»» 6, ; 1 / ''■•^''',00. ^©gjEFieinM; fl I S T R Y JOSEPHINE. JOHN S. C. A 13 B T T. «ajftlj 13nQra\)Cnftf. N E W \ O R K : II A u p r. u A- i!U OTHERS, ri! ni, I sii F. r« s, 1 n A N i; 1. 1 N s Q II A It R Entered, accordiiij^ to Act of Congress, in the 3'car one thousanil eight hundred and fifty-one, by Harper & Brothers, ill the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Soutlicrn District of New York. Cojiyright, 1879, by Susan Abbott Mead, PREFACE. Maria Antoinkttk, Madamo Roland, and Josephine arc the three most prominent hero- ines of the French Revolution. The history of their lives necessarily records al! the most interesting events of that most fearful tragedy which man has ever enacted. JVFaria Antoi- nette beheld the morning dawn of the Revolu- tion ; its lurid mid-day sun glared upon Mad- ame Roland ; and Josej)hine beheld the porten- tous phenomenon fade away. Kaeh of these heroines displayed traits of character worthy of all imitation. No one can read the history of their lives without being ennobled by (he contemplation of the fortitude and grandeur of spirit they evinced. To the young ladies ol our land we cs|)ecially commend the Keroinofc of tlie French Revolution. CONTENTS. Chapter. Pt<« I. LIFE IN MARTINIQUK 13 U. MARRIAGE OF JOSKPIIl.VK 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 Vll. JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON 130 rHI. JOSEPHINE THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL 149 IX. DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER 171 X. THE CORONATION 198 XI. JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS 232 Xli TH*: DIVORCE AN/J LAST DATS , 283 ENGRAVINGS. THE SIBVL 24 THE WARMNG 5>i THE PANTOMIMK 85 ISOLA BKLLA lOj rUE INTERVIEW 156 TUE COEONATION 224 JOSEPHINE. O H A r T E R I. 1,1 Ft, i.\ Martinique. Manicique. Its raricd beauties nnJIE 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 torrivl 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 tho dissi- 11 Josephine. [A.D 1760 Birth of Josephine. Iler parents' death paling influences of European and American opulence, they dwell in their secluded island in a state of almost patriarchal simplicity. About the year 1760, a young French ofiiccr, Captain Joseph Gaspard Tascher, accompanied his regiment of horse to this island. While here on professional duty, ho 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 nov.-, v/ith maternal affection, took charge of the help- icss 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 Ills largo possessions, and his (MKirgy of eliorao- A.I) 17G5.] Lii-E IN Martiniquk. 15 M. Kcnaudin. His kind trtBtmont of his slarea tor, gavo hitn 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 arc 60 often also connected with the most exquisite suffering. Josephine, in subsequent life, gavo 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 ])rolonged 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 tho 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 Renaudin often visited their cabins, spoke words of kindness to them in theii 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, sh« was protected from any undue familiarity, she scorns to have possessed even at that early day The children, who were her companions in aV A.D. 1765.] Life iii Martinique. 17 Hospitality of M. Rcnaudln 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 on« 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 Kenau- din had passed her early years in Paris, and her manners were embellished with that elegancti 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 whoso conver- sation was intellectual and improving. It at first view seems difficult to account loi the high degree of mental culture which Jo- sephine displayed, when, seated by the side of Napoleon, she was the Empress of Frano* n 18 Josephine. [A.D. 17G5 Early educaticn of Josephine. Her accomplishmcnta 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 early education, it would seem that, with the exception of the accomplish- ments of music, dancing, and drawing, she was left 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. Het passionate love for flowers had interested her deeply in the study of botany, and she also became very skillful in embroidery, that ftccom- A.D 1765.] Life in Martinique. 19 Eupbemle. She becomes Joscphint's bosom companion plishmcnt which was once deemed an essential part of the edueation 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 dfTectionateness, 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 jaine 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 !770 Popularity of Josephine. Childhood enjoy meiita ly-cultivatod mind the lowly-born child derived intellectual stimulus, and thus each day became a more worthy and congenial associate. Aa 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 homage. 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 partnei. 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 allowed them Thus she was as much beloved and ad* A.D. 1770.] Life in MARnwrQUK. 21 Chiirnctcrlstic traits. Tha fortunr>b!llor 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 ca- ffier. Josephine upon the plantation and Jo- eephine upon the throne — Josephine surrounded by the sable maidens of Martinique, and Jo- sephine moving in queenly s])lendor 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 negres.':, 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 c Id sibyl, with the cunning which is characteristic of her craft, as soon as *ihe saw Josephine approach, whom she knew perfectly, assumed an air of great agitation, and, seizing her hand violently, gazed with mosi 22 Josephine. [A.D. 1772 Predictions oi the Bibyl. Credulity earnest attention upon the lines traced upon the palm. The little negr esses 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, shQ 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, " 1 am not permitted to render my revelations more clear." In every human heart there is a vein of cre- 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- ftctly." Again the negress, assuming an air of pro* A.D 1772.J Life fs Martiniquk. 25 More prcJiutions. Their lulfillmftnt found solemnity, said, "You will not believe xne 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 be happy. You will become a widow, and then you will 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 afiair 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 eeemed 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 receiving the agreeablo announaemont that she was to wc^l heautv, and 26 JosephiIe. [AD. 1772 Explanations tM the predictions. llow tulfilled 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. Tlie 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 couid 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 poverty 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 of MaU 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 lior palace wer« A.D. 1772.J Life in Martinique. 21 Falsity of the prediction. Contemplated niatcb 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 ft 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 thoso 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 ne&,r to each other, they were often companions and play- mates. A strong attachment grew up between 28 Josephine. [A.D. 1773 Attachmcnl between Joscpliinj and William. Their scparatton them. The parents of William, and the uncle and aunt of Josephine, approved cordially of this attachment, and were desirous that these youth- ftil hearts should be united, as soon as the parties ehould arrive at mature ago. 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 •ronstant 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, tlie most popular and universally-read French A.D. 1774.] Life in Martinique. 29 Roaeeau throwing etonos. Josephine's stiprrstitioa writer of that day, in his celebrated "Confes- sions," records with ])crfcct composure that he was one day sitting in a grove, meditating whether his soul would probably be saved oj lost. lie felt that the (iu(istion was of the ut- most importance. How could he escape from the uncertainty ! A supernatural voice seemed t/1 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 faithful to her. She not unfreijuently 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 (lee})ly 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 ^Tove, 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 ! thou hast forgot- ten me I" William, however, had not forgotten her. \gain and again he had written in terms of the most ardent affection. But the friends of fosephino, 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. AD. 1775.1 Marriage of Josephine. 31 Alt.-xandcr dc Beauharnnig. Mia cliarairver Chapter II. The Marriage of Josephine. rOSEPHINE was about fourteen years of ^ age when she was separated from William A year passed away, during whieh 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 ho 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 ofK- Ber and his brother, the Marqui.'S of Beauhar* ^ Josephine. [A.D. 1775 K new suitor. Motives for the marriage nais. He visited Martinique to secure the proof of his title to these estates. M. Renaudin held ^sorne 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 nor 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 theii power to promote a match apparently so eligi- ble. The ambition of M. Renaudin was moved at the thought of conferring upon his niece, tho 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, fur Bome time allowed no emotion of love to How out t-oward hiin. One morning Josephine was sitting in tho library in pensive musings, when her uncle came into tho room to open to her the subject of her A.D.J 775.] Marriage of Josephine ob llie nnnounccmcnt Feelings of Josepbintv contemplated marriage with M. Beauharnai.s. 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 fbced upon William. I have been solemnly promised to him." " That is utterly impossible, my child," her uncle replied. " '^Jircumstances are changed. All our hopes are centered in you. You must obey our wishes." " And v.'hy," said she, " have you chanjrejl your intentions in reference to William ?" Her uncle replied : " You will receive by in- neritance 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 mako 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. Boauharnais. The engagement had written her, replete with the most earnest spirit of constancy and affection. Josephine, but fifteen years of ai^c, could not, under these circumstances, resist the influencea now brought to bear upon her. M. Beauhar- nais was a gentleman of fascinating accomplish- 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 affections, unrestrained, to repose upon her betrothed. Though her heart stiU clung to William, she thought that he had found other friends in England, in wliose pleasant com- panionship he had lost all remembrance of tho island maiden who had won his early love. Alexander Boauharnais, .soon after his en- A. D. 1775.] Marriage of Josei'iiine. 'SH Departure from Martinique. Paiting acenec gagemcnt to Josephine, embarked for France. Arrangements had been made for Josephine, in tho 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 thouglit of William and spoke of him, and at times had misgivings lest there might be somo 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 tho 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 anxiety, of tenderness, and of regrets. 