rma 
 il
 
 JOSEPHINE.
 
 /IDafeers of Tbistor^ 
 
 Josephine 
 
 BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT 
 
 WITH ENGRAVINGS 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 1904
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
 eight hundred and fifty-one, by 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
 of New York. 
 
 Copyright, 1879, by SUSAN ABBOTT MEAD.
 
 MAKIA ANTOINETTE, Madame Roland, and 
 Josephine are the three most prominent hero- 
 ines of the French Revolution. The history 
 of their lives necessarily records all the most 
 interesting events of that most fearful tragedy 
 which man has ever enacted. Maria Antoi- 
 nette beheld the morning dawn of the Revo- 
 lution; its lurid mid -day sun glared upon 
 Madame Roland; and Josephine beheld the 
 portentous phenomenon fade away. Bach of 
 these heroines displayed traits of character 
 worthy of all imitation. No one can read 
 the history of their lives without being enno- 
 bled by the contemplation of the fortitude 
 and grandeur of spirit they evinced. To 
 the young ladies of our land we especially 
 commend the Heroines of the French Rev- 
 olution.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Pag* 
 
 I. LIFE IN MARTINIQUE.. 13 
 
 II. MARRIAGE OP JOSEPHINE 31 
 
 III. ARREST OP M. BEAUHARNAIS AND JOSEPHINE-. 48 
 
 IV. SCENES IN PRISON 68 
 
 V. THE RELEASE FROM PRISON 81 
 
 VI. JOSEPHINE IN ITALY 105 
 
 VII. JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON 130 
 
 VIII. JOSEPHINE THE WIPE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 149 
 
 IX. DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER 171 
 
 X. THE CORONATION 198 
 
 XI. JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS 232 
 
 XII. THE DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS.. . 282
 
 ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 Page 
 
 THE SIBYL 24 
 
 THE WARNING 58 
 
 THE PANTOMIME 85 
 
 ISOLA BELLA 109 
 
 THE INTERVIEW 156 
 
 THE CORONATION.. . 224
 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 LlFK IV MARTINIQUE. 
 
 Its Tiria* temtlM 
 
 FlIHE island of Martinique emerges in tropi- 
 -- oal luxuriance from the bosom of the Ca- 
 ribbean Sea. A meridian sun causes the whole 
 land to smile in perennial verdure, and all the 
 gorgeous flowers and luscious fruits of the torrid 
 zone adorn upland and prairie in boundless pro- 
 fusion. Mountains, densely wooded, rear their 
 summits sublimely to the skies, and valleys 
 charm the eye with pictures more beautiful 
 than imagination can create. Ocean breezes 
 ever sweep these hills and vales, and temper the 
 heat of a vertical sun. Slaves, whose dusky 
 limbs are scarcely veiled by the lightest cloth- 
 ing, till the soil, while the white inhabitants, 
 supported by the indolent labor of these unpaid 
 menials, loiter away life in listless leisure and 
 In rustic luxury. Far removed from the dissi-
 
 14 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1760 
 
 Birth of JoMpUae. Her parent*' doUh 
 
 pating influencos 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 officer, 
 Captain Joseph Gaspard Tascher, accompanied 
 his regiment of horse to this island. While 
 here on professional duty, he became attached 
 to a young lady from France, whose parents, 
 formerly opulent, in consequence of the loss of 
 property, had moved to the West Indies to re- 
 trieve their fortunes. But little is known re- 
 specting Mademoiselle de Sanois, this young 
 lady, who was soon married to M. Tasoher. 
 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 now, 
 with maternal affection, took charge of the help- 
 1668 infant, was a lady of wealth, and of great 
 benevolence of character. Her husband was 
 the owner of several estates, and lived surround- 
 ed by all that plain and rustic profusion which 
 characterizes the abode of the wealthy planter 
 His large possessions, and his energy of ohar&o-
 
 A 1). 1765.] LIFE IN MARTINIQUE. 1C 
 
 M. Renaudio. His kind treatment of kU tlT* 
 
 ter, gave him a wide influence over the island. 
 He was remarkable for his humane treatment 
 of his slaves, and for the successful manner witl 
 which he conducted the affairs of his plantations 
 The general condition of the slaves of Martin 
 ioo at this time was very deplorable ; but or. 
 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- 
 eently torn from their homes in Africa, were 
 necessarily ignorant, degraded, and supersti- 
 tious. They knew nothing of those more ele- 
 vated and refined enjoyments which the culti- 
 vated mind so highly appreciates, but which are 
 so often also connected with the most exquisite 
 suffering. Josephine, in subsequent life, gave 
 a very vivid description of the wretchedness of 
 the slaves in general, and also of the peace and 
 harmony which, in striking contrast, cheered 
 the estates of her uncle. When the days' tasks 
 were done, the negroes, constitutionally light- 
 hearted and merry, gathered around their cab- 
 bis with songs and dances, often prolonged late 
 into the hours of the night. They had never 
 known any thing better than their present lot 
 They compared their condition with that of the
 
 16 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1763 
 
 Gratitude of the ilarac. JMpll1ini nlTenl f iTorlt* 
 
 slaves on the adjoining plantations, and exnlted 
 in view of their own enjoyments. M. and Mad- 
 ame Renaudin often visited their oabins, spoke 
 words of kindness to them in then 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 ti* 
 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 
 f ports. 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 love 
 of all who met her, while, at the same time, sh*> 
 was protected from any undue familiarity, she 
 seems to have possessed even at that early day 
 The children, who were her companions in aU
 
 A. D. 1765.] LlFEINMARTINiqtE. 17 
 
 Hospitality of M. Renaudln. Society at his bouw 
 
 the sports of childhood, were also dutiful subjects 
 over ready to be obedient to her will. 
 
