Class __J_QiSiL^ Book ■/ J 6 to ? Copyiigtit'N?-. . COPlOilCHT DEPOSm ^<^>NVS^- c^--^^'^-'^'^.- '-Iki MSW^Qia K.- SHELDON & COMPANY. THE NAPOLEON DYNASTY A HISTOET OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY, BROUGHT DOWN TO THE PRESENT TIME. BY THE BEEKELEY MEK (C. EDWARDS LESTER.) WITH TWENTY-THREE AUTHENTIC PORTRAITS. /-W NEW YORK: ^HELDON & COMPANY, No. 677 BROADWAY. 1873. Entered, according to Act of Congress, A D. 1873, by SHELDON & CO., In the Oflace of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. PUBLISHERS' ADVERTISEMENT. It has been often remarked in Europe, that if an impartial History of Napoleon and his Times should ever be written, it would come from America. The object of this publication is to furnish such a work. In its preparation, brilliant and expe- rienced pens have been engaged ; and we have spared no ex- pense in making the appearance of the book worthy rf the splendor of the subject. From the public Archives of our own and Foreign States, and from members of the Bonaparte Family on both sides of the Atlantic, valuable authentic materials have been obtained, which are here for the first time brought to light; Especial care has been bestowed on the portraits, all of which have been taken from original sources, and some of which have never before been engraved. This new edition of the Napoleon Dynasty, brought down to the present time, is, therefore, submitted to the candid criticism of the public, as the only complete work on the subject which has ever been published. The great sale which this book has heretofore had, having sold in all up to this time about sixty thousand copies, proves that it has taken its deserved place as a standard work on a very important subject. New York, Januar}', 1873. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1873. Just as the coup d'etat of December, 1851, had chilled the blood of one class of mankind, and breathed through the hearts of millions of others the inspiration of fresh hope — when to the one class the Euler of France had emerged from the blood of usurpation to despotic power, and curses from all the reactionists and destructionists of the world had been hurled at his head — when France was yibrating, as she often had, between the bold act of one man to save, or the anarchy of a Nation to destroy, and the Statesmen of Europe were waiting to see, not what they would do with France, but what France would do with them — at that period, this work was written. Genial and active as were our American sympathies with the French people, the alleged usurpation of Louis Napoleon brought an all but universal ignominy upon his name. Few Americans were found "so poor as to do him reverence." From a close study of the man and the chief members of the Bonaparte family, and such a familiarity with the affairs of France and Europe as a long residence there could give, the writer looked through somewhat different eyes upon that strange panorama so unexpectedly opened upon the startled attention of the Nations. With a proper regard for an impartial hearing by his coun- trymen, the author chose to place his name under the protect- ing shield of tlie Berheley Men. The authorship is now avowed : and the record of the dead Emperor is continued by the same hand. I was his historian, not his eulogist while he was living, and before he became Emperor. And once more, when the star of the Napoleon Dynasty has not only gone into another deep eclipse, but Nar iY PREFACE. poleon's throne has vanished into thin air, as his body has to ashes, in this extreme moment of his fate, I take the same his- toric pen to end his history by his tomb at Chiselhurst, that I held when I began his record in 1851. Critics did not allege, I believe, that I had written a partial, or flattering life of any member of the Bonaparte family. They had the better chance to judge of the case since the authorship was unknown. Even the reviewers of England and France conceded to the work candor and impartiality. And while Louis Napoleon himself must have found in the book much that a more partial pen might have erased, he addressed the fol- lowing letter to the author, which is now for the first time made public : HOUSE OF THE PRINCE PRESIDENT PARIS, llth September, 1851. OP THE REPUBLIC. LiBKARiEs, Sciences, Fine Akts, Literature. Monsieur — I felt deeply interested on receiving, and calling the attention of the President of the Republic, to the splendid volume which you have done him the courtesy to send, and he has charged me to address to you his thanks. The work — The Napoleon- Dynasty— is by no means a simple array of biographical documents ; it is a history of a great family, and of a great name, written with as much impar- tiality as nobleness. The Prince, whose life and ideas you have so well unfolded, did not expect to be judged throughout with so much equity ; and the thought is sweet to him that this justice has come from a People which knows better than all others the duties which are imposed by love of Country, and respect for Liberty. I am happy, Monsieur, to assure you of his sentiments, which are those of gratitude and sympathy. Eeceive, I pray you, the assurance of my distinguished con- sideration. J. Le Terre Deumier. Monsieur C. Edwards Lester, New York. CONTENTS. BOOK I. Origin of the Bokapartes— Lives of Carlo, Letitia, and pages CARDmAL Fesch, 1-47 BOOK II. The Emperor Napoleon, 49-219 The Empress Josephine, BOOK m. BOOK IV. The Empress Maria Louisa, . BOOK V. Joseph Bonaparte — King of Naples and Spain, 221-314 315-328 S29-395 BOOK VI. LuciEN Bonaparte— Prince op Canino, 897-415 BOOK VII. Louis Bonaparte — King of Holland, Queen Hortense, BOOK VIII. Jerome Bonaparte — King op Westphalia, Napoleon's Sisters— Eliza, Pauline, .... Caroline, .... Eugene Beauharnais, Napoleon Francis Joseph — Duke of Reichstadt, 417-431 432-444 445-466 467-470 471-477 478-483 483-489 490^92 BOOK IX. Joachim Murat — King op Naples, 493-532 BOOK X. Louis Napoleon — President of the French Republic and Emperor of France, ..... 533-636 PORTRAITS PAGE Emperor Napoleok, . . . . ; Frontispiece. Kttstg of Rome, ..... Vignette. Caklo, .... . 15 Letitia, .... . 20 Cardinal Fesch, .33 The First CoNSUii, . 116 Josephine, . 223 Maria Louisa, . . 317 Joseph Bonaparte, . 331 LuciEN Bonaparte, . . • . . 399 ^Louis Bonaparte, . 419 HoRTENSE— Queen of Holland, - . 432 Jerome Bonaparte, . . 447 Elizabeth Patterson, . 451 Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, . 457 Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte (U.S.A.), . 460 Eliza— Grand Duchess of Tuscany, . 467 Pauline— Princess Borghese, . 471 Caroline— Queen of Naples, ^ . 478 Eugene Beauharnais, . 483 Joachim Murat, . 495 Louis Napoleon, . . . . 533 Eugenie, . . . . 625 BOOK I. THE ORIGIN OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. ORIGIN OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. I. A Bonaparte again rules France. The results of tlie late Revolution, have invested the character and history of Napoleon with a new and deeper interest. Twice the Bourbons have gone down, and left a Republic in France, — and twice that Republic has given way to the Napoleon Dynasty. The struggle may not yet be over, but there are more Bonapartes than Bourbons living to main- tain it. Something greater than stars watched over the birth of Napoleon, and a power higher than fortune guides the desti- nies of the Bonaparte Family. No one's history has been written by so many different hands, no one's history read by so many eyes, as the Corsican Soldier's. Not a generation has passed away since he died, and his name and his history, are familiarly known to more men to-day, than Alexander's or Caesar's. II. No man has ever put forth such influence on human for- tunes. Men and nations bent before him, as willows bend when the storm sweeps by. It exhausted and impoverished all Europe to crush him. They chained the Eagle to the bald cliff of a volcanic rock of the ocean, among the clouds — • 10 THE OBJECT OF THIS HISTOET. and six years England kept a fleet to watch him, and see him chafe and die ; and then they opened his body and took out his vitals, and were sure he was dead — and then they excavated a grave in the rock, and welded his coffin in by strong bars of iron, and then they watched the place for twenty years. And when at last Europe was no longer afraid of the dead Eagle's ashes, she let France take them back to the banks of the Seine. They had stolen the young Eagle from the parent nest, and carried him away among strangers, where he pined, sickened, and died. Europe then thought she could breathe free again. III. But a Bonaparte still rules France. There is something in all this worthy of a more careful survey than history has yet given. — We have long wondered there was no complete history of the Bonaparte Family. We at last resolved to attempt one ourselves. So much for the occasion of this book — Its object is to furnish in a single volume, authentic biographies of the principal members of the Bonaparte Family. To gather and arrange from many volumes into one, valuable, rare and interesting materials now floating on the turbid ocean of Modern History — beyond the reach of all but the adventurous, the curious,, or the learned. Those whose studies have not led them along the same track, will discover in these biographies, how unfounded is the opinion so commonly entertained, that Napoleon was the only extraordinary member of his family. They were all so gifted by nature, they could have achieved emi- nence on any road of life ; and their individual energies and accomplishments, raised barriers, and reflected lustre on THE ROMAN POWER. li Napoleon's throne. Each one's history is worthy of the careful pen of the historian, while the whole family const! tute the most brilliant and attractive group of contemporary kinsmen we have any knowledge of. We have endeavored to draw each portrait with distinctness and individuality ; and trace the development of each one's character at a separate and peculiar growth without losing sight of the dependence of each branch on the gigantic trunk which sustained them all. IV. It should not be forgotten that the Bonaparte Family sprang from Italian soil. That wonderful peninsula has been the fruitful source of genius, and Empire, for nearly thirty centuries. Whatever light the world has had, sprang from the Hebrews, the Greeks, or the Italians. The last represent them all. And thus we owe to them not our New World only but all we are and all we hope to be. Italy no longer governs the world by arms, but she still asserts her dominion of ideas. The intellect and the institutions of modern times have been moulded by the genius of Italy. Long before the shores of the Tiber were disturbed by the hum of the City of Romulus, the Phoenicians made Etruria the gem of Europe and the garden of Italy. The industrious excavations of recent years have disentombed the wondrous fruits of their Ante-Roman civilization. Then rose the structure of Roman power slow and sturdy in its growth — ^irresistible in its progress and lasting in ita existence. — first under the kings, during which period the State was striking its roots down into the soil ; and nurturing the Herculean power which afterwards enfolded and held the world. 12 THE SUrREMACY OF ITALY. When the rude energy of early Roman valor had been somewhat tamed by culture, and the multitude would no longer bow to a single will, the Commonwealth took the place of the Monarchy. Conquest extended the domains of the State ; Commerce spread its white wings over the Medi- terranean ; Greece fell into the arms of Rome with her priceless dower of immortal learning ; Carthage became a ruin and left Rome without a Rival^and. at last when her proportions had become too colossal for the simplicity of a Republic, she assumed the Imperial form. V. At the time of the Saviour, Rome had absorbed the world. It was the focal point of learning — it was the centre of in- fluence for all civilized men. In the Augustan age, Rome summed up all there was of human progress the race had made since Adam. She needed nothing but the new light just breaking over Bethlehem, and this was soon to radiate her — The altars of the Pantheon, then smoking to the di- vinities of mythology, were to send up their incense to the Founder of a New Religion — the Romulus of a kingdom whose emblem dove of Peace has unfolded its wings over empires where Cesar's eagles never flew. This the new element of power that was to put forth so vast an influence on the fate of men — and slowly work the dissolution of the Roman Empire — thus emancipating a hun- dred nations — was early seized hold of by the grasping hand of Rome, and as the crumbling Castle of the Cesars fell, there emerged from the smoking ruin the dim, fearful form of the Hierarchy ; a Spiritual Empire more formidable, more universal, more vast, than that of Aur clean — for it controlled the consciences as well as the bodies of men, and the fortunes of Kingdoms. Julius Cesar and all the Cesarg WHAT ITALr HAS DOXE FOR THE WORLD. 13 were dead — but the ferocity of the Northern Barbarians which the Roman Legions could neither resist nor tame, was subdued by the Cross. Europe has for ages attempted to shake off this terrible power — and Revolution has followed Revolution — and Governments and Emperors and Chieftains have risen and been overthrown — but the power of the Roman Hierarchy is still unbroken — Rome still asserts her empire over the world. Every power that has ever grap- pled with her has been overthrown — from Rienzi to Napo- leon. The Popes are driven away by Barbarians — exiled to Avignon — carried captive to Paris — fly to Gaeta — But they always go back to Rome ! — Close by and apparently as eternal as the tomb of St. Peter, or the Arch of Titus — a Pope still sits. VI. Then came the Justinian Code — after the temporal power of Rome Avas broken, and the barbarian had made a manger for his steed in the Golden House of Nero. The spear had fallen from the hands of the legions — but Roman genius still made laws for the world. Then came the Republics with the institution of the modern system of States ; the new and humane reign of Commerce with its great dis- coveries — the Revival of Letters and the glorious triumphs of the Arts which adorn and bless the world. The Medici gave us Commerce — Columbus and Yespucius, a new world — Galileo and Vico, Yolta and Galvani, Science — Machiavelli, the Philosophy of Government — Dante and Petrarch, Tasso and Alfieri, Poetry — Justinian, Laws — Genoa, Amalfi, Pisa, Florence and Venice, Republican Institutions — Michael An- gelo, Raphael, Titian, and Da Yinci, Arts — So, too, when Europe required regeneration, Italy — that "Niobe of Na- tions" — still asserted her prerogative and sent forth one of ber own children, to open a new age. 14 THE ISLAXD OF CORSICA. And so for 2500 years tlie fountain of Empire has been welling up from the seven hills. There was the semblance of truth in the solemn epithet which we usually ascribe to the vanity of its citizens — Rome was, and is still the Eternal City. YII. From the castle-crowned hills above the terraced gardens of Genoa, the purple summits of Corsica can be seen, on a clear Italian morning, rising out of the sea. Solitary, grand and beautiful, it seems a fitting birth-place for one who was to overshadow the world, and die at last like a wounded eagle on another lone Island of the Ocean. Geographically, and ethnologically, Corsica belongs to Italy. It was probably first peopled from its neighboring shores, and the inhabitants still speak a dialect so much like the Tuscan, they can be readily understood in every part of Italy. YIII. The earliest mention of Corsica is found in Herodotus. The Romans invaded the Island and wrested it from the Carthagenians in the first Punic War. Once subjected to Rome, it remained her province during the Commonwealth and under the Caesars, till it yielded, from its exposed situa- tion to the first shock of the Barbarians in the beginning of the Fifth Century of the Christian era. It subsequently passed under the dominion of the Byzantine Emperors, it became the prey of the Goths, and it fell before the irre- sistible onset of the followers of the Arabian Prophet, [A. D. 850.] It yielded afterwards to Pisa, then the powerful rival of Genoa and Venice, and finally became a dependency of tlie Ligurian Republic, [A. D. 1284], which resumed its ancient independence after the Fall of the Roman Empire- repelled all the assaults of the Barbarians — went gloriouslv CARLO BONAPARTE. CORSICA CEDED TO FRANCE. ^ 15 through the Crusades — became the most formidable maritime power in Europe — sent out the Discoverer of a New World —preserved Republican Institutions 1400 years, and was be- trayed at last by the perfidy of an English Commander. IX. Corsica had long excited the ambition of the French Monarchs. It was invaded in 1T67, and two years later, by cession from the Genoese, it passed reluctantly under the dominion of France. The lover of historic romance and chivalric adventure, will read with delight the stirring story of the noble struggles of the patriot Paoli, to rescue his native Island from the French invaders. Corsica is nearly the size of Connecticut. Thrown up by some pre-Adamic convulsion, and bathed by the Mediterra- nean ; refreshed by the cool breezes of the Alps and Appe- nines, and warmed by a southern sun ; with mountain-peahs (8-9000 feet) clothed in eternal snows, and valleys blushing in endless summer, it is one of the wildest fairy-spots in the world. X. CARLO BONAPARTE, Born at Ajaccio, March 29th., 1746=-died at Montpelier, 1785. The family of Carlo Bonaparte held a high rank m Corsica. They had been long settled in Tuscany, where they became distinguished for the parts they took with the Ghibelines in their ferocious feuds with the Guelphs, which so long desolated Italy. On the dispersion of the family one of the members settled in Corsica, and from him Napoleon was directly descended. It is also satisfactorily established that the Tuscan Bonapartes had emigrated from Rome at an early period ; and no physiognomist can look carefully on 16 CARLO BONAPARTE. Napoleon's face without recognizing tlie Patrician Koman model — by which we mean the blending of the Roman with the Greek. The further the scholar here extends his re- searches, the more he will be inclined to concede an original Greek origin to the Bonaparte Family. Traces are not wanting of their political eminence in the Middle Ages. They were Senators in the Republics of Florence, Sarzana, Bologna, and Treviso, and Prelates at the Court of the Vatican. They had become allied by marriage with the princely families of the Medici, Orsini, and Lomellini. XI. Some of the Bonapartes also became distinguished for their contributions to learning at the Period of the Revival of Letters. In the Bihliotheque du Roi the Parisians still boast of possessing the original MS. of a dramatic work by Piccolo Bonaparte — who is spoken of by Italian Au- thorities as one of the literary stars of the Age of the Medici. Another member of the family founded, it is said, the Chair of Jurisprudence in the University of Pisa, and when Napoleon himself entered Bologna — that ancient seat of learning in 1796, the Senate sent him their " Golden Book," in which the names and arms of his family were in- scribed. The armorial bearings of some of his ancestors, sculptured in marble are still found on several of the* Flo- rentine buildings. When Napoleon had become master of the Peninsula, and was passing through Tuscany, he haltei for a few hours with his staff, at the dwelling of Gregoric Bonaparte, the last of his race in Italy. The aged Canoi of San Miniato, a rich and venerable man, entertained the victorious Cortege with the good cheer, which an Italian monk knows so well how to provide. The next day Napoleon sent him the Cross of St. Stephen. Soon after, YOUTH AND MARRIAGE OF CARLO. 17 the good Abb© died and left his fortune to Napoleon who presented it to one of the charities of Tuscany. XIT. The grandfather of Carlo Bonaparte had three Sons- Joseph, Napoleon and Lucien. The only son of the first was Carlo — the only child of the second was a daughter — • the third was a priest, who died in 1791, Archdeacon of Ajaccio. Carlo thus became the only representative of his family in Corsica. He was educated at Pisa and Rome, and received the degree of Doctor of Laws, He returned home with the graces of youth and eloquence ; he was tall, hand- some, learned and accomplished ; and at the early age of nineteen he won the heart of Letitia Ramolini, the descend- ant of a noble Neapolitan family on the Island. She was distinguished for her eminent beauty, her great intelligence and her indomitable energy. When the war broke out between France and Corsica in 1768; he gave his services to Paoli, in a zealous defence of the independence of his country. The occupation of Ajaccio by the French troops drove the Bonaparte family to the centre of the Island, where Carlo, in following the fortunes of Paoli, held out till his patriot leader was obliged to fly. Carlo accom- panied him to Porto Yecchio, and his youthful enthusiasm tempted him for a moment to embark with him. XIII. But Corsica yielded to the French king, and was at once ncorporated into the domain of Louis. The Magistracy of the Island was vested in the Provincial States, and the lionor of the twelve Nobles was confirmed. The nobility of Carlo's family and his own position and popularity, gave him a prominent place in the Government. He was appointed 18 CARLO BONAPARTE. Assessor to the tribunal of Ajaccio ai d swayed great in fluence in the Councils of the Island. In 1779, he was ap- pointed by his colleagues deputy for the Nobles, at Paris. He took Joseph and Napoleon, his two sons, with him. He left Joseph, the elder, at the School of Autun — and placed Napoleon in the Military Academy at Brienne— having obtained the appointment through the favor of his friend, the Count Marboeuf, the Governor of Corsica. XIV. It should have been said that while Carlo was passing through Florence on his way to Paris, he received from the Grand Duke Leopold a letter to his sister Marie Antoinette, queen of France, and he became a guest at the palace of Yerseilles, from whose gilded halls poor Marie herself was afterwards to fly by night in terror from the mob, and where, had Carlo lived a few years longer, he would have been the guest of his son, the Emperor. In the year 1785, [at the early age of 38, and the father of a race of kings]. Carlo died at Montpelier in France, whither he had resorted for medical aid. But his disease, [a cancer in the stomach, often hereditary in families and which was to prove fatal to Napoleon himself], baffled the skill of his physicians. XV. Napoleon at St. Helena gave the following account of hia father's death — " I was quietly pursuing my studies at Brienne when my father arrived at Montpelier, to struggle with the violence of a painful agony. He died, and I had not the consolation to close his eyes." — The mother of Ju- not's wife, a gentle and high-bred woman and a companion in girlhood of Letitia Ramolini, offered the hospitality of her 19 house to the dying man, and lie breathed his last — not at a strange inn — but under the kind roof of a countrywoman, ministered to in his last illness by the filial attentions of his eldest son, and the consolations of the brother of his wife, [afterwards Cardinal Fesch.] He recommended to her ear- nestly his son Napoleon, who had just left Brienne for the Military School at Paris. So faithfully did she fulfill the bequest that years afterwards. Napoleon offered and pressed upon her his hand in marriage, notwithstanding the dispar- ity of their ages. After Napoleon had became First Consul, the City of Montpelier asked his permission to erect a Monument to his father. With many thanks he declined the request — " Let us not disturb," said he, " the repose of the dead. Let their ashes remain in peace. Had I lost my father yesterday, it would be proper and natural to pay his memory some token of respect consistent with my present position ; but it is nearly twenty years since his death, and it is a matter in which the public can now take no concern." Louis Bonaparte, however, at a later period, without the knowledge of his brother, removed the ashes of his father to St. Leu, on his own estate near Paris, and over them erected a monument. XVI. His tomb will in all time to come be worthy of resort as me of the remarkable places of Europe. If the curious traveler stops a day to look into the sepulchre where Rudolf de Hapsburg mouldered to ashes, why should he not halt an hour to contemplate the tomb of the Father of the Napoleon Dynasty ? XVII. LETITIA RAMOLINI, Born at Ajaccio, 24t;h August, 1750— died at Eome, February 2d., 1836. The motlier of Napoleon, was worthy of the honor fortune assigned her, of giving birth to a Dynasty of the People. The sceptres of Europe were held by the degene- rate descendants of the military Chieftains of the Middle Ages. They were characterized by the tyranny of their ancestors without their heroism. The people had got far beyond them, and they called for a Dynasty of progress. The effete monarchies of a past age they overwhelmed in the Red Sea of Revolution, and Napoleon's Empire was established. XVIII. Letitia Ramolini, the fairest and most brilliant maiden of Corsica, was of an ancient Italian family. The Ramolinis are descended from the Counts of Colalto. The first, who settled at Ajaccio, married the daughter of the Doge of Genoa, and received concessions and distinguished honors from that Republic. Letitia's biography should begin with a portraiture of her character sketched by the bold hand of her son. Says Napoleon : — " She had the head of a man on the shoulders of a woman. Left without a guide or protector, she was obliged to assume the management of affairs — but the burden did not overcome her. She administered everything with a degree of sagacity not to be expected from her age or sex. Her tenderness was joined with severity : She punished, rewarded all alike ; the good, the bad, nothing escaped her. Losses, privations, fatigue had no effect upon her ; she endured all, braved all. Ah I what a woman I where look forjier equal ?" LETITIA BONAPARTE. JWiwrrrfrMTMf'-iri'iiTfliwmMBiaMB fSmL CHARACTER OF LETITIA. 21 XIX. At the death of her husband [1785] away from home, Signer a Letitia who had only reached her 35th year, had already become the mother of thirteen children, of whom live sons and three daughters survived their father. The order of their birth was as follows : — 1. Joseph, born in 1768 ; 2. Napoleon, in 1769 ; 3. Lucien, in 1775 ; 4. Eliza, in 1777 , 5. Louis, in 1778 ; 6. Pauline, in 1780 ; 7. Caroline, in 1782 ; 8. Jerome, in 1784. " Left a widow at an early age," (says Madame Junot, who was intimate with the family,) " in a country where the head of a family is everything, the young mother found it necessary to call up all the energy of her character." She was gifted with that delicacy of per- ception which distinguishes the Corsicans ; " but in her con- versation," says the Dutchess d'Abrantes, who knew her intimately, " she was habitually candid. Her soul beamed in her looks, and it was a soul full of the loftiest sentiments. Her haughtiness, which was not ojffen-sive, became dignity, when elevated to her new situation. She was kind at heart, but of a cold exterior ; and at the period of which I speak, she was very scrupulous in exacting from every body, what she considered her due. She was a good mother. They treated her with every respect, and showed her assiduous attention. Lucien and Joseph were particularly attached to her." Before she had completed her sixteenth year, Letitia had become a wife. Her native country was now involved in civil discord and revolution. During the war for Cor- sican independence, she shared the dangers of her husband, v frequently accompanying him on horseback in his expedi- tions. When the French army entered Corsica, many of the principal families, and among them the Bonapartes, 22 were compelled to fly. They assembled at tlie foot of Montfl Rotondo, the highest mountain in the island. In their flight and during their sojourn among the mountains, they under- went many hardships. This was in the year 1769 ; and whenever he had occasion to speak of the events which pre- ceded his birth, Napoleon always dwelt with admiration on tlie courage and magnanimity with which his mother had borne losses and privations, and braved' fatigue and danger. xx;. Left a widow in the prime of life with but little property, Signora Letitia devoted herself to the care of her numerous family. Joseph, the eldest of her children, was nearly eighteen years of age, and seconded her efforts, with ardor and paternal affection. Napoleon was pursuing his military studies in France. When [1789] he had returned to Cor- sica the whole family were there assembled and resident with their mother ; Lucien and Eliza having also received their education in France. Louis, Jerome, Pauline and Caroline were still children. The Archdeacon Lucien, a brother of their father, although in infirm health, had become chief of the family, and watched over their welfare with paternal solicitude. The young Abbe Fesch, half-brother of Letitia, [and who had attended her husband in his last moments,] also resided with her family. The education of her four eldest children on the continent, and the deputation of her husband to Paris, had rendered the family entirely French in their character and political sentiments. Corsica hatl been declared, [30th of November, 1789], an integral part of the Monarchy of France ; and that declaration, which had satisfied the islanders generally, had somewhat effaced from their minds the bitter souvenirs of the conquest. The revolutionary cause of the continent LETITIa's flight from CORSICA. ^\ as embraced by tlie Bonapartes ; Josepli entered into pub^ lie life in the administration of the Department, while the younger brothers were preparing to take part in the ap- proaching contest. XXII. In 1792 public opinion in Corsica changed with regard to the French Revolution. Instigated by the venerable chief Paoli, the people declared against the sanguinary Republic. Ajaccio was the only town that had refused at the command of Paoli, to lower the tri-color. The chief had urged the Bonapartes,. the sons of his old companion in the war of independence, to join them in a fresh struggle against France. But their feelings, ambition and interest, lay in the opposite direction, and a separation took place. Paoli and his fol- lowers, in 1793, marched on Ajaccio ; the three Bonaparte brothers were absent at this critical time ; but the heroic Letitia, who had in earlier days followed her husband, in scenes of danger, was fully equal to the task of providing for the safety of herself and children. She dispatched mes- sengers to Joseph and Napoleon by sea and land ; and gave notice that they would soon arrive in the port with tlie representatives of the people. She iLus succeeded in pa- ralyzing the partisans of Paoli in the town. XXIII. While waiting for the French fleet, Signora Letitia was on the point of falling into the hands of her enemies. Roused suddenly at midnight, she found her chamber filled with armed mountaineers. She at first thought herself surprised by the partisans of Paoli ; but by the light of a fir-torch she saw the countenance of the chief, and felt reassured. It was Costa of Bastelica, the most devoted of the partisans of France. " Quick, make haste, Signora Letitia," he ex- 24 NAPOLEONS MOTHER. claimed; "Paor's men are close on us. There is not a moment to lose ; but here I am, with my men. We will serve you, or perish." XXIV. Bastelica, one of the most populous villages of Corsica, lies at the foot of Monte d'Oro. Its inhabitants are re- nowned for their courage, and loyalty : one of the villagers had encountered a numerous body of the followers of Paoli descending on A.jaccio. He had learned that this troop had orders to take all the Bonaparte family, dead or alive. He returned to the village and roused their friends, who to the number of three hundred, armed, and preceded their ene- mies by a forced march to Ajaccio. Signora Letitia and her children rose from their beds, and in the centre of the column left the town in silence — the in- habitants being still asleep. They penetrated the deepest recesses of the mountains, and at day -break halted in a forest, in sight of the sea. Several times the fugitives heard from their encampment the troops of the enemy in the neighbor- ing valley, but they escaped the risk of an encounter. The same day, the flames rising in dense columns from the town, attracted attention. " That is your house now burning," said one of her friends, to Letitia. " Ah ! never mind," she replied ; "we will build it up again much better. Vive la France P' After two nights' march, the fugitives descried a -Frencli frigate. Letitia took leave of her brave defenders, and joined Joseph and Napoleon, who were on board the vessel at Calvi with the French deputies who had been sent on a mission to Corsica. XXV. The frigate turned her prow towards Marseilles where she landed the family of exiles, destitute of resources, but THE BONAPARTES IN EXILE. 2^ full of liealth and courage. All the fortitude of Letitia was called into exercise in these trying circumstances. She was reduced to poverty, and gratefully received the rations of bread distributed by the municipality to refugee patriots. Joseph and Napoleon contributed to the support of the fami- ly from their scanty allowances, in the military service. France was then bleeding under the wounds of a ferocious cifil war, and threatened with the dangers of foreign inva- sion. The principal cities of the Republic had revolted against the central authority of Paris which was ruled by the Jacobins, and Marseilles led the rebellion : But the re- duction of Lyons, and the vengeance inflicted on it, restored the supremacy of Paris. Many thousands of the inhabitants of Marseilles fled for protection to Toulon, which had called in the aid of the British and Spanish fleets to uphold the cause of the Bourbons. In this general flight, however, the Bonapartes did not participate — they belonged to the trium- phant party. This connection may in some measure be as- cribed to Lucien, who, though a youth, had distinguished himself as a Republican orator and partisan. In this early revolutionary career, he greatly promoted the fortunes of the family ; but Joseph, who continued to reside at Mar- seilles, with his mother, was too mild and unobtrusive to gain favor with the Jacobins, while Napoleon was yet but an unknown subaltern. The Abbe Fesch had accompanied his sister in her exile, and the family incurred the danger of harboring- a priest, then the most obnoxious of all men to popular wrath. The Abbe, however, prudently discarded his clerical robes, and sought a safer calling as a keeper of military stores in the army of General Montesquiow, who, in the autumn of 1793, overran the country of Savoy. 26 XXVI. The close of 1793 was marked by tlie capture of Toulon, the last of the revolted cities which had held out against the victorious banner of the Republic. That event revealed to the French nation the genius of Napoleon, and elevated him to the rank of General of Brigade. To his promotion the family of Signora Bonaparte owed better days. To be near him while he was stationed at Nice, the family had estab- lished themselves at the Chateau Salle, in the environs of Antilees, a few miles from Napoleon's head-quarters. He announced one day to Joseph and Lucien that he must set out for Paris the following morning, to be in a position to establish all the family advantageously. He however re^ considered the step. " They offer me," said Napoleon, " the place of Henriot. I am to give my answer this evening. Well, what say you to it ?" His brother hesitated a moment. " Eh ! eh !" re- joined the general ; " but it is worth the trouble of consid- ering. It is not a case to be the enthusiast upon ; it is not so easy to save one's head at Paris, as at St. Maximin. The young Robespierre is an honest fellow ; but his brother is not to be trifled with. He will be obeyed. Can I sup- port that man ? No, never ! I know how useful I should be to him in replacing his simpleton of a commandant at Paris ; but it is what I will not be. It is not yet time there is no place honorable for me at present but the army we must have patience — I shall command Paris hereafter. *' Such (says Lucien) were the words of Napoleon. He then expressed to us his indignation against the Reign of Terror of which he announced the approaching downfall. The young Robespierre solicited him in vain. A few weeks after the 9th Thermidor arrived tp^-d^liyer France, and justify the foresight of the general. '^ THE PROSCRIPTION OF THE BONAPARTES. 27 XXVII. Notwithstanding his refusal to identify himself with Ro- bespierre, Napoleon, on whom the fortunes of the Bonaparte family depended, was involved in the downfall of that tyrant^ nd after the 9th of Thermidor, [27th of July, 1794,] he was rreeted as an adherent and partisan of Robespierre. He was restored to liberty in a few days. But his release was followed by the loss of his position in the army, and he went to Paris to solicit restoration and employment. His brothers shared in the reverses of the moment. Joseph re- tired to Genoa, and Lucien suffered incarceration in the prison of Aix for six weeks. Proscription was now the lot of the Bonapartes, in addition to the poverty from which they had partially emerged, but into which they were now again plunged. In this extremity of their fortunes, Joseph became the prop and support of the family. His marriage with the daughter of a wealthy merchant of Marseilles raised him to affluence, and gave him a position which enabled him to be of essential benefit to his mother, and the children still remaining with her. Signora Letitia continued to reside at Marseilles, with her family, till Napoleon's marriage, [1796], and appoint- ment to the command of the army of Italy. He at once assigned to his mother a portion of his income, by which she was raised from a state of comparative indigence to one of ease and comfort. Louis having entered the army, at the early age of seventeen, Jerome alone of all the sons remained with his mother, whose household was further reduced in 1797, by the marriage of her eldest daughter. About this period, Signora Letitia visited Corsica, and returning to Marseilles, finally removed with her family to Paris, in 1799, where she took up her residence with her son 28 NAPOLEON S MOTHER. Josepli. The family of Lucien were also in Paris at this time, when Napoleon unexpectedly returned from Egypt. XXYIII. When the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, [9th November 1799,] took place, Paris had been violently agitated foi Bome days. All were apprehensive of some decisive event without knowing the cause of their disquiet. The Dutches* d'Abrantes thus describes her visit to Signora Letitia, on whom she called after the affair was nearly over. " She appeared calm, though far from being easy ; for her extreme paleness and the convulsive movement she evinced whenever an unexpected noise met her ear, gave her features a ghastly air. In these moments she appeared to me truly like the mother of the Gracchi. She had three sons under the stroke of fate, one of whom would probably receive the blow, even if the others escaped. This she felt most forcibly. My mother and myself remained with her a part of that tanta- lizing day ; and only quitted her on the restoration of her confidence by Lucien's messengers, who were frequently sent to calm her disquiet. The danger to which the Bonaparte family was exposed might have been even imminent on the night of the 18th or 19th. If the Directory and the Councils had triumphed, all Bonaparte's brothers would have followed him to the scaffold ; and their friends and parti- sans would have been exiled, to say the least." XXIX. ' After the revolution, which placed Napoleon at the hea of the consular government, Madame Letitia lived very retired in Paris — a manner of life which was equally in accordance with her own taste and the wishes of the First Consul, who was desirous that for a time his female relatives letitia's establishmext at paeis. 29 should make no display. From the trials and misfortunes to which she had been exposed, Letitia who was naturally provident, had acquired habits of severe economy, and she always condemned superfluous expenditure on the part of her children. She entertained little fondness for her daughter-in-law, Josephine, preferring the society and fa- miliarity 0. the wives of Joseph and Lucien. She took part with Lucien in his quarrel with Napoleon, and greatly to the chagrin of the latter, followed the family of Lucien to Rome, in 1805. When upbraided by Napoleon with an undue partiality for Lucien, she answered, that an unfortu- nate son would always be the most dear to her ; which she proved afterwards by a memorable devotion to himself. Shortly after the creation of the Empire, however, she was induced to return to Paris, whither Napoleon invited her by tender solicitations, and offers of a splendid establishment. The Emperor settled upon her an annual income of a million francs [$200,000] assigned her a separate court, and gave her the title of Madame Mere, equivalent to that of Empress Mother. She took up her residence in the sump- tuously furnished mansion which had been occupied by Lucien, but she was far from maintaining the princely state and hospitality which had distinguished her banished son in his days of prosperity and power. She always adhered to the economical habits she had formed in adversity, not from an ignoble love of gold, but from a dread she could never discard, that poverty and want might again become the portion of the family, and that her savings might be wanted in the hour of calamity. It would be unjust not to add, that Madame Letitia took delight in offices of kindness. Often called on to solicit from her son favors for others, she was happy when her exertions were crowned with success. bO NAPOLEOX'S MOTHER. XXX. On tlie approach of tlie Allies toward Paris, in April, 1814, Madame Mere accompanied the empress Maria Louisa and her court to Blois. Her wonted prudence and pre- science did not forsake her ; for on this occasion she took care to receive her arrears of allowance, [375.000 francs,] and dismissed the greater part of her attendants. By the treaty of Paris, in 1814, she was allowed to retain the title of " Madame Mere," and an annuity of 200.000 francs, secured on the great book of France, was settled upon her. In August of the same year, attended by two maids of honor, and her chamberlain, she followed her son to Elba, and presided on the 15th, at a ball given in honor of his birth-day. After the return of Napoleon from Elba, Madame Letitia repaired to Eome, where she took up her residence for her remaining days. Immediately after the overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo, she proffered him all she possessed in the world to assist him in restoring his fortunes. " And for mo," said Napoleon at St. Helena, '' she would without a murmur, have doomed herself to live on black bread. Loftiness of sentiment still reigned para- mount in her breast ; pride and noble ambition were not subdued by avarice." Count Las Casas, on his return to Europe from St. Helena, witnessed the truth of Napoleon's remarks. No sooner had he detailed his story of the Emperor's~situation, than the answer returned by the courier was, that " her whole for tune was at her son's disposal." XXXI. In October, 1818, she addressed an affecting appeal in hist behalf to the allied sovereigns assembled at Aix-laChapelle. " Sires," she wrote, " I am a mother, and my son's life is LAST DAYS OF LETITIA. 31 dearer to me than my own. In the name of Him whose essence is goodness, and of whom your imperial and royal Majesties are the image, I entreat you to put a period to his misery, and to restore him to liberty. For this, I im- plore God, and I implore you, who are his vicegerents on earth. Reasons of state have their limits, and posterity which gives immortality, adores above all things, the generosity of conquerors." And in 1819, Napoleon having expressed his determina- tion, whatever might be the extremity of his case, not to permit the visits of an English physician, and his desire to have the company of a Catholic priest, she cheerfully de- frayed the expense of a mission to St. Helena, selected by Cardinal Fesch, with the approval of the Pope, consisting of Dr. Antommarchi, Father Bonavita, and Abbe Yignali. XXXII. Madame Letitia continued to reside at Rome, near her brother Cardinal Fesch, in the Palazzo Falconnieri, until her death, which took place on the 2d of February, 1836, at the advanced age of 86 years. She occupied an extensive suite of apartments in the palace of her choice, which were handsomely furnished, and with more attention to neatness and comfort than is common in Italy. Her establishment was splendid, but private and unostentatious. She lead a very retired life, in her declining years, amid the social circle of her children and a few intimate friends, and dis- pensing charities to the poor. She retained marks of her former beauty after she had reached her eightieth year. Canova's magnificent bust of her strikingly resembles the original. Her children and descendants were unwearied in their attentions to her to the last, and she died as she had lived, a zealous devotee of the Catholic faith. 32 CARDINAL FESCH. She is buried in Rome — and her dust has mingled with the imperial soil which holds the ashes of the mother of the Gracchi, and half the heroes of the earth. XXXIII. CARDINAL FESCH, Born at Ajaccio, January 3rd., 1763— died at Rome, May 13th., 1839. The maternal uncle of Napoleon, Cardinal Fesch. was the son of Francis Fesch, by the mother of Letitia Ramo- lini, who, after the death of her first husband, contracted a second marriage with a captain in one of the Swiss Regiments in the service of France, then garrisoned in Corsica. Captain Fesch was a native of Basle, in Switzer- land, and a Protestant ; but adopted the Catholic faith to win the hand of the beautiful widow Ramolini. Joseph Fesch [afterwards Cardinal] remained in his native place till his thirteenth year, when he was sent to the college of Aix, in France, where he stayed till 1789, when he was nominated by the Pope, Archdeacon of the cathedral of Ajaccio, an office which had become vacant by the resignation of Lucien Bonaparte, the great- uncle of Napoleon. At this time, and for many years afterward, the Abbe Fesch resided in the family of his sister, Letitia Bonaparte, whose husband he had accom- panied on a journey to France, in a futile search for health, and whom he had attended in his last hours. Between the Abbe Fesch, and his relatives of the Bonaparte family, there appears always to have been the most affectionate regard and mutual attachment. Pro- scribed in Corsica by the partisans of Paoli, with the other members of the Bonaparte family, the Abbe was compelled to leave his church and flock at Ajaccio. Fly* THE CONCQRDAT. 83 ing with his sister and her children from the Island, tho exiles took up their residence at Marseilles. His sympa- thies like those of all his relatives, being in favor of Republican principles, Fesch withdrew from his clerical profession, which was proscribed during the reign of terror in France, and entered as a keeper of stores in the army of Montesquiou, in Savoy. In 1796 he became commissary-general in the army of Italy, under his nephew Napoleon. In that capacity he was believed to have ac- quired a considerable fortune. xxxiv. When Napoleon became First Consul, [1799], Fesch resumed the clerical profession, and after the Concordat with the Pope, [July, 1801], he was appointed Archbishop of Lyons, being consecrated by the Cardinal Legate iu person, [15th of August, 1802.] The Concordat is the name given to any formal agree- ment between the Pope of Rome and a foreign govern- ment, by which the ecclesiastical discipline of the Cath- olic clergy, and the management of the churches and benefices within the territory of that government, are regulated. Concordats have been made between the Pope and the Sovereigns of France and other European nations at different periods, but have become most frequent since the middle of the eighteenth century, an epoch from which the European Catholic governments have made themselves more independent of the ecclesiastical power ; and the Popes have been for the most part men of an enlightened and conciliatory spirit. But the most cele- brated Concordat in history is that now referred to, agreed upon between Cardinal Gonsalvi, in the name of Pius VII, and Joseph Bonaparte on the part of the 84 CARDINAL FESCH. First Consul and Government of France, in 1801. The Pope made several concessions, seldom, if ever, granted by his predecessors. He suppressed many bishopricks, sanc- tioned the sale of church property which had taken place, superseded all bishops who had refused to take the oath to the Republic, and consented that the First Consul should appoint the bishops, subject to the approbation of the Pon- tiff. The clergy became subject to the civil power, like laymen. All immunities, ecclesiastical courts and jurisdic- tions were abolished, and the regulations of public worship were placed under the control of the secular authorities. This Concordat restored the Roman Catholic religion in France, and on the stipulations agreed on, it was pro- claimed, on the part of the French government, that the Catholic religion was that of the majority of Frenchmen ; that its worship should be free, public, and protected by the authorities, but under such regulations as the civil power should think proper to prescribe for the sake of public tran- quility ; that its clergy should be provided for by the .State ; that the cathedrals and parish churches should be re- stored to them. The total abolition of convents was also confirmed. This Concordat was not agreed to by the Pope without some scruples, nor without much opposition from several of the theologians and canonists of the Court of Rome. But considering the situation of France, where so many of the Catholic churches had been closed during the Revolution, and the persecutions to which the clergy had been subjected for years, they submitted to circumstances, and accepted the terms of the Concordat as a boon from the First Consul, whose power and influ- ence alone could have carried it into effect against the discontent and opposition of the infidel portion of the pea pie, still strong in numbers, power and influence. EMBASSY TO ROME. 35 XXXV. On Easter Sunday, 1802, the Concordat was published at Paris, with a decree of regulations on matters of discipline, which were so drawn as to appear a part of the original Concordat. The regulations were, that no bull, brief, or decision from Rome, should be acknowledged in France without the previous approbation of the government ; no nuncio or apostolic commissioner to appear in France, and no council to be held without a similar consent ; appeals against abuses to be laid before the Council of State ; pro- fessors of Seminaries to subscribe to the four articles of the Galilean church of 1682 ; no priest to be ordained unless over twenty-five years of age ; and lastly, that the grand vicars of the respective dioceses should exercise the episco- pal authority after the demise of the bishop till the election of his successor, instead of vicars elected ad hoc by the respective chapters, as prescribed by the Council of Trent. Tills last article grieved most the court of Rome, as it affected the spiritual jurisdiction of the church. The Pope made re- monstrances, to which the First Consul turned a deaf ear. Regulations were issued at the same time, concerning the discipline of the Protestant churches in France. The Pro- testant clergy were also paid by the State. xxxvi. On the occasion of the solemn promulgation of the Con- cordat in the cathedral of Notre Dame, the Archbishop of Aix officiated, and the First Consul attended in full state. The old generals of the Republic had been invited by Mar- shal Berthier in the mornino; to attend the levee of the First Consul, who took them unawares with him to Notre Dame. The observation of Religious ceremonies, and attendance on Dublic worship soon became fashionable in Paris and other 36 CAKDINAL FESCH parts of France, and the restoration of the Catholic faith as a religion of state was confirmed. Napoleon said, at St. Helena, that he never repented having signed the Concordat ; that it was a, great political measure ; that it gave him in- fluence over the Pope, and through him over a great part of the world, and especially Italy ; and that he might have ended by directing the Pope's councils altogether. In the arrangements of the Concordat, Fesch cordially con- curred, zealously co-operating with his nephew in his efforts to re-establish the Catholic religion. On the ITth of Janu- ary, 1803, he received from Pope Pius YII, the appointment of Cardinal, and soon afterwards was sent by Napoleon ambassador to the Court of Eome, where he was received with marked distinction. xxxvii. The Yiscount de Chateaubriand accompanied the Cardinal, as first secretary to the Embassy. During his residence at Rome, Fesch gave concerts in his Palace, even in Lent, to which he invited his colleagues of the Sacred College ; but in consequence of a special regulation, and an intimation from La Somaglia, the Cardinal Vicar, the cardinals de- clined these invitations. When Napoleon had restored his uncle to the clerical profession, at the time of the general restoration of the priesthood, he would only do so on con- dition of exemplary conduct ; for while commissary of war of Italy, no one, judging from his manner of life, would have taken M. Fesch to be a minister of religion. Returning to his first profession, where his powerful relationship war- ranted him in hoping the first rank and influence in the church, the Abbe, with a rare moral resolution, altered his manners, disguised his habits, and presented in a semi- nary, the spectacle of an edifying penitence. We have 37 noticed the rapidity of his advancement in honors and pre- ferment. When he had received the Archbishopric of Lyons, which had been kept vacant for him, and a Cardinal's hat, he showed himself, in the opinion of some, not the sup- porter of Napoleon, but rather his antagonist in the church ; and it was suspected that he intended some day to compel a nephew to whom he owed everything, to be dependent upon an uncle who was supported by the secret ill will of the clergy. Napoleon had complained of what he thought a new instance of family ingratitude, and M. Portalis, one of his counselors, had advised him to rid himself of that uncle, by sending him to Rome. " There,'' said M. Portalis, " he will have enough to do with the pride and prejudices of the Roman Court, and he will employ the faults of his disposi- tion to your service instead of your injury." It was to this end, and not for the purpose of some day making him Pope, as was pretended at the time, that Napoleon accredited Car- dinal Fesch to the court of Rome. XXXIX. In the autumn of 1804, the Cardinal accompanied Piu3 YII. to Paris, to assist at the coronation of Napoleon and Josephine. He had already been employed in negotiations necessary to overcome the scruples of the Pope and his Car- dinals, in inducing the head of the Catholic church to accept the invitation of Napoleon, to undertake the journey over the Alps, at an inclement season. The restoration of the Catholic church in France had given Napoleon peculiar claims on the court of Rome, and after consulting with the cardinals, Pius gave his consent, and arrangements were made for his journey. The negotiations had been conducted in private, but although the secret had been well kept by Cardinal Fesch, the news from Paris and some inevitable 38 CARDIXAL FESCH. indiscretions of the agents of tlie Holy See, caused the nego- tiations to be divulged, and the prelates and diplomatists of the court of Rome, indulged in censures and sarcasms. Pius VII. was styled the Chaplain of the Emperor of the French ; for that Emperor, standing in need of the ministry of the Pope, had not come to Rome, as Charlemange, Otho, Barba- rossa, and Charles Y. of the olden times ; he had summoned the Pope to his palace in France. The negotiations at Paris were conducted by the Pope's Legate, Cardinal Caprara. In his dispatches to Rome he described what was passing in Prance, the good to be ac- complished there by the Pope's visit ; and he positively affirmed that the Emperor's invitation could not be refused but with the greatest perils ; and that the Pope would derive only satisfaction from his journey. The Pope had his car- dinals enlightened by the letters of the legate, and urged by Cardinal Fesch, finally consented ; and it was settled that the Pontiff should start from Rome the 2d and reach Fon- tainbleau the 2Tth of November. As soon as the consent of the court of Rome was obtained, Cardinal Fesch declared that the Emperor would defray all the expenses of the journey; and he further made known the details of the magnificent reception in preparation for the head of the Catholic church. He desired that twelve cardinals, besides the Secretary of State, Gonsalvi, should accompany the Pope ; he also wished, contrary to the estab- lished custom, by which the cardinals take precedence in the order of seniority, to have the first place in the pontifical carriage, in quality of ambassador, grand almoner, and uncle to the Emperor. Pius YII. yielded some points, but was inflexible in the number of cardinals, and the attendance of the Secretary of State. Imagining his health worse than it really was. THE pope's JOURXEY TO PARIS. 