36 Josephine. IA.D. 1775 Joeephine's arrival in France. Her interview with William. Little, however, could she imagine the careei of strange vicissitudes upon which she was about to enter. The voyage was long and tempestuous. IStorms 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 unknown 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 Fontaineblcau, 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- taineblcau 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 of Josephine. 37 Ksplftnation of William. Distress of Joscphintst other had proved untrue. The next day Will- iam called alone; Josephine, the betrothed bride of Beauharnais, prudently declined seeing him lie 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 who were determined that she should marry Alexander Beauharnais. She was told that the friends of William had decided unalterably that he should marry an Enghsh heiress, and that the fortunes of his lather's family were dependent upon that alii- ance. The servant who had been the bearsr 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 hei 3h Josephine. [ A.D. 1775. Josephine retires to a convent. Slie marries the Viscount Beauhamnia bed. She entreated her friends to allow her for a few months to retire to a convent, that slia 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 seo 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 with 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 oasf^ionately, at- tae'ii'il to liitM A.D. 1777.] Marriage of Josephink. 89 Paeliionablc life. Josephine ia 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 car, 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 lavisiied 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. IMaria 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 liei without the formality of a public presentation iO Josephine. [A.D. 177^ Maria Antoinette nnd Josephine. French philosophy When these two young brides met in the regai palace of Versailles — the one a daughter of Ma- ria Theresa and a descendant of the Caesars who had come from the court of Austria tc be not only the queen, but the brightest ornament tf 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 Caesars ever knew. French philosophy had at this time under- rained the religion of Jesus 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 the afTcctions of hei A..D. 1780.J Marriage ok Josephine 41 Birth of a daughter. Infidelity of Beauharaaii husband. This woman, high in rank, loved to lorture her poor victim. " VTour dear Alexan- der," she said to Josephine, " daily lavishes upon otiiers the tribute of attachment whicii 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 eflcctually between them as to s^ecure a separation. In the year 17S0 Josephine gave birth to tiei 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. Ho w^as kind to her in 42 J o s E I' H I N E. [A.D. 17S0. Birth of a son. An arch deceher. v/ords and in all tho ordinary courtesies of ni- 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 diffioulties, 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 confifJ^enoe of her etricken heart, and conversed with her about William, the memory of whose faithful love now came with new freshness to the dis- oonsolatc wife. Josephine, lured by her, wrote a letter to her frien Js in Martinique, in which she imprudently Baid, "Wore it not for my children, T should, A. D. 1783.] Marriage of Joski'ii^fc. 43 Josophinc betrayed. Applii-ution for a diTorca without a pang, renounce France forever. ]\Ty duty requires me to forget William ; and yet if ive 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 Bcauharnais. 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 want of fidelity in his wife. He 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 difliculties to the vrorld. 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 uuon which her reputation as a vir- 44 Josephine. [^A.D. 1784 Josopbine triumphant. Visit to VersaiU"s tiious woman was staked. The decree of the court was triumphantly in her favor, and Jo- sephine returned to her friends to receive tlieit oongratulations, 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 Quef.!:i of France was accustomed to lay aside tho 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 ok Josephine 45 Interview with Maria Antoinette. Kindness of the queen smiles, said, " Madame Beauharnais,! am very happy to see you at the two Trianons. You well know how to appreciate their beauties. 1 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 afllicted heart needed the consolation. The queen was acquainted with her trials, and thus nobly as- sured her of her sympathy and her confidence. Tn 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 Josephiiie. 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. Josepliine 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 invitaiion. But the thought of cross- Josephine. [A.ID. 1784 Josephine embarks for Martinique. 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 board ing-scliool. Josephine felt so deeply tho pang of separation from her beloved child, that she obtained an interview with M. Beauharnais, and implored him to allow her to take Eugene VTith 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 tiled 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 docs not appear that she had iany 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 Spi^rit, a loving and forgiving Father. Could she then, by faith, have reposed her ach« A.D. 17S'J.] Mauriag E OF JosEniiNE. 47 Jjscphinc arrivca at Martinique. Ilcr kind rcr^ptlon. 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 les.s 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 1 ho hearts of those who truly loved her. The adectionatc negroes gathered around her, with loud demonstrations of their sympathy and their joy in again meeting their mistress. Hero, 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 EUdnets of Josephine. Dissipation of Bcauh&mais Chapter III. Arrest of M. Beauiiarnais and Jose- phine. TOSEPHINE remained in Martinique three ^ years. She passed her time in tranquil sad- ness, engaged in reading, in educating Hortenso, 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 thougni 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 cocicty of sin and shame, to forget his wife and his absent daughter. He, however, soon found that no. friend can take tho place of a virtuous and an affectionate wifung ffihoemaker alone, who had arrested hei 62 Josephine. [A.D. 1790. Beneficence of Josephite. Tlie children deceived 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 ho is, it ■jertainly is not the sickness which the doctors cure." "What do you mean, my dear child?" aske(? A.D. 1790.J A RUE ST OK Josephine. 6d Indiscretions. Arrcet of JuBcpbina Josephine. " Can you suppose that papa and J 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 ?" Jose))hine 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- eners, who were placed in an adjoining room to note down his words, reported the conversation, and magnified it into a conspiracy for the over- th.row 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 th<^ir jiar-'uts. 64 Josephine. [A.D. 1790 Josephine takes leave of her sleeping children. A mother's teare Josephine, the morning 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- i 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 lici daughter, and imprinted a mother's farewoU kiss upon her forciiead. The affectionate child though asleep, clasped her arms around her mother's neck, and, s])caking the thoughts of tho dream passing through her mind, said; A..D. 1793.] Arrest OF Josephine. 65 Brutality of the soldiers. Josephine dragged to the Carmelitca. "Come to bed. Fear nothing. They shall not take you awa}' this night. I have prayed to God for you." The tumult in the outer hall continually in- creasing, Josephine, fearful of awaking Hortenso and Eugene, cast a last lingering look of love upon them, and, withdrawing 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 Re- public. They dragged their victim to the con- vent 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 of 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, Wh^/U 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 wide 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. Hortcnse, 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 hiji 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 o( Versailles, and suggested the i)ropriety of seek- mg a refuge with her. An humble female friend conducted the children to Versailles, where thej" were most kindly received. When the gloom of the ensuing night dark- ened the city, M. Boauharnais in his cheerlesa A..D. 1793.J ArrestofJoseiiiine 67 Gloomy forebodings of Bcauhfimnis and Josephine. cell, and Joscpliino 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 Ccorent of the CnrmcliteB. Quality of the prisoners Chapter IV. Scenes in Prison. FITHE 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 victims of the Revolution now crowded the prisons of France. These unhappy captives, awaiting the hour of their execution, were not the ignorant, the debased, tlie degraded, but the noblest, tho purest, the most refined of tho citizens of the A.D. 1794.J Scenes iw Prison. 69 Cheerfulness of Josephine. Reading the daily journal republic. Josephine was placecj in the chapel of the 0"«nvent, 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 smiling 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, hei 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 from the prison "windows. Anecdote of llortenee ing, the carts bearing through the streets their burden of unhappy victims who were to 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 ••'ontainebleau. Josephine was informed of this imprudent act of ardent affection, and wrote to lier child the following admirable letter : " ] should be entirely satisfied with the good heart of my Hortense were I not displeased with A.l).1794.] Scenes in Prison. 71 Letter from Josephine to Ilortcnsc. Mitigation of sercrity 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 erate. 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 td* your iiunt." There was at this time, for some unknown reason, a little mitigation in the severity with which the prisoners were treated, and Josephine was very sanguine in tiie belief that the hour of their release was at hand. Emboldened by this hope, she wrote a very earnest appe&l to the Committee of Public Safety, before whom 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 committee, 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 iir Prison. 73 The unexpected interview. Feeling nvinifestcd by DeftuhornaU she prepared herself, with as much cahnness aa possible, to meet her doom. She was led from fccr 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 her 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. Ho leaned his aching head upon the forgiving Bosom of Josephine, and surrendered himself to love, and penitence, and tears. This brief and painful interview was thcii 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. Bonuharnaia and Josephine. Hopes cheriBhcd cers came and dragged M. Bcauharnais 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 bo doomed to death without even thb 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 tlie 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 Piuson. '^T: Bnauhamuig's last letter to Joscjilunc. 