 The social position of M. Rjnaudin, as DIM 
 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 Renau- 
 din had passed her early years in Paris, and her 
 manners were embellished with that elegance 
 and refinement which have given to Parisian 
 society such a world-wide celebrity. There 
 was, at that period, much more intercourse be- 
 tween the mother country and the colonies than 
 at the present day. Thus Josephine, though 
 reared in a provincial home, was accustomed, 
 from infancy, to associate with gentlemen and 
 ladies who were familiar with the etiquette of 
 the highest rank in society, and whose conver- 
 sation was intellectual and improving. 
 
 It at first view seems difficult to account foi 
 the high degree of mental culture which Jo- 
 sephine displayed, when, seated by the side of 
 Napoleon, she was t l 'e Empress of Frano? 
 192
 
 18 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1765 
 
 bity education of Josephine. Her icoomplUhnienU 
 
 Her remarks, her letters, her conversational ele- 
 ganoe, 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 
 eem 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 melodj . 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 
 joyonsness, that her cheerful spirit seldom failed 
 her even in the darkest days of her calamity. 
 Hei passionate love for flowers had interested 
 her deeply in the study of botany, and she also 
 became very skillful in embroidery, that aocom
 
 A.D 1765.] LIFE IN MARTINIQUE. 19 
 
 Ccphemle Sbe beoomM JovepUne'i btwont eompcakm 
 
 plishment which was onoe deemed an essentia 
 part of the education of every lady. 
 
 Under such influences Josephine became * 
 child of such grace, beauty, and loveliness of 
 oharaoter as to attract the attention and the 
 admiration of all who saw her. There was an 
 affectionateness, 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 
 oame 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 
 joung 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, LB 
 perfect harmony From Josephine's more high
 
 20 JOSEPHINE. (A.D. 177(1 
 
 Popularity of Josephine. Childhood enjoynienW 
 
 iy-cultivated mind the lowly-born child derived 
 intellectual stimulus, and thus each day became 
 a more worthy and congenial associate. At 
 years passed on, and Josephine ascended inte 
 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 &\\ 
 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 
 partner. She loved to assemble them around 
 her, and listen to those simple negro melodies 
 which penetrate every heart which can feel the 
 power of music. Again, all their voices, in sweet 
 harmony, blended with hers as she taught them 
 the more scientific songs of Europe. She would 
 listen with unaffected interest to their tales of 
 sorrow, and weep with them. Often she inter- 
 posed in their behalf that their tasks might be 
 lightened, or that a play-day might be allowed 
 tnera. Thus she was as much beloved and an-
 
 A.D. 1770.) LIFE JN MAR nw/QUK. 2i 
 
 Characteristic traits. The fortune-tellet 
 
 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- 
 reer. Josephine upon the plantation and Jo- 
 sephine upon the throne Josephine surrounded 
 by the sable maidens of Martinique, and Jo- 
 sephine moving in queenly splendor in the pal- 
 aces of Versailles, with all the courtiers of Eu- 
 rope revolving around her, displayed the same 
 traits of character, and by her unaffected kind- 
 ness won the heart ^dke 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 negress, 
 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 sibyi, with the cunning 
 which is characteristic of her craft, as soon as 
 she saw Josephine approach, whom she knew 
 perfectly, assumed an air of great agitation, 
 and, seizing her hand violently, gazed with most
 
 22 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1772 
 
 Prediction* ot the IbyL Credulity 
 
 earnest attention upon the lines traced upon the 
 palm. The little negresses were perfectly aw. 
 stricken by this oraonlar 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 lott* 
 Josephine inquired. 
 
 The negress again gazed upon her hand, and 
 then replied, "Misfortune;" but, after a mo- 
 ment's pause, she added, " and happiness too." 
 
 "You must be careful, my good woman,' 
 Josephine rejoined, "not to commit yourself 
 Your predictions are not very intelligible." 
 
 The negress, raising her eyes with an expres- 
 sion of deep mystery to heaven, rejoined, "I 
 am not permitted to render my revelations more 
 clear." 
 
 In every human heart there is a vein of cre- 
 dulity. The pretended prophetess had now suo 
 eeeded in fairly arousing the curiosity of Jose- 
 phine, who eagerly inquired, "What do you 
 read respecting me in futurity? Tell me ex- 
 actly." 
 
 Again the negress. assuming an air of pro*
 
 A..D 1772.] LIFE IN MARTINIQUE. 25 
 
 More prediction*. 
 
 found solemnity, said, " You will not believe 
 me if I reveal to you your strange destiny." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I assure you that I will," Jo- 
 sephine thoughtlessly replied. " Come, good 
 mother, do tell me what I have to hope and 
 what to fear." 
 
 "On your own head be it, then. Listen. 
 You will soon be married. That union will not 
 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 affair passed from 
 her mind. In subsequent years, when toiling 
 through the vicissitudes of her most eventful 
 life, she recalled the singular coincidence be- 
 tween her destiny and the prediction, and 
 seemed to consider that the negress, with pro- 
 phetic vision, had traced out her wonderful ca- 
 reer. 
 
 But what is there so extraordinary in this 
 narrative 7 What maiden ever consulted a 
 fortune-teller without receiving the agreeable 
 unnounoement that she was to wed beauty, and
 
 26 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1772 
 
 Explanation* t the prediction*. How fulfilled 
 
 wealth, and rank 7 It was known universally , 
 and it was a constant subject of plantation go& 
 ip, that the guardians of Josephine were con 
 templating a match for her with the son of 
 neighboring planter. The negroes did not think 
 him half worthy of their adored and queenly Jo- 
 sephine. They supposed, however, that the 
 match was settled. The artful woman was 
 therefore compelled to allow Josephine to marry 
 at first the undistinguished son of the planter, 
 with whom she 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 te 
 bo utterly untrue. Josephine, instead of dying 
 in a hospital, died in the beautiful pal ace of Mal- 
 inaison. Instead of dying in poverty, she was 
 one of the richest ladies in Europe, receiving 
 an income of some six hundred thousand dollars 
 a year The grounds around her palace were
 
 AD. 1772.] LIFE IN MARTIMIQUB. 2? 
 