39 and mistaking the nervous agitation into which he was thrown for a dangerous illness, he thought it very likely he might die on his journey. He also feared that some advan- tage might be taken of his presence in France. With this apprehension, therefore, he had drawn up and signed his abdication, and placed it in the hands of Cardinal Gonsalvi, that he might be able to declare the pontificate vacant. In the event of his death or abdication it would be requisite to convoke the Sacred College to appoint his successor, and it was necessary, therefore, to have as many cardinals as possible at Rome, among others Gonsalvi, who was best qualified to guide the church in such an exigency. The Pope wished also to prove to the Court of Austria that he would not, as he had promised, treat with Napoleon upon any question foreign to the French church ; by not taking with him to Paris, Cardinal Gonsalvi, the man by whom all the important business of the Roman Court was transacted. For these reasons Pius refused to be attended by more than six cardinals, and the Secretary of State remained at Rome. He yielded to the personal pretensions of Cardi- nal Fesch, who was to occupy the first place from their arrival in France. XL. Having confided all necessary powers to Cardinal Gon- salvi, the Pope, [the morning of the 2d of November], went to the altar of St. Peter, and knelt for some time, surrounded by the cardinals, the nobles, and the people of Rome. On his knees he offered up a fervent prayer, as though about to brave imminent perils. From the tomb of the apostle he entered his carriage, and the cortege took the road towards Paris. The people followed his carriage for a long time, weeping. He trav.erse.d the Roman Statejj and Tuscany, 40 CARDINAL FESCH. along roads lined by kneeling multitudes. At Florence lie was received by the Queen Regent of Etruria with due honors, and began to recover from his anxieties. Thence he was conducted by Piacenza, Parma and Turin, through Piedmont, to the Alps, which he crossed in safety. Extra- ordinary precautions had been taken to render the journey safe and comfortable to. himself and the aged cardinals who accompanied him. Officers of the imperial palace provided everything with zeal and magnificence. Descending the Alps he reached Lyons, where his alarm was changed into positive delight. The crowds of people who had assembled from the surrounding country, welcomed the head of the Catholic church with veneration. He now perceived that Cardinal Caprara spoke truly when he told him that his journey would be beneficial to religion, and prove a source of infinite gratification to himself. Peceiving at Lyons a letter of thanks from the Emperor, the Pope hastened on towards Paris. Napoleon met him [25th November] near Fontainbleau, and cordially embracing him, the two sove- reigns entered the Imperial carriage, for the favorite retreat of the Emperor. At the entrance to the palace, the empress, the court, and the chiefs of the army were arranged in a cir- cle, to receive the Pontiff and offer him their homage. Ac- customed as he was to the imposing ceremonies of Pome, he had never before gazed on so magnificent a scene. He was conducted to the apartments prepared for him, and after some hours of repose, received with cordiality the pre- sentations of the court. He conceived an affection for Napoleon which through many vicissitudes he cherished to the close of his life. On his reception at Fontainbleau he was filled with the emo- tion — he could not repress the joy of a welcome which to him seemed only the triumph of religion. PRIVATE MARRIAGE OF NAPOLEON. 41 XLI. The 28tli of November, by the side of the Emperor the Pontiff entered Paris in the midst of every demonstration of love and reverence. He was conducted to the Palace of the Tuilleries, where he was installed with the sovereign honors of the Empire. He often went on the balcony of the Tuil- leries, accompanied by Napoleon,' where he was saluted by joyous acclamations. He looked on the people of Paris — • that people who had been the actors of the ferocious scenes of the Revolution, and inaugurated the goddess of Reason. They knelt before him, and received the pontifical benedic- tion. It is not strange that when Protestant Europe heard the news there was a general exclamation, Catholicism is far better than no religion. The coronation was celebrated Sunday, the 2d of Decem- ber, 1804. The evening previous, the Empress Josephine, who had found favor with the Pope, sought an interview with him, and declared that she had only been civilly mar- ried to Napoleon, as at the time of their nuptials, religious ceremonies had been abolished. The Pope, scandalized by a situation which in the eyes of the church, was a mere con- cubinage, declared to Napoleon that he could not by crown- ing Josephine give the divine consecration to the peculiar state in which they had lived. Napoleon, fearing to offend the Pope, whom he knew to be inflexible in matters of faith, and moreover unwilling to alter the programme which had been published, consented to receive the nuptial benediction. Josephine, sharply reprimanded by her husband, but de- lighted with her success, received the very night preceding the coronation, the sacrament of marriage in the chapel of the Tuilleries. Cardinal Fesch, with M. Talleyrand and ^Marshal Berthier for witnesses, and with profound secrecy, 42 CARDIXAL FESCH. married the Emperor and Empress. The secret was faith- fully kept till the divorce of Josephine. XLII. Having received from the Emperor the appointment of Grand Almoner of France, Cardinal Fesch took up hi residence in Paris. In February, 1805, he was invested by the Emperor with the grand cordon of the Legion of Honor, having been chosen by the Electoral College of Lot a mem- ber of the Senate. Decorated in July of the same year with the Order of the Golden Fleece, by the King of Spain, the Cardinal in 1806, was by Dalberg, Elector of Mayence, Arch-chancellor of the German Empire, and afterwards Prince Primate of the Confederation of the Ehine nomi- nated as his colleague, and destined to be his successor. Napoleon refused his sanction to this nomination, and after- wards appointed in his place for the German dignity, Eu- gene Beauharnais, with the title of Grand Duke of Frank- fort. The 31st January, 1809, Napoleon nominated Car- dinal Fesch, to the high Ecclesiastical station of Archbishop of Paris, but for reasons connected with the discussions which had for some time been going on between the Empe- ror and the Pope, he thought it his duty to decline the ap- pointment. Elected President of the Sacred Council of Paris, in 1810, the firmness with which he opposed some of the acts of Napoleon, particularly his violent treatment of Pius YIL, excited general astonishment. This honorable conduct, however, while it gained for him the esteem of the wise and virtuous, prejudiced his own interests. When the divorce of Josephine was agitated, Napoleon was very angry with Cardinal Fesch, for having divulged the secret of the religious consecration which had been given to his marriage, on the eve of their coronation, in 1804. The Emperor said fesch's connection with Josephine's divorce. 43 that the ceremony performed without witnesses, in the chapel of the Tuilleries, was invalid ; that it had taken place solely to quiet the Pope's conscience ; and that to think of raising such an obstacle against him at that moment [Nov. 1809,] was perfidious on the part of his uncle. XLIII. It was settled, however, that as soon as there was no more need of secrecy the Arch-chancellor, [Cambaceres,] should assemble several bishops, and invent some means of dis- solving the spiritual union without having recourse to the Pope, from whom nothing was to be expected, under the circumstances. Canonical proceedings were, therefore, in- stituted before the diocesan court, to obtain the annulment of the religious marriage between Napoleon and Josephine. Cardinal Fesch, and Messrs. Talleyrand, Berthier and Duroc vvere heard, as witnesses ; the Cardinal as to the forms observed, the others as to the consent, given by the parties. Cardinal Fesch declared that he had received from the Pope a dispensation — for waiving certain forms in the execution of his duties as grand almoner, which in his opinion justified the absence of witnesses and of a Cure. As to the title, he affirmed its existence, and thus rendered useless the pre- caution which had been taken to withdraw from Josephine's hands the certificate of marriage, which her children had with much difficulty obtained from her. Talleyrand, Ber- thier and Duroc affirmed that Napoleon had repeatedly told them, he had consented only to a mere ceremony to satisfy the conscience of Josephine, and the Pope ; but that his formal intention at all times had been not to com- plete his union with the Empress ; being unhappily certain he should soon be obliged/to renounce her, for the interests of his Empire. 44 CARDINAL FESCH. The decision of the ecclesiastical authority was, that there had not been sufficient consent — that there had been no witnesses, and no proper priest — that is to say, no parish clergyman — a minister accredited by the Catholic religion, to impart validity to a marriage. It declared that the dis- pensation granted to Cardinal Fesch in a general manner as grand almoner, could not have conferred on him the curial functions ; and consequently the inarriage was null, through defect of the most essential forms. The marriage was therefore broken, before both the diocesan and the metropolitan jurisdiction, with the full observance of the canon law. At the marriage [in April, 1810,] of Napoleon and Maria Louisa, however, Cardinal Fesch gave the nuptial benediction. Having fallen into disfavor at the court of Napoleon, Cardinal Fesch retired to his See at Lyons, where he pur- chased and furnished with great splendor the magnificent edifice which formerly belonged to the Carthusians ; where he resided, till the advance of the Austrians, toward Lyons in January, 1814. Dissatisfied with the Lyonese, who, he said, '' had not the sense to defend themselves," he withdrcAV from his See ; and after various changes of place, and nar- rowly escaping capture by the Austrians, arrived on Easter- day, at Orleans, whence with his sister, Madame Letitia, he took the road to Rome, where his recent fatigues were soon forgotten in the kind reception he met with from his old fi'iend, Pius YIL The Cardinal now seemed anxious to live in retiremen at Rome, but on the escape of Napoleon from Elba, he threw open his palace, became unusually cheerful, gave splendid evening parties, and openly acknowledged that he con- sidered his nephew's return to France, as the special work of Divine Providence. Following Napoleon, to Paris, the 45 Car. filial was created a Peer of France, only a fortnight befoi <5 the battle of Waterloo. XLiy. Soon after the Battle of Waterloo, Cardinal Fesch ad- dressed the following letter to his neice, the Princess Pauline Borghese. It was intercepted and published in the Turin Journal, in August, 1815 : — " Paris, June 28th, 1815. " Lucien set off yesterday for London, in order to get passports for the rest of the family. Joseph and also Jerome will wait for their passports. Lucien has left here his second daughter, who has just arrived from England ; she will set off again in a few days. I foresee the United States will be the end of the chase. I think you ought to remain in Italy ; but recollect that character is one of the most estimable gifts of the Creator, with which he has en- riched your family. Exercise courage then, and strength of mind, to rise superior to misfortune. Let no economy appear a sacrifice. At this moment we are all poor. Your mother and brothers embrace you. " Your affectionate uncle, " Cardinal Fesch." On the second return of the Bourbons, and the dispersion of the Bonaparte family, Cardinal Fesch, in the company of his sister, once more set out for Rome, where they were to pend the rest of their days. With the same firmness he had once opposed the measures of Napoleon he disapproved, Fesch refused to accede to the demand of the Bourbons to resign his archbishopric of Lyons. In this dilemma, the Abbe de Rohan, a French noble, was appointed Grand Yicar-General of Lyons, against 46 CARDINAL FESOH. the will of the Cardinal. A papal brief in 1824 prohibited Fesch from the exercise of his spiritual jurisdiction in that diocese. XLY. In the possession of great wealth, the cardinal was liberal in Lis expenditures in France and at Rome, especially in objects of art, of which he was a judicious and munificent patron. His gallery of paintings at Rome occupied three stories of his princely palace. The collection embraced fourteen hundred pictures, and was considered one of the largest and best in Rome. Besides many of the first Italian masters, it was singularly rich in the works of the Flemish and Dutch schools. Some years before his death, he sold a large part of his paintings, and by his will divided those remaining between the Vatican and his relatives, to the latter of whom he left most of his other property. Cardinal Fesch died in Rome, May 13, 1839 — in his *77th year. As a member of the Sacred College he had partici- pated in the election of three Popes, viz : Leo XII. in 1823 ; Pius YIII. in 1829 ; Gregory XVI. in 1831. His funeral was celebrated in the church of San Lorenzo, in Lucina, and was attended by many of the cardinals, and upwards of one hundred bishops and archbishops. In person. Cardinal Fesch was corpulent, of middle height, and in early life handsome ; while his manners were pleasing and devoid of assumption or arrogance. -Though considered by many vain and ambitious, there was nothing stern or in tolerant about him, and to strangers he was particularly liberal and aflFable. During a large portion of his career his influence in the church of Rome was very great, enabling him to be of essential service to the Bonaparte family, and notwithstanding his occasional differences with Napoleon, ehowing his uniform attachment to them in prosperity and CHARACTER OF CARDINAL FESCH. 47 adversity. Zealously devoted to tlie interests of Napoleon, we have seen that he did not hesitate to withhold his ap- proval of those great errors of the Emperor, the treatment of Pius YII., in his advanced years, and the repudiation of Josephine, coinciding doubtless in these respects with the feelings of Napoleon's best friends, and a great majority of the French nation. BOOK TI. NAPOLEOI. Born at Corsica, August 15, 1769 ; Died at St. Helena, May 5, 1821 ; Buried in the Hotel des Inva- lides, Paris. Dec. 15, 1840. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. I. Most of Napoleon's biographers have croTvded his child- hood and youth with miracles — but there was nothing mar- Telous about it. So far from having displayed any pre- cocity of genius, he was rather a common-place boy. The only quality he was distinguished for in his childhood on his own confession, was obstinacy. Even after the Seige of Toulon, his mother and the friends of the family regarded Joseph, his elder brother, as his superior. His conduct on the 13th Yendemaire, [Oct. 4, 1795], was the first display he had ever made of the elements of true greatness. He grew up rather slow ; and this may account for the sturdi- ness of his growth. It has often been observed that " late springs produce the greatest plenty." The lioness may pro- duce but one whelp at a birth — but it is a lion : and the oak which defies a thousand whirlwinds, grows slow. II. The first twenty-five years of Napoleon's life he was gro\v- ing down — but when he started up, he shot to the stars. He has titles enough to greatness, without borrowing plumes from the gratuitous bedeckings of prurient writers. On every subsequent emergency he displayed capacity for which his contemporaries found no parallel- He outstripped the . standard measurements of power in all its forms, and dis- tanced competition at exevj step. 52 NAPOLEON. Ill, It has often been remarked by superficial authors that Napoleon rose at a favorable moment — that events were waiting for him. It is true — but not in the sense they un- derstand it. It was a favorable moment for a great pilot to seize the helm — ^for the ship was driving on the rocks — but it took a mighty hand to guide her. The fiery chariot of Revolution was rolling by, but every Phaeton who had mounted the flying-car, had been dashed to pieces. It had crushed a thousand leaders in the dust, and was still careering its lightning-way over the bosom of France. Napoleon sprang to the car, and drove it whither- soever he listed. His will was too strong for everything but omnipotence ! — He had a great opportunity, but to at- tempt to grasp it would have been fatal to any other man. He reached the shore when it was strewn with the wreck of a whole mob of great men. Among them lay the man- gled corpse of Robespierre — that coward demon of the Reign of Terror. This Canute of a political ocean con- trolled the waves. IV. In an age of Heroes he became the first of Soldiers — in an age of Kings the only monarch men feared — in a century and a country of trappings, and lace, and powder, the master of the only brilliant Court — in an age of a hundred Sove- reigns, the only throne-maker. And whatever he built, he constructed out of Chaos. It grew, too, by the act of his own will ; as the wand of the Genii built the palace for Aladdin. His palaces, too, were inhabited, not by the puling inheritors of Hapsburgh sceptres ; but by the Great- Hearts of the People — who lived in the air of Liberty and Battle — who had trampled old crowns into the dust, and' made new ones more to their liking — kingdoms cut out of Feudal domains, by the only real Damascus blade — Heroism I napoleon's education. 58 V. The traveler who visits Corsica, should give a few hours for a ride to the Country Villa of the Bonaparte Family. Passing up the lawn where rude peasants now press their vintage, he will go through the old Villa into the garden, where his ears will ring with the echoes of the gay shouts of that infantile horde of kings and queens, that played there in their childhood ! There is nothing marvelous after all, in the spirit of My- thology. Hero-worship is an instinctive sentiment. The Classic Lands were peopled by heroes, and history turned them into divinities. In those days, when all was so fair and innocent in the garden of the Bonaparte Villa at Corsica, and the death-flood was submerging France, there were many groups of infant triflers the world has never heard of. But in this home-nest, there was an Eagle ; and when he soared, he bore with him his little companions to the summits of the earth. So much for heroism. Historians have set these talons growing too quick — as if there were danger they would not grow fast and large enough ! Young Napoleon was not an extraordinary boy. His boyhood was filled with moodiness, solitude and reflection. VII. =^ It was decided that Napoleon should be a soldier and in his tenth year he was sent to the Military School at Brienne as a pensioner of the king. He was a poor boy ; and his position often and for many years subjected him to the keenest mortification. The school was made up chiefly, of the sons of the proud old JYobksse of the realm, whose ancestry dated from the times of Charlo- 5-i NAPOLEOX BONAPARTE. magne. They were furnished with all the appliances of luxury, and they inherited the pride as well as the sou- venirs of their race. Napoleon was prouder than they ; and he seldom mingled with those he so earnestly de- spised. The five years he passed at Brienne, were made up of solitude, secret suffering, chagrin and study. But when his course was finished, he went through his examina- tion so well, he was recommended by his masters for ad- mission to the Royal Military School at Paris, where he came within the vortex of the Revolution. VIII. Although his genius alone, had given him the passport to tliis focal point of rank and refinement to which others were admitted only by the accident of birth, or the favor of the court, he encountered a still more intolerable, and repelling atmosphere ; for while every third boy that looked on him, was a duke from his cradle, the young Corsican was still a pensioner of the king! It is easy to imagine how the pride of a boy like Napoleon, must have been stung by the imperious manners of his haughty companions ; and what he suffered, inflamed in his soul a deep contempt for mere hereditary rank, and a love for popular rights. He declaimed violently against 'the luxury in which his rich companions were indulged ; and drew the contrast between their education, and the manner in which the Spartans trained up their sons. His feelings were so deep on the subject, that on being reproved by an uncle of the Dutchess d'Albrantes, for ingratitude as a pensioner of the king, he furiously broke out with an expression of his indignation — " Silence," said the gentleman, at whose table he was sitting — " It ill becomes vou who are educated by the king's bounty, to speak as 55 you do." Those at the table afterwards said, they thought he would have been stifled with rage. He turned red and pale in an instant, and said, " I am not educated at the king's expense — but at the expense of the nation.'^ He addressed a memorial to the chief of the school, re- monstrating against the luxurious elegance of the young nobles ; and attempted to show, that no men could be fitted for the hardships of military life, without habits of greater independence. That they should be obliged to clean their own rooms, groom their own horses, and inure themselves to some of the hardships they would encounter in war — " If,'' said he one day, " I were king of France I would change this state of things very quick." — He had the satis faction of doing this before he became king ! IX. The three years he spent in the school at Paris, decided his character and history. He was standing by the side of the crater of the Revolution, and he grew feverish with its subterranean fires. He was nurturing deep in his soul, the passions and principles that were to guide his life. He mingled little in society ; but he saw much of the people, and took sides irrevocably with the cause of the nation. This has always been a Bonaparte trait. His studies were prosecuted with zeal and intensity. He made such advancement in mathematics, that the great La Place, by whom he was ex- amined for admission to the army, could not withhold a public expression of his admiration and praise. He read pro- foundly all the great Histories of men and nations ; while his closest and deepest studies were given to Tacitus, that profound master of political wisdom, and Plutarch, the sculptor of ancient Heroes. The wild and gorgeous poems of Ossian had just flashed on Europe. Gleaming with the 56 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. chivalry ol* an ideal age, and filled with dim solemn pictures of love, victory and death, those wonderful writings became his favorite poems throughout life. They are filled with scenes not unlike some in his own history. While he was scaling the summits of the Great St. Bernard amidst the desolations of an eternal winter, and when his cannon waked the echoes of the holy mountains of Judea, that had once responded to the voice of God, he must have recalled the awful imagery of Ossian. Thus it was that his intellec- tual, social, political and military character was formed. His intimacy at this time with the learned Abbe Raynal, contributed materially to his intellectual progress ; and during this period he must have learned nearly all that he ever knew of books ; since his subsequent life was passed cliiefly in camps, battles, courts and cabinets. X. In August, 1785, he received his first commission in the army ; and he had just completed his 16th year when he joined his Artillery at Yalence as Second Lieutenant. He now moved more in society, and frequented intimately the family of Madame Colombier — an accomplished lady, to whose daughter he offered his hand in marriage. But the "pennyless Lieutenant" was rejected. The girl married. Napoleon met her at Lyons after he became Emperor, and placed her as Lady of Honor to one of his sisters, and pro- vided a good place for her husband in the public service. XI. But most of his leisure at Valence was devoted to study, and he competed anonymously for a prize offered by the A^cademy of Lyons for the best essay on a thesis proposed by Raynal — " What institutions are best calculated to promole NAPJLEOX IX THE ARMY. 57 / the highest happiness of a nation ?" Many years later Talley- rand found the successful manuscript and showed it to the Emperor, who glanced over a page or two and cast it into the fire. He also meditated a History of the Revolutions of his na- tive Island, and had nearly prepared a portion of it for pub- lication, [two chapters in manuscript being still in the pos- session of the Earl of Ashburnham], which after being carefully read by Raynal, he thought worthy of sending to Mirabeau, who, on returning the manuscript to Raynal, said, " That it indicated a genius of the first order." His studies were soon broken by the explosion of the Revolution. He had been promoted to a first lieutenancy, and early in 1792 he became a Captain of Artillery. He was in Paris during the terrible summer of that year and witnessed the insur- rection of June 20, and the terrible assault on the Tuilleries. From one of its terraces he saw the head of poor Louis crowned with the Cap of Liberty by the mob. Fired with indignation he said to Bourienne, who was standing at his side — " Why did they give way to that Canaille ! I would have blown five hundred of them into the air, and the rest would have taken to their heels." Napoleon always abhor- red anarchy. He said there was no remedy for mobs but grape-shot. He witnessed also the terrific 10th of August : another assault on the Palace — the National Guard joining the in- surgents — the royal family flying for refuge to the National Assembly — the massacre of the Swiss Guards at their posts — the infernal howlings of a brutal mob drenched in blood carrying on pikes the dripping heads of their fellow-citizens. Napoleon withdrew with horror and disgust from Paris, and with a leave of absence visited his mother at Corsica. 68 NAPOLEOX BONAPAETE. XII. Paoli, who had been made Governor of Corsica by the National Assembly, was now endeavoring to bring the Island under the government of England ; and he tried to seduce Napoleon from his loyalty to France. The old Cor- sican Patriot slapped him on the shoulder and said good-na- turedly, " You are modeled after the ancients — you are one of Plutarch's men." This was true — but it did not win Na- poleon ; and although Paoli had been his idol from his child- hood, he now deserted him forever. Corsica yielded to England — Napoleon fought to save it. He saw Ajaccio laid in ashes, and the home of his childhood burned. The Bon-a- partes escaped from the Island for an asylum in France, and Napoleon returned to Paris. XIII. The head of Louis XYL, had rolled from the block, [21st Jan. 1793], a gauntlet for the monarchies of Europe ; and a month after, the Convention had declared Y^ar against England. This precipitated all Europe on France, and kings leagued together to crush her Republic. The Bour- bon party was still strong in France, particularly in the South, where they had delivered the great arsenal and sea- port of Toulon, into the hands of England : The arsenal was filled with military stores ; and twenty -fiv_e English and Span- ish line-of-battle-ships were riding in the harbor. The Con vention bent all its forces at once to the recovery of Toulon The Seige had been now four months in progress — ^but the in competency of one commander, and the cowardice of his sue cesser, left the place untaken. Napoleon was dispatched from Paris to take command of the artillery. He arrived, examined the works, detected the blunders of the com- mander — formed a plan of attack — and was at last allowed NAPOLEON AT TOULON" /)9 to carry it into execution, by General Dugommier. "While he was collecting his artillery, and planting batteries of 200 guns, with Duroc and Junot to aid him, he displayed what he afterwards became so distinguished for — an apparently total insensibility to fatigue. He worked through daylight, and slept nights by his guns till his batteries were ready when the attack began. XIV. Eight thousand bombs and shells were thrown into Little Gibraltar Castle, which shattered the walls, and at day- break the French with the dauntless Muiron for a leader, rushed over them, and put the whole garrison to the sword. This fort commanded the harbor, and Napoleon, had said that the only way to get Toulon, was to carry Little Gibraltar, and the city would surrender in two days. His words were prophetic. He turned the new batteries he had seized, in another direction, and poured down a destructive fire upon the hostile fleets. The scene which followed for many hours baffles description. Upwards of 14,000 o£ the Bourbonists crowding the shores to find refuge from the Republican victors on board the fleets which were now moving out to sea — the explosion of vessels and arsenals — the merciless shower of shells falling from the French bat- teries — the screams of thousands of women — the groans of the wounded and dying — and spreading flames ; all mingled in a drama of terror, death and victory. Napoleon's science and valor had thus saved France from humiliation — taught her enemies to respect her — suppressed the spirit of insurrection in the Southern Provinces and given the government of the Convention control of the whole army. His name was not mentioned in the Dispatch of the Representatives, giving an account of the conflict- But a truly great man can always aff'ord to bide his time. 60 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. XV. Under tlie same General Dugommier, lie was appointed to join the army of Italy at Nice, for the Campaign against Piedmont, with the rank of Chef de Battalion. His skill and boldness gave success to the expedition. He suggested the plan which resulted in the expulsion of the Piedmontese from the Col di Tende, [7th March, 1794], the strong for- tification of Saorgio with its rich stores capitulated — and the maritime Alps fell into the hands of France. But again his superiors reaped the honors of victory, and so far from deriving any credit or advantage from his achievements, he was arrested on the fall of Eobespierre, and thrown into prison. History has finally branded the meanness of this proceeding upon Salicetti — a Corsican adventurer who had risen into temporary power in France, and who resolved to crush his young countryman, whose genius he compre- hended, and whose future eminence he foresaw. Salicetti was, however, foiled in his malicious attempt on the life of Napoleon. He succeeded, however, so far — that Napoleon was declared unworthy of public confidence and dismissed from the army, [July 28, 1794]. In a bold, concise and energetic letter to the Committee of Public Safety, he says, * * u You have suspended me from my functions — arrested, and declared me suspected. Therein you have branded me without judging — or rather judged without hearing. * * Hear me ; destroy the oppression tha. environs me and restore me in the estimation of patrioti men. An hour after, if villains desire my life, I shall esteen it but little : I have despised it often." The resolution was reconsidered, and he was released provisionally from arrest and offered the command of a (general of Infantry in La Yendee, which he indignantly refused. NAPOLEON DISMISSED FROM THE ARMY. 61 XYI. It is a strange spectacle — to see the young officer struck from the rolls of the French army by the very men who afterwards contended for the honor of the meanest posts in his Empire, and one of whom (Salicetti) owed to Napoleon's magnanimity his life, which his vil- lainy had forfeited a hundred times. He withdrew for a while from Paris, and joined his family who were living in very reduced circumstances at Marseilles. It appears that he there formed another tender attachment, and would have married Mademoiselle Clery, [who afterwards became the wife of Bernadotte and queen of Sweden], had it not been for his poverty, which was now extreme. In the month of May, [1795], Napoleon returned to Paris and applied to the Government for employment. He had fixed his eye on the East, that old theatre of Empire, and he asked for a mission to Turkey, to render that kingdom a more formidable barrier against the encroach- ments of Russia and England — to repair the old defences and erect new ones, and diffuse through the East the spirit of modern civilization. There were doubtless dreams of glory and the charm of adventure in his imagination. Bourienne remarks that " if the Committee had written granted at the bottom of the application, it would have changed the fate of Europe." So the young soldier turned away dejected ; and had it not been for his friend Junot, who divided with him his purse, he would most likely have grown desperate. It is more than probable that the timely arrival from Junot's mother of a small sum of money, which he at once shared with Napoleon, kept him from suicide. But events were thickening, and the idle and neglected young aspirant was soon to find scope for all his activity. 62 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. XVII. Once more Paris was on the eve of a Revolution — and again 40,000 of the National Guard were in arms against the Goverment. A collision had taken place, [3rd Oct.], when the troops of the Convention were drawn off by the Commander. The insurgents were prepared to attack the Palace the next morning, put an end to the National Convention and take the Government into their own hands. There was no time for trilling when the Convention assembled. " There is but one' man who can save us," said Barras to his colleagues : and Napo- leon's name was at once proposed, as second in com- mand under Barras. The convention confirmed the choice by a decree, and Napoleon was present during the pro- ceedings. He hesitated half an hour before he gave his answer. He accepted the trust on the sole conditio a that he should not be interfered with by the represent- atives of the people. The trembling Convention yielded to the condition, and without the loss of a minute began his preparations for the morrow which was to decide whether the mob should triumph and France lose all the fruits of her Revolution, or law and order be estab- lished. Murat, Junot and many of the best officers of France, were flying all night through Paris collecting cannon and arranging the forces. XVIII. When the morning reveil sounded, the 40,000 insurgents began their march in compact and heavy columns from every section of Paris up to the Palace. The column which was advancing along the Rue St. Honore, found a detachment of Napoleon's troops drawn up to dispute their passage, with two cannon. The National Guards leveled their muskets— QUELLIXG OF THE SECTIONS. 63 but a flint had hardly struck fire before a storm of grape- shot swept them from the street. The signal had been given, and all Napoleon's batteries, throughout the city, guarding the bridges of the Seine and the approaches to the Tuilleries, poured forth their murderous fire in all directions. In less than forty minutes the victory was complete, and the 40,000 insurgents had fled, leaving the streets where they stood barricaded with the wounded and the dead, and drenched with their blood. Napoleon gave orders for the instant disarming of the Sections ; and the sun went down as calmly over the helpless city as though nothing had hap- pened. The supremacy of the laws had been triumphantly asserted — life and property were secure in Paris for half a century. That same evening the theatres were opened and illuminated, and there were general rejoicings. Napoleon's star rose that night above the horizon, and began to mount and blaze towards the zenith". The victor was rewarded by the appointment of General- in-Chief of the Army of the Interior. All Paris rushed to catch a glimpse of the Commander. To give France the full benefit of the 13th Yendemaire, everything was to be done, and Napoleon had to do it. His labors were enor- mous ; but he still found time for study, and frequented very little the gay society of the Capital. As Commander of Paris, he had to hold his Military Levees, at one of which an incident occurred one morning which claims its place even in this brief sketch. A beautiful boy about twelve years old approached Napoleon and said, " My name is Eugene Beauharnais. My father, Viscount and a General of the Republican Armies, has died by the guillitone, and I am come to pray you to give me his sword." Napcloon 64 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTB. complied with his request, and the boy covered it with his Kisses and tears. He ran with it to his mother, who, pene- trjited with gratitude, went to the General the following day, to thank him, in person. That interview had much to do with his future life. XX. The Reign of Terror had ended with the death of Robes- pierre, and order had been restored in Paris. The Govern- ment had time now to provide for the external affairs of the State, and the Army of Italy, languishing under a nerveless Commander, demanded its first attention. It had accom- plished nothing since Bonaparte was dismissed from it in disgrace, and the Directory resolved to send them a new General. All eyes were turned towards Napoleon, and he re- ceived the command, without a rival or superior in his camp. XXI. On the 9th of March, 1796, the young Conqueror of the Sections married Josephine Beauharnais, and a few days later set out to take command of the Army of Italy. He traversed France with the swiftness of a courier, spent a few hours with his mother at Marseilles, [whose comfort and independence were now provided for], and before the expiration of the month, he thus addressed his army of 50,000 destitute and disheartened men in Italy : — " Soldiers ! — You are hungry and naked : the Republic owes you much, but she has nothing to give you. Your en- durance amidst these barren rocks deserves admiration ; but it brings you no glory. I come to lead you to the most fer- tile plains the sun shines on. Opulent provinces and large towns will soon be in our power, and there you will reap riches and glory. Soldiers of Italy ! — will you be wanting in courao-e ?'' THE ARMY OF ITALY. G5 This was the first word of encouragement the army of Italy had heard ; and it shot martial enthusiasm thruogh their veins like electric fire. Under the incompetent man- agement of Scherer that great army had been broughr. to wretchedness and want, and their horses had died of famine. And yet their battalions were headed by such officer^? as Massena, Menard, Surrurier, Laharpe, Rampon, Joubert, Lannes, and Augereau, and a hundred others thirsting for battle. In his dispatch to the Directory of the 8th April, the Commander-in-Chief says, " I found this army destitute of everything and without discipline. Insubordination and discontent had gone so far that a party for the Dauphin had been formed in camp, and they were singing songs op- posed to the tenets of the Revolution. You may, however, rest assured that peace and order will be restored. By the time you receive this letter, we shall have met the enemy.'' XXII. Napoleon's career of victory began as it continued, in defiance of the established rules of warfare ; and what dis- tinguished him above all his contemporaries was his ability to (ionvert the most unfavorable circumstances into the means of success. Where other men would have recoiled from inevitable death, he advanced to decisive victory. Where other generals saw reasons for discouragement, he horrowed inspiration for hope. He now found himself under the weight of a responsibility seldom cast upon so young a man. He was in the dominions of hostile sovereigns whose royal kinsmen had died by (lie guiliotine in the Reign of Terror. The Sardinian King was father-in-law to both the brothers of Louis XVI., and Maria Antoinette was sister to the Emperor of Austria. He was G6 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. moreover, in a land which had been ruled for ages by the Hierarchy of Rome, who saw in the French Revolution only the desxruction of God's altars and the murder of his priests. He was obliged to provide resources for himself in an enemy's country, and within a day's march of him lay three powerful armies, with either of which it seemed mad ness to attempt to cope. He had yet achieved no fame in the held, and not a general in Europe would have blamed him if he had only succeeded in holding the territory of Nice and Savoy, which France had already won. XXIII. But his views were bounded by no such limits. He un- dertook to accomplish three objects — so great, that the conception of either indicated the vastness of his mind, and the measure of his confidence. Firsts to compel the King of Sardinia — ^with a strong army in the field, to aban- don his alliance with Yienna. Second^ to force Austria to concentrate her forces in her Italian Provinces, thus obliging her to withdraw them from the bank of the Rhine. Thirds to humble the power of the Vatican, and break the 'prestige of its Jesuitical diplomacy forever. , To accomplish these bold endeavors with such slider means, [and of his 50,000 men only 25,000 could be brought into the field], he was obliged to forget all that men had taught about the art of war, and invent a system for him- self — a system in which the favors of fortune might be won by the daring of chivalry ; and genius and intrepidity atono for numbers in battle. He knew he would have to deal with veteran soldiers and experienced generals: — men who had learned the art of war before he was born. He there- fore resolved that every movement should be made with celerity, and every blow l;eveleci where it was least expected. VICTORY OF MOXTE-NOTTE. 67 XXIY. Beaiilieu, the Austrian General, witli a powerful, disci- plined and well-appointed army determined to cut off Na- poleon's advance into Italy. He posted himself with one column at Yoltri, a town on the sea, ten miles west of Genoa • — D'Argenteau with another column occupied the heights of Monte-Notte, while the Sardinians, led by General Colli, formed the right of the line at Ceva. This disposition was made in compliance with the old system of tactics. But it was powerless before new strategy. On the morning of the 12th April, when D'Argenteau advanced from Monte- Notte to attack the column of Rampon, he found that by skillful manoeuvers during the night Napoleon had com- pletely surrounded him. He fought gallantly, but seeing that to continue the battle would only end in destruction, he fled to the mountain-fastnesses, leaving his colors and cannon, with 1000 dead and 2000 prisoners on the field. This was the centre of the great Austrian Army. It was completely routed before either of the wings, or even the Commander-in-Chief knew that a battle had begun. This was the Victory of Moxte-Notte — from which Napoleon dated the origin of his nobility. XXY. Beaulieu fell back on Dego where he could open his com- munication with Colli, who had retreated to Millesimo. They were again strongly posted, and dispatching couriers to Milan, intended to wait for reinforcements before they risked another engagement. But they were not dealing with an old general, and this respite they could not have. The morning after the victory of Monte-Notte, Napoleon dispatched Augereau to attack Millesimo ; Massena to fall 68 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. on Dego, and La Harpe, to turn the flank of Beaulieu. Mas- sena carried the heights of Biastro at the point of the bayo- net, while La Harpe dislodged the Austrian General from his position, which separated him hopelessly from the Sar- dinian commander, and put him to precipitate flight. Mean- time Augereau had seized the outposts of Millesimo and cut ofi' Pro vera with 2000 men from Calli's army. The next morning. Napoleon who had arrived in the night, forced Calli to battle — shattered his army, and put them to flight — Provera surrendered to escape slaughter. Hotly pursued by the victors, Calli rallied his fugitives at Mondovi, where they again yielded to the irresistible onset of the French. He left his baggage and cannon, and his best troops, on the field. The Sardinian army had ceased to exist, and the Austrians were flying to the frontiers of Lombardi. Napoleon entered Cherasco — a strong place ten miles from Turin, where he dictated the terms by which alone the Sardinian King could still wear a crown. From the castle where he stood, and looking off upon the garden-fields of Lombardy, which had gladdened the eyes of so many con- querors, with the Alps behind him, glittering in their peren- nial snows. Napoleon said to his ofiicers, " Hannibal forced the Alps — we have turned them." The following Bulletin sums up the history of the campaign to this moment : — ■ " Soldiers ! in fifteen days you have gained six victories, taken twenty-one stand of colors, fifty -five pieces of cannon several fortresses, and conquered the ricFest part of Piedmont You have made 15,000 prisoners, killed or wounded upwards of 1 0,000 men. Hitherto you have fought for barren rocks, rendered famous by your valor, but useless to your country. Your services now equal those of the victorious army of Holland and the Rhine. You have provided yourselves with everything of which you were destitute — You have gained FLIGHT OF THE AUSTRIaNS. 69 Ijattles without cannon, passed rivers without bridges, made forced marches without shoes, bivouacked without strong liquors, and often without bread. Eepublican phalanxes, Sol- diers of Liberty, only could have endured all this. Thanks for your perseverance, and if your conquest of Toulon pre- saged the immortal campaign of 1793, your present victories presage a still nobler. But, Soldiers, you have done nothing while so much remains to do. Neither Turin nor Milan are yours. The ashes of the Conquerors of the Tarquins are still trampled by the assassins of Basseville." To the Italians he said : — " People of Italy ! The French army come to break your chains. The People of France are the friends of all nations — confide in them. Your property, your religion and your customs shall be respected. We make war with those tyrants alone who enslave you." His army flushed with victory, were eager to continue their march, and the People of Italy hailed Napoleon as their deliverer. The Sardinian King did not long survive the humiliation of his crown — he died of a broken heart. In the meantime the couriers of Napoleon were almost every hour riding into Paris with the news of his victories, and five times in six days the Representatives of France had decreed that the army of Italy deserved well of their country. XXVII. The Austrian General concentrated his flying battalions behind the Po, between Turin and Milan, with the hope of arresting the French Army in their victorious march to the Capital of Lombardy. In his descent to Piedmont he had crossed that great river at Valenza, and he supposed Napo- leon would do the same. But the French had crossed the Po at Piacenza, fifty miles below, before Beaulieu knew they 70 NAPOLEON BOX AP ARTE. were in motion ; and tiiis hazardous feat had been performed without the loss of a man. The Austrian followed him, ir- tending to bring him to an engagement, with the Po in his rear. But Napoleon forced his march on to Fombio, where as the advanced columns met [8th May,] the French carried the day at the point of the bayonet. Leaving their cannon in the hands of the enemy the Austrians crossed the Adda, another large stream behind which Beaulieu gathered his forces, posting strong guards at every" ford of the river, particularly at the wooden Bridge of Lodi, which by a fatal mistake he left standing. But at that place he planted a battery of 30 cannon, so arranged that they could sweep every plank of the Bridge. XXVIII. Napoleon came up and resolved to bring on the battle at once. While he was making his preparations, he dis- patched a heavy body of Cavalry to cross the river by a dis- tant ford, and hold themselves in readiness to fall on the Austrian rear, while Napoleon charged across the' Bridge. He watched anxiously, and at the first sign of their appear- ance in the distance, he gave the order to advance, and a column of grenadiers rushed on the Bridge mingling their shouts of Vive la Republique with the roar of the Austrian can- non which were raining grape-shot into their ranks. The solid masses of indomitable valor recoiled for a momen when they received the storm. But Napoleon and his prin cipal officers rushed to their head — ;the French bugles again sounded to the charge, and the irresistible tide swept the Bridge as the waves sweep the floods of the ocean. Lannes was the first man who cleared the Bridge and Napoleon the second. The batteries were carried — the men bayoneted at their guns, and the on-rushing phalanx plunged into the very BULLETIXS OF VICTORY. 