one meant +by Chapetolle." + +"I do not know," said the jailer, "but it is certain that sixteen +sentenced ones ought to go into the wagons, and that only fifteen have +reported themselves in a legal way." + +"Well, then, add me in an illegal manner to your fifteen," said the +young man, smiling. "Without doubt it is my name they intended to write. +I do not wish to save my life through a blunder in writing, and who +knows if another time I may find such good company as to-day in your +chariot? Allow me then to journey on with my friends." + +The jailer had no reason to refuse him this journey, and he had the +satisfaction besides of being thus able to deliver sixteen sentenced +prisoners to the guillotine. + +Such was the society of the aristocrats, among whom Josephine lived the +long, dreary days of her imprisonment. The cell she occupied was +shared by two companions of misfortune, the Duchess de Aguillon and the +beautiful Madame de Fontenay, who afterward became Madame Tallien, so +distinguished and renowned for her beauty and wit. Therese de Fontenay +knew, and every one knew, that she was already sentenced, even if her +sentence was not yet written down and countersigned. It was recorded in +the heart of Robespierre. He had sentenced her, without any concealment. +She had but a few weeks more to endure the martyrdom, the anguish of +hope and of expectation. She was his secure victim; Robespierre needed +not hasten the fall of this beautiful head, which was the admiration of +all who saw it. This beauty was the very crime which Robespierre wanted +to punish, for with this beauty, Therese de Fontenay, who then resided +in Bordeaux with her husband, had captivated the old friend and +associate in sentiments of Robespierre, the fanatical Tallien; with +this beauty she had converted the man of blood and terror into a +soft, compassionate being, inclined to pardon and to mercy toward his +fellow-beings. + +Tallien had been sent as commissionnaire from the Convention to +Bordeaux, and there with inexorable severity he had raged against the +unfortunate merchants, from whom he exacted enormous assessments, and +whom he sentenced to the guillotine if they refused, or were unable to +pay. But suddenly love changed the bloodthirsty tiger into a sensitive +being, and the beautiful Madame de Fontenay, who had become acquainted +with Tallien in the prison of Bordeaux, had worked a complete change in +his whole being. For the first time this man, who unmoved had condemned +to death King Louis and the Girondists, found on his lips the word +"pardon;" for the first time the hand which had signed so many +death-warrants wrote the order to let a prisoner go free. + +This prisoner was Therese de Fontenay, the daughter of the Spanish +banker Cabarrus, and she rewarded him for the gift of her life with +a smile which forever made him her captive. From this time the +death-warrants were converted into pardons from his lips, and for every +pardon Therese thanked him with a sweet smile, with a glowing look of +love. + +But this leniency was looked upon as criminal by the tribunal of +terror in Paris. They recalled the culprit who dared pardon instead of +punishing; and if Robespierre did not think himself powerful enough +to send Tallien as a traitor and as an apostate to the scaffold, +he punished him for his leniency by separating from him Therese de +Fontenay, who had abandoned the husband forced upon her, and who had +followed Tallien to Paris, and Robespierre had sent her to prison. + +There, at the Carmelites', was Therese de Fontenay; she occupied the +same cell as Josephine; the same misfortune had made them companions and +friends. They communicated one to the other their hopes and fears; +and when Josephine, with tears in her eyes, spoke to her friend of her +children, of her deep anguish, for they were alone and abandoned in the +world outside of the prison walls, whilst their unfortunate pitiable +mother languished in prison, Therese comforted and encouraged her. + +"So long as one lives there is hope," said Therese, with her enchanting +smile. "Myself, who in the eyes of you all am sentenced to death, +hope--no, I hope not--I am convinced that I will soon obtain my freedom. +And I swear that, as soon as I am free, I will stir heaven and earth to +procure the liberty of my dear friend Josephine and of her husband the +Viscount de Beauharnais, and to give back to the poor orphaned children +their parents." + +Josephine answered with an incredulous smile, and a shrugging of the +shoulders; and then Therese's very expressive countenance glowed, and +her large, black eyes flashed deeper gleams. + +"You have no faith in me, Josephine," she said, vehemently; "but I +repeat to you, I will soon obtain my freedom, and then I will procure +your liberty and that of your husband." + +"But how will you obtain that?" asked Josephine, shaking her head. + +"I will ruin Robespierre," said Therese, gravely. + +"In what do your means of ruining him consist?" + +"In this letter here," said Therese, as she drew out of her bosom a +small paper folded up. "See, this sheet of paper; it consists but of a +few lines which, since they would not furnish me with writing-materials, +I have written with my blood on this sheet of paper, which I found +yesterday in the garden during the promenade. The turnkey will give this +letter to-day to Tallien. He has given me his word, and I have promised +him that Tallien will recompense him magnificently for it. This letter +will ruin Robespierre and make me free, and then I will procure the +freedom of the Viscount and of the Viscountess de Beauharnais." + +"What then, in that letter is the magic word which is to work out such +wonders?" + +Therese handed the paper to her friend. + +"Read," said she, smiling. + +Josephine read: "Therese of Fontenay to the citizen Tallien. Either in +eight days I am free and the wife of my deliverer, the noble and brave +Tallien, who will have freed the world from the monster Robespierre, or +else, in eight days, I mount the scaffold; and my last thought will be +a curse for the cowardly, heartless man who has not had the courage to +risk his life for her he loved, and who suffers for his sake, for his +sake meets death--who had not the mind to consider that with daring deed +he must destroy the bloodthirsty fiend or be ruined by him. Therese de +Fontenay will ever love her Tallien if he delivers her; she will +hate him, even in death, if he sacrifices her to Robespierre's +blood-greediness!" + +"If, through mishap, Robespierre should receive this letter, then you +and Tallien are lost," sighed Josephine. + +"But Tallien, and not Robespierre, will receive it, and I am saved," +exclaimed Therese. "Therefore, my friend, take courage and be bold. Wait +but eight days patiently. Let us wait and hope." + +"Yes, let us wait and hope," sighed Josephine. "Hope and patience are +the only companions of the captive." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. DELIVERANCE. + + +Meanwhile the patience of the unfortunate prisoners of the Carmelite +convent were to be subjected to a severe trial; and the very next day +after this conversation with Therese de Fontenay, Josephine believed +that there was no more hope for her, that she was irrevocably lost, as +her husband was lost. For three days she had not seen the viscount, nor +received any news from him. Only a vague report had reached her that the +viscount was no longer in the Carmelite convent, but that he had been +transferred to the Conciergerie. + +This report told the truth. Alexandre de Beauharnais had once more been +denounced, and this second accusation was his sentence of death. For +some time past the fanatical Jacobins had invented a new means to find +guilty ones for the guillotine, and to keep the veins bleeding, so as +to restore France to health. They sent emissaries into the prisons to +instigate conspiracies among the prisoners, and to find out men wretched +enough to purchase their life by accusing their prison companions, and +by delivering them over to the executioner's axe. Such a spy had been +sent into that portion of the prison where Beauharnais was, and he had +begun his horrible work, for he had kindled discord and strife among the +prisoners, and had won a few to his sinister projects. But Beauharnais's +keen eye had discovered the traitor, and he had loudly and openly +denounced him to his fellow-prisoners. The next day, the spy disappeared +from the prison, but as he went he swore bloody vengeance on General de +Beauharnais. [Footnote: "Memoires du Comte de Lavalette," vol. i., p. +175.] + +And he kept his word; the next morning De Beauharnais was summoned +for trial, and the gloomy, hateful faces of his judges, their hostile +questions and reproaches, the capital crimes they accused him of, led +him to conclude that his death was decided upon, and that he was doomed +to the guillotine. + +In the night which followed his trial, Alexandre de Beauharnais wrote to +his wife a letter, in which he communicated to her his sad forebodings, +and bade her farewell for this life. The next day he was transferred to +the Conciergerie--that is to say, into the vestibule of the scaffold. + +This letter of her husband, received by Josephine the next day after her +conversation with Therese de Fontenay, ran thus: + +"The fourth Thermidor, in the second year of the republic. All the signs +of a kind of trial, to which I and other prisoners have been subjected +this day, tell me that I am the victim of the treacherous calumny of a +few aristocrats, patriots so called, of this house. The mere conjecture +that this hellish machination will follow me to the tribunal of the +revolution gives me no hope to see you again, my friend, no more +to embrace you or our children. I speak not of my sorrow: my tender +solicitude for you, the heartfelt affection which unites me to you, +cannot leave you in doubt of the sentiments with which I leave this +life. + +"I am also sorry to have to part with my country, which I love, for +which I would a thousand times have laid down my life, and which I +no more can serve, but which beholds me now quit her bosom, since she +considers me to be a bad citizen. This heart-rending thought does not +allow me to commend my memory to you; labor, then, to make it pure +in proving that a life which has been devoted to the service of the +country, and to the triumph of liberty and equality, must punish that +abominable slanderer, especially when he comes from a suspicious +class of men. But this labor must be postponed; for in the storms of +revolution, a great people, struggling to reduce its chains to dust, +must of necessity surround itself with suspicion, and be more afraid to +forget a guilty man than to put an innocent one to death. + +"I will die with that calmness which allows man to feel emotion at the +thought of his dearest inclinations--I will die with that courage which +is the distinctive feature of a free man, of a clear conscience, of an +exalted soul, whose highest wishes are the prosperity and growth of the +republic. + +"Farewell, my friend; gather consolation from my children; derive +comfort in educating them, in teaching them that, by their virtues +and their devotion to their country, they obliterate the memory of my +execution, and recall to national gratitude my services and my claims. +Farewell to those I love: you know them! Be their consolation, and +through your solicitude for them prolong my life in their hearts! +Farewell! for the last time in this life I press you and my children to +my heart!--ALEXANDRE BEAUHARNAIS." + +Josephine had read this letter with a thousand tears, but she hoped +still; she believed still in the possibility that the gloomy forebodings +of her husband would not be realized; that some fortunate circumstance +would save him or at least retard his death. + +But this hope was not to be fulfilled. A few hours after receiving +this letter the turnkey brought to the prisoners the bulletin of the +executions of the preceding day. It was that day Josephine's turn to +read this bulletin to her companions. She therefore began her sad task; +and, as slowly and thoughtfully she let fall name after name from her +lips, here and there the faces of her hearers were blanched, and their +eyes filled with tears. + +Suddenly Josephine uttered a piercing cry, and sprang up with the +movement of madness toward the door, shook it in her deathly sorrow, as +if her life hung upon the opening of that door, and then she sank down +fainting. + +Unfortunate Josephine! she had seen in the list of those who had been +executed the name of General Beauharnais, and in the first excitement +of horror she wanted to rush out to see him, or at least to give to his +body the parting kiss. + +On the sixth Thermidor, in the year II., that is, on the 24th of +July, 1794, fell on the scaffold the head of the General Viscount de +Beauharnais. With quiet, composed coolness he had ascended the scaffold, +and his last cry, as he laid his head on the block, was, "Long live the +republic!" + +In the wagon which drove him to the scaffold, he had found again a +friend, the Prince de Salm-Kirbourg, who was now on his way to the +guillotine, and who had risked his life in bringing back to Paris the +children of Josephine. + +His bloodthirsty enemies had not enough of the head of General +Beauharnais; his wife's head also should fall, and the name of the +traitor of his country was to be extinguished forever. + +Two days after the execution of her husband, the turnkey brought to +Josephine the writ of her accusation, and the summons to appear before +the tribunal of the revolution--a summons which then had all the +significancy of a death-warrant. + +Josephine heard the summons of the jailer with a quiet, easy smile; she +had not even a look for the fatal paper which lay on her bed. Near this +bed stood the physician, whom the compassionate republic, which would +not leave its prisoners to die on a sick-bed, but only on the scaffold, +had sent to Josephine to inquire into her illness and afford her relief. + +With indignation he eagerly snatched the paper from the bed, and, +returning it back to the jailer, exclaimed: "Tell the tribunal of the +revolution that it has nothing more to do with this woman! Disease will +bring on justice here, and leave nothing to do for the guillotine. In +eight days Citoyenne Beauharnais is dead!" [Footnote: Aubenas, "Histoire +de l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 235.] + +This decision of the physician was transmitted to the tribunal, which +resolved that the trial of Madame Beauharnais would be postponed for +eight days, and that the tribunal would wait and see if truly death +would save her from the guillotine. + +Meanwhile, during these eight days, events were to pass which were to +give a very different form to the state of things, and impart to the +young republic a new, unexpected attitude. + +Robespierre ruled yet, he was the feared dictator of France! But Tallien +had received the note of his beautiful, fondly-loved Therese, and he +swore to himself that she should not ascend the scaffold, that she +should not curse him, that he would possess her, that he would win her +love, and destroy the fiend who stood in the way of his happiness, whose +blood-streaming hands were every day ready to sign her death-warrant. + +On the very same day in which he received the letter of Therese, +he conversed with a few trusty friends, men whom he knew detested +Robespierre as much as himself, and who all longed for an occasion to +destroy him. They planned a scheme of attack against the dictator who +imperilled the life of all, and from whom it was consequently necessary +to take away life and power, so as to be sure of one's life. It was +decided to launch an accusation against him before the whole Convention, +to incriminate him as striving after dominion, as desirous of breaking +the republic with his bloody hands, and ambitious to exalt himself into +dictator and sovereign. Tallien undertook to fulminate this accusation +against him, and they all agreed to wait yet a few days so as to gain +amongst the deputies in the Convention some members who would support +the accusation and give countenance to the conspirators. On the ninth +Thermidor this scheme was to be carried out; on the ninth Thermidor, +Tallien was to thunder forth the accusation against Robespierre and move +his punishment! + +This enterprise, however, seemed a folly, an impossibility, for at this +time Robespierre was at the height of his power, and fear weighed +upon the whole republic as a universal agony. No one dared oppose +Robespierre, for a look from his eye, a sign from his hand sufficed to +bring death, to lead to the scaffold. + +The calm, peaceful, and united republic for which Robespierre had +toiled, which had been the ultimate end of his bloodthirstiness, was at +last there, but this republic was built upon corpses, was baptized with +streams of blood and tears. And now that the republic had given up +all opposition, now that she bowed, trembling under the hand of her +conqueror, now, Robespierre wanted to make her happy, he wanted to give +her what the storms of past years had ravished from her--he wanted +to give the republic a God! On the tribune of the Convention, on this +tribune which was his throne, rose Robespierre, to tell with grave +dignity to the republic that there was a Supreme Being, that the soul of +man was immortal. Then, accompanied by the Convention, he proceeded to +the Champ de Mars, to inaugurate the celebration of the worship of a +Supreme Being as his high-priest. But amid this triumph, on his way +to the Champ de Mars, Robespierre the conqueror had for the first time +noticed the murmurs of the Tarpeian rock; he had noticed the dark, +threatening glances which were directed at him from all sides. He felt +the danger which menaced him, and he was determined to remove it from +his person by annihilating those who threatened. + +But already terror had lost its power, no one trembled before the +guillotine, no one took pleasure in the fall of the axe, in the streams +of blood, which empurpled the Place de la Revolution. The fearful +stillness of death hung round the guillotine, the people were tired +of applauding it, and now and then from the silent ranks of the people +thundered forth in threatening accents the word "tyrant!" which, as the +first weapon of attack, was directed against Robespierre, who, on the +heights of the tribune, was throned with his unmoved, calm countenance. + +Robespierre felt that he must strike a heavy, decisive blow against his +foes and annihilate them. On the eighth Thermidor, he denounced a plot +organized by his enemies for breaking up the Convention. Through St. +Just he implicated as leaders of this conspiracy some eminent members +of the committees, and requested their dismissal. But the time was +past when his motions were received with jubilant acclamations, and +unconditionally obeyed. The Convention decided to submit the motion +of Robespierre to a vote, and the matter was postponed to the next +morning's session. + +In the night which preceded the contemplated action of the Convention, +Robespierre went to the Jacobin Club and requested assistance against +his enemies in the Convention. He was received with enthusiasm, and +a general uprising of the revolutionary element was decided upon, and +organized for the following morning. + +The same night, Tallien, his friends and adherents, met together, and +the mode of attack for the following day, the ninth Thermidor, was +discussed, and the parts assigned to each. + +The prisoners in the Carmelite convent did not of course suspect any +thing of the events which were preparing beyond the walls of their +prison. Even Therese de Fontenay was low-spirited and sad; for this day, +the ninth Thermidor, was the last day of respite fixed by her to Tallien +for her liberty. + +This was also the last day of respite which had saved Josephine from the +tribunal of the revolution, through the decision of her physician. +Death had spared her head, but now it belonged to the executioner. The +captives feared the event, and they were confirmed in this fear by the +jailer, who, on the morning of the ninth Thermidor, entered the room +which Josephine, the Duchess d'Aiguillon, and Therese de Fontenay +occupied, and who removed the camp-bed which Josephine had hitherto used +as a sofa, to give it to another prisoner. + +"How," exclaimed the Duchess d'Aiguillon, "do you want to give this bed +to another prisoner? Is Madame de Beauharnais to have a better one?" + +The turnkey burst into a coarse laugh. "Alas! no," said he, with a +significant gesture, "Citoyenne Beauharnais will soon need a bed no +more." + +Her friends broke into tears; but Josephine remained composed and quite. +At this decisive moment a fearful self-possession and calmness came over +her; all sufferings and sorrow appeared to have sunk away, all anxiety +and care seemed overcome, and a radiant smile illumined Josephine's +features, for, through a wondrous association of ideas, she suddenly +remembered the prophecy of the negro-woman in Martinique. + +"Be calm, my friends," said she, smiling; "weep not, do not consider me +as destined to the scaffold, for I assure you I am going to live: I +must not die, for I am destined to be one day the sovereign of France. +Therefore, no more tears! I am the future Queen of France!" + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Duchess d'Aiguillon, half angry and half sad, "why +not at once appoint your state dignitaries?" + +"You are right," said Josephine, eagerly; "this is the best time to +do so. Well, then, my dear duchess, I now appoint you to be my maid of +honor, and I swear it will be so." + +"My God! she is mad!" exclaimed the duchess, and, nearly fainting, she +sank upon her chair. + +Josephine laughed, and opened the window to admit some fresh air. She +perceived there below in the street a woman making to her all manner of +signs and gestures. She lifted up her arms, she then took hold of her +dress, and with her hand pointed to her robe. + +It was evident that she wished through these signs and motions to convey +some word to the prisoners, whom perhaps she knew, for she repeatedly +took hold of her robe with one hand, and pointed at it with the other. + +"Robe?" cried out Josephine interrogatively. + +The woman nodded in the affirmative, then took up a stone, which she +held up to the prisoner's view. + +"Pierre?" ask Josephine. + +The woman again nodded in the affirmative, and then placed the stone +(pierre) in her robe, made several times the motion of falling, then of +cutting off the neck, and then danced and clapped her hands. + +"My friends," cried Josephine, struck with a sudden thought, "this woman +brings us good news, she tells us Robespierre est tombe." (Robespierre +has fallen.) + +"Yes, it is so," exclaimed Therese, triumphantly; "Tallien has kept his +word; he conquers, and Robespierre is thrust down!" + +And, overpowered with joy and emotion, the three women, weeping, sank +into each other's arms. + +They now heard from without loud cries and shouts. It was the jailer, +quarrelling with his refractory dog. The dog howled, and wanted to go +out with his master, but the jailer kicked him back, saying: "Away, go +to the accursed Robespierre!" + +Soon joyous voices resounded through the corridor; the door of their +cell was violently opened, and a few municipal officers entered to +announce to the Citizeness Madame Fontenay that she was free, and bade +her accompany them into the carriage waiting below to drive her to the +house of Citizen Tallien. Behind them pressed the prisoners who, from +the reception-room, had followed the authorities, to entreat them to +give them the news of the events in Paris. + +There was now no reason for the municipal authorities to make a secret +of the events which at this hour occupied all Paris, and which would +soon be welcomed throughout France as the morning dawn of a new day. + +Robespierre had indeed fallen! Tallien and his friends had in the +Convention brought against the despot the accusation that he was +striving for the sovereign power, and that he had enthroned a Supreme +Being merely to proclaim himself afterward His visible representative, +and to take all power in his own hands. When Robespierre had endeavored +to justify himself, he had been dragged away from the speaker's tribune; +and, as he defended himself, Tallien had drawn a dagger on Robespierre, +and was prevented from killing the tyrant by a few friends, who by +main force turned the dagger away. Immediately after this scene, the +Convention decided to arrest Robespierre and his friends Couthon and St. +Just; and the prisoners, among whom Robespierre's younger brother had +willingly placed himself, were led away to the Luxemburg. [Footnote: +The next day, on the tenth Thermidor, Robespierre, who in the night had +attempted to put an end to his life with a pistol, was executed +with twenty-one companions. His brother was among the number of the +executed.] + +The prisoners welcomed this news with delight; for with the fall of +Robespierre, had probably sounded for them the hour of deliverance, and +they could hope that their prison's door would soon be opened, not to be +led to the scaffold, but to obtain their freedom. + +Therese de Fontenay, with the messengers sent by Tallien, left the +Carmelite cloisters to fulfil the promise made by her to Tallien in +her letter, to become his wife, and to pass at his side new days of +happiness and love. + +She embraced Josephine tenderly as she bade her farewell, and renewed to +her the assurance that she would consider it her dearest and most sacred +duty to obtain her friend's liberty. + +In the evening of the same day, Josephine's camp-bed was restored to +her; and, stretching herself upon it with intense delight, she said +smilingly to her friends: "You see, I am not yet guillotined; I will be +Queen of France." [Footnote: "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine," ch. +xxxiii.] + +Therese de Fontenay, now Citoyenne Tallien, kept her word. Three days +after obtaining her liberty, she came herself to fetch Josephine out +of prison. Her soft, mild disposition had resumed its old spell over +Tallien, whom the Convention had appointed president of the Committee of +Safety. The death-warrants signed by Robespierre were annulled, and the +prisons were opened, to restore to hundreds of accused life and liberty. +The bloody and tearful episode of the revolution had closed with the +fall of Robespierre, and on the ninth Thermidor the republic assumed a +new phase. + +Josephine was free once more! With tears of bliss she embraced her two +children, her dear darlings, found again! In pressing her offspring to +her heart with deep, holy emotion, she thought of their father, who had +loved them both so much, who had committed to her the sacred trust of +keeping alive in the hearts of his children love for their father. + +Encircling still her children in her arms, she bowed them on their +knees; and, lifting up to heaven her eyes, moist with tears, she +whispered to them: "Let us pray, children; let us lift up our thoughts +to heaven, where your father is, and whence he looks down upon us to +bless his children." + +Josephine delayed not much longer in Paris, where the air was yet damp +with the blood of so many murdered ones; where the guillotine, on which +her husband had died, lifted yet its threatening head. She hastened with +her children to Fontainebleau, there to rest from her sorrows on the +heart of her father-in-law, to weep with him on the loss they both had +suffered. + +The dream of her first youth and of her first love had passed away, and +to the father of her beheaded husband Josephine returned a widow; rich +in gloomy, painful experiences, poor in hopes, but with a stout heart, +and a determination to live, and to be at once a father and a mother to +her children. + + + + +BOOK II. THE WIFE OF GENERAL BONAPARTE. + + +CHAPTER XVI. BONAPARTE IN CORSICA. + + +The civil war which for four years had devastated France had also with +its destruction and its terrors overspread the French colonies, and in +Martinique as well as in Corsica two parties stood opposed to each other +in infuriated bitterness--one fighting for the rights of the native +land, the other for the rights of the French people, for the "liberty, +equality, and fraternity" which the Convention in Paris had adopted +for its motto, since it delivered to the guillotine, on the Place de +la Revolution, the heads of those who dared lay claim for themselves to +this liberty of thought so solemnly proclaimed. + +In Corsica both parties fought with the same eagerness as in France, and +the execution of Louis XVI. had only made the contest more violent and +more bitter. + +One of these parties looked with horror on this guillotine which had +drunk the blood of the king, and this party desired to have nothing in +common with this French republic, with this blood-streaming Convention +which had made of terror a law, and which had destroyed so many lives in +the name of liberty. + +At the head of this party stood the General Pascal Paoli, whom the +revolution had recalled to his native isle from his exile of twenty +years, and who objected that Corsica should bend obediently under the +blood-stained hand of the French Convention, and whose wish it was that +the isle should be an independent province of the great French republic. + +To exalt Corsica into a free, independent republic had been the idea of +his whole life. For the sake of this idea he had passed twenty years in +exile; for, after having made Corsica independent of Genoa, he had not +been able to obtain for his native isle that independence for which +he had fought with his brave Genoese troops. During eight years he had +perseveringly maintained the conflict--during eight years he had been +the ruler of Corsica, but immovable in his republican principles; he had +rejected the title of king, which the Corsican people, grateful for +the services rendered to their fatherland, had offered him. He had been +satisfied to be the first and most zealous servant of the island, which, +through his efforts, had been liberated from the tyrannical dominion of +Genoa. But Genoa's appeal for assistance had brought French troops to +Corsica; the Genoese, harassed and defeated everywhere by Paoli's brave +troops, had finally transferred the island to France. This was not what +Paoli wanted--this was not for what he had fought! + +Corsica was to be a free and independent republic; she was to bow no +more to France than to Genoa; Corsica was to be free. + +In vain did the French government make to General Paoli the most +brilliant offers; he rejected them; he called the Corsicans to the most +energetic resistance to the French occupation; and when he saw that +opposition was in vain, that Corsica had to submit, he at least would +not yield, and he went to England. + +The cry for liberty which, in the year 1790, resounded from France, and +which made the whole world tremble, brought him back from England to +Corsica, and he took the oath of allegiance to free, democratic France. +But the blood of the king had annulled this oath, the Convention's +reign of terror had filled his soul with horror; and, after solemnly +separating himself from France, he had, in the year 1793, convoked a +Consulta, to decide whether Corsica was to submit to the despotism of +the French republic, or if it was to be a free and independent state. +The Consulta chose the latter position, and named Paoli for president as +well as for general-in-chief of the Corsicans. + +The National Convention at once called the culprit to its bar, +and ordered him to Paris to justify his conduct, or to receive the +punishment due. But General Paoli paid no attention to the imperious +orders of the Convention, which, as the chief appeared not at its bar, +declared him, on the 15th of May, 1793, a traitor to his country, and +sent commissioners to Corsica to arrest the criminal. + +This traitor to the state, the General Pascal Paoli, was then at the +head of the Moderate party in Corsica, and he loudly and solemnly +declared that, in case of absolute necessity, it would be preferable to +call England to their assistance than to accept the yoke of the French +republic, which had desecrated her liberty, since she had soiled it with +the blood of so many innocent victims. + +But in opposition to General Paoli rose up with wild clamor the other +party, the party of young, enthusiastic heads, who were intoxicated with +the democratic ideas which had obtained the sway in France, and which +they imagined, so great was their impassioned devotedness to them, +possessed the power and the ability to conquer the whole world. + +At the head of this second party, which claimed unconditional adherence +to France, to the members of the Convention--at the head of this +fanatical, Corsican, republican, and Jacobin party, stood the Bonaparte +family, and above them all the two brothers Joseph and Napoleon. + +Joseph was now, in the year 1793, chief justice of the tribunal of +Ajaccio; Napoleon, who was captain of artillery in the French army of +Italy, had then obtained leave of absence to visit his family. Both +brothers had been hitherto the most affectionate and intimate admirers +of Paoli, and especially Napoleon, who, from his earliest childhood, had +cherished the most unbounded admiration for the patriot who preferred +exile to a dependent grandeur in Corsica. Even now, since Paoli's return +to Corsica, and Napoleon had had many opportunities to see him, his +admiration for the great chief had lost nothing of its force or +vitality. Paoli seemed sincerely to return this inclination of Napoleon +and of his brother, and in the long evening walks, which both +brothers made with him, Napoleon's mind opened itself, before his old, +experienced companion, the great general, the noble republican, with +a freedom and a candor such as he had never manifested to others. With +subdued admiration Paoli listened to his short, energetic explanations, +to his descriptions, to his war-schemes, to his warm enthusiasm for the +republic; and one day, carried away by the warmth of the young captain +of artillery, the general, fixing his glowing eyes upon him, exclaimed: +"Young man, you are modelled after the antique; you belong to Plutarch!" + +"And to General Paoli!" replied Napoleon, eagerly, as he pressed his +friend's hand affectionately in his own. + +But now this harmonious concord between General Paoli and the young men +was destroyed by the passion of party views. Joseph as well as Napoleon +belonged to the French party; they soon became its leaders; they were +at the head of the club which they had organized according to the maxims +and principles of the Jacobin Club in Paris, and to which they gave the +same name. + +In this Jacobin Club at Ajaccio Napoleon made speeches full of glowing +enthusiasm for the French republic, for the ideas of freedom; in this +club he enjoined on the people of Corsica to adhere loyally to France, +to keep fast and to defend with life and blood the acquired liberty of +republican France, to regard and drive away as traitors to their country +all those who dared guide the Corsican people on another track. + +But the Corsican people were not there to hear the enthusiastic speeches +about liberty and to follow them. Only a few hundred ardent republicans +of the same sentiment applauded the republican Napoleon, and cried aloud +that the republic must be defended with blood and life. The majority of +the Corsican people flocked to Paoli, and the commissioners sent by +the Convention from Paris to Corsica, to depose and arrest Paoli, found +co-operation and assistance only among the inhabitants of the cities +and among the French troops. Paoli, the president of the Consulta, was +located at Corte; the messengers of the Convention gathered in Bastia +the adherents of France, and excited them to strenuous efforts against +the rebellious Consulta and the insurgent Paoli. Civil war with all its horrors was there; the raging conflicts of the +parties tore apart the holy bonds of family, friendship, and love. +Brother fought and argued against brother, friend rose up against +friend, and whole families were destroyed, rent asunder by the +impassioned rivalries of sentiment and partisanship. Denunciations and +accusations, suspicions and enmities, followed. Every one trembled at +his own shadow; and, to turn aside the peril of death, it was necessary +to strike. [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 51.] + +The Bonaparte brothers opposed General Paoli with violent bitterness; +bloody conflicts took place, in which the national Corsican party +remained victorious. Irritated and embittered by the opposition which +some of the natives themselves were making to his patriotic efforts, +Paoli persecuted with zealous activity the conquered, whom he resolved +to destroy, that they might not imperil the young Corsican independence. +Joseph and Napoleon Bonaparte were the leaders of this party, and Paoli +knew too well the energy and the intellectual superiority of Napoleon +not to dread his influence. Him, above all things, him and his family, +must he render harmless, so as to weaken and to intimidate the French +party. He sent agents to Ajaccio, to arrest the whole Bonaparte family, +and at the same time his troops approached the town to occupy it and +make the French commissioners prisoners. But these latter, informed in +time of the danger, had gained time and saved themselves on board the +French frigate lying in the harbor, and with them the whole Bonaparte +family had embarked. Napoleon, on whom the attention of Paoli's agents +had been specially directed, was more than once in danger of being +seized by them, and it was due to the advice of a friend that, disguised +as a sailor, he saved himself in time on board the French frigate and +joined his family. [Footnote: "Memoires de la Duchess d'Abrantes," vol. +i.] The commissioners of the Convention at once ordered the anchor to be +weighed, and to steer toward France. + +This frigate, on board of which the Bonaparte family in its flight had +embarked, carried to France the future emperor and his fortune. + +The house, the possessions of the Bonaparte family, fell a prey to +the conquerors, and on them they gave vent to their vengeance for +the successful escape of the fugitives. A witness of these facts is +a certificate which Joseph Bonaparte a few months later procured from +Corsica, and which ran as follows: + +"I, the undersigned, Louis Conti, procurator-syndic of the district of +Ajaccio, department of Corsica, declare and certify: in the month of +May of this year, when General Paoli and the administration of the +department had sent into the city of Ajaccio armed troops, in concert +with other traitors in the city, took possession of the fortress, drove +away the administration of the district, incarcerated a large portion of +the patriots, disarmed the republican forces, and, when these refused +to give up the commissioners of the National Convention, Paoli's troops +fired upon the vessel which carried these commissioners: + +"That these rebels endeavored to seize the Bonaparte family, which had +the good fortune to elude their pursuit: + +"That they destroyed, plundered, and burnt everything which belonged to +this family, whose sole crime consisted in their unswerving fidelity to +the republicans, and in their refusal to take any part in the scheme +of isolation, rebellion, and disloyalty, of which Paoli and the +administration of the department had become guilty. + +"I moreover declare and certify that this family, consisting of ten +individuals, and who stood high in the esteem of the people of the +island, possessed the largest property in the whole department, and that +now they are on the continent of the republic. + +"(Signed) CONTI, Proc.-Synd. Delivered on the 5th of September, 1793, +Year II. of the republic." [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., +p. 52.] + +Paoli, the conqueror of the French republic, the patriotic enemy of the +Bonaparte family, drove Napoleon Bonaparte from his native soil! The +cannon of the Corsican patriots fired upon the ship on which the future +emperor of the French was steering toward his future empire! + +But this future lay still in an invisible, cloudy distance--of one +thing, however, was the young captain of artillery fully conscious: +from this hour he had broken with the past, and, by his dangers and +conflicts, by the sacrifice of his family's property, by his flight from +Corsica, given to the world a solemn testimony that he recognized +no other country, that he owed allegiance to no other nation than to +France. He had proved that his feelings were not Corsican, but French. + +The days of his childhood and youth sank away behind him, with the +deepening shadows of the island of Corsica, and the shores which rose +before him on the horizon were the shores of France. There lay his +future--his empire! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE BEFORE TOULON. + + +Whilst Paris, yet trembling, bowed under the bloody rule of the +Convention, a spirit of opposition and horror began to stir in the +provinces; fear of the terrorists, of the Convention, began to kindle +the courage, to make defiance to these men of horror, and to put an end +to terrorism. The province of Vendee, in her faithfulness and loyalty to +the royal family, arose in deadly conflict against the republicans; +the large cities of the south, with Toulon at their head, had shielded +themselves from the horrors which the home government would have brought +them, by uniting with the enemies who now from all sides pressed upon +France. + +Toulon gave itself up to the combined fleet of England and Spain. +Marseilles, Lyons, and Nismes, contracted an alliance together, and +declared their independence of the Convention and of the terrorists. +Everywhere in all the cities and communities of the south the people +rose up, and seditions and rebellions took place. Everywhere the +Convention had to send its troops to re-establish peace by force, and +to compel the people to submit to its rule. Whole army corps had to be +raised to win back to the republic the rebellious cities, and only after +hard fighting did General Carteaux subdue Marseilles. + +But Toulon held out still, and within its protecting walls had the +majority of the inhabitants of Marseilles taken refuge before the wrath +of the Convention, which had already sent to the latter some of +its representatives, to establish there the destructive work of the +guillotine. Toulon offered them safety; it seemed impregnable, as much +by its situation as by the number and strength of its defenders. It +could also defy any siege, since the sea was open, and it could by this +channel be provisioned through the English and Spanish fleet. + +No one trembled before the little army of seventeen thousand men which, +under General Carteaux, had invested Toulon. + +But in this little army of the republicans was a young soldier whom yet +none knew, none feared, but whose fame was soon to resound throughout +the world, and before whom all Europe was soon tremblingly to bow. + +This young man was Napoleon Bonaparte, the captain of artillery. He had +come from Italy (where his regiment was) to France, to make there, by +order of his general, some purchases for the park of artillery of +the Italian army. But some of the people's representatives had had an +opportunity of recognizing the sharp eye and the military acquirements +of the young captain of artillery; they interceded in his favor, and he +was promoted to the army corps which was before Toulon, and at once sent +in the capacity of assistant to General Carteaux, with whom also was +Napoleon's brother Joseph, as chief of the general's staff. + +From this moment the siege, which until now had not progressed +favorably, was pushed on with renewed energy, and it was due to the +cautious activity, the daring spirit of the captain of artillery, that +marked advantages were gained over the English, and that from them many +redoubts were taken, and the lines of the French drawn closer and closer +to the besieged city. + +But yet, after many months of siege, Toulon held out still. From the +sea came provisions and ammunition, and on the land-side Toulon was +protected against capture by a fort occupied by English troops, and +which, on account of its impregnable position, was called "Little +Gibraltar." From this position hot-balls and howitzers had free range +all over the seaboard, for this fort stood between the two harbors +of the city and immediately opposite Toulon. The English, fully +appreciating the importance of the position, had occupied it with six +thousand men, and surrounded it with intrenchments. + +It came to this, as Napoleon in a council of war declared to the +general, that the English must be driven out of their position; then, +when this fort was taken, in two days Toulon must yield. + +The plan was decided upon, and from this moment the besiegers directed +all their strength no more against Toulon, but against the important +fort, "Little Gibraltar," "for there," as Napoleon said, "there was the +key to Toulon." + +All Europe now watched with intense anxiety the events near Toulon; all +France, which hitherto with divided sentiments had wished the victory +to side now with the besieged, now with the besiegers, forgot its +differences of opinion, and was united in the one wish to expel the +hated enemy and rival, the English, from the French city, and to crown +the efforts of the French army with victory. + +The Convention, irritated that its orders should not have been +immediately carried out, had in its despotic power recalled from his +command General Carteaux, who could not succeed in capturing Toulon, +and had appointed as chief of battalion the young captain of artillery, +Napoleon Bonaparte, on account of his bravery in capturing some +dangerous redoubts. The successor of Carteaux, the old General +Dugommier, recognizing the superior mind of the young chief of +battalion, willingly followed his plans, and was readily guided and led +by the surer insight of the young man. + +The position of new Gibraltar had to be conquered so as to secure the +fall of Toulon; such was, such remained Napoleon's unswerving judgment. +No effort, no cost, no blood, was to be spared to attain this result. He +placed new batteries against the fort; stormed the forts Malbosquet and +Ronge; a terrible struggle ensued, in which the English General O'Hara +was taken prisoner by the French, and the English had to leave the fort +and retreat into the city. + +The first great advantage was won, but Little Gibraltar remained still +in the hands of the English, and Napoleon desired, and felt it as an +obligation, to subdue it at any price. + +But already the Convention began to be discouraged, and to lose energy, +and the deputies of the people, Barras and Freron, who until now had +remained with the besieging army, hastened to Paris to implore the +Convention to give up the siege, and to recall the army from Toulon. + +But before they reached Paris the matter was to be decided before +Toulon. The fate of the Little Gibraltar was to be fulfilled; it was to +be taken, or in the storming of it the French army was to perish. + +Thousands of shells were thrown into the fort, thirty cannon thundered +against it. Napoleon Bonaparte mixed with the artillerymen, encouraged +by his bold words their activity, their energy, and their bravery, and +pointed to them the spots where to direct their balls. Whilst he was +in conversation with one of the cannoneers near whom he stood, a +cannon-ball from the English tore away the head of the artilleryman who +had just lifted up the match to fire his cannon. + +Napoleon quietly took up the burning match out of the hand of the dead +man, and discharged the gun. Then, with all the zeal and tact of an +experienced cannoneer, he began to load the piece, to send forth its +balls against the enemy and for many hours he remained at this post, +until another artilleryman was found to relieve the chief of division. +[Footnote: This brave action of Napoleon was to have for him evil +results. The cannoneer, from whose hand he took the match, was suffering +from the most distressing skin-disease, generally breaking out with the +greatest violence in the hand. The match which the cannoneer had for +hours held in his hand was yet warm with its pressure, and imparted to +Napoleon's hand the poison of the contagious disease. For years he had +to endure the eruption, which he could not conquer, as he had conquered +nations and princes, but to its destructive and painful power he had +to subdue his body. The nervous agitations to which he was subject, the +shrugging of his right shoulder, the white-greenish complexion of his +face, the leanness of his body, were all consequences of this disease. +It was only when Napoleon had become emperor, that Corvisart succeeded, +by his eloquence, in persuading him to follow a regular course of +treatment. This treatment cured him; his white-greenish complexion and +his leanness disappeared. The nervous movement of the shoulder remained, +and became a habit.--See "Memoires de Constant," vol. i.] + +But whilst Napoleon made himself a cannoneer in the service of his +country, he remained at the same time the chief of division, whose +attention was everywhere, whose eagle glance nothing escaped, and who +knew how to improve every advantage. + +A body of troops was at a distant point, and Bonaparte wanted to send +them an important order. Whilst loading his cannon, he called aloud +to an under-officer to whom he might dictate the dispatch. A young man +hastened to the call, and said he was ready to write. Upon a mound of +sand he unfolded his pocket-book, drew out of it a piece of paper, and +began to write what Napoleon, with a voice above the cannon's roar, +was dictating to him. At this very moment, as the order was written, +a cannon-ball fell quite near the officer, burrowing the ground, and +scattering some of the light sand over the written paper. The young man +raised his hat and made a bow to the cannon-ball, that buried itself in +the sand. + +"I thank you," said he, "you have saved me sand for my paper." + +Napoleon smiled, and looked with a joyous, sympathizing glance at the +young officer, whose handsome pleasing countenance was radiant with bold +daring and harmless merriment. + +"Now, I need a brave messenger to carry this order to that exposed +detachment," said Napoleon. + +"I will be the messenger," cried out the officer, eagerly. + +"Well, I accept you, but you must remove your uniform, and put on a +blouse, so as not to be too much exposed." + +"That I will not do," exclaimed the young man. "I am no spy." + +"What! you refuse to obey?" asked Napoleon, threateningly. + +"No, I refuse to assume a disguise," answered the officer "I am ready to +obey, and even to carry the order into the very hands of the devil. +But with my uniform I go, otherwise those cursed Englishmen might well +imagine that I am afraid of them." + +"But you imperil your life if you go in your glittering uniform." + +"My life does not belong to me," cried out gayly the young soldier. "Who +cares if I risk it? You will not be sorry about it, for you know me +not, citizen-officer, and it is all the same to me. Shall I not go in +my uniform? I should be delighted to encounter those English gentlemen, +for, with my sword and the sprightly grains in my patron's pocket, +the conversation will not sleep, I vow. Now, then, shall I go, +citizen-officer?" + +"Go," said Napoleon, smiling. "But you are wrong if you think I will +not be sorry in case you pay this duty with your life. You are a brave +fellow, and I love the brave. Go; but first tell me your name, that when +you return I may tell General Dugommier what name he has to inscribe in +his papers of recommendation for officers; that will be the reward for +your message." + +"My name is Junot, citizen-officer," exclaimed the young man as, +swinging the paper in his hand, he darted away eagerly. + +The roar of the cannon was still heard, when Napoleon's messenger +returned, after a few hours, and reported to him. The chief of division +received him with a friendly motion of his head. + +"Welcome, Junot," said he. "I am glad to see you back, and that you +have successfully accomplished your task. I must now make a change of +position in yonder battallion. To-morrow I will give you your commission +of lieutenant, citizen-soldier." + +"And to-day grant me a nobler reward, citizen-officer," said the young +man, tenderly; "give me your hand, and allow me to press it in mine." + +Napoleon, smiling, gave him his hand. The eyes of both young men met in +radiant looks, and with these looks was sealed the covenant which united +them both in a friendship enduring to the tomb. For not one of his +companions-in-arms remained attached to Napoleon with so warm, true, +nearly impassioned tenderness as Junot, and none of them was by the +general, the consul, the emperor, more implicitly trusted, more heartily +beloved than his Junot, whom he exalted to the ranks of general, +governor of Lisbon, Duke d'Abrantes, who was one of the few to whom +in his days of glory he allowed to speak to him in all truth, in all +freedom, and without reserve. + +But whilst the two young men were sealing this covenant of friendship +with this look of spiritual recognition, the cannon was thundering forth +on all sides. The earth trembled from the reports of the pieces; all the +elements seemed unloosed; the storm howled as if to mingle the noise +of human strife with the uproar of Nature; the sea dashed its frothy, +mound-like waves with terrible noise on the shore; the rain poured down +from the skies in immense torrents, and everything around was veiled in +mists of dampness and smoke. And amid all this, crackled, thundered, +and hissed the shells which were directed against Little Gibraltar, or +whizzed from Toulon, to bring death and destruction among the besiegers. + +Night sank down, and yet Little Gibraltar was not taken. "I am lost," +sighed General Dugommier. "I shall have to pay with my head, if we are +forced to retreat." + +"Then we must go forward," cried Bonaparte; "we must have Little +Gibraltar." + +An hour after, a loud cry of victory announced to General Dugommier that +the chief of division had reached his aim, that Little Gibraltar was +captured by the French. + +As the day began to dawn, the French had already captured two other +forts; and Bonaparte roused all his energies to fire from Little +Gibraltar upon the enemy's fleet. But the English admiral, Lord Hood, +knew very well the terrible danger to which he was exposed if he did not +at once weigh anchor. + +The chief of division had prophesied correctly: in Little Gibraltar was +the key of Toulon; and since the French had now seized the keys, the +English ships could no longer close the city against them. Toulon was +lost--it had to surrender to the conquerors. [Footnote: Toulon fell on +the 18th of December, 1793.] + +It is true, defensive operations were still carried on, but Napoleon's +balls scattered death and ruin into the city; the bursting of shells +brought destruction and suffering everywhere, and in the city as well as +in the harbor columns of flames arose from houses and ships. + +Toulon was subdued; and the chief of division, Napoleon Bonaparte, had +achieved his first brilliant pass of arms before jubilant France and +astonished Europe; he had made his name shine out from the obscurity of +the past, and placed it on the pages of history. + +The Convention showed itself thankful to the daring soldier, who had +won such a brilliant victory alike over the foreign as well as over the +internal enemies of the republic; and Napoleon Bonaparte, the chief of +division, was now promoted to the generalship of division. + +He accepted the nomination with a quiet smile. The wondrous brilliancy +of his eyes betrayed only to a few friends and confidants the important +resolves and thoughts which moved the soul of the young general. + +In virtue of the order of the Convention, the newly-appointed General +Bonaparte was to go to the army of the republic which was now stationed +in Italy; and he received secret instructions from the Directory +concerning Genoa. Bonaparte left Paris, to gather, as he hoped, fresh +laurels and new victories. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. BONAPARTE'S IMPRISONMENT. + + +On the 25th day of March, 1794. General Bonaparte entered the +headquarters of the French army in Nice. He was welcomed with joy and +marks of distinction, for the fame of his heroic deeds before Toulon +had preceded him; and on Bonaparte's pale, proud face, with its dark, +brilliant eyes, was written that he was now come into Italy to add fresh +laurels to the victor's crown won before Toulon. + +The old commander-in-chief of the French army, General Dumerbion, +confined oftentimes to his bed through sickness, was very willing to be +represented by General Bonaparte, and to place every thing in his hands; +and the two representatives of the people, Ricord and Robespierre (the +younger brother of the all-powerful dictator)--these two representatives +in the army corps of Italy bound themselves in intimate friendship with +the young general, who seemed to share their glowing enthusiasm for the +republic, and their hatred against the monarchy and the aristocrats. +They cherished, moreover, an unreserved confidence in the military +capacities of young Bonaparte, and always gave to his plans their +unconditional assent and approbation. Upon Napoleon's suggestion +batteries were erected on the coast of Provence for the security of the +fleet and of trading-vessels; and when this had been accomplished, +the general began to carry out the plan which he had laid before the +representatives of the republic, and according to which the republican +army, with its right and left wings advancing simultaneously on the +sea-coast, was to march through the neutral territory of Genoa into +Italy. + +This plan of Bonaparte was crowned with the most unexpected success. +Without observing the neutrality of Genoa, Generals Massena and Arena +marched through the territory of the proud Italian republic, and thus +began the bloody war which was to desolate the Italian soil for so many +years. + +Ever faithful to Bonaparte's war-schemes, which the general-in-chief, +Dumerbion, and the two representatives of the people, Ricord and +Robespierre, had sanctioned, the French columns moved from the valleys, +within whose depths they had so long and so uselessly shed their +blood, up to the heights and conquered the fortresses which the King of +Sardinia had built on the mountains for the protection of his frontiers. +Thus Fort Mirabocco, on the pass of the Cross, fell into the hands of +General Dumas, who then conquered the intrenched Mount Cenis; thus the +pass of Tenda, with the fortress Saorgio, was captured by the French; +and there, in the general depot of the Piedmontese army, they found +sixty cannon and war materials of all kinds. + +The French had celebrated their first victories in Italy, and both +commanding officers of the fortresses of Mirabocco and Saorgio had to +pay for these triumphs in Turin with the loss of their lives; whilst +General Bonaparte, "as the one to whose well-matured plans and +arrangements these brilliant results were due," received from the +Convention brilliant encomiums. + +But suddenly the state of affairs assumed another shape, and at one blow +all the hopes and plans of the young, victorious general were destroyed. + +Maximilian Robespierre had fallen; with him fell the whole party; then +fell his brother, who a short time before had returned to Paris, and had +there endeavored to obtain from Maximilian new and more ample powers +for Bonaparte, and even the appointment to the chief command of the +army--there fell also Ricord, who had given to General Bonaparte the +letter of secret instructions for energetic negotiations with the +government of Genoa, and to carry out which instructions Bonaparte had +at this time gone to that city. + +As he was returning to his headquarters in Saona, from Paris had arrived +the new representatives, who came to the army of Italy as delegates of +the Convention, and were armed with full powers. + +These representatives were Salicetti, Albitte, and Laporte. The first of +these, a countryman of Bonaparte, had been thus far his friend and his +party associate. He was in Corsica at the same time as Napoleon, in the +year 1793; he had been, like his young friend, a member of the Jacobin +Club of Ajaccio, and Salicetti's speeches had not been inferior to those +of Napoleon, either in wildness or in exalted republicanism. + +But now Salicetti had become the representative of the moderate party; +and it was highly important for him to establish himself securely in his +new position, and to give to the Convention a proof of the firmness +of his sentiments by manifesting the hatred which he had sworn to the +terrorists, and to all those who, under the fallen regime, had obtained +recognition and distinction. + +General Bonaparte had been a friend of the young Robespierre; loudly and +openly he had expressed his republican and democratic sentiments; he +had been advanced under the administration of Robespierre, from +simple lieutenant to general; he had been sent to Genoa, with secret +instructions by the representatives of the Committee of Safety, made up +of terrorists--all this was sufficient to make him appear suspicious +to the moderate party, and to furnish Salicetti an opportunity to show +himself a faithful partisan of the new system of moderation. + +General Bonaparte was, by order of the representatives of the people, +Salicetti and Albitte, arrested at his headquarters in Saona, because, +as the warrant for arrest, signed by both representatives, asserted: +"General Bonaparte had completely lost their confidence through his +suspicious demeanor, and especially through the journey which he had +lately made to Genoa." The warrant of arrest furthermore ordered +that General Bonaparte, whose effects should be sealed and his papers +examined, was to be sent to Paris, under sure escort, and be brought for +examination before the Committee of Safety. + +If this order were carried into execution, then Bonaparte was lost; for, +though Robespierre had fallen, yet with his fall the system of blood and +terror had not been overthrown in Paris; it had only changed its name. + +The terrorists, who now called themselves the moderates, exercised the +same system of intimidation as their predecessors; and to be brought +before the Committee of Safety, signified the same thing as to receive a +death-warrant. + +Bonaparte was lost, if it truly came to this, that he must be led to +Paris. + +This was what Junot, the present adjutant of Napoleon, and his faithful +friend and companion, feared. It was therefore necessary to anticipate +this order, and to procure freedom to Bonaparte. + +A thousand schemes for the rescue of his beloved chief, crossed the soul +of the young man. But how make them known to the general? how induce +him to flee, since all approaches to him were forbidden? His zeal, his +inventive friendship, succeeded at last in finding a means. One of the +soldiers, who was placed as sentry at the door of the arrested general, +was bribed by Junot; through him a letter from Junot reached Bonaparte's +hands, which laid before him a scheme of flight that the next night +could be accomplished with Junot's help. + +Not far from Bonaparte's dwelling Junot awaited the answer, and soon a +soldier passed by and brought it to him. + +This answer ran thus: "In the propositions you make, I acknowledge your +deep friendship, my dear Junot; you are also conscious of the friendship +I have consecrated to you for a long time, and I trust you have +confidence in it. + +"Man may do wrong toward me, my dear Junot; it is enough for me to be +innocent; my conscience is the tribunal which I recognize as sole judge +of my conduct. + +"This conscience is quiet when I question it; do, therefore, nothing, +if you do not wish to compromise me. Adieu, dear Junot. Farewell, and +friendship." [Footnote: Abrantes, "Memoires," vol. i., p. 241.] + +Meanwhile, notwithstanding his quiet conscience, Bonaparte was not +willing to meet his fate passively and silently, and, perchance, it +seemed to him that it was "not enough to be innocent," so as to be +saved from the guillotine. He therefore addressed a protest to both +representatives of the people who had ordered his arrest, and this +protest, which he dictated to his friend Junot, who had finally +succeeded in coming to Bonaparte, is so extraordinary and so peculiar +in its terseness of style, in its expressions of political sentiment; it +furnishes so important a testimony of the republican democratic opinions +of the young twenty-six-year-old general, that we cannot but give here +this document. + +Bonaparte then dictated to his friend Junot as follows: + +"To the representatives Salicetti and Albitte: + +"You have deprived me of my functions, you have arrested me and declared +me suspected. + +"I am, then, ruined without being condemned; or else, which is much more +correct, I am condemned without being heard. + +"In a revolutionary state exist two classes: the suspected and the +patriots. + +"When those of the first class are accused, they are treated as the +common law of safety provides. + +"The oppression of those of the second class is the ruin of public +liberty. The judge must condemn only after mature deliberation, and when +a series of unimpeachable facts reaches the guilty. + +"To denounce a patriot as guilty is a condemnation which deprives him of +what is most dear--confidence and esteem. + +"In which class am I to be ranked? + +"Have I not been, since the beginning of the revolution, faithful to its +principles? + +"Have I not always been seen at war with enemies at home, or as a +soldier against the foreign foe? + +"I have sacrificed my residence in my country and my property to the +republic; I have lost all for her. + +"By serving my country with some distinction at Toulon and in the +Italian army, I have had my share in the laurels which that army has won +at Saorgio, Queille, and Tanaro. + +"At the time of the discovery of Robespierre's conspiracy, my conduct +was that of a man who is accustomed to recognize principles only. + +"It is therefore impossible to refuse me the title of patriot. + +"Why, then, am I declared suspect without being heard? Why am I arrested +eight days after the news of the death of the tyrant? + +"I am declared suspect, and my papers are sealed! + +"The reverse ought to have taken place: my papers ought to have been +unsealed; I ought to have been tried; explanations ought to have been +sought for, and then I might have been declared suspect if there were +sufficient motives for it. + +"It is decided that I must go to Paris under a warrant of arrest +which declares me suspect. In Paris they will conclude that the +representatives have acted thus only after sufficient examination, and I +shall be condemned with the sympathy which a man of that class deserves. + +"Innocent, patriotic, slandered, whatever may be the measures which the +committee take, I cannot complain. + +"If three men were to declare that I have committed a crime, I could not +complain if the jury should declare me guilty. + +"Salicetti, you know me. Have you, during the five years of our +acquaintance, found in my conduct any thing which could be suspected as +against the revolution? + +"Albitte, you know me not. No one can have given you convincing +evidence against me. You have not heard me; you know, however, with what +smoothness calumny oftentimes whispers. + +"Must I then be taken for an enemy of my country? Must the patriots +ruin, without any regard, a general who has not been entirely useless +to the republic? Must the representatives place the government under the +necessity of acting unjustly and impolitically? + +"Mark my words; destroy the oppression which binds me down, and +re-establish me in the esteem of the patriots. + +"If, then, at some future hour, the wicked shall still long for my +life, well, then I consider it of so little importance--I have so often +despised it--yes, the mere thought that it can be useful to the country, +enables me to bear its burden with courage." [Footnote: Bourienne, +"Memoires sur Napoleon," etc., vol. i., p. 63.] + +Whether these energetic protestations of Bonaparte, or whether some +other motives, conduced to the result, Salicetti thought that with +Napoleon's arrest he had furnished sufficient proof of his patriotic +sentiments; it seemed to him enough to have obscured the growing fame +of the young general, and to have plunged back into obscurity and +forgetfulness him whose first steps in life's career promised such a +radiant and glorious course! + +It matters not, however, what circumstances may have wrought out; the +representatives Salicetti and Albitte issued a decree in virtue of +which General Bonaparte was, after mature consideration and thorough +examination of his papers, declared innocent and free from all +suspicion. Consequently, Bonaparte was temporarily set at liberty; but +he was suspended from his command in the Italian army, and was recalled +to Paris, there to be made acquainted with his future destination. + +This destination was pointed out to him in a commission as +brigadier-general of infantry in the province of Vendee, there to lead +on the fratricidal strife against the fanatical Chouans, the faithful +adherents of the king. + +Bonaparte refused this offer--first, because it seemed to him an +insulting request to ask him to fight against his own countrymen; and +secondly, because he did not wish to enter the infantry service, but to +remain in the artillery. + +The Committee of Safety responded to this refusal of Bonaparte by +striking his name from the list of generals appointed for promotion, +because he had declined to go to the post assigned him. + +This decision fell upon the ambitious, heroic young man like a +thunderbolt. He had dreamed of brilliant war deeds, of laurels, of fame, +of a glorious future, won for him by his own sword; and now, all at +once, he saw himself dragged away from this luminous track of fame upon +which he had so brilliantly entered--he saw himself thrust back into +obscurity, forgetfulness, and inactivity. + +A gloomy, misanthropic sentiment took possession of him; and, though a +prophetic voice within said that the future still belonged to him, with +its fame, its laurels, its victories, yet inactivity, care, and the +wants of the present, hung with oppressive weight upon his mind. + +He withdrew from all social joys and recreations, he avoided his +acquaintances, and only to a few friends did he open his foreboding +heart; only with these did he associate, and to them alone he made his +complaints of broken hopes, of life's career destroyed. + +To these few friends, whom Bonaparte in his misfortune found faithful +and unchanged, belonged the Ferment family, and above all belonged +Junot, who had come to Paris at the same time as Bonaparte, and who, +though the latter was dismissed from the service, continued to call +himself the adjutant of General Bonaparte. + +In the Permont family Napoleon was received with the same friendship and +attention as in former days; Madame de Permont retained ever for the son +of the friend of her youth, Letitia, a kindly smile, a genial sympathy, +an intelligent appreciation of his plans and wishes; her husband +manifested toward him all the interest of a parental regard; her son +Albert was full of tenderness and admiration for him; and her younger +daughter Laura jested and conversed with him as with a beloved brother. + +In this house every thing seemed pleasant and friendly to Bonaparte; +thither he came every day, and mixed with the social circles, which +gathered in the evening in the drawing-rooms of the beautiful, witty +Madame de Permont; and where men even of diverging political sentiments, +aristocrats and ci-devants of the first water, were to be found. But +Madame de Permont had forbidden all political discussion in her saloon; +and General Bonaparte, now compelled to inactivity, dared no more show +his anger against the Committee of Safety, or against the Convention, +than the Count de Montmorency or any of the proud ladies of the former +quarter of St. Germain. + +Not only the inactivity to which he was condemned, not only the +destruction of all his ambitious hopes, burdened the mind of Bonaparte, +but also the material pressure under which he now and then found +himself, and which seemed to him a shame and a humiliation. With gloomy +grudge he gazed at those young elegants whom he met on the Boulevards +in splendid toilet, on superb horses--at these incroyables who, in the +first rays of the sun of peace, from the soil of the republic, yet moist +with blood, had sprung up as so many mushrooms of divers colors and +varied hues. + +"And such men enjoy their happiness!" exclaimed Bonaparte, +contemptuously, as once in the Champs Elysees he sat before a +coffee-house, near one of those incroyables, and with violent emotion +starting up, he pushed his seat back and nearly broke the feet of his +exquisitely dressed neighbor. + +To be forgotten, to be set in the background, to be limited in means, +was always to him a source of anger, which manifested itself now in +impassioned vehemence, now in vague, gloomy dreaminess, from which +he would rise up again with some violent sarcasm or some epigrammatic +remark. + +But whilst he thus suffered, was in want, and had so much to endure, his +mind and heart were always busy. His mind was framing new plans to +bring to an end these days of inactivity, to open a new path of fame and +glory; his heart dreamed of a sweet bliss, of another new love! + +The object of this love was the sister of his brother's wife, the +young Desiree Clary. Joseph Bonaparte, who was now in Marseilles as +war-commissioner, had married there one of the daughters of the rich +merchant Clary; and her younger sister Desiree was the one to whom +Napoleon had devoted his heart. The whole Bonaparte family was now in +Marseilles, and had decided to make their permanent residence in France, +as their return to Corsica was still impossible; for General Paoli, no +longer able to hold the island, had called the English to his help, and +the assembled Consulta, over which Paoli presided, had invited the King +of England to become sovereign of the island. The French party, at whose +head had been the Bonaparte family, was overcome, and could no longer +lift up head or voice. + +Bonaparte came often to Marseilles to visit his family, which consisted +of his mother Letitia, her three daughters, her two younger sons, and +her brother, the Abbe Fesch. There, he had seen every day, in the house +of his brother, Desiree Clary, and the beautiful, charming maid had not +failed to leave in the heart of the young general a deep impression. +Desiree seemed to return this inclination, and a union of the two young +lovers might soon have taken place, if fate, in the shape of accident, +had not prevented it. + +Joseph was sent by the Committee of Safety to Genoa, with instructions; +his young wife and her sister Desiree accompanied him. Perhaps the +new, variable impressions of the journey, perhaps her separation from +Bonaparte, and her association with other officers less gloomy than the +saturnine Napoleon, all this seemed to cool the love of Desiree Clary; +she no more answered Napoleon's letters, and, in writing to his brother +Joseph, he made bitter complaints: "It seems that to reach Genoa the +River Lethe must first be crossed, and therefore Desiree writes no +more." [Footnote: See "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i.] + +The only confidant to whom Bonaparte imparted these heart-complaints, +was Junot. He had for him no secrecy of his innermost and deepest +inclinations; to him he complained with grave and impassioned words +of Desiree's changeableness; and Junot, whose worshipful love for his +friend could not understand that any maiden, were she the most beautiful +and glorious on earth, could ever slight the inclination of General +Bonaparte, Junot shared his wrath against Desiree, who had begun the +rupture between them by leaving unanswered two of Napoleon's letters. + +After having been angry and having complained in concert with Bonaparte, +Junot's turn to be confidential had come. Bewildered, and blushing like +a young maid, he avowed to his dear general that he also loved, and that +he could hope for happiness and joy only if Napoleon's younger sister, +the beautiful little Pauline, would be his wife. + +Bonaparte listened to him with a frowning countenance, and when Junot +ended by asking his mediation with Pauline's mother, Napoleon asked in +a grave tone, "But, what have you to live upon? Can you support Pauline? +Can you, with her, establish a household which will be safe against +want?" + +Junot, radiant with joy, told him how, anticipating this question of +Napoleon, he had written to his father, and had asked for information +in regard to his means; and that his father had just now answered his +questions, and had replied that for the present he could not give him +anything, but that after his death the inheritance of his son would +amount to twenty thousand francs. + +"I shall be one day rich," exclaimed Junot, gayly, as he handed to +Napoleon the letter of his father, "for with my pay I will have an +income of twelve hundred livres. My general, I beseech you, write to +the Citoyenne Bonaparte; tell her that you have read the letter of my +father, and say a good word in my favor." + +Bonaparte did not at once reply. He attentively read the letter of +Junot, senior, then returned it to his friend, and with head sunk down +upon his breast he stared gloomily, with contracted eyebrows. + +"You answer not, general," exclaimed Junot, in extreme anguish. "You do +not wish to be my mediator?" + +Bonaparte raised his head; his cheeks were paler than before, and a +gloomy expression was in his eyes. + +"I cannot write to my mother to make her this proposition," said he, in +a rough, severe tone. "That is impossible, my friend. You say that one +day you will have an income of twelve hundred livres. That is, indeed, +very fair, but you have them not now. Besides, your father's health is +remarkably good, and he will make you wait a long time. For the present +you have nothing; for your lieutenant's epaulets can be reckoned as +nothing. As regards Pauline, she has not even that much. Let us then +sum up: you have nothing; she has nothing! What is the total amount? +Nothing. You cannot, therefore, be married now: let us wait. We shall, +perhaps, friend, outlive these evil days. Yes, we shall outlive them, +even if I have to become an exile, to seek for them in another portion +of the world! Let us, then, wait!" [Footnote: Bonaparte's words.--See +Abrantes, "Memoires," vol. i., p. 284.] + +And a wondrous, mysterious brilliancy and flash filled the eyes of +General Bonaparte, as with a commanding voice he repeated, "Let us +wait!" + +Was this one of those few and pregnant moments in which the mind with +prophetic power gazes into the future? Had a corner of the veil which +hid the future been lifted up before the glowing eagle-eye of Napoleon, +and did he see the splendor and the glory of that future which were to +be his? However great his imagination, however ambitious his dreams, +however wide his hopes, yet they all were to be one day surpassed by +the reality. For would he not have considered a madman him, who, at this +hour, would have told him: "Smooth the furrows on your brow, Bonaparte; +be not downcast about the present. You are now in want, you are thrust +aside; forgetfulness and obscurity are now your lot; but be of good +cheer, you will be emperor, and all Europe will lie trembling at your +feet. You love the young Desiree Clary, and her indifference troubles +you; but be of good cheer, you will one day marry the daughter of +a Caesar, and the little Desiree, the daughter of a merchant from +Marseilles, will one day be Sweden's queen! You refuse to Junot, your +friend, the gratification of his wishes, because he possesses nothing +but his officer's epaulets: but be of good cheer, for you will one day +convert the little Lieutenant Junot into a duke, and give him a kingdom +for a dowry! You feel downhearted and ashamed, because your sister +Pauline is not rich, because she possesses nothing but her beauty and +her name: but be of good cheer, she will one day be the wife of the +wealthiest prince of Italy; all the treasures of art will be gathered +in her palace, and yet she will be the most precious ornament of that +palace!" + +Surely the General Bonaparte would have laughed at the madman, who, in +the year 1795, should have thus spoken to him--and yet a mere decade of +years was to suffice for the realization of all these prophecies, and to +turn the incredible into a reality. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. THE THIRTEENTH VENDEMIAIRE. + + +The days of terror, and of blood, under which France has sighed so long, +were not to end with the fall of Robespierre. Another enemy of the rest +and peace of France had now made its entrance into Paris--hunger began +to exercise its dreary rale of horror, and to fill the hearts of men +with rage and despair. + +Everywhere throughout France the crops had failed, and the republic had +too much to do with the guillotine, with the political struggles in the +interior, with the enemies on the frontier, she had been so busy with +the heads of her children, that she could have no care for the welfare +of their stomachs. + +The corn-magazines were empty, and in the treasury of the republican +government there was no money to buy grain in foreign markets. Very soon +the want of bread, the cry for food, made itself felt everywhere; soon +hunger goaded into new struggles of despair the poor Parisian people, +already so weary with political storms, longing for rest, and exhausted +by conflicts. Hunger drove them again into politics, hunger converted +the women into demons, and their husbands into fanatical Jacobins. Every +day, tumults and seditious gatherings took place in Paris; the murmuring +and howling crowd threatened to rise up. Every day appeared at the bar +of the Convention the sections of Paris, entreating with wild cries for +a remedy for their distress. At every step in the streets one was met by +intoxicated women, who tried to find oblivion of their hunger in wine, +and to whom, notwithstanding their drunkenness, the consciousness of +their calamity remained. These drunken women, with the gestures of +madness, shouted: "Bread! give us bread! We had bread at least in the +year '93! Bread! Down with the republic! Down with the Convention, which +leaves us to starve!" + +To these shouts responded other masses of the people: "Down with the +constitutionalists! Long live the Mountain! Long live the Convention!" + +Civil war, which in its exhaustion had remained subdued for a moment, +threatened to break out with renewed rage, for the parties stood +face to face in determined hostility, and "Down with the +constitutionalists!--down with the republicans!" was the watchword of +these parties. + +For a moment it seemed as if the Mountain, as if the revolution, would +regain the ascendency, as if the terrorists would once more seize +the rudder which had slipped from their blood-stained hands. But the +Convention, which for a time had remained undecided, trembling and +vacillating, rose at length from its lethargy to firm, energetic +measures, and came to the determination to restore peace at any price. + +The people, stirred up by the terrorists, the furious men of the +Mountain, had to be reduced to silence, and the cry, "Long live the +constitution of '93!--down with the Convention!"--this cry, which every +day rolled on through the streets of Paris like the vague thunderings +of the war-drum,--had to be put down by armed force. Barrere, +Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varennes, the remnant of the sanguinary +administration of Robespierre, the terrorists who excited the people +against the Convention, who pressed on the Thermidorists, and wanted +to occupy their place, these were the ones who with their adherents +and friends threatened the Convention and imperilled its existence. The +Convention rose up in its might and punished these leaders of sedition, +so as through fear and horror to disperse the masses of the people. + +Barrere, Collot d'Herbois, and Billaud Varennes, were arrested and sent +to Cayenne; six of their friends, six republicans and terrorists, were +also seized, and as they were convicted of forging plots against the +Convention and the actual administration, they were sentenced to death. +A seventh had also been at the head of this conspiracy; and this seventh +one, who with the others had been sentenced to death, and whom the +Committee of Safety had watched for everywhere, to bring down upon him +the chastisement due, this seventh one was Salicetti--the same Salicetti +who after the fall of Robespierre had arrested General Bonaparte as +suspect. Bonaparte had never forgiven him, and though he often met him +in the house of Madame de Permont, and appeared to be reconciled with +him, yet he could not forget that he was the one who had stopped him +in the midst of his course of fame, that it was he who had debarred him +from his whole career. + +"Salicetti has done me much harm," said Bonaparte to Madame de Permont, +and a strange look from his eyes met her face--"Salicetti has destroyed +my future in its dawn. He has blighted my plans of fame in their bud. +I repeat, he has done me much harm. He has been my evil spirit. I +can never forget it," but added he, thoughtfully, "I will now try to +forgive." [Footnote: Abrantes, vol. i, p. 300.] + +And again a peculiar, searching look of his eyes met the face of Madame +de Permont. + +She, however, turned aside, she avoided his look, for she dared not tell +him that Salicetti, for whom the Convention searched throughout Paris so +as to bring upon him the execution of his death-warrant--that Salicetti, +whom Bonaparte so fiercely hated, was hid a few steps from him in the +little cabinet near the drawing-room. + +Like Bonaparte, Salicetti was the countryman of Madame de Permont; in +the days of his power, he had saved the husband and the son of Panonia +from the persecution of the terrorists, and lie had now come to ask +safety from those whom he had once saved. + +Madame de Permont had not had the courage to refuse an asylum to +Salicetti; she kept him secreted in her house for weeks; and during all +these weeks, Bonaparte came daily to visit Madame de Permont and her +children, and every day he turned the conversation upon Salicetti, and +asked if they knew not yet where he was secreted. And every time, when +Madame de Permont answered him in the negative, he gazed at her with a +piercing look, and with his light, sarcastic smile. + +Meanwhile Salicetti's danger for himself, and those who secreted him, +increased every day, and Madame de Permont resolved to quit Paris. +The sickness of her husband, who was in Toulon, furnished her with the +welcomed opportunity of a journey. She made known to the friends and +acquaintances who visited her house, and especially to Bonaparte, that +she had received a letter from the physician in Toulon, requesting her +presence at her husband's bed of sickness. Bonaparte read the letter, +and again the same strange look met the face of Madame de Permont. + +"It is, indeed, important," said he, "that you should travel, and I +advise you to do so as soon as possible. Fatal consequences might ensue +to M. de Permont, were you to delay any longer in going to Toulon." + +Madame de Permont made, therefore, all her arrangements for this +journey. Salicetti, disguised as a servant, was to accompany her. +Bonaparte still came as usual every day, and took great interest in +the preparations for her journey, and conversed with her in the most +friendly and pleasant manner. On the day of departure, he saluted her +most cordially, assured her of his true, unswerving attachment, and, +with a final, significant look, expressed a wish that her journey might +be accomplished without danger. + +When Madame de Permont had overcome all difficulties, and she and her +daughter had left Paris and passed the barriere, as the carriage rolled +on without interruption (Salicetti, disguised as a servant, sitting +near the postilion on the driver's seat), the housemaid handed to her +a letter which General Bonaparte had given her, with positive orders to +hand it to her mistress only when they should be beyond the outer gates +of Paris. + +The letter ran thus: "I have never been deceived: I would seem to be in +your estimation, if I did not tell you that, for the last twenty days, I +knew that Salicetti was secreted in your house. Remember what I told +you on the first day, Prairial, Madame de Permont--I had then the mental +conviction of this secrecy. Now it is a matter of fact.--Salicetti, you +see I could have returned to you the wrong which you perpetrated against +me, and by so doing I should have revenged myself, whilst you wronged +me without any offence on my part. Who plays at this moment the nobler +part, you or I? Yes, I could have revenged myself, and I have not done +it. You will, perhaps, say that your benefactress acted as a protecting +shield. That is true, and it also is taken into consideration. Yet, +even without this consideration, such as you were--alone, disarmed, +sentenced--your head would even then have been sacred to me. Go, seek in +peace a refuge where you can rise to nobler sentiments for your country. +My mouth remains closed in reference to your name, and will no more +utter it. Repent, and, above all things, do justice to my intentions. I +deserve it, for they are noble and generous. + +"Madame de Permont, my best wishes accompany you and your daughter. You +are two frail beings, without protection. Providence and prayers will +accompany you. Be prudent, and during your journey never stop in large +towns. Farewell, and receive the assurance of my friendship." [Footnote: +Abrantes, "Memoires," vol. i., p. 351.] + +The nobility of mind which Bonaparte displayed toward his enemy was +soon to receive its reward; for, whilst Salicetti, a fugitive, sick, +and sentenced to death, was compelled to remain hidden, Bonaparte was +emerging from the oblivion to which the ambitious zeal of Salicetti +would have consigned him. + +When Napoleon, dismissed from his position, arrived in Paris, and +appealed to Aubry, the chief of the war department, to be re-established +in his command, he was told: "Bonaparte is too young to command an army +as general-in-chief;" and Bonaparte answered: "One soon becomes old on +the battle-field, and I come from it." [Footnote: Norvins, "Histoire de +Napoleon," vol. i., p. 60.] + +But Aubry, in his functions of chief of the war department, was soon +superseded by the representative Douclet de Ponte-Coulant, and this +event gave to the position of the young general a different aspect. +Ponte-Coulant had for some time followed with attention the course of +the young general, whose military talents and warlike reputation had +filled him with astonishment. He had especially been surprised at +the plan for the conduct of the war and the conquest of Italy which +Bonaparte had laid before the war committee. Now that Ponte-Coulant had +been promoted to be chief of the war department, he sent for General +Bonaparte, and attached him to the topographic committee, where the +plans of campaigns were decided and the movements of each separate corps +delineated. + +The forgotten one, doomed to inactivity, General Napoleon Bonaparte, now +arose from his obscurity, and before him again opened life, the world, +and fame's pathway, which was to lead him up to a throne. But the envy +and jealousy of the party-men of the Convention ever threw obstacles +before him on his glorious course, and the war-scheme which he +now unfolded to the committee for the campaign did not receive the +approbation of the successor of Ponte-Coulant in the war department, and +it was thrust aside. A new political crisis was needed to place in the +hands of Napoleon the command of the army, the ruling authority over +France, and this crisis was at hand. + +Paris, diseased, still bleeding in its innermost life with a thousand +wounds, was devoured by hunger. The unfortunate people, wretched from +want and pain, during many past years, were now driven to despair. The +political party leaders understood but too well how to take advantage of +this, and to prey upon it. The royalists were busy instilling into the +people's minds the idea that the return of the Bourbons would restore +to miserable France peace and happiness. The terrorists told the people +that the Convention was the sole obstacle to their rest and to their +peace, that it was necessary to scatter it to the winds, and to +re-establish the Constitution of 1793. The whole population of Paris was +divided and broken into factions, struggling one against the other with +infuriated passions. The royalists, strengthened by daily accessions +of emigrants, who, under fictitious names and with false passports, +returned to Paris to claim the benefit of the milder laws passed in +their favor, constituted a formidable power in that city. Whole sections +were devoted to them, and were secretly supplied by them with arms and +provisions, so as finally to be prepared to act against the Convention. +An occasion soon presented itself. + +The Convention had, through eleven of its committee members, prepared +a new constitution, and had laid it before the people for adoption or +rejection, according to the majority of votes. The whole country, with +the exception of Paris, was in favor of this new constitution--she +alone in her popular assemblies rejected it, declared the Convention +dissolved, and the armed sections arose to make new elections. The +Convection declared these assemblies to be illegal, and ordered their +dissolution. The armed sections made resistance, congregated together, +and by force opposed the troops of the Convention--the National +Guards--commanded by General Menou. On the 12th Vendemiaire all Paris +was under arms again; barricades were thrown up by the people, who +swore to die in their defence sooner than to submit to the will of the +Convention; the noise of drums and trumpets was heard in every street; +all the horrors and cruelties of a civil war once more filled the +capital of the revolution, and the city was drunk with blood! + +The people fought with the courage of despair, pressed on victoriously, +and won from General Menou a few streets; whole battalions of the +National Guards abandoned the troops of the Convention and went over to +the sections. General Menou found himself in so dangerous a position +as to be forced to conclude an armistice until the next day with the +Section Lepelletier, which was opposed to him, up to which time the +troops on either side were to suspend operations. + +The Section Lepelletier declared itself at once en permanence, sent +her delegates to all the other sections, and called upon "the sovereign +people, whose rights the Convention wished to usurp," to make a last and +decisive struggle. + +The Convention found itself in the most alarming position; it trembled +for its very existence, and already in fancy saw again the days of +terror, the guillotine rising and claiming for its first victims the +heads of the members of the Convention. A pallid fear overspread all +faces as constantly fresh news of the advance of the sections reached +them, when General Menou sent news of the concluded armistice. + +At this moment a pale young man rushed into the hall of session, and +with glowing eloquence and persuasive manner entreated the Convention +not to accept the armistice, not to give time to the sections to +increase their strength, nor to recognize them as a hostile power to war +against the government. + +This pale young man--whose impassioned language filled the minds of all +his hearers with animosity against General Menou, and with fresh courage +and desire to fight--was Napoleon Bonaparte. + +After he had spoken, other representatives rushed to the tribune, to +make propositions to the Assembly, all their motions converging to the +same end--all desired to have General Menou placed under arrest, and +Bonaparte appointed in his place, and intrusted with the defence of the +Convention and of the legislative power against the people. + +The Assembly accepted this motion, and appointed Bonaparte commanding +officer of the troops of the Convention, and, for form's sake, named +Barras, president of the Convention, commander-in-chief. + +Bonaparte accepted the commission; and now, at last, after so much +waiting, so many painful months of inactivity, he found himself called +to action; he stood again at the head of an army, however small it might +be, and could again lift up the sword as the signal for the march to the +fight. + +It is true this fight had a sad, horrible purpose; it was directed +against the people, against the sections which declared themselves to be +the committee of the sovereign people, and that they were fighting the +holy fight of freedom against those who usurped their rights. + +General Bonaparte had refused to go to Vendee, because he wished not +to fight against his own countrymen, and could not take part in a +civil war; but now, at this hour of extreme peril, he placed himself +in opposition to the people's sovereignty, and assumed command over the +troops of the Convention, whose mission it was to subdue the people. + +Every thing now assumed a more earnest attitude; during the night the +newly-appointed commanding officer sent three hundred chasseurs, under +Murat, to bring to Paris forty cannon from the park of artillery in +Sablons, and, when the morning of the 13th Vendemiaire began to dawn, +the pieces were already in position in the court of the Tuileries and +pointed against the people. Besides which, General Bonaparte had taken +advantage of the night to occupy all the important points and places, +and to arm them; even into the hall of session of the Convention he +ordered arms and ammunition to be brought, that the representatives +might defend themselves, in case they were pressed upon by the people. + +As the sun of the 13th Vendemiaire rose over Paris, a terrible +street-fight began--the fight of the sovereign people against the +Convention. It was carried on by both sides with the utmost bitterness +and fierceness, the sections rushing with fanatic courage, with all the +energy of hatred, against these soldiers who dared slay their brothers +and bind their liberty in chains; the soldiers of the Convention fought +with all the bitterness which the consciousness of their hated position +instilled into them. + +The cannon thundered in every street and mingled their sounds with the +cries of rage from the sectionnaires--the howlings of the women, the +whiz of the howitzers, the loud clangs of the bells, which incessantly +called the people to arms. Streams of blood flowed again through the +streets; everywhere, near the scattered barricades, near the houses +captured by storm, lay bloody corpses; everywhere resounded the cries of +the dying, the shrieks and groans of the wounded, the wild shouts of the +combatants. In the Church of St. Roche, and in the Theatre Francaise, +the sectionnaires, driven from the neighboring streets by the troops of +General Bonaparte, had gathered together and endeavored to defend these +places with the courage of despair. But the howitzers of Bonaparte soon +scattered them, and the contest was decided. + +The sections were defeated; the people, conquered by the Convention, had +to recognize its authority; they were no more the sovereigns of France; +they had found a ruler before whom they must bow. + +This ruler was yet called the Convention, but behind the Convention +stood another ruler--General Bonaparte! + +It was he who had defeated the people, who had secured the authority to +the Convention, and it was therefore natural that it should be thankful +and exhibit its gratitude. General Bonaparte, in acknowledgment for +the great services done to his country, was by the Convention appointed +commander-in-chief of the army of the interior, and thus suddenly he +saw himself raised from degrading obscurity to pomp and influence, +surrounded by a brilliant staff, installed in a handsome palace by +virtue of his office as chief officer, entitled to and justified in +maintaining an establishment wherein to represent worthily the dignity +of his new position. + +The 13th Vendemiaire, which dethroned the sovereign people, brought +General Bonaparte a step nearer to the throne. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE WIDOW JOSEPHINE BEAUHARNAIS. + + +Meanwhile Josephine had passed the first months of her newly-obtained +freedom in quiet contentment with her children in Fontainebleau, at the +house of her father-in-law. Her soul, bowed down by so much misery +and pain, needed quietness and solitude to allow her wounds to cease +bleeding and to heal; her heart, which had experienced so much anguish +and so many deceptions, needed to rest on the bosom of her children and +her relatives, so as to be quickened into new life. Only in the solitude +and stillness of Fontainebleau did she feel well and satisfied; every +other distraction, every interruption of this quiet, orderly existence +brought on a nervous trembling, which mastered her whole body, as if +some other adversity was about to break upon her. The days of terror +which she had passed in Paris, and especially the days she had outlived +in prison, were ever fresh before her mind, and tormented her with their +reminiscences alike in her vigils and in her dreams. + +She wanted to hear nothing of the world's events, nothing from Paris, +the mention of which place filled her with fear and horror; and with +tears in her eyes she entreated her father-in-law to omit all mention of +the political changes and revolutions which took place there. + +But, alas! the politics from which Josephine fled, to which she closed +her ears, rushed upon her against her will--they came to her in the +shape of want and privation. + +Josephine, who wished to have nothing more to do with the affairs of +this world, learned, through the deprivations which she had to endure, +the want to which she and her family were exposed, that the world +had not yet been pushed back into the old grooves, out of which +the revolution had so violently lifted it up; that the republic yet +exercised a despotic authority, and was not prepared to return to the +heirs the property of the victims of the guillotine! The income +and property of General Beauharnais had all been confiscated by +the republic, for he had been executed as a state criminal, and +the procedure had this in common with the ordinary actions of the +government, that it never returned what it had once usurped. Even +Josephine's father-in-law, as well as her aunt--Madame de Renaudin, +who, after her husband's death, had been married to the Marquis de +Beauharnais--had both in the revolutionary storms lost all their +property, and saw themselves reduced to the last extremity. They lived +from day to day with the greatest economy, upon the smallest means, and +flattered themselves with the hope that justice would be done to the +innocent victims of the revolution; that at last to the widow and +children of the murdered General Beauharnais his income and property +would be returned. + +Another hope remained to Josephine: reliance upon her relatives, +especially upon her mother in Martinique. She had written to her as soon +as she had obtained her liberty; she had entreated her mother, who had +been a widow for two years, to rent all her property in Martinique, and +to come to France, and at her daughter's side to enjoy a few quiet years +of domestic happiness. + +But this hope also was to be destroyed, for the revolution in Martinique +had committed the same devastations as in France, and the burning houses +of their masters had been the bonfires whose flames were sent up to +heaven by the newly-freed slaves in the name of the republic and of the +rights of man. Madame Tascher de la Pagerie had experienced the same +fate as all the planters in Martinique; her house and outbuildings had +been burnt, her plantations destroyed, and a long time would be required +before the fields could again be made to produce a harvest. Until then, +Madame Tascher would be sorely limited in her means, and, if she did +not succeed in selling some of her property and raising funds, would be +without the money necessary to bring under cultivation the remnant of +her large plantation. She was, therefore, not immediately prepared to +supply her daughter with any considerable assistance, and Josephine +endured the anguish of seeing not only herself and children, but also +her dear mother, suffer through want and privation. + +To the need of gold to procure bare necessaries, was soon added the very +lack of them. Famine, with all its horrors, was at hand; the people +were clamoring for food, and the land-owners as well as the rich were +suffering from the want of that prime necessary of life-bread! The +Convention had adopted no measures to satisfy the demands of the howling +populace, and it had to remain contented with making accessible to all +such provisions as were in the land. One law, therefore, ordered all +land-owners to deliver to the state their stores of meal; a second law +prohibited any person from buying more than one pound of bread on the +same day. The greatest delicacy in those days of common wretchedness +was white bread, and there were many families that for a long time were +unable to procure this luxury. + +Josephine herself had with many others to endure this privation: the +costly white loaf was beyond her reach. In her depressed and sad lot the +unfortunate widowed viscountess remained in possession of a treasure +for which many of the wealthy and high-born longed in vain, and which +neither gold nor wealth could procure--Josephine possessed friends, +true, devoted friends, who forsook her not in the day of need, but stood +the more closely at her side, helping and loving. + +Among these friends were, above all, Madame Dumoulin and M. Emery. +Madame Dumoulin, the wife of a wealthy purveyor of the republican army, +was at heart a true royalist, and had made it her mission, as much as +was within her power, to assist with her means the most destitute from +whom the revolution had taken their family joys and property. She aided +with money and clothing the unfortunate emigrants, who, as prominent and +influential friends of the king and of Old France, had abandoned their +country, and who now, as nameless, wretched beggars, returned home to +beg of New France the privilege at least to hunger and starve, and at +last to die in their motherland. Madame Dumoulin had always an open +house for those aristocrats and ci-devants who had the courage not to +emigrate and to bow their despised heads to all the fluctuations of the +republic, and had remained in France, though deprived by the republic of +their ancestral names, property, and rank. Those aristocrats who had +not migrated found a friendly reception in the house of the witty and +amiable Madame Dumoulin, and twice a week she gathered those friends of +the ancient regime to a dinner, which was prepared with all the luxury +of former days, and which offered to her friends, besides material +enjoyment, the pleasures of an agreeable and attractive company. + +Among Madame Dumoulin's friends who never failed to be present at these +dinners was Josephine de Beauharnais, of whom Madame Dumoulin said she +was the sunbeam of her drawing-room, for she warmed and vitalized all +hearts. But this sunbeam had not the power to bring forth out of the +unfruitful soil of the fatherland a few ears of wheat to turn its flour +into white bread. As every one was allowed to buy bread only according +to the numbers in the household, Madame Dumoulin could not give to her +guests at dinner any white bread, and on her cards of invitation was the +then usual form, "You are invited to bring a loaf of white bread." + +But it was beyond the means of the poor Viscountess de Beauharnais to +fulfil this invitation; her purse was not sufficient to afford her twice +a week the luxury of white bread. Madame Dumoulin, who knew this, came +kindly to the rescue of Josephine's distress, and entreated her not to +trouble herself with bringing bread, but to allow her to procure it for +her friend. + +Josephine accepted this offer with tears of emotion, and she never +forgot the goodness and kindness of Madame Dumoulin. In the days of her +highest glory she remembered her, and once, when empress, radiant with +jewels and ornaments of gold, as she stood in the midst of her court, +related with a bewitching smile, to the ladies around her, that there +was a time when she would have given a year of her life to possess but +one of those jewels, not to adorn herself therewith, but to sell it, so +as to buy bread for her children, and that in those days the excellent +Madame Dumoulin had been a benefactress to her, and that she had +received at her hands the bread of charity. [Footnote: "Memoires sur +l'Imperatrice Josephine," par Mad. Ducrest, chap XXXVI.] + +The same abiding friendship was shown to Josephine by M. Emery, a banker +who had a considerable business in Dunkirk, and who for many years had +been in mercantile relations with the family of Tascher de la Pagerie in +Martinique. Madame de la Pagerie had every year sent him the produce of +her sugar plantations, and he had attended to the sale to the largest +houses in Germany. He knew better than any one else the pecuniary +circumstances of the Pagerie family; he knew that, if at present Madame +de la Pagerie could not repay his advanced sums, her plantations would +soon produce a rich harvest, and even now be a sufficient security. M. +Emery was therefore willing to assist the daughter of Madame Tascher de +la Pagerie, and several times he advanced to Josephine considerable sums +which she had drawn upon her mother. + +The cares of every-day life, its physical necessities, lifted Josephine +out of the sad melancholy in which she had lulled her sick, wounded +heart, within the solitude of Fontainebleau. She must not settle down in +this inactive twilight, nor wrap herself up in the gloomy gray veil of +widowhood! Life had still claims upon her; it called to her through +her children's voices, for whom she had a future to provide, as well +as through the voice of her own youth, which she must not intrust +hopelessly to the gloomy Fontainebleau. + +And the young mother dared not and wanted not to close her ears to these +calls; she arose from her supineness, and courageously resolved to +begin anew life's battle, and to claim her share from the enjoyments and +pleasures of this world. + +She first, by the advice of M. Emery, undertook a journey to Hamburg, +to make some arrangements with the rich and highly respectable +banking-house of Mathiesen and Sissen. Mathiesen, the banker, who had +married a niece of Madame de Genlis, had always shown the greatest +hospitality to all Frenchmen who had applied to him, and he had assisted +them with advice and deeds. To him Josephine appealed, at the request +of M. Emery, so as to procure a safe opportunity to send letters to her +mother in Martinique, and also to obtain from him funds on bills drawn +upon her mother. + +M. Mathiesen met her wishes with a generous pleasure, and through him +Josephine received sufficient sums of money to protect her from further +embarrassments and anxieties, at least until her mother, who was on the +eve of selling a portion of her plantation, could send her some money. + +On her return from her business-journey to Hamburg, as she was no longer +a poor widow without means, she adopted the courageous resolution of +leaving her asylum and returning to dangerous and deserted Paris, there +to prepare for her son an honorable future, and endeavor to procure for +her daughter an education suited to her rank and capacities. + +At the end of the year 1795, Josephine returned with her two children +to Paris, which one year before she had left so sorrowfully and so +dispirited. + +What changes had been wrought during this one year! How the face +of things had been altered! The revolution had bled to death. The +thirteenth Vendemiaire had scattered to the winds the seditious elements +of revolution, and the republic was beginning quietly and peacefully to +grow into stature. The Convention, with its Mountain, its terrorists, +its Committee of Safety, its persecutions and executions, had outlived +its power, which it had consigned to the pages of history with so many +tears and so much blood. In a strange contradiction with its own bloody +deeds, it celebrated the last day of its existence by a law which, as a +farewell to the thousand corpses it had sacrificed to the revolution, +it had printed on its gory brow. On the day of its dissolution the +Convention gave to France this last law: "Capital punishment is forever +abolished." [Footnote: Norvins, "Histoire de Napoleon," vol. i., p. 82.] + +With this farewell kiss, this love-salutation to the France of the +future, to the new self-informing France, the Convention dissolved +itself, and in its stead came the Council of Elders, the Council of Five +Hundred, and lastly the Directory, composed of five members, among whom +had been elected the more eminent members of the Convention, namely, +Barras and Carnot. + +Josephine's first movement in Paris was to find the lovely friend whom +she made in the Carmelite prison, and to whom she in some measure owed +her life, to visit Therese de Fontenay and see if the heart of the +beautiful, celebrated woman had in its days of happiness and power +retained its remembrances of those of wretchedness and mortal fears. + +Therese de Fontenay was now the wife of Tallien, who, elected to the +Council of the Five Hundred, continued to play an influential +and important part, and therefore had his court of flatterers and +time-serving friends as well as any ruling prince. His house was one +of the most splendid in Paris; the feasts and banquets which took place +there reminded one, by their extravagant magnificence, of the days of +ancient Rome, and that this remembrance might still be more striking, +ladies in the rich, costly costumes of patrician matrons of ancient +Rome appeared at those festivities not unworthy of a Lucullus. Madame +Tallien--in the ample robe of wrought gold of a Roman empress, shod with +light sandals, from which issued the beautiful naked feet, and the toes +adorned with costly rings, her exquisitely moulded arms ornamented with +massive gold bracelets; her short curly hair fastened together by a +gold bandelet, which rose over the forehead in the shape of a diadem, +bejewelled with precious diamonds; the mantle of purple, fringed +with gold and placed on the shoulders--was in this costume of such a +wonderful beauty, that men gazed at her with astonishment and women with +envy. + +And this beautiful woman, often worshipped and adored, though sometimes +slandered, had amid her triumphs kept a faithful remembrance of the +past. She received Josephine with the affection of a true friend. In +her generosity she allowed her no time to proffer any request, but came +forward herself with offers to intercede for her friend, and to use all +the means at her disposal, omitting nothing that would help Josephine to +recover her fortune, her lost property. With all the eagerness of true +love she took the arm of her friend and led her to Tallien, and with the +enchanting smile and attitude of a commanding princess she told him that +he must help Josephine to become happy again, that every thing he could +do for her would be rewarded by an increasing love; that if he did not +do justice to Josephine, she would punish him by her anger and coldness. + +Tallien listened with complacency to the praiseworthy commands of +his worshipped Therese, and promised to use all his influence to have +justice done to the will of the sacrificed General de Beauharnais. He +himself accompanied Josephine to Barras, that she might present her +application to him personally and request at his hands restitution of +her property. She was received by Barras, as well as by the other four +directors, with the greatest politeness; each promised to attend to +her case and to return to the widow and to the children of Alexandre de +Beauharnais the property which had been so unjustly taken from them. + +It is true, weeks and months of waiting and uncertainty passed away, +but Josephine had hope for a comforter; she had, besides, her beautiful +friend Therese Tallien, who with affectionate eloquence endeavored to +instil courage into Josephine, and by her constant petitions and +prayers did not allow the Directory, amid its many important affairs +of government, to forget the case of the poor young widow. Therese took +care also that Josephine should appear in society at the receptions and +balls given by the members of the new government; and when made timid +through misfortune, and depressed at heart by the uncertainty of her +narrow lot, she desired to keep aloof from these rejoicings, Therese +knew how to convince her that she must sacrifice her love of retirement +to her children; that it was her duty to accept the invitations of the +Directory, so as to keep alive their interest and favor in her behalf; +and that, were she to retreat into solitude and obscurity, she would +thereby imperil her future and that of her children. + +Josephine submitted to this law of necessity, and appeared in society. +She screened her cares and her heartsores under the covert of smiles, +she forced herself into cheerfulness, and when now and then the smile +vanished from her lip and tears filled her eyes, she thought of her +children, and, mastering her sorrows, she was again the beautiful, +lovely woman, whose elegant manners and lively and witty conversation +charmed and astonished every one. + +At last, after long months of uncertainty, Therese Tallien, her face +beaming with joy, came one morning to visit her friend Josephine, and +presented to her a paper with a large seal, which Tallien had given her +that very morning. + +It was an order, signed by the five directors, instructing the +administrator of the domains to relieve the capital and the property of +General Beauharnais from the sequestration laid upon them, and also to +remove the seals from his furniture and his movables, and to reinstate +the Widow Beauharnais in possession of all the property left by her +husband. + +Josephine received this paper with tears of joy, and, full of religious, +devout gratitude, she fell on her knees and cried: + +"I thank Thee, my God! I thank Thee! My children will no more suffer +from want, and now I can give them a suitable education." + +She then fell upon her friend's neck, thanking her for her faithfulness, +and swore her everlasting friendship and affection. + +The dark clouds which had so long overshadowed Josephine's life were now +gone, and in its place dawned day, bright and clear. + +But the sun which was to illumine this day with wondrous glory had +not yet appeared. Therese at this hour reminded her friend of a day in +prison when Josephine had assured her friends trembling for her life +that she was not going to die, that she would one day be Queen of +France. + +"Yes," said Josephine, smiling and thoughtful, "who knows if this +prophecy will not be fulfilled? To-day begins for me a new life. I have +done with the past, and it will sink behind me in the abyss of oblivion. +I trust in the future! It must repay me for all the tears and anxieties +of my past life, and who knows if it will not erect me a throne?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE NEW PARIS. + + +Yes, they were now ended, the days of sufferings and privations! The +wife of General Beauharnais was no more the poor widow who appeared as +a petitioner in the drawing-rooms of the members of the Directory, and +often obliged, even in the worst kind of weather, to go on foot to the +festivals of Madame Tallien, because she lacked the means to pay for +a cab; she was no longer the poor mother who had to be satisfied to +procure inferior teachers for her children, because she could not +possibly pay superior ones. + +Now, as by a spell, all was changed, and gold was the magic wand which +had produced it. Thanks to this talisman, the Viscountess de Beauharnais +could now quit the small, remote, gloomy dwelling in which she had +hitherto resided, and could again procure a house, gather society round +about her, and, above all things, provide for the education of her +children. + +This was her dearest duty, her most important obligation, with which +she busied herself even before she rented a modestly-furnished room. +Her Eugene, the darling of her heart, desired like his father to devote +himself to a military life, and his mother took him to a boarding-school +in St. Germain, where young men of distinguished families received their +education. Her twelve-year-old daughter Hortense, of whom Josephine had +said, "She is my angel with the gold locks, who alone can smile away +the tears from my eyes and sorrow from my heart"--Hortense entered +the newly-opened educational establishment of Madame Campan, once the +lady-in-waiting of Marie Antoinette. Josephine wept hot tears as she +accompanied her Hortense into the boarding-school, and, embracing her +blond curly-haired angel, she closely pressed her to her heart, and +said: + +"Judge how much I love you, my daughter, since I have the courage to +leave you and to deprive myself of the greatest of my life's enjoyments! +Ah, I shall be very lonesome, Hortense, but my thoughts will be with you +continually--with you and your brother Eugene. Live to be an honor to +your father, grow and prosper to be your mother's happiness!" + +Then with a kiss she took leave of her daughter, and comfortless and +alone she returned to her solitary apartments in Paris. + +During the next eight days her doors were shut; she opened them to none, +not even to her friend Therese, and not once did Josephine leave her +dwelling during this time, nor did she accept any of the invitations +which came to her from all sides. + +Her heart was yet wrapped in mourning for her separation from her +children, and, with all the intensity of an affectionate mother's love, +she preferred leaving her anguish to die out of itself than to suppress +it with amusements and pleasures. + +But after this last sorrow had been overcome, Josephine, with serenity +and a smile of cheerfulness, came again from her solitude into the +world which called her forth with all its voices of joy, pleasure, +and flattery. And Josephine no longer closed her ears to these sweet +attractive voices. She had long enough suffered, wept, fasted; now +she ought to reap enjoyments, and gather her portion of this life's +pleasures; now she must live! The past had set behind her, and, as one +new-born or risen from the dead, Josephine walked into the world with a +young maiden heart, and a mind opened to all that is beautiful, great, +and good; her soul filled with visions, hopes, desires, and dreams. +Out of the widow's veil came forth the young, charming Creole, and her +radiant eyes saluted the world with intelligent looks and an expression +of the most attractive goodness. + +Her next care was to procure a pleasant, convenient home suited to her +rank. She purchased from the actor Talma a house which he possessed +in the Street Chautereine, and where he had, during the storms of the +revolution, received his friends as well as all the literary, artistic, +and political notables of the day with the kindest hospitality. It +was not a brilliant, distinguished hotel, no splendid building, but a +small, tastefully and conveniently arranged house, with pretty rooms, a +cheerful drawing-room, lovely garden, exactly suited to have therein a +quiet, agreeable, informal pastime. Josephine possessed in the highest +degree the art of her sex to furnish rooms with elegance and taste, +so as to make every one in them comfortable, satisfied, at ease, and +cheerful. + +The drawing-room of the widow of General Beauharnais became soon the +central point where all her friends of former days found themselves +together again, and all the remnants of the good old society found +reception; where the learned, the artist, the poet, met with a refuge, +there to rest for a few hours from political strife, to put aside the +serpent's skin of assumed republican manners, and again assume the +tone and forms of the higher society. Such drawing-rooms in these +revolutionary days were extremely few; no one dared to become +conspicuous; every one was reserved and quiet; every one shrank from +making himself suspected of being a ci-devant, even if under the +republican toga he left visible his dress-coat of the upper society with +its embroidery of gold. Men had entirely broken with the past, wishing +to deny it, and not be under the yoke of its forms and rules; it was +therefore necessary, out of the chaos of the republic, to create a +new world, a new society, new forms of etiquette, and new fashions. +Meanwhile, until these new fashions for republican France should be +found, men had recourse (so as not to go back to the days of the late +monarchy of France) to the republics of olden times; the ladies dressed +according to the patterns of the old statues of the deities of Greece +and Rome, giving receptions in the style of ancient Greece, and banquets +laid out in all the extravagant splendors of a Lucullus. + +The members of the republican Directory, whose residence was in the +palace of the Luxemburg, took the lead in all these neo-Grecian and +neo-Roman festivities; and, whereas they loudly proclaimed that it was +necessary to furnish opportunities to the working-classes and laborers +to gain money, and that it was incumbent on all to promote industry, +they rivalled each other in their efforts to exhibit an extravagant +pomp and a brilliant display. On reception-days of the members of the +Directory the public streamed in masses toward the Luxemburg, there to +admire the splendors of the five monarchs, and to rejoice that the days +of the carmagnoles, the sans-culottes, the dirty blouse, and the bonnet +rouge were at least gone by. The five directors, to the delight of the +Parisian people, wore costly silk and velvet garments embroidered +with gold, and on their hats, trimmed also with gold lace, waved large +ostrich-plumes. + +Luxury celebrated its return to Paris, after having had to secrete +itself, so long from the blood-stained hands of the sans-culottes, +in the most obscure corners of the deserted palaces of St. Germain. +Pleasure, which had fled away horrified from the guillotine and from the +terrorists, dared once more to show its rose-wreathed brow and smiling +countenance, and here and there make its cheerful festivities resound. + +Men became glad, and dared to laugh again; they came out from the +stillness of their homes, which anxiety had kept closed, to search for +amusement, pleasure, and recreation; but no citizen dared to be select, +none dared to assume aristocratic exclusiveness. One had to be pleased +with a dinner at a tavern; with a glass of ice-water in a cafe, or to +take part in a public ball which was opened to every one who could pay +his fee of admission; and especially in the evening the public rushed to +the theatre with the same eagerness that was exhibited in the morning +to reach the shops of the bakers and butchers, where each received +his portion of meat or bread by producing a card signed by the circuit +commissioners. In front of these shops, as well as in front of the +theatres, the pressure was so great that for hours it was necessary to +fall into line, and sometimes go away dissatisfied; for the republic +had yet retained the system of equality, so that the rich and the +influential were not served any sooner than the poor and the unknown; +there was only one exception: only one condition received distinction +before the baker's shop and the theatre: it was that of the mothers of +the future, those women whose external appearance revealed that they +would soon bring forth a future citizen, a new soldier for the republic, +which had lost so many of its sons upon the scaffold and on the +battle-field. + +It was so long that one had been deprived of laughter and merriment, and +had walked with sad countenance and grave solemnity through the days +of blood and terror, that now every occasion for hilarity was received +eagerly and thankfully, and every opportunity for mirth and amusement +sought out. The theatres were therefore filled every evening with an +attentive, thankful audience; every jest of the actor, every part well +performed, elicited enthusiastic approbation. It is true no one yet +dared act any other pieces than those which had reference to the +revolution, and in some shape or other celebrated the republic, accusing +and vilifying the royalists. The pieces represented were--"The Perfect +Equality," or else "Thee and Thou," "The Last Trial of the Queen," +"Tarquin, or the Fall of the Monarchy," "Marat's Apotheosis," and +similar dramas, all infused with republicanism; still, men faint at +heart and satiated with the republic, hastened notwithstanding to the +theatre, to enjoy an hour of recreation and merriment. + +To be cheerful, happy, and joyous, seemed now to the Parisians the +highest duty of life, and every thing was made subservient to it. +The people had wept and mourned so long, that now, to shake off this +oppressive heaviness of mind, they rushed with fanatical precipitancy +into pleasure; they gave themselves up to the wildest orgies and +bacchanals, and without disgust or shame abandoned themselves to the +most immoral conduct. All tears were dried up as if by magic; honest +poverty began to be ashamed of itself; and the wealth so carefully hid +until now, was again brought to light; even those who in the days +of revolutionary terror had become rich through the property of the +sacrificed victims, exposed themselves to public gaze with impunity +and without shame. They plundered and adorned themselves with a wealth +acquired only through cunning, treachery, and murder. Everywhere feasts, +banquets, and balls, were organized; and it was an ordinary event to +find in the same company the accuser and the accused, the executioner +and his victim, the murderer near the daughter of the man whose head he +had given over to the guillotine! + +This was especially the case at the so-called victim balls (bals a la +victime) which were given by the heirs, the sons and fathers of +those who had perished by the guillotine. People gathered together +in brilliant entertainments and balls to the honor and memory of the +executed ones. Every one who could pay the large fee of admission to +these bals a la victime were permitted to enter. Those who came there, +not for pleasure, but to honor their dead, showed this intention by +their clothing, and especially by the arrangement of their hair. To +remind them that those who had been led to the guillotine had had their +hair cut close, gentlemen now had theirs cut short, and the dressing +of the hair a la victime was for gentlemen as much a fashion as the +dressing of the hair a la Titus (the Roman emperor) was for the ladies. +Besides this, the heirs of the victims wore some token of the departed +ones, and ladies and gentlemen were seen in the blood-stained garments +which their relatives had worn on their way to the scaffold, and which +they had purchased with large sums of money from the executioner, that +lord of Paris. It often happened that a lady in the blood-stained dress +of her mother danced with the son of the man who had delivered her +mother to the guillotine; that a son of a member of the Convention of +1793 led, in the minuet, the graceful "pas de chale," with the daughter +of an emigrant marquis. The most fanatical men of the days of terror, +now exalted into wealthy land-owners, led on in the gay waltz the +daughters of their former landlords; and these women pressed the hand +soiled with the blood of their relatives because now, as amends for +their traffic in blood, they could offer future wealth and distinction. + +It seemed that all Paris and all France had gone mad--that the whole +nation was drunk with blood as with intoxicating wine, and wanted +to stifle the voice of conscience in the horrible revelry of the +saturnalia. + +Josephine never took part in these public balls and festivities; +never did the widow of General Beauharnais, one of the victims of the +revolution, attend these bals a la victime, where man prided himself on +his misfortune and gloried in his sorrows. The Moniteur--which then gave +daily notices of the balls and amusements that were to take place in +Paris, so as to let the world know how cheerful and happy every one +felt there, and which made it its business to publish the names of the +ci-devants and ex-nobles who had partaken in these festivities--never +in its long and correct list mentions the name of the widow of General +Beauharnais. + +Josephine kept aloof from all these wild dissipations--these balls and +banquets. She would neither dance, nor adorn herself in the memory of +her husband; she would not take a part in the splendid festivities of +a republic which had murdered him, and had pierced her loyal heart with +the deepest wounds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. THE FIRST INTERVIEW. + + +In the midst of these joys and amusements of the new-growing Paris, +the storm of the thirteenth Vendemiaire launched forth its destructive +thunderbolts, and another rent was made in the lofty structure of the +republic. The royalists, who had cunningly frequented these bals a +la victime, to weave intrigues and conspiracies, found their webs +scattered, and the republic assumed a new form. + +Napoleon with his sword had cut to pieces the webs and snares of the +royalists as well as of the revolutionists, and France had to bow to the +constitution. In the Tuileries now sat the Council of the Elders; in +the Salle du Manege sat the Five Hundred; and in the palace of Luxemburg +resided the five directors of the republic. + +On the thirteenth Vendemiaire Paris had passed through a crisis of its +revolutionary disease; and, to prevent its falling immediately into +another, it permitted the newly-appointed commander-in-chief of the army +of the interior of France, General Napoleon Bonaparte, to have every +house strictly searched, and to confiscate all weapons found. + +Even into the house of the Viscountess de Beauharnais, in the rue +Chantereine, came the soldiers of the republic to search for secreted +weapons. They found there the sword of Alexandre de Beauharnais, which +certainly Josephine had not hidden, for it was the chief ornament of her +son's room. When Eugene, on the next Saturday, came to Paris from St. +Germain, as he did every week, to pass the Sunday in his mother's house, +to his great distress he saw vacant on the wall the place where the +sword of his father had been hanging. With trembling voice and tears +in her eyes his mother told him that General Bonaparte, the new +commander-in-chief, had ordered the sword to be carried away by his +soldiers. + +A cry of anger and of malediction was Eugene's answer; then with +flaming eyes and cheeks burning with rage he rushed out, despite the +supplications of his affrighted and anxious mother. Without pausing, +without thinking--conscious only of this, that he must have again his +father's sword, he rushed on. It was impossible, thought he, that the +republic which had deprived his father of the honors due to him, his +property, his money--that now, after his death, she should also take +away his sword. + +He must have this sword again! This was Eugene's firm determination, +and this made him bold and resolute. He rushed into the palace where the +general-in-chief, Bonaparte, resided, and with daring vehemence demanded +an interview with the general; and, as the door-keeper hesitated, and +even tried to push away the bold boy from the door of the drawing-room, +Eugene turned about with so much energy, spoke, scolded, and raged so +loudly and so freely, that the noise reached even the cabinet where +General Bonaparte was. He opened the door, and in his short, imperious +manner asked the cause of this uproar; and when the servant had told +him, with a sign of the hand he beckoned the young man to come in. + +Eugene de Beauharnais entered the drawing-room with a triumphant +smile, and the eye of General Bonaparte was fixed with pleasure on the +beautiful, intelligent countenance, on the tall, powerful figure of the +fifteen-year-old boy. In that strange, soft accent which won hearts to +Napoleon, he asked Eugene his business. The young man's cheeks became +pallid, and with tremulous lips and angry looks, the vehement eloquence +of youth and suffering, Eugene spoke of the loss he had sustained, and +of the pain which had been added to it by despoiling him of the sword of +his father, murdered by the republic. + +At these last words of Eugene, Bonaparte's brow was overshadowed, and an +appalling look met the face of the brave boy. + +"You dare say that the republic has murdered your father?" asked he, in +a loud, angry voice. + +"I say it, and I say the truth!" exclaimed Eugene, who did not turn away +his eyes from the flaming looks of the general. "Yes, the republic has +murdered my father, for it has executed him as a criminal, as a traitor +to his country, and he was innocent; he ever was a faithful servant of +his country and of the republic." + +"Who told you that it was so?" asked Bonaparte, abruptly. + +"My heart and the republic itself tell me that my father was no +traitor," exclaimed Eugene, warmly. "My mother loved him much, and she +regrets him still. She would not do so had he been a traitor, and then +the republic would not have done what it has done--it would not have +returned to my mother the confiscated property of my father, but would, +had he been considered guilty, have gladly kept it back." + +The grave countenance of Bonaparte was overspread by a genial smile, and +his eyes rested with the expression of innermost sympathy on the son of +Josephine. + +"You think, then, that the republic gladly keeps what it has?" asked he. + +"I see that it gladly takes what belongs not to it," exclaimed Eugene, +eagerly. "It has taken away my father's sword, which belonged to me, his +son, and my mother has made me swear on that sword to hold my father's +memory sacred, and to strive to be like him." + +"Your mother is, it seems, a very virtuous old lady," said Bonaparte, in +a friendly tone. + +"My mother is a virtuous, young, and beautiful lady," said Eugene, +sturdily; "and I am certain, general, that if you knew her, you would +not in your heart have caused her so much pain." + +"She has, then, suffered much on account of this sword being taken +away?" asked Bonaparte, interested. + +"Yes, general, she has wept bitterly over this our loss, as I have. +I cannot bear to see my mother weep; it breaks my heart. I therefore +implore you to give me back my father's sword; and I swear to you that +when I am a man, I will carry that sword only for the defence of my +country, as my father had done." + +General Bonaparte nodded kindly to the boy. "You are a brave defender of +your cause," said he, "and I cannot refuse you--I must do as you wish." + +He gave orders to an ordnance officer present in the room to bring +General de Beauharnais's sword; and when the officer had gone to fetch +it, Bonaparte, in a friendly and sympathizing manner, conversed with the +boy. At last the ordnance officer returned, and handed the sword to the +general. + +With solemn gravity Bonaparte gave it to Eugene. "Take it, young man," +said he, "but never forget that you have sworn to carry it only for the +honor and defence of your country." + +Eugene could not answer: tears started from his eyes, and with deep +affection he pressed to his lips the recovered sword of his father. + +This manifestation of true childish emotion moved Bonaparte to tender +sympathy, and an expression of affectionate interest passed over his +features as he offered his hand to Eugene. + +"By Heaven, you are a good son," exclaimed he from his heart, "and you +will be one day a good son to your country! Go, my boy, take to your +mother your father's sword. Tell her that I salute her, though unknown +to her--that I congratulate her in being the mother of so good and brave +a son." + +Such was the beginning of an acquaintance to which Josephine was +indebted for an imperial crown, and, for what is still greater, an +undying fame and an undying love. + +Beaming with joy, Eugene returned to Josephine with his father's sword, +and with all the glowing sentiments of thankfulness he related to her +how kindly and obligingly General Bonaparte had received him, what +friendly and affectionate words he had spoken to him, and how much +forbearance and patience he had manifested to his impassioned request. + +Josephine's maternal heart was sensitive and grateful for every +expression of sympathy toward her son, and the goodness and forbearance +of the general affected her the more, that she knew how bold and wild +the boy, smarting under pain, must have been. She therefore hastened +to perform a duty of politeness by calling the next day on General +Bonaparte, to thank him for the kindness he had shown Eugene. + +For the first time General Bonaparte stood in the presence of the woman +who one day was to share his fame and greatness, and this first moment +was decisive as to his and her future. Josephine's grace and elegance, +her sweetness of disposition, her genial cheerfulness, the expression of +lofty womanhood which permeated her whole being, and which protected +her securely from any rough intrusion or familiarity; her fine, truly +aristocratic bearing, which revealed at once a lady of the court and of +the great world; her whole graceful and beautiful appearance captivated +the heart of Napoleon at the first interview, and the very next day +after receiving her short call he hastened to return it. + +Josephine was not alone when General Bonaparte was announced; and when +the servant named him she could not suppress an inward fear, without +knowing why she was afraid. Her friends, who noticed her tremor and +blush, laughed jestingly at the timidity which made her tremble at the +name of the conqueror of Paris, and this was, perhaps, the reason why +Josephine received General Bonaparte with less complacency than she +generally showed to her visitors. + +Amid the general silence of all those present the young general +(twenty-six years old) entered the drawing-room of the Viscountess de +Beauharnais; and this silence, however flattering it might be to his +pride, caused him a slight embarrassment. He therefore approached the +beautiful widow with a certain abrupt and perplexed manner, and spoke +to her in that hasty, imperious tone which might become a general, but +which did not seem appropriate in a lady's saloon. General Pichegru, +who stood near Josephine, smiled, and even her amiable countenance was +overspread with a slight expression of scorn, as she fixed her beautiful +eyes on this pale, thin little man, whose long, smooth hair fell in +tangled disorder on either side of his temples over his sallow, +hollow cheeks; whose whole sickly and gloomy appearance bore so little +resemblance to the majestic figure of the lion to which he had been so +often compared after his success of the thirteenth Vendemiaire. + +"I perceive, general," suddenly exclaimed Josephine, "that you are sorry +it was your duty to fill Paris once more with blood and horror. You +would undoubtedly have preferred not to be obliged to carry out the +bloody orders of the affrighted Convention?" + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders somewhat. "That is very possible," said +he, perfectly quiet. "But what can you expect, madame? We military men +are but the automatons which the government sets in motion according +to its good pleasure; we know only how to obey; the sections, however, +cannot but congratulate themselves that I have spared them so much. +Nearly all my cannon were loaded only with powder. I wanted to give a +little lesson to the Parisians. The whole affair was nothing but the +impress of my seal on France. Such skirmishes are only the vespers of my +fame." [Footnote: Napoleon's words.--See Le Normand, vol. i., p. 214.] + +Josephine felt irritated, excited by the coldness with which Napoleon +spoke of the slaughter of that day; and her eyes, otherwise so full of +gentleness, were now animated with flashes of anger. + +"Oh," cried she, "if you must purchase fame at such a price, I would +sooner you were one of the victims!" + +Bonaparte looked at her with astonishment, but as he perceived her +flushed cheeks and flashing eyes, the sight of her grace and beauty +ravished him, and a soft, pleasant smile suddenly illumined his +countenance. He answered her violent attack by a light pleasantry, and +with gladsome unaffectedness he gave to the conversation another turn. +The small, pale, gloomy general was at once changed into a young, +impassioned, amiable cavalier, whose countenance grew beautiful under +the sparkling intelligence which animated it, and whose enchanting +eloquence made his conversation attractive and lively, carrying with it +the conviction of a superior mind. + +After the visitors who had met that morning in Josephine's drawing-room +had departed the general still remained, notwithstanding the astonished +and questioning looks of the viscountess, paying no attention to her +remarks about the fine weather, or her intention to enjoy a promenade. +With rapid steps, and hands folded behind his back, he paced a few times +to and fro the room, then standing before Josephine he fixed on her face +a searching look. + +"Madame," said he, suddenly, with a kind of rough tone, "I have a +proposition to make: give me your hand. Be my wife!" + +Josephine looked at him, half-astonished, half-irritated. "Is it a joke +you are indulging in?" said she. + +"I speak in all earnestness," said Bonaparte, warmly. "Will you do me +the honor of giving me your hand?" + +The gravity with which Bonaparte spoke, the deep earnestness imprinted +on his features, convinced Josephine that the general would not +condescend to indulge in a joke of so unseemly a character, and a lovely +blush overspread the face of the viscountess. + +"Sir," said she, "who knows if I might not be inclined to accept your +distinguished offer, if, unfortunately, fate stood not in the way of +your wishes?" + +"Fate?" asked Bonaparte, with animation. + +"Yes, fate! my general," repeated Josephine, smiling. "But let us speak +no more of this. It is enough that fate forbids me to be the wife of +General Bonaparte. I can say no more, for you would laugh at me." + +"But you would laugh at me if you could turn me away with so vague +an answer," cried Bonaparte, with vivacity. "I pray you, explain the +meaning of your words." + +"Well, then, general, I cannot be your wife, for I am destined to be +Queen of France--yes, perhaps more than queen!" + +It was now Bonaparte's turn to appear astonished and irritated, and +using her own words he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Madame, is it a +joke you are indulging in?" + +"I speak in all earnestness," said Josephine, shaking her head. "Listen, +then: a negro-woman in Martinique foretold my fortune, and as her +oracular words have thus far been all fulfilled, I must conclude that +the rest of her prophecies concerning me will be realized." + +"And what has she prophesied to you?" asked Bonaparte, eagerly. + +"She has told me: 'You will one day be Queen of France! you will be +still more than queen!'" + +The general was silent. He had remained standing; but now slowly paced +the room a few times, his hands folded on his back and his head inclined +on his breast. Then again he stood before the viscountess, and his eyes +rested upon her with a wondrous bright and genial expression. + +"I bid defiance to fate," said he, somewhat solemnly. "This prophecy +does not frighten me away, and in defiance of your prophetic +negro-woman, I, the republican general, address my prayer to the future +Queen of France: be my wife!--give me your hand." + +Josephine felt almost affrighted at this pertinacity of the general, and +a sentiment of apprehension overcame her as she looked into the pale, +decided countenance of this man, a stranger to her, and who claimed her +for his wife. + +"Oh, sir," exclaimed she, with some anguish, "you offer me your hand +with as much carelessness as if the whole matter were merely for a +contra-dance. But I can assure you that marriage is a very grave matter, +which has no resemblance whatever to a gay dance. I know it is so. I +have had my sad experience, and I cannot so easily decide upon marrying +a second time." + +"You refuse my hand, then?" said Bonaparte, with a threatening tone. + +Josephine smiled. "On the contrary, general," said she, "give me your +hand and accompany me to my carriage, which has been waiting for me this +long time." + +"That means you dismiss me! You close upon me the door of your +drawing-room?" exclaimed Bonaparte, with warmth. + +She shook her head, and, bowing before him with her own irresistible +grace, she said in a friendly manner: "I am too good a patriot not to be +proud of seeing the conqueror of Toulon in my drawing-room. To-morrow I +have an evening reception, and I invite you to be present, general." + +From this day Bonaparte visited Josephine daily; she was certain to meet +him everywhere. At first she sought to avoid him, but he always knew +with cunning foresight how to baffle her efforts, and to overcome +all difficulties which she threw in his way. Was she at her friend +Therese's, she could safely reckon that General Bonaparte would soon +make his appearance and come near her with eyes beaming with joy, and in +his own energetic language speak to her of his love and hopes. Was she +to be present at the receptions of the five monarchs of Paris, it was +General Bonaparte who waited for her at the door of the hall to offer +his arm, and lead her amid the respectful, retreating, and gently +applauding crowd to her seat, where he stood by her, drawing upon her +the attention of all. Did she take a drive, at the accustomed hour, in +the Champs Elysees, she was confident soon to see General Bonaparte +on his gray horse gallop at her side, followed by his brilliant staff, +himself the object of public admiration and universal respect; and +finally, if she went to the theatre, General Bonaparte never failed to +appear in her loge, to remain near her during the performance; and when +she left, to offer his arm to accompany her to her carriage. + +It could not fail that this persevering homage of the renowned and +universally admired young general should make a deep and flattering +impression on Josephine's heart, and fill her with pride and joy. But +Josephine made resistance to this feeling; she endeavored to shield +herself from it by maternal love. + +She sent for her two children from their respective schools, and with +her nearly grown-up son on one side and her daughter budding into +maidenhood on the other, she thus presented herself to the general, +and with an enchanting smile said: "See, general, how old I am, with a +grown-up son and daughter who soon can make of me a grandmother." + +But Bonaparte with heart-felt emotion reached his hand to Eugene and +said, "A man who can call so worthy a youth as this his son, is to be +envied." + +A cunning, smiling expression of the eye revealed to Josephine that he +had understood her war-stratagem--that neither the grown-up son nor the +marriageable daughter could deter him from his object. + +Josephine at last was won by so much love and tenderness, but she could +not yet acknowledge that the wounds of her heart were closed; that once +more she could trust in happiness, and devote her life to a new love, +to a new future. She shrank timidly away from such a shaping of her +destiny; and even the persuasions of her friends and relatives, even of +the father of her deceased husband, could not bring her to a decision. + +The state of her mind is depicted in a letter which Josephine wrote +to her friend Madame de Chateau Renaud, and which describes in a great +measure the strange uncertainty of her heart: + +"You have seen General Bonaparte at my house! Well, then, he is the one +who wishes to be the father of the orphans of Alexandre de Beauharnais +and the husband of his widow. 'Do you love him?' you will ask. Well, +no!--'Do you feel any repugnance toward him?' No, but I feel in a state +of vacillation and doubt, a state very disagreeable to me, and which +the devout in religious matters consider to be the most scandalizing. As +love is a kind of worship, one ought in its presence to feel animated +by other feelings than those I now experience, and therefore I long for +your advice, which might bring the constant indecision of my mind to +a fixed conclusion. To adopt a firm course has always appeared to my +Creole nonchalance something beyond reach, and I find it infinitely more +convenient to be led by the will of another. + +"I admire the courage of the general; I am surprised at his ample +knowledge, which enables him to speak fluently on every subject; at the +vivacity of his genius, which enables him to guess at the thoughts of +others before they are expressed; but I avow, I am frightened at the +power he seems to exercise over every one who comes near him. His +searching look has something strange, which I cannot explain, but which +has a controlling influence even upon our directors; judge, therefore, +of his influence over a woman. Finally, the very thing which might +please--the violence of his passion--of which he speaks with so much +energy, and which admits of no doubt, that passion is exactly what +creates in me the unwillingness I have so often been ready to express. + +"The first bloom of youth lies behind me. Can I therefore hope that this +passion, which in General Bonaparte resembles an attack of madness, will +last long? If after our union he should cease to love me, would he not +reproach me for what he had done? Would he not regret that he had not +made another and more brilliant union? What could I then answer? What +could I do? I could weep. 'A splendid remedy!' I hear you say. I know +well that weeping is useless, but to weep has been the only resource +which I could find when my poor heart, so easily wounded, has been hurt. +Write to me a long letter, and do not fear to scold me if you think +that I am wrong. You know well that everything which comes from you is +agreeable to me." [Footnote: "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine," par +Madame Ducrest p. 362.] + +While Josephine was writing this letter to her friend, General Bonaparte +received one which produced upon him the deepest impression, though it +consisted only of a few words. But these words expressed the innermost +thought of his soul, and revealed to him perhaps for the first time its +secret wishes. + +One evening as the general, returning home from a visit to the +Viscountess Josephine, entered into his drawing-room, followed by some +of his officers and adjutants, he observed on a large timepiece, which +stood on the mantel-piece, a letter, the deep-red paper and black seal +of which attracted his attention. + +"Whence this letter?" asked he, with animation, of the servant-man +walking before him with a silver candlestick, as he pointed to the red +envelope. + +But the waiter declared that he had not seen the letter, and that he +knew not where it came from. + +"Ask the other servants, or the porter, who brought this red letter with +the black seal," ordered Bonaparte. + +The servant hurried from the room, but soon returned, with the news that +no one knew any thing about the letter; no one had seen it, no one knew +who had placed it there. + +"Well, then, let us see what it contains," said Bonaparte, and he was +going to break the seal, when Junot suddenly seized his hand and tore +the letter away from him. + +"Do not read it, general," implored Junot; "I beseech you do not open +this letter. Who knows if some of your enemies have not sent you a +letter a la Catharine de Medicis? Who knows if it is not poisoned--that +the mere touch of it may not produce death?" + +Bonaparte smiled at this solicitude of his tender friend, yet he +listened to his pressing alarms, and, instead of opening and reading the +letter, he passed it to Junot. + +"Read it yourself, if you have the courage to do so," said be, +familiarly shaking his head. + +Junot rapidly broke the black seal and tore the red paper. Then, fixing +his eyes on it, he threw it aside, and broke into loud, merry laughter. + +"Well," asked Bonaparte, "what does the letter contain?" + +"A mystery, my general--nothing more than a mystery," cried Junot, +presenting the letter to Bonaparte. + +The letter contained but these words: + +"Macbeth, you will be king. + +"THE RED MAN." + +Junot laughed over this mysterious note, but Bonaparte shared not in +his merriment. With compressed lips and frowning brow he looked at +these strange, prophetic words, as if in their characters he wanted to +discover the features of him who had dared to look into the most hidden +recesses of his soul; then he threw the paper into the chimney-fire, +and slowly and thoughtfully paced the room, while in a low voice he +murmured, "Macbeth, you will be king." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. MARRIAGE. + + +At last the conqueror of Toulon conquered also the heart of the young +widow who had so anxiously struggled against him; at last Josephine +overcame all her fears, all her terror, and, with joyous trust in the +future, was betrothed to General Bonaparte. But even then, after having +taken this decisive step, after love had cast away fear, even then she +had not the courage to reveal to her children that she had contracted +a new marriage-tie, that she was going to give to the orphans of the +Viscount de Beauharnais a new father. Ashamed and timid as a young maid, +she could not force herself into acknowledging to the children of +her deceased husband that a new love had grown in her heart--that the +mourning widow was to become again a happy woman. + +Josephine, therefore, commissioned Madame de Campan to communicate this +news to her Eugene and Hortense; to tell them that she desired not only +to have a husband, but also to give to her children a faithful, loving +father, who had promised to their mother with sacred oaths to regard, +love, and protect them as his own children. + +The children of General Beauharnais received this news with tears in +their eyes; they complained loudly and sorrowfully that their mother was +giving up the name of their father and changing it for another; that the +memory of their father would be forever lost in their mother's heart. +But, through pure love for their mother, they soon dried up these tears; +and when next day Josephine, accompanied by General Bonaparte, came to +St. Germain, to visit Madame de Campan's institution, she met there her +daughter and son, who both embraced her with the most tender affection, +and, smiling under their tears, offered their hands to General +Bonaparte, who, with all the sincerity and honesty of a deep, heart-felt +emotion, embraced them in his arms, and solemnly promised to treat them +as a father and a friend. + +All Josephine's friends did not gladly give their approbation to her +marriage with this small, insignificant general, as yet so little known, +whose success before Toulon was already forgotten, and whose victory of +the thirteenth Vendemiaire had brought him but little fame and made him +many enemies. + +Among the friends who in this union with Bonaparte saw very little +happiness for Josephine was her lawyer, the advocate Ragideau, who for +many years had been her family's agent, whose distinguished talent for +pleading and whose small figure had made him known through all Paris, +and of whom it was said that as a man he was but a dwarf; but as a +lawyer, he was a giant. + +One day, in virtue of an invitation from the Viscountess de Beauharnais, +Ragideau came to the small hotel of the rue Chautereine, and sent his +name to the viscountess. She received his visit, and at his entrance +into her cabinet all those present retreated into the drawing-room +contiguous thereto, as they well knew that Josephine had some business +transactions with her lawyer. + +Only one small, pale man, in modest gray clothing, whom Ragideau did +not condescend to notice, remained in the cabinet, who retired quietly +within the recess of a window. + +Josephine received her business agent with a friendly smile, and spoke +long and in detail with him concerning a few important transactions +which had reference to her approaching marriage. Then suddenly passing +from the coldness of a business conversation to the tone of a friendly +one, she asked M. Ragideau what the world said of her second marriage. + +Ragideau shrugged his shoulders and assumed a thoughtful attitude. "Your +friends, madame," said he, "see with sorrow that you are going to marry +a soldier, who is younger than yourself, who possesses nothing but his +salary, and therefore cannot leave the service; or, if he is killed in +battle, leaves you perhaps with children, and without an inheritance." + +"Do you share the opinion of my friends, my dear M. Ragidean?" asked +Josephine, smiling. + +"Yes," said the lawyer, earnestly, "yes, I share them--yes. I am not +satisfied that you should contract such a marriage. You are rich, +madame; you possess a capital which secures you a yearly income of +twenty-five thousand francs; with such an income you had claims to a +brilliant marriage; and I feel conscientiously obliged, as your friend +and business agent, in whom you have trusted, and who has for you the +deepest interest, to earnestly remonstrate with you while there is +yet time. Consider it well, viscountess; it is a reckless step you are +taking, and I entreat you not to do it. I speak to your own advantage. +General Bonaparte may be a very good man, possibly quite a distinguished +soldier, but certain it is he has only his hat and his sword to offer +you." + +Josephine now broke into a joyous laugh, and her beaming eyes turned to +the young man there who, with his back turned to the party, stood at the +window beating the panes with his fingers, apparently heedless of their +conversation. + +"General," cried out Josephine, cheerfully, "have you heard what M. +Ragideau says?" + +Bonaparte turned slowly round, and his large eyes fell with a flaming +look upon the little advocate. + +"Yes," said he, gravely, "I have heard all. M. Ragideau has spoken as an +honest man, and every thing he has said fills me with esteem for him. I +trust he will continue to be our agent, for I feel inclined to give him +full confidence." + +He bowed kindly to the little lawyer, who stood there bewildered and +ashamed, and, offering his arm to Josephine, Bonaparte led her into the +drawing-room. [Footnote: The little advocate Ragideau remained after +this Josephine's agent. When Bonaparte had become emperor, he appointed +Ragideau notary of the civil list, and always manifested the greatest +interest in his behalf, and never by a word or a look did he remind him +of the strange circumstance which brought about their acquaintance.