 Ftldty of the prediction. Contemplated mtcb 
 
 embellished with all the attractions, and hei 
 apartments furnished with every luxury which 
 opulence could provide. Instead of dying in 
 firiendlesaness and neglect, the Emperor Alex- 
 ander of Russia stood at her bedside ; the most 
 illustrious kings and nobles of Europe crowded 
 her court and did her homage. And though 
 she was separated from her husband, she still 
 retained the title of Empress, and was the ob- 
 ject of his most sincere affection and esteem. 
 
 Thus this prediction, upon which so much 
 stress has been laid, seems to vanish in the air 
 It surely is not a supernatural event that a 
 young lady, who was told by an aged negress 
 that she would be a queen, happened actually 
 to become one. 
 
 We have alluded to a contemplated match 
 between Josephine and the son of a neighbor- 
 ing planter. An English family, who had lost 
 property and rank in the convulsions of those 
 times, had sought a retreat in the island of Mar- 
 tinique, and were cultivating an adjoining plan- 
 tation. In this family there was a very pleas- 
 ant lad, a son, of nearly the same age with Jo- 
 sephine. The plantations being new to each 
 other, they were often companions and play- 
 mates. A strong attachment grew up between
 
 JOSEPHINE, [A.D. 1775 
 
 Attachment between Jogephini and WUUam. Tfcolr ieparaUon 
 
 them. The parents of William, and the unol 
 and aunt of Josephine, approved cordially of this 
 attachment; and were desirous that these youth- 
 Sal hearts should be united, as soon as the parties 
 should arrive at mature age. Josephine, in the 
 ingenuous artlessness of her nature, disguised 
 not in the least her strong affection for William. 
 And his attachment to her was deep and endur- 
 ing. The solitude of their lives peculiarly tend- 
 ed to promote fervor of character. 
 
 Matters were in this state, when the father of 
 William received an intimation from England 
 that, by returning to his own country, he might, 
 perhaps, regain his lost estates. He immedi- 
 ately prepared to leave the island with his fam- 
 ily. The separation was a severe blow to these 
 youthful lovers. They wept, and vowed eternal 
 fidelity. 
 
 It is not surprising that Josephine should 
 have been in some degree superstitious. The 
 peculiarity of her life upon the plantation her 
 constant converse with the negroes, whose minda 
 were imbued with all the superstitious notions 
 which they had brought from Africa, united 
 with those which they had found upon the isl- 
 and, tended to foster those feelings. Rousseau, 
 the most popular and universally-read French
 
 A.D. 1774.J LIFE IN MARTINIQUE 29 
 
 RoMeau throwing itone*. Josephioe'i inperstitloa 
 
 writer of that day, in his celebrated "Confes- 
 sions," records with perfect composure that h 
 was one day sitting in a grove, meditating 
 whether his soul would probably be saved 01 
 lost. He felt that the question was of the ut- 
 most importance. How could he escape from 
 the uncertainty ! A supernatural voice seemed 
 to suggest an appeal to a singular kind of au- 
 gury. " I will," said he, " throw this stone at 
 that tree. If I hit the tree, it shall be a sign 
 that my soul is to be saved. If I miss it, it 
 shall indicate that I am to be lost." He select- 
 ed a large tree, took the precaution of getting 
 very near to it, and threw his stone plump 
 against the trunk. " After that," says the 
 philosopher, "I never again had a doubt re- 
 specting my salvation." 
 
 Josephine resorted to the same kind of au- 
 gury to ascertain if William, who had become 
 a student in the University at Oxford, still re- 
 mained faithful to her. She not unfr6quently 
 attempted to beguile a weary hour in throwing 
 pebbles at tne 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
 
 80 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1775 
 
 Deception of friend*. Mutual fidelity 
 
 Her feelings were the more deeply wounded, 
 since there were other friends upon the island 
 with whom he kept up a correspondence ; but 
 Josephine never received even a message through 
 them. 
 
 One day, as she was pensively rambling hi a 
 rove, where she had often walked with her ab- 
 **ent 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 !" 
 
 William, however, had not forgotten her. 
 \gain and again he had written in terms of 
 the most ardent affection. But the friends of 
 Josephine, meeting with an opportunity for 
 natch for her which they deemed far more ad < 
 vantageons, had destroyed these communica 
 tions, and also had prevented any of her letters 
 from reaching the hand of William. Thus each , 
 while cherishing the truest affection, deemed the 
 other faithless.
 
 A.D. 1775.J MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 31 
 
 AleuBder de Re*uh*nutU. illt dkaraotw 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE MARRIAGE OP JOSEPHINE. 
 
 |"OSEPHINE was about fourteen years of 
 ** age when she was separated from William 
 A year passed away, during which she received 
 not a line from her absent friend. About this 
 time a gentleman from France visited her uncle 
 upon business of great importance. Viscount 
 Alexander de Beauharnais was a fashionable 
 and gallant young man, about thirty years of 
 age, possessing much conversational ease and 
 grace of manner, and accustomed to the most 
 polished society of the French metropolis. He 
 held a commission in the army, and had already 
 signalized himself by several acts of bravery. 
 His sympathies had been strongly aroused by 
 the struggle of the American colonists with the 
 mother country, and he had already aided th 
 colonists both with his sword and his purse. 
 
 Several large and valuable estates in Mar- 
 tinique, adjoining the plantation of M. Renau- 
 iin, had fallen by inheritance to this young offi- 
 cer and his brother, the Marqui of Beauhar-
 
 32 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 17V6 
 
 A new roitor. Motive* for the raarrim^e 
 
 nais. He visited Martinique to secure the proof 
 of his title to these estates. M. Renaudin held 
 some of these plantations on lease. In the 
 transaction of this business, Beauharnais spent 
 much time at the mansion of M. Renaudin. 
 He, of course, saw much of the beautiful Jo- 
 sephine, and was fascinated with her grace, and 
 ner mental and physical loveliness. 
 