71 heart of the Austrian column. Meantime the French Cav- alry were doing their work of death on the rear. Once more Beaulieu's army was broken and put to flight. When Europe heard of the battle they named the Conqueror " the Hero of Lodi." The few men still living who mingled in the carnage of that day, never mentioned the name of Lodi without a shudder. The Battle of Lodi gave the victor con- trol of the home of the Lombard kings, whose massive gates flew open four days after for his triumphal entry. He is- sued the following order of the day to his men : — XXIX. " Soldiers ! You have precipitated yourselves like a tor- rent from the Appenines. You have overwhelmed or swept before you all that opposed your march. Piedmont, deliv- ered from Austrian oppression, has returned to her natural sentiments of peace and friendship toward France. Milan is yours; and over all Lombardy floats the flag of the Republic. " To your generosity only, do the Dukes of Parma and of Modena now owe their political existence. The army which proudly threatened you, finds no remaining barrier against your courage. The Po, the Tessino, the Adda, could not stop you a single day. Those vaunted ramparts of Italy proved insufficient ; you traversed them as rapidly as jon did the Appenines. Successes so numerous and brilliant have carried joy to the heart of your country. Your repre- sentatives have decreed a festival to be celebrated in all the Communes of the Republic, in honor of your victories. Tlien will your fathers, mothers, wives, sisters, all who hold you dear, rejoice over your triumphs and boast that you belong to them. "Yes, Soldiers, you have done much; but much still re 72 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. mains for you to do. Shall it be said of us — we know how to conquer, but not to profit by victory. Shall posterity re- proach us with having found a Capua in Lombardy ? Nay, fellow-soldiers ! I hear you already crying, ' to arms V In- action fatigues you ; and days lost to glory are to you days lost to happiness. Let us then begone ! We have yet many forced marches to make ; enemies to vanquish ; laurels to gather ; and injuries to avenge. Let those who have sharp- ened the poniards of civil war in France, who have pusil- lanimously assassinated our Ministers, who have burned our vessels at Toulon — let them now tremble! The hour of vengeance has sounded ! " But let not the people be disquieted. We are the friends of every people ; and more especially of the descendants of the Brutuses, the Scipios, and other great men, to whom we look as bright exemplars. To reestablish the Capital ; to place there with honor the statues of the heroes who made it memorable ; to rouse the Roman People, unnerved by many centuries of oppression — such will be some of the fruits of our victories. They will constitute an epoch for posterity. To you, Soldiers, will belong the immortal honor of redeeming the fairest portions of Europe. The French People, free and respected by the whole world, shall give to Europe a glorious peace, which shall indemnify it for all the sacrifices which it has borne, the last six years. Then by your own firesides you shall repose, and your fellow-citizens when they point out any one of you, shall say :—^ lie belonged to the Army of Italy.' " XXX. At the end of five days, his columns again started in pur- suit of the discomfited Beaulieu, who had fled beyond the Mincio, with his left wing resting on the impregnable Castle MARSHAL WURMSEE MARCHES TO ITALY. 7S of Mantua, " the citadel of Italy," and liis right on the Venetian fortress of Peschiera. He had chosen one of the strongest positions in Europe. Napoleon forced the passage of the Mincio at Borghetta, and Beaulieu was compelled to abandon that river and fall back on the Adige. On the day of this last victory, Napoleon was surprised by a detach- ment of the enemy, and narrowly escaped falling into Beaulieu's hands. He now organized a small band of chosen men to watch over his person — and these guides grew at last into the Imperial Guard of Napoleon. The French General had now stripped Austria of all her Italian possessions except Mantua, and the tri-color was waving from the Tyrol to the Mediterranean. He was now in effect master of Italy. But the Cabinet of Vienna saw that a more earnest and vigorous struggle must be undertaken, or the victor who annihilated her Italian army and wrested from her her Italian dominions, would soon march into the heart of her Empire, and dictate a peace under the walls of her Capitol. A new army was therefore drafted from the Austrian forces oii the Bhine, and at their head the veteran Marshal Wurm- ser, began his march over the Tyrol, to atone for the reverses of Beaulieu, on the plains of Italy. ^ ~ XXXI. He had 80,000 of the best troops in the world under liis command, and Napoleon had scarcely a third of that num- ber. But Wurmser's first movement after fixing his head- quarters at Trent was fatal. He divided his magnificent army — which, united, Napoleon never could have met — into three columns, each of which was successively broken and captured. Melas with the left wing, was to march down the Adige and expel the French from Verona — Quasdono 74 NAPOLEOX BOXAPARTE. wicli with the right wing, followed the valley of the Chiese, toward Brescia, to cut off Napoleon's retreat on Milan, while the Marshal himself led on the centre down the left shore of Lake Guarda toward the still besieged Castle of Mantua. The eye of Napoleon, who had hitherto been watching with the intensity of an eagle's gaze all the movements of his antagonist, now saw the division of Quasdonowich separated from the centre and left wing ; aiid he flew to the encounter. But he was obliged to draw off his army from the seige of Mantua — which not one general in a hundred would have done. On the night of July 31st, he buried his cannon in the trenches, and intentionally marked his retreat with every sign of precipitation and alarm. But a courier could have hardly borne to Quasdonowich the news of his raising the siege of Mantua, before Napoleon had attacked and overwhelmed him, and he was glad to save his shattered forces by falling back on the Tyrol. XXXII. This ill-omened beginning fired the blood and quickened the evolutions of Wurmser, and falling on the rear -guard of Massena under Pigeon, and Augereau under Yallette, the one shamefully abandoned Castiglione, and the other retired on Lonato. These inconsiderable successes were gained by good generalship, and the brave Marshal now attempted to open his communication with his defeated Lieutenant. His column was weakened by extending tha line, and an electric movement of Massena regained Lonato, and cut the Mar- shal's division in two. The flight of some regimeu'ts, the surrender of others, and the confusion of all, left on history the Battle of Lonato. The brave old German, however, rallied his battalias at Castiglione, where Augereau, who was determined to wipe DEFEAT OF WURMSER. 75 out the disgrace of Yallette, achieved a victory so brilliant, that Napoleon afterwards created him Duke of Castiglione — a lasting souvenir of the gallant achievement. The rout of the Austrian army was complete ; its dis- comfited columns were flying in all directions toward the Mincio, and Napoleon's couriers, mounted on the fleetest horses of Lombardy, were riding toward Paris with the news of the defeat of another and a larger army of Aus- trians, headed by a Marshal of the Empire ! XXXIII. In the midst of this great campaign, an incident occurred on which the fate of Europe for a moment hung. One of the flying divisions of Wurmser's army in passing Lonato, came up suddenly on Napoleon himself, with no protection but his staff and guards. The Austrian officer who went to demand a surrender, was taken blindfolded into the presence of the Commander-in-Chief. Napoleon saved himself by an impromptu stroke. At a secret sign, his staff closed around him. The bandage was stripped from the head of the mes- senger, and he found himself in the presence of Napoleon. " What insolence is this ! Do you even after defeat beard the General of France in the midst of his army ?" The terrified messenger went back to his Commander, related what he had seen, and 4,000 men at once laid down their arms, when, had they known the truth, a tithe of the num- ber could have captured Napoleon and his officers, and put an end to the war. XXXI v. A detailed history of these achievements occupies the pen of the Historian, longer than they did the sword of the Conqueror. This campaign against Wurmser lasted but seven days. But while it lasted. Napoleon's boots were not 76 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. taken off his feet, nor did he sleep one hour at a time I He and his army needed repose, and flushed with victory they could afford to take it. But he pressed on the rear of his enemy, till he had set down before Mantua, dug up his buried cannon, and renewed the siege. The old Marshal had re-victualed the fortress, and taken refuge within its walls. But in one week he had lost his stores, artillery and nearly 40,000 men. While Napoleon was giving some respite to his wearied army, suppressing revolts and conspiracies, and rendering the subjugation of Italy complete, Austria was hurrying a new army to the relief of its aged, but not disheartened Marshal. The reinforcements arrived, and Wurmscr again was in the field with an army vastly larger than Napoleon's. But again he split his army into divisions, and again each division was to be cut to pieces. He marched 30,000 to the relief of Mantua, and left Davidowich at Rover edo with 20,000 to protect the passes of the Tyrol. ' XXXY. The two Austrian divisions were now separated and their fate was sealed. On the 4th September, by the most rapid marches Europe had seen, Napoleon reached Roveredo, where Davidowich was intrenched in a strong position be- fore the city, covered by the guns of the Galliano Castle overhanging the town. The camp was yielded before the terrific charge of Dubois and his huzzars, and his dying words as he fell — " Let me hear the ^hout of victory for the Republic before I die" — fired his troops with deeper ardor. They drove the Austrians through the town, and carried the frowning heights of the Castle at the point of the bayonet as they had carried the batteries of Lodi. A town, a castle, 15 cannon, and 7,000 prisoners ! — We find these items in tlie MARSHAL ALYIXZI SENT TO ITALY. 77 dispatcli of Napoleon on the evening of the Battle op ROVEREDO ! Wurmser had not recovered from his dismay on the news of the overthrow of his Lieutenant, before Napoleon, by a march of sixty miles in two days, descended on his Van- guard, at Primolano, and cut it to pieces. An hour after his army were advancing on Bassano, where [8th Sept.] Wurmser made his last stand. After the most heroic resist- ance he again fled from the frightful onset of the Repub- lican phalanxes. Six thousand Austrians laid down their arms — and the hunted Wurmser and his paralyzed army took refuge in Mantua, Y/hither they vvere pursued by the eagle- cavalry of Napoleon. Again a call was made on Vienna to send a new army, and a greater general, to restore the Hapsburgh dominion in Italy. XXXYI Another powerful armament was at once dispatched to the Italian frontier, and this fourth campaign against Napo- leon was intrusted to the supreme command of Alvinzi, another illustrious Marshal of the Empire. In less than thirty days from the defeat of Wurmser, this new army had met the French. Vaubois and Massena were forced to yield to superior numbers. Trent and Bassano were abandoned, and even Napoleon had retreated on Verona. Austria seemed likely in this campaign to recover her immense losses. Again Napoleon had to contend with an enemy vastly his superior in numbers, and most completely ap- pointed. Tv/clve new battalions only had been sent to hira from France to recruit his decimated and exhausted regi- ments, and nothing but the exercise of the highest military genius could even save him from destruction. His army, too, from their recent reverses, no longer displayed their 78 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. wonted fire, and his generals began in some measure to dis- trust fortune. But the genius of Napoleon rose with the occasion and mastered the exigency. The abandonment of Galliano by Yaubois had inflamed the indignation, and wounded the pride of the Conqueror of Wurmser. He ordered Vaubois's division to be drawn up on the plain of Rivoli and thus addressed them : — " Soldiers ! I am not satisfied with you : You have shown neither bravery, discipline, nor perseverance : No position could rally you : You abandoned yourselves to a panic- terror : You suffered yourselves to be driven from situa- tions where a handful of brave men might have stopped an army. Soldiers of the 39th and 85th, you are not French soldiers. Quartermaster-general, let it be inscribed on their colors, * They no longer belong to the army of Italy!'" XXXVII. The effect of these words was overwhelming. The vete- ran Grenadiers sobbed like children, and a thousand cheeks which had gone unblanched through the carnage of Lodi, were wet with tears and burned with shame. They broke out from their ranks and clustered around their general, trembling under his terrific displeasure. They pleaded once more for their arms and their colors— the}^ begged once more to be led to battle that they might wipe out the dis- grace. Their general forgave them, and when they were again unleashed on the enemy they swept him before them like a rolling tide of fire. But a spirit of discontent pervaded his entire army. " We , cannot," said they, " work miracles. We destroyed Beaulieu's great army — and then came Wurmser with a greater. We conquered and broke him to pieces— and then came Alvinzi, more powerful than ever. When wo BATTLE OP ARCOLA. 79 have conquered him, Austria will pour down on us a hundred thousand fresh soldiers, and we shall leave our bones in Italy." Napoleon said : — " Soldiers, we have but one more effort to make, and Italy is ours. The enemy is no doubt superior to us in numbers, but not in valor. When he is beaten Mantua must fall, and we shall remain masters of all ; our abors will be at an end ; for not only Italy, but a general peace is in Mantua. You talk of returning to the Alps — but you are no longer capable of doing so. From the dry and frozen bivouacs of those sterile rocks you could very well conquer the delicious plains of Louibardy ; but from the smiling flowery bivouacs of Italy you cannot return to Alpine snows. Only beat Alvinzi and I will answer for your future welfare.'' XXXVIII. There were no more murmurs. The sick and the wounded left the hospitals of Milan, Pavia, Bergamo, Brescia, Cre- mona, and Lodi, to join the army ; and as they came up, day after day — many of them with wounds still bleeding — their comrades embraced them, and along the lines of the French army rang the shout for battle. The French General was now ready, and darting between the two Austrian divisions before Alvinzi knew that he had left Verona, he ordered Augereau at day-break to carry the Bridge of Areola. This movement, even to the intrepid lugereau, seemed to be courting annihilation. But he jbeyed orders and fought most gallantly. His column 'however, at last wavered and turned to fly over the corpses of nearly half their comrades. One moment now lost would have been ruin. Napoleon dashed to tlie head of the col- umn, snatched a standard, and cried out to his grenadiers, 80 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. " Soldiers ! are you no longer the brave warriors of Lodi ? — Follow me." They rushed with him till they grappled the Austrian division. But the arrival of a fresh column of the enemy rendered it an impossibility to carry the Bridge at that moment. The French fell back, and Napoleon was himself seized by his grenadiers by the arms and clothes and dragged along with them through the smoke^ the dead and the dying, and hurled into a morass up to his waist. The Austrians were between him and his baffled column— the battle was decided, and Napoleon, himself was lost ! As the smoke rolled off, the army saw the position of their Commander. The grenadiers formed in an instant, and with the cry — " Forward, soldiers, to save the Generar — launched themselves on the enemy like a bolt of fire. The Austrian column melted away, and was rolled from the Bridge — a blackened, bleeding ruin. Alvinzi's loss was so great it paralyzed his army. He had shared the fate of all his predecessors, and like them sent to Vienna for reinforcements. The news of the Battle op Arcola, [17th November, 1T96], threw France into tran- sports of joy, and filled Europe with consternation. XXXIX. The short interval of fighting, after the day of Areola, had been one of ceaseless activity on the part of Napoleon. Worn out with the oppression of the Austrian yoke, and disgusted with the heartless and hollow mummery of tlie priests, the intelligent classes of Italy, greeted the triumphs of the French arms with joy, and hailed the day-break of a new period of light and advancement. Napoleon knew that the Pope had raised his army to 40,000, and that the King of Naples was ready to unite with ■him and fall on the French the first moment fortune turned THE BATTLE OF RIYOLI. 81 against them. FiDding a secret combination forming against him in every part of Italy, Napoleon no longer hesitated in consolidating as far as he could, the civil poAver of France in the Peninsula, and in compliance with the wishes of the French Party, he organized a Republic for Piedmont and another for Lombardy — They immediately made levies of money and men for carrying on the campaign. XL. Marshal Alvinzi had now completed his preparations for a fresh campaign, and once more [7th January, 1T9T,] at the head of 60,000 soldiers, he descended from the north- ern barriers of Italy, to release the brave Wurmser from his prison at Mantua, and overwhelm the French invaders. It seems incredible, but this Fifth Austrian Army was also divided — one column under Alvinzi, for the line of the Adige, and another for the Brenta, under General Provera, who was to join the Marshal under the walls of Mantua. When Napoleon learned this from his head-quarters at A^erona, he posted Joubert at Rivoli to dispute Alvinzi's passage, and Augereau to watch the movements of Provera — • knowing that he could in a few hours concentrate his own forces on either column where he could fight to the best ad- vantage. An hour after sunset, [13th January], Joubert's messenger brought the news that he had met Alvinzi, and with difficulty held him in check through the day. Napo- leon at once set his column in motion, and by one of his lightning marches reached the heights of Rivoli two hours after midnight. XLI. The Austrian army was clearly visible in the moonlight, lying in five encampments below. Napoleon determined to bring on the battle, before. Alvinzi was ready, and he ac- 82 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. complislied his object. His plan was conceived with the subtlest and most compreliensive genius, and executed with the most consummate skill. From the lofty heights of Kivoli he held the fortunes of that decisive day in hands. For hours the wave of battle ebbed and flowed only at his bidding. The world is familiar with the history of the Bat TLE OF RivoLi. Before the sun, which had risen brilliantly over one of the most splendid armies of Modern Europe Lad reached the zenith, that joyous and confident host had been broken and put to flight. Before the victory was complete. Napoleon, who had had three horses shot under him during the engagement, com- mitted the closing scenes of this sanguinary day to Joubert, Miirat and Massena ; and having heard during the battle, that Provera with his division had already reached the Lake Guarda, where he would at once be able to relieve Wurm- ser, he mounted a fresh horse, and marching all that night and the next day, joined Augereau's division at Mantua, carrying with him, to his exulting comrades, the news of Rivoli. That night Napoleon explored the ground and watched the movements of the enemy. In his rounds he found a grenadier-sentinel asleep. He took the gun and did the sentiners duty till he woke. When the grenadier saw Napoleon he fell on his knees in despair. " Take your musket, my friend," said he — "You had a hard march — I happened to be awake, and did your duty. Somebody must watch, for a moment's inattention now may prove fatal." It is not strange that Napoleon's men were ready to die for him, as so many of them did, to save his life. XLII. The next morning the French General brought Provera to battle in the suburb of St. George, and forced him to re- FALL OF MANTUA* 83 treat, and old Wurmser who had hazarded a sortie from Mantua, was glad to make his way back again, or he would have been taken by a detachment led by Napoleon himself. Pro vera was cut off hopelessly from Alvinzi, surrounded; disheartened and defeated.. He and his 5,000 men laid down their arms. General Rene, with 6,000, surrendered — the Austrian fugitives, from the Brenta to the Adige fol- lowed their example. The magnificent army of Austria had, in three days, ceased to exist! The campaign ended by the capitulation of Mantua. When the gallant old Wurmser was required by the fortunes of war to surrender his sword. Napoleon withdrew, to save the feelings of the aged chief — Serrurier received it with respect. The delicate generosity of the French General was never forgotten by the veteran Marshal. The Direc- tory complained of Napoleon. In reply he said to them, " I granted the Austrians such terms as I thought due to a brave and honorable foe, and to the dignity of the French nation." XLIII. This fifth campaign was the most glorious and decisive of all. The Austrians had lost in it 30,000 men, sixty stands of colors, 500 brass cannon, and an immense quantity of military stores. Augereau was dispatched to France with the captured standards of Austria, and his arrival in Paris was celebrated as a National Festival. The defeat of Alvinzi, and the fall of Mantua recalled in Rome the terror of the days of Alaric ; for it was supposed the Conqueror would soon enter the Eternal City. Victor was in fact sent to the South with 8,000 men, half of whom were Lombards. The papal troops attempted to arrest his progress at Imola, but they were routed, and Faenza was carried by the bayonet. General Colli, with 3,000 men, 81 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. surrendered, and the French division took possession of Ancona. The disgusting tricks and deceptions resorted to by the priests, to operate on the minds of the people, were exposed. An image of the Holy Yirgin at Ancona, which shed tears at the approach of the unholy French, was examined, and her tears turned out to be a string of beads moved by clock-work ! We abstain from other statements of a similar character which degrade their perpetrators, without impairing the glory of religion, or robbing human nature of its dignity. XLIY. Of the vast army of Priests who had fled from popular rage during the Reign of Terror, many had taken refuge in Italy. This class by the thousand trembled at the approach of the victorious General of the Republic of Robespierre. One of them in his despair surrendered himself to Napo- leon, and begged that as his fate was sealed, he might be executed at once. " Why, Father," said Napoleon, *' don't be in a fret to die — you may do much good yet — you will have, at all events, a fine chance to, before we kill you — Be re-assured ; no harm will come to the ministers of religion." And he at once published a proclamation to that effect. The Pope sent an Envoy to Napoleon, who received him with great respBct, and the Treaty of Tolentino [12th Feb., 1797,] was signed, conceding to the French a hundred of the finest works of art, the Castles and Legations of Ferrara, An"cona, Romagna, and Bologna, the ancient papal possession of Avignon in France, and about two millions of dollars. Tuscany had of course yielded to the terms dictated, and Naples foreseeing her doom was ready to submit to the Conqueror. THE ARCH-DUKE CHARLES. 85 XLV. Napoleon now turned towards the North. YeDice, an ancient Republic, still cherished her pride and no small portion of her power ; and she had 50,000 men to bring into the field against Napoleon. But the Doge assured Na- poleon, that his State would preserve neutrality. " Let the neutrality then," said the French General, " be entire and sincere, or the independence of Yenice shall cease to exist." Leaving a few garrisons to watch Venice, Napoleon turned his face towards the Tyrol, and reinforced by 20,000 men from France, prepared to encounter another formidable Austrian army, under a new and more brilliant commander. XLYI. The Arch-Duke Charles, the last great man the Haps- burgh race has produced, had already won the fame of an accomplished general on the Rhine, where he had defeated Moreau and Jourdan, who had no equals in the French army but Napoleon. This heroic young prince and enlight- ened statesman, had heard with mortification of the over- throw of five great armies in Italy, during his own victorious campaign on the Rhine, and he longed to try his strength with the terrible foe of his house. He set out from the palace of his fathers with the sixth and best army Austria could enroll, to retrieve the honor of the. arms of his country, and restore the lost Italian jewels to the crown of Rudolph. The two young generals met on the Taliamento where the struggle began, [March 12, 1797], with i\iQ capture of 5,000 Austrian prisoners and the retreat of the Arch-Duke. The rivals met and fought ten times in twenty days. At last Charles found his army melting away like the snows of the Tyrol, and he turned his face towards Vienna, resolved to make a final stand against his Qntagonist under the walls of B$ NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. the Austrian Capital. Terror-stricken when they heard that Napoleon had stormed the passes of the Julian Alps, the Royal family — embracing little Maria Louisa, then six years old, afterwards Napoleon's wife — fled with their crown jewels and treasures into Hungaryj that loyal and generous ally of the Hapsburgh crown. XL VII. Napoleon now addressed a frank letter to Charles, pro- posing negotiations for peace, which was calculated to pro- duce an effect, since he appealed to him as a brother-soldier who knew the horrors of war, and the writer wrote from the scene of a late victory. The Arch-Duke entered into negotiations, and the Provisional Treaty of Leoben was signed April 18, 1797. Meantime the Yenitian Senate, believing that the dauger was past, had violated their pledge of neutrality, by de- claring war against France, and instigated the Veronese to massacre the wounded French soldiers in their hospitals. In other places the same atrocious butcheries were- perpe- trated. Venice invested most of the towns where Na- poleon's troops were garrisoned — and cut off his supplies for his main army. But the hour of vengeance was ap- proaching, and if anything could hasten Napoleon to make good his threat to extinguish the independence of Venice, it was the brutal butchery of his Lodi and Areola heroes. His victorious legions had heard of the fate of their helpless comrades from the lips of Napoleon ; and when his bugles sounded the return from the Tyrol, they swept down on the Queen of the Adriatic like an Alpine storm. HUMILIATION OF VENICE. 87 XLYIII. After the cowardly massacre of the wounded grenadiers of France, the Doge and his Senate trembled at every ar- rival of news from the North ; bat when they heard of the Treaty of Leoben, they were plunged in despair. They dispatched messengers to meet the Conqueror, but they were sent back with this answer : — " You have perfidiously mur- dered my brave men in their beds. If you held the treasures of Peru in your hands, and could cover your dominions with gold, you could not buy your ransom. The Lion of St. Mark [the arms of Venice] must lick the dust." An English historian has said in speaking of the result : — *' These tidings came like a sentence of death on the devoted Senate. Their deliberations were unceasing ; their schemes innumerable ; their hearts divided and unnerved. Those secret chambers, from which that haughty Oligarchy had for so many ages excluded every eye, and every voice, but their own, were invaded by strange-faced men, who boldly criticised their measures, and heaped new terrors on their heads, by announcing that the mass of the people had ceased to consider the endurance of their sway as synony- mous with the prosperity of Venice. Popular tumults filled the streets and canals ; universal confusion prevailed. The commanders of their troops and fleets received contradictory orders, and the city seemed ready to yield everything with- out striking a blow." XLIX. On the 31st May his soldiers had entered the city, and the Senate sent their unconditional submission. He called for the murderers who had instigated the butchery of his soldiers — they were delivered up. The Senate were deposed, aiid the power given to the people. Napoleon asked, and 88 NAPOLEON BOXAPARTE. Venice gave §600,000 in gold, and tlie same amount in Naval stores ; five ships of war ; twenty works of Art, and five hundred MSS. Napoleon took possession of the city, and the history of the Venitian Republic was ended. A silly attempt was made to corrupt Napoleon by a tender of seven million francs from Yenice — as Austria had offered a vastly larger sum and a Principality. To such proposals,, (and he received them often,) he had but one answer — " If I become rich or great, it must come from France."' Yenice offered Napoleon something meaner than a bribe — the person and papers of Count D'Entraigues, a French agent of the Bourbons. It was thus proved that Pichegru, the French General, who had conquered Holland, had be- trayed the cause of the Republic to the Bourbons ; and this information he sent to the Directory. Pichegru was exiled. Yenice humbled and her heavy tribute paid, Napoleon marched on the ancient and opulent city of Genoa, estab- lished the New Ligurian Republic, and then took, up his quarters in the palace of Montibello in the neigborhood of Milan, whither he had the satisfaction a few days after, of greeting Josephine, whom he passionately loved, and whom he had not seen since his departure from France a year before. L. Napoleon was now in the bloom and splendor of his life ; and although for many subsequent years he seemed to mounfc higher at every step on the road to glory, yet his biogra pher pauses a moment at the Palace of Montibello to con template the young Conqueror of Italy, the Pacificator of Europe— the Creator of Republics — the Founder of Institu- tions — the husband of Josephine. His position was sublime. He had finished the most brilliant campaign recorded in History. He had emancipated the most beautiful land on NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE AT MILAN. 89 tlie cartli, from the despotism of the most loatlisome race of tyrants. He had taught emperors and kings, who liad made war on the French Republic, the great principle of llie right of nations to govern themselves. lie had made despots respect and fear a Republic. He had shaken to its foundations the hoary structure of Feudalism, and opened an age of advancement to mankind. LI. The Palace of Montibello — a venerable and magnificent structure — now presented a beautiful spectacle. In the apartments of Napoleon, in one wing of the classic pile, all was activity — investigation — diplomacy — earnest, intense work — universal progress. No roads had been built in Italy since the Romans — Napoleon projected them through every part of the Peninsula. He conceived a broad road from Paris to Geneva, and from Geneva to Milan, over the Simplon, thus bringing Italy into direct communication with France, and Northern and Western Europe. He projected canals, bridges, harbors, arsenals, hospitals and institutions of learning, art and science. He called around him a uni- versity of scholars, philosophers, artists, engineers and statesmen. His couriers, agents and lieutenants, were flying In every direction to carry his messages and execute his orders. His schemes of progress embraced every field of science and art, and every interest of commerce, agriculture and industry. They, moreover, comprehended the advance- ment of the great mass of the Italians, in intelligence, wealth, political and personal independence. His compre- hension also embraced the policy and fortunes of other nations. To show how profoundly he had contemplated the position and strength of the only foe 4;hat never has yielded to France — England — he thus wrote to the Directory : — 90 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. " From these different points, [the Islands of the Mediter ranean which he proposed to seize,] we can command that Sea, keep an eye on the Ottoman Empire, which is crumbling to pieces, and we can render the supremacy of the ocean almost useless to Great Britain. Let us take possession of Egypt, which lies on the road to India, and there we can found one of the mightiest colonies in the world. It is in Egypt we must make war on England." LII. While these great schemes of science and government, whose execution was to reflect so much lustre on his name^, and change so materially the condition of mankind, were springing into existence in one wing of the majestic pile of Montibello ; the superb salons of the other were flashing with the beauty and wit of the most entrancing women of Italy, from whose magic centre shone the peerless wife of the youthful Conqueror. Learned and gallant men, high- bred and beautiful ladies, artists of fame and poets of genius illuminated her halls, and bent in homage and admiration before that unrivaled woman. Her loveliness of person, and blandness of manner ; her tact for society, and genius for conversation ; her amazing intelligence, and earnestness of sympathy ; and above all, the courtly grace with which she yielded to more than queenly honors, gave to her nightly soirees among the polished Italians, the title of the Court of Montibello, and they eclipsed every court in Europe. Every body who came near Josephine — if it were only to serve her — loved her. Napoleon gave one hour a day to the blandishments of Josephine's drawing-rooms, where he always found her encircled by a waving crowd of wor- shipers. On one occasion, when he had joined that circle without attracting one of the countless eyes fixed on his TREATY OF CAMPO FORMIO. 91 wife, he gayly said, " I only subdue provinces ; Josephine conquers hearts." LIII. The day came for the Treaty with A.ustria, and Napoleon met her four negotiators at the humble village of Campo Formio. They attempted to impose conditions which no one of the Generals he had vanquished would have dreamed of. Napoleon instantly rejected th*em. They endeavored to intimidate him by the threat of an alliance of Russia and the aid of the Cossacks. Napoleon sat silent a moment — then rising, took from the buffet a porcelain vase — " Mes-. sieurs," he said, as he lifted the vase, " the truce is broken ; war is declared. In three months I will dismember your Empire as I now shatter this vase," — and the porcelain flew into a thousand pieces. The enraged General left the room, and dispatched an officer to the Arch-Duke Charles to announce that he should begin his march on Vienna in twenty-four hours. He ordered his carriage, and flew to the head-quarters of the army. But he was soon joined by a messenger from the negotiators acceding to his terms. In a few hours the Treaty of Campo Formio was signed, [3d Oct., 1797]. It extended the borders of France to the Rhine — and recognized the Cisalpine Republic of Lombardy and Piedmont. Napoleon gave up perfidious Venice to Austria, and under her yoke it groans to this hour. LIV. The victories of Napoleon had aff'ected the political for tunes of every State in Europe, and a Congress of the Ger man powers was called at Rastadt, to arrange definitively all the conditions of a general Peace. The Directory could send no one but Napoleon to act as the Ambassador of France, and he was commissioned to proceed to Rastadt. 92 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. His farewell to the army, and the affecting scenes which attended it ; his inspiring and noble councils to the Repub- lic of Lombardy ; the tokens of admiration, gratitude and love, the Italians poured in upon him as he left them ; his journey through Switzerland to Rastadt, which was one con- tinued triumph ; his reception by the representatives of the German States — We must leave all these and a thousand other passages in the life of Napoleon to the History of Modern Europe. LV. But the Conqueror of Italy soon grew tired of the dull de- tails of diplomatic technicalities, and, leaving them to the more patient care of his colleagues, set out in two days for Paris. There were many reasons why he should lose no time in returning to his adopted country. During his absence he had been the salvation of France. He had com- pelled Europe to give up the old principle of intervention, and let France govern herself as she pleased. He had made fifty sovereigns recognize a Republic. And he had done something greater and better than this for the French Na- tion — he had given internal peace and domestic tranquillity to a land torn by faction and deluged by blood. The feeble and corrupt Directory who governed in. Paris would have long before been overthrown, had it not been sustained by his victories. The men who composed it, jealous of Jii:^ rising fame, had interposed every obstacle to his victorioua career in Italy, and would have recalled him from his con quests had they dared to brave the indignation of the peo- ple. But the Directory had sunk into contempt, and Napo- leon knew that France was waiting for his return. When he withdrew from the Congress of Rastadt he laid aside all the insignia of rank and power ; and in the dress HIS RETURN TO PARIS. 93 of a private citizen returned to Paris, where he took up his residence with Josephine in the humble lodgings the}' had occupied before he set out for Italy. He walked the streets and mingled with the people in his citizen's dress, without attracting observation, and had been a day or two in Paris oefore it was generally known that he had returned. LYI. But when it was known that he had returned, the city was filled with enthusiasm, and the curiosity to see Napo- leon was intense. The most distinguished persons in the Capital, went to pay their homage to the man who had achieved so much for his country. But with great modesty, dignity and good sense, he evaded every species of display, and sinking the Conqueror in the Citizen, revealed another attribute of greatness that excited still higher admiration. Another significant fact should be mentioned, since it indi- cates a striking trait in his character. He continued to employ the same tradesmen and artisans, who had worked for him in his poorer and humbler days. Having obtained from a silversmith, just as he was starting for Italy, credit for a dressing-case at a cost of $250 he remained through life the friend of the person who had obliged him, and by his favor, he became one of the most opulent citizens in Paris. But at no period did he ever employ in any ser- vice a man without talent. Every other consideration was made to give way to this. However obscure may have been a man's birth, the ability and disposition to execute any commission in a superior manner, always entitled him to the favor of Napoleon. LYI. This fact is worthy of being mentioned in the history of any great man ; more especially such a maji as Napoleon. 94 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. The anciene iwhlesse had been overthrown ; but Paris could not live vvithout a tribunal of taste and fashion. It had been erected on the fall of Robespierre by the women of beauty and the men of wit of the Republic. It was perhaps more imperious and exacting than that of the Bourbons — far more vulgar, and at least equally heartless and corrupt. Every attempt, however, to inthrall Napoleon by the blandishments of elegant dissipation was unavailing. He would not be shown. His whole history proves that he cared little about the popularity of the hour. He despised the homage of the mob. His mind on this subject, is indi- cated by a reply he once made to a favorite Marshal, when congratulated on a public demonstration by the people — " Bah !" said he, " What is fame ! — A great noise. They would shout just as loud if they saw me going to tlie guillotine." The Directory were by no means anxious to add new splendor to the reputation of a man whose glory had long oppressed them ; but Paris felt that his unparalleled -achieve- ments called for some public signs of the gratitude of the nation, and Napoleon was invited to deliver the Treaty of Campo Formio to the Government, in the presence of the chief personages of the State, and the citizens of Paris. LYII. This imposing ceremony took place In the Court of the Louxembourg, under a canopy of standards and banners captured in the Italian campaign. When the young Con- queror appeared, followed by his band of heroic generals, and the vast assembly caught — many of them for the first time — a sight of the victor, they could scarcely believe their senseK. That slender, boyish form, and that lean, bronze, DELIVERY OF THE TREATY. 95 impassive face, would not have seemed to belong to the Conqueror of Beaulieu, Wurmser, Alvinzi, and the Arch- Duke Charles, had not the invincible soldier bespoke him at every step. The wild cry of the assembly broke forth, and poured down upon his uncovered head like the storm of the battle- field. He bent to it as he bowed to no other storm, and his slight frame trembled to the shock. When he had re- covered his self-possession he said to the Directory : — " To achieve their freedom the French people had to fight allied kings ; and to win a Constitution founded on reason, they had. to combat the prejudices of eighteen Centuries. Superstition, the Feudal system, and Despotism have succes- sively governed Europe for twenty ages ; but the era of representative governments may be dated from the Peace you have concluded. You have accomplished the organiza- tion of the Great Nation, whose vast territories are bounded only by the limits nature herself has interposed. I present you the Treaty of Campo Formio, ratified by the Emperor, This peace secures the liberty, prosperity and glory of the Republic. When the happiness of the French People shall be established upon the best founded laws, all Europe Avill be free." Such a scene as this must, in any nation or in any as- sembly, have wrought up the feelings of the spectators to the intensest enthusiasm, but among so mercurial a people as the Parisians, the language which we employ in describing the emotions of other men fails in graphicness and power. Barras, the presiding director, said, in reply to Napoleon s terse and patriotic words — " Nature has exhausted all her powers in the creation of Bonaparte." 96 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. LVIIT. Tlio honors of the Frencli Institute have never been cheapened by bestowment upon men who were the favorites only of rank or fortune. There are but so many places to be filled, and when the exile and the supposed death of Carnot had made an opening, Napoleon was unanimously elected to fill the place. His reception by the Institute was the highest tribute ever paid to his genius. Seldom have the honors of that great Institution been conferred upon a man so young, and never where they were received with greater modesty, or had been more nobly won. From, this time he devoted all his leisure to the profoundest studies, and intimate intercourse with the illustrious savans of Paris. Those who were most intimate with him were most surprised at the extent of his knowledge, and the intensity of his philosophical investigations. Assuming no importance as a military chieftain, and throwing aside altogether the trap- pings and livery of war, he appeared only in the simple dress of the members of the Institute ; thus displaying what he at all times felt, how much worthier science and learning are of the homage of men than mere military glory. Thus passed a few months of repose from the fatigues of his campaigns. He allowed the feeble and incompetent Directory to take its downward course, knowing that the time was not far distant when he would be called by the unanimous voice of the French people to preside over tho nation. To those who may think that we are disposed to exaggerate the political foresight of Napoleon, we wil merely refer to his letters and conversations at this period, which will show that he not only felt the clearest presenti- ment of his future elevation, but that his subsequent course was decided more eminently than that of almost any other THE EXPEDITION TO EGYPT. 07 illustrious man, by the settled purposes of his own indomita- ble will. LIX. Immediately after the termination of Napoleon's cam- paign in Italy, when couriers were no longer flying daily over the great roads to Paris with the bulletins of fresh victories, the Directory hit upon a new scheme of conquest — the invasion of England. Such was the military fame of !N"apoleon they could not have intrusted the conduct of this enterprise to any other man, and he had now for several months been indicated by the Directory as the leader of this undertaking.. When the preliminary preparations had all been made, Napoleon left for the seaboard, to consummate the undertaking, ife carefully inspected the fortifications and naval resources along the French coasts, from the British (channel around to Bordeaux ; he became as thoroughly ac- quainted with the naval resources of Great Britain as any Englishman in her service ; he conceived many important improvements which from that time began to be carried out, and some of which have been only recently perfected under the government of his nephew ; he calmly contemplated the plan conceived by the Directory ; he weighed in the balances of an enlightened judgment the results that would probably attend the undertaking, and he at last came to the conclu sion that the whole plan of the Directory of an invasion of Ens^land was a wild chimera, and he resolved to defeat it. He returned to Paris and made his views known to the Directory, who offered no effectual resistance to his de- cisions. He, moreover, recalled a suggestion he had made to them from Italy, which had doubtless almost entirely escaped their observation, of making Egypt the theatre of a decisive conflict with England. He at once proposed the Expedition to Egypt, and it was decided on without delay 98 KAPOLEOIT BON-APAETE. by the Directory. The necessity of secrecy was so great, every man connected with the execution of the scheme ^cted with the greatest discretion. Everywhere throughout ^France the military and naval preparations were increased, nevv* men were levied for the campaign, new vessels were launched at the ports and arsenals ; and the cities and vil- lages of France everywhere resounded with the clangor of preparation. The intensest excitement pervaded France. Europe itself was occupied only Avith the idea of the inva- sion of England by the Conqueror of Italy, and the southern coast of that sea-girt Island was blackened with men who rushed tumultuously to make a bulwark against a foreign invasion. LX. In the meantime Napoleon had completed his scheme f«)r the Expedition to Egypt. He had organized the most c-fScient scientific corps that had ever been seen. There was uot a book, nor an instrument of science, or investigation — there was not an agency for the advancement of mankind in knowledge, that he had not already brought under his control. One or two of the guiding spirits of the French Institute were in his confidence, and all that Institution could furnish was placed at his disposal. The ultimate^ suc- cess of the Expedition to Egypt may be attributed, in some /icgree at least, to the fact that England had been concen- trating her maratime resources on her owm coast to repel the invasion. This is precisely what Napoleon intended, for while England was profoundly ignorant of the point wher Napoleon intended to strike, he was himself consummatini Ills plan. At last, when his preparations were complete, and he had concentrated all the forces he wished on the southern coast of France, he started for Toulon. A few hours afterward EMBARKATION FOR EGYPT. 99 he reviewed liis exulting soldiers, and said — " Rome fonglit Carthage on the sea as well as on the land. England is the Carthage of France. I have come to lead you in the name of the Divinity of Liberty across mighty seas, and into dis- tant regions, where your valor may achieve such life and glory as will never await you beneath the cold skies of the west. Prepare yourselves, soldiers, to embark under the tri-color, for achievements far more glorious than you have won for your country on the blushing plains of Italy." LXI. It was known that Nelson, the Neptune of the seas, was in the Mediterranean with a powerful fleet, which had been seen hanging off Toulon for many days ; but a wild tempest from the Alps had swept down and driven his vessels far out to sea. It had scarcely passed, before Napoleon gave tlie order for the embarkation of all his troops, and the pre- paration for the voyage. Many a great enterprise has been conceived and carried out on the Mediterranean. Its waters have been plowed by the triumphant keels of many a conqueror, but history gives no traces of such an expedition as this. The embarkation had been conducted with the rapidity which characterized all the military movements of Napoleon, and it was con- summated at day-break the first fair day after the storm. The signal was given by the orders of Napoleon from the AdmiraPs vessel, and immediately the whole fleet weighed anchor, and put out into the open sea. Thirteen immense line-of-battle ships, fourteen frigates, and four hundred transports carrying forty thousand picked soldiers, generaled by officers whose names had already become immortal on the scrolls of chivalry, unfolded as they rode out to sea, and when the sun came up over the Mediterranean it shone upon 100 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. the vast armament extending twenty miles. On the passage. Napoleon was reinforced by the division of the French army in Italy, under the command of General Dessaix. Tlie Heavens themselves seemed to smile upon the expedition, and on the 10th of June it appeared before Malta. That impregnable rock which had for ages been held by the renowned Knights of St. John, scarcely attempted to resist the progress of Napoleon, and from the battlements of their fortifications he saw the flag of welcome streaming. He halted at Malta long enough only to raise the French flag, and leave a garrison of soldiers, and the fleet was again signaled towards the East. LXIl. Nelson, who had heard of the embarkation of the arma- ment from Toulon, had now been several days scouring the Mediterranean in search of his foe ; but he was foiled by the genius of Napoleon, and the fortune which presided over his destiny. In the midst of a violent gale, the expedition landed at the mouth of the Nile, and in a few hoursliis army was within the walls of the city that had been founded by Alexander. The following Greneral Order had been pub- lished to the army before debarkation : — " The people we are now to associate with are Mohamedans ; the first article of their faith is ' there is but one God, and Mohammed is his Prophet.' Do not contradict them : treat them as you have the Jews and the Italians : respect their muftis and imans. The Roman Legions protected all religions. This people treat their women differently from us ; but in all countries the violator is a monster : pillage enriches only a few. It dishonors us, destroys our resources, and makes those ene- jiies whom we ought to gain as friends." The following was published to the people of Egypt :— MARCH TO THE PYRAMIDS. lOt " You will be told that I come to make war on jour religion ; but believe it not. Say that I am come to restore your rights ; to punish the usurpers ; and that I respect God, his Prophet, and the Koran, more than they were ever respected by the Mamelukes. * * * * Woe to them that take uj) arms for the Mamelukes ; — they shall perish." LXIII. Egypt was then a province of the Ottoman Empire, and Turkey was at peace with France ; but Egypt was groaning under the despotism of the Mamelukes. This body of men which was -recruited entirely from boys taken captive in Europe, had acquired the control of Egypt, and they obeyed none but their own twenty-four chiefs, each of whom ruled over his own separate district. Napoleon considered them the finest cavalry in the world. Armed with the best in- struments of warfare that could be manufactured, and mounted upon the fleetest and noblest Arabian horses, their charge had till that time been irresistible. He remained but a short time in Alexandria, and [July 7th, 1798,] passed out from the gates of that city, resolved to bring the Mamelukes to an engagement. His march over the desert towards the pyramids, exhausted the vigor of his army, and his Lodi heroes melted under the burning African sun. The array was filled with murmuring and was on the verge of mutiny. But, says an English writer, " Napoleon altered nothing ; wore his uniform buttoned up as at Paris; never showed one bead of sweat on his brow ; nor thought of repose except to lie down in his cloak, the last at night, and start up the first in the morning. It required, however, all tliat this example of endurance and the influence of character could do, to prevent the army from breaking into .*.peu mutiny.'' 102 ITAPOLEON BONAPARTE For fourteen days, this vast army rnarcLed over the burning sands of the desert, till the 21st of July, AA^hen their eyes were gladdened by a sight of the pyramids. As they rose on a gentle eminence, and gained a fall view of the^(» hoary structures of antiquity, rising in solemn majesty over eternal desolations, they saw the camp of the army of the Mamelukes. As he had treated the Marshals of Austria, so did Napoleon deal with the Mamelukes of the Nile. With a small staff he rode towards the camp of the enemy lo reconnoitre for himself. With his glass he saw the bat- teries of the Beys, and by a closer inspection perceived that their guns were without carriages, and consequently could be leveled only in one direction. He rode back to the army, resolved to bring on the battle at once. LXIV. Monrad Bey, the gallant commander of the Mameluke ho^'t, v/ho had for some days been impatiently awaiting a sight of the dreaded Commander of Europe, drew up his army for battle, and shoAved himself quite as ready as his antagonist for the encounter. Riding by his battalions, AA^hich had been formed into separate compact squares, Napoleon said — *' Soldiers, from the summits of yonder pyramids forty centuries are looking on you.'' The infantry of Mourad Bey was noAV marching rapidly doAvn upon the French, and tlieir cavalry was SAveeping round them on.both Avings like the simoom of the desert. They brought AA^th them to the charge clouds of dust, and made the desert rinf^ with their terrific Avar-cries as they bore doAvn on their foes. Tlieir charge had been irresistible AA^ierever ihcy had oi)- countered human power ; but Avhen they met the French columns they dashed against a solid battlement of £lccl, The French squares received them upon a gleaming from of THE BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. 