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 offenses, 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 etill live in their affections. While he was writing, the executioners came in to cut off hia long hair, that the ax might do its work unim- peded. Picking up a small lock from the floor, ho wished to transmit it to his wife as his last legacy. The brutal executioners forbade bin: the privilege. He, however, succeeded in pur 76 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 Removal of the guillotine. Execution of M. Beauhamais chasing from them a few hairs, which he in- closed in his letter, and which she subsequently received. In the early dawn 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. Beauhamais, with firmness, ascended tho scaffold. The slide of the guillotine fell, and the brief drama of his stormy life was ended. While the mutilated form of M. Beauhamais 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. Tho morning after the execution, the daily journal, containing the names of those who had perished on the preceding day, was brought, as usual, to tho prison. Some of tho ladies in tho ])rison A..D. 1794.' Scenes in JPrison 77 Joflephine becomes informed 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 fears established, they tried, for a time, to conceal the dreadful intelligence from the unconscious widow. 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 hei* anguish she exclaimed, " Oh God ! let me die I 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 up<\i her soui. 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 cheerftil she was to be led to the Conciergerie, and fiom thence to her execution. These tidings 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 gathered around her, and, recalling at the mo- ment the prediction of the aged ncgrcss, gently smiling, said, "Wc have no cause for alarm, my friends ; I am not to be executed. It is written in the decrees of Fate tliat 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 wopt more A.D.17y4.j Scenes in Prison. 79 Credulity of loscphlnc. The unexpected de'.lverance bitterly. But one of the ladies, Madame d' Ai- guillon, was a little irritated at pleasantry which she deemed so ill timed. With something like resjentment, she asked, "Why, then, madam^, 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 otlier'-s arms, and, frantic with happiness, clung togeth- er in that long and heartfelt embrace which none can appreciate but those who have bcoL 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 »;mptied of their captives. A. D. 1794.) Release from Prison. 81 Robespierre. M. Tallien. MRclame dc Funtcoay Chapter V. The Release from Prison. f 1^ 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 in 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 hut the prelude of her execution. That evening F 82 Josephine. [A.D. 1794 A 1( ver's device. Execution of Robespierre detireod 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 breathe 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 Franco 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 come. A decree of accusation was preferred against him, and the head of the merciless des- pot full upon that guillotine wiicro he had al- ready caused so many thousands to perish. The day before Josephine was to have been cxecu- A.D.1794.] Releask i-rum Pr/son. 83 ilc is guillotined. Singular mode ol' conveying infonnatioa ted, he was led, mangled and bleeding, to the scafTold. Ho had attempted to commit suicide. The ball missed its aim, but shattered his jaw. The wretched man ascended the ladder, and Btood upon the platform of the guillotine. The executioners tore the bandage from his man- gled face, that the linen might not impede tho 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 tho 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 tho window, tha t she might bo revived by tho fresh f^ Josephine. [A.D. 1794 rantomimic reprcsrntation of" Robespierre's fail. 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 robe 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, wdiich in French is Pierre. Josephine again cried out pierre. The woman appeared over- joyed on perceiving that her pantomime began to be understood. Slie 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 which can not be described. She hardly dared to believe that the tyrant had actually fallen, and yet she Icnev/ not how else t: account for the .singular conduct of the wom- an . ]]ut a {e\x moments elapsed before a great noi&'c was heard in the corridor of the prison. The turnkey, in loud and fearless tones, cried out to h[s>- dog, " Get out, you cursed brute if A.B 1794.] Release from Prison. 87 Universal joy caused by the death of the tyrant. a Rt»bespierre !" This emphatic i)lirascoIogy convinced them that the sanguinary monster before whom all France had trembled was no 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 prisog 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 cm- 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 sho had any right to call for aid. There was no employment open before her by whic^i she could obtain her subsistence ; and it appeared that sho 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 the wildest dreams of earthly ambition could hardly have conceived. Though Robespiorro was dead, the strife ol A.D. 1794.] Release from Prison. 8G Heartlessness of Marat. Eugene apprenticed to on artisaa rancorous parties raged witli unabated violence, dnd blood flowed freely. Tiie 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. Voung girls from the boarding-schools, and boys just emerging from the period of childhood, were beheaded by the guillotine. " We must e.vterminate," 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 circumstances 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 Dffering her a home. Every fireside has a wcl- jjome for a noble heart Madame Dnmnnlin. n 90 Josephine. [A D. 1795 Kindness if Josephine's friends. She recovers her projiert» [ady of great elevation of character, whose largo fortune had by some chance escaped the gen- eral wreck, invited Josephine to her house, rind 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 were 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 sho 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 Mymjiathies of appreciative friends, days of se- A D. 1795.J Release from Prison. 91 A domestic sccoc. A new order of knigbttood renity, and even of joy, began to shine npon her. A domestio scene occurred in the dwelling of Josephine on the anniversary of the death of M. Bcauharnais 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 tho portrait with kisses, and wept freely. Josephine 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. Bcauharnais suspended from the neck by a black and white ribbon. " You see," said Eugene tc 92 Josephine. [A.D. 1795 ITse Order of Filial Love. Inauguration. Dcojrationa of the mom his mother, " the founders of a new order of knighthood. Behold our tutelary saint," point- ing to the portrait of his father. " And these are the first members." He then introduce^l his youthful companions to his mother. "Ours," he continued, " ^s 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 the 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 pioture-frame, and in fp.')nt were placed two vases with perfumes. Tin young gentlemen ranged thcmselve.? 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, " Ti> love theit A.D. 1795.] Rkleapi: FROM Prison. 9? ITie oath. New organizarion ol .social 80/;ii,'ty parents, succor each other, and to defend their country.''^ At this moment, Engeno, 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- jcr 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 dcscendfi from an illustrious ancestry marked all theL 94 Josephine. [A.D. 1795 ITie " Ball of the Victims." Fashiona'jle style of hair-dressing intercourse. The humiliations through which the nobles had passed had not diminished the .cxclusiveness 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 " h la guillotine." The hair was arranged 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. now insurrection by the populace of f *ari» was at this time planned against the Conven* A.D. 1795.] Release from Prison. 95 A new insurrection. The littlo Cc rsicm. tion. The exasperated people were again to march upon the Tuillcries. The members were in extreme consternation. The mcb could bring tons 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, " I know the man who can defend us ! He is a little Corsican, who dares do any thing, and is perfectly reckless of consequences !" 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 wilUng to undertake our defense ?" 86 Joseph INK. [A.D. 1795 Hapoleon's authority established. The Tuilleriea forlifiptf •' Yes !" was the cairn, laconic, and almost indifferent reply. " But are you aware of the magnitude of the indertaking ?" " Fully !•' said Napoleon, fixing his piercing eye upon the president ; " and I am in tho 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 tho avenues to the Convention. His calm and al- most superhuman energy sought no repose that night. The delay of but a few moments would hnve placed this very park of artillery, which secured his victory, in the hands of the insur- gents. When the morning dawned, the Tuil- rries, as if by magic, had assumed the aspect A a fortified camp. The little Corsican waii 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 tho A.D. 1795 Release from Prison. 97 Advance of the insurgents. Napoleon opens hia battcriea. night, the insurgents had been mustering their forces, and the mutterings of tlie approaching Btorm 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 the 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. lie 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 Jtattery, 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 «n tho streets of Paris. The thunder of hia G 98 Josephine. [A.D. 1795. Defeat of the insurgents. Ri&Dg fame of Napoleoa tones was preceded by the lightning's bolt. The merciless storm of grape-shot, sweepini,- the streets, covered the ground with the dead am' the dying. No mortal could withstand such t. conflict. The advancing foe wavered for sn 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 Co- sican, pale and calm, stood, with folded ftiins, 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 fdled with the name of Na- poleon. Some regarded him as a savior, pro- tecting the Convention ; others considered hin\ a demon, deluging tne capital with blood. One evening, Josephine was visiting at the house of a friend, and sitting by a window examining some beautiful violets, when Bonaparte was Rnnounced. Josephine had never yet mot hinn, A.D. 17'Jj.] Releask frcm Prison. 99 (lis 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 o[ 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 arc 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 I'j my seal luliich I have set ujpon France?'' This he said in such calm, quiet, imperturb- able tones, so expressive of his perfect confi- ilence 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 gen^^uaJ 100 Josephine. IA.D. 1795 Napoleon disarms the populace. The sword of Bcaubarnttis 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 tc 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 int.rvicw as decpW A.,D. 1795.] Release from Prison. 