--See +Meneval. "Napoleon et Marie Louise," vol. i., p. 202.] + +The decisive word had been spoken: Josephine de Beauharnais was now the +bride of General Bonaparte. His hitherto pale, gloomy countenance was +all radiant with the bright light of love and happiness. The days of +solitude and privations were forgotten; the young, beautiful Desiree +Clary, whom Bonaparte so much loved a few months ago, and the amiable +Madame Permont, were also forgotten (and yet to the latter, in her loge +at the theatre, as a farce between acts, he had offered his hand); all +the little love-intrigues of former days were forgotten; to Josephine +alone belonged his heart, her alone he loved with all the impassioned +glow and depth of a first exclusive love. + +But yet, now and then, clouds darkened his large pensive brow; even her +smile could not always illumine the gloomy expression on his features; +it would happen that, plunged in deep, sad cogitations, he heard not the +question which she addressed him in her remarkably soft and clear voice +which Bonaparte so much loved. + +His lofty pride felt humiliated and disgraced by the part he was now +performing. + +He was the general of the army of the interior, but beyond the frontiers +of France there stood another French army, whose soldiers had not the +sad mission to maintain peace and quietness at home, to fight against +brothers; but an army seeking for the foe, whose blood and victories +were to secure them laurels. + +General Bonaparte longed to be with this army, and to obliterate the +remembrance of the 13th Vendemiaire and its sad victory by brilliant +exploits beyond the Alps. It was also to him a humiliating and +depressing feeling to become the husband of a wealthy woman, and not +bring her as a glorious gift or a wedding-present the fame and laurels +of a husband. + +It has often been said that Josephine obtained for her husband, as +a wedding-gift, his appointment of commanding general of the army in +Italy; that she procured this appointment from Barras, with whom, before +her acquaintance with Bonaparte, she had been in closer relationship +than that of mere friendship. Even such historians as Schlosser have +accepted this calumny as truth, without taking pains to investigate +whether the facts justified this supposition. In the great historical +events which have shaken nations, it is really of little importance if, +under the light which illumines and brings out such events, a shadow +should fall and darken an individual. Even the hatred and scorn with +which a nation, trodden down in the dust, curses a tyrant, and endeavors +to take vengeance on his fame, ask not if the stone flung at the hated +one falls upon other heads than the one aimed at. + +Not Josephine, but Bonaparte, did they wish to injure when stating she +had been the beloved of Barras. It was Bonaparte whom they wished to +humble and mortify, when historians published that, not to his merits, +but to the petitions of his wife, he was indebted for his commission as +general of the army in Italy. + +But truth justifies not this calumny; and when with the light of truth +the path of the widow of General Beauharnais is lighted, it will be +found that this path led to solitude and quietness; that at none of the +great and brilliant banquets which Barras then gave, and which in the +Moniteur are described with so much pomp, not once is, the name of +Viscountess de Beauharnais mentioned; that in the numerous pasquinades +and lampoons which then appeared in Paris and in all France, and in +which all private life was fathomed, not once is the name of Josephine +brought out, neither is there any indirect allusion to her. + +Calumny has placed this stain on Josephine's brow, but truth takes it +away. And that truth is, that not Josephine, but Bonaparte, was the +friend of Barras; that it was not Barras, but Carnot, who promoted +Bonaparte to the rank of commanding general of the army in Italy. + +Carnot, the minister of war of the republic, the noble, incorruptible +republican, whose character, pure, bright, and true as steel, turned +aside all the darts of wickedness and calumny, which could not inflict +even a wound, or leave a stain on the brilliancy of his spotless +character, has given upon this point his testimony in a refutation. At +a later period, when the hatred of parties, and the events of the 18th +Fructidor, had forced him to flee from France, he defended himself +against the accusation launched at him in the Council of the Five +Hundred, which pointed him out as a traitor to the republic; and this +defence gave a detailed account of the whole time of his administration, +and especially what he achieved for the republic, claiming as one of his +services the appointment of Bonaparte. + +"It is not true," says he, "that Barras proposed Bonaparte for the chief +command of the army in Italy. I myself did it. But time was allowed to +intervene, so as to ascertain whether Bonaparte would succeed before +Barras congratulated himself, and then only to his confidants, that it +was he who had made this proposition to the Directory. Had Bonaparte +not answered the expectations, then I should have been the one to +blame: then it would have been I who had chosen a young, inexperienced, +intriguing man; and I who had betrayed the nation, for the other members +did not interfere in war-matters; upon me all responsibility would +have fallen. But as Bonaparte is victorious, then it must be Barras +who appointed him! To Barras alone are the people indebted for this +nomination! He is Bonaparte's protector, his defender against my +attacks! I am jealous of Bonaparte; I cross him in all his plans; I +lower his character; I persecute him; I refuse him all assistance; I, in +all probability, am to plunge him into ruin!"--such were the calumnies +which at that time filled the journals bribed by Barras. [Footnote: +"Response de L. N. M. Carnot, citoyen francais, l'un des fondateurs +de la republique, et membre constitutionnel du Directoire executif an +rapport fait sur la conjuration du 18 Fructidor an conseil des Cinq +Cents."] + +To Carnot, the secretary of war of the republic, did Bonaparte go, to +ask of him the command of the army in Italy. But Carnot answered him, as +he had already before Aubry, the minister of war, "You are too young." + +"Let us put appearances and age aside," said Bonaparte, impatiently. +"Alexander, Scipio, Conde, and many others, though still younger than +I, marched armies to brilliant conquests, and decided the fate of whole +kingdoms. I believe I have given a few proofs of what I can achieve, if +I am set at the right place; and I burn with great longing to serve my +country, to obtain victories over despots who hate France because they +fear, calumniate, and envy her!" + +"I know you are a good patriot," said Carnot, slowly turning his head; +"I know and appreciate your services, and you may rest assured that +the obstacles which I place in your path are not directed against you +personally. But do you know the situation of our army? It is devoured +by the quartermaster; betrayed and sold, I fear, by its general, and +demoralized, notwithstanding its successes! That army needs every thing, +even discipline, whilst the enemy's army has all that we need. We want +nearly a miracle to be victorious. Whoever is to lead to success our +disordered, famished, disorganized army must, above all things, possess +its full confidence. Besides which, without further events, I cannot +dismiss the commanding general, Scherer, but I must wait until some +new disgrace furnishes me the right to do so. You know all. Judge for +yourself." + +"I have already made all these objections within my own mind," replied +Bonaparte, quietly; "yet I do not despair that if you will give me your +advice and assistance, I will overcome all these difficulties. Listen to +me, and I will let you know my plan for the arrangement of the war, and +I am convinced you will give it your sanction." + +With glowing eloquence, complete clearness and assurance, and the +convincing quietude of a persuaded, all-embracing, all-weighing mind, +Bonaparte unfolded the daring and astounding plan of his campaign. As he +spoke, his face brightened more and more, his eyes glowed with the +fire of inspiration, his countenance beamed with that exalted, wondrous +beauty which is granted to genius alone in the highest moments of its +ecstasy; the small, insignificant, pale young man became the bold, +daring hero, who was fully prepared gladly to tread a world under his +feet. + +Carnot, who had looked on in astonishment, was finally carried away, +inspired by the persuasive eloquence of the young general, who in a +few words understood how to map out battle-fields, to measure whole +engagements, and to give to every one the needful and appropriate place. + +"You are right," cried Carnot, delighted, and offering his hand to +Bonaparte. "This plan must be carried out, and then we shall conquer our +enemies. I no longer doubt of the result, and from this moment you can +rely upon me. You shall be commander-in-chief of the army in Italy. I +will myself propose you to the Directory, and I will so warmly speak +in your favor, that my request will be granted." [Footnote: "Memoires +historiques et militaires, sur Carnot," vol. ii.] + +On this day the face of General Bonaparte was irradiated with a still +deeper lustre than when Josephine avowed that his love was returned, and +when she consented to be his. + +Josephine's affianced, in the depths of his heart, retained a deep, +unfulfilled desire, an unreached aim of his existence. The commanding +general of the army in Italy had nothing more to wish, or to long +for; he now stood at hope's summit, and saw before him the brilliant, +glorious goal of ambition toward which the path lay open before him. + +Love alone could not satisfy the heart of Napoleon; the larger portion +of it belonged to ambition--to the lust for a warrior's fame. + +"I am going to live only for the future," said Bonaparte, that day, to +Junot, as he related to him the successful result of his interview with +Carnot. "None of you know me yet, but you will soon. You will see what +I can do: I feel within me something which urges me onward. Too long has +the war been limited to a single district; I will take it into the heart +of the continent, I will bring it on fresh soil, and so carry it out +that the men of habit will lose their footing, and the old officers +their heads, so that they will no more know where they are. The soldiers +will see what one man, with a will of iron, can accomplish. All this +I will do--and from this day I strike out from the dictionary the word +'impossible!'" + +Carnot was true to his word. On the 23d day of February, 1796, Bonaparte +was appointed by the Directory commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. + +From the face of the young general beamed forth the smile of victory; +he was now certain of the future! He now knew that to his Josephine he +could offer more than a hat and a sword, that he would bring her undying +fame and victory's brilliant crown. This was to be the dowry before +which the twenty-five thousand francs' yearly income, which the little +giant Ragideau had so highly prized, would fall into the background. + +On the 9th of March the marriage between General Bonaparte and the widow +Viscountess Josephine de Beauharnais took place. Barras, as member of +the government, was Bonaparte's first witness; his second was Captain +Lemarrois, his adjutant; and the choice of this witness was a delicate +homage which Napoleon paid to his dear Josephine: for Lemarrois was the +one who had first led the boy Eugene to Bonaparte, and had thus been the +means of his acquaintance with Josephine. + +The two witnesses of Josephine were Tallien, who had delivered her from +prison, and to whom she owed the restoration of her property, and a +M. Calmelet, an old friend and counsellor of the Beauharnais family. +[Footnote: "Souvenirs historiques du Baron de Meneval," vol. i., p. +340.] + +In the pure modesty of her heart, Josephine had not desired that the two +children of her deceased husband should be the witnesses of her second +marriage, and Bonaparte was glad that Josephine's bridal wreath would +not be bedewed with the tears of memory. + +On this happy day of Bonaparte's marriage, so much of the past was set +aside, that the certificate of baptism of the betrothed was forgotten, +and the number of years which made Josephine older than Bonaparte was +struck out. + +The civil record, which M. Leclerc received of the marriage of Bonaparte +and Josephine, describes them as being nearly of the same age, for it +ran thus: "Napoleon Bonaparte, born in Ajaccio, on the 5th of February, +1768; and Marie Josephe Rosa Tascher de la Pagerie, born in Martinique, +the 23d of June, 1767." + +Bonaparte's glowing and impassioned love led him--in order to spare his +Josephine the smallest, degree of humiliation--to alter and destroy the +dates of the certificate of their baptism; for Bonaparte was born on the +15th of August, 1769, and Josephine on the 23d of June, 1763. She was +consequently six years older than he; but she knew not that these six +years would, one day, be the abyss which was to swallow her happiness, +her love, her grandeur. + +Two days after his marriage with Josephine, Bonaparte left Paris for the +army, to travel in haste, an uninterrupted journey toward Italy. + +"I must hasten to my post," said he smiling to Josephine, "for an +army without a chief is like a widow who can commit foolish deeds and +endanger her reputation. I am responsible for the army's conduct from +the moment of my appointment." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. BONAPARTE'S LOVE-LETTERS. + + +Carnot had told Bonaparte the truth concerning the state of the army in +Italy. His statements were sustained by the proclamation which the new +commander-in-chief of the army in Italy addressed to his soldiers, as +for the first time he welcomed them at Nice. + +"Soldiers," said he, "you are naked and badly fed; the government owes +you much, and can give you nothing. Your patience and the courage you +have exhibited amid these rocks are worthy of admiration; but you gain +no fame: no glory falls upon you here. I will lead you into the fertile +plains of the world; rich provinces and large cities will fall into +your power; there you will find honor, fame, and abundance. Soldiers of +Italy, would you fail in courage and perseverance?" [Footnote: Norvins, +"Histoire de Napoleon," vol. i., p. 89.] + +The mangled, ragged, half-starved soldiers answered with loud +enthusiastic shouts. When the vivats had died away, an old veteran +came out of the ranks, and with countenance half-defiant, half-smiling, +looking at the little general, he asked: "General, what must we do +that the roasted partridges, which are promised to us, may fly into our +mouths?" + +"Conquer," cried Bonaparte, with a loud resounding voice--"conquer! +To the brave, glory and good repasts! To the coward, disgrace! To the +faint-hearted, misery! I will lead you into the path of victory. Will +you follow?" + +"We will, we will!" shouted the soldiers. "Long live the little general +who is to deliver us from our wretchedness, who is to lead us into +victory's path!" + +Bonaparte kept his word. He led them to Voltri, to the bridge of Arcola, +to Lodi. But amid his wild career of fights, hardships, vigils, studies, and +perils, the thought of Josephine was the guiding star of his heart. +His mind was with her amid the battle's storm; he thought of her in +the camp, on the march, in the greatest conflict, and after the most +brilliant victories. This was shown in the letters he wrote every day +to Josephine; and in the brilliant hymns which the warrior, amid the +carnage of war, sung with the enthusiastic fervor of a poet to his love +and to his happiness. + +It is the mission of eminent historians, when describing his victorious +campaign of Italy, to narrate his conquests; our mission is simply to +observe him in his conduct toward Josephine, and to show how under the +uniform of the warrior beat the heart of the lover. + +The letters which Bonaparte then wrote to Josephine are consequently +what concerns us most, and from which we will select a few as a proof of +the impassioned love which Napoleon felt for his young wife. + +LETTERS OF GENERAL BONAPARTE TO JOSEPHINE. + +I. "PORT MAURICE, the 14th Germinal (April 3), 1796. + +"I have received all your letters, but none has made so much impression +on me as the last one. How can you, my adored friend, speak to me in +that way? Do you not believe that my situation here is already horrible +enough, without your exciting my longings, and still more setting my +soul in rebellion? What a style! what emotions you describe! They glow +like fire, they burn my poor heart! My own Josephine, away from you, +there is no joy; away from you, the world is a wilderness in which I +feel alone, and have no one in whom I can confide. You have taken from +me more than my soul; you are the only thought of my life. When I feel +weary with the burden of affairs, when I dread some inauspicious result, +when men oppose me, when I am ready to curse life itself, I place my +hand upon my heart, your image beats there; I gaze on it, and love is +for me absolute bliss, and everything smiles except when I am away from +my beloved. + +"By what art have you been able to enchain all my powers, and to +concentrate in yourself all my mental existence? It is an enchantment, +my dear friend, which is to end only with my life. To live for +Josephine, such is the history of my life! I am working to return to +you, I am dying to approach you! Fool that I am, I see not that I am +more and more drifting away from you! How much space, how many mountains +separate us! how long before you can read these words, the feeble +expression of a throbbing soul in which you rule! Ah, my adored wife, I +know not what future awaits me, but if it keeps me much longer away from +you, it will be intolerable; my courage reaches not that far. There was +a time when I was proud of my reputation; and sometimes when I cast +my eyes on the wrong which men could have done me, on the fate which +Providence might have in reserve for me, I prepared myself for the most +unheard-of adversities without wrinkling the brow or suffering fear; but +now the thought that my Josephine should be uncomfortable, or sick, +or, above all, the cruel, horrible thought that she might love me +less, makes my soul tremble, and my blood to remain still, bringing +on sadness, despondency, and taking away even the courage of anger and +despair. In times past I used to say, 'Men have no power over him who +dies without regret.' But now to die without being loved by you, to die +without the certainty of being loved, is for me the pains of hell, the +living, fearful feeling of complete annihilation. It is as if I were +going to suffocate! My own companion, you whom fate has given me, to +make life's painful journey, the day when no more I can call your heart +mine, when nature will be for me without warmth, without vitality. ... I +will give way, my sweet friend (ma douce amie); my soul is sorrowful, my +body languishes; men weary me. I have a good right to detest them, for +they keep me away from my heart. + +"I am now in Port Maurice, near to Oneglia; to-morrow I go to Albenga. +Both armies are moving forward; we are endeavoring to deceive each +other. Victory belongs to the swiftest. I am well satisfied with General +Beaulieu, he manoeuvres well; he is a stronger man than his predecessor. +I trust to beat him soundly. Be without care; love me as your eyes; +but no, that is not enough, as yourself, more than yourself, as your +thoughts, as your spirit, your life, your all! Sweet friend, pardon me; +I am beyond myself; nature is too weak for him who feels with passion, +for him whom you love. + +"To Barras, Sucy, Madame Tallien, my heart-felt friendship; to Madame +Chateau Renaud, kindest regards; for Eugene and Hortense, my true love. +N. B." + +II. "ALBENGA, the 18th Germinal (April 7), 1796 [Footnote: The three +following letters have never been published until recently, and are not +to be found in any collection of letters from Napoleon and Josephine, +not even among those published by Queen Hortense: "Lettres de Napoleon a +Josephine, et de Josephine a Napoleon." They are published for the first +time in the "Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," by Aubenas, and were +communicated to this author in Napoleon's manuscript by the well-known +and famous gatherer of autographs, Feuillet de Couches.] + +"I have just now received your letter, which you break off, as you say, +to go to the country; and then, you assume a tone as if you were envious +of me, who am here nearly overwhelmed by affairs and by exertion! Ah, my +dear friend, ... it is true, I am wrong. In the spring it is so pleasant +in the country; and then the beloved one of eighteen years will be so +happy there; how would it be possible to lose one moment for the sake +of writing to him who is three hundred miles away from you, who lives, +breathes, exists only in remembering you, who reads your letters as a +man, after hunting for six hours, devours a meal he is fond of. + +"I am satisfied. Your last letter is cold, like friendship. I have not +found in it the fire which glows in your eyes, the fire which I have +at least imagined to be there. So far runs my fancy. I found that your +first letters oppressed my soul too much; the revolution which they +created in me disturbed my peace and bewildered my senses. I wanted +letters more cold, and now they bring on me the chill of death. The +fear of being no more loved by Josephine--the thought of having her +inconstant--of seeing her ... But I martyrize myself with anguish! There +is enough in the reality, without imagining any more! You cannot have +inspired me with this immeasurable love without sharing it; and with +such a soul, such thoughts, such an understanding as you possess, it +is impossible that, as a reward for the most glowing attachment and +devotion, you should return a mortal blow. ... + +"You say nothing of your bodily sufferings; they have my regret. +Farewell till to-morrow, mio dolce amor. From my own wife a thought--and +from fate a victory; these are all my wishes: one sole, undivided +thought from you, worthy of him who every moment thinks of you. + +"My brother is here. He has heard of my marriage with pleasure. He longs +to become acquainted with you. I am endeavoring to persuade him to go to +Paris, His wife has recently given birth to a daughter. They send you +a box of bonbons from Genoa as a present. You will receive oranges, +perfumes, and water of orange-flowers, which I send you. Junot and Murat +send their best wishes. + +"N. B." + +The victory which Bonaparte implored from his destiny was soon to take +place; and the battle of Mondovi, which followed the capitulation of +Cherasco, made Bonaparte master of Piedmont and of the passes of the +Alps. He sent his brother Joseph to Paris, to lay before the Directory +pressing considerations concerning the necessity and importance of +concluding a permanent peace with the King of Sardinia, so as to isolate +Austria entirely in Italy. At the same time Junot was to take to the +Directory the conquered standards. Joseph and Junot travelled together +from Nice by means of post-horses, and they made so rapid a journey that +in one hundred and twenty hours they reached Paris. + +The victor's messengers and the conquered flags were received in Paris +with shouts of rapture, and with a glowing enthusiasm for General +Bonaparte. His name was on every tongue. In the streets and on the +squares crowds gathered together to talk of the glorious news, and to +shout their acclamations to the brave army and its general. Even the +Directory, the five monarchs of France, shared the universal joy and +enthusiasm. They received Joseph and Junot with affable complacency, and +communicated to the army and to its general public eulogies. In honor +of the messengers who had brought the standards and the propositions of +peace, they gave a brilliant banquet; and Carnot, proud of having been +the one who had brought about Bonaparte's appointment, went so far in +his enthusiasm as at the close of the banquet to tear his garments open +and exhibit to the assembled guests Napoleon's portrait which he carried +on his breast. + +"Tell your brother," cried he to Joseph, "that I carry him here on my +heart, for I foresee he will be the deliverer of France, and therefore +he must know that in the Directory he has only admirers and friends." +[Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 62.] + +But something else, more glorious than these salutations of love from +France and from the Directory, was to be brought back by his messengers +to the victorious commander-his wife, his Josephine; he claimed her +as the reward of battles won. Joseph was not only the messenger of the +general, he was also the messenger of the lover; and before delivering +his papers to the Directory, he had first, as Bonaparte had ordered him, +to deliver to Josephine his letter which called her to Milan. Napoleon +had thus written to her: + +III. "TO MY SWEET FRIEND! + +"CAEN, the 3rd Floreal (May 24), 1796. + +"My brother will hand you this letter. I cherish for him the most +intimate friendship. I trust he will also gain your affection. He +deserves it. Nature has gifted him with a tender and inexhaustibly good +character; he is full of rare qualities. I write to Barras to have +him appointed consul to some Italian port. He desires to live with his +little wife away from the world's great stream of events. I recommend +him to you. + +"I have received your letters of the 16th and of the 21st. You have +indeed for many days forgotten to write. What, then, are you doing? Yes, +my dear friend, I am not exactly jealous, but I am sometimes uneasy. +Hasten, then, for I tell you beforehand that if you delay I shall be +sick. So great exertion, combined with your absence, is too much. + +"Your letters are the joys of my days, and my happy days are not too +many. Junot takes to Paris twenty-two standards. You will come back with +him, will you not? .... Misery without remedy, sorrow without comfort, +unmitigated anguish, will be my portion if it is my misfortune to +see him come back alone, my own adored wife! He will see you, he will +breathe at your shrine, and perhaps you will even grant him the special +and unsurpassed privilege of kissing your cheeks, and I, I will be far, +far away! You will come here, at my side, to my heart, in my arms! +Take wings, come, come! Yet, journey slowly; the road is long, bad, +fatiguing! If your carriage were to upset, if some calamity were to +happen, if the exertion. ... Set out at once, my beloved one, but travel +slowly! + +"I have received a letter from Hortense, a very acceptable one indeed. +I am going to answer it. I love her much, and will soon send her the +perfumes she desires. N. B." + +But Josephine could not meet at once the ardent wishes of her husband. +She had, on the receipt of his letter, made with Joseph all the +necessary preparations for the journey; but the ailment which had so +long troubled her, broke out, and a violent illness prostrated her. + +Bonaparte's suffering and anger at this news were unbounded; a terrible +restlessness and anxiety took possession of him, and, to obtain speedy +and reliable news from Josephine, he sent from Milan to Paris a special +courier, whose only business it was to carry a letter to Josephine. + +The general had nothing to communicate to the Directory; it was only +the lover writing to his beloved! What fire, what energy of passion, +penetrated him, is evident from the following letter: + +IV. "TORTONA, at noon, the 27th Prairial, + +"In the Year IV. of the Republic (15th June, 1796). + +"To Josephine: My life is a ceaseless Alpine burden. An oppressive +foreboding prevents me from breathing. I live no more, I have lost more +than life, more than happiness, more than rest! I am without hope. I +send you a courier. He will remain only four hours in Paris, and return +with your answer. Write me only ten lines; they will be some comfort +to me. ... You are sick, you love me, I have troubled you; you are +pregnant, and I cannot see you. This thought bewilders me. I have done +you so much wrong, that I know not how to make amends for it. I found +fault because you remained in Paris, and you were sick! Forgive me, my +beloved. The passion you have inspired in me has taken my reason away; I +cannot find it again. One is never cured of this evil. My contemplations +are so horrible, that it would be a satisfaction to see you; to press +you for two hours to my heart, and then, to die together! Who takes care +of you? I imagine that you have sent for Hortense. I love this child +a thousand times more, when I think she can comfort you somewhat. As +regards myself, there will be no solace, no rest, no hope, before the +courier whom I have sent to you has returned, and you have told me in a +long letter the cause of your illness, and how serious it is. I tell +you beforehand that if it is dangerous I will at once go to Paris. +My presence would be called for by your sickness. I have always been +fortunate. Never has Fate stood against my wishes, and to-day it strikes +me where only wounds are possible. Josephine, how can you delay so long +in writing to me? Your last laconic note is dated the 3d of this month, +and this adds to my sorrow. Yet I have it always in my pocket. Your +portrait and your letters are always under my eyes. + +"I am nothing without you. I can scarcely understand how I have lived +without knowing you. Ah, Josephine, if you know my heart, could you +remain without writing from the 29th of May to the 16th of June, and not +travel hither? Have you lent an ear to faithless friends, who wish to +keep you away from me? I am angry with the whole world; I accuse every +one round about you. I had calculated that you would leave on the 5th, +and be at Milan on the 15th. + +"Josephine, if you love me, if you believe that all depends on the +recovery of your health, take good care of yourself. I dare not tell you +not to undertake so long a journey--not to travel in the heat, if +you possibly can move. Make small journeys; write to me at every +stopping-place, and send me each time your letters by a courier. ... +Your sickness troubles me by night and by day. Without appetite or +sleep, without regard for friendship, reputation, or country!--you and +you alone! The rest of the world exists no more for me than if it were +sunk into oblivion. I still cling to honor, for you hold to it; to fame, +for it is a joy to you; if it were not for this, I would have abandoned +every thing to hasten to your feet. + +"Sometimes, I say to myself: 'I trouble myself without cause, she is +already well, she has left Paris and is on the way, she is perhaps in +Lyons.' ... Fruitless deception! You are in your bed, suffering--more +interesting--more worthy of adoration; you are pale, and your eyes are +more languishing than ever! when you are well again, if one of us is +to be sick, cannot I be the one? for I am stronger, I have more vital +power, and would therefore sooner conquer sickness. Fate is cruel, it +strikes me through you. + +"What sometimes comforts me is to know that on fate depends your +sickness, but that it depends on no one to oblige me to outlive you. + +"Be careful, my dearly-beloved one, to tell me in your letter that you +are convinced that I love you above all that can be conceived; that +never has it come to me to think of other women; that they are all in my +eyes without grace, beauty, or wit; that you, you entirely, you as I +see you, as you are, can please me and fetter all the powers of my soul; +that you have grasped it in all its immeasurableness; that my heart has +no folds closed from your eyes, no thoughts which belong not to you; +that my energies, arms, mind, every thing in me, is subject to you; that +my spirit lives in your body; that the day when you will be inconstant +or when you will cease to live, will be the day of my death, and that +nature and earth are beautiful to my eyes only because you live in them. +If you do not believe all this, if your soul is not convinced of it, +penetrated with it, then I am deceived in you, then you love me no more. +A magnetic fluid runs between persons who love one another. You know +that I could never see, much less could I endure, a lover: to see him +and to tear his heart would be one and the same thing; and then I might +even lay hands on your sacred person.... no, I would never dare do it, +but I would fly from a world where those I deem the most virtuous have +deceived me. + +"But I am certain of your love, and proud of it. Accidents are +probations which keep alive all the energies of our mutual affections. +My adored one, you will give birth to a child resembling his mother; +it will pass many years in your arms. Unfortunate that I am, I would be +satisfied with one day! A thousand kisses on your eyes and lips! .... +adored wife, how mighty is your spell! I am ill on account of your +illness. I have a burning fever. Retain the courier no longer than +six hours; then let him return, that he may bring me a letter from my +sovereign. N. B." + +These were the first letters which Josephine received from her loving, +tender husband. They are a splendid monument of affection with which +love adorns the solitary grave of the departed empress; and surely in +the dark hours of her life, the remembrance of these days of happiness, +of these letters so full of passionate ardor, must have alleviated the +bitterness of her grief and given her the consolation that at least she +was once loved as perhaps no other woman on earth can boast! All these +letters of Bonaparte, during the days of his first prosperity, and of +his earnest cravings, Josephine had carefully gathered; they were to be, +amid the precious and costly treasures which the future was to lay at +her feet, the most glorious and most prized, and which she preserved +with sacred loyalty as long as she lived. + +This is the reason that, out of all the letters which Bonaparte wrote +to Josephine during long years, not one is lost; that there is no gap in +the correspondence, and that we can with complete certainty, from week +to week and year to year, follow the relations which existed between +them, and that the thermometer can be placed on Bonaparte's heart +to observe how by degrees the heat diminishes, the warmth of passion +disappears into the cool temperature of a quiet friendship, and how it +never sinks to cold indifference, even when Josephine had to yield to +the young and proud daughter of Austria, and give up her place at the +side of the emperor. + +Of all the letters of Josephine to Bonaparte, which were now so glowing +that they seemed to devour him with flames of fire and bewildered his +senses, and then so cold and indifferent that they caused the chill of +death to pass over his frame--of all these, not one has been preserved +to posterity. Perhaps the Emperor Napoleon destroyed them; when in the +Tuileries he received Josephine's successor, his second wife, and +when he endeavored to destroy in his own proud heart the memory of the +beautiful, happy past, he there destroyed those letters, that they might +return to dust, even as his own love had returned. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. + + +Bonaparte's letter, which the courier brought to Josephine, found her +recovered, and ready to follow her husband's call, and go to Milan. +But she was deprived of one precious and joyous hope: the child, which +Bonaparte so much envied because it would pass many years in Josephine's +arms, was never to be born. + +In the last days of the month of June Josephine arrived in Milan. Her +whole journey had been one uninterrupted triumph. In Turin, at the court +of the King of Sardinia, she had received the homage of the people as +if she were the wife of a mighty ruler; and wherever she went, she was +received with honors and distinction. To Turin Bonaparte had sent before +him one of his adjutants, General Marmont, afterward Duke de Ragusa, to +convey to her his kindest regards and to accompany her with a military +escort as far as Milan. In the palace de Serbelloni, his residence in +Milan, adorned as for a feast, Bonaparte received her with a countenance +radiant with joy and happy smiles such as seldom brightened his pale, +gloomy features. + +But Bonaparte had neither much time nor leisure to devote to his +domestic happiness, to his long-expected reunion with Josephine. Only +three days could the happy lover obtain from the restless commander; +then he had to tear himself away from his sweet repose, to carry +on further the deadly strife which he had begun in Italy against +Austria--which had decided not to give away one foot of Lombardy without +a struggle--and not to submit to the conqueror of Lodi. A new army +was marched into Italy under the command of General Wurmser, the same +against whom, three years before, on the shores of the Rhine, Alexandre +de Beauharnais had fought in vain. At the head of sixty thousand men +Wurmser moved into Italy to relieve Mantua, besieged by the French. + +This alarming news awoke Bonaparte out of his dream of love, and neither +Josephine's tears nor prayers could keep him back. He sent couriers to +Paris, to implore from the Directory fresh troops and more money, to +continue the campaign. The Directory answered him with the proposition +to divide the army of Italy into two columns, one of which would act +under the commander-in-chief, General Kellermann, the other under +Bonaparte. + +But this proposition, which the jealous Directory made for the sake of +breaking the growing power of Bonaparte, only served to lift him a step +higher in his path to the brilliant career which he alone, in the depths +of his heart, had traced, and the secret of which his closed lips would +reveal to no one. + +Bonaparte's answer to this proposition of the Directory was, that if +the power were to be divided, he could only refuse the half of this +division, and would retire entirely from command. + +He wrote to Carnot: "It is a matter of indifference to me whether I +carry on the war here or elsewhere. To serve my country, and deserve +from posterity one page of history, is all my ambition! If both I and +Kellermann command in Italy, then all is lost. General Kellermann has +more experience than I, and will carry on the war more ably. But the +matter can only be badly managed if we both command. It is no pleasure +for me to serve with a man whom Europe considers the first general of +the age." + +Carnot showed this letter to the Directory, and declared that if +Bonaparte were to be given up, he would himself resign his position of +secretary of war. The Directory was not prepared to accept this twofold +responsibility, and they sacrificed Kellermann to the threats of +Napoleon and Carnot. + +General Bonaparte was confirmed in his position of commander-in-chief of +the army in Italy, even for the future, and the conduct of the war was +left in his hands alone. + +With this fresh triumph over his enemies at home, Bonaparte marched from +Milan to fight the re-enforced enemy of France in Italy. + +On this new war-path, amid dangers and conflicts, the tumults of the +fight, the noise of the camp, the confusion of the bivouac, the young +general did not for one moment forget the wife he so passionately loved. +Nearly every day he wrote to her, and those letters, which were often +written between the dictation of the battle's plan, the dispatches to +the Directory, and the impending conflict, were faithful waymarks, whose +directions it is easy to follow, and thus trace the whole successful +course of the hero of Italy. + +To refer here to Bonaparte's letters to Josephine, implies at once the +mention of Bonaparte's deeds and of Josephine's happiness. The first +letter which he wrote after the interview in Milan is from Roverbella, +and it tells her in a few words that he has just now beaten the foe, +and that he is going to Verona. The second is also short and hastily +written, but is full of many delicate assurances of love, and also that +he has met and defeated the foe at Verona. The third letter is from +Marmirolo, and shows that Bonaparte, notwithstanding his constant +changes of position, had taken the precautions that Josephine's letters +should everywhere follow him; for in Marmirolo he received one, and this +tender letter filled him with so much joy, thanks, and longings, that, +in virtue of it, he forgets conquests and triumphs entirely, and is only +the longing, tender lover. He writes: + +"MARMIROLO, the 29th Messidor, 9 in the evening" (July 17), 1796. + +"I am just now in receipt of your letter, my adored one; it has filled +my heart with joy. I am thankful for the pains you have taken to send me +news about yourself; with your improved health, all will be well; I am +convinced that you have now recovered. I would impress upon you the duty +of riding often; this will be a healthy exercise for you. + +"Since I left you I am forever sorrowful. My happiness consists in being +near you. Constantly does my memory renew your kisses, your tears, your +amiable jealousy; and the charms of the incomparable Josephine kindle +incessantly a burning flame within my heart and throughout my senses. +When shall I, free from all disturbance and care, pass all my moments +with you, and have nothing to do but to love, nothing to think of but +the happiness to tell it and prove it to you? I am going to send you +your horse, and I trust you will soon be able to be with me. A few days +ago I thought I loved you, but since I have seen you again, I feel that +I love you a thousand times more. Since I knew you, I worship you more +and more every day; this proves the falsity of La Bruyere's maxim, which +says that love springs up all at once. Every thing in nature has its +growth in different degrees. Ah, I implore you, let me see some of your +faults; be then less beautiful, less graceful, less tender, less good; +especially be never tender, never weep: your tears deprive me of my +reason, and change my blood into fire. Believe me, that it is not in my +power to have a single thought which concerns you not, or an idea which +is not subservient to you. + +"Keep very quiet. Recover soon your health. Come to me, that at least +before dying we may say, 'We were happy so many, many days!' + +"Millions of kisses even for Fortune, notwithstanding its naughtiness. +[Footnote: Fortune was that little peevish dog which, when Josephine +was in prison, served as love-messenger between her and her children.] +BONAPARTE." + +But this letter, full of tenderness and warmth, is not yet enough for +the ardent lover; it does not express sufficiently his longing, his +love. The very next day, from the same quarters of Marmirolo, he writes +something like a postscript to the missive of the previous day. He tells +her that he has made an attack upon Mantua, but that a sudden fall of +the waters of the lake had delayed his troops already embarked, and that +this day he is going to try again in some other way; that the enemy a +few days past had made a sortie and killed a few hundred men, but that +they themselves, with considerable loss, had to retreat rapidly into the +fortress, and that three Neapolitan regiments had entered Brescia. But +between each of these sentences intervene some strong assurance of his +love, some tender or flattering words; and finally, at the end of the +letter, comes the principal object, the cause why it was written. The +tender lover wanted some token from his beloved: it is not enough for +him always to carry her portrait and her letters, he must also have a +lock of her hair. He writes: + +"I have lost my snuffbox; I pray you find me another, somewhat more +flat, and pray have something pretty written upon it, with a lock +of your hair. A thousand burning kisses, since you are so cold, love +unbounded, and faithfulness beyond all proof." + +Two days afterward he writes again from Marmirolo, at first hastily, a +few words about the war, then he comes to the main point. He has been +guilty, toward Josephine, of a want of politeness, and, with all the +tenderness and humility of a lover, he asks forgiveness. Her pardon and +her constant tardiness in answering his letters, are to him more weighty +matters than all the battles and victories of his restless camp-life, +and therefore he begins at once with a complaint at his separation from +her. + +"MARMIROLO, the 1st Thermidor, Year IV. (July 19, 1796.)" For the last +two days I am without letters from you. This remark I have repeated +thirty times; you feel that this for me is sad. You cannot, however, +doubt of the tenderness and undivided solicitude with which you inspire +me." + +"We attacked Mantua yesterday. We opened upon it, from two batteries, a +fire of shells and red-hot balls. The whole night the unfortunate city +was burning. The spectacle was terrible and sublime. We have taken +possession of numerous outworks, and we open the trenches to-night. +To-morrow we make our headquarters at Castiglione, and think of passing +* the night there." + +"I have received a courier from Paris. He brought two letters for you: I +have read them. Though this action seems to me very simple, as you +gave me permission so to do, yet, I fear, it will annoy you, and that +troubles me exceedingly. I wanted at first to seal them over again; but, +pshaw! that would have been horrible. If I am guilty, I beg your pardon. +I swear to you I did it not through jealousy; no, certainly not; I have +of my adored one too high an opinion to indulge in such a feeling. I +wish you would once for all allow me to read your letters; then I should +not have any twittings of conscience or fear." + +"Achilles, the courier, has arrived from Milan; no letter from my adored +one! Farewell, my sole happiness! When will you come, and be with me? I +shall have to fetch you from Milan myself." + +"A thousand kisses, burning as my heart, pure as yours!" + +"I have sent for the courier; he says he was at your residence, and that +you had nothing to say, nothing to order! Fie! wicked, hateful, cruel +tyrant!--pretty little monster! You laugh at my threats and my madness; +ah, you know very well that if I could shut you up in my heart, I would +keep you there a prisoner." + +"Let me know that you are cheerful, right well, and loving!" + +"BONAPARTE." + +But Josephine seems not to have answered this letter as Napoleon +desired. She knew that it was nothing but unfounded jealousy which had +induced him to read the letters sent to her, and to punish him for this +jealousy she forbade him to read her letters in the future. + +But while she reproached him in a jesting manner, and punished him for +this jealousy, she, herself, with all the inconsistency of a lover, fell +into the same fault, and could not hide from him the jealous fears which +the ladies from Brescia, especially the beautiful Madame de Te----, +had created within her mind. Bonaparte answered this letter as general, +lover, and husband; he gives an account of his war operations, submits +to her will as a lover, and commands her as a husband to come to him in +Brescia. + +"CASTIGLIONE, the 4th Thermidor, Year IV. (July 22, 1796). + +"The wants of the army require my presence in these parts; it is +impossible for me to go so far away as Milan; it would require for that +purpose five or six days, and during that time circumstances might arise +which would make my presence here absolutely necessary. + +"You assure me that your health is now good; consequently, I pray you +to come to Brescia. At this moment I am sending Murat into the city to +prepare you such a house as you wish. + +"I believe that you can very well sleep in Cassano on the 6th, if you +leave Milan late, so as to be in Brescia on the 7th, where the most +tender of lovers awaits you. I am in despair that you can believe, my +dear friend, that my heart can be drawn toward any one but yourself; +it belongs to you by right of conquest, and will be enduring and +ever-lasting. I do not understand why you speak of Madame de Te----. I +trouble myself no more about her than any other woman in Brescia. Since +it annoys you that I open your letters, the enclosed one will be the +last that I open; your letter did not reach me till after I had opened +this. + +"Farewell, my tender one; send me often your news. Break up at once and +come to me, and be happy without disquietude; all is well, and my heart +belongs to you for life. + +"Be sure to return to the Adjutant Miollis the box of medallions which, +as he writes, he has given you. There are so many babbling and bad +tongues, that it is necessary to be always on one's guard. + +"Health, love, and speedy arrival in Brescia! + +"I have in Milan a carriage which is suited for city and country; use it +on your journey. Bring your silver and a few necessary things. Travel by +short stages, and during the cool of the morning and evening, so as not +to weary you too much. The troops need only three days to reach Brescia, +a distance of fourteen miles. I beg of you to pass the night of the 6th +in Cassano; on the 7th I will come to meet you as far as possible. + +"Farewell, my Josephine; a thousand tender kisses! + +"BONAPARTE." + +Josephine gladly obeyed the wishes of her husband, and exactly on the +7th Thermidor (July 25) she entered Brescia. Bonaparte had ridden an +hour's distance to meet her, and, amid the shouts of the population, he +led her in triumph into the house prepared for her reception. + +Three days were allowed to the general to enjoy his happiness and +Josephine's presence. On the 28th of July he received the intelligence +that Wurmser was advancing, and that he was in Marmirolo. At once +Bonaparte broke up from Brescia, to meet him and offer battle. + +Brescia was no longer a dwelling-place for Josephine now that the enemy +threatened it; she therefore accompanied her husband, and the effeminate +creole, the tender Parisian, accustomed to all the comforts of life, +the lady surrounded by numerous attendants in Milan, saw herself at once +obliged, as the true wife of a soldier, to share with her husband all +the hardships, inconveniences, and dangers of a campaign. + +The news of the advance of the Austrians became more and more precise. +No sooner had Bonaparte arrived in Peschiera with his Josephine, than he +learned that Montevaldo was attacked by the enemy. In great haste they +pursued their journey; the next day they reached Verona, but Wurmser +had been equally swift in his movements, and on the heights surrounding +Verona were seen the light troops of Austria. + +Even a serious skirmish at the outposts took place, and Josephine, +against her will, had to be the witness of this horrible, cannibal +murder, which we are pleased to call war. + +Bonaparte, who had preceded his army, was forced to retreat from Verona, +and went with Josephine to Castel Nuovo, where the majority of his +troops were stationed. But it was a fearful journey, beset with dangers. +Everywhere on the road lay the dying and the wounded who had remained +behind after the different conflicts, and who with difficulty were +crawling along to meet the army. Josephine's sensitive heart was +painfully moved by the spectacle of these sufferings and these bleeding +wounds. Napoleon noticed it on her pale cheeks and trembling lips, and +in the tears which stood in her eyes. Besides which, a great battle +was at hand, threatening her with new horrors. To guard her from them, +Bonaparte made another sacrifice to his love, and resolved to part from +her. + +She was to return to Brescia, while Napoleon, with his army, would meet +the foe. With a thousand assurances of love, and the most tender vows, +he took leave of Josephine, and she mastered herself so as to repress +her anxiety and timidity, and to appear collected and brave. With +a smile on her lip she bade him farewell, and began the journey, +accompanied by a few well-armed horsemen, whom Bonaparte, in the most +stringent terms, commanded not to leave his wife's carriage for an +instant, and in case of attack to defend her with their lives. + +At first the journey was attended with no danger, and Josephine's heart +began to beat with less anxiety; she already believed herself in safety. +Suddenly, from a neighboring coppice, there rushed out a division of the +enemy's cavalry; already were distinctly heard the shouts and cries with +which they dashed toward the advancing carriage. To oppose this vast +number of assailants was not to be thought of; only the most rapid +flight could save them. + +The carriage was turned; the driver jumped upon the horses, and, in a +mad gallop, onward it sped. To the swiftness of the horses Josephine +owed her escape. She reached headquarters safely, and was received by +Bonaparte with loud demonstrations of joy at her unexpected return. + +But Josephine had not the strength to conceal the anxiety of her heart, +her fears and alarms. These horrible scenes of war, the sight of the +wounded, the dangers she had lately incurred, the fearful preparations +for fresh murders and massacres--all this troubled her mind so violently +that she lost at once all courage and composure. A nervous trembling +agitated her whole frame, and, not being able to control her agony, she +broke into loud weeping. + +Bonaparte embraced her tenderly, and as he kissed the tears from her +cheeks, he cried out, with a threatening flash in his eyes, "Wurmser +will pay dearly for the tears he has caused!" [Footnote: Bonaparte's +words.--"Memorial de Ste. Helene," vol. i., p. 174.] + +It was, however, a fortunate accident that the enemy's cavalry had +hindered Josephine from reaching Brescia. A quarter of an hour after her +return to headquarters the news arrived that the Austrians had advanced +into Brescia. Meanwhile Josephine had already regained all her courage +and steadfastness; she declared herself ready to abide by her husband, +to bear with him the dangers and the fatigues of the campaign; that she +wished to be with him, as it behooved the wife of a soldier. + +But Bonaparte felt that her company would cripple his courage and +embarrass his movements. Josephine once more had to leave him, so that +the tender lover might not disturb the keen commanding general, and that +his head and not his heart might decide the necessary measures. + +He persuaded Josephine to leave him, and to retire into one of the +central cities of Italy. She acceded to his wishes, and travelled away +toward Florence. But, to reach that city, it was necessary to pass +Mantua, which the French were investing. Her road passed near the walls +of the besieged city, and one of the balls, which were whizzing around +the carriage, struck one of the soldiers of her escort and wounded +him mortally. It was a dangerous, fearful journey--war's confusion +everywhere, wild shouts, fleeing, complaining farmers, constant cries of +distress, anxiety, and want. + +But Josephine had armed her heart with great courage and resolution; she +shrank from no danger, she overcame it all; she already had an undaunted +confidence in her husband's destiny, and believed in the star of his +prosperity. + +And this star led her on happily through all dangers, and protected +her throughout this reckless and daring journey. Through Bologna and +Ferrara, she came at last to Lucca; there to rest a few days from her +hardships and anxieties. There, in Lucca, she was to experience the +proud satisfaction of being witness of the deep confidence which had +struck root in the heart of the Italians, in reference to the success +of the French commander-in-chief. Though it was well known that Wurmser, +with a superior force, was advancing against General Bonaparte, and +his hungry, tattered troops, and that they were on the eve of a battle +which, according to all appearances, promised to Napoleon a complete +defeat, and to the Austrians a decisive victory, the town of Lucca +was not afraid to give to the wife of Bonaparte a grand and public +reception. The senate of Lucca received her with all the marks of +distinction shown only to princesses; the senate came to her in official +ceremony, and brought her as a gift of honor, in costly gold flasks, the +produce of their land, the fine oil of Lucca. + +Josephine received these marks of honor with that grace and amiability +with which she won all hearts, and, with her enchanting smile, thanking +the senators, she told them, with all the confidence of a lover, that +her victorious husband would, for the magnificent hospitality thus shown +her, manifest his gratitude to the town of Lucca by the prosperity and +liberty which he was ready to conquer for Italy. + +This confidence was shortly to be justified. No sooner had Josephine +arrived in Florence, whither she had come from Lucca, than the news of +the victory of the French army, commanded by her husband, reached there +also. + +Suddenly abandoning the siege of Mantua, Bonaparte had gathered together +all his forces, and with them he dealt blow after blow upon the three +divisions of the army corps of Wurmser, until he had completely defeated +them. The battles of Lonato and Castiglione were the fresh trophies of +his fame. On the 10th of August Bonaparte made his victorious entry into +Brescia, which only twelve days before he had been suddenly obliged to +abandon with his Josephine, to whom he had then been barely reunited, +and was still luxuriating in the bliss of her presence. + +Bonaparte had fulfilled his word: he had revenged Josephine, and Wurmser +had indeed paid dearly for the tears which he had caused Josephine to +shed! + +But after these days of storm and danger, the two lovers were to enjoy a +few weeks of mutual happiness and of splendid triumphs. + +Josephine had returned from Florence to Milan, and thither Bonaparte +came also in the middle of August, to rest in her arms after his battles +and victories. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. BONAPARTE AND JOSEPHINE IN MILAN. + + +The days of armistice which Bonaparte passed in Milan were accompanied +by festivities, enjoyments, and triumphs of all kinds. All Milan and +Lombardy streamed forth to present their homage to the deliverer of +Italy and to his charming, gracious wife; to give feasts in their +honor, to praise them in enthusiastic songs, to celebrate their fame in +concerts, serenades, and illuminations. + +The palace Serbelloni served Italy's deliverer once more as a residence, +and it was well calculated for this on account of its vastness and +elegance. This was one of the most beautiful buildings among the palaces +of Milan. Over its massive lower structure, and its rez-de chaussee of +red granite, sparkling in the sun with its play of many colors, arose +bold and steep its light and graceful facade. The interior of this +beautiful palace of the Dukes of Serbelloni was adorned with all the +splendors which sculpture and painting gathered into the palaces of the +Italian nobility. + +In those halls, whose roofs were richly decorated and gilded, and +supported by white columns of marble, and whose walls were covered with +those splendid and enormous mirrors which the republic of Venice alone +then manufactured; and from whose tall windows hung down in long, heavy +folds curtains of purple velvet, embroidered with gold, the work of the +famous artisans of Milan--in those brilliant halls the happy couple, +Bonaparte and Josephine, received the deputies of applauding Italy and +the high aristocracy of all Lombardy. + +An eye-witness thus describes a reception-evening in the Serbelloni +palace: "The hall in which the general received his visitors was a long +gallery divided by marble columns into three smaller rooms; the two +extreme divisions formed two large drawing-rooms, perfectly square, and +the middle partition formed a long and wide promenade apartment. In the +drawing-room, into which I entered, was Madame Bonaparte, the beautiful +Madame Visconti, Madame Leopold Berthier, and Madame Ivan. Under the +arches, at the entrance of the middle room, stood the general; +around him, but at a distance, the chiefs of the war department, +the magistrates of the city, with a few ministers of the Italian +governments, all in respectful attitude before him. Nothing seemed to be +more striking than the bearing of this little man among the dignitaries +overawed by his character. His attitude had nothing of pride, but it had +the dignity of a man conscious of his worth, and who feels that he is in +the right place. Bonaparte tried not to increase his stature, so as to +be on the same level with those around him; they already spared him that +trouble, and bowed to him. None of those who conversed with him appeared +taller than he. Berthier, Silmaine, Clarke, Augerean, awaited silently +till he should address them, an honor which this evening was not +conferred upon all. Never were headquarters so much like a court: they +were the prelude to the Tuileries." [Footnote: Arnold, "Souvenirs d'un +Sexagenaire," vol. iii., p. 10.] + +To Milan came the ambassadors of princes, of the free cities, and of +the Italian republics. They all claimed Bonaparte's assistance and +protection; they came bearers of good-will, of utterances of hope and +fear, and expecting from him help and succor. The princes trembled for +their thrones; the cities and republics for their independence; they +wanted to conciliate by their submission the general whose sword could +either threaten them all or give them ample protection. Bonaparte +received this homage with the composure of a protector, and sometimes +also with the proud reserve of a conqueror. + +He granted to the Duke of Parma the protection which he had sought, and +permitted him to remain on his territory as prince and ruler, though the +strongest expostulations had been made to Bonaparte on that point. + +"He is a Bourbon," they said; "he must no longer rule." + +"He is an unfortunate man," replied Bonaparte, proudly; "it is not worth +while to attack him. If we leave him on his lands, he will rule only in +our name; if we drive him away, he will be weaving intrigues everywhere. +Let him remain where he is, I wish him no wrong; his presence can be +useful, his absence would surely he hurtful." + +"But he is a Bourbon, citizen general, a Bourbon!" exclaimed Augereau, +with animation. + +Bonaparte's countenance darkened, and his brow was overspread with +frowns. "Well, then," cried he, with threatening tone, "he is a Bourbon! +Is he therefore by nature of so despicable a family? Because three +Bourbons have been killed in France, must we therefore hunt down all the +others? I cannot approve of proscriptions which thus fall upon a whole +family, a whole class of people. An absurd law has prohibited all the +nobles from serving the republic, and yet Barras is in the Directory, +and I am at the head of the army in Italy. We are consequently liable +to punishment in virtue of your absurd and cruel system! Hunt down those +who do wrong, but not masses who are innocent. Can you punish Paris +and France for the crimes of the sans-culottes? The Bourbons are, it is +said, the enemies of freedom; they have been led to the scaffold under +the action of a right which I do not acknowledge. The Duke of Parma is +weak, and a poltroon,--he will not stir. His people seem to love him, +for we are here, and they rise not, they utter no complaint. Let him, +then, continue to rule as long as he pays all that I exact from him." +[Footnote: Napoleon's words.--See Hazlitt, "Histoire de Napoleon," vol. +v., p. 1.] + +Thanks to the good-will and protection of the republican general, the +Duke of Parma remained on his little throne--on the same throne which +was one day to be to Napoleon's second wife a compensation for her lost +imperial crown. The Empress of France was to become a Duchess of Parma; +and now to her husband, the present general of the republic, the actual +Duke of Parma was indebted that his little dukedom was not converted +into a republic. + +It is true that the duke had to pay dearly for the protection which +Bonaparte granted. He had to pay a war-subsidy of two million francs, +and, besides, give from his collection his most beautiful painting, +that of St. Jerome by Correggio, for the Museum of the Louvre in Paris. +[Footnote: This splendid picture is now in the Vatican at Rome.] The +duke, as a lover of art, was more distressed at the loss of this picture +than at the enormous contribution he had to pay; for he soon caused the +proposition to be made to General Bonaparte, to redeem from the French +government that painting, for the sum of two hundred thousand francs, a +proposition which Bonaparte, without any further consultation with the +authorities in Paris, rejected with some degree of irritation. + +The Duke of Parma remained therefore the sovereign of his duchy, because +it so pleased Bonaparte; but Bonaparte was led into error when he +thought that, as his people rebelled not, they therefore loved their +duke, and were satisfied with him. The women and the priests controlled +entirely the feeble duke; and not only the people, but the better +classes and the aristocracy, submitted to all this with great +unwillingness. Once, when Joseph Bonaparte, whom the French republic had +sent to give assurance of protection and recognition to the little Duke +of Parma, was walking with a few cavaliers in the gardens around the +duke's palace in Colorno, he expressed his admiration at the symmetry +and beauty of the buildings. + +"That is true," was the answer, "but just look at the buildings of the +neighboring cloister! do you not see how superior that dwelling is +to that of the sovereign? Wretched is the country where this can take +place!" [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 65.] + +Even the representatives of the republic of Venice came to Bonaparte. +They came not only to secure his friendship, but also to complain that +the French army, in its advance upon Brescia, had done injury to the +neutral territory of Venice. + +Bonaparte directed at them a look of imperious severity, and, instead +of laying stress on their neutrality, he asked in a sharp tone, "Are you +for us, or against us?" + +"Signor, we are neutral, and--" + +"Do not be neutral," interrupted Bonaparte, with vehemence, "be strong, +otherwise your friendship is useful to none." + +And, with imperious tone, he reproached them for the vacillating, +perfidious conduct which, since 1792, had been the policy of Venice, +and he threatened to punish and destroy that republic if she did not +immediately prove herself to be the loyal friend of the French. + +While Bonaparte used the few short weeks of rest to bring Italy more and +more under the yoke of France, it was Josephine's privilege to draw to +herself and toward her husband the minds of the Italians, to win their +hearts to her husband, and through him to the French republic, which +he represented. She did this with all the grace and affability, all +the genial tact and large-heartedness of a noble heart, which were the +attributes of her beautiful and amiable person. She was unwearied +in well-doing, in listening to all the petitions with which she was +approached; she had for every complaint and every request an open ear; +she not only promised to every applicant her intercession, but she made +him presents, and was ever ready, by solicitations, flatteries, and +expostulations, and, if necessary, even with tears, to entreat from her +husband a mitigation of the punishment and sentence which he had decided +upon in his just severity; and seldom had Bonaparte the courage to +oppose her wishes. These were for Josephine glorious days of love and +triumph. She depicts them herself in a letter to her aunt in plain, +short words. + +"The Duke de Serbelloni," writes she, "will tell you, my dear aunt, how +I have been received in Italy; how, wherever I passed, they celebrated +my arrival; how all the Italian princes, even the Duke of Tuscany, the +emperor's brother, gave festivities in my honor. Well, then, I would +prefer to live as a plain citizeness of France. I like not the honorable +distinctions of this country. They weary me. It is true, my health +inclines me to be sad. I often feel very ill. If fate would bring me +good health, then I should be entirely happy. I possess the most amiable +husband that can be found. I have no occasion to desire anything. My +wishes are his. The whole day he is worshipping me as if I were a +deity; it is impossible to find a better husband. He writes often to +my children--he loves them much. He sent to Hortense, through M. +Serbelloni, a beautiful enamelled repeating watch, ornamented with fine +pearls; to Eugene he sent also a fine gold watch." [Footnote: Aubenas, +"Histoire de l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. i., p. 349.] + +But soon these days of quietness and happiness were to be broken; +the armistice was drawing to a close, when, with redoubled energy, +Bonaparte, who had received from the government the wished-for +re-enforcements, longed to resume the war with Austria, which on her +side had sent another army into Italy, under General Alvinzi, to relieve +Mantua, and to deliver Wurmser from his peril. + +On the 13th of August Bonaparte left Milan and returned to Brescia, +where he established his headquarters, and where, with all the speed and +restlessness of a warrior longing for victory, he made his preparations +for the coming conflict. + +But amid the anxieties, the cares, the chances of this new campaign, +his heart remained behind in Milan with his Josephine; when the +general began to rest, the lover began to breathe. No sooner were +the battle-plans, the fight, the preparations and the dispositions +accomplished, than all his thoughts returned to Josephine, and he had +again recourse to his written correspondence with his adored wife; for +although he longed so much to have her with him, yet he was unwilling to +occasion her so much inconvenience and so many privations. + +Bonaparte's letters are again way-marks during his glorious path of +victory and triumph, while he was over-running Italy with wondrous +rapidity--but, instead of relating these conquests, we turn to his +letters to Josephine. Already, on his way to Brescia, he had written her +several times. The very day after reaching there, after having made the +necessary military arrangements, Bonaparte wrote to her: + +"BRESCIA, the 14th Fructidor, Year IV. (August 31, 1795). + +"I am leaving for Verona. I have hoped in vain to receive a letter from +you; this makes me wretched and restless. At the time of my departure, +you were somewhat suffering; I pray you, do not leave me in such a state +of disquietude. You had promised me a greater punctuality; your tongue, +then, chimed in with your heart...; you, whom Nature has gifted with a +sweet disposition, with joyousness, and every thing which is agreeable, +how can you forget him who loves you so warmly? Three days without +a letter from you! I have during that time written to you several. +Separation is horrible; the nights are long, tiresome, and insipid; the +days are monotonous." + +"To-day, alone with thoughts, works, men, and their destructive schemes, +I have not received from you a single note that I can press to my +heart." + +"Headquarters are broken up; I leave in one hour. I have this night +received expresses from Paris; there was nothing for you but the +enclosed letter, which will afford you some pleasure." + +"Think on me; live for me; be often with your beloved, and believe that +there is for him but one sorrow; that he shrinks only from this--to be +no more loved by his Josephine. A thousand right sweet kisses, right +tender, right exclusive kisses." + +"BONAPARTE." + +Three days after he tells her that he is now in the midst of war +operations; that hostilities have begun again, and that he hopes in a +few days to advance upon Trieste. But this occupied his mind less than +his solicitude for Josephine. After a short paragraph on his military +affairs, he continues: + +"No letter from you yet; I am really anxious; but I am assured that you +are well, and that you have made an excursion on the Como Lake. Every +day I wait impatiently for the courier who is to bring me news from you; +you know how precious this is to me. I live no longer when away from +you; the joy of my life is to be near my sweet Josephine. Think of me; +write often, very often; this is the only remedy for separation; it is +cruel, but I trust it will soon be over." + +"BONAPARTE." + +Meanwhile this separation was to last longer than Bonaparte had +imagined. War held him entangled in its web so fast, that he had not +time even to write to Josephine. In the next two letters he could only +tell her, in a few lines, what had happened at the theatre of war; that +he had again defeated Wurmser, and had surrounded him, and that he +hopes to take Mantua. Even for his constant complaint about Josephine's +slothfullness in writing, he finds no room in these short letters. In +the next letter, however, it appears the more violently. He has no +time to give her, as was his usual practice, any account of the war. +He begins at once with the main object, which is--"Josephine has not +written:" + +"VERONA, 1st day of Complementaires in Year V," "(September 17, 1796). + +"I write to you often, my beloved one, but you write seldom to me. You +are wicked and hateful, very hateful--as hateful as you are inconstant. +It is indeed faithlessness to deceive a wretched man, a tender lover! +Must he lose his rights because he is away, burdened with hardship and +labor? Without his Josephine, without the certainty of her love, what is +there on earth for him? What would he do here? + +"We had yesterday a very bloody affair; the enemy has lost many men, and +is well beaten. We have taken his advanced works before Mantua. + +"Farewell, adored Josephine! One of these nights the doors will open +with a loud crash: as a jealous man, I am in your arms! + +"A thousand dear kisses! BONAPARTE." + +But the doors were not to be opened on any of the following nights for +the jealous one! The events of war were to keep him away a long time +from his Josephine. The Austrian Generals Wurmser and Alvinzi, with +their two armies, demanded all the energy and activity of Bonaparte. +Meanwhile, as he was preparing for the great battles which were to +decide the fate of Italy, his thoughts were always turned to his +Josephine; his deep longings grew day by day, still he had no longer +cause to complain that Josephine did not write, that she had forgotten +him! Contrariwise, Josephine did write; she had, while he was writing +her angry letters about her silence, written several times, for +Bonaparte in the following letter says that he has received many +letters from her, which, probably on account of the difficulties of +communication, had been delayed. He had received them with the highest +delight, and pressed them to his lips and heart. But no sooner had he +rejoiced over them, than he complains that they are cold, reserved, and +old. No word, no expression, satisfies his ardent love. He complains +that her letters are cold, and then, when she dips her pen in the fire +of tender love, he complains again that her glowing letters "turn +his blood into fire, and stir up his whole being." Love, with all its +wantonness and all its pains, holds him captive in its hands, and the +general has no means of appeasing the lover. + +The letter which complains of Josephine's coldness is dated + +"MODENA, 26th Vendemiaire of the Year V." (October 17, 1796), + +"I was yesterday the whole day on the field. To-day I have kept my bed. +Fever and a violent headache have debarred me from writing to my adored +one; but I have received her letters, I pressed them to my lips and +to my heart, and the anguish of a separation of hundreds of miles +disappeared. At this moment I see you at my side, neither capricious +nor angry, but soft, tender, and wrapped in that goodness which is +exclusively the attribute of my Josephine. It was a dream--judge if +it could drive the fever away. Your letters are as cold as if you were +fifty years old; they seem to have been composed after a marriage of +fifteen years. One can see in them the friendship and sentiments of +the winter of life. Pshaw! Josephine, ... that is very naughty, very +abominable, very treasonable on your part. What more remains to make +me worthy of pity? All is already done! To love me no more! To hate +me! Well, then, let it be so! Every thing humiliates but hatred, +and indifference with its marmoreal pulse, its staring eyes, and its +measured steps. A thousand thousand kisses as tender as my heart! I +am somewhat better. I leave to-morrow. The English are cruising on the +Mediterranean. Corsica is ours. Good news for France and for the army. + +"BONAPARTE." + +Bonaparte had gone to wage the last decisive battle. He writes to her +from Verona a few lines that he has arrived there, and that he is just +going to mount his horse to pursue the march. In this letter, however, +he does not tell Josephine that General Vaubois, with his fugitive +regiments, has been beaten by the Tyrolese, and that, driven from their +mountains, he has arrived in Verona; that Alvinzi occupies the Tyrol and +has pushed on to Brenta and to Etsch. Bonaparte was gathering his troops +to drive away General Alvinzi, who had occupied the heights of Caldiero, +from these important positions, and to take possession of them by main +force. A violent and desperate struggle ensued, and the day ended with +victory on the side of the Austrians. Bonaparte had to return to Verona; +Alvinzi maintained himself on the heights. + +To the irritated general, disappointed in his plans and humiliated, his +love becomes his "bete de souffrance," upon which he