103 bayonets. Their wounded horses reared and turned back- ward. A Year 2, Conciergerie (24-25th July, ]794.) > " Yet some moments to tenderness, to tears, and to re- gret — then wholly to the glory of :my fate, to the grand thoughts of immortality. When you receive this letter, my Josephine, your husband will have long ceased to live here, but, in the bosom of his God, he will have begun to enjoy a real existence. Thou seest, then, that there is indeed no cause for mourning on his account : it is over the wicked, the insensate men who survive him, that tears are to be shed ; for they inflict, and are incapable of repairing the evil. But let us not sully with their guilty image these last moments. I would, on the contrary, adorn them by the thought, that, having been united to a charming woman, I might have beheld the years passed with her glide away without the slightest cloud, had not wrongs, of which I be- came sensible only when too late, troubled our union. This reflection wrings tears from me. Thy generous soul par- £40 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. doned tlie moment that suffering overtook me ; and I ought to recompense thee for such kindness, by enjoying, without recalling it to thy remembrance, since I must thus bring back the recollection of my errors and thy sorrows. What thanks do I owe to Providence, who will bless thee ! " Now Heaven disposes of me before my time ; and even this is one of its mercies. Can the good man live without grief when he sees the world a prey to the wicked ? I should think myself happy, therefore, in being removed from their power, did I not feel that I abandon to them beings so valued and beloved. If, however, the thoughts of the dying be presentiments, I experience one in the recesses of my heart which assures me that these horrible butcheries are soon to be suspended — that to the victims are to succeed their executioners — that the arts and sciences, the true prosperity of states, shall flourish again in France — that wise and equitable laws will reign after these cruel sacri- fices — and that you will obtain that happiness of which you were always worthy, and which to the present time has fled from you. Our children will contribute to your felicity — they will discharge their father's debt. " I resume these incoherent and almost illegible lines, which my jailers had interrupted. " I have just undergone a cruel formality, which, under any other circumstances, they should have forced me to endure only by depriving me of life. But^why strive agai^ist necessity ? Reason requires that we do all for the best. My hair has been cut off. I have contrived to purchase back a portion of it, in order to bequeath to my wife, and to my children, undeniable evidence, pledges of my last recol- lections. I feel that at this thought my heart is breaking, and tears bedew the paper. Farewell, all that I love ! Love ^,ach other ; speak of me ; and never forget that the glory JOSEPHINE S IMPRISONMENT. 241 of dying the victim of tyrants, the martyr of freedom, enno- bles a scaffold." XX. A single word on tl'e immediate cause of the downfall of Kobespierre : — M. Tallien, subsequently one of the Directory of France, who cherished a devoted passion for Madame de Fontenoy, had held many interviews with this accomplished and graceful woman, through the guarded casements of her Carmelite prison, and seventy of her fellow-inmates had on the day after the death of Beauharnais, been informed that, on the next morning, they would be borne to the place of execution. She and Josephine had but one hope of escape, which was to warn M. Tallien during his evening visit by some sign, that would not be observed by others, of their terrible position ; and they went to the casement carelessly and sadly, as if to gaze in peace for the last time, on the pure heaven, and breathe its fresh air. At last M. Tallien appeared under the walls, and Madame de Fontenoy threw from the prison-bars a cabbage-stalk, in which was concealed a piece of paper containing these words : — " My trial is de- cided — the result is certain. If you love me, as you say, urge every means to save France and me." XXI. Tallien snatched the scrap, read it with agitation, and instantly joined some of his friends, when he pledged himself to go to the Convention, and publicly accuse the tyrant Robespierre. This detestable villain had not a friend in all France ; and standing as he did upon the verge of ruin, \t required but a single resolute man to brave him face to face in the Convention, and he would be hurled to the abyss. As soon as the session opened, St. Just, who foresaw the down- fall of his master, took the Tribune to save him. While :242 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. Taliien was dragging him from the place, he screamed — " I lift the veil !" " And I," said Taliien, with a shout of despe- ration, " rend it asunder." The announcement fell upon the excited Assembly like a peal of thunder : and in one of those wild appeals which that Convention so often wit- nessed, burning with the intensest satire, and charged with electric eloquence, he heaped upon the head of the trembling Robespierre, the whole catalogue of his crimes. Our readers are all familiar with the result. Robespierre was himself the final victim of his own Eeign of Terror. XXII. Josephine has herself given in the simplest language, a most interesting account of the manner in which the down- fall of the tyrant was communicated to that group of seventy women, who were waiting their execution on the following day. She says — " Madame d'Arguillon, prostrated with the thought of approaching death, so abruptly communicated, I drew towards the window, which I opened to admit the fresh air. I saw a woman of the lower class make signs to us from below, which we could not understand. * * Her joy was extreme when she saw that we at length perfectly un- derstood her. With great eagerness, she made the sign of cutting the throat, and began dancing and shouting. This strange pantomime stirred in our hearts a feeling that can- not De described, since we did not dare to hope that by these gestures she was intimating the death of Robespierre. At tins very moment, while we were trembling between hope and despair, a loud noise was heard in the corridor, and the tern Die voice of the turn-key, who, in kicking his dog, cried, * Out with you, brute of a Robespierre !' This coarse but glorious language echoed the emancipation of Fi-ance, and a few minutes after, our companions in misfortune burst into CONSEQUENCES OF ROBESriEKRE's DEATH. ?43 the apartment, to give us the details of tliat grand event. It was the ninth Thermidor — The anniversary of the pronhecy which had foretold my elevation. My flock-bed was restored to me, and on this couch I passed the most delightful nignt of my life. I fell asleep, after saying to my companions, You see I am not guillotined yet, and I shall live to become Queen of France.^ " XXIII. In our sketch of Napoleon we have already traced tne progress of events, by which, through the favor of Barras, the aspiring officer who had conducted himself so well at Toulon, was charged with the important commission of com- manding the troops at the time of the rising of the Sections against the authority of the Convention. A fortunate com- bination of circumstances for which Napoleon was indebted, partly to his gallantry and skill at Toulon, which gained for him the respect and confidence of Barras ; and partly to tne interest M. Tallien felt for him after his marriage witii Madame Fontenoy, the intimate friend of Josephine and her companion in the prison of the Carmelites — gave him the brilliant opportunity, which he so readily embraced, of as- serting the supremacy of law and order in Paris, on the 13th Yendemaire. The Ciuelling of the Sections was followed by the restoration of complete tranquillity, and the establish- ment of a new Constitution, the execution of the laws being confided to a Directory of five persons, of whom Barras was the chief. The demand which young Eugene had made on 'General Bonaparte, for the sword of his father, resulted in an intimacy between him and Josephine, which soon ended in marriage, and under circumstances which Josephine has herself related, in the following letter to a friend — 244 EMPRESS JOSErHINE. XXIY. '' My Dear Friend, — I am urged to marry again : my friends counsel the measure ; my aunt almost lays her injunc- tions upon me to the same effect, and my children entreafc my compliance. Why are you not here to give me your ad- vice in this important conjuncture ? — to persuade me that I ought to consent to a union which must put an end to the irksomeness of my present position ? Yaur friendship, in which I have already experienced so much to praise, would render you clear-sighted for my interests ; and I should de- cide without hesitation as soon as you had spoken. You have met General Bonaparte in my house. Well !— he it is who would supply a father's place to the orphans of Alexan- der de Beauharnais, and a husband's to his widow. "'Do you love him?' you will ask. Not exactly. 'You then dislike him?' Not quite so bad ; but I find myself in that state of indifference which is anything but agreeable, and which to devotees in religion gives more trouble than all their peccadilloes. Love, being a species of w^orship, also requires that one feel very differently from all this ; and hence the need I have of your advice, which might fix tlie perpetual irresolution of my feeble character. To as- sume a determination has ever appeared fatiguing to my Creole supineness, which finds it infinitely more convenient to follow the will of others. " I admire the General's courage— the- extent of his ih- formation, for on all subjects he talks equally well — and the quickness of his judgment, which enables him to seize the thoughts of others almost before they are expressed : but i confess it, I shrink from the despotism he seems desirous of exei'cising over all who approach him. His searching glance has something singular and inexplicable, which imposes even on our Directors : judge if it may not 245 intimidate a woman ! Even — what ought to please me — the force of a passion, described with an energy that leaves not a doubt of his sincerity, is precisely the cause which arrests the consent I am often on the point of pronouncing. " Being now past the heyday of youth, can I hope long to preserve that ardor of attachment which, in the General, resembles a fit of delirium ? If, after our union, he should cease to love me, will he not reproach me with what he will have sacrificed for my sake ? — will he not regret a more brilliant marriage which he might have contracted ? What shall I then reply ? — what shall I do ? I shall weep. ' Ex- cellent resource !' you will say. Good heavens ! I know that all this can serve no end ; but it has ever been thus ; tears are the only resource left me when this poor heart, so easily chilled, has suffered. Write quickly, and do not fear to scold me, should you judge that I am wrong. You know that whatever comes from your pen will be taken in good part. " Barras gives assurance, that if "I marry the General, he will so contrive as to have him appointed to the command of the army of Italy. Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of this favor, which already excites murmuring among his fel- low-soldiers, though it be as yet only a promise, said to me, ' Think they then I have need of their protection to arrive at power ? Egregious mistake ! They will all be but too happy- one day should I condescend to grant them mine. My sword is by my side, and with it I will go far.' " What say you to this security of success ? — is it not a proof of confidence, springing from an excess of vanity ? A. General of brigade protect the heads of government ! — that, truly, is an event highly probable ! I know not how it is, but sometimes tliis waywardness gains upon me to such a degree, that almost I bcUeve possible whatever this singular 246 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. man may take it in his head to attempt ; and with his imagi« nation, who can calculate what he will not undertake ? '' Here we all regret you, and console ourselves for your prolonged absence, only by thinking of you every minute, and by endeavoring to follow you step by step through the beautiful country you are now traversing. Were I sure of meeting you in Italy, I would get married to-morrow, upon condition of following the General ; but w€ might, perhaps, cross each other on the route : thus I deem it more prudent to wait for your reply before taking my determination. Speed, then, your answer — and your return still more. " Madame Tallien gives me in commission to tell you, that she loves you tenderly. She is always beautiful and good j employing her immense influence only to obtain pardon for the unfortunate who address themselves to her ; and adding to her acquiescence an air of satisfaction, which gives her the appearance of being the person obliged. Her friend ship for me is ingenuous and affectionate. I assure you, that the love I bear towards her resembles my affection for you. This will give you an idea of the attachment I fee. for her. Hortense becomes more and more amiable ; her charming figure developes itself ; and I should have fitting occasion, if so inclined, to make troublesome reflections upon villainous Time, which merely adorns one at the expense of another ! Happily, I have got quite a difierent crotchet in my head at present, and skip all dismals, in order to occupy my thoughts solely with a future which promises to be happy since we shall soon be re-united, never again to be separated Were it not for this marriage, which puts me out, I should, despite of all, be quite gay ; but while it remains to be dis- posed of, I shall torment myself ; once concluded, come what may, I shall be resigned. I am habituated to suffering ; and if destined to fresh sorrows, I think I could endure them, pro- NAPOLEON'S LETTER TO JOSEPHmE. 217 Tided my children, my aunt, and you were spared me. We have agreed to cut short the conclusions of our letters — fo adieu, my friend." XXY From this truthful and interesting account it will be per- ceived, that Josephine brought to her husband as a dower *• the magnificent gem," as Napoleon afterwards called it, of die command of the army of Italy. Although almost every life that has been written either of Josephine or Napoleon, has been crowded with the correspondence purporting to have passed between them, yet thorough scrutiny has de- monstrated most of these letters as they have been publicly printed, to be entitled to but feeble claims to authenticity. The following, however, is an exact transcript of a letter written by Napoleon to Josephine, and copied for a friend by her own hand : — "My Beloved Feiexd, — My first laurel is due to my country ; my second shall be yours. While pressing Al- vinzi, I thought of France ; when he was beaten, I thought of you. Your son will send you a scarf surrendered to him by Colonel Morback, whom he took prisoner with his own hand. You see, madam, that our Eugene is worthy of his father. Do not deem me altogether undeserving of having succeeded to that brave and unfortunate general, under whom I should have felt honored to have learned to conquer I embrace you. Napoleon." XXYI. When the victories of Napoleon's first campaign had been consummated by the conquest of the Capital of Lombardy, .^Dsephine joined her husband, and now constituted the 248 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. centre of attraction in the brilliant circles that thronged the magnificent halls of the Palace of Montibello. Napo- leon had left Paris so soon after his marriage, that scarcely a day had been devoted at that joyous period to the festivi- ties which ought to crown so happy an occasion ; but their honeymoon was to be passed in the most beautiful part of the world — in the most charming and elegant of all the Capitals of Italy, and on the waters and along the shores of Lake Como and Lake Maggiore. These classic scenes have been embellished by the genius of ages. Como, par- ticularly, had so completely won the affections of Pliny that he built a beautiful villa on its eastern side, for his summer- house. These lakes were visited by Cicero, and consecrated by the muse of Yirgil ; and from that period, Avhatever there is that is grand and beautiful in the castellated architecture of the middle ages, or the historic associations of heroic and stirring scenes, has all been lavished to make it the gem of the garden of the world. From the bosom of Lake Maggiore rises the magic little island called Isola Bella. One of the ancient and most opulent of the Lombard families, had several centuries ago chosen this spot for their summer retreat, and vast treasures had been lavished in the adorn- ment of this island with hanging gardens and beautiful terraces, with every tree and shrub and flower that could be gathered from all quarters of the earth ; and slowly from year to year had risen a lofty and magnificent pile, embel lished and enriched with countless works of art and taste until Isola Bella has become the impersonation throughout Europe of splendor and beauty. It was under these blue and far-off skies, and on the bosom of these crystal waters, surrounded by the wildest Alpine scenery, all bathed in the genial and everlasting sunshine of the Italian clime, that Josephine with her brilliant train of friends, ladies, cour- EUGEXE IN THE ARMY OF ITALY. 249 tiers, scholars and men of fame, at last found a few weeks of repose, enlivened by everything in the form of luxury and splendor, which wealth could purchase or fancy invent. XXVII. There was nothing at this period of Josephine's life want- lag to complete her happiness, unless indeed it may have been the apprehension she sometimes expressed of the insecurity which must attend so sudden and brilliant an elevation, and in that period when so many terrific convulsions had been witnessed, and when nothing was so dear to the heart as repose, it is not strange that Josephine was awed by the meteor flight of the young Conqueror of Italy into the very empyrean of fame. Her son Eugene, although but seventeen years old, had rode by the side of Napoleon as one of his aids through the heat of his battles, breathing the air of victory. Inheriting, too, as he did, the souvenirs of the brilliant achievements of his father, and with the very Hannibal of war as his model on the field, Josephine herself says, that she even trembled when Eugene came from the reviews of the serried battalions of the army of Italy, into her presence. He came like the young god of war, all pal- pitating from the battle-field. And yet it would be hard to believe that so fond a mother as Josephine, one whose happi- ness was so entirely dependent upon the blandishments of Eocial life, and scenes of domestic affection, should not have ooked with some complacency upon the beautiful form and radiant face of the future Yiceroy of Italy, as this young Achilles came in from the " War of the Greeks." XXVIII. Many of the books which preserve records of these times, and their principal actors, depict in the liveliest manner the 250 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE brilliant scenes tliat were witnessed in the drawing-rooms^ in the corteges, the fetes and festivities, which celebrated the triumphs of Napoleon and greeted the arrival of Jo- sephine in Italy. But none of the accounts we have read do any justice to the enthusiasm with which we have often heard these same scenes described by many persons still living, who participated in them. Society in Italy has for ages been graced by every refinement and the cultivation of elegant manners ; pure taste and intellectual conversation has been studied and cultivated as one of the beautiful arts — worthy of the attention and even the ambition of the noblest, the most powerful and the most gifted of men. In the school of Italian manners, as in their capitals of art during its most florid period, the simplicity and the beauty of nature were considered the highest of ideal standards. Hence the enthusiastic admiration with which Josephine was regarded by the polished Italians. The refined grace of her manners, the touching simplicity of her conversation and address, the affability and grace of every wor.d and movement, and that superb repose which can come only from unconscious movement, or be reached at last as a triumph of art, made her the model of courtly elegance and palatial refinement. In Italy perhaps, still more strikingly was the significance of Napoleon's remark illustrated when he said, that he was more indebted to the beauty, the grace, the influence, the virtues and the good sense of Josephine for his own elevation to power and success in life, than to any other human being. XXIX. Although on his return from Italy, every brain seemed to have grown giddy with Napoleon's conquests, he himself acted as though nothing had happened. He again took up ACCGIIFASIES XAPOLEON TO TOULON. 251 his unostentatious abode in the small house in the Rue Ghautereine. It was indeed already distinguished ; for, before his arrival, the government had, in compliment to him, named the street where he had lived before he left, Rue le la Yittoire. But that humble dwelling was now fre- quented by the most brilliant society of Paris, and Josephine lluminated it by her ineffable charms. But the mission of Josephine was not only to embellish the career of her lius- band — she put forth a high and powerful agency in disarm- ing foes, and winning friends for the new dynasty. XXX. When Napoleon left Paris for the expedition to Egypt, Josephine accompanied him to the sea-shore, and remained at Toulon until he sailed. It was her earnest desire to accompany him on the voyage ; and when he expostulated with her on the dangers that would attend this expedition in a distant, barbarous and strange country, she seemed to have acquired so romantic a confidence in the invincibility of his arms, and the glory of his future destiny, that she was almost deaf to the voice of reason. Her husband at last persuaded her not to encounter the fatigues and perils of the expedition, and she yielded to his persuasions only on condition that she might be allowed to join him in Egypt after she had received news of his successful landing. When the vast armament had got under way, and was whitening the ocean for many miles with its spotless sails, she watched its progress from the balcony of a palace which overlooked the sea, and kept her eye steadily fixed on the towering cloud of canvas that rose over the dark hull of the Orient which bore her husband and her son, until the fading speck had grown dim through her tears, and sank in the bosom of *he ocean. With a feeling of solitude more lonely than she 252 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. ever suffered in the days of her obscurity, Josephine left the sea-side to visit the mineral waters of Plombieres, where her physicians trusted that she might recover completely the vital vigor of her youth, now somewhat impaired by the cares, excitements and fatigues of her situation. As she was sitting one morning at work with her needle, in thi new retreat, conversing with several ladies who accompa nied her, one of them who had gone to the balcony, called them all to look at a very beautiful lap-dog that was passing below. They all rushed together with the joyousness of youthful hilarity ; the balcony gave way, and they were all precipitated below. Josephine was severely hurt — she suf- fered a fracture of the thigh-bone from which she did not recover for several months. XXXI. Hortense, who had now reached her fifteenth year, had been some time a pupil at the celebrated school of Madame Campan. On her return to Plombieres, Josephine sent for her daughter to enliven her solitude, and devoted herself more earnestly than ever to her education. She remained there until her mother, who through the aid of Barras, had recovered a portion of her husband's property, when she de- termined on purchasing a small estate near Paris, where she could live in elegance and comparative seclusiou, and prose- cute with new diligence the education of her daughter. I'u •the meantime Napoleon had [July 27, 1798,] written froir Cairo, intrusting to his brother Joseph a commission t( purchase a country-house near the Capital, but the letter fell into the hands of the English cruisers, and its contents were made known only through the public journals. Josephine, however, carried out her plan, and purchased the Villa Mal- jiaison — a portion of the national domains — for which she PURCHASE OF MALMATSON. 253 paid with her own money 160,000 francs. She immediately began to adorn her new home as far as her means would allow, with every comfort and elegance. On Napoleon's return, he made it his own favorite retreat ; and from that hour the most lavish embellishments, statues, and relics of ancient, and gems of modern art, from every part of the world, were clustered at Malmaison. The grounds were, extended ; and in a few years it became the most elegant and sumptuous country villa in all Europe. This place which ever after continued to be Josephine's home until her death, has mingled in the associations of the Consulate and the Empire of her husband, with the darkest and the bright- est days of her life, and is never mentioned without recall- ing a thousand tender recollections. The destruction of the French fleet at Aboukir seemed to detract little from the glory of the Egyptian expedition, and the rising fame of Bonaparte clustered around Josephine, every person of con- sequence and every aspiring man in the Republic. XXXII. The following description of Malmaison is given by the Duchess D'Abrantes : — " As Malmaison is now like a lady stripped of all her or- naments, and even of her vestments, I shall endeavor to recall her to the memory of those who, like me, were of her acquaintance while she was still herself. " The park was enchanting, notwithstanding its close proximity to the barren mountain on the left. The river though running far below, imparted strength and luxuri- ance to its vegetation ; and nothing could be greener, more fresh, or umbrageous, than the field from which it was sepa- rated only by a ha-ha, and that part of the park itself which is bounded by the road. The extent of the park did not ex- 254 EMPRESS JOSEPHTXE. ceed a hundred acres ; and Bonaparte, on liis return from Egypt, endeavored to persuade Mademoiselle Julien, a ricli old maid of tlie village of Ruelle, as an act of good neigh- horliood, to sell him, at her own price, an adjoining garden or small park, by which addition Malmaison would have been placed on so respectable a footing, that he need no longer have blushed to compare it with the magnificent es- tate of his brother Joseph. The First Consul had a small private garden, separated only by a bridge from his private cabinet. It was here that he took the air, when labor ren- dered moderate exercise necessary to him ; for at that time, and for two years succeeding, he allowed himself no repose but what nature imperatively required. The bridge was covered in and arranged like a little tent ; here his table was carried, and he would employ himself with state papers, saying, that he felt his ideas become more elevated and ex- pansive in the air, than when seated beside a stove and shut out from communication with the sky. " Yet he could not endure the smallest degree of cold ; had fires lighted in July, and wondered that others did not sutfer like himself, from the first breath of a north wind. "Our life at Malmaison, at the time of my marriage, re- sembled that usually led when much company is assembled together at a chateau in the country. Our apartments con- sisted of a chamber, a boudoir, and a room for the chamber- maid, all very simply furnished. That- occupied by Ma demoiselle Hortense differed from the others only by a fold ing-door ; and this apartment was not assigned her till after her marriage. All opened on a long and very narrow paved corridor, looking to the court. " We chose our own hour of rising ; and till breakfast pur time was at our own disposal. At eleven, the ladies all met for breakfast, in a small low saloon of the right wing, oper. DESCRTPTIO^- OF MALMAISON. 255 ing to the court ; but, as in Paris, gentlemen were never ad- mitted to the party, unless, occasionally, Joseph, Louis, or one of the family. Breakfast was followed by conversation, or the reading of the journals ; and some one always ar- rived from Paris to have a7i audience ; for already Madame Bonaparte gave audiences, contrary to the express orders of the First Consul ; and patronized petitions, though his anger at her interference had already caused her abundance of tears ; but when a beautiful pearl necklace or bracelet of rubies was offered, through the hands of Bourrienne, or of any other friend, the elegance of a present so wholly uncon- nected with the matters in hand, suppressed all curious speculations into the nature of the mine which produced it. " The First Consul was never visible till dinner-time. At five or six in the morning he descended to his cabinet, and was there occupied with Bourrienne, or with the ministers, generals, and counselors of state, till the dinner -hour of six, when the party was generally joined by some invited guests. All the suite of the First Consul were at this time enlarging his household by marriage." XXXIII. Malmaison was at this time really the Court of France, and it is delightful to see how beneficent was the influence Josephine now put forth upon the destinies of her country, and in relieving those who had suffered in the storms of the revolution, or whose fortunes had been laid waste by the in- justice and cruelty of the Reign of Terror. The ascendency of Josephine in the society of Paris, and the important po- litical position she was taking, with the influence she Avas known to sway over the mind of her husband, aroused the envy of nearly all his female relatives, and a malignant scheme of mischief was invented, which was intended to 256 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. estrange Napoleon's heart from Ms wife, and bring about a divorce between them. Letters were written to the Con- queror in Egypt, to consummate the plan, but for a consid- erable time they had no influence over his mind. An Italian commentator on Shakspeare, however, well says, that " No man is great enough not to be an Othello, if he has an lago at his elbow." By every arrival from France, Napoleon re- ceived new confirmations of the scandalous reports that were being spread in regard to the conduct of Josephine, till at last his great mind embraced the delusion, and in the lieat of jealousy he wrote some of the bitterest and most cruel letters that were ever sent to a confiding and virtuous wife. She could not herself divine the cause of this strange infatuation of her husband ; for, during the first months after his arrival in Egypt, his correspondence had breathed more the romance of a lover than the style of a husband. Reso- lute and brave in the consciousness of her own innocence, she repelled these attacks upon her honor, in a series of let- ters, which, if we could find place for them, would-be re- garded as models of their kind, showing how deep the poisoned arrow of slander can pierce the bosom of innocence. XXXIV. In one, she says — " Can it be possible ? Is the letter I have just received indeed yours ? I can hardly believe it, lying as it does open before me, by the &ide of those which had preceded it, and to which your love imparted so ineffa- ble a charm. My eyes cannot doubt, however, that these pages which rend my heart, are too surely yours. But my soul refuses to admit that your heart ever dictated these lines, which to the transport of again hearing from you have oppressed me with the mortal grief I feel, in reading your displeasure, which afflicts me the more, because the doing of LETTER TO HER HUSBAND. 257 it must have caused yourself so much pain. I am utterly ignorant what I have done to create an enemy so resolute to destroy my repose by ruining your peace. " When I first knew you, still buried in the sorrow that had overwhelmed me, I did not believe I could ever again feel a sentiment approaching to love. The scenes of blood I had witnessed, and whose victim I had been, pursued me everywhere. Little did I imagine, I could for an instant fix your choice. Like all the world, I admired your genius and talents : more infallibly than all others did I foresee your approaching glory : but I was unmoved — I loved you only for the services you had rendered my country. You should have left me to cherish this admiration, without seeking to render it a passion, by resorting to those means which you, above all men, possess, if so soon after uniting your destiny to mine, you regret the happiness you alone taught me to enjoy. " Can you believe it is possible for me ever to forget your care or your love — to be indifferent about one who sweetens life by all that is transporting in passion? — That I can ever efface from my memory your kindness to Hortense — your example and your counsel to Eugene ? Oh, my friend ! why not, instead of lending your ear to imposters, rather reduce them to silence by the recital of your benefits to a woman whose character has never incurred the stain of ingratitude ? They know that I loved you first because I was a mother. Since then, admired as you have become throughout Europe, 1 have but felt the deeper adoration for the husband who made me his choice, when I was so poor and unhappy. Every step you take only gives new splendor to the name I bear, and is this the moment they have seized to persuade you that I love you no longer ? " To console me as far as she can, Hortense employs all 258 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. her little arts, to conceal all fears on your account and her brother's, and to dissipate that sadness — to you so dubious — T^hich never leaves me. By the charm of her conversation, she contrives to call up a smile, and then, in her joy she ex- claims, ' Dear Mamma, they shall not know that in Cairo. In the graces of her person, Hortense improves daily ; she dresses with taste, and certainly, without being nearly so beautiful as your sisters, she could hardly f^il to please even when they were present. As for me, I beguile the time in writing to you, listening to your praises, or reading the journals, where I see your name on every page." " God knows when or where this letter will reach you ; and may it restore to you the repose you never should have lost, and give you an assurance that while I live you will be dear to me as on the day of our last separation. Farewell, my only Friend ! Confide in me, love me, and receive a thousand tender caresses !" XXXY. But this touching letter did not reach Napoleon till after his return to France. In the meantime, Josephine, when she could escape from the brilliant but tiresome throng of her salons, fled to her beautiful gardens to brood over her misfortunes, and long for the return of her husband. All communication between the French in Egypt and their country was broken off, and for many months no tidings was heard of the army, or its Commander. Finally, on the 9th of November, [1799], during the height of festivities, in a numerous and brilliant assembly at the house of the Presi dent of the Directory, a messenger entered with a tele- graphic communication, announcing that Bonaparte had that morning landed at Fregus. Intriguers had even circu- lated the story of his death, and a score of ambitious aspi HER JOURXEY TO MEET NAPOLEON, 259 rants were coolly calculating their chances for supremacy in the French nation. Josephine withdrew, overwhelmed with agitation, and resolved to set out that very night on a journey to the sea-coast, to meet her husband on his way to Paris. Accompanied by Louis Bonaparte and her daughter Hortense, she entered her carriage, and pressed on by post- horses with the utmost speed. Without stopping a moment for repose, and scarcely alighting from her carriage, she impatiently urged the postillions on, till they had left hun- dreds of miles behind them, and she came up to the Hotel de Ville, in Lyons. But Napoleon had already several days before, started for Paris by another route ; and when Jo- sephine learned the sad intelligence, she apprehended the worst consequences, and fell senseless to the ground. The moment she recovered, she again ordered the carriage, and, without refreshment or repose, began to retrace her steps. The imagination may conceive how exquisite was her suf- fering, and how tantalizing the delay must have been. " It seemed as though we never should get there,'' said Josephine, and yet the axles of the wheels were several times on fire from the speed of the horses — changing so often at the relays, that over each post they fled at the top of their speed. XXXYI. About midnight, on the 18th, Josephine alighted at the house in the Rue de la Yictoire. Those apartments, where they had been so happy in their mutual confidence, had now for several days resounded with Napoleon's threat of di- vorce — " open and public divorce." In the midst of one of his transports of rage, an old friend who was the lago of the plot, said to him — " She will appear, and everything will be explained. You will forgive everything, and recover your trr.nquillity." 260 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. '• I forgive ? Never ! Do you know who I am ? If I was not sure of my resolution I would tear my heart out of my bosom, and cast it into the fire." XXXVII. Eugene, who had been Napoleon's constant companion, rushed to the court-yard as the carriage drove in, and held his mother [who had been eighteen months separated from him,] once more on his bosom. The trembling Josephine, sustained by her son and daughter, mounted the stairs to the little family-room where Napoleon was sitting with Jo- seph. He turned a repulsive and freezing look on the group, and said — " Madame, it is my wish that you retire immediately to Malmaison." The brave and generous Eu- gene caught his falling mother in his arms, and drew her silently from the apartment. Shortly after, their steps were heard as they descended to leave the house at midnight. Napoleon, whose ear at that moment vibrated to every sound, started from his chair, strode violently round the -room and thought — for he could not have forgotten — that for nearly a week Josephine had lived in her carriage, and now the confiding, loving, and prostrate wife was being driven in darkness and gloom from her home. He opened the door and, calling to Eugene, told him he had better re- turn for the night. He had not the magnanimity to mention the name of his wife ; but Eugene understood him. The sad group again returned to the dwelling, and Josephine threw herself on her bed, and wept herself to sleep. XXXVIIT. For two days no intercourse took place between the en- raged husba^id and the ofiended wife. On the third day, he entered the apartment where Josephine and Hortense were THE RECONCILIATION. 2G1 sitting — tlie forraer at her toilette table, wetting witli her tears tlie passionate letters of love Napoleon had sent to her during the first months of his sojourn in Egypt ; while Hor- tense was leaning pensively by the open window, half hid by the drapery. After a moment's hesitation, he approached his wife, and in a low voice uttered the name, "Josephine !" She started, and seeing who it was, cast a look of despairing but earnest love upon the soldier, and smiling through her tears, answered, " My Friend !" — the only epithet she ever gave Napoleon. His better nature had asserted its right to control his affections, and he had already pierced the flimsy gauze of that infernal web of lies that had been woven around him. He first extended his hand — she seized it, and bent before him. " To my bosom," he said ; and they blended their convulsive joy and sorrow together. From that moment Napoleon ceased to suspect his wife, and loved her as he never had, and never did another woman till the last day of his life. A month after his return from Egypt, those events had occurred which we have already recorded, that ended in his seizing the Government — scattering the corrupt and factious legislative assemblies, and annihilating the tyranny of a cowardly and corrupt Directory. XXXIX. The 18th Brumaire was a day of hazard and exposure to Napoleon, and to any other man who had calculated the chances, must have seemed to have abounded in the most terrible risks. But still he found time during the day, to write several notes, and dispatched several messengers to Josephine, keeping her informed from hour to hour of the progress of events ; and at night he brought with him to her apartment the latest news of the struggle. But it was apprehended that the sternest part of the contest would 262 EMPEESS JOSEPHIXE. follow on the coming day ; and when they parted in the morning, Josephine was filled with the most painful appre- hensions. Hour after hour she was looking from the win- dows for the arrival of the messengers, but none came. She started at the sound of every horse's foot on the pavement, and the roll of every carriage through the streets — but no tidings came ; and at last she threw herself at midnight in tears upon her bed. Towards daybreak, kowever, the First Consul entered her apartments, and Josephine rushed to his embrace. He briefly related to her the occurrences of the day, and then saying, as he laid down for a half hour's sleep on a sofa, " Good-Night, Josephine ! To-morrow you shall sleep in the Palace of the Luxembourg." '' Who has been killed ?" responded Josephine. Napoleon, who was already half asleep, simply replied, " Nobody, but myself." XL. Napoleon redeemed his pledge ; and, the next night, Jo- sephine, after receiving the congratulations of Paris, slept in the Luxembourg. Two months later, the First Consul made another step in his progress to the imperial dignity, by taking possession of the Royal Palace of the Tuilleries. The occasion was distinguished by one of those brilliant fetes with which the gay and elegant Parisians mark the occur- rences which concern the fortunes of their nation, or add eclat to popular movements. The suite of apartments appro- priated to Josephine were those which had been usually inhabited by the queens of France — the two large salom fronting the gardens. From this moment, the nightly recep- tions assumed all the dignity and splendor which made the old noblesse so proud of the Court of St. Cloud. Twelve Foreign Ambassadors then resided at the Consular Court THE CONSULATE — FIRST RECEPTION. 263 and all the most brilliant characters of France, :Qoved in those scenes of gorgeous splendor. XLI. " At the first public reception," says Dr. Memes, (the only authentic historian, hitherto, of the life of Josephine), " Ma- dame Bonaparte was announced, and entered, supported by M. de Talleyrand, then Minister for Foreign Affairs. In a scene where diamond and star, cordon and plume, in more than usual profusion, thus caught radiance and shade, from lights that shone ' o'er fair women and brave men,' expect- ancy must have been high, on the first appearance of her who was to fill the prime station. A momentary feeling of disap- pointment might have crossed for an instant, those minds who had looked for magnificence and state. Josephine was attired in the utmost simplicity ; her hair without decora- tion of any kind, and merely retained by a plain comb d/ecaiUe, fell in tresses upon her neck in the most becoming negligence — a collar of pearls, an unobtrusive ornament, but of great value, harmonized with, and completed this un- pretending costume. We have the evidence of an eye-wit- ness, that a spontaneous murmur followed Josephine's en- trance ; such being the grace and dignity of her deportment, that with all this absence of the external attributes of rank, a stranger Avould at once have fixed upon the principal per- sonage in the splendid circle. Always accompanied as she had entered, Madame Bonaparte made the tour of the apart- ments, the members of the Foreign Diplomacy being intro- duced first, in succession, by the Minister. When the intro- ductions had nearly concluded, the First Consul entered with- out being announced, dressed in a plain Chasseur uniform, with a sash of tri-colored silk. In this simplicity, both good taste and sound policy concurred. The occasion was not a 264 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE. levee — the First Magistrate and Ms wife merely received the congratulations of their fellow-citizens of a free Repub- lic. At this period, Josephine had completed by some months, the thirty-sixth year of her age, and she might have passed for even younger than this. At a time of life, when, as respects the charms of mind and conversation, woman is most fascinating, she still enjoyed those personal advantages which are thought to belong exclusively to more youthful years. The surpassing taste displayed in the mysteries of her toilet, were doubtless not without their influence in pro- longing the empire of beauty ; but nature had been origin- ally bountiful in no common degree. Josephine was rather above than below the medium size, hers being exactly that perfection of stature which is neither too tall for the ele- gance of feminine proportion, nor yet so diminutive as to detract from dignity. Her person, in its individual forms, exhibited faultless symmetry, and the whole frame, animated by lightness and elasticity of mind, seemed like something serial in its perfectly graceful carriage. Her features were small and finely modeled, the curves tending rather to full- ness, and the profile inclining to Grecian, but without any statue-like coldness of outline." XLII. But Josephine was as much delighted to escape from the severe dignity of the Tuilleries to the quiet seclusion of M'al- maison^ as her husband was to fly from fawning battalions of flattering place-seekers, to the quiet conversations and uninterrupted studies and investigations of their charming country villa. About this time, Josephine suffered continual alarm from the repeated attempts which were made to as- sassinate her husband. Even the road from Paris to Mal- maison — a wild district leading through the quarries of Nan-' JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 265 terre — was infested with assassins hired by the Bourbons and their allies to kill the First Consul. Josephine never passed over it without dispatching a body of men before- hand, to clear the way. The explosion of the infernal ma- chine, which slightly wounded Josephine, and made her ner- vously apprehensive of other conspiracies, together with the openness of the outrage, decided Napoleon on doing some- thing which should strike terror through the hearts of his enemies. He seized the Duke d'Enghien, and had him killed in a ditch in the Castle of Yincennes. Josephine put fortn the most heroic exertions to save his life, and in his fate, considered as an individual, there was much to lament ; but it fortunately put an end to all schemes for the assassination of the Chief Ruler of France, and ever after Josephine was undisturbed by those painful apprehensions which gave her so many unhappy hours. In the spring of 1800, Napoleon left Malmaison for the second campaign in Italy, and in less than two months had won these astounding victories ; and again on the 2d of July was greeted by Josephine and all Paris in the halls of the Tuilleries. She had passed most of the interval in planning and executing new and picturesque effects in the extended and magical grounds of Malmaison ; and as every day gave the last finish to some new touch or vista of beauty, she exclaimed, with a radiant face, " This, too, shall welcome my Cid — when Achilles comes home from the wars." Within these grounds were preserved rare and curious beasts, birds and monsters, that either Napoleon pro- cured during his conquests, or that were sent to him in homage of his genius, by foreign princes. Dr. Memes says, that one of Josephine's favorite amusements was playing billiards in the evening. " This beautiful game she played with greater grace than skill, though more than a match for Napoleon." i:66 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. XLIII. Tlie Hero of Marengo returned to Paris with nt ,v laurels on liis bro\y, and Josephine was prouder and happier than ever. Dr. Memes has made so picturesque a drawing of their every-day life at this time, that we cannot forego the temptation of another extract : — " The domestic felicity of the First Consul when at Mal- maison seemed to be complete. He had around him only attached relatives or the most devoted servants, and his amusements were of the simplest kind. Bourrienne has described their family theatricals — a relaxation which was at once conducted with the greatest decorum, and a source of much innocent enjoyment both to Bonaparte and to Josephine. Proud of the talents of her children, and grati- fied by their power to contribute to his entertainment for whose happiness she wished only to live, among the distin- guished performers in the Malmaison company, she had the satisfaction to see Eugene, Hortense, and her two favorite proteges, the sisters Auguie, the elder of whom afterward became the wife of Marshal Ney. Another amusement may be described as still more peculiarly characteristic. This was the game of 'prisoners,^ so well known among schoolboys, when two parties run against each other, seizing as captives such of their unfortunate opponents as happen to be caught within certain limits round the respective stations. The members of the ordinary circle at Malmaison were all young, active, and every one inclined to enjoy life sans f agon, while their Chief probable delighted in a sport which in some measure brought back an image of the grand game of war. Usually after dinner the party was arranged. Bonaparte and Josephine, Eugene, Hortense, Caroline Bona- parte, Rapp, Lauriston, Duroc, Isabey, with Bourrienne, and a few other confidential retainers, divided into two camps, MARRIAGE OF HORTENSE WITH LOUIS. 207 as they were termed ; and, when nothing pressed, the sport often continued for hours. The best runners were Eugene and his sister ; but Bonaparte, in the selection of parti- sans, always chose Josephine, never suffering her to be in any camp but his own. When by chance she happened to be taken prisoner, he always seemed uneasy till she waa released, making all exertions for that purpose, though a bad runner himself, often coming down in mid career with a, heavy fall on the grass. Up again, however, he started, bat usually so convulsed with laughter that he could not possibly move, and the affair generally ended in his captivity. When placed in durance, or when Josephine had been taken, he kept constantly calling out to his party, ' A rescue ! a res- cue !' clapping his hands, shouting to encourage the runners, and, in short, exhibiting all the ardor of a boy at play. When we find the Conqueror at Marengo, the restorer of France, thus yielding to the kindly promptings of harmless mirth in the bosom of his family, we almost forget his real character." XLIY. Pew mothers ever doted so fondly on a child as did Josephine on Hortense — few mothers have had so brilliant a child to dote on ; and no mother could have devoted her- self with more untiring energy and persuasive affection than she did to her education. In her brief biography we can more appropriately speak on this point. The mai- riage of Hortense with Napoleon's brother Louis, which ended so unfortuuately, Josephine was mainly instrumental in promoting ; and, if it does not sound too harshly, we will say that the glitter of the Coronet of Holland she was thereby to win, blinded the eyes of her mother to the inevi- table fruits of a union where there was no affection on either ■ 268 ' EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. pide. But the nuptials took place witli the most imposiiic^ and brilliant ceremonies, and until their final separation Josephine endeavored to inspire her daughter with kindlier and more gentle sentiments toward her husband than she herself was disposed to entertain. But this whole matter will be treated more in detail in another place. XLY. During every interval of Napoleon's campaigns, he was in the habit of visiting the French Provinces, and he was also anxious that his wife should attend him. She was beloved by all the French people, whatever may have been their political prejudices or passions. And so, wherever the Con- sular or Imperial coi'tege passed, she was greeted by pro- longed and heartfelt welcomes. On one occasion, an anti- quated personage whose toilet bespoke the dilapidations o** time, was presented. He was ushered into the Cabinet of Napoleon, where Josephine happened at that time to be sitting. Embarrassed by the fame of the man befare whom he stood, he could not at once make known the object of his visit. With the kind aid of Josephine, he at last made out to communicate the intelligence, that he was the Professor at Brienne, who had many years before enjoyed the signal honor of teaching Napoleon to write. " And a nice pen- man you made of me," said the First Consul ; and turning to his wife, continued — " Ask that lady." ~The poor pedagbgu was in great distress ; but she replied, that her husband' letters were the most beautiful ever written ; and the whol thing ended by a stroke of penmanship which made th pedagogue rich for life. Could some magic wand wave over the living and the dead, who owe a debt of gratitude to the kind intervention of Josephine, it would summor, up an army as numerous as that which gained the battic of FOX WITH NAPOLEON. 