101 tfapolcon regards Josephino with interest Her opinion of him 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 Bcauharnais, 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 L^ance," 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 hojtc lotii.' 102 Josephine. [A.D 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 I you will say. Alas I 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 suflered. 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- se, said to me, ' Think they, then, I have need of tihoir 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 ])y my side, and with it T will go far ' AD. 1795.J Release from Prison. 103 flit confidence. Hia ambition uoboundod. Ilia 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 proi tect the lieads of government ! that, truly, is an event highly probable ! I know not now it is, but sometimes this waywardness gains upon me to such a degree that ahnost 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- tion had partially subsided. The times were, however, full of agitation and peril. Europe was in arms against France. There was no etable 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. 1). 1795 Napoleon's estimate of the female sex. Strength of his attachment or reading. His attachment for Josephine bo- came very ardent and passionate. The fema.e character at this time, in France, was far froru high. Napoleon had but little respect for ladies in general. The circumstances of his life had led him to form a low estimate of the sex. Ho often said 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 atTections, but of stronger ambition. Josephine was entirely sat- isfied with the singleness and the ardor of his lovo. 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. The winter thus rapidly and pleasantly passed a%vuy A. D. 1796.1 JesEPiiiNE in ItaL). 103 MuTiAge of Josephine and Napoleon. The trmy of Italy. Chapter VI. Josephine in Italy. ON 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 mero 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 fe.t and admitted that ho was tiieir master He seemed lOG Josephine. [A.D. 1706 Proclamation ;I Napoleon. He is called an igooramua insensible to mental exhaustion, or fatigue, oi hunger, or want of sleep. He was upon horse* back night and day. Almost supernatural ac tivity was infused into the army. It fell like 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 ton 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 witri 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. 1790.] Josephine in Italy. 107 Josephine ut Montebello. Her popularity try, and at Leoben, almost within sight of the steeples of Vienna, dictated a peace, which crowned him, in the estimation of his country- nncn, 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 whoso 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 kinuness. Now she was caressed by Qobles and princes ; all the splendors of a court surrounded her, and every heart did her homage Tosephine presided at all her receptions and en- tertainments with an elegance of manner so winning as perfectly to fascinate the Milanese. 108 JosEPHl^E. [A.D.1796 Pleasure excursions. Isola Bella " I conquer provinces," said Napoleon of her ai 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 sdken awnings, and streaming pennants, and ravishing music. The island of Isola Bella, or Beautiful Island, with its arcades, its hanging gardens, and its palace of mdnkish gloom, was Napoleon's favorite land- ing-j)lace. Ilcro they oft6n 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 Nnpoleon of these excursions, Josephine, with one or two other ladies, was standing under a beautiful orange-trcc, loaded with fruit, with the atten- tion of the party all absorbed in admiring the beauties of the distant landscape. Napoleon, nnporceived, 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. "Wliy, Josephine I" 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 tc him the ]X)werful friends by whom they were surrounded. The achievements which Napoleon a(!Coin. 112 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. His achievemenls. 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 ever inferior to the forces of the Austrians, he maneuvered always to secure, at any one point, an array superior to that of his antagonists. Ho 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 ills intentions ; and no mortal scrutiny could explore the thoughts fermenting in his deep and capacious mind. His personal appearance at A..1). 17i)G.] Josephine in Italy. 113 CKjBcription of Naprleon. Hia reserve. this time is thus described by an observer of hia triumphal entrance into Milan : " I beheld with deep interest and extreme at tention that extraordinary man who has per- formed such great deeds, and about whom thero is something which seems to indicate that his career is not yet terniinatcd. 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 witii more abstrac- tion than interest, as if occupied rather with what he was thinking of than with what was said to him. There is great intelligence in hia 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 which shall have their influence upon the destinies of Europe." Napoleon was fully confident of the jealousy iic had aroused, and of the vigilance with which he was watched. His caution often wounded Josephine, as he was as impenetrable to her in reference to all his political plans as to any ono 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 Napoleon 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 throw 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- cfTiciency of those who, amid the surges of ihe 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, ihat she might continue to ifazzlc the eyes of the Milanese with the splen- dor of the establishment of the liiberator of It« A.D. 1796] Josephine in Italy. 115 Napoleon'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 Ihe 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 afTord her no choice. Napoleon uncjuestionably loved Jose- phine a« 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 116 Josephine. [A.D. 1796. K young aid-de-cajnp. Affection of the Italians for Napoleon spirit could not brook the acknowledgment. Hortense and Eugene were with Josephine at Milan. Eugene, though but seventeen year? 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 unfurl 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 veneration and affection, for which wo may search history in vain for a parallel. Ita- ly consequently became the base of Napt Icon'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 ho needed to piotect these all-important interests during A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 117 Josephine ou 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- Totion to Napoleon, rendered her an ally of ex- ceeding elHciency. 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 havo 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 scenes of her court 118 Josephine. [A.D. 1796 Unembarrassei air of Josephine. She becomes the queen of etiquette at Milan, seenes 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 other."? 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 hei energies to his interests, was gaining for him in Milan vast accessions of power. She had no conception, indeed, of the greatness ho was des- tined to attain. IJut she loved lier husband. A.D. 1796.] Josephine in Italy. 119 Joacphiae an object of homage. Her powers of faacination. 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 deligiited 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 tho 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 of France were led to ally their fortunes with those of the young general, whose fame had so suddenly burst upon the world. She had tho 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 lliein 15^0 Josephine. |A.B. 171)6 Popular enthusiasm. Affected seclusion of Napoleon in return." " There is only one occasion," she again said, " in which I would voluntarily use the words / will, namely, when I would say, ^ I will 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- Al.D. 1790'.] Josephine in Italy. 121 Be becomes studious. His laudable em ilntion. Uis noble ambitioii reine, which, in compliment to him, had received the name of Rue de la Victoire, he secluded himself from the public gaze. He devoted his time most assiduously to study, and to conver- Kation 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 tiie 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 the 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 might 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 one coule the conviviality of the evening, and the party soon dispersed. Josephine, with the deepest emotion, hast- ened home, immediately summoned her car- riage, and, taking with her Hortenso and Louia A.D.1799.] Wife OF First Consul. 151 Josepliinu hastens to meet him. They cross each other's pHth Bonaparte, set out, witlioui; allowing an hom for repose, to meet her husband. She was very anxious to have an interview with him beforo 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 is 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, she 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 describo 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 coulJ 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 tho fatijrnes of travt'U 152 Josephine. [A.D. 1799 Joscphlhe'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 bv that pride which led the Roman em- peror to say, " CoDsar'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 mo. Wore T not sure of A.T).1799.] Wife of First Consdl. ISH Uncting of Josephine Had Eugene. She is repulsed l>y Niq to welcome her guests before her husband. A^ she made the tour of the apartments, supporteO 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 years, her mind, elevated and ennobled by reverses and sufferings most magnanimously borne, and cul- tivate 1 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 Bymmetry of her form. Attractiveneea of her coaversation 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 desrree 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 Malinaison " 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. Tho 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 Malmaison. There, in the retirement of green fields and luxuriant grove.s. surrounded by those scenes of nature which had peculiar charms for them both, they found thtii 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, Napoleoa VD. 1800.] Wife OF First Consul. Id The dangers of grcatncBB. Josephine's anx: .ty »nd care. often said, with a sigh, "Now it is necessary for us to go and put on again the yoke of mis- cry." The dangers of greatness soon began to hov. or 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 large 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. 