 The uncle and aunt of Josephine were delight- 
 ed to perceive the interest which their niece had 
 awakened in the bosom of the interesting stran- 
 ger. His graceful figure, his accomplished per- 
 son, his military celebrity, his social rank, and 
 his large fortune, all conspired to dazzle their 
 eyes, and to lead them to do every thing in then- 
 power to promote a match apparently so eligi- 
 ble. The ambition of M. Renaudin was moved 
 at the thought of conferring upon his niece, the 
 prospective heiress of his own fortune, an estate 
 so magnificent as the united inheritance. Jose- 
 phine, however, had not yet forgotten William, 
 and, though interested in her uncle's guest, for 
 ome time allowed no emotion of love to flow out 
 toward him. 
 
 One morning Josephine was sitting in the 
 library in pensive musings, when her uncle came 
 Into the room to open to her the subject of her
 
 A.D.J775.] MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE 3j 
 
 Hie announcement Feelings of Josephine 
 
 contemplated marriage with M. Beauharnais. 
 Josephine was thunderstruck at the communi- 
 cation, for, according to the invariable custom 
 of the times, she knew that she aould 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, ^rith tears in her eyes, 
 
 " Dear uncle, I implore you to remember that 
 my affections are fixed upon William. I have 
 been solemnly promised to him." 
 
 " That is utterly impossible, my child," her 
 uncle replied. "Circumstances are changed. 
 All our hopes are centered in you. You must 
 obey our wishes." 
 
 "And why," said she, "have you changed 
 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 foigotten 
 you." 
 
 To this last remark Josephine could make 
 
 no reply. She looked sadly upon the floor and 
 
 was silent. It is said that her uncle had then 
 
 li his possession several letters which William 
 
 193
 
 34 JOSEPHINE. [A.D 1775 
 
 Zeal of M. Rrauharuais. The engagement 
 
 had written her, replete with the most earnest 
 spirit of constancy and affection. 
 
 Josephine, but fifteen years of age, could not, 
 Binder these circumstances, resist the influences 
 BOW brought tc bear upon her. M. Beauhar- 
 tais 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 repos 
 upon her betrothed. Though her Heart still 
 clung to William, she thought that he had found 
 other friends in England, in whose pleasant com- 
 panionship he had lost all remembrance of the 
 island maiden who had won his early love. 
 Alexander Beauharnais, soon after his en-
 
 AJD. 1775.] MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 35 
 
 Departure from Martinique. Parting scene* 
 
 gagement to Josephine, embarked for Franca 
 Arrangements had been made for Josephine, in 
 the course of a few months, to follow him, upon 
 a visit to a relative in Paris, and there the nup- 
 tials were to be consummated. Josephine was 
 now fifteen years of age. She was attached 
 to Beauharnais, but not with that fervor of feel- 
 ing which had previously agitated her heart. 
 She often thought of William and spoke of him, 
 and at times had misgivings lest there might 
 be some explanation of his silence. But months 
 had passed on, and she had received no letter or 
 message from him- 
 
 At length the hour for her departure from the 
 island arrived. With tearful eyes and a sad- 
 dened heart she left the land of her birth, ana 
 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 regret*
 
 56 JOSEPHINE. jA.D. 1775 
 
 rwephlne'i arrival In France. Her Interview with WllUanv 
 
 Little, however, could she imagine the career 
 of strange vicissitudes upon which she was 
 about to enter. 
 
 The voyage was long and tempestuous. 
 Ktorms 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 Fontainebleau, and was there 
 met by Alexander Beauharnais. He received 
 her with great fondness, and was assiduous in 
 bestowing upon her the most flattering atten 
 tions. But Josephine had hardly arrived at Fon- 
 tainebleau before she heard that William and 
 his father were also residing at that place. Her 
 whole frame trembled like an aspen leaf, and 
 her heart sunk within her as she received the 
 intelligence. All her long-cherished affection 
 for the companion of her childhood was revived , 
 and still she knew not but that William was 
 faithless. He, however, immediately called, 
 with his father, to see her. The interview was 
 most embarrassing, for each loved the other in* 
 tensely, and each had reason to belie\e that th
 
 AJD. 1775.] MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 37 
 
 Explanation of William. Distress of Josephine, 
 
 other had proved untrue. The next day Will- 
 iam called alone ; Josephine, the betrothed bride 
 of Beauharnais, prudently deolined seeing him. 
 He then wrote her a letter, which he bribed a 
 servant to place in her hands, full of protest* 
 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 
 English heiress, and that the fortunes of his 
 lather's family were dependent upon that alii- 
 mnoe. The servant who had been the bearer 
 of William's epistle was dismissed, and the 
 other servants were commanded not to allo^ 
 him to enter the house. 
 
 The agitation of Josephine's heart was suoh 
 that for some time she was unable to leave he?
 
 8b JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 177& 
 
 Jujwtphine retires to convent She marries the Viscount BeauhamaU 
 
 bed. She entreated her friends to allow her for 
 a few months to retire to a convent, that she 
 might, in solitary thought and prayer, regain 
 composure. Her friends consented to this ar- 
 rangement, and she took refuge in the convent 
 at Panthemont. Here she spent a few months 
 in inexpressible gloom. William made many 
 unavailing efforts to obtain an interview, and 
 at last, in despair, reluctantly received the 
 wealthy bride, through whom he secured an 
 immense inheritance, and with whom he passed 
 an unloving life. 
 
 The Viscount Beauharnais often called to see 
 her, and was permitted to converse with her at 
 the gate of her window. In the simplicity of 
 her heart, she told her friends at the convent 
 of her attachment for William ; how they had 
 been reared together, and how they had loved 
 from childhood. She felt that it was a cruel 
 fate which separated them, but a fate before 
 which each must inevitably bow. At last she 
 calmly made up her mind to comply 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 oassionately, at- 
 tached to bin
 
 O). 1777.] MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 39 
 
 PtehioEable life. Josephine U introduced at court 
 
 Josephine was sixteen years of age when she 
 was married. Her social position was in the 
 midst of the most expensive and fashionable so- 
 ciety of Paris. She was immediately involved 
 in all the excitements of parties, and balls, 
 and gorgeous entertainments. Her beauty, her 
 grace, her amiability, and her peculiarly musi- 
 cal voice, which fell like a charm upon every ear, 
 excited great admiration and not a little nvy. 
 It was a dangerous scene into which to intro- 
 duce the artless and inexperienced Creole girl, 
 and she was not a little dazzled by the splen- 
 dor with which she was surrounded. Every 
 thing that could minister to convenience, or 
 that could gratify taste, was lavished profusely 
 around her. For a time she was bewildered by 
 the novelty of her situation. But soon she be- 
 came weary of the heartless pageantry of fash- 
 ionable Me, and sighed for the tranquil enjoy- 
 ments of her island home. 
 