269 Marengo. We believe, we have elseAvhere forgotten to say, that Napoleon was a miserable writer. He even spelled badly, and in consequence of a habit of thrusting his pen into the inkstand at every word, his letters were so blot- ted that a lady of honor who was somewhat short-sighted, once remarked, when she had looked upon some of Napo- leon's epistles which the Empress was reading-, and was informed that they had been written by Napoleon, exclaimed, that she had always supposed they were sketches and maps of his battles ! Probably this innocent individual might have alleged in her own defence, that so much of Josephine's time was spent in deciphering these epistles, she had very naturally come to the conclusion she was studying geogra- phy. XLYI. When the peace of Amiens was ratified, thousands of the upper classes of England rushed across the channel to gaze upon the charred ruins of monarchy, out of which was rising the imposing form of a Great Republic. Although the British journals had succeeded in making most of their readers believe that " the French were only a nation of monkeys, until they got a taste of blood, when they become tigers," it is said, that of the multitudes who proved the courtesies of the Parisians, and the affable and hospitable graces of Josephine's salons, their letters sent home, were a. chorus of praise. Among others, Mr. Charles James Fox, the great English statesman, received especial tokens of respect from the French Consul and his wife. Soon after he reached Paris, he attended a dejeune at Madame Reca- mier's, who had the reputation of being not only one of the most beautiful of women, but perhaps the most accomplished talker in France. In that morning-circle, were the Duchess of Gordon with her daughter — afterwards the Duchess of 270 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. Bedford — Lord Erskine and the British ambassador, with many others. Before the dejeune was over, the clatter of horse's feet was heard in the court-yard, and shortly after Eugene Beauharnais was announced. After a warm recep tion by Madame Recamier and a presentation to Mr. Fox, he said to the statesman, " I hope, sir, soon to be in some measure indemnified for the loss of your company this morn- ing, [by being so late], for I am commissioned by Madame, my mother, to attend you to the Chateau of Malmaison, and I have preceded only a few minutes the carriages destined for you and your friends as soon as you can resolve on leaving so many charms as must detain you here. It wili give me infinite pleasure to act as your guide on the road." The party soon adjourned to the drawing-room, where the great Talma recited some passages from Othello and Mac beth in a good translation — if that be possible from Shaks- peare — in French — when the party entered the carriages, and drove off on the road to Malmaison. XLYII. \ Josephine had only to be natural, to delight the world ; but when she received Mr. Fox — almost the onl}^ man in the world Napoleon cared to court — a slight embarrassment seemed to mark her manner, for she knew that the fortunes of empires might vibrate with every step. If anything could add a new charm to her manner, it was this involuntary flattery of the genius of the British statesman. The whole entertainment was characterized by a degree of simplicity which constituted, perhaps, the most perfect and happy com- promise that ever was witnessed between English formality and hauteur, and French frivolity and evanescence. . Of course Napoleon was at the dinner-table, and for the first time these two great men conversed together. After the FOX'S IMPRESSIONS OF MALMAIfeON. 2Y1 tTinner, came the gardens, and then the parks, and then an evening, bristling with wit and blushing with beauty. When Fox left, he said to the Dutchess of Gordon — "I have been enchanted with the elegance and grace of every- thing I have seen and heard." When Fox drove off, Napo- leon, in a style characteristic of himself, said, as he fixed his eye upon the ground for half a minute—" Fox is a great man." XLVIII. Napoleon's appointment as Consul for Life, with the power of naming his successor, would have given more force to the arguments which many of his friends brought forward in favor of a divorce, had not a son been born, at this period, to Louis and Hor tense, who, in the event of Napoleon and Josephine never having any children, might be designated as his heir. It is certain, however, that the solicitude of his wife, when it had been once awakened, was never to be fully allayed again, and possibly this might have had some influence with her, in her endeavors to persuade her husband to aban- don all ideas of a throne, and content himself with the honor, the power, and the fame of the First Consul. It appears also, that she used whatever influence she possessed with her husband, in favor of the restoration of the Bourbons. She succeeded in procuring for them many favors, in mitigating the severity of many decisions of the tribunals, in restoring to them confiscated estates, and thereby laid a claim to their lasting gratitude. But the recipients of these favors re- garded them only as partial concessions of what they were entitled to, by the laws and usages of ages ; and it subse- quently appeared that the most malignant and unscrupu- lous of all the foes of Napoleon, Josephine, and their house, turned out to be those same families which were indebted to them for their lives and fortunes. 272 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. XLIX. However gratifying tlie Proclamation of the Empire may Lave been to Napoleon, it is certain that this great act was done with the hearty concurrence of the French people. There was a universal desire in France, that a new and more powerful throne should be erected ; and a vast majority of the inhabitants felt that upon this throne should be seated the man who had spread such glory over the French nation. Ages of oppression and corruption had slowly been pre- paring the way for the Great Revolution of 1789, and that Revolution was rather a revulsion of the national feeling against the Bourbon dynasty, than a conversion of the peo- ple to a republican faith. Republicanism, as we understand the term, with its simple forms, and secured constitutional guaranties which distinguish the Republic of the United States, could not at that time subsist in France. Such a Republic the last four years have equally shown to be impos- sible there, and France is now in very much such a state, with one of the Bonaparte race at the head of the nation, as she was in 1803, just before the proclamation of the Empire. L. It may seem somewhat strange, but we doubt not it is true, that Josephine not only had no desire to wear an imperial crown, but she even contemplated her coronation with the most painful apprehensions. "~ In an affectionate and touching letter, written about this time to her husband, she does not disguise her sorrow and apprehension, in view of the approaching Proclamation of the Empire. " You have alarmed me," she says, " by your ambitious flight : Re- store my confidence by your return to moderation." With almost prophetic glance, she pierced the future, and foresaw the difficulties and dangers which would attend an attempt NAPOLEONS S POLICY OF CONSOLIDATION. 273 to establish a new dynasty in the midst of the old ones of Europe. Her letter still serves as a picture almost as graphic and truthful as history itself, of the consequences of the great act Napoleon was contemplating. But he endeavored to calm the apprehensions of his wife, and with the degree of confidence she then entertained of his ability to achieve everything he undertook, he succeeded so far, that Josephine went calmly through the grand cere- mony of the coronation, which took place on the 18th of May, 1804. The occasion was marked by a succession of the most brilliant fetes that had probably ever been wit- nessed in Europe. There seemed to be but one heart in France, and that was beating with exultation at the glory of the Empire, and breathing forth aspirations for the future welfare of the new dynasty. LI. Most writers have been disposed to regard Napoleon's anxiety to conciliate the ancienne noblesse, to the wish of Jo- sephine, who seemed anxious that they should be restored as far as possible to their ancient splendor. Others have attri- buted this desire of Napoleon rather to the promptings of his own ambition, and the gratification of his pride, in having his new throne surrounded by the satellites that shone around the throne of Louis. But it is more probable that all these, with many other motives, dictated this policy. That Napoleon was anxious to consolidate his dynasty on the throne of France, was apparent to all. That from the proclamation of the Empire, it became the great object of his life to achieve it, there is no doubt. From the* first moment, too, that he had taken the reins of power into his own hands as a civil ruler, he had put forth every exer- tion to allay the spirit of disaftection and unite all classes 274 EilPRESS JOSEPHINE. of Frenchmen in the great work of advancing the glorv and power of the nation. We cannot, however, but regard his a-tteniDt to restore the ancienne noblesse to their dignity and honors, as a capital mistake. Every effort that he made to attach them to his Court, and win them over to his side, only weakened his position, and hastened his overthrow. The French Revolution was a solemn and fearful, but an earnest and bloody proclamation of the divorce of the future from the past ; and the Coronation of Napoleon him- self, only affixed the most solemn seal to this deliberate act of the French Nation. With the past, which was blotted out, fell the Bourbon throne ; and with it went down for- ever the ancienne noblesse. The Revolution had done away with the Feudal System, but that system still lingered in hope, until Napoleon assumed the civil power — when he barred it out of France forever. The ancient distinctions of caste, which had for ages been intrenched in France, he swept away. A great many people, of more fancy than judgment, have dwelt with delight on the Feudal System, particularly in France, where it existed in its most splendid and imposing form. It crushed the people into the earth, and they had no appeal from the oppression they suffered. Napoleon established complete civil equality in several most important particulars, and all the distinctions of the Empire were thrown open to every man. When, therefore, he — an Emperor — ^an Emperor of 'the People, and the Founder of a Dynasty of the People — at- tempted to restore the ancienne noblesse, he attempted an im possibility. It was an act of the greatest political incon sistency, at war with the whole policy, and hostile to the very existence of his Empire. Every member of the ancient aristocracy he admitted to hip conrt — particularly Ladies of Honor, wuo surrounded Josephine — hated, and in their THE OLD, AXD THE XE\Y ARISTOCRACY. 275 very liparts despised tins musliroom noblesse. However obse- quious they may have shown themselves in the presence of the imperial pair, they loathed their position, and endured it only for the facilities it gave them to intrigue for the ultimate restoration of the Bourbons, or the pay they got for the service. LII. We might extend these observations, and show how gross were the improprieties of conduct which many of these ladies of the ancienne noblesse were guilty of ; but Josephine gives a clue to it all, in a single remark — " How infinitely better satisfied I am with the dignified reserve of Madame de Montmorency, than with the eagerness of others, who, while they adulate me here in the Tuilleries, with the grossest flatteries, are always ready to talk of Madame Bonaparte, in certain salons of the Fauxbourg St. Germaine." A little incident related of Napoleon, shows how well he understood this state of things. Entering one morning the drawing- room of the Empress, where she was surrounded by the ladies of her Court, he held up a superb diamond aigrette of great value, he had just received as a present from the Sul- tan. There was a general exclamation of admiration and delight — each one declaring that it was the most beautiful bijou she had ever seen. On this occasion, as on all others, the Baroness de Montmorency preserved that true dignity which had always characterized her manners at this new Court. The Emperor, who through life, admired independ- ent and straight-forward conduct, took the costly aigrette, and broke it in two, and handing one half to the Empress, turned to Madame de Montmorency, saying, "Permit me, Madame, to request your acceptance of this small token of my esteem." Napoleon despised the sycophancy of these 276 EMPRESS JOSEPIIIXE. members of the ancient nobility gathered around his Court, for he knew that while they fawned, they would have stabbed him, had they dared. LIII. The Emperor exposed himself to a great deal of satire and ridicule, by the anxiety he displayed on all occasions, to restore the etiquette of the Bourbon Court. He even interested himself in the study of its details, with as much intensity as he had ever investigated a mathematical pro* blem, and was much incensed if he observed the slightest de- parture from the etiquette of the Imperial Court. Huge folios were compiled, to serve as " Manuals of Etiquette'^ and " Guides of Court ;" and the highest authorities inform us that the most talented and brilliant women of France passed hours every day in the study of their mortal pages. One historian says : — " The number of steps was counted — the positions of the arms, and the curve of salutation, were described with the same rigorous precision as the 'military exercises of the raw conscript." The acquisition of these arbitrary accomplishments, was, however, a far more serious thing in the provincial cities where the Imperial Court was always opened in fall etiquette, wherever the Emperor and the Empress were passing in their progress on tours of pleasure. On a certain occasion, when the Court was to pass a few days in one of the cities on the frontier of the Rhine, all the circles of fashion were thrown into a fever of excitement at the approaching presentations. " One of the ladies to be presented, wrote to a friend of hers at Paris, for instruc- tion," says Doctor Memes, " and received the following : — ' You make three courtesies — one on entering the saloon, one in the middle, and a third, a few paces further on, en ETIQUETTE OF THE IMPERlAl COURT, 277 pirouette.^ This last phrase proyed a complete mystery, and nad nearly turned all respectable heads in Cologne — the scene of expected operations. A consultation was called, the letter communicated, and deep deliberation ensued. Many of the ladies were old — en pirouette ! — very difficult ; Bome of German blood, were tall — en pirouette ! — very awk- Avard ; some were young — en pirouette ! — might tumble — very bad that • some were short — en pirouette ! — looked squat, and they drew themselves up ; in fine, all found the reverence en pirouette to be a very questionable experiment. At lengthy a member of the Divan proposed the alternative, that since resigning the honor was not even to be thought of, they should prepare, by exercise and practice, for duly appearing in the court circular. No sooner said than done ; the decision gave universal satisfaction. The conclave broke up ; and for the next fifteen days, in all the drawing- rooms of the venerable city of Cologne, from morning till night, the ladies were twirling away like so many spinning- tops or dancing dervishes. Nothing was talked of during the same space but these evolutions ; how many circumgira- tions one could make and yet keep her feet ; how many falls another had got, or how gracefully a third performed. Happily, on the evening when the Court did actually arrive, and consequently, on that preceding the ceremonial, which had given rise to all this activity, the original propounder of the motion bethought her of calling upon one of the Em- press's ladies for still more precise instructions. The re- doubted pirouette was now found to have been misunder- stood, implying simply a gentle inclination, in rising, to- wards the personages of the Court ; and Josephine had the satisfaction of being amused by the recital in private, and thus escaped the mortification of beholding her vi^^iters of the morrow transferred into so many rotary machines *' 278 EMPEESS JOSEPHINE. * The same writer records another incident, which illustrates the noble nature of Josephine, and how little the stately formalities and cold etiquette of the Imperial Court chilled the geniality of her spirit. LIT. Josephine was always desirous of accompanying her hus- band, whenever he left Paris, and he gratified this desire as often as possible ; but on one occasion, after he had promised her she should go with him, he changed his purpose, on the arrival of a courier with important news, and gave orders to have everything got ready for the departure at one o'clock at night. He was just stepping into his carriage, when Josephine, who had in spite of his precautions, learned that he was going, flew from her chamber, half-dressed, ran down stairs, and cast herself into his arms. The Emperor, like most other men, found it difiicult to resist such an ap- peal, and the tears of Josephine at last prevailed. She would go, and yet Napoleon could not wait one minute. He laid her down on the bottom of the carriage, and covered her with his traveling-pelisse, and giving a hasty order about her clothes, ard attendants, the carriage whirled away. LV. But although in the restoration of all the etiquette of the ancienne regime, which comported so ill with the newness and republican origin of the Emperor, subjected him to the severest satire, he won the applause of the friends of virtue everywhere by the high standard of morality he exacted in the manners of the Court. It is universally conceded that in this respect, he worked a complete revolution. He inva- riably refused every application, from whatever quarter it came, for unmarried ladies to be attached to his Court 279 Even Josephine herself was powerless to infringe this inva- riable rule. The disorders, and sensualities of his predeces- sors on the throne of France, had been immeasurably gross and disgusting. Nothing of this kind existed under the reign of Napoleon. As a natural consequence, the standard of morality was everywhere, in French society, elevated. This happy change has been going on until the present time, when the manners and the morals of the French people en- title them to the respect and admiration of the civilized world — although it is quite possible that strenuous efforts in the same direction, might still meet with further progress. LVI. But Josephine's tranquillity of mind did not long continue, and discerning as she did, with infallible accuracy, the feeling of the Court, and understanding as she did, the in- trigues continually going on to effect a divorce, she once more began to prepare her mind for a second widowhood during the life of her husband. Every reader of her me- moirs will be impressed more deeply perhaps by the magni- tude of her sorrows, than the splendor of her good fortune. On the occasion of the grand reception of the Princes of Germany, the Empress saw for the first time the young Princess of Baden, whom Talleyrand was endeavoring tn persuade Napoleon to choose for his second wife ; he had often represented her as the most beautiful and accomplished princess in Europe. When the two ladies met, the contrast was so broad, between the plain, and almost rude German girl, and her imperial rival, that even Talleyrand himself saw that the case was hopeless, and from that time dropped the subject altogether. So completely was the diplomatic intriguer foiled in this attempt, that the hereditary Prince of Baden afterwards sued for, aad married Stephanie Beau- 280 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. harnais, Josephine's own neice. From time to time, these schemes for a divorce were renewed and prosecuted with fresh ardor, and just as often they failed. Josephine perhaps became persuaded that her husband did not seriously enter- tain them ; and, long after the divorce had finally taken place, she said that Napoleon would never have dreamed of it, had it not been pressed on him so constantly by others. The imposing ceremony of the Coronation of the Emperor by Pius YII., for a- while annihilated the hopes of Jo- sephine's enemies and re-assured herself. In the memoir of Cardinal Fesch, we have spoken of the coronation, and also of the fact, that the Pope had refused to celebrate it, until Napoleon and his wife, who had only been joined by a civil process, had first been married with all the solemnities and sacraments of the Catholic Church. The intercourse of the Empress and the Pope, during his five months' residence in Paris, was marked by every sign of courtesy and affection- ate regard. Everything which the most refined taste, and the purest veneration for virtue and official dignity could dictate on the part of Josephine, was done. As long as these two personages lived, their intercourse was maintained by correspondence, and their letters are among the most in- teresting and beautiful which have ever passed between illustrious sovereigns. LYII. "^ We can devote but a single paragraph to the part Jo trephine sustained on the magnificent day of the coronation A reliable authority which we draw from, thus minutely describes the toilet of the Empress : — " The body-drapery of the Empress was of white satin, beautifully embroidered in gold, and on the breast orna- mented \vi^-h diamonds. The mantle was of crimson velvet, josephixe's coronation. 281 Iii;ed with white satin and ermine, studded with golden bees, and confined by an aigrette of diamonds. The coro- nation jewels consisted of a crown, a diadem, and a ceinture. The first, used for the actual crowning, and worn only on state occasions, consisted of eight branches, four wrought in palm, and four in myrtle leaves of gold, incrusted with dia monds : round the circlet ran a corded fillet set with eight very large emeralds ; and the bandeau which immediately inclosed the head, shone with resplendent amethysts. The diadem, worn before the coronation, and on the more ordi- nary state, occasions, was composed of four rows of pearls of the finest water, interlaced with foliage of diamonds, the workmanship of which equaled the materials ; in front were several brilliants, the largest weighing one hundred and forty-nine grains. The ceinture was of gold so pure as to be quite elastic, enriched with thirty-nine rose-colored dia- monds." We have always thought that more importance should be attached to one circumstance that occurred during the coro- nation, than has usually been given to it. Although, in sending to the capital of the Catholic world for a Pope to consecrate the establisli^ent of the new dynasty, Napoleon may have seemed to surrender the great principle of his political faith, yet in forbidding the Pontiff from even touch- ing the crown which lay before him, and especially by the act of lifting it himself, and placing it on his own head, he ga^e the world to understand that he was the founder and author of his own dynasty. It was to her husband that Josephine knelt, and it was from his hands that she received her imperial crown. 282 EMPEESS JOSEPHINE. LVlir. The entire month of December, was given up by their new subjects to celebrations, pomps and festivals. Illumi- nations, fetes and rejoicings, filled the Empire. On the evening of the great fete given by the city of Paris, [Dec 15], the Empress found in the apartments prepared for her temporary reception, in the Hotel de Yille, a toilet-service a table, ewer and basin of massive gold, and exquisite work manship — a present from the Municipality of Paris. A curious incident also occurred in connection with this fete, worth relating : — An immense balloon, formed into the shape of an imperial crown, irradiating brilliant lamps like the gems of a coronet, was launched that evening. The burning diadem rose majestically into the heavens, and sailed off towards the south. Fifteen days later, as the Emperor was dressing, one morning, a member of the Privy Council entered, and announced that the diadem balloon had fallen near Pome on the evening of the 17th ; " thus bearing," said the Councilor, " your imperial crownto the two capitals of the world within twenty-two hours." The fact is perfectly substantiated, that this flying emblem of the glory of Napoleon's Empire, had traversed France, scaled the Alps, and swept over Italy, 900 miles, at the rate of forty-five an hour. LIX. One evening in April, another incident still more signifi- cant of the fortunes of the Napoleon Dynasty, occurred. Hortense had just given birth to her second son, and Louis Napoleon was solemnly baptized in the presence of his Uncle, the Emperor, and his Grand-mother, Letitia, who became his sponsors. It is more than probable that as Na- poleon took the babe in his arms, he thought that he might JOSEPHINE CKOSSING THE ALPS. 283 one day wear his crown ; and it is certain that years after- wards, when the Emperor held this boy on his knee, he playfully talked with him about his one day sitting upon the throne. After the festivities which followed the ceremonies of this baptism that same evening, were concluded, as Napoleon was passing through the hall to retire, he uttered to the Marshal of his household the simple order — " Horses at six for Italy." Napoleon visited Brienne, the scene of his youthful studies on the tour, while Josephine joined him — by a more direct route — at Lyons. Those stupendous roads which the Emperor afterwards constructed over the Alps, were then but just begun, and two beautiful sedans — the Emperor's lined with crimson and ornamented with gold, and Josephine's with blue satin, and ornaments of silver — had been sent from Turin, for crossing Mount Cenis. These luxurious means of transport enabled the Empress to cross that terrible barrier of ice which separates the North of Europe from the Holy Land of the scholar, and the Para- dise of climates, with the luxurious ease of an excursion through the parks of Malmaison. But, participating in the inspiring scenes which surrounded her, Josephine often step- ped from the sedan, and, calling for the arm of her husband, walked considerable distances through the snow, rapt in the inspiration which these awful sublimities of nature wakened. LX. She desired to visit some of the scenes of her husband's /ictories during the Italian Campaign, and the cortege drove to the battle-field of. Marengo, where the Empress was sur- prised by the magnificent array of 30,000 of the finest troops of the Empire, who were reviewed in front of a vast amphitheatre, that had been erected beforehand ; and, seated 284 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. at Napoleon's side, she witnessed the distribution of the Cross of the Legion of Honor to the heroes of the Empire. She noticed sometning curious in the uniform of the Empe- ror. His hat was trimmed with broad but tarnished gold- Lace. The cloak that he now called his imperial mantle, was worm-eaten. His coat was blue, with long skirts, and at his side hung a heavy cavalry sabre — all bespeaking days of greater simplicity, and harder knocks. Said Josephine, " Why — ^how shabby you are dressed." " Dressed !" said Napoleon ; " why ! will not this do ?— ■ This is what I wore on the day of Marengo." When these scenes of mimic-war, which revived the recollections of the brilliant victories of Italy were passed, the imperial cortege traveled to Milan, where the ceremony of the Coronation of Napoleon, as King of Italy, was cele- brated with great splendor in the cathedral. This most superb of all the mighty structures that were erected during the middle ages for the worship of God, now witnessed the most magnificent display it had ever seen. The Iron Grown of the Lombard Kings, which, just one thousand and four years before, had encircled the brow of Charlemange, now pressed the head of Napoleon. One word of this most venerable of all Royal or Christian relics : It is called the Iron Crown, because a tradition — which has been believed by many wise and learned men — informs us, that the narrow strip of iron which lines the base circle^ of the crown, waa one of the nails v/hich fixed the Saviour to the Cross. It has been placed upon the anointed heads of a hundred empe- rors and kings, and can still be seen in the cathedral at Mo Liza, a small town a few miles north of Milan. There it is preserved with the regalia, the missal and other jewels and treasures of Theodolinda, one of the first Gothic Chris- tian Queens of Lombardy. THE RAPID EETURN' FPt03I ITALY. 285 LXI. After a brief sojourn in the Capital of Lombardy, the imperial tourists crossed the " terrible Bridge of Lodi," visited the Castle of Mantua, and finally reached Genoa, that superb city, whose principal avenue, lined with the finest palaces in the world for upwards of a mile, Napoleon re- marked, " was fit for a Congress of Kings." Delighted with the people, the climate, and the scenes of enchantment and festivity around her, she wished to remain for a considera- ble period ; but the despots of Europe had consolidated another coalition against the new Emperor, and the first blasts of the storm of battle were now sweeping down from the North. The receipt of important information, hurried Napoleon back to Paris, to prepare for the campaign of Austerlitz. Josephine could have returned with more lei- sure, but she preferred to accompany her husband. Once on the journey, they hardly rested an hour till it was finished. The relays of post-horses were now so complete all over the Empire, that a journey of a thousand miles could be performed almost with the speed of a railway. This resembled a flight rather than a journey. As the carriage came up to each station, buckets of fresh water were dashed upon the smoking wheels which caught fire at every relay ; yet so great was the impatience of the Emperor, that he was continually crying out, " On ! — on ! — we do not move !" at every step, although the panting horses were flying as though they were on a race-course. LXII. After a brief interval of repose in Paris, the Emperor pushed on to Boulogne, struck his camp of 200,000 men, who had been destined for the invasion of England, and pointed the flight of his Eagles once more beyond the Rhine. 286 EMPRESS JOSEPHIKE. Josephine was left Eegent of the Empire; and, to show with what lofty and just yiews she contemplated the im- portance of her new duties, we quote the following letter, which she addressed to Cambaceres, Arch-Chancellor of the Empire, and her chief adnser : — "Sir, — To-morrow, as you know, in absence of the Em- peror, I am to give audience to the Senate and the different authorities. In a conjuncture of such moment, two things are needful — to inform you of my intentions, and to receive your advice. In this my necessity, to whom can I more properly apply than to the distinguished personage who pos- sesses the Emperor's entire confidence, and whom France regards, with reason, as his worthy representative ? " The various addresses have been communicated to me, and I send you an outline of the terms in which, I conceive, T ought to reply. " I remind the Senate, that as fathers of their country and conservators of her institutions, to them belongs the sole duty of maintaining a balance between the different powers of the state, not permitting themselves to encroach upon any one. To the legislative body I say, that their functions are to judge, and to pass laws, particularly those relating to taxation, without meddling in the march of government, which such interference would impede. I call to the remem- brance of the Council of State, that for them has been' re- served the important duty of preparing, by previous discus- sion, good internal laws, and a durable legislation. To the ministers I state, that they form neither a corporation nor even a legislative commission — neither the administration nor the government ; but that, under the title of superior agents of the government, and first commissioners of its chief, they execute, and cause to be executed, orders which JOSEPHIN-E REGENT OE THE EMPIRE. '287 are the immediate consequences of legislative determina- tions. To the clergy I explain, that they form a portion of the state, while the state never is, and never can be, tranc- ferred to them; that their sole and exclusive province is the conscience, upon which they are to act so as form citizens to the country, soldiers for the territory, subjects for the sovereign, and virtuous fathers of families. To the magis- tracy I say, that applying without interpreting the laws, in unity of views and identity of jurisprudence, they are to seize with sagacity the spirit of the law, reconciling the hap- piness of the governed with the respect due to governors. To the savans I acknowledge, that the gentle empire of the arts, of science, and literature, tempers whatever might be too austere in arms, which yet, in a season of transition and trial, are indispensable. The manufacturers and merchants are reminded, that they should have but two thoughts, which at bottom are one and the same — the prosperity of our own productions, and the ruin of those of England. Finally, to the agriculturists it is stated, that the treasures of France are buried in the soil, and that by the plough- share and the spade they are thence to be extracted. To the heroes of either service I have nothing to say — this palace is filled with their exploits ; and from under a canopy of standards, conquered by their valor, and consecrated by their blood, do I speak. " Let me know speedily, and with perfect frankness, whether I am worthy thus to address the augnst assembly of my hearers." LXIII. We need not again recount the prodigies of this brilliant campaign. Scarcely a day passed without the arrival of Napoleon's couriers, bringing intelligence of new victories ; but for some time now no courier had arrived, and Jo- 288 ' EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. sephine liad begun to grow anxious. A numerous circle had passed the evening at St. Cloud, where the non-arrival of intelligence formed almost the only subject of conversa tion. Josephine felt the deepest depression of spirits, and the party was about to break up late at night, when, sud- denly, shouts were heard, and a single rider came up into the court-yard. The Empress rushed to the windows, and heard the grateful words — " Victory !— Austerlitz !" She flew down the stairs, followed by the ladies of the Court, where she was greeted by " Moustache," (the soubriquet Na- poleon had fixed on his faithful Mameluke,) who put into her hands a hasty note from the field of battle by the Emperor. She made out the contents of the half-illegible scrawl by the light of the flambeaux, and drawing from her finger a superb diamond ring, presented it to this swarthy son of the Nile. He had ridden one hundred and fifty miles within the last twelve hours ; and, as he was taken exhausted from the saddle, his noble horse fell dead on the pavement ! LXIV. Another circumstance now added to the happiness of Jo- sephine — The marriage of her son Eugene with the Princess Koyal of Bavaria. She obeyed with alacrity the mandate which called her to celebrate the nuptials at Munich. Lit tic had now for some time been said about a divorce. Her daughter had married a brother of Napoleon and was soon to be raised to the throne of Holland — her son had married into one of the royal families of Europe — Napoleon's star was mounting still higher into the firmament and blazing with deeper intensity — she was the object almost of thi* idolatry of the French nation — and Heaven seem-cd to spread every morning's sunshine upon the hills without a ■iingle cloud. DEATH OF NAPOLEON CHARLES. 289 ; LXV. This, however, was but the calmness which precedes the tempest. Had the first son of Hor tense lived, there can be little doubt thai he would have been selected as the heir to the Empire. He had evinced from his infancy the most sprightly disposition, and his Uncle was tenderly attached to him ; but he died in his fifth year, [in 1807 J, and almost immediately afterward Napoleon opened negotiations with Alexander for an alliance with one of the imperial princesses of Russia. Hortense went almost mad with the loss of this favorite boy, and Josephine herself sujQTered almost as deeply. She said that if her agony was not as acute, her sorrow was greater than a mother's. When the news came of the death of young Napoleon Charles, she spent three days in her room alone weeping, with a portrait of her grandson, a lock of his hair, and the little toys he had played with ; and she felt a presentiment of what turned out to be true, that her loss was irreparable. Many incidents had conspired to attach Napoleon to this child. One morning, for instance, after the Emperor had held a review of the Old Guard, and, coming into the Tuilleries, had thrown his sword on one sofa and his hat on another — as he walked the apartment, conversing with his wife, the little Napoleon Charles entered the room unobserved, and, putting the sword-belt over his neck and the chapeau on his head, began to march after his Uncle and whistle one of the martial airs of France. When the Emperor saw the little prince thus playing his pranks, he caught him in his arms, and, bestowing upon him the deepest caresses, said, with a smile, to Josephine — " Here is the next Emperor of France." But who the successor of Napoleon should be was to be decided in the councils of a higher Empire, 290 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. LXVI. Tlic Emperor liad returned from the ratification of the Peace of Tilsit, and reached Paris on the 27 th of July. The remainder of this last peaceful summer of Josephine's life they passed most of the time either at St. Cloud or a Fontainbleau. In the middle of November, scarcely without a warning, Josephine was asked if she would like to go to Italy ? A few hours after, the carriages came up, and they traveled with such speed through France and across the Alps, that they were within two miles of Milan before Eu- gene, now the Viceroy of Italy, knew that the Emperor had left Paris. He had just time to mount a horse, and, with a few attendants, ride out to mcQt the cortege. " Come, Eugene,'^ were Napoleon's first words; " sit here by your mother and let us enter your Capital together." Another tour through Italy followed — important political results succeeded; but in a few weeks Napoleon and Josephine returned to Paris, where they arrived on New Year's Eve, 1808. Soon after. Mademoiselle de Tascher, niece to the Empress, was married to the Duke d'Arberg, one of the Princes of the Confederation of the Rhine. Alliances were also consummated between Prince Hohenzollern and a niece of Murat ; and Berthier with a Princess of Bavaria. Hundreds of successive numbers of the journals of that day are filled with accounts of that winter of festivities which celebrated the recent triumphs of Napoleon on tiie field, and the new matrimonial ,alliances contracted by difi'erent branches of his family. Great as was Napoleon's repugnance to masked balls, he was induced to attend one of them ; when, for the first and last time in his imperial life, he is said to have participated in the dance. He bad ordered ten difi'erent dresses to be taken to the apartment designed for him j but in each disguise ho was detected. NAPOLEON AT A MASKED BALL. 291 Several of liis marshals often amused themselves with a good laugh at his utter failure in this attempt to unplay the Emperor. " Do you know," said Napoleon, when rallied on this subject, " that I was regularly discovered by a jeune dame, who seemed to be an accomplished intrigant ; and yet, would you believe it, with all my efforts I never could recog- nize the flirt.'^ Josephine was present during this conversa- tion ; and, unable to contain herself any longer, fell to laughing immoderately. Thus the discovery at last came out, that she had been the '^jeune dame " herself. LXVII. The following racy story is given on high authority by one of the biographers of Josephine : — " During the carnival of that winter the masked balls at the opera were fre- quented by all the upper classes, and were particularly amusing. Josephine was very anxious to have Napoleon see one ; but he would not go. ' Then I shall go without you, Mon Ami,' replied the Empress. ' Do as you like,' was the response, as the Emperor rose from the breakfast-table. At the appointed time Josephine left for the ball ; but, the very moment she had set out, her husband sent for one of her femmes-de-chambre to learn exactly how she was dressed. With a game to play, the Emperor resolved to do his part well ; so with Duroc, another officer, and his own favorite valet, all completely masked, he entered a common carriage, and, arm in arm, they went into the ball-room. Napoleon was that night to have the name of Auguste, Duroc was to be Fran9ois, &c. They made the tour of the apartments undetected, and not a person resembling Josephine was visible. He was about leaving, when a mask approached and rallied him with so much wit he had to stop for a reply ; but he was somewhat embarrassed, which being perceived 292 EMPKESS JOSEPHIXB. ": by the mask, harder repartees fell thick and fast. The crowd mingled in the giddy and electric movements of a lal masqu^, but at every turn this mask whispered low in his ear, a state secret, of little importance in itself, but startling to Napoleon. At last he exclaimed, after one of these whispers — ' Comment, diable ? — Who are you ?' And thus he was tormented for nearly an hour, till he could endure it no longer, when he withdrew in disdain and disgust. When he entered the palace that night, he learned that Josephine had some time before retired to her room. As they met next morning, Napoleon said — ' So you were not at the ball last night.' ' Indeed I was.' ' Oh, Josephine !' * But I assure you I was there. And you, Mon Ami,' with a half- suppressed smile, she continued, 'what were you about all the evening ?' ' I was in my cabinet,' said Napoleon. * Oh, Auguste !' replied the Empress, with an arch gesture. The whole secret was out : Josephine had donned a new costume of which her femme-de-chambre knew nothing, and Napo- leon enjoyed and repeated the joke a thousand times." It were all vain to hope that her husband, in any costume, could move without having his identity immediately de- tected by a woman of such keen perceptions as Josephine.' LXVIII. The next event of any importance in the life of Josephine is found in her departure for Bayonne with her husband; when he went to the conquest of Spain. She kept a most interesting diary of every-day occurrences during this jour- ney, but we cannot tind space for the extract of a single line. Then followed the second campaign of Vi(mna, which left Josephine a second time Regent of France. After the Emperor returned from the campaign, which was ended by the victory of Wagram, it became evident, that her divorce THE DIVORCE APPROACHING. 293 was approaching. The court was established at Fontain- bleau, but the Emperor passed very little of his time with his wife, and shortly afterwards, at the Emperor's command, the private access between their apartments was closed up. They now seldom met ; and when Josephine returned from these interviews her eyes and complexion bore marks of the intensity of her suffering. At last, when it became necessary for the Emperor to communicate undisguisedly his decision^ he endeavored to persuade her of its political necessity and advantages ; but she asserted and defended the sacredness of her claims by arguments, tears, supplications and appeals, but ending always with that calm resignation to her fate and that magnanimous immolation of self, which time and again enfeebled the purpose and unnerved the heart of the Emperor. LXIX. " In what stupor," says Josephine, in speaking of this terrible interval, " in what uncertainty, more terrible than death, did I live during these discussions, until he had avowed the resolution I had so long read clearly in his face. She rallied, however, sometimes, and one evening particu- larly when they were alone, she led her husband to the western window and, singling out a bright star, said, " Do you see it, Bonaparte ? It is mine : and remember that to my star and not to thine, sovereignty is decreed by Heaven. Separate our fates and your star sinks forever !" Again and again Napoleon's purpose was defeated ; again and again, however, he summoned resolution for what cost him the severest struggle of his life. He had at last fixed on the 3Cth of November for making known to his wife his unalterable determination. He had passed most of the day in his library, and she in tears, in the solitude of her cham- ber. They were to dine together alone. Course after 294 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE course came, and went away untouclied. The only sound at the table was the click of Napoleon's knife on the edge of his glass, which he did unconsciously. He asked one ques- tion of no importance — it was something of an attendant about the weather. " My sunshine," says Josephine's own record, " I saw had passed away. Directly after coffee, Bo- naparte dismissed every one, and I remained alone with him. I watched in the changing expression of his counte- nance, the struggle of his soul. At length his features settled into stern resolve. I saw that my hour was come. His whole frame trembled. He approached, and I felt a shuddering horror come over me. He took my hand, placed it on his heart, gazed at me for a moment, and then pro- nounced these fearful words — ' Josephine ! Josephine ! Thou knowest if I have loved thee ! To thee alone do I owe the only moments of happiness I have ever enjoyed. Josephine ! my destiny over-masters my will. My dearest affections must be silent before the interests of France.' — ' Say no more,' I had still strength enough to answer. ' I was pre- pared for this, but the blow is not less mortal.' More I could not utter. I cannot tell what passed within me. I believe my screams were loud. I thought reason had fled. I became unconscious of everything ; and, on returning to my senses, found I had been carried to my chamber." She had indeed fallen senseless upon the floor, and calling for help from the door he had opened, two or three attendants presented themselves, with whose assistance the Emperor carried his wife to her bed-room. Here the attendants were dismissed ; and, as her women entered, they found Napoleon hanging over Josephine in the deepest anxiety. Often during the night he returned to ascertain the state of liis wife. " On recovering," Josephine continues in her account, " I perceived that Corvisart [the great surgeon,] was in Josephine's warninv* to napoleon. 295 attendance, and my poor daughter, weeping over me. No, I cannot describe the horror of my situation during that night. Even the interest which he alfected to take in my sufferings seemed to me a fresh cruelty. Oh, my God, how justly had I reason to dread the day I was to become an Empress !" LXX. After a few days, Josephine addressed the following letter to her husband : — " My presentiments are realized. You have pronounced the word which separates us ; the rest is only a formality. Such is the reward — I will not say of so many sacrifices (they were sweet, because made for you) — ^but of an attach- ment unbounded on my part, and of the most solemn oaths on yours. But the state, whose interests you put forward as a motive, will, it is said, indemnify me, by justifying you ! These interests, however, to which you feign to immolate me, are but a pretext ; your ill-dissembled ambition — as it has been, so will it ever continue, the guide of your life — a guide which has led you to victories and to a throne, and which now urges you to disasters and to ruin. "You speak of an alliance to contract — of an heir to be given to your empire — of a dynasty to be founded ! But with whom do you contract that alliance ? With the natural enemy of France — that insidious house of Austria — which detests our country from feeling, system and necessity. Do you suppose that the hatred, so many proofs of which have been manifested, especially during the last fifty years, ha. not been transferred from the kingdom to the empire ; and that the descendants of Maria Theresa, that able sovereign, who purchased from Madame Pompadour the fatal treaty of 1756, mentioned by yourself only with horror — think you I 296 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. ask, that her posterity, while they inherit her power, are not animated also by her spirit ? I do nothing more than re- peat what I have heard from you a thousand times ; but then your ambition limited itself to humbling a power which now you propose to elevate. Believe me, so long as you shall be master of Europe, Austria will be submissive to you — but never know reverse ! "As to the want of an heir, must a mother appear to you prejudiced in speaking of a son? Can I — ought I to be silent respecting him who constitutes my whole joy, and on whom once centred all your hopes ? The adoption of the 2d January, 1806, was, then, a political falsehood ? But there is one reality, at least — the talents and virtues of my Eugene are no illusion. How many times have you pronounced their eulogium ! What do I say ? Have you not deemed them worthy of the possession of a throne as a recompense, and often said they deserved more ? Alas ! France has re- peated the same ; but what to you are the wishes of France ? " I do not here speak of the person destined to succeed me, nor do you expect that I should mention her. What- ever I might say on that subject would be liable ta suspicion. But one thing you will never suspect — the vow whicli I form for your happiness. May that felicity at least recompense me for my sorrows. Ah ! great it will be if proportionate ID them!" LXXI. But no public declaration had yet been made of the divorce, and it was still the duty of the Empress to attend all publie fites which celebrated the coronation. The Viceroy of Italy had been summoned to appear in these festivities but when Napoleon made known to him the decision he had come to, the noble Eugene answered by saying — " Then, Sire, allow me to retire from your service. The son of her who PROCLAMATION OF THE DIYORCE. 297 is no longer Empress, cannot remain Yicero3^ I ^^^^ follow my mother into her retreat. When you abandon her, she must find consolation in her children." It is said, that Na- poleon pronounced the following words with tears : — " You know, Eugene, the stern necessity which urges this measure — yet you abandon me. Who, then, if I should have a son whom I can love, and appoint my successor — who will watch over this child when I am gone? If I should die, who will prove a father to him — bring him up — make a man of him?" Josephine's magnanimity went so far that she not only re- solved to be present at the coronation of the woman who was to take her place — the hated Autrichienne — but she persuaded her children to concur in the act of divorce. " The Emperor," she said, " is your benefactor. He has been more than a father to you. You owe everything to him, and you are bound to consult his wishes." Another act of Josephine's must even have tasked her conscience. Before Marie Louise would consent to a marriage with Na poleon, she required evidence that he had never been mar- ried with religious rites. The reader already knows that although the night before the coronation, at the demand of the Pope, their union had been solemnized by Cardinal Fesch, yet this was a secret known only to a few, and in the official account in the Moniteur there was no record of the fact. When Josephine was appealed to, she referred in silence to the records of the Moniteur. Thus Marie Louise was left in ignorance of the religious celebration of their marriage, and therefore she consented to the nuptials. LXXII. On the loth of December, the Council of the Empire was officially informed of the intended divorce, and on the fol- lowing day, the imperial . family and court were assembled 298 ^ EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. at tlie Tuilleries. The hollowness of courts and the heart- lessness of courtiers were fully exemplified by the murmur of congratulation that went through the assemblage. Napo leon was the only sad man there. In the centre of the great saloon stood an arm-chair before a small table, on which was a sheet of parchment and an apparatus of gold for writing. When the company were all assembled, a door opened, and Josephine, dressed in a white muslin, without an ornament, slowly entered, leaning on the arm of Hortense, whose tears bespoke how little she was re- signed to this immolation of her imperial mother. With the grace which characterized all her movements, she glided half-cheerfully to a seat, where she listened with great calm- ness to the reading of the act of separation. As the words fell from the lips of the Arch- Chancellor of the Empire, large and lustrous tears rolled unbidden but calmly down her cheeks. Hortense sobbed aloud all the time, and Eu- gene, the warrior, trembled convulsively. The leading was finished. Pressing for an instant the handkerchief to her eyes, she arose, and with almost a firm voice, pronounced the oath of acceptance to this infamous deed. Resuming her seat again, she took the pen, and signed her assent to the divorce. As she had come, so she withdrew on the arm of the Queen of Holland, and Eugene, unable to con- trol his feelings, followed the suffering group, and when the door closed behind them, he fell fainting to the floor. A brave man can front danger and overawe adversity, but cannot look unmoved upon cruelty and injustice. LXXIII. But there was another act in this drama of the heart and this farce of a heartless Empire, yet to be witnessed on that day. Late at night, when the Emperor had retired to rest, JOSEPIIIXE LEAVES THE IMPERIAL PALACE. 