180(i Remark of Napoleon to Boiirrienne. Tuilleries, we must take measures to remain there. Who has not mhabited 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 daro not ^ it" A.D. 1800.] Chakaoter devkloi-ed. 171 Bccond Itnlion cnnipaign. Its brilliant result!, Chapter IX. Developments of Ciiaracter. TOURING 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, ever 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 ills government, now turned his thoughts toward the defeated armies of France, whicli 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." Ho 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 Iwr months. In that brief period lie drove the AusH-rians 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 powci. These astonishing victories excited the Pari*. 172 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 Napoleon's desire to loave a name. A faithful correspondent ians to a delirium of joy. Night after night the streets were illuminated, and whenever Napcf- leon appeared, crowds thronged him, filling tho 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 Mahn.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 tho horse's back, with hardly one moment allowed for refreshment or repose, rarely did « single day pass in which he did not transmit some token of afleotion to Malmaison. Jose- phine daily watched, with the most intense in- terest, tho arrival of the courier with the brio/ /l.D. 1800.J Char ACT KR developku. 173 Di'licatc nttcntions of Napoleon to Joscpiiinc. IUt 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 Hortensc, who was peculiarly fond of all those pleasures which had the concomitants of graceful display. After Napoleon's triumphant return from It- 174 Josephine. fA.D. 1800 Retirement ut Malmaison. Private tlicatiicals aiy, the visits to Malmaison were more frequent than ever before. Napoleon and Josephine oft- ?n spent several days there ; and in after years they frequently spoke of theae hours as the pleasantest they had passed in life. The agree- able retirement of Malmaison was, however, 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 tliroughout 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 p*;rformances, in which botli had talents to excel But tile favorite and most characteristio amusement at Malmaison was the game of " Prisoners," a common game among the school- boys of France, though comparatively little A 1). iSOO.j Character develoi'ed 175 The gnme of" Prisoners." The mode of playing it known in this country. The company is divi- ded into two parties. Those who arc 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 who 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 misanthropo 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, rolling 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. ISOO.] Character DEVELorEU. 17? Josephine's expansive benevolence. But the life of Josephine was not devoted to amusement. While she entered with warmth into these sports, being the soul of every I'estivo party, lier heart was consecrated to the promo- tion of happiness in every way in her power. When a ciiild, 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 ot revolution had driven from their homes and from Prance, 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 178 JosEniiNE. [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 he 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 law.s had fallen with fearful severity upon all tho members of the ancient aristocracy and all the friends of royalty. Tho cause of these victims of anarchy Josephine was ever ready to espouse A noble fiiinily by the name of Dccrest had A.D. I800.| Charactbr developed 179 The Marquis of Decrcst Accidental deatli -if liis sua 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 hei purse. On the evening of a festival day, a grand display of fire-works was exhibited on the banivs 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 marriage to the daughter 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 alllictivc 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 Madame 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 tiiis alllictive scene, Josephino entered the saloon of Madame Montesson. Her 180 Josephine. [A.D. 1800 JoBepliine arrests tlie grief of Decrest. Her teD(ler;>esa 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 children. He was at first astonished at the sight. Then, bursting into tears, he exclaimed, •' Yes ! I have much for which I am yet bound lo 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 alono 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." Josephine had herself wen days as dark as could lower over a mortal's path. Love for her children was then the only tie which hound her to life. In those days of anguish shfl A. D. 1800.] Character developed. 181 Tbe Infernal Machine. Its power. Horter.«e wounded learned the only appeal which, under these cir- cumstances, could touch a despairing father's heart. Several conspiracies v»-eve 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 lias 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 Hortcnse and one or two others, followed in another carriage. In passing from the Tuillcries to the theater, it was necessary to pass through the narrow street St. Nieaire. X 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, which was heard all over Paris. Eight persons were instantly killed and more than si.xty wounded. Some of the houses in the vicinity were nearly blown down. The windows of bclh the carriages were shattered, and Hortense wa.^ slightly wounded by the broken glass. Napo- leon drove on to the opera, where he found tho audience in the utmost consternation, for th«> 182 JoscniiNE. [A.D. 1800 Nnpoleon pncoeds to the opera. Narrow escape of Josephini' explosion had shaken the whole city. He en- tered with a countenance as perf;ictly 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 theate,. 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 arc 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 lo one of hvt rt..D. 1800.] Character De v i:i. uim: d. 183 IVcnchery of the Royalista. Fouch*. Rttcndants, " bring me the general's favorite r will wear tliat." A delay of a few moments was caused in exchanging the shawls. In th^ mean time, Napoleon, with his friends, entered his carriage and drove on. Josepliine 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 tc the surprise of Napoleon and of all Europe, that 'Jie 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 disguise 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. Josephiim 181 Josephine. [A. D. 1800. Josephine's letter to the Minister of Police. immediately wrote a letter to Fouclie, mo.sst strikingly indicative of the benevolence of her noble heart, and of that strength of mind which could understand that the claims of justice mus< not pass unheeded. " Citizen-Minister, — While I yet tremble at the frightful event which has just occurred, i am disquieted and distressed through fear of t\\( punishment necessarily to be inflicted on the guilty, who belong, it is said, to families with whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. 1 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 ; but 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 I conjure you, therefore, to do all in your power to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. Do not detect all those ])ersons who may have been accomplices in these odious transactions. Lei not France, so long ovsrwhelmed in consterna tion by public executions, groan anew beneath A.D. 1800.] Character Developed. 185 She pleads for lenity in behalf of tlio guilty. such inflictions. It is even better to cndeavoi to sootiie the public mind than to exasperate men by fresh terrors. In short, when 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 camo utterly insupportable. They separated. The story of their domestic quarrels vibrated dpon the car of Europe. Louis wandered here A..D 1801.J Character devk loped. 193 Happiness to which she might havo attainehine's heart. The palace of St. Cloud more comfortably. Whenever any of her house- hold were sick, Josephine promptly visited their bedside, and with her 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 hajv 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 Republican 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 I'lic display of queenly graces than A.D.1802.] The Coronation. 203 Napoleon's views of Christianity. Striking remark* did Josephine ; and Napoleon, now constituted first consul for life, reigned with pomp and power which none of his predecessors had ever surpassed. The few remaining forms of the Republic rapidly disappeared. Josephine exerted much influence 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. Ho 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 walking here alone, when the church bells of the village of Ruel rang at sunset. I was strongly moved, so vividly did the imago of early days come back with that 204 Josephine. [A.D. 1802 Influence of Josephine in the re-establishment of Christianity. sound. Tf it be thus with me, what must it bo 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 knew 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 tiie 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 wa^ A.D.1802.] The Coronation. 205 Rcligioiis ceremony nt NOtre Dame. Proclnmaticn of Nnjiolcon. preparing to go to the Cathedral, one of his col- leagues, Cambaccres, entered the room. " Well," said the first consul, rubbing his hands in fijie 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, Decency .'" In the noble proclamation which the first sonsul 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 Christian charity recommended. Triumph of Christianity other by tJie endearing name of brothers, and acknowledged their common equality in the sight of Heaven. The dying, left alone in hia 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 you profess, unite you all i'l 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, ho felt compelled to reinstate its observances. Josephine cherished emotions of the deepest gratitude toward all those who had proved A.D.1800.] The Coronation. 207 Madame Tollien disliked by Nnpoleon. Diseipadon in Pnri« friendly to her in the days of her adversity Najxileon, 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 ncv/' 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 toward 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, accompajiied by Eugene, occasionally looked in upon the .lancors at the masked balls. On one of tiiosa 208 Josephine. [A.U. 1800 fncident at a masked ball. Josephine and Madame Tallica 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 for 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 room, in earnest conversation, caught my at- tontion. 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 lias effaced from the list of my particular friends ; and from fear le?t he should manifest his displeasure directly against 08 have I now come hither alone with my son. At this uiomcnt they believe me sound asleep in my bed at the Tuillories ; but I determined on coming to see, to warn, and to console you and, above all, to justify myself." A.D. 1800.] The Coronation. 