 Her husband, proud of her beauty and ac- 
 complishments, introduced her at court. Maria 
 Antoinette, who had then just ascended the 
 throne, and was in the brilliance of her youth, 
 and beauty, and early popularity, was charmed 
 with the West Indian bride, and received her 
 without the formality of a public presentation
 
 40 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 177J3 
 
 Maria Antoinette and Josephine. French philosophy 
 
 When these two young brides met in the regal 
 palace of Versailles the one a daughter of Ma* 
 ria Theresa and a descendant of the Csesars, 
 who had come from the court of Austria tc be 
 not only the queen, but the brightest ornament 
 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- 
 mined 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, aud artful woman 
 taking her place, and openly and triumphantly 
 claiming the attentions and tho affections of hef
 
 A..D. 1780.) MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE 41 
 
 Birth of B daughter. Infidelity of Beauharnaif 
 
 husband. This woman, high in rank, loved tx 
 torture her poor victim. " Your dear Alexan- 
 der," she said to Josephine, " daily lavishes upon 
 others the tribute of attachment which you think 
 he reserves solely for you." She could not bear 
 to see the beautiful and virtuous Josephine 
 nappy, as the honored wife of her guilty lover, 
 and she resolved, if possible, to sow the seeds 
 of jealousy so effectually between them as to 
 secure a separation. 
 
 In the year 1780 Josephine gave birth to fiei 
 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 on'/ comfort Her husband lav- 
 ished upon her those luxuries which his wealth 
 enabled him to grant. He was kind to her in
 
 42 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1780 
 
 Birth of ton. An arch deceWet 
 
 words and in all the ordinary courtesies of in- 
 tercourse. But Josephine's heart was well-nigh 
 broken. A few years of conflict passed slowly 
 away, when she gave birth, in the year 1783, 
 to her son Eugene. In the society of her chil- 
 dren the unhappy mother found now her only 
 solace. 
 
 While the Viscount Beauharnais was ready 
 iff defend his own conduct, he was by no means 
 willing that his wife should govern herself by 
 the same principles of fashionable philosophy. 
 The code infidel is got up for the especial ben- 
 efit of dissolute men ; their wives must be gov- 
 erned by another code. The artful woman, 
 who was the prime agent in these difficulties, 
 affected great sympathy with Josephine in her 
 sorrows, protested her own entire innocence, 
 but assured her that M. Beauharnais was an in. 
 ^rate, entirely unworthy of her affections. She 
 deceived Josephine, hoarded up the confidence 
 of her stricken heart, and conversed with her 
 about William, the memory of whose faithful 
 love now came with new freshness to the dis- 
 consolate wife. 
 
 Josephine, lured by her, wrote a letter to her 
 frienis in Martinique, in which she imprudently 
 , "Were it not for my children, I should
 
 A..D. 1783.]' MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 42 
 
 Josephine betrayed. Application for a divorce 
 
 without a pang, renounce France forever. My 
 duty requires me to forget William ; and yet 
 if we had been united together, I should not to- 
 day have been troubling you with my griefs." 
 The woman who instigated her to write this 
 letter was infamous enough to obtain it by 
 stealth and show it to Beauharnais. His jeal- 
 ousy and indignation were immediately aroused 
 to the highest pitch. He was led by this ma- 
 licious deceiver to believe that Josephine had 
 obtained secret interviews with William, and 
 the notoriously unfaithful husband was exas- 
 perated to the highest degree at the very sus- 
 picion of the 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 he* 
 children, not to proclaim their difficulties to the 
 world. He, however, reckless of consequences, 
 made application to the courts for the annul- 
 ment of the matrimonial bond. Josephine was 
 now compelled to defend her own character. 
 She again retired with Hortense to the convent, 
 and there, through dreary months d solitude, 
 and silence, and dejection, awaited the result of 
 the trial noon which her reputation as a vir
 
 44 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1784 
 
 Josephine triumphant. Visit to Venaille* 
 
 tuous woman was staked. The decree of the 
 court was triumphantly in her favor, and Jo- 
 sephine returned to her friends to receive theii 
 congratulations, but impressed with the oonrio* 
 tion that earth had no longer a joy in store foi 
 her. Her friends did all in their power to cheer 
 her desponding spirit ; but the wound she had 
 received was too deep to be speedily healed. 
 One day her friends, to divert her mind from 
 brooding over irreparable sorrows, took her, al- 
 most by violence, to Versailles. They passed 
 over the enchanting grounds, and through the 
 gorgeously-furnished apartments of the Great 
 and Little Trianon, the favorite haunts of Ma- 
 ria Antoinette. Here the beautiful Queen of 
 France was accustomed to lay aside the pa- 
 geantry of royalty, and to enjoy, without re- 
 straint, the society of those who were dear to 
 her, Days of darkness and trouble had already 
 begun to darken around her path. As Jose- 
 phine was looking at some of the works of art, 
 she was greatly surprised at the entrance of the 
 queen, surrounded by several ladies of her court. 
 Maria Antoinette immediately recognized Jo- 
 sephine, and with that air of affability and kind- 
 ness which ever characterized her conduct, she 
 approached her, and, with one of her winning
 
 A.D. 1784.] MARXIAGE OK JOSEPHINE 45 
 
 Interview with Maria Antoinette. Kindness of the queen 
 
 smiles, said, " Madame Beauharnais, I am very 
 happy to see you at the two Trianons. You 
 well know how to appreciate their beauties. I 
 should be much pleased to learn what objects 
 you consider most interesting. I shall always 
 receive you with pleasure." 
 
