,y ^ ■'-•'', dt S r- m IL ^ KI S T K Y OP JOSEPHINE. B7 JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. ^ > e®ftl) ?5nsrabfnfl3. NEW YORK: IIARPEU & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FTIANKLIN SQUARE f /f ^ "- y^ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one tboasftnd eight hundred and fifty -one, by Harper & Brothers, ia *fc« ''Jerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern Diatrui of New York. 4 ft >' A> PREFACE. Maria Antoinette, Madame Roland, and Josephine are the three most prominent hero- ines of the French Revolution. The history of their lives necessarily records all the most interesting events of that most fearful tragedy which man has ever enacted. Maria Antoi- nette beheld the morning dawn of the Revolu- tion ; its lurid mid-day sun glared upon Mad- ame Roland ; and Josephine beheld the porten- tous phenomenon fade away. Each of these heroines displayed traits of character worthy of all imitation. No one can read the history of their lives without being ennobled by the contemplation of the fortitude and grandeur of spirit they evinced. To the young ladies of our land we especially commend the Heroines of the French Revolution. // CONTENTS. Chapter. Pat^ I. LIFE IN MARTINIQUE 13 U^ MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE 31 III. ARREST OF M. BEAUHARNAI3 AND JOSEPHINE 48 IV. SCENES IN PRISON G8 V. THE RELEASE FROM PRISON 81 VI. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY 105 VII. JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON 130 VIII. JOSEPHINE THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL 149 IX. DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER 171 X. THE CORONATION - , 198 XI. JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS , 232 XII. THE DIVORCE AND LAST DATS 285! ENGRAVINGS. Pag. THE SIBYL 24 THE WARNING 58 THE PANTOMIME 85 ISOLA BELLA 109 THE INTERVIEW 15G THE CORONATION 224 JOSEPHINE. Chapter I. I*irt; IN Martinique. Metrtinlque. Its varied beaotiea FT^HE island of Martinique emerges in tropi- -^ cal luxuriance from the bosom of the Ca- ribbean Sea. A meridian sun causes the whole land to smile in perennial verdure, and all the gorgeous flowers and luscious fruits of the torrid zone adorn upland and prairie in boundless pro- fusion. . Mountains, densely wooded, rear their summits sublimely to the skies, and valleys charm the eye with pictures more beautiful than imagination can create. Ocean breezes ever sweep these hills and vales, and temper the heat of a vertical sun. Slaves, whose dusky limbs are scarcely veiled by the lightest cloth- ing, till the soil, while the white inhabitants, supported by the indolent labor of these unpaid menials, loiter away life in listless leisure and in rustic luxury. Far removed from the dissi- 14 Josephine. [A.D. 1760 Birth of Josephine. Her parents' dcatli, pating influences of European and Americaii opulence, they dwell in their secluded island in a state of almost patriarchal simplicity. About the year 1760, a young French officer, Captain Joseph Gaspard Tascher, accompanied his regiment of horse to this island. While here on professional duty, he became attached to a young lady from France, whose parents, formerly opulent, in consequence of the loss of property, had moved to the West Indies to re- trieve their fortunes. But little is known re- specting Mademoiselle de Sanois, this young lady, who was soon married to M. Tascher. Josephine was the only child born of this union In consequence of the early death of her mother, she was, while an infant, intrusted to the care of her aunt. Her father soon after died, and the little orphan appears never to have known a father's or a mother's love. Madame Renaudin, the kind aunt, who novr, with maternal affection, took charge of the help- less infant, was a lady of wealth, and of great benevolence of character. Her husband was the owner of several estates, and lived surround* ed by all that plain and rustic profusion which characterizes the abode of the wealthy planter His large possessions, and his energy of charac- A.D. 1765.] Life in Martinique. 15 M. Renaudin. His kind treatment of his slaves. ter, gave liim a wide influence over the island. He was remarkable for his humane treatment of his slaves, and for the successful manner with which he conducted the affairs of his plantations. The general condition of the slaves of Martin- ico at this time was very deplorable ; but on the plantations of M. Renaudin there was as perfect a state of contentment and of happiness as is consistent with the deplorable institution of slavery. The slaves, many of them but re- cently torn from their homes in Africa, were necessarily ignorant, degraded, and supersti- tious. They knew nothing of those more ele- vated and refined enjoyments which the culti- vated mind so highly appreciates, but which are so often also connected Ynth. the most exquisite suffering. Josephine, in subsequent life, gave a very vivid description of the wretchedness of the slaves in general, and also of the peace and harmony which, in striking contrast, cheered the estates of her uncle. When the days' tasks were done, the negroes, constitutionally light- hearted and merry, gathered around their cab- ins with songs and dances, often prolonged late into the hours of the night. They had never known any thing better than their present lot. They compared their condition with that of the 16 Josephine. [A.D. 1765. Gratitude of the slaves, Josephine a universal favorit« slaves on the adjoining plantations, and exulted in view of their own enjoyments. M. and Mad- ame R-enaudin often visited their cabins, spoke words of kindness to them in their hours of sickness and sorrow, encouraged the formation of pure attachments and honorable marriage among the young, and took a lively interest in their sports. The slaves loved their kind mas- ter and mistress most sincerely, and manifested their affection in a thousand simple ways which touched the heart. Josephine imbibed from infancy the spirit of her uncle and aunt. She always spoke to the slaves in tones of kindness, and became a uni- versal favorite with all upon the plantations. She had no playmates but the little negroes, and she united with them freely in all their sports. Still, these little ebon children of bond- age evidently looked up to Josephine as to a superior being. She was the queen around whom they circled in affectionate homage. The instinctive faculty, which Josephine displayed through life, of winning the most ardent lovo of all who met her, while, at the same time, she was protected from any undue familiarity, she seems to have possessed even at that aarly day. The children, who were her companions in aW A.D. 1765.] Life in Martinique. 17 Hospitality of M. Renaudin. Society at his house, the sports of childhood, were also dutiful subjects ever ready to be obedient to her will. The social position of M. Renaudin, as one of the most opulent and influential gentlemen of Martinique, necessarily attracted to his hos- pitable residence much refined and cultivated society. Strangers from Europe visiting the island, planters of intellectual tastes, and ladies of polished manners, met a cordial welcome be- neath the spacious roof of this abode, where all abundance was to be found. Madame Henau- din had passed her early years in Paris, and her manners were embellished with tliat elegance and refinement which have given to Parisian society such a world-wide celebrity. There was, at that period, much more intercourse be- tween the mother country and the colonies than at the present day. Thus Josephine, though reared in a provincial home, was accustomed, from infancy, to associate with gentlemen and ladies who were familiar with the etiquette of the highest rank in society, and whose conver- sation was intellectual and improving. It at first view seems difficult to account for the high degree of mental culture which Jo- sephine dis])layed, when, seated by the side of Napoleon, she was the Empress of Franco B 18 Josephine. [A.D. 1705. Ear}/ education of Josephine. Her accomplishments Her remarks, her letters, her conversational ele- gance, gave indication of a mind thoroughly furnished with information and trained by se- vere discipline. And yet, from all the glimpses we can catch of her earlv education, it would seem that, with the exception of the accomplish- ments of music, dancing, and drawing, she was loft very much to the guidance of her own in- stinctive tastes. But, like Madame Roland, she was blessed with that peculiar mental con- stitution, which led her, of her own accord, to treasure up all knowledge which books or con- versation brought within her reach. From childhood until the hour of her death, she was ever improving her mind by careful observation and studious reading. She played upon the harp with great skill, and sang with a voice of exquisite melody. She also read with a correct- ness of elocution and a fervor of feeling which ever attracted admiration. The morning of her childhood was indeed bright and sunny, and her gladdened heart became so habituated to joyousness, that her cheerful spirit seldom failed her even in the darkest days of her calamity. Her passionate love for flowers had interested her deeply in the study of botany, and she also became very skillful in embroidery, that accojn- A.D 1765.] Life in Martinique. 19 Eupbemie. She becomes Josepbint'a bosom companioiv plishment which was once deemed an essential part of the education of every lady. Under such influences Josephine became a child of such grace, beauty, and loveliness of character as to attract the attention and the e^dmiration of all who saw her. There was an dfFectionatenesS) simplicity, and frankness in her manners which won all hearts. Her most in- timate companion in these early years was a young mulatto girl, the daughter of a slave, and report said, with how much truth it is impossi- ble to know, that she was also the daughter of Captain Tascher before his marriage. Her name was Euphemie. She was a year or two older than Josephine, but she attached herself with deathless affection to her patroness; and, though Josephine made her a companion and a confidante, she gradually passed, even in these early years, into the position of a maid of honor, and clung devotedly to her mistress through all the changes of subsequent life. Josephine, at this time secluded from all companionship with young ladies of her own rank and age, made this humble but active-minded and intelligent girl her bosom companion. They rambled to- gether, the youthful mistress and her maid, in perfect harmony. From Josephine's more high- 20 Josephine. [A.D, 1770 Popularity of Josephine. Cliildhood enjoyments ly-cultivated mind the lowly-born child derived intellectual stimulus, and thus each day became a more worthy and congenial associate. As years passed on, and Josephine ascended into higher regions of splendor, her humble attend- ant gradually retired into more obscure posi- tions, though she was ever regarded by her true- hearted mistress with great kindness. Josephine was a universal favorite with all the little negro girls of the plantation. They looked up to her as to a protectress whom they loved, and to whom they owed entire liomage. She would frequently collect a group of them under the shade of the luxuriant trees of that tropical island, and teach them the dances which she had learned, and also join with them as a partner. She loved to assemble them around her, and listen to those simple negro melodies which penetrate every heart which can feel the power of music. Again, all their voices, in sweet harmony, blended with hers as she taught them the more scientific songs of Europe. She would listen with unaffected interest to their tales of sorrow, and weep with them. Often she inter- posed in their behalf that their tasks might be lightened, or that a play-day might be allow^ed them. Thus she was as much beloved and ad* A.D. 1770.] Life in Mar riNiQUK; 21 Characteristic traits. Ths fortune-teller mired in the cabin of the poor negro as she was in her uncle's parlor, where intelligence and re- finement were assembled. This same charac- ter she displayed through the whole of her oa- roer. Josephine upon the plantation and Jo- sephine upon the throne — Josephine surrounded by the sable maidens of Martinique, and Jo- sephine moving in queenly splendor in the pal- aces of Versailles, with all the courtiers of Eu- rope revolving around her, displayed the same traits of character, and by her unaffected kind- ness won the hearts alike of the lowly and of the exalted. About this time an occurrence took place which has attracted far more attention than it deserves. Josephine was one day walking under the shade of the trees of the plantation, when she saw a number of negro children gathered around an aged and withered negrese, who had great reputation among the slaves as a fortune-teller. Curiosity induced Josephine to draw near the group to hear what the sorcer- ess had to say. The eld sibyl, with the cunning which is characteristic of her craft, as soon as «he saw Josephine approach, whom she knew perfectly, assumed an air of great agitation, and, seizing her hand violently, gazed with mOvS/ 22 Josephine. [A.D. 1772 Predictions of the sibyl. Credulity earnest attention upon the lines traced upon the palm. The little negresses were perfectly awe« stricken by this oracular display. Josephine, however, was only amused, and smiling, said, " So you discover something very extraordi- nary in my destiny ?" "Yes!" replied the negress, with an air of great solemnity. " Is happiness or misfortune to be my lot ?" Josephine inquired. The negress again gazed upon her hand, and then replied, " Misfortune ;" but, after a mo- ment's pause, she added, " and happiness too." " You must be careful, my good woman," Josephine rejoined, " not to commit yourself. Your predictions are not very intelligible." The negress, raising her eyes with an expres- sion of deep mystery to heaven, rejoined, " I am not permitted to render my revelations more clear." In every human heart there is a vein of ere™ dulity. The pretended prophetess had now suc- ceeded in fairly arousing the curiosity of Jose- phine, who eagerly inquired, "What do you read respecting me in futurity ? Tell me ex- actly." Again the negress, assuming an air of pro* A.D 1772.J Life in Martinique. 25 More predictions. Their fulfillment found solemnity, said, '' You will not believe me if I reveal to you your strange destiny." "Yes, indeed, I assure you that I will," Jo- sephine thoughtlessly replied. '' Come, good mother, do tell me what I have to hope and what to fear." "On your own head be it, then. Listen. You will soon be married. That union will not bo happy. You will become a widow, and then you w^ill be Queen of France. Some happy years will be yours, but afterward you will die in a hospital, amid civil commotions." The old woman then hurried away. Jose- phine talked a few moments with the young ne- groes upon the folly of this pretended fortune- telling, and leaving them, the affair passed from her mind. In subsequent years, when toiling through the vicissitudes of her most eventful life, she recalled the singular coincidence be- tween her destiny and the prediction, and seemed to consider that the negress, with pro- phetic vision, had traced out her wonderful ca- reer. But what is there so extraordinary in this narrative ? What maiden ever consulted a fortune-teller without receivins^ the ac^reeable announcement that she was to wed beauty, and 26 Josephine. [A D. 1772 Explanations t« the predictions. How fulfilled wealth, and rank '' It was known universally, and it was a constant subject of plantation gos- sip, that the guardians of Josephine were con. templating a match for her with the son of a neighboring planter. The negroes did not think him half worthy of their adored and queenly Jo* sephine. They supposed, however, that the match was settled. The artful woman was therefore compelled to allow Josephine to marry at first the undistinguished son of the planter, with whom she could not be happy. She, how- ever, very considerately lets the unworthy hus- band in a short time die, and then Josephine becomes a queen. This is the old story, which has been repeated to half the maidens in Chris- tendom. It is not very surprising that in this one case it should have happened to prove true. But, unfortunately, our prophetess went a lit- tle farther, and predicted that Josephine would die in a hospital — implying pDverty and aban- donment. This part of the prediction proved to be utterly untrue. Josephine, instead of dying in a hospital, died in the beautiful palace ofMal- maison. Instead of dying in poverty, she was one of the richest ladies in Europe, receiving an income of some six hundred thousand dollars a year. The grounds around her palace were A..D. 1772.] Life in Martinique. 27 Falsity of the prediction. Contemplated match embellished with all the attractions, and her apartments furnished with every luxury which opulence could provide. Instead of dying in friend lessness and neglect, the Emperor Alex- ander of Russia stood at her bedside ; the most illustrious kings and nobles of Europe crowded her court and did her homage. And though she was separated from her husband, she still retained the title of Empress, and was the ob- ject of his most sincere affection and esteem. Thus this prediction, upon which so much stress has been laid, seems to vanish in the air It surely is not a supernatural event that a young lady, who was told by an aged negress that she would be a queen, happened actually to become one. We have alluded to a contemplated match between Josephine and the son of a neighbor- ing planter. An English family, who had lost property and rank in the convulsions of those times, had sought a retreat in the island of Mar- tinique, and were cultivating an adjoining plan- tation. In this family there was a very pleas- ant lad, a son, of nearly the same age with Jo- sephine. The plantations being near to each other, they were often companions and play- mates. A strong attachment grew up between 28 Josephine. [A.D.1775 Attachment between Josephin 3 and "William. Their separation fchem. The parents of William, and the uncle and aunt of Josephine, approved cordially of this attachment, and were desirous that these youth- ful hearts should be united, as soon as the parties Bhould arrive at mature age. Josephine, in the ingenuous artlessness of her nature, disguised not in the least her strong affection for William. And his attachment to her was deep and endur- ing. The solitude of their lives peculiarly tend- ed to promote fervor of character. Matters were in this state, when the father of William received an intimation from England that, by returning to his own country, he might, perhaps, regain his lost estates. He immedi- ately prepared to leave the island with his fam- ily. The separation was a severe blow to these youthful lovers. They wept, and vowed eternal fidelity. It is not surprising that Josephine should have been in some degree superstitious. The peculiarity of her life upon the plantation — her constant converse with the negroes, whose minds were imbued with all the superstitious notions which they had brought from Africa, united with those which they had found upon the isl- and, tended to foster those feelings. Rousseau, the most popular and universally-read French A.D. 1774.] Life in Martinique. 29 Rosseau throwing stones. Josephino's supcrstitin:^ writer of that day, in his celebrated *' Confes- sions," records with perfect composure that he was one day sitting in a grove, meditating whether his soul would probably be saved oi lost. He felt that the question was of the ut- most importance. How could he escape from the uncertainty ! A supernatural voice seemed to suggest an appeal to a singular kind of au- gury. " I will," said he, " throw this stone at that tree. If I hit the tree, it shall be a sign that my soul is to be saved. If I miss it, it shall indicate that I am to be lost." He select- ed a large tree, took the precaution of getting very near to it, and threw his stone plump against the trunk. " After that," says the philosopher, " I never again had a doubt re- specting my salvation." Josephine resorted to the same kind of au- gury to ascertain if William, who had become a student in the University at Oxford, still re- mained faithfal to her. She not unfrequently attempted to beguile a weary hour in throwing pebbles at the trees, that she might divine whether William were then thinking of her. Months, however, passed away, and she re- ceived no tidings from him. Though she had often written, her letters remained unanswered. 30 Josephine. [A.D. 1775 Deception of friends. Mutual fidelity Her feelings were the more deeply wounded, since there were other friends upon the island with whom he kept up a correspondence ; but Josephine never received even a message through them. One day, as she was pensively rambling in a ^rove, where she had often walked with her ab- sent lover, she found carved upon a tree the names of William and Josephine. She knew well by whose hand they had been cut, and, en- tirely overcome with emotion, she sat down and wept bitterly. With the point of a knife, and with a trembling hand, she inscribed in the bark these words, peculiarly characteristic of her depth of feeling, and of the gentleness of hei spirit : " Unhappy William I thou hast forgot- ten me I" William, however, had not forgotten her. /Vgain and again he had written in terms of the most ardent affection. But the friends of Tosephine, meeting with an opportunity for a .natch for her which they deemed far more ad- vantageous, had destroyed these communica- tions, and also had prevented any of her letters from reaching the hand of William. Thus each, while cherishing the truest affection, deemed the other faithless. A D. 1775.] Marriage of Josephine. 01 Alexander de Beauhamais. Hia characser Chapter 1 1. The Marriage of Josephine. rOSEPHINE was about fourteen years of "^ age when she was separated from William A year passed away, during which she received not a line from her absent friend. About this time a gentleman from France visited her uncle upon business of great importance. Viscount Alexander de Beauharnais was a fashionable and gallant young man, about thirty years of age, possessing much conversational ease and grace of manner, and accustomed to the most polished society of the French metropolis. He held a commission in the army, and had already signalized himself by several acts of bravery. His sympathies had been strongly aroused by the struggle of the American colonists with the mother country, and he had already aided the colonists both with his sword and his purse. Several large and valuable estates in Mar- tinique, adjoining the plantation of M. Renau- din, had fallen by inheritance to this young offi- Rer and his brother, the Marqui.« of Beauhar- 32 Josephine. [A.D. 1775 A new suitor. Motives for the marriage nais. He visited Martinique to secure the proof of his title to these estates. M. Renaudin held some of these plantations on lease. In the transaction of this business, Beauharnais spent much time at the mansion of M. Renaudin. He, of course, saw much of the beautiful Jo- sephine, and was fascinated with her grace, and ner mental and physical loveliness. The uncle and aunt of Josephine were delight- ed to perceive the interest which their niece had awakened in the bosom of the interesting stran- ger. His graceful figure, his accomplished per- son, his military celebrity, his social rank, and his large fortune, all conspired to dazzle their eyes, and to lead them to do every thing in their power to promote a match apparently so eligi- ble. The ambition of M. Renaudin was moved at the thought of conferring upon his niece, the prospective heiress of his own fortune, an estate so magnificent as the united inheritance. Jose- phine, however, had not yet forgotten William, and, though interested in her uncle's guest, for some time allowed no emotion of love to flow out toward him. One morning Josephine was sitting in the library in pensive musings, when her uncle came into the room to open to her the subject of her A.D. 1775.] Marriage of Josephine. 3b 51ie announcement Feelings of Josephine, contemplated marriage with M. Beauharnais, Josephine was thunderstruck at the communi- cation, for, according to the invariable custom of the times, she knew that she could have but little voice in the choice of a partner for life. For a short time she listened in silence to his proposals, and then said, with tears in her eyes, " Dear uncle, I implore you to remember that my affections are fixed upon William. I have been solemnly promised to him." " That is utterly impossible, my child," her uncle replied. ''Circumstances are changed. All our hopes are pentered in you. You must obey our wishes." " And v*^hy," said she, " have, you changed your intentions in reference to William ?" Her uncle replied : " You will receive by in- heritance all my estate. M. Beauharnais pos- sesses the rich estates adjoining. Your union unites the property. M. Beauharnais is ev- ery thing which can be desired in a husband. Besides, William appears to have forgotten you." To this last remark Josephine could make no reply. She looked sadly upon the floor and Was silent. It is said that her uncle had then in his possession several letters which William r 34 Josephine. [A.D 1775. Zeal of M. Beauharnais. The engagement had written her, replete with the most earnest spirit of constancy and affection. Josephine, but fifteen years of age, could not. under these circumstances, resist the influences now brought to bear upon her. M. Beauhar- nais was a gentleman of fascinating ac(}omplish- ments. The reluctance of Josephine to become his bride but stimulated his zeal to obtain her. In the seclusion of the plantation, and far re- moved from other society, she was necessarily with him nearly at all hours. They read to gether, rode on horseback side by side, rambled in the groves in pleasant companionship. They floated by moonlight upon the water, breathing the balmy air of that delicious clime, and unit- ing their voices in song, the measure being timed with the dipping of the oars by the ne- groes. The friends of Josephine were importu- nate for the match. At last, reluctantly she gave her consent. Having done this, she al- lowed her aflfections, unrestrained, to repose upon her betrothed. Though her heart still clung to William, she thought that he had found other friends in England, in whose pleasant com- panionship he had lost all remembrance of the island maiden who had won his early love. Alexander Beauharnais, soon after liis en- A.D. 1775.] Marriage of Josephine. So Departure from Martinique. Paiting sccnei. gagement to Josephine, embarked for France. Arrangements had been made for Josephine, in the course of a few months, to follow him, upon a visit to a relative in Paris, and there the nup- tials were to be consummated. Josephine was now fifteen years of age. She was attached to Beauharnais, but not with that fervor of feel- ing which had previously agitated her heart. She often thought of William and spoke of him, and at times had misgivings lest there might be some explanation of his silence. But months had passed on, and she had received no letter or message from him. At length the hour for her departure from the island arrived. With tearful eyes and a sad- dened heart she left the land of her birth, and the scenes endeared to her by all the recollec- tions of childhood. Groups of negroes, from the tottering infant to the aged man of gray hairs, surrounded her with weeping and loud lamentation. Josephine hastened on board, the ship got under way, and soon the island of Martinique disappeared beneath the watery hor. izon. Josephine sat upon the deck in perfect silence, watching the dim outline of her beloved home till it was lost to sight. Her young heart was full of anxietyj of tenderness, and of regrets. S6 Josephine. |A.D. 1775 Josephine's arrival in France. Her interview with WilliaJH Little, however, could she imagine the career of strange vicissitudes upon which she was about to enter. The voyage was long and tempestuous. Storms pursued them all the way. At one time the ship was dismasted and came near foundering. At length the welcome cry of " Land" was heard, and Josephine, an unknovv^n orphan child of fifteen, placed her feet upon the shores of France, that country over which she was soon to reign the most renowned empress. She hastened to Fontainebleau, and was there met by Alexander Beauharnais. He received her with great fondness, and was assiduous in bestowing upon her the most flattering atten- tions. But Josephine had hardly arrived at Fon- tainebleau before she heard that William and his father were also residing at that place. Her whole frame trembled like an aspen leaf, and her heart sunk within her as she received the intelligence. All her long-cherished affection for the companion of her childhood was revived, and still she knew not but that William was faithless. He, however, immediately called, with his father, to see her. The interview was most embarrassing, for each loved the other in- tensely, and each had reason to believe that th^ A.D. 1775.] Marriage op Josephine. 37 Explnnation of William. Distress of Josephine. other had proved untrue. The next day Will- iam called alone ; Josephine, the betrothed brido of Beauharnais, prudently declined seeing him He then wrote her a letter, which he bribed a servant to place in her hands, full of protesta tions of love, stating how he had written to her, and passionately inquiring why she turned so coldly from him. Josephine read the letter with a bursting heart. She now saw how she had been de- ceived. She now was convinced that William had proved faithful to her, notwithstanding he had so much reason to believe that she had been untrue to him. But what could she do ? She was but fifteen years of age. She was sur- rounded only by those wdio were determined that she should marry Alexander Beauharnais. She was told that the friends of William had decided unalterably that he should marry an English heiress, and that the fortunes of his father's family were dependent upon that alli- ance. The servant who had been the bearer of William's epistle was dismissed, and the other servants were commanded not to allow him to enter the house. The agitation of Josephine's heart was such that for some time she was unable to leave hcJ 3b Josephine. [^.D. 1775. Josephine retires to a convent. She marries the Viscount Beauhamaia, bed. She entreated her friends to allow her for a few months to retire to a convent, that she might, iii solitary thought and prayer, regain composure. Her friends consented to this ar- rangement, and she took refuge in the convent at Panthemont. Here she spent a few months in inexpressible gloom. William made many unavailing efforts to obtain an interview, and at last, in despair, reluctantly received the wealthy bride, through whom he secured an immense inheritance, and with whom he passed an unloving life. The Viscount Beauharnais often called to see her, and was permitted to converse with her at the gate of her window. In the simplicity of her heart, she told her friends at the convent of her attachment for William ; how they had been reared together, and how they had loved from childhood. She felt that it was a cruel fate which separated them, but a fate before which each must inevitably bow. At last she calmly made up her mind to comply witli the wishes of her friends, and to surrender herself to the Viscount Beauharnais. There was much in the person and character of Beauharnais to render him very attractive, and she soon be- came sincerely, though, never oassionately, at- tached to him. A.D. 1777.] Marriage of Josephine. 39 Fashionable life. Josephine is introduced at court Josephine was sixteen years of age when she was married. Her social position was in the midst of the most expensive and fashionable so- ciety of Paris. She was immediately involved in all the excitements of parties, and balls, and gorgeous entertainments. Her beauty, her grace, her amiability, and her peculiarly musi- cal voice, which fell like a charm upon every ear, excited great admiration and not a little envy. It was a dangerous scene into which to intro- duce the artless and inexperienced Creole girl, and she was not a little dazzled by the splen- dor with which she was surrounded. Every thing that could minister to convenience, or that could gratify taste, was lavished profusely around her. For a time she was bewildered by the novelty of her situation. But soon she be- came weary of the heartless pageantry of fash- ionable life, and sighed for the tranquil enjoy- ments of her island home. Her husband, proud of her beauty and ac- complishments, introduced her at court. Maria Antoinette, who had then just ascended the throne, and was in the brilliance of her youth, and beauty, and early popularity, was charmed v-'ith the West Indian bride, and received her Mlithout the formality of a public presentation. 40 Josephine. [A.D. 1778 Maria Antoinette and Josephine. French philosophy When these two young brides met in the rega] palace of Versailles — the one a daughter of Ma- ria Theresa and a descendant of the Csesars^ who had come from the court of Austria tc be not only the queen, but the brightest ornament of the court of France — the other the child of a planter, born upon an obscure island, reared in the midst of negresses, as almost her only companions — little did they imagine that Maria Antoinette was to go down, down, down to the lowest state of ignominy and wo, while Jose- phine was to ascend to more and more exalted stations, until she should sit upon a throne more glorious than the Csesars ever knew. French philosophy had at this time under- mined the religion of Jesns Christ. All that is sacred in the domestic relations was withering beneath the blight of infidelity. Beauharnais, a man of fashion and of the world, had imbibed, to the full, the sentiments which disgraced the age. Marriage was deemed a partnership, to be formed or dissolved at pleasure. Fidelity to the nuptial tie was the jest of philosophers and witlings. Josephine had soon the mortification of seeing a proud, beautiful, and artful woman taking her place, and openly and triumphantly claiming the attentions and tho affections of he* A..D. 1780.] PvIarriage of Josephine 41 Birth of a daughter. Infidelity of Bcauharnnis husband. This woman, high in rank, loved to torture her poor victim. "Your dear Alexan- der," she said to Josephine, ''daily lavishes upon others the tribute of attachment which you think he reserves solely for you." She could not bear to see the beautiful and virtuous Josephine nappy, as the honored wife of her guilty lover, and she resolved, if possible, to sow the seeds of jealousy so efTectually between them as to secure a separation. In the year 1780 Josephine gave birth to hei daughter Hortense. This event seemed for a time to draw back the wandering affections of Beauharnais. He was really proud of his wife. He admired her beauty and her grace. He doted upon his infant daughter. But he was an infidel. He recognized no law of God, com- manding purity of heart and life, and he con- tended that Josephine had no right to complain, as long as he treated her kindly, if he did in- dulge in the waywardness of passion. The path of Josephine was now, indeed, shrouded in gloom, and each day seemed to grow darker and darker. Hortense became her idol and her only comfort. Her husband lav- ished upon her those luxuries which his wealth enabled him to grant. He was kind to her in 42 Josephine. [A.D. 1780. Birth of a son. An arch, deceher. words and in all the ordinary courtesies of in- tercourse. But Josephine's heart was well-nigh broken. A few years of conflict passed slowly away, when she gave birth, in the year 1783, to her son Eugene. In the society of her chil- dren the unhappy mother found now her only solace. While the Viscount Beauharnais was ready to defend his own conduct, he was by no means willing that his wife should govern herself by the same principles of fashionable philosophy. The code infidel is got up for the especial ben- efit of dissolute men ; their wives must be gov- erned by another code. The artful woman, who was the prime agent in these difficulties, affected great sympathy with Josephine in her sorrows, protested her own entire innocence^ but assured her that M. Beauharnais was an in- grate, entirely unworthy of her affections. She deceived Josephine, hoarded up the confid,ence of her stricken heart, and conversed with her about William^ the memory of whose faithful love now came with new freshness to the dis- consolate wife. Josephine, lured by her, wrote a letter to her frien Is in Martinique, in which she imprudently said, "Were it not for my children, I should, A..D. 1783.] Marriage of Josephine. 43 Josephine betrayed. Application for a divorce without a pang, renounce France forever. My duty requires me to forget William ; and yet, if we had been united together, I should not to- day have been troubling you with my griefs." The woman who instigated her to write this letter was infamous enough to obtain it by stealth and show it to Beauharnais. His jeal- ousy and indignation were immediately aroused to the highest pitch. He was led by this ma- licious deceiver to believe that Josephine had obtained secret interviews with William, and the notoriously unfaithful husband was exas- perated to the highest degree at the very sus- picion of the w^ant of fidelity in his wife. Ho reproached her in language of the utmost se- verity, took Eugene from her, and resolved to endeavor, by legal process, to obtain an entire divorce. She implored him, for the sake of her children, not to proclaim their difficulties to the world. He, however, reckless of consequences, made application to the courts for the annul- ment of the matrimonial bond. Josephine was now compelled to defend her own character. She again retired with Hortense to the convent^ and there, through dreary months of solitude, and silence, and dejection, awaited the result of the trial unon which her reputation as a vir- 44 Josephine. [A.D. 1784, Josephine txiumpliant. Visit to Versailles tuous woman was staked. The decree of the court was triumphantly in her favor, and Jo- sephine returned to her friends to receive their congratulations, but impressed with the convic- tion that earth had no longer a joy in store for her. Her friends did all in their power to cheer her desponding spirit ; but the wound she had received was too deep to be speedily healed. One day her friends, to divert her mind from brooding over irreparable sorrows, took her, al- most by violence, to Versailles. They passed over the enchanting grounds, and through the gorgeously-furnished apartments of the Great and Little Trianon, the favorite haunts of Ma- ria Antoinette. Here the beautiful Queen of France was accustomed to lay aside the pa- geantry of royalty, and to enjoy, without re- straint, the society of those who were dear to her. Days of darkness and trouble had already begun to darken around her path. As Jose- phine was looking at some of the works of art, she was greatly surprised at the entrance of the queen, surrounded by several ladies of her court. Maria Antoinette immediately recognized Jo- sephine, and with that air of affability and kind- ness which ever characterized her conduct, she approached her, and, with one of her winning A.D. 1784.] Mar;iiage of Josephine, 45 luterview with Maria Antoinette. Kindness of tlie queen smiles, said, " Madame Beauharnais, I am very happy to see you at the two Trianons. You well know how to appreciate their beauties. I should be much pleased to learn what objects you consider most interesting. I shall always receive you with pleasure." These words from the queen were an un- speakable solace to Josephine. Her afflicted heart needed the consolation. The queen was acquainted with her trials, and thus nobly as- sured her of her sympathy and her confidence. In a few days Maria Antoinette invited Jose- phine to a private interview. She addressed her in words of the utmost kindness, promised to watch over the interests of her son, and at the same time, as a mark of her especial regard, she took from her neck an antique ornament of precious stones, and passed it over the neck of Josephine. The king also himself came in at the interview, for his heart had been softened by sorrow, and addressed words of consolation to the injured and discarded wife. Josephine now received letters from Marti- nique earnestly entreating her to return, with her children, to the home of her childhood. World-weary, she immediately resolved to ac- cept the invitation. But the thought of cross- 46 Josephine. [A.D. 1784 Josephine embarks for Maitinique. Hours of despondency ing the wide ocean, and leaving her son Eugene behind, was a severe pang to a mother's heart. Eugene had been taken from her and sent to a boarding-school. Josephine felt so deeply tho pang of separation from her beloved child, that she obtained an interview with M. Beanharnais, and implored him to allow her to take Eugene v;"ith her. He gave a cold and positive refusal. A few days after this, Josephine, cruelly sep- arated from her husband and bereaved of her son, embarked with Hortense for Martinique. She strove to maintain that aspect of cheerful- ness and of dignity which an injured but inno- cent woman is entitled to exhibit. When dark hours of despondency overshadowed her, she tried to console herself with the beautiful thought of Plautus : " If we support adversity with cour- age, we shall have a keener relish for returning prosperity." It does not appear that she had any refuge in the consolations of religion. She had a vague and general idea of the goodness of a superintending Providence, but she was apparently a stranger to those warm and glow- ing revelations of Christianity which introduce us to a sympathizing Savior, a guiding and con- soling Spii'it, a loving and forgiving Father. Could she then, by faith, have reposed her acli- A..D. 1785.] Marriage of Josephine. 