209 rhe Btolon interview. Eugene 'uterrupt« 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. feotion. Heaven is my v^itness that the loss of your friendship would be to me much more painful than any dread of Bonaparte. In th'^yse difficult times, I have maintained a conduct that might, perhaps, render my tislits an honor, but f will never importune you to receive me with- out his consent. He was not consul when Tal- lien followed him into Egypt, when I received jou both into my house, when I shared with vou — " 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. You know that ho does not love Ouvrard, and it is said that ho often sees you." " What, then," Madame Tallien replied, " because he governs France, does he expect to tyrannize over our hearts ? Must we sacrific« Ix) him our private friendships ?" At that moment some one knocked at the door, and Eugene Boauharnais entered. " Ma- dame," said ho to his mother, " you have luseu O 210 Josephine. ^A.D.lSOf Ouvrard. Rumors. Apprehensions of Joecpuiiw now more than an hour absent. The counci'i of ministers is perhaps over. "What will the 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- jMirs, 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 would 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 that he should obtain a divorce and marry again ; ihat 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 policv A.I). 1800.] The Coronation. 211 AubcHntn. lutroductiun 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 a])pcared in the Moniteur, evidently pre- paring the way for the throne. Josephine gently appronchcd her husband, sat down upon his knee, alFectionatcly 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- Bulship, 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 tho consular establishment S12 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, moro gracious than usnal, refused nobody, and we I A..D. 1800.] The Coronation. 213 losephine advocntcs the cause of the Bourbons. A prcaent were sure of obtaining every thing we asked, as r have myself many times experienced." The Bourbons had been for some time in cor- roepondence 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 sudcred 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 bo Empress of France, with iieartfelt sincerity she replied, " To be the wife of the first consul ful- fills my highest ambition. Let me remain so." The Bourbons expressed mucii 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 3xposed Jose- phine to much danger. The inhabitants of Antwerp had made Napoleon a present of sii magnificent bay horses. With four of these spirited steeds harnessed to the carriage, Napo- leon was one day taking an airing, with Jose- [)\\'\ni^ and Cambacercs, the second consul, in 5*14 Josephine [A.D. 1800 Rapoleon takes to the whip. Accident resulting from liis unskillfuliiosn the par'c. Napoleon, taking a fancy to drivo four in hand, mounted the coach-box, and dc- ear, his favorite coachman, was stationed be- hind. The horses soon discovered that they had a new and inexperienced driver, and start- ed ofi 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. Cajsar kept shouting to Napoleon, " Keep in the middle !" Cambaoe- res, pale with fright, thrust his head out of the window, and shouted " Whoa I 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. Kapoleon was thrown from his seat to the dis- tance of eight or ten paces, and was taken up Insensible. He, however, soon recovered. On rstiring at night, thoy amused themselves in talking over the misadventure. " Mon ami," said Joscphhie, laughing, " you must render unto Cu:';sar Iho ihin'^s that bo Ctesar's. Let A.D. 1800.1 The CouoNATfoN. 215 Nayoleon's views of death. Subsequent chnngc of opinion liiin keep his whip. Each to his vocation.' The conversation was continued for some tima in a tone of pleasantry. Gradually Napoleon became more ^'CYious. He scorned to be reflect- ing deeply, and 5ald that he never before came so near to death. ""Indeed," said he, "I was for some moments vlrtaally 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. 2l6 Josephine. [A.D. 1802 ReisinnBtrances of Josephine. Titled EcgUshtnen in Parii and marriage." Again she is represented as Baying, " 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 1 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 wero 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. Eufrone Beauharnais was immediately A.D. 1802.J The OoiioNATiDN. 217 Josephine invites tlicm to Malmaison. Their reception after announced. After a few words of regret 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 wiiole party proceeded to JNIalmaison. 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 ho saw and heard. 218 Jdsephine. [A.D. 1804, Dissipation in Paria. Napoleon declared emperor Ten years had passed, during which Franco had been in a state of constant warfare. The short peace which succeeded the treaty of Amiens filled Paris v/ith 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 tho negative. A more unanimous expression of a nation's will history never has recorded. The day after his elevation to tho imperial throne, the emperor leld a grand lovce at the Tuille- rics, and Josephine, with many fears darkening this hour of exultation, made her first appear- ance as the Empress of France. The decree announcing Napoleon Bonaparto to bo the em A..D.1S04.] The Coronation. 219 lusoptilne's fears. Grand lcv6e. Josephine's elcratcd position peror of France also declared that the imperial dignity should be hereditary in his family. The empress struggled against her fears, but her heart 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 tho position of the mo^t illustrious of the queens of Europe. The power of her husband was supe- rior to that of any of the surrounding monarchs, 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 pageani was to take place in the church of Notre Dame The })opo came from Rome to place the crown upon this lofty, though plebeian brow. For ten centuries such an honor had not been conferred ujHin any monarch. Thf dny was clear and brill- 220 JosEPiiiNC. [A.D.1804 Preparati.~ns for the coronation. Dress of Josephine iant, but intensely cold. The venerable walls of Notre Dame had never before witnessed 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, fovir 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 \.D. 1804.] The Coronation. 221 Dress of Napoleon. Thn imperial carria^ four rows of pearls interlaced with diamonds. In front were several very large" brilliants, one of which weighed one hundred and forty-nino 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 ho 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 devisi*. [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, lightlv changed her scat, et the same timt 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 I unless you prefer riding vis-^-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 mile and a half, extending from the Tuilleries to Notre Dame. Ten thousand horsemen, in most gor- geous uniforms, attended the carriages. Haifa 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 enthusiastio acclamations of the vast multitude. A pageant more sublime this world perhaps has never wit nessed. The throne, which was hung with crimson velvet, was overarched with a canopy of the same rich material. It was ascended by twen- ty-two circular steps, whic^ were covered with blue cloth, studded with golden bees. The most illustrious officers of the empire crowded the stairs. Napoleon and Josephine sat, side by «ido, upon the throno T^rc rcligiijus ceremonv A.D. 1804.] The Coronation. Napoleon crowns himself nnd Josephine. A touching sccco 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 gracefully 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 moment? of anguish for Josephine. In the brief speech which the emperor made upon the occasion, he said, " My descendants will long sit upon this throne.'''' These words were as a dagger to the I' 22(5 Josephine. [A.D. 1804. Pious emotions of Josephine. Impatience of NapolcoB 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 emperoi 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 ho entered, "Off, off with these confounded trappings I" He threw the mantle into one corner of the room, and the gor- geous robe into another, and, thus violently dis« oncumbcring himself, declared that hours of A.D. 1804.] The Coronation. 227 nscpliine'8 fcrclwding* fal(illi such mortal tediousncss he had never encoun- tered before. Josephine, in her remonstrances with Napo- leon against assuming tlie crown, predicted, with almost 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 i? 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 with surpassing gracefulness tiie con- gratulations of France and of Europe, her heart was heavy. She clearly foresaw the peril of 228 Josephine. [A.D. 1«04 Joscphiae's regrets. , Corruption of tbo court of Franca fchcir 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 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 gentlemen and ladies the most illustrious in rank, all of whom were emulous of the honor of being presented to me. But my time was no longer at my command. The emperor was receiving from every ])art 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 I feared his fall." The court of P'rance 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..I).1804] The Coronation. 229 Napoleon sorupulous in forming his court Tlie Duchess d'Aig lillon vailed at Versailles, the Tnilleries, 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 her at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Jo- sephine wrote to her in tho following terms : " My dear Friend, — I am deeply afflicted. My formoT friends, suoposing that I am able tc ^30 Josephine. [A/D. 1804 Letter from Josephine to the Duchess d'Aiguilli-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 rC' fusal has occasioned mc uns])eakablc regret, but he is too absolute to leave even the hope of seeing him retract. I am thus constrained t« A.D.1804.] The Couonation. 231 Josepliino not her own mtetrces. renounce the pleasure I had promised myself of being constantly with you, studying to mako 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 fi^tes. Ascent of a balloi n Chapter XI. Josephine an Empress. kURING 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 iniperial crown, brilliantly illuminated, was launched, the evening of the coronation, from Paris. The vast structure, weighing five luindred 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 twoiity-four hours." AD.lfeOo.] Josephine AN Empress. 233 The Italians petition Napoleon to be their king. Crosf'ing 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- |)hine accompanied licr 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 tiled with blue satin, similarly ornamented with silver. The sedans were, however, but little used, except in places where walking was dan- gerous, as the empress very much preferred 234 Josephine. [A .D. 1805 ilappiness af Josephine. Viev^a from the AJjia leaning upon the arm of her husband, and, in conversation with hinij 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 CaBsars might have en- vied. Illuminations, and triumphal arches, and enthusiastic 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 fmc 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.J Josephine AN Empress. 235 Splendid fete on the field of Marcugo to pass over these most sublime of the barriers of nature, with Napoleon for a guide and a con- fiding friend. Pope Pius VII., who had formed ^ 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 "fided 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 236 Josephine. [A.D..1805 A sublime spectacle. Trimnplial 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 hig reign. The iron crown of Charlemagne, which A.D. 1805.J Josephine an Empress. 237 The coronation. Napoleon again crowns himself and Jo«;phina 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 enthusiastio 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 Paris. 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 mcst ■najestic character. The Italians still look baclt 238 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Entertoinaicnts 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 seene 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 tlio 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 yf)U 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 ')ur ever having twenty louis?" The emperor _)oured into her lap three thousand francs (about six hundred dollars) in glittering gold. For a few moments she was speechless in bewilder- ment ; at lengtii, trembling with emotion, she A.D.1805.] Josephine an Empress. 23H flccepticn at Genoa. A flonling gnrdrn 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 240 JOSETHINE. [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 tirelesfci 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 in thrt slightest particular from the written direc- .\D.1805.j Josephine A^f 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 law." Josephine persevered in the attempt, and accomplished the passage Ihrough, 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. Josephine and her ladies were Q 242 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Josephine receives a lecture. Her mind well elored 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- son.*' 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.J Josephine AN Empress. 243 Her kindness to her attendants. Visits the battis at Aix, of any of the families of the ladies who were with her, slie 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 jiassing a few days for the benefit of the baths. One cvenin«^ she was sitting, with her ladies aroimd 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 244 Josephine. [A.D. 1805. Jose.phine 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, know nothing about this unex- pected movement, there was no crowd in the streets to impede their way, and they proceed- ed without any difliculty, 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 c-.iriosity 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 siiops which lined the streets, instant- A. D 1805.] fosFPHiNE AN Empress. 245 Enthusinsm of the people. The party return od fckot ly, 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 t<» their consternation, they found their path blaz- ing with illuminations. Their whole route was filled with a dense throng of men, women, and children, all 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. Josephine, 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 jf some nobleman of the court. The populace respectfully opened ])efore them, and closed up behind. The plumes, and diamonds, and ga\ 246 Josephine. [AD, 1805 Josephine's candor. Fond of breakfasting in the open »ir 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 clievalier 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 ftltirc, and uniforms and liveries, all combinei 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 ho preeentation. Josephine's maternal seneitivencsak to the wishes of Napoleon. Napoleon and Jo- sephine, aceompanicd 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 rjf court etiquette, should have been included with Napoleon and Josephme 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 ill! been made by him, he was not a little piqued iu 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, aot, 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 Au expensive compliment. A delightful excursion the shoulders of each of them one of her rich white Cashmere shawls. These shawls were of the most costly texture, and had been purchaced 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 all 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, ho 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 CcrBonal habita of Napoleon. He elecpa on the ficcj of battia ous impression, that Napoleon could work con- stantly and habitually with v^iry few hours de- voted to sleep. She says that this was an erro- neous impression. If the emporor 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 eminence, 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 tiiis 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 JIalmaison 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- tigue. 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 plea.s- ure in siipcrintending their culture. A detach- I nent of the imperial guard was, on such occa- oions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One evening the empress, sitting up till a later hnui A.D.1805.] Josephine an Empres?<. 251 Anecdote. Instructions to a lady respecting etiquetUk 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 havo no need of a night-guard. These brave soldiers have enough to sufier 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 oihcr 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 tliird, en pvouctle^ wiien hav- 252 Josephine. [A.D.1S05 The court at Cologne. Ku pirouelit ing arrived within a few paces of the emperor and empress. Tiie 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 awkward, all wore 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. E71 pirouette was tho 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, tho snme lady who liad 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 ef the ?arge sums which escaped through her hands. In replying once to a friend, who told 254 Josephine. [A.D.1805. Josephine 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 circum.stan- 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 ho was guilty, immediately seated Ijimself upon the same sofa with the empress. Josephine was unwilling to wound the feelings of the honest-hearted ol(i A.D,1805.] Josephine AN Empress, 255 The explanation. Marriage of Eugene. Ilappinees of Josepbin* soldier, and permitted him to retain his sca\ until he withdrew. Napoleon was perfeotlj 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 the French Republic — as the heir of his crown. The 25(5 Josephine. [A.D.3805. Josephine nniversallj beloved. Iler 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 tobk 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 foresiglit of the country has provided for its defenders, it is composed of seven handsome barracks, diflfer- ent in form and aspect, each isolated, surrounded with an orchard in full bearing, a well-stocked poultry-yard, and, at different distances, a great- A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 257 Beautiful etjract from one of her journnU. cr 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 picturesque, 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 tlic higliest pitch by sitting down at a table at once quite military and perfectly pas- toral. I dare not mention the attentions of whieli I was the object. They afleeted me deeply. J regarded them as proofs of that veneration which France has vowed to the emperor." The infamous FcrdinttnO c( Spain, who wa P 259 Josephine. [A.D. 1805 Ferdinand of Spain. A pi>;turesque scenn then 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, lie entreats her not to deprive herself of an oflfering at once so use« ful and 60 agreeable.' ' Don Pedro,' replied the A.D. 1805.] Josephine an Empress. 2o9 Routine of life. Account thereof by a valet do chambro 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 ing 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 Morning occupations. Literary enjoyinenta 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 c 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 bo 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 wark of that kind. If ho happened to find a novel in the hands of any of the attendants of the palace, lie 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 ConfiJcntinI intervicwa. The drive. Dressing for Jinnei phino 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 where the ladies were reading. His presence was ever cordially greeted, and, with great so- ciability, he would for a fev/ moments converse 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 J o s E p H I N £. [ A.D, 1S05 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 Buch occasions, and suggesting the robe or tb** 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, he 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 ma*, 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.)7 Uer joy at bis birth. Iter desire fcr in irmatian " Meanwhile, it is not possible for me to de- lay telling you that, more than any one in the world, do I rejoice in your joy. And you will not doubt my sincerity when I here say that, far from feeling an affliction at a sacrifice nee- essary for the repose of all, I congratulate my. self on having made it, since I now suffer alone. But I am wrong ; I do not suffer while you are happy, and I have but one regret, in not having yet done enough to prove how dear you were to me. I have no account of the health of the em- press. I dare to depend upon you, sire, so far as to hope that I shall have circumstantial de- tails of the great event which secures the per- petuity of the name you have so nobly illustrat- ed. Eugene and Hortense will write me, im- parting their own satisfaction ; but it is from you that I desire to know if your child be well, if he resembles you, if I shall one day be per- mitted to see him. In short, I expect from you unlimited confidence, and upon such I have some claims, in consideration, sire, of the bound' less attachment I shall cherish for you while life remain?." She had but just dispatched this letter to Na- poleon, when the folding-doors were thrown open with much state, and the announcement, " From SOS Josephine. [A.D. 1811 A letter from Napoleon. Deep emotion of Joscphiae the emperor," ushered in a page, the bearer of a letter. The fragile and beautiful youth, whom Josephine immediately recognized, had so care- fully secured the emperor's billet, from fear of losing it, that it took some time for him, in his slight embarrassment, to extricate it. Josephine was almost nervously excited till she received the note, and immediately retired with it to hei own private apartment. Half an hour elapsed before she again made her appearance. Her whole countenance attested the intensity of the conflicting emotions with which her soul had been agitated. Her eyes were swollen with weeping, and the billet, which she still held in her hand, was blurred with lier tears. She gave the page a letter to the emperor in reply, and then presented him, as an acknowledgment of her appreciation of the tidings he had brought, with a small morocco case, containing a dia- mond breastpin, and a thousand dollars in gold. She then, with a tremulous voice, and smil- ing through her tears, read the emperor's note ♦^^o her friends. The concluding words of the note were, " This infant, in concert with our Euf^ene, will constitute my happiness and that of France." As Josephine read these worda v;ith emphasis, she exclaimed, " Is it piissiblo A..D.1811 j Divorce and