299 suddenly the door of his chamber opened, and Josephine tottered to his bed-side, and in an agony of tears threw herself upon the neck of her husband. She knew that she ought not to be there, and yet she felt that she must. Napoleon himself was overcome with the majesty and the greatness of her suffering, and they wept together for an hour, clasped in each other's arms. It was the last time they were to meet on the imperial couch, and Napoleon him- self prolonged the interview. LXXIV. The next morning at eleven, the divorced Empress was to leave the Palace of the Tuilleries, to return to it no more. From the highest to the lowest member of the household, all assembled to witness the departure of her, who, in the fine language of one of their number, carried with her into exile, the hearts of all who had had access to her presence. Leaning on the arm of one of her ladies, and so deeply veiled that her countenance could not be seen, she descended the stair-way in a silence too profound to last ; for she had taken but a few steps before there was an involuntary and simultaneous burst of grief. But she spoke not. The only response shfe made to this touching language of grief from those who loved her, was the shudder of the last pang she was ever to feel in the imperial halls where she had embel- lished the Empire of Napoleon. She sank fainting into a close carriage, and the clatter of the feet of six horsea echoed coldly through the court-yard, as they bore away from that ancient palace, the fairest, the brightest, and the best woman that had ever sat upon the throne of France. 800 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. LXXT. Several montlis Josephine had now passed in solitude and grief. Whatever Napoleon could do to mitigate the harsh- ness of this severe stroke had been done. A pension of six hundred thousand dollars a year was settled on her for life, and promptly paid till Napoleon's fall. The magnificent villa of Malmaison, with all its grounds and treasures of art and beauty, with the ancient palace of Navarre, were pre- sented to her — and her title of Empress was confirmed.- She received frequent visits — " almost of homage " — from the members of the Imperial Court ; for it was universally understood that Napoleon desired every token of respect should be shown to his former wife. Her villa presented a more animated and brilliant spectacle than even while Napoleon was its master. It was frequented by the most illustrious statesmen, scholars, artists and men of taste, of the Empire. She was universally respected, admired and be- loved, and her fall from the throne seemed to clothe her with new splendor. - " LXXYI. - She still cherished her affection for Napoleon, and lost no opportunity of demonstrating her respect for him. " The apartment he had occupied remained exactly as" he had left it ; she would not suffer even a chair to be moved, and, indeed, very rarely permitted any one to enter, keeping the key herself, and dusting the articles ^^ith her own hands. On the table Avas a volume of history, with the page doubled down where he had finished reading ; beside it lay a pen, with ink dried on the point, and a map of the world, on which he was accustomed to point out his plans to those in his confidence, and which still showed on its surface many marks of his impatience. These Josephine would not allow to be touched on any account. By the wall stood Napoleon's JOSEPHINE AFTER THE DIVORCE. 301 camp-bed, without curtains ; and above continued to hang such of his arms as he had placed there. On different pieces of furniture were flung various portions of apparel, just as he had used them last ; for, among his other extra- ordinary ways, he had a practice, on retiring to rest, of flinging rather than taking off his clothes, casting down a coat here, a vest there, usually pitching his watch into the bed, and his hat and shoes into the farthest corner of the apartment. " Josephine's own bed-chamber, to which she removed after the divorce, was extremely simple, draped only with white muslin, its sole ornament being the gold toilet-service already mentioned, and which, with a noble generosity, she refused to consider as private property, till Napoleon sent it after her, together with many other valuables left behind in like manner." LXXVII. In devoting herself to the adornment of the villa Mal- maison, Josephine displayed the most refined and artistic taste. In a letter of instruction to her superintendent, she tells him that the first apartment of the suite, which was to serve for an ante-room, must be painted in light green, with a border of lilacs. In the panels were to be placed fine engravings from bible scenes, and under each, a portrait of the distinguished Generals of the Revolution. In the centre of the room, there was always to be a large flower-stand filled with fresh flowers in their season, and in each angle, the bust of a French philosopher. She particularly men- tions that Rousseau was to stand between the two windows, where the vines and foliage could play around his head, forming a natural crown worthy of the author of Emile, Her private cabinet was to be in light blue, with a border 302 EMPRESS JOSEPHIlfE. of ranunculus and polyanthus. Ten large engravings from tlie galiery of the Musee, and twenty medaUions, filled up the panels. The casements were painted white and green, with double fillets of gold. ^' Unite elegance to variety; but no study, no profusion. I confide to you the care of rendering this cherished spot an agreeable retreat, where I may meditate — sleep, perhaps — but often est read ; which sa3^s sufficient to remind you of the three -hundred volumes of my small edition.^' LXXVIII. The first million of francs which Napoleon allowed Jo- sephine from his own purse, were expended in restoring the castle of the ancient kings of Navarre, which had been long neglected, and nearly demolished in the Eevolution. Its immense park had once been embellished by flowing streams and gleaming lakes; but the water-courses had ceased to flow, and the lakes had become stagnant marshes. But Josephine soon made it wear a new aspect; the beds of the streams were cleared out, and covered with white gravel ; the lakes were excavated and filled with fish ; the old forest roads w^ere repaired, and fertility and beauty once more embellished this ancient retreat of the French mo- narchs. In these delightful engagements, she was aided by the taste of the most distinguished artists in France, and in her public improvements Napoleon himself aided by his ingenious and practical suggestions. Thus, gradually, the heavy cloud which had so long hung in blackness over her heavens, began to break away, and was dissolved by the balmy sunshine ; and her palace soon v/ore the aspect of hospitable, intellectual and artistic refinement. 803 LXXIX. A great deal of pleasant correspondence was maintained '^ith Napoleon ; and from one of her letters we make the following extract : — " I was perfectly assured that your attachment would discover the means of consoling me. under a separation necessary to the tranquillity of us both. After proving all the sweets of reciprocated love, and all the suffering of one that can no longer be returned ; after ex- hausting all the pleasures that supreme power can confer, what is there left but repose, that I can now desire ? Do not then condole with me on my being separated from court, which you seem to think I regret. Surrounded by those who love me — free to indulge my taste for the arts — I form a thousand projects of pleasure, in embellishing the scenes 1 owe to your generosity. There is much to be done here at Navarre ; for all around are discovered traces of destruc tion. These I will efface, that there may exist no memorial of those horrors which your genius has taught the nation almost to forget. I shall diffuse comfort around me, in re- pairing what the Revolutionary destroyers tried to annihi- late, and the benedictions of the poor will afford me infinitely more pleasure than all the feigned adulations of cour- tiers. * * My most honorable title is derived, not from having worn the Imperial Crown, but from having been chosen by you — that alone secures me immortality. I expect Eugene. I long to see him, for he will surely bring me a new pledge of your remembrance, and I can at leisure ask him a thousand things, Avhich I cannot inquire of you, and which you ought not to tell me. * * I find myself particularly at home in the midst of my forest ; and I in- treat you. Sire, no longer to fancy that there is no living away from Court. Do not forget your friend : tell her eometimes, that you preserve for her an attachment which 304 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. constitutes the happiness of her life : often repeat the words ' I am happy ;* and be assured, that for her, the future will thus be peaceful, as the past has been stormy and sad." LXXX. . We have, in the life of Napoleon, briefly spoken of the rejoicings which attended the birth of the King of Rome. It is not only a duty, but a pleasure, to contemplate the conduct of Josephine at this period, which any but a magnanimous soul must have found so extremely trying. By couriers and telegraphic signals, the tidings of the birth of Napoleon's son flew to every quarter of France, and the most distant corner of the Empire of his father. Orders were received by the Prefect of Evreux, to celebrate the event ; but Napoleon (for it could not have been an over- sight,) had sent no messenger to Josephine. That great man w^as not great enough, to conceive how his divorced wife could be generous enough to mingle hers in the uni- versal congratulations. A young lady of rank, who was then a guest at Navarre, says in her account — " My affec- tion for Josephine was so boundless, that I suffered the intensest sorrow in thinking how great her grief must be. I knew, however, but imperfectly the grandeur of her soul or her absolute devotion to the happiness of Napoleon. I imagined there must remain in her enough of the common woman, to excite bitter regret, that she had not been the mother of the son so ardently desired. But I could not have made a greater mistake. Among all the joyous faces when the news came, Josephine's was more radiant than all. She expressed her great regret, at being so far from Paris — for at Malmaison, she could have received information overy half hour ; and she expressed her gratitude even, that the painfull Bacri-fice, she had made for France, was. likelj^ HER JOY ON THE BIRTH OF THE KING OF ROME. 305 now to be of service to her country. Josephine said the only tiling that made her sad was, that she had not been informed of the Emperor's happiness by him.self. But she said to us — ' Young ladies, we must have a fete to celebrate this auspicious event. I will give you a splendid ball ; so make your preparations. Get out my jewels. And as for you, gentlemen, I require that you now go into grande costumed " LXXXl. On the very night Josephine received the news, she wrote a letter to Napoleon, from which we extract a few lines : — "Sii^e, — While you are receiving felicitations from every corner of Europe, from all the cities of France, and the regiments of the army, can the feeble voice of a w^oman reach your ear, and will you deign to listen to her, who has so often consoled your sorrows, now when she speaks to you only of that happiness which must be so complete ? Having ceased to be your wife, dare I felicitate you on becoming a father? * * I should have desired to learn the birth of the King of Eome from yourself, and not from the echoes of the cannon of Evreux, or the courier of the Prefect. I know that your first attentions are due to the authorities of the State— to foreign ministers— to your family— and above all, to the fortunate Princess, who has realized your dearest hopes. Although she cannot love you better than T do, she has been enabled to consummate your hopes. I dare not depend on you. Sire, for circumstantial details of the great event which assures perpetuity to the name you have so nobly illustrated. Eugene and Hor tense will write me, and express their own satisfaction ; but it is from you that I desire to know if the child is well— if he looks like you— if I shall one day be allowed to see him— in a word, I expect from you unlimited confidence ; and I have some 306 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. claim on it, Sire, because of the boundless attachment I shall cherish for you as long as I live." The day after, Eugene set out to visit his mother — to give her all the details of this great event, upon which the desti- nies of the Empre seemed suspended. When he met his mother, he said, '• The Emperor instructed me when I left, in these words — * You are going to see your mother, Eu- gene ; tell her I am certain she will rejoice over my good fortune, more than anybody else. I would have written to her already, had I not been completely absorbed in the pleasure of looking at my son. I tear myself from him, only to attend to the most indispensable duties. This evening I will discharge the most delightful duty of all ; I will write to Josephine.' " LXXXII. Napoleon redeemed his pledge, and the evening after Eugene arrived at the chateau, the folding-doors were tlirown open with the announcement — " from the Emperor," and one of his own pages entered with a letter. After re- tiring to a private room for half an h-^ur, she returned, and showed it to her ladies of honor, and with a letter in one hand she said, " this for the Emperor,-' and presenting, in a small case, a jewel which cost five thousand francs, with the other, " this for yourself." To demonstrate how nobly Jo- sephine wished to act her difficult part, she wrote a long and generous letter to Maria Louisa, every word of which we would quote, if we could give the space. A single passage onl}^— " Madam, — While you were only the second wife of the Emperor, I deemed it becoming to maintain silence to your Majesty : but that reserve I think may now be laid aside, since you have '^9come mother to an heir of the Empiro. JOSEPHINE'S LETTER TO MARIA LOUISA. 307 (You might have had some difficulty in crediting the sincerity of one, whom perhaps you regarded as a rival ; but you will giv^e faith to the congratulations of a French woman, for you have bestowed a son upon France. Your amiability and sweetness of disposition have won for you the heart of the Emperor ; your benevolence merits for you the blessings of the unfortunate ; the birth of a son claims the benediction of all France. * * Under our kings the French were satis- fied with repose — now they demand glory. These, Madam, are the two blessings, the foretaste of which you have been called to give to France. She will enjoy them in perfection ander your son, if to the manly virtues of his Sire he join those of his august mother, by which they may be tempered." But Maria Louisa had not been munificently enough en- dowed by nature, even to understand the motives of Jo- sephine ; much less to act on such high and noble impulses. LXXXIII. We might prolong our sketches of this beguiling subject, for an entire volume ; but we must bring them to a close. The birth of an heir, which seemed for a time to place the seal of perpetuity upon the dynasty he had founded, cast but a transient glow over Napoleon's crumbling Empire. It was fast sinking in the waves of a counter revolution. Jo- sephine's suspense for the fate of the man she loved so well, was suddenly ended by the arrival of a letter from the Em- peror, at Fontainbleau, dated April 14, in which he says— 'My head and spirit are freed from an enormous weight. My fall is great, but at least it will be useful, as men say. In my retreat, I shall substitute the pen for the sword. The history of my reign will be curious. The world has yet seen me only in profile — I shall show myself in full. How many things I shall have to disclose. * * They have all be- 808 EMPRESS JOSEPHINi:. trayed me — yes, all. I except from this number, the good Eugene, so worthy of you and me. Adieu, my dear Jo- sephine. Be resigned as I am ; and ever remember him who never forgot, and never will forget you. " Farewell, Josephine. " Napoleon. " P. S. I expect to hear from you at Elba. I am not very well." It is not strange that the ancient pliilosophers, without the guidance of inspired light, when they watched the ebb and flow of empires and their chieftains, (if antiquity fur- nished- anything like this), should have said, " the gods are just." In all history, we know of no spectacle more touch- ing than the sight of this dethroned Emperor, sending his wayward but stricken heart to Malmaison, when he had been deserted by his proud Hapsburg Princess, in whose union he fondly dreamed of giving endurance to his empire. " I cannot stay here," exclaimed Josephine in grief and consternation, when she learned that Napoleon had fallen " My presence now is necessary to the Emperor. Maria Louisa ought to be there, but she has fled. Now I can resume my old place — the Emperor is alone, forsaken — I at least will not abandon him. He could dispense. Avith me while he was happy ; but now I know he expects me." This she said to Beaumont, her chamberlain ; but after a moment's hesitation, she continued — '^I may interfere with his arrangements. You will remain with me. till intelli- gence is received from the Allied Sovereigns — the}^ cannot but, respect her who was once the wife of Napoleon." We should have remarked that Josephine had hastened to Paris the moment she heard of the advance of the allied armies ; and now she was prepared for any emergency. They entered Paris ; and the Emperor Alexander immediately sent a re- HER DESIRE TO JOIN NAPOLEON AT ELBA. 8C9 quest to Josephine, that she would " retire for safety to ^lalnjaison, where her person and her fortune sliould be respected." She did ; and, although few demonstrations of respect to Napoleon's genius or feelings were shown by the Allies, while Paris lay at the feet of the Cossacks, still Josephine's person and fortunes u-ere sacredly respected. Lxxxiy. Josephine again returned to Malmaison, and it was fre- quented by the most illustrious of the allied princes and chieftains. The Emperor of Russia was one of the first visitors. " Madame," he said, " I was impatient to behold you. From the moment I crossed the frontier of France, I have heard benedictions on your name. In the cottage, and in the palace, I have listened to many accounts of your angelic goodness ; and I am proud to have the pleasure of presenting to your Majesty the universal hcmage of which I am the bearer." Even the Bourbons themselves were com- pelled to pay some tributes of respect to this unparalleled woman ; and old Louis not only received her children with kindness, but requested that Josephine might be presented at his Court. LXXXV. Nothing, however, could diminish her affection for Napo- leon, nor her sympathy for him,Jn the mjdst of his tremen- dous misfortunes. Again she wrote to him at Elba, and said — "Sire, — Now only can I calculate the whole extent of the misfortune of having beheld my union with you dis- solved by law ; now do I indeed lament that I am no more than your friend — that I can only mourn over so great a misfortune. It is not the loss of a throne that I sorrow for, on your account, for I km w how such a loss can be endured ; 310 EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE. but my heart sinks at the grief you must have felt in sepa« rating from the veteran companions of your glory. * * You will also have to mourn over the ingratitude and de« sertion of friends, on whom you thought you could rely Ah! Sire, why cannot I fly to you? I have been on the point of quitting France to follow your footsteps, and conse- crate to you the remainder of the life which you so lon^^ embellished. One motive alone restrains me, and that yoi; can divine. If you tell me, however, that contrary to all appearances, I am the only one who will fulfill her duty, nothing shall stop me, and I will go to the only place on the earth where I can hereafter be happy, and console you in the midst of your desolation. Say but the word, and I depart. Adieu, Sire ! Whatever I would add would still be too little. It is no longer by words, that my sentiments for you are to be proved ; and for actions, your consent is neces- sary. Malmaison has been respected ; I am therefore sur- rounded with attentions by foreign sovereigns, but I had much rather not remain." LXXXVI. But the troubled scenes Josephine had been called to pass through, had finally broken the gossamer web of her ethe- real life, and the dark wing of death began to cast its shadow over the beloved Empress. One circumstance which should not be forgotten, had not a little to do in quenching the light of her glorious life. With the same unutterable meanness and dishonesty, with which the restored Bourbons bad withheld the pittance they had promised to Napoleon, they now denied to Josephine the pension they had pledged themselves to pay, and having expended with the mosl generous liberality her income for the good of others, she now found herself in great embarrassment. If there were HER LAST ILLNESS. 811 an obligation that a Bourbon would hold sacred, it would seem that it should have been this. But Heaven put the stamp of plebiai^ meanness upon that race when he made them, and nothing can wipe it out. They have generally been, in all countries and in all periods, cowardly, and perfidious men. Josephine could not endure this last mortification. She saw that her life would soon end, and having estates which she wished to dispose of, in a manner that would be gratifying to the feelings of Napoleon, she made her will, and sent a draft of it to him at Elba. ** Make your remarks. Sire," she said ; " you cannot doubt they will be held sacred by me, or that I rejoice in this opportunity of showing my devotion at a time when all others have deserted you." But if the draft was ever returned, it came too late, and the remorseless grasp of the greedy Bourbons, seized upon her property, and left her loved retainers, whom she had intended to reward, helpless and destitute on the world. But slow as the years went by, there was at that hour an exiled boy, the grandson of Josephine, who was at a later day to hold this same bitter chalice to the lips of the Bourbons. LXXXVII. On the 4th of May, Josephine dined at St. Leu, with her children and the Emperor of Russia. On returning to Malmaison, she experienced some symptoms of illness which alarmed her friends. But she rallied once more, and six days later, Alexander dined with her at her own chateau. The next day, Josephine was worse ; but her resolution still held out, and as late as the 24th of the month, she again en- tertained the Emperor of Russia, and King of Prussia, with their suites. But she was obliged to leave the banquet-hall, and Hortense took her seat at the table. The next morning, her disease, which was an acute inflammation of the throat, 312 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. manifested such alarming symptoms, that during a visit from Alexander, he requested permission to send his own phy- sician to attend her. Thit, however, was declined. She was surrounded by the most eminent medical men in France, and whatever human skill could do for her, was done. She knew that she was in danger, and she was certain that she could not live long ; but she preserved her cheerfulness until the last moment; and even on the 27th, when Re- doubte, the celebrated flower-painter, came to draw two favorite exotics, that had just bloomed, she was silent for a moment, and, then waved him away, saying, " You must not catch my sore throat, for next' week I hope to see you ad- vanced in one of your superb master-pieces." At ten o'clock, on the morning of the 28th, ihe physicians rose from their council, and decided that it was their duty to inform Eugene and Hortense, that their mother was dying. They heard the announcement with unutterable grief; but Josephine received it from their lips, with the most sublime resigna- tion. She sent for the parish clergyman of Ruel,'who was the preceptor of her grand-children, to administer to her the last consolations of the Christian faith. Late on the same evening, the Emperor Alexander arrived, and was admitted to the chamber of the sufferer. Eugene and Hortense were kneeling by the bed-side. Josephine rallied her last strength, and beckoned to them all to approach. " At least," she faintly pronounced, " I shall die regretted — T have always desired the happiness, of France — ^^I did all I could to contribute to it — and I can say with truth to you all, in my last moments, that the first wife of Napoleon, never caused a tear to fall." A radiant glory overspread her beautiful features, as she gently glided away to the land of peace. She still breathed, till the following morning — her slumber being disturbed only by sighs so gentle they Josephine's fuxeral. 313 scarcely indicated pain — when her spirit left the world forever. "• Every preparation Avhich affection or respect could dic- tate, was now made for the last scenes her ashes were to witness on earth. At five o'clock in the afternoon of the 2d of June, 1814, the body, which had been embalmed, and been visited while it lay in state by upwards of twenty thousand of the people of France, was followed to the grave by a procession of two thousand of the poor, who had lived on her bounty, and cherished her memory now that she was dead, and then consigned to its final repose in the humble village church of Ruel. To obtain even the favor of sleep- ing within the sacred inclosures of a consecrated church, had required the interposition of the most powerful person- ages of Europe ; for the last insult the Bourbons dared to offer to this peerless and glorious woman, was to deny her a Christian burial. But what " the most Catholic" tyrant of France would not grant, a Cossack Emperor demanded. The road to the church was lined by the Russian hussars, with the Old Guards of Napoleon, princes and marshals, and rows of soldiers marched with the procession, and showed every token of respect to the illustrious dead. The funeral oration was pronounced by the Archbishop of Tours ; and while the prayers were being read, and the angelic virtues of the deceased were being recounted by the orator, some of Napoleon's worn and scarred veterans were melted to tears. Poor Queen Hortense, who could not endure tho sight, had been conveyed to one of the side chapels ; and when the ceremonies Avere over, and the coffin had been laid in the grave, and the church was deserted, she turned, and heard the step of her brother, the Viceroy of Italy. 'J hey met. and knelt in tears over the ashes of their mother. Soon after, with filial affection, thev asked from the Eour- 814 EllPRESS JOSEPHINE. l)ons what even the Bourbons could not deny — the privilege of erecting a memorial over the grave which jDore the simple inscription — Eugene and Hortensb TO Josephine. And thither, for a generation, have the brave and the good gone, as to a shrine of pious and generous meditation — • and for ages to come, the spot will be sacred to all the brave and the good. «00K IV . MAEIA LOUISA. Bom at Vienna, December 12, ±791 ; Died at Parma, De- cember 15, 1847. MARIA LOUISA. msk MARIA LOUISA. I. The patli of History leads us from the grave of JosepL.ne, ia the little church of Ruel, to the Imperial Palace of Vienna, •where Maria Louisa, the successor of Josephine, was born. Whatever we deem nocassary to record of her history can be very briefly stated. Preceding portions of this work will already have prepared the reader for a record of little interest, so far as Maria Louisa was concerned, in the for- tunes of Napoleon. She was the eldest daughter of Francis 11. , Emperor of Austria, and Maria Theresa, daughter of Ferdinand I Y., King of Naples. She was descended from Henry IV., King of France, through Phillip, Duke of Or- leans, second son of Louis XIIL, and Elizabeth of Orleans, who married Leopold, Duke of Lorraine. She was educated with all the care which the Hapsburg House have been accustomed to bestow upon their children. At an early age she had made great progress in painting, music, and other accomplishments, and at the time of her marriage she was conversant with several foreign languages. n. Her portrait at this period is drawn by Benjamin Con- tant, in the following words : — " The Empress Maria Louisa was nineteen years of age when she married Napoleon. Her hair was of a light color, her eyes blue and expressive, her walk noble, and her figure imposing. Her hands and feet were beautifully formed, and might have served for 318 MARIA LOUISA. models. Healtli}' hues and a florid complexion were joined to great timidity ; the latter occasioned the Empress to appear haughty before the ladies of the court, but in private she was amiable and even affectionate." When the union with Nanoleon was proposed to her, she manifested the most decided repugnance, and said that she considered herself a " victim devoted to the Minotaur ;" — but she yielded passive obedience to the wishes of her family and the commands of her father. Alexander of Russia had shown so much par- tiality for Napoleon, and had, in fact, conceived so romantic an attachment for the young Conqueror, that the latter had first opened negotiations with Alexander's sister, though she had not yet attained the age of womanhood. The Empress- mother had, however, interposed several objections. She insisted that her daughter should have a chapel in Paris, where the services and ceremonies of the Greek Church should be celebrated by Greek priests. The negotiation was thus for a considerable period prolonged, and Napoleon at last growing weary of those " peurile conditions," as he termed them, and half-suspecting that the obstacles inter- posed were owing to some secret objections against the union, finally fixed a period of ten days, at the end of which, if a favorable answer were not returned, he should end the negotiation. When the ten days had passed, he instructed Maret, Minister of Foreign Affairs, to sound Prince Schwgirtz- enburg, the Austrian Ambassador, on a union with a Prin cess of the House of Hapsburg-Lorraine. The advances of Napoleon were eagerly met by the Austrian Minister, and the preliminaries so quickly settled, that the marriage-con tract was signed at Paris the Tth and at Vienna the 16th of February, [1810]. On the 11th of March— less than a month afterwards — the marriage was celebrated at Vienna with great pomp. Marshal Berthier acting for Napoleon, JOURNEY OF MARIA LOUISA TO PARIS. 319 deman led the hand of the Archduchess, and the Archduke Charles, her uncle, stood as proxy for Napoleon. III. The ceremonies preliminary to the final marriage, were celebrated at Vienna with the greatest splendor the Empire could give — the departure of the Princess for the Capital of France being arranged for the following day. She was to proceed to Braunau on the frontiers of Austria and Bavaria, and there await the escort which Napoleon was to provide. So too, the ladies of honor, who had been sent forward from Paris, with the French Chevalier, Marshal Berthier — a mag- nificent retinue waited to receive her. This ceremony took place in a small house, which had been built for the occasion, near the spot. It was divided into three apartments — the Austrian, the French, and one between called the Neutral Room. The G-rand Duchess arrived at Althiem — a village near by, on the morning of the 16th of March ; where the French escort had already arrived. The delicate, but ex- tremely stiff formalities of this- occasion had been honored by the graces and charms of Caroline, the Queen of Naples, (Napoleon's sister, and Murat's wife), the Duchess of Monti- bello, the Countesses of Montmartre, Boueille, Lucay, and Montmorenci, the Bishop of Metz, the Count Beauharnais, the Chevalier of Honor, the Prince Borghese, and a vast number of other personages, for whose fame in the achieve- ments of the Empire, or for their high position or elegance of manner. Napoleon had chosen, to embellish the occasion. IV. Hazlitt, who has written so charming a life of Napoleon, relates an incident which happened at the time ; and as it is reallj one of the most important events that ever occurrea 820 MARIA LOUISA. ill the liisLorj of Maria Loiiiya, we feel bound to speak of it, for we have with some perseverance surveyed a very liberal ran^e of French, English, German, Spanish and Italian literature, without being able to discover anything of the slightest importance to mankind or the history of the times in the life of this Imperial personage. Monsieur de Beauset, the Prefect of Napoleon's palace, seems to have been, from all accounts, very ready and anxious to oblige everybody he could. As a matter of course, the French escort were eager to set their eyes upon the Archduchess ; and it will never be doubted by our readers, or anybody else, that the beautiful and brilliant women of the French Court, in that cortege, were dying with curiosity to catch a glimpse of the youthful sovereign who was soon to preside over the courtly scenes of the Napo- leon Empire. Therefore, the good Beauset bored a number of holes in the thin wooden partition, that separated them from the Austrian Court, where Maria Louisa, in her unconscious beauty, was standing on the throne prepared for her, going through the ceremonies, to which she was carefully trained, as danseurs are before they appear on the boards of the Opera. Hazlitt says, that " Her person was tall and graayeful, her hair flaxen, her eyes blue, expressive of happiness and innocence, and her whole visage proved the goodness of her disposition. She had on a robe of gold tissue, ornamented with rich flowers, and around her neck the miniature picture of Napoleon, encircled with diamonds, of immense value. She was surrounded by the highest persons of her Court, ranged on her right and left, according to their rank, and by the Hungarian officers, in their rich and handsome uniform." So much for the first sight of this personage, as related to us on the authority of Mr. Hazlitt, which we pre- sume was obtained directly from those who had the honor INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY. 321 of holding their eyes to the auger-holes made in the partition that separated the Archduchess from the impatient dames of the Imperial Court of the Empire of Napoleon. It was well, perhaps, since Napoleon divorced Josephine and espoused the past, with the souvenirs of the Middle Ages, to mimic the etiquette of the courts of those little tyrants that had flourished for so many generations ; and consequently — since, whenever he attempted to do anything he did it thoroughly — we are not surprised that he should have drawn up beforehand instructions for all the details of the journey of the Archduchess from Vienna to Paris, with as much care as if he had been marking out the campaign of Russia. These instructions of the Emperor extend over a conside-^ rable number of pages, and to each movement of the Arch- duchess he seemed to attach as much importance, as to a charge by Ney or Lannes at the battle of Austerlitz. The ceremonial, however, was complied with as prescribed, with the same fidelity as all the other orders of Napoleon. When the Archduchess arrived at Braunau, and the cortege was preparing to advance over the French frontier, she ex- changed her German dress for one in the French fashion — received the oath of fidelity from all her attendants — dined with the Queen of Naples and Madame Lazanski — received the last farewell of the personages of the Court of Vienna, and set out for Munich. Here, from sheer indisposition even to take the trouble of tracing the progress of this imperial cortege, we shall allow Mr. Hazlitt, who has finished up every detail of it with the care of a miniature painter, to speak :— " She was met by the Baron St. Aignan, equerry to Napoleon, who brought her a letter from the S22 MARIA LOUISA. Emperor. At Municli she was obliged to part with the Countess Lazansld, who had been her governess, and to whom she was much attached. So many mischiefs had arisen from allowing early advisers to accompany youthful princesses into foreign countries — that the practice was given up as dangerous. On setting her foot on the soil of France the Empress was hailed as the Aurora of a brighter day, of a new age of gold. At Strasbourg she was met by a page of the Emperor, who brought a letter, the choicest flowers of the season, and some pheasants of his own shoot- ing." [We never had heard before that his fire-arms had ever been used for such harmless purposes.] VI. The cavalcade passed through Nancy, Yittoire, Chalons, and Rhiems, and were to have stopped at Soissons for the night, according to a formula fairly penned, and exactly setting down the interview for the morrow. But the impa- tience of Napoleon, who was growing as amorous as a boy of fifteen, disconcerted all his own fine schemes, and cut short the ceremony. The escort was ordered to Compiegne ; and. Napoleon, putting on his gray-coat and stealing out of the park gate, with the King of Naples, hastened to meet his betrothed bride. He passed through Soissons, and as the carriage in which Maria Lonisa was, drew up to change horses at the village of Courcelles, he flew to the coach door, opened it himself, and the Queen of Naples saying " It is the Emperor," he threw himself on the Empress's neck, who was unprepared for this abrupt and romantic meeting, and the carriage was ordered on with all speed to Compiegne, where it arrived at ten the same evening. The rejoicings and congratulations on her arrival were univer- sal ; the city of Paris made costly presents to the Emperor FF^ AfEETTVG WITH NAPOLEON. 328 and Empress ; the procession at the public marriage, passed from St. Cloud to the Tuilleries, and through the great gal- lery of the Louvre, which was lined on each side with a triple 1 ow of all that was most distinguished in France, or nearly in Europe. On the 27th of April, the Emperor and Empress set out on a tour through the northern Departments to give the good city of Paris time to breathe. Dances, garlands of flowers, triumphal arches welcomed them all the way. On one of these last, at a small hamlet [to show how easily enthusiasm runs up into superstition,] was inscribed in front, Pater JYoster ; and on the reverse side, Ave Maria, plena gratw ! The curate and mayor of so loyal and pious a village did not of course go empty-handed away. VI. Maria Louisa, it was stated, on good authority, was far from being displeased with the demonstrations of impetuous love which the Hero of Marengo had displayed in the car- riage, and her only reproof was, " The portrait of your Majesty, which was given to me, does you justice by no means." A pretty little incident, however, happened when the Empress entered the Palace of the Tuilleries. As Ber- thier, the Imperial Commissioner, entered her apartment, to conduct her to the carriage which was to bear her to France, he found her bathed in tears. " My conduct may seem childish," she said, " but this must be my excuse ;" and, pointing to the various articles of art and taste which adorned her apartment, her birds and dog, she spoke of them as the cherished tokens of love from her different friends. This hint was enough for any man that Napoleon would confide such a commission as that to ; and, conse- quently, when her husband received her in the court-yard of the Tuilleries, and conducted her through a dark passage, 824 MARIA LOUISA. lighted only by a single lamp, and slie said, " Where are you going V^ " Come, come," was the Emperor's reply ; " certainly, you are not afraid to follow me !" At the end of the corridor, the Emperor threw open a cabinet. The blaze of light dazzled her, but when she recovered, she found herself in a room fitted up in the same .style, with the very articles of furniture she had left in tears at Vienna. Even the poodle-dog was there, to greet its regal mistress, with a joyous bark. Overcome with pleasure and gratitude she threw herself into Napoleon's arms ; and she often remarked that it was the happiest moment of her life. On the first of April, amidst the most enthusiastic re- joicings of the nation, the civil marriage took place, and the next day Cardinal Fesch, with all the pomp and splen- dor of the Roman Church, gave the benediction to the Im- perial pair. The train of Maria Louisa was borne by four Queens. All the Great Dignitaries of state were present. The Marshals of the Empire in their glittering uniforms, the ladies of the Court superbly attired, their beauty enhanced by the most artistic skill in dress ; with the gorgeous habiliaments of the priesthood, rendered the pageant one of the most imposing, as well as the coldest spectacle Na- poleon himself had witnessed since the passage of the Great St. Bernard. VII. Napoleon endeavored to impress upon the mind of Maria Louisa something of the grandeur of his Empire, by the sight of his public works then in progress. Halting at Cherbourg, he showed her the great dock just completed, capable of holding fifty of the largest ships of the line, and her foot was the last to press their foundations befor^ PAULINE BONAPARTE. 4Y1 W(?rds passed between them. At lengtli, Napoleon left the room, exclaiming — " This is intolerable ! You are abso- lutely a caricature of the Duchess du Maine." IV. MARIA PAULINE— PRINCESS BORGHESE. Bora at Ajaccio, October 20, 1780— Died at Florence, June 9, 1825. Pauline was born twelve years after her brother Napo- leon. When the family were compelled to fly from Corsica, she was yet a little girl. From her childhood, however, she was regarded as extremely beautiful. Napoleon loved her better than either of his sisters, and although she was way- ward, coquettish, frivolous, and vain, she was always fasci- nating in her manner, elegant in her accomplishments, ex- quisite in her taste, and the world has long known that Canova chose her as the most peerless model of beauty in face and form, in all Europe. After the exile of the family to Marseilles, she was very much admired and caressed by the officers of the government and others who saw her, and she received the most brilliant offers of marriage from persons of distinction, although the family had at that time none of the means of luxury, and were deprived even of many of the comforts of life. In 1801, Pauline married General Le Clerc. He was a man of brilliant genius, and would doubtless have adorned the most splendid period of Napoleon's Empire. Imme- diately after the marriage, he received command of the French army in Portugal, and was subsequently intrusted with the expedition to St. Domingo. His wife accompanied him on the voyage. He was unfortunate in the expedition, and fell a victim to the climate. Pauline at once prepared 472 MARIA PAULINE. to return to France, and having with a pardonable precau- tion deposited her treasures in the triple coffin which car- ried her husband to his native country, she sailed for France. She fortunately escaped the hazards which attended almost every maritime expedition of her country at that time, and the suddenness with which she merged in the voluptuous pleasures of the Capital, and the gayety she displayed, gave just reason for the remark which has frequently been made, that the marriage was doubtless one of convenience, and that she had never been much attached to her husband. Two years later, [Nov. 1803], she contracted an alliance with Prince Borghese, a man of great elegance and wealth. Descended from one of the proudest Italian families which had flourished for many centuries, and held the highest stations in the state, the proprietor of one of the most mag- nificent villas in the neighborhood of Rome, and the pos- sessor of perhaps the richest private Gallery of Art in Europe, with an income of $250,000 a year from his own estates and a dowry of $2,500,000 with his young wife, and the revenues of Guastalla and Piacenza, it was regarded as not only a proper, but decidedly the most brilliant matri- monial alliance that was formed during the entire ascend- ency of Napoleon. The marriage took place in Paris, with every circumstance of pomp and splendor ; and from the moment the wedded pair started, till their greeting in the halls of the ancestors of the Prince Borghese, every league of the journey was like a triumphal progress. For a great distance, Pauline was attended by a guard of honor sent by her brother, and as the sister of Napoleon, and the wife of the most distinguished Prince in Italy, she received royal honors at every town and village. CHARACTER AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF PAULINE. 473 Pauline was the idol of the brilliant circle that now- gathered around her, and she must have been a woman of almost superhuman virtue, judgment and discretion, to have resisted with entire success the fascinations that played around every step. With nothing left on earth to sigh for, that opulence, station, beauty, health and accomplishments of every nature could command ; warm-hearted and gene- rous, sensitive and vain, her heart after all, constituted the only field for adventure and the only scene for conquest. Her husband was somewhat indolent in his disposition ; and, like indolent men, was jealous. of the activity of others. His wife was regarded as the most beautiful woman in Europe ; and, although his jealousy was doubtless inflamed by many an lago, and multitudes of writers have re-echoed the scandals that were spread at the time, no satisfactory evidence has ever been adduced in any quarter that Pauline was not a virtuous woman. Those who were mainly instru- mental in originating and circulating these slanders at the time about her, were the very persons who had endeavored to load the name of Josephine with obloquy. Still Pauline's manners, like those of other women who far excel the rest of their sex in personal charms, were more winning and fas- cinating than ugliness ever learns to display. Those who saw her could not withhold their admiration ; and when gallant and handsome men extended this homage to adora- tion, like many other beautiful women, she could not escape it. But the blood of Madame Mere was in her veins ; and the Bonapartes, especially the women of that family, have always been too proud and haughty to degrade themselves. Even had they lacked what is technically called " moral character,'' their virtue has been intrenched behind their ancestry, and the achievements of their own family. Nor was there at any time an instant when any one of the Bona 474 MAETA PAULINE. partes could have overstepped, by a hair's breadth, th(3 line of decency, without being fatally exposed. None of them pursued the noiseless tenor of their way along the vale of obscurity. They were walking in the clear sunshine, on the topmost summits of the earth, and millions of enemies were watching every step they took. The highest genius of historians, the bitterest satire of dramatists, the meanest and most malignant pens of the journalists, have assailed them for more than half a century ; and yet the Republican who dares to lift the veil from the domestic life of the fami- lies of the old dynasties of Europe, is branded as a slanderer. A recent instance in point — vide the attacks upon Lord Holland for a few glimpses he has afforded us of the morals of the European courts. We have written these words because a Republican is the only man likely to speak well, even of the good things of the Bonaparte family. It was, and is, and will be the dy- nasty of the people — standing there, from 1804, a fearful antagonism against the feudal age, and its souvenirs of op- pression and crime. VI. Pauline was doubtless imperious ; and it would have been a miracle if she had been always a gentle and submissive wife. A separation was finally agreed on, and the haughty and beautiful Princess returned to Paris. She divided her time between the Tuilleries and the elegant chateau of Neuilly. She sometimes presumed on the favor and affection of her brother ; and he indulged her in all her caprices, and gave his homage even to her fascinations ; but whenever she laid her tapered finger upon the lowest wheel of his imperial administration, he rebuked her with the sternness and ferocity of a lion. The profligate Fouche, who played the part of political scavenger to kings, queens, reigns, PAULINE BAXISHED FROM THE COURT. 475 and revolutions, till his gray locks ^'ent down in infamy to the grave, wrote a book called his " Memoires.^^ It is filled with lies which nobody ever believed, and it finally divested him of the reputation he had long enjoyed, of being the " cleverest '' man in Europe. Fouche wrote so many impro- bable lies in his book, that even his truths were rejected. Sir Walter Scott, who has never been accused of eulogizing Napoleon or any of the Bonaparte family, in reply to an odious story started by Fouche about Pauline and her brother, says — " The gross and guilty enormities of the ancient Roman Emperors do not belong to the character of Bonaparte, though foul aspersions have been cast upon him, by those who were willing to represent him as in all re- spects a counterpart of Tiberius and Caligula." YII. The marriage of Napoleon with Maria Louisa interfered somewhat with the reign of Pauline in the world of taste, fashion, and beauty. After the divorce of Josephine, she had been the central star of the Court. On the arrival of the Archduchess of Austria, Pauline's light paled befoi-e the imperial majesty of the new Empress. She withdrew from the court, and when she was presented to Maria Louisa at Brussels, she impertinently made some gesture, behind the Empress's back, in derision of the Autrichienne. A tittering which could not be suppressed, went round the saloon. Napoleon himself had been looking on Pauline, and thus detected her in the act. The next morning she received a peremptory order which banished her from the court. She retired to Rome in exile and disgrace, where she remained in one of the palaces of her husband, still the centre of a brilliant circle, till the retirement of her brother to Elba. We observe one curious circumstance in the his- 4.76 MARIA PAULINE. tory of each of the brothers and sisters of Napoleon — even those with whom he had differed most, those who had injured him, and whom he had insulted, all forgave and forgot their injuries and animosities when he was hurled from the sublimity of his throne to the depth of his exile. Pauline, too, flew to France, and saw her brother just before his retirement to Elba ; and in October, with thre« of her maids of honor, she sailed for Elba in the Empe- ror's vessel of war sent for her to Naples. Napoleon received her with every mark of affection — had a little boudoir built for her in the garden, where she gave her balls and concerts. Pauline was one of the principle confi- dants of the Emperor when he was meditating his return to France. It is not a small compliment to her talents, that he confided to her one of the most important parts of that strange and difficult drama. She had placed most of her fortune and nearly all her private jewels at his disposal ; and so well did she play her part, that even on the very night of the escape from Elba, she entertained a large com- pany at a soiree, with the same thoughtless gayety and ele- gant nonchalance which had characterized her lightest and most thoughtless days. YIII. The Reign of the Hundred Days was ended — ^Napoleon had been long in exile on the Rock of St. Helena. In July 1821, when Pauline had received intelligence that the Em.pe ror's life was drawing to a close, she wrote an earnest appea to the Earl of Liverpool, then Prime Minister of the Britisli Government, in which she says — " The malady by which tl e Emperor is attacked, will prove mortal, at St. Helena. In the name of all the members of the family, I ask for a change of climate. If so reasonable a request be denied, it will be HER LETTER TO THE EARL OF LIVERPOOL. 477 a sentence of death pronounced on him — In which case, I beg permission to depart for St. Helena, to join my brother, and receive his parting breath. I know that the moments of his life are numbered, and I should eternally reproach myself if I did not use all the means in my power, to assuage the sufferings of his last hours, and prove my devotion to him." Lord Liverpool granted the request in a letter which will always be cited to his honor. But the permission, arrived too late — Napoleon was dead. After this period, Pauline kept up her establishment at Rome, with great splendor, in the Borghese palace — her husband choosing to reside at Florence. She spent a por- tion of the year in the Yilla Paolina, a beautiful palace within the city of Rome. Her residences were marked by an unprecedented degree of elegance, refinement and hos- pitality. Besides all the entertainments, she gave on a larger scale, for her circles of private friends she held con- certs and soirees every week. The latter were attended l)y the chief personages of Rome — among others there was always seen a large number of Cardinals ; her uncle, Car- dinal Fesch, being, from the relationship, as much at home there as in his own palace. IX. Madame Junot, who knew her intimately, thus draws her portrait : — " Many people have extolled her beauty ; this is known from portraits, and even statues of her : still it is impossible to form any idea of what this lady — truly ex- traordinary as the perfection of her beauty — then was, be- cause she was not generally known till her return from St. Domingo, when she was already faded, and nothing but the shadow of that exquisitely beautiful Pauline, whom we some- times admired, as we do a fine statue of Venus, or Galatea.'^ 478 CAROLIXA-MARIA-ANNONCIADA. Pauline always dressed in more exquisite taste than any woman in France, except Josephine. And as we wish to convey to our readers some exact idea of her classic beauty, we will give a brief description of her appearance at a ball in the house of Madame Permon, the mother of the Duchess D'Abr antes, who says — " Her head-dress consisted of bande- lettes, (of a very soft kind of fur, of a tiger pattern), sur- mounted by bunches of grapes in gold. She was a faithful copy of a Bacchante, such as are seen in antique statues or cameos — the form of her head, and the classic regularity of her features emboldened her to attempt an imitation which would have been hazardous in most women. Her robe, of exquisitely fine India muslin, had a deep bordering of gold — the pattern was of grapes and vine-leaves. With this she wore a tunic of the purest Greek form, with a bordering similar to her dress, which displayed her fine figure to ad- mirable advantage. This tunic was confined on the shoulders by cameos of great value. The sleeve.s, w|iich were very short, were lightly gathered on small b^nds, which were also fastened with cameos. Her girdle, which was placed below the bosom, as is seen in the Greek statues, consisted of a gold band, the clasp of which was a superbly cut antique stone — Her entrance seemed absolutely to illumine the room." X. CAEOLINE-MARIA-ANNONCIADA— QUEEN OF NAPLES. Born at Ajaccio, March 26, 1782— Died at Florence, May 18, 1839. Caroline, Napoleon's youngest sister, was still a child when her brother became chief of the French nation. Her sisters had known adversity — she found herself in the midst CAROLIXE BOXAPAETE. HER MARRIAGE WITH MURAT. 