47 Josephine arrives at Martinique. Her kind reception. ing head upon the bosom of her heavenly Fa- ther, she might have found a solace such as nothing else could confer. But at this time nearly every mind in France was more or less 'darkened by the glooms of infidelity. The winds soon drove her frail bark across the Atlantic, and Josephine, pale and sorrow- stricken, was clasped in the arms and folded to the hearts of those who truly loved her. The affectionate negroes gathered around her, with loud demonstrations of their sympathy and their joy in again meeting their mistress. Here, amid the quiet scenes endeared to her by the recollections of childhood, she found a tempo- rary respite from those storms by which she had been so severely tossed upon life's wild and tempestuous ocean 48 Josephine. [A.D 1786. aadnoss of Josephine. Dissipation of Beauhamaia Chapter III. Arrest of M. Beauharnais and Jose- phine. TOSEPHINE remained in Martinique three ^ years. She passed her time in tranquil sad- ness, engaged in reading, in educating Hortense, and in unwearied acts of kindness to those around her. Like all noble minds, she had a great fond- ness for the beauties of nature. The luxuriant groves of the tropics, the serene skies which overarched her head, the gentle zephyrs which breathed through orange groves, all were con- genial with her pensive spirit. The thought of Eugene, her beautiful boy, so far from her, preyed deeply upon her heart. Often she re- tired alone to some of those lonely walks which she loved so well, and wept over her alienated husband and her lost child. M. Beauharnais surrendered himself for a time, without restraint, to every indulgence. He tried, in the society of sin and shame, to forget his wife and his absent daughter. He, however, soon found that no friend can take the place of a virtuous and an affectionate wife. A.D.17S6] Arre&t of Be auiiahna.s. 49 Repentance of Bennharnais. Josephine returns to France The memory of Josephine's gentleness, and ten- derness, and love came flooding back upon his heart. He became fully convinced of his in- justice to her, and earnestly desired to have her restored again to him and to his home. He sent communications to Josephine, expressive of his deep regret for the past, promising amend- ment for the future, assuring her of his high appreciation of her elevated and honorable char acter, and imploring her to return with Hor- tense, thus to reunite the divided and sorrow- stricken household. It was indeed a gratifica- tion to Josephine to receive from her husband the acknowledgment that she had never ceased to deserve his confidence. The thought of again pressing Eugene to her bosom filled a mother's heart with rapture. Still, the griefs which had weighed upon her were so heavy, that she con- fessed to her friends that, were it not for the love which she bore Eugene, she would greatly prefer to spend the remnant of her days upou her favorite island. Her friends did every thing in their power to dissuade her from leaving Martinique. But a mother's undying love tri- umphed, and again she embarked for France. In subsequent years, when surrounded by all the splendors of roy9.1ty, she related to some D 50 Josephine. [A.I).1786. y , ,^ The jewels. Anecdote of the old 8hoe& )f the ladies of her court, with that unaffected simplicity which ever marked her character, the following incident, which occarred during this voyage. The ladies were admiring some brilliant jewels which were spread out before them. Josephine said to them, *' My young friends, believe me, splendor does not consti- tute happiness. I at one time received greater enjoyment from the gift of a pair of old shoes than all these diamonds have ever afforded me." The curiosity of her auditors was, of course, greatly excited, and they entreated her to ex- plain her meaning. "Yes, young ladies," Josephine continued, " of all the presents I ever received, the one which gave me the greatest pleasure was a pair of old shoes, and those, too, of coarse leather When I last returned to France from Marti- nique, having separated from my first husband, I was far from rich. The passage-money ex- hausted my resources, and it was not without difficulty that I obtained the indispensable re« quisites for our voyage. Hortense, obliging and lively, performing with much agility the dances of the negroes, and singing their songs with surprising correctness, greatly amused the sail^ ors, who, from being her constant play-fellows, A.D.1786.] Arrest of Beauharnais 51 Uortcn^e without shoes. The kind old sailor. had become her favorite society. An old sailot became particularly attached to the child, and she doted upon the old man. What with run- ning, leaping, and walking, my daughter's slight shoes wore fairly w^orn out. Knowing that she had not another pair, and fearing I would for- bid her going upon deck, should this defect in her attire be discovered, Hortense carefully con- cealed the disaster. One day I experienced the distress of seeing her return from the deck leav- ing every foot-mark in blood. When examin- ing how matters stood, I found her shoes lit- erally in tatters, and her feet dreadfully torn by a nail. We were as yet not more than half way across the ocean, and it seemed impossible to procure another pair of shoes. I felt quite overcome at the idea of the sorrow my poor Hor- tense would suffer, as also at the danger to which her health might be exposed by confinement in my miserable little cabin. At this moment our good friend, the old sailor, entered and inquired the cause of our distress. Hortense, sobbing all the while, eagerly informed him that she could no more go upon deck, for her shoes were worn out, and mamma had no others to give her. 'Nonsense,' said the worthy seaman, 'is that all ? I have an old pair somewhere in mv 52 Josephine. 1AD.1786 The shoes made. Eventful life of IIorteESQ. chest ; I will go and seek them. You, madam can cut them to shape, and I will, splice them up as well as need be.' Without waiting for a reply, away hastened the kind sailor in search of his old shoes ; these he soon after brought to us with a triumphant air, and they were re- ceived by Hortense with demonstrations of tho most lively joy. We set to work with all zeal, and before the day closed my daughter could resume her delightful duties of supplying their evening's diversion to the crew. I again repeat, never was present received with greater thank- fulness. It has since often been matter of self- reproach that I did not particularly inquire into the name and history of our benefactor. It would have been gratifying for me to have done something for him when afterward means were in my power." Poor Hortense ! most wonderful were the vi- cissitudes of her checkered and joyless life. We here meet her, almost an infant, in poverty and obscurity. The mother and child arrive in Par- is on the morning of that Reign of Terror, tho story of which has made the ear of humanity to tingle. Hortense is deprived of both her par- ents, and is left in fri endlessness and beggary in the streets of Paris. A charitable neighbor A.D.1786.] Arrest of Beauharnais. 5S Marriage of Hortense. Queen of Holland. cherished and fed her. Her mother is liberated, and married to Napoleon ; and Hortense, as daughter of the emperor, is surrounded with dazzling splendor, such as earth has seldom wit- nessed. We now meet Hortense, radiant in youthful beauty, one of the most admired and courted in the midst of the glittering throng, which, like a fairy vision, dazzles all eyes in the gorgeous apartments of Versailles and St. Cloud, Her person is adorned with the most costly fabrics and the most brilliant gems which Europe can afford. The nobles and princes of the proudest courts vie with each other for the honor of her hand. She is led to her sumptu- ous bridals by Louis Bonaparte, brother of the emperor ; becomes the spouse of a king, and takes her seat upon the throne of Holland. But in the midst of all this external splendor she is wretched at heart. Not one congenial feeling unites her with the companion to whom she is bound. Louis, weary of regal pomp and con- straint, abdicates the throne, and Hortense be- comes unendurably weary of her pensive and unambitious spouse. They agree to separate ; each to journey along, unattended by the other, the remainder of life's pilgrimage. Hortense Bceks a joyless refuge in a secluded castle, in 54 Josephine. [ A.I). 1786 Dea:h of Hoi-tonse. Meeting of Josephine and Beauharnala one of the most retired valleys of Switzerland. The tornado of counter-revolution sweeps ovei Europe, and all her exalted friends and tower- ing hopes are prostrated in the dust. Linger ing years of disappointment and sadness pass over her, and old age, with its infirmities, places her upon a dying bed. One only child, Louis Napoleon, since President of the French Repub- lic, the victim of corroding ambition and cease- lessly-gnawing discontent, stands at her bed- side to close her eyes, and to follow her, a soli- tary and lonely mourner, to the grave. The dream of life has passed. The shadow has van- ished away. Who can fathom the mystery of the creation of such a drama ? Josephine arrived in France. She was re- ceived most cordially by her husband. Sorrow- ful experience had taught him the value of a home, and the worth of a pure and a sanctified love. Josephine again folded her idolized Eu- gene in her arms, and the anguish of past years was forgotten in the blissful enjoyments of a re- united family. These bright and happy days were, however, soon again clouded. The French Revolution was now in full career. The king and queen were in prison. All law was pros- trate. M. Beauharnais, at the commeocemeut A.D-1787.] Arrest of Beauharnais. 55 Influential character of Beauhamais. Jacobins and Girondists of the Revolution, had most cordially espoused the cause of popular liberty. He stood by the side of La Fayette a companion and a support- er. His commanding character gave him great influence. He was elected a deputy to the Con- stituent Assembly, and took an active part in its proceedings. Upon the dissolution of this Assembly, or States-General, as it v^^as also calledj as by vote none of its members were im- mediately re-eligible, he retired again to the army ; but when the second or Legislative As- sembly was dissolved and the National Conven- tion was formed, he was returned as a mem- ber, and at two successive sessions was elected its president. The people, having obtained an entire victory over monarchy and aristocracy, beheaded the king and queen, and drove the nobles from the realm. France was now divided into two great parties. The Jacobins were so called from an old cloister in which they at first held their meetings. All of the lowest, most vicious, and the reckless of the nation belonged to this party. They seemed disposed to overthrow all law, hu- man and divine. Marat, Danton, and Robes- pierre were the blood-stained leaders of this wild and furious faction. The Girondists, their 5b JosEPHiiVE. [A.D. 1789 The Jacobins triumphant. Fearful comraotiona opponents, were so called from the department of the Gironde, from which most of the leaders of this party came. They wished for a repub- lic like that of the "United States, where there should be the protection of life, and property, and liberty, with healthy laws sacredly enforced. The conflict between the two parties was long and terrible. The Jacobins gained the victory, and the Girondists were led to the guillotine. M. Beauharnais was an active member of the Girondist party, of which Madame Roland was the soul, and he perished with them. Many of the Girondists sought safety in concealment and retreat. M. Beauharnais, conscious of his political integrity, proudly refused to save his life by turning his back upon his foes. One morning Josephine was sitting in her parlor, in a state of great anxiety in reference to the fearful commotion of the times, when a servant announced that some one wished to speak to her. A young man of very gentle and prepossessing appearance was introduced, with a bag in his hand, in which were several pairs of shoes. "Citizen," said the man to Josephine, "3 understand that you want socks of plum gray.' Josephine looked up in surprise, hardly com A.D. 17S4.] Arrest of Beauiiarnais. 59 The warnlnj». Alarm of Josepliina prehending his meaning, when he approached nearer to her, and, in an under tone, whispered, " I have something to impart to you, madame.' "Explain yourself," she eagerly replied, much, alarmed ; "my servant is faithful." "Ah!" he exclaimed, " my life is at stake in this matter." " Go, Victorine," said Josephine to her serv- ant, " and call my husband." As soon as they were alone, the young man said, " There is not a moment to lose if you would save M. Beauharnais. The Revolution- ary Committee last night passed a resolution to have him arrested, and at this very moment the warrant is making out." " How know you this?" she demanded, trem- bling violently. " I am one of the committee," was the reply, "and, being a shoemaker, I thought these shoes would afford me a reasonable pretext for adver tising you, madame." At this moment M. Beauharnais entered the room, and Josephine, weeping, threw herself into his arms. "You see my husband," shf said to the shoemaker. " I have the honor of knowing him," was the reply. 60 Josephine. [A.D. 1786 Beauhamais proudly refuses to attempt an escape. M. Beauharnais wished to reward the young man on the spot for his magnanimous and per- ilous deed of kindness. The offer was respect- fully but decisively declined. To the earnest entreaties of Josephine and the young man that he should immediately secure his safety by his flight or concealment, he replied, " I will never flee ; with what can they charge me ? I love liberty. I have borne arms for the Revolution." " But you are a noble," the young man re- joined, " and that, in the eye of the Revolution- ists, is a crime — an unpardonable crime. And, moreover, they accuse you of having been a member of the Constitutional Assembly." " That," said M. Beauharnais, " is my most honorable title to glory. Who would not be proud of having proclaimed the rights of tho nation, the fall of despotism, and the reign of laws ?" " What laws !" exclaimed Josephine. " It is in blood they are written." " Madame," exclaimed the philanthropic young Jacobin, with a tone of severity, "when the tree of liberty is planted in an unfriendly 8oil, it must be watered with the blood of its enemies." Then, turning to M. Beauharnais, A.D.1786.] Arrest of Beauharnais. (51 Entreaties of Josephine. Arrest of Eeauhamaic he said, ^'Within an hour it will no lonsrer be possible to escape. I wished to save you, be- cause I believe you innocent. Such was my duty to humanity. But if I am commanded to arrest you — pardon me — I shall do my duty ; and you will acknowledge the patriot." The young shoemaker withdrew, and Jose- phine in vain entreated her husband to attempt his escape. " Whither shall I flee ?" he an- swered. " Is there a vault, a garret, a hiding- place into which the eye of the tyrant Robes- pierre does not penetrate ? We must yield. If I am condemned, how can I escape ? If I am not condemned, I have nothing to fear." About two hours elapsed when three mem- bers of the Revolutionary Committee, accompa- nied by a band of armed men, broke into the house. The young shoemaker was one of this committee, and with firmness, but with much urbanity, he arrested M. Beauharnais. Jose- phine, as her husband was led to prison, was left in her desolated home. And she found herself indeed deserted and alone. No one could then manifest any sympathy with the proscribed without periling life. Josephine's friends, one by one, all abandoned her. The young shoemaker alone, who had arrested hei 62 Josephine. [A.D. 1790. Beneficence of Josephine. Tlie children deceiv-d husband, continued secretly to call with words of sympathy. Josephine made great exertions to obtain the release of her husband, and was also unwearied in her benefactions to multitudes around her who, in those days of lawlessness and of an- guish, were deprived of property, of friends, and of home. The only solace she found in her own grief was in ministering to the consolation of others. Josephine, from the kindest of motives, but very injudiciously, deceived her children in reference to their father's arrest, and led them to suppose that he was absent from home in consequence of ill health. When at last she obtained permission to visit, with her children, her husband in prison, they detected the deceit. After returning from the prison after their first interview, Hortense remarked to her mother that she thought her father's apartment very small, and. the patients very numerous. She appeared for a time very thoughtful, and then inquired of Eugene, with an anxious expression of countenance, " Do you believe that papa is ill ? If he is, it eertainly is not the sickness which the doctors Bure." "What do you mean, my dear child?" askec? A.U. 1790.] Arrest of Josephine. 6d Indiscretions. Arrest of Josephine. Josephine. '' Can you suppose that papa and 1 would contrive between us to deceive you ?" " Pardon me, mamma, but I do think so." "Why, sister," exclaimed Eugene, "how can you say so ?" " Good parents," she replied, " are unques- tionably permitted to deceive their children when they wish to spare them uneasiness. Is it not so, mamma ?" Josephine was not a little embarrassed by this detection, and was compelled to acknowledge that which it was no longer possible to conceal. In the interview which M. Beauharnais held with his wife and his children, he spoke with some freedom to his children of the injustice of his imprisonment. This sealed his doom. List- oners, who were placed in an adjoining room to note down his words, reported the conversation, and magnified it into a conspiracy for the over- throw of the republic. M. Beauharnais was immediately placed in close confinement. Jose» phine herself was arrested and plunged into pris- on, and even the terrified children were rigidly examined by a brutal committee, who, by prom- ises and by threats, did what they could to ex- tort from them some confession which would lead to the conviction of their parents. 64 Josephine. [A.R 1790 Josephine takes leave of her sleeping children. A mother's tears Josephine, the mormng of her arrest, received an anonymous letter, warning her of her dan- ger. It was at an early hour, and her children were asleep in their beds. But how could she escape ? Where could she go ? Should she leave her children behind her — a mother aban- don her children ! Should she take them with her, and thus prevent the possibility of eluding arrest ? Would not her attempt at flight be construed into a confession of guilt, and thus compromise the safety of her husband ? While distracted with these thoughts, she heard a loud knocking and clamor at the outer door of the house. She understood too well the significance of those sounds. With a great effort to retain a tranquil spirit, she passed into the room where her children were sleeping. As she fixed n- 1 eyes upon them, so sweetly lost in slumber, ai.^ thought of the utter abandonment to which they were doomed, her heart throbbed with anguish, and tears, of such bitterness as are seldom shed upon earth, filled her eyes. She bent over hoi daughter, and imprinted a mother's fareweU kiss upon her forehead. The affectionate child though asleep,- clasped her arms around het mother's neck, and, speaking the thoughts of thft dream passing through her mind, said; \.i). 1793,] Arrest OF Josephine. 65 brutality of the soldiers. Josephine dragged to the Carmelitce. '' Come to bed. Fear nothing. They shall not take you away this night. I have prayed to God for you." The turnult in the outer hall continually in- creasing, Josephine, fearful of awaking Hortense and Eugene, cast a last lingering look of love upon them, and, withdrav/ing from the cham- ber, closed the door and entered her parlor. There she found a band of armed men, headed oy the brutal wretch who had so unfeelingly examined her children. The soldiers were hard- ened against every appeal of humanity, and per- formed their unfeeling office without any emo- tion, save that of hatred for one whom they deemed to be an aristocrat. They seized Jose- phine rudely, and took possession of all the property in the house in the name of the Ee- public. They dragged their victim to the con- V(3nt of the Carmelites, and she was immured in that prison, where, but a few months before, more than eight thousand had been massacred by the mob uf Paris. Even the blackest an- nals of religious fanaticism can record no out- rages more horrible than those which rampant infidelity perpetrated in these days of its tem- porary triumphs. When Eugene and Hortense awoke, they E 66 Josephine. [A.D. 1793 Forlorn condition of the children. They find a protector found themselves indeed alone in the wida world. They were informed by a servant of the arrest and the imprisonment of their moth- er. The times had long been so troubled, and the children were so familiar with the recital of such scenes of violence, that they were pre- pared to meet these fearful perplexities with no little degree of discretion. After a few tears, they tried to summon resolution to act worthily of their father and mother. Hortense, with that energy of character which she manifested through her whole life, advised that they should go to the Luxembourg, where their father was confined, and demand admission to share his imprisonment. Eugene, with that caution which characterized him when one of the lead- ers in the army of Napoleon, and when viceroy of Italy, apprehensive lest thus they might in some way compromise the safety of their father, recalled to mind an aged great-aunt, who was residing in much retirement in the vicinity of Versailles, and suggested the propriety of seek- ing a refuge with her. An humble female friend conducted the children to Versailles, where they were most kindly received. When the gloom of the ensuing night dark- ened the city, M. Beauliarnais in his cheerless A..D. 1793.J Arrest OF Josephine 67 Gloomy forebodings of Beauhamais and Josephine. cell, and Josephine in her prison still stained with the blood of massacre, wept over the des- olation of their home and their hopes. They knew not the fate of their children, and their minds were oppressed with the most gloomy forebodings. On the ensuing day, Josephine's heart was cheered with the tidings of their safe- ty. Such was the second terrific storm which Josephine encountered on life's dark waters. 68 Josephine. [A.D.1794 ConTent of the Carmelites. Quality of the prisoners Chapter IV. Scenes in Prison. (HE Convent of the Carmelites, in which Josephine was imprisoned, had acquired a fearful celebrity during the Reign of Terror. It was a vast and gloomy pile, so capacious in its halls, its chapel, its cells, and its subterra nean dungeons, that at one time nearly ten thousand prisoners were immured within its frowning walls. In every part of the building the floors were still deeply stained with the blood of the recent massacres. The infuriated men and women, intoxicated with rum and rage, who had broken into the prison, dragged multitudes of their victims, many of whom were priests, into the chapel, that they might, in de- rision of religion, poniard them before the altar About three hundred thousand innocent victim^s of the Revolution now crowded the prisons of- France. These unhappy captives, awaiting the hour of their execution, were not the ignorant, the debased, the degraded, but the noblest, the purest, the most refined of the citizens of the A.D.1794.J Scenes in Prison. 69 Cheerfulness of Josephine. Reading the daily journal, republic. Josephine was placed in the chapel of the convent, where she found one hundred and sixty men and women as the sharers of her captivity. The natural buoyancy of her disposition led her to take as cheerful a view as possible of the calamity in which the family was involved. Being confident that no serious charge could bo brought against her husband, she clung to the hope that they both would soon be liberated, and that happy days were again to dawn upon her reunited household. She wrote cheering letters to her husband and to her children. Her smilinsr countenance and words of kindness an- imated with new courage the grief-stricken and the despairing who surrounded her. She im- mediately became a universal favorite with the inmates of the prison. Her instinctive tact en- abled her to approach all acceptably, whatever their rank or character. She soon became prominent in influence among the prisoners, and reigned there, as every where else, over the hearts of willing subjects. Her composure, her cheerfulness, her clear and melodious voice, caused her to be selected to read, each day, to the ladies, the journal of the preceding day From their windows they could see, each morn 70 Josephine. [A.D.1794 Scenes Iroin the prison windows. Anecdote of Hortensa ing, the carts bearing through the streets their burden of unhappy victims who were t,o perish on the scaffold. Not unfrequently a wife would catch a glimpse of her husband, or a mother of her son, borne past the grated windows in the cart of the condemned. Who can tell the fear and anguish with which the catalogue of the guillotined was read, when each trembling heart apprehended that the next word might an- nounce that some loved one had perished ? Not unfrequently a piercing shriek, and a fainting form falling lifeless upon the floor, revealed upon whose heart the blow had fallen. Hortense, impetuous and unreflecting, was so impatient to see her mother, that one morning she secretly left her aunt's house, and, in a market cart, traveled thirty miles to Paris. She found her mother's maid, Victorine, at the fam- ily mansion, where all the property was sealed up by the revolutionary functionaries. After making unavailing efforts to obtain an interview with her parents, she returned the next day to Fontainebleau. Josephine was informed of this imprudent act of ardent affection, and wrote to her child the following admirable letter : *' I should be entirely satisfied with the good heart of my Hortense were I not displeased with A.I). 1794.] Scenes in Prison. 71 Letter from Josephine to Ilortcnse. Mitigation of seTcrity her bad head. How is it, my daughter, that, without permission from your aunt, you have come to Paris ? This was very wrong ! But it was to see me, you will say. You ought to be aware that no one can see me without an order, to obtain which requires both means and precautions. And, besides, you got upon M. Dorcet's cart, at the risk of incommoding him and retarding the conveyance of his merchan- dise. In all this you have been very inconsid crate. My child! observe, it is not sufficiert to do good ; you must also do good properly. At your age, the first of all virtues is confidence and docility toward your relations. I am there- fore obliged to tell you that I prefer your tran- quil attachment to your misplaced warmth. This, however, does not prevent me from em- bracing you, but less tenderly than I shall do when I learn that you have returned to your aunt." There was at this time, for some unknown reason, a little mitigation in the severity with whicli the prisoners were treated, and Josephine was very sanguine in the belief that the hour of their release was at hand. Emboldened by this hope, she wrote a very earnest appes.1 to the Committee of Public Safety, boforft v/hom 72 Josephine. • [A.D.1794, Josephine appeals to the Committee. She is summoned to trial, the accusations against M. Beauharnais would be brought. The sincerity and frankness of the eloquent address so touched the feelings of the president of the committecj that he resolved tc secure for Josephine and her husband the in- dulgence of an interview. The greatest caution was necessary in doing this, for he periled his own life by the manifestation of any sympathy for the accused. The only way in which he could accomplish his benevolent project was to have them both brought together for trial. Neither of them knew of this design. One morning Josephine, while dreaming of liberty and of her children, was startled by the unexpected summons to appear before the Revolutionary tribunal. She knew that justice had no voice which could be heard before that merciless and sanguinary court. She knew that the mockery of a trial was but the precursor of the sentence, which was immediately followed by the execution From her high hopes this summons caused a fearful fall. Thoughts of her husband and her children rushed in upon her overflowing heart, and the tenderness of the woman for a few mo- ments triumphed over the heroine. Soon, how* ever, regaining in some degree her composure, A.D. 1794.] Scenes iit Prison. 73 The unexpected interview. Feeling manifested by Benuharnaia she prepared herself, with as much cahnness ag possible, to meet her doom. She was led from her prison to the hall where the blood-stained tribunal held its session, and, with many oth- ers, was placed in an ante-room, to await her turn for an examination of a few minutes, upon the issues of which life or death was suspended. While Josephine was sitting here, in the anguish of suspense, an opposite door was opened, and some armed soldiers led in a group of victims from another prison. As Josephine's eye va- cantly wandered over their features, she was startled by the entrance of one whose wan and haggard features strikingly reminded lier of her husband. She looked again, their eyes met, and husband and wife were instantly locked in each other's embrace. At this interview, the stoicism of M. Beauharnais was entirely sub- dued. — the thoughts of the past, of his un worthi- ness, of the faithful and generous love of Jose • phine, rushed in a resistless flood upon his soul. He leaned his aching head upon the forgivin*,' Dosom of Josephine, and surrendered himself to love, and penitence, and tears. This brief and painful interview was their last. They never met again. They were al- lowed but a few moments together ere the offi. 74 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 Trial of M. Boauharna's and Josephine. Hopes cherished, cers came and dragged M. Beauharnais before the judges. His examination lasted but a few minutes, when he was remanded back to pris- on. Nothing was proved against him. No se- rious accusation even was laid to his charge. But he was a noble. He had descended from illustrious ancestors, and therefore, as an aris- tocrat, he was doomed to die. Josephine was also conducted into the presence of this san- guinary tribunal. She was the wife of a no- bleman. She was the friend of Maria Antoi- nette. She had even received distinguished attentions at court. These crimes consigned her also to the guillotine. Josephine was con- ducted back to her prison, unconscious of the sentence which had been pronounced against her husband and herself. She even cherished the sanguine hope that they would soon be lib- erated, for she could not think it possible that they could be doomed to death without even the accusation of crime. Each evening there was brought into the prison a list of the names of those who were to be led to the guillotine on the ensuing morning. A few days after the trial, on the evening of the 24th of July, 1794, M. Beauharnais found his name with the proscribed who were to be led to A.D. 1794.] Scenes in Prison. 75 Boauhamais's last letter to Josephine. Brutality of the executioners. the scaffold with the light of the next day. Love for his wife and his children rendered life too precious to him to be surrendered without anguish. But sorrow had subdued his heart, and led him with prayerfulness to look to God for strength to meet the trial. The native dig- nity of his character also nerved him to meet his fate with fortitude. He sat down calmly in his cell, and wrote a long, affectionate, and touching letter to his wife. He assured her of his most heartfelt ap- preciation of the purity and nobleness of her character, and of her priceless worth as a wife and a mother. He thanked her again and again for the generous spirit with which she forgave his oifenses, when, weary and contrite, lie returned from his guilty wanderings, and anew sought her love. He implored her to cherish in the hearts of his children the memo- ry of their father, that, though dead, he might still live in their affections. While he was writing, the executioners came in to cut off his long hair, that the ax might do its work unim- peded. Picking up a small lock from the floor, he wished to transmit it to his wife as his last legacy. The brutal executioners forbade hinj the privilege. H^e, however, succeeded in })nr 76 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 Removal of the guillotine. Execution of M. Beauharnaia chasing from them a few hairs, which he in* closed in his letter, and which she subsequently received. In the early dav/n of the morning, the cart of the condemned was at the prison door. The Parisians were beginning to be weary of tho abundant flow of blood, and Robespierre had therefore caused the guillotine to be removed from the Place de la Revolution to an obscure spot in the Faubourg St. Antoine. A large number of victims were doomed to die that morning. The carts, as they rolled along the pavements, groaned with their burdens, and the persons in the streets looked on in sullen silence. M. Beauharnais, with firmness, ascended the scaffold. The slide of the guillotine fell, and the brief drama of his stormy life was ended. While the mutilated form of M. Beauharnais was borne to an ignoble burial, Josephine, en- tirely unconscious of the calamity which had befallen her, was cheering her heart with the hope of a speedy union with her husband and her children in their own loved home. The morning after the execution, the daily journal, containing the names of those who had perished on the preceding day, was brought, as usual, to the prison. Some of the ladies in the prison /V.D. 1794.] Scenes in Prison 77 /osephine becomes infonned thereof. Her grief. Her despair. had received the intimation that M. Beauhar- nais had fallen. They watched, therefore, the arrival of the journal, and, finding their feara established, they tried, for a time, to conceal iho dreadful intelligence from the unconscious widov/. But Josephine was eagerly inquiring for the paper, and at last obtaining it, she ran her eye hastily over the record of executions, and found the name of her husband in the fatal list. She fell senseless upon the floor. For a long time she remained in a swoon. When consciousness returned, and with it a sense of the misery into which she was plunged, in the delirium of her anguish she exclaimed, " Oh God ! let me die ! let me die I There is no peace for me but in the grave." Her friends gathered around her. They im- plored her to think of her children, and for their sake to prize a life she could no longer prize for her own. The poignancy of her grief gradual- ly subsided into the calm of despair. A sleep- less night lingered slowly away. The darkness and the gloom of a prison settled down upoii her soul. The morning dawned drearily. A band of rough and merciless agents from the Revolutionary Assembly came to her with the almost welcome intelligence that in two days 78 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 Preparations for the execution of Josephine. She becomes cheerful, she was to be led to the Conciergerie, and from thence to her execution. These tidmgs would have been joyful to Josephine were it not for her children. A mother's love clung to the or- phans, and it was with pain inexpressible that she thought of leaving them alone in this tem- pestuous world — a world made so stormy, so woeful, by man's inhumanity to his fellow-man. The day preceding the one assigned for her execution arrived. The numerous friends of Josephine in the prison hung around her with tears. The heartless jailer came and took away her mattress, saying, with a sneer, that she would need it no longer, as her head was soon to repose upon the soft pillow of the guillotine. It is reported that, as the hour of execution drew nearer, Josephine became not only per- fectly calm, but even cheerful in spirit. She looked affectionately upon the weeping group ^tjathered around her, and, recalling at the mo- ment the prediction of the aged negress, gently smiling, said, "We have no cause for alarm, my friends ; I am not to be executed. It is written in the decrees of Fate that I am yet to be Queen of France." Some of her friends thought that the suppressed anguish of her heart had driven her to delirium, and they wept more A.D. 1794.] Scenes in Prison. 79 Credulity of Josephine. Tlie unexpected deliverancG bitterly. Bat one of the ladies, Madame d'Ai- guillon, was a little irritated at pleasantry which she deemed so ill timed. With something like resentment, she asked, "Why, then, madame, do you not appoint your household?" "Ah! that is true," Josephine replied. "I had for- gotten. Well, you, my dear, shall be my maid of honor. I promise you the situation." They both lived to witness the strange fulfillment of this promise. Josephine, however, who, from the circumstances of her early life, was inclined to credulity, afterward declared that at the time her mind reposed in the full confidence that in some way her life would be saved, and that the prediction of the negress would be virtually re- alized. The shades of night settled down around the gloomy convent, enveloping in their folds the despairing hearts which thronged this abode of woe. Suddenly the most exultant shout of joy burst from every lip, and echoed along through corridors, and dungeons, and grated cells. There was weeping and fainting for rapture inexpress- ible. The prisoners leaped into each other's arms, and, frantic with happiness, clung togeth- er in that long and heartfelt embrace which none can appreciate but those who have bccL 80 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 A miraculous change. Deliverance to the captives companions in woe. Into the blackness of their midnight there had suddenly burst the blaze of noonday. What caused this apparently mirac- ulous change ? The iron-hearted jailer had passed along, announcing, in coarsest phrase, THAT Robespierre was guillotined. There had been a new revolution. The tyrant had fallen. The prisons which he had filled with victims were to be emptied of their captives. A- D. 1794) Release from Prison. 81 Rol>e3pierre. M. Tallien. Madame de Fontenay Chapter V. The Release from Prison. FT^HE overthrow of Robespierre, and the con- -*• sequent escape of Josephine from the doom impending over her, was in the following man- ner most strangely accomplished. The tyranny of Robespierre had become nearly insupportable. Conspiracies were beginning to be formed to attempt his overthrow. A lady of great beau- ty and celebrity, Madame de Fontenay, was imprisoned with Josephine. M. Tallien, a man of much influence with a new party then rising into power, had conceived a strong attachment for this lady, and, though he could not safely indulge himself in interviews with her in pris- on, he was iji the habit of coming daily to tho Convent of the Carmelites that he might have the satisfaction of catching a glimpse of the one he loved through her grated window. Madame de Fontenay had received secret in- telligence that she was soon to be led before the Convention for trial. This she knew to be but the prelude of her execution. That evening F 82 Jose THINE. [A.D. 1794 A lover's device. Execution of Robespierre decreed M. Tallien appeared as usual before the guard* ed casement of the Carmelites. Madame de Fontenay and Josephine, arm in arm, leaned against the bars of the window, as if to breatha the fresh evening air, and made a sign to arrest M. Tallien's particular attention. They then dropped from the window a piece of cabbage- leaf, in which Madame de Fontenay had in- closed the following note : " My trial is decreed — the result is certain. If you love me as you say, urge every means to save France and me." With intense interest, they watched the mo- tions of M. Tallien until they saw him take the cabbage-leaf from the ground. Roused by the billet to the consciousness of the necessity of immediate action, he proceeded to the Conven- tion, and, with the impassioned energy which love for Madame de Fontenay and hatred of Robespierre inspired, made an energetic and fearless assault upon the tyrant. Robespierre, pale and trembling, saw that his hour had cx)me. A decree of accusation was preferred against him, and the head of the merciless des- pot fell upon that guillotine where he had al- ready caused so many thousands to perish. The day before Josephine was to have been execu- A. D. 1794.] Release from Pk/son. 83 Uc is guillotined. Singular mode ol" conveying informatioix ted, he was led, mangled and bleeding, to the scaffold. He had attempted to commit suicide. The ball missed its aim, but shattered his jaw. The wretched man ascended the ladder, and stood upon the platform of the guillotine. The executioners tore the bandage from his man- gled face, that the linen might not impede the blow of the ax. Their rude treatment of the inflamed wound extorted a cry of agony, which thrilled upon the ear of the assembled crowd, and produced a silence as of the grave. The next moment the slide fell, and the mutilated head was severed from the body. Then the very heavens seemed rent by one long, loud, ex- ulting shout, which proclaimed that Robespierre was no more ! The death of Robespierre arrested the ax which was just about to fall upon the head of Tosephine. The first intimation of his over- throw was communicated to her in the follow- ing singular manner. Madame d'Aiguillon was weeping bitterly, and sinking down with faintness in view of the bloody death to which her friend was to be led on the morrow. Jose- phine, whose fortitude had not forsaken her, drew her almost senseless companion to the window, that she might be revived by the fresh 84 Josephine. [A.D. 1794. rantomimic representation of Robespierre's fall. air. Her attention was arrested by a woman of the lower orders in the street, who was con- tinually looking up to the window, beckoning to Josephine, and making' many very singular gestures. She seemed to desire to call her at- tention particularly to the rohe which she wore, holding it up, and pointing to it again and again. Josephine, through the iron grating, cried out Robe. The woman eagerly gave signs of assent, and immediately took up a stone, which in French is Pierre. Josephine again cried out pierre. The woman appeared over- joyed on perceiving that her pantomime began to be understood. She then put the two to- gether, pointing alternately to the one and to the other. Josephine cried out Robespierre. The woman then began to dance and shout with delight, and made signs of cutting off a head. This pantomime excited emotions in the bo- som of Josephine v^^hich can not be described. She hardly dared to believe that the tyrant had actually fallen, and yet she knew not how else to account for the singular conduct of the wom- an. But a few moments elapsed before a great noise was heard in the corridor of the prison. The turnkey, in loud and fearless tones, cried out to h\^ dog, " Get out, you cursed bruto Df A.B 1794.] Release from Prison. 