takes vengeance +for the defeat of Caldiero. Josephine has to endure the flaming wrath of +Bonaparte, in whom now general and lover are fused into one; but in his +expressions of anger the general has no complaints--it is the lover who +murmurs, who reprimands, and is irritated. + +On the evening of the 12th November, the day of the defeat of Caldiero, +Bonaparte returned to Verona. The next day he wrote to Josephine: + +"VERONA, the 3d Frimaire, Year V." (November 13, 1796) + +"I love you no more; on the contrary, I hate you. You are a wicked +creature, very inconsistent, very stupid, very silly. You do not write +to me. You do not love your husband. You know how much pleasure your +letters would afford, and you do not write to him even six lines, which +you can readily scribble out." + +"How, then, do you begin the day, madame? What important occupation +takes away your time from writing to your very excellent lover? What new +inclination chokes and thrusts aside the tender, abiding love which you +have promised him? What can this wonderful, this new love be, which lays +claim to all your time, and rules over your days, and hinders you from +occupying yourself with your husband? Josephine, be on your guard; on +some evil night the doors will be burst open and I shall stand before +you!" + +"In truth, I am restless, my dear one, because I receive no news from +you. Write me at once four pages about those things, which fill my heart +with emotion and pleasure. + +"I trust soon to fold you in my arms, and then I will overwhelm you with +a million of kisses burning like the equator." + +"BONAPARTE." + +Whilst Bonaparte was pursuing and engaging with Wurmser and Alvinzi in +bloody hostilities, and writing to Josephine tender and angry letters +of a lover ever jealous, ever dissatisfied and envious, Josephine was +leading in Milan a life full of pleasure and amusement, full of splendor +and triumphs, of receptions and festivities. Every new victory, every +onward movement, was for the inhabitants of Milan, and her proud and +rich nobles, a fresh and welcome occasion to celebrate and glorify the +wife of General Bonaparte, and, through her, the hero who was to take +away from their necks the yoke of the Austrian, and who suspected not +that he was so soon to place upon them another yoke. + +Josephine, true to the wishes and commands of Bonaparte, accepted these +festivities and this homage with all the affability and grace which +distinguished her. She had by degrees become familiar with this +ceaseless homage, which at first seemed so wearisome; by degrees she +took delight in this life of pleasure, in the incense of adulation, and +the brilliancies of fame. All the indolence, the dreamy carelessness, +the graceful abandonment of the creole had been again awakened in her. +She cradled herself playfully on the lulling, bright waves of pleasure +as an insect with golden wings, and she smiled complacently at the +stream of encircling festivities. + +Bonaparte had told her to use all the arts of a woman to bind the +Milanese and the Lombards to herself and to her husband. With her smiles +she was to continue the conquest begun by Bonaparte's sword. + +She could not, therefore, live alone in quiet solitude; she could not +remain in obscurity while her husband was performing his part on the +theatre of war; she could not, by an appearance of gravity, or by a +clouded brow, furnish occasion to the suspicion that there existed doubt +in the future success of her husband, or in his prosperity and victory. + +Roses were to crown her brow--a cheerful smile was to beam on her +countenance; with joyous spirit, she was to take part in the festivities +and pleasures--that the Milanese might see with what earnest confidence +she believed in Napoleon's star! But Bonaparte, with all the instinct of +a genuine lover, had read the deepest secret of her soul; he was envious +and jealous, because he felt that Josephine did not belong to him with +her whole heart, her whole being, all her emotions and thoughts. Her +heart, which had received from the past so many scars and wounds, +could not yet have blossomed anew; it had been warmed by the glow of +Bonaparte's love, but it was not yet thoroughly penetrated with that +passion which Bonaparte so painfully missed, so intensely craved. + +The earnest, unfettered nature of his love intimidated her, while it +ravished and flattered her vanity; but her heart was not entirely his, +it had yet room for her children, for her friends, for the things of +this world! + +Josephine loved Bonaparte with that soft, modest, and retiring +affection, which only by degrees--by the storms of anguish, jealousy, +agony, and the possibility of losing him--was to be fanned into that +vitality and glow which never cooled again in her heart, and which at +last gave her the death-stroke. + +She therefore thought she was fulfilling her task when she, while +Bonaparte was fighting with weapons, conquered with smiles, and received +the homage of the conquered only as a tribute which they brought through +her to the warlike genius of her husband. + +Meanwhile Bonaparte had taken vengeance for his defeat at Caldiero. +Through a ruse of war, he had decoyed Alvinzi from his safe and +impregnable position into one where he could meet him with his army +anxious for the fray, and give him battle. + +The gigantic struggle lasted three days--and the close of the third day +brought to the conqueror, Bonaparte, the laurel-wreath of undying glory, +which, more enduring and dazzling than an imperial crown, surrounded +with a halo the hero's brow long after that crown had fallen from it. + +This was the victory of Arcola, which Bonaparte himself decided by +snatching from the flag-bearer the standard of the retreating regiment, +and rushing with it, through a shower of balls, over the bridge of death +and destruction, and, with a voice heard above the thundering cannon, +shouting jubilant to his soldiers--"En avant, mes amis!" And bravely the +soldiers followed him--a brilliant victory was the result. + +Elevated by this deed, the grandest and most glorious of his heroic +career, Napoleon returned to Verona on the 19th November. The whole +city--all Lombardy--sang to his praise their inspired hymns, and greeted +with enthusiasm the conqueror of Arcola. He, however, wanted a sweeter +reward; and after obtaining a second victory, on the 23d of November, +by defeating Wurmser near Mantua, he longed to rest and enjoy an hour's +happiness in the arms of his Josephine. + +From Verona he wrote to her on the day after the battle of Mantua, on +the 24th of November: + +"I hope soon to be in your arms, my beloved one; I love you to madness! +I write by this courier for Paris. All is well. Wurmser was defeated +yesterday under Mantua. Your husband needs nothing but the love of his +Josephine to be happy. BONAPARTE." + +But the most terrible doubts hung yet over this love. The letter in +which Napoleon announced his coming had not reached Josephine; and, as +the next day he came to Milan with all the cravings and impatience of a +lover, he did not find Josephine there. + +She had not suspected his coming; she had not dreamed that the +commanding officer could stop in his victorious course and give way to +the lover. She thought him far away; and, ever faithful to Bonaparte's +direction to assist him in the conquest of Italy, she had accepted an +invitation from the city of Genoa, which had lately and gladly entered +into alliance with France. The most brilliant festivities welcomed her +in this city of wealth and palaces, and "Genova la superba" gathered +all its magnificence, all the splendor of its glory, to offer, under the +eyes of all Europe, her solemn homage to the wife of the celebrated hero +of Arcola. + +While Josephine, with joyous pride was receiving this homage, Bonaparte, +gloomy and murmuring, sat in his cabinet at Milan, and wrote to her: + +"MILAN, the 7th Frimaire, Year V.," Three o'clock. afternoon (November +27, 1796). + +"I have just arrived in Milan, and rush to your apartments. I have left +every thing to see you, to press you in my arms; .... you are not there! +You are pursuing a circle of festivities through the cities. You go away +from me at my approach; you trouble yourself no more about your dear +Napoleon. A spleen has made you love him; inconstancy renders you +indifferent. + +"Accustomed to dangers, I know a remedy against ennui and the troubles +of life. The wretchedness I endure is not to be measured; I am entitled +not to expect it. + +"I will wait here until the 9th. Do not trouble yourself. Pursue your +pleasures; happiness is made for you. The whole world is too happy when +it can please you, and your husband alone is very, very unhappy. + +"BONAPARTE." + +But this cry of anguish from this crushed heart did not reach Josephine; +and the courier, who next day came to Milan from Genoa, brought +from Josephine only a letter with numerous commissions for Berthier. +Bonaparte's anger and sorrow knew no bounds, and he at once writes to +her with all the utterances of despair and complaint of a lover, and the +proud wrath of an injured husband: + +"MILAN, the 8th Frimaire, Year V., eight o'clock, evening. + +"The courier whom Berthier had sent to Milan has just arrived. You have +had no time to write to me; that I can understand very well. In the +midst of pleasures and amusements it would have been too much for you to +make the smallest sacrifice for me. Berthier has shown me the letter you +wrote to him. It is not my purpose to trouble you in your arrangements +or in the festivities which you are enjoying; I am not worth the +trouble; the happiness or the misery of a man you love no longer has not +the right to interest you. + +"As regards myself, to love you and you alone, to make you happy, to do +nothing that can wrong you in any way, is the desire and object of my +life. + +"Be happy, have nothing to reproach me, trouble not yourself about the +felicity of a man who only breathes in your life, who finds enjoyment +only in your happiness. When I claim from you a love which would +approach mine, I am wrong: how can one expect that a cobweb should weigh +as much as gold? When I sacrifice to you all my wishes, all my thoughts, +all the moments of my life, I merely obey the spell which your charms, +your character, your whole person, exercise over my wretched heart. I +am wrong, for Nature has not endowed me with the power of binding you +to me; but I deserve from Josephine in return at least consideration and +esteem, for I love her unto madness, and love her exclusively. + +"Farewell, adorable wife! farewell, my Josephine! May fate pour into my +heart every trouble and every sorrow; but may it send to my Josephine +serene and happy days! Who deserves it more than she? When it is well +understood that she loves me no more, I will garner up into my heart my +deep anguish, and be content to be in many things at least useful and +good to her. + +"I open this letter once more to send you a kiss.... ah! Josephine. ... +Josephine! BONAPARTE." + +Meanwhile it was not yet well understood that Josephine loved him no +more; for as soon as she knew of Bonaparte's presence in Milan, she +hastened to dispatch him a courier, and to apprise him of her sudden +departure. + +Bonaparte did not leave Milan on the 9th; he remained there, waiting for +Josephine, to lift her up in his arms from her carriage, and to bear +her into her apartments; to enjoy with her a few happy days of a quiet, +domestic, and mutual love, all to themselves. + +His presence with the army, however, soon became a matter of necessity; +for Alvinzi was advancing with considerable re-enforcements, with two +army corps to the relief of Mantua, and Bonaparte, notwithstanding +his pressing remonstrances to the Directory, having received but few +re-enforcements and very little money, had to exert all his powers and +energy to press a few advantages from the superior forces of the enemy. +Everywhere his presence and personal action were needed; and, constantly +busy with war, ever sword in hand, he could not, for long weeks, even +once take pen IN HAND and write to his Josephine. His longings had to +subside before the force of circumstances, which claimed the general's +whole time. + +On the 3d of February, 1797, he again finds time to send her a few +lines, to say that he is breaking up and going to Rimini. Then, after +Alvinzi had been again defeated, after the fortress of Mantua had +capitulated, Bonaparte had to break up again and go to Rome, to require +from the pope the reason why he had made common cause with Austria, and +shown himself the enemy of the French republic. In Bologna he lingered a +few days, as Josephine, in compliance with his wishes, had come there to +make amends by her presence for so long a separation. + +She remained in Bologna, while Bonaparte advanced toward the city of +the Church. But the gloomy quietude, the constant rumors of war, the +threatening dangers, the intrigues with which she was surrounded, the +hostile exertions of the priests, the want of society, of friendly +faces, every thing had a tendency to make Josephine's residence in +Bologna very disagreeable, and to bring on sadness and nervousness. + +In this gloomy state of mind she writes to Bonaparte that she feels +sick, exhausted and helpless; that she is anxious to return to Paris. He +answers her from Ancona: + +"The 8th Pluviose, Year V. (February 16, 1797). + +"You are sad, you are sick, you write to me no longer, you wish to +return to Paris! Do you no longer love your friend? This thought makes +me very unhappy. My dear friend, life is intolerable to me, since I have +heard of your sadness. + +"I send you at once Moscati to take care of you. My health is somewhat +feeble; my cold hangs on. I pray you spare yourself, and love me as much +as I love you, and do write every day. My restlessness is horrible. + +"I have given orders to Moscati to accompany you to Ancona, if you will +come. I will write to you and let you know where I am. + +"I may perhaps make peace with the pope, and then will soon be with you; +it is the most intense desire of my life. + +"I send a hundred kisses. Think not that any thing can equal my love, +unless it be my solicitude for you. Write to me every day yourself, my +dearly-beloved one! + +"BONAPARTE." + +But Josephine, in her depressed state of mind, and her nervous +irritability, did not have the courage to draw nearer the scenes of war, +and she dreaded to face again such dangers as once she had encountered +in Brescia and on her journey to Florence. She had not been able to +overcome the indolence of the Creole so much as to write to Bonaparte. +Fully conscious of his love and pardon, she relied upon them when, in +her reluctance to every exertion, she announced to him, through the +physician Moscati, that she would not come to Ancona, but would wait for +him in Bologna. + +This news made a very painful impression upon Bonaparte, and filled him +with sorrow, though it reached him on a day in which he had obtained +a new triumph, a spiritual victory without any shedding of blood. The +pope, frightened at the army detachments approaching Rome, as well as at +the menacing language of the victor of Arcola, signed a peace with the +French republic, and with the general whose sword had bowed into the +dust all the princes of Italy, and freed all the population from their +duties as subjects. Bonaparte announced this to Josephine, and it is +evident how important it was to him that this news should precede even +his love-murmurings and reproaches. His letter was dated + +"TOLONTINO, the 1st Ventose, Year V. (February 19,1797). + +"Peace with Rome is signed. Bologna, Ferrara, Romagna fall into the +hands of the French republic. The pope has to pay us in a short time +thirty millions, and gives us many precious objects of art. + +"I leave to-morrow for Ancona, and then for Rimini, Ravenna, and +Bologna. If your health permits, come over to meet me in Ravenna, but, I +implore you, spare yourself. + +"Not a word from your hand! What have I done? To think only of you, +to love but you, to live but for my wife, to enjoy only my beloved's +happiness, does this deserve such a cruel treatment from her? My friend, +I implore you, think of me, and write to me every day. Either you are +sick, or you love me no longer. Do you imagine, then, that my heart is +of marble? Why do you have so little sympathy with my sorrow? You must +have a very poor idea of me! That I cannot believe. You, to whom Nature +has imparted so much understanding, so much amiability, and so much +beauty, you, who alone can rule in my heart, you know, without doubt, +what power you have over me! + +"Write to me, think of me, and love me. + +"Yours entirely, yours for life, + +"BONAPARTE." + +This is the last letter of Bonaparte to Josephine during his first +Italian campaign--the last at least in the series of letters which +Queen Hortense has made public, as the most beautiful and most glorious +monument to her mother. [Footnote: "Lettres de Napoleon a Josephine et +de Josephine a Napoleon et a sa fille. Londres et Leipzic, 1833."] + +We have dwelt upon them because these letters, like sunbeams, throw a +bright light on the new pathway of Josephine's life--because they are an +eloquent and splendid testimony to the love which Josephine had inspired +in her young husband, and also to her amiableness, to her sweetness of +disposition, to her grace, and to all the noble and charming qualities +which procured her so much admiration and affection, and which still +caused her to be loved, sought for and celebrated, when she had to +descend from the height of a throne, and became the deserted, divorced +wife of the man who loved her immeasurably, and who so often had sworn +to her that this love would only end with his life! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. THE COURT OF MONTEBELLO. + + +On the 18th of April were finally signed, in Leoben, the preliminaries +of peace between Austria and France, and which finally put an end to +this cruel war. Austria was compelled to acknowledge herself defeated, +for even the Archduke Charles, who had pushed forward from the Rhine +with his army to oppose the conqueror of Wurmser and of Alvinzi, had not +been able to arrest Bonaparte in his victorious career. + +Bonaparte had publicly declared he would march toward Vienna, and +dictate to the Emperor of Germany, in his very palace, terms of peace. +He was at the point of carrying into execution this bold plan. Since the +battle of Tagliamento, on the 16th of March, the army of the archduke +was broken, and he could no longer prevent Bonaparte from marching with +his army over Laybach and Trieste into Germany. On the 25th of March, +Bonaparte entered into Klagenfurt; and now that he was but forty miles +from the capital, the Austrian court began to tremble at the approach +of this army of sans-culottes who, under the leadership of General +Bonaparte, had been transformed into heroes. She therefore accepted +the propositions of peace made by Bonaparte, and, as already said, its +preliminaries were signed in Leoben. + +Now Bonaparte could rest after such constant and bloody work, now he +could again hasten to his Josephine, who was waiting for him in the +palace of Serbelloni. The whole city--all Lombardy--was with her, awaiting him. His journey +from Leoben to Milan was a continuous triumph, which, however, reached +its culminating point at his entrance into the city. Milan had adorned +herself for this day as a bride to receive her hero. From every balcony +waved the united French and Italian standards, costly tapestries +were hanging down, every window was occupied by beautiful women +gayly attired, and who, with large bouquets of flowers and waving +handkerchiefs, greeted the conqueror. All the dignitaries of the city +went to meet him in processional pomp; from every tower sounded the +welcome chimes, and the compact masses of the people in the streets and +on the roofs of the houses filled the air with the jubilant shout: "Long +live the deliverer of Italy! the conqueror of Austria!" + +Josephine, surrounded by ladies of the highest aristocracy of Lombardy, +received her husband in the Palace Serbelloni. With radiant smiles, and +yet with tears in her eyes, she received him, her heart swelling with a +lofty joy at this ovation to Bonaparte; and through the glorification +of this victory he appeared to her more beautiful, more worthy of love, +than ever before. On this day of his return from so many battles +and victories her heart gave itself up with all its power, all its +unreservedness and fulness, to this wondrous man who had won so +many important battles, and who bowed before her alone with all the +submissive humility of a conquered man! From this day she loved him with +that warm, strong love which was to end only with her death. + +Josephine had good reason to be happy on this day, for it brought her +not only her husband, but also a new source of happiness, her son, her +dear Eugene. Bonaparte had sent for him from Paris, and given him a +commission of second lieutenant in the first regiment of hussars, and +had also appointed him adjutant of the commanding general of the army of +Italy, perhaps as much to give to Josephine a new proof of his affection +as to attach Eugene to his person, for whom he felt the love of a +father. + +Near the returned general, Josephine, to her supreme delight, saw her +dear son, from whom she had been separated so long; and Eugene, whom she +had left in Paris a mere boy, presented himself to her in Milan, in his +officer's uniform, as a youth, with countenance beaming with joy and +eyes full of lustre, ready to enter upon fame's pathway, on which his +step-father, so brilliant a model, was walking before him. The maternal +heart of Josephine felt both love and pride at the sight of this young +man, so remarkable for his healthy appearance, and his youthful vigor +and genius, and she thanked Bonaparte with redoubled love for the joyous +surprise which his considerate affection had prepared for her. + +Now began for Josephine and Bonaparte happy days, illumined by all the +splendor of festivities, of fealty exhibited, of triumphs realized. +After lingering a few days in Milan, Bonaparte, with his wife, the +whole train of his friends, his adjutants and servants, removed to the +pleasure-castle of Montebello, near Milan. + +Here, amid rich natural scenery, in this large, imposing castle, which, +built on the summit of a hill, mantled with olive-groves and vineyards, +afforded on all sides a view of the surrounding, smiling plains of +Lombardy--here Bonaparte wished to rest from the hardships and dangers +of his last campaign; here, he wished to organize the great Italian +republic which was then the object of his exertions, and whose iron +crown he afterward coveted to place on his head. At Montebello he wished +to enact new laws for Italy, create new institutious, reduce to silence, +with threatening voice, the opposition of those who dared to oppose to +the new law of liberty the old centennial rights of possession and of +citizenship. + +Italy was to be free, such was the will of her deliverer; and he took +great care not to let any one suspect or read the secret thoughts +which he kept hid behind the pompous proclamations of his authority. He +therefore answered evasively and vaguely those who came to fathom his +designs, and to become acquainted with his plans. + +The Grand-duke of Tuscany sent to Montebello for this purpose, the +Marquis Manfredini. He was instructed to ask General Bonaparte if it was +his intention to destroy the grand-duchy of Tuscany, and to incorporate +its territory into the great Italian republic. The marquis implored +Bonaparte with persuasive, touching accents, to tell him what his plans +were, and if he would allow Tuscany to subsist as an independent state. + +Bonaparte, smiling, shrugged his shoulders: "Signor marquis," said he, +"you remind me of that creditor who once asked the Cardinal de Rohan +when he wished to pay him. The cardinal simply answered: 'My dear sir, +do not be so curious.' If your grand-duke will keep quiet, he will +suffer no injury." + +Napoleon exhibited less friendliness and good-nature toward the republic +of Venice, which had also sent her delegates to Montebello for the +sake of reconciling the general, who had sworn vengeance against the +republic, because a sort of Sicilian Vespers had been organized there +against the French; and because, especially in Verona, and throughout +the Venetian provinces, thousands of Frenchmen had been murdered by +the revolted peasants, whom the fanatical priesthood had stirred to +sedition. + +Now, that Bonaparte had defeated the Grand-duke Charles, the hope of +the rebels, Venice humbly sent her most distinguished sons to plead for +forgiveness and indulgence, and to promise full reparation. But Napoleon +received them with contempt and threatening anger, and to their humble +petitions replied in a thundering voice, "I will be an Attila to +Venice!" + +Meanwhile the same general, who swore the ruin of Venice, showed himself +conciliating and lenient toward Rome, and instead of being an Attila, he +endeavored to be a preserver and a protector. + +The Directory in Paris was not fully satisfied with the peace which +Bonaparte had concluded with the pope. They thought Napoleon had been +too lenient with him; that he ought to have taken Rome from him, as he +tore away Milan from the Emperor of Germany. The five rulers of France +went so far as to make reproaches against Bonaparte for his leniency, +and to require from him the downfall of the pope, and with him that of +Catholicism. + +But Bonaparte had the boldness to oppose these demands of the Directory, +and to set up his will in defiance to their supreme authority. + +He wrote to the Directory: "You say with reason that the Roman religion +will long be the enemy of the republic; that is very true, but it is +equally true that, on account of the great distance you are from the +scene of events, you cannot measure the amount of difficulty there is in +carrying out your orders. + +"You wish to destroy the Catholic Church in a city where it has ruled so +many years. Believe me, it is useless to burden ourselves with fruitless +labor. We have already enough to do; to defeat our enemies on the field +of battle, it is not necessary to arouse all Europe against us--even the +heretics, through policy, would defend the cause of the Holy See. Are +you fully convinced that France would calmly look on? France needs a +religious worship: that which you propose cannot, on account of its +simplicity, replace this one. Follow my advice: let the pope be pope! +If you bury his earthly power, acknowledge at least his spiritual +authority. Force him not to seek refuge at a foreign court, where by his +mere presence it would gain an immense ascendency. Italy wants religion +and the pope. If she is wounded in her faith, she will be hostile to us, +while now she is peaceably inclined. I repeat, the present difficulties +are too weighty, to add new ones. Who can fathom the future? Who can +assume the responsibility of such a deed as the one you propose? I shall +not, therefore, do it, since you leave it with me to inform you on the +subject. I consider it dangerous to conjure up fanaticism. The Catholic +religion is that of the arts, and the arts are absolutely necessary +to Italy's welfare. Be sure that if you destroy the former, you give a +fatal blow to the latter, and that the Italians are good accountants. +Ponder well these matters, then, and be sure that Catholicism has ceased +to exist in France. Are you well satisfied that no one there will go +back to it?" + +While in Montebello, though the sword had been laid aside, Bonaparte was +still busy with war affairs, and the quarrels of princes and nations. +Josephine at the same time passed there the honored life of a mighty +princess, whose favors and intercessions the great and the powerful of +earth endeavored to obtain by every conceivable means. The ladies of the +aristocracy of Milan were eager to pay their homage to the wife of the +deliverer; the courts of Italy, as well as other parts of Europe, sent +ambassadors to General Bonaparte; and these gentlemen were naturally +zealous in offering their incense to Josephine, in surrounding her with +courtly and flattering attentions. The Marquis de Gallo, the ambassador +of Spain at the court of Verona, came with the Austrian ambassador, the +Count von Meerfeld, to Montebello, to enter into negotiations about the +peace which was to form the precious key-stone to the preliminaries of +Leobeu; and these two gentlemen, who opposed to the plain manners of +Bonaparte's companions-in-arms the very essence of refined, polished, +and witty courtiers, rivalled each other in showing to Josephine their +highest consideration by their festivities and amusements; to win her +favor and interest through the most complacent and considerate attention +to all her views, wishes, and plans. + +Josephine received all this homage with the enchanting and smiling +quietude of a woman who, without exaltation or pride, feels no surprise +at any flattery or homage, but kindly and thankfully accepts what is +due to her. Among this brilliant Italian aristocracy which surrounded +her--among the ambassadors of the powers who sued not so much for +alliance with France as for General Bonaparte's favor--among the +generals and superior officers who had shared with Bonaparte the dangers +of the battle-field and the laurels of victory--among learned +men, artists, and poets, whom Bonaparte had often invited to +Montebello--among so brilliant, so wealthy, so superior, so intelligent +a society, Josephine shone as the resplendent sun around which all +these planets moved, and from which they all received life, light, and +happiness. She received the ambassadors of sovereigns with the dignity +and affability of a princess; she conversed with the most distinguished +ladies in cheerful simplicity, and with the unaffected joyousness and +harmless innocency of a young maiden; she conversed with men of learning +and artists in profound and serious tones, about their labors, their +efforts, and success; she allowed the generals to relate the momentous +events of the late great battles, and her eye shone with deeper pride +and pleasure when from the mouth of the brave she heard the enthusiastic +praise of her husband. + +Then her keen looks would be directed toward Bonaparte, who perchance +stood in a window recess, engaged in some grave, solemn conversation +with an eminent ambassador; her eyes again would glance from her husband +to her son, to this young officer of seventeen years, who now laughed, +jested, and played, as a boy, and then with respectful attention +listened to the conversation of the generals, and whose countenance +beamed with inspiration as they spoke to him of the mighty deeds of war +and the plans of battle of his step-father, whom Eugene loved with the +affection of a son, and the enthusiasm of a disciple who looks up to and +reveres his master. + +Yes, Josephine was happy in these days of Montebello. The past, with +its sad memories, its deceptions and errors, had sunk behind her, and +a luminous future sent its rays upon her at the side of the man whom +jubilant Italy proclaimed "her deliverer," and whom Josephine's joyous +heart acknowledged to be her hero, her beloved. For now she loved him +truly, not with that love of fifteen years past, with the marmoreal +pulse, of which Bonaparte had spoken to her in his letters, but with +all the depth and glow of which a woman's heart is capable, with all +the passion and jealousy of which the heart of a creole alone is +susceptible. + +Happy, sunny days of Montebello! days full of love, of poetry, of +beauty, of happiness!--full of the first, genial, undisturbed, mutual +communion!--days of the first triumphs, of the first homage, of the +first dawn of a brilliant future! Never could the memory of those days +fade away from Josephine's heart; never could the empress, in the long +series of her triumphs and rejoicings, point to an hour like one of +those she had, as the wife of the general, enjoyed at Montebello! + +Every day brought new festivities, new joys, new receptions: balls, +official banquets, select friendly dinners, came by turns; in +brilliant soirees, they received the aristocracy of Lombardy, who, with +ever-growing zeal, struggled for the honor of being received at the +court of Montebello, and to see the doors of the drawing-room of the +wife of General Bonaparte open to them. Sometimes parties were made up +for a chase, of which Berthier acted as master, and who was not a whit +behind in organizing hunting-parties in the style of those of the former +court of Versailles, where he once had acted as page. + +At times, in the warm days of May, the whole company went out together +on the large and splendid piazza which ran along the castle, on the +garden side, and which was supported by slender marble columns, and +whose roof, made of thin wire-work, was thickly shaded by the foliage of +the vine, the ivy, and the delicate leaves of the passion-flower. Here, +resting on the marble settees, one listened in blessed happiness to +the music of bands secreted in some myrtle-grove and playing military +symphonies or patriotic melodies. Then, as the evening faded away, when +the court of Montebello, as the Italians now called the residence of the +general of the republic, had no brilliant reception, they gathered in +the drawing-room, where Josephine, with all the affability of a lady +from the great world, received her guests, and with all the modesty and +grace of a simple housewife served herself the tea. + +These quiet social evenings in the little drawing-room of Josephine, +away from excitement, were among Bonaparte's happiest moments; there, +for a few hours at least, he forgot the mighty cares and schemes which +occupied his mind, and abandoned himself to the joys of society, and +to a cheerful intercourse with his family and friends. In these quiet +evenings Josephine exerted all the art and refinement of her great +social nature to render Bonaparte cheerful and to amuse him. She +sometimes organized a party of vingtet-un, and Bonaparte with his +cards was as eager for the victory as in days past he had been with his +soldiers. Very often, when success did not favor him, and his cards were +not such as suited him, the great general would condescend to correct +fate (de corriger la fortune); and he was much delighted when in his +expertness he succeeded, and, thanks to his correction of fate, obtained +the victory over his play-mates. When the parti was ended, they went +out on the terrace to enjoy the balmy air and refreshing coolness of +the evening, and to take delight in witnessing the enchanting spectacle +afforded by the thousands of little stars with which the fire-flies +illumined the darkness of the summer night and encircled the lake as +with a coronet of emeralds. + +When they grew tired of this, they returned to the drawing-room to +listen to Josephine's fine, full, soul-like voice singing the songs of +her island-home, or else to find amusement in the recital of fairy tales +and marvellous stories. None understood this last accomplishment better +than Bonaparte; and it required only the gracious request, the lovely +smiles of his Josephine, to convert the general into one of those +improvisatores who with their stories, more resembling a dramatic +representation than a narrative, could exalt the Italian mind into +ecstasy, and be ever sure to attract an attentive audience. + +Bonaparte understood the art of holding his audience in suspense, and +keeping them in breathless attention, quite as well as an improvisator +of the Place of St. Mark or of Toledo Street. His stories were always +full of the highest dramatic action and thrilling effect; and it was his +greatest triumph when he saw his hearers turn pale, and when Josephine, +shuddering, clung anxiously to him, as if seeking from the soldier's +hand protection against the fearful ghosts he had evoked. + +After the marvellous stories came grave scientific conversations with +men of learning, whom Bonaparte had invited for the sake of deriving +from their intercourse both interest and instruction. Among these were +the renowned mathematicians Maria Fontana, Monge, and Berthelet; and +the famous astronomer Oriani, whom Bonaparte, through a very flattering +autographic note, had invited to Montebello. + +But Oriani, little accustomed to society and to conversation with any +one but learned men, was very reluctant to come to Montebello, and would +gladly have avoided it had he not been afraid of exciting the wrath +of the great warrior. Bonaparte, surrounded by his generals, his +staff-officers and adjutants, was in the large and splendidly-illumined +drawing-room when Oriani made his appearance. + +The savant, timid and embarrassed, remained near the door, and dared not +advance a single step farther on this brilliant floor, where the lights +of the chandeliers were reflected, and which filled the savant with more +bewilderment than the star-bespangled firmament. + +But Bonaparte's keen eye understood at once his newly-arrived guest; he +advanced eagerly toward him, and as Oriani, stammering and embarrassed, +was endeavoring to say something, but grew silent in the midst of his +speech, the former smilingly asked: + +"What troubles you so much? You are among your friends; we honor +science, and I willingly bow to it." + +"Ah, general," sighed Oriani, sorrowfully, "this magnificence dazzles +me." + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. "What!" said he, looking around with a +contemptuous glance on the mirrors and rich tapestries which adorned the +walls, and on the glittering chandeliers, the embroidered uniforms of +the generals, and the costly toilets of the ladies--"what, do you call +this magnificence? Can these miserable splendors blind the man who every +night contemplates the far more lofty and impressive glories of the +skies?" + +The savant, recalled by these warning words of Bonaparte to the +consciousness of his own dignity, soon recovered his quiet demeanor +and conversed long and gladly with the general, who never grew tired of +putting questions to him, and of gaining from him information. + +But there were also cloudy moments in Montebello, oftentimes +overshadowing the serene sunshine. They came from France--from Rome--and +there were even some which had their origin in Montebello. These clouds +which were formed in Montebello, and which caused slight showers of +tears with Josephine, and little tempests of anger with Bonaparte, were +certainly not of a very serious nature; they owed their origin to a +lapdog, and this pet dog was Fortune, the same which in days gone by had +been the letter-carrier between Josephine and her children when she +was in the Carmelite prison. Notwithstanding Fortune had become old +and peevish, Josephine and her children loved him for the sake of past +reminiscences, while Bonaparte simply hated and detested him. Bonaparte +had, however, perhaps without wishing it, erected for him an abiding +monument in the "Memorial de Ste. Helene," where he gave a report of his +hostilities with the lapdog Fortune, along with those of his wars with +the European powers. + +"I was then," says Bonaparte, in his "Memorial," "the ruler of Italy, +but in my own house I had nothing to say; there Josephine's will was +supreme. There was an ugly, growling personage, at war with everybody, +whose bad qualities made him intolerable to me and to others, yet he was +an important individual, who was by Josephine and her children flattered +from morning till evening, and who was the object of their most delicate +attentions. Fortune, to me a hateful beast, was a horrible lapdog, +with crooked legs and deformed body, without the slightest beauty or +kindness, but of a most malicious disposition. I would gladly have +killed him, and often prayed Heaven to deliver me from him. This +happiness was, however, reserved for me in Montebello. A bull-dog which +belonged to my cook became tired of his churlish incivilities, and not +having the same considerateness as the rest of the inmates of the palace +of Montebello, he attacked the detestable animal so violently as to +kill him on the spot. Then began tears and sighs in the house. Josephine +could not be comforted; Eugene wept, and I myself against my will put +on a sorrowful countenance. But I gained nothing by this fortunate +accident. After Fortune had been stuffed, sung in sonnets, and made +immortal by funeral discourses, he was replaced by two setters, male +and female. Then came the amiable displays and the bickerings of this +love-couple, and afterward their progeny. So that I knew not what to do. + +"Soon after this, as I was walking in the park, I noticed my cook, who, +as soon as he saw me, disappeared on a side-path. + +"'Are you afraid of me?' said I. "' Ah, general,' replied he, timidly, 'you have good reason to be angry +with me.' + +"'I? What have you done?' + +"'My unfortunate dog has indeed killed poor little Fortune.' + +"'Where is your dog?' + +"'He is in the city. God have mercy on us! he dares not come here.' + +"'Listen, my good fellow' (but I spoke in a low voice, for fear of being +heard), 'let your dog run about just as he likes--perhaps he may deliver +me from the others.' + +"But this happiness was not in reserve for me. Josephine, not satisfied +with dogs, soon after this procured a cat, which brought me into a state +of despair; for this detestable animal was the most vicious of its race. +...." [Footnote: Memorial de Ste. Helene.] + +The strifes with Fortune, with the setters, and with the cat, troubled +Bonaparte less than the intrigues which his enemies in Italy, as well +as in France, stirred up against him, and through them endeavored to +destroy him. + +In Italy it was the priests who had sworn deadly enmity to Bonaparte, +and who, with all the weapons which the arsenal of the Church, +fanaticism, and superstition, furnished them, fought against the general +who had dared to break the power of the pope, and to restrict within +narrower limits the rule of the priests. It was these priests who +continually made the most furious opposition to the ascendency which +Bonaparte had won over the Italian mind, and sought constantly to rouse +up, within the minds of the people, opposition to him. + +One day, Marmont announced that a certain Abbe Sergi was exciting the +peasants against the French, and especially against Bonaparte; that he +was preaching sedition and rebellion in Christ's name, and was showing +to the ignorant laborers a letter, which he had received from Christ, +in which it was declared that General Bonaparte was an atheist and a +heretic, whom one ought to destroy and drive away from Italy's sacred +soil. + +Bonaparte at once ordered Marmont to arrest this Abbe Sergi, who lived +in Poncino, and to bring him to Montebello. His orders were followed, +and, after a few days, the captive abbe was brought before the general. +He seemed cheerful, unaffected, and assumed the appearance of being +unconscious of guilt. + +"Are you the man," exclaimed Bonaparte, "to whom Christ writes letters +from Paradise?" + +"Ah! signor general, you are joking," replied the abbe, smiling--but +one of Bonaparte's angry looks fell upon his broad, well-fed face, and +forced the priest into silence. + +"I am not joking," answered Bonaparte, angrily; "you, however, +are joking with the peasants, since you are telling these poor, +superstitious men that you are in correspondence with Christ." + +"Alas! signor general," sighed the abbe, with contrite mien, "I wanted +to do something in the defence of our cause, and what can a poor +clergyman do?--he has no weapons--" + +"Mind that in future you procure other weapons!" interrupted Bonaparte, +vehemently. "That will be better for you than to dare use the Deity for +your schemes of wickedness. I order you to receive no more letters from +Paradise, not even from Christ. Correspond with your equals, and be on +your guard, or you will soon find that I can punish the disobedient!" + +The abbe bowed penitently, and with tears in his eyes. Bonaparte turned +his back to him, and ordered him to be taken to Poncino. + +From that day, however, much as he hated General Bonaparte, the Abbe +Sergi received no more letters from Paradise. + +Nevertheless, the letters of the Abbe Sergi were not those which gave +the most solicitude to Bonaparte; much worse were those he received from +Paris, which gave him an account of the persevering intrigues of his +enemies, and the malicious slanders that were circulated against him by +the Directory, who were envious of his power and superiority, and which +mischievous and poisonous calumnies were re-echoed in the newspapers. + +These insidious attacks of the journals, more than any thing else, +excited Bonaparte's vehement anger. The hero who, on the battle-field, +trembled not before the balls which whizzed about his head, had a +violent dislike to those insect-stings of critics who, like wasps +humming round about the laurel-wreath on his brow, ever found between +the leaves of his fame some place where with their stings they could +wound him, and who was as sensitive as a young blameless maiden would be +against the wasp-stings of slander. + +This irritable sensitiveness led him to consider those detestable +attacks of the journals worth a threatening denunciation to the +Directory. + +"Citizen-directors," wrote he to them, "I owe you an open confession; my +heart is depressed and filled with horror through the constant attacks +of the Parisian journals. Sold to the enemies of the republic, they +rush upon me, who am boldly defending the republic. 'I am keeping the +plunder,' whilst I am defeating them; 'I affect despotism,' whilst I +speak only as general-in-chief; 'I assume supreme power,' and yet I +submit to law! Every thing I do is turned to a crime against me; the +poison streams over me. + +"Were any one in Italy to dare give utterance to the one-thousandth part +of those calumnies, I would impose upon him an awful silence! + +"In Paris, this is allowed to go on unpunished, and your tolerance is an +encouragement. The Directory is thus producing the impression that it is +opposed to me. If the directors suspect me, let them say so, and I will +justify myself. If they are convinced of my uprightness, let them defend +me. + +"In this circle of argument, I include the Directory with me, and cannot +go beyond it. My desire is, to be useful to my country. Must I, for +reward, drink the cup of poison? + +"I can no longer be satisfied with empty, evasive arguments; and if +justice is not done to me, then I must take it myself. Therefore, I am +yours. Salutation and brotherly love. BONAPAKTE." + +But all these vexations, hostilities, and calumnies, were, however, +as already said, mere clouds, which now and then obscured the bright +sunshine at the court of Montebello. At a smile or a loving word from +Josephine, they flew away rapidly, and the sunshine again in all +its splendor, the pleasures, feasts, and joys, continued in their +undisturbed course. All Italy did homage to the conqueror, and it was +therefore very natural that sculptors and painters should endeavor to +draw some advantage from this enthusiasm for its deliverer, and that +they should endeavor to represent to the admirers of Bonaparte his +peculiar form and countenance. + +But Bonaparte did not like to have his portrait painted. The staring, +watchful gaze of an artist was an annoyance to him; it made him restless +and anxious, as if he feared that the scrutinizing look at his face +might read the secrets of his soul. Yet at Josephine's tender and +pressing request he had consented to its being taken by a young painter, +Le Gros, whose distinguished talent had been brought to his notice. + +Le Gros came therefore to Montebello, happy in the thought that he could +immortalize himself through a successful portrait of the hero whom he +honored with all the enthusiasm of a young heart. But he waited in vain +three days for Bonaparte to give him a sitting. The general had not one +instant to spare for the unfortunate young artist. + +At last, at Josephine's pressing request, Bonaparte consented on the +fourth day to sit for him one-quarter of an hour after breakfast. Le +Gros came therefore delighted, at the time appointed, into the cabinet +of Josephine, and had his easel ready, awaiting the moment when +Bonaparte would sit in the arm-chair opposite. But, alas! the painter's +hopes were not to be realized. The general could not bring himself to +sit in that arm-chair, doing nothing but keeping his head quiet, so +that the painter might copy his features. He had no sooner been seated, +than he sprang up suddenly, and declared it was quite impossible to +endure such martyrdom. + +Le Gros dared not repeat his request, but with tears in his eyes +gathered up his painting-materials. Josephine smiled. "I see very well," +said she, "that I must have recourse to some extraordinary means to save +for me and for posterity a portrait of the hero of Arcola." + +She sat down in the arm-chair, and beckoned to Le Gros to have his easel +in readiness. Then with a tender voice she called Napoleon to her, and +opening both arms she drew him down on her lap, and in this way she +induced him to sit down quietly a few moments and allow the painter the +sight of his face, thus enabling him to sketch the portrait. [Footnote: +"Memoires et Souvenirs du Comte Lavalette," vol. i., p. 168.] + +At the end of this peculiar sitting, Bonaparte smilingly promised that +he would next day grant the painter a second one, provided Josephine +would again have the "extraordinary means" ready. She consented, and for +four days in succession Le Gros was enabled to sit before him a quarter +of an hour, and throw upon his canvas the features of the general, while +he quietly sat on Josephine's lap. + +This picture, which Le Gros thus painted, thanks to the sweet ruse of +Josephine, and which was scattered throughout Europe in copperplate +prints, represented Bonaparte, with uncovered head, holding a standard +in his hand, and with his face turned toward his soldiers, calling on +them to follow him as he dashed on the bridge of Arcola, amid a shower +of Austrian balls. + +It is a beautiful, imposing picture, and contemporaries praised it for +its likeness to the hero, but no one could believe that this pale, grave +countenance, these gloomy eyes, and earnest lips, which seemed incapable +of a smile, were those of Bonaparte as he sat on the lap of his beloved +Josephine when Le Gros was painting it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE PEACE OF CAMPO FORMIO. + + +After three months the time drew nigh when the peace negotiations +were to reach a final conclusion, and when it was to be decided if the +Emperor of Germany would make peace with the French republic or if he +would renew the war. + +For three months had the negotiations continued in Montebello--three +months of feasts, pleasures, and receptions. To the official and public +rejoicings had been also added domestic joys. Madame Letitia came to +Italy to warm her happy, proud mother's heart at the triumphs of her +darling son; and she brought with her her daughter Pauline, while the +youngest, Caroline, remained behind in Madame Campan's +boarding-school. It could not be otherwise than that the sisters of +the commander-in-chief, whose true beauty reminded one of the classic +features of ancient Greece, should find among the officers of the army +of Italy most enthusiastic admirers and worshippers, and that many +should long for the favor of being more intimately connected by the ties +of affection with the celebrated general. + +Bonaparte left his sisters entirely free to make a choice among their +suitors, and he hesitated not to give his consent when Pauline became +affianced to General Leclerc. After a few weeks, the marriage was +celebrated in Montebello; and, soon after, the happy couple left that +city to return to Paris, whither Madame Letitia had preceded them. + +Josephine, however, remained with her husband; she accompanied him from +Montebello to Milan, where Bonaparte, now that the Austrian envoys had +taken their leave, tarried some time, awaiting the final decision of the +Austrian court upon his propositions. Meanwhile, the imperial court, +for good reasons, still hesitated. It was known that in France there was +secretly preparing an event which in a short time might bring on a new +order of things, putting an end to the hateful republic, and once more +placing the Bourbons on the throne of the lilies. + +General Pichegru, a zealous royalist, and intimate friend of the Prince +de Conde, with whom he had been in secret correspondence for several +months, had organized a conspiracy which had for its object the downfall +of the Directory, the ruin of the republican administration, the recall +of the monarchy to Paris, and the re-establishment of the Bourbons. + +But General Moreau, who, with his army on the Rhine, stood opposite to +that of the royalists, had the good fortune to discover the conspiracy, +by intercepting Pichegru's whole correspondence. The Directory, informed +by Moreau, took secretly precautionary measures, and on the 18th +Fructidor, Pichegru, with all his real or supposed guilty companions, +was arrested. To these guilty ones belonged also, according to +the opinion of the Directory, two out of their number, Carnot and +Barthelemy, besides twenty-two deputies and one hundred and twenty-eight +others, all among the educated classes of society. These were exiled +to Cayenne; Carnot alone escaped from this distant and cruel exile by a +timely flight to Geneva. + +The 18th Fructidor, which disarmed the royalists and destroyed their +plans, had a great influence upon the negotiations carried on between +France and Austria, which were entangled with so many difficulties. +Austria, which had vacillated and delayed--for she was informed of the +schemes of the royalists, and hoped that if Louis XVIII. should ascend +the throne, she would be delivered from all the burdensome exactions +of the republic--now saw that this abortive attempt had removed the +royalists still further from their object and more firmly consolidated +the republic; she was therefore inclined to push on negotiations more +speedily, and to show greater readiness to bring on a final settlement. + +The conferences broken off in Montebello were resumed in Udine. Thither +came the Austrian and French plenipotentiaries. Bonaparte, however, +felt that his presence was also necessary, so as not to allow these +conferences again to remain in abeyance. He therefore, accompanied by +Josephine, went to Passeriano, a beautiful residence of the Doge +Marini, not far from Udine, charmingly situated on the shores of the +Tagliamento, and in the midst of a splendid park. But the residence +in Passeriano was not enlivened by the pleasures, recreations, and +festivities of Montebello. Politics alone occupied Bonaparte's mind, and +not only the peace negotiations, but also the Directory of the republic, +furnished him with too many occasions for ill-will and anger. + +Austria, which had added the Count von Coblentz to her +plenipotentiaries, adhered obstinately to her former claims; and the +Directory, which now felt stronger and more secure by their victory of +the 18th Fructidor, were so determined not to accept these claims, +that they wrote to General Bonaparte that they would sooner resume +hostilities than concede to "the overpowered, treacherous Austria, +sworn into all the conspiracies of the royalists, her unreasonable +pretensions." + +But Bonaparte knew better than the proud lords of the Directory, that +France needed peace as well as Austria; that France lacked gold, +men, and ammunition, for the vigorous prosecution of the war. While, +therefore, the Directory, enthroned in the Luxemburg, amid peace and +luxury, desired a renewal of hostilities, it was the man of battles who +desired peace, and who was inclined to make to Austria insignificant +concessions sooner than see the work of peace dashed to pieces. + +The sole recreation in Passeriano consisted in the banquets which +were interchanged between it and Udine, and where Josephine found much +pleasure, at least in the conversation of the Count von Coblentz, +who could speak to her with spirit and grace of his sojourn in +Petersburg--of Catharine the Great, at whose court he had been +accredited so long as ambassador from Austria, and who had even granted +him the privilege of being present at her private evening circles at the +Hermitage. + +Bonaparte was still busy with the glowing tenderness of a worshipping +lover, in procuring for his Josephine pleasures and recreations, as each +favorable opportunity presented itself. + +The republic of Venice, now laboring under the greatest anxiety and fear +on account of Bonaparte's anger at her perfidy and enmity, had descended +from the height of her proud attitude to the most abject humility. Her +solicitude for mere existence made her so far forget her dignity, that +she humbly invited Bonaparte, whose loud voice of anger pronounced only +vengeance and destruction, to come and receive in person their homage +and the assurance of their loyalty. + +Bonaparte refused this invitation as regarded his own person, for in +his secret thoughts the ruin of Venice was a settled matter; and as +the death-warrant of this republic of terror and secret government was +already signed in his thoughts, he could not accept her feasts and her +homage. But he did not wish before the time to betray to the republic +his own conclusions, and his refusal to accept their invitation ought +not to have the appearance of a hostile demonstration. He therefore sent +to Venice a representative, who, in his name, was to receive the +humble homage and the assurances of friendship from the republic. This +representative was Josephine, and she gladly undertook this mission, +without foreseeing that Venice, which adorned itself for her sake with +flowers and festivities, was but the crowned victim at the eve of the +sacrifice. + +As Bonaparte himself could not accompany his wife, he sent with her +as an escort the ex-magistrate Marmont; and in his memoirs the latter +relates with enthusiasm the feasts which the republic of Venice gave +in honor of the general upon whom, as she well knew, her future fate +depended. + +"Madame Bonaparte," says he, "was four days in Venice. I accompanied +her hither. Three days were devoted to the most splendid feasts. On +the first day there was a regatta, a species of amusement which +seems reserved only to Venice, the queen of the sea. ... Six or seven +gondolas, each manned by one or two oarsmen, perform a race which begins +at St. Mark's Square, and ends at the Rialto bridge. These gondolas +seem to fly; persons who have never seen them can form no idea of their +swiftness. The beauty of the representation consists especially in the +immense gatherings of the spectators. The Italians are extremely fond of +this spectacle; they come from great distances on the continent to see +it; there is not in Venice an individual who rushes not to the Canal +Grande to enjoy the spectacle; and during the time of the regatta of +which I am speaking, the wharves on the Canal Grande were covered with +at least one hundred and fifty thousand persons, all full of curiosity. +More than five hundred small and large barges, adorned with flowers, +flags, and tapestries, followed the contesting gondolas. + +"The second day we had a sea-excursion; a banquet had been prepared on +the Lido: the population followed in barges adorned with wreaths and +flowers, and to the sound of music re-echoing far and near. + +"The third day, a night promenade took place. The palace of the doge, +and the houses along the Canal Grande, were illuminated in the most +brilliant manner, and gave light to hundreds of gondolas, which also +were made luminous with divers-colored lamps. After a promenade of two +hours, and a splendid display of fireworks in the midst of the waters, +the ball opened in the palace of the doge. When we think of the means +which the situation of Venice offers, the beauty of her architecture, +the wonderful animation of the thousand gondolas closely pressed +together, causing the impression of a city in motion; and when we think +of the great exertions which such an occasion would naturally call +forth, the brilliant imagination of this people so remarkable for its +refined taste, and its burning lusts for pleasure--then we can form some +idea of the wondrous spectacle presented by Venice in those days. It was +no more the mighty Venice, it was the elegant, the luxurious Venice." +[Footnote: "Memoires du Due de Raguse," vol. i., p. 287.] + +After those days of festivities, Josephine, the queen of them, returned +to the quietude of Passeriano, which, after the sunshine of Venice, must +have appeared to her still more gloomy and sad. + +But Bonaparte himself was weary of all this useless repose, and he +resolved with a daring blow to cut into shreds those diplomatic knots of +so many thousand interwoven threads. + +The instrument with which he was to give the blow was not the sword--it +was not that which Alexander had used, but it was a cup. This cup, at a +dejeuner given to him by the Count von Coblentz, where was displayed the +costly porcelain service presented to him by the Empress Catharine, was +dashed at the feet of the Count von Coblentz by Bonaparte, who, with a +thundering voice, exclaimed: "In fourteen days I will dash to pieces the +Austrian monarchy as I now break this!" + +The Count von Coblentz, infuriated at this, was still staring in +bewilderment at the fragments of the imperial gift, when Bonaparte left +the room, to enter his carriage. With a loud voice he called to one of +the officers of his suite, and gave him orders to go at once to the +camp of the Archduke Charles, and to tell him, in the name of General +Bonaparte, that the peace negotiations were broken, and that hostilities +would be resumed next day. + +But as Bonaparte was going toward his carriage, he met the Marquis de +Gallo, who besought him to re-enter the room; he assured him that it +had been resolved to accept Bonaparte's ultimatum--that is to say, to +renounce all claims to the fortress of Mantua. + +On the next day [Footnote: The 17th of October, 1797.] the treaty of +peace between Austria and France was signed. It had been decided that +the ceremony of signing it should take place in the village of Campo +Formio, which for this reason was declared to be neutral ground. It lay +midway between Udine and Passeriano; and Bonaparte sent his adjutant, +Marmont, into the village to select a house where the ceremony might +take place. But there was not a single building which was in any way +fitted to receive such distinguished guests. The Austrian diplomats, +therefore, consented to come to Passeriano to ratify the terms of +peace, provided, it should be named after the neutral territory of Campo +Formio. + +The Count von Coblentz and the Marquis de Gallo passed the whole day at +Passeriano, in the company of Bonaparte and Josephine. In Josephine's +drawing-room each abandoned himself to the most cheerful and unaffected +conversation, while at the same time the secretaries of both the +Austrian and French embassies were in the cabinet of the French general, +writing two copies of the mutual agreements of peace which were to be +signed by Bonaparte and by the Austrian plenipotentiaries. + +During the whole day Bonaparte was in high spirits. He had reached his +aim: the strife was over; diplomatic bickerings were at rest; the small +as well as the great war was ended; peace was gained at last! Bonaparte +had, not only on the battle-field, but also at the green-table, been +victorious; he had not only overcome Austria, but also the Directory. +During the whole day he remained in the drawing-room with Josephine and +his Austrian guests, and without any affectation he took his part in +the conversation. It was so pleasant to him to be thus in confidential +intercourse, that, as the evening came on, he would not allow lights to +be brought into the drawing-room. As if they were in a sociable family +circle, in some old remote castle, they amused themselves in relating +ghost-stories, and here, too, Bonaparte won a victory. His story +surpassed all others in horrors and thrilling fears, and the dramatic +mode of its delivery increased its effect. Josephine became excited +as if by some living reality; and while Bonaparte, with an affrighted, +trembling voice, was describing how the door opened, how the +blood-stained ghost with hollow eyes entered, she screamed aloud, and +tremblingly clung to his arm. + +At this moment it was announced that the secretaries had prepared +the documents of the treaty, and that nothing was wanting to make it +operative but the signatures. + +Bonaparte laughingly thanked his Josephine with a kiss for the +flattering effect produced by his ghost-story, and then he hastened +into his cabinet to attach his signature to the peace of Campo Formio. +[Footnote: Lavalette, "Memoires," vol. i., p. 250.] + +This peace gave to France the left bank of the Rhine, with the fortress +of Mayence: it delivered Italy from the rule of Austria, but it repaid +Austria by giving her possession of the beautiful city of the lagoons, +Venice, which made Austria mistress of the Adriatic Sea. + +Peace was concluded, and now Bonaparte, with his laurels and victories, +could return to Paris; now he could hope that he had swept away, +from the memory even of his adversaries, the sad success of the 13th +Vendemiaire, by the series of brilliant victories and conquests which he +had obtained in the name of their common country. + +Bonaparte prepared himself therefore to return home to France. But the +Emperor of Germany, full of admiration for the hero of Arcola, and of +joy at a peace which had given him Venice, and which gave to France +little more than the captured cannon, standards, and prisoners, but +undying glory, wished to show himself thankful to Bonaparte. He offered +to the general millions of treasure, and, still more, a magnificent +estate, and promised him the title of duke. + +But Bonaparte refused alike the money and the title. As a simple French +general he wished to return to France, and, though in future days he +created at his will many dukes, he now disdained to become a duke by +the grace of the Emperor of Germany. He accepted nothing out of all the +offered presents, but six splendid gray horses which the Emperor Francis +had sent him from his own stalls. Bonaparte had won too many victories, +to need the title of a German duke; he had obtained a sufficiently +ample share of the war-booty not to need the wealth and the treasures of +sovereign gifts. He was no longer the poor general, of whom his enemies +could say that he had married the widow of General de Beauharnais +on account of her riches and of her influence; he now, besides fame, +possessed a few millions of francs, which, as a small portion of his +share of the victory's rewards, he brought home with him. + +His work in Italy was accomplished; and in Milan, whither Bonaparte had +returned with Josephine, they bade each other farewell: they wished to +return to Paris by different routes. + +Bonaparte desired first to go to Rastadt, there to attend the great +peace congress of Germany and France. His journey thither was a complete +triumph. He was everywhere received with enthusiasm; everywhere the +people applauded the conqueror of so many battles, the hero who, +only twenty-eight years old, had, by his series of victories, gained +immortality. His reception in Berne, especially, was enthusiastic +and flattering; both sides of his pathway were lined with brilliant +equipages, and the beautiful, richly apparelled ladies who sat in them +threw him kisses, crowns of flowers and bouquets, shouting, "Long live +the peace-maker!" + +He travelled over Mount Cenis to Rastadt, where he found in the crowd of +German and French diplomats many generals and learned men, who had come +there to see the man whom his very enemies admired, amongst whom he was +nearly as popular as with his friends. However, Bonaparte remained but a +few days there; for, after having attended the opening of the Congress, +he pursued his journey to Paris, where he arrived on the 6th of +December. + +Josephine, as we have already said, did not accompany her husband to +Paris. Before leaving Italy, she desired to accomplish two objects of +her heart. She wished to see Rome, the everlasting city of fame and of +arts, the city of the ancient gods, and of the seat of St. Peter; and +she wished also to embrace her son Eugene, who was there as an attache +of Joseph Bonaparte, the ambassador of the French republic. Wherever she +went, she was received with enthusiasm, not only as the wife of Italy's +deliverer, but also on account of her personal merits. Through her +affability, her amiableness, and her sweet disposition, which shunned +every haughty exaltation, and yet was never lacking in dignity or in +reserve--through the goodness of her heart, which was ever ready to help +the unfortunate--through all those exquisite and praiseworthy qualities +which adorned and beautified her, she had won the love and admiration +of all Italy; and long afterward, when the deliverer of Italy had +become her lord and her oppressor, when she had no longer cause to love +Bonaparte, but only to curse him, Italy preserved for Josephine a memory +full of admiration and love. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. DAYS OF TRIUMPH. + + +On the 5th of December, 1797, Bonaparte returned to Paris; and, a few +days after, Josephine arrived also. In her little hotel, in the Street +Chautereine, where she had passed so many bright and happy days, she +hoped, after so many storms and hardships, to enjoy again new and +cheerful sunny days of domestic enjoyments--she hoped to rest from +all those triumphs which had accompanied at each step both her and her +husband. + +This hope, however, was not to be realized, for greater triumphs still +than those she had enjoyed in Italy awaited Bonaparte in Paris. The days +of quietude, and the pleasures of home, which Josephine so much loved, +and which she so well understood how to embellish with friendships and +joys, were now forever past away. Placed at the side of a hero whose +fame already filled all Europe, she could no longer calculate upon +living in modest retirement, as she would have wished to do: it was +her lot to share his burden of glory, as she also was illumined by its +beams. + +From this moment nothing of former days remained; all was changed, all +was altered by Bonaparte's laurels and victories. He was no more the +servant of the republic, he was nearly its master; he had not only +defeated Austria in Italy, but he had also defeated in France the +Directory, which had sent him as its general to Italy, and which now saw +him return home as the master of the five monarchs of France. + +Every thing now, as already said, assumed a new shape: even the house +in which they lived, the street in which this house stood, had to be +changed. Hitherto this street had been called "Rue Chautereine;" since +Bonaparte's return the municipality of Paris gave it the name "Rue de +la Victoire," and now to this Street of Victory the people of Paris +streamed forth to see the conqueror; to stand there patiently for hours +before the little hotel, and watch for the moment when at one of the +windows the pale countenance of Bonaparte, with his long, smooth hair, +might appear. + +Even the little hotel was to be altered. Bonaparte--who, in earlier +days, had described, as his dream of happiness, the possession of a +house, of a cabriolet, and to have at his table the company of a few +friends, with his Josephine--now found that the little house in the Rue +de la Victoire was too small for him; that it must be altered even as +the street had been. The modest and tasteful arrangements which had +sufficed the Widow Josephine de Beauharnais, appeared now to her young +husband as insufficient; the little saloon, in which at one time he had +felt so happy at the side of the viscountess, was no longer suited to +his actual wants. Large reception-rooms and vestibules were needed, +magnificent furniture was necessary, for the residence of the conqueror +of Italy, in the Rue de la Victoire. + +Architects were engaged to enlarge and transform the small house into +a large hotel, and it was left to Josephine's taste to convert the +hitherto elegant private dwelling into a magnificent residence for the +renowned general who had to be daily in readiness to receive +official visits, delegations of welcome from the authorities, and the +institutions of Paris, and from the other cities of France. + +For France was desirous to pay her homage to the hero of Arcola, and to +celebrate his genius--to wish him prosperity, and to applaud him. The +Directory had to adapt themselves to the universal sentiment; to pay +their respects to the general with a cheerful mien and with friendly +alacrity, while at heart they looked on him with vexation and envy. +Bonaparte's popularity filled them with anxiety and fearful misgivings. + +But it was necessary to submit to this; the public sentiment required +those festivities in honor of the general of the republic, and the five +directors in the Luxemburg had no longer the power to guillotine the +public sentiment, the true king of Paris, as once they had guillotined +King Louis. + +The directors, therefore, inaugurated brilliant festivities; +they received the conqueror of Italy in the Luxemburg with great +demonstrations of solemnity, in which the Parisians took a part. In +the immense court in front of the residence of the directors this +celebration took place. In the midst of the open place a lofty platform +was erected; it was the country's altar, on which the gigantic statues +of Freedom, Equality, and of Peace, were lifted up. Around this altar +was a second platform, with seats for the five hundred, the deputies, +and the authorities; the standards conquered in the Italian war formed +over the seats of the five directors a sort of canopy: they were, +however, to them as the sword of Damocles, ready to fall upon them at +any moment and destroy them. + +The directors, dressed in brilliant antique robes, created no +impression, notwithstanding their theatrical splendor, in comparison +with the sensation produced by the simple, unaffected appearance of +General Bonaparte. He wore the plain green uniform which he had worn at +Arcola and Lodi; his suite was limited to a few officers only, who, like +himself, appeared in their ordinary uniforms, which they had worn on +the battle-field. The two generals, Andreossy and Joubert, carried +the standards which the Legislative Assembly, two years before, had +presented to the army of Italy, and upon which could now be read the +names of sixty-seven battles won. + +At one of the windows of the palace of the Luxemburg, Josephine watched +this strange celebration, the splendors of which made her heart beat +with delight, and filled her eyes with tears of joy. Near her was her +daughter Hortense, lately withdrawn from Madame Campan's institution, +to be with her mother, who, full of ecstasy and pride, gazed at the +charming maiden at her side, just blooming into a young lady; and then +beyond, at that pale young man with pensive eyes standing near yonder +altar, and before whom all the authorities of Paris bowed--who was her +husband, her Bonaparte, everywhere conqueror! Before her only was he the +conquered! She listened with a happy smile to the long speech with which +Talleyrand saluted Bonaparte in the name of his country; she heard how +Barras, concealing within himself his jealousy and his envy, welcomed +him; how with admiration he praised him; how he said that Nature, in +one of her most exalted and greatest moments, had resolved to produce a +masterpiece, and had given to the wondering world Bonaparte! + +And then, after this affected harangue, Josephine saw how Barras, with +tears of emotion, embraced Bonaparte, and how the other Directors of +France followed his example. A slight sarcastic smile for a moment +played on Josephine's lips, for she well knew how little this friendship +and this love of the Directory were to be trusted, how little sincerity +was contained in the sentiments which they so publicly manifested toward +the conqueror. + +With love's anxiety and a woman's instinct, she watched over her hero; +she was ever busy to track out the meandering paths of his foes, to +destroy the nets wherein they wished to entangle his feet. She had even +braved the jealous wrath of Bonaparte when it was necessary to ferret +out some intrigue of the Directory. The special spy, whom Barras had +sent to Italy to watch the movements of Bonaparte, and to give him early +reports of every word, Botot, had been received by Josephine with a +friendly smile and with great attention; she manifested toward him a +confiding friendship, and thus succeeded in discovering his secret, +and behind the seeming friend to unveil the cunning spy of Bonaparte's +enemies. She could therefore meet Bonaparte's anger with serene brow +and pure conscience; and when he accused her of frivolity and +unfaithfulness, she justified herself before him by unveiling the secret +schemes and machinations of his foes. And these foes were chiefly the +five directors. He therefore knew very well what he was to expect from +the embraces, the tears, the kisses of Barras; and the flattering +words which he spoke to him in the presence of the Parisians made no +impression whatever on Bonaparte's heart. + +But the applause with which the people of Paris received him was not +deceitful, like that of the Directory; the respect they paid him was not +forced, and their applause therefore filled the hearts of Josephine +and Bonaparte with joy. Wherever he appeared, he was greeted with +loud demonstrations of joy; the poets praised him in their songs, the +musicians sang hymns in his honor, and the men of science brought to him +proofs of their esteem. The Institute of Sciences named him one of their +members in the place of Carnot; the painters and architects paid him +homage with their works. The renowned painter David requested the honor +of taking Bonaparte's portrait, and the general acceded to his wishes +because Josephine had promised that the painter's request should be +granted. David desired to paint him on horseback near the bridge of Lodi +or of Arcola, and he placed before him a sketch he had made for this +picture. But Bonaparte rejected it. + +"No," said he, "I was not there alone, I conquered only with the whole +army. Place me there, quiet and calm, seated upon a fiery horse." + +What did Bonaparte mean by this "fiery horse"? Are his words to be +understood in all their beauty and simplicity? or did he, by the +restless horse, which he so calmly reins in, already think of the +republic which, under the guidance of his masterly hand, was one day +to be converted into an empire? Who could read the depths of this man's +heart, which screened itself so carefully, and whose secrets in regard +to the future he dared not divulge even to his beloved Josephine? + +The first few weeks after their return from Italy were passed away amid +festivities and demonstrations of respect. Josephine abandoned herself +to this pomp with a high spirit, and with a deep love for enjoyment. Her +whole being was thoroughly interpenetrated with the warmth of this new +sun, which had risen over her in so wondrous a light, and surrounded her +with its lustrous rays. All these festivities, banquets, representations +at the grand opera, and at the Theatre Francais, these public ovations +which accompanied Bonaparte at every step, at every promenade, at every +attendance at the theatre,--all these marks of honor elated Josephine, +filling her with an enthusiastic pride for the hero, the man whom she +now loved with all the excitability of a woman's heart, and over whom +fame rested as a halo, and which made him appear to Josephine still +greater and more exalted. To him alone now belonged her whole heart and +being; and now for the first time she experienced those nervous spasms +of jealousy which at a later date were to mix so many bitter drops of +gall in the golden cup of her greatness. + +At the ovations, the tokens of affection on the part of gentlemen +delighted her, but she had no thanks for the ladies when, with their +enthusiasm, brilliant eyes, bewitching smiles, and flattering words, +they endeavored to manifest their adoration and gratitude to the hero of +Italy; she could barely keep back her tears when, at the reception which +Talleyrand, the minister of foreign affairs, gave to Bonaparte, the +beautiful songstress Grassini appeared, and, with her entrancing voice, +sang the fame of the conqueror who had bound captive to his triumphal +car, as the most precious booty, the proud songstress herself. + +The Directory, however, would have gladly allowed the ladies to take +part in this enthusiasm if the men had taken no share in it; but +the admiration which they had everywhere manifested so strongly +for Bonaparte, had completely overshadowed their own greatness and +importance. They were no longer the monarchs of France--Bonaparte alone +seemed to be its ruler--and their envious jealousy told them that +it would require but a sign from his hand to impart to the French +government a new form, to disenthrone the five directors, and to place +himself in their position. The sole aim was, therefore, to remove +Bonaparte as soon as practicable from Paris, and if possible from +France, so as to check his popularity, and to oppose his ever-growing +power. + +Bonaparte was but little inclined to meet these views of the Directory, +and to accept the propositions made to him. He declined at once to go +to Rastadt, there to attend to the discussions of the congress, with +as much resolution as he had refused to go to Rome to punish the +papal government for the enmity it had shown to Prance. He left it to +diplomats to prattle in Rastadt over the green-table, and to General +Berthier to punish the papal government, and to drive Pius out of the +Eternal City, the seat of St. Peter, and erect there the altar of the +republic of Rome. + +There were greater and loftier aims which Bonaparte now sought--and +fame, which he loved quite as much as Josephine did, and was soon to +love even more, was enticing him on to paths yet untrodden, where no +hero of past ages had sought for it. + +In Egypt, near the pyramids of four thousand years, he desired to gather +fresh laurels; from thence the astonished world was to hear the wondrous +recitals of his victories. His lively fancy already imagined his name +written on those gigantic monuments of past ages, the only earthly +creations which have in themselves nearly the character of immortality. +With his mighty deeds he wished to surpass all the heroes of modern +times; he desired to rival Caesar and Alexander. + +Caesar had won fifty battles, Bonaparte wanted to win a hundred. +Alexander had gone from Macedonia to the temple of Jupiter Ammon, +Bonaparte wished to leave Paris to obtain victories at the cataracts of +the Nile. + +The bitterness which existed between the Directory and Bonaparte was +increasing more and more. He no longer spoke to the five monarchs as +an obedient, submissive son of the republic; he spoke as their lord and +master; he threatened when his will was not obeyed; he was wroth when he +met with opposition. And the Directory had not the courage to reproach +him for his undutiful conduct, or to enter the lists with him to dispute +for the sovereignty, for they well knew that public sentiment would +declare itself in his favor, that Paris would side with the general if +matters were to come to a crisis between them. It was therefore better +and wiser to avoid this strife, and, under some good pretext, remove +Bonaparte and open to him some distant pathway to fame, so as to be rid +of him. + +Egypt was far enough from Paris to give to the Directory guaranties +of security, and it fell in with Bonaparte's plans. It was resolved +therefore to send an expedition to Egypt, and he was appointed its +commander-in-chief. + +Bonaparte had directed his eyes to the East when in Passeriano he was +making peace with Austria. In Egypt were the battle-fields which were to +surround his name with a fresh halo of glory. + +Josephine learned this resolution of Bonaparte with fear and anxiety, +but she dared not betray this to any one, since this expedition was to +remain a secret to all the world. Only in private could her tears flow, +only before Bonaparte could she complain. Once, as she encircled him +convulsively with her arms, her mind full of misgivings and her eyes of +tears she asked him how many years he thought of remaining in Egypt. + +She had put this question only in a jesting form. He took it in full +earnestness, and answered: + +"Either a few months or six years. All depends upon circumstances. I +must win Egypt to civilization. I will gather there artists, learned +men, mechanics of all trades, even women--dancers, songstresses, and +actresses. I want to mould Egypt into a second France. One can do a +great deal in six years. I am now twenty-nine years old, I shall be +thirty-five when I return--that is not old. But I shall want more than +six years if I go to India." [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. ii., p. 49.] + +Josephine cried aloud with anguish and horror, and, embracing him in +her arms, implored him with all the delicate tenderness of her anxious +affection not to thrust her aside, but to allow her to accompany him to +Egypt. + +But Bonaparte refused, and this time her tears, which he had never +before denied, were fruitless. He felt that Josephine's presence would +damp his ardent courage, retard his onward march, and that he would +not have the necessary fearless energy to incur risks and perils if +Josephine were to be threatened by their consequences. He could not +expose her to the privations and restless wanderings of a campaign, and +his burning love for her was too real for him to yield to her wishes. + +Josephine, meanwhile, was not silenced by his refusal; she persevered in +her supplications, and Bonaparte, at last softened by her prayers, was +obliged to come to terms. It was decided that Josephine should follow +him to Egypt, that he would select a place of residence and prepare +every thing for her reception there, so that she might without danger or +too much inconvenience undertake the journey. + +But before commencing such an undertaking, Josephine's health needed +recruiting; she was to go to the baths of Plombieres, and Bonaparte was +to hold a ship in readiness in Toulon to bring her to Egypt. + +The ship which was chosen to transport her was the Pomona, the same +in which, when only sixteen years old, she had come from Martinique to +France. Then she had gone forth to an unknown world and to an unknown +husband; now she was on the same ship to undertake a journey to an +unknown world, but it was a beloved husband whom she was going to meet, +and love gave her the strength to do so. + +Josephine, full of the sweetest confidence that she was soon to follow +Bonaparte, and hereafter to see him again, accompanied him to Toulon. +She had the strength to repress her tears as she bade him farewell, and +to smile as he entreated her to keep her heart faithful to him. + +She showed herself at this separation stronger than Bonaparte himself, +for while her eyes were bright with joyous love, his were sad and +obscured by tears. + +The difference was this: Bonaparte knew that he was bidding farewell to +Josephine for long years; she trusted that in a few months she would be +reunited to him. + +Bonaparte imprinted a last kiss on the lips of Josephine. She embraced +him tenderly in her arms, and, to shield herself against the deep +anguish of the separation, she cried aloud: + +"In three months we meet again! The Pomona, which brought me to France, +will bear me back to my hero, to my Achilles! In three months I shall be +with you again. You have often called me the star of your fortune. How +could this star abandon you when you are going to fight against your +foes?" + +He gazed at her with a look at once full of deep love and sorrow: + +"Josephine," said he, solemnly, "my enemies are neither in Asia nor +in Africa, but they are all in France. I leave you behind me in their +midst, for you to watch them, and to unravel their schemes. Think +of this, and be my strong and prudent wife." [Footnote: Bonaparte's +words.--See Le Normand, vol. i., p. 278.] + +Deeply moved, he turned away, and hastened from her to the boat that was +to bear him to the flag-ship, which was waiting only for the commanding +general to come aboard before weighing anchor. + + + + +BOOK III. THE EMPRESS AND THE DIVORCED. + + +CHAPTER XXX. PLOMBIERES AND HALMAISON. + + +While Bonaparte with the French fleet was sailing toward the East, +there, in the wide valley of the Nile, to win a new fame, Josephine +started for Plombieres, where she had requested her daughter Hortense +to meet her. The splendid scenery and pleasant quietude of Plombieres +offered at least some comfort and satisfaction to Josephine, whose +heart was not yet healed from the anguish of separation. Her greatest +consolation was the thought that in a few months she would go to her +husband; that the Pomona would bear her to him who now possessed her +whole soul, and surrounded her whole being with an enchantment which was +to cease only with her life. + +She counted the days, the weeks, which separated her from the wished-for +journey; she waited with impatient longing for the news that the Pomona, +which needed a few repairs, was ready and all prepared for the distant +but welcome voyage. + +Her sole recreation consisted in the company of, and in the cordial +fellowship with Hortense, now grown up a young lady, and the +companionship of a few intimate ladies who had followed her to +Plombieres. Surrounded by these, she either sat in her drawing-room, +busy with some manual labor, or else, followed by a single servant, she +and Hortense made long walks in the wonderfully romantic vicinity of +Plombieres. + +One morning she was in the drawing-room with her friends, working with +the needle, conversing, and finding recreation in stepping through the +wide-open folding-doors upon the balcony, from which a most enchanting +view could be had of the lovely valley, and the mountains which stood +round about it. While there, busily embroidering a rose, one of her +friends, who had gone to the balcony, called her to come quickly to +admire a remarkably small greyhound which was passing down the street. +Josephine, whose love for dogs had made Napoleon pass many a restless +hour, hastened to obey her friend's call, and went out upon the balcony, +whither the rest of the ladies followed her, all curious to see the +greyhound which had set Madame de Cambis into such an excitement. But +the weight of these six ladies, gathered close together on the balcony, +was too heavy for the plank and joist-work loosely put together. A +fearful crash was heard; and as Hortense, who had remained in the +drawing-room, busy with her painting, looked out, she saw neither the +ladies nor the balcony. All had disappeared--nothing but a cloud of +dust arose from the street, amidst a confusion of cries of distress, of +shouts for help, and groans of pain. + +The balcony, with the ladies, had been precipitated into the street, and +all those who were on it were more or less severely injured. Josephine +recognized it as a providential protection that she had not paid +with broken limbs, like her friends, for the curiosity of seeing the +beautiful little greyhound, but had only received violent contusions and +sprained joints. For weeks she had to suffer from the consequences of +this fall, and was confined to her bed, not being able to lift herself +up, nor with her bruised, swollen hands to bring the food to her mouth +during this time. Hortense had to wait upon her mother as she had waited +upon her when she was only a small, helpless child. + +While Josephine was thus for these weeks suffering, the Pomona, +fully equipped, was sent to sea, for she was intrusted with important +instructions for the commanding general Bonaparte, and could not +possibly be detained for Josephine's recovery. She received this news +with bitter tears, and resolutely declared that no sooner should she be +recovered than she would sail for Egypt in any kind of vessel; that she +was firmly decided to follow her husband and share his dangers. + +She had, however, twice received letters from Bonaparte. In the first of +these he had, full of tender solicitude, entreated her not to undertake +the fatiguing and dangerous voyage; in the second he had commanded +her with all the earnestness of love to give up the enterprise, and +requested as a proof of her affection and faithfulness, that she would +listen to reason, remain in Paris, and watch over his interests, and be +his guardian angel. + +Josephine read this last letter with a sorrowful smile, and, as she +handed it to her friend Madame de Chateau-Renaud, she said, sighing: + +"The days of happiness are over. While in Italy, Bonaparte required that +I should bid defiance to all dangers, so as to be at his side, for his +letters then demanded my presence. Now he orders me to avoid dangers, +and to remain quietly at home." + +"But it is out of pure love he does this!" exclaimed her friend. "See +how affectionate and how tender his letter is! Certainly no man can love +his wife more warmly than Bonaparte loves you." + +"Oh, yes," sighed Josephine, "he loves me yet, but I am no longer +absolutely necessary--he can live without me; once love ruled over his +reason, now his reason rules over his love. It will be as I fear: I +shall day by day love him more fondly and more passionately, for he is +my last love, but he will every day love me less, for perhaps I am his +first love, and his heart will be young long after he reads upon my face +that I am six years older than he." + +However, she conformed to the wishes of her husband; she was resigned, +and gave up the thought of going to Egypt. At first she did it only +with tears, but soon after there came news which made her accept her +husband's wishes as the commands of Fate. + +The Pomona, the vessel which had once brought her from Martinique to +France, and on board of which she was to go to Egypt, had been captured +by an English man-of-war, and all her passengers sent as prisoners to +England. + +The fall from the balcony had therefore saved Josephine from being +carried into captivity to England. To this fall she owed her liberty! +With all the levity and superstition of a creole, Josephine looked upon +this fortunate mishap as a warning from Fate, and it seemed to her as if +this had taken place to hinder her journey to Egypt. She therefore dried +her tears and submitted to the orders alike of Fate and of her husband. + +She remained in France, and accepted her mission to watch, as a true +friend and beloved one, over the interests of her husband, to observe +his friends and foes, and to send him news of every thing which it was +important for him to know. + +Once her fate decided, and she resolved to remain in France, she +determined to make her life comfortable and pleasant; she wished to +prepare for herself and her children a joyous existence, and procure +also for her returning husband a gift which she knew would meet a +long-cherished wish of his. + +She bought a residence, situated not far from Paris, the Castle +Malmaison, if the name of castle can be properly given to a pretty, +tastefully-built country residence, tolerably large and plain, but +surrounded by a beautiful park. + +Their wishes and wants were yet simple, and the country residence, +Malmaison, was amply sufficient to receive the family and the friends of +General Bonaparte and his wife; it became too small and too narrow only +when it had to accommodate the Emperor Napoleon, the empress, and their +court-attendants and suite. + +But if the Castle Malmaison was not large, the park which surrounded +it was all the larger and handsomer, and, with its shady walks, its +wondrous beds of flowers, its majestic avenues, its splendid groves and +lawns, it had for Josephine pleasures and joys ever new and fresh; and +it furnished her, moreover, with the welcome opportunity of following +the inclinations of her youth amidst the flowers, birds, trees, and +plants. + +Josephine loved botany; it was natural that she should endeavor to +collect together in Malmaison the most beautiful plants and flowers, and +to arrange them in this her little earthly paradise. She enlisted the +most able architects and the most skilful gardeners, and, under their +direction, with the hands of hundreds of workmen, there soon arose one +of the most beautiful hot-houses, wherein all these glories of earth, +splendid flowers, and fruits of distant climes, would find a home! + +Josephine herself, with her fine taste and her deep knowledge of botany, +directed all these arrangements and improvements; the builders as well +as the gardeners had to submit their plans for her approbation, and it +was not seldom that her keen, practised eye discovered in them defects +which her ingenuity at once found means to correct. + +In Malmaison, Josephine created around her a new world, a quiet paradise +of happiness, where she could dream, with blissful cheerfulness and +with all the youthful energy of her heart, of a peaceful future, of +delightful contentment, in the quiet enjoyment of Nature and of home. + +But the old world outside did not cease its own march; it fought its +battles, spun its intrigues, and continued its hostilities. Josephine +could not withdraw herself from this old world; she dared not place the +paradise of Malmaison as a wall of partition between her and the +wild stir and tumult of Paris; she had to rush away from the world of +innocence, from this country-life, into the whirlpool of the agitated, +restless life of Paris. + +Bonaparte had made it a duty for her to watch his friends as well as his +foes, and there were then happening in Paris events which appeared to +the wife of General Bonaparte worthy of close observation. His long +absence had diminished the number of his friends, and at the same time +gave strength to and increased his enemies, who were ever busy to +defame and vilify his heroic deeds, and to turn them into a crime; they +represented that the expedition to Egypt, notwithstanding the glorious +exploits of the French army, should have had more striking results, and +the louder they cried out, the more feeble and timid were the voices +of his friends. The latter daily found their position becoming more +precarious, for they were the moderate republicans, the supporters of +the actual order of things, and of the constitution which France had +adopted. Against this constitution arose, with loud cries, two hostile +parties, which increased every day, and assumed toward it a more and +more threatening attitude. + +These parties were, on the one hand, the royalists, who saw their hopes +increase every day, because the armies of the European powers, allied +against France, were approaching nearer and nearer the French +frontiers; and, on the other, the republicans of the past, who hoped to +re-establish the old days of the Convention and of the red republic. + +Both parties tried to undermine society and the existing authorities; +they organized conspiracies, seditions, and tumults, and were constantly +inventing new intrigues, so as to destroy the government, and set +themselves up in its place. + +The royalists trusted to the combined powers of the princes of Europe, +with whom the exiled Bourbons were approaching; and in La Vendee the +guerilla warfare had already begun against the republic. + +The red republicans dreamed of re-establishing the guillotine, which was +to restore France to health by delivering her from all the adversaries +of the republic and bring back the glorious days of 1793; they left +nothing untried to excite the people into dissatisfaction and open +rebellion. + +Against both parties stood the Directory, who in these days of tumult +and sedition, were themselves feeble and without energy, seeking only to +prolong their existence. They were satisfied to live on day by day, and +shrank from every decided action which might increase the wrath of the +parties or destroy the brilliant present of the mighty directors, in +whose ears the title of "the five monarchs" sounded so sweetly. + +In the interior of France, anarchy, with all its horrors and confusion, +prevailed, and, on the frontier, its enemies were taking advantage of +this anarchy to give to the republic its mortal stroke. + +Turkey, Russia, the Kings of Sardinia, Naples, and Sweden, were allied +with Austria, England, and Prussia, and they had begun to make immense +preparations. A Russian army, led by Suwarrow, was marching toward +Italy, to the help of Austria--to reconquer Lombardy. The Rastadt +congress, from which a universal peace had been expected, had dissolved, +and the only result was an increased enmity between Germany and +France, the deputies of the latter, as they were returning home, being +shamefully murdered in the open street, immediately before the gates of +Rastadt, at the instigation of the Austrian Count Lehrbach. + +The murder of these ambassadors became the signal for the renewal of +war, which was now to be prosecuted with increased bitterness. + +At this important, critical moment, when all Europe was buckling on +its armor against France, which so much needed the guidance of her +victorious general--at this moment, Bonaparte was not only away from +Paris, but no news had been received from him for some months. Only +a vague rumor was spread through Paris: "Bonaparte had fallen at the +desperate attack on Acre," and this sufficed to discourage entirely his +friends, and to make his enemies still more audacious and overbearing. + +At first Josephine was entirely cast down by the terrible news; but +afterward came the reflection, the doubt, the hope, that all this +might be a rumor spread by his enemies. She hastened to Paris to obtain +information from the Directory, so as to find out if there were any +foundation for the report of Bonaparte's death. But the Directory had +as uncertain news as Josephine herself, and the absence of information +seemed to confirm its truth. + +As she came one day to Barras to ask him if there were any news from +the army, she heard him say to Rewbell, one of the five directors: "Here +comes the wife of that hypocrite Bonaparte! If he is not dead to Europe, +he is at least dead to France." + +This expression proved to her that Barras himself did not believe in his +death, and gave to Josephine all her energy and presence of mind. She +busied herself in endeavoring to find a clew to this horrible rumor; and +she found that Bonaparte's enemies had spread it, and that only those +to whom his death would be welcome, and his return be objectionable, had +circulated this report. + +Her heart again beat with hope; she now felt, in the blissful joy which +penetrated her whole being, that Bonaparte was not dead; that he lived +still; that he would return home, to her great delight and to the terror +of his foes. A cheerful assurance sustained her whole nature. While +all those, who in the days of her happiness had rivalled each other in +assuring her of their friendship and devotedness, the Directory, the +ministers, the majority of the generals, turned away from her, cold and +indifferent; and her few true friends, low-spirited and depressed, bowed +their heads, while her foes and those of Bonaparte scornfully said in +their joy, "Now the new King of Jerusalem and Cyprus has fallen under +the blows of a new savage Omar." While every thing was against her, +Josephine alone was cheerful, and confidingly looked into the future, +for she felt and knew that the future would soon bring back her husband, +her beloved. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. THE FIRST FAITHLESSNESS. + + +Josephines prophetic heart had not deceived her. Bonaparte lived! But +his was a life of danger, of constantly renewed battles and hardships--a +life in which he had constantly to guard against not only enemies, but +also against sickness. + +Bonaparte had traversed the deserts with his army, visited the pyramids, +conquered Cairo, and, in warmly-contested and fearful combats, had +defeated and subdued the Mussulman. But these numerous victories had +been followed by some defeats, and all his successes were more than +counterbalanced by the fruitless storming of the impregnable Acre, and +the failure to conquer Syria. The English admiral, Sidney Smith, with +his vessels, anchored in the harbor of Acre, protected the besieged, +and constantly provided them with provisions and ammunition, and so +efficiently supported the pacha and his mercenary European soldiers, +that Bonaparte, after two months of fruitless efforts, abandoned the +siege on the 10th of May, 1799, and retreated into Egypt. + +This is not, however, the place to recall the stupendous enterprises of +Bonaparte, which remind one of the deeds of the heroes and demi-gods of +ancient Greece, or the nursery tales of extraordinary beings. + +His heroic deeds are engraven on history's page: there can be read +the wondrous events of his Egyptian campaign, of his march through +the wilderness, of the capture of Cairo, of his successful battles of +Aboukir and Tabor, which led the heroic General Kleber, forgetting all +rivalry, to embrace Bonaparte, exclaiming: "General Bonaparte, you are +as great as the world, but the world is too small for you!" + +There, also, one can read of the cruel massacre of three thousand +captive Mussulmen, of the revolt of Cairo; there are depicted the +blood-stained laurels which Bonaparte won in this expedition, the +original plan of which seems to have been conceived in the brain of one +who was at once a demi-god and an adventurer. + +We leave, therefore, to history the exclusive privilege of narrating +Bonaparte's career as a warrior; our task is with something +superior--with his thoughts, feelings, and sufferings, in the days of +his Egyptian campaign. It is not with the soldier, the captain, or his +plans of battle, that we have to do, but with the man, and especially +with the husband of Josephine--the woman who for his sake suffered, +was full of solicitude, contended for him, and struggled with love and +loyalty, while he fought only with sword and cannon. + +It is true, Bonaparte also had to suffer, and his anxieties for the +success of his plans did not alone hang heavily on his heart, while with +his army he besieged the impregnable Acre. At this very time his heart +received a deep wound from his friend and confidant Junot, who drove +the sting of jealousy into his sensitive heart. It is the privilege of +friendship to pass by in silence nothing which calumny or ill-will may +imagine or circulate, but truly to make known to our friend every thing +which the public says of him, without regard to the sufferings which +such communications may entail upon his heart. Junot made full use of +this privilege. Bourrienne in his memoirs relates as follows: + +"While we were in the vicinity of the springs of Messoudiah, I saw one +day Bonaparte, with his friend Junot, pacing to and fro, as he often +did. I was not very far from them, and I know not why during this +conversation my eyes were fixed on him. The face of the general was +paler than usual, though I knew not the cause. There was a strange +nervousness; his eyes seemed bewildered, and he often struck his head +with his hand. + +"After a quarter of an hour, he left Junot and came toward me. I had +noticed his angry, thoughtful expression. I went to meet him, and as I +stood before him, Bonaparte, with a harsh and severe tone, exclaimed: +'You have no affection for me. The women! ... Josephine! ... Had you any +affection for me, you would long ago have given me the information which +Junot has now told me: he is a true friend! Josephine! ... and I am six +hundred miles away! ... You ought to have told me! ... Josephine! ... +so to deceive me! ... You! ... "Woe to you all! I will uproot +that detestable race of seducers and blondins! As regards +her--separation!--yes: divorce, public separation before the eyes +of all! ... I must write! I know every thing! ... It is her fault, +Bourrienne! You ought to have told me.' + +"These vehement, broken utterances, the strange expression on his face, +and his excited tone of voice, revealed only too clearly what had been +the subject of the conversation he had had with Junot. I saw that Junot +had been drawn into a fatal indiscretion, and that if he had really +believed that charges could be made against Madame Bonaparte, he had +exaggerated them in an unpardonable manner. My situation was one of +extreme delicacy: I had, however, the good fortune to remain cool, and +as soon as his first excitement had subsided, I began to tell him that +I knew nothing about what Junot had told him; that if even such rumors, +which often were circulated only by slander, had reached me, and if I +had thought it my duty to communicate them to him, I should certainly +not have chosen the moment when he was six hundred miles away from +France to do so. I did not hesitate to tell him how blameworthy Junot's +conduct appeared to me, and how ungenerous it was to accuse a woman +thoughtlessly, when she was not present to justify or to defend herself; +I told him that it was no proof of affection for Junot to add domestic +troubles to the grave anxieties which already overburdened him. +Notwithstanding my observations, to which, however, he listened with +composure, the word 'separation' fell often from his lips, and one must +understand to what a pitch the excitement of his feelings could carry +him, to be able to imagine how Bonaparte appeared during this painful +scene. I did not, however, give up the point; I came back to what I had +said. I reminded him with what carelessness men received and circulated +such reckless stories, suited only to the idle curiosity of gossips, and +unworthy the attention of strong minds. I spoke to him of his fame: 'My +fame?' cried he, 'ah, I know not what I would give if what Junot has +told me is not true--so much do I love this woman ... if Josephine +is guilty, I must be divorced from her forever. ... I will not be +the ridicule of the idle babblers of Paris! I must write to Joseph to +procure this separation.' + +"Though he was still much excited, yet he was somewhat more quiet. I +took advantage of a moment's pause to combat this idea of separation +which seemed to overrule him. I called his attention to the +unreasonableness it would be, on such vague and probably false rumors, +to write to his brother. 'If you send a letter,' said I, 'it will +bear the impress of the excitement which has dictated it; as regards +a separation, it will be time, after mature consideration, to speak of +it.' + +"These last words made an impression on him which I had not expected so +soon to see; he became perfectly calm, and listened to me as if he +felt the need of receiving words of encouragement, and after this +conversation he never again alluded to the subject. Fourteen days after, +before Acre, he manifested to me the most violent displeasure against +Junot, complained of the sufferings which such indiscreet revelations +had caused him, and which he now considered as purely an invention +of malice. I afterward noticed that he did not forgive Junot this +stupidity. It is easy to understand why Josephine, when she learned from +Napoleon this conduct of Junot, never could feel for him a very warm +interest, or intercede in his favor." [Footnote: Bourrienne, "Memoires," +vol. ii., p. 212.] + +It will be seen that the very sensitive heart of Bonaparte had again +been kindled into jealousy, as it so often had happened before in Italy. +Absence--a momentary separation--was enough to enkindle these flames. We +have seen in the letters which Bonaparte wrote to Josephine during the +Italian campaign, how her silence--the least delay in her answering +his letters--was enough for him to incriminate her, on account of his +jealous affections; how, because she does not constantly write, he +threatens to rush in some night unexpectedly, and with the rage of +jealousy force the doors open, and murder "the young lover of eighteen, +and curse Josephine because he must love her without bounds." + +Now he swears to root out this detestable race of seducers and blondins +who have beguiled from him the heart of his Josephine. Full of passion +and jealousy, he believes in the calumnies which Junot, with all the +cruel inconsiderateness of a trusty friend, has whispered to him, and at +once Josephine is guilty! She has had a love-correspondence with Charles +Botot, the blond private secretary of Barras, for Charles Botot comes +sometimes to Malmaison, and has often been seen near Josephine and her +daughter Hortense in her loge! But by degrees comes reflection, and a +fortnight after he believes that malice alone can have invented these +calumnies. This noble conviction, however, was soon to be shaken by the +enemy, for Josephine had enemies quite near Bonaparte, who longed to +draw away from her a husband's heart and to drive him into a divorce. + +First of all there were the whole family of Bonaparte, who had seen with +unwillingness Napoleon's marriage, for he was thereby much less under +their influence, and they had wished that he would at all events have +married Desiree Clary, the sister of Joseph's wife, and thus have been +more closely united to the family. + +But, while he was in Egypt, another powerful enemy had been added to +these. This was a young and beautiful woman, Madame Foures, the beloved +of the ardent general. + +While Bonaparte, with all the madness of jealousy at a mere groundless +calumny, which had come across the sea distorted and magnified, +wished to be divorced from Josephine; while he complained of woman's +faithlessness, frivolity, and inconstancy; while he cursed all women as +coquettes, he himself was guilty of faithlessness. Forgetting his vows +and his protestations of love for his wife, he had abandoned himself to +a new affection without any regard to public opinion, and even made no +secret of his intrigues. + +Unfortunate Josephine! The fears she had anticipated and dreaded before +accepting Bonaparte's proffered hand were too soon to be realized. His +heart began to grow cold while her love increased every day with deeper +intensity; he had perchance already read in her amiable countenance the +first signs of age, and he thought it might well be allowed to the young +general not to maintain so strict a fealty to that faithfulness which he +claimed from her. + +But Bonaparte still loved Josephine, although he was unfaithful to her. +Surely this new love might well bear the guilt of the credulousness with +which he judged Josephine, and the word of separation might thus easily +come upon his lips, because the newly-loved one, amid the vows of her +affection, might have whispered it in his ear. + +Madame Foures had an immense advantage over Josephine; she was barely +twenty years old, was bewitchingly beautiful, was a coquette, and--she +was there in Bonaparte's immediate presence, while the Mediterranean +separated him from Josephine. + +Bonaparte abandoned himself to this new love with all his passionate +nature. Not only did the whole army in Egypt know this, but his foes +also became acquainted with it; and Sir Sidney Smith made use of this +fact to attack his enemy in a way little known to the annals of warfare. +Bonaparte had removed from the Egyptian army Madame Foures' injured +husband, who held there the rank of a cavalry officer, by sending him +with a message to the Directory. But the vessel in which he had sailed +for France was captured by the English, and Admiral Sidney Smith +undertook, with all the careless, open manner of an Englishman, to make +him fully acquainted with the relations existing between his wife and +General Bonaparte. + +He then gave to M. Foures, who was beside himself with anger and wrath, +and who threatened bloody vengeance, his freedom, and exhibited his +good-will toward him so far as to have him landed near Cairo, where +Bonaparte then was with his beautiful mistress. + +Enraged with jealousy, M. Foures rushed to his wife, to make to her the +most violent demonstrations. Perhaps too weak to part with an adored, +beautiful wife, he simply ordered her to return with him to France. + +But Madame Foures made resistance. She called her mighty lover to her +help; she claimed a separation; and the war-commissioner Duprat, who +in the army was invested with the functions of a civil magistrate, +pronounced, at the request of Madame Foures and at the order of +Bonaparte, the decree of separation. + +Madame Foures was free, but this did not satisfy the secret wishes of +her heart. The most important point was, that Bonaparte should be free +also, that he also should desire to be divorced. Josephine must be +removed from him and thrust aside, so that the beautiful Pauline Foures +might take her place. + +No means, either of coquetry, tears, flatteries, or promises of enduring +love, remained untried to induce Bonaparte to take the decisive step. +Sometimes Pauline would pout; sometimes her eyes shed the tears of +repentance over her own faithlessness, and she vowed she would take +refuge in a cloister if Bonaparte would not restore her to honor by +exalting her to the position of being his wife; sometimes she sought by +her cheerful humor, her genial abandonment, to bind him to her, to amuse +him; and sometimes, when dressed as a general, on a fiery horse, and +surrounded by a vast number of adjutants, she would ride up to him and +win by her smiles and flatteries friends, who calumniated Josephine, +and represented to him the necessity of a separation from his inconstant +wife. + +But, notwithstanding all the calumnies, and all the deceiving arts of +his beloved, there existed in Bonaparte's heart something which spoke +in favor of the poor, slandered, and forgotten Josephine; and, amid +the exciting pleasures of his new passion, he remembered with longing, +sorrowful heart the charming, gracious woman whom he once had tenderly +loved, and whom he still so loved that he could not sacrifice her to +his beautiful mistress. Still he persevered in showing to the latter the +deepest, most tender, and undivided attention; and when the chances of +war kept him away from her for a long time, when he went to Syria and +left her in Cairo, Bonaparte wrote to her every day the most touching +letters, which were forwarded by a special courier. + +This was occurring at the same time that Josephine in Paris was hoping +in vain with painful longing for letters from her husband, and was +watching over his interests with the kindest attention, while his +enemies were spreading news of his death. + +Bonaparte had now no time to write to his wife, for the beautiful +Pauline Foures laid claim to the little leisure which remained to the +commanding general, and to her he addressed warm and glowing words of +love, such as while in Italy he had addressed to Josephine when he swore +to her never to love another woman. + +Meanwhile Fate rendered fruitless all the efforts of the beautiful +Madame Foures to draw Bonaparte into a separation; Fate came to +Josephine's rescue, and, strange to say, it came in the shape of the +Frankfort Journal. + +The victorious battle of Aboukir, which Bonaparte, on the 25th of July, +1799, had with his army won over the enemy, gave occasion to parleying +negotiations between the French commander-in-chief and the English +admiral, Sidney Smith. Bonaparte sent a commissioner on board the +English flag-ship, and Sir Sidney Smith was cunning enough to send +through this commissioner to the French general a few newspapers +recently received from Europe. For ten months the French army and +Bonaparte were without news from France, and this present of the English +admiral was received by Bonaparte and his generals with the deepest joy +and curiosity. + +Among these papers was a copy of the Journal de Frankfort of the 10th of +June, 1799. This was the first newspaper which furnished Bonaparte with +news from France for ten long months, and the natural consequence was +that he glanced over it with the most inquisitive impatience. Suddenly +he uttered a cry; the pallor of death overspread his face, and, fixing +his flaming eyes on Bourrienne, who at this moment was alone with +him--"My presentiments have not deceived me," exclaimed Bonaparte. +"Italy is lost! The wretched creatures! All the results of our +victories have vanished! I must go to France at once--this very moment!" +[Footnote: Bourrienne, "Memoires," vol. ii., p. 305.] + +This newspaper informed Bonaparte of the late events in France. It told +him that the French Directory had experienced a change, that only one of +them, Barras, had remained in it, and that four new directors--Sieyes, +Grohier, Moulins, and Ducos--were now its members. It told him much +more--that the French army in Italy had suffered the most disastrous +reverses; that all Italy had been reconquered by the combined armies of +Russia and Austria under Suwarrow and the Archduke Charles, who were +now advancing upon France, which was on every side surrounded by the +revengeful enemies of the republic. + +No sooner had Bonaparte read this news than his decision was taken. +Berthier was called into his tent, and under the seal of silence +Bonaparte communicated to him his unwavering resolution of going +immediately to France, but that this was to remain a secret to his +whole army as well as all the generals. Berthier, Gautheaume, Eugene +Beauharnais, Monge, and Bourrienne, were alone to accompany him, but the +last two were not to be made acquainted with their departure for Europe +before they had left Cairo with Bonaparte. As he noticed gleams of joy +in Berthier's face at the news of returning to France, Bonaparte once +more impressed upon him the duty of preserving silence and not to betray +the secret by word or deed, and to do nothing which might induce friends +or acquaintances to believe that a voyage was contemplated. The secret +was indeed faithfully kept, and the few confidants intrusted with it +took great care to divulge nothing, for fear he might punish them by +leaving them in Egypt. + +Bonaparte himself maintained the most absolute secrecy; neither his +beloved, the beautiful Pauline Foures, nor General Kleber, whom he had +chosen to be his successor in the chief command of the army of Egypt, +suspected any thing. + +To his beloved, Bonaparte said he was leaving Cairo for the sake of +making a tour through the Delta, and that in a few weeks he would be +with her again. The news he had received from Europe had suddenly cooled +the glow of his passion, and, at the thought of returning to France, +rose up again before his mind the image of Josephine in all her grace +and loveliness. For a long time, while she was not at his side, he had +been unfaithful to her, but he did not wish, for his own sake, to add +scandal to faithlessness. He did not wish to bring to France with him, +as sole booty from Egypt, a mistress. + +Pauline Foures, therefore, suspected as little of his plans as General +Kleber. It was only after Bonaparte, with his small suite of five +confidants and the Mameluke Roustan, had embarked at Alexandria, that +Pauline learned that he had deserted--that he had abandoned her. In +a short note which his master of the stall, Vigogne, handed to her, +Bonaparte took leave of her, and made her a present of every thing he +left behind in Cairo, including the house he occupied, with all its +costly and luxurious furniture. [Footnote: The departure of Bonaparte +made Madame Foures comfortless, and she now watched for an opportunity +to hasten back to him in France. Touched by her tears and prayers, +Junot furnished her with an opportunity, and Pauline reached Paris in +November, 1799. But Bonaparte would no longer see her; he now sacrificed +the mistress to the wife, as he had nearly sacrificed the wife to the +mistress. Pauline received orders to leave Paris immediately; at the +same time Bonaparte sent her a large sum of money, which he afterward +repeated.--See Saint Elsne, "Les Amours et Galanteries des Rois de +France," vol. ii., p. 320.] + +General Kleber learned Bonaparte's departure, only through the orders +sent to him by the latter to assume the chief command of the army; his +troops learned his absence by the order of the day, in which Bonaparte +bade them farewell. + +After four weeks of a long voyage against tempestuous and contrary +winds, the two frigates, upon one of which Bonaparte and Eugene and his +other followers had embarked, touched at Ajaccio. The whole population +had no sooner learned that Bonaparte was in the harbor, than they rushed +out to see him, and to salute him with enthusiastic demonstrations; +and it was in vain that their attention was drawn to the fact that both +frigates had come directly from Egypt, and had to observe quarantine +before any communication with the population could be allowed. + +"Pestilence sooner than the Austrians!" shouted the people, and hundreds +and hundreds of boats surrounded the French vessels. Every one wanted +to see the general, their famous countryman, Bonaparte. But Bonaparte's +heart was sorrowful amid the general rejoicing, for in Ajaccio he had +learned of the great battle of Novi, where the Austrians had gained the +victory, and which had cost General Joubert's life. + +"It is too great an evil," said he, with a sigh; "there is no help for +it." But as he gave up Italy, all his thoughts were more strongly bent +upon Paris, and his desire to be there as soon as possible increased +more and more. + +After a short stay in Ajaccio, the voyage to France, despite all +quarantine regulations, was continued, and the star of fortune, which +had hitherto protected him, still guided Bonaparte safely into the +harbor of Frejus, though the English fleet had watched and pursued the +French vessels. A courier was at once dispatched to the Directory in +Paris to announce the arrival of Bonaparte, and that he would, without +any delay, come to Paris. + +Josephine was at a dinner at Gohier's, one of the five directors, when +this courier arrived, and with a shout of joy she received the news of +her husband's coming. Her longing was such that she could not wait for +him in Paris, in her house of the Rue de la Victoire. She resolved to +meet him, and to be the first to bid him welcome, and to show him her +unutterable love. + +No sooner was this resolution taken than it was carried out. She began +her journey with the expectation of meeting her husband at Lyons, for +in his letter to the Directory he stated that he would come by way of +Lyons. In great haste, without rest or delay, Josephine travelled the +road to that city, her heart beating, her luminous eyes gazing onward, +looking with inexpressible expectancy at every approaching carriage, for +it might bring her the husband so long absent from her! + +She little suspected that while she was hastening toward Lyons, +Bonaparte had already arrived in Paris. He had changed the plan of +his journey, and, entirely controlled by his impatient desires, he +had driven to Paris by the shortest route. Josephine was not there to +receive him in her house; she was not there to welcome the returning +one--and the old serpent of jealousy and mistrust awoke again within +him. To add to this, his brothers and sisters had seized the occasion to +give vent to their ill-will by suspicions and accusations against their +unwelcome sister-in-law. Bonaparte, full of sad apprehension at her +absence, perhaps secretly wishing to find her guilty, listened to the +whisperings of her enemies. + +He therefore did not go to meet Josephine the next day on her return +from her unsuccessful journey. A few hours after, he opened his closed +doors and went to see her. She advanced toward him with looks full of +love and tenderness, and opened her arms to him, and wanted to press him +closely to her heart. + +But he coldly held her back, and with deliberate severity and an +expression of the highest indifference, he saluted her, and asked if she +had returned happy and satisfied from her pleasure excursion with her +light-haired friend. + +Josephine's tears gushed forth, and, as if annihilated, she sank down, +but she had not a word of defence or of justification against the cruel +accusation. Her heart had been too deeply wounded, her love too +much insulted, to allow her to defend herself. Her tearful eyes only +responded to Bonaparte's cruel question, and then in silence she retired +to her apartments. + +For three days they did not see each other. Josephine remained in her +rooms and wept. Bonaparte remained in his rooms and complained. To +Bourrienne, who then was not only his private secretary but also his +confidant, he complained bitterly of the faithlessness and inconstancy +of Josephine, of the unheard-of indifference that she should undertake +a pleasure-journey when she knew that he was soon to be in Paris. It +was in vain that Bourrienne assured him that Josephine had undertaken no +pleasure-excursion, that she had left Paris only to meet him, and to +be the first to bid him welcome. He would not believe him, for in the +melancholy gloominess of his jealousy he believed in the slanders which +Josephine's enemies, and his brothers and sisters, had whispered in his +ear, that Josephine had left Paris for a parti de plaisir with Charles +Botot, the beautiful blondin whom Bonaparte so deeply hated. How +profound his sadness was, may be seen by a letter which at this time he +wrote to his brother Joseph, and in which he says: + +"I have a great deal of domestic sorrow ... your friendship to me is +very dear; to become a misanthrope, there was nothing further needed +than to lose her and to be betrayed by you. It is a sad situation indeed +to have in one single heart all these emotions for the same person. + +"I will purchase a country residence either near Paris or in Burgundy; +I am thinking of passing the winter there and of shutting myself up; +I feel weary with human nature; I need solitude; I want to be alone; +grandeur oppresses me, my feelings are distorted. Fame appears insipid +at my twenty-nine years; I have tried every thing; nothing remains but +to become an egotist." [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph." vol. i., p. +189.] + +But, according to himself, "he cherished in his heart, at the same +time; all manner of emotions for the same person;" that is, he hated and +detested Josephine, but he also loved and admired her; was angry with +her, and yet longed for her; he found her frivolous and faithless, and +yet something in his heart ever spoke in her favor, and assured him that +she was a noble and faithful being. + +Fortunately, there was one who confirmed into full conviction these low +whisperings of his heart; fortunately, Bourrienne ceased not to argue +against this jealousy of Bonaparte, and to assure him again and again +that Josephine was innocent, that she had committed nothing to excite +his anger. + +Finally, after three days of complaints and dreary accusations, love +conquered in the heart of Bonaparte. He went to Josephine. She advanced +to meet him with tears in her eyes, but with a soft, tender smile. The +sight of her gracious appearance, her blanched cheeks, moved him, and, +instead of explanations and mutual recriminations, he opened his arms to +her, and she threw herself on his breast with a loud cry of exultation. + +Then came the explanations. He now believed that she had left Paris +hurriedly for the sake of meeting him; and, as regarded the dangerous +"blond," the private secretary of Barras, M. Charles Botot, Josephine +smilingly handed to her husband a letter she had received from him a +few days before. In this letter Charles Botot acknowledged his +long-cherished affection for her daughter Hortense, and he claimed her +hand in due form. + +"And you have doubtless accepted his offer?" asked Bonaparte, his face +overcast again. "Since, unfortunately, you are married yourself, and he +cannot be your husband, then of course he must marry the daughter, so +as to be always near the mother. M. Charles Botot is no doubt to be your +son-in-law? You have accepted his hand?" + +"No," said she, softly, "we have refused it, for Hortense does not love +him, and she will follow her mother's example, and marry only through +love. Besides," continued Josephine, with a sweet smile, "I wanted him +no longer." + +"You wanted him no longer! How is this?" asked General Bonaparte, +eagerly. + +"Barras has sent him his dismissal," said she, looking at her husband +with an expression of cunning roguery. "M. Botot could no longer, as he +has hitherto been--without, however, being conscious of it--be my spy in +the Directory; I could no longer learn from him what the Directory were +undertaking against my Bonaparte, against the hero whom they envy and +caluminate so much, nor in what new snares they wished to entangle him! +What had I to do with Botot, since he could not furnish me news of the +intrigues of your enemies, nor afford me the chance of counteracting +them? Charles Botot was nothing more to me than a mere lemon, which I +squeezed for your sake; when there was nothing left in it I threw it +away." + +"And is such the truth?" asked Bonaparte, eagerly. "This is no invention +to raise my hopes, only to be cast down again?" + +Josephine smiled. "I have daily taken notes of what Charles Botot +brought me," said she, gently; "I always hoped to find a safe +opportunity to send this diary to you in Egypt, that you might be +informed of what the Directory thought, and what was the public opinion, +so that you might take your measures accordingly. But, for the last +eight months, I knew not where you were, and so I have kept my diary: +here it is." + +She gave the diary to Bonaparte, who, with impatient looks, ran over the +pages, and was fully convinced of her devotedness and care. Josephine +had well served his interests, and closely watched over his affairs. +Then, ashamed and repentant, he looked at her, who, in return, smiled at +him with gracious complacency. + +"Josephine," asked he, quietly, "can you forgive me? I have been +foolish, but I swear to you that never again will I mistrust you, I will +believe no one but you. Can you forgive me?" + +She embraced him in her arms, and tenderly said: "Love me, Bonaparte; I +well deserve it!" + +Peace, therefore, was re-established, and Josephine's enemies had the +bitter disappointment to see that their efforts had all been in vain; +that again the most perfect unanimity and affection existed between +them; that the cloud which their enmity had conjured up, had brought +forth but a few tear-drops, a few thunderings; and that the love which +Bonaparte carried in his heart for Josephine was not scattered into +atoms. + +The cloud had passed away; the sun of happiness had reappeared; but it +had yet some spots which were never to fade away. The word "separation" +which Bonaparte, so often in Egypt, and now in Paris, had launched +against Josephine, was to be henceforth the sword of Damocles, ever +suspended over her head: like a dark, shadowy spectre it was to follow +her everywhere; even amid scenes of happiness, joy, and glory, it was +to be there to terrify her by its sinister presence, and by its gloomy +warnings of the past! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE EIGHTEENTH BRUMAIRE. + + +Bonaparte's journey from Frejus to Paris, on his return from Egypt, had +been a continued triumph. All France had applauded him. Everywhere he +had been welcomed as a deliverer and savior; everywhere he had been +hailed as the hope of the future, as the man from whom was to be +expected assistance in distress, the restoration of peace, help, and +salvation. + +For France was alarmed; she stood on the edge of a precipice, from which +only the strong hand of a hero could save her. In the interior, anarchy +prevailed amongst the authorities as well as the people. In La Vendee +civil war raged, with all its sanguinary horrors, and the authorities +endeavored to protect themselves against it by tyrannical laws, by +despotic measures, which threatened both property and freedom. There +existed no security either for person or for property, and a horrible, +fanatical party-spirit penetrated all classes of society. The royalists +had been defeated on the 18th Fructidor, but that very fact had again +given the vantage-ground to the most decided opponents of the royalists, +the red republicans, the terrorists of the past, who now intrigued and +formed plots and counterplots, even as the royalists had done. They +sought to create enmity and bitterness amongst the people, and hoped +to re-establish on the ruins of the present administration the days of +terror and of the guillotine. + +These red republicans, ever ready for the struggle, organized themselves +into clubs and "constitutional circles," where the ruin of the actual +state of things, and the severe and bloody republic of Robespierre, +formed the substance of their harangues; and their numbers were +constantly increased by new members being sworn in. + +The ballot in May, 1799, had been in favor of the Directory, and +unfavorable to the moderate party, for only fanatical republicans had +been elected to the Council of Five Hundred. + +Against these factions and republican clubs the Directory had to make a +perpetual war: but their power and means failed to give them the victory +in the strife. It was a constant oscillation and vacillation, a +constant compromising and capitulating with all parties--and the natural +consequence was, that these parties, as soon as they had secured the +ear of the Directory, and gained an advantage, strove hard to obtain the +ruling authority. Corruption and mistrust universally prevailed. +Every thing had the appearance of dissolution and disorder. Highwaymen +rendered the roads unsafe; and the authorities, instead of carrying out +the severity of the law, were so corrupt and avaricious as to sell their +silence and indulgence. The upright citizen sighed under the weight +of tyrannical laws from which the thief and the seditious knew how to +escape. + +The nation, reduced to despair by this arbitrary rule and corruption, +longed for some one to deliver it from this dreadful state of +dissolution; and the enthusiasm which was manifested at the return of +General Bonaparte, was a confession that in him the people foresaw and +recognized a deliverer. Exhausted and wearied, France sought for a man +who would restore to her peace again--who would crush the foes within, +and drive away the enemy from without. + +Bonaparte appeared to the people with all the prestige of his former and +recent victories; he had planted the victorious French tricolor upon the +summit of the capitol, and of the pyramids; he had given to France the +most acceptable of presents, "glory;" he had adorned her brow with so +many laurels, that he himself seemed to the people as if radiant with +glory. All felt the need of a hero, of a dictator, to put an end to the +prevailing anarchy and disturbances, and they knew that Bonaparte was +the only one who could achieve this gigantic work. + +Bonaparte understood but too well these applauding and welcoming voices +of the people, and his own breast responded favorably to them. The +secret thoughts of his heart were now to be turned into deeds, and the +ambitious dreams of his earlier days were to become realities. All +that he had hitherto wanted was a bridge to throw over the abyss which +separated the republicans, the defenders of liberty, equality, and +fraternity, from rule, power, and dictatorship. Anarchy and exhaustion +laid down this bridge, and on the 18th Brumaire, General Bonaparte, the +hero of "liberal ideas," passed over it to exalt himself into dictator, +consul, emperor, and tyrant of France. + +But the Directory also understood the voices of the applauding people; +they also saw in him the man who had come to deprive them of power and +to assume their authority. This was secretly yet violently discussed by +the Directory, the Council of the Elders, and of the Five Hundred. + +One day, at a dinner given to a few friends by the Abbe Sieyes, one of +the members of the Directory, the abbe, Cabanis, and Joseph Bonaparte, +were conversing together, standing on the side of the drawing-room, near +the chimney. It was conceded that undoubtedly a crisis was near at hand, +that the republic had now reached its limit, and that, instead of five +directors, only three would be elected, and that, without any doubt, +Bonaparte would be one of the three. + +"Yes," cried Sieyes, with animation, "I am for General Bonaparte, for of +all military men he is the most civil; but then I know very well what +is in reserve for me: once elected, the general, casting aside his two +colleagues, will do as I do now." And Sieyes, standing between Canabis +and Joseph, placed his two arms on their shoulders, then, pushing them +with a powerful jerk, he leaped forward and bounded into the middle +of the room, to the great astonishment of his guests, who knew not the +cause of this gymnastic performance of the abbe. [Footnote: "Memoires du +Roi Joseph," vol. i., p. 77.] + +The other directors were also conscious of this movement of Bonaparte, +and they secretly resolved to save themselves by causing his ruin. +Either the Directory or Bonaparte had to fall! One had to perish, that +the other might have the power! In order that the Directory might exist, +Bonaparte must fall. + +The Directory had secretly come to this conclusion on Bonaparte's +return. They were fully aware that a daring act alone could save them, +and they were determined not to shrink from it. + +The deed was to take place on the 2d Brumaire. On that day he was to be +arrested, and accused of having premeditated a coup d'etat against the +Directory. Indeed, one M. de Mounier had come to Director Gohier and had +denounced Bonaparte, whom he positively knew was conspiring to destroy +the existing government. Gohier received these accusations with much +gravity, and sent at once for the other directors to hasten to him, +but only one, Moulins, was then in Paris to answer Gohier's summons. He +came, and after a long conference both directors agreed that the next +day they would have Bonaparte arrested on his return to Paris from +Malmaison, where they knew he was to give a large banquet that day. They +sent for the chief of police, and quietly gave him the order to station +himself the next day with twelve resolute men on the road to Malmaison, +and to arrest Bonaparte as he should drive that evening toward Paris. + +On this very day Josephine, who did not wish to be present at the +banquet of gentlemen in Malmaison, had come to Paris to attend a party +at the house of one of her friends. The conversation went on; they +talked and jested, when a gentleman near Josephine told a friend that +some striking event would probably take place that day in Paris, for he +had just now met a friend who held an important office in the police. He +had invited him to go to the theatre, but he declined, stating that he +was to be on duty this evening, as some important affair was about being +transacted--the arrest, as he thought, of some influential personage. + +Josephine's heart trembled with horrible misgivings at these words. +Love's instinct convinced her that her husband was the one to be +arrested, and she thought within herself that it was Destiny itself +which sent her this intelligence, that she might save her husband from +the fearful blow which awaited him. Thus persuaded, she gathered all her +strength and presence of mind, and determined to act with energy, +and battle against the enemies of her husband. Without betraying the +slightest emotion, or exciting any suspicion that she had heard or +noticed what was said, Josephine rose from her seat with a cheerful +and composed countenance, and pleasantly took leave of the lady of the +house. But once past the threshold of the house, once in her carriage, +her anxious nature woke up again, and she began to act with energy and +resolution. She pulled the string, to give her directions to the driver. +As fast as the horses could speed, he was to drive his mistress to +Colonel Perrin, the commanding officer of the guards of the Directory. +In ten minutes she was there, and knowing well how devoted a guard he +and all his soldiers would be to Bonaparte, she communicated to him her +fears, and requested from him immediate and speedy assistance to remove +the danger. + +Colonel Perrin was prepared to enter into her plans, and he promised to +send to Malmaison a company of grenadiers, provided she would, as +soon as possible, have General Murat send him an order to that effect. +Josephine at once went to one of her true, reliable friends, who +belonged to the Council of the Elders, and, making him acquainted with +the danger which threatened her husband, requested him to gather a few +devoted friends, and to attend to the orders which Murat would send +them. + +After having made all these preparations, Josephine drove in full gallop +toward Malmaison. + +The dinner, to which Bonaparte had invited gentlemen from all classes +of society, was just over, and the guests were scattered, some in the +drawing-rooms, and some in the garden, where Bonaparte was walking up +and down in animated conversation with the secretary, Roger Ducos. + +At this moment the carriage of Josephine drove into the yard; and Murat, +who, with a few gentlemen, stood under the porch, hastened to offer his +hand so as to help Josephine to alight. An eye-witness who was present +at this scene relates as follows: + +"'Where is the general?' asked Josephine, hastily, of General Murat. + +"'I do not know,' was the answer; 'he is gone with Roger, but Lucien is +here.' + +"'Look at once for the general!' exclaimed Josephine, breathless, 'I +must speak to him immediately.' + +"I approached her and said that he was in the garden. She ran--she +flew! I placed myself at a window in the first story, from which I could +easily see into the garden-walks. My expectations had not deceived me. + +"No sooner did Bonaparte see Josephine approach, than he left Roger +Ducos and hurried to meet her. Both then walked into a path near by. I +could see them well. Josephine spoke with animation; the general walked +on; now and then she held him back. At last they took the path leading +to the castle. I went down to meet them on the steps near the door. + +"Madame Bonaparte held her husband by the left hand. Her animated, +expressive features had a bewitching pride and softness; it was a most +delightful admixture of tenderness and heroism. Bonaparte looked around, +pale and grave, but his eyes ever rested with pleasure on his wife. She +refused to enter into the large hall, and retired to her room. Bonaparte +called for Roger, and entered the saloon with him. His guests were +awaiting his arrival, to take their leave. The carriages drove up, and +the gentlemen left Malmaison to return to Paris. Only Lucien and Murat +remained with Bonaparte; Madame Bonaparte joined them as they entered +the vestibule. When she saw Murat, she exclaimed: + +"'How, general, you still here!--Do you not consider,' continued she, +turning to Bonaparte, 'that Murat ought to be already in Paris with +Perrin?--Away! quick! to horse, to the Rue Varennes, or I drive thither +myself.' + +"Murat laughed; but four minutes after he was riding at a gallop on +the road to the city. The three others returned to their rooms. I was +curious to know what was the conversation; but as I had nothing more to +do in the castle, I was about leaping on my horse to ride to Paris, when +I saw a detachment of infantry marching toward the castle. + +"I thought it my duty to announce them to the general; he sat between +his wife and his brother. 'How!' cried he, as he rose up hastily. +'Troops?' + +"'What of them?' answered Madame Bonaparte, smiling. 'Your company has +left you, now comes mine. It is a rendezvous; but be comforted--they are +not too many.' + +"All three walked into the yard, where the troops were placing +themselves in line without the sound of a drum. + +"'You are an extraordinary man, sir,' said Madame Bonaparte to the +captain. 'Nearly as soon as I?' + +"'Madame,' replied the officer, 'we have been ready for the march these +four hours.' + +"The officers followed the general into the drawing-room, and +refreshments were distributed to the soldiers; it was a company of +grenadiers. + +"At nine o'clock in the evening, a courier arrived, bearing dispatches +to Bonaparte. At once he, his wife, and his brother, drove to Paris. +The grenadiers were ordered to follow immediately and in silence." +[Footnote: "Memoires secretes," vol. i., p. 26.] + +These dispatches, which Bonaparte had received from Paris, brought him +the news that this time the danger was over--that the directors had +abandoned their plan. Some fortunate accident may have warned them, even +as Josephine herself had been warned. The spies who everywhere tracked +Josephine, as well as Bonaparte, had carried to Gohier intelligence of +all the strange movements of the wife of Bonaparte, and the director at +once perceived that she was informed of the danger which threatened her +husband, and that she was bent upon preventing it. + +But now that the plan of the directors had been unveiled, danger +threatened them in their turn, and they immediately adopted measures to +face this new peril. In place of Bonaparte, they must find some one +whom they could arrest, without withdrawing their orders. They found a +substitute in a wealthy merchant from Hamburg, who now resided in Paris. +Gohier had him arrested, and accused him of having had relations with +the enemies of France. + +Bonaparte assumed the appearance of having no doubts as to the sincerity +of Gohier, of suspecting nothing as to his own arrest, which had been +prevented by the timely and energetic action of Josephine. He thanked +her with increased tenderness for her love and faithfulness, and as he +pressed her affectionately to his breast, he swore to her that he would +never again doubt her; that he would, by the most unreserved confidence, +share with her his schemes and designs, and that henceforth he would +look upon her as the good angel who watched over the pathway of his +life. + +And Bonaparte kept his word. From this day his Josephine was not only +his wife, but his confidante, his friend, who knew all his plans, and +who could assist him with her advice and her exquisite practical +tact. She it was who brought about a reconciliation with Moreau and +Bernadotte; and by her amiable nature, attractive and dignified +manner, and great social talents, she bound even his friends closer to +Bonaparte; or with a smile, a kind word, some flattering observation, or +some of those little attentions which often-times tell more effectually +with those who receive them than great services, she would often win +over to him his foes and opponents. + +"It is known but to few persons," says the author of the "Memoires +secretes," "that Bonaparte always consulted his wife in civil matters, +even when they were of the highest importance. This fact is entirely +true, but Bonaparte would have been extremely mortified had he known +that those around him suspected it. Had it been possible for me to +divide my being, with what delight I should have followed this noble +woman! I would relate a few traits of hers if I did not know that M. +D. B., who is much better acquainted with her than I, is to write a +biography. [Footnote: The "Memoires secretes" appeared in 1815. The +biography spoken of by the author is probably that of Madame Ducrest, +and which appeared in 1818.] I know not what were the events of the +first years of Madame de Beauharnais, but if they were like those of her +last fifteen years, we should have the history of a perfect woman. She +has known but little of me, and therefore no interested motive guides +my pen, no other sentiment than that of truth." [Footnote: "Memoires +secretes," vol. i., p. 36.] + +The 2d Brumaire afforded sufficient reasons for Bonaparte to put into +execution his resolutions. He now knew the enmity of the Directory; +he knew he must cause their downfall if he himself did not wish to +be destroyed by them. He knew that, during his last triumphal journey +through France, he had heard sufficient to convince him that the voice +of the people was for him, that every one longed for a change, that +France was heartily wearied of revolutionary commotions, and above +all things craved for rest and peace; that it wished to lay aside all +political strife, and, like him, preferred to have nothing more to do +with a republican majority. + +"Every one desires a more central government," said Napoleon to his +brother Joseph. "Our dreams of a republic are the illusions of youth. +Since the 9th Thermidor the republican party has dwindled away more and +more; the efforts of the Bourbons and the foreigners, coupled with the +memories of '93, have called forth against the republican system an +imposing majority. If it had not been for the 13th Vendemiaire and the +18th Fructidor, this majority would long ago have won the ascendency; +the weaknesses, the imperiousness of the Directory, have done the rest. +To-day the people are turning their hopes toward me, to-morrow it will +be toward some one else." + +Bonaparte did not wish to wait until to-morrow. He had made all his +preparations; he had made sure of his generals and officers; he knew +also that the soldiers were for him, and that it required but a signal +from him to bring about the catastrophe. + +He gave the signal by inviting on the 18th Brumaire, to a dejeuner in +his house, all his confidants and friends, all the generals and superior +officers, and also the commanding general of the National Guards. Nearly +all of them came at this invitation; only General Bernadotte kept aloof, +as he perceived that the breakfast had other objects than to converse +and to eat. Sieyes and Ducos were the only directors who made their +appearance; Gohier, that morning, had sent to Bonaparte an invitation +to dinner, so as to deceive the more securely him whom he knew was his +enemy; Barras and Moulins, suspecting Bonaparte's schemes, remained in +the background, silently awaiting the result. + +While the guests were assembling in Bonaparte's house, and filling all +the space in it, a friend and confidant of Bonaparte, in the Council of +the Elders, made the following motion: "In consideration of the intense +political excitement which prevails in Paris, it is necessary to remove +the sessions to St. Cloud, and to give to General Bonaparte the supreme +command of the troops." + +After a violent debate, the motion was suddenly adopted; and, when it +was brought to Bonaparte, he saw that the moment for action had come. + +He told all those about him that at last the time was at hand to restore +to France rest and peace, that he was decided to do this, and he called +upon them to follow him. Every one was ready, and, surrounded by a +brilliant suite, Bonaparte went first to the Council of the Elders, to +express his thanks for his nomination, and solemnly to swear that he +would adopt every measure necessary to save the country. + +Immediately after this he went to the Tuileries to hold a review of the +troops stationed there. The soldiers and the people, who had streamed +thither in masses to see him, received him with loud acclamations, +assuring him of their loyalty and devotedness. + +No one this day rose in favor of the deputies, no one seemed to desire +that their sittings should as heretofore take place in Paris, nor to +think that force would have to be used to remove them. + +The palace of Luxemburg, in which their sittings had hitherto taken +place, and St. Cloud, in which they were to meet in the future, were +both, by orders of Bonaparte, surrounded with troops, and the deputies +as well as the Council of the Elders adjourned that very day to St. +Cloud. + +Moulins and Gohier alone had the courage to offer opposition, and, in +a letter to the Council of the Elders, to describe Bonaparte as a +criminal, who threatened the republic, and to demand of them his arrest; +and also that they should immediately decree that the republic was in +danger, and that it must be defended with all energy. But this letter +fell into Bonaparte's hands; and the directors, when they saw that their +request was unheeded, resigned, as Barras had done. + +The republic now had but two legitimate rulers, Sieyes and Ducos; and at +their side stood Bonaparte, soon to exalt himself above them. + +The following day, the 19th Brumaire, was actually the decisive day. +The Five Hundred, who now, like the Council of the Elders, held their +deliberations in St. Cloud, were discussing under great excitement the +abdication of the Directory and the necessity of a new election. The +debates were so vehement and so full of passion that the president, +Lucien Bonaparte, could not command order. A wild uproar arose, and at +this moment Napoleon entered the hall. Every one rushed at him with wild +frenzy; and the most violent recriminations were launched at him. "He +is a traitor!" they cried out. "He is a Cromwell, who wants to seize +the sovereign power!" What Bonaparte had never experienced on the +battle-field, in the thickest of the fight, he now felt. He became +bewildered by this violent strife of words, by this hailstorm of +accusations which whizzed around his ears. He tried to speak; he +tried to address the audience, but he could not--he could merely +give utterance to a few broken sentences; he made charges against the +Directory, with assurances of his own loyalty and devotedness, which +the audience received with loud murmurs, and then with wild shouts. +Bonaparte became more embarrassed and bewildered. Suddenly turning +toward the door of the hall, he exclaimed, "Who loves me, let him follow +me!" and he walked out hastily. + +The soldiers outside received him with great cheers, and this brought +back Bonaparte's presence of mind. "General," whispered Augereau, as +they mounted their horses, "you are in a critical position." + +"Think of Arcola," replied Bonaparte, calmly. "There the position seemed +still more critical. Have patience for half an hour, and you will see +how things change." + +Bonaparte made good use of this half hour. At its expiration he +re-entered the hall of deliberation of the Five Hundred, surrounded by +his officers, at the very moment when, on a motion of a member, they +were renewing their oaths to the constitution. Again they received +him with shouts: "Down with the tyrant!--down with the dictator! The +sanctity of the law is violated! Death to the tyrant who brings soldiers +here to do us violence!" + +One of the deputies rushed upon Bonaparte and seized him, but at that +instant the grenadiers also entered the room, delivered their general, +and carried him in triumph out of the hall. + +After his departure, the waves of wrath and political frenzy rose higher +and higher. Shouts and imprecations filled the room with confusion; +reproaches fell on all sides upon the president, Lucien Bonaparte, for +not having immediately ordered the arrest of the traitor, who by his +appearance, as well as by his armed escort, had insulted the assembly. +When Lucien endeavored to defend Napoleon's conduct, he was interrupted +by the cries: "He is a stain on the republic! He has tarnished his +reputation!" Louder and wilder rose the cry to declare Napoleon an +outlaw. [Footnote: "Memoires du Roi Joseph."] + +Lucien refused, and, as they urged their demand with increasing +violence, he left the presidential chair, and with deep emotion put +off the insignia of his office--his mantle and his sash--and was at the +point of making for himself an outlet through the wild crowd pressing +in frenzy around him, when the doors opened, and a company of grenadiers +rushed in, who by main force carried him away out of the hall. + +Lucien, whom Napoleon awaited outside with his troops, immediately +mounted his horse, and in this moment of deepest danger kept his +presence of mind, being fully aware that he must now be decided to save +himself and his brother or perish with him. He turned to the troops, and +ordered them to protect the president of the Five Hundred, to defend the +constitution attacked by a few fanatics, and to obey General Bonaparte, +who was empowered by the Council of the Elders to arrest the seditious, +and to protect the republic and its laws. + +The soldiers answered him with the acclamation, "Long live Bonaparte!" +But a certain shudder was visible. A few warning voices were lifted +up; they thought it strange that weapons should be directed against the +representatives of the country. + +By a dramatic action Lucien brought the matter to a close, though it +was at the time meant by him in all sincerity. He drew his sword, and, +directing its point toward Napoleon's breast, he exclaimed: "I swear +to pierce even my brother's heart if he ever dares touch the liberty of +France!" + +These words had an electric effect; every one felt inspired, lifted up, +and swore to obey Bonaparte, and to remain loyal to him even unto death. +At a sign from Napoleon, Murat, with his grenadiers, dashed into the +hall and drove away the assembly of the Five Hundred. At ten o'clock +that evening St. Cloud was vacant; only a few deputies, like homeless +night-birds, wandered around the palace out of which they had been so +violently ejected. + +In the interior of St. Cloud, Bonaparte was busy preparing for the +people of Paris a proclamation, in which he justified his deed, and +repeated the sacred assurance "that he would protect liberty and the +republic against all her enemies at home as well as abroad." When this +was done, it was necessary to think of giving to the French people a new +government, instead of the one which had been broken up. Napoleon had +been in conference until the dawn of day with Talleyrand, Roderer, and +Sieyes. Meanwhile Lucien had gathered around him in a room the members +of the Five Hundred who were devoted to him, and had resumed the +presidential chair; Napoleon's friends among the members of the Council +of the Elders also gathered together, and both assemblies issued a +decree, in which they declared there was no longer a Directory, and in +which they excluded from the assembly as rebellious and factious a +vast number of deputies. And more, they decreed the nomination of a +provisional commission, and decided that it should consist of three +members, who should bear the title of Consuls of the Republic, and they +appointed as consuls Sieyes, Ducos, and Bonaparte. + +At three o'clock in the morning every thing was ready, and Napoleon, +accompanied by Bourrienne, went to Paris. He had reached his goal; he +was at the head of the administration, but his countenance betrayed no +joyous excitement; he was taciturn and pensive, and during the whole +journey to Paris he spoke not a word, but quietly leaned in a corner +of the carriage. Perhaps he dreamed of a great and brilliant future; +perhaps he was busy with the thought how he could ascend higher on this +ladder to a throne, whose first step he had now ascended, since he had +exalted himself into a consul of the republic. + +Not till he arrived at his residence in the Rue de la Victoire did +Bonaparte's cheerfulness return, when, with countenance beaming +with joy, and followed by Bourrienne, he hastened to Josephine, who, +exhausted by anxiety and care during this day full of danger, had +finally gone to rest. Near her bed Bonaparte sank into an arm-chair, +and, gazing at her and seizing her hand, he turned smilingly to +Bourrienne: + +"Is it not true," said he--"I said many foolish things?" + +"Well, yes, general, that cannot be denied," replied Bourrienne, +shrugging his shoulders, while Josephine broke out into loud, joyous +laughter. + +"I would sooner speak to soldiers than to lawyers," said Bonaparte, +cheerfully. "These honorable fools made me timid. I am not accustomed to +speak to an audience--but that will come in time." + +With affectionate sympathy Josephine requested him to relate in detail +all the events of the day; and she listened with breathless attention to +the descriptions which Bonaparte made in his own terse, brief, and lucid +manner. + +"And Gohier?" said she, at last--"you know I love his wife, and when you +were in Egypt he was ever kind and attentive to me. You will not touch +him, will you, mon ami?" + +Bonaparte shrugged his shoulders. "What of it, my love?" said he; "it is +not my fault if he is pushed aside. Why has he not wished it otherwise? +He is a good-natured man, but a blockhead. He does not understand me.... +I would do much better to have him transported. He wrote against me to +the Council of the Elders, but his letter fell into my hands, and the +council has heard nothing of it. The unfortunate man!... Yesterday he +expected me to dinner.... And that is called statesmanship.... Let us +speak no more of this matter." [Footnote: Bonaparte's own words.--See +Bourrienne, vol. iii., p. 106.] + +Then he began to relate to his Josephine how Bernadotte had acted, +refusing to take any part in the events of the day, and how, when +Bonaparte had requested him at least to undertake nothing against him, +he answered: "As a citizen, I will keep quiet; but if the Directory +gives me the order to act, I will fight against every disturber of the +peace and every conspirator, whoever he may be." + +Bonaparte then suddenly turned to Bourrienne to dismiss him, that he +might himself take some rest; and when he extended his hand to bid him +farewell, he added, carelessly: + +"Apropos, to-morrow we sleep in the Luxemburg." It was decided!--the +long-premeditated deed was done! With the 18th Brumaire, Bonaparte had +made an important step forward on the path of fame and power whose end +was seen by him alone. + +Bonaparte was no longer a general receiving orders from a superior +authority; he was no longer the servant of the Directory; but he was now +the one who would give orders--he was the master and ruler; he stood at +the head of the French nation; he made the laws, and his deep, clear eye +looked far beyond both consuls who stood at his side, into that future +when he alone would be at the head of France; when, instead of the +uprooted throne of the lilies, he would sit in the Tuileries, in the +chair of the First Consul, this chair of a Caesar, which could so easily +become an emperor's throne! + +On the 20th Brumaire, Napoleon occupied the residence of the Directory +in the palace of the Luxemburg, after he had, through his brother Louis, +made Gohier prisoner, the only one of the directors who still lingered +there, and whom he afterward released. Josephine's intercession procured +the liberty of the husband of her friend, and this generous pardon +of the furious letter which Gohier had written against him was the +thank-offering which Bonaparte presented to the gods as he made his +entrance into the Luxemburg. + +The Luxemburg itself was, however, but a relay for a change of horses +in the wondrous journey which Bonaparte had to travel from the lawyer's +house on the island of Corsica to the throne-room of the Bourbons in the +palace of the Tuileries. + +In simple equipage, he with Josephine made his entrance into the +Luxemburg, but after the rest of a few weeks he left this station, to +make his entrance into the Tuileries in a magnificent carriage, drawn +by the six splendid grays which the Emperor of Austria had presented to +General Bonaparte in Campo Formio. For already another change had taken +place in the government of France, and the trefoil-leaf of the consuls +had assumed another form. + +The two consuls, who had stood at the side of Bonaparte, invested with +equal powers, had been set aside by the new constitution of the year +VIII., which the people had adopted on the 17th of February, 1800 (18th +Pluviose, year VIII.). This constitution named Bonaparte as consul for +ten years, and with him two other consuls, who were more his secretaries +than his colleagues. Next to him was Cambaceres, as second consul for +ten years, and then Lebrun, as third consul for five years. + +With these two consuls, Bonaparte, on the 19th of February, 1800, made +his solemn entry into the Tuileries. The old century, with its Bourbon +throne, its bloody revolution, its horrors, its party passions, had +passed away, and the new century found in the Tuileries a hero who +wanted to crush all parties with a hand of iron, and to place his foot +on the head of the revolution, so as to close the abyss which it had +opened, in order to build himself an emperor's throne over it. + +He was for the present satisfied to hear himself called "First Consul;" +he was willing for a short time to grant to the two men who sat at his +side in the carriage drawn by the six imperial grays, that they should +share the power with him, and should consider themselves vested with the +same authority. But Cambaceres and Lebrun had a keen ear for the joyful +shouts with which the people followed their triumphal march from the +Luxemburg to the Tuileries. They knew very well that these shouts and +acclamations were not addressed to them, but only to General Bonaparte, +the conqueror of Lodi and Arcola, the hero of the pyramids, the "savior +of society," who, on the 18th Brumaire, had rescued France from the +terrorists. Both consuls were shrewd enough to draw a lesson from this +enthusiasm of the people, and willingly to fall back into the shade +rather than to be forced into it. The Tuileries had been appointed +for the residence of the three consuls, but the next day after their +triumphal entry Cambaceres left the royal palace to take up his abode in +the Hotel Elboeuf, on the Place de Carrousel. Lebrun, who at first made +the Flora Pavilion his headquarters, soon found it more advisable to +take his lodgings elsewhere, and he left the Tuileries, to make his +residence in the Faubourg St. Honore. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. THE TUILERIES. + + +The Tuileries had again found a master; the halls where Marie Antoinette +received her joyous guests, her beautiful lady-friends, were now again +alive with elegant female figures, and resounded with gay voices, +cheerful laughter, and unaffected pleasantry. The apartments in which +Louis XVI. had passed such sad and fearful days, where he had laid with +his ministers such nefarious schemes, and where royalty had been trodden +down under the feet of the infuriated populace--these rooms were now +occupied by the hero who had subdued the people, slain the revolution +and restored to France peace and glory. + +The Tuileries had again found a master--the throne-room was still vacant +and empty, for the first consul of the republic dared not yet lay +claim to this throne which the revolution had destroyed, and which the +republic had forever removed from France. But if there was no throne +in the Tuileries, there was at least a court; and "Madame Etiquette," +driven away from the royal palace since the days of the unfortunate +Marie Antoinette, had again, though with modest and timid step, slipped +into the Tuileries. It is true, she now clandestinely occupied a +servant's room; but the day was not far distant when, as Egeria, +she would whisper advice and dictate laws to the ear of the new Numa +Pompilius; when all doors would be open to her, and when she alone +would, at all times, have access to the mighty lord of France. + +In the Luxemburg, the fraternity and the equality of the revolution had +been set aside, as, long before, on the 13th Vendemiaire, the liberty +of the revolution had been cast away. In the Luxemburg the "citoyenne" +Bonaparte had become "Madame" Bonaparte, and the young daughter of the +citizeness Josephine heard herself called "Mademoiselle" Hortense! + +After the entrance into the Tuileries, fraternity and equality +disappeared rapidly, and the distinctions of gentlemen and servants, +rulers and subjects, superiors and subordinates, were again introduced. +The chief of the administration was surrounded with honors and +distinctions; the court, with all its grades, degrees, and titles, was +there; it had its courtiers, flatterers, and defamers; and also its +brilliant festivities, splendors, and pomp! + +It is true this was not the work of a moment, nor so rapid an +achievement as the transition from the Luxemburg to the Tuileries, but +the introduction of the words "madame" and "monsieur" removed the first +obstacle which held the whole French nation bound to the same platform; +and a second obstacle had fallen, when permission was granted to all +the emigres, with the exception of the royal family, to return to their +native country. + +The aristocrats of old France returned in vast numbers; they, the +bearers of old names of glory, the legitimists, who had fled before the +guillotine, now hoped to win again the throne from the consulate. + +They kept themselves, however, aloof from the consul, whose greatness +and power were derived from the revolution, and who was to them a +representative of the rebellious, criminal republic; but they presented +themselves to his wife, they brought their homage to Josephine, the born +aristocrat, the relative and friend of so many emigrant families, and +they hoped, through her influence, to obtain what they dared not +ask from the first consul--the re-establishment of the throne of the +Bourbons. + +These aristocrats knew very well that Josephine longed for the return +of the royal family; that in her heart she cherished love and loyalty to +the unfortunate royal couple; and that, without any personal ambition, +without any desire for fame, but with the devotedness of a royalist, and +the affection of a noble, sensitive woman, she sighed for the time when +Bonaparte would again restore to the heir of Louis XVI. the throne of +the lilies, and recall to France the Count de Lille, to replace him as +king on his brother's throne. + +In fact, Josephine had faith in this fairy-tale of her royal heart; she +believed in those dreams with which her tender conscience lulled her +to repose, whenever she reproached herself, that she, the subject, now +walked and gave orders as mistress in this palace of royalty! "Why, +indeed, could she not believe in the realization of those dreams, since +Bonaparte himself seemed to cherish no further wishes than to rest on +his laurels, and to enjoy, in delightful privacy, the peace he had given +to France? + +"I am looked upon as ambitious," said Bonaparte one day, in the +confidential evening conversations with his friends in Josephine's +drawing-rooms, "I am looked upon as ambitious, and why? Listen, my +friends, to what I am going to tell you, and which you may repeat to +all. In three years I shall retire from public life; I shall then have +about fifty thousand livres income, and that is sufficient for my mode +of living. I will get a country residence, since Josephine loves a +country life. One thing only I need, and this I claim--I want to be the +justice of the peace for my circuit. Now, say, am I ambitious?" + +Every one laughed at the strange conceit of Bonaparte, who wished to +exchange his present course for the position of a justice of the peace, +and Bonaparte chimed in heartily with the laughter. + +But Josephine believed those words of Bonaparte, and their echoes had +perchance penetrated even to Russia, to the ears of the pretender to +the French throne, the Count de Lille, and to the ears of the Count +d'Artois, his brother, and they both therefore based their hopes on +Josephine's winning her husband to the cause of the Bourbons. + +Both sent their secret emissaries to Paris, to enter into some compact +with Josephine, and to prepare their pathway to the throne, after having +failed to negotiate directly with Bonaparte, who had repelled all their +efforts, and with haughty pride had answered the autograph letter of the +Count de Lille. + +The Count d'Artois, enlightened by the fruitless efforts of his brother, +resorted to another scheme. He sent a female emissary to Paris--not +to Bonaparte, but to Josephine. Napoleon himself speaks of it, in his +Memorial of St. Helena, as follows: + +"The Count d'Artois made his advances in a more eloquent and refined +manner. He sent to Paris the Duchess de Guiche, a charming woman, who +by the elegance of her manners and by her personal attractions was well +calculated to bring to a favorable result the object of her mission. She +easily obtained an introduction to Madame Bonaparte, who was acquainted +with all the persons of the old court. The beautiful duchess was +therefore invited to a dejeuner at Malmaison; and during breakfast, when +the conversation ran upon London, the emigrants, and the princes, Madame +de Guiche stated that a few days before she had called upon the Count +d'Artois. They had spoken of current events, of the future of France, +of the royal family, and one of the confidants had asked the prince +what would be the reward of the first consul if he re-established +the Bourbons! The prince answered: 'First of all he would be created +connetable, with all the privileges attached to that rank, if that were +agreeable to him. But that would not be enough; we would erect to him +on the Place de Carrousel a tall and costly column, and on it we would +raise the statue of Bonaparte crowning the Bourbons.' A short time after +the dejeuner the consul entered, and Josephine had nothing more pressing +to do than to relate to him all these details. 'And have you inquired,' +asked her husband, 'whether this column would have for a pedestal the +corpse of the first consul?' The beautiful duchess was still present, +and with her winning ways she was well calculated to carry her point. 'I +shall ever be happy,' said she, 'and grateful for the kindness of +Madame Bonaparte in having granted me the opportunity of gazing upon and +listening to a great man--a hero.' But it was all in vain; the Duchess +de Guiche the same night received orders to depart immediately; and +the beauty of this emissary appeared to Josephine too dangerous for her +urgently to intercede in her behalf. Early next morning Madame de Guiche +was on her way to the frontier." [Footnote: "Memorial de Ste. Helene," +vol. i., p. 34.] + +The Count de Lille chose for his mediator a very devoted servant, the +most skilful of all his agents, the Marquis de Clermont Gallerande. He +also was kindly received by Josephine, and he found access to her ear. +With intense sympathy, and tears in her eyes, she bade him tell her +the sad wanderings of that unfortunate man, "his majesty the King of +France," and who as a fugitive was barely tolerated, roaming from court +to court, a protege of the good-will of foreign potentates. Drawn away +by her generous heart, and by her unswerving loyalty to the faith of her +childhood, she spoke enthusiastically of the young royal couple who once +had ruled in the Tuileries; and she went so far as to express the hope +that Bonaparte would again make good what the revolution had destroyed, +and that he would restore to the King of France his lost throne. + +The Marquis de Clermont, to prove to her what confidence he reposed in +her, and what consideration the King of France entertained for the first +consul and his adored wife, communicated to her a letter from the Count +de Lille to him, which was in itself a masterpiece, well calculated to +move the heart of Josephine. + +The Count de Lille portrayed in this letter first the dangers which +would threaten Bonaparte if he should allow himself to be drawn into the +inconsiderate and criminal step of placing the crown of France on his +own head, and then continued: + +"Sitting upon a volcano, Bonaparte would sooner or later be destroyed by +it if he hastens not in due time to close the crater. Sitting upon +the first step of the throne restored by his own hand, he would be +the object of a monarch's gratitude; he would receive from France the +highest regards, the more pure since they would be the result of his +administration and of public esteem. No one can convince him of these +truths better than she whose fortune is bound up with his, who can +be happy only in his happiness and honored only in his reputation. I +consider it a great point gained if you can come into some relation +with her. I know her sentiments from days of old. The Count de Vermeuil, +ex-governor of the Antilles, whose judgment as you know is most +excellent, has told me more than once that in Martinique he had often +noticed how her fealty to the crown deepened nearly to distraction; and +the protection which she grants to my faithful subjects who appeal +to her, entitles her justly to the name you give her, 'an angel of +goodness.' Let my sentiments be known to Madame Bonaparte. You will not +surprise her, but I flatter myself that her soul will rejoice to know +them." [Footnote: Thibaudeau, "Histoire de la France, et de Napoleon +Bonaparte," vol. ii., p. 202.] + +The Count de Lille was not deceived. Josephine's heart was filled with +joy at this confidence of the "King of France;" she was pleased that the +Marquis de Clermont had fulfilled his wishes, and that he should with +this letter have sent her a present. She read it with a countenance full +of enthusiasm, and with a tremulous voice, to her daughter Hortense, +whom she had educated to be as good a royalist as herself; and both +mother and daughter besieged, with earnest petitions, with tears and +prayers, and every expression of love, the first consul to realize the +hopes of the Count de Lille, and to recall the exiled prince to his +kingdom. + +Bonaparte usually replied to all these requests with a silent smile; +sometimes also, when they were too violent and pressing, he repelled +them with unwilling vehemence. + +"These women belong entirely to the devil!" said he, in his anger to +Bourrienne, "they are mad for royalty. The Faubourg St. Germain has +turned their heads, they are made the protecting genii of the royalists; +but they do not trouble me, and I am not displeased with them." + +Bourrienne ventured to warn Josephine, and to call her attention to +this, that she might not so strongly plead before Bonaparte for the +Count de Lille, but Josephine answered him with a sad smile: "I wish I +could persuade him to call back the king, lest he himself may have the +idea of becoming such; for the fear that he may do this always awakens +in me a foreboding of evil, which I cannot banish from my mind." +[Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. iv., p. 108.] + +But until the king was really recalled by the first consul, Josephine +had to be pleased to assume the place of queen in the Tuileries, and to +accept the homage which France and soon all Europe brought to her. For +now that the republic was firmly established, and had made peace with +the foreign powers, they sent their ambassadors to the republic, and +were received in the name of France by the first consul and his wife. + +It was indeed an important and significant moment when Josephine for +the first time in her apartments received the ambassadors of the foreign +powers. It is true no one called this "to give audience;" no one spoke +yet in genuine courtier's style of "great levee" or "little levee;" the +appellation of "madame" was yet in use, and there was no court-marshal, +no maids of honor, no chamberlains of the palace. But the substance was +the same, and, instead of the high court-marshal, it was Talleyrand, +the secretary for foreign affairs, who introduced to Josephine the +ambassadors, and who called their names. + +This introduction of the ambassadors was the first grand ceremony which, +since the revolution, had taken place in the Tuileries. With exquisite +tact, Josephine had carefully avoided at this festivity any pomp, any +luxury of toilet. In a plain white muslin dress, her beautiful brown +hair bound up in a string of white pearls, and holding Talleyrand's +hand, she entered the great reception hall, in which the foreign +ambassadors, the generals, and the high dignitaries of the republic +were gathered. She came without pretension or ostentation, but at her +appearance a murmur of admiration ran through the company, and brought +on her cheeks the timid blush of a young maiden. With the assurance of +an accomplished lady of the world she received the salutations of the +ambassadors, knew how to speak to each a gracious word, how to entertain +them, not with those worn-out, stereotyped phrases customary at royal +presentations, but in an interesting, intellectual manner, which at once +opened the way to an exciting, witty, and unaffected conversation. + +Every one was enchanted with her, and from this day not only the French +aristocracy, but all distinguished foreigners who came to Paris, were +anxious to obtain the honor of a reception in the drawing-room of the +wife of the first consul; from this day Josephine was the admiration of +Europe, as she had already been that of France and Italy. As the wife +of the first consul of France she could be observed and noticed by +all Europe, and it is certainly a most remarkable and unheard-of +circumstance that of all these thousands of eyes directed at her, none +could find in her a stain or blemish; that, though neither beautiful nor +young, her sweet disposition and grace so enchanted every one as to be +accepted as substitutes for them, while on account of her goodness +and generosity her very failings and weaknesses were overlooked, being +interwoven with so many virtues. + +Constant, the first chamberlain of Bonaparte, who, at the time Bonaparte +was elected first consul, entered his service, describes Josephine's +appearance and character in the following manner: + +"Napoleon's wife was of medium size; her figure was moulded with rare +perfection; her movements had a softness and an elasticity which gave +to her walk something ethereal, without diminishing the majesty of a +sovereign. Her very expressive physiognomy mirrored all the emotions of +her soul without losing aught of the enchanting gentleness which was the +very substance of her character. At the moment of joy or merriment she +was beautiful to behold. Never did a woman more than she justify the +expression that the eyes were the mirror of the soul. Hers were of a +deep-blue color, shadowed by long, slightly-curved lids, and overarched +by the most beautiful eyebrows in the world, and her simple look +attracted you toward her as if by an irresistible power. It was +difficult for Josephine to give to this bewitching look an appearance of +severity, yet she knew how to make it imposing when she chose. Her hair +was beautiful, long, and soft; its light-brown color agreed marvellously +well with her complexion, which was a mixture of delicacy and freshness. +At the dawn of her lofty power the empress was fond of putting on for +a head-dress a red Madras, which gave her the piquant appearance of a +creole. But what more than any thing else contributed to the charm which +invested her whole person was the sweet tone of her voice. How often it +has happened to me and to many others amid our occupations, as soon +as this voice was heard, to remain still for the sake of enjoying the +pleasure of hearing it! It might be said, perhaps, that the empress was +not a beautiful woman; but her countenance, so full of expression and +goodness, the angelic grace which was shed over her whole person, placed +her among the most charming women of the world." + +Further on, speaking of her character, he continues: + +"Goodness was as inseparable from her character as grace from her +person. Good even to weakness, sensitive beyond all expression, generous +to extravagance, she was the delight of all those who were round about +her; certain it is that there never was a woman more loved and more +deservedly loved by those who approached her than Josephine. As she had +known what adversity was, she was full of compassion for the sorrows +of others; with a pleasant, equable temperament, full of condescension +alike to foe and friend, she carried peace wherever discord or disunion +existed; if the emperor was displeased with his brothers, or with any +other person, she uttered words of affection, and soon restored harmony. +She possessed a wondrous tact, a rare sentiment of what was becoming, +and the soundest and most unerring judgment one can possibly imagine. +Besides all this, Josephine had a remarkable memory, to which the +emperor would often appeal. She was a good reader, and had a peculiar +charm of her own which accorded with all her movements. Napoleon +preferred her to all his other readers." [Footnote: Constant, +"Memoires," vol. i., pp. 21, 39; vol. ii., p. 70.] + +The Duke de Rovigo, the Duchess d'Abrantes, Mdlle. Ducrest, the niece of +the Countess de Genlis, Mdlle. d'Avrillon, General Lafayette, in a word, +all who have written about that period who knew Josephine, bear similar +testimony to her amiable disposition and her superior virtues. + +In the same manner the man for whom, as Mdlle. Ducrest says, "she would +gladly have given her life," Napoleon, in his conversations with his +confidential friends at St. Helena, ever spoke of her. "In all positions +of life, Josephine's demeanor and actions were always pleasant or +bewitching," said he. "It would have been impossible ever to surprise +her, however intrusive you might be, so as to produce a disagreeable +impression. I always found her in the same humor; she had the same +amiable complacency; she was good, gentle, and ever devoted to her +husband in true affection. He never saw her in bad humor; she was always +constantly busy in endeavoring to please him." [Footnote: "Memorial de +Ste. Helene," vol. i. pp. 38, 79.] + +And she pleased him more than any other woman; he loved her in these +happy days of the consulate with all the affection of the first days of +his marriage; his heart might now and then be drawn aside from her to +other women, but it always returned true and loving to her. + +And this woman, whom the future King of France called an "angel of +goodness," and the future Emperor of France, "grace in person," is the +one who entered the Tuileries at Bonaparte's side to bring again into +France the tone of good society, refinement of manners, intellectual +conversation, and a love for the arts and sciences. + +She was fully conscious of this mission, and devoted herself with +all the strength, energy, and perseverance of her character. Her +drawing-room soon became the central rendezvous of men of science, art, +learning, politics, and diplomacy, and to each Josephine knew how to +address friendly and captivating words; she knew how to encourage every +one by her noble affability, by her respectful interest in their works +and plans--so much so that all strove to do as well as possible, and +in her presence appeared more amiable than they otherwise would perhaps +have been. Alongside of the distinguished men of every rank were seen +the choicest company of ladies, young, beautiful, and captivating; the +most intelligent women of the Faubourg St. Germain were not ashamed to +appear in the drawing-room of the wife of the first consul, and thought +that the glory of their old aristocratic names would not be tarnished +by association with Madame Bonaparte, who by birth belonged to them, +and formed a sort of connecting link between the departed royalty of the +last century and the republicans of the present. + +This republicanism was soon to hide itself behind the columns and +mirrors of the large hall of reception in the Tuileries. Bonaparte--the +first consul, and shortly to be consul for life--would have nothing to +do with this republicanism, which reminded him of the days of terrorism, +anarchy, and the guillotine; and the words "Liberty, Equality, and +Fraternity," which the revolution had written over the portals of the +Tuileries, were obliterated by the consul of the republic. France had +been sufficiently bled, and had suffered enough for these three words; +it was now to rest under the shadow of legal order and of severe +discipline, after its golden morning-dream of youth's enchanting hopes. + +Bonaparte was to re-establish order and law; Josephine was to remodel +society and the saloon; her mission was to unite the aristocracy of +ancient France with the parvenues of the new; she was to be to the +latter a teacher of refinement, and of the genuine manners and habits of +so-called good society. + +To accomplish this, the wife of the first consul needed the assistance +of some ladies of those circles who had remained in lofty, haughty +isolation; she needed the co-operation of the ladies of the Faubourg +St. Germain. It is true they made their morning calls, and invited the +former Viscountess de Beauharnais, with her daughter, to their evening +receptions; but they carefully avoided being present at the evening +circles of Madame Bonaparte, where their exclusiveness was beset with +the danger of coming in contact with some "parvenu," or with some sprig +of the army, or of the financial bureaus. Josephine therefore had to +recruit her troops herself in the Faubourg St. Germain, so as to +bring into her saloon the necessary contingent of the old legitimist +aristocracy, and she found what she desired in a lady with whom she had +been acquainted as Viscountess de Beauharnais, and who then had +ever shown herself kind and friendly. This lady was the Countess de +Montesson, the morganatic wife of the Duke d'Orleans, the father of +the Duke Philippe Egalite, who, after betraying the monarchy to +the revolution, was betrayed by the revolution, and, like his royal +relatives, Louis and Marie Antoinette, had perished on the scaffold! + +Soon after his entrance into the Tuileries, the first consul invited, +through his wife, the Countess de Montesson to visit him, and when she +was announced he advanced to meet her with an unusual expression of +friendship, and endeavored with great condescension to make her say in +what manner he could please her or be of service to her. + +"General," said Madame de Montesson, much surprised, "I have no right +whatever to claim any thing from you." + +Bonaparte smiled. "You are mistaken," said he; "I have been under many +obligations to you for a long time past. Do you not know that to you I +am indebted for my first laurels? You came with the Duke d'Orleans +to Brienne for the purpose of distributing the prizes at the great +examination, and when you placed on my head the laurel-crown, which has +since been followed by others, you said, 'May it bring you happiness!' +It is commonly believed that I am a fatalist; it is therefore very +natural that I should not have forgotten my first coronation, and that +it is still fresh in my memory. It would afford me much pleasure to be +of service to you; besides, you can be useful to me. The tone of good +society has nearly perished in France; we would like to renew it again +with your assistance. I need some of the traditions of days gone by--you +can assist my wife with them; and when a distinguished foreigner comes +to Paris you can give him a reception which will convince him that +nowhere else can so much gentleness and amiableness be found." +[Footnote: "Memoires de Mdlle. Ducrest," vol. i., p. 9.] + +That Madame de Montesson might have a striking proof of Bonaparte's +good-will, he renewed her yearly pension of one hundred and eighty +thousand francs, which the duke had donated to her in his will, and +which Bonaparte restored to her as the property which the revolution had +confiscated for the nation's welfare. She manifested her gratitude to +the first consul for this liberal pension by opening the saloons to +the "parvenues of the Tuileries;" and leading the aristocrats of the +Faubourg St. Germain into the drawing-rooms of Josephine, and then +assisting her to form out of these elements a court whose lofty and +brilliant centre was to be Josephine herself. The ladies of the Faubourg +St. Germain were no longer ashamed to appear at the new court of the +Tuileries, but excused themselves by saying: "We flatter Josephine, so +as to keep her on our side, and to strengthen her loyalty to the king. +She will, by her entrancing eloquence, persuade the consul to recall our +King Louis XVIII., and give him his crown." + +But too soon, alas! were they made aware of their error. It was not long +before they became convinced that, if Bonaparte's hands were busy in +raising a throne, in lifting up from the earth the fallen crown of +royalty, he was not doing this to place it on the brow of the Count de +Lille; he had a nearer object in view--he considered his own head better +suited to wear it. + +The conqueror of terrorism and of the revolution was not inclined to +be defeated by the enemies of the republic, who were approaching the +frontiers of France, to restore the Bourbons. He took up the glove which +Austria had thrown down--for she had made alliance with England. + +On the 6th of May, 1800, Bonaparte left Paris, marched with his army +over Mount St. Bernard, and assumed the chief command of the army in +Italy, which recently had suffered so many disastrous defeats from +Suwarrow and the Archduke Charles. + +At Marengo, on the 14th of June, Bonaparte obtained a brilliant triumph. +Soon after, at Hohenlinden, Moreau also defeated the Austrians. These +two decisive victories forced Austria to make peace with France, to +abandon her alliance with England--that is to say, with the monarchical +principles; and, at the peace ratified in the beginning of the year 1801 +at Limeville, to concede to France the grand-duchy of Tuscany. + +In July, Bonaparte returned in triumph to France, and was received +by the people with enthusiastic acclamations. Paris was brilliantly +illuminated on the day of his return, and round about the Tuileries +arose the shouts of the people, who with applauding voices demanded +to see the conqueror of Marengo, and would not remain quiet until he +appeared on the balcony. Even Bonaparte was touched by this enthusiasm +of the French people; as he retreated from the balcony and retired into +his cabinet, he said to Bourrienne. "Listen! The people shout again +and again; they still send their acclamations toward me. I love those +sounds; they are nearly as sweet as Josephine's voice. How proud and +happy I am to be loved by such a people!" [Footnote: Bourrienne, vol. +v., p. 35.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE INFERNAL MACHINE. + + +The victory of Marengo, which had pleased the people, had filled the +royalists with terror and fear, and destroyed their hopes of a speedy +restoration of the monarchy, making them conscious of its fruitless +pretensions. With the frenzy of hatred and the bitterness of revenge +they turned against the first consul, who was not now their expected +savior of the monarchy, but a usurper who wanted to gain France for +himself. + +The royalists and the republicans united for the same object. Both +parties longed to destroy Bonaparte: the one to re-establish the +republic of the year 1793, and the other the throne of the Bourbons. +Everywhere conspiracies and secret associations were organized, and +the watchful and active police discovered in a few months more than ten +plots, the aim of which was to murder Bonaparte. + +Josephine heard this with sorrow and fear, with tears of anxiety and +love. She had now given her whole heart and soul to Bonaparte, and +it was the torment of martyrdom to see him every day threatened by +assassins and by invisible foes, who from dark and hidden places drew +their daggers at him. Her love surrounded him with vigilant friends and +servants, who sought to discover every danger and to remove it from his +path. + +When he was coming to Malmaison, Josephine before his arrival would send +her servants to search every hiding-place in the park, to see if in some +shady grove a murderer might not be secreted; she entreated Junot or +Murat to send scouts from Paris on the road to Malmaison to remove all +suspicious persons from it. Yet her heart trembled with anxiety when she +knew him to be on the way, and, when he had safely arrived, she would +receive him with rapture, as if he had just escaped an imminent danger, +and would make him laugh by the exclamations of joy with which she +greeted him as one saved from danger. + +In the anxiety of her watchful love she made herself acquainted with +all the details of the discovered conspiracies of both the Jacobins +and royalists. She knew there were two permanent conspiracies at work, +though their leaders had been discovered and led into prison. + +One of these conspiracies had been organized by the old Jacobins, the +republicans of the Convention; and these bands of the "enraged," as +they called themselves, numbered in their ranks all the enemies of +constitutional order, all the men of the revolution of 1789; and all +these men had sworn with solemn oaths to kill Bonaparte, and to deliver +the republic from her greatest and most dangerous enemy. + +The other conspiracy, which had its ramifications throughout France, was +formed by the royalists. "The Society of the White Mantle" was mostly +composed of Chouans, daring men of Vendee, who were ever ready to +sacrifice their lives to the mere notion of royalty, and who like the +Jacobins had sworn to murder Bonaparte. + +Chevalier, who, with his ingenious infernal machine, sought to kill +Bonaparte on his way to Malmaison, belonged to the Society of the White +Mantle. But he was betrayed by his confidant and associate Becyer, who +assisted the police to arrest him. To the conspiracy of the "enraged" +belonged the Italians Ceracchi, Arena, and Diana, who at the opera, when +the consul appeared in his loge, and was greeted by the acclamations of +the people, were ready to fire their pistols at him. But at the moment +they were about to commit the deed from behind the side-scenes, where +they had hidden themselves, they were seized, arrested, and led to +prison by the police. Josephine, as already said, knew all these +conspiracies; she trembled for Bonaparte's life, and yet she could +not prevent him from appearing in public, and she herself, smiling and +apparently unsuspecting, had to appear at Bonaparte's side at the +grand parades, in the national festivities, and at the theatrical +performances; no feature on her face was to betray the anxiety she was +enduring. + +One day, however, not only Bonaparte's life but also that of Josephine, +was imperilled by the conspirators; the famous infernal machine which +had been placed on their way to the opera, would have killed the first +consul and his wife, if a red Persian shawl had not saved them both. + +At the grand opera, that evening, was to be performed Joseph Haydn's +masterpiece, "The Creation." The Parisians awaited this performance +with great expectation; they rushed to the opera, not only to hear the +oratorio, the fame of which had spread from Vienna to Paris, but also +to see Bonaparte and his wife, who it was known would attend the +performance. + +Josephine had requested Bonaparte to be present at this great musical +event, for she knew that the public would be delighted at his presence. +He at first manifested no desire to do so, for he was not sufficiently +versed in musical matters for it to afford him much enjoyment; and +besides, there was but one kind of music he liked, and that was the +Italian, the richness of whose melody pleased him, while the German and +French left him dissatisfied and weary. However, Bonaparte gave way to +the entreaties of Josephine, and resolved to drive to the opera. +The dinner that day had been somewhat later than usual, for besides +Josephine, her children, and Bonaparte's sister Caroline, Murat, the +Generals Bessieres and Lannes, as well as Bonaparte's two adjutants, +Lebrun and Rapp, had been present. Immediately after dinner they wanted +to drive to the opera; but as Josephine lingered behind, busy with the +arrangement of her shawl, Bonaparte declared he would drive in advance +with the two Generals Bessieres and Lebrun, while Rapp was to accompany +the ladies in the second carriage. With his usual rapidity of action he +seized his hat and sword, and, followed by his companions, left the room +to go to the carriage, which was waiting. + +Josephine, who imagined that Bonaparte was waiting for her at the +carriage, hurriedly put on, without troubling herself any longer about +the becoming arrangement of the folds, a red Persian shawl, which +Bonaparte had sent her as a present from Egypt. She was going to leave, +when Rapp, with the openness of a soldier, made the remark that she had +not put on her shawl to-day with her accustomed elegance. She smiled, +and begged him to arrange it after the fashion of Egyptian ladies. Rapp +laughingly hastened to comply with her wishes; and while Josephine, +Madame Murat, and Hortense, watched attentively the arrangement of the +shawl in the hands of Rapp, Bonaparte's carriage was heard moving away. + +This noise put a speedy end to all further movements, and Josephine, +with the ladies and Rapp, hastened to follow Bonaparte. Their carriage +had no sooner reached the Place de Carrousel, than an appalling +explosion was heard, and a bright flame like a lightning-flash filled +the whole place with its glare; at the same moment the windows of the +carriage were broken into fragments, which flew in every direction +into the carriage, and one of which penetrated so deep into the arm +of Hortense, that the blood gushed out. Josephine uttered a cry of +horror--"Bonaparte is murdered!" At the same moment were heard loud +shrieks and groans. + +Rapp, seized with fear, and only thinking that Bonaparte was in danger, +sprang out of the carriage, and, careless of the wounded and bleeding, +who lay near, ran onward to the opera to find out if Bonaparte had +safely reached there. While the ladies, in mortal agony, remained on the +Place de Carrousel, not knowing whether to return to the Tuileries or +to drive forward, a messenger arrived at full speed to announce that the +first consul had not been hurt, and that he was waiting for his wife +in his loge, and begged her to come without delay. Meanwhile Rapp had +reached the opera, and had penetrated into the box of the first consul. +Bonaparte was seated calmly and unmoved in his accustomed place, +examining the audience through his glass, and now and then addressing +a few words to the secretary of police, Fouche, who stood near him. +No sooner did Bonaparte see Rapp, than he said hastily, and in a low +voice--"Josephine?" + +At that moment she entered, followed by Madame Murat and Hortense. +Bonaparte saluted them with a smile, and with a look of unfathomable +love he extended his hand to Josephine. She was still pale and +trembling, although she had no conception of the greatness of the danger +which had menaced her. + +Bonaparte endeavored to quiet her by stating that the explosion was +probably the result of some accident or imprudence; but at this moment +the prefect of the police entered who had been on the spot, and had +come to give a report of the dreadful effects of the explosion. Fifteen +persons had been killed, more than thirty had been severely wounded, +and about forty houses seriously damaged. This was all the work of +a so-called infernal machine--a small barrel filled with powder and +quicksilver--which had been placed in a little carriage at the entrance +of the Hue St. Nicaise. + +Until now Josephine did not realize the extent of the danger which had +threatened her and her husband. Had the explosion taken place a few +moments before, it would have killed the consul; if it had been one +minute later, Josephine and her companions would have been involved +in the catastrophe. It was the shawl which Rapp was arranging on her +shoulders according to the rules of art, which caused them to retard +their departure, and thus saved her life. + +An inexpressible horror now seized her and made her tremble; her looks, +full of love and deep anguish, were fixed on Bonaparte, who, in a low +voice, entreated her to compose herself, and not to make her distress +public. Near Josephine sat Hortense, pale and agitated, like her mother; +around her wounded arm was wrapped a handkerchief, stained here and +there with blood. Madame Murat was quiet and composed, like Bonaparte, +who was then giving instructions to the prefect of police to provide +immediate assistance for the unfortunate persons who had been wounded. + +No one yet in the audience knew the appalling event. The thundering +noise had been heard, but it was presumed to have been an artillery +salute, and no evil was suspected, for Bonaparte, with his usual guards, +had entered his box, and, advancing to its very edge, had saluted the +public in a friendly way. This act of the first consul had its ordinary +effect: the audience, indifferent to the music, rose and saluted their +hero with loud acclamation and applause. Not till Josephine entered the +loge had the acclamations subsided, and the music begun again. A few +minutes after, the news of the fearful event spread all over the house: +a murmur arose, and the music was interrupted anew. + +The Duchess d'Abrantes, who was present at this scene, gives a faithful, +eloquent, and graphic picture of it: + +"A vague noise," says she, "began to spread from the parterre to the +orchestra, and from the amphitheatre to the boxes. Soon the news of the +occurrence was known all over the house, when, like a sudden clap of +thunder, an acclamation burst forth, and the whole audience, with a +single undivided look of love, seemed to desire to embrace Bonaparte. +What I am narrating I have seen, and I am not the only one who saw it. +... What excitement followed this first explosion of national anger, +which at this moment was represented by the audience, whose horror at +the dark plot cannot be described with words! Women were seen weeping +and sobbing; men, pale as death, trembled with vengeance and anger, +whatever might have been the political standard which they followed; all +hearts and hands were united to prove that difference of opinion creates +no difference in the interpretation of the code of honor. During the +whole scene my eyes were fixed on the loge of the consul. He was quiet, +and only seemed moved when public sentiment gave utterance to strong +expressive words about the conspiracy, and these reached him. Madame +Bonaparte was not fully composed. Her countenance was disturbed; even +her attitude, generally so very graceful, was no longer under her +control. She seemed to tremble under her shawl as under a protecting +canopy, and in fact it was this shawl which had saved her from +destruction. She was weeping; however much she endeavored to compose +herself, she could not repress her tears; they would flow, against her +will, down her pale cheeks, and, whenever Josephine fixed her eyes upon +her husband, she trembled again. Even her daughter seemed extremely +agitated, and Madame Murat alone preserved the family character, and +seemed entirely herself." [Footnote: Duchess d'Abrantes, "Memoires," +vol. ii., p. 66.] + +At last, when the public excitement was somewhat abated, and the +music was again resumed, the audience turned its attention to Hadyn's +masterpiece. But Josephine had not the strength to bear this effort, and +to submit to it quietly. She entreated her husband to retire with her +and the ladies; and when at last he acceded to her request, and had +quietly left the loge with her, Josephine sat by him in the carriage, +opposite Caroline and Hortense, and, sobbing, threw herself on +Bonaparte's breast, and cried out in her anguish: + +"What a life, where I must ever be trembling for you!" + +The infernal machine did not kill the first consul, but it gave to +liberty and to the republic a fatal blow; it scattered into fragments +what remained of the revolutionary institutions from the days of blood +and terror. France rose up in disgust and horror against the party +which made of assassins its companions, and consequently this conspiracy +failed to accomplish what its originators had expected. They wanted to +destroy Bonaparte and ruin his power, but this abortive attempt only +increased his popularity, enlarged his power, and deepened the people's +love for him who now appeared to them as a protecting rampart, and a +barrier to the flood of anarchy. + +France gave herself up trembling, and without a will of her own, into +the hands of the hero to whom she was indebted for fame and recognition +by foreign powers, and through whom she hoped to secure domestic peace. +France longed for a strong arm to support her; Bonaparte gave her this +arm, but it not only supported France, it bowed her down; and from this +day he placed the reins on the wild republican steed, and let it feel +that it had found a master who had the power and the will to direct it +entirely in accordance with his wishes. + +Bonaparte was determined to put an end to the seditions and conspiracies +of the republicans, whom he hated because they had for their aim the +downfall of all legitimate authority; and in turn was hated by them +because he had abandoned their standard and turned against the republic +with the faithlessness of a son who attacks the mother that gave him +birth. Bonaparte maintained that it was the republicans who had set the +infernal machine on his path, and paid no attention to the opinion of +Fouche, who ascribed to the royalists the origin of the plot. Bonaparte +wished first to do away with his most violent and bitter enemies, +the republicans of the year 1789; he desired to possess the power of +punishing such, and to render them harmless, and now the horror produced +by this criminal act came to his assistance in carrying out this plan. + +The council of the state adopted the legislative enactment that the +consuls should have "the power to remove from Paris those persons whose +presence they considered dangerous to the public security, and that +all such persons who should leave their place of banishment should be +transported from the country!" + +Under this law, George Cadoudal, Chevalier, Arena, Ceracchi, and many +others were executed; and one hundred and thirty persons, whose +only crime was that of being suspected of dissatisfaction toward the +administration of the consuls, and considered as Bonaparte's enemies, +were transported to Cayenne. + +Such were for France the results of this infernal machine, the object of +which was to assassinate the Consul Bonaparte, instead of which it had +only the effect of destroying his enemies and strengthening his power. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. THE CASHMERES AND THE LETTER. + + +As mighty events always exercise an influence on minor ones, so this +fearful attempt at murder became the occasion for the introduction into +France of a new branch of industry, which had hitherto drawn millions +from Europe to the East. + +Josephine, gratefully remembering her truly wonderful deliverance +through the means of her Persian shawl, wore it afterward in preference +to any other. Until then she had never fancied it, for when Bonaparte +sent it to her from Egypt, she wrote to him: "I have received the shawl. +It may be very beautiful and very costly, but I find it unsightly. Its +great advantage consists in its lightness. I doubt, however, if this new +fashion will meet with approbation. Notwithstanding, I am pleased with +it, for it is rare and warm." [Footnote: "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice," +par Mademoiselle Ducrest, vol. iii., p. 227.] + +But after it had saved her life, she no longer thought it unsightly, she +was fond of wrapping herself up in it, and the natural consequence was, +that these Persian shawls soon formed the most fashionable and costly +article of apparel. + +Every lady of the higher classes considered it a necessity to cover her +tender shoulders with this valuable foreign material, and it soon became +"comme il faut" a duty of position, to possess a collection of such +Persian shawls, and to wear them at the balls and receptions in the +Tuileries. + +The desire to possess such a precious article of fashion led these +ladies oftentimes to "corriger la fortune" and to obtain, by some bold +but not very creditable act, possession of such a shawl, which had +now become in a certain measure the escutcheon of the new French +aristocracy. + +The Duchess d'Abrantes, in reference to this matter, relates two thefts +which at that time troubled the aristocratic society of the Tuileries, +which prove that the ladies had taken instructions from the gentlemen, +and that dishonest persons of both sexes were admitted into the society +of heroes and their beautiful wives! + +At a morning reception in the Tuileries, the shawl of the Countess de +St. Martin had been stolen; and this lady was very much distressed at +the loss, for this cashmere was not only a present from Madame Murat, +but was one of uncommon beauty, on account of the rarity of the design, +consisting of paroquets in artistic groups, instead of the ordinary +palm. The countess was therefore untiring in recounting to every one her +irreparable loss, and uttered bitter curses against the bold female who +had stolen her treasure. + +"A few weeks later," relates the duchess, "at a ball given by the +minister Talleyrand, the countess came toward me with a bright +countenance and told me that she had just now found her shawl, and, +strange to say, upon the shoulders of a young lady at the ball! + +"'But,' said I to her, 'you will not accuse this lady before the whole +company!' + +"'And why not?' + +"'Because that would be wrong. Leave this matter to me.' + +"She would not at first, but I pressed the subject on her consideration, +and she agreed at length to remain somewhat behind, while I approached +the young lady, who stood near the door, and was just going to leave the +ballroom. I told her in a low voice that in all probability she had +made a mistake; that she had perhaps mislaid her own cashmere, and had +through carelessness taken the shawl of the Countess de St. Martin. + +"I was as polite as I could possibly be in such a communication; but the +young lady looked at me unpleasantly for such an impertinent intrusion, +and replied that 'since the time the Countess de St. Martin had deafened +the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl, she had had +ample leisure to recognize as her property the cashmere she wore.' Her +mother, who stood a few steps from her, and was conversing with another +lady, turned toward her when she heard her daughter speak in so loud a +voice. But the Countess de St. Martin, who had overheard that she 'had +deafened the ears of every one with the story of her stolen shawl,' +rushed in to the rescue of her case. + +"'This cashmere belongs to me,' said she, haughtily--seizing, at the +same time, the shawl with one hand, while the young lady with her fist +thrust her back violently. I saw that in a moment they would come to +blows. + +"'It will be easy to end this difficulty,' said I to the Countess de St. +Martin. 'Madame will be kind enough to tell us where she has purchased +this shawl which is so much like yours, and then you will see your +mistake, and be satisfied.' + +"'It does not suit me to tell where I got this shawl,' replied the lady, +looking at me contemptuously; 'there is no necessity for my telling you +where I purchased it.' + +"'Well, then,' exclaimed eagerly the Countess de St. Martin, 'you +confess, madame, that the shawl really belongs to you?' + +"The other answered with a sarcastic smile, and drew the shawl closer +to her shoulders. A few persons, attracted by the strangeness of such +a scene, had gathered around us, and seemed to wait for the end of so +extraordinary an event. + +"The countess continued with a loud voice: + +"'Well, then, madame, since the shawl belongs to you, you can explain to +me why the name of Christine, which is my first name, is embroidered in +red silk on the small edging. Madame Junot will be kind enough to look +for this name.' + +"The young woman became pale as death. I shall never during my life +forget the despairing look which she gave me, as with trembling hand she +passed me the shawl, just as her father appeared from a room near the +place of the scene. I took the cashmere with an unsteady hand, and +sought reluctantly for the name of Christine, for I trusted she would at +least have taken it out; but the deathly paleness of the guilty one told +the contrary, and in fact I had no sooner unfolded the shawl, than the +name appeared, embroidered at the narrow edging. + +"'Ah!' at last exclaimed the countess, in a triumphant tone, 'I have--' +but as she raised her eyes to the young woman, she was touched by her +despairing look. 'Well, then,' cried she, 'this is one of those mistakes +which so often happen. To-morrow I will return your cashmere.--We have +exchanged cashmeres,' said she, turning to the young lady's father, +who, surprised at seeing her naked shoulders, gazed at his daughter, +not understanding the matter. 'You will have the goodness to send me my +shawl to-morrow,' added she, noticing how the young woman trembled. + +"We returned into the ballroom, and the next day the young lady sent to +the Countess de St. Martin her precious shawl. + +"Something similar to this happened at the same time to Madame Hamelin. +She was at a ball; when rising from her seat to join in a contra-dance, +she left there a very beautiful black shawl; when she returned, +her shawl was no longer there, but she saw it on the shoulders of a +well-known and distinguished lady. Approaching her, she said: + +"'Madame, you have my shawl!' + +"'Not at all, madame!' + +"'But, madame, this is my shawl, and, as an evidence, I can state the +number of its palms--it has exactly thirteen, a very unusual number!' + +"'My shawl has also, by chance, precisely thirteen palms.' + +"'But,' said Madame Hamelin, 'I have torn it since I came here. You can +see where it is torn, and by that means I recognize my shawl.' + +"'Ah, my goodness! my shawl has also been torn; that is precisely why I +bought it, for I obtained it on that account somewhat cheaper.' + +"It is useless to dispute with a person who is determined to follow +Basil's receipt, that 'what is worth taking is worth keeping.' Madame +Hamelin lost her shawl, and had, as a sole consolation, the petty +vengeance of relating to everybody how it was taken, and of pointing +out the thief, who was in the meanwhile perfectly shameless." [Footnote: +Abrantes, "Memoires," vol. ix., pp. 70-76.] + +No one, however, had a larger and more choice selection of these +cashmere shawls than Josephine. Mdlle. Ducrest relates that the deceased +empress had more than one hundred and fifty of the most magnificent and +costly cashmere shawls. She had sent to Constantinople patterns from +which she had them made there, as pleasing to the eye as they were +costly and precious. Every week M. Lenormant, the first man-milliner +in Paris, came to Navarra, the country residence of the empress, +and brought his most beautiful shawls for her selection. The empress +possessed several (having a white ground covered with roses, violets, +paroquets, peacocks, and other objects of beauty hitherto unknown in +France) each of which cost from fifteen to twenty thousand francs. + +The empress went so far in her passion for cashmeres as to have dresses +made of the same material. One day she had put on one of these dresses, +which was so beautiful, that some gentlemen invited to dinner could not +withhold their admiration. One of them, Count Pourtales, thought that +this splendid material would be well adapted for a gentleman's vest. +Josephine, in her large-heartedness, had a pair of scissors brought; she +then cut her dress into several pieces sufficiently large for a vest, +and divided them among the gentlemen present, so that only the bodice +of the dress remained, with a small piece around the waist But this +improvised spencer over the white richly-embroidered under-dress, was so +exceedingly becoming to the empress, and brought out so exquisitely her +beautiful bust, and slender graceful waist, that it would have been +easy to consider as a piece of coquetry what was simply Josephine's +spontaneous generosity. [Footnote: Mademoiselle Ducrest.] + +Josephine, however, did not so assiduously attend to her cashmere shawls +as to forget the unfortunate victims of the infernal machine. On the +contrary, she saw with deep pain how every one was busy in inculpating +others, and in casting suspicions on royalists and Jacobins, so as to +give a pretext to punish them. She noticed that all those who wished to +gain the consul's favor were zealous in spying out fresh culprits, for +it was well known that Bonaparte was inclined to make of all hostile +parties a terrible example, so that, through the severity of the +punishment and the number of the punished, he might deter the +dissatisfied from any further plots. + +Josephine's compassionate heart was distressed, through sympathy for so +many unfortunate persons, whom wicked men maliciously were endeavoring +to drag into guilt, so as to have them punished; and the injustice which +the judges manifested at every hearing filled her with anger and +horror. Ever ready to help the needy, and to protect the persecuted, she +addressed herself to Fouche, the minister of police, and requested him +to use mildness and compassion. She wrote to him: + +"Citizen minister, while trembling at the frightful calamity which has +taken place, I feel uneasy and pained at the fear of the punishments +which hang over the poor creatures who, I am told, belong to families +with which I have been connected in days past. I shall therefore be +appealed to by mothers, sisters, and despairing wives; my heart will be +lacerated by the sad consciousness that I cannot obtain pardon for all +those who implore it. + +"The generosity of the consul is great, his affection for me is +boundless, I know it well; but the crime is of so awful a nature that +he will deem it necessary to make an example of extreme severity. The +supreme magistrate was not alone exposed to danger--many others were +killed and wounded by this sad event, and it is this which will make the +consul severe and implacable. + +"I conjure you, then, citizen minister, to avoid extending your +researches too far, and not always to spy out new persons who might be +compromised by this horrible machine. Must France, which has been held +in terror by so many executions, have to sigh over new victims? Is +it not much more important to appease the minds of the people than to +excite them by new terrors? Finally, would it not be advisable, so soon +as the originators of this awful crime are captured, to have compassion +and mercy upon subordinate persons who may have been entangled in it +through dangerous sophisms and fanatical sentiments? + +"Barely vested with the supreme authority, ought not the first consul +study to win the hearts rather than to make slaves of his people? +Moderate, therefore, by your advice, where in his first excitement he +may be too severe. To punish is, alas, too often necessary! To pardon +is, I trust, still more. In a word, be a protector to the unfortunate +who, through their confession or repentance, have already made in part +penance for their guilt. + +"As I myself, without any fault on my part, nearly lost my life in the +revolution, you can easily understand that I take an interest in those +who can perhaps be saved without thereby endangering my husband's life, +which is so precious to me and to France. I therefore earnestly desire +that you will make a distinction between the leaders of this conspiracy +and those who, from fear or weakness, have been seduced into bringing +upon themselves a portion of the guilt. As a woman, a wife, a mother, +I can readily feel for all the heart-rending agonies of those families +which appeal to me. + +"Do what you possibly can, citizen minister, to diminish their numbers; +you will thereby spare me much anxiety. I can never be deaf to the cries +of distress from the needy; but in this matter you can do a great +deal more than I can, and therefore pardon what may seem strange in my +pleadings with you. + +"Believe in my gratitude and loyalty of sentiment. + +"JOSEPHINE." [Footnote: Ducrest, "Memoires," vol. iii., p. 231.] + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. MALMAISON. + + +In the Tuileries the first consul, with his wife, resided in all the +pomp and dignity of his new office. There he was the sovereign, the +commander; there he ruled, and, like a king, all bowed to him; the +people humbled themselves and recognized him as their master. + +In the Tuileries etiquette and the stiff pomp of a princely court +prevailed more and more. Bonaparte required of his wife that she should +there represent the dignity and the grandeur of her new position; +that she should appear as the first, the most exalted, and the most +unapproachable of women. In the Tuileries there were no more evenings +of pleasant social gatherings, of joyous conversation with friends whom +affection made equals, and who, in love and admiration, recognizing +Bonaparte's ascendency, brought him of their own free choice their +esteem and high consideration. Now, it was all honor and duty; now, +the friends of the past wore servants who, for duty's sake, had to +be subservient to their master, and abide by the rules of etiquette, +otherwise the frown on their lofty ruler's brow would bring them back +within their bounds. + +Josephine was pained at these limits set to her personal freedom--at +these claims of etiquette, which did not permit her friends to remain at +her side, but strove to exalt above them the wife of the first consul. +Her sense of modesty ever accepted the pleasant, genial household +affections as more agreeable and more precious than the burdensome +representations, levees, and the tediousness of ceremonial receptions; +her sense of modesty longed for the quiet and repose of retirement, and +she was happy when, at the close of the court festivities, she could +return to Malmaison, there to enjoy the coming of spring, the blossoming +of summer, and the glorious beauty of autumn with its manifold colors. + +In Malmaison were centered all her joys and pleasures. There she could +satisfy all the inclinations of her heart, all the fancies of her +imagination, all the wants of her mind; there she could be the tender +wife and mother, and the faithful friend; there she could receive, +without the annoyance of etiquette, men of learning and art; there she +could cultivate the soil and devote herself to botany, her favorite +study, and to her flowers, the dearest and most faithful friends of her +whole life. + +Josephine sought for and found in Malmaison her earthly paradise; there +she was happy, and the care and the secret anguish which in Paris wove +around her heart its network, and every now and then whispered the +nefarious words of divorce and separation, followed her not in the +beautiful and friendly Malmaison; she left all this in Paris with the +stiff Madame Etiquette, who once in the Tuileries had poisoned the +existence of the Queen Marie Antoinette, and now sought to intrude +herself upon the consulate as an ill-tempered sovereign. + +But in Malmaison there was no etiquette, none of the dignified coldness +of court-life. There you were allowed to laugh, to jest, and to be +happy. In Malmaison the first consul laid aside his gravity; there his +gloomy brow brightened, and he became again General Bonaparte, the +lover of his Josephine, the confidential companion of his friends, the +harmless individual, who seemed to have nothing to require from Heaven +but the happiness of the passing hour, and who could laugh at a joke +with the same guilelessuess as any other child of the people who never +deemed it necessary to cultivate a close intimacy with the grave and +gloomy Madame Politique. + +It is true Malmaison was not Bonaparte's sole country residence. The +city of Paris had presented him with the pleasure-castle of St. Cloud, +the same which Louis XVI. gave to his wife, and where, to the very great +annoyance of the proud Parisians, she had for the first time engraven +on the regulation-tablets, at the entrance of the park, the fatal +words--"De par la Reine." + +Now this royal mansion of pleasure belonged to the first consul of +the republic; it was his summer residence, but there he was still the +consul, the first magistrate, and the representative of France; and +he had there to give receptions, hold levees, receive the ministers, +councillors of state, and the foreign ambassadors, and appear in all the +pomp and circumstance of his position. + +But in Malmaison his countenance and his being were changed. Here he was +the cheerful man, enjoying life; he was the joyous companion, the modest +land-owner, who with genial delight surveyed the produce of his soil, +and even calculated how much profit it could bring him. + +"The first consul in Malmaison," said the English minister, Fox, "the +first consul in St. Cloud, and the first consul in the Tuileries, are +three different persons, who together form that great and wonderful +idea; I should exceedingly like to be able to represent exactly after +nature these three portraits; they must be very much alike, and yet very +different." + +It is certain, however, that of these three portraits that of the first +consul in Malmaison was the most amiable, and that of the first consul +of the Tuileries the most imposing. + +In Malmaison Bonaparte's countenance was cheerful and free from care; +in the Tuileries he was grave and dignified. On his clouded brow were +enthroned great designs; from the deep, dark eyes shot lightnings ready +to fire a world--to erect or destroy kingdoms. In Malmaison these eyes +with cheerful brilliancy reposed on Josephine; his otherwise earnest +lips welcomed there the beloved of his heart with merry pleasantry and +spirited raillery; there he loved to see Josephine in simple, modest +toilet; and if in the lofty halls of the Tuileries he exacted from the +wife of the first consul a brilliant toilet, the bejewelled magnificence +of the first lady of France, he was delighted when in Malmaison he saw +coming through the green foliage the wife of General Bonaparte in simple +white muslin, with a laughing countenance; and with her sweet voice, +which he still considered as the finest music he ever heard, she bade +welcome to her husband who here was changed into her tender lover. + +In Malmaison, Bonaparte would even put off his general's uniform, +and, in his plain gray coat of a soldier, walk through the park in the +neighborhood, resting on the arm of his confidant, Duroc, and would +begin a friendly conversation with the first farmer he met, perfectly +satisfied when in the little man with the gray tightly-buttoned coat, no +one suspected or imagined to see the first consul of the republic. + +Every Saturday the first consul hastened to the chateau to pass there, +as he said, his Sunday, his day of rest; and only on Monday morning did +he return to Paris, "to take up his chain again." + +How genial and happy were these days of rest! How eagerly did Josephine +labor to make them days of felicity for Bonaparte! how ingenious to +prepare for him new festivities and new surprises! and how her eyes +brightened when she had succeeded in making Bonaparte joyous and +contented! + +If the weather was favorable, the whole company in Malmaison, the young +generals, with their beautiful, young, and lively wives, who surrounded +Bonaparte and Josephine, and of whom a great number belonged to their +family, made promenades through the park, then they seated themselves on +a fine spot to repeat stories or to indulge in harmless sociable games, +in which Bonaparte with the most cheerful alacrity took part. Even +down to the game of "catch" and to that of "room-renting" did Bonaparte +condescend to play; and as Marie Antoinette with her husband and her +court played at blindman's-buff in the gardens of Trianon, so Bonaparte +was pleased on the lawns of Malmaison to play at "room-renting." + +How often after a dark, cloudy morning, when suddenly at noon the skies +would become clear and the sunshine break through the clouds, would +Bonaparte's countenance gladden with all the spirit of a school-boy, in +the midst of holidays, and, throwing off his coat, laughingly exclaim, +"Now come, one and all, and let us rent the room!" + +And then on the large, open lawn, surrounded on all sides by tall trees, +the first consul with his wife, his generals and their young wives, +would begin the exhilarating, harmless child's-play, forgetful of all +care, void of all fear, except that he should lose his tree, and that as +a penniless individual having to rent a room he would have to stand in +the centre before all eyes, just as first consul he stood before all +eyes in the centre of France, and struggled for a place the importance +and title of which were known only to his silent soul. But in Malmaison, +at the game of "room to let," Bonaparte had no remembrance whatever of +the ambitious wishes of the first consul; the whole world seemed to have +set, the memories of his youth passed before his eyes in such beauty, +saluting him with the gracious looks of childhood, as nearly to make him +an enthusiast. + +How often, when on Josephine's arm, surrounded by a laughing, noisy +group of friends, and walking through shady paths, on hearing the bells +of the neighboring village chime their vespers, would Bonaparte suddenly +interrupt the conversation and stand still to hear them! With a motion +of the hand he would command silence, while he listened with a smile of +grief to sounds which recalled days long gone by. "These bells remind me +of the days of my boyhood," said he to Josephine; "it seems to me, when +I hear them, that I am still in Brienne." + +To keep alive the memories of his school-days in Brienne, he sent for +one of his teachers, the Abbe Dupuis, who had been remarkably kind to +him, and invited him to Malmaison, to arrange there a library, and to +take charge of it; he sent also for the porter of Brienne whose wife he +had so severely prohibited from entering the theatre, and made him the +porter of the chateau. + +In bad weather and on rainy days the whole company gathered in the large +drawing-room, and found amusement in playing the various games of cards, +in which Bonaparte not only took much interest, but in which he so +eagerly played, that he often had recourse to apparent bungling, so as +to command success. Adjoining the drawing-room, where conversation and +amusements took place, was a room where the company sang and practised +music, to the delight of Bonaparte, who often, when one of his favorite +tunes was played, would chime in vigorously with the melody, nowise +disturbed by the fact that he never could catch the right tune, and that +he broke out every time into distressing discordance! + +But all songs and music subsided, all plays were interrupted, when +Bonaparte, excited perhaps by the approaching twilight, or by some +awakened memory, began to relate one of those tragic, fearful stories +which no one could tell so well as he. Then, with arms folded behind his +back, he slowly paced the drawing-room, and with sinister looks, tragic +manner, and sepulchral voice, he would begin the solemn introduction of +his narrative: + +"When death strikes, at a distance, a person whom we love," said he, +one evening, with a voice tremulous with horror, "a certain foreboding +nearly always makes us anticipate the event, and the person, touched by +the hand of death, appears to us at the moment we lose him on earth." + +"How very sad and mournful that sounds!" sighed Josephine, as she placed +both her arms on Bonaparte's shoulder, as if she would hold him, and +chain him to earth, that he might not vanish away with every ghost-like +form. + +Bonaparte turned to her with a genial smile, and shook his head at her, +so as to assure her of his existence and his love. Then he began his +story with all the earnestness and tragic power of an improvisator +of ancient Rome. He told how once Louis XIV., in the great gallery of +Versailles, received the bulletin of the battle of Friedlingen, and how, +unfolding it, he read to the assembled court the names of the slain and +of the wounded. Quietness reigned in the splendidly-illumined gallery; +and the courtiers in their embroidered coats, who, ordinarily, were +so full of merriment and so high-spirited, had, all at once, become +thoughtful. They gathered in a circle around the monarch, from whose +lips slowly, like falling tears, fell one by one the names of the +killed. Here and there the cheeks of their relatives turned pale. +Suddenly the Count de Beaugre saw appear, at the farther end of the +gallery, stately and ghost-like, the blood-stained figure of his son, +who, with eyes wide open, stared at his father, and saluted him with a +slight motion of the head, and then glided away through the door. "My +son is dead!" cried Count de Beaugre--and, at the very same moment, +the king uttered his name as one of the slain!" [Footnote: Bourrienne, +"Memoires," vol. iii., p. 225.] + +"Ah! may I never see such a ghost-like figure," murmured Josephine, +drawing closer to her husband. "Bonaparte, promise me that you will +never go to war again; that you will keep peace with all the world, so +that I may have no cause of alarm!" + +"And to tremble at my ghost," exclaimed Bonaparte, laughing. "Look at +this selfish woman, she does not wish me a hero's death, lest I should +appear to her here in the shape of a bloody placard!" + +With her small bejewelled hand Josephine closed his mouth, and ordered +lights to be brought; she asked Lavalette to play a lively dancing-tune, +and cried out to the joyous youthful group, at the head of whom were +Hortense and Eugene, to fall in for a dance. + +"Nothing more charming," writes the Duchess d'Abrantes, "could be seen +than a ball in Malmaison, made up as it was of the young ladies whom the +military family of the first consul brought together, and who, without +having the name of it, formed the court of Madame Bonaparte. They were +all young, many of them very beautiful; and when this lovely group were +dressed in white crape, adorned with flowers, their heads crowned with +wreaths as fresh as the hues of their young, laughing, charming faces, +it was indeed a bewitching sight to witness the animated and lively +dance in these halls, through which walked the first consul, surrounded +by the men with whom he discussed and decided the destinies of Europe." +[Footnote: Abrantes, "Memoires," vol. iii., p. 329.] + +But the best and most exciting amusement in Malmaison was the theatre; +and nothing delighted Bonaparte so much as this, where the young troop +of lovers in the palace performed little operas and vaudevilles, +and went through their parts with all the eagerness of real actors, +perfectly happy in having the consul and his wife for audience. In +Malmaison, Bonaparte abandoned himself with boundless joy to his +fondness for the theatre; here he applauded with all the gusto of an +amateur, laughed with the laisser-aller of a college-boy at the harmless +jokes of the vaudevilles, and here also he took great pleasure in the +dramatic performances of Eugene, who excelled especially in comic roles. + +Bonaparte had a most convenient stage constructed in Malmaison for his +actors; he had the most beautiful costumes made for each new piece, and +the actors Talma and Michet had to come every week to the chateau, to +give the young people instruction in their parts. The ordinary actors +of this theatre in the castle were Eugene and Hortense, Caroline Murat, +Lauriston, M. Didelot, the prefect of the palace, some of the officers +attached to the establishment, and the Count Bourrienne, the friend of +Bonaparte's youth, who now had become the first secretary of the consul. +The pieces which Bonaparte attended with the greatest pleasure were the +"Barber of Seville," and "Mistrust and Malice." The young and amiable +Hortense made an excellent Rosine in the "Barber of Seville," and +Bonaparte never failed to clap his hands in hearty applause to Hortense, +when Josephine with cheerful smiles would thank him, for she seemed as +proud of her daughter's talent as of her husband's applause. + +Bourrienne, in his memoirs, gives a faithful description of those +evening theatrical performances, and of the happy life enjoyed in +Malmaison; he lingers with a sober joy over those beautiful and innocent +memories of other days. + +"Bonaparte," says he, "found great pleasure in our dramatic +entertainments; he loved to see comedies represented by those who +surrounded him, and oftentimes paid us flattering compliments. Though it +amused me as much as it did the others, yet I was more than once obliged +to call Bonaparte's attention to the fact that my other occupations did +not give me time enough to learn my parts. He then, in his flattering +way, said: 'Ah, Bourrienne, let me alone. You have so excellent a +memory! You know that this is an amusement to me! You see that these +performances enliven Malmaison and make it cheerful! Josephine is so +fond of them! Rise a little earlier!' + +"'It is a fact--I sleep a great deal!' + +"'Allons, Bourrienne, do it to please me; you do make me laugh so +heartily! Deprive me not of this pleasure. You know well that otherwise +I have but few recreations.' + +"'Ah, parbleu! I will not deprive you of it. I am happy to be able to +contribute something to your amusement.' Consequently I rose earlier, to +learn my parts. + +"On the theatre days the company at Malmaison was always very large. +After the performance a brilliant crowd undulated like waves in the +halls of the first story. The most animated and varied conversation took +place, and I can truly affirm that cheerfulness and sincerity were the +life of those conversations, and their principal charm. Refreshments of +all kinds were distributed, and Josephine performed the honors of those +gatherings with so much amiableness and complacency that each one might +believe she busied herself more with him than with any one else. At the +end of the delightful soirees, which generally closed after midnight, +we returned to Paris, where the cares of life awaited us." [Footnote: +Bourrienne, "Memoires," vol. v., p. 26.] + +Time was spent not only in festivities and amusements at Malmaison, but +sciences and arts also formed there a serious occupation, and it was +Josephine who was the prime mover. She invited to the chateau painters, +sculptors, musicians, architects, and savants of every profession, and +thus to the Graces she added the Arts for companions. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. FLOWERS AND MUSIC. + + +Above all things, Josephine, in her retreat, devoted her time and +leisure hours to botany and to her dear flowers. Alexander Lenoir, the +famous architect of that day, had to assist her in enlarging the little +castle of Malinaison, and to open more suitable halls for the arts +and sciences. Under Josephine's direction there arose the splendid +library-room resting upon columns; it was Josephine who had the +beautiful gallery of paintings constructed, and also with remarkable +judgment purchased a selection of the finest paintings of the great +masters to adorn this gallery. Besides which, she gave to living +painters orders of importance, and encouraged them to originate new +pieces, that art itself might have a part in the new era of peace and +prosperity, which, under the consulate, seemed to spread over France. + +Alongside of the paintings Josephine adorned this gallery with the +finest antique statues, with a collection of the rarest painted vases +of Pompeii, and with ten paintings on cement, memorials of Grecian art, +representing the nine Muses and Apollo Mersagetos. These last splendid +subjects were a present which the King of Naples had given to Josephine +during her residence in Italy. Always attentive not only to promote the +arts, but also to help the artists and to increase their reputation, +Josephine would buy some new pieces of sculpture, and give them a +place in Malmaison. The two most exquisite masterpieces of Canova, "The +Dancing-Girl" and "Paris," were purchased by Josephine at an enormous +price for her gallery, whose chief ornament they were. + +Her fondness for flowers was such that she spared neither expense +nor labor to procure those worthy of Malmaison. She caused also large +green-houses and hot-houses to be constructed, the latter suited to +the culture of the pineapple and of the peach. In the green-houses were +found flowers and plants of every zone, and of all countries. People, +knowing her taste for botany, sent her from the most remote places the +choicest plants. Even the prince regent of England, the most violent +and bitter enemy of the first consul, had high esteem for this taste of +Josephine; and during the war, when some French ships, captured by the +English, were found to have on board a collection of tropical plants for +her, he had them carried with all dispatch to Madame Bonaparte. + +Josephine had a lofty aim: she wanted to gather into her hot-houses all +the species and families, all the varieties of the tropical plants, +and she strove to accomplish this with a perseverance, a zeal, and an +earnestness of which no one would have thought her indolent, soft Creole +nature capable. To increase her precious collection, she spared neither +money nor time, neither supplications nor efforts. All travellers, all +seafaring men, who came into her drawing-room were entreated to send +plants to Malmaison; and even the secretary of the navy did not fail +to give instructions to the captains of vessels sailing to far-distant +lands to bring back plants for the wife of the first consul. If it were +a matter of purchase, nothing was too expensive, and when, through her +fondness for beautiful objects, Josephine's purse was exhausted, and her +means curtailed, she sooner gave up the purchase of a beautiful ornament +than that of a rare plant. + +The hot-houses of Malmaison caused, therefore, a considerable increase +in her expenses, and were a heavy burden to her treasury; and for their +sake, when the day of payment came, Josephine had to receive from her +husband many severe reproaches, and was forced to shed many a bitter +tear. But this, perhaps, made them still dearer; no sooner were the +tears dried up and the expenses covered, than Josephine again abandoned +herself with renewed zeal to her passion for collecting plants and +costly studies in botany, especially since she had succeeded in winning +to her person the renowned botanist and learned Bonpland, and in having +him appointed superintendent of her gardens and hot-houses. It was +Bonpland who cultivated Josephine's inclination for botany, and exalted +her passion into a science. He filled the green-houses of Malmaison +with the rarest plants, and taught Josephine at the same time their +classifications and sexes, and she quickly proved herself to be a +zealous and tractable pupil. She soon learned the names of the plants, +as well as their family names, as classified by the naturalists; she +became acquainted with their origin and their virtues, and was extremely +sad and dejected when, in one of her families, a single species was +wanting. But what a joy when this gap was filled! No price was too +exorbitant, then, to procure the missing species; and one day she paid +for a small, insignificant plant from Chili the high price of three +thousand francs, filling Bonpland with ecstasy, but the emperor with +deep wrath as soon as he heard it. [Footnote: Avrillon, "Memoires sur +l'Imperatrice Josephine."] + +Next to botany, it was music which Josephine delighted in and +cultivated. Since the cares and the numerous relations of her +diversified life claimed so much of her time, she had abandoned the +exercises of music; and it was only at the hour of unusual serenity of +mind, or of more lively recollections of the past, that she was +heard singing softly one of the songs of her own native isle, even as +Bonaparte himself, when he was meditating and deciding about some new +campaign, would betray the drift of his thoughts by singing louder and +louder the favorite melody of the day, Marlborough s'en va-t-en guerre. +But Josephine had the satisfaction that Hortense was not only an +excellent performer on the piano and the harp, but that she could also +write original compositions, whose softness and harmonious combinations +made them popular throughout France. Another satisfaction was, that +Eugene sang, in a fine clear voice, with great talent, and that +frequently he would by his excellent singing draw even the first consul +into loud expressions of admiration. + +Bonaparte was not easily satisfied as regards singing; it was seldom +that music elicited any commendation from him. The Italian music alone +could excite his enthusiasm, and through its impassioned fervor rouse +him up, or its humorous passages enliven him. Therefore Bonaparte, when +consul or emperor, always patronized the Italian music in preference to +any other, and he constantly and publicly expressed this liking, without +considering how much he might thereby wound the French artistes in their +ambition and love of fame. He therefore appointed an Italian to be first +singer at the opera. It is true this was Maestro Paesiello, whose operas +were then making their way through Europe, and everywhere meeting with +approbation. Bonaparte also was extremely fond of them, and at every +opportunity he manifested to the maestro his good-will and approbation. +But one day this commendation of Paesiello was changed to the most +stinging censure. It was on the occasion of the first representation +of Paesiello's Zingari in Fiera. The first consul and his wife were in +their loge, and to show to the public how much he honored and esteemed +the composer, he had invited Paesiello to attend the performance in his +loge. + +Bonaparte followed the performance with the most enthusiastic +demonstrations of gratification; he heartily applauded each part, and +paid to Paesiello compliments which were the more flattering since every +one knew that the lips which uttered them were not profuse in their use. +A tenor part had just ended, and its effect had been remarkable. The +audience was full of enthusiasm. Bonaparte, who by his hearty applause +had given the signal to a storm of cheers, turned toward Paesiello, and, +offering him his hand, exclaimed: + +"Truly, my dear friend, the man who has composed this melody can boast +of being the first composer in Europe!" + +Paesiello became pale, his whole body trembled, and, with stammering +voice, he said: + +"General, this melody is from Cimarosa. I have placed it in my opera +merely to please the singers." + +The first consul shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am sorry, my dear sir," said he, "but I cannot recall what I have +said." + +The next day, however, he sent to the composer of the opera, as an +acknowledgment of his esteem, a magnificent present, with which he +no doubt wished to heal the pain which he had unwittingly caused the +maestro. But Paesiello possessed a temper easily wounded, and the more +so since he considered himself as the first and greatest composer in +the world, and was sincere in the opinion that others could compose good +music, but that his alone was grand and distinguished. + +Bonaparte's present could not, therefore, heal the wound which the +praise of Cimarosa's melody had inflicted, and this wound was soon to +be probed deeper, and become fatal to Paesiello. Another new opera from +Paesiello, Proserpina, was to be represented. The first consul, who was +anxious to secure for his protege a brilliant success, had given +orders to bring it out in the most splendid style; the most beautiful +decorations and the richest costumes had been provided, and a stage +erected for a ballet, on which the favorite ballet-leaders of Paris were +to practise their art. + +The mighty first consul was, on the evening of the first performance of +the opera of Proserpina, to learn the lesson, that there exists a power +which will not be bound in fetters, and which is stronger and more +influential than the dictates of the mighty--the power of public +opinion. This stood in direct opposition to the first consul, by the +voiceless, cold silence with which it received Paesiello's piece. +Bonaparte might applaud as heartily as he pleased, and that might +elicit an echo from the group of his favorites, but the public +remained unmoved, and Bonaparte had the humiliation to see this opera, +notwithstanding his approbation, prove a complete failure. He felt as +nervous and excited as the composer himself, for he declared loudly +and angrily that the French knew nothing about music, and that it was +necessary to teach them that the Italians alone understood the art of +composition. + +To teach this to the French the opera of Proserpina was to be repeated +until the mind of the public should have been educated to its beauty, +and they had been forced to acknowledge it. A decided warfare ensued +between this opera and the public, each party being determined to +have its own way; the authorities persevered in having the performance +repeated, and the public kept away from it with equal obstinacy. The +latter, however, had the advantage in this case, for they could not be +forced to attend where they were unwilling to go, and so they won the +victory, and the authorities had to yield. + +Paesiello, touched to the quick by the failure of Proserpina, resigned +his position as leader, and left Paris to return to Italy. The question +now was, how to fill this important and honorable position. The +Parisians were excited about this nomination, and divided into two +parties, each of which defended its candidate with the greatest zeal, +and maintained that he would be the one who would receive Bonaparte's +appointment. The candidates of these two parties were the Frenchman +Mehul and the Italian Cherubini. Those who formed the party of Cherubini +calculated especially on Bonaparte's well-known preference for Italian +music. They knew that, though he was much attached to Mehul, whom he had +known before the expedition to Egypt, and had shown him many favors, yet +he had often expressed his contempt for French music, and was committed +against him by the very fact of his maintaining that the Italians alone +understood the art of musical composition. + +Mehul had for a long time endured in silence the criticisms of +Bonaparte; he had patiently returned no answer when he repeated to him: +"Science, and only science--that is all the French musicians understand; +my dear sir, grace, melody, and joyousness, are unknown to you Frenchmen +and to the Germans; the Italians alone are masters here." + +One day Mehul, having become tired of these constant discouraging +remarks, resolved to let the first consul, who so often gave him bitter +pills to swallow, have a taste of them himself. + +He went, therefore, to his friend, the poet Marsollier, and begged him +to write an extremely lively and extravagant piece, whose design +would be absurd enough to make it pass as the work of some Italian +pamphlet-writer, and at the same time he enjoined the most profound +secrecy. + +Marsollier complied willingly with the wishes of his friend, and after +a few days he brought him the text for the small opera Irato. With the +same alacrity did Mehul sit down to the task of composing, and when the +work was done, Marsollier went to the committee of the comic opera to +tell them he had just received from Italy a score whose music was +so extraordinary that he was fully convinced of its success, and +had therefore been to the trouble, notwithstanding the weakness and +foolishness of the libretto, to translate the text into French. The +committee tried the score, was enchanted with the music, and was fully +convinced of the brilliant success of the little opera, inasmuch as the +strange and lively text was well adapted to excite the hilarity and the +merriment of the public. The first singers of the opera were rivals for +the parts; all the newspapers published the pompous advertisement that +in a short time would be performed at the Opera Comique a charming, +entrancing opera, the maiden piece of a young Italian. + +Finally its first performance was announced; the first consul declared +that he and his wife would attend, and he invited Mehul, whom he liked +to tease and worry, because he loved him from his heart, to attend the +performance in his loge. + +"It will undoubtedly be a mortification to you, my poor friend," said +he, laughing; "but perhaps when you hear this enchanting music, so +different from that of the French, you will imitate it, and cease +composing." + +Mehul replied with a bow; he then began to excuse himself from +accompanying the first consul to the theatre; and it was only after +Bonaparte and Josephine had pressed him very much, that he accepted the +invitation, and went with them to their loge. + +The opera began, and, immediately after the first melody, Bonaparte +applauded and expressed his admiration. There never had been any +thing more charming--never had the French written music with so much +freshness, elegance, or so naturally. Bonaparte continued his praise, +and often-times repeated: "It is certain there is nothing superior to +Italian music." + +At last the opera ended amid a real storm of applause; and, with their +enthusiasm at the highest pitch, the audience claimed to know the names +of the poet and of the composer. After a long pause the curtain rose and +the registrar appeared; he made the three customary bows, and in a loud +voice named Marsollier as the author and Mehul as the composer of the +opera Irato. + +The audience received this news with an unceasing storm of applause. +They, like the consul and the singers who had taken part in the opera, +knew nothing of the mystification, so well had the secret been kept. + +Josephine turned smilingly to Bonaparte, and with her own charming grace +offered her hand to Mehul and thanked him for the twofold enjoyment he +had that day prepared for her, by furnishing her his entrancing opera, +and by having prepared a little defeat of Bonaparte, that traitor to his +country, who dared prefer the Italian music to the French. + +Bonaparte himself looked at the affair on its bright side; he had +enjoyed the opera; he had laughed; he was satisfied, and consequently he +overlooked the deceitful surprise. + +"Conquer me always in this manner!" said he, laughing, to Mehul, "and I +shall enjoy both your fame and my amusement." + +The friends of Cherubini thought of this little event when the question +arose as to the appointment to the situation of first singer at the +Grand Opera, and they therefore did not hesitate to wager that Cherubini +would be appointed, since he was an Italian. + +But they knew not that Bonaparte had pardoned Mehul, and frequently +joked with him, whilst he ever grumbled at Cherubini on account of an +expression which the latter had once allowed himself to use against +General Bonaparte. + +Bonaparte had conversed with Cherubini after a representation of one of +his operas, and, while he congratulated him, he however added that this +opera did not please him as much as the other pieces of Cherubini--that +he thought it somewhat sober and scientific, and that he missed in +it the accustomed richness of the maestro's melodies. This criticism +wounded Cherubini as if pierced by a dagger, and with the irritable +vehemence of an Italian he replied: + +"General, busy yourself in winning battles--that is your trade; but +leave me to practise mine, about which you know nothing." + +The Consul Bonaparte had neither forgotten nor pardoned Cherubini's +answer; and, despite his fondness for Italian music, he was resolved to +give to Mehul the position vacated by Paesiello. + +Josephine approved entirely of this choice, and, in order to witness +Mehul's joy, she invited him to Malmaison, that the consul might +there inform him of his appointment. How great, however, was her and +Bonaparte's surprise, when Mehul, instead of being delighted with this +distinguished appointment, positively refused to accept it! + +"I can accept this position only under one condition," said Mehul, +"which is, that I may be allowed to divide it with my friend Cherubini." + +"Do not speak to me about him," exclaimed Bonaparte, with animation; "he +is a coarse man, and I cannot tolerate him." + +"He may have had the misfortune to displease you," replied Mehul, +eagerly, "but he is a master to us all, and especially as regards sacred +music. He now is in a very inferior position; he has a large family, and +I sincerely desire to reconcile him to you." + +"I repeat to you that I do not wish to know any thing about him." + +"In that case I must decline the position," said Mehul, gravely, +"and nothing will alter my resolution. I am a member of the +Institute--Cherubini is not; I do not wish it to be said that I +have misused the good-will with which you honor me for the sake of +confiscating to my profit every situation, and of despoiling a man of +reputation of the reward to which he is most justly entitled." + +And Mehul, notwithstanding Josephine's intercession and Bonaparte's +ill-will, remained firm in his decision; he would not accept the +honorable and distinguished position of first singer at the Grand Opera; +and Bonaparte, after expressing his determination, would not change it. +Neither would he confer upon Cherubini the honor refused by Mehnl. He +therefore commissioned Josephine to name a successor to Paesiello; and +she went to Madame de Montesson, to confer with her on the matter. + +Madame de Montesson could suggest no definite plan, but she told +Josephine of a French composer, of the name of Lesueur, who, +notwithstanding his great talents, lived in his native city of Paris +poor and unknown, and who had not succeeded in having his opera, "The +Bards," represented at the Grand Opera, simply on the ground that he +was a Frenchman, and that every one knew Bonaparte's strange aversion to +French music. + +Josephine's generous heart at once took sides with Lesueur; her +exquisite tact taught her that the public ought to know that the first +consul would not consult his own personal gratification, when the +question was to render justice to a Frenchman. She therefore recommended +to her husband, with all her ability, the poor composer Lesueur, who was +unknown to fame, and lost in obscurity; she represented his appointment +as such an act of generosity and of policy, that Bonaparte acceded to +her wishes at once, and appointed Lesueur to the office of first master +of the Grand Opera. + +And Josephine had the pleasure of seeing that the new opera-leader +justified her expectations. His opera, "The Bards," was naturally +brought into requisition; it had a brilliant and unexampled success, +and even Bonaparte, at the first representation, forgot his prejudices +against French music, and applauded quite as heartily as if it had been +Italian. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. PRELUDE TO THE EMPIRE. + + +The sun of happiness which for Josephine seemed to shine so brightly +over Malmaison, had nevertheless its long shadows and its dark specks; +even her gracious countenance was obscured, her heart filled with +sad forebodings, and her bosom stung as if by scorpions hidden under +flowers. + +Josephine had in her immediate circle violent and bitter enemies, who +were ever busy in undermining the influence which she possessed over her +husband, to steal from his heart the love he cherished for her, and to +remove from his side the woman who, by her presence, kept them in the +shade, and who wielded or destroyed the influence which they desired to +have over him. + +These enemies were the brothers and especially the sisters of +Bonaparte. Among the brothers of the first consul, Lucien showed to his +sister-in-law the most violent and irreconcilable enmity. He left no +means untried to do her injury, and to convert her into an object of +suspicion, and this because he was convinced that Josephine was the +prime cause of the hostile sentiments of Napoleon against him, and +because he believed that, Josephine once out of the way, Napoleon's +ear would be open to conviction, and that he, Lucien, the most powerful +citizen, next to his brother, would be the second "first consul." He +was not aware that Napoleon's keen eagle eye had fathomed his ambitious +heart; that he was the one who kept Lucien away, because he mistrusted +him, because he feared his ambition, and even looked upon him as capable +of the bold design of casting Napoleon aside, and setting himself up +in his place. Lucien was unaware of the influence which Josephine +frequently exerted over the mind of the first consul, in favor of +himself; that it was she who had pacified Napoleon's anger at Lucien's +marriage, contracted without his consent, and prevented him from +annulling it violently. The other brothers of Napoleon, influenced, +perhaps, by the enmity of Lucien, were also disaffected toward their +sister-in-law, and of them all, only Louis, the youngest, the one who +loved the first consul most tenderly and most sincerely, showed toward +her due respect and affection. + +His three sisters were still more active in their opposition. Constantly +quarrelling among themselves, they, however, united heartily in the +common feeling of hatred to Josephine. It was she who stood in their +way, who every day excited anew their anger by the position she held at +Napoleon's side, and in virtue of which the three sisters were thrust +into the background. Josephine, the wife of the first consul, was the +one to whom France made obeisance, upon whom the ambassadors of foreign +powers first waited, and afterward upon the sisters of the first consul. +It was Josephine who took the precedence in solemn ceremonies, and to +whom, by Bonaparte's commands, they had to manifest respect. And +this woman, who by her eminence placed the sisters of Bonaparte in an +inferior position, was not of nobler or more distinguished blood than +they; she was not young, she was not beautiful, she was not even able to +give birth to a child, for which her husband so intensely longed. + +The three sisters might have been submissive to the daughter of a +prince, they might have conceded to her the right of precedence, but the +widow of the Viscount de Beauharnais was not superior to them in rank +or birth; she was far inferior to them in beauty and youth--and yet they +had to give way to her, and see her take the first place! + +From these sentiments of jealousy and envy sprang the enmity which the +three sisters of Bonaparte, Madame Elise Bacciocchi, Madame Pauline +Borghese, and Madame Caroline Murat, cherished against Josephine, and +which her gentle words and kind heart could never assuage. + +Josephine was in their way--she must therefore fall. Such is the key to +the right understanding of the conduct of the three beautiful sisters +of Napoleon toward the wife of their brother. In their violence they +disregarded all propriety, and shrank from no calumny or malice to +accomplish their ends. It was a constant warfare with intrigues and +malicious suspicions. Every action of Josephine was observed, every step +was watched, in the hope of finding something to render her suspicious +to her husband. On every occasion the three sisters besieged him with +complaints concerning the lofty and proud demeanor of Josephine, and +ridiculed him about his old, childless wife, who stood in the way of +his growing fame! Though Bonaparte in these conflicts always sided with +Josephine against his sisters, yet there probably remained in his heart +a sting from the ridicule which they had directed against him. + +This hostility of the Bonaparte family was not unknown to Josephine; her +soul suffered under these ceaseless attacks, her heart was agonized at +the thought that the efforts of her sisters-in-law might finally succeed +in withdrawing from her the love of her husband. She was persuaded that +even in the Bonaparte family she needed a protector, that she must +look for one among the brothers, so as to counteract the enmity of the +sisters; and she chose for this Louis Bonaparte. She entreated Napoleon +to give to his young, beloved brother the hand of her daughter Hortense. +It would be a new bond chaining Bonaparte to her--a new fortress for +her love--if he would but make her daughter his sister-in-law, and his +brother her son-in-law. + +Napoleon did not oppose her wishes; he consented that Hortense should be +married to his brother. It is true the young people were not consulted; +for the first time, Josephine's selfishness got the better of her love +for her child--she sacrificed the welfare of her daughter to secure her +own happiness. + +But Hortense loved another, yet she yielded to the entreaties and tears +of her mother, and became the wife of this laconic, timid young man, +whose meagre, unpretending appearance resembled so little the ideal +which her maidenly heart had pictured of her future husband. + +Louis on his side had not the slightest inclination for Hortense; he +never would have chosen her for his wife, for their characters were too +different; their inclinations and wishes were not in sympathy with each +other. But through obedience to the wishes of his brother, he accepted +the proffered hand of Josephine's daughter, and became the husband of +the beautiful, blond-haired Hortense de Beauharnais. + +In February, of the year 1802, the marriage of the young couple took +place, and this family event was celebrated with the most magnificent +festivities. Josephine's joy and happiness were complete--she had thrown +a bridge over the abyss, and was now secure against the hostilities of +her sisters-in-law, by giving up her own daughter. + +Every thing was resplendent with beauty and joy at these festivities; +every thing wore an appearance of happiness; only the countenances of +the newly-married couple were grave and sad, and their deep melancholy +contrasted strikingly with the happiness of which they themselves were +the cause. Adorned with diamonds and flowers, Hortense appeared to be a +stranger to all the pomp which surrounded her, and to be occupied only +with her own sad communings. Louis Bonaparte was pale and grave, like +Hortense; he seldom addressed a word to the young wife that the orders +of his brother had given him; and she avoided her husband's looks, +perhaps to hinder him from reading there the indifference and dislike +she felt for him. [Footnote: "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine, la +Cour de Navarre," etc., par Mlle. Ducrest, vol. i., p. 49.] + +But Josephine was happy, for she knew the noble, faithful, and generous +spirit of the man to whom she had given her daughter; and she trusted +that the two young hearts, now that they were linked together, would +soon love one another. She hoped much more from this alliance; she hoped +not only to find in it a shield against domestic animosities, but also +to give to her husband, even if indirectly, the children he so much +desired--for the offspring of his brother and the daughter of his +Josephine would be nearly the same as his own, and they could adopt +and love them as such. This was Josephine's hope, the dream of her +happiness, when she gave her daughter in marriage to the brother of her +husband. + +The fact that the first consul was childless was not only a family +solicitude, it was also a political question. The people themselves had +changed the face of affairs, they had by solemn vote decided to confer +the consulate for life upon Napoleon, who had previously been elected +for ten years only. In other words, the French people had chosen +Bonaparte for their master and ruler, and he now lacked but the title +to be king. Every one felt and knew that this consulate for life was +but the prelude to royalty; that the golden laurel-wreath of the first +consul would soon be converted into a golden crown, so as to secure to +France an enduring peace, and to make firm its political situation. + +With her keen political instinct, Josephine trembled at the thought +that the King or Emperor Bonaparte would have to establish for himself +a dynasty--that he would have to appease the apprehensions of France +by offering to the nation a son who would be his legitimate heir and +successor. Thus was the subject of divorce kept hanging over her head +until the conviction was forced upon her mind that some day Napoleon +would be led into sacrificing his love to politics. Josephine was +conscious of it, and consequently the hopes of Napoleon's future +greatness, which so pleased his brothers and sisters, only made her +sorrowful, and she therefore entreated Bonaparte with tender appeal to +remain content with the high dignity he already possessed, and not to +tempt fate, nor to allow it to bear him up to a dizzy height, from which +the stormy winds of adversity might the more easily prostrate him. + +Bonaparte listened to her with a smile, and generally in silence. Once +only he replied to her: "Has not your prophetess in Martinique told you +that one day you would be more than a queen?" + +"And the prophecy is already realized," exclaimed Josephine. "The wife +of the consul for life is more than a queen, for her husband is the +elect of thirty millions of hearts!" Bonaparte laughed, and said +nothing. + +Another time Josephine asked him--"Now, Bonaparte, when are you going to +make me Empress of the Gauls?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. "What an idea," said he; "the little +Josephine an empress!" + +Josephine answered him with the words of Corneille--"'Le premier qui fut +roi fut un soldat heureux'" (the first king was a successful soldier); +and she added, "The wife of this fortunate soldier shares his rank." + +He placed his small, white hand, adorned with rings, under her chin, and +gazed at her with a deep, strange look. + +"Now, Josephine," said he, after a short pause, "your successful soldier +is only, for the present, consul for life, and you are sharing his rank. +Be careful, then, that the wife of the first consul surrounds herself +with all the brilliancy and the pomp which beseem her dignity. No more +economy, no more modest simplicity! The industry of France is at a low +ebb--we must make it rise. We must give receptions; we must prove to +France that the court of a consul can be as splendid as that of a king. +You understand what pomp is--none better than you! Now show yourself +brilliant, magnificent, so that the other ladies may imitate you. But, +no foreign stuffs! Silk and velvet from the fabrics of Lyons!" + +"Yes," said Josephine, with charming tenderness, "and when afterward my +bills become due, you cut them down--you find them too high." + +"I only cut down what is too exorbitant," said Bonaparte, laughing. "I +have no objection for you to give to the manufacturers any amount +of work and profit, but I do not wish them to cheat you." [Footnote: +Abrantes, "Memoires" vol. iv.] + +Henceforth, the consulate began gradually to exhibit a splendor and pomp +which were behind no princely court, and which relegated, amid the dark +legends of the fabulous past, the fraternity and the equality of the +republic. The absence of pretension, and the simplicity of Malmaison, +were now done away with; everywhere the consul for life was followed by +the splendors of his dignity, and everywhere Josephine was accompanied +by her court. + +For now she had a court, and an anteroom, with all its intrigues and +flatteries; and its conspiracies already wove their chains around the +consul and his wife. It was not suddenly, it was not spontaneously, that +this court of the first consul was formed; two years were required +for its organization--two years of unceasing labor on the new code of +regulations, which etiquette dictated from the remembrances of the past +to the palace-officers of the Consul Bonaparte. "How was this in times +past? What was the practice?" Such were the constant questions in the +interior of the Tuileries, and for the answers they appealed to Madame +de Montesson, to the old courtiers, the servants and adherents of +royalty. Instead of creating every thing new, they turned by degrees +to the usages and manners of the past. Always and in all countries +have there been seen at courts caricatures and persons of ill-mannered +awkwardness; at the opening of the court of the first consul it is +probable that these existed, and appeared still more strange to those +who had been used to the manners, traditions, and language of the +ancient court of Versailles. Their awkwardness, however, was soon +overcome; and Josephine understood so well the rare art of presiding at +a court establishment--she was such an accomplished mistress of refined +manners and of noble deportment--she united to the perfect manners of +the old nobility the most exquisite adroitness, and she knew so well how +to adapt all these advantages to every new circumstance--that soon every +one bowed to her sovereignty and submitted to her laws. + +From the glittering halls of the Tuileries there soon disappeared the +sword and the uniform, to be replaced by the gold-embroidered dress, the +silk stockings, and the chapeau bras; and on the glassy floors of +the Tuileries generals and marshals appeared as fine cavaliers, who, +submitting to the rules of etiquette, left behind with their regiments +the coarse language of the camp. Many of these young generals and heroes +had married the beautiful but impoverished daughters of the +aristocrats of old monarchical France. These young women, who were the +representatives of the ancient noblesse, brought to the Tuileries the +traditions of their mothers, and distinguished themselves by the ease +of their courtly deportment and their graceful manners; and they thus +unconsciously became the teachers of the other young women, who, like +their husbands, owed their aristocratic name only to the sword and to +their fresh laurels, and not to ancient escutcheons. + +In the Tuileries and in St. Cloud there were reception-days, +audience-days, and great and small levees, at which were assembled all +that France possessed of rank, name, and fame, and where the ambassadors +of all the powers accredited at the court of the consul, where all the +higher clergy and the pope's nuncio, appeared in full dress. + +Bonaparte ventured to remove still further from the landmarks of the +revolution, and from its so-called conquests. He restored to France the +church; he reopened the temples of religion, and he also gave back to +the people their priests. + +Just as in the days of old monarchical France, every Sunday, and at +every festival, a solemn mass was said at St. Cloud; and in the glass +gallery on the way to the chapel, Bonaparte received petitions +and granted short audiences. France, with the instinct of its old +inclinations and habits, readily returned to this new order of things; +and even those who once had with enthusiasm saluted the Goddess of +Reason, went now, with hands joined in prayer and eyes bent low, to +Notre Dame, to offer again their supplications to the God of Love. + +Every thing seemed to return to the old track, every thing was as in the +days preceding the revolution--the re-establishment of the throne, the +national, willing approbation that the republic had become a monarchy, +was, however, still wanting. + +Finally, on the 18th of May, 1804, France spoke out the decisive word, +and, by the voice of its representatives the senators, it offered to +Bonaparte the crown, and requested him to ascend as emperor the throne +of France. + +Napoleon acceded to these wishes, and, as the senate, in a ceremonious +procession, marshalled by Cambaceres, came to St. Cloud to communicate +to Bonaparte the wish of France, and to offer to him and to Josephine +the dignities of an empire, he accepted it without surprise, and +apparently without joy, and allowed himself to be proclaimed NAPOLEON, +THE FIRST EMPEROR OF THE FRENCH. + +On this memorable day, after Cambaceres, in the name of the senate and +of France, had addressed the first consul as the actual emperor, he +turned to Josephine, who, with that unparalleled admixture of grandeur, +grace, and tender womanly beauty, which were all so especially her own, +was present at this audience at Napoleon's side. + +"Madame," said Cambaceres, "there remains yet to the senate a pleasant +duty to perform: to bring to your imperial majesty the homage of its +respect and the expression of gratitude of the French people. Yes, +madame, the public sentiment acknowledges the good which you are ever +performing; that you are always accessible to the unfortunate; that you +use your influence with the chief magistrate only to diminish evil, and +to procure a hearing to those who seek it; and that your majesty +with this well-doing combines the most amiable tenderness, rendering +thankfulness a pleasant duty. These noble qualities of your majesty +foretell that the name of the Empress Josephine will be a watchword +of trust and hope; and, as the virtues of Napoleon will ever be to his +followers an example to teach them the difficult art of government, +so also, the lively remembrance of your goodness will teach to their +honorable wives that to strive to dry the tear is the surest means of +ruling the heart. The senate deems itself happy in being the first +to congratulate your imperial majesty, and he who has the honor of +addressing you these sentiments in the name of the senate, dares trust +that you will ever number him among your most faithful servants." + +It was, then, decided! France had accepted her master, and Cambaceres in +his solemn address had already marked out the situation of France and of +her rulers. Bonaparte and Josephine were now their imperial majesties, +the senators were their most faithful servants. What remained to the +people but to call themselves "faithful subjects?" + +The people, however, had made known their wishes only through the voice +of the senate; it was the senators who had converted Bonaparte into the +Emperor Napoleon; but the people were also to make their will known in a +solemn manner; they were, through a universal public suffrage, to decide +whether the imperial dignity should be given only for life to Napoleon +the First, Emperor of the French, or whether it should be hereditary in +his family. + +France, wearied with storms and divisions, decided with her five +millions of votes for the hereditary imperial dignity in Bonaparte's +family, and thus the people of France created their fourth dynasty. + +Meanwhile Josephine received this new decision of the nation, not with +that disquietude and care which she had formerly experienced. +Bonaparte had given her the deepest and strongest proof of his love +and faithfulness. He had not only withstood the pressure of his whole +family, which had conjured him before his election to the empire to be +divorced from his childless wife, but he had in the generosity of his +love appointed his heirs and successors, and these were to be the sons +of Hortense. The senate had decreed that the imperial dignity should be +transmitted as a heritage to Napoleon's two brothers Joseph and +Louis, and moreover they had given to Napoleon the right to choose his +successors and heirs from the families of the two brothers. + +Napoleon had given to Josephine the strongest proof of affection--he had +declared the son of her daughter Hortense and of his brother Louis, the +little Napoleon Louis, to be his successor and heir, and the idea of +a divorce no longer caused apprehensions before which Josephine need +tremble. + +Bonaparte had appointed the sons of his brother and of Josephine's +daughter as his heirs, and the heir of the new imperial throne was +already born. Hortense's youth made it hopeful that she would add to the +new branch of the Napoleonic dynasty new leaves and new boughs. + +Josephine could now rejoice in her happiness and her glory; she could +abandon herself to the new splendors of her life with all the enjoyment +of her sensitive and excitable nature. She could now receive with smiles +and with affable condescension the homage of France, for she was not +only empress by a nation's vote, but she was also empress by the choice +of Napoleon her husband. + +The brilliancy of this new and glorious horizon was soon overhung by a +sombre cloud. The execution of the Duke d'Enghien threw its dark shadows +from the last days of the consulate upon the truly royalist heart of +Josephine; and now that heart was to receive fresh wounds through the +royalists, to whom she had remained true with all the memories of +youth, and in whose behalf she had so often, so zealously, and so warmly +interceded with her husband. + +A new conspiracy against Napoleon's life was discovered, and this time +it was the men of the highest ranks of the old aristocracy who were +implicated in it. George Cadoudal, the unwearied conspirator, had, while +in England, planned with the leaders of the monarchical party residing +in France, or who were away from it, a new conspiracy, whose object was +to destroy Bonaparte and to re-establish the monarchy. + +But Fate was again on the side of the hero of Arcola. His good star +still protected him. The conspiracy was discovered, and all those +concerned in it were arrested. Among them were the Generals Pichegru and +Moreau, the Counts de Polignac, Riviere, Saint Coster, Charles d'Hozier, +and many others of the leading and most distinguished royalists. They +were now under the avenging sword of justice, and the tribunal had +condemned twenty of the accused to death, among whom were the above +named. The emperor alone had the power to save them and to extend mercy. +But he was this time determined to exhibit a merciless severity, so as +to put an end to the royalists, and to prove to them that he was the +ruler of France, and that the people without a murmur had given him the +power to punish, as guilty of high-treason, those who dared touch their +emperor. + +Josephine's heart, however, remained true to her memories and her piety; +and, according to her judgment, those who, with so much heroic loyalty, +remained true to the exiled monarchy, were criminals only as they had +imperilled her husband's life, but criminals who, since their plans were +destroyed, deserved pardon, because they had sinned through devotion to +sacred principles. + +Josephine, therefore, opposed Bonaparte's anger, and begged for pardon +for the son of the former friend of Queen Marie Antoinette, the Count +Jules de Polignac. Bonaparte, however, remained inexorable; he repelled +Josephine with vehemence, reproaching her for asking for the life of +those who threatened his. But she would not be deterred; since Bonaparte +had turned her away with her petitions and prayers, she wanted at least +to give to the wife of the Count de Polignac an opportunity to ask +pardon for her condemned husband. Despite Bonaparte's wrath, Josephine +led the Countess de Polignac into a corridor through which the emperor +had to pass, when he went from the council-room into his cabinet, and by +this means the countess was fortunate enough, by her tears and prayers, +to save her husband's life. The Count de Polignac was pardoned; and now +that Bonaparte's heart had once been opened to mercy, he also granted to +Josephine the lives of Count Riviere and of General Lajolais, in behalf +of whom Hortense had appealed to the emperor. More than twenty of the +conspirators were accused and sentenced, some to death and some to +severe punishment, but one-half of the accused were, thanks to the +prayers of Josephine and of her daughter, pardoned; a few were put to +death, and the rest transported. Pichegru committed suicide in prison; +Moreau received permission to emigrate to America; George Cadoudal +perished on the scaffold. + +After this last fruitless attempt to re-establish in France the throne +of the Bourbons, the royalists, wearied and terrified, had at least +for a time to withdraw into obscurity and solitude, and the +newly-established empire appeared in still more striking magnificence. +The monarchy by God's grace had been conquered by the empire by the +people's grace, and Napoleon wanted now to show himself to astonished +Europe in all the glory of his new dignity. He therefore undertook a +journey with his wife through the conquered German provinces; he went +to Aix-la-Chapelle, to the city of coronation of the ancient German +emperors, and which now belonged to imperial France; he went to Mayence, +the golden Mayence of the old Roman days, and which now, after so many +streams of bloodshed, had been transferred to France. + +This journey of the emperor and empress was one uninterrupted triumphal +procession; the population of the old German city applauded, in +dishonorable faithlessness, the new foreign ruler; all the clergy +received their imperial majesties at the door of the cathedral, where +Germany's first emperor, Charlemagne, was buried; and, to flatter the +Empress Josephine, the clergy caused a miracle to be performed by her +hand. There existed in the sacred treasury of the cathedral a casket of +gold, containing the most precious relics, but which was never opened to +the eyes of mortals, and whose lock no key fitted. Only once a year was +this precious, sacred casket of relics shown to the worshipping crowd, +and then locked up in the holy shrine. But for Josephine this treasury +was condescendingly opened, and to the empress was presented this casket +of relics, and behold, the miracle took place! At the touch of the +empress the lid of the casket sprang up, and in it were seen the +most precious jewels of royalty, amongst which was the seal-ring of +Charlemagne. [Footnote: Constant, "Memoires," vol. iii.] No one was more +surprised at this miracle than the clergy! + +The neighboring German princes came to ancient Mayence to do homage to +Josephine, and to win the favor of the sovereign of France toward their +little principalities, and to assure him of their devotedness. Bonaparte +already understood how to receive the humble, flattering German princes +with the mien of a gracious protector, and to look upon them with the +eye of an emperor, to whom not only the nations but also the princes +must bow; and Josephine also excited the admiration of genuine princes +and legitimate princesses, by the graciousness and grandeur, by the +unaffected dignity and ease with which she knew how to represent the +sovereign and the empress. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. THE POPE IN PARIS. + + +Fate had reserved another triumph for the ruler of France, the Emperor +Napoleon--the triumph that the empire by the people's grace should be +converted and exalted into the empire by God's grace. Pope Pius VII., +full of thankfulness that Napoleon had re-established the Church in +France, and restored to the clergy their rights, had consented to come +to Paris for the sake of giving to the empire, created by the will +of the French people, the benediction of the Church, and in solemn +coronation to place the imperial crown on the head anointed by the hands +of God's vice-gerent. + +Bonaparte received this news with the lofty composure of an emperor who +finds it quite natural that the whole world should bow to his wishes, +and Josephine received it with the modesty and joyous humility of a +pious Christian. She desired above all things the blessing of God and of +the Church to rest upon this crown, whose possession had seemed to her +until now a spoliation, a sacrilege, and about which her conscience so +often reproached her. But when God's vicegerent, when the Holy Father of +Christendom should himself have blessed her husband's crown, and should +have made fast on Josephine's brow the imperial diadem, then all blame +was removed, then the empress could hope that Heaven's blessing would +accompany the new emperor and his wife! + +But was it really Napoleon's wish that Josephine should take part in +this grand ceremony of coronation? Did he wish that, like him, she +should receive from the hands of the pope the consecrated crown? + +Such was the deep, important question which occupied, at the approaching +arrival of the pope, the young imperial court; a question, too, +which occupied Josephine's mind, and also the whole family, and more +especially the sisters of Bonaparte. + +Josephine naturally desired that it should be so, for this solemn +coronation would be a new bond uniting her to her husband, a new +guaranty against the evil which the empress's foreboding spirit still +dreaded. But for the very same reasons her enemies prepared their +weapons to prevent Josephine from obtaining this new consecration and +this new glory, and harsh and bitter conflicts took place within the +inner circles of the imperial family on account of it, which on both +sides were carried on with the deepest animosity and obstinacy, but +finally to a complete triumph for Josephine. + +Thiers, in his "History of the Consulate and of the Empire," relates the +last scenes in this family quarrel: + +"Napoleon vacillated between his affection for his wife and the secret +presentiments of his policy, when an occurrence took place which nearly +caused the sudden ruin of the unfortunate Josephine. Every one was in a +state of agitation about the new monarch--brothers, sisters, and allies! +In the solemnity which seemed to give to each a blessing, all desired to +perform parts adequate to their actual pretensions, and to their hopes +of the future. At the sight of this restlessness, and witnessing the +pretensions and claims to which Napoleon was exposed from one of his +sisters, Josephine, carried away by anxiety and jealousy, gave utterance +to an insulting suspicion against his sister and against Napoleon, a +suspicion which agreed with the most bitter calumnies of the royalist +emigrants. Napoleon grew violently angry, and, as his wrath mastered his +better feelings, he declared to Josephine that he wanted to be divorced +from her; that he would have to be, sooner or later, and that it was +therefore better to announce it on the spot, before other bonds should +unite them still closer together. He sent for his two adopted children, +communicated to them this decision, and thus produced on them a most +painful impression. Hortense and Eugene de Beauharnais declared with +a sad but unwavering determination that they would follow their mother +into the exile which was being prepared for her. Josephine manifested +a resigned and dignified sorrow. The contrast of their sorrow with the +satisfaction which the other portion of the imperial family manifested, +deeply lacerated Napoleon's heart, and he relented; for he could not +consent to see the companion of his youth and her children, who had been +the objects of his deserved affection, made so unhappy by being forced +into exile. He took Josephine in his arms, told her with emotion that +he could never have the strength to part from her, even if policy itself +should dictate it; and he then promised her that she should be crowned +with him, and at his side should receive from the pope the divine +blessing." [Footnote: Thiers, "Histoire du Consulat et de l'Empire." +vol. v., p. 249.] + +Josephine, therefore, had won a victory over the hostile sisters, but +this defeat made them still more embittered, and though they were now +compelled to recognize Josephine as the imperial wife of their brother, +yet they would retreat only step by step, and at "least secure a place +near the imperial throne, and not be compelled by the empress to stand +behind. Yet this was exactly what was to take place according to the +programme, which prescribed for the festivity in Notre Dame that on the +day of coronation the brothers of the emperor should carry the trail of +his mantle, and that his sisters should at the same time carry the trail +of the empress's mantle. But the sisters of Napoleon decidedly opposed +this arrangement. + +"The emperor, tired of these constant wranglings and domestic strifes, +decided as judge, and declared he would no longer listen to these +unheard-of and unjustifiable pretensions. + +"'Truly,' said he, to the beautiful Pauline, who, as Princess Borghese, +considered herself justified in making opposition, 'truly, one would +think, after listening to you, that I have despoiled you of the +inheritance of the most blessed king our father.'" [Footnote: "Histoire +du Consulat," vol. v., p. 251.] + +The ambitious sisters, kept within bounds by the angry voice of their +brother, who now for the first time showed himself their ruling emperor, +had to fall into their places, and abide by the regulations of the +ceremony. + +Nothing was wanted now to perfect the sacred celebration which was +to crown all the triumphs and victories of Napoleon, nothing but the +arrival of the pope: the whole imperial family, as well as France, +awaited his advent with impatience. + +At last the couriers brought the news that the pope had touched the +French soil, and that the people were streaming toward him to manifest +their respect, and to implore his blessing on their knees; the same +people who precisely ten years before had closed the churches, driven +the priests into exile, and consecrated their bacchanalian worship to +the Goddess of Reason! + +At last, on the 25th day of November, the pope entered Fontainebleau, +where the emperor and the empress had hastened to receive him. No sooner +was the pope's approach announced, than Napoleon mounted his horse and +rode to meet him some distance on the way. In the centre of the road +took place the first interview between the representative of Christendom +and the youngest son of the Church, a son who now sat on the throne of +those who in former times had enjoyed the privilege of being called the +elder sons of the Church. + +The pope alighted from his carriage as soon as the emperor was in +sight; Napoleon dismounted and hastened to meet and embrace tenderly +his holiness, and then to ascend with him the carriage, the question of +precedence remaining undecided, as the pope and the emperor entered the +carriage at the same time from opposite sides. + +Josephine, surrounded by the official dignitaries, the ministers of +state, and all the generals, received the pope under the peristyle of +the palace of Fontainebleau; and then, after Napoleon had led him into +his room, Josephine, accompanied by her ladies, went to welcome Pius, +not as empress, but as an humble, devout daughter of the Church, who +wished to implore a blessing from the Holy Father of Christendom. +Josephine was deeply moved; her whole being was agitated and exalted at +once by this greatest of all the privileges which destiny had reserved +for her, and by this consecration which she was to receive at the hands +of the vicar of Christ. + +As the pope, agreeably affected by this respect and emotion of the +empress, offered her his hand with a genial smile, Josephine, humble as +a little girl, sank down on her knees before him, kissed his hand, and +with streaming eyes implored his benediction. Pius, in his soft, winning +manner, promised to love her as a daughter, and that she should ever +find in him a father. + +The empress, deeply moved by this affectionate condescension of the +pope, and impressed by the importance and solemnity of the moment, +bade her ladies withdraw, whilst she, in solitude and silence, as a +confessing child before the priest, should unveil her innermost heart +to the Holy Father. She then sank down upon her knees, and, stammering, +ashamed, with her voice broken by her sobs, acknowledged to the pope +that her marriage to Napoleon had never received, the consecration of +the Church; that, contracted amid the stormy days of the revolution, it +still lacked the blessing hand of the priest, and that her own husband +was to be blamed for this neglect. In vain had she often besought him +that, since he had restored the Church to Prance, he should himself give +to the world a striking example of his own return by having his marriage +blessed by it. But Napoleon refused, although he had been the cause of +Cardinal Caprera giving to the marriage of his sister Caroline Murat, +long after it had been contracted, the blessing of the Church. + +Pius heard this confession of his imperial penitent with holy +resentment, and he promised her his aid and protection, assuring her he +would refuse the act of coronation if the ecclesiastical marriage did +not precede it. + +No sooner had Josephine left him, than the pope asked for an interview +with the emperor, to whom he declared, with all the zeal of a true +servant of the Church, and the conviction of a devout, God-fearing man, +that he was willing to crown him, and to grant him the blessing of +the Church, for the state of the conscience of emperors had never been +examined before their anointment; but if his wife was to be crowned with +him, he must refuse his co-operation, because in crowning Josephine he +dare not grant the divine sanction to concubinage. + +Napoleon, though inwardly much irritated at Josephine, who, as he at +once supposed, had made this confession to the pope in her own interest, +was still willing to abide by the circumstances. He did not wish to +irritate the pope, who as was well known was unyielding in all matters +pertaining to faith; moreover, he could not change any thing in the +already published ceremonial of the day, and thus he consented to have +the ecclesiastical marriage. After this conversation with the pope, +Napoleon went at once to Josephine, and the whole strength of his anger +was spent in violent reproaches against her untimely indiscretion. + +Josephine endured these silently, and full of inward satisfaction; she +did not listen to Napoleon's angry words; she only heard that he was +decided to have his marriage sanctioned by the Church, and now she would +be his wife before God, as she had been before men for the last +ten years. Now at last her fate was decided, and her marriage made +irrevocable; now she would no longer dread that Napoleon would punish +her childlessness by a divorce. + +During the night which preceded the day of the coronation, the night +of the 1st of December, the ecclesiastical marriage of Napoleon and +Josephine took place in the chapel of the Tuileries. The only witnesses +were Talleyrand and Berthier, from both of whom the emperor had exacted +an oath of profound silence. Cardinal Fesch, the emperor's uncle, +performed the ceremony, and pronounced the benediction of the Church +over this marriage, which Bonaparte's love for Josephine had induced him +to consent to, and which her love endeavored to make indissoluble. + +This marriage, which she desired both as a loving woman and as a devout +Christian, was the most glorious triumph which Josephine had ever +obtained over the enmity of her husband's sisters, for it was a new +proof of the love and faithfulness of this man, whom neither expediency, +nor family, nor state reasons, could remove from her, and who, with +the hand of love, had guided her away from all the dangers which had +surrounded her. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE CORONATION. + + +At last, on the 2d of December, came the day which Napoleon had during +many years past longed for within the recesses of his heart; the day +which his ambition had hoped for, the day of his solemn coronation. +And now the victorious soldier was to see all his laurels woven into an +imperial crown--that which Julius Caesar had tried to win, and for which +the republic punished him with death. + +But now the republicans were silent: before this new Julius Caesar they +dare not lift up their swords, for the power belonged to him, and that +he knew how to punish had been seen by trembling France not long ago +at the execution of George Cadoudal and his associates, the people +sanctioning those executions. + +There was no Brutus there to plunge the dagger into the breast of the +new Cassar. His was the victory, the throne, the crown; and all France +was in joyous excitement at this new triumph, that the pope himself +should come from Rome to Paris so as to place the crown on the head of +an emperor by the grace of the people, and to make of the elect of the +people an elect of God. + +The day had scarcely begun to dawn when all the streets of Paris through +which the imperial as well as the papal procession had to move toward +Notre Dame were filled with wave-like masses of human beings, who soon +occupied not only the streets but all the windows and all the roofs of +the houses. Those who were fortunate enough to be provided with cards +of admission into Notre Dame, went at six o'clock in the morning to the +cathedral, for whose adorning during the last fourteen days more than a +thousand workmen had been busy, and who had not yet quite finished their +work, retiring only when the approach of the pope and of his suite was +announced. In the interior of the Tuileries began from the commencement +of the day, on three different sides, a lively movement. + +Here, in the apartments which the pope occupied, gathered together the +cardinals, the clergy, and all the church dignitaries who in the pope's +suite were to proceed to Notre Dame. + +There, in the apartments of the emperor, a host of courtiers and +officers waited from early dawn for the moment when the toilet of the +emperor should be completed, and he should go to the great throne-room, +where the empress and the imperial family would await him. + +The greatest excitement, however, naturally prevailed in the apartments +of the empress, whose toilet occupied a host of chambermaids and ladies +of the court, and which had already been for months the subject of +thought, labor, and art, for painter and embroiderer, and for all +manner of professions, as well as for the master of ceremonies. For this +imperial toilet-ceremonial was to be in accordance with the traditions +of ancient France, but was not, at the same time, to be a mere imitation +of the coronation-toilet of the Bourbons, whom the revolution had +dethroned, the same revolution which had opened for Napoleon the way to +the throne. + +For this important ceremony, therefore, special costumes, somewhat +resembling those of former centuries, had been found. The painter Ingres +had furnished the designs for these costumes, and also plans for the +procession and for the groupings in Notre Dame; he had prepared all this +in pictures of great effect for the emperor's inspection. But in order +to show to advantage the several costumes, as well as the train of +personages, and the subdivisions of the different groups of the imperial +dignitaries, Ingres had caused small puppets to be dressed in similar +costumes, and arrayed in the order of the procession according to the +prescribed ceremonies for that day; and for weeks the imperial court had +been studying these costumes, and every one's duty had been to impress +on his mind the position assigned to him for the day of coronation. +[Footnote: Constant, "Memoires," vol. iii., p. 111.] + +The pope's toilet was the first completed; and at nine o'clock, all +dressed in white, he entered a carriage drawn by eight grays; over it in +gilt bronze were the tiara and the attributes of papacy. In front of the +carriage rode one of his chamberlains upon a white ass, bearing a large +silver cross before God's vicegerent. Behind it in new carriages came +the cardinals, the prelates, and the Italian officers of the pope's +palace. + +While the papal train was moving slowly on the quays of the Seine toward +the cathedral, amid the sounds of bells, and the unceasing, joyful +shouts of the people, all was yet in motion within the apartments of +the emperor and empress. On all sides hurried along the dignitaries and +officers who were to form a part of the imperial procession. + +For this day, Napoleon had been obliged to cast off his plain uniform +and substitute the splendid theatrical costume of imperial magnificence. +The stockings were of silk, wrought with gold, embroidered round the +edge with imperial crowns; the shoes were of white velvet, worked and +embroidered with gold; short breeches of white velvet, embroidered with +gold at the hips, and with buttons and buckles of diamonds in the shape +of garters; the vest also was of white velvet, embroidered with gold and +having diamond buttons; the coat was of crimson velvet, with facings of +white velvet along all the seams above and around, and sparkling with +gold; the half-mantle was also crimson, lined with white satin, and +hanging over the left shoulder, while on the right shoulder and upon +the breast it was fastened with a pair of diamond clasps. Sleeves of the +most costly lace fell about the arms; the cravat was of Indian muslin, +the collar likewise of lace; the cap, of black velvet, was adorned with +two plumes and surrounded by a coronet of diamonds, which "the regent" +used as a clasp. Such was the costume which the emperor wore in the +procession from the Tuileries to Notre Dame. In the vestry of the +cathedral he put on the ample state-robes, that is to say, the robe and +mantle of emperor. [Footnote: Constant, "Memoires," vol. ii., p. 212.] + +The toilet of the empress was no less splendid and brilliant. It +consisted of an elaborate robe with a long train; this robe was of +silver brocade, with gold bees scattered all over; in front it was +embroidered into a maze of gold-leaves; at the lower edge was a gold +fringe; the shoulders alone were bare; long armlets of wrought gold, and +adorned at the upper part with diamonds, enclosed the arm and covered +one-half of the hand. It required all the art and grace of Josephine +to carry this robe, it being without any waist, and, according to the +fashion of the times, extremely narrow, and yet in wearing it to lose +naught of her elegance or condescending dignity. At the upper part of +the dress rose a collar a la Medicis of lace worked in with gold, and +which Josephine had been constrained to wear, so as at least, through +some historic details, to make her toilet correspond to the costume +of the renaissance worn by Napoleon. A gold girdle, adorned with +thirty-nine diamond rosettes, fastened under the breast her tunic-like +dress. In her fondness for the antique, Josephine, instead of diamonds +and pearls, had preferred for bracelets, ear-rings, and necklace, +some choice stones of rare workmanship. Her beautiful thick hair was +encircled and held together by a splendid diadem, a masterpiece of +modern art. This toilet was to be completed, like that of Napoleon, +before the solemn entrance into the cathedral, by putting on the +imperial mantle, which was fastened on the shoulders with gold buckles +and diamond clasps. + +At last the imperial toilets were completed; all the dignitaries, as +well as the imperial family, gathered together in the throne-room, +ready for the procession. Holding Josephine by the hand, her countenance +expressing deep emotion, and her eye obscured by the tears shed as a +price for the solemn marriage of that night, Napoleon appeared in +the midst of his brilliant courtiers, and received the impressive, +heart-felt wishes of his family, his brothers and sisters, who pressed +around him and the empress, and who at this moment, forgetting all envy +and jealousy, had only words of thankfulness and assurances of love, +devotedness, and loyalty. + +Napoleon replied to them all in the short, comprehensive words which he +addressed to his brother Joseph, whilst with his naming eyes he examined +his brothers and sisters in the brilliant costumes of their dignity and +glory: + +"Joseph," said he, "could our father see us now!" [Footnote: Meneval, +"Souvenirs," vol. i., p. 204.] + +From the pomp and solemnity of this important moment the thoughts of the +emperor, for whom the pope was waiting in Notre Dame, wandered far +away to the gloomy, quiet death-bed of his father, whose last hour was +embittered by the tormenting thought of leaving his family unprotected +and with but little means. + +The thundering roar of cannon and the chimes of bells proclaimed that +the emperor and empress, with their train, were now leaving the palace +to ascend into the wonderful carriage made of gold and glass, and which +was waiting for them at the Pavilion de l'Horloge to proceed toward the +cathedral. + +This carriage, prepared expressly for this day's celebration, was of +enormous size and breadth, with windows on all sides, and entirely alike +in its front and back seats. It therefore happened that their imperial +majesties, on entering the carriage, not thinking of the direction to be +taken, sat down on the front instead of the back seat. + +The empress noticed the mistake, and when she laughingly called the +emperor's attention to it, they both took the back seat without a +suspicion that this little error was a bad omen. + +Another little mishap occurred before they entered Notre Dame, which +threw a gloom of sad forebodings and fear over the heart of the empress. + +Whilst alighting out of the carriage, the empress, whose hand was +occupied in the holding and carrying her robe and mantle, let slip +from her fingers the imperial ring which the pope had brought her for a +present, and which before the coronation he was to bless, according to +the accustomed ceremonial, and then place it on her finger as a token of +remembrance of the holy consecration. This made Josephine tremble, and +her cheeks turned pale, especially as the ring could nowhere be found. +It had rolled a considerable distance from the carriage, and only after +some minutes did Eugene Beauharnais find it and bring it to his mother, +to her great delight and satisfaction. [Footnote: Aubenas, "Histoire de +l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. ii., p. 283.] + +At last the procession entered Notre Dame, and the brilliant solemnity +began. It is not our purpose to describe here again the ceremony which +has been in all its details portrayed in so many works, and to repeat +the solemn addresses and the different events of this great and +memorable day. It is with Josephine we have to do, and with what +concerns her individual destiny--that alone claims our attentive +consideration. + +One event, however, is to be mentioned. At the moment the emperor took +from the altar the so-called crown of Charles the Great, and with firm +hand placed it on his head--at the moment when he assumed the place of +the ancient Kings of France, a small stone, which had detached itself +from the cupola, fell down, touched his head, leaped on his shoulder, +slipped down his imperial mantle, and rolled over the altar-steps near +to the pope's throne, where it remained still until an Italian priest +picked it up. [Footnote: Abrantes. "Memoires," vol. vii., p. 258.] + +At the moment of his loftiest grandeur the destiny of his future aimed +its first stone at him, and marked him as the one upon whom its anger +was to fall. + +This was the third evil omen of the day; but fortunately Josephine had +not noticed it. Her whole soul was absorbed in the sacred rites; and, +after the emperor had crowned himself, her heart trembled with deep +emotion and agitation, for now the moment had come when she was to take +her part in the solemnity. + +The Duchess d'Abrantes, who was quite near Josephine, and an immediate +witness of the whole celebration, depicts the next scene in the +following words: "The moment when the greatest number of eyes were fixed +upon the altar-steps where the emperor stood, was when Josephine was +crowned by him, and was solemnly consecrated Empress of the French. What +a moment! ... what a homage! What a proof of love manifested to her from +him who so much loved her! + +"David's painting, and many other pictures taken during the coronation, +at the very spot and time, have well represented the empress at the +feet of Napoleon, who crowns her; then the pope, the priests, and +even persons who were four hundred miles away--as, for instance, the +emperor's mother, who was then in Rome, but whom David nevertheless +brings into his picture. But nothing, however, can give us a true +description, or even an approximate idea, of this alike touching and +lofty scene, where a great man by his own efforts ascends a throne, for +on this occasion he was full of gratitude and emotion. + +"When the moment had come for Josephine to take her part in the great +drama, the empress rose from the throne and approached the altar, where +the emperor was waiting for her; she was followed by the ladies of the +palace and by her whole court, while the Princesses Caroline, Julie (the +wife of Joseph), the Princess Elise, and Louis Bonaparte, carried the +trail of her robe. One of the most admirable features in the beauty of +the Empress Josephine was not her fine, graceful figure, but the bearing +of her head--the gracious and noble manner in which she moved and +walked. I have had the honor to be introduced to many 'real princesses,' +as they are termed, in the Faubourg St. Germain, and I can in all +sincerity say that I have never seen one who appeared to me so imposing +as the Empress Josephine. In her, grace and majesty were blended. When +she put on the grand imperial robes there was no woman whose appearance +could be more royal in demeanor, and, in reality, none who understood +the art of occupying a throne as well as she, though she never had been +instructed in it. + +"I read all that I have now said in the eyes of Napoleon. He watched +with delight the empress as she moved toward him; and as she knelt +before him, ... as the tears she could not restrain streamed down her +folded hands, which were lifted up to him more than to God, at that +moment, when Napoleon, or, much more, when Bonaparte was for her the +real and visible Providence, there passed over these two beings one of +those fugitive minutes, unique in its kind, and never to be recalled +in a whole life, and which fills to overflowing the void of many long +years. The emperor performed with an unexcelled grace the most minute +details of every part of the subsequent ceremony, especially when the +moment came to crown the empress. + +"This ceremony was to be performed by the emperor himself, who, after +he had received the small closed crown surmounted by a cross, placed it +first on his own head, and then afterward on the head of the empress. He +performed these two movements with a most exquisite slowness, which was +indeed admirable. But at the moment when he was to crown her who was for +him, according to a prophecy, 'the star of happiness,' he made himself, +if I dare use the expression, coquettish. He arranged this little crown +which was to stand over her coronet of diamonds, and placed it on her +head, then lifted it up to replace it in another way, as if to promise +her that this crown would be light and pleasant to her." [Footnote: +Abrantes, "Memoires."] + +After this twofold crowning performed by Napoleon himself, the pope, +surrounded by cardinals and prelates, approached the throne, and +arriving upon the platform pronounced in a loud voice, spreading his +hands over their imperial majesties, the ancient Latin formula of +enthronization: "In hoc solio confirme vos Deus, et in regno aeterno +secum regnare faciat Christus." (God establish you on this throne, and +Christ make you reign with Him in His everlasting kingdom.) He then +kissed the emperor on the cheeks, and turning himself to the audience, +cried with a loud voice: "Vivat imperator in aeternum!" + +The immense cathedral resounded with one glad shout of thousands of +voices: "Long live the emperor! long live the empress!" Napoleon, calm +and reserved, answered this acclamation with a friendly motion of the +head. Josephine stood near him, pale, deeply moved, her eyes, full of +tears, fixed on the emperor, as if she would pray to him, and not to +God, for the prosperity and blessing of the future. + +Meanwhile the pope had descended from his throne, and while he +approached the altar, the bands played "Long live the emperor," which +the Abbe Kose had composed for this solemnity. Then the pope, standing +before the altar, intoned the Te Deum, which was at once executed by +four choirs and two orchestras, and which completed the ecclesiastical +part of the ceremony. + +This was followed by a secular one. The emperor took, on the Bible +which Cardinal Fesch presented to him, the oath prescribed in the +constitution, and whereby he pledged himself solemnly to maintain "the +most wise results of the revolution, to defend the integrity of the +territory, and to rule only in the interest of the happiness and glory +of the French people." After he had taken this oath, a herald approached +the edge of the platform, and, according to ancient custom, cried out in +a loud voice: "The most mighty and glorious Emperor Napoleon, Emperor of +the French, is crowned and enthroned! Long live the emperor!" + +A tremendous, prolonged shout of joy followed this proclamation: "Long +live the emperor! Long live the empress!" and then an artillery +salute thundered forth from behind the cathedral, and a similar salute +responded from the Tuileries, and from the Invalides, and proclaimed to +all Paris that France had again found a ruler, that a new dynasty had +been lifted up above the French people. + +At this moment from the Place de Carrousel ascended an enormous air +balloon surmounted by an ornamental, gigantic crown, and which, on the +wings of the wind, was to announce to France the same tidings proclaimed +to Paris by bell and cannon: "The republic of France is converted into +an empire! The free republicans are now the subjects of the Emperor +Napoleon I.!" + +The gigantic balloon arose amid the joyous shouts of the crowd, and soon +disappeared from the gaze of the spectators. It flew, as a trophy of +victory of Napoleon I., all over France. Thousands saw it and understood +its silent and yet eloquent meaning, but no one could tell where it +had fallen, finally, after many weeks, the emperor, who had often asked +after the balloon's fate, received the wished-for answer. The balloon +had fallen in Rome, upon Nero's grave! + +Napoleon remained silent a moment at this news: a shadow passed over his +countenance; then his brow brightened again, and he exclaimed: "Well, I +would sooner see it there, than in the dust of the streets!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. DAYS OF HAPPINESS. + + +The prophecy of the old woman in Martinique had now been fulfilled: +Josephine was more than a queen, she was an empress! She stood on life's +summit, and a world lay at her feet. Before the husband who stood at her +side, the princes and the people of Europe bowed in the dust, and paid +him homage--the hero who by new victories had won ever-increasing fame +and fresh laurels, who had defeated Austria, Prussia, and Russia, and +who had engraven on the rolls of French glory the mighty victories of +Austerlitz, Jena, and Eylau! + +Josephine stood on the pinnacle of life; she saw the princes of foreign +states come to France as conquered, as captives, and as allies, to bring +to her husband and to herself the homage of subjects; she saw devoted +courtiers and flatterers; pomp and splendor surrounded her on every +side. + +Amid this glory she remained simple and modest--she never gave up her +cheerful gentleness and mildness; she never forgot the days which had +been; she never allowed herself to be exalted by the brilliancy of the +moment to an ambitious pride or to a lofty self-conceit. The friends of +the widow Josephine de Beauharnais always found in the empress Josephine +a thankful, obliging friend, ever ready to appeal to her husband, and +intercede with him in their behalf. To the royalists, when weary of +their long exile, though poor and helpless still loyal to the royal +family--when they returned to France with bleeding feet and wounded +hearts, to implore from the Emperor of the French the privilege of +dying in their native country--to them all Josephine was a counsellor, +a helper, a compassionate protectress. With deep interest she inquired +from them how it fared with the Count de Lille, whom her heart yet +named as the King of France, though her lips dared not utter it. All the +assistance she gave to the royalists, and the protection she afforded +them, oftentimes despite Napoleon's anger, all the loyalty, the +generosity, and self-denial she manifested, were the quiet sacrifice +which she offered to God for her own happiness, and with which she +sought to propitiate the revengeful spirit of the old monarchy, +loitering perchance in the Tuileries, where she now, in the place of the +wife of the Count de Lille, was enthroned as sovereign. + +Josephine's heart was unwearied and inexhaustible in well-doing and in +liberality; if Napoleon was truly the emperor and the father of the army +and of the soldiers, Josephine was equally the empress and the mother of +the poor and unfortunate. + +But she was also, in the true sense of the word, the empress of the +happy. No one understood so well as she did how to be the leader at +festivals, to preside at a joyous company, to give new attractions by +her gracious womanly sweetness and amiableness, or to receive homage +with such beaming eyes, and to make others happy while she herself +seemed to be made happy by them. + +Amid this life full of splendor and grandeur there were sad hours, +when the sun was shadowed by clouds, and the eyes of the Empress of the +French filled with such bitter tears as only the wife and the widow of +General Beauharnais could shed. + +Three things especially contributed to draw these tears from the eyes of +the Empress Josephine: her jealousy, her extravagance, and, lastly, her +childlessness. Josephine was jealous, for she not only loved Napoleon, +she worshipped him as her providence, her future, her happiness. Her +heart was yet so full of passion, and so young, that it hoped for much +happiness, and could not submit to that resignation which is +satisfied to give more love than it receives, and instead of the +warm, intoxicating cup of love, to receive the cool, sober beverage of +friendship. Josephine wanted not merely to be the friend, but to remain +Napoleon's beloved one; and she looked upon all these beautiful women +who adorned the imperial court of the Tuileries as enemies who came to +dispute with her the love of her husband. + +And, alas! she had too often to acknowledge herself defeated in this +struggle, to see her rivals triumph, and for weeks to retreat into +the background before the victorious one who may have succeeded in +enchaining the inconstant heart of Napoleon, and to make the proud +Caesar bow to her love. But afterward, when love's short dream had +vanished, Napoleon, penitent, would come back with renewed love to +his Josephine, whom he still called "the star of his happiness;" and +oftentimes, touched by her tears, he sacrificed to her anxiety and +jealousy a love-caprice, and became more affectionate, more agreeable +even, than when he had forsaken her; for then, to prove to her +how unreserved was his confidence, he often told her of his new +love-adventures, and was even indiscreet enough at times to betray all +his gallantries to her. + +The second object of the constant solicitude and trials of the empress +was her extravagance. She did not understand how to economize; her +indolent creole nature found it impossible to calculate, to bring +numbers into columns, or to question tedious figures, to see if debt and +purse agreed--if her generous heart must be prevented from giving to +the poor--from rendering assistance to the helpless, or from spending +handfuls for the suffering; to see if her taste for the arts was no +longer to be gratified with pictures, paintings, statues, cameos, +and other objects of vertu, which filled her with so much joy and +admiration; if her elegant manners and fondness for finery and dress +were to be denied all that was costly, all that was fashionable, and +which seemed to have been expressly invented for the adorning of an +empress. And when, in some of those grave, melancholy hours of internal +anxiety, the cruel phantoms of the future reckonings arose before her +and warned her to stop purchasing, Josephine comforted herself with the +idea that it was Napoleon himself who had requested her to be to all the +ladies of his court a pattern of elegance, and to be distinguished above +all by the most brilliant, the choicest, the costliest toilet. + +The emperor would often come into the cabinet of the empress, and to the +great astonishment of her ladies-in-waiting would enter into the most +minute details of her dress, and designate the robes and ornaments which +he desired her to wear on some special festivity. It even happened in +Aix-la-Chapelle that Napoleon, who had come into the toilet-room of the +empress and found that she had put on a robe which did not please him, +poured ink on the costly dress of silver brocade, so as to compel her +to put on another. [Footnote: Avrillon, "Memoires," vol. i., p. 98; and +Constant, "Memoires," vol. iii., p. 103.] + +And then how was it possible to resist the temptation of purchasing +all those beautiful things which were constantly brought to her for +inspection? Josephine loved what was beautiful, tasteful, and artistic; +all works of art which she admired must be purchased, whatever price was +asked; and when the merchants came to offer to the empress their superb +and splendid articles of luxury, how could she have the cruel courage +to repel them? How often did she purchase objects of extraordinary value +for which she had no need, simply to please herself and the merchant! +Every thing that was beautiful and tasteful pleased her, and she must +possess it. No one had a more remarkably fine taste than Josephine, but +the artists, the manufacturers, the merchants, also had fine taste, +and they came to the empress with the best they had; it was therefore +natural that she should purchase from them But unfortunately the happy +moment of the purchase was followed by the unhappy one of the payment, +and the outlay was constantly beyond the income of the empress, whose +treasury, besides, was so often emptied in charities, pensions, and +presents. Then when the merchants urged payment, and the purse was +empty, Josephine had recourse to the emperor, and had to entreat him to +meet her expenses, and then came violent scenes, reproaches, and +bitter words. The emperor was angry, Josephine wept, and payment and +reconciliation followed these scenes. Josephine promised to the emperor +and to herself to be more economical in the future, and no longer to +purchase what she could not pay for, but ever came the temptation, with +all its inviting treasures, and being no saintly Anthony, she would fall +a prey to the temptation. + +The third and thickest cloud which often darkened the serene sky of +her happiness after her marriage was, as already said, Josephine's +childlessness. This was the bitter drop which was mixed in the golden +cup of her joy--this was the sting which, however deeply hid under the +roses, still reached her heart and wounded it painfully. She had no +children who could call Napoleon father, no offspring to prolong the +future of the new dynasty. And therefore the firmer the emperor's +power became, the higher he stood above all other princes, the more +distressing and the more anxious were the emotions which filled the +heart of Josephine, the louder was the warning voice which ceased not to +whisper to her heart, and which she forgot only now and then under the +glow of Napoleon's assurances of love, or amid the noise of festivities. +This voice whispered: "You must give place to another. Napoleon will +reject you, to marry a wife of princely birth, who will give an heir to +his empire!" + +How Josephine strove to silence these agonizing whisperings of her +heart! With what restlessness of sorrow she rushed into the gayeties and +amusements of a court life! How she sought, in charitable occupations, +in the joys of society, in every thing which was congruous to the life +of a woman, of an empress, to obtain the forgetfulness of her torments! +With what envious attention she listened to the whispers of courtiers, +scrutinized their features, read their looks, to find out if they still +believed in the existence of an empress in the wife of Napoleon! With +what jealous solicitude she observed all the families on European +thrones, and considered what princesses among them were marriageable, +and whether Napoleon's relations with the fathers of such princesses +were more intimate than those with the other princes! + +And then she ever sought to deafen this vigilant, warning voice, by +comforting herself with the thought that the emperor had adopted his +brother's son, the son of Hortense, and that he had made him his heir, +and consequently the throne and the dynasty were secure in a successor. + +But alas! Fate would not leave this last comfort to the unfortunate +empress. In May of the year 1807, Prince Napoleon, the crown prince +of Holland, Napoleon's adopted son and successor, died of a child's +disease, which in a few days tore him away from the arms of his +despairing mother. + +Josephine's anguish was boundless, and in the first hours of this +misfortune, which with such annihilating force fell upon her, the +empress, as if in a state of hallucination, gazed into the future, +and, with prophetic voice, exclaimed: "Now I am lost! Now is divorce +certain!" + +Yes, she was lost! She felt it, she knew it! Nothing the emperor did +to pacify her anguish--the numerous expressions of his love, of his +sympathy, of his winning affection--nothing could any longer deceive +Josephine. The voices which had so long whispered in her breast now +cried aloud: "You must give place to another! Napoleon will reject you, +so as to have a son!" + +But the emperor seemed still to try to dispel these fears, and, to give +to his Josephine a new proof of his love and faithfulness, he chose +Eugene de Beauharnais, the son of Josephine, for his adopted heir, and +named him Vice-King of Italy, and gave him in marriage the daughter of +the King of Bavaria; he thus afforded to Europe the proof that he still +considered Josephine as his wife, and that he desired to be shown to +her all the respect due to her dignity, for he travelled to Munich in +company with her in order to be present at the nuptials. + +This journey to attend her son's marriage was the last pleasure of +Josephine--her last days of honors and happiness. Once more she saw +herself surrounded by all the splendor and the pomp of her rank; once +more she was publicly honored and admired as the wife of the first and +greatest ruler of the world, the wife of the Emperor Napoleon. + +Perhaps Josephine, in these hours of happiness, when as empress, wife, +and mother, she enjoyed the purest and most sacred pleasure, forgot the +sad forebodings and fears of her soul. Perhaps she now believed that, +since Napoleon had adopted her Eugene as his son, and had given to this +son a wife of royal extraction, Fate would be propitious to her; that +the emperor would be satisfied with the son of his choice, and that the +future scions of the royal princess would be the heirs of his throne. + +But one word of Napoleon frightened her out of this ephemeral security +into which happiness had lulled her. + +Josephine wept as she bade farewell to her son; she was comfortless when +with his young wife Eugene left for Italy. She complained to Napoleon, +in justification of her tears, that she should seldom see her son, that +now he was lost to his mother's heart. + +The emperor, who at first had endeavored to comfort her felt at last +wounded by her sorrow. + +"You weep, Josephine," said he, hastily, "but you have no reasonable +motives to do so; you weep simply because you are separated from your +son. If already the absence of your children causes you so much sorrow, +think then what I must endure! The tenderness which you feel for your +children makes me cruelly experience how unhappy it is for me to have +none." [Footnote: Avrillon, "Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine," vol. +i., p. 202.] + +Josephine trembled, and her tears ceased flowing in the presence of the +emperor, but only to fall more abundantly as soon as he had left her. +Now she wept no longer at her separation from her son; her tears were +still more bitter and painful--she grieved over the coming future; she +wept because those voices which happiness for a moment had deafened, now +spoke more loudly--more fearfully and menacingly shouted: "Napoleon will +reject you! He will choose for himself a wife of royal birth, who will +give an heir to his throne and his empire." + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. DIVORCE. + + +It was at last decided! The storm which had so long and so fearfully +rolled over Josephine's head was to burst, and with one single flash +destroy her earthly happiness, her love, her future! + +The peace of Vienna had been ratified on the 13th of October, 1809. +Napoleon passed the three long months of peace negotiations in Vienna +and in Schonbrunn, while Josephine, solitary and full of sad misgivings, +lived quietly in the retreat of Malmaison. + +Now that peace was signed, Napoleon returned to France with fresh +laurels and new crowns of victory. But not, as usual after so long +an absence, did he greet Josephine with the tenderness and joy of a +home-returning husband. He approached her with clouded brow; with a +proud, cold demeanor; with the mien of a ruling master, before whom all +must bow, even his wife, even his own heart. + +At Fontainebleau, whither the emperor in a few, short, commanding +words--in a letter of three lines--had invited the empress, did the +first interview of Josephine and Napoleon take place. She hastened to +meet her husband with a cheerful face and beaming eyes. He, however, +received her coldly, and endeavored to hide his feelings of uneasiness +and shame under a repulsive, domineering manner. + +He returned to his home victorious; the whole world lay conquered at +his feet; he was triumphant. He had so deeply humiliated the pride of +Austria that she not only accepted his harsh terms of peace, but, as +once men had appeased the Minotaur by the sacrifice of the most amiable +and most beautiful maiden, so Austria had asked in a low voice whether +the daughter of the emperor, Maria Louisa might not give to the +alliance of Austria and France the consecration of love. Napoleon +eagerly entered into the scheme; and while Josephine, as his married +wife before God and man, stood yet at his side, he already had begun +negotiations, the object of which was to make the daughter of the +Austrian emperor his wife, and before Napoleon returned to France those +negotiations had been brought to a satisfactory result. + +The ambitious Maria Louisa was to be the wife of the Emperor of the +French. Nothing more was wanted but that Napoleon should reject his +legitimate wife, whom the pope had anointed! He had but to disenthrone +her who for fifteen years, with true and tender love, had shared his +existence. He had only to be divorced publicly and solemnly, so as +immediately to possess a bride, the daughter of an emperor! + +Napoleon came to Fontainebleau to accomplish this cruel task, to break +at once his marriage with Josephine and her heart. He knew what terrible +sufferings he was preparing for her; he himself quailed under the +anguish she was to endure; his heart was full of sorrow and woe, and +yet his resolution was irrevocable. Policy had controlled his heart, +ambition had conquered his love, and the man was determined to sacrifice +his wife to the emperor. + +Josephine felt this at the first word he addressed her, at the first +look he gave her, after so long a separation, and her heart shrank +within itself in bitter anguish, while a stream of tears started from +her eyes. + +But Napoleon asked not for the cause of these tears; he had not the +courage to wage an open war with this brave, loving heart, and to subdue +her love and despair with the two-edged sword of his state policy and +craftiness. He did not wish to utter the word; he wanted to make her +feel what an abyss was now open between them; all confidential and +social intercourse was to be avoided, so that the empress might become +conscious that love and fellowship of hearts had ceased also. + +On the evening after the first interview the empress found that the door +of communication between her apartments and those of the emperor had +been closed. Napoleon did not, as had been his wont, bid her good-night +with a cordial and friendly kiss, but, in the presence of her ladies, he +dismissed her with a cold salutation. The next day the emperor expressly +avoided her society; and when at rare moments he was with her, he was +so taciturn, so morose and cold, that the empress had not the courage to +ask for an explanation, or to reproach him, but, trembling and afraid, +she bowed under the iron pressure of his severe, angry looks. + +To prevent their being with each other alone, and to avoid this horrible +solitude, dreaded alike by Napoleon and Josephine, the emperor sent the +next day for all the princes and princesses of his family to come to +Fontainebleau. His sisters, no longer kept in control by the domineering +will of the emperor, made Josephine feel their malice and enmity; they +found pleasure in letting the empress see their own ascendency, their +secure position, and in treating her with coldness and disrespect. The +emperor, instead of guarding Josephine against these humiliations, had +the cruel courage to increase them; for, without reserve or modesty, +and in the very presence of Josephine, he offered the most familiar and +positive attentions to two ladies of his court--ladies whom he honored +with special favor. [Footnote: Thiers, "Histoire du Consulat et de +l'Empire," vol. xi., p. 323.] + +It was death-like agony which Josephine suffered in those days of +Fontainebleau; it was a cruel martyrdom, which she, however, endured +with all the gentleness of her nature, with the devotedness and +uncomplaining anguish of true and genuine love. + +Napoleon could not endure this. The sight of this yet beloved pale face, +with its sweet, angelic smile, lacerated his heart and tortured him with +reproaches. He wanted to have festivities and amusements, so as not to +witness this quiet, devoted anguish, so as not to read every day in the +sorrowful, red eyes of Josephine, the story of nights passed in tears. + +The court returned to Paris, there to celebrate the new victorious peace +with brilliant feasts. Napoleon, so as to be delivered from the tearful +companionship of Josephine, made the journey on horseback, and never +once rode near her carriage. + +In Paris had begun at once a series of festivities, at which German +princes, the Kings of Saxony, of Bavaria, and of Wurtemberg, were +present, to congratulate Napoleon on his victories in Germany. The +Empress Josephine, by virtue of her rank, had to appear at these +receptions; she had, although in the deepest despondency, to wear a +smile on her lip, to appear as empress at the side of the man who met +her with coldness and estrangement, and whom she yet loved with the true +love of a wife! She had to see the courtiers, with the keen instinct of +their race, desert her, leaving around her person an insulting void and +vacancy. Her heart was tortured with anguish and woe, and yet she could +not uproot her love from it; she did not have the courage to speak the +decisive word, and to desire the divorce which she knew hung over her, +and which at any moment might agonize her heart! + +Josephine did not possess the cowardice to commit suicide; she was ready +to receive the fatal blow, but she could not plunge the dagger into her +own heart. + +Napoleon, unable to endure these tortures, longed to bring them to an +end. He secretly made all the necessary arrangements, and communicated +to the first chancellor, Cambaceres, his irrevocable resolution to be +divorced from the empress. He, however, notified him that he wanted +this act of separation to be accomplished in the most respectful +and honorable form for Josephine, and he therefore, with Cambaceres, +prepared and decided upon all the details of this public divorce. + +It only remained now to find some one who would announce to Josephine +her fate, who would communicate to her the emperor's determination. +Napoleon had not the courage to do it himself, and he wanted to confide +this duty to the Vice-King Eugene, whom for this purpose he had invited +to Paris. + +But Eugene declined to become a messenger of evil tidings to his +mother; and when Napoleon turned to Hortense, she refused to give to +her mother's heart the mortal stroke. The emperor, deeply touched by the +sorrow manifested by the children of Josephine, was not able to repress +his tears. He wept with them over their blasted happiness--their +betrayed love. But his tears could not make him swerve from his +resolution. + +"The nation has done so much for me," said he, "that I owe it the +sacrifice of my dearest inclinations. The peace of France demands that I +choose a new companion. Since, for many months, the empress has lived +in the torments of uncertainty, and every thing is now ready for a new +marriage, we must therefore come to a final explanation." [Footnote: +Lavalette, "Memoires," vol. ii., p. 44.] + +But as none could be found to carry this fatal news to Josephine, +Napoleon had to take upon himself the unwelcome task. + +Wearied with the tears of the slighted empress, with the reproaches of +his own conscience and with his own sufferings, Napoleon suddenly broke +the sad, gloomy silence which had been so long maintained between him +and his wife; in answer to her tears and reproaches, he told her that it +was full time now to arrive at a final conclusion; that he had resolved +to form new ties; that the interest of the state demanded from them both +an enormous sacrifice; that he reckoned on her courage and devotedness +to consent to a divorce, to which he himself acceded only with the +greatest reluctance. [Footnote: Thiers, "Histoire du Consulat," vol. +xi., p. 340.] + +But Josephine did not hear the last words. At the word divorce she +swooned with a death-like shriek; and Napoleon, alarmed at the sight of +her insensibility, called out to the officers in waiting to help him to +carry the empress into her rooms upon her bed. + +Such hours of despair, of bitter pain, of writhing, agonized love did +Josephine now endure! How courageous, yet how difficult, the struggle +against the wretchedness of a rejected love! How angrily and scornfully +she would rise up against her cruel fate! How lovingly, humbly, gently +she would acquiesce in it, as to a long-expected, inevitable fatality! + +These were long days of pain and distress; but Josephine was not alone +in her sufferings, for the emperor's heart was also touched with her +quiet endurance, and her deep agony at this separation. + +At last the empress came out victorious from these conflicts of heart +and soul, and she repressed her tears with the firm will of a noble, +loving woman! She bade her son Eugene announce to the emperor that she +assented to the divorce on two conditions: first, that her own offspring +should not be exiled or rejected, but that they should still remain +Napoleon's adopted children, and maintain their rank and position at his +court; secondly, that she should be allowed to remain in France, and, +if possible, in the vicinity of Paris, so that, as she said with a sweet +smile, she might be near the emperor, and still hope in the pleasure of +seeing him. + +Napoleon's countenance manifested violent agitation when Eugene +communicated to him his mother's conditions; for a long time he paced +the room to and fro, his hands behind his back, and unable to gather +strength enough to return an answer. Then, with a trembling voice, +he said that he not only granted all these conditions, but that they +corresponded entirely with the wishes of his heart, and that he would +add to them a third condition, namely, that Josephine should still be +honored and treated by him and by the world as empress, and that she +should still be surrounded with all the honors belonging to that rank. + +There was yet wanting, for the full offering of the sacrifice, the +public and solemn act of divorcement; but before that could take place +it was necessary to make the requisite preparations, to arrange the +future household of the divorced empress, and to prepare every thing for +Josephine's reception in Malmaison, whither she desired to retire +from the world. The mournful solemnity was put off until the 15th of +December, and until then Josephine, according to the rules of etiquette, +was to appear before the world as the ruling empress, the wife of +Napoleon. Twice it was necessary to perform the painful duty of +appearing publicly in all the pomp of her imperial dignity, and to wear +the heavy burden of that crown which already had fallen from her head. +On the morning of the 3d of December she had to be present at the +chanting of the Te Deum in Notre Dame, in thanksgiving for the peace +of Vienna, and to appear at the ball which the city of Paris that same +evening gave to the emperor and empress. + +This ball was the last festivity which Josephine attended as empress, +but even then she received not all the honors which were due to her +as such. Napoleon himself had given orders that the ladies of Paris, +gathered in the Hotel de Ville, with the wife of the governor of the +capital, and the Duchess d'Abrantes at their head, should not, as usual, +meet the empress at the foot of the stairs, but that they should quietly +await her approach in the throne-room, while the marshal of ceremonies +would alone accompany her up the stairs. + +The Duchess d'Abrantes, deeply affected by this order of the emperor, +which at once revealed the sad secret of the approaching future, had +reluctantly to submit to this arrangement, which so cruelly broke the +established etiquette. She has herself, in her memoirs, given full +particulars of this evening, and her words are so touching and so full +of sentiment that we cannot refuse to make them known here: + +"We, therefore," says she, [Footnote: Abrantes, "Memoires." vol. xii., +p. 289.] "ascended the throne-room, and were no sooner seated, than the +drums began to beat, and the empress entered. I shall never forget that +figure, in the costume which so marvellously suited her... never will +this gentle face, now wrapped in mourning crape, fade away from my +memory. It was evident that she was not prepared for the solitude which +she had found on the grand staircase; and yet Junot, in spite of the +risk of being blamed by the emperor, went to receive her, and he had +even managed that the empress should meet on the stairs a few ladies +who, it is true, did not very well know how they came and what they had +to do there. The empress, however, was not deceived; as she entered the +grand hall and approached the throne on which, in the presence of the +public of the capital, she was to sit probably for the last time....her +feet trembled and her eyes filled with tears. ....I tried to catch her +eyes; I would willingly have sunk at her feet and told her how much I +suffered....She understood me, and looked at me with the most agonizing +gaze which perhaps was ever in her eyes since that now blighted crown +had been placed on her head. That look spoke of agony--it revealed +depths of sorrow!... What must she have suffered on this awful +day!....She felt wretched, dying, and yet she smiled! Oh, what a torture +was that crown!... Junot stood by her. + +"'You were not afraid of Jupiter's wrath,' said I to him afterward. + +"'No,' said he, with a gloomy look, 'no, I fear him not, when he is +wrong....' + +"The drums beat a second time; they announced the emperor's approach.... +A few minutes after he came in, walking rapidly, and accompanied by the +Queen of Naples and the King of Westphalia. The heat was extraordinary, +though it was cold out of doors. The Queen of Naples, whose gracious, +charming smile seemed to demand from the Parisians the salutation, +'Welcome to Paris,' spoke to every one, and with the expression of +uncommon goodness. Napoleon, also, who wished to appear friendly, walked +up and down the room, talking and questioning, followed by Berthier, who +fairly skipped at his side, fulfilling more the duties of a chamberlain +than those of a connetable. A trifling circumstance in reference to +Berthier struck me. The emperor, who for some time had been seated on +his arm-chair near the empress, descended the steps of the throne to +go once more around the hall; at the moment he rose I saw him bend down +toward the empress, probably to tell her that she was to accompany +him. He rose up first; Berthier, who had stood behind him, rushed on to +follow his master; the empress was already standing up, when his feet +caught in the train of her mantle, and he nearly fell down, causing the +empress almost to fall. However, he disentangled himself, and, without +one word of excuse to the empress, he followed the emperor. Certainly +Berthier had not the intention to be wanting in respect to the empress; +but he knew the secret--he knew the whole drama soon to be performed.... +and assuredly he would not have so acted one year ago as he did +to-day..... The empress had remained standing with a marvellous dignity; +she smiled as if the accident was the result of mere awkward-ness.... +but her eyes were full of tears, and her lips trembled...." + +At last the 15th of December had come; the day on which Josephine was +to endure the most cruel agony of her life, the day on which she was +solemnly to descend from the throne and bid farewell to her whole +brilliant past, and commence a despised, lonely, gloomy future. + +In the large cabinet of ceremonies were gathered on this day, at noon, +the emperor, the Empress Josephine, the emperor's mother, the King and +Queen of Holland, the King and Queen of Westphalia, the King and Queen +of Naples, the Vice-king Eugene, the Princess Pauline Borghese, the +high-chancellor Cambaceres, and the secretary of civil affairs, St. Jean +d'Angely. Josephine was pale and trembling; her children were agitated, +and hiding their tears under an appearance of quietude, so as to instil +courage into their mother. + +Napoleon, standing upright, his hand in that of the empress, read with +tremulous voice: + +"My cousin, prince state-chancellor, I have dispatched you an order to +summon you hither into my cabinet for the purpose of communicating to +you the resolution which I and the empress, my much-beloved wife, have +taken. I am rejoiced that the kings, queens, and princesses, my brothers +and sisters, my brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, my daughter-in-law +and my son-in-law, who also is my adopted son, as well as my mother, are +here present to hear what I have to say. + +"The policy of my empire, the interest and wants of my people, direct +all my actions, and now demand that I should leave children heirs of the +love I have for my people, and heirs of this throne to which Providence +has exalted me. However, for many years past, I have lost the hope of +having children through the marriage of my beloved wife, the Empress +Josephine; and this obliges me to sacrifice the sweetest inclinations of +my heart, so as to consult only the welfare of the state, and for that +cause to desire the dissolution of my marriage. + +"Already advanced to my fortieth year, I still may hope to live long +enough to bring up in my sentiments and thoughts the children whom it +may please Providence to give me. God knows how much this resolution has +cost my heart; but there is no sacrifice too great for my courage if it +can be shown to me that such a sacrifice is necessary to the welfare of +France. + +"It is necessary for me to add that, far from having any cause of +complaint, I have, contrariwise, but to praise the devotedness and +affection of my much-beloved wife; she has embellished fifteen years +of my life; the remembrance of these years will therefore ever remain +engraven on my heart. She has been crowned at my hands; it is my will +that she retain the rank and title of empress, and especially that she +never doubt my sentiments, and that she ever hold me as her best and +dearest friend." + +When he came to the words "she has embellished fifteen years of my +life," tears started to Napoleon's eyes, and, with a voice trembling +through emotion, he read the concluding words. + +It was now Josephine's turn. She began to read the paper which had been +prepared for her: + +"With the permission of our mighty and dear husband, I must declare +that, whereas I can no longer cherish the hope of having children to +meet the wants of his policy and the wants of France, I am ready to give +the highest proof of affection and devotedness which was ever given upon +earth...." + +Josephine could proceed no further; sobs choked her voice. She tried to +continue, but her trembling lips could no more utter a word. She handed +to Count St. Jean d'Angely the paper, who, with tremulous voice, read as +follows: + +"I have obtained every thing from his goodness; his hand has crowned me, +and on the exaltation of this throne I have received only proofs of the +sympathy and love of the French people. + +"I believe it is but manifesting my gratitude for these sentiments when +I consent to the dissolution of a marriage which is an obstacle to the +welfare of France, since it deprives her of the happiness of being +one day ruled by the posterity of a great man, whom Providence has so +manifestly favored, as through him to bring to an end the horrors of +a terrible revolution, and to re-establish the altar, the throne, and +social order. The dissolution of my marriage will not, however, alter +the sentiments of my heart; the emperor will always find in me his most +devoted friend. I know how much this action, made incumbent upon him by +policy and by the great interests in view, has troubled his heart; but +we, the one and the other, are proud of the sacrifice which we offer to +the welfare of our country." + +When he had finished, Napoleon, visibly affected, embraced Josephine, +took her hand, and led her back to her apartments, where he soon left +her insensible in the arms of her children. [Footnote: Thiers, "Histoire +du Consulat," etc., vol. xi., p. 349.] + +Napoleon himself, sad and silent, returned to his cabinet, where, in a +state of complete exhaustion, he fell into an easy-chair. + +On the evening of the same day he again visited Josephine, to pass a few +hours with her in quiet, undisturbed communion; to speak in tenderness +and love of the future, to weep with her, and, full of deepest emotion +and sincerity, to assure her of his undying gratitude for the past, and +of his abiding friendship for the future. + +Josephine passed the night in tears, struggling with her heart, +sometimes breaking into bitter complaints and reproaches, which she +immediately repressed with that gentleness and mildness so much her own, +and with that love which never for a moment departed from her breast. + +There remained yet to perform the last, the most painful scene of this +great, tearful drama. Josephine had to leave the Tuileries; she had +forever to retire from the place which she so long had occupied at her +husband's side; she had to descend into the open grave of her mournful +abandonment; as a widow, to part with the corpse of her love and of the +past, and to put on mourning apparel for a husband who was not yet dead, +but who only rejected her to give his hand and his heart to another +woman. + +The next day at two o'clock, the moment had come for Josephine to leave +the Tuileries, to make room for the yet unknown wife of the future. +Napoleon wanted to leave Paris at the same moment, and pass a few days +of quiet and solitude in Trianon. + +The carriages of the emperor and empress were both ready; the last +farewell of husband and wife, now to part forever, had yet to be said. +M. de Meneval, who was the sole witness of those sad moments, gives of +them a most affecting description, which bears upon its face the merit +of truth and impartiality. + +"When it was announced to the emperor that the carriage was ready, he +stood up, took his hat, and said: 'Meneval, come with me.' + +"I followed him through the narrow winding stairs which led from his +room into that of the empress. She was alone, and seemed absorbed in +the saddest thoughts, At the noise we made in entering she rose up and +eagerly threw herself, sobbing, upon the neck of the emperor, who +drew her to his breast and embraced her several times; but Josephine, +overcome by excitement, had fainted. I hastened to ring for assistance. +The emperor, to avoid the renewal of a painful scene, which it was not +in his power to prevent, placed the empress in my arms as soon as he +perceived her senses return, and ordered me not to leave her, and then +he hurried away through the halls of the first story, at whose gate +his carriage was waiting. Josephine became immediately conscious of the +emperor's absence; her tears and sobs redoubled. Her women, who had +now entered, laid her on a sofa, and busied themselves with tender +solicitude to bring her relief. In her bewilderment she had seized my +hands, and urgently entreated me to tell the emperor not to forget her, +and to assure him of her devotedness, which would outlast every trial. +I had to promise her that at my arrival in Trianon I would wait upon the +emperor and see that he would write to her. It caused her pain to see +me leave, as if my departure tore away the last bond which united her to +the emperor. I left her, deeply affected by so true a sorrow and by so +sincere a devotion. During the whole journey I was deeply moved, and +could not but bewail the merciless political considerations which tore +violently apart the bonds of so faithful an affection for the sake +of contracting a new union, which, after all, contained but uncertain +chances. + +"In Trianon I told the emperor all that had happened since his +departure, and I conveyed to him the message intrusted to me by the +empress. The emperor was still suffering from the emotions caused by +this farewell scene. He spoke warmly of Josephine's qualities, of the +depth and sincerity of the sentiments she cherished for him; he looked +upon her as a devoted friend, and, in fact, he has ever maintained for +her a heart-felt affection. The very same evening he sent her a letter +to console her in her solitude. When he learned that she was sad and +wept much, he wrote to her again, complained tenderly of her want of +courage, and told her how deeply this troubled him." [Footnote: Meneval, +"Napoleon et Marie Louise.--Souvenirs Historiques," vol. i., pp. +230-232.] + +It is true Josephine's sorrow was bitter, and the first night of +solitude in Malmaison was especially distressing and horrible. But even +in these hours of painful struggle the empress maintained her gentleness +and mildness of character. Mademoiselle d'Avrillon, one of the ladies in +waiting, has given her testimony to that effect: + +"I was with the empress during the greater part of the night," writes +she; "sleep was impossible, and time passed away in conversation. +The empress was moved to the very depth of her heart; it is true, she +complained of her fate, but in expressions so gentle, in so resigned a +manner, that tears would come to her eyes. There was no bitterness +in her words, not even during this first night when the blow which +destroyed her, had fallen upon her; she spoke of the emperor with the +same love, with the same respect, as she had always done. Her grief +was most acute: she suffered as a wife, as a mother, and with all the +wounded sensitiveness of a woman, but she endured her affliction with +courage, and remained unchanged in gentleness, love, and goodness." +[Footnote: Avrillon, "Memoires," vol. ii., p. 166.] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. THE DIVORCED. + + +Josephine had accepted her fate, and, descending from the imperial +throne whose ornament she had long been, retired into the solitude and +quietness of private life. + +But the love and admiration of the French nation followed the empress to +Malmaison, where she had retreated from the world, and where the regard +and friendship, if not the love of Napoleon himself, endeavored to +alleviate the sufferings of her solitude. During the first days after +her divorce, the road from Paris to Malmaison presented as animated a +scene of equipages as in days gone by, when the emperor resided there +with his wife. All those whose position justified it, hastened +to Malmaison to pay their respects to Josephine, and through the +expressions of their sympathy to soften the asperities of her sorrow. +Doubtless many came also through curiosity, to observe how the empress, +once so much honored, endured the humiliation of her present situation. +Others, believing they would exhibit their devotedness to the emperor if +they should follow their master's example, abandoned the empress, as he +had done, and took no further notice of her. + +But the emperor soon undeceived the latter, manifesting his +dissatisfaction by his cold demeanor and repelling indifference toward +them, whilst he loudly praised all those who had exercised their +gratitude by visiting Malmaison, and in expressing their devotedness to +the empress. + +He himself went beyond his whole court in showing attention and respect +to Josephine. The very next day after their separation, the emperor went +to Malmaison to visit her, and to take with her a long walk through the +park. During the following days he came again, and once invited her and +the ladies of her new court to a dinner in Trianon. + +Josephine might have imagined that nothing had been altered in her +situation, and that she was still Napoleon's wife. But there were +wanting in their intercourse those little, inexpressible shades of +confidence which her exquisite tact and her instinctive feelings felt +yet more deeply than the more important and visible changes. + +When Napoleon came or went, he no longer embraced her, but merely +pressed her hand in a friendly manner, and often called her "madame" +and "you;" he was more formal, more polite to her than he had ever been +before. + +And then his daily visits ceased; in their place came his letters, it is +true, but they were only the letters of a friend, who tried to comfort +her in her misfortune, but took no sympathetic interest in her distress. + +Soon these letters became more rare, and when they did come they were +shorter. The emperor had to busy himself with other matters than with +the solitary, rejected woman in Malmaison; he had now to occupy his +thoughts with his young and beautiful bride--with Maria Louisa, the +daughter of the Emperor of Austria, who was soon to enter Paris as the +wife of Napoleon, the Emperor of France. + +Bitter and painful indeed were those first days of resignation for +Josephine; harsh and unsparing were the conflicts she had to fight with +her own heart, before its wounds could be closed, and its pains and its +humiliations cease to torment her! + +But Josephine had a brave heart, a strong will, and a resolute +determination to control herself. She conquered herself into rest and +resignation; she did not wish that the emperor, the happy bridegroom, +should ever hear of her red, weeping eyes, of her lamentations and +sighs; she did not wish that, in the golden cup which the husband of +the emperor's young daughter was drinking in the full joyousness of a +conqueror, her tears should commingle therein as drops of gall. + +She controlled herself so far as to be able with smiling calmness +to have related to her how Paris was celebrating the new marriage +festivities, how the new Empress of the French was everywhere received +with enthusiasm. She was even able to inquire, with an expression of +friendly sympathy, after Maria Louisa, the young wife of sixteen, +who had taken the place of the woman of forty-eight, and from whom +Josephine, in the sincerity of her love, required but one thing, namely, +to make Napoleon happy. + +When she was told that Napoleon loved Maria Louisa with all the passion +of a fiery lover, Josephine conquered herself so as to smile and thank +God that she had accepted her sacrifice and thus secured Napoleon's +happiness. + +But the emperor, however much he might be enamored of his young wife, +never forgot the bride of the past, the beloved one of his youth, of +whom he had been not only captivated, but whom he had loved from the +very depths of his soul. He surrounded her, though from a distance, with +attentions and tokens of affection; he would often write to her; and at +times, when his heart was burdened and full of cares, he would come to +Malmaison, and visit this woman who understood how to read in his face +the thoughts of his heart, this woman whose soft, gracious, and amiable +disposition--even as a tranquillizing and invigorating breeze after +a sultry day--could quiet his excited soul; to this woman he came for +refreshment, for a little repose, and sweet communion. + +It is true those visits of the emperor to his divorced wife were made +secretly and privately, for his second wife was jealous of the affection +which Napoleon still retained for Josephine; she listened with gloomy +attention to the descriptions which were made to her of the amiableness, +of the unwithered beauty of Josephine; and one day, after hearing that +the emperor had visited her in Malmaison, Maria Louisa broke out into +tears, and complained bitterly of this mortification caused by her +husband. + +Napoleon had to spare this jealous disposition of his young wife, for +Maria Louisa was now in that situation which France and its emperor had +expected and hoped from this marriage; she was approaching the time when +the object for which Napoleon had married her was to be accomplished, +when she was to give to France and the Bonaparte dynasty a legitimate +heir. It was necessary, therefore, to be cautious with the young +empress, and, on account of her interesting situation, it was expedient +to avoid the gloomy sulkiness of jealousy. + +By the emperor's orders, and under pain of the punishment of his wrath, +no one dared speak to Maria Louisa of the divorced empress, and Napoleon +avoided designedly to give her an occasion of complaint. He went no +longer to Malmaison; he even ceased corresponding with his former wife. + +Only once during this period he had not been able to resist the longing +of visiting Josephine, who, as he had heard, was sick. The emperor, +accompanied only by one horseman, rode from Trianon to Malmaison. At the +back gate of the garden he dismounted from his horse, and, without being +announced, walked through the park to the castle. No one had seen him, +and he was about passing from the front-room into the cabinet of +the empress by a side-door, when the folding-doors leading from this +front-room into the cabinet opened, and Spontini walked out. + +Napoleon, agitated and vexed at having been surprised, advanced with +imperious mien toward the renowned maestro, who was quietly approaching +him. + +"What are you doing here, sir?" cried Napoleon, with choleric +impatience. + +Spontini, however, returned the emperor's haughty look, and, measuring +him with a deep, flaming glance, asked, With a lofty assurance: "Sire, +what are you doing here?" + +The emperor answered not--a terrible glance fell upon the bold +maestro, without, however, annihilating him: then Napoleon entered into +Josephine's cabinet, and Spontini walked away slowly and with uplifted +head. + +Spontini, the famous composer of the "Vestals," whose score he had +dedicated to the Empress Josephine, remained after her divorce a true +and devoted admirer of the empress; and in Malmaison, as well as in the +castle of Navarra, he showed himself as faithful, as ready to serve, as +submissive, as he had once been in the Tuileries, or at St. Cloud, in +the days of Josephine's glory. He often passed whole weeks in Navarra, +and even undertook to teach the ladies and gentlemen of the court the +choruses of the "Vestals," which the empress so much liked. + +Josephine had, therefore, for the renowned maestro a heart-felt +friendship, and she took pleasure in boasting of the gratitude and +loyalty of Spontini, in contrast with the sad experiences she had made +of man's ingratitude. [Footnote: Memoires sur l'Imperatrice Josephine," +par Mlle. Ducrest," vol. i., p. 287.] + +The emperor, as already said, avoided to trouble his young wife by +exciting her jealousy; and though he did not visit Malmaison, though +for a time he did not write to Josephine, yet he was acquainted with the +most minute details of her life, and with all the little events of her +home; and he took care that around her every thing was done according +to the strictest rules of etiquette, and that she was surrounded by the +same splendor and the same ceremonies as when she was empress. + +At last the moment had come which was to give to Josephine her most +sacred and glorious reward. The cannon of the Invalides, with their one +hundred and one thunders, announced that Maria Louisa had given birth +to a son, and Prince Eugene was the first who brought this news to his +mother in Navarra. + +Josephine's countenance beamed with satisfaction and joy when she +learned from the lips of her son this news of the birth of the King of +Rome; she called her whole court together to communicate herself +this news to the ladies and gentlemen, and to have them listen to the +descriptions which Eugene, with all heartiness, was making of the +scenes which had taken place in the imperial family circle during the +mysterious hours of suspense and expectation. + +But when Eugene repeated the words of Napoleon's message which he sent +through him to Josephine, her countenance was illumined with joy and +satisfaction, and tears started from her eyes--tears of purest joy, of +most sacred love! + +Napoleon had said: "Eugene, go to your mother; tell her that I am +convinced no one will be more pleased with my happiness than she. I +would have written to her, but I should have had to give up the pleasure +of gazing at my son. I part from him only to attend to inexorable +duties. But this evening I will accomplish the most agreeable of all +duties--I will write to Josephine." [Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. +236.] + +The emperor kept his word. The same evening there came to Malmaison an +imperial page, with an autograph letter from Napoleon to Josephine. +The empress rewarded this messenger of glad tidings with a costly +diamond-pin, and then she called her ladies together, to show them the +letter which had brought so much happiness to her heart, and which also +had obscured her eyes with tears. + +It was an autograph letter of Napoleon; it contained six or eight lines, +written with a rapid hand; the pen, too hastily filled, had dropped +large blots of ink on the paper. In these lines Napoleon announced to +Josephine the birth of the King of Rome, and concluded with these words: +"This child, in concert with our Eugene, will secure the happiness of +France, and mine also." + +These last words were to Josephine full of delight. "Is it, then, +possible," exclaimed she, joyously, "to be more amiable and more tender, +thus to sweeten what this moment might have of bitterness if I did not +love the emperor so much? To place my son alongside of his is an act +worthy of the man who, when he will, can be the most enchanting of men." +[Footnote: Ducrest, vol. i., p. 238.] + +And this child, for which so much suffering had been endured, for which +she had offered her own life in sacrifice, was by Josephine loved even +as if it were her own. She was always asking news from the little King +of Rome, and no deeper joy could be brought to her heart than to speak +to her of the amiableness, the beauty, the liveliness of this little +prince, who appeared to her as the visible reward of the sacrifice which +she had made to God and to the emperor. + +One intense, craving wish did Josephine cherish during all these +years--she longed to see Napoleon's son; she longed to press to her +heart this child who was making her former husband so happy, and on +which rested all the hopes of France. + +Finally Napoleon granted her desire. Privately, and in all secrecy, for +Maria Louisa's jealousy was ever on the watch, and she would never have +consented to allow her son to go to her rival; without pomp, without +suite, the emperor took a drive with the little three-year-old King of +Rome to the pleasure-castle of Bagatelle, whither he had invited the +Empress Josephine through his trusty chamberlain Constant. + +Josephine herself has described her interview with the little King of +Rome in a very touching and affecting letter which she addressed the +next day to the emperor, and which contains full and interesting details +of the brief interview she had with the son of Maria Louisa. We cannot, +therefore, abridge this letter, nor deny ourselves the pleasure of +transcribing it: + +"Sire, although deeply moved by our interview of yesterday, and +preoccupied with the beautiful and lovely child you brought me, +penetrated with gratitude for the step taken by you for my sake, and +whose unpleasant consequences, I may well imagine, could fall only upon +you; I felt the most pressing desire to converse with you, to assure +you of my joy, which was too great to be at once exhibited in a suitable +manner. You, who to meet my wishes exposed yourself to the danger of +having your peace disturbed, will fully understand why I thus long to +acknowledge to you all the happiness your inestimable favor has produced +within me. + +"Truly, it was not out of mere curiosity that I wished to see the +King of Rome; his face was not unknown to me, for I had seen striking +portraits of him. Sire, I wanted to examine the expression of his +features, listen to the tone of his voice, which is so much like yours; +I wanted to see you--how you would caress the child, and then I longed +also to return to him the caresses which my son Eugene received from +you. If I recall to your remembrance how deaf my son was once to you, +it is that you should not be surprised at the partiality which I cherish +for the son of another, for it is your son, and you will find neither +insincerity nor exaggeration in feelings which you fully appreciate, +since you yourself have nurtured similar ones. + +"The moment I saw you enter with the little Napoleon in your hand +was undoubtedly one of the happiest of my eventful life. That moment +surpassed all the preceding ones, for never have I received from you a +stronger proof of your affection to me. It was no passionate love +which induced you to fulfil my wishes, but it was a sincere esteem +and affection, and these feelings are unchangeable, and this thought +completes my happiness. + +"It was not without trembling that I thought of the dissolution of our +marriage-ties, for it was reasonable for me to apprehend that a young, +beautiful wife, endowed also with the most enviable gifts, would soon +make you forget one who lacks all these advantages, and who then would +be far away from you. When I called to mind all the amiable qualities +possessed by Maria Louisa, I could not but tremble at the thought that +I should soon be indifferent to you, but surely I was then ignoring the +loftiness and generosity of your soul, which still preserves the memory +of its extraordinary devotedness, and of its tenderness toward me, a +devotedness and tenderness whose superabundance was proportioned to +those eminent qualities which have surprised Europe, and which cause you +to be admired by all those who come near you, and which even constrain +your enemies to render you justice! + +"Yes, I acknowledge to you, sire, you have once more found the means of +astonishing me, and to fill me with admiration, accustomed as I am to +admire you; and your whole conduct, so well suited to my position, the +solicitude with which you surround me, and finally the step you took +yesterday in my behalf, prove to me that you have far surpassed all the +favorable and charming impressions which I have ever cherished for you. + +"With what fondness I pressed the young prince to my heart! How his +face, radiant with health, filled me with delight, and how happy I was +to see him so amused and so contented as he watched us both! In fact, I +entirely forgot I was a stranger to this child; I forgot that I was not +his mother while partaking his sweet caresses. I then envied no man's +happiness; mine seemed far above all bliss granted to poor mortals +here below. And when the time came to part from him, when I had to tear +myself from this little being whom I had barely learned to know, I felt +in me a deep anguish, as deep as if all the sorrows of humanity had +pierced me through. + +"Have you, as I did, closely noticed the little commanding tone of your +son when he made known to me his wish that he wanted me to be in the +Tuileries with him? And then his little pouting mien when I answered +that this could not be? + +"'Why,' exclaimed he, in his own way, 'why, since papa and I wish it?' + +"Yes, this already reveals that he will understand how to command, and +I heartily rejoice to discern traits of character which, in a private +individual, might be pregnant with evil consequences, but which are +becoming to a prince who is destined to rule in a time that is so near a +long and terrible revolution. For after the downfall of all order, such +as we have outlived, a sovereign cannot hope to maintain peace in his +kingdom merely through mildness and goodness. The nation over which he +rules, and which yet stands on the hot soil of a volcano, must have the +assurance that crime no sooner lifts its head than swift punishment will +reach it. As you yourself have told me a thousand times: 'When once fear +has been instilled, one must not by arbitrariness, but through strict +impartiality, strive to be loved.' + +"You have often used your privilege of granting pardon, but you have +more frequently proved that you would not tolerate a violation of the +laws enacted by you. Thus you have subdued and mastered the Jacobins, +quieted the royalists, and satisfied the party of moderation. Your son +will now have your example before him, and, happier than you, will be +able to go further in manifesting clemency toward the guilty. + +"I had with him a conversation which establishes the deep sensitiveness +of his heart. + +"He was delighted with my charivari, and then he said to me: + +"'Ah, how beautiful that is! but if it were given to a poor man he would +be rich, would he not, madame?' + +"'Certainly he would,' I replied. "'Well, then,' said he, 'I have seen +in the woods a poor man; allow me to send for him. I have no money +myself, and he needs a good coat.' + +"'The emperor,' I replied, 'will find a pleasure in gratifying your +wishes. Why does not your imperial highness ask him for his purse?' + +"'I have asked him already, madame. He gave it to me when we left Paris, +and we have given all away. But as you look so good, I thought you would +do what was so natural.' + +"I promised to be useful to that poor man, and I will certainly keep my +word. I have given orders to my courier to find the unfortunate person, +and bring him to-morrow to Malmaison, where we will see what can be +done for him. For it will indeed be sweet for me to perform a good work +counselled by a child three years old. Tell him, I pray you, sire, that +this poor man is no longer poor! + +"I have thought you would be pleased to gather these details from a +conversation which passed between us in a low voice, while you were busy +at the other end of the drawing-room, examining an atlas. You will also +perceive by this, how fortunate it is for the King of Rome to have +a governess, who knows how to inspire him with such feelings of +compassion, the more touching that they are seldom found in princes. For +princes in general have been accustomed to a constant flattery, which +induces them to imagine that every thing in the world is for them, and +that they can entirely dismiss the duty of thinking about others. In +fact the eminent qualities of Madame de Montesquiou make her worthy of +the important and responsible charge you have committed to her care, and +the sentiments of the prince justify the choice you have made. Will +he not be good and benevolent, who is brought up by goodness and +benevolence themselves? + +"I am, however, afraid that his imperial highness, notwithstanding the +orders made to him by you, has spoken of this interview, which was to +remain secret. I recommended him not to open his mouth, and I assured +him that if any one knew that he had come to Bagatelle it would be +impossible for him to come here again. + +"'Oh, then, madame,' replied he, 'be not alarmed, I will say nothing, +for I love you; promise me, however, if I am obedient, to come soon and +visit me.' + +"Ah! I assured him, that I desired this more than he did himself, and I +have never spoken more truly. + +"Meanwhile, I am conscious that those interviews, which fill me with +extreme joy, cannot often be repeated, and I must not abuse your +goodness toward me by claiming your presence too often. The sacrifice +which I make to your mental quietude is another proof of my intense +desire to render you happy. This thought will comfort me while waiting +to be able to embrace my adopted son. Do you not find this exchange of +children very sweet? As regards myself, sire, what distresses me is, +that I can only give to your son this name, without being able to be +useful to him! And, again, how different is my position from that which +you held toward Eugene! The longer, the kinder you are to him, the less +can I show you my gratitude! However, I rely upon the vice-king that he +will be a comfort to you, amid the sorrows which your family causes you. +If, unfortunately, what you surmise about the King of Naples were to +happen, then Eugene would become still more useful to you than ever, and +I dare trust he would prove worthy of you by his conduct in war as well +as by his sincere devotedness to your service. + +"You have now received quite a long letter from me! The sentiment of +delight in talking about our two sons has carried me away, and this +sentiment will make me excusable for having so long intruded upon you. +As sorrow needs concentration, so joy needs expansion. This, sire, +explains this letter, long as a volume, and which I cannot close +with-out once more expressing my deepest gratitude. + +"JOSEPHINE." [Footnote: Ducrest, "Memoires," vol. iii., p. 294.] + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. DEATH. + + +Happy the man to whom it is granted to close a beautiful and worthy life +with a beautiful and worthy death! Happy Josephine, for whom it was not +reserved like the rest of the Bonapartes to wander about Europe seeking +for a refuge where they might hide themselves from the persecutions and +hatred of the princes and people! To her alone, of all the Napoleonic +race, was reserved the enviable fate to die under the ruins of the +imperial throne, whose fragments fell so heavily upon her heart as to +break it. + +For France the days of fear had come, for Napoleon the days of +vengeance. The nations of Europe had at last risen with the strength of +the lion that breaks his chains and is determined to obtain liberty by +devouring those who deprived him of it, and so those irritated nations +had with the power of their wrath forced their princes, who had been so +obediently submissive to Napoleon, to declare war and to fight against +him for life or death. + +The conflicts, battles, and endless victories of the constantly defeated +Austrians, Prussians, Russians, and English, belong to history--this +everlasting tribunal where the deeds of men are judged, and where they +are written on its pages to be for ages to come as lessons and examples +of warning and encouragement. + +Josephine, the lonely and rejected one, had nothing to do with those +fearful events which shook France; she played no active part in the +great drama which was performed before the walls of Paris, and which +closed with the fall of the hero whom she had so warmly and so truly +loved. + +Josephine, during those days of horror and of decisive conflicts, was in +her pleasure-castle of Navarra. Her daughter, Queen Hortense, with her +two sons, Napoleon Louis and Louis Napoleon, was with her. There she +learned the treachery of the marshals, the capitulation of Marmont, the +surrender of Paris, and the entrance of the foreign foe into the capital +of France. + +But where was Napoleon? Where was the emperor? Did Josephine know +anything of him? Why did he not come to the rescue of his capital, and +drive the foe away? + +Such were the questions which afflicted Josephine's heart, and to +which the news, finally re-echoed through Paris, gave her the fearful +response. + +Napoleon had come too late, and when he had arrived in Fontainebleau +with the remnants of the army defeated by Blucher, he learned there that +Marmont had capitulated, and that the allies had already entered Paris, +and all was lost. + +The deputies of the senate and Napoleon's faithless marshals came from +Paris to Fontainebleau to require from him that he should resign his +crown, and that he should save France by the sacrifice of himself +and his imperial dignity. These men, lately the most humble, devoted +courtiers and flatterers of Napoleon, who owed to him everything--name, +position, fortune, and rank--had now the courage to approach him with +lofty demeanor and to request of him to depart into exile. + +Napoleon, overcome by all this misfortune and treachery which fell upon +him, did what they required of him. He abdicated in favor of his son, +and left Paris, left France, to go to the small island of Elba, there to +dream of the days which had been and of the days which were coming, when +he would regain his glory and his emperor's crown. + +Amid the agonies, cares, and humiliations of his present situation, +Napoleon thought of the woman whom he had once named the "angel of his +happiness," and who he well knew would readily and gladly be the angel +of his misfortune. Before leaving Fontainebleau to retire to the island +of Elba, Napoleon wrote to Josephine a farewell letter, telling her +of the fate reserved for him, and assuring her of his never-ending +friendship and affection. He sent this letter to the castle of Navarra +by M. de Maussion, and the messenger of evil tidings arrived there in +the middle of the night. + +Josephine had given orders that she should be awakened as soon as any +one brought news for her. She immediately arose from her bed, threw a +mantle over her shoulders, and bade M. de Maussion come in. + +"Does the emperor live?" cried she, as he approached. "Only answer me +this: does the emperor live?" + +Then, when she had received this assurance, after reading Napoleon's +letter, and learning all the sad, humiliating news, pale, and trembling +in all her limbs, she hastened to her daughter Hortense. + +"Ah, Hortense," exclaimed she, overcome and falling into an arm-chair +near her daughter's bed, "ah, Hortense, the unfortunate Napoleon! They +are sending him to the island of Elba! Now he is unhappy, abandoned, +and I am not near him! Were I not his wife I would go to him and +exile myself with him! Oh, why cannot I be with him?" [Footnote: Mlle. +Cochelet, "Memoires," vol. ii.] + +But she dared not! Napoleon, knowing her heart and her love, had +commissioned the Duke de Bassano expressly to tell the Empress Josephine +to make no attempt to follow him, and "to respect the rights of +another." + +This other, however, had not been pleased to claim the right which +Josephine was to respect. Napoleon left Fontainebleau on the 21st of +April, 1814, to go to the island of Elba. It was his wish to meet there +his wife and his son. But Maria Louisa did not come; she did not obey +her husband's call; she descended from the imperial throne, and was +satisfied to be again an archduchess of Austria, and to see the little +King of Rome dispossessed of country, rank, father, and even name. The +poor little Napoleon was now called Frank--he was but the son of the +Archduchess Maria Louisa; he dared not ask for his father, and yet +memory ever and ever re-echoed through his heart the sounds of other +days; this memory caused the death of the Duke de Reichstadt, the son of +Napoleon. + +Napoleon had gone to Elba, and there he waited in vain for Maria Louisa, +to fill whose place Josephine would have gladly poured her heart's +blood. + +But she dared not! she submitted faithfully and devotedly to Napoleon's +will. To her he was, though banished, humiliated, and conquered, still +the emperor and the sovereign; and her tearful eyes gazed toward the +solitary island which to her would have been a paradise could she but +have lived there by the side of her Napoleon! + +But she had to remain in France; she had sacred duties to perform; she +had to save out of the wreck of the empire at least something for her +children! For herself she wanted nothing, she desired nothing; but the +future of her children had to be secured. + +Therefore, Josephine gathered all her courage; she pressed her hands on +the mortal wounds of her heart, and kept it still alive, for it must not +yet bleed to death; her children yet claimed her care. + +Josephine, therefore, left the castle of Navarra for that of Malmaison, +thus fulfilling the wishes of the Emperor Alexander, who desired to know +Josephine's wishes in reference to herself and to her children, and who +sincerely wished to become acquainted with her, that he might offer her +his homage, and transfer to her the friendship he once cherished for +Napoleon. + +Josephine received in Malmaison the first visit of Alexander, and +from this time he came every day, to the great grief of the returned +Bourbons, who felt bitterly hurt at the homage thus publicly offered +before all the world by the conqueror of Napoleon to the divorced +Empress Josephine, who, in the eyes of the proud Bourbons, was but the +widow of General de Beauharnais. + +Notwithstanding this, the rest of the princes of the victorious allies +followed the example of Alexander. They all came to Malmaison to visit +the Empress Josephine; so that again, as in the days of her imperial +glory, she received at her residence the conquerors of Europe, and saw +around her emperors and kings. The Emperor Alexander, with his brothers; +the King Frederick William, with his sons; the Duke of Coburg, and +many others of the little German princes, were guests at her table, +and endeavored, through the respect they manifested to her, and the +expressions of their esteem and devotedness, to turn away from her the +sad fate which had come upon all the Bonapartes. + +But her heart was mortally wounded. "I cannot overcome the fearful +sadness which has seized me," said she to Mlle. Cochelet, the friend +of her daughter Hortense; "I do all I can to hide my cares from my +children, but I suffer only the more." [Footnote: Mlle. Cochelet. +"Memoires," vol. ii.] + +"You will see," said she to the Duchess d'Abrantes, who had visited her +at Malmaison, "you will see that Napoleon's misfortune will cause my +death. My heart is broken--it will not be healed." [Footnote: Abrantes, +"Memoires," vol. xvii.] + +She was right, her heart was broken, it would not be healed! It seemed +at first but merely an indisposition which seized the empress, and which +obliged her to decline the announced visit of the Emperor Alexander, +nothing but a slight inflammation of the neck, accompanied by a little +fever. But the disease increased hour after hour. On the 27th of May, +Josephine was obliged to keep her bed; on the 29th her sufferings in +the neck were so serious that she nearly suffocated, and her fever had +become so intense that she had but few moments of consciousness. In her +fancy she often called aloud for Napoleon, and the last word which her +dying lips uttered was his name. + +Josephine died on the 29th of May, 1814. That love which had illumined +her life occasioned her death, and will sanctify her name for ever as +with a saintly halo. + +She was buried on the 2d of June in the church at Rueil. It was a solemn +funeral procession, to which all the kings and princes assembled in +Paris sent their substitutes in their carriages; but the most beautiful +mourning procession which followed her to the grave were the tears, +the sighs of the poor, the suffering of the unfortunate, for all whom +Josephine had been a benefactress, a good angel, and who lost in her a +comforter, a mother. + +In the church of Rueil, Eugene and Hortense erected a monument to their +mother; and when in 1837 Queen Hortense, the mother of the Emperor +Napoleon III., died at Arenenberg, her corpse was, according to her last +wishes, brought to Rueil and laid at her mother's side. Her son erected +there a monument to her; and this son, the grandchild of Josephine, is +now the Emperor of the French, Napoleon III. Josephine's sacrifice has been in vain. Napoleon's dynasty, for +whose sake she sacrificed happiness, love, and a crown, has not been +perpetuated through the woman to whom Josephine was sacrificed--not +through Maria Louisa, who gave to France and to the emperor a son, but +through the daughter of Josephine, who gave to Napoleon more than a son, +her love, her heart, and her life! + +Providence is just! Upon the throne from which the childless empress was +rejected, sits now the grandchild of Josephine, and his very existence +demonstrates how vain are all man's calculations and desires, and how +like withered leaves they are carried away and tossed about by the +breath of destiny! + +It was not the emperor's daughter who perpetuated Napoleon's dynasty, +but the widow of General Beauharnais, Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie. + +Josephine, therefore, is avenged in history; she was also avenged +in Napoleon's heart, for he bitterly lamented that he had ever been +separated from her. "I ought not to have allowed myself to be separated +from Josephine," said he, a short time before his death in St. +Helena, "no, I ought not to have been divorced from her; that was my +misfortune!" + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Empress Josephine, by Louise Muhlbach + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE *** + +***** This file should be named 4226.txt or 4226.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/2/4226/ + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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