47& of luxury and splendor, tlie first moment she entered society. Madame Junot says of lier, at this time — " Caroline Bona- parte was a very pretty girl, fresh as a rose — not to be compared, for the regular beauty of her features, to Pau- line, though more pleasing perhaps by the expression of her countenance and the brilliancy of her complexion, but by no means possessing the perfection of figure which distinguished her elder sister. Her head was dispropor- tionately large, her bust was too short, her shoulders were too round ; but her hands and her arms were models, and her skin resembled white satin seen through pink glass ; her teeth were fine, as were those of all the Bonapartes ; her hair was light. As a young girl, Caroline was charm- ing. When her mother brought her to Paris, in 1798, her beauty was all in its rosy freshness. Magnificence did not become her — brocade did not hang well on her figure, and one feared to see her delicate complexion fade under the weight of diamonds and rubies.'' She was a companion of Hortense at Madame Campan's, where she acquired every elegant accomplishment. XI." On the return of the First Consul from Egypt, he in- tended to marry his sister Caroline to Moreau, and at one time he had designed her hand for Augereau. But she was passionately in love with Murat, who being also enamored cf her, their mutual request was immediately granted by Napoleon, and their marriage took place in January, 1800. It was in the month of October of the same year, that the plot of the Infernal Machine was carried into execution. On this occasion, Caroline nearly lost her life. She was on her way to the opera, near the carriage of Napoleon and Josephine. Every glass in her carriage was shattered, and 480 CAEOLTXA-MARIA-ANNOXCIADA. the sliock she suffered was so great, that her child, who was born soon after, suffered for a long time with epileptic attacks and a feeble constitution. Five years later, Caro- line was create"! Grand Duchess of Berg, and two years afterwards she became Queen of Naples. XII. During the eight years she sat on that throne, she managed to win the affections of her people ; and as she was fond of magnificence and display, and distinguished for great generosity, she was one of the most popular princesses in Europe. She made frequent journeys to Paris where she lived in a style of splendor worthy of the most brilliant queens. In the sketch of Murat, we shall speak of her Nea- politan life more in detail. As might very naturally be supposed, Caroline took sides with her brother in his dif- ferences with Murat ; and things went so far that at least a separation seemed likely to take place. It would- proba- bly have been effected at a later period, had not a melan- choly fate deprived her beforehand of her husband. But they seemed to have been after all sincerely attached to oue another, and even as late as the Battle of Dresden, we find Caroline addressing to her husband the' following letter :— " Sire, — Your letters respecting the brilliant Battle of Dresden, in which you took so glorious a part, reached me just as I was going to take the little voyage I had projected in the gulf; and it was amid the thunder of the cannon which you directed to be fired, that I went on board, re joicing in your success, and still more rejoicing at finding myself free from all uneasiness respecting 3"our health. " According to your instructions, I havr. ordered Te Deum to be performed. I send your Majesty the proceedings of THE LOSS OF HER CROWX. 481 administration, together with the ordinary statements and reports, and some particular demands, on which it will be for 3'ou to determine. I annex to these, three reports of the intendant-general. * * The prince-royal set off day be- fore yesterday to make the circuit of the bay, on the same Tcssel — he returned quite enchanted. The princesses are to go to-morrow, with Lucien for their beau. " I don't know whether you receive my letters, but I write to you very often. Everything is perfectly calm and tranquil, and I hope you will be so too. I have ordered Camponelle to send yo-u everything you may stand in need of, and told him to get some woolen hosiery, which will be very comfortable to you in traveling. I send a box of liquorice for the Emperor. Present my respects to him. Adieu, my friend ; take care of yourself, I beg you, and think of us. I embrace you as I love you. " Caroline." XIII. In the month of March, 1815, when the reverses of Napo- leon's arms and the advance of the Austrian army into the kingdom of Naples, drove Murat from his kingdom, Caro- line displayed great decision of character ; and her conduct at the trying period, when she lost her crown and went into exile, has elicited the praises of all contemporaneous histo- i-ians. Naples was filled with alarm. Dressing herself in the uniform of the National Guards, and mounting a spirited horse, she reviewed the troops and addressed them in a style which would have done no discredit to a conqueror on the eve of battle. She was on horseback more than six hours during the last day of her reign, and it was only at the final moment, when all hope was gone, that she gave herself up to the English Naval Commander, and went on board his vessel with her children. She had been assured a free pas- 482 CAROLINA-MARIA-AXXOXCIADA. sage to France with her suite by the English Commodore ; but this pledge was also broken — of course, under the specious pretext that the commander had exceeded his instructions. Disgusted at the outrage, she abandoned the protection of the English flag, and threw herself into the hands of the Austrians. Assuming the title of Countess of Lipano, she took up her residence in the dominions of the Austrian Emperor, with an engagement not to return to France or Italy without express permission. She obtained leave in 1830, when her venera- ble mother was supposed to be near her death, to proceed to Rome on a visit for a month. When the time was up, she returned again to her Austrian residence, but soon took up her abode in Florence, where she died in 1839. A single word on the character of Caroline. She was perhaps more imperious and petulant than any of her sisters, not even excepting Pauline. When the Imperial Crown was put upon the head of Napoleon, his sisters all wanted to be made queens. Joseph, being the first of the brothers raised to a throne, his sisters found it very hard to address his wife as " Your Majesty," and they complained to him, that he had treated the wife of his brother with more favor than he had even his own sisters. " To hear your com- plaints," said Napoleon, " one would suppose that I had robbed you of your succession to the late king, your father." But Caroline was an estimable woman, a good wife, a kind mother, a generous sister, and a noble queen. EUaENE— VICEROY OF EaYPT. EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. Bom in Brittany, September 3, 1780-— Died at Munich, January 21, 1824. I. Among the sliining names in the galaxy of the Beauhar- nais family, stands conspicuous the name of Eugene, son of Yiscount Alexander and Josephine Beauharnais. In all the vicissitudes of his eventful life, as a son and brother, dutiful and affectionate ; as an adopted son and recipient of favor, grateful and true ; as a soldier, valiant and skillful ; as a husband and father, fulfilling every duty in the social relations ; as a commander and viceroy, remarkable for bravery, honor, integrity, humanity, and love of order and justice ; as a friend, faithful and sincere ; in short, as a man in every vocation of life to which he was called, acting well his part, and leaving behind him an unblemished reputation. We may add, that under a simple exterior, ne concealed a noble character and great talents. Wise in council, un- daunted in the field, he was moderate in the exercise of power ; and he never appeared greater than in the midst ot the reverses of fortune, and the peculiar trials he was called upon to endure. Such was Eugene Beauharnais. Eugene was born in the Province of Brittany, [September 3, 1780], and received his early education at the College of St. Germain-en-Laye. Being destined for a military life, afc the age of twelve, he is said to ha\e been with Hoche, in La Vender ; and he was with his father on the Rhine — his mother and sister being at Martinique. During the Reign of Terror, the father of Eugene perished on the scaffold, and his mother was thrown into prison. On her release, after the fall of Robespierre, Eugene wa% bound an apprentice to 484 EUGEXE BEAUHAKNAIS. a joiner, which trade he actually learned, while his sister was placed with a raantua-maker. In the life of Josephine, we have related that it was through Eugene she became acquainted with Napoleon. It was on the occasion of his calling on General Bonaparte, to request that his father^s sword might be restored to him. II. On the marriage of his mother with Napoleon, Eugene was placed in the staff of the General ; but he continued to live with his mother in Paris, until the summer of 1797, when he joined the army of Italy, at Milan. On his arrival, he entered the service, as aid-de-camp to Napoleon, who felt for him an affection, which was justified by his good qualities. The following year, he accompanied the Com- mander-in-Chief on the expedition to Egypt. Having par- ticipated in the first actions of the French army in Egypt, on the entrance into Cairo, he was sent by Napoleon to compliment Murad Bey's wife. She received him on her grand divan, in the harem, to which he was admitted by special exception, as the Envoy of " Sultan Keebir," the name given by the Arabs to Napoleon. All the women wished to see the handsome young Frenchman. The wife of Murad Bey, although not less than fifty, was still dis- tinguished for beauty and grace. When coffee and sherbet had been served, she took from her, finger a valuable ring and presented it to the young officer, and sent severa requests to the General, who always protected her. Eugene co-operated with Croissier, a fellow aid-de-camp in the sanguinary affairs at Cairo and Jaffa. He endeavored to save the lives of the prisoners taken at Jaffa, but his humane efforts were in vain. We may well suppose that Eugene was not sorry to leave the scenes of suffering and 485 horror which he was compelled to witness in Egypt and Syria, and to return to France with Napoleon. He arrived in Paris, in October, 1799. It was owing to Eugene and Hortense that a reconcilia- tion was brought about between Napoleon and Josephine, )n the return from Egypt. Eugene was with his mother, in Paris, on the revolution of the 18th Brumaire. On the establishment of the Court of the First Consul at the Tuilleries, he formed one of its brilliant circle. He is described by the Duchess D'Abrantes as a most charming and amiable young man, attractive and elegant in his person. Frankness and hilarity pervaded all his actions ; he was good-natured, gracious, polite without being obsequious, and a mimic without being impertinent — a rare talent. He performed well in comedy, sang a good song, and danced, as his father (who was called the beau danciur in his time,) had done before him." III. The First Consul appointed Eugene, chef d! escadron in the Consular Guards, in which capacity he accompanied the army to Italy, and distinguished himself at the battle of Marengo. In 1804, he was made colonel-general of tlie Consular Guards. He was created a Prince of the Empire, and also Chancellor of State. In June, 1805, at the coro- nation at Milan, Eugene was made Viceroy of the Kingdom of Italy, which comprised Lombardy and the northern Papal provinces, and he immediately entered upon the duties of his office, his residence being fixed at Milan. Early in 1806, he was declared the adopted son of Napo- leon ; and by the influence of the Emperor, he solicited and obtained the hand of Augusta- Amelia, the eldest daughter of the King of Bavaria. They were married at Munich, 4:8b EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. January 13, 1806. In the same year, the Yenetiau States being annexed to the Italian Kingdom, Eugene was created Prince of Venice, and declared successor to the Iron Crown of Lombardy. As Viceroy of Italy, Eugene was popular with the citizens as well as the army. His frank bearing and affable temper with his humane disposition, made him many friends. He displayed activity and system in the details of his ad ministration ; his vice-regal court was splendid, but he was frugal in his own expenditures. He embellished Milan with public walks and buildings, and encouraged manufactures and the arts. His gallery of paintings was one of the most magnificent in Europe. Entirely devoted to the Emperor, he implicitly obeyed and enforced his decrees, though he oc- casionally endeavored to obtain some mitigation of them, when harsh or oppressive. In the war of 1809, between France and Austria, Eugene took the command of the French and Italian army,, on the frontiers towards Carinthia ; but he was obliged to retire before the superior forces of the Archduke John ; and after sustaining considerable loss, he withdrew to the Adige, where he received reinforcements. Upon the defeat of the main Austrian army in Germany, the Archduke marched back towards Vienna, and was closely followed by Eugene. A battle took place near the river Piave, in_^which the Aus-' trians were defeated. Eugene followed them on their retreat, and made his junction with Napoleon's grand army at Ebersdorf, near Vienna. He was thence sent into Hun gary. On the 14th June, he defeated tlie Archduke John at Raab, and subsquently distinguished himself at the battle of Wagram, which put an end to the war. CLOSE OF Eugene's career. 487 IV. He visited Paris, to be present at the declaration of the divorce of his mother. On that painful occasion he made a speech to the Senate, in which he dwelt on the duty of obe- dience to the Emperor, to whom he and his family acknow- edged themselves under great obligations. On the 3d of March, 1810, Napoleon appointed Eugene successor of the Prince Primate of the Confederation of the Rhine, who had been created Grand Duke of Frankfort. In 1812, he joined Napoleon in the Russian campaign, with part of the Italian army — taking command of the fourtlj corps of the grand army ; and was engaged at the battles of Mohilow and Moscow. In the disastrous retreat he suc- ceeded in keeping together the remnants of his own troops, and maintaining some order and discipline. After Napoleon and Murat had left the army, he took the chief command. At Majdebourg, he collected the relics of the various corps ; and at the battle of Lutzen, May 2, 1813, he commanded the left wing of the new army which Napoleon had raised. Soon after, he returned to Milan, to raise new conscriptions to replace the soldiers who had perished in Russia, and to provide for the defence of Italy against Austria. Three levies, of 15,000 conscripts each, were ordered in the course of the year, in the Kingdom of Italy alone ; but the people were tired of war, and it was difficult to collect the required numbers for the army. The news of the Battle of Leipsic added to the general discontent, and in October, 1813, Eugene fell back on the Adige, the Austrians having entered Italy. In March, 1814, being attacked by the Austrians on one side, and the Neapolitans on the other, Eugene with- drew to the Mincio, and removed his family and property from Milan to the fortress of Mantua. On the 16th of April, Eugene and Marshal Belligarde, the Austrian commander, 488 EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS. signed a convention, by whicli liostilities were suspended, the French troops sent away from Italy, and Venice and other fortified places delivered up to Austria. The Kingdom of Italy had ceased to exist, and Napoleon had abdicated. An unsuccessful attempt was made by the friends of Eugene to obtain his nomination as King of Lombardy. He gave up Mantua to the ^.ustrians, and fled with his family to Munich, where he was kindly received by his father-in- law, the King of Bavaria. He had been at his father-in- law's court but a few days, before he was summoned to France, by the death of his mother. He was courteously received by Louis XYIII., who addressed him, not as General, but Prince. By the Treaty of Paris, a suitable establishment was to be assigned him, and he repaired to "Vienna, to solicit the favor of the Congress of Allied Sove- reigns. While there, the Emperor Alexander honored him with special marks of regard, and proposed that, he should be made the Sovereign of a small Principality. But the return of Napoleon from Elba, changed the views of the Emperor of Russia. It was suspected that Eugene had informed Napoleon of the supposed intention of the Allied Sovereigns to transfer him to St. Helena ; and the suspicion was strengthened, when a decree of Napoleon enrolled Eugene among the new Peers of France. The King of Bavaria prevented the arrest of Eugene by the Austriar government, as he had gone to Vienna under his protection Being no longer an object of favor with the Allied Sove- reigns, Eugene retired to Munich, assuming the titles of Duke of Leuchtenberg, and Prince of Eichstadt. The Bavarian Principality of Eichstadt was bestowed upon Lira, DEATH OF EUGENE. 489 and his posterity declared capable of inheriting, in case of the failure of the Bavarian line. With the consent of the Pope, Eugene retained some estates in the northern part of the Papal Dominions. The restored Bourbon King of Naples also agreed to pay him five millions of Francs. These grants were intended as a compensation for the loss of the yearly income of a million Df fiancs, assigned to him by Napoleon, from the National Domain of Italy. In 1817, on the marriage of the Emperor of Austria with a Bavarian Princess, Eugene, who then resided with his father-in-law, considered himself disrespectfully treated. He and his family, therefore, took up their abode, for a time, with his sister Hortense, near the Lake of Constance, in Switzerland. He afterwards returned to Munich, where he died, of an organic disorder of the brain, on the 21st of January, 1824, in the forty -fourth year of his age. Eugene left six children — two sons and four daughters. His eldest daughter, Josephine Maximiliene, was married in 1823, to Oscar Bernadotte, now King of Sweden ; the second, Hortense Eugenia, was the wife of the Prince of Hohenzollern Heichingen ; the third daughter, Amelia Eugenia, in 1829, to the late Don Pedro, Emperor of Brazil ; the fourth married a Count of Wurtemberg. His eldest son, the Duke Augustus, married, in 1835, Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal, but died soon after the nuptials ; the youngest son, Maximilian, now Duke of Leuchtenberg, married in 1839, the Grand-Duchess Maria, daughter of Nicholas, Emperor of Russia. 490 NAPOLEON FRANCIS JOSEPH— DUKE OF EEICHSTADT. Born in Paris, March 20, 1811— Died at Vienna, July 22, 1832. I. When Napoleon first abdicated at Foiitainbleau, [AprH 1814], the King of Rome was taken by his mother to Vienna, at the wish of Francis of Austria, who for the first time then saw the child. In 1815, after his father's second abdi- cation, (which the Allied Sovereigns would not accept in favor of his son), young Napoleon was placed under the guardianship of his grandfather, the Emperor of Austria, by whose directions he was educated as a German Prince. His title of " King of Rome " was changed to that of Duke of Reichstadt. He early evinced a taste for a military life, and was edu- cated in that profession. In the prosecution of this design, and to divert his mind from another model, the example of Prince Eugene, of Savoy, was proposed for, his imitation. To cut off all intercourse with the agitators and adventurers of France, he was carefully secluded from communication with any persons except his attendants or instructors. This precaution, although it was accompanied with the amplest indulgences in all other respects, was feli as an irksome restraint, to which a recollection of earlier years gave a keener edge ; and ideas of his father's fame and grandeur, perpetually haunted his imagination. To the study of the German language he at first evinced a decided repugnance, which, however, he afterwards overcome ; but he had little inclination for literature. He had an early and radical dis- like for fiction. During his education at Schonbrunn, his tutors were 491 much perplexed by his extreme curiosity with regard to his father, and the circumstances and causes of his fall. It was evident that the restless spirit of Napoleon possessed the mind of his son. His instructors were directed by the Aus- trian Court to acquaint him with the whole truth, as a means of allaying the alarming and feverish anxiety of his mind. This plan had the desired effect, but he was thoughtful and reserved upon the subject of his life and fortunes. When the news of his father's death was communicated to him by M. Foresti, he was deeply affected. He was taught the learned languages ; but to these studies he paid little attention — Cesar's Commentaries being the only Latin book he seriously read. He devoted himself with ardor to military studies. He also left some proofs of literary industry. Among the papers of the Prince, in Italian, is a sketch of the life of Prince Schwartzenberg. From his fifteenth year, he was permitted to read any book on the history of Napoleon and the French Revolution. At length he was initiated into the policy of the Austrian Cabi- net. Accordingly, Prince Metternich, under the form of lectures on history, gave him the whole theory of imperial government. These lectures produced the effect desired, and he was thoroughly imbued with the doctrines of abso- lutism. • The revolution of 1830, produced a startling effect on the young Prince. He was not informed of the pertinacity with which his uncle Joseph urged his claims to the Crown of France. Least of all could the Prince have been aware of the effect which would have been produced at that time in France, had he suddenly made his appearance there, while the people were hesitating about accepting Lafayette's nomi- nation of the Duke of Orleans. 492 NAPOLEON FRANCIS JOSEPH. II. His first appearance in society was on the 25th of Janu' ary, 1831, at a grand party, at the house of the British Am^ bassador, Lord Cowley, when he became acquainted with Marmont, one of his father's marshals. In June, 1831, he was appointed Lieutenant- Colonel, and assumed the command of a battalion of Hungarian infantry. He was beginning to exhibit symptoms of consumption, and his exertions in the discharge of his new duties hastened the progress of the disease. Much against his own wishes, he was taken from his favorite military pursuits ; but his impetuous disposition hastened his dissolution. The first return of vigor excited the Prince to renewed exertion ; he commenced hunting in all weathers, which, together with exposure in visiting a neighboring military station, soon occasioned a recurrence of the most dangerous symptoms, and, after a short period of painful suffering, he died at the Palace of Schonbrunn, on the 22d of July, 1832, in the 22d year of his age. Under the guidance of Metternich, the grandson of Fran- cis became an Austrian subject, instead of a, French Prince, and forbade his ever cherishing any aspirations to a throne. The intelligence of his death was received with profound sensation in France, but at that time the people had quietly acquiesced in the elevation of the House of Orleans ; and the event which caused so much sorrow in^the hearts of the survivors of the Bonaparte family soon ceased to excite attention or feeling elsewhere. In the other nations of Europe there was but little regret that an individual, how- ever blameless in private life, who from circumstances might have disturbed the general peace, had been providentially removed by death, before the opportunity had offered for awakening in his bosom the ambition which distinguished his 'father. BOOK IX. JOACHIM MURAT, KING OF NAPLES, Born at Bastide-Frontoniere, France, March 25, 1767; Died at Pizzo, (Italy), Oct. 13, 1815. MUEAT— KING OF NAPLES. v*«^'jaj;,i»t«M.naKdBe?«nKHH&^&a.^ince more in this world made me attempt the boldest enter- prise I ever engaged in. It required more resolution and courage on my part than at Strasbourg and Boulogne, for I was determined not to submit to the ridicule that. attaches to those who are arrested, escaping under a disguise, and a failure I could not have endured. The following are the particulars of my escape : — " You know that the fort was guarded by four hundred men, who furnished daily sixty soldiers, placed as sentries outside the walls. Moreover, the principal gate of the prison was guarded by three jailers, two of whom were constantly on duty. It was necessary that I should first elude their vigilance, afterwards traverse the inside court before the windows of the commandant's residence ; and ar-riving there, I should be obliged to pass by a gate which was guarded by soldiers. " Not wishing to communicate my design to any one, it was necessary to disguise myself. As several rooms in the part of the building I occupied were undergoing repairs, it HIS ESCAPE FROM THE CASTLE OF HAM. 589 was not difficult to assume the dress of a workman. My good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin, procured a smock- frock and a pair of sabots, (wooden shoes), and, after shaving off my moustaches, I took a plank on my shoulders. " On Monday morning I saw the workmen enter, at half- past eight o'clock. Charles took them some drink, in order that I should not meet any of them on my passage. He was also to call one of the gardiens (turnkeys,) whilst Dr. Conneau conversed with the others. Nevertheless, I had scarcely got out of my room before I was accosted by a workman, who took me for one of his comrades, and, at the bottom of the stairs, I found myself in front of the keeper. Fortunately, I placed the plank I was carrying before my face, and succeeding in reaching the yard. Whenever I passed a sentinel, or any other person, I always kept the plank before my face. " Passing before the first sentinel, I let my pipe fall, and stopped to pick up the bits. There I met the officer on duty, but, as he was reading a letter, he did not pay atten- tion to me. The soldiers at the guard-house appeared sur- prised at my dress, and a drummer turned round several times to look at me. I next met some workmen, who looked very attentively at me. I placed the plank before my face, but they appeared to be so curious, that I thought I should never escape them, until I heard them cry, ' Oh ! it is Bernard P " Once outside, I walked quickly towards the road of St. Quentin. Charles, who, the day before, had engaged a car- riage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived at St. -Quentin. I passed through the town on foot, after having thrown off my smock-frock. Charles procured a post-chaise, under pretext of going to Cambrai. We arrived, without meeting with any obstacles, at Valenciennes, where I took the rail- 590 LOUIS NAPOLEON. way. I liad procured a Belgian passport, but nowhere was I asked to show it. " During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so devoted to me, remained in prison, and caused them to believe I was ill, in order to give me time to reach the frontier. It was necessary to be convinced that the government would never set me at liberty before I could be persuaded to quit France, if I would not consent to dishonor myself. It was also a matter of duty that I should exert all my powers to be able to console my father in his old age. " Adieu, my dear M. de George ; although free, I feel myself to be most unhappy. Receive the assurance of my sincere friendship, and, if you are able, endeavor to be useful to my kind Conneau." XXXIY. The part which Dr. Conneau played showed the greatest magnanimity, for his period of imprisonment had already expired. To give the Prince time to escape and leave no room for suspicion, Dr. Conneau remained in the castle till Napoleon had had time to effect his liberty. As soon as the escape was discovered. Dr. Conneau was arrested ; and, being interrogated by the tribunal at Peronne, he frankly gave a history of the whole affair. It cost him, however, an imprisonment of only three months. Again Louis Napoleon fled to London. He immediately wrote to Count St. Aulaire, the Frejich Ambassador, [May 29, 1846], saying — "I come frankly to declare to the man who was the friend of my mother, that, in quitting my prison I have had no idea of renewing against the French Government a war that has been so disastrous to me ; but only to be enabled to go and be near my aged father. Be- fore taking this step, I made every effort to obtain permissioD HIS FLIGHT TO LONDON. 691 to go to France, and I offered every guarantee consistent with my honor ; but finding all my applications fruitless, I determined to have recourse to the last expedient which the Due de Nemours and the Due de Guize adopted in similar circumstances under Henry TV. I beg, M. le Comte, that you will inform the French Government of my peaceable intentions, and I hope that such an assurance on my part will shorten the captivity of my friends who still remain in prison." He also wrote to Sir Robert Peel, who acknowledged the receipt of the letter, and Lord Aberdeen replied in effect, that under the circumstances stated, the Prince's sojourn in England would not be disagreeable, either to her Majesty, the Queen, nor to her Government. But the main object the Prince had in view, in effecting his escape, was not accomplished. The Austrian Ambassador at London, who also represented the Court of Tuscany, refused to sign his passport, and King Louis died on the 25th of July, 1846, without being able to see his son. He had in his will ex- pressed a desire that his body might be laid by the side of his eldest son, [who died in 1837], and that the remains of his second son, who died in Italy, might be laid by his side. This request was granted, and they were buried together there, September 29th, 1847. Neither could his only sur- viving son be present on this occasion. XXXV. When the Revolution of February, 1848, broke out, Louis Napoleon was in London. In the downfall of the Bourbons, and the flight of the territied king from the shores of France, Louis Napoleon began to read the fulfillment of his destiny. The day the exile of Louis Phillipe began, that day the exile of Louis Napoleon ended. He arrived in Paris, February 592 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 28th, gave in Ms adhesion as a citizen, and was among the first who saluted the Provisional Government. After a conference with its members, however, it was mutually agreed that it would be more prudent for him to retire for awhile from the scenes of the revolution ; and, as M. Tem- plaire savs, he. wished to give this new proof of his devotion to his country by retracing his steps into exile, and thence- forward remain until the elections, then at hand, were past, and the Constitution about to be adopted should give con- solidation and order to the new State. A party, however, who were perhaps not so inimical to the Bonapartes, as they were greedy for power, proposed in the committees of the National Assembly to retain in force the edict of exile in the case of Louis Napoleon. When the news reached him, [May 23, 1848], he wrote to the National Assembly — uttering his solemn protest against the injustice. Letters had also been written to the xVssembly by various members of the Orleans family, and these letters had been publicly read to that body. They, however, refused even to listen to the letter of Louis Napoleon. Lnmediately after the disturbances of June 12th, a decree of exile was published by the government against him. But having al- ready been elected a member of the National Assembly, and believing as he did that his presence in Paris would be prejudicial not only to the public tranquillity, but to his own cause, he had written a letter to the President of the As- sembly, declining the honor of representing his constituency. He says, " I had set out for my post, when I learned that my election had been made the pretext for some diplomatic disturbances, and some grave errors. T have not sought the honor of being elected a representative of the people, for I was aware of the injurious suspicions entertained against me. Still less should I seek for power. If the people were ADDRESS TO HIS CONSTITUENTS. 69.3 to impose duties upon me I should know how to fulfill them. But I disavow all those who attribute to me intentions which I do not hold. My name is a symbol of order, of nationality, of glory, and it would be with the liveliest grief that I should see it made use of to augment the troubles and dis- t?ensions of my country. In order to avoid such a misfortune I shall prefer to remain in exile. I am ready to make every sacrifice for the happiness of France. Have the goodness, ^r. le President, to make known to the Assembly the con- tents of this letter. I also send you a copy of the letter of thanks I have addressed to the electors." M. Templaire says, that this address, which was of a nature to calm all apprehensions, the President did not think proper to read. We shall make an extract from it : — " Citizens, your suf- frages fill me with gratitude. This mark of sympathy, which is the more flattering as I had not solicited it, found me at a moment when I was regretting that I should remain inactive while my country needs the co-operation of all her children to emerge from the difficulties now pressing around her. The confidence you have reposed in me imposes upon me duties which I shall know how to fulfill. Our interests, our sentiments, our aspirations are the same. A. representative of Paris, and now a representative of the people, I shall join my efforts to those of my colleagues, to re-establish order, public credit and industry ; to insure peaceful relations abroad ; to consolidate democratic institutions ; and to con- ciliate interests which now seem to be averse to one another simply because suspecting one another, and clashing instead of marching together towards a single object — that of the prosperity of the country. The people have been free since the 24th of February. They can obtain anything witliout re- course to brute force. Let us then rally around the altars of the country and the flag of the Republic, and present to 594 LOUIS NAPOLEON. the world the grand spectacle of a people regenerating itself without violence, without civil contests, without anarchy." XXXVI. The hostility of the executive and legislative departments of the government to Louis Napoleon certainly had no ori- gin with the people ; for there were not lacking indications on all sides that the popular sympathies were with him. There were at the time upwards of twenty journals in Paris established expressly to advocate his cause. It is, therefore, rational to suppose, that precisely the same state of feeling existed against him as against his uncle at the establishment of the Consulate ; and doubtless the chief members of the new French Republic foresaw, in the return of Napoleon to Paris, that they would be eclipsed, and their ambitious ends defeated. Other indications, however, were thickening on the public eye. Louis Napoleon was not only elected a member of the National Assembly from Paris, but from three other departments in France. Soon after, he heard that he had been chosen almost unanimously by the Electors of Cor- sica. He declined all these honors in letters to the Presi- dent of the National Assembly. But a new election was to take place on the 17th of Sep- tember ; and in reply to a letter from Gen. Pyat, the Prince wrote as follows, under date of August 28th, 1848 : — " Yau ask me if I would accept the post of Representative of the people, if I were to be RE-elected. I reply, without hesita tion. Yes. Now that it has been demonstrated without gain saying, that my election in four departments at once was not the result of intrigue, and that I have kept myself aloof from all manifestations and political maneuvers, I should feel my- self wanting in duty did I not respond to the call of my fel- low-citizens. My name can now no longer be made a pretext HIS APPEARANCE IN THE ASSEMBLY. 595 for commotions. T am anxious, therefore, to re-enter France and take my seat with the Representatives of the people, who desire to re-organize the Republic upon a broad and sold basis. To render the return of governments that have passed away, impossible, we have but one thing to do — that is, to do better than they ; for you know, General, that we liave not really destroyed the past till we have replaced it by something else." Louis Napoleon was again returned to J the National Assembly by the Department of the Seine, (Paris), by a majority of 60,000 votes, as well as by four other departments. He chose to accept the constituency of Paris, his native city. XXX YII. On the 26th of September, he made his appearance in the Chamber of the Assembly amidst a scene of great agitation ; and having mounted the tribune, he said — " Citizen Representatives, — I cannot longer remain si- lent after the calumnies directed against me. I feel it in- cumbent on me to declare openly, on the first day I am allowed to sit in this hall, the real sentiments which ani- mate and have always animated me. After being proscribed during thirty-three years, I have at last recovered a country and my rights of citizenship. The Republic has conferred Oil me that happiness. I offer it now my oath of gratitude and devotion ; and the generous fellow-countrymen who sent mc to this hall may rest certain that they will find me de- voted to the double task which is common to us all, namely, to assure order and tranquillity, the first want of the coun- try, and to develop the democratical institutions which the 'people has a right to claim. (Cheers.) During a long period I could only devote to my country the meditations of exile and captivity. To-day a new career is open to me. Admit 696 LOUIS NAPOLEON. me in your ranks, dear colleagues, with the sentiment of affectionate sympathy which animates me. My conduct j/oti may be certain shall ever be guided by a respectful devotion to the law. It will prove, to the confusion of those who have attempted to slander me, that no man is more devoted than I am, I repeat, to the defence of order and the consolida- tion of the Republic." XXXVIIT. The 26th of October witnessed scenes of great excite- ment in the Chamber of the Assembly. It was evident that there was a strong party in that body formed against him, who were determined to effect his exile and ruin. The session broke up in confusion, and the next day Louis Na- poleon again ascended the tribune and spoke as follows : — " Citizen Representatives, — The unpleasant incident which occurred yesterday will not permit me to remain silent. " I deeply deplore being obliged to speak again of myself, because it is painful to me to see the Assembly constantly engaged with questions of a personal nature, when we have not a moment to lose for the discussion of the great interests of the country. " I will not speak of my sentiments nor of my opinions — I have already manifested them to you ; and nobody has ever yet doubted my word. " As to my parliamentary conduct ; in the same way that I would never pretend to call to account any of my col leagues for what they may have thought proper to do, so I will recognize the right of no man to bring me to account. This is an account which I owe to no one but my constitu- ents. (Cheers.) " Of what am I accused ? Of having accepted, without HIS SPEECH IN THE CHAMBER. 597 having sought it, a candidature for the Presidency. (Move- ment.) Well — yes ! I accept that candidature, by which I am honored — I accept it, because the result of three suc- cessive elections, and the unanimous decree of the National Assembly reversing the decree of proscription against my amily, authorize me to believe that France regards the name vs^hich I bear as one which may assist in the consolidation of society, which has been shaken to its foundation — (loud murmurs) — and to the stability and prosperity of the Ee- public. How little do those who charge me with ambition know of my heart I If a sense of imperative duty did not retain me here — if the sympathy of my fellow-citizens did. not con- sole me for the animosity of the attacks of some, and even for the impetuosity of the defence of others, I should long have wished myself back in exile. " I am reproached for my silence. It is not given to every one — it is given to comparatively few, to bring to this place the eloquence of speech necessary to develop just and wholesome ideas. But is there no other way of serving one's country ? Yv^hat it is in want of, above all things, is deeds. What it wants is a government — firm, intelligent, and wise — which will think more of healing the wounds of society than in avenging them, (cheers) ; a government which shall put itself boldly in the front of sound ideas, in order to repel, with a thousand times more efi&cacy than could be done by means of bayonets, theories which are not founded upon experience and reason. " I know there are some who wish to beset my path with snares and ambushes ; but I shall not fall into them — I shall always follow the line of conduct which I have traced out for myself, without troubling myself with anxieties, and without stopping : Nothing will deprive me of my calmness — nothing will make me forget my duties. I have but one 598 LOUIS NAPOLEON. aim in yiew^ and that is to merit the esteem of tlie Assem bly, and, together with their esteem, that of all honest men, and the confidence of that magnanimous people which was treated so lightly yesterday — (murmurs). " I declare, therefore, to those who would wish to orga- nize against me a system of provocation, that from hence- forward I shall not reply to any attacks, nor to anything that may be done to excite me — (oh, oh !) — to speak, when I choose to remain silent ; and strong in the approval of my conscience, I shall remain unshaken amidst all attacks, and impassible to calumny — (cheers and murmurs)." Immediately after this speech, the 10th of December was fixed on by the Assembly, for the election of President, and the Prince published an address to Uie French people, as a candidate for their suffrages. The day of election came, and the following was the result : — Total number of votes polled - - - 7^59,000 Of which Louis Napoleon received - - - 6,434,226 General Cavaignac ----- 1,448,107 Ledru Rollin -----. 370,119 Raspail ...-.-. 36,900 Lamartine ------ 17,910 General Changarnier - - - - 4,790 Votes lost - - - - - - 12,600 Finally, the day of Inauguration came, and an officer ad- dressed the Assembly. He concluded by calling on the As- sembly to proclaim the President. " Have confidence," he said ; " God protects France." General Cavaignac then ascended the tribune, and said — "I have the honor to in- form the National Assembly, that the members of the Cabi net have just sent me their collective resignation, and I now come forward to surrender the powers with which it has invested me." The President of the Assembly then said — *' In the name of the French People : " Whereas, Citizen Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, HIS INAUGURATION. 599 born in Paris, possesses all the qualifications of eligibility required by the 44th Article of the Constitution ; whereas, the ballot gave him the absolute majority of suffrages for the presidency : By virtue of the powers conferred on the Assembly by the 47th and 48th Articles of the Constitution, I proclaim him President of the French Republic from this day, until the second Sunday of May, 1852 ; and I now invite him to ascend the tribune, and take the oath required by the Constitution." Prince Louis Napoleon rose from his seat, beside Odillon Barrot, and approached the Tribune. He was dressed in black. He wore under his coat, the Grand Cordon of the Legion of Honor, and on his left breast a star, set with dia- monds. He then solemnly took the oath of office — " In presence of God, and before the French People, represented by the National Assembly, I swear to remain faithful to the Democratic Republic, one and indivisible, and to fulfill all the duties which the Constitution imposes on me." The President was then escorted from the Hall. XXXIX. It is not necessary for us to record the annals of his Presidency — they are known to the world, and still fresh in the recollection of our readers : Much less do we feel called upon to attack or defend his administration. A few ob- servations may however be required. His election was the signal of order, political tranquillity, and national progress. This is what France meant in ihe overwhelming majority over all his rivals — or she meant nothing. A political storm had just swept over Europe, and all the elements of agitation were still actively at work in Paris. Nobody had any confidence in the stability of the present state of things. There was no security for life or 600 LOUIS NAPOLEON property. What scenes of carnage the next day-lreak might unfold, no man could tell. France held forty million men, women and children — not one of whom felt secure. A mighty nation was on the verge of chaos. All France felt it, and subsequent events proved it. Louis Napoleon felt it, and acted accordingly. He was the only man in France who understood his own position — he alone understood the feelings, the wants, the desires of her forty million country- men. He knew, moreover, the exact position of parties in France ; and he knew that unless these factions were sup- pressed, there could be no permanent repose for his country. In every other country in Europe, popular rights had been crushed, and constitutions blotted out. Everywhere the counter-revolution had triumphed, except in Paris. There a Republic was still left — but its existence was threatened every hour. Nobody believed in its perma- nence. Men can bear up under the certain blow of a great calamity — so can nations. Hence thirty millions slept calmly in France every night daring Robespierre's Reign of Terror — But neither mxCn nor nations can bear uncer- tainty. It is the most intolerable of all evils. France had got rid of the Bourbons, and now she wanted repose and progress. In Louis Napoleon she believed she had both. France had nothing to fear except from internal factions and parties, and they were ready to tear her to pieces. There was the old Bourbon faction, whichT had been de feated in 1830, when Charles X. was driven into exile This was the party of the readionaires of the Revolution of 1T89 — befriended and restored to power in 1815, by th coalition of the monarchs of Europe. They were the re- mains of Feudalism — the representatives of a past, dead age. They had contemplated the elevation of Louis Phillipe with no more complacency than that of Louis Napoleon. POLITICAL STATE OF FRANCE. 601 /Ley still dream of raising an elder Bonrbon to the throne of France, under the title of Henry Y. This faction is small — but despotism is on its side. The next is the faction of the younger Bourbons — the friends of Louis Phillipe — the moderate monarchists. They said that the Prince de Joinville would be elected in 1848 Of 8,000,000 he had 800— one in eighty thousand ! XL. There was, however, a faction far more formidable — It was the Communists. However great the diversity of their views, and however numerous the masters they followed — from Prudhomme and Fourier, who gilded their moral and political fallacies with the charm of learning and the guise of philosoph}^^^ — down to Cabet and the Socialist — Romancists, they held without distinction doctrines subversive of all go ■ vernment, human and divine. Their views were for a long time treated as the harmless ravings of fanatical dreamers. But gradually the poison had been distilled throughout France and Germany — chiefly through the romances of Eugene Sue, George Sand, and others — till Communism was openly recognized by the Provisional Government, and pro- claimed as a dogma of Government by Louis Blanc and some of his associates in the administration. The feeble Presi- dency of Lamartine was soon compelled to give way to more vigorous hands, and nothing but the firmness and straight-forward conduct of Cavaignac saved Paris from another Reign of Terror. Such was the state of France when Louis Napoleon was called to the Government ; and such the elements of anarchy which he had to contend with. He and all the friends of order and tranquillity clearly saw that France could be saved only by a vigorous execution of law — that there must be a 602 LOUIS XAPOLEOX. triumpliaiit vindication of the authority of the Government, or political chaos was inevitable. Such was the actual state of affairs ; and the President regulated his course accorcf- ingiy. XLI. His enemies were just as numerous as the partisans of these factions — and no more. All the rest of France wa with him ; and has been with him ever since. The politician have been against him from the beginning — the Socialists, the Revolutionists, the Bourbonists, the Orleanists, the Monarchists, the Pamphleteers, the Dreamers, the Theorists — have all been against him. But the people have been on his side. There are more owners of the soil in France than in any other European country — more than in the United States. They have all been with him. The Capitalists and Manufacturers have been with him and are with him still — everybody has been with him but the Factionists. We know this is not the common opinion in America. -But this can be easily accounted for. We have derived our opinions on this subject, as we do on all others which concern the Continent of Europe, from English sources. With a few remarks on the general subject, which are the result of our own reflections, we shall bring the sketch of Louis Napoleon to a close. His return from exile, his tri- umphant election as President of the Republic, for four years with his coup d^etat of 2d December, 1851, and the absolution the nation passed on that act by seven million votes — the apparent stability of his government, and the success which has attended every movement of his administration of power, have excited the wonder of mankind, and appeared to baffle philosophical solution. From the beginning, however, we confess we have seen nothing mysterious in the whole affair. It has been rather a matter of surprise that none of the CAUSES OF HIS POLITICAL ELEVATION. 603 public writers of the time should have revealed the causes which would satisfactorily explain the progress of events, their tendencies and results. It would be preposterous to suppose that an individual ike Louis Napoleon, without wealth and destitute of power, with few or no connections with men who could advance his prospects or gratify his ambition, should in a day, spring from something worse than obscurity — the odium of repeated failures — into an Empire which cost Napoleon the Great, many years of incomprehensible toil, and almost miraculous achievement. It all seems to us to admit of a very simple solution. France itself was ready for his coming, or his coming never would have been greeted as it v/as. The JVapoleon Dynasty is and will be for some time to come, an inevitable government in France — it is the only possible com- promise between Bourbonism, or the past, and Republicanism, or the future. XLII. " After the feudal system was broken up in France, the re- siduum was ruin. Political chaos was the natural result. The fabric of government, within whose inclosure dwelt thirty millions of men, could not be shattered to atoms in an hour without anarchy and blood. The work of reconstruction Napoleon attempted, and, in some respects, completed ; but it was in strictly physical or civil relations, that he could succeed during his short reign. The great social work which was to pervade all France, blending the remnants of the impossible past, with the new forms of the rising and inevitable future, establish and con- solidate a structure that would endure for another cycle of time, was to be the achievement of generations. This work of progress which the government gave no aid or direction to, during the period of the Bourbon restoration, 604 LOUIS NAPOLEON. was all the time receiving an irresistible impulse from the inward tendencies of things ; and, in 1830, Charles X., who neither understood France nor the age he was living in, fled from a throne he had never been worthy of. Something was conceded to the new principle in 1830, by tho elevation of Louis Phillipe, the representative of the youngei branch of the Bourbons. This elevation to the throne was another step of progress. It was a compromise between the past and the future, which lasted eighteen years. But things at last reached such a crisis that the French nation became persuaded that no Bourbon whatever — be he of the elder or of the cadet branch, could any longer rule France, and the consequences can be read in the Revolution of the 27th of February, 1848, when Louis Phillipe had become almost, if not quite as odious to the French people as Charles X. himself in 1830— not to say Louis XYI. in 1789. We do not know what the effect of a great monarchial al- liance against Louis Napoleon — an alliance of Sovereigns, Pope, Jesuits, Cardinals and Priests, Princes, Despots and tyrants of all grades, might be, particularly since the events of the last few years have converted Russia, Austria, and Prussia, into military despotisms. But if Napoleon himself found it impossible by military power alone to resist the progress of public opinion, we may find therein a reason why military combinations of tyrannical sovereigns will find themselves far too weak to cope with the terrible opposition of enlightened men. So then, we return to the idea that, France being pre-eminently above all European nations, a country of social progress, the Napoleon dynasty is the only possible compromise between Bourbonism, which has ceased, we think, to exist forever in that country, and the American type of well-balanced Democratic liberty, which exists only on our own side of the ocean. HIS POLITICAL PROSPECTS. 