87 Universal joy caused lay the death of the tyrant a Robespierre !" This emphatic phraseology- con vinced them that the sanguinary monster before whom all France had trembled was nc longer to be feared. In a few moments the glad tidings were resounding through the pris- on, and many were in an instant raised from the abyss of despair to almost a delirium of bliss. Josephine's bed was restored to her, and she placed her head upon her pillow that night, and sank down to the most calm and delightful re- pose. No language can describe the transports ex- cited throughout all France by the tidings of the fall of Robespierre. Three hundred thou- sand captives were then lingering in the prisons of Paris awaiting death. As the glittering steel severed the head of the tyrant from his body, their prison doors burst open, and France was filled with hearts throbbing with ecstacy, and with eyes overflowing with tears of rapture. Five hundred thousand fugitives were trembling in their retreats, apprehensive of arrest. They issued from their hiding-places frantic with joy, and every village witnessed their tears and em- braces. The new party which now came into power, with Tallien at its head, immediately liberated 88 Josephine. [A .D. 1794 Josephine released from captivity. Gloomy prospect those who had been condemned by their oppo- nents, and the prison doors of Josephine were thrown open to her. But from the gloom of her cell she returned to a world still dark and clouded. Her husband had been beheaded, and all his property confiscated. She found herself a widow and penniless. Nearly all of her friends had perished in the storms which had swept over France. The Reign of Terror had passed away, but gaunt famine was staring the nation in the face. They were moments of ecstacy when Josephine, again free, pressed Eugene and Hortense to her heart. But the most serious embarrassments immediately crowded upon her. Poverty, stern and apparently remediless, was her lot. She had no friends upon whom she had any right to call for aid. There was no employment open before her by which she could obtain her subsistence ; and it appeared that she and her children were to be reduced to absolute beggary. These were among the darkest hours of her earthly career. It was from this abyss of obscurity and want that she was to be raised to a position of splendor and of power such as thQ wildest dreams of earthly ambition could hardly have conceived. Though Robespierre was dead, the strife of A.D. 1794.] Release from Prison. 69 Heartlessness of Marat. Eugene apprenticed to an artisan, rancorous parties raged with unabated violencoj and blood flowed freely. The reign of the mob still continued, and it was a mark of patriotism demanded by the clamors of haggard want and degradation to persecute all of noble blood. Young girls from the boarding-schools, and boyg just emerging from the period of childhood, were beheaded by the guillotine. '' We must exterminate," said Marat, '' all the lohelps of aristocracy." Josephine trembled for her chil- dren. Poverty, and the desire of concealing Eugene among the mass of the people, induced her to apprentice her son to a house carpenter. For several months Eugene cheerfully and la- boriously toiled in this humble occupation. But the sentiments he had imbibed from both father and mother ennobled him, and every day pro- duced new developments of a lofty character, which no circum^stances could long depress. Let such a woman as Josephine, with her cheerful, magnanimous, self-sacrificing, and generous spirit, be left destitute in any place where human beings are congregated, and she will soon inevitably meet with those who will feel honored in securing her friendship and in offering her a home. Every fireside has a wel- come for a noble heart Madame Dumoulin, a 90 Josephine. [AD. 1795 Kindness vf Josephine's friends. She recovers her property. lady of great elevation of character, whose large fortune had by some chance escaped the gen- eral wreck, invited Josephine to her house, and freely supplied her wants. Madame Fon- tenay, also, who was a woman of great beauty and accomplishments, soon after her liberation was married to M. Tallien, to whom she had tossed the note, inclosed in a cabbage-leaf, from her prison window. It was this note which had so suddenly secured the overthrow of the tyrant^ and had rescued so many from the guillotine. They both became the firm friends of Josephine, Others, also, soon became strongly attracted to her by the loveliness of her character, and v/ere ambitious to supply all her wants. Through M. Tallien, she urged her claim upon the National Convention for the restora- tion of her confiscated property. After a long and tedious process, she succeeded in regaining such a portion of her estate as to provide her amply with all the comforts of life. Again she had her own peaceful home, with Eugene and Hortense by her side. Her natural buoyancy of spirits rose superior to the storms which had swept so mercilessly over her, and in the love of her idolized children, and surrounded by the gymj)athies of appreciative friends, days of se- A.D. 1795.] Release from Prison. 91 A domestic scene. A new order of knightaood renity, and even of joy, began to shine upon her. A domestic scene occurred in the dwelling a of Josephine on the anniversary of the death of M. Beauharnais peculiarly characteristic of the times and of the French people. Josephine called Eugene to her room, and presented to him a portrait of his father. " Carry it to your chamber, my son," she said, *' and often let it be the object of your contemplations. Above all, let him whose image it presents be your constant model. He was the most amiable of men ; he would have been the best of fathers." Eugene was a young man of that enthusi- astic genius which is the almost invariable ac- companiment of a noble character. His emo- tions were deeply excited. With the charac- teristic ardor of his countrymen, he covered thti portrait with kisses, and wept freely. Josephino folded her noble boy in her embrace, and they mingled their tears together. In the evening, as Josephine was sitting alone in her parlor, her son entered, accompa- nied by six young men, his companions, each decorated with a copy of the portrait of M. Beauharnais suspended from the neck by a black and white ribbon. *' You see," said Eugene to 92 Josephine. [A.D. 1795. The Order oi Filial Love. Inauguration. Deoorationa of the room. his mother, " the founders of a new order of knighthood. Behold our tutelary saint," point- ing to the portrait of his father. " And thes6 are the first members." He then introduced his youthful companions to his mother. " Ours," he continued, " is named the Order of Filial Love ; and, if you would witness the first inauguration, pass with these gentlemen into the small drawing-room." Josephine entered the drawing-room with thtj youthful group, and found it very tastefully ornamented with garlands of ivy, roses, and laurels. Inscriptions, taken from the printed discourses or remarkable sayings of M. Beau- harnais, were suspended upon the walls. Gir- andoles, with lighted tapers, brilliantly illumin- ated the room. An altar was erected, hung with festoons of flowers, and upon this altar was placed the full-length portrait of M. Beau- harnais. Three crowns of white and red roses were suspended from the picture-frame, and in front were placed two vases with perfumes. The young gentlemen ranged themselves about the altar in perfect silence, and, at a con- certed signal, eagerly unsheathed the swords which they wore at their sides, and, clasping hands, solemnly took the oath, " To love theil A..D. 1795.] Release from Prison. 9? I'he oath. New organization of social society parents, succor each other, and to defend their country P At this moment, Eugene, unfurling and waving a small banner, with its folds sha- ded the head of his father. "We then em- braced each other," says Josephine, " mingling tears with smiles, and the most amiable disor- der succeeded to the ceremonial of inaugura- tion." The fascination of Josephine's person and Address drew multitudes of friends around her, and her society was ever coveted. As time softened the poignancy of her past sorrows, she mingled more and more in the social circles of that metropolis where pleasure and gayety ever reign. The terrible convulsions of the times had thrown the whole fabric of society into con- fusion. Great efforts were now made to revive the festivities of former days. Two centers of society were naturally established. The first included that in which Josephine moved. It was composed of the remains of the ancient no- bility, who had returned tc Paris with the frag- ments of their families and their shattered for- tunes. Rigid economy was necessary to keep up any appearance of elegance. But that pol- ish of manners which almost invariably descend;? from an illustrious ancestry marked all thei.. 94 Josephine. [A.D. 1795. The " Ball of the Victims." Fashionable style of hair-dressing. intercourse. The humiliations through which the nobles had passed had not diminished tho exclusiveness of their tastes. The other circle was composed of merchants and bankers who had acquired opulence in the midst of the con- fiscations and storms of revolution. The pas- sion for display was prominent in all their as- semblies, as is necessarily the case with those whose passport to distinction is wealth. At the theaters and all the places of public festivity, there were presented studied memo- rials of the scenes of horror through which all had recently passed. One of the most fashion- able and brilliant assemblies then known in Paris was called The Ball of the Victims. No one was admitted to this assembly who had not lost some near relative by the guillotine. The most fashionable style of dressing the hair was jocosely called " ^ fa guillotine." The hair was arranared in the manner in which it had been adjusted by the executioner for the unim- peded operation of the ax. And thus, with songs, md dances, and laughter-moving jokes, they commemorated the bloody death of their friends. A new insurrection by the populace of Paris was at this, time planned against the Conven- A.D.1795.] Release from Prison. 95 A new insurrection. The littlo Cc rsictn. tion. The exasperated people were again to march upon the Tuilleries. The members were m extreme consternation. The mcb could bring tens of thousands against them, well armed with muskets and heavy artillery. There were but five hundred regular troops with which to resist the onset. Menou, the officer in command, ac- knowledged his inability to meet the crisis, and surrendered his power to Barras. This general immediately, as by a sudden thought, exclaim- ed, " 1 know the man who can defend us ! He is a little Corsican, who dares do any thing, and is perfectly reckless of consequences I" The little Corsican, Napoleon Bonaparte, the day-star of whose fame was just beginning to rise over the smouldering ruins of Toulon, was invited to meet the Convention. His fragile form was almost feminine in its proportions, but an eagle eye calmly reposed in his pallid and emaciate countenance. He had 'been se- verely sick, and the Convention looked with amazement and incredulity upon this feeble youth, as the one presented to rescue them from their impending peril. The president fixed his eye upon him doubt- ingly, and said, " Are you willing to undertake our defense ?" B6 Josephine. [A.D.179d Napoleon's authorify established. The Tuilleries fortified. ** Yes !" was the calm, laconic, and almost indifferent reply. " But are you aware of the magnitude of the eiidertaking ?" " Fully !" said Napoleon, fixing his piercing eye upon the president; "and I am in the habit of accomplishing that which I undertake." From that moment his authority was estab- lished. Every member of the Convention felt the mysterious fascination of his master mind. Barras surrendered the whole command into his hands. He instantly called into the city all the national forces which were around Paris, and disposed fifty pieces of heavy artillery, un- der the command of Murat, so as to rake all the avenues to the Convention. His calm and al- most superhuman energy sought no repose that night. The delay of but a few moments would have placed this very park of artillery, which secured his victory, in the hands of the insur- g*jnts. When the morning dawned, the Tuil- i*?ries, as if by magic, had assumed the aspect of a fortified camp. The little Corsican was silently and calmly awaiting the onset, as se- cure of triumph as if the victory were already achieved. But in every quarter of Paris, during the A.D. 1795 Release from Prison. 97 Advance of the insurgents. Napoleon opens his batterieS; night, the insurgents had been mustering their forces, and the mutterings of the approaching storm were dismally echoed through the streets of the metropolis. Above thirty thousand men, all well armed with musketry and artillery, in regular military array, and under experienced generals, came pouring down upon the feeble band which surrounded the Convention. Will the little Corsican dare to fire upon tho people ? Will this pale and slender youth, who had hardly yet entered upon the period of man- hood, dare to deluge the pavements of Paris with the blood of her own citizens ? Will he venture upon a conflict so unequal, when fail- ure is his certain death ? Napoleon, with his colorless cheek, his flash- ing eye, and his air of mysterious melancholy, stood in silence, as the gathering thousands crowded down upon him. He offered no par- ley ; he uttered not a word of warning ; he con- descended to no threats. The insurgents, be- lieving that he would not dare to fire upon them, advanced within fifty yards of his masked battery, when he opened his columns, and, in the roar of artillery shotted to the muzzle, tho voice of Napoleon was for the first time heard in the streets of Paris. The thunder of his G 98 Josephine. [A.D. 1795. Defeat of the insurgents. Rising fame of Napoleoa tones was preceded by the lightning's bolt. The merciless storm of grape-shot, sweeping the streets, covered the ground with the dead and the dying. No mortal could withstand such s conflict. The advancing foe wavered for an instant, and then, in the utmost consternation, took to flight. Napoleon commanded immedi* ately the most rapid discharge of blank car^ tridges. Peal upon peal, their loud reverbera- tions deafened the city, and added wings to the flight of the terror-stricken crowd. But a few moments elapsed ere not even a straggler could be seen in the deserted streets. The little Cr^ sican, pale and calm, stood, with folded aims, as unperturbed as if no event of any moment had occurred. During the whole day, howev- er, the conflict continued in different parts of the city, but before nightfall the insurgents were every where entirely discomfited. Paris was now filled with the name of Na- poleon. Some regarded him as a savior, pro- tecting the Convention ; others considered him a demon, deluging the capital with blood. One evening, Josephine was visiting at the house of a friend, and sitting by a window examining gome beautiful violets, vfhen Bonaparte wag announced. Josephine had never yet met him, A.D. 1795.] Release from Prison. 99 riis first interview with Josephine. IIi3 '• seal.* though, of course, she had heard much of one whose rising fame filled the metropolis. She says that she trembled violently at the announcement of his name. His entrance seemed to excite general interest, and all eyes were turned toward him, though most of the company regarded him in silence. He approach- ed Josephine, and the subject of the recent con- flict in the streets of Paris was introduced. " It seems to me," said Josephine, " that it is only with regret that we should think of the consternation you have spread through the cap- ital. It is a frightful service you have per- formed." ''It is very possible," he replied. " The military are only automata, to which the gov- ernment gives such motions as it pleases. They have no duty but to obey. Besides, I wished to teach the Parisians a little lesson. This is my seal which I have set upon France.'^'' This he said in such calm, quiet, imperturb- able tones, so expressive of his perfect confi- dence in himself, and of his indifference to the opinions of others, that Josephine was quite piqued, and replied politely, but yet in a man- ner which indicated her displeasure. " These light skirmishes," the young general 100 Josephine. IA.D. 1795. Napoleon disarms the populace. The sword of Beauhamttis rejoined, "are but the first coruscations of my glory ^ '^ if you are to acquire glory at such a price," Josephine answered, " I would much rathei count you among the victims." Such was the first interview between Jose- phine and Napoleon. It was merely a casual meeting in an evening party between a widow, graceful and beautiful, and a young man of boundless ambition. Though Josephine was not pleased with Napoleon, he produced a very profound impression upon her mind. Napoleon, being now in command of the troops in Paris, by order of the Convention, executed the very unpopular office of disarming the populace. In the performance of this order, the sword of M. Beauharnais was taken. The next day, Eu- gene, who was then a boy twelve years of age, of exceedingly prepossessing appearance, pre- sented himself before Napoleon, and implored the return of the sword which had belonged to his father. Napoleon was deeply interested in the frankness and the fervor of emotion mani- fested by the lad, and immediately complied with his request. Josephine called upon him the next day to thank him for his kindness to her son. He was at this interview as deeplj^ A.D.1795.] Release from Prison. 101 Napoleon regards Josephine with interest. Her opinion of hini. impressed by the fascinations of the mother as he had previously been struck by the noble bearing of the child. After this they frequent- ly met, and Josephine could not be blind to the interest with which she was regarded by Na- poleon. Situated as he then was, it was social elevation to him to be united with Madame do Beauharnais, and her rank, and influence, and troops of friends would greatly aid him in his ambitious plans. It is also unquestionably true that Napoleon formed a very strong attachment for Josephine. Indeed, she was the only person whom he ever truly loved. That he did love her at times most passionately there can be no doubt. Josephine, however, had many misgivings respecting the expediency of the union. She stated to her friends that he was the most fas- cinating man that she had ever met ; that she admired his courage, the quickness of his judg- ment, the extent of his information. She, how- ever, confessed that she did not really love him — that she stood in awe of him. "His search- ing glance," she says, " mysterious and inex- plicable, imposes even upon our Directors — judge if it may not intimidate a woman." " Being now past the heyday of youth," she writes in a letter to a friend^ " can I hope long 10^ Josephine. [A.B 1795. Letter to a friend. Foresight of Napoleoa 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. Excellent resource ! you will say. Alas ! 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 suftered. Write quickly, and do not fear to scold me, should you judge that I am wrong. You know that what- ever 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 ap- pointed to the command of the army of Italy Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of this favor, which already excites murmuring among his fellow-soldiers, though it be as yet only a prom* ise, said to me, * Think they, then, I have need of their protection to arrive at power ? Egre-. gious mistake ! They will all be but too happy one day should I grant them mine. My sword is by my side, and with it I will go far ' AD. 1795.] Release from Prison. 103 Ffis confidence. His ambition iinbounded. His moral principles. *' 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 pro* tect the heads of government ! that, truly, is an event highly probable ! I know not iiow it is, but sometimes this waywardness gains upon me to such a degree that almost I believe pos- sible whatever this singular man may take it in his head to attempt ; and, with his imagina- tion, who can calculate what he will not under- take ?" It was now winter. The storm of Revolu- tign had partially subsided. The times were, however, full of agitation and peril. Europe was in arms against France. There was no stable government and no respected laws. The ambitious young general consecrated his days with sleepless energy to his public duties, but each evening he devoted to Josephine. Napo- leon never manifested any taste for those dissi- pating pleasures which attract and ruin so many young men. He had no moral principles which pronounced such indulgences wrong, but the grandeur of his ambition absorbed all his ener- gies. He was, even at that time, a hard stu- dent. He was never more happy than when alone with Josephine, engaged in conversation 104 Josephine [A. D. 1795. Napoleon's estimate of the female sex. Strength of his attachment or reading. His attachment for Josephine be- came very ardent and passionate. The fema.e character at this time, in France, was far froru high. Napoleon had but little respect for ladiea in general. The circumstances of his life had led him to form a low estimate of the sex. He often sdid that all the rest of the sex were noth- ing compared with Josephine. He frequently gave public breakfasts to his friends, at which Josephine universally presided, though other la- dies were invited. In the pleasant mansion of Josephine, Napo- leon was in the habit of meeting a small cir- cle of select friends, who were strongly attached to Josephine, and who were able, and for her sake were willing to promote his interests. Na- poleon was a man of strong affections, but of stronger ambition. Josephine was entirely sat- isfied with the singleness and the ardor of his love. She sometimes trembled in view of its violence. She often remarked to her friends that he was incomparably the most fascinating man she had ever met. All have equally at- tested Napoleon's unrivaled powers of pleasing, whenever it suited his purpose to make the ef- fort. Tho winter thus rapidly and pleasantly' passed away A.D. 1796.1 JcsEPHiNE IN Italy. 105 liarriage of Josephine and Napoleon. The army of Italy. Chapter VJ. Josephine in Italy. ^N the 9th of March, 1796, Josephine was married to Napoleon. The Revolution had swept away every thing that was sacred in human and divine institutions, and the attempt had been made to degrade marriage into a mere partnership, which any persons might contract or dissolve at pleasure. According to the Rev- olutionary form, Josephine and Napoleon pre- sented themselves before a magistrate, and sim- ply announced their union. A few friends at- tended as witnesses of the ceremony. Napoleon had, in the mean time, been ap- pointed commander of the French forces in Italy. In twelve days after his nuptials, he left his bride and hastened to the army, then in the lowest state of poverty and suffering. The vet- eran generals, when they first saw the pale-faced youth who was placed over them all, were dis- posed to treat him with contempt. Hardly an hour elapsed after his arrival ere they fcxt and admitted that ho was their master. He seemed 106 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 Proclamation of Napoleon. He is called an ignoramus insensible to mental exhaustion, or fatigue, oi hunger, or want of sleep. He was upon horse* back night and day. Almost supernatural ao* tivity was infused into the army. It fell liko an avalanche upon the Austrians. In fifteen days after he took command, he proclaimed to his exulting and victorious troops, *' Soldiers ! you have gained in fifteen days six victories, taken one-and-twenty standards, fifty-five pieces of cannon, many strong places, and conquered the richest part of Piedmont ; you have made fifteen thousand prisoners, and killed or wounded ten thousand men." Paris was perfectly intoxicated with the an- nouncement, day after day, of these brilliant achievements. The name of Napoleon was upon every lip, and all France resounded with his praises. " This young commander," said one of the discomfited veteran generals of the Austrian army, " knows nothing whatever about the art of war. He is a perfect ignoramus. He sets at defiance all the established rules of military tactics. There is no doing any thing with him." Napoleon, after a series of terrible conflicts and most signal triumphs, drove the Austrians out of Italy, pursued them into their own coun* A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 107 Josephine at Montebello. Her popaliirity try, and at Leoben, almost within sight of the steeples of Vienna, dictated a peace, which crowned him, in the estimation of his country« men, with the highest glory. Josephine now went from Paris to Italy to meet her triumph- ant husband. They took up their residence at the Castle of Montebello, a most delightful country seat in the vicinity of Milan. And here Josephine passed a few months of almost unalloyed happiness. The dark and tempestuous days through which she had re- cently been led, had prepared her to enjoy most exquisitely the calm which ensued. She had been in the deepest penury. She was now in the enjoyment of all that wealth could confer. She had been widowed and homeless. She was now the wife of a victorious general whose fame was reverberating through Europe, and her home combined almost every conceivable attraction. She had been a prisoner doomed to die, and her very jailer feared to speak to her in tones of kindness. Now she was caressed by nobles and princes ; all the splendors of a court surrounded her, and every heart did her homage Josephine presided at all her receptions and en- tertainments with an elegance of manner so winning as perfectly to fascinate the MilanesCi 108 Josephine. [A.D.1796 Pleasure excursions. Isola Bella " I conquer provinces," said Napoleon of her at that time, ^* but Josephine wins hearts." The vicinity of Montebello combines perhaps as much of the beautiful and the sublime in scenery as can be found at any other spot on the surface of the -globe. Napoleon sympathized most cor- dially with Josephine in her appreciation of the beautiful and the romantic; and though he devoted the energies of his mind, with unsleep- ing diligence, to the ambitious plans which en- grossed him, he found time for many delightful excursions with his fascinating bride. There is not, perhaps, in Italy a more lovely drive than that from Milan, along the crystal waters of Lake Como to Lake Maggiore. This romantic lake, embosomed among the mountains, with its densely wooded islands and picturesque shores, was a favorite resort for excursions of pleasure. Here, in gay parties, they floated in boats, with well-trained rowers, and silken awnings, and streaming pennants, and ravishing music. Tho island of Isola Bella, or Beautiful Island, with its arcades, its hanging gardens, and its palace of monkish gloom, was Napoleon's favorite land- ing-place. Here they often partook of refresh- ments, and engaged with all vivacity in rural festivities. It is stated that, while enjoying one A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. Ill Anecdote Ambition of Napoleon. of these excursions, Josephine, with one or two other ladies, was standing under a beautiful orange-tree, loaded with fruit, with the atten- tion of the party all absorbed in admiring the beauties of the distant landscape. Napoleon, unperceived, crept up the tree, and by a sudden shake brought down quite a shower of the golden fruit upon the ladies. The companions of Jo- sephine screamed with affright and n n from the tree. She, however, accustomed to such pleas- antries, suspected the source, and remained un- moved. "Why, Josephine!" exclaimed Napo- leon, " you stand fire like one of my veterans." ^' And why should I not ?" she promptly replied ; '' am I not the wife of their commander ?" Napoleon, during these scenes of apparent relaxation, had but one thought — ambition. His capacious mind was ever restless, ever ex- cited, not exactly with the desire of personal aggrandizement, but of mighty enterprise, of magnificent achievement. Josephine, with her boundless popularity and her arts of persuasion, though she often trembled in view of the limit- less aspirations of her husband, was extremely influential in winning to him the powerful friends by whom they were surrounded. The achievements which Napoleon a(5com- 112 Josephine. [A,D.1796. His achievements. Fears of the Directory plished during the short Italian campaign are perhaps unparalleled in ancient or modern war- fare. With a number of men under his command over inferior to the forces of the Austrians, he maneuvered always to secure, at any one point, an array superior to that of his antagonists. He cut up four several armies which were sent from Austria to oppose him, took one hundred and fifteen thousand prisoners, one hundred and sev- enty standards, eleven hundred and forty pieces of battering cannon and field artillery, and drove the Austrians from the frontiers of France to the walls of Vienna. He was every where hail- ed as the liberator of Italy ; and, encircled with the pomp and the power of a monarch, he re- ceived such adulation as monarchs rarely enjoy. The Directory in Paris began to tremble in view of the gigantic strides which this ambitious general was making. They surrounded him with spies to garner up his words, to watch his actions, and, if possible, to detect his plans. But the marble face of this incomprehensible youth told no secrets. Even to Josephine he revealed not his intentions ; and no mortal scrutin}?' could explore the thoughts fermenting in his deep and capacious mind. His personal appearance at A..1). 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 113 Description of Napoleon. His reserve. this time is thus described by an observer of his triumphal entrance into Milan : '' T beheld with deep interest and extreme at tention that extraordinary man who has per- formed such great deeds, and about whom there is something which seems to indicate that his career is not yet terminated. I found him very like his portrait, small in stature, thin, pale, with the air of fatigue, but not in ill health. He appeared to me to listen with more abstrac- tion than interest, as if occupied rather with what he v>as thinking of than with what was said to him. There is great intelligence in his countenance, along with an expression of habit- ual meditation, which reveals nothing of what is passing within. In that thinking head, in that daring mind, it is impossible not to sup- pose that some designs are engendering VN^hich shall have their influence upon the destinies of Europe." Napoleon was fully confident of the jealousy he had aroused, and of the vigilance with which he was watched. His caution often woundecj Josephine, as he was as impenetrable to her in reference to all his political plans as to any one else. While she at times loved him almost to adoration, she ever felt in awe of the unexplored H 114 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. Remark of Josephine. Secret plans of Napoleoa recesses of his mind. He appeared frequently lost in thought, and, perfectly regardless of the pomp and the pageantry with which he was surrounded, he gave unmistakable indications that he regarded the achievements he had al- ready accomplished as very trivial — merely the commencement of his career. She once re- marked to a friend, " During the many years we have now passed together, I never once be- held Bonaparte for a moment at ease — not even with myself. He is constantly on the alert. If at any time he appears to show a little confi- dence, it is merely a feint to tlirow the person with whom he is conversing off his guard, and to draw forth his real sentiments, but never does he himself disclose his own thoughts." Napoleon now deemed it expedient to visit Paris ; for he despised the weakness and the in- efficiency of those who, amid the surges of the Revolution, had been elevated there to the su* preme power, and already he secretly contem» plated the overthrow of the government, as soon as an opportunity promising success should bo presented. Josephine, with her children, re- mained in Milan, that she might continue to Jazzle the eyes of the Milanese with the splen- dor of the establishment of the Liberator of It- A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 115 Kapoleon's love for Josephine. Her influence over him aly, and that she might watch over the inter* ests of her illustrious spouse. She gave splendid entertainments. Her sa- loons were ever thronged with courtiers, and the inimitable grace she possessed enabled her, with ease and self-enjoyment, to preside with queenly dignity over every scene of gayety. She was often weary of this incessant grandeur and display, but the wishes of her husband and her peculiar position seemed to afford her no choice. Napoleon unquestionably loved Jose- phine as ardently as he was capable of loving any one. He kept up a constant, almost a daily correspondence with her. Near the close of his life, he declared that he was indebted to her for every moment of happiness he had known on earth. Ambition was, however, with Na- poleon a far more powerful passion than love. He was fully conscious that he needed the as- sistance of his most accomplished wife to raise him to that elevation he was resolved to attain. Self-reliant as he was, regardless as he ever ap- peared to be of the opinions or the advice of others, the counsel of Josephine had more influ- ence over him than perhaps that of all other persons combined. Her expostulations not un- frequently modified his plans, thougli his high tl6 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. A. young aid-de-camp. Affection of the Italians for Napoleon spirit could not brook the acknowledgment. Hortense and Eugene were with Josephine at Milan. Eugene, though but seventeen years of age, had joined Napoleon in the field as one of his aids, and had signalized himself by many acts of bravery. In this arrangement we see an indication of the plans of boundless ambition which were al- ready maturing in the mind of Bonaparte. The Italians hated their proud and domineering mas- ters, the Austrians. They almost adored Na- poleon as their deliverer. He had established the Cisalpine Republic, and conferred upon them a degree of liberty which for ages they had not enjoyed. Napoleon had but to unfarl his ban- ner, and the Italians, in countless thousands, were ready to rally around it. * The army in Italy regarded the Little Corporal with senti- ments of ven-eration and affection, for which we may search history in vain for a parallel. Ita- ly consequently became the base of Napoleon's operations. There he was strongly intrenched. In case of failure in any of his operations in Paris, he could retire behind the Alps, and bid defiance to his foes. Josephine was exactly the partner he needed io piotect these all-important interests during A.I). 1796.] Josephine in Italy, H7 Josephine a:i ally. She is at home in every situation his absence. Her strong and active intelligence, her sincerity, her unrivaled powers of fascina- ting all who approached her, and her entire de- votion to Napoleon, rendered her an ally of ex- ceeding efficiency. Powerful as was the arm of Napoleon, he never could have risen to the greatness he attained without the aid of Jose- phine. She, at Milan, kept up the splendor of a royal court. The pleasure-loving Italians ever thronged her saloons. The most illustri- ous nobles were emulous to win her favor, that they might obtain eminence in the service of her renowned spouse. At the fetes and enter tainments she gave to the rejoicing Milanese, she obtained access to almost every mind it was desirable to influence. No one could approach Josephine without becoming her friend, and a friend once gained was never lost. A weak woman, under these circumstances, which so severely tested the character, would have been often extremely embarrassed, and would have made many mistakes. It was remarkable in Josephine, that, notwithstanding the seclusion of her childhood and early youth, she ever ap- peared self-possessed, graceful, and at home in every situation in which she was placed. She moved through the dazzling ucenes of her court 118 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 Unembarrassed air of Josephine. She becomes the queen of etiquette at Milan, scenes of unaccustomed brilliance which had so suddenly burst upon her, with an air as entirely natural and .unembarrassed as if her whole life had been passed in the saloons of monarchs. She conversed with the most distinguished generals of armies, with nobles of the highest rank, with statesmen and scholars of wide-spread renown, with a fluency, an ap- propriateness, and an inimitable tact which would seem to indicate that she had been cra- dled in the lap of princes, and nurtured in the society of courts. It seemed never to be neces- sary for her to study the rules of etiquette. She was never accustomed to look to others to as- certain what conduct was proper under any cir- cumstances. Instinctive delicacy was her un- erring teacher, and from her bearing others compiled their code of politeness. She became the queen of etiquette, not the subject. Thus, while Napoleon, in Paris, was cau- tiously scrutinizing the state of public affairs, and endeavoring to gain a position there, Jose- phine, with the entire concentration of all her energies to his interests, was gaining for him in Milan vast accessions of power. She had no conception, indeed, of the greatness he was des- tined to attain. But she loved her husband A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 119 Josephine an object of homage. Her powers of fascination. She was proud of his rising renown, and it was her sijle ambition to increase, in every way in her power, the luster of his name. Aristocracy circled around her in delighted homage, while poverty, charmed by her sympathy and her be- neficence, ever greeted her with acclamations. The exploits of Napoleon dazzled the world, and the unthinking world has attributed his great- ness to his own unaided arm. But the gentle- ness of Josephine was one of the essential ele- ments in the promotion of his greatness. In co-operation with her, he rose. As soon as he abandoned her, he fell. Josephine soon rejoined her husband in Par- is, where she very essentially aided, by her fas- cinating powers of persuasion, in disarming the hostility of those who were jealous of his rising fame, and in attaching to him such adherents as could promote his interests. In the saloons of Josephine, many of the most heroic youths oi" France were led to ally their fortunes with those of the young general, whose fame had so suddenly burst upon the world. She had the rare faculty of diffusing animation and cheer- fulness wherever she appeared. " It is," she once beautifully remarked, " a necessity of my heart to love others, and to be loved by them 120 Josephine. |A.B. 1796 popular enthusiasm. Affected seclusion of Napoleon. in return." " There is only one occasion," she again said, " in which I would voluntarily use the words I will^ namely, when I would say, ^ I vnll that all around me be happy.' " Napoleon singularly displayed his knowledge of human nature in the course he pursued upo i his return to Paris. He assumed none of th : pride of a conqueror. He studiously avoided every thing like ostentatious display. Day aft« er day his lieutenants arrived, bringing the standards taken from the Austrians. Pictures, and statues, and other works of art extorted from the conquered, were daily making their appearance, keeping the metropolis in a state of the most intense excitement. The Parisians were never weary of reading and re-reading those extraordinary proclamations of Napoleon, which, in such glowing language, described his almost miraculous victories. The enthusiasm of the people was thus raised to the highest pitch. The anxiety of the public to see this young and mysterious victor was intense be- yond description. But he knew enough of the human heart to be conscious that, by avoiding the gratification of these wishes, he did but en- hance their intensity. Modestly retiring to an unostentatious mansion in the Rue Chante- A..D.1796.] Josephine in Italy. 