 These words from the queen were an un- 
 speakable solace to Josephine. Her afflicted 
 heart needed the consolation. The queen was 
 acquainted with her trials, and thus nobly as- 
 sured her of her sympathy and her confidence. 
 In a few days Maria Antoinette invited Jose- 
 phine to a private interview. She addressed 
 her in words of the utmost kindness, promised 
 to watch over the interests of her son, and at 
 the same time, as a mark of her especial regard, 
 she took from her neck an antique ornament of 
 precious stones, and passed it over the neck of 
 Josephine. The king also himself came in at 
 the interview, for his heart had been softened 
 by sorrow, and addressed words of consolation 
 to the injured and discarded wife. 
 
 Josephine now received letters from Marti- 
 nique earnestly entreating her to return, with 
 her children, to the home of her childhood. 
 World-weary, she immediately resolved to ac- 
 cept tha invitation. But the thought of erooa-
 
 46 JOSEPH NE. [A.D. 1784 
 
 /rxephlne embarki 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 
 hoarding-school. Josephine felt so deeply the 
 pang of separation from her beloved child, that 
 she obtained an interview with M. Beauharnais, 
 and implored him to allow her to take Eugene 
 with her. He gave a cold and positive refusal. 
 A few days after this, Josephine, cruelly sep- 
 arated from her husband and bereayed of her 
 son, embarked with Hor tense for Martinique. 
 She strove to maintain that aspect of cheerful- 
 ness and of dignity which an injured but inno- 
 cent woman is entitled to exhibit. When dark 
 hours of despondency overshadowed her, she 
 tried to console herself with the beautiful thought 
 of Plautus : " If we support adversity with cour- 
 age, we shall have a keener relish for returning 
 prosperity." It does not appear that she had 
 any refuge in the consolations of religion. She 
 had a vague and general idea of the goodness 
 of a superintending Providence, but she was 
 apparently a stranger to those warm and glow- 
 ing revelations of Christianity which introduce 
 us to a sympathizing Savior, a guiding and con- 
 soling Spirit, a loving and forgiving Father 
 Could she then, by faith, have reposed her ach-
 
 A.D. 1785.] MARRIAGE OF JOSEPHINE. 47 
 
 Josephine arrire* at Martinique. Her ktd reception. 
 
 ing head upon the bosom of her heavenly Fa- 
 ther, she might have found a solace such as 
 nothing else could confer. But at this time 
 nearly every mind in France was more or less 
 iarkened by the glooms of infidelity. 
 
 The winds soon "drove her frail bark across 
 the Atlantic, and Josephine, pale and sorrow- 
 stricken, was clasped in the arms and folded to 
 the hearts of those who truly loved her. The 
 affectionate negroes gathered around her, with 
 loud demonstrations of their sympathy and their 
 joy in again meeting their mistress. Here, 
 amid the quiet scenes endeared to her by the 
 recollections of childhood, she found a tempo- 
 rary respite from those storms by which she 
 had been so severely tossed upon life's wild and 
 tempestuous ocean
 
 48 JOSEPHINE. [A.D 17H6 
 
 S*divi of Josephine DUtipatiOn of Beauharnak 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 4.RRE6T OF M. BEAUHARNAIS AND Josi 
 
 PHINE. 
 
 TOSEPHINE remained in Martinique three 
 ** years. She passed her time in tranquil sad- 
 ness, engaged in reading, in educating Hortense, 
 and in unwearied acts of kindness to those around 
 her. Like all noble minds, she had a great fond- 
 ness for the beauties of nature. The luxuriant 
 groves of the tropics, the serene skies which 
 overarched her head, the gentle zep! yts which 
 breathed through orange groves, all were con- 
 genial with her pensive spirit. The thoughi 
 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 
 he loved so well, and wept over her alienated 
 husband and her lost child. 
 
 M. Beauharnais surrendered himself for a 
 time, without restraint, to every indulgence. 
 He tried, in the society of sin and shame, to 
 forget his wife and his absent daughter. He, 
 however, soon found that no friend can take the 
 plaoe of a virtuous and an affectionate wife
 
 A..D.1786] ARREST OF BEAUHARNA.S. 49 
 
 Repentance of BeauharnaU. Josephine return! to Franc* 
 
 The memory of Josephine's gentleness, and ten- 
 derness, and love came flooding back upon his 
 haart. He became fully convinced of his in- 
 justice to her, and earnestly desired to have 
 her restored again to him and to his home. He 
 sent communications to Josephine, expressive 
 of his deep regret for the past, promising amend- 
 ment for the future, assuring her of his high 
 appreciation of her elevated and honorable char 
 acter, and imploring her to return with Hor- 
 tens<s thus to reunite the divided and sorrow- 
 stricken household. It was indeed a gratifica- 
 tion to Josephine to receive from her husband 
 the acknowledgment that she had never ceased 
 to deserve his confidence. The thought of again 
 pressing Eugene to her bosom filled a mother's 
 heart with rapture. Still, the griefs which had 
 weighed upon her were so heavy, that she con- 
 fessed to her friends that, were it not for the 
 love which she bore Eugene, she would greatly 
 prefer to spend the remnant of her days npoi 
 her favorite island. Her friends did every thing 
 in their power to dissuade her from leaving 
 Martinique. But a mother's undying love tri- 
 umphed, and again she embarked for France. 
 In subsequent years, when surrounded by 
 all the splendors of royalty, she related to some 
 194
 
 60 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1786 
 
 Tba Jewel*. AMO&MB of the old show 
 
 of the ladies of her court, with that unaffected 
 simplicity which ever marked her character, 
 the following incident, which occurred during 
 this voyage. The ladies were admiring some 
 brilliant jewels which were spread out before 
 them. Josephine said to them, " My young 
 friends, believe me, splendor does not consti- 
 tute happiness. I at one time received greater 
 enjoyment from the gift of a pair of old shoes 
 than all these diamonds have ever afforded me." 
 The curiosity of her auditors was, of course, 
 greatly excited, and they entreated her to ex- 
 plain her meaning. 
 