605 Therefore, we see nothing mysterious in the ascendent of Louis Napoleon's star. It has risen calmly and steadily into the heavens — as wonderful, perhaps, if regarded simply as a civil event as Napoleon's elevation was, regarded as the fruit of political revolutions and military achievements ; nor do we see any reason why the rule of Louis Napoleon is not likely to be even more permanent than his uncle's. There is a conviction (whether it be clearly expressed or not,) that his ascendency and government constitute an inevitable interval in the political history and progress of France. The affini- ties between him and the great mass of the people are so indissoluble — so natural — and withal, understanding as he seems to, so much better than any other man, the actual tendencies, tastes, feelings, and sympathies of the French People, his downfall can hereafter be anticipated, only from causes which would bring about the downfall of any other man. We know, therefore, of no reason why the dominion of Louis Napoleon should not continue. It will be said that some of his political acts — particularly his Coup d^Etat — the shooting of one or two thousand men in the streets of Paris, and the charge of his Chasseurs de Vincennes upon the naked breasts of the people — his cramp- ing the liberty of the Press — his arrest of a vast number of eminent men — his imprisonment of many of them, and the exile of others, with many acts besides that we might enu- merate, stamp him with the black seal of a Caligula. With- out being disposed to justify such measures, we are only contemplating them as facts that have occurred, and we fancy it would be by no means a difficult task to show that in what- ever he has done that has excited the indignation or courted the criticism of foreign nations, he has been sustained by a very large majority of the French People themselves. It does very well for Englishmen who rarely or never 606 LOUIS NAPOLEON. ^ find anything in France, except the gauzes and silks of Lyons, or the laces of Valenciennes, or the porcelain of Sevres, or the grizetts of Paris, to their liking, to pour out their hottest indignation and their bitterest satire upon the man they call a Usurper, and it seems natural enough that American Democrats who have even made advances from the principles of Jefferson, should discover abundant mate rial for fault-finding in what Louis Napoleon has done. But if we would be philosophical as writers, or just as men, we must place ourselves on the same point of observa- tion with the man we criticise, and examine for a moment a few circumstances, which, so far as our knowledge of other men's opinions has gone, have been almost if not entirely overlooked. The political incompetency of all the great men in France, who have attempted to guide public events, or administer government or justice, since the Kevolution of the 27 th February, has already become a proverb. The very men whose agitations at the time of the prohibited Banquets, and for many years before, had contributed to foment the Bevolution that exiled Louis Phillipe, had as fair a chance as men ever had, to display their capacity for governing a country ; and Lamartine himself, one of the purest, noblest and most gifted of writers, and of men, turned out so utterly incompetent to the great task of controlling the unchained passions of the million, that nothing but repeated harangues, from his eloquent and persuasive tongue, to the mob of Paris, day by day and hour by hour, kept the city from being whelmed in an ocean of blood. Socialist dreamers in the Provisional Government were allowed to proclaim to the mob the adoption by the government of the Utopian schemes of the Socialists. It was only with the hope of a consolidated government, on the part of one class of the INCOMPETENCY OF FRENCH STATESMEN. 607 community, and the dream of Agrarianism on the other, that Lamartine's government lasted a few weeks. And finally, had it not been for Cavaignac's accession to powei, and had he not held in his hand the sword of the army, with the prestige of military achievements, the mob of Paris never tvould have been awed into subjection to authority and law. And when the election of a President for four years came on, and every man in France was allowed to give his vote, and thereby declare his preference for a ruler of the State, who was the man whom nine-tenths of the people clamored for ? It was Louis Napoleon : And although perhaps not one in one thousand of the men who voted for him, stopped to reason, debate, or reflect, yet it is perfectly evident to the philosophical observer, that every vote so cast, was but an involuntary expression of a sentiment which seemed to have been an intuitive and instinctive one, among the French, from which we gather, that France, in its transition state, could not discover, nor did she desire anything else than the Napoleon Dynasty, as a compromise between Bourbonism, or the past, and Republicanism, or the future. Everybody out of France, except a few men who under- stood the actual state of things, prophesied that the National Assembly would interpose barriers to what were called the usurpations of Louis Napoleon ; but when it was found that the Assembly itself, controlled by the outward pressure of the people, and guided by the natural instincts of French- men, interposed few or no checks to the " usurpations" of the President, then it was supposed in England and in America, that, as a matter of course, infernal machines oi* daggers would soon put an end to the life of this trifler with the fate of France, and the peace of Europe. Again, when all these prophecies failed, foreign nations seemed to repose all their hopes on the election of Mav. 608 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 1852, wlien a new President by the Constitution was to be chosen, and when, of course, Louis Napoleon would be suc- ceeded by the Prince de Joinville, Cavaignac, Thiers, or some other illustrious man. Everybody out of France seems to have been deluded by this chimera. Agitators in Eng- land even uttered warnings against the French Prince, in the British House of Commons. The Chartists, Repealers, and Reformers, rang many changes on the same expectancy. The Italian revolutionists secretly nurtured this hope in their hearts, and the Roman republicans were everywhere writing to their friends among foreign nations, that they were only waiting for a general rising, until the month of May. Our own confederation, with its thirty republics, then listening to the magical eloquence of the Hungarian Patriot, saw but a single Mecca for all his hopes of revolu- tien ; and it was generally understood, and he himself uui- versally conveyed the idea, that at the period of the new election in France, the tocsin of a European revolution would be sounded, and those enchained countries once more be liberated from the thraldom of their tyrants. But suddenly, unexpectedly, almost tranquilly, on the 2d of December, 1851, fell the Coup d' Etat of Louis Napoleon like a bolt from Heaven. It stunned the world — it paralyzed opposition and ended the struggle. In a single hour, by one bold stroke from the hand of a man who knew where he stood, and who he was dealing with, the tocsin of revolu J;ion ceased to sound, socialism hung its head, and the world began to wake up from the dream of Agrarianism. Such is Lou-is Napoleon. It were all vain to say that such a man is either destitute of great qualities for government,'' or a knowledge of the spirit of the nation over which he presides. 609 XLIII. This work was written nearly eight years ago. It has under- gone no alteration since. The last two paragraphs were added to the proof sheets as they came from the press ; for a steamer had arrived announcing the now memorable coup d'etat. Many years have passed by since, and this volume, which has gone unaltered through many editions, now requires some addi- tions to render it as complete as when it first came from the writer's pen. We shall supply the connecting links of History. XLIV. The coup d^etat of the night of the 2d of December had saved France from a second Reign of Terror. Like other great acts, done in great crises, it alarmed the timid, who wanted no change —it provoked the satire of those who could not comprehend it, the sneer of the wise, who could see no wisdom in it, the oppo- sition of the ambitious, who saw their hopes extinguished, and it inflamed the curiosity of Europe. » But it did three other things. First: — It told the great masses of the French Empire that a new day of resurrection for the people was dawning, for the strong hand of a parvenue con- trolled the helm. Second: — It announced that the reign of Agi-arianism was at an end, and that order was established in France. Third : — It told Europe, in tones that reverberated to the most distant corner of the continent, that the right of Revo- lution is sacred ; that a people may rise in their might and cast off the foul incubus of hereditary despotism and choose their own rulers. It, in a word, established and vindicated the vital point in the whole system of modern civic life — that rulers must be demo- cratic — a principle which Louis Napoleon has adhered to closer 610 LOUIS NAPOLEOI?'. than any other Dictator ; at last, crossing the Alps to assert it on the plains of Italy, where he contended for the independence of a brave and a glorious Nation. XLV. Napoleon was at once accused of perjury, of usurpation, of murder, of assassination — of every crime. Those who knew least of France — of the volcano she had been sleeping on, of the misery she had been saved from — those who knew least of Napo- leon himself — and, above all, those despots and minions of power who had done the darkest deeds in modern history, were the very men who have since stooped the lowest to court the favor of this vindicator of outraged and stifled liberty. But all the criticism of foreign nations had little or nothing to do with the case. Let us see what France did with Napoleon, after the coup detat. The Prince President of the Republic had indeed done a bold act. So did Cesar in crossing the Rubicon ; so did Cromwell in dissolving the Long Parliament ; so did Washington in crossing the Delaware ; and so has every generous and brave man been com- pelled to do bold things when exigencies arose, and great and good things had to be done. And yet by this means Cesar saved Rome— Cromwell En- gland — and Washington America. So too did Louis Napolepn save France. xLvr. Just one week after the couj) d'etat^ Napoleon appealed to the people of France, and called on them by universal suffrage to declare whom they would have to rule over them for the next ten years. Eight million votes were cast, of which seven and a half THE NEW CONSTITUTION. 611 were given to Louis Napoleon. This election took place witliin twenty days of the conp detat^ and at a period when "tL.! usurper" was sufferiijg under the deepest odium which that act or his enemies could inflame against him. In no nation did any act of a public man ever meet with a higher or more earnest sanc- tion. Napoleon was elected hy acdamalion. All France was with him, and all France has been with him ever since. His first act was to proclaim the new constitution. It was announced on the 16th of the next month, [Jan., 1852.] Its cardinal principle, plainly avowed, embraced the whole philos- ophy of Democracy : — The direct responsibility of the CHIEF OF the Government to the Sovereign People op France. XLVII. The proclamation announcing the constitution declares : — "Being responsible, his actions must be free, and without hindrance. Hence arises the obligation of his having ministers who may be the honored and powerful auxiliaries of his thoughts, but who no longer form a responsible council composed of jointly responsible members, a daily obstacle to the special influence < f the Chief of the State — a council, the expression of a policy ema- nating from the Chambers, and for that very reason exposed to frequent changes, which render impossible a continuous policy, or the application of a regular system. • ' The present constitution has only settled that which it was impossible to leave uncertain. It has not shut up within insur- mountable barriers the destinies of a great people. For change, ' it has left a margin sufficiently large to allow, in great crises, other means of safety than the calamitous expedient of revolution. " The Senate can, in concert with the Government, modify all that is not fundamental in the constitution ; but as to any modi- 612 LOUIS NAPOLEON. fications of the fundamental bases sanctioned by your sufirages, they can only become definitive after having received your rati- fication. " Thus the people remain master of their destiny. Nothing fundamental is effected without their will. " Such are the ideas, such are the principles, which you have authorized me to apply. May this constitution give to our coun- try calm and prosperous days ! May it prevent the return of those intestine struggles in which victory, however legitimate, is always dearly bought ! May the sanction which you have given to my efibrts be blessed by Heaven ! Then peace will be assured — my ardent hopes will be fulfilled — my mission will be accom- plished. NAPOLEON." XLVIII. This was the chart laid down by the chief of the State, and Napoleon has followed it with the integrity of a truly great man, and the skill and certainty of a bold but experienced navigator. This constitution, thus announced, was received with gratitude and hearty approbation by the people of France. Every muni- cipality, every city, every department, every village and hamlet gave to it their cordial adhesion. A general desire was then expressed to have the Chief visit the provinces. He complied with the popular wish, and he was everywhere greeted with tokens of confidence, afiection, and enthusiasm. Napoleon had restored order and security to France ; he now began to carry out his imperial system of progress and develop- ment for the Empire and its resources. During a life of exile and travel he had seen and studied the institutions and govern- ments of nearly all civilized States. During his long imprison- ment in the gloomy castle of Ham, he had elaborated a system napoleon's political system. 613 of Imperial Democratic Government for France, with her Home and Foreign Policy, and a more complete system of the art of war than had ever been comprehended or displayed by the great- est captains. Finding himself at last at the head of France, with the power to act with freedom, and sustained by the confi- dence and sympathy of the Nation, he inaugurated the policy which he had so maturely elaborated. XLIX. Among all his writings, voluminous and varied as they had been, we find the key to his whole system in three brief passages of his " Yiews of the English Revolution." In that sagacious and illuminated work he says : — "The history of England calls loudly tomonarchs, Makch at THE HEAD OF THE IDEAS OF YOUR AGE, AND THEN THESE IDEAS WILL FOLLOW AND SUPPORT YOU. If YOU MARCH BEHIND THEM, THEY WILL DRAG YOU ON. AnD IF YOU MARCH AGAINST THEM, THEY WILL CERTAINLY PROVE YOUR DOWNFALL." Free and unfettered now, Napoleon began to work for France. Her great public works, which had been arrested by the late Rev- olution, were instantly resumed, and along all the arteries of industry and commerce the fresh current of electric enterprise began to flow. The physical condition of the working classes was considered, and a large proportion of the confiscated estates of the Orleans family was appropriated directly to this humane pur- pose. Harbors and rivers were improved, and France felt the thrill of progress in every department of social life, — labor grew strong at its toil — and every home in the Empire was brightened by a new feeling of security. At last, when the Nation became convinced that the Napoleon Empire should be restored, to give perfect and lasting security to the people. Napoleon again appealed to the Nation, and asked 614 LOUIS XAPOLEON. all Frenchmen to go to the ballot box and say '' Yes " or " No'^ on the question. L. On the 25th November the members of the Legislative Body came up from their several departments, and Napoleon conferred with them to hear the result of the election. Nearly nine mil- lion voters declared for the restoration of the Empire — there was no opposition. In addressing the Legislature, Napoleon said : — "I have recalled you from your departments that you may be associated with the great act which is about to be accomplished. Although the Senate and the people alone had the right to modify the constitution, I wished that a political body which had issued, like myself, from universal suffrage, should come to attest to the world the spontaneousness of the National movement which bears me to the Empire. I desire expressly that it should be you who, in certifying the liberty of the vote and the numeri- cal amount of the suffrage, should prove by your declarations the complete la^yfulness of my power. To declare, in fact, to-day, that authority rests on incontestable right, is to give it the neces- sary force for founding something durable, and to insure the pros- perity of the country. "The Government, as you know, will only change its form. Devoted to the great interests which intelligence brings forth, and which peace develops, it will restrain itself, as it has hith-' erto done, within the limits of moderation ; for success never swells with pride the hearts of those who see in their elevation a greater duty imposed by the people, and a more elevated mis- sion imposed by Providence." Louis Napoleon thus became, by the deliberate vote of all France, Emperor of the restored Empire — and from this re-inau- guration of the Napoleon Dynasty, France had a chief under the title of Napoleon III., Emperor of the French Republic. HIS MARRIAGE WITH EUGENIE. 615 LI. Having thus consolidated the Democratic Empire of France, with security for Government and Society; and France herself having once more entered upon the path of development and peaceful progress in all that enriches, adorns, or embellishes life, the Emperor began to think of his home and his family. He had no home. Being an elected Sovereign ; — chosen by the universal voice of his fellow-countrymen to stand at the head of his nation — to protect her from her intestine enemies, and her foreign foes — to develop her resources at home, and extend her commerce abroad : — at this moment of respite from the cares of State, the first he had seen for years of anxiety — he above all other men could lay a fair claim to think for a while of himself, and in the battle of life for an Empire, give a little while to what every man of feeling and heroism finds sooner or later pressed to his bosom — thoughts of a wife, a home, a child ! Created an Emperor- by one of the most powerful of Empires, he had no inclination to merge the grandeur of his Democratic origin in the slough of a worn-out and efiete Bourbon race. LII. Like himself, as he has always been, he again went to the people. He chose for his wife one of the noblest maidens of Spain, and one of the most gifted and beautiful beings in the world, — Eugenie, Mdlle. de Montijo, the Countess de Teba. The marriage was celebrated at the Tuilleries January 29. On the fol- lowing day (Sunday,) the religious ceremony was performed with imperial pomp, taste, and splendor at the cathedtal Notre Dame. Even in the days of the first Empire, no nobler assemblage ever gathered in Paris. Graced by the fascinating charms of the beautiful Eugenie, that venerable edifice, around whose walls the 616 LOUIS NAPOLEON. streams of empire have drifted for a thousand years, seemed to reveal a new and more genial light flashing up into its dusky arches. The past, with all its classic and touching souvenirs^ came back freighted with the glory, the chivalry, the love, the devotion of the Middle Ages. The bridegroom and the bride — both in the full possession of Imperial power, and both freshly sprung from the bosom of the people ! — such a spectacle may well have thrilled the palpitating thousands in that vast cathedral with intense emotion — melted the young Empress of the Napo- leon Dynasty to tears — illuminated all Paris that night, and beckoned old Italy to an approaching Resurrection. LIII. The nuptials had already been announced by the Emperor to the Senate on the 22d of January, [1853.] "She who has been the object of my preference is of princely descent. French in heart, by education, and the recollection of the blood shed by her father in the cause of the Empire,- she has, as a Spaniard, the advantage of not having in France a family to whom it might be necessary to give honors and fortune. En- dowed with all the qualities of the mind, she will be the orna- ment of the throne. In the day of danger she would be one of its courageous supporters. A Catholic,' she will address to Heaven the same prayers with me for the happiness of France. In fine, by her grace and her goodness, she will^ I fondly hope, endeavor to revive in the same position the virtues of the Empress Josephine. *'I come then, gentlemen, to announce that I have preferred the woman whom I love, and whom I respect, to one who is un- known, and whose alliance would have had advantages mingled with sacrifices. "Without despising any one, I yet yield to my inclinations, after having taken counsel with my reason and my EUGENIE. 617 convictions. In fine, by placing independence, the qualities of the heart, domestic happiness, above dynastic prejudices and the calculations of ambition, I shall not be less strong, because I shall be more free. ■'Proceeding immediately to Notre Dame, I shall present the Empress to the people and the army. The confidence they have ill me assures me of their sympathy ; and you, gentlemen, on better knowing her whom I have chosen, will agree that on this occasion, as on some others, I have been inspired by Providence." LIV. Such a spectacle had never been witnessed before in the whole track of ages. It became after our own Iliad of sufiering and heroism — the noblest assertion of the great Democratic principle which must yet command the respect of all tyrants ; — for Lib- erty means that Nations may choose their own rulers ; and it is to demonstrate this principle that Napoleon has fought those glo- rious battles on the blushing fields of Lombardy, where he has shown himself a greater general than any of the victors of past ages on the same fields. LV. Eugenie was born a lady, and she could never be any thing else. But all Empresses are not ladies. There are as many, and in proportion, more vulgar people on thrones, than in the se- cludevi vales of hfe. From the day of that Democratic coronation. Napoleon III. has seen no necessity for asking some old Pope to put a crown on his head — he has needed no holy oil made by a poor chemist to anoint his brow. He has let all this flummery of dead folks go by the board, with the rotten old empires that have drifted away, 618 LOUIS NAPOLEO^r. or soon will, on that great river which, in giving outlet to the pent-up passions and aspirations of the earth's uncounted chil- dren for six thousand years, is to spring in one Niagara leap that will give freedom to all mankind. LVI. Napoleon had to arrest and hold, or send out of Trainee, hordes of disturbers and redrepublican fools and villains, and he did it. The world said some hard things about it ; and En- gland struck the key-note of denuuciation. We will not stop this episode, to tell England any one of her million crimes, but we announce a principle that is clear : — the surgeon must be the judge of the quantity of blood the scalpel must let ; and Napo- leon was the surgeon of France, and France was sick. LVII. France got well. He was a good surgeon. France has not only got well, but she has got so well, that from the exuberance of her life and the unwasting fountain of her heroism, her victo- rious legions have swept the Austrians from the blushing plains of Northern Italy. And the day has long gone by when even an English Ministry can oppose the policy of the Emperor, without giving their places to better men. LVIII. And then back to France came, by a generous amnesty, many of the former disturbers of the peace of their country. They had learned a wholesome lesson, not to interfere with the pros- perity of forty millions of their fellow-countrymen. Some of those people have since tried to kill Napoleon by Infernal Machines of one sort or another ; but be seems to feel, THE BATTLES OF THE CRIMEA. 619 like all other great men while doing great deeds, that God is in Heaven, and that His worker on the earth can better afford to die than God can afford to let him. LIX. Only a year before, France was at the mercy of anarchy ; and whoever has read history knows that anarchy blots out civiliza- tion. Nothing worth having can be had without order ^ for '' or- der is Heaven's first law." France has confidence in to-day, and faith in the future. LX. Such was France, when once more the clarion of battle sounded from Windsor castle, and heard the answering peal from the other side of the Channel. It was responded to by a strange, unfore- seen, but well considered alliance^ by which poor old Turkey was to be saved from the merciless tramp of the Russian. In these brief records we can not trace the history of Napoleon III. to the present time. We must leave out the war of the Crimea — the battle-fields of Balaklava and Inkerman — the storm- ing and the capture of the Malakoff, which made Sebastepol fall. We must almost overlook the visit of Eugenie to Victoria — and Victoria to Eugenie — and Victoria is a name cherished by all men who speak the English language. She visited Eugenie, the warm-hearted woman, and the gifted Empress, and all the splen- dors of France were invoked to pay a genial tribute to the noble woman who crowns the pyramidal structure of the British empire. LXI. f We must even leave out all the kind and generous things Eugenie has done to the poor, the neglected and forgotten suffer- 620 LOUIS NAPOLEON. mg of France. We can tell nothing of the womanly deeds she has done. Any lady born to an empire can not help being an Empress — but to be born a woman and a lady^ and then grace an empire and illuminate millions of homes, is a fortune few are born to. Just in proportion as these excellent qualities are pos- sessed by woman, so do the homes of earth become bright and beautiful, and men brave and true. LXII. Eugenie has been the good angel of the hero of Solferino as Josephine was of the hero of Marengo. Amidst the storms of empire, which even unsteadied the nerves of Napoleon, (which seem to be made of steel,) and afterwards, when he had every temptation to hurl back on the thrones of Europe the insults which her despots had given him — when he felt that in taking the reins of government in France he was going into a cage of hyenas, ^ — when all Europe was an ocean waiting in blackness and silence for the storm that was to lash it into fury— at this moment Eugenie shot across the path of his ambition — and love said, "Peace, be still!" The Peace of Europe has been disturbed by France only once ■ — for A^'hen England wished to make war on Russia, Napoleon joined her only to say th t Russia must keep her hand off from " the Grolden Horn." But when France did undertake a war to show an old and rotten Empire that she must^take her polluted hands from the fair form of Italy, and move her now broken bat- talions beyond the Tyrol, then came the fields of Palestro, Monte- bello. Magenta, and Solferino. Such, in brief words, is Napo- leon III. — and such, in too few words, is the beautiful Euorenie. POLITICAL STATE OF EUROPE. 621 FRi^NCE, ENGLAND, AND ITALY. The peace of Yillafranca suddenly ended the war in Italy. The world was more astounded by the peace, than it had been electrified by the battle of Solferino. That battle was a victory ; and the brave but misguided Emperor of Austria found himself the night after the conflict, at the head of an army of a quarter of a million of men who had been paralyzed by defeat in every engagement. II. One fact will flash conviction where a thousand theories can get no hearing. When the night shadows fell over the field of Solferino, and Francis Joseph knew that he had lost this Water- loo, that young monarch found Italy lost ; and had Napoleon pressed his victorious legions in their march, the Hapsburgh Empire might have been dismembered in the midst of a general European war. III. But such was not the object of this great crusade. Napoleon knew, and had often said, that Europe never could have either peace, progress, or liberty while the Austrian ruled beyond the Tyrol : and by the peace of Villafranca he put an end to that dominion. It was regarded by the world as another of those strange and inexplicable freaks or tricks of the French Era- C22 LOUIS NAPOLEON. peror, which were designed to accomplish merely some aims of I paivate ambition. But in this, as in all other instances, Napo- leon held to his immoveable maxim — silence is greater than speech. rv. The question is now asked, what has Italy gained by this war ? Napoleon promised to leave " Italy free from the Alps to the Adriatic.'' This implied only this — that the scepter of Austria in Italy should be broken. And this has been done. What does the past tell us ? — Italy had successively been pil- laged and oppressed by England, Spain, France and Austria. None of them ever came down the Alps, nor crossed the Po, nor landed on her coasts, without unfurling the flag of liberty : but after their conquests they always left her in chains. Even Napoleon I., her own child ^ who knew her history and hated her tyrants,— who was greeted on the fields of Montenotte, and Marengo, and Lodi as her deliverer^— ^\\q might have made her glad and free • — even he swept away the thrones of her tyrants only to make places for those of his own family. He carried her sons away to fight strangers in distant lands ; they followed his eagles to Spain to die in the passes of the Pyrenees, or to freeze on the ice- plains of Russia. Italy poured her gold into his cofiers as freely as if it had been water. She stripped her galleries and churcbes and cabinets of the works of her great masters, and she enriched her sacrifice by the blood of more than one hundred thousand of her brave men. Eut all this could not buy her ransom. And thus for a thousand years the sovereigns of Europe had been feeding on the dead eagle of Rome. With the re-inaugura- POLITICAL STATE OF EUROPE. 623 tion of the Napoleon Dynasty, under Napoleon III., a new era began. He led his invincible army into Italy with the avowed purpose of adding no new territory to France, but only to put an end to the despotism of Austria in that peninsula, and by thus asserting the great democratic doctrine of the right of nations to govern themselves, to give progress to liberty, and repose to Europe. VI. He fully redeemed his pledge; and at the end of fifty days the victor offered peace to Austria. The future will show the wisdom of his policy, the moderation of his ambition, his in- stinctive love of democracy, and the high character of his mission — to vindicate, in the midst of the reeling fabrics of despotism in the Old World, what America fought for seven years to gain in the New — the right of the People to rule themselves. VII. In the beginning England and the whole world denounced Napoleon as a despot, now the same England complains that he has not done more for Italy. So it was in the time of our Revo- lution of 17T6. Then France came to our aid, and La Fayette and Count Rochambeau, on the land and the sea, nerved our arms to strike one more blow at the heart of our spoiler. France has always felt the electric touches of the genius of progress and liberty as it moved through the ages. There is now in fact little progi-ess in Europe, as we understand progress in America, ex- cept in France and Russia. VIII. England and Prussia have indeed been left out of all calcula- tions in beginning the war, in making the peace. They feel 624 LOUIS NAPOLEON. wounded ; and what is more, thej are. Prussia was too late to help Austria, and just early enough to lose her and France in one stroke. England was just Austrian enough to lose Austria and Italy, a,nd just insulting enough to irritate France. Russia had been humbled in the Crimea for Moscow. Austria, which had lost Russia by not joining her in the Crimea in return for saving her empire from dismemberment in 1849, had gained the friendship of France without regaining the friendship of Russia. And thus the drama of empire goes on, shifting its scenes as events sweep by, dampening the hopes of some, and inspiring the hopes of others. But all the while we see Fra,nce in peace or battle, by land or sea, in diplomacy, in agriculture, in progress, leaving all the nations of the Old World behind her. EUGENIE. TIIL THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON HI. Yeaks have gone by, crowded with strange events — and again we continue this history. Napoleon III. died in Camden House, Chiselhurst, Kent, England, January 9th, 1873. This Book, which is not his history only, but that of his Family and Dynasty, needs but a few chapters to close the record. II- We left N"apoleon after he had made his word good that Italy should be free from the Alps to the Adriatic. The world has since looked upon the great spectacle of Italy redeemed, and becoming for the third time " Queen of the world." She was so as Eome — Imperial, Christian Eome — first the Caesars, then the Pontifis. She became so again, when her sculptors, artists, explorers and statesmen gave back a half lost civiliza- tion to the human race. Since the peace of Villa-Franca, Italy has been rapidly, and we hope surely, consolidating herself, with all her elements of life and strength, into a grand commonwealth ; a Union much after the old Eoman, and the modern American idea — a com- bination of States and Communities, homogeneous in their origin, differing in their local interests, long antagonistic, and in protracted and fatal strife ; but forever of the same opinion; until now she takes her seat at the counsel -board of tlie na- tions which are marching into a better future — and she not the least proud or beautiful STAPOLLOlN III. III. The best men in the world haye been sorry that the Chief of the Catholic Church should have thought it necessary to oppose the unification and independence of the Italian States; for it is plain enough that no hierarchy, or theology, can any longer stand betweeu the human race, and God and real Eeligion. Italy can afford the malediction of a feeble old priest as long as she has the shining battalions of an army of free- men on her soil, and the smile of heayen aboye her. It was not in yain that Cayour, Italy's greatest statesman since Machiayelli, made that yisit to Plombieres, where the unity and independence of Italy were agreed on between him and Napoleon. ISTor can it hardly be alleged hereafter, — while the French Emperor did some or many bad things, that he broke his word to that greatest and most beautiful of all the old lands, blushing with fruit of soil, and fruit of genius. 'Not need an American historian forget how much this Conti- nent owes to Columbus and Vespucius in discovery, nor to Justinian in Law, nor to that innumerable army of the chiefs of human thought, who transmitted the torch of light and civilization down through the ages. IV. But we must come to later and more pressing events. France was prosperous and splendid, and Italy was redeemed; but Malalvoff had yet to fall, Maximilian had yet to die, the Amer- ican Eebellion was still to occur, and Napoleon himself had yet to surrender at Sedan, and Prussia had to place herself at the head of the most complete military organization Europe had seen. France was to pay the dreadful penalty of gratifying lier lust for military glory. And yet, in the midst of her humiliation we find that, whatever might be the indemnity her conqueror should call for, she was rich enough to pay it from resources of her own without asking help. She is ever^ PEOSPEKITY OF FKAI^CE Ui^DEE Is^APOLEON. 627 now proving that at her own will she can fonnd a Eepnblic in an honr, which she has maintained thus far. ISTot often has history had to record such a series of bewilder- ing changes as the last few years have offered. What prophet of them would have found listening, least of all patient ears ? Who would have believed any part of these events ? And yet Eugenie's Chapel for the present, holds the ashes of the last of the exiled Bonapartes that carried on the dynasty — a Hapsburg vault holds the ashes of Maximilian— a mad-house holds something worse than the ashes of poor Carlotta, and heaven knows what sepulchre may be waiting for the ashas of the latest French Bepublic. V. It appears from the reports of the Department of Com- merce of France, that her domestic industries and commerce, her agriculture, products, &c., had more than doubled under the administration of Napoleon. His reign was only about as long as that of Louis Philippe ; but a "close comparison of the two will show how much more material prosperity was pro- moted from the fall of Louis Philippe to the battle of Sedan, than France or any other nation could show, during a like period. Perhaps it may be said, we are attaching too much import- ance to the inaterial prosperity of the French people. But the proofs of it which they have recently given, are understood by the statesmen and the bankers of the world; and however much obloquy has been cast upon Louis Napoleon, he may ap- pear in a better light as tlie fects come out. The Bourbons had impoverished their country ; but, to our sight, the man who carried that slab on his shoulder over the draw-bridge of the castle of Ham on his way to the redemption of France, is a far more interestiug spectacle than the ascension to the throne of France of any Bourbon that ever sat there. Gm NAPOLEOl?^ III. But brilliant and beautiful as France had become under the administration of Napoleon, rich and prosperous as she was in all respects, the shadows were beginning to fall upon the land- scape. Paris had become in a higher sense than she was ever before, the metropolis of Science, Art, Pleasure, and Beauty ; and the world was at her feet. Travelers, students, and culti- vators of science, explorers, pleasure seekers, princes, kings, emperors — the whole mob of them ; the inventors of the earth, the Aspasias of all the nations, were in that city to worship at a common shrine. VI. The l^apoleons have blessed and cursed France, as France has blessed and cursed them; and, perhaps, they are there- fore even. Mountains always have corresponding depressions. Especially are these features clearly defined in volcanic regions. The same rule holds good in mind. There are men and women, and races, and dynasties, that could be properly placed in the volcanic strata of life, if the classifications in the intellectual and moral world were as clear and satisfactory as they are in physics. But it seems harder fco define human character or government than to weigh the inner ring of Saturn. The Bonaparte family belongs to volcanic races — the Napo- leon dynasty to volcanic empires — the French people to vol- canic nations. Neither the Kichelieiis nor the Talleyrands understood France half as well as the Bonapartes. These Napoleon men came out of the seven times heated furnace of trial, suffering, folly, and experience, and they emerged to scatter fire through the nations. The Bourbons issued from palaces to scatter tinsel, profligacy and lust. Victor Hugo would have been a Napoleonist, if his worse than woman's vanity had not been wounded by foolish slight or oversight, perhaps wisdom of Louis Napoleon. But this matters little, since the man he insulted sleeps so well on a foreign soil, and ALLIAInCE BETWEEJ^ EIs^GLAKD and PFtAXCE. G29 the man that insulted him drivels and drales. Victor Hugo, the satirist of Napoleon '' the little," — this Napoleon's ashes, like those of the other Napoleon, will yet sleep under the dome of the Invalides. VII. That the possession of Constantinople would give to Eussia the control of Europe, had from the reign of Catherine passed into the accepted maxims of European statesmanship. Hardly less amiable, and certainly quite as great, as the English Eliza- hetli, the Eussian icoman had put up a sign-board at the South- eastern gate of the empire : " To Constantinople." The men of Europe took her at her word ; and in every attempt of Eussia to push her dominion over the borders of the Ottoman, has awakened the vigilance of Europe. At last England and France made a plain treaty, of which so few have ever been made. England ridiculed Louis Napoleon until he became emperor ; then she saw how well her great statesman Palmerston had understood Louis Napoleon, when he was an exile — only a Prince, a Pretender to the succession of the dynasty. A firm alliance was struck between England and France, and the animosities of ages were buried in the Free Trade Treaty, and also a Treaty for Empire. This was the work of those two great men, Palmerston and Napoleon. In coming to a good understanding, they agreed that Eussia should not take the capital of the " sick man," and Eussia wanted it. That sign-board had never been taken down. We have no room to write a history of the w^ar in the Crimea, except in a paragraph. The fall of Malakoff, achieved by French chivalry, and not by English valor, did not sound so gratefully upon American ears, as upon English, French, Sardinian and Turkish. We had mingled reasons of love and regret, that Eussia should have 'been unwise, or sliould havd suffered ; bufe no American 630 kapoleo^n' in. wished to see England extend her empire any farther through the Mediterranean, nor did we wish to see France making the Mediterranean a French lake. But the war in the Crimea be- came inevitable, ending with little glory to any body. It post- poned the death of the sick man, and his sick empire, and perpetuated the disgraceful spectacle of the eleyation of the Crescent of Mahomet aboye the Cross of Jesus, The prestige of the army of the rising kingdom of Sardinia enabled Victor Emanuel to unite Italy, and reign over it to this hour. YIII. In the inyasion of Mexico the declaration was made to the world that to land a military force, and advance upon the Mexican capital, was entirely out of their contemplation ; their intention was only to send a combined nayal force into the Gulf of Mexico. The plan agreed upon for the satisfaction of the contested or acknowledged claims was " that the allied powers will seques- trate the custom revenues of the ports in question.'^ The entire Xorth American l^ational Squadron of England had been placed at the service of this expedition. France and Spain had made special appropriations for this same work — am- ple naval and military power to crush out Mexico. But it seems as though Mexico was not to be crushed out, for when the pur- poses of Napoleon were understood, both of these alhed powers to that treaty withdrew their forces. The date of the treaty between England, France, and Spain, was October 31st, 1861. IX. During these doubtful times, and while the complicated movements of these allied enemies of Mexico were proceeding, there was one man at Washingt^oa, fi*om whose gtatesman'g WHO WILL BE XAPOLEOX lY ? 631 vigilance nothing escaped. Mr. Seward blocked the whole game, and all the parties to the disgi'aceful alliance retired in disgust, except France, who left with the mnrder of Maximilian and 30,000 of her dead soldiers at her back. Louis Xapoleon's son was born March 16th, 1856. By a decree of the Senate dated Noyember the 7th, 1852, "The Imperial dignity is hereditary in the main legitimate lines of the present Emperor, in the order of primogeniture." Napoleon III. also reserved the right, in case he should leave no male children, to nominate his successor from the family of Napoleon I., and he accordingly nominated Jerome, King of Westphalia, from his marriage with Catherine, Princess of Wurtemburgh. But it so happens that the same authority which made Louis !N"aj)oleon Emperor, decided that the marriage between Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte with Miss Patterson, was legal in the Court of Pinal Appeals in France, and the Pope of Eome had refused to annul the marriage between Napoleon's brother at Baltimore, for he was of lawful age, and had a right to marry whom he pleased; and as the nuptials were consummated by Archbishop Carroll of Baltimore, the Pope never went behind the marriage. Therefore it may be the destiny of Colonel Bonaparte, formerly of the American Army, to be the next Emperor of France. The urgent, intelligent, and firm representations of our Gov- ernment at Washington against the further attempt of France to repress and oppress the independence and nationality of Mexico, jSnally prevailed. The last hostile foot which was on the soil of Mexico, left. 632 ' NAPOLEOIT III. XI. The pressure of the world, and the determined attitude of the American Government, had compelled the evacuation of Mexico by the French forces. The month of December, 1866, witnessed the inevitable fall of that sham empire, and the humiliating retreat of the French army. By order of Marshal Bazaine, in January following, the French transports appeared at Vera Cruz to embark the French army of invasion and insult. Poor Maximilian was left alone before the month of March set in, at the head of his native, faithful, but small force of Austrian auxiliaries. On the 15th of May, 1867, the Liberal redeeming and aveng- ing army of Mexico at Queretaro captured the late emperor and his force. When the court martial's sentence for the execution of Maximilian was to take effect, on the 13th of June, an Amer- ican lady, the wife of Prince Salm-Salm, interceded with Juarez in behalf of the arcliduke. Frederick Hall of Califor- nia, as counsel for Maximilian, also importuned the Mexican President for the life of his distinguished client. But Juarez, the legitimate President of the Mexican republic, gave this answer : '' He must await the considerations of jus- tice ; and the necessity of securing peace to the nation is not consistent with such an act of clemency.*' In the month of June the unhappy archduke of Hapsburg was shot by a platoon of soldiers. The body of Maximilian was given np to the Consul General of Austria to be embalmed, and when that was done, it was delivered to Admiral Tegethoff, to be conveyed to Europe, where it remained at the disposal of the Emperor Francis Josepli. Thus ended this farce of an at- tempt of any European dynasty, or any European power, to dic- tate a foreign despotism this side of the Atlantic. THE VICTIMS OF M. THIEES. 6.33 XII. Charlemagne attempted to secure the civilization of Europe on a solid basis. He did his best for the future of the nations. That the nations failed to understand him was their fault, not his. But neither France nor the other nations understood how great a man heaven had sent among them — and so they lost many of his lessons of vf isdom ; and many of the troubles of Europe since that time, have been the results of this mis- understanding, as the greatest troubles of our Eepublic have arisen from a misapprehension of the lessons of "Washington and the founders of our Republic. Let these lessons be learned now. XIII. It may not seem the most appropriate place for its introduc- tion, but we utter a few words here on the atrocities of M. Thiers's treatment of the defenders of Paris — the Communists. However much we may abhor some of their acts, we abhor still more the barbarous and inhuman shooting of — and by machin- ery at that — so many victims of arbitrary power. Above all should M. Thiers have showed some clemency to the men who dragged down the IS'apoleon column. And to invoke machinery for the gigantic immolation ! Our great Eebellion witnessed not a single execution. ISTo communist died by the fiat of M. Thiers, without sowing the seed of the martyrs' church of the future. The communists of France who held that beauti- ful capital so long, were the early, we hope the last martyrs of that faith whose chief corner-stone is Uood, Thus it is that, with all his erudition and research, he has been only the historian of better men's deeds in the past, with- out displaying any high qualities of statesmanship in his own administration. Let better lessons be learned hereafter. The working macliin- ery of liberty in Europe is getting ready— it will come in good 634 NAP0LE02T III. time. Even Napoleon I. was no longer master of France's position, when he ceased to comprehend it. Napoleon III. was still less master of his position, when he stood in the way of the inevitable. Emperors, presidents, and conquerors must do right hereafter, or give place to men who will. The future is not to be trifled with as cruelly as the past has been. Man- kind musfc have justice. It is nov/ the province of authorship to rex3all the past only to save its lessons of wisdom, as we greet the future with its inspirations of hope. xrv. The war with Germany had become inevitable. Napoleon may be accused of having fomented it, and it is certain that the conduct of his foolish embassador, Benedetti, justified this belief. But it is equally certain that the moment came when France could not be stopped from rushing towards the Rhine. Napoleon had to go with the current. It was the hugest blunder of the ages. The French army was in no condition for such v/ork. Prussia was. Von Moltke, the engineer of armies, and Bismarck, the master-thinker of Europe, guided the councils of WiJliam, who knew how to take advice; and all of them, backed by fifty millions of other Germans, wqtq ready for this unfortunate dash of France. xy. This volcano is too recent to need any description. It taught, France a great lesson, from which she will probably learn little or nothing ; but she is too brave and gallant a nation to let one unfortunate campaign extinguish her courage. Her battle scrolls of victory outnumber Germany's for two thousand years. Sometime or other this unexpected series of defeats of the French armies will be fully explained. It may be said now, perhaps, that we see something of it, in a few facts : Germany had been long preparing for this struggle, and was THE COKFLICT WITH GEB3IANY. 635 ready. Slie liad, after the" example of America and Italy, united her people — ail her people — more than half a hundred millions. She had been steadily — with a certainty of rising and setting suns — giving to her children the best system of common education outside of Scotland, Switzerland, and New England. She had also made a ''West Point" out of her ter- ritory, and every able-bodied man in Germany, from all her thrones and princes, down to her peasants, knew what to do in a battle. Her men could all write their names at the bottom of their pay-rolls. Besides, the Germans had not been cor- rupted by a reign of fashionable or imperial frivolity. Instead of following les modes of Paris, they made their own. There was a certain sturdiness about these Germans in their homes, before they left them, and they showed their training, when they crossed the Ehine. Afterwards we are not surprised to hear what happened. XVI. France had not brought up the generation that was to do her fighting then, as well as the Germans had theirs. Thorough, common school education had been neglected. Official reports tell us that only forty-eight per cent, of the soldiers of the French army could sign their names. A generation of French- men had been denied the use of fire-arms at their own dis- cretion, and they could not be expected to handle them so well on a sudden emergency. Personal government had been carried so much further in France than in Germany, that individual- ism had been impaired in France — manhood-citizenship had been weakened. Perhaps some of these things had much to do with the suc- cesses of Germany, and the failure of France. XVII. The destinies of Europe have been affected by St. Petersburg and Washington during the late years, that have threatened ua 636 NAPOLEON III. all. Russia, a strong, vigorous, youthful empire — an empire of men and women not yet effete from the corruptions of an emasculated civilization — felt a natural sympathy with the Republic of the New World. It w^as plain enough that Russia must take care of herself and of Asia, and that we must take care of ourselves and our hemisphere. XVIII. As soon as Alexander heard of our troubles, he sent to Abra- ham Lincoln a letter full of sympathy. Soon after this, his fleet dropped anchor in the harbor of New York. It was well understood that Europe must let our Republic alone, or fight the Russian. The reception given afterwards to Prince Alexia showed what we thought of the conduct of Russia. XIX. Napoleon III. p?ssed into history long before he became the Emperor of France. Since then, as before, his business seemed to be to make history. Historians alone can make it for him now, and it will consist in leaving a record that cannot be blotted out of rare gi-eat- ness, however much it may be dimmed by acts of his own, or the criticism of the future. XX. Few men carried to their fire-sides richer treasures of genius and experience, illuminated by knowledge, than Louis Napo- leon ; nor have many men in high or low stations been blessed with a more gifted and genial wife. The thousand-mouthed scandal of the earth has not yet dared to cast a shadow on the fair fame of that woman who gave her love to her husband in his earlier climbing, and became the mother of his boy in prouder hours, and shed a radiance over his court and empire, and folded the myrtle over his tomb at Chiselhurst. God bless the noble Eugenie, and God bless France. &