121 He becomes studious. His laudable em ilation. His noble ambition reine, which, in compliment to him, had received the name of Rue de la Victoire, he secluded himself from the public gaze. He devoted hig time most assiduously to study, and to conver- sation with learned men. He laid aside his military garb, and assumed the plain dress of a member of the Institute. When he walked the streets, he was seldom recognized by the people. Though his society was courted in the highest circles of Paris, his ambition was too lofty to be gratified with shining among the stars of fashion. Though he had as yet reached but tho twenty-sixth year of his age, he had already gained the reputation of being the first of gen ■ erals. He was emulous not only of appearing to be, but also of actually being, an accomplished scholar. "I well knew," said he, "that the lowest drummer in the army would respect me more for being a scholar as well as a soldier." Napoleon inight have enriched himself be- yond all bounds in his Italian campaign had he been disposed to do so. Josephine, at times, remonstrated against his personal habits of economy, while he was conferring millions add- ed to millions upon France. But the ambition of her husband, inordinate as it was, was as sublime an ambition as any ons could feel in 122 Josephine. [A.D.1796 Napoleon the id( 1 of th(3 army. Anecdote view of merely worldly interests. He wished to acquire the renown of benefiting mankind by the performance of the noblest exploits. His ultimate end was his own fame. But he knew that the durability of that fame could only be secured by the accomplishment of noble ends. The effeminate figure of Napoleon in these early days had caused the soldiers to blend with their amazed admiration of his military genius a kind of fondness of affection for which no par- allel can be found in ancient or modern story. The soldiers were ever rehearsing to one anoth- er, by their night-fires and in their long marches, anecdotes of his perfect fearlessness, his brilliant sayings, his imperious bearing, by which he overawed the haughtiness of aristocratic power, and his magnanimous acts toward the poor and the lowly. One night, when the army in Italy was in great peril, worn out with the fatigue of sleep- lessness and of battle, and surrounded by Aus- trians, Napoleon was taking the round of his posts in disguise, to ascertain the vigilance of his sentinels. He found one poor soldier, in perfect exhaustion, asleep at his post. Napo- leon shouldered his musket, and stood sentry for him for half an hour. When the man awoke A, D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 123 Napoleon mounts guard. The ''Little Corporal." and recognized the countenance of his general, he sank back upon the ground in terror and despair. He knew that death was the doom for such a crime. " Here, comrade," said Na- poleon, kindly, " here is your musket. You have fought hard and marched long, and your sleep is excusable. But a moment's inatten« tion might at present ruin the army. I hap- pened to be awake, and have guarded your post for you. You will be more careful another time." At the "terrible passage of the bridge of Lodi," Napoleon stood at one of the guns, in the very hottest of the fire, directing it with his own hand. The soldiers, delighted at this very unusual exhibition of the readiness of their gen- eral to share all the toils and perils of the hum- blest private in the ranks, gave him the hon- orary and affectionate nickname of " The Little Corporal." By this appellation he was after- ward universally known in the army. The enthusiasm of the soldiers invested him with supernatural endowments, and every one was ready at any moment to peril life for the Little Corporal The government at Paris, rapidly waning in popularity, notwithstanding their extreme jeal- 124 Josephine. [A.D. 17% Triumphal fete. Song of the soldiers. Speech of Barrai ousy of the wide-spreading influence of this vic- torious general, was compelled, by the sponta- neous acclamations of the people, to give him a public triumph, when the famous treaty which Napoleon had effected in Italy was to be for- mally presented to the Directory. The mag- nificent court of .the Luxembourg was embel- lished with the flags of the armies which he had conquered, and the youthful hero of Lodi, of Areola, and of Rivoli made his first triumphant appearance in the streets of Paris. The en- thusiasm of the vast concourse of excitable Pa- risians overleaped all bounds. The soldiers of the proud army of Italy sang at their encamp- ments, in enthusiastic chorus, a song in which they declared that it was high time to eject the lawyers from the government, and make the Little Corporal the ruler of France; Barras, the friend of Josephine, who had selected Na- poleon to quell the insurrection in Paris, and who had secured to him the command of the army of Italy, declared in a eulogistic speech on this occasion that "Nature had exhausted all her powers in the creation of a Bonaparte." This sentiment was received with the most deafening peals of applause. But how like the phantasmagoria of magio A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 125 Remarkable contrast. Josephine the center of attraction. has this change burst upon the bewildered Jo- sephine. But a few months before, her hus- band, wan and wasted with imprisonment and woe, had been led from the subterranean dun- geons of this very palace, with the execrations of the populace torturing his ear, to bleed upon Uie scaffold. She, also, was then herself a pris- oner, without even a pillow for her weary head, awaiting the dawn of the morning w^hich was to conduct her steps to a frightful death. Her children, Hortense and Eugene, had been res cued from homelessness, friendlessness, and beg- gary only by the hand of charity, and were de- pendent upon that charity for shelter and for daily bread. Now the weeds of widowhood have given place to the robes of the rejoicing bride, and that palace is gorgeously decorated in honor of the world-renowned companion -upon whose arm she proudly leans. The acclamations re- sounding to his praise reverberate over mount- ain and valley, through every city and village of France. Princes, embassadors, and cour- tiers obsequiously crowd the saloons of Jose- phine. Eugene, an officer in the army, high in rank and honor, is lured along life's perilous pathway by the most brilliant prospects. Hor- tense in dazzling beauty, and surrounded by ad- 126 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. Josephine the " Star of Napoleon." She is a ministering angel mirers, is intoxicated with the splendor, which, like Oriental enchantment, has burst upon her view. Josephine, so beautifully called " the Star of Napoleon," was more than the harbinger of hia rising. She gave additional luster to his brill- iance, and was as the gentle zephyr, which sweeps away the mists and vapors, and presents a transparent sky through which the undimmed luminary may shine. Her persuasive influence was unweariedly and most successfully exerted in winning friends and in disarming adversaries. The admiration which was excited for the stern warrior in his solitary, silent, unapproachable grandeur, whose garnients had been dyed in blood, whose fearful path had been signalized by conflagrations, and shrieks, and the wailings of the dying, w^as humanized and softened by the gentle loveliness of his companion, who was ;»ver a ministering angel, breathing words of iiindness, and diffusing around her the spirit of harmony and love. Napoleon ever freely ac- knowledged his indebtedness to Josephine for her aid in these morning hours of his greatness. But unalloyed happiness is never allotted tc mortals. Josephine's very loveliness of person and of character was to her the occasion of A.D. 1796.1 Josephine in IrAi.y, 127 Jealousy of Napoleon. Arts of her enemies to encourage it many hours of heaviness. No one could be in- sensible to the power of her attractions. The music of her voic§, the sweetness of her smile, the grace of her manners, excited so much ad- miration, invested her with a popularity so uni- versal and enthusiastic, that Napoleon was, at times, not a little disturbed by jealousy. Her appearance was ever the signal for crowds to gather around her. The most distinguished and the most gallant men in France vied with each other in doing her homage. Some of the relatives of Napoleon, envious of the influence she exerted over her illustrious spouse, and anxious, by undermining her power, to subserve their own interests, were untiring in their en- deavors to foster all these jealousies. Josephine was exceedingly pained by the occasional indi- cations of her husband's distrust. A word from his lips, a glance from his eye, often sent her to her chamber with weeping eyes and an aching heart. An interview with her husband, how- ever, invariably removed his suspicions, and he gave her renewed assurances of his confidence and his love. The plans of Napoleon in reference to his fu- ture operations were still in a state of great uncertainty. His restless spirit could not brook 1)^8 Josephine. [A.D.1796 rhe " pear" not yet ripe. Napoleon resolves to go to Egypt inactivity. He saw clearly that the time had not yet come in which he could, with the pros- pect of success, undertake to overthrow the Revolutionary government and grasp the reins of power himself. Tt use his own expressive language, " The pear was not yet ripe." To one of his intimate friends he remarked, ''They do not long preserve at Paris the remembrance of any thing. If I remain any length of time unernployed, I am undone. The renown of one, in this great Babylon, speedily supplants that of anothe . If I am seen three times at the opera, I shall no longer be an object of curiosity. You ne^;d not talk of the desire of the citizens to see me. Crowds, at least as great, would go to see me led out to the scaffold. I am de- termined not to remain in Paris. There is nothing here to be done. Every thing here passes away. My glory is already declining This little corner of Europe is too small to sup- ply it. We must go to the East. All the great men of the world have there acquired their ce- lebrity. We will go to Egypt." Such was the grandeur of the dreams of a young man who had not yet passed his twenty- sixth year. T"A.nd these were not the musings of a wild and visionary brain, but the deeply laid A.D 1797.J Josephine in Italy. 129 Magnificence of his plans. and cautiously guarded plans of a mind which had meditated profoundly upon all probable emergencies, and which had carefully weighed all the means which could be furnished for the accomplishment of an enterprise so arduous and w majestic. I 130 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. Contemplated invasion of England. Expedition to Egjrpt Cha-pter VII. Josephine at Malmaison. FllHE Directory in Paris became daily more -^ and more alarmed, in view of the vast and ever-increasing popularity of the conqueror of Italy. A plan had been formed for the invasion of England, and this was deemed a good oppor- tunity for sending from France their dangerous rival. Napoleon was appointed com.mander-in- chief of the army of England. He visited the ooast, and devoted ten days and nights, with his extraordinary rapidity of apprehension, in investigating the prospects of success. He re- turned to Paris, saying, ''It is too doubtful a chance. I will not hazard on such a throw the fate of France." All his energies were then turned to his Egyptian expedition. He hoped to gain reputation and power in Egypt, pass through into India, raise an army of natives, headed by European officers and energized by an infusion of European soldiers, and thus drive the English out of India. It was a bold plan. The very grandeur of the enterprise roused the A.D.1798.J Josephine atMalmaison. 131 Hopes of the Directory. Napoleon's dislike of the Revolutioa enthusiasm of France. The Directory, secretly rejoicing at the prospect of sending Napoleon so far away, and hoping that he would perish on the sands of Africa, without much reluctance agreed to his proposal. Napoleon never loved the Revolution, and he most thoroughly detested the infamous and san- guinary despotism which had risen upon the ruins of the altar and the throne. He chanced to be in Paris when the drunken and ragged mob, like an inundation, broke into the Tuille- ries, and heaped upon the humiliated Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette the most infamous outrages. He saw the monarch standing at th^ window of his palace, with the dirty red cap ot Jacobinism thrust upon that brow which had worn the crown of Charlemagne. At the sight, the blood boiled in the veins of the youthful Napoleon. He could not endure the spectacle Turning upon his heel, he indignantly exclaim- ed, " The wretches ! had they mown down four or five hundred with grape-shot, the rest would speedily have taken to flight." He often expressed his dislike of the violent revolutionary course which the Directory were pursuing, and stated freely to his friends, "For my part, I declare, that if I had only the option 132 Josephine [A D. 1798 Napoleon a Royalist. Sailing of the expedition, between royalty and the system of these gen- tlemen, I would not hesitate for one moment to declare for a king," Just before Napoleon em barked for the East, Bourrienne asked him if he was really determined to risk his fate on the perilous expedition to Egypt. '' Yes !" he re- plied. ^' If I should remain here, it would be necessary to overturn this miserable govern- ment, and make myself king. But we must not think of that yet. The nobles will not con- sent to it. I have sounded, but I find the time for that has not yet arrived. I must first daz- zle these gentlemen by my exploits." On the morning of the 19th of May, 1798, the fleet set sail from the harbor of Toulon. It was a morning of surpassing loveliness, and seldom, if ever, has the unclouded sun shone upon a more brilliant scene. The magnificent armament extended over a semicircle of not less than eighteen miles. The fleet consisted of thirteen ships of the line, fourteen frigates, and four hundred transports. They carried forty thousand picked soldiers, and officers of the highest celebrity. For the first time in the world, a corps of scientific gentlemen was at- tached to a military expedition. One hundred eminent t rtists and connoisseurs Napoleon had A..D. 1798.] Josephine at Malm ai son. 1S3 A corps or sarang. Josephine in Toulon. Plan of Napoleon, collected to gather the antiquarian treasures of Egypt, and to extend the boundaries of science by the observation of the phenomena of nature. They formed a part of the staff of the invading army. Josephine accompanied her husband to Tou- lon, and remained with him until his embarka- tion. She was extremely anxious to go with liim to Egypt, and with tears plead that he would allow her to share his hardships and his perils. Napoleon, however, deemed the haz- ards to which they would be exposed, and the fatigues and sufferings they must necessarily endure, as quite too formidable for Josephine to encounter. But in the anguish of their part- ing, which is described as most tender, she wrung from him a promise to allow her to fol- low as soon as affairs in the East should render it prudent for her to do so. It can hardly be possible, however, that Napoleon ever expected to see her in Egypt. He himself has thus de- scribed the objects he had in view in this vast enterprise : " 1. To establish on the banks of the Nile a French colony, which could exist without slaves, and supply the place of Saint Domingo. 2. To open a market for the man- ufactures of France in Africa, Arabia, and 134 Josephine. [A.D. 1798 No obstacle insurmountable. Loneliness of Josephine Syria, and to obtain for the productions of his countrymen the productions of those countries. 3. To set out from Egypt, with an army of sixty thousand men, for the Indus, rouse the Mah- rattas to a revolt, and excite against the En- glish the population of those vast countries. Sixty thousand men, half Europeans, half na- tives, transported on fifty thousand camels and ten thousand horses, carrying with them pro- visions for fifty days, water for six, w^ith one hundred and fifty pieces of cannon and double ammunition, would arrive in four months in India. The ocean ceased to be an obstacle when vessels were constructed. The desert becomes passable the moment you have camels and dromedaries in abundance." As the fleet got under way, Josephine stood upon a balcony, with tearful eyes, gazing upon the scene, so imposing, and yet so sorrowful to her. The Orient, a ship of enormous magni- tude, contained her husband and her son. They were going into the midst of dangers from whence it was doubtful whether they would ever return. She fixed her eyes upon the ship as its lessening sails grew fainter and fainter in the distance, until the hardly discernible speck disappeared beneath the horizon, wliich the blue A.D.1798.J Josephine at Malmaison. 135 Residence at Plombieres. Josephine sends for her daughter. waves of the Mediterranean outlined. She retired to her room with those feelings of lone- liness and desolation which the circumstances were so peculiarly calculated to inspire. It was arranged that Josephine should take up her residence, until Napoleon should send for her, at Plombieres, a celebrated watering- place, whose medicinal springs were supposed to be very efficacious in restoring maternity. She sent for Hortense, at that time fifteen years of age, and who was then in the boarding-school of the distinguished Madame Campan. Jose- phine wished for her daughter to be her com- panion during the weary hours of her absence from her husband. She was expecting that, as soon as a landing should be effected in Egypt, a frigate would be dispatched to convey her to the banks of the Nile. She found solace during the lingering weeks of expectation in devoting herself to the instruction of her daughter. Hei comprehensive and excellent views on the sub- ject of education are developed in a letter which Bhe at this time wrote to Madame Campan, to accompany a niece who was to return to hef school : "My dear Madame Campan, — With my niece, whom I return to your charge, receive 136 • Josephine. [A.D. 179::5 Letter to Madame Campan. also my thanks and my reproof. The formei are due for the great care and brilliant educa- tion which you have bestowed upon the child ; the latter, for the faults which your sagacity must have discovered, but which your indul- gence has tolerated. The girl is gentle, but shy ; well informed, but haughty ; talented, but thoughtless. She does not please, and takes no pains to render herself agreeable. She conceives that the reputation of her uncle and the bravery of her father are every thing. Teach her, and that by the most effectual means, how absolute- ly unavailing are those qualities which are not personal. We live in an age where each is the author of his own fortunes ; and if those who serve the state in the first ranks ought to have some advantages and enjoy some privileges, they should, on that account, strive only to render themselves more beloved and more useful. It is solely by acting thus that they can have some chance of excusing their good fortune in the eyes of envy. Of these things, my dear Madame Campan, you must not allow my niece to re- main ignorant; and such are the instructicr.s which, in my name, you should repeat to her constantly. It is my pleasure that she treat as equals every one of her companions, most of j.^.D. j.798.1 Josephine at Malmaison. 187 Napoleon sends a frigate for Josephine. Serious accident whom are better or as good as herself, their only inferiority consisting in not having rela- tions so able or so fortunate." Notwithstanding Napoleon's strong disincli- nation to have Josephine join him in Egypt, and though in every letter he strongly urged her to relinquish the plan, she was so importu- nate in her solicitations that he sent the Pomo- na frigate to convey her across the Mediterra- nean. She was prevented from embarking by an accident, which she must have deemed a very serious calamity, but which probably saved her from years of captivity. She was one morn- ing sitting in her saloon, busy with her needle, and conversing with several ladies who were her companions and intimate friends, when a lady who was standing in the balcony called the at- tention of the party to a very beautiful dog which was passing in the street. All the ladies rushed upon the balcony, when, with a fearful crash, it broke dowr, and precipitated them upon the pavement. Though no lives were lost, several of the party were dreadfully injured. Josephine was so severely bruised as to be ut- terly helpless, and for some time she was fed like an infant. It was several months before she was sufficiently recovered to be able to leix^rs 138 Josephine. [A. D. 1798 Capture of the Pomona frigate. Purchase of Malmaison, her house. This grievous disappointment, how- ever, probably saved her from aiother, which would have been far more severely felt. The frigate in which she was to have embarked, had it not been for this accident, was captured by one of the English cruisers and taken to London. Napoleon went to Egypt because he thought it the shortest route to the vacant throne of the Bourbons. He despised the rulers who were degrading France, and placing a stigma upon popular liberty by their ignorance and their vi- olence, and he resolved upon their overthrow. Consequently, while guiding the movements of his army upon the banks of the Nile, his atten- tion was continually directed to Paris. He wrote to Josephine that he intended ere long to return, and directed her to purchase a pleasant country seat somewhere in the vicinity of Paris. About ten miles from the metropolis and five miles from Versailles there was a beautiful chateau, most charmingly situated, called Mal- maison. This estate Josephine purchased, great- ly enlarging the grounds, at an expense of about one hundred thousand dollars. This lovely re- treat possessed unfailing rural attraction for a mind formed, like that of Josephine, for the rich appreciation of all that is lovely in the aspoctj* A..D. 1799.] Josephine at Malmaison. 139 Josephine removes thither. Espionage of Napoleon. of nature. Napoleon was delighted with the purchase, and expended subsequently incredible sums in repairs and enlargements, and in em- bellishments of statues, paintings, and furni- ture. This was ever the favorite residence of Napoleon and Josephine. As the leaves of autumn began to fall, Jose- phine, who had been slowly recovering from the effects of the accident, left Plombieres and took up her residence at Malmaison. Napoleon was absent in Egypt about eighteen months. Dur- ing the winter and the ensuing summer, Jose- phine remained with Hortense, and several other ladies, who composed her most agreeable household, in this beautiful retreat. The celeb- rity of Napoleon surrounded them with friends, and that elegant mansion was the resort of the most illustrious in rank and intellect. Napo- leon, who had ever a spice of jealousy in his nature, had every thing reported to him which occurred at Malmaison. He was informed re- specting all the guests who visited the chateau, and of the conversation which passed in every interview. Hortense was a lively girl of fifteen, and the time hung rather heavily upon her hands. She amused herself in playing all manner of pranks 140 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 playfulness of Hortense. Carrat. The ai)paritioa upon a very singular valet de chambre, by the name of Carrat, whom her mother had brought from Italy. This man was very timid and ec- centric, but, with most enthusiastic devotion, attached to the service of Josephine. One evening Carrat received orders to attend Madame Bonaparte and several ladies who were with her in their twilight walk through the magnificent park belonging to the estate. Carrat, ever delighted with an opportunity to display his attachment to his kind mistress, obeyed with great alacrity. No ladies in peril could desiifi a more valiant knight-errant than the vaunting little Italian assumed to be. They had not advanced far into the somber shadows of the grove when they saw, solemnly emerging from the obscurity, a tall specter in its wind- ing-shoet. The fearful apparition approached the party, when the valet, terrified beyond all power of self-control, and uttering the most /earful shrieks, abandoned the ladies to the ten- der mercies of the ghost, and fled. The phan- tom, with its white drapery fluttering in the wind, pursued him. Soon the steps of the af- frighted valet began to falter, and he dropped upon the ground, insensible, in a fit. Hortense, who had been perfectly convulsed with langh- A D. 1799.] Josephine at Malmaison. 141 Worteuee a tormentor. A shower-bath in embryo ter in view of the triumphant success of her experiment, was now correspondingly alarmed. The ghost was a fellow-servant of Carrat, who had been dressed out under the superintendence of the mischievous Hortense. As the poor man recovered without any se- rious injury and without the slightest diminu- tion of his excessive vanity, the fun-loving Hor- tense could not repress her propensity still to make him the butt of her practical jokes. It was a defect in her character that she could find pleasure in this mischievous kind of torment. Tt is not improbable that this trait of character, which appears so excusable in a mirthful girl of fifteen, was the cause of that incessant train of sorrows which subsequently embittered her whole life. Carrat was perfectly devoted to Jo- sephine ; Hortense was his torment. The unlucky valet occupied a sleeping-room separated from another only by a thin deal par- tition. A hole was made through this, and a pail of water so suspended in equilibrium over the pillow of the victim, that by drawing a cord the whole contents would be emptied upon his head. The supports of the bedstead had also been removed, so that the whole fabric would fall as soon as any weight was placed upon it 142 Josephine [A.D. 1799 ?rttit8 of loving darkness rather than light. Murder ! fire Carrat, among his other eccentricities, was evei in the habit of going to bed without a light Matters being thus prepared, Hortense, who had employed an attendant to aid her in her plans, stood in an adjoining room to enjoy the catas- trophe. The poor man entered his room, and threw himself upon his pallet. Down it came with a crash, and his shriek of fright was for a moment drowned in the inundation of water. Hortense, knowing the almost delirious fear which the pu- erile valet had of reptiles, cried, " Poor man ! poor man ! what will he do. The water was full of toads." Carrat, in utter darkness, drench- ed with cold water, and overwhelmed in the ruins of his bed and bedding, shrieked, " Mur- der ! help ! fire ! drowning !" while Hortense and her accomplices enjoyed his ludicrous terror. She afterward made him a handsome present as a compensation. Hortense was not a mali- cious girl, but, like many others who are mirth - ful and thoughtless, she found a strange pleas- ure in teasing. Josephine's only happiness was in making others happy. " It is a necessity of my heart," she said, " to love thoso around me, and to be loved by them in return." How mu-ch more noble such a, spirit ! .^.0. 1799. J Josephine at Malmaison. 143 /osephine's zeal for her husband. Letter to an enaigrant Though Josephine was not fully informed re- specting the ultimate designs of Napoleon, and though Napoleon at this time probably had nd very definite plans respecting his future actions, his interests manifestly required that she should exert all her powers to strengthen the ties ot those who were already his friends, and to gain others to his rising name. Josephine acquired great influence over many members of the Di- rectory, and this influence she was continually exerting for the relief of those who were in dis- tress, j^lany of the proscribed emigrants were indebted to her for liberty and the restoration of their forfeited estates. The following letter from Josephine to an emigrant, whose fortune, and perhaps life, she had saved, exhibits her in- tellectual elevation as well as the amiability of her heart. "Sir, — Your petition, which reached Mal- maison on the 12th, was presented the same evening, and by myself, to Citizen Barras. I have the pleasure to announce to you that the decision is favorable, and that now, erased from the fatal list, you are restored to all the rights of a French citizen. But in transmitting a com. munication not less agreeable to me than to yourself, permit me to enhance its value by re. 144 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 Remarks of Barras. Good advice ofFered peating to you the exact words with which it was accompanied by the Director. ' I have usually little to deny you, madame,' said he, presenting me with a sealed inclosure contain- ing the act of restoration, ' and certainly, when humanity is concerned, I can have far less ob- jection. But pity for misfortune does not ex- clude justice, and justice is inseparable from the love of truth. As unfortunate, M. de Sansal merits commiseration. As an emigrant, he has right to none. I will say more ; had I been dis- posed to be severe, there existed a cause for stern reprisals on the part of a government to whose kindness he replies by insults. Although I despise those of such a man, 1 appreciate them. They prove an ungrateful heart and a narrow mind. Let him be careful about expressing his hatred. All my colleagues are not equally indulgent.' '' Blame only yourself, sir, for the small share of amenity in these counsels. They are harsh, perhaps, but useful ; and you will do well to lender them effective. Regard, also, the faith* fulness with which I transcribe them as a proof ef the deep interest I take in your welfare, and of my anxiety that the interference of your friends mav be iustified by your future conduct." A.D. 1799.] Josephine at Malmaison. l^*: Correspondence intercepted. False charges against Josephine. For some time a very constant correspond- ence was kept up between Napoleon and Jose- phine, but after the destruction of the P'rench fleet by Lord Nelson in the Bay of Aboukir, and when the Mediterranean had become completely blocked up by English cruisers, almost every letter was intercepted. For political purposes, there were many who wished to destroy the influence which Jose- phine had acquired over the mind of her illus- trious husband. In the accomplishment of this plan, they endeavored, in every way in theii power, to excite the jealousy of Napoleon. The very efforts which Josephine was making to at- tract the most influential men in Paris to her saloon were represented to him as indications of levity of character, and of a spirit of unpar- donable coquetry. The enemies of Josephine had their influential agents in the camp of Napoleon, and with malice, never weary, they whispered these suspicions into his ear. The jealousy of his impassioned nature was strongly aroused. In his indignation, he wrote to Jo- sephine in terms of great severity, accusing her of " playing the coquette with all the world." She was very deeply wounded by these unjust suspicions, and wrote to him a letter in reply, K 146 Josephine. [A.D.1739 Napoleon's confideuce impaired. Employments of Josephine which, for tenderness and delicacjr of sentiment, and the expression of conscious innocence, is hardly surpassed by any thing which has ever been written. Her letter was intercepted, and Napoleon never saw it. For many months near- ly all communication with the army of Egypt was cut off by the vigilance of the English. There were flying reports ever reaching the eai of Josephine of disaster to the army, and even of the death of Napoleon. Josephine was at times in great distress. She knew not the fate of her husband or her son. She knew that, b}" the grossest deception, her husband's confidence in her had been greatly impaired, and she feared that, should he return, she might never be able to regain his affections. Still, she devoted her- self with unwearied diligence in watching, over all his interests, and though her heart was often oppressed with anguish, she did every thing in her power to retain the aspect of cheerfulness dnd of sanguine hope. One of her favorite amusements — the favorite amusement of almost every refined mind — was found in the cultiva* tion of flowers. She passed a portion of every pleasant day with Hortense among the flower- beds, with the hoe, and the watering-pot, and the pruning-knife. Hortense, though she loved A.D.1799.] Josephine at Malmaison. 147 She visits the poor. She comforts the afflicted. the society of her mother, was not fond of these employments, and in subsequent life she never turned to them for a solace. With Josephine, however, this taste remained unchanged through life. She was also very fond of leaving the aris- tocratic walks of Malmaison, and sauntering through the lanes and the rural roads, where she could enter the cottages of the peasants, and listen to their simple tales of joy and grief. To many of these dwellings her visit was as the mission of an angel. Her purse was never closed against the wants of penury. But that which rendered her still more a ministering spirit to the poor was that her heart was ever open, with its full flood of sympathy, to share the grief of their bereavements, and to rejoice in their joy. When she sat upon the throne of France, and even long after she sank into the repose of the grave, the region around Mal- maison was full of recitals of her benevolence. Aristocratic pride at times affected to look down with contempt upon the elevated enjoyments of a noble heart. Thus occupied in pleading with those in power for those of illustrious birth who had, by emigration, forfeited both property and life ; in asiting the sick and the sorrowing in the hum- 148 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 Benevolence of Josephine's heart. ble cottages around her ; in presiding with queenly dignity over the brilliant soirees in her own saloons, where talent and rank were ever assembled, and in diffusing the sunlight of her own cheerful heart throughout the whole house- hold at Malmaison, Josephine, through weary months, awaited tidings from her absent hus- _'4h. A.D.1799.] Wife of First Consul. 149 Deplorable condition of France. The " pear" now ripe. Chapter VIII. Josephine the Wife of the First Consul. rflHE winter of 1799 opened upon France in -^ the deepest gloom. The French were wea- ry of the horrors of the Revolution. All busi- ness was at a stand. The poor had neither employment nor bread. Starvation reigned in the capital. The Austrians had again entered Italy, and beaten the French at almost every point. No tidings were received from Bona- parte and the army in Egypt. Rumors of the death of Napoleon and of a disastrous state of the enterprise filled the city. The government at Paris, composed of men who had emerged from obscurity in the storms of revolution, was imbecile and tyrannical in the extreme. The nation was weary beyond endurance of the strife of contending factions, and ardently desired some strons^ arni to be extended for the restora- tion of order, and for the establishment of an efficient and reputable government. " The pear was ripe." 150 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 Evening party. Landing of Napoleon at Frcjus On the evening of the 9th of November, a large and very brilliant party was assembled in Paris at the house of M. Gohier, president of the Directory. The company included all the most distinguished persons then resident in tha metropolis. Josephine, being in Paris at that time, was one of the guests. About midnight, the gentlemen and ladies were gathering around a supper table very sumptuously spread, when they were startled by a telegraphic announce- ment, communicated to their host, that Bona- parte had landed that morning at Frejus, a small town upon the Mediterranean shore. The announcement created the most profound sen- sation. All knew that Napoleon had not re- turned at that critical moment without an ob- ject. Many were pale with apprehension, con- scious that his popularity with the army would enable him to wrest from them their ill-gotten power. Others were elated with hope. Yet universal embarrassment prevailed. None dared to express their thoughts. No efforts could re- vive the conviviality of the evening, and the party soon dispersed. Josephine, with the deepest emotion, hast- ened home, immediately summoned her car- riage, and, takinc? with her Hortense and Tjouis A.D. 1799.] Wife OF First Consul. 151 Josephine hastens to meet him. They cross each other's path. — — < Bonaparte, set out, withoui allowing an houi for repose, to meet her husband. She was very anxious to have an interview with him before her enemies should have an opportunity to fill his mind with new accusations against her The most direct route from Paris to Frejus passes through the city of Lyons. There ia another and more retired route, not frequently traveled, but which Napoleon, for some un- known reason, took. It was a long journey of weary, weary leagues, over hills and plains. Jo- sephine alighted not for refreshment or slum- ber, but with fresh relays of horses, night and day, pressed on to meet her spouse. When she arrived at Lyons, to her utter consternation, ^he heard that Napoleon had taken the other route, and, some forty-eight hours before, had passed her on the way to Paris. No words can describe the anguish which these tidings caused her. Her husband would arrive in Paris and find her ab- sent. He would immediately be surrounded by those who would try to feed his jealousy. Two or three days must elapse ere she could possibly retrace her steps. Napoleon arrived in Paris the 10th of November. It was not until nearly midnight of the 13th that Josephine re- turned Worn out with the fatigues of travel* 15^5 Josephine. [A.D.1799. Josephine's enemies succeed in rousing the anger of Napoleon. ing, of anxiety, and of watching, she drove with a heavy heart to their house in the Rue Chan- tereine. The enemies whom Josephine had most to fear were the brothers and the sisters-in-law of Napoleon. They were entirely dependent upon their illustrious brother for their own advance- ment in life, and were exceedingly jealous of the influence which Josephine had exerted over his mind. They feared that she would gain an exclusive empire where they wished also to reign. Taking advantage of Josephine's ab- sence, they had succeeded in rousing Napoleon's indignation to the highest pitch. They accused her. of levity, of extravagance, of forgetfulness of him, and of ever playing the coquette with all the debauchees of Paris. Napoleon, stimu- lated by that pride which led the Roman em- peror to say, " Caesar's wife must not be sus-- pected," threatened loudly "divorce — open and public divorce." Said one maliciously to him, " She will appear before you with all her fasci- nations, explain matters ; you will forgive all, and tranquillity will be restored." " Never ! never !" exclaimed the irritated general, strid- ing to and fro through the room. " I forgive ! never ! You know me. Were I not sure of A.T).1799.] Wife of First Consol. 15^ Ifeeting of Josephine and Eugene. She is repulsed by NiTpoleon my resolution, I would pluck out this heart and cast it into the fire." Such was the mood of mind in which Napo- leon was prepared to receive Josephine, after aa absence of eighteen months. Josephine and Hortense alighted in the court-yard, and were immediately enfolded in the embraces of Eu- gene, who was anxiously awaiting their arrival. With trembling steps and a throbbing heart, Josephine, accompanied by her son and daugh- ter, ascended the stairs to a small circular fam- ily room where they expected to findr Napoleon. He was there with his brother Joseph. As his wife and her children entered the room. Napo- leon glanced sternly at them, and instantly said to Josephine, in a severe and commanding tone, almost before she had crossed the threshold, " Madame ! it is my wish that you retire im- mediately to Malmaison." Josephine came near falling lifeless upon thf» floor. She was caught in the arms of Eugene, who, in the most profound grief, had kept near the side of his revered and beloved mother. Ho supported her fainting steps, as, sobbing with anguish, she silently retired to her apartment. Napoleon, greatly agitated, traversed the room with hasty strides. The sight of Josephine had 154 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 Josephine's prompt obedience. Napoleon relents, rekindled all his love, and he was struggling with desperate efforts to cherish his sense of wrong, and to fortify himself against any return of clemency. In a few moments, Josephine and Hortense, with Eugene, were heard descending the stairs to leave the house. It was midnight. For a week Josephine had lived in her carriage almost without food or sleep. Nothing but intensity of excitement had prevented her from sinking down in utter weariness and exhaustion. It was a drive of thirty miles to Malmaison. Na- poleon was not prepared for such prompt obe- dience. Even his stern heart could not resist its instinctive pleadings for his wife and her daughter. He hastened from his room, and, though his pride would not allow him directly to urge Josephine to remain, he insisted upon Eugene's returning, and urged it in such a way that he came back, leading with him his mother and his sister. Napoleon, however, addressed not a word to either of them. Josephine threw herself upon a couch in her apartment, and Na- poleon, in gloomy silence, entered his cabinet Two days of wTctchedness passed away, during which no intercourse took place between the estranged parties. But the anger of the bus- A.D 1799.] Wife of First Consul. 157 The reconciliation. Napoleon vanquished band was gradually subsiding. Love for Jose- phine was slowly gaining strength in his heart. On the third day, his pride and passion were sufficiently subdued to allow him to enter the apartment where Josephine and Hortense had kept themselves secluded, awaiting his pleasure. Josephine was seated at a toilet table, with her face buried in her hands, and absorbed in the profoundest grief. On the table were exposed the letters which she had received from Napo- leon during his absence, and which she had ev- idently been reading. Hortense was standing silently and pensively in an alcove by the win- dow, half concealed by the curtain. Napoleon advanced with an irresolute step, hesitated for a moment, and then said, " Josephine !" She started up at the sound of that well-known voice, and, her beautiful countenance all suf- fused with tears, mournfully exclaimed, ^^ Mon ami,^^ in that peculiar tone, so pathetic, so mu- sical, which ever thrilled upon the heart of Na- poleon. " My friend" was the term of endear- ment with which she invariably addressed her husband. Napoleon was vanquished. He ex- tended his hand to his deeply- wronged wife. She threw herself into his arms, pillowed her aching head upon his bosom, and in the fullness 158 Josephine. [AD. 1799 Reception of Napoleon on his return to France. of blended joy and anguish wept convulsively An explanation of several hours ensued. Ever^ shade of suspicion was obliterated from his mind He received Josephine again to his entire con- fidence, and this confidence was never again in- terrupted. When Napoleon landed at Frejus, he was re- ceived with the most enthusiastic demonstra- tion of delight. There was a universal im- pression that the hero of Italy, the conqueror of Egypt, had returned thus unexpectedly to France for the accomplishment of some mag- nificent enterprise ; yet no one knew what to anticipate. The moment the frigate dropped anchor in the bay, and it was announced that Napoleon was on board, thousands surrounded the vessel in boats, and the air was filled with enthusiastic acclamations. His journey to Paris was one continued scene of triumph. Crowds gathered around him at every stopping-place, intoxicated with joy. The bells rang their merriest peals ; the booming of cannon echoed along the hill sides, and brilliant bonfires by night blazed upon every eminence. Upon his arrival in Paris, the soldiers, recognizing their leader in so many brilliant victories, greeted him with indescribable enthusiasm, and erica A.D.17yy.J Wife of First Consul. 159 He overthrows the Directory. lie is sustained by the people of "Vive Bonaparte!" resounded through the metropolis. His saloon, ever thronged with generals and statesmen, and all who were most illustrious in intellect and rank, resembled the court of a monarch. Even the most prominent men in the Directory, disgusted with the prog- ress of measures which they could not control, urged him to grasp the reins of power, assuring him that there was no hope for France but in his strong arm. In less than four weeks from his arrival in Paris, the execrated government was overturned. Napoleon, Sieyes, and Duces were appointed consuls, and twenty-five mem- bers were appointed from each of the councils to unite with the consuls in forminsj a new Con- stitution. One unanimous voice of approval rose from all parts of France in view of this change. No political movement could take place more strongly confirmed by the popular will. Napoleon hastened from the scenes of peril and agitation through which he had passed in the accomplishment of this change, that he might be the first to announce to Josephine the political victory he had achieved. During the perilous day, when, in the midst of outcries, daggers, and drawn swords, he had been contending with the Council of the Five 160 Josephine. [A.t).1799 Paiafiil suspense of Josephine. Napoleon relicvca it Hundred, lie could find not even one moment to dispatch a note from St. Cloud to his wife. The previous day he had kept her constantly informed of the progress of events. Josephine remained throughout the whole of the 19th of November, from morning until evening, without sight or tidings of her husband. She knew that, in the fierce strife of parties in France, there was no safety for life ; and when the darkness of night settled down around her, and still no word from her Napoleon, her anxiety amounted almost to distraction. The rumbling of every carriage upon the pavement — every noise in the streets aroused her hopes or her fears. Worn out with anxiety, at midnight she threw herself upon her bed, but not to sleep. Several weary hours of suspense lingered slowly along, when, at four o'clock in the morning, she heard the well-known footsteps of her husband upon the stairs. She sprang to meet him. He fondly clasped h-er in his arms, and assured her that he had not spoken to a single individual since he had taken the oaths of ofl&ce, that the voice of his Josephine might be the first to congratulate him upon his virtual accession to the empire of France. An animated conversation ensued. A.D.1800.] Wife of First Consul. 161 His usurping ambition. Remark of the Abb6 Sifiyes and then Napoleon, throwing himself upon his couch for a few moments' repose, gayly said, " Good night, my Josephine I to-morrow we sleep in the Luxembourg." The next day the three consuls met in Paris. His colleagues, however, immediately perceived that the towering ambition of Napoleon would brook no rival. He showed them the absurdity of their plans, and compelled them to assent to the superior wisdom of his own. The untiring vigor of his mind, the boldness and energy of his thoughts, and his intuitive and almost mi- raculous familiarity with every branch of polit- ical science, overawed his associates, and the whole power passed, with hardly the slightest resistance, into his own hands. Immediately after their first interview, the Abbe Sieyes, who combined great weakness with extensive knowl- edge, remarked to Talleyrand and others, " Gen- tlemen, I perceive that we have got a master. Bonaparte can do and will do every thing him- self. But," he continued, after a pause, "it is better to submit than to protract dissensions forever." In this most astonishing revolution, thus sud denly accomplished, and without the shedding of a drop of blood. Napoleon was much indebted 162 Josephine. [A.D 1800 Josephine secures friends to Napoleon. Residence at the Luxembourg, to the influence which his wife had exerted in his behalf during his absence in Egypt. The dinners she had given, the guests the had en- tertained in her saloons evening after evening, consisting of the most distinguished scholars, and statesmen, and generals in the metropolis, had contributed greatly to the popularity of her husband, and had surrounded him with devoted friends. Napoleon ever acknowledged his obli- gations to Josephine for the essential service she had thus rendered him. The next morning Napoleon and Josephine removed from their elegant yet comparatively plebeian residence in the Rue Chantereine to the palace of the Luxembourg. This, however, was but the stepping-stone to the Tuillerics, the world-renowned abode of the monarchs of France. They remained for two months at the Luxembourg. The energies of Napoleon were employed every moment in promoting changes in the internal affairs of France, which even his bitterest enemies admit were marked with the most eminent wisdom and benevolence. Durinsj the two months of their residence at the Luxembourg, no domestic event of import- ance occurred, except the marriage of Murat with Caroline, the sister of Napoleon. Carolina A.D. ISOO.J Wife OF First Consul. 165 Marriage of Murat and Caroline. Tne Tuillenes refurnished was exceedingly beautiful. Murat was one of the favorite aids of Bonaparte. Their nuptials were celebrated with great splendor, and the gay- Parisians began again to be amused with some- thing like the glitter of royalty. Each day Napoleon became more popular and his power more firmly established. Soon all France was prepared to see the first consul take up his residence in the ancient apartments of the kings of France. The Tuilleries had been sacked again and again by the mob. The gorgeous furniture, the rich paintings, and all the voluptuous elegance which the wealth of Louis XIY. could create, had been thrown into the court-yard and consumed by the infuriated populace. Royalty itself had been pursued and insulted in its most sacred retreats. By slow and cautious advances. Napoleon refurnished these magnificent saloons. The emblems of Jacobin misrule were silently ef- faced. Statues of Brutus and Washington, of Demosthenes, and of others renowned for illus- trious deeds, were placed in the vacant niches, and the Tuilleries again appeared resplendent as in the days of pristine pride and power. On the morning of the 19th of February, 1800, all Paris was in commotion to witness 164 Josephine. [AD. 1800. Napoleon and Josephine take up their residence in the Tuillerics. the transfer of the embryo court of the first consul and his colleagues from the Luxembourg to the Tuilleries. Already the colleagues of Napoleon had become so entirely eclipsed by the superior brilliance of their imperious asso- ciate that their names were almost forgotten The royal apartments were prepared for Napo- leon, while those in the Pavilion of Flora were assigned to the two other consuls. The three consuls entered a magnificent carriage, drawn by six white horses. A gorgeous train of ofii- cers, with six thousand picked troops in the richest uniform, surrounded the cortege. Many of the long-abolished usages of royalty were renewed upon that day. Twenty thousand soldiers, in most imposing military array, were drawn up before the palace. The moment the carriage appeared, the very heavens seemed rent with their cries, "Vive le premier consul !*' The two associate consuls were ciphers. They sat at his side as pages to embellish his triumph. This day placed Napoleon in reality upon the throne of France, and Josephine that evening moved, a queen, in the apartments hallowed by the beauty and the sufferings of Maria An- toinette. The suite of rooms appropriated to the wife A.D.1800.] Wife of First Consul. 16^= Apartments of Josephine. Her dress. Her social triumph of the first consul consisted of two mas:nificen1 saloons, with private apartments adjoining. No French monarch ever sauntered through a more dazzling scene than that which graced the draw- ing-rooms of Josephine on this occasion. Em- .bassadors from nearly all the courts of Europe were present. The army contributed its ut- most display of rank and military pomp to em- bellish the triumph of its most successful gen- eral. And the metropolis contributed all that it still retained of brilliance in ancestral renown or in intellectual achievement. When Josephine entered the gorgeously-illu- minated apartments of the palace, leaning upon the arm of Talleyrand, and dressed in the ele- gance of the most perfect simplicity, a murmur of admiration arose from the whole assembly. She was attired in a robe of white muslin. Her hair fell in graceful ringlets upon her neck and shoulders. A necklace of pearls of great value completed her costume. The queenly elegance of her figure, the inimitable grace of her move- ments, the peculiar conversational tact she pos- sessed, and the melody of a voice which, onco heard, never was forgotten, gave to Josephine, on this eventful evening, a social triumph cor- responding with that which Napoleon had ro- 166 Josephine. [A.D. ISOO Josephine th3 Queen of Hearts. Her varied accomplishments. ceived during the day. She entered the roonrjF to welcome her guests before her husband. A s she made the tour of the apartments, supported by the minister, whose commanding figure tow- ered above all the rest, she was first introduced to the foreign embassadors, and then to others of distinguished name and note. "Napoleon wins battles, but Josephine wins hearts." This was the all-appropriate theater for the triumph of Josephine. Here she was entirely at home. Instinct taught her every thing that was grace- ful and pleasing. Etiquette, that stern tyrant so necessary for the control of common minds, was compelled to bow in subjection to Jose- phine, for her actions became a higher law. In the exuberance of benevolent joy, she floated through this brilliant scene, wherever she ap- peared exciting admiration, though she sought only to diffuse enjoyment. Josephine was now about thirty-three yeai.^ of age, and while in personal charms she re tained all the fascination of more youthful yearsj her mind, elevated and ennobled by reverses and sufferings most magnanimously borne, and cul- tivated by the daily exercise of its rich endow- ments, enabled her to pass from the circles of fashion to the circles of science, from those who A.D.1800.] Wife of First Consul. 167 Symmetry of her form. Attractiveness of her conversation thought only of the accomplishments of the per- son to those who dwelt in the loftiest regions of the intellect, and to be equally admired by both. Her figure appears to have been molded into the absolute perfection of the female frame, nei- ther too large for the utmost delicacy of femi- nine beauty, nor too small for queenly dignity. The exquisite symmetry of her form and the elasticity of her step gave an etherial aspect to her movements. Her features, of Grecian out- line, were finely modeled, and through them all the varying emotions of the soul were unceas- ingly beaming. No one probably ever possessed in a higher degree this resistless charm of femi- nine loveliness. Her eyes were of a deep blue, and possessed a winning tenderness of expres- sion when reposing upon those she loved which could not be resisted. Napoleon, even when most agitated by the conflicts of his stormy life, was speedily subdued by the tranquilizing pow- er of her looks of love. But the tone and mod- ulations of her voice in conversation constituted the most remarkable attraction of this most at- tractive woman. No one could listen to her sparkling, flowing, musical words without feel- ing the fascination of their strange melody. 168 Josephine. [A.D. 1800. Sweetness of Josephine's voice. Attractions of Malmaisott " The first applauses of the French people," says Napoleon, " fell upon my ear sweet as tho voice of Josephine." The rural charms of Malmaison, however, exerted a more powerful sway over both the first consul and his companion than the more splen- did attractions of the Tuilleries. The Revolu- tionary government had abolished the Sabbath, and appointed every tenth day for rest and rec- reation. Napoleon and Josephine habitually spent this day at P*Ialmaison. There, in the retirement of green fields and luxuriant groves, surrounded by those scenes of nature which had peculiar charms for them both, they found tha i quiet happiness which is in vain sought amid the turmoil of the camp or the splendor of tht court. Josephine, in particular, here found her most serene and joyous hours. She regretted the high ambition of her husband, while, at the same time, she felt a wife's pride and gratifica- tion in view of the honors which were so pro- fusely heaped upon him. It delighted her to see him here lay aside the cares of state, and enjoy with her the unostentatious pleasures of the flower-garden and the farm -yard. And when the hour came for them to return from their rural villa to their city palace, NapoleoD \.D. 1800.] Wife OF First Consul. 1G9 The dangers of greatoeea. Josephine's anxiety and ceire, often said, with a sigh, "Now it is necessary for us to go and put on again the yoke of mis- ery." The dangers of greatness soon began to hov. cr around the path of the first consul. Jose- phine was continually alarmed with rumors of conspiracies and plots of assassination. The utter indifference of Napoleon to all such perils, and his entire disregard of all precautionary measures, only increased the anxiety of his wife. The road leading from Paris to Malmaison wound through a wild district, then but thinly inhabited, and which presented many facilities for deeds of violence. Whenever Napoleon was about to traverse this road, Josephine sent the servants of their private establishment to scru- tinize all its lurking-places where any foes might be concealed. Napoleon, though grati- fied by this kind care, often amused and good- naturedly teased Josephine with most ludicrous accounts of the perils and hair-breadth escapes which he had encountered. She also had largo and powerful dogs trained to guard the grounds of Malmaison from any intrusion by night. On the evening of the day when Napoleon made his entry into the Tuilleries, he remarked to Bourrienne, "It is not enough to be in the 170 - Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Remark of Napoleon to Bourrienne. Tuilleries, we must take measures to remain there. Who has not inhabited this palace ? It has been the abode of robbers — of the Conven- tion. There is your brother's house, from which, eight years ago, we saw the good Louis XVI. besieged in the Tuilleries and carried off into captivity. But you need not fear a repetition of the scene. Let them attempt it with me if they dareP To all the cautions of his anxious wife respecting assassination, he ever quietly replied, " My dear Josephine, they dare not do it." A.D. 1800.] Chakauter developed. 171 Becond Italian campaign. Its brilliant resultz, Chapter IX. Developments of CHARAcrER. 1~^URING Napoleon's absence in Egypt the ^-^ Austrians had again invaded Italy. The French troops had been beaten in many bat- tles, and driven from vast extents of territory, over which Napoleon had caused the flag of the Republic to float in triumph. The first consul having, with almost superhuman energy, ar- ranged the internal affairs of his government, now turned his thoughts toward the defeated armies of France, which had been driven back into the fastnesses of the Alps. "I must go," said he, '' my dear Josephine. But I will not forget you, and I will not be absent long." He bade adieu to his wife at the Tuilleries on the 7th of May, 1800. At midnight of the 2d of July he returned, having been absent less than two months. In that brief period he drove the Austrians from all their strongholds, regained Italy, and by a campaign more brilliant than any other which history has ever recorded, add- ed immeasurably to his own moral powei. 'i^hesG a.stonishing victories excited the Paris- 172 Josephine. [A.I). 1800 Napoleon's desire to leave a name. A faithful correspondent ians to a delirium of joy. Night after night the streets were illuminated, and whenever Napo- leon appeared, crowds thronged him, filling the air with their acclamations. These triumphs, however, instead of satisfying Napoleon, did but add fuel to his all-absorbing ambition. *' A few more great events," said he, " like those of this campaign, and I may really descend to posteri- ty. But still it is little enough. I have con- quered, it is true, in less than two years, Cairo, Paris, Milan. But, were I to die to-morrow, half a page of general history would, after ten centuries, be all that would be devoted to my exploits." During his absence Josephine passed her time at Malm.aison. And it surely is indica- tive not only of the depth of Napoleon's love for Josephine, but also of his appreciation of those delicate attentions which could touch the heart of a loving wife, that in this busiest of cam- paigns, in which, by day and by night, he was upon the horse's back, with hardly one moment allowed for refreshment or repose, rarely did a single day pass in which he did not transmit some token of afiection to Malmaison. Jose- phine daily watched, with the most intense in- terest, the arrival of the courier with the brief ^.D. 1800.] Character developed. 173 Delicate attentions of Napoleon to Josephine. Her pastimes. and almost illegible note from her husband. Sometimes the blurred and blotted lines were hastily written upon horseback, with the pom- mel of his saddle for his writing-desk. Some- times they were written, at his dictation, by his secretary, upon a drum-head, on the field of carnage, when the mangled bodies of the dy- ing and the dead were strewed all around him, and the thunders of the retreating: battle were still echoing over the plains. These delicate attentions to his wife exhibit a noble trait in the character of Napoleon. And she must have been indeed a noble woman who could have in- spired such a mind with esteem and tenderness so profound. Josephine employed much of her time in su- perintending those improvements which she thought would please her husband on his re- turn ; creating for him pleasant little surprises, as she should guide his steps to the picturesque walk newly opened, to the rustic bridge span- ning the stream, to the rural pavilion, where, in the evening twilight, they could commune. She often rode on horseback with Hortense, who was peculiarly fond of all those pleasures which had the concomitants of graceful display. After Napoleon's triumphant return from It- 174 Josephine. f A.D. 1800 Retireuaent at Malmaison. Private theatricals aiy, the visits to Malmaison were more frequent than ever before. Napoleon and Josephine oft- sn spent several days there ; and in after yeara they frequently spoke of these hours as the pleasantest they had passed in life. The agree- able retirement of Malmaison was, how^ever, changed into enjoyment more public and social by the crowds of visitors with which its saloons and parks were filled. Josephine received her guests with republican simplicity, united with the utmost elegance. Her reception-room was continually thronged with the most distinguish- ed officers of the government, renowned gener- als, and all the men most illustrious for birth and talent the metropolis contained. The circle assembled here was, indeed, a happy one. A peculiar bond of union existed throughout the whole household, for Napoleon, as well as Josephine, secured the most devoted attachment of all the servants. One of their fa vorite amusements was family theatricals. Eu- gene and Hortense took an. active part in these performances, in which both had talents to excel. But the favorite and most characteristic amusement at Malmaison was the game of " Prisoners," a common game among the school- boys of France, though comparatively little A D. 1800.] Character developed. 175 The game of " Prisoners." The mode of playing it known in this country. The company is divi- ded into two parties. Those who are appoint- ed leaders choose each their respective sides Bounds are assigned to each party, and a par- ticular point as a fortress. If any one is caught away from the fortress by one wlio left his own station after the captive left the hostile fort, ho is a prisoner, and must remain at the appoint- ed prison until rescued. For instance, Hor- tense leaves her fortress, and cautiously invades the territory of the enemy. Josephine darts after her, and eagerly pursues her over the greensward. Eugene, who remains at his for- tress until after Josephine left hers, bounds after his mother. It is now her turn to flee. But others of her party, who have remained under the protection of their fortress, rush to her rescue. Eugene, however, succeeds in touch- ing his mother before they reach him, and leads her off in triumph a prisoner. A tree, perhaps, at a little distance, is her prison. Here she must remain until rescued by a touch from one of her own party. But if the one who is rushing to her rescue is touched by one of the other party who left his fortress an instant later, an- other captive is taken to stand by her side. In this mimicry of war Napoleon always de« 176 Josephine. [A.D.1800 Napoleon's favorite amusement. He is no misanthrope lighted to engage. After dinner, upon the lawn at Malmaison, the most distinguished gentlemen and ladies, not of France only, but of all Europe, were often actively and most mirthfully engaged in this sport. Kings, and queens, and princes of the blood royal were often seen upon the lawn at Malmaison pursu- ing and pursued. Napoleon and Josephine, and most of the friends who surrounded them, were in the vigor of athletic youth, and, in entire abandonment to the frolic of the hour, the air resounded with their shouts. It was observed that Napoleon was ever anxious to choose Jo- sephine as the first on his side, and he seemed nervously excited, if she was taken prisoner, until she was rescued. He was a poor runner, and often fell, roUing over headlong upon the grass, while he and all his associates were con- vulsed with laughter. When there was no spe- cial engagement demanding attention, this sport often continued for hours. Napoleon was often taken captive. But when Josephine was im- prisoned, he was incessantly clapping his hands, and shouting, "A rescue! a rescue!" till she was released. A gloomy misanthrope, wrapped in self, could not have enjoyed these scenes of innocent hilarity. A..D.1800.] Character developed. 177 Josephine's expansive bene^■olence. But the life of Josephine was not devoted to amusement. While she entered with warmth into these sports, being the soul of every festive party, her heart was consecrated to the promo- tion of happiness in every way in her power. When a child, playing with the little negresses of Martinique, she was adored as their queen- When in penury, crossing the Atlantic, by kind sympathy manifested for the sick and the sor- rowful, she won the hearts of the seamen. When d prisoner, under sentence of death, by her cheerfulness, her forgetfulness of self, and her hourly deeds of delicate attention to others, she became an object of universal love in those cells of despair. When prosperity again dawned upon her, and she was in the enjoyment of an ample competence, every cottage in the vicinity of Malmaison testified to her benevolence. And now, when placed in a position of power, all her influence was exerted to relieve the misfortunes of those illustrious men whom the storms of revolution had driven from their homes and from France. She never forgot the unfortunate, but devoted a considerable portion of her income to the relief of the emigrants. She was at times accused of extravagance. Her nature was generous in the extreme, and the profusion M 178 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Josephine's unwearied exertions in behalf of the emigrants. of her expenditures was an index of her expan* sive benevolence. Napoleon, soon after he became first consul, published a decree, inviting the emigrants to return, and did what lie could to restore to them their confiscated estates. There were, however, necessarily exceptions from the general act of amnesty. Cases were continually arising of peculiar perplexity and hardship, where widow? and orphans, reduced from opulence to penury, sought lost property, which, during the tumult of the times, had become involved in inextrica- ble embarrassments. All such persons made application to Josephine. She ever found time to listen to their tales of sorrow, to speak words of sympathy, and, with great soundness of judg- ment, to render them all the aid in her power. '' Josephine," said Napoleon, in reference to these her applications for the unfortunate, '' will not take a refusal. But, it must be confessed, she rarely undertakes a case which has not pro- priety, at least, on its side." The Jacobin laws had fallen with fearful severity upon all the members of the ancient aristocracy and all the friends of royalty. The cause of these victims of anarchy Josephine was ever ready to espouse A noble family by the name of Decrest had A.D.1800.] Character developed 179 The Marquis of Decrest Accidental death 3f his sod been indebted to the interposition of the wife of the first consul for their permission to return to France. As nearly all their property had disap- peared during their exile, Josephine continued to befriend them with her influence and her purse. On the evening of a festival day, a grand display of fire-works was exhibited on the banks of the Seine. A rocket, misdirected, struck a son of the marquis on the breast, and instantly killed him. The young man, who was on the eve of his marrias^e to the dausfhter of an ancient friend, was an officer of great promise, and the hope of the declining family. His death was a terrible calamity, as well as a most afflictive bereavement. The father aban- doned himself to all the delirium of inconsolable grief, and was so utterly lost in the depths of despair, that it was feared his mind would nev- er again recover its tone. The Duke of Or- leans was grand-uncle of the young man who was killed, and Madam.e Montesson, the moth- er of Louis Philippe, sent for her distressed rel- atives that she might administer to their conso- lation. All her endeavors, however, were en- tirely unavailing. In the midst of this afflictive scene, Josephiua entered the saloon of Madams Montesson. Her 180 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Josephine arrests the grief of Decrest. Her tenderriesa own heart taught her that in such a grief as this words were valueless. Silently she took by the hand the eldest daughter, a beautiful girl, whose loveliness plead loudly for a father's care, and in the other arm she took their infant child of fifteen months, and, with her own cheeks bathed in tears, she kneeled before the stricken mourner. He raised his eyes and saw Josephine, the wife of the first consul, kneeling before him, and imploringly presenting his two ohildren. He was at first astonished at the sight. Then, bursting into tears, he exclaimed, *' Yes ! I have much for which I am yet bound to live. These children have claims upon me, and I must no longer yield to despair." A lady who was present on this occasion says, '' I wit- nessed this scene, and shall never forget it. The wife of the first consul expressed, in lan- guage which I will not attempt to imitate, all that tenderness which the maternal bosom alone knows. She was the very image of a minis- tering angel, for the touching charm of her voice and look pertained more to heaven than to earth." Joaephine had herself seen days as dark as could lower over a mortal's path. Love for her children was then the only tie which bound her to life. In those days of anguish she A.D.1800.] Character developed. 18] The Infernal Machine. Its power. Hprtense wounded learned the only appeal which, under these cir- cumstances, could touch a despairing father's heart. Several conspiracies were formed about this time against the life of the first consul. That of the Infernal Machine was one of the most desperate, reckless, and atrocious which histo y has recorded. On the evening of December 24, 1800, Napoleon was going to the opera. Three gentlemen were with him in his carriage. Jo- sephine, with Hortense and one or two others, followed in another carriage. In passing from the Tuilleries to the theater, it was necessary to pass through the narrow street St. Nicaire. A cart, apparently by accident overturned, ob- structed the passage. The coachman, howev- er, who was driving his horses very rapidly, crowded his way by. He had barely passed the cart when a terrific explosion took place, v/hich was heard all over Paris. Eight persons were instantly killed and more than sixty wounded. Some of the houses in the vicinity were nearly blown down. The windows of both the carriages were shattered, and Hortense was slightly wounded by the broken glass. Napo- leon drove on to the opera, where he found the audience in the utmost consternation, for th^ 182 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Napoleon proceeds to the opera. Narrow escape of Josephine explosion had shaken the whole city. He en- tered with a countenance as perfectly calm and untroubled as if nothing unusual had occurred. Every eye was fixed upon him. As soon as it was perceived that his person was safe, thun- ders of applause shook the walls of the theater. On 'every side Napoleon was greeted with the most devoted expressions of attachment. Soon Josephine came in, pale and trembling, and, after remaining half an hour, they both retired to the Tuilleries. Napoleon found the palace crowded with all the public functionaries of Paris, who had assembled to congratulate him upon his escape. The life of Josephine was saved on this oc- casion by apparently the merest accident. She had recently received a magnificent shawl, a present from Constantinople, and was preparing to wear it that evening for the first time. Na- poleon, however, in playful criticism, condemned the shawl, remarking upon its pattern and its color, and commending one which he deemed far more beautiful. "You are a bold man," said Josephine, smiling, " in venturing to criti- cise my toilette. I shall take my revenge in giving you a lesson how to attack a redoubt, However," she continued, turning to one of lier /i.D. 1800.] Character Developed. 183 Treachery of the Royalists. Fouch6. attendants, " bring me the general's favorite I will wear tliat." A delay of a few moments was caused in exchanging the shawls. In the mean time, Napoleon, with his friends, entered his carriage and drove on. Josephine soon fol- lowed. She had but just entered the street when the explosion took place. Had she fol- lowed, as usual, directly behind Napoleon, her death would have been almost inevitable. It was subsequently ascertained, greatly tu the surprise of Napoleon and of all Europe, that ^.he Royalists were the agents in this conspiracy. Napoleon had been their benefactor, and while he knew it to be impossible to replace the Bour- bons upon the throne of France, he did every thing in his power to mitigate the misfortunes which Jacobin violence had inflicted upon their friends. The first consul made no dissjuise of his utter detestation of the Jacobins, and of their reign of merciless tyranny. He consequently supposed that they were the authors of the atro- cious crime. The real authors of the conspiracy were, however, soon discovered. Fouche, whom Bonaparte disliked exceedingly for his inhuman deeds during the Revolution, was the Minister of Police. Upon him mainly devolved the trial and the punishment of the accused. Josephine 184 Josephine. [A.D.180Q Josephine's letter to the Minister of Police. immediately wrote a letter to Fouche, mosi strikingly indicative of the benevolence of her noble heart,' and of that strength of mind which could understand that the claims of justice musl not pass unheeded. *' Citizen-Minister, — While I yet tremble al the frightful event which has just occurred, 1 am disquieted and distressed through fear of tlK punishment necessarily to be inflicted on the guilty, who belong, it is said, to famihes with whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. I shall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and dis- consolate wives ; and my heart will be broken through my inability to obtain all the mercy for which I would plead. '' I know that the clemency of the first con- sul is great, his attachment to me extreme ; b?:.1 the crime is too dreadful that terrible example- should not be necessary. The chief of the gov ernment has not been alone exposed ; and it k that which will render him severe — inflexible 1 conjure you, therefore, to do all in your power to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. Do not detect all those persons who may have been accomplices in these odious transactions. Let not France, so long overwhelmed in consterna- tion by public executions, groan anew beneath A.D.1800.] Character Developed. 185 She pleads for lenity in behalf of tlie guilty. 8uch inflictions. It is even better to endeavoi to soothe the public mind than to exasperate men by fresh terrors. In short, wfien the ring- leaders of this nefarious attempt shall have been secured, let severity give place to pity for infe- rior agents, seduced as they may have been by dangerous falsehoods or exaggerated opinions. ''When just invested with supreme power, the first consul, as seems to me, ought rather to gain hearts than to be exhibited as ruling slaves. Soften by your counsels whatever may be too violent in his just resentment. Punish — alas ! that you must certainly do — but par- don still more. Be also the support of those un fortunate men who, by frank avowal or repent- ance, shall expiate a portion of their crime. " Having myself narrowly escaped perishing in the Revolution, you must regard as quite natural my interference on behalf of those who can be saved without involving in new danger Ihe life of my husband, precious to me and to France. On this account, do, I entreat you, make a wide distinction between the authors of the crime and those who, through weakness or fear, have consented to take a part therein. As a woman, a wife, and a mother, I must feel the heart-rendings of those who will apply to me. 186 Josephine. [A.D.lSOa Character of Louis Napoleon. Act, citizen minister, in such a manner that the number of these may be lessened This will spare me much grief. Never will I turn away from the supplications of misfortune. But in the present instance you can do infinitel} more than I, and you will, on this account, excuse my im- portunity. Rely on my gratitude and esteem.'^ Hortense was now eighteen years of age Louis Napoleon, brother of the first consul, was twenty-four. The plan was formed by Napo- leon and Josephine of uniting them in marriage Louis was a studious, imaginative, pensive man. with no taste for the glitter and pomp of fashion, and with a decided aversion to earth's noisy ambition. He loved communing with his own thoughts, the falling leaf, the sighing wind — the fireside with its books, its solitude, its sacred so- ciety of one or two congenial friends. He be- longed to that class of men, always imbued with deep feeling, whose happiness is only found in those hallowed affections which bind kindred hearts in congenial pursuits and joys. As Napo- leon was riding triumphantly upon his war-horse over the Austrian squadrons in Italy, achieving those brilliant victories which paved his way to the throne of France, Louis, then a young man but nineteen years of age, met in Paris a young A.D. 1801.] Character developed. 187 He is disappointed in love. Napoleon tries to heal the wound. lady, the daughter of an emigrant noble, for whom lie formed a strong attachment, and his wholo floul became absorbed in the passion of love. Na- poleon was informed of this attachment, and, ap prehensive that the alliance of his brother with one of the old Royalist families might endanger his own ambitious projects, he sent him away on a military commission, and with his inflexible will and strong arm broke off the connection. The young lady was soon afterward married to another gentleman, and poor Louis was plunged into depths of disappointment and melancholy, from whence he never emerged. Life was ever after to him but a cloudy day, till, with a grief- worn spirit, he sank into the grave. Napoleon, conscious of the wound he had m- flicted upon his sensitive brother, endeavored, in various ways, to make amends. There was very much in his gentle, affectionate, and fervent spir- it to attract the tender regard of Napoleon, and he ever after manifested toward him a disposi- tion of peculiar kindness. It was long before Louis would listen to the proposition of his mar- riage with Hortense. His affections still clung, though hopelessly, yet so tenaciously to the lost object of his idolatry, that he could not think, without pain, of his union with another. More 188 Josephine., [A.B. 1801 Character of ilortensc. She is married to Louis uncongenial nuptials could hardly have been imagined. Hortense was a beautiful, merry, thoughtless girl — amiable, but very fond of ex- citement and display. In the ball-room, the theater, and other places of brilliant entertain- ment, she found her chief pleasures. In addi- tion to this incongruity, she was already in love with the handsome Duroc, the favorite aid of Napoleon. It is not strange that such a young lady should have seen as little to fancy in the disappointed and melancholy Louis as he could see attractive in one who lived but for the pa- geantry of the passing hour. Thus both parties w^ere equally averse to the match. The tact of Josephine, however, and the power of Napoleon combined, soon overcame all obstacles, and the mirth-loving maiden and the pensive scholar were led to their untoward nuptials. Hortense became more easily reconciled to the match, as her powerful father promised, in consequence of this alliance, to introduce her to seats of gran* deur where all her desires should be gratified. Louis, resigning himself to any lot in a world which had no further joy in store for him, suf- fered himself to be conducted submissively to the altar. At the fete given in honor of this marriage, ri.D. 1801 Character developed. 18(> In uncongenial union. Marriage of Duroc the splendors of ancient royalty seemed to be re- vived. But every eye could see the sadness of the newly-married bride beneath the profusion of diamonds and flowers with wdiich she was adorned. Louis Napoleon, the present President of the French Republic, is the only surviving oif- spring of this uncongenial union. The gay and handsome Duroc, who had been the accepted lover of Hortense, was soon after married to an heiress, who brought him, with an immense fortune, a haughty spirit and an irri- table temper, w^iich embittered all his days. The subsequent life of Hortense presents one of the most memorable illustrations of the insuffi- ciency of human grandeur to promote happiness. Josephine v/itnessed with intense solicitude the utter want of congeniality existing between them, and her heart often bled as she saw alien ation growing stronger and stronger, until it re- sulted in an entire separation. Hortense might easily have won and retained the affections ol the pensive but warm-hearted Louis, had she followed tie counsels of her noble mother. Jo- sephine, herself the almost perfect model of a wife, was well qualified to give advice in such a case. The follow^ing letter, written to Hortense some time before her separation from Louis, ex- 190 Josephine. [A.D. 1801 Letter from Josephine to Hortense. hibits in a most amiable light the character of Josephine. To Queen Hortense. ^^ What I learned eight days ago gave me tb« greatest pain. What I observe to-day confirms and augments my sorrow. Why show to Louis this repugnance ? Instead of rendering him more ungracious still by caprice, by inequality of char acter, why do you not rather make efforts to sur- mount your indifference ? But you will say, he is not amiable I All that is relative. If not in your eyes amiable, he may appear so to others, and all women do not view him through the me- dium of dislike. As for myself, who am here altogether disinterested, I imagine that I behold him as he is, more loving", doubtless, than lov- able, but this is a great and rare quality. He is generous, beneficent, feeling, and, above all, an excellent father. If you so willed, he would prove a good husband. His melancholy, his love of study and retirement, injure him in your es- timation. For these, I ask you, is he to blame? Is he obliged to conform his nature to circum- stances ? Who could have predicted to him hia fortune ? But, according to you, ho has not even the courage to bear that fortune. This, I believa A..D. 1801.] Character developed. 191 She advises Hortense to be more kind to Louis. is an error ; but he certainly wants the strength. With his ascetic incUnations, his invincible de- sire of retirement and study, he finds himself misplaced in the elevated rank to which he has attained. You desire that he should imitate his brother. Give him, first of aU, the same tem- perament. You have not failed to remark that almost our entire existence depends upcn our health, and that upon our digestion. Let poor Louis digest better, and you would find him more amiable. But, such as he is, there can be no rea- son for abandoning him, or making him feel the unbecoming sentiments with which he inspires you. Do you, whom I have seen so kind, con- tinue to be so at the moment when it is precise- ly more than ever necessary. Take pity on a man who has to lament that he possesses what would constitute another's happiness ; and, be- fore condemning him, think of others who, like him, have groaned beneath the burden of theii greatness, and bathed with their tears that dia- dem which they believed had never been des lined for their brow." This, surely, was admirable counsel, and, hatJ Hortense followed it, she would have saved her self many a long year of loneliness and anguish But the impetuous and /thoughtless t^ride could 192 Josephine. [A.D. 1801 Unhappy disposition of Louis. Errors of Hortenst* not repress the repugnance with which she re- garded the cold exterior and the exacting love of her husband. Louis demanded from her a sin- gleness and devotedness of affection which Was unreasonable. He wished to engross all her faculties of loving. He desired that every pas- sion of her soul should be centered in him, and was jealous of any happiness she found except- ing that which he could give. He was even troubled by the tender regard with which she cherished her mother and her brother, consider- ing all the love she gave to them as so much withheld from him. Hortense was passionately fond of music and of painting. Louis almost forbade her the enjoyment of those delightful accomplishments, thinking that she pursued them with a heartfelt devotion inconsistent with that supreme love with which she ought to re- gard her husband. Hortense, proud and high- spirited, would not submit to such tyranny. She resisted and retaliated. She became, con- sequently, wretched, and her husband wretch- ed, and discord withered all the joys of homo At last, the union of such discordant spirits be- came utterly insupportable. They separated. The story of their domestic quarrels vibrated upon the ear of Europe. Louis wandered hera A-.B 1801.] Character devei.oped. 193 Happiness to which she might have attained. and there, joyless and sad, till, weary of a mis- erable life, alone and friendless, he died. Jlor- tense retired, with a restless and suffering heart, to the mountains of Switzerland, where, in a secluded castle, she lingered out the re- maining years of her sorrowful pilgrimage. It was an unfortunate match. Having been made, the only possible remedy was in pursuing the course which Josephine so earnestly recom- mended. Had Josephine been married to Lou- is, she would have followed the course she coun- seled her daughter to pursue. She would have leaned fondly upon his arm in his morning and evening walks. She would have cultivated a lively interest in his reading, his studies, and all his quiet domestic pleasures. She would, as far as possible, have relinquished every pur- suit which could by any possibility have caused him pain. Thus she would have won his love and his admiration. Every day her power over him would have been increasing. Gradually her influence would have molded his character to a better model. He would have become proud of his wife. He would have leaned upon her arm. He would have been supported by her affection and her intellectual strength. He would have become more cheerful in character 194 Josephine. f A.D. 1801 The spirit 3f Jcsephine. Character of Hortenso. and resolate in purpose. Days of tranquillity and happiness would have embellished their dwelling. The spirit of Josephine ! It is ?ioble as well as lovely. It accomplishes the most ex- alted achievements, and diffuses the most enno- bling happiness. There are thousands of unions p,s uncongenial as that of Hortense and Louis. From the woes such unions would naturally engender there is but one refuge, and Josephine has most beautifully shown what that refuge is. Hortense, proud and high-spirited, resolved that she would not submit to the exacting demands of her husband. In her sad fate we read the Vi^arning not to imitate her example. Hortense is invariably described as an un- usually fascinating woman. She had great vivacity of mind, and displayed much brilliance of conversational powers. Her person was fine- ly formed, and she inherited much of that grace- ful demeanor which so signally characterized her mother. She was naturally amiable, and was richly endowed with all those accomplish- jTients which enable one to excel in the art of pleasing. Louis, more than any other of the brothers, most strongly resembled Napoleon. He was a very handsome man, and possessed far more than ordinary abilities. Under lesH A.I). 1801.] Character develoted. 19' Calumnies against Napoleon. They fail in their ettoct untoward circumstances he might have been eminently happy. Few persons, however, have journeyed along the path of life under a darker cloud than that which ever shed its gloom upon the footsteps of Louis and Hortense. Among the various attempts which had been made to produce alienation between Napoleon and Josephine, one of the most atrocious was the whispered insinuation that the strong affec- tion which the first consul manifested for Hor- tense was a guilty passion. Napoleon exhibit- ed in the most amiable manner his qualities as a father, in tlie frequent correspondence he car- ried on with the two children of Josephine, in the interest he took in their studies, and in the solicitude he manifested to promote their best welfare. He loved Hortense as if she had been his own child. Josephine was entirely impreg- nable against any jealousy to be introduced from that quarter, and a peaceful smile was her only reply to all such insinuations. Hortense had also heard, and had utterly disregarded, theso rumors. The marriage of Hortense to a brother of Napoleon had entirely silenced the calumny, and it was soon forgotten. Subsequently, when Hortense had become en- tirely alienated from her husband, and was re 196 Josephine. [A. D. 1801 Unjust remarks of llortense. Josephine's reply Bolved upon a separation, Josephine did every thing in her power to dissuade her from an act BO rash, so disgraceful, so ruinous to her happi- ness. She wrote to her in terras of the most earnest entreaty. The self-willed queen, an noyed by these remonstrances, and unable to re- ply to them, ventured to intimate to her mother that perhaps she was not entirely disinterested in her opposition. In most guarded terms she suggested that her mother had heard the ground- less accusation of Napoleon's undue fondness, and that it was possible that her strong opposi- tion to the separation of Hortense from her hus- band might originate in the fear that Hortense might become, in some degree, her rival in the affections of Napoleon. Josephine very prompt- ly and energetically replied, " You have misunderstood me entirely, my child. There is nothing equivocal in my words; as there can not exist an uncandid sentiment in my heart. How could you imagine that I could participate in opinions so ridiculous and so mali- cious ? No, Hortense, you do not think that I believe you to be my rival. We do, indeed, both leign in the same heart, though by very differ- ent, yet by equally sacred rights. And they whOj in th3 affection which my husbana mani A.D. ISOl.] Character developed. 197 The love of glory Napoleon's ruling passion. fe.sls for you, have' pretended to discover othei sentiments than those of a parent and a friend know not his soul. His mind is too elevated above that of the vulgar to be ever accessible tc unworthy passions. The passion of glory, if you will, engrosses him too entirely for our re- pi)se ; but glory, at least, inspires nothing which is vile. Such is my profession of faith respect- ing Napoleon. I make this confession to you in all sincerity, that I may allay your inquietudes. When I recommended you to love, or, at least, not to repulse Louis, I spoke to you in my char- acter of an experienced wife, an attentive moth- er, and a tender friend, and in this threcfod re« Istion do I now embrace you." lyS Josephine. [A.D. 1802. loaephmc and. Napoleon visit Lyons. Josephine makes new friends. Chapter X. The Coronation. EAELY in the year 1802 Josephine accom- panied Napoleon in various excursions to distant parts of the empire. She went with him to Lyons to meet the Italian deputies, who had assembled there to confer upon him the dignity of President of the Cisalpine Republic. The entertainments in Lyons upon this occa- sion were arranged with regal magnificence. Josephine, by her grace and affability, secured universal admiration, and every tongue was eloquent in h er praises. E ach succeeding month seemed now to bring some new honor to Jose- phine. Her position as wife of the first consul, her known influence over her husband, and the almost boundless popularity he had acquired over the minds of his countrymen, who were ever conducting him by rapid strides to new accessions of power, surrounded her with mul- titndes striving in every way to ingratiate them- selves into her favor. From Lyons they returned to their beloved A.D.1602.] The Coronation. 199 Return to Malraaison. Anecdote of the writing-master retreat at Malmaison, vhere they passed sev- eral weeks. But place and power had already deprived them of retirement. Napoleon was entirely engrossed with his vast projects of am- bition. The avenue to their rural mansion was unceasingly thronged with carriages, and the saloon of Josephine was ever filled with the most illustrious guests. One day Josephine happened to be in the cabinet with her husband alone. A man, whose coat was much the worse for w^ear, and whose whole appearance presented many indications of the struggle with poverty, was ushered into the room. He appeared greatly embarrassed; and at length, with much confusion, introduced himself as the writing-master at Brienne who had taught the first consul hand- writing. " And a fine penman you made of me I" exclaimed Na- poleon, in affected anger. " Ask my wife there what she thinks of my writing." The poor man stood trembling in trepidation, when Jose- phine looked up with one of her sweetest smiles, ^nd said, '^ I assure you, sir, his letters are per- ectly delightful." Napoleon laughed at the well-timed compliment, and settled upon the "writing-master a small annuity for life. It was a noble trait in the character of the first consuj 200 Josephine. [A.D,1802 Tour of the northern provinces. Enthusiasm of the people that in his days of pov^^er ho was ever mindful of those who were the friends of his early years. All the instructors of the school he attended at Brienne were thus remembered by him. Napoleon and Josephine now made the tour of the northern provinces of France. They were every where received with unbounded en- thusiasm. The first consul had, indeed, con- ferred the greatest blessings on his country. He had effectually curbed the Revolutionary fury. He had established the reign of law. Thousands of exiles he had restored to their homes rejoicing. The discomfited armies of France he had led to new and brilliant victo- ries. Under his administration every branch of business had revived. From every part of the empire Napoleon received the most enthu- siastic expressions of gratitude and attachment. He now began more seriously to contemplate ascending the throne of France. Conscious of his own power, and ambitious of the glory of elevating his country to the highest pinnacle of earthly greatness, and witnessing the enthusi- asm of admiration which his deeds had excited in the public mind, he no longer doubted that his countrymen would soon be ready to place the scepter of empire in his hands. He thought that the pear was now vipe. A.D. 1802.] The Coronation. 201 Josephine ever solicitous in behalf of the ccmfort of others. Josephine ever enjoyed most highly accom- panying her husband on these tours, and she, on such occasions, manifested, in the most at- tractive manner, her readiness to sacrifice her own personal comfort to promote the happiness of others. Napoleon was in the habit of moving with such rapidity, and of setting out so unex- pectedly upon these journeys, and he was so per- emptory in his injunctions as to the places where ho intended to halt, that often no suitable accom- modations could be provided for Josephine and her attendant ladies. No complaint, however, was ever heard from her lips. No matter how great the embarrassment she encountered, she ever exhibited the same imperturbable cheerful- ness and good humor. She always manifested much more solicitude in reference to the accom- modation of her attendants than for her own com- fort. She v>rould herself visit their apartments, and issue personal directions to promote their convenience. One night, just as she was about to retire to rest, she observed that her w^aiting- woman had but a single mattress, spread upon the floor, for her repose. She immediately, with her own hands, took from the bed destined for herself another mattress, and supplied the defi- ciency, that her waiting- woman might sleep j5>02 Josephine. [A.D. 1802 Benevolence c f Joeephiae's heart. The palace of St. Cloud more comfortably. Whenever any of her house- hold were sick, Josephine promptly visited tlieii* bedside, and with lier own hands ministered to their wants. She would remember them at her own table, and from the luxurious viands spread out before her, would select delicacies which might excite a failing appetite. It often hap- pened, in these sudden and hasty journeys, that, from want of accommodation, some of the party were compelled to remain in the carriages while Napoleon and Josephine dined. In such cases they were never forgotten. This was not policy and artifice on the part of Josephine, but the in- stinctive dictates of a heart overflowing with be- nevolence. On Napoleon's return from this tour he took possession of the palace of St. Cloud. This was another step toward the throne of the Bourbons. This magnificent abode of ancient grandeur had been repaired and most gorgeously furnished. The versatile French, weary of Pvcpublican sim- plicity, witnessed with joy the indications of a return of regal magnificence. A decree also granted to Josephine " four ladies, to assist her in doing the honors of the palace." No occupant of these splendid saloons ever embellished them more richly by ilie display of queenly graces than ^.D.1802.] The Coronation. 203 Napoleon's views of Christianity. Striking remarka did Josephine ; and Napoleon, now constituted first consul for life, reigned with pomp and powci which none of his predecessors had ever surpassed. The few remaining forms of the Republic rapidly disappeared. Josephine exerted much influencQ over her husband's mind in inducing him to re- establish the institutions of the Christian reli- gion. Napoleon at that time did not profess to have any faith in the divine origin of Christianity. Infidelity had swept resistlessly over France, and nearly every man of any note in the camp and in the court was an unbeliever. He was, con- sequently, very bitterly opposed in all his en- deavors to reinstate Christianity. One evening he was walking upon the terrace of his garden at Malmaison, most earnestly conversing with some influential members of the government upon this subject. " Religion," said he, " is something which can not be eradicated from the heart of man. He must believe in a superior being. Who made, all that ?" he continued, pointing to the stars brilliantly shining in the evening sky. " Last Sunday evening I was w^alking here alone, when the church bells of the village of Ruel rang at Funset. I vv'as strongly moved, so vividly did the imago of early days come back with that 204 Josephine. [A.D. 1802 Ijiflucncc of Josephine in the re-establishment of Christianity. sound. If it be thus with me, what must it be with others? Let your philosophers answer that, if they can. It is absolutely indispensable to have a religion for the people. In re-estab- lishing Christianity, I consult the wishes of a great majority of the French nation." Josephine probably had very little religious knowledge. She regarded Christianity as a sen- timent rather than a principle. She felt the po- etic beauty of its revelations and its ordinances. She knevf how holy were its charities, how pure its precepts, how ennobling its influences, even when encumbered with the grossest supersti- tions. She had seen, and dreadfully had she felt, what France was without religion — with marriage a mockery, conscience a phantom, and death proclaimed to all an eternal sleep. She therefore most warmly seconded her husband in all endeavors to restore again to desolated Franco the religion of Jesus Christ. The next morning after the issuing of the proclamation announcing the re-establishment of public worship, a grand religious ceremony took place in honor of the occasion in the church of Notre Dame. Napoleon, to produce a deep impression upon the public mind, invested the occasion with all possible pomp. As he Vfun A.D.1802.] The Coronation, SO-'i Religions ceremony at N6tre Dame. Proclamation of Napoleon. preparing to go to the Cathedral, one of his col- leagues, Cambaceres, entered the room. '' Well," said the first consul, rubbing his hands in fine spirits, " we go to church this morning ; what say they to that in Paris ?" " Many people," replied Cambaceres, '• pro- pose to attend the first representation in order to hiss the piece, should they not find it amus- ing." " If any one takes it into his head to hiss, I shall put him out of the door by the grenadiers of the consular guard." '' But what if the grenadiers themselves take to hissing like the rest ?" " As to that, I have no fear. My old mus- taches will go here to Notre Dame just as at Cairo they would have gone to the mosque. They will remark how I do, and, seeing their general grave and decent, they will be so too, passing the watchword to each other, Dece^icy .'" In the noble proclamation which the first consul issued upon this great event, he says, " An insane policy has sought, during the Rev- olution, to smother religious dissensions under the ruins of the altar, under the ashes of relig- ion itself. At its voice all those pious solemni« ties ceased in which the citizens called each 206 Josephine [AD. 1802 Cliristian charity recommended. Triumph of Christianity other by the endearing name of brothers, and acknowledged their common equality in th« sight of Heaven. The dying, left alone in his agonies, no longer heard that consoling voice which calls the Christian to a better world. God himself seemed exiled from the face of na- ture. Ministers of the religion of peace ! let a complete oblivion veil over your dissensions, your misfortunes, your faults. Let the religion which unites you bind you by indissoluble cords to the interests of your country. Citizens of the Protestant faith ! the law has equally ex- tended its solicitude to your interests. Let the morality, so pure, so holy, so brotherly, which 3^ou profess, unite you all in love to your coun- try and respect for its laws ; and, above all, never permit disputes on doctrinal points to weaken that universal charity which religion at once inculcates and commands." This, surely, is a great triumph of Christian- ity. A man like Napoleon, even though not at the time a believer in its divine origin, was so perfectly satisfied of its beneficial influence upon mankind, that, as a matter of state policy, he felt compelled to reinstate its observances. Josephine cherished emotions of the deepest •gratitude toward all those who bad proved A.D. 1800.1 The Coronation. 207 Madame Tallien disliked by Napoleon. Dissipation in Paris friendly to her in the days of her adversity Napoleon, with his strong prejudices, often took a dislike to those whom Josephine loved. Ma- dame Tallien, the companion of Josephine in her captivity and her benefactor after her re- lease, was, for some unknown reason, peculiarly obnoxious to Napoleon. She was extremely beautiful and very ambitious, and her exclusion from the splendors of the new court, now daily becoming more brilliant, mortified her exceed- ingly. Josephine also was greatly troubled. She could not disregard the will of her husband, and her heart recoiled from the thought of in- gratitude tov/ard one who had been her friend in adversity. At this time, in Paris, pleasure seemed to be the universal object of pursuit. All the restraints of religion had been swept away, and masked balls, gambling, and every species of dissipation attracted to the metropo- lis the wealthy and the dissolute frcm all parts of Europe. Napoleon never made his appear- ance in any of these reckless scenes of revelry. He ever was an inveterate enemy to gambling in all its forms, and had no relish for luxurious' indulgence. Josephine, however, accompanied by Eugene, occasionally looked in upon the dancers at the masked balls. On one of.theso 208 Josephine. [A..D. 1800 Incident at a maeked ball. Josephine and Madame Talllen occasions a noble lady witnessed an incident which she has recorded in the following words .' " Chance rendered me witness of a singular scene at one of these balls. It was near two o'clock in the morning, the crowd immense, and the heat overpowering. I had ascended fv)r a few moments to the apartments above, a ad, refreshed by the cool air, was about to de- scend, when the sound of voices in the adjoining H)om, in earnest conversation, caught my at- tcintion. Applying my ear to the partition, the name of Bonaparte, and the discovery that Jo- sephine and Madame Tallien were the speak- ers, excited a real curiosity. ''I assure you, my dear Theresina," said Josephine, '' that I have done all that friendship could dictate, but in vain. No later than this morning I made a new effort. Bonaparte would hear of nothing. I can not comprehend what can have prejudiced him so strongly against you. You are the only woman whose name he has effaced from the list of my particular friends ; and from fear left he should manifest his displeasure directly against us have I now come hither alone with my son. At this moment they believe me sound asleep in my bed at the Tuilleries ; but I determinei on coming to see, to warn, and to console you ^nd, above all, to irjp.tifv my^plf" A..D.1800.] The Coronation. 209 The stolen interview. Eugene interrupts it, " My dear Josephine," Madame Tallien re- plied, "I have never doubted either the good- ness of your heart or the sincerity of your af- fection. Heaven is my v/itness that the loss of your friendship would be to me much more painful than any dread of Bonaparte. In these difficult times, I have maintained a conduct that might, perhaps, render my visits an honor, but I will never importune you to receive me with- out his consent. Ho v/as not consul when Tal- lien followed him into Egypt, when I received you both into my house, when I shared with you — " Here she burst into tears, and her voice became inaudible. " Calm yourself, my dear Theresina," Jose- phine rejoined ; "be calm, and let the storm pass. I am paving the way for a reconcilia- tion, but we must not irritate him more. Yott know that he does not love Ouvrard, and it is said that he often sees you." "What, then," Madame Tallien replied, " because he governs France, does he expect to tyrannize over our hearts ? Must we sacrifice to him our private friendships ?" At that moment some one knocked at the door, and Eugene Beauharnais entered. " Ma- dame," said ha to his mother, "you have been O 210 Josephine. ^A.D.lSOf Ouvrard. Rumors. Apprehensions of JosejnJn* now more than an hour absent. The council of ministers is perhaps over. What will iha first consul say, should he not find you on his return?" The two ladies then, arm in arm, descended the stairs, conversing in earnest whis- pers, followed by Eugene. This Ouvrard, to whom allusion is made above, was a famous banker in Paris, of enor- mous wealth, and engaged in the most wild and extravagant speculations. It now began to be rumored that Napoleon v/ould soon be crowned as king. Very many of the nation desired it, and though there was as yet no public declaration, vague hints and float- ing rumors filled the air. Josephine was greatly disquieted. It seemed more and more important that Napoleon should have an heir. There was now no prospect that Josephine would ever be- come again a mother. She heard, with irrepress- ible anguish, that it had been urged upon her husband that the interests of France required thct he should obtain a divorce and marry again ; that alliance with one of the ancient royal fam- ilies of Europe, and the birth of a son, to whom he could transmit his' crown, would place his power upon an impregnable foundation. Jose- phine could not but perceive the apparent policy A.D.1800.] The Coronation. 211 Anecdote. Introduction of regal state. of the great wrong. And though she knew that Napoleon truly and tenderly loved her, she also feared that there was no sacrifice which he was not ready to make in obedience to the claims of his towering ambition. One day she softly entered the cabinet without being announced. Bonaparte and Bourrienno were conversing together. The day before, an article appeared in the Moniteur, evidently pre- paring the way for the throne. Josephine gently approached her husband, sat down upon his knee, affectionately passed her hand through his hair and over his face, and, with moistened eyes and a burst of tenderness, exclaimed, " I entreat you, mon ami, do not make yourself a king. It is Lucien who urges you to it. Do not even list- en to him." Bonaparte, smiling very pleasantly, replied, " Why, my dear Josephine, you are crazy. You must not listen to these tales of the old dowa- gers. But you interrupt us now. T am very busy." During the earlier period of Napoleon's con- sulship, like the humblest citizen, he occupied the same bed-chamber with his spouse. But now that more of regal ceremony and state waa being introduced to the consular establishment. 212 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Napoleon and Josephine occupy separate apartments. their domestic intercourse, to the great grief of Josephine, assumed more of cold formality. Sep- arate apartments were assigned to Josephine at a considerable distance from those occupied by her husband, and it was necessary to traverse a long corridor to pass from one to the other. The chambers of the principal ladies of the court opened upon this corridor from the right and the left. The splendor with which Josephine's rooms were furnished was no compensation to her for the absence of that affectionate familiar- ity for which her heart ever yearned. She also suspected, with anguish, that this separation was but the prelude of the divorce she so fear- fully apprehended. Whenever Napoleon passed the night in the apartment of Josephine, it was known to the whole household. Josephine, at such times, always appeared at a later hour in the morning than usual, for they generally passed half the night in conversation. "I think I see her still," writes one of the ladies of her household, "coming in to breakfast, looking quite cheerful, rubbing her little hands, as she was accustomed to do when peculiarly happy, and apologizing for having risen so lato, On such occasions she was, if possible, more gracious than usual, refused nobody, and we /V.D. 1800.] The Coronation. 213 losephmc advocates the cause of the Bourbons. A preaent were sure of obtaining every thing we asked, as [ have myself many times experienced." The Bourbons had been for some time in cor- respondence with Napoleon, hoping, through his agency, to regain the throne. He assured them that their restoration could not possibly be ac- complished, even by the sacrifice of the lives of a million of Frenchmen. Josephine, who had sutTered so much from anarchy, was a decided Royalist, and she exerted all her powers to in- duce Napoleon to make the attempt to reinstate the Bourbons. When her friends congratulated her upon^the probability that she would soon be Empress of France, with heartfelt sincerity she replied, " To be the wife of the first consul ful- fills my highest ambition. Let me remain so." The Bourbons expressed much gratitude at the time in view of Josephine's known intercessions in their behalf. About this time a serious accident happened to the first consul, which also exposed Jose- phine to much danger. The inhabitants of Antwerp had made Napoleon a present of six magnificent bay horses. With four of these spirited steeds harnessed to the carriage, Napo- leon was one day taking an airing, with Jose- phine- and Cambaceres, the second consul, in 214 Josephine. IA.D.3800 Napoleon takes to the whip. Accident resulting from his unskillfiihiesa the park. Napoleon, taking a fancy to drivo four in hand, mounted the coach-box, and Cee- sar, his favorite coachman, was stationed be- hind. The horses soon discovered that they had a new and inexperienced driver, and start- ed off at the top of their speed. Napoleon lost all control over them, and the frightened ani- mals, perfectly ungovernable, dashed along the road at a fearful rate. Caesar kept shouting to Napoleon. " Keep in the middle !" Cambace- res, pale with fright, thrust his head out of the window, and shouted " Whoa ! whoa !" Jose- phine, greatly alarmed, sank back in -her seat, and in silent resignation awaited the issue. As they approached the avenue to St. Cloud, the imperial driver had not sufficient skill to guide them safely through the gateway. The coach struck against one of the pillars, and was overturned with a terrible crash. Josephine and Cambaceres were considerably bruised. Vapoleon was thrown from his seat to the dis- tance of eight or ten paces, and was taken up insensible. He, however, soon recovered. Ou retiring at night, they amused themselves in talking over the misadventure. " Mon ami," said Josephine, laughing, " you must render unto CsE^sar the things that be Caesar's. Lei .4.D.1800.] The Coronation. 215 Kapoleon's views of death. Subsequent change of opinion. him keep his whip. Each to his vocation.' The oonvp-rsation was continued for some time in a tone of pleasantry. Gradually Napoleon became more serious. He seemed to be reflect- ing deeply, and said that he never before came so near to death. ''Indeed," said he, "I was for some moments virtaally dead. But what is death ? what is death ? It is merely a sleep without dreams." Such were probably, at this time, the views of Napoleon upon immoi tality. He subse- quently professed himself a sincere believer in the divine origin of Christianity, and wished to die within the pale of the Christian Church. That mind which can contemplate death with levity must be either exceedingly weak or hope- lessly deranged. While nearly all who surrounded the first consul were contemplating with the utmost sat- isfaction his approaching elevation to the throne, the subject awakened in the bosom of Jose- phine the most agitating emotions. She saw in the splendor of the throne peril to her hus- band, and the risk of entire downfall to herself " The real enemies of Bonaparte," said she to Rcederer, " are those who put into his head ideas of hereditary succession, dynasty, divorce. 216 Josephine. IA.D. 1802 Remonstrances of Josephine. Titled Etglishmen in Paria and marriage." Again she is represented as saying, '' I do not approve the projects of Na- poleon. I have often told him so. He hears me with attention, but I can plainly see that I make no impression. The flatterers who sur- round him soon obliterate all that I have said. The new honors which he will acquire will aug- ment the number of his enemies. The gener- als will exclaim that they have not fought so long merely to substitute the family of the Bonapartes for that of the Bourbons." The peace ratified by the treaty of Amiens in 1802 threw open the Continent to travelers from England. There were thousands in that country who were great admirers of Napoleon. The Tuilleries, St. Cloud, and Malmaison were consequently ever thronged with illustrious strangers from the island with which France had so long been engaged in war. The cele- brated statesman, Mr. Fox, with Lord and Lady Holland, Lord Erskine, and several others of the most distinguished of the English nobility, were visiting Paris, and one morning were at a breakfast party at Madame Recamier's. Break fast was nearly concluded, when the sounds of a horseman galloping into the court-yard were heard. Eugene Beauharnais was immediately A.D.1802.J The Ooronation. 217 JvDSpphine invites tlicm to Mnlmaison. Their recept'on after announced. After a few words of rem-ct expressed to the lady of the house for having arrived so late, he turned to Mr. Fox and said, " I hope, sir, soon to indemnify myself for the loss of your society which I have this morning sustained. I am commissioned by my mother to attend you to Malmaison. The carriages will be here in a few moments which are for the accommodation of you and your friends, when you can resolve on leaving so many charms as must detain you here. I shall, with much pleasure, act as your guide." The carriages of the first consul soon arrived, and the whole party proceeded to Malmaison. Josephine received her guests with that cour- tesy and refined cordiality in which she was unrivaled. Bonaparte, knowing the powerful influence of the illustrious English statesman, was very desirous that he should receive a fa- vorable impression from his visit. It required but little effort on the part of Josephine to ex- cel in the art of pleasing. She banished all parade, and received her guests as family friends. The day was spent at Malmaison, and Mr. Fox afterward stated that he retired from the visit enchanted with the elegance and grace of aL that he saw and heard. 218 Jdsephine. [A.D.1804. Dissipation in Paria. Napoleon declared emperor. Ten years had passed, during which France had been in a state of constant warfare. The short peace which succeeded the treaty of Amiens filled Paris with the best society of Europe. Extravagance and dissipation reigned in the metropolis. But in those scenes of dis- sipation neither Napoleon nor Josephine ever made their appearance. His mind was ever engrossed with the magnificent plans he was forming and the deeds he was achieving. Jo- sephine was equally engaged in watching over the interests of her husband, and in gaining and confirming friends to his cause. On the 18th of May, 1804, by a decree of the senate, Napoleon was declared Emperor of France. The decree was sent out to the various departments for the action of the peo- ple. The result was, that 3,572,329 voted in the affirmative, while but 2569 were in the negative. A more unanimous expression of a nation's will history never has recorded. The day after his elevation to the imperial throne, the emperor leld a grand lev^e at the Tuille- ries, and Josephine, with many fears darkening this hour of exultation, made her first appear- ance as the Empress of France. The decree announcing Napoleon Bonaparte- to be the em C A.D.1804.1 The Coronation. 219 Josopliine's fears. Grand lev6e. Josephine's elevated position peror of France also declared that the imperial dignity should be hereditary in his family. The empress struggled against her fears, but her lieart was heavy, and she found but little joy upon this high pinnacle of power. She also plainly foresaw that the throne of her husband, apparently so gorgeous and massive, was erect- ed upon a very frail foundation. At the grand levee held upon this occasion, the assembly was the most brilliant and numer- ous that had ever yet been witnessed in Paris. The renown of Napoleon now filled the world, and noted men from every land thronged his saloons. Josephine found herself elevated to the position of the most illustrious of the queens of Europe. The power of her husband was supe- rior to that of any of the surrounding monarchy, and she received the homage of all as occupying an elevation such as no queen had ever attained before. The second of December, 1804, was appointed for the ceremony of coronation. The pageant was to take place in the church of Notre Damo The pope came from Rome to place the crown upon this lofty, though plebeian brow. For ten centuries such an honor had not been conferred upon any monarch. The day was clear and brill- 220 Josephine. [A.D. 1804 Preparati> as for the coronation. Drees of Josephino i an t, bu t intensely cold . The venerable walls of Notre Dame had never before Vvdtnessed such luxury and such magnificence as was now dis' played. Carriages glittering with gold and pur- ple trappings ; horses proudly caparisoned ; offi- cers in the richest uniforms, and in court dresses sumptuously embroidered ; servants in most gor- geous liveries ; and a waving sea of ostrich plumes, bewildered the multitude with the un- wonted splendor. The empress appeared in a robe of white satin, embroidered with gold, and profusely ornament- ed with diamonds. A mantle of crimson velvet, lined with white satin and ermine, floated over her shoulders, and golden bees were clustered over the dress. The coronation jewels consisted of a crown, a diadem, and a girdle. The coronation crown consisted of eight golden branches, four in imitation of palm, and four of myrtle leaves. The dew-drops glittering upon this foliage wero brilliant diamonds. A golden-corded band sur- rounded the crown, embellished with eight very large emeralds. The bandeau inclosing the head glittered resplendent with amethysts. This was the coronation crown, which was used only upon state occasions. The diadem, which was for more ordinary service, was composed of^ fV.D.1804.] The Coronation. 221 Dross of Napoleon. The imperial carriage four rows of pearls interlaced with diamonds. In front were several very large brilliants, ono of which weighed one hundred and forty-nine grains. The ceinture or girdle was of pure gold, so pure as to be quite elastic, embellished with thirty-nine rose-colored diamonds. Napoleon wore a close dress of white velvet, embroidered in gold, with diamond buttons. His stockings were of white silk. The robe and mantle were of crimson velvet, richly embroid- ered in gold and embellished with diamonds. Napoleon seemed to regret the vast expense at- tending this display, while at the same time he was conscious of its importance to impress the minds of the Parisians. The emperor was pro- fuse in expenditure to promote the grandeur and glory of the nation, but very frugal in his per- sonal expenses. The imperial carriage, constructed expressly for the occasion, was the most exquisite piece of workmanship Parisian ingenuity could devise. [t was drawn by eight bay horses. The panel- ing was entirely of glass. As the emperor and empress entered the carriage, they both, by mis- take, sat down with their backs toward the horses. Josephine, immediately perceiving the error, lightly changed her seat, at the same time 222 Josephine. [A.D. 1804 A splendid pageant. The throne saying smilingly to her husband, as she point- ed to the rich cushion at her side, " Mon ami! unless you prefer riding vis-a-vis* this is your seat." Napoleon laughed heartily at the blun- der, and changed his seat. Double files of in- fantry lined the route of more than a mil(5 and a half, extending from the Tuilleries to Notre Dame. Ten thousand horsemen, in most gor- geous uniforms, attended the carriages. Half a million of spectators thronged the way, crowd- ing the windows and balconies, clustered upon the house-tops, and filling up every space from whence any view of the cortege could be gained. The air was filled with the martial strains of a thousand bands, with the thunders of innumer- able pieces of artillery, and with the enthusiastic acclamations of the vast multitude. A pageant more sublime this world perhaps has never wit- nessed. The throne, which v/as hung with crimson velvet, was overarched with a canopy of the same rich material. It was ascended by twen ty-two circular steps, which were covered witl* blue cloth, studded with golden bees. The most illustrious officers of the empire crowded the stairs. Napoleon and Josephine sat, side by side, upon the throne. The religious ceremony il.D.1804.] The Coronation. 225 Napoleon crowns himself and Josephine. A touching scene occupied nearly four hours. It was interspersed with the most soul-stirring music from martia„ bands and from more than three hundred vocal performers. When the pope was about to place the crown upon the brow of the emperor. Napo- leon took it from him, and placed it, with his ov/n hands, upon his head. He then took it off and crowned the empress, also with his own hands, fixing his eye proudly, yet most tenderly, upon her. The heavy crown was soon after laid upon a cushion, while a smaller diadem was placed upon the head of Josephine. She kneeled before her illustrious consort as he placed the crown of France upon her brow. After remain- ing for a moment in silence in the posture of prayer, with her hands folded over her bosom she then gi-acefully rose, her eyes swimming in tears, and turned to her husband with a look of gratitude and of love which the emperor feeling- ly recognized. It was a touching scene, and in that moment were clustered the memories of years. But the day was not without its moments of anguish for Josephine. In the brief speech which the emperor made upon the occasion, he ■said, ^^ Ml/ descendants will long' sit upon tins ! throne.'''' These words were as a dagger to the P 22(5 Josephine. [A.D.1804. pious emotions of Josephrae. Impatience of Napoleoa heart of the empress. She knew Napoleon's in* tense desire for an heir. She knew how strong the desire in France was that he should have a son to whom to transmit his throne. She knew how much had been said respecting the neces- sity of a divorce. The most infamous proposals had been urged upon her by pretended friends, even by one of the brothers of Napoleon, that she might, by unfaithfulness to him, obviate the necessity of Napoleon's seeking another bride'. This sentiment, uttered upon the day of corona- tion, filled her heart with fear and anguish. The shades of evening had fallen upon the swarming city, and all the streets of the metrop- olis and the broad fa9ade of the Tuilleries were glittering with illuminations when the emperor and empress returned to the palace. Josephine, overcome with the conflicting emotions which the day had excited, retired to her apartment, and, falling upon her knees, with tears implored the guidance of the King of kings. Napoleon hastened to his room, exclaiming impatiently to an attendant as he entered, " Off, off with these confounded trappings !" He thr^w the mantle into one corner of the room, and the gor- geous robe into another, and, thus violently dis- encumbering himself, declared that hours of A.D. 1804.] The Coronation. 227 'osephine's forebodings fulfilled. Desires to lorget her titla such mortal tediousness he had never encoun- tered before. Josephine, in her remonstrances with Napo* leon against assuming the crown, predicted, with ahuost prophetic accuracy, the conse- quences which would ensue. " Will not your power," she wrote to him, " opposed, as to a cer- tainty it must be, by the neighboring states, draw you into a war with them? This will probably end in their ruin. Will not their neighbors, beholding these effects, combine for your destruction? While abroad such is the state of things, at home how numerous the en- vious and discontented ! How many plots to disconcert, and how many conspiracies to pun- ish." Soon after the coronation, Josephine was one morning in her garden, when an intimate friend called to see her. She saluted the empress by the title of Your Majesty. '' Ah !" she ex- claimed, in tones deeply pathetic, " I entreat that you will suffer me, at least here, to forget that I am an empress." It is the unvarying testimony of her friends, that, while she was receiving witli surpassing gracefulness the con* gratulations of France and of Europe, her heart was heavy. She clearly foresaw the peril of Josephine. [A.U. 1804 Josephine's regrets. Corruption of the court of Franc& Uieir position, and trembled in view of an ap- proaching downfall. The many formal cere- monies which her station required, and upon which Napoleon laid great stress, were exceed- ingly irksome to one whose warm heart rejoiced i in the familiarity of unrestrained friendship \ She thus described her feelings: "The nearer | my husband approached the summit of earthly ] greatness, the more dim became my last gleams : of happiness. It is true that I enjoyed a mag- nificent existence. My court was composed of i gentlemen and ladies the most illustrious in j rank, all of whom were emulous of the honor ] of being presented to me. But my time was i no longer at my command. The emperor was j receiving from every part of France congratula- | tions upon his accession to the throne, while I * myself sighed in contemplating the immense ] power he had acquired. The more I saw him loaded with the gifts of Fortune, the more 1 feared his fall." The court of France had for ages been the scene of the most voluptuous and unblushing vice. The whole nation had been corrupted by its influence. Dissipation had been rendered attractive by the grace with which it had been robed. The dissolute manners which had pre A.D,1804.] The Coronation. 229 Napoleon scrupulous in forming his court. The Duchess d'Aig jillon. vailed at Versailles, the Tuilleries, and St. Cloud no pen can describe. Napoleon determ- ined that, at all hazards, his court should be reputable at least in outward morality. He was more scrupulous upon this point even than Josephine herself. Believing that the downfall of the Bourbons was caused, in no inconsidera- ble degree, by the dissolute lives of the nobles and the courtiers, he would give no one an ap- pointment among the royal retinue whose char- acter was not, in his judgment, above reproach. The Duchess d'Aiguillon had been a fellow- captive of Josephine, and, after their liberation from prison, had greatly befriended her. Dur- ing the license of those times, in which all the restraints of Christian morality had been swept away, her character had not remained perfectly spotless. She and her husband had availed themselves of the facile liberty of divorce which the laws had encouraged, and had formed other unions. Josephine felt grateful for the many favors she had received from the duchess, and wished to testify this gratitude by receiving hei at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Jo- sephine wrote to her in the following terms : " My dear Friend, — I am deeply afflicted. My former friends, supposing that I am able tc 230 Josephine. [A.D. 1804. Letter from Josephine to the Duchess d'AiguilU^n. obtain the fulfillment of all my wishes, must suppose that I have forgotten the past. Alas I it is not so. I remember it too well, and my thoughts dwell upon it more than I would have them. The more I think of what my friends did for me, the greater is my sorrow at being unable to do now what my heart dictates. The Empress of France is but the first slave in the empire, and can not pay the debts of Madame de Beauharnais. This constitutes the torture of my life, and will explain why you do not oc- cupy a place near me. The emperor, indignant at the total disregard of morality, and alarmed at the progress it might still make, is resolved that the example of a life of regularity and of religion shall be presented in the palace where he reigns. Desirous of strengthening more and more the Church re-established by himself, and unable to change the laws appointed by her ob- servances, his intention is, at least, to keep ai a distance from his court all who may have availed themselves of the opportunity for a di- vorce. Hence the cause of his refusing the fa* vor I asked of having you with me. The re. fusal has occasioned me unspeakable regret, but he is too absolute to leave even the hope of seeing him retract. I am thus constrained tc A.D.1804.] The Coronation. 231 Josephine not her own mistress. renounce the pleasure I had promised myself of being constantly with you, studying to make you forget the sovereign in the friend. Pity my lot in being too public a personage to follow my own inclination, and cherish for me a friend- ship, the remembrance of which gives me now as much pleasure as its reality afforded conso- lation in prison. Often do I regret that small, dark, and dismal chamber which we shared to- gether, for there, at least, I could pour out my whole heart, and was sincerely beloved in re- turn." 232 Josephine. [A.D.1805 Coronation f^tes. Ascent of a ballooR D Chapter XI. Josephine an Empress. URING the whole month succeeding the coronation, Paris was surrendered to fetes, illuminations, and all manner of public rejoic- ing. One morning the empress found in her apartment, as a present from the municipality of the capital, a toilet service, with table, ewer, and basin of massive gold, wrought with most exquisite workmanship. An enormous balloon, in the form of the imperial crown, brilliantly illuminated, was launched, the evening of the coronation, from Paris. The vast structure, weighing five hundred pounds, floated most majestically over the city, for a time the object of the gaze of a million of eyes, till, borne away by the wind toward the south, it disappeared. The next evening it fell near the city of Rome, nine hundred miles from Paris. " Sire," said a courtier, announcing the fact to Napoleon, " your imperial crown has appeared in the two great capitals of the world within the space of twenty-four hours." AD.1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 233 The Italians petition Napoleon to be their king. Crossing the Alps, As soon as Napoleon was crowned Emperor of France, the senators of the Italian Republic, over which he had been elected president, sent an earnest petition that he would be crowned their king at Milan. Napoleon had rescued them from the hated dominion of the Austrians, and they regarded him as their greatest bene- factor. The emperor was in the habit of set- ting out on his various tours without any warn- ing. One evening, when the festivities of the baptism of the second son of Hortense had been kept up until midnight. Napoleon said quietly,- upon retiring, '' Horses at six for Italy." Jose- phine accompanied her husband upon this tour. The road bridging the Alps, which Napoleon subsequently constructed, was then but con- templated. It was only by a rugged and dan- gerous foot-path that the ascent of these awful barriers of nature could be surmounted. Two beautiful sedans had been constructed in Turin for the emperor and empress. The one for Napoleon was lined with crimson silk, richly ornamented with gold. Josephine's was trim- med with blue satin, similarly ornamented with silver. The sedans were, however, but little used, except in places where walking was dan- g^erous, as the empress very much preferred 234 Josephine. [A. D. 1805 Happiness of Jos epliine. Vievis from the Alpa leaning upon the arm of her husband, and, in conversation with him^ gazing upon the wild sublimities with which they were surrounded. This must have been to Josephine, independ- ently of those inward anxieties which weighed so heavily upon her heart, as delightful a jour- ney as a mortal can enjoy. All Europe was bowing in homage before her illustrious hus- band. He was in the possession of power such as the proudest of the Caesars might have en- vied. Illuminations, and triumphal arches, and eaithusiastic acclamations met them every step of their way. Josephine was in the possession of every possible acquisition earth could give to make her happy, save only one — her husband was not a father. But Josephine forgot her so- licitudes in the exultant hours when her hus- band, from the pinnacles of the Alps, pointed out to her the glories of sunny Italy — the scenes of past perils, and conflict, and renown — the fields in which he had led the armies of Franco to the most brilliant victories. Napoleon was in fine spirits, and in these gilded hours he looked lovingly upon her, and they both were truly happy. It is difficult "for the imagination to conceive any thing more attractive for a warm-hearted and an enthusiastic woman than A.D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 235 Splendid fete on the field of Marengo. to pass over these most sublime of the barriers of nature, with Napoleon for a guide and a con- fiding friend. Pope Pius VIL, who had formed a very strong friendship for Josephine, accom- panied them as far as Turin. When parting, the empress made him a present of a beautiful vase of Sevres china, embellished with exquisite paintings of the coronation. From Turin Napoleon took Josephine to the field of Marengo. He had assembled upon that great battle plain, which his victory has immor- talized, thirty thousand troops, that Josephine might behold, in the mimicry of war, the dread- ful scenes which had deluged those fields in blood. It was the fifth of May, and a bright Italian sun shone down upon the magnificent pageant. A vast elevation was constructed in the middle of the plain, from which, seated upon a lofty throne, the emperor and empress overlooked the whole field. Napoleon decorated himself upon the oc- casion with the same war-worn garments — the battered hat, the tempest-torn cloak, the coat of Mded blue, and the long cavalry saber which he had worn amid the carnage and the terror of that awful day. Many of the veterans who had been engaged in the action were present. Napo- leon and Josephine came upon the ground in a 286 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. A sublime spectacle. Triumphal entry into Milan. magnificent chariot, drawn by eight horses. The moment he appeared upon the plain, one general shout of acclamation from thirty thousand ador- ing voices rent the sky. After the mimic battle was ended, the soldiers defiled before the emperor and empress, while he conferred, upon those who had signalized themselves in the day of Marengo, the decorations of the Legion of Honor. The gorgeous uniform of the men, the rich capari- sons and proud bearing of the horses, the clangor of innumerable trumpets and martial bands, the glitter of gold and steel, the deafening thunders of artillery and musketry, filling the air with one incessant and terrific war ; the dense volumes of sulphurous smoke rolling heavily over the plain, shutting out the rays of an unclouded sun, all combined to produce an effect upon the spec- tators never to be effaced. On the eighth of May, 1805, they made their triumphal entry into the city of Milan. While the whole city was absorbed in those fetes and rejoicings which preceded the coronation, the in- exhaustible mind of Napoleon was occupied in planning those splendid public buildings and those magnificent improvements which still com- memorate the almost superhuman energy of his reign. The iron crown of Charlemagne, whioli A.D. 1805.J Josephine an Empress. 237 The coronation. Napoleon again crowns himself and Josephine for a thousand years had pressed no brow, was brought forth from its mausoleum to add the at- traction of deep poetic sentiment to the corona- tion. The ceremony took place on the twenty- sixth of May, in the Cathedral of Milan. The coronation was conducted with magnificence not even surpassed by the ceremony in Notre Dame. The empress first made her appearance, most gorgeously dressed, and glittering with dia- monds. She was personally loved by the Milan- ese, and was greeted with the most enthusiastic acclamations. A moment after, the emperor himself entered, by another door. He was ar- rayed in imperial robes of velvet, purple, and gold, with the diadem upon his brow, and the iron crown and scepter of Charlemagne in his hands. Napoleon, as in the coronation at Parisj refused to receive the crown from the hands- of another, but placed it himself upon his head, re peating aloud the historical words, " God has given it to me ; woe to him who touches it." Josephine then knelt upon an altar at his feet, and was again crowned by her husband. Josephine remained with the emperor in Mi- lan for nearly a month. He was busy night and lay in commencing improvements of the most "najestic character. The Italians still look back 238 Josephine. [A.D. ISOo Entertainments at Milan. Anecdote to the reign of Napoleon as the brightest period in their history. The gay Milanese surren- dered themselves, during his stay, to one con- tinued scene of festivity. One day Josephine and Napoleon had broken away from courtiers and palaces, and all the pageantry of state, and had retreated for a few hours to the retirement and solitude of a beautiful little island in one of the lakes in that vicinity. They entered the cabin of a poor woman. She had no idea of the illustrious character of her guests, and, in an- swer to their kind inquiries, opened to them the story of her penury, her toils, and her anxiety to bring up her three children, as the father often could obtain no work. " Now how much money, my good woman," inquired Napoleon, '' would you like to have to make you perfectly happy ?" "•Ah ! sir," she replied, " a great deal of money I should want." " But how much should you desire if you could have your wish." '' Oh, sir, I should want as much as twenty louis (about eighty dollars) ; but what prospect is there of our ever having twenty louis ?" The emperor poured into her lap three thousand francs (about six hundred dollars) in glittering gold. For a few moments she was speechless in bewilder- ment ; at length, trembling with emotion, she A. D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 23JJ Receptirn at Genoa. A floating garden said, " Ah ! sir — ah ! madam, this is a great deal too much. And yet you do not look as if you could sport with the feelings of a poor woman." *^No !" Josephine replied, in the most gentle ac- cents. " The money is all yours. With it you can now rent a piece of ground, purchase a flock of goats, and I hope you will be able to bring up your children comfortably." From Milan the emperor and empress con- tinued their tour to Genoa. The restless mind of Napoleon was weary even of the swiftest speed of the horses, and though they drove from post to post with the utmost possible rapidity, so that it was necessary continually to throw water upon the glowing axle, he kept calling from his car- riage, " On ! on ! we do not go fast enough ^' Their reception at Genoa was unequaled by >ny thing they had before witnessed. In the beautiful bay a floating garden of orange-trees and rare plants and shrubbery was constructed in honor of Josephine. In the principal church of "Genoa the Superb," the emperor and empress received the allegiance of the most prominent in- habitants. The fetes on this occasion almost surpassed the creations of fancy. The senses were bewildered by the fairy illusions thrown around the gorgeous spectacle. The city, with .^40 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 A gorgeous spectacle. Josephine's obedience to Napoleon, all- its picturesque beauty of embattled forts and craggy shores — the serenity and brilliance of Italian skies in May — the blue expanse of the Mediterranean — the marble palaces and glitter- ing domes which embellished the streets — the lovely bay whitened with sails — all combined to invest the gorgeous spectacle with attractions such as are rarely witnessed. From Genoa they proceeded to Paris, every where accompa- nied by the thunders of artillery and the blaze of illuminations. Josephine was not unfrequently under the necessity of taking journeys unaccompanied by the emperor. On such occasions the tireless mind of Napoleon arranged every particular with the utmost precision. A manuscript was placed in her hand, describing the route she was to take, the places at which she was to stop, the addresses or replies she was to make to public functionaries, the expenses she was to incur, and even the presents she was to make. On such excursions, Josephine every morning most carefully studied her lesson for the day She took great pleasure in obeying his directions exactly, exposing herself to great inconvenien- ces rather than to allow herself to deviate ig th«=) sljglitest particular from the written direc- 4D.1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 241 Difficult road through the forest of Ardennes. tions. She was ever unwilling to listen to any suggestions for change. A very interesting il- lustration of her scrupulous adherence to man- uscript instructions occurred in her journey to Liege. Napoleon, in the directions given to Jose* phine, had marked out her route by a road through the forest of Ardennes. Napoleon had ordered that road to be constructed, and sup- posed that it was completed. It was, howev* er, only partially made, and it was considered quite unsafe to attempt to pass over it with car- riages. She inquired if it were possible to pass. Being told that it was possible, perhaps, but that the attempt would be attended with great difficulty and danger, she replied, "Very well, then ; we will at least try." Some of the la- dies accompanying her entreated her to take another route. " No," she replied ; " Napoleon has requested me to take this road, and his wishes are my lav/." Josephine persevered in the attempt, and accomplished the passage through, though with very great difficulty. In many places the workmen on the road had to support the carriages with ropes and poles to prevent an overturn. It rained during much of the journey. losephine and her ladies were Q 242 Josephine. [A,D. 1805. Josephine receives a lecture. Her mind well stored often compelled to alight, and to walk for some distance nearly ankle deep in mud and water. Josephine endured all with the utmost good nature. She was cheered by the assurance that she was following the wishes of her hus- band. Many of her attendants, however, were excessively annoyed by the hardships they en- countered. The carriage of the first femme- de-chambre was actually overturned, and the irritated serving- woman could not restrain her expressions of impatience and displeasure. At last one of the distinguished ladies of the court took it upon herself to lecture the empress so roundly for her blind subservience to the direc- tions of Napoleon, that Josephine burst into tears. Josephine, by conversation, observation, and reading, was continually storing her mind with valuable information. In the various journeys she took, she was always accompanied by per- sons of intelligence, and who were well ac- quainted with the country. While traveling, she directed her conversation almost exclusively upon the scenes through which they were pass- ing. Every thing of interest was carefully treasured up in her memory, and if she learned any incident connected with the past fortunes A..D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 243 Her kindness to her attendants. Visits the baths at Aix. of any of the families of the ladies who were with her, she never failed to send a special mes- senger with the information, and to point out the places where such incidents occurred. She seemed thus to be continually studying for op- portunities of manifesting kind and delicate at- tentions to the ladies of her household. She thus secured a universality and a fervor of af- fection such as has rarely been attained. On these pleasure excursions, the restraints of the court were laid aside, and there were all the joyous commingling and affectionate familiari- ty which prevail among intimate friends. Napoleon, aware of the vast influence which the pomp of regal state exerts upon the human mind, was very particular in his court in the observance of all the etiquette of royalty. Jo- sephine, however, was always disposed to es- cape from the exactions of the code ceremonial whenever she could do so with propriety. A curious instance of this occurred at Aix la Chapelle, where the empress was passing a few days for the benefit of the baths. One evening she was sitting, with her ladies around her, weary of the lassitude of a fashionable water- ing-place, when some one suggested that, to while away an hour, they should visit a cele- M4 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. Josophine and her ladies proceed on foot to visit the model of Paris. brated model of Paris, which was then on ex- hibition. The chevalier of honor was about to order the imperial carriages and the cortege, when Josephine, to his utter consternation, pro- posed that they should go on foot. She was sure, she said, that the citizens of Aix la Cha- pelle were so kindly disposed toward her, that there could be no possible danger. The chev- alier, as far as he dared to do, urged his remon- strances against such a breach of imperial deco- rum ; but the ladies of the court were all de- lighted with the plan of Josephine, and they set out on foot, a brilliant party of ladies and gentlemen, to visit the exhibition. As the citi- zens, of course, knew nothing about this unex- pected movement, there was no crowd in the streets to impede their way, and they proceed- ed without any difficulty, and very pleasantly^ to the place of their destination. But the in- telligence of the adventure of the court, so novel and so unprecedented, was immediately noised throughout the town. From every section of the city, throngs, allured by ouriosity and love for Josephine, began to pour into the streets through which they were to pass to see them return. The citizens occupying the dwellings and the shops which lined the streets, instant- A. D 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 245 Enthusiasm of the people. The party return on foot. \y, and as if by magic, illuminated their win- dows. A thousand hands were busy in the eager and love-incited toil. The party spent an hour examining the beautiful model of the metropolis, and then emerged again into the street. To their surprise, and not a little to their consternation, they found their path blaz- ing with illuminations. Their whole route was filled with a dense throng of men, women, and children, ail eager to catch a glimpse of their beloved empress, and of the brilliant suite which accompanied her. The ladies recoiled from attempting the pas- sage on foot through such a crowd, and pro- posed sending for the carriages and escort. Joiijephine, apprehensive that some accident might occur in attempting to drive the horses through such a dense mass of people, would not listen to the suggestion. '' Were any one to be injured," she said, " of these friends whom our imprudence has assembled, I never could forgive myself" Taking the arm of the chev- alier, she led the way through the crowd. The ladies all followed, each supported by the arm of some nobleman of the court. The populace respectfully opened ])efore them, and closed up behind. The plumes, and diamonds, and gay 246 Josephine. [A.D.1805 Josephine's candor. Fond of breakfasting in the open air attire of the court shone brilliantly in the blaze of light which was shed upon them from the il- luminated windows. The enthusiastic accla- mations of the populace greeted the empress until she arrived, in perfect safety, at her resi- dence. As soon as she entered her saloon, with her accustomed frankness she thanked the chevalier for the advice which he had given, and confessed that, in not following it, she had been guilty of imprudence, which might have been attended by very serious consequences When traveling unaccompanied by the em- peror, she was fond of breakfasting in the open air, upon some green lawn, beneath the shade of venerable trees, or upon some eminence, where her eye could feast upon the sublimities of Nature, which are so attractive to every en- nobled mind. The peasantry, from a respectful distance, would look upon the dazzling specta- cle perfectly bewildered and awe-stricken. The service of silver and of gold, the luxurious vi- ands, the gorgeous display of graceful female Vittire, and uniforms and liveries, all combined to invest the scene, in their eyes, with a splen- dor almost more than earthly. On one occasion, a mother's love and pride triumphed over even her scrupulous obedience A..D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 247 t be presentation. Josephine's maternal sensitivenesa, to the wishes of Napoleon. Napoleon and Jo- sephine, accompanied by Eugene and a very magnificent retinue, were at Mayence. There was to be a grand presentation of the German princes to the emperor and empress. Eugene, the son of the empress, according to the laws of court etiquette, should have been included with Napoleon and Josephine in the presenta- tion. By some oversight, his name was omit- ted. As Josephine glanced her eye over the programme, she noticed the omission, and point- ed it out to Napoleon. As the arrangements had all been made by him, he \vas not a little piqued in finding himself at fault as to a point of eti- quette, and insisted upon following the pro- gramme. Josephine, ever ready to make any personal sacrifice to meet the wishes of Napo- leon, could not be induced to sacrifice the sensi- tive feelings of her son. " I had no desire," she said, " for the honors of coronation ; but, since I have been crowned, my son must be treated as the son of an empress." Napoleon yielded, not, however, with very good grace. Two of the princesses of Baden, on this occa- sion, accompanied Josephine to the opera. The evening air was chilly, and the empress, observ- ing that they were very thinly clad, spread over 248 Josephine [A.D. 1805. An expensive compliment. A deliglitful excursioa the shoulders of each of them one of her rich white Cashmere shawls. These shawls were of the most costly texture, and had been purchased at an expense of several thousand dollars. The next morning the elder of the princesses sent a note, full of complimentary terms, to Josephine, expressing their infinite obligation for her kind- ness, and stating that they would keep the shawls in remembrance of one they so greatly admired. On these journeys Napoleon was full of pleas- antry, and very agreeable. Josephine often spoke of this excursion to Mayence in particular as the most delightful that she had ever made with the emperor. They were met at every step on their route with the most enthusiastic testimonials of a nation's love and gratitude. And Napoleon had at this time conferred bene- fits upon France which richly entitled him to ail this homage. In subsequent years, when intox- icated by the almost boundless empire he had obtained, and when, at a still later period, he was struggling, with the energies of despair, against Europe, in arms to crush him, he resort- ed to acts which* very considerably impaired his good name. Josephine, in her journal during this journey, speaks of the common, but errone* A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress 249 Personal habits of Napoleon. He sleeps on the fitxd of battle. ous impression, that Napoleon could work con- stantly and habitually with very few hours de- voted to sleep. She says that this was an erro- neous impression. If the empsror rose at a very early hour in the morning, he would frequent- ly retire at nine o'clock in the evening. And when, on extraordinary occasions, he passed many nights together in almost sleepless activ- ity, he had the faculty of catching short naps at intervals in his carriage, and even on horse- back. After many days and nights of prepara- tion for some great conflict, he has been known even to fall asleep upon the field of battle, in the midst of all the horrors of the sanguinary scene. At the battle of Bautzen, for instance. Napoleon was extremely fatigued by the exertions and sleeplessness of the two preceding days and nights. He fell asleep several times when seat- ed on an erninence, overlooking the field of bat- tle, and which was frequently reached by the cannon balls of the enemy. Napoleon, at St Helena, when alluding to this fact, said that Nature had her rights, which could not be vio- lated with impunity ; and that he felt better pre- pared to issue fresh orders, or to consider the reports which were brought, when awaking from these momentary slumbers. Though Na« 250 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Napoleon's wonderful mental activity. Retirement at Malmaison, poleon could not set at defiance the established laws of our mental and physical nature, words can hardly convey an adequate idea of the inde- fatigable activity of his mind, or of his extraor- dinary powers of enduring mental and bodily fa- tisfue. Few have ever understood better the art of concentrating the attention upon one thing at a time. Often, on his campaigns, after reading the dispatches, and dictating orders to one set of secretaries during the whole day, he would throw himself, for an hour, upon his sofa, in- stantly fall into the soundest sleep, and then, summoning to his presence a new relay of sec- retaries, would keep them incessantly occupied till morning. To keep himself awake on such occasions, he resorted to strong coffee. It was only under the pressure of great necessity that he thus overtasked his Herculean powers. Occasionally, when Napoleon was absent on •his campaigns, Josephine would retire to Mal- maison, and become deeply interested in rural occupations. She had a large and very fine flock of merino sheep, and she took great pleas- are in superintending their culture. A detach- ment of the imperial guard was, on such occa- sions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One evening the empress, sitting up till a later houi A-.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 251 Anecdote. Instructions to a lady respecting etiquetta than usual, heard the sound of footsteps passing to and fro beneath her window. She sent for the officer of the guard, and inquired what it meant. He informed her that it was the sentry, who was appointed to keep watch beneath her window all night. '' Sir," she replied, '' I have no need of a night-guard. These brave soldiers have enough to suffer from the hardships of war when they are under the necessity of going to the field of battle. In my service they must have repose. I wish them here to have no sleep- less nights." It is said that rather a ludicrous occurrence took place in one of the cities of the Rhine, in reference to a visit which the emperor and em- press were about to make to that place. One of the distinguished ladies of the city, who was anticipating the honor of a presentation, wrote to obtain from the master of the ceremonies instructions respecting the etiquette to be ob- served. The answer contained very minute directions, and was couched in terms which conveyed a deep impression of their importance. Among other things, it was stated that three courtesies were to be made ; one immediately upon entering the saloon, one in the middle of the room, and a third, en pi^'ouette^ when hav- 252 Josephine. [A.D.1805. The court at Cologne. Eji pirouette mg arrived within a few paces of the emperor and empress. The familiar signification of en pirouette is whirling the body around rapidly upon the toes of one foot, the other foot being rather indecorously raised. The ladies assem- bled to study these instructions ; and though some of the young, the beautiful, and the grace- ful were not unwilling thus to display their lightness of limb, there were others who read en pirouette with consternation. The vast im- portance which Napoleon attached to every form of etiquette was well known. There was no alternative ; the fat and the lean, the tall and the short, the graceful and the awkv/ard, all were to approach their majesties en pirou- ette^ or to lose the honor of a presentation. "We have a fortnight for practice," said one of the ladies ; "let us prepare ourselves." For fifteen days all the drawing-rooms of Cologne seemed to be filled with dancing dervises. Ven- erable dowagers were twirling like opera girls, and not unfrequently measuring their portly length upon the carpet. En pirouette was the theme of every tongue, and the scene, morning, noon, and evening, in every ambitious saloon. On the evening of the arrival of the emperoi and empress, the same lady who had written A.D. 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 253 An amusing misunderstanding. Josephine accused of extravagance. the letter for instructions called upon one of the ladies of the court for still more precise di rections. She then learned that, in court phrase, en pirouette simply indicated a slight inclina- tion of the body toward their majesties, accom- panying the courtesy. The intelligence was immediately disseminated through Cologne, to the great relief of some, and, probably, not a little to the disappointment of others. Jose- phine was exceedingly amused at the recital of this misunderstanding. Josephine was often accused of extravagance Her expenditures were undoubtedly very great. She attached no value to money but as a means of promoting happiness. She was, perhaps, too easily persuaded to purchase of those who were ever urging upon her the most costly articles, and appealing powerfully to her sympathies to induce her to buy. It was difficult for Jose- phine to turn a deaf ear to a tale of distress. Napoleon was ever ready to spend millions upon millions in great public improvements, but he was not willing to have any money wasted. Josephine gave away most liberally in charity, and the emperor, at times, complained a little ^f the large sums which escaped through her hands. In replying once to a friend, who told 254 Josephine. [A.D. 1805, Ji^sephine is charged by Napoleon with indiscretion. her that she was deemed extravagant, she said, " When I have money, you know how I em- ploy it. I give it principally to the unfortu nate, who solicit my assistance, and to the poor emigrants. But I will try to be more econom- ical in future. Tell the emperor so if you see him again. But is it not my duty to bestow as much charity as I can ?" On one occasion Napoleon was much dis- pleased by hearing that Josephine had suffered General Lorges, the commandant at- Aix la Chapelle, a young and handsome man, to be guilty of the indiscretion of sitting upon the same sofa with the empress. He reproached her with much severity for permitting such in- decorum. Josephine explained the circumstan- ces. Instead of its being General Lorges who had thus violated the rules of courtly propriety, it was one of the aged and veteran generals of Napoleon's army, who, inured to the hardships of the camp, was entirely unacquainted with the politeness of courts. He had been present- ed to Josephine, and, without any conscious- ness of the impropriety of which he v/as guilty, immediately seated himself upon the same sofa with the empress. Josephine was unwilling to wound the feelings of the honest-hearted old A.D.1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 255 The explanation. Marriage of Eugene. Happiness of Josephine soldier, and permitted him to retain his seat until he withdrew. Napoleon was perfectly satisfied with the explanation, and, upon re- ceiving it, manifested renewed indications oi the affection and esteem with which he regard- ed the empress. About this time Josephine was informed ol the contemplated alliance between Eugene and the Princess-royal of Bavaria. She was soon summoned to Munich to attend their nuptials, and there again was united to those she so dear- ly loved. The bride of Eugene was in every respect worthy of him, and Josephine rejoiced over the happiness of her son. The victorious emperor and empress then returned to Paris, ac- companied by a crowd of princes from the vari- ous courts of Germany. Josephine was now upon the very summit of earthly grandeur Europe lay prostrate at the feet of her husband. Hortense was Queen of Holland. Eugene was Viceroy of Italy, and son-in-law to the King of Bavaria. Napoleon, fixing his affections upon the eldest child of Hortense, appeared to have relinquished the plan of the divorce, and to have contemplated the recognition of this child— -the brother of Louis Napoleon, now President of tlie French Republic — as the heir of his crown. The 256 Josephine. [A.D.3805. Josephine universally beloved. Her habit of journalizing embarrassment which had at times accompanied their interviews had consequently passed away* Napoleon was proud of Josephine, and often said that there was no woman in the world to be com- pared with her. The empress was happy. All France was filled with stories of her active be- nevolence and her sympathy with the sorrowful. Wherever she made her appearance, she was greeted with the acclamations of the most en- thusiastic attachment. Of the many tours which Josephine took with Napoleon, she frequently kept a journal, noting down the events of interest which occurred. The fragments of these journals, which have ap- peared before the public, beautifully exhibit the literary taste and the benevolence of heart of the empress. The following is an extract : " About two leagues from Bayonne the em- peror was presented with a spectacle worthy of hira. On the declivity of a mountain, gently scooped out in different parts of its descent, is pitched one of those camps which the foresight of the country has provided for its defenders. It is composed of seven handsome barracks, differ- ent in form and aspect, each isolated, surrounded with an orchard in full bearing, a well-stocked poultry-yerd, and, at different distances, a great- A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 255^ Beautiful extract from one of her journals. or or less quantity of arable land, where a divers- ity of soil yields a variety of produce. One side of the mountain is wild, but picturcsquCj with rocks and plants. The other seems covered with rich tapestry, so varied and numerous are the plots of highly-cultivated ground. The summit is clothed with an ever-verdant forest. Down the center, in a deep channel, flows a limpid stream, refreshing and fertilizing the whole scene. On this spot, the veterans who occupy it gave a fete to the emperor which was at once military and rural. The wives, daughters, and little children of these brave men formed the most pleasing, as they were themselves the no- blest ornament of the festival. Amid piles of arms were seen beautiful shrubs covered with flowers, while the echoes of the mountain re- sounded to the bleating of flocks and the warlike strains of a soldiery intoxicated on thus receiv- ing their chief. The emperor raised this enthu- siasm to the highest pitch by sitting down at a table at once quite military and perfectly pas- toral. I dare not mention the attentions of which I v/as the object. They affected me deeply. I regarded them as proofs of that veneration which France has vowed to the emperor." The infamous Ferdinand of Spain, who wa R 25S Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Ferdinand of Spain. A pivjturesque scenn ihen claiming the throne, in a disgraceful quar- rel with his equally infamous father, sent an embassador to Bayonne to meet the emperor. Ferdinand, with the utmost servility, was court- ing the support of Napoleon. The embassador possessed, some leagues from Bayonne, an exten- sive farm, on which were bred numerous flocks of merinoes. '' Thither," writes Josephine, ** un- der a plausible pretext, we were conducted to- day. After a feast of really rustic magnificence, we made the tour of the possession on foot. At the bottom of a verdant dell, surrounded on all sides by rocks, covered with moss and flowers, all of a sudden a picturesque cot appeared, lightly suspended on a projecting point of rock. Around it were feeding seven or eight hundred sheep of the most beautiful breed. We could not restrain a cry of admiration. Upon the emper- or addressing some compliments to the embassa- dor, he declared that these flocks belonged to me. * The king, my master,' he added, ^ knows the empress's taste for rural occupations, and as this species of sheep is little known in France, and will constitute the principal ornament, and, con- sequently, wealth of a farm, he entreats her not to deprive herself of an offering at once so use« ful and so agreeable.' ' Don Pedro,' replied the A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 259 Routine of life. Accouut thereof by a valet de chambre emperor, with a tone of severity, ' the empress can not accept a present save from the hand of a king, and your master is not yet one. Wait, before making your offering, till your own na- tion and I have decided.' " The ordinary routine of life with her, as em- press, was as follows. Constant, the valet de chambre of Napoleon, gives the following ac- count of the commencement of the day. "I had a regular order to enter the emperor's apart- ment at seven o'clock. When the empress passed the night there, it was a very unusual occurrence not to find the august spouses awake. The emperor commonly asked for tea or an in- fusion of orange-flowers, and rose immediately after. In the course of a few minutes the em- press rose also, and, putting on a loose morning- gown, either read the journals while the emper- or dressed, or retired by a private access to her own apartments, but never without addressing some kind and condescending words to myself." Josephine invariably commenced her morn iiig toilet at nine o'clock. This occupied an hour, and then she passed into a saloon where she received those who had obtained the favor of a morning presentation. A great many pe- titions were presented her on such occasions. 260 Josephine. [A.D. 1S05 Bloming occupations. Literary enjoyments. and, with unvarying kindness, she manifested great firmness in rejecting those which appeared unworthy of her support. These audiences oc- cupied an hour, and then she met, at eleven o'clock, the most distinguished ladies ( f the court at the breakfast-table. Napoleon, entire- ly engrossed by those majestic plans he was ever conceiving and executing, usually break- fasted alone in his cabinet, very hastily, not al- lowing more than seven or eight minutes to be occupied by the meal. After breakfast, Jose- phine, with her ladies, took a short walk, if the weather was fair, or for half an hour played a game of billiards. The remainder of the morn- ing, until three o'clock, she passed in her apart- ment, with her chosen female friends, reading, conversing, and embroidering. Josephine her- self was an admirable reader, and the book they were perusing was passed alternately from hand to hand. No works were read but those of real value. By common consent, all novels were banished from the circle, as Napoleon inveter- ately abominated every work of that kind. If he happened to find a novel in the hands of any of the attendants of the palace, he unhesitating- ly tossed it into the fire, and roundly lectured the reader upon her waste of time. If Jose- ,\.D.1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 261 Confidential interviews. The drive. Dressing for dinnei phine had been a novel reader, she never could have acquired that mental energy which ena« bled her to fill with dignity and with honor ev ery position she was called to occupy. Occasionally Napoleon would leave his cabi- net and enter the apartment of the empress w^iere the ladies were reading. His presence was ever cordially greeted, and, with great so- ciability, he would for a few moments converso with his friends, and then return to his work. Not unfrequently the emperor wished to confer with Josephine upon some subject of moment. A gentle tap from his hand at the door of pri- vate communication announced to the empress the summons, which she ever most joyfully obeyed. Occasionally these interviews were protracted for several hours, for the emperor had learned to repose great confidence in many matters upon the sound judgment of Josephine. At three o'clock the carriages were at the door, and Josephine, with her ladies, rode out. It was very seldom that Napoleon could find time to accompany them. On returning from, the drive, she dressed for dinner. Napoleon at- tached much importance to this grand toilet, for he was fully aware of the influence of cos- tume upon the public mind, and was very fond 262 Josephine:. [A.D.. 18Go. Recreations of Napoleon. The dinner hour of seeing Josephine dressed with elegance and taste. It is reported that he not unfrequently recreated himself by entering her boudoir on such occasions, and suggesting the robe or thf» jewelry he would like to have her wear. Her waiting- women were not a little embarrassed by the manner in which his unskillful hands would throw about the precious contents of the caskets, and the confusion into which he would toss all the nameless articles of a lady's ward- robe. Dinner was appointed at six o'clock. It was, however, served when Napoleon was ready to receive it. Not unfrequently, when much en- grossed with business, lie would postpone the hour until nine, and even ten o'clock. The cook, during all this time, would be preparing fresh viands, that a hot dinner might be ready at a moment's warning. A chicken, for in- stance, was put upon the spit every fifteen min- utes. Napoleon and Josephine always dined to gether, sometimes alone, more frequently with a few invited guests. There was a grand mas- ter of ceremonies, who, on all such occasions, in- formed the grand marshal of the necessary ar- rangements, and of the seat each guest was t«r occupy. A.. D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 263 Dining in state. Eveuiiig parties Occasionally the emperor and empress dined in state. Rich drapery canopied the table, which was placed upon a platform, slightly elevated, with two arm-chairs of gorgeous workmanship, one for Napoleon, and the other, upon his left, for Josephine. Other tables were placed upon the floor of the same room for illustrious guests The grand marshal announced to the emperor when the preparations for them to enter the room was completed. A gorgeous procession of pages, marshals, equeries, and chamberlains ao companied the emperor and empress into the hall. Pages and stewards performed the sub- ordinate parts of the service at the table, in bringing and removing dishes, while noblemen of the highest rank felt honored in minister- ing to the immediate wants of their majesties. Those who sat at the surrounding: tables were served by servants in livery. Josephine passed the evening in her apart- ment almost invariably with a party either of invited guests, or of distinguished ministers and officers of the empire, who, having called on bus- iness, were awaiting the pleasure of Napoleon. There were frequent receptions and levees, which filled the saloons of the palace with a brilliant throng. At midnight all company retired, and 264 Josephine. [A.D.1805 Josephine's love of solitude. ' Hunting partie* the palace was still. Jf iephine loved the silence of these midnight hours, when the turmoil of the day had passed, and no sounds fell upon her ear but the footfalls of the sentinel in the court- yard below. She often sat for an hour alone, surrendering herself co the luxury of solitude and of undisturbed thought. Such "was the general routine of the life of Josephine while impress. She passed from one to anot.ier of the various royal residences, equal- ly at home in all. At the 1 lailleries, St. Cloud, Versailles, Rambouillet, and Fontainebleau, life was essenidlly the same. Occasionally, at the rural palaces, hunting parties were formed for the entertainmen"^ :>i distinguished guests from abroad. Napoleon wimself uok but little per- sonal interest in sports of this kind. On such occasions, the empress, with her ladies, usually rode in an open caleche, i^nd a pic-nic was prc-^ vided, to be spread jn the green turf, beneath the boughs of the forest. Once a terrified, pant- ing stag, exhausted with the long chase, when the hounds in full bay were jus'o ready to spring upon him, by a strange instinct sought a retreat beneath the carriage in which the gentle heart of Josephine was throbbing. The appeal was not in vain. Josephine plead for the life of the A.D.1805.] Josephine an Empress. 