 " Yes, young ladies," Josephine continued, 
 "of all the presents I ever received, the one 
 which gave me the greatest pleasure was a pair 
 of old shoes, and those, too, of coarse leather 
 When I last returned to France from Marti- 
 nique, having separated from my first husband 
 I was far from rich. The passage-money e: 
 hausted my resources, and it was not witho 
 difficulty that I obtained the indispensable re- 
 quisite? for our voyage. Hortense, obliging and 
 tivelj performing with much agility the dances 
 of the negroes, and singing their songs with 
 surprising correctness, greatly amused the sail- 
 ors, who, from being her constant play-fellows,
 
 A..D. 1786.1 ARREST OP BEAUHARNAIS 51 
 
 ffertence without tioe. The kind old tailor 
 
 had become her favorite society. An old sailot 
 became particularly attached to the child, and 
 she doted upon the old man. What with run- 
 ling, leaping, and walking, my daughter's slight 
 shoes were fairly worn out. Knowing that she 
 had not another pair, and fearing I would for- 
 bid her going upon deck, should this defect in 
 her attire be discovered, Hortense carefully con* 
 cealed the disaster. One day I experienced the 
 distress of seeing her return from the deck leav- 
 ing every foot-mark in blood. When examin- 
 ing how matters stood, I found her shoes lit- 
 erally in tatters, and her feet dreadfully torn by 
 a nail. We were as yet not more than half 
 way across the ocean, and it seemed impossible 
 to procure another pair of shoes. I felt quite 
 overcome at the idea of the sorrow my poor Hor- 
 tense would suffer, as also at the danger to which 
 her health might be exposed by confinement in 
 my miserable little cabin. At this moment our 
 good friend, the old sailor, entered and inquired 
 the cause of our distress. Hortense, sobbing 
 11 the while, eagerly informed him that she 
 oonld no more go upon deck, for her shoes were 
 worn out, and mamma had no others to give 
 her. ' Nonsense,' said the worthy seaman, ' ia 
 that all ? I have an old pair somewhere in mv
 
 62 JOSEPHINE. [A D. 1786 
 
 The fhoet made. Evantfol Ufa of HortekM. 
 
 chest ; I will go and seek them. You, madam 
 can out them to shape, and I will splice them 
 np as well as need be.' Without waiting for a 
 reply, away hastened the kind sailor in search 
 of his old shoes ; these he soon after brought to 
 us with a triumphant air, and they were re- 
 ceived by Hortense with demonstrations of the 
 most lively joy. We set to work with all zeal, 
 and before the day closed my daughter could 
 resume her delightful duties of supplying their 
 evening's diversion to the crew. I again repeat, 
 never was present received with greater thank- 
 fulness. It has since often been matter of self- 
 reproach that I did not particularly inquire into 
 the name and history of our benefactor. It 
 would have been gratifying for me to have done 
 something for him when afterward means were 
 in my power." 
 
 Poor Hortense ! most wonderful were the vi- 
 cissitudes of her checkered and joyless life. We 
 here meet her, almost an infant, in poverty and 
 obscurity. The mother and child arrive in Pai- 
 is on the morning of that Reign of Terror, the 
 story of which has made the ear of humanity 
 to tingle. Hortense is deprived of both her par- 
 ents, and is left in fri endlessness and beggary 
 in the streets of Paris. A charitable neigbboi
 
 A.D.1786.] ARREST OP BEAUHAR.NAIS. 53 
 
 Uarrtaje of Uorteoie Queen of Holland 
 
 cherished and fed her. Her mother is liberated, 
 and married to Napoleon ; and Hortense, as 
 daughter of the emperor, is surrounded with 
 iazzling splendor, such as earth has soldo* 1 " wit- 
 nessed. We now meet Hortense, rac it in 
 
 youthful beauty, one of the most admired and 
 courted in the midst of the glittering throng, 
 which, like a fairy vision, dazzles all eyes in 
 the gorgeous apartments of Versailles and St. 
 Cloud. Her person is adorned with the most 
 costly fabrics and the most brilliant gems which 
 Europe can afford. The nobles and >rinces of 
 the proudest courts vie with each other for the 
 honor of her hand. She is led to her sumptu- 
 ous bridals by Louis Bonaparte, brother of the 
 emperor ; becomes the spouse of a king, and 
 takes her seat upon the throne of Holland. But 
 in the midst of all this external splendor she is 
 wretched at heart. Not one congenial feeling 
 unites her with the companion to whom she is 
 bound. Louis, weary of regal pomp and con- 
 straint, abdicates the throne, and Hortense be* 
 somes unendurably weary of her pensive and 
 unambitious spouse. They agree to separate ; 
 each to journey along, unattended by the other, 
 the remainder of life's pilgrimage. Hortense 
 a joyless refuge in a secluded castic, is
 
 &4 JOSEPHINE. lAD.178 
 
 Death of Hortenae. Meeting of Josephine and Beauharoal* 
 
 one of the most retired valleys of Switzerland. 
 The tornado of counter-revolution sweeps ovei 
 Europe, and all her exalted friends and tower- 
 ing hopes are prostrated in the dust. Linger 
 ing years of disappointment and sadness pas 
 over her, and old age, with its infirmities, places 
 her upon a dying bed. One only child, Louis 
 Napoleon, since President of the French Repub- 
 lic, the victim of corroding ambition and cease 
 lessly-gnawing discontent, stands at her bed 
 side to close her eyes, and to follow her, a soli 
 tary and lonely mourner, to the grave. The 
 dream of life has passed. The shadow has van- 
 ished away. Who can fathom the mystery of 
 the creation of such a drama ? 
 