i.am- Days. 30» Amiability of Napoleon. He preeonta bis eon to Joecphinn to be more amiable ! Could any thing be bet- ter calculated to soothe whatever might be painful in my thoughts at this moment, did 1 not so sincerely love the emperor? This unit- ing of my son with his own is indeed worthy of him who, when he wills, is the most deUght- ful of men. This is it which has so much moved me." The emperor often afterward called upon her. He soon, notwithstanding the jealousy of Ma- ria Louisa, arranged a plan by which he pre- sented to Josephine, in his own arms, the idol- ized child. These interviews, so gratifying to Josephine, took place at the Royal Pavilion, near Paris, Napoleon and Madame Montesquieu, governess to the young prince, being the only confidants. In one of Josephine's letters to Na- poleon, she says, " The moment I saw you en- ter, leading the young Napoleon in your hand, was unquestionably one of the happiest of my life. It efTaced, for a time, the recollection of all that had preceded it, for never have I re» oeivcd from you a more touching mark of af- fection," The apartment at Malmaisoa which Napo- Icon had formerly occupied remained exactly Rs it was when ho last left it. /oseohine her- 310 Josephine. [A.D.1811. Generaus conduct of Josephine. Letter to her superintendent self kept the key, and dusted the room with her own hands. She would not permit a single article of furniture to be moved. The book he was last reading lay open upon the table, the map he was consulting, the pen with which he wrote, the articles of clothing which he had left in his accustomed disorder, all remained un- touched. Josephine's bed-chamber was very simply furnished with white muslin drapery, the only ornament being the golden toilet serv- ice which she had received from the municipal- ity of Paris, and which, with characteristic generosity, she refused to consider as her own private property until Napoleon sent it to her. The following letter from Josephine, written at this time, pleasingly illustrates her literary pol- ish and the refinement of her taste. It was addressed to the superintendent, ordering some alterations at Malmaison. " Profit by my absence, dear F., and make haste to dismantel the pavilion of the acacias, and to transfer my boudoir into that of the or- angery. I should wish the first apartment of the suite, and which serves for an ante-room, to be painted with light green, with a border of lilachs. In the center of the panels you will place my fine engravings from Esther, and un« A.D. 1811.] Divorce and last Days. 311 Refined tast* of Josephine. dor each of these a portrait of the distinguished generals of the Revolution. In the center of the apartment there must be a large flower- stand, constantly filled with fresh flowers in their season, and in each angle a bust of a French philosopher. I particularly mention that of Rousseau, which place between the two win- dows, so that tlic vines and foliage may play around his head. This will be a natural crown worthy of the author of Emile. As to my pri- vate cabinet, let it be colored light blue, with a border of ranunculus and polyanthus. Ten large engravings from the Gallery of the Mu- sce, and twenty medallions, will fill up the pan- els. Let the casements be painted white and green, with double fillets, gilded. My piano, a green sofa, and two couches with correspond- ing covers, a secretaire, a small bureau, and a large toilet-g-.ass, are articles you will not forget. In the center, place a large table, always cov- ered with freshly-gathered flowers, and upon the mantel-shelf a simple pendule, two alabaster vases, and double-branched girandoles. Unite slegance to variety, but no profusion. Nothing is more opposed to good taste. In short, I con- fide to you the care of rendering this cherished ppot an agreeable retreat, whore I may mcdi- 312 Josephine. [A.D. 1813. Continued grief of Josephine. Palace of Navarro, tate, sleep it may be, but oftenest read, which last is sufficient to remind you of three hund- red volumes of my small edition." When Josephine first retired to Malmaison, where every thing reminded her of the emper- or, her grief for many months continued una- bated. To divert her attention, Napoleon con- ferred upon her the palace of Navarre. This was formerly a royal residence, and was re- nowned for its magnificent park. During the Revolution it had become much dilapidated. The elegant chateau was situated in the midst of the romantic forest of Evreux. The spacious grounds were embellished by parks, whose ven- erable trees had withstood the storms of centu- ries, and by beautiful streams and crystal lakes The emperor gave Josephine nearly three hund- red thousand dollars to repair the buildings and the grounds. Tiie taste of Josephine soon con- verted the scene into almost a terrestrial Eden, and Navarre, being far more retired than Mal- maison, became her favorite residence. Soon after Josephine had taken up her resi- dence at Navarre, she wrote the following lettei to Napoleon, which pleasingly illustrates tho cordiality of friendship which still existed be- tween them : A.D.1813.] Divorce and last Days. 313 Letter to Nnpolcon. Josephine dcoires rcposa " SiRR, — I received this morning the welcome note which was written on the eve of your de- parture for St. Cloud, and hasten to reply to ita tender and affectionate contents. These, in- deed, do not in themselves surprise me, but only as being received so early as fifteen days after my establishment here, so perfectly assured was I that your attachment would search out tho means of consoling me under a separation ne- cessary to the tranquillity of both. The thoughf that your care follows me into my retreat ren ders it almost agreeable. "After having known all the rapture of a love that is shared, and all the suffering of a love that is shared no longer — after having ex hausted all the pleasures that supreme power can confer, and all the happiness of beholding the man whom I loved enthusiastically admired, is there aught else, save repose, to be desired : What illusions can now remain for me ? All such vanished when it became necessary to re- nounce you. Thus the only ties which yet bind me to life are my sentiments for you, at- tachment for my children, the possibility of stiL being able to do some good, and, above all, the assurance that you are happy. Do not, then, condole with me on my being hero, dis- 314 JosEi-HiNE. [A.D. 1813 Occupations of Josepliine at Navarre. M. Bourlieif tant from a court, which you appear to think I regret. Surrounded by those who are attached to me, free to follow my taste for the arts, 1 find myself better at Navarre than any where else, for I enjoy more completely the society of the former, and form a thousand projects which may prove useful to the latter, and which will embellish the scenes I owe to your bounty. There is much to be done here, for all around arc discovered the traces of destruction. These I would efface, that there may exist no memo- rial of those horrible inflictions which your ge- nius has taught the nation almost to forget. In repairing whatever these ruffians of revolu- tion labored to annihilate, I shall diffuse com- fort around me, and the benedictions of the poor will afford me infinitely more pleasure than the feigned adulation of courtiers. " I have already told you what I think of the functionaries in this department, but have not spoken sufficiently of the respectable bishop, M. Bourlier. Every day I learn some new trait which causes me still more highly to es- teem the man w'^o unites the most enlightened benevolence with the most amiable disposition He shall be intrusted with distributing my alms- ic' 'e in Evrcux, and, as he visits the indigent AD.18J3.J Divorce ajsd last Days. 315 Character of Josephine's household. himself, I sliall be assured that my charities are properly bestowed. " I can not sufficiently thank you, sire, for the liberty you have permitted me of choosing tlie members of my household, all of whom con- tribute to the pleasure of a delightful society. One circumstance alone gives me pain, name- ly, the etiquette of costume, which becomes a little tiresome in the country. You fear that there may be something wanting to the rank I have preserved should a slight infraction be al- lowed to the toilet of these gentlemen ; but I believe that you are wrong in thinking they would for one moment forget the respect due to the woman who was once your companion. Their respect for yourself, joined to the sincero attachment they bear to me, which I can not doubt, secures me from the danger of ever be- ing obliged to recall what it is your wish that they should remember. My most honorable title is derived, not from having been crowned, but assuredly from having been chosen by you. None other is of value. That alone suffices for my immortality. " My circle is at this time somewhat more numerous than usual, there being several visit- irs, besides many of the inhabitants of Evreus 316 Josephine. [A.D. 1813 Conveisation between Napoleon and Josephine and the environs, whom I see of course. I am pleased with their manners, with their admira- *.iOn of you, a particular in which you know t'jat I am not easily satisfied. In short, I find r lysclf 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 wliich 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 aj)parcntly endeavoring to dissuade him from the perilous enterprise. His perfect confidence, however, seemed to as- A.D.1813.] Divorce and last Days. 317 Tbeir last interview. Napoleon continues his correspondencft. Bure her that her apprehensions were groundless At last he arose and kissed iier 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- ing than over. Adversity had softened his heart 318 Josephine. [A.D. 1813 Days of disaster. Approach of the allied armies In these dark days, when, with most Herculean power, he was struggHng 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 cr 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 Joeephinc. Accident Josephine at Nnvnrre 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 .«;olitary 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 tr protect Josephine from all intrusion. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers were swarming in all di. rections, and every dwelling was filled with ter» 320 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 A. melaDcholj" 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 tako 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- andcr was greatly distressed at her fate, and made the utmost, though unavailing efforts tliinc, 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 hd 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 oflspring, her friends, and her cotcmporaries." For four days her body remained shrouded 328 Josephine. [A.D. 1814 Funeral ceremonies. Monumental inicription, in state for its burial. During this time more than twenty thousand of the people of Franco visited her beloved remains. On the 2d of Juno, at mid-day, the funeral procession moved from Malmaison to Ruel, where the body waa 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 Ilortcnse, 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-])lacc, with this simple but affecting inscription : EUGENE AND HORTENSE TO JOSEPHINE. TSrS KKii, DATE DUE CAVLORO 7^ DC216.1 A14 Abbott, John Stevens Cabot, 1805-13 7/. History of Josephine, 3 12 00347 1263