26 IZ The protected stag. Letter from Josephine to Caroline. rneek-eyed, trembling suppliant. To mark il as her favorite, and as living under the shield of her protection, she had a silver collar put around its neck. The stag now roamed its na- tive glades unharmed. No dog was permitted to molest it, and no sportsman would injure a protege of Josephine. Her love was its talis- man. The following letter, which at this time she wrote to Caroline, the sister of Napoleon, who had married Murat, will show the principles, in the exercise of which Josephine won to herself the love of all hearts. *' Our glory, the glory of woman, lies in sub- mission ; and if it be permitted us to reign, our empire rests on gentleness and goodness. Your husband, already so great in the opinion of the world through his valor and exploits, feels as if he beheld all his laurels brought to the dust on appearing in your presence. You take a pride in humbling him before your pretensions ; and the title of being the sister of a hero is, with you, reason for believing yourself a heroine. Be- lieve me, my sister, that character, with the qualities which it supposes, becomes us not. Let us rejoice moderately in the glory of. our husbands, and find our glory in softening their 266 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. Josephine's desire to accompany Napoleon. manners, and leading the world to pardon their deeds. Let us merit this praise, that the nation, while it applauds the bravery of our husbands, may also commend the gentleness bestowed by Providence on their wives to temper their brave- ry." The palace ever seemed desolate when Napo- leon was absent, and Josephine was always so- licitous to accompany him upon his tours. Na- poleon loved to gratify this wish, for he prized most highly the companionship of his only con- fidential friend. Upon one occasion, when he had promised to take the empress with him, cir- cumstances arose demanding special speed, and he resolved to set out secretly without her. Ho ordered his carriage at one o'clock in the morn- ning — an hour in which he supposed she would be most soundly asleep. To his amazement, just as he had stepped into his carriage, Jose- phine, in all the dishabille of her night-dress, with some slight drapery thrown oyer her person, and without even stockings upon h^er feet, threw herself into his arms. Some noise had at the moment awoke her, she caught an intimation of what was going on, and, without a moment's thought, sprang from her bed, threw over her a doak. rushed down stairs, and burst into tha W A-.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 267 anecdote. Visit to Spain. Napoleon's star carriage. Napoleon fondly embraced her, rolled her np warmly in his own capacious traveling pelisse, gave orders for suitable attendants to follow with the wardrobe of the empress, and the horses, with lightning speed, darted from the court-yard. " I could sooner," Napoleon would jocosely say, " transport the whole artillery of a division of my grand army, than the bandboxes of Josephine's waiting- women." The visit which Josephine made with Napo- leon to Spain gave her such an insight into thtj Spanish character, that she looked with much alarm upon his endeavor to place one of his broth- ers upon the Spanish throne. "Napoleon," said she one day to her ladies, " is persuaded that he is to subjugate all the nations of the earth. He cherishes such a confidence in his star^ that should he be abandoned to-morrow by family and allies, a wanderer, and proscribed, he would support life, convinced that he should triumph over all obstacles, and accomplish his destiny by realizing his mighty designs. Happily, we shall never have an opportunity of ascertaining whether I am right. But of this you may rest assured. Napoleon is more courageous morally than physically. I know him better than any one else does. He believes himself predestinat* 268 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. Energy of Napoleon. The Spanish campaign, eel, and would support reverses with as much calmness as he manifests when confronting dan- ger on the field of battle." Little did Josephine imagine, when uttering these sentiments, that her proud husband, before whose name the world seemed to tremble, was to die in poverty and imprisonment on the most barren island of the ocean. The astounding energy of Napoleon was con- spicuously displayed about this time in his Span- ish campaign. He had placed Joseph upon tha throne of Spain, and had filled the Peninsula with his armies. The Spaniards had every where risen against him, and, guided by En- glish councils, and inspirited by the tremendous energy of English arms, they had driven Joseph from his capital, had massacred, by the rage of the mob, thousands of French residents who were dwelling in the Spanish cities, and were rapidly driving the French army over the Pyr- enees. Napoleon had but just returned from the treaty of Tilsit when he was informed of this discouraging state of affairs. He immediately, without a moment allowed for repose, set out for Spain. Josephine earnest- fy entreated permission to accompany the em- peror. She assured him that she was fully A..D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 269 I Josephine left at St. Cloud. Enthusiastic greeting of Napoleon. aware of the difficulties, fatigue, and peril she must encounter, but that most cheerfully could she bear them all for the sake of being with him. She said that she should neither feel hun- ger nor cold, nor the need of repose, il she could but be by the side of her husband, and that all the privations of the camp would be happinessj when shared with one who was all the world to her. Napoleon was deeply moved by this exhibi- tion of her love, but, aware of the incessant ac ' tivity wdth which it would be necessary for him to drive by night and by day, he firmly but kind- ly denied her request. Josephine wept bitterly as they parted. One morning, early in November, 1808, the glittering cavalcade of the emperor, at the full gallop, drove into the encampment of the retreat- '' ing French at Vittoria. The arrival of an angel, commissioned from heaven to their aid, could not have inspired the soldiers with more enthusiasm. The heavens rang with the shouts of the mighty host, as they greeted their monarch with cries of " Vive I'Empereur !'' Not one moment was lost. Napoleon placed himself at the head of his con- centrated army, and turning them, now inspir- ited with the utmost confidence, against the foes before whom they had been retreating, with tho 270 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Wonderful success of Napoleon. Alliance against him resistlessness of an avalanche overwhelmed the Spanish forces. Wherever he appeared, resist- ance melted away before him. In the pride of achievements almost miraculous, he marchec into Madrid, and there, in the capital of Spain, re-established his fallen throne. But he tarried not there an hour for indulgence or repose. The solid columns of the English army, under Sir John Moore, were still in Spain. Napoleon urged his collected forces, with all the energy which hatred could inspire, upon his English foes, and the Britons, mangled and bleeding, were driven into their ships. The conqueror, feeling that he was indeed the man of destiny, looked for a moment complacently upon Spain, again in subjection at his feet, and then, with the speed of the whirlwind, returned to Jose- phine at St. Cloud, having been absent but lit- tle more than two months. In the mean time, while Napoleon was far away with his army, upon the other side of the Pyrenees, Russia, Sweden, and Austria thought it a favorable moment to attack him in his rear. They brought no accusations against the em- peror, they issued no proclamation of war, but secretly and treacherously conspired to march, with all the strength of their collected armies, A.I). 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 271 His indignation roused. Austria violates the treaty. upon the unsuspecting emperor. It was an al- liance of the kings of Europe against Napoleon, because he sat upon the throne, not by heredi- tary descent, the only recognized divine right, but by the popular vote. The indignation of the emperor, and of every patriotic Frenchman, had been roused by the totally unjustifiable, but bold and honest avowal of England, that peace could only be obtained by the wresting of the crown from the brow of Napoleon, and replac- ing it upon the head of the rejected Bourbon. The emperor had been at St. Cloud but a short time, when, early one spring morning, a cour- ier came dashing into the court-yard of the pal- ace at his utmost speed, bringing the intelligence to Napoleon that Austria had treacherously vi- olated the treaty of peace, and, in alliance with Russia, Sweden, and England, was marching her armies to invade the territory of France. The emperor, his eye flashing with indignation, hastily proceeded to the apartment of the em- press with the papers communicating the intel- ligence in his hand. Tosephine was asleep, hav- ing but just retired. He approached her bed, and, awaking her from sou^d slumber, r*?quest' ed her to be ready in two hours to accompany him to Germany. " You have played the pait 272 ' Josephine. [A.D.1805 Promptness of Josejjhine. Kindness of Napoleon. Their route of an empress," said he, plaj^fully, *' long enough. You must now become again tlie wife of a gen- oral, I leave immediately. Will you accom- pany me to Strasburg ?" This was short no- tice, but, with the utmost alacrity, she obeyed the joyful summons. She was so accustomed to the sudden move- ments of the emperor that she was not often taken by surprise. Promptness was one of the most conspicuous of her manifold virtues. " I have never," she has been heard to say, " kept any one waiting for me half a minute, when to be punctual depended upon myself. Punctual- ity is true politeness, especially in the great." The emperor was in glowing spirits. He had no doubt that he should be entirely victorious, and Josephine was made truly happy by that ,-^«uavity and those kind attentions which he in this journey so signally displayed. Their route conducted them through some of the most beau- tiful and fertile valleys of France. Every whero around them they saw the indications of pros perity and happiness. Napoleon was in the height of glory. The most enthusiastic accla- mations of love and homage greeted the emper- or and empress wherever the panting steeds which drew them rested for a moment. As» A.D, 1805.] Josephine AN Empress. 273 Effects of the conscription. Napoleon entourages marriage*. they stopped for a new relay of horses in one of the little villages of Lorraine, Josephine beheld a peasant woman kneeling upon the steps of the village, church, with her countenance bathed in tears. The aspect of grief ever touched the kind heart of the empress. She sent for the poor woman, and inquired into the cause of her grief *' My poor grandson, Joseph," said she, '' is included in the conscription, and, notwithstand- ing all my prayers, he must become a soldier. And more than this, his sister Julie was to have been married to Michael, a neighbor's son, and now he refuses to marry her because Joseph is in the conscription. And should my son purchase a substitute for poor Joseph, it v/ould take all his money, and he would have no dowry to give Julie. And her dowry was to have been a hun- dred and twenty dollars." " Take that," said the emperor, presenting the woman with a purse. " You will find enough who will be ready to supply Joseph's place for that amount. I want soldiers, and, for that purpose, must encourage marriages." Josephine was so much interested in the adven- ture, that, as soon as she arrived at Strasburgj she sent a valuable bridal present to Julie. The good woman's prayers were answered. Frore- S 274 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 The battle at Ulm. Napoleon's advice to the Emperor ol Austria Strasburg Josephine returned to Paris, while Napoleon pressed on to encounter the combined armies of Austria and Russia in the renowned campaign of Wagram. It was in 1805, some years before the events we have just described, that Napoleon, with, his enthusiastic troops, embarked in the celebrated campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz. At Ulm he surrounded thirty thousand of his foes, and al- most without a skirmish compelled them to lay down their arms. "Your master," said he to the Austrian generals, as, almost dying with mortification, they surrendered their swords, " your master wages against me an unjust war. I say it candidly, I know not for what I am fighting. I know not what he desires of me. He has wished to remind me that I was once a soldier. I trust he will find that I have not for- gotten my original avocation. I will, however, give one piece of advice to my brother, the Em- peror of Austria. Let him hasten to make peace. This is the moment to remember that there are limits to all empires, however powerful. The idea that the house of Lorraine may come to an end should inspire him with distrust of fortune. I want nothing on the Continent. J desire ships, colonies, and commetxe. Their A.D.1805.] Josephine an Empress. 275 Hie march down the Danube. Anxiety cf Josepliiiia acquisition would be as advantageous to you as to me." From Ulm, Napoleon, with two hundred thou- sand men, flushed with victory, rushed like a (empest down the valley of the Danube, driving ihe terrified Austrians before him like chaff swept by the whirlwind. Ten thousand bomb- shells were rained down upon the roofs of Vi- enna, till the dwellings and the streets were deluged with the blood of innocence, and then the gates were thrown open for the entrance of the conqueror. Alexander, the Emperor of al] the Russias, v/as hastening down from the North, with his barbarian hordes, to aid the beleaguered city. Napoleon tarried not at Vienna. Fear- lessly pushing on through the sleet and the hail of a Northern winter, he disappeared in the dis- tance from the eyes of France. Austria, Swe- den, Russia, were assembling their innumerable lesrions to crush him. He was far from home, in a hostile country. Rumors that his rashness had led to his ruin began to circulate through- out Europe. Josephine was almost distracted with anxiety respecting her husband. She knew that a ter. rible battle was approaching, in which he was to encounter fearful odds. The most gloom} 276 Josephine. [A.D.1805. Arrival of a courier. His utter exhaustion forebodings pervaded Paris and all France. Several days had passed, during which no intel- ligence whatever had been received from the distant army. Ominous whispers of defeat and ruin filled the air. The cold blasts of a Decem- ber night were whistling around the towers of St. Cloud, as Josephine and a few of her friends V/^ere assembled in the saloon, anxiously await- ing tidings from Napoleon. It was no tim.e for hilarity, and no one attempted even to promote festive enjoyment. The hour of nine o'clock nad arrived, and yet no courier appeared. All hopes of any tidings on that day were relin- quished. Suddenly the clatter of iron hoofs was heard as a single horseman galloped into the <3ourt-yard. Josephine almost fainted with emo- tion as she heard the feeble shout, " Victory — Austerlitz !" She rushed to the window and threw it open. The horse of the courier had fallen dead upon the pavement, and the exhaust- ed rider, unable to stand, was half reclining by his side. In the intensity of her impatience, Josephine rushed down the stairs and into the court-yard, followed by all her ladies. The faithful messenger was brought to her in the arms of four men. He presented to the empress a blurred and blotted line, which the emoero? il.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 277 i5attle of Austerlitz. Moustache the Mameluke, had written amid the thunder and the smoke, the uproar and the carnage of the dreadful day of Austerlitz. As soon as Napoleon saw the field covered with the slain, and the routed ar- mies of his foes flying in dismay before their triumphant pursuers, in the midst of all the hor- rors of that most horrible scene, he turned the energies of his impetuous mind from the hot pursuit to pen a line to his faithful Josephine, announcing the victory. The empress, with tears almost blinding her eyes, read the billet where she stood, by the light of a torch which an attendant had brought her. She immediately drew from her finger a valuable diamond ring, and presented it to the bearer of the joyful mes- sage. The messenger was Moustache the Mameluke, who had accompanied Napoleon from Egypt, and who was so celebrated for the devotion of his attachment to the emperor. He had ridden on horseback one hundred and fifty miles within twelve hours. Napoleon was exceedingly sensitive to any apparent want of affection or attention on the part of Josephine. A remarkable occurrence, illustrative of this sensitiveness, took place on his return from his last Austrian campaign. When he arrived at Munich, where he was de- 278 Josephine. [A.D.1805. Sensitiveness of Napoleon. His unreasonable anger layed for a short time, he dispatched a courier to Josephine, informing her that he would be at Fontainebleau on the evening of the twenty-sev- enth, and expressing a wish that the court should be assembled there to meet him. He, however, in his eagerness, pressed on with such unantici- pated speed, that he arrived early in the morn- ing of the twenty-sixth, thirty-six hours earlier than the time he had appointed. He had actu- ally overtaken his courier, and entered with him the court-yard at Fontainebleau. Very unreas- onably annoyed at finding no one there to receive him, he said to the exhausted courier, as he was dismounting from his horse, ''You can rest to- morrow ; gallop to St. Cloiid, and announce my arrival to the empress." It was a distance of forty miles. Napoleon was very impatient all the day, and, in the evening, hearing a carriage enter the court-yard, he eagerly ran down, as was his invariable custom, to greet Josephine. To his great disappointment, the carriage con- tained only some of her ladies. '' And where is the empress ?" he exclaimed, in surprise. " We have preceded her by perhaps a quarter of an hour," they replied. The emperor was now in very ill humor. " A very happy arrangement," said he, sarcastically ; and, turning upon his /l.D.1805.] Josephine an Empress. 279 fiiiTival of Josephine. Napoleon's confession. The reconciliation, heel, he ascended to the little library, where he had been busily employed. Soon Josephine arrived. Napoleon, hearing the carriage enter the court, coldly asked who had come. Being informed that it was the em- press, he moved not from his seat, but went on very busily wnth his writing. The attendants were greatly surprised, for he never before had been known to omit meeting the empress at her carriage. Josephine, entirely unconscious of any fault, and delighted wdth the thought of asain meetinsr her husband, and of surprising him in his cabinet, hastened up stairs and en- tered the room. Napoleon looked up coldly from his papers, and addressed her with the chilling salutation, " And so, madame, you have come at last ! It is well. I was just about to set out for St. Cloud." Josephine burst into tears, and stood silently sobbing before him. Napoleon was conquered. His own conscience reproved him for his exceeding injustice. He rose from his seat, exclaiming, "Josephine, I am wrong ; for- give me ;" and, throwing his arms around her neck, embraced her most tenderly. The recon- ciliation was immediate and perfect, for the gen- tle spirit of Josephine could retain no resent- ment. 280 JosEfHiNE. [A.D.1805 Napoleon's taste for dress. The young sailojr -■■. — ■■ — — — — — — — — — ■ - < Napoleon had a very decided taste in refer- ence to Josephine's style of dress, and her only ambition was to decorate her person in a man- ner which would be agreeable to him. On this occasion she retired very soon to dress for din- ner. In about half an hour she reappeared, dressed with great elegance, in a robe of white satin, bordered with eider down, and with a wreath of blue flowers, entwined with silver ears of corn, adorning her hair. Napoleon rose to meet her, and gazed upon her with an expres- sion of great fondness. Josephine said, Vv^th a smile, " You do not think that I have occupied too much time at my toilet ?" Napoleon point- ed playfully to the clock upon the mantel, which indicated the hour of half past seven, and, taking the hand of his wife, entered the dining-room. Though Napoleon often displayed the weak- nesses of our fallen nature, he at times exhibit- ed the noblest traits of humanity. On one oc- casion, at Boulogne, he was informed of a young English sailor, a prisoner of war, who had es oaped from his imprisonment in the interior of France, and had succeeded in reaching the coast near that town. He had secretly constructed, in an unfrequented spot, a little skiff, of the branches and bark of trees, in which fabric, al- most as fraofile as the ark of bulrushes, he was A..D. .1805.] Josephine an Empress. 281 His fearlessness. Napoleon's magnanimity. intending to float out upon the storm-swept channel, hoping to be picked up by some En- glish cruiser and conveyed home. Napoleon was struck with admiration in view of the fear- lessness of the project, and, sending for the young man, questioned him very minutely respecting the motives which could induce him to under- take so perilous an adventure. The emperor expressed some doubt whether he would really have ventured to encounter the dangers of the ocean in so frail a skiff. The young man en- treated Napoleon to ascertain whether he was- in earnest by granting him permission to carry his design into execution. " You must doubt- less, then," said the emperor, " have some mis« tress to revisit, since you are so desirous to re- turn to your country ?" " No !" replied the sailor, " I wish to see my mother. She is aged and infirm." The heart of the emperor was touched. "You shall see her," he energetical- ly and promptly replied. He immediately gave orders that the young man should be thorough- ly furnished w^ith all comforts, and sent in a cruiser, with a flag of truce, to the first British vessel which could be found. He also gave the young man a purse for his mother, saying, " She must be no common parent who can have trained up so affectionate and dutiful a son." 282 Josephine. lA.D. 1807. Napoleon's prospective heir. Death of the child Chapter XIJ, The Divorce and last Days. A LLUSION has already been mad> to the -^^^ strong attachment with which Napoleon cherished his little grandchild, the son of Hor- tense and of his brother Louis. The boy was extremley beautiful, and developed all those noble and spirited traits of character which pe- culiarly delighted the emperor. Napoleon had apparently determined to make the young prince his heir. This was so generally the under- standing, both in France and in Holland, that Josephine was quite at ease, and serene days dawned again upon her heart. Early in the spring of 1807, this child, upon whom such destinies were depending, then five years of age, was seized suddenly and violently with the croup, and in a few hours died. The blow fell upon the heart of Josephine with most appalling power. Deep as was her grief at the loss of the child, she was overwhelmed with uncontrollable anguish in view of those fearful consequences which she shuddered to contem- A.D.i«07.] Divorce and last Days. 283 Grandeur of Napoleon. Struggle in his bosom. piate. She knew that Napoleon loved her fondly, but she also knew the strength of his ambition, and that he would make any sacrifice of his affection, which, in his 'view, would sub- serve the interests of his power and his glory. For three days she shut herself up in her room, and was continually bathed in tears. The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napo- leon when he was far from home, in the midst of the Prussian campaign. He had been vic- torious, almost miraculously victorious, over his enemies. He had gained accessions of pow- er such as, in the wildest dreams of youth, he had hardly imagined. All opposition to his sway was now apparently crushed. Napoleon had become the creator of kings, and the proud- est monarchs of Europe were constrained to do his bidding. It was in an hour of exultation that the mournful tidings reached him. He • sat down in silence, buried his face in his hands, and for a long time seemed lost in the most painful musings. He was heard mournfully and anxiously to repeat to himself again and again, " To whom shall I leave all this ?" The struggle in his mind between his love for Jose- phine and his ambitious desire to found a new dynasty, and to transmit his name and famo 284 Josephine. [A-D. 1807, Dejection of irs, besides many of the inhabitants of Evreux 310 Josephine. [A.D. 1813 Conversation between Napoleon and Josephine, and the environs, whom I see of course. I am pleased with their manners, with their admira- tion of you, a particular in which you know that I am not easily satisfied. In short, I find myself perfectly at home in the midst of my forest, and entreat you, sire, no longer to fancy to yourself that there is no living at a distance from court. Besides you, there is nothing there which I regret, since I shall have my children with me soon, and already enjoy the society of the small number of friends who remained faith- ful to me. Do not forget your friend. Tell her sometimes that you preserve for her an at- tachment which constitutes the felicity of her life. Often repeat to her that you are happy, and be assured that for her the future will thus be peaceful, as the past has been stormy, and often sad." Just before Napoleon set out on his fatal cam- paign to Russia, he called to see Josephine. Seated upon a circular bench in the garden, be- fore the windows of the saloon, where they could both be seen but not overheard, they continued for two hours engaged most earnestly in conver- sation. Josephine was apparently endeavoring to dissuade him from the perilous enterprise. His perfect confidence, however, seemed to as* A.D.1813.] Divorce and last Days. 317 Their last interview. Napoleon continues his correspondenc6. sure her that her apprehensions were groundless At last he arose and kissed her hand. She ac- companied him to his carriage, and bade him adieu. This was their last interview but one. Soon Napoleon returned, a fugitive from Mos- cow. Days of disaster were darkening around his path. All Europe had risen in arms against him, and were on the march toward his capital. In the midst of the terror of those dreadful days, he sought a hurried interview with his most faithful friend. It was their last meeting. As he was taking his leave of Josephine, at the close of this short and melancholy visit, he gazed upon her a moment in silence, tenderly and sadly, and then said, " Josephine ! I have been as fortunate as was ever man on the face of this earth. But, in this hour, when a storm is gathering over my head, I have not, in this wide world, any one but you upon whom I can repose." In the fearful conflict which ensued — the most terrible which history has recorded — Napoleon's thoughts ever reverted to the wife of his youth. He kept up an almost daily correspondence with her, informing her of the passing of events. His 'etters, written in the midst of all the confusion of the camp, were more affectionate and confid- ^^ng than ever. Adversity had softened his heart. 318 Josephine. [A.D.lSia Days of disaster. Approach of the allied armies In these dark days, when, with most Herculean power, he was struggUng against fearful odds, and his throne was crumbling beneath his feet, it was observed that a letter from Josephine was rather torn than broken open, so great was the eagerness of Napoleon to receive a line from her. Wherever he was, however great the emergen- cy in which he was placed, the moment a cour- ier brought to him a letter from Josephine, all other business was laid aside until it had been read. The allied armies were every day approach- ing nearer and nearer to Paris, and Josephine was overwhelmed with grief in contemplating the disasters which were falling upon Napoleon. At Malmaison, Josephine and the ladies of her court were employed in forming bandages and scraping lint for the innumerable wounded who filled the hospitals. The conflicting armies ap- proached so near to Malmaison that it became dangerous for Josephine to remain there, and, in great apprehension, she one morning, at eight o'clock, took her carriage for Navarre. Two or three times on the road she was alarmed by the cry, '' Cossacks ! Cossacks 1" When she had proceeded about thirty miles, the pole of her carriage broke, and at the same time a troop of A..D.1814.] Divorce and last Days. 319 Alarm of Josephine. Accident. Jostphine at Navarre horsemen appeared in the distance, riding down upon her. They were French hussars ; but Jo- sephine thought that they were either Cossacks or Prussians, and, though the rain was falling in torrents, in her terror she leaped from the carriage, and began to fly across the fields. She had proceeded some distance before her attend- ants discovered the mistake. The carriage be- ing repaired, she proceeded the rest of her way unmolested. The empress hardly uttered a word during this melancholy journey, but upon entering the palace she threw herself upon a couch, exclaiming, ''Surely, surely Bonaparte is ignorant of what is passing within sight of the gates of Paris, or, if he knows, how cruel the thoughts which must now agitate his breast ! Oh! if he had listened to me." Josephine remained for some days at Navarre, in a state of most painful anguish respecting the fate of the emperor. She allowed herself no re- laxation, excepting a solitary ride each morning in the park, and another short ride after dinner with one of her ladies. The Emperor Alexan^ der had immediately sent a guard of honor tc protect Josephine from all intrusion. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers were swarming in all di. rections, and every dwelling was filled with ter* Josephine. [A.D. 1814 i raelatichol;? incident. Brutality of the Cossacks. ror and distraction. One melancholy incident we will record, illustrative of hundreds which might be narrated. Lord Londonderry, in the midst of a bloody skirmish, saw a young and beautiful French lady, the wife of a colonel, in a caleche, seized by three brutal .Russian sol- diers, who were carrying off, into the fields, their frantic and shrieking victim. The gallant En- glishman, sword in hand, rushed forward for her deliverance from his barbarian allies. He suc- ceeded in rescuing her, and, in the confusion of the battle still raging, ordered a dragoon to take her to his own quarters till she could be provided with suitable protection. The dragoon took the lady, half dead with terror, upon his horse be- hind him, and was galloping with her to a place of safety, when another ruffian band of Cossacks surrounded him, pierced his body with their sa- bers, and seized again the unhappy victim. She was never heard of more. The Emperor Alex- ander was greatly distressed at her fate, and made the utmost, though unavailing efforts to discover what had become of her. The revela- ^tions of the last day alone can divulge the hor- rors of this awful tragedy. The grief of Josephine in these days of anxi- ety was intense in the extreme. She passed A.D.1814.] Divorce and last Days. 321 Affecting note from Napoleon. His downfall her whole time in talking about Napoleon, or in reading the letters she had lately received from him. He wrote fre^juently, as he escaped from place to place, but many of his letters were in- tercepted by the bands of soldiers traversing ev- ery road. The last she had received from him was dated at Brienne. It gave an account of a desperate engagement, in which the little band of Napoleon had been overwhelmed by numbers, and was concluded with the following affecting words : " On beholding those scenes where I had passed my boyhood, and comparing my peaceful condition then with the agitation and terrors which I now experience, I several times said, in my own mind, I have sought to meet death in many conflicts ; I can no longer fear it. To me death would now be a blessing. But I would once more see Josephine." Notwithstanding the desperate state of affairs, Josephine still cherished the hope that his com- manding genius would yet enable him to re trieve his fortunes. All these hopes were, how- ever, dispelled on the receipt of the following letter : " Fontaiiiebleau, April 16, 1814, ** Dear Josephine, — I wrote to you on the eighth of this month, but perhaps you have not X 822 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 Letter from Napoleon to Josephine. False friends received my letter. Hostilities still continued, and possibly it may have been intercepted. At present the communications must be re-estab- lished. I have formed my resolution. I have no doubt that this billet will reach you. I will not repeat what I said^ you. Then I lament- ed my situation, now I congratulate myself upon it. My head and spirit are freed from an enor- mous weight. My fall is great, but it may, as men say, prove useful. In my retreat I shall substitute the pen for the sword. The history of my reign will be curious. The world has yet ^een me only in profile. I shall show myself in full. How many things have I to disclose ! how many are the men of whom a false estimate is entertained ! I have heaped benefits upon mill- ions of wretches I What have they done in the end for me ? They have all betrayed me — ^yes, all. I except from this number the good Eu- gene, so worthy of you and of me. Adieu I my dear Josephine. Be resigned as I am, and nev- er forget him who never forgot, and never will ''irget you. Farewell, Josephine. "Napoleon. "P.S. — I expect to hear from you at Elba, I am not very well." A.D 1814.] Divorce ^nd last Days. 323 Josephine rrsolves not to abandon Napoleon. Honor paid to Josephina Upon reading these tidings of so terrible an overthrow, Josephine was overwhelmed with grief, and for a time wept bitterly. Soon, how- ever, recovering her self-possession, she ex- claimed, ''I must not remain here. My pres- ence is necessary to the emperor. That duty is, indeed, more Maria Louisa's than mine, but the emperor is alone — forsaken. Well, I at least will not abandon him. I might be dispensed with while he was happy ; now, I am sure that he expects me." After a pause of a few mo- ments, in which she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts, she addressed her chamberlain, say- ing, '' I may, however, interfere with his ar- rangements. You will remain here with me till intelligence be received from the allied sov- ereigns ; they will respect her who was the wife of Napoleon." She was indeed remembered by them. The magnanimity of her conduct under the deep wrongs of the divorce had filled Europe with admiration. The allied soverei£:ns sent her as- surances of their most friendly regards. They entreated her to return to Malmaison, and pro- vided her with an ample guard for her protec- tion. Her court was ever crowded with the most illustrious monarchs and nobles, who 324 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 Commendation of Alexander. Letter to' Napoleon sought a presentation to do homage to her vir- tues. The Emperor Alexander was one of the first to visit her. He said to her on that occa- sion, " Madam, I burned with the desire of beholding you. Since I entered France, I have never heard your name pronounced but with benedictions. In the cottage and in the palace I have collected accounts of your angelic good- ness, and I do myself a pleasure in thus pre- senting to your majesty the universal homage of which I am the bearer." Maria Louisa, thinking only of self, declined accompanying Napoleon to his humble retreat. Josephine, pot knowing her decision, wrote to the emperor : " Now only can I oalculate the whole extent of the misfortune of having beheld my union with you dissolved by law. Now do I indeed lament being no more than your friend, who can but mourn over a misfortune great as it is unexpected. Ah ! sire, why can I not fly to you? Why can I not give you the assur- ance that exile has no terrors save for vulgar minds, and that, far from diminishing a sincere attachment, misfortune imparts to it a new force ? I have been upon the point of quitting France to follow your footsteps, and to conse- crate to you the remainder of an existence A.D.1814.] Divorce and Li st Days. 325 rJustrioua party at Malmaison. Illness of Josep hine. which you so long embellished. A single mo- tive restrained me, and that you may divine. If I learn that I am the only one who will ful- nll her duty, nothing shall detain me, and I will go to the only place where, henceforth, there can be happiness for me, since I shall be able to console you when you are there isolated and unfortunate I Say but the word, and I de- part. 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." A few days after this letter was written, the Emperor Alexander, wnth a number of illustri- dws guests, dined with Josephine at Malmai- son. In the evening twilight, the party went out upon the beautiful lawn in front of the house for recreation. Josephine, whose health had become exceedingly precarious through care and sorrow, being regardless of herself in devo- tion to her friends, took a violent cold. The next day she was worse. Without any very definite form of disease, she day after day grew more faint and feeble, until it was evident that her final change was near at hand. Eugene and Hortense, her most affectionate children, 326 Josephine. [A.D. 1814, Joeephine always desired the happiness of France. Aflecting prayer were with her by day and by night. They communicated to her the judgment of her phy sician that death was near. She heard the tidings with perfect composure, and called for a clergyman to administer to her the last rites of religion. Just, after this solemnity the Emperor Alex- ander entered the room. Eugene and Hortense, bathed in tears, were kneeling at their mother's side. Josephine beckoned to the emperor to approach her, and said to him and her children, " I have always desired the happiness of France. I did all in my power to contribute to it ; and I can say with truth, to all of you now present, at my last moments, that the first wife of Na- poleon never caused a single tear to flow." She called for the portrait of the emperor ; she gazed upon it long and tenderly ; and then, fervently pressing it in her clasped hands to her bosom, faintly articulated the following prayer : " O God ! watch over Napoleon while he re- mains in the desert of this world. Alas ! though he hath committed great faults, hath he not expiated them by great sufferings ? Just God, thou hast looked into his heart, and hast seen by how ardent a desire for useful and durable improvements he was animated. Deign to ap- A.D.1814.] Divorce and last Days. 327 Death of Josephine. Tribute to her memory by Alexander. prove my last petition. And may this imago of my husband bear me witness that my latest wish and my latest prayer were for him and my children." It was the 29th of May, 1814. A tranquil summer's day was fading away into a cloud- less, serene, and beautiful evening. The rays of the setting sun, struggling through the foli- age of the open window, shone cheerfully upon the bed where the empress was dying. The vesper songs of the birds which filled the groves of Malmaison floated sweetly upon the ear, and the gentle spirit of Josephine, lulled to repose by these sweet anthems, sank into its last sleep. Gazing upon the portrait of the emperor, she exclaimed, " L'isle d'Elbe — Napoleon!" and died. Alexander, as he gazed upon her lifeless re- mains, burst into tears, and uttered the follow- ing affecting yet just tribute of respect to her memory : " She is no more ; that woman whom France named the beneficent, that angel of goodness, is no more. Those who have known Josephine can never forget her. She dies re- gretted by her offspring, her friends, and her cotcmporaries." For four days lier body remained shrouded S2S Josephine. [A.D. 1814^ Fnnoral ceremonies. Monumental inscription. in state for its burial. During this time more than twenty thousand of the people of France visited her beloved remains. On the 2d ol June, at mid-day, the funeral procession moveci from Malmaison to Ruel, where the body was deposited in a tomb of the village church. The funeral services were conducted with the great- est magnificence, as the sovereigns of the allied armies united with the French in doing honor to her memory. When all had left the church but Eugene and Hortense, they knelt beside their mother's grave, and for a long time min- gled their prayers and their tears. A beautiful monument of white marble, representing the empress kneeling in her coronation robes, is erected over her burial-place, with this simple but affecting inscription : EUGENE AND HORTENSE TO JOSEPHINE. © ^68