 Josephine arrived in France. She was re- 
 ceived most cordially by her husband. Sorrow- 
 ful experience had taught him the value of a 
 home, and the worth of a pure and a sanctified 
 love. Josephine again folded her idolized Eu- 
 gene in her arms, and the anguish of past years 
 was forgotten in the blissful enjoyments of a re- 
 united family. These bright and happy days 
 were, however, soon again clouded. The French 
 Revolution was now in full career. The king 
 and queen were in prison. All law wa pros- 
 trate. M. Beauharnais, at the commeooeraeni
 
 AL.D 1787.1 ARREST OF JbEAUHARNAis. 53 
 
 Influential character of Beauharnait. Jacobin* and Girondist* 
 
 of the Revolution, had most cordially espoused 
 the cause of popular liberty. He stood by the 
 *ide of La Fayette a companion and a support- 
 er His commanding character gave him great 
 Influence. He was elected a deputy to the Con- 
 stituent Assembly, and took an active part in 
 its proceedings. Upon the dissolution of this 
 Assembly, or States-General, as it was also 
 called, as by vote none of its members were im- 
 mediately re-eligible, he retired again to the 
 army ; but when the second or Legislative As- 
 sembly was dissolved and the National Conven- 
 tion was formed, he was returned as a mem- 
 oer, and at two successive sessions was elected 
 its president. 
 
 The people, having obtained an entire victory 
 over monarchy and aristocracy, beheaded the 
 king and queen, and drove the nobles from the 
 realm. France was now divided into two great 
 parties. The Jacobins were so called from an 
 old cloister in which they at first Weld their 
 meetings. All of the lowest, most vicious, and 
 the reckless of the nation belonged to this party. 
 They seemed disposed to overthrow all law, hu- 
 man and divine. Marat, Danton, and Robes- 
 pierre were the blood-stained leaders of this 
 wild and furious faction. The Girondists, their
 
 5b JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1789 
 
 The Jacobini triumphant Fearful commotions 
 
 opponents, were so called from the department 
 of the Gironde, from which most of the leaders 
 of this party came. They wished for a repub- 
 lic like that of the United States, where thero 
 should be the protection of life, and property, 
 and liberty, with healthy laws sacredly enforced. 
 
 The conflict between the two parties was long 
 and terrible. The Jacobins gained the victory, 
 and the Girondists were led to the guillotine. 
 M. Beauharnais was an active member of the 
 Girondist party, of which Madame Roland was 
 the soul, and he perished with them. Many 
 of the Girondists sought safety in concealment 
 and retreat. M. Beauharnais, conscious of his 
 political integrity, proudly refused to save his 
 life by turning his back upon his foes. 
 
 One morning Josephine was sitting in her 
 parlor, in a state of great anxiety in reference 
 to the fearful commotion of the times, when a 
 servant announced that some one wished to 
 peak to her. A young man of very gentle anJ 
 prepossessing appearance was introduced, with 
 a bag in his hand, in which were several pain 
 of shoes. 
 
 "Citizen," said the man to Josephine, "I 
 understand that you want socks of plum gray. 1 
 
 Josephine looked up in surprise, hardly ooro
 
 A. D. 1784.] ARREST OF BEAUHARNAIS. 59 
 
 i . warning. Alarm of Josephine. 
 
 prehending his meaning, when he approached 
 nearer to her, and, in an under tone, whispered, 
 
 I have something to impart to you, madame.' 1 
 
 " Explain yourself," she eagerly replied, 
 much alarmed ; "my servant is faithful." 
 
 " Ah !" he exclaimed, " my life is at stake 
 in this matter." 
 
 " Go, Victorine," said Josephine to her serv- 
 ant, " and call my husband." 
 
 As soon as they were alone, the young man 
 said, " There is not a moment to lose if you 
 would save M. Beauharnais. The Revolution- 
 ary Committee last night passed a resolution 
 to have him arrested, and at this very moment 
 the warrant is making out." 
 
 u How know you this ?" she demanded, trem 
 bling violently. 
 
 " I am one of the committee," was the reply, 
 "and, being a shoemaker, I thought these shoes 
 would afford me a reasonable pretext for adver 
 tising you, madarne." 
 
 At this moment M. Beauharnais entered the 
 room, and Josephine, weeping, thrw herself 
 into his arms. "You see my husband," she 
 said to the shoemaker. 
 
 " I have the honor of knowing him," was the 
 reply.
 
 60 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1786 
 
 BeauharnaU proudly refuse* to attempt an escape. 
 
 M. Beauharnais wished to reward the young 
 man on the spot for his magnanimous and per- 
 ilous deed of kindness. The offer was respect* 
 fall' but decisively declined. To the earnest 
 entreaties of Josephine and the young man that 
 he should immediately secure his safety by his 
 flight or concealment, he replied, 
 
 " I will never flee ; with what can they charge 
 me ? I love liberty. I have borne arms for the 
 Revolution." 
 
 " But you are a noble," the young man re- 
 joined, " and that, in the eye of the Revolution- 
 ists, is a crime an unpardonable crime. And, 
 moreover, they accuse you of having been a 
 member of the Constitutional Assembly." 
 
 " That," said M. Beauharnais, " is my most 
 honorable title to glory. Who would not be 
 proud of having proclaimed the rights of the 
 nation, the fall of despotism, and the reign of 
 laws ?" 
 
 "What laws !" exclaimed Josephine. " It is 
 in blood they are written." 
 
 "Madame," exclaimed the philanthropic 
 young Jacobin, with a tone of severity, " when 
 the tree of liberty is planted in an unfriendly 
 soil, it must be watered with the blood of its 
 enemies." Then, turning to M. Beauharnaia,
 
 A.D.1786.] AAREST OF BEAUHARNAIS. 61 
 
 Entreaties of Josephine. Arrest of Beauhain&k 
 
 he said, " Within an hour it will no longer b 
 possible to escape. I wished to save you, be- 
 oause I believe you innocent. Such was my 
 duty to humanity. But if I am commanded to 
 arrest you pardon me I shall do my duty; 
 and you will acknowledge the patriot." 
 
 The young shoemaker withdrew, and Jose- 
 phine in vain entreated her husband to attempt 
 his escape. " Whither shall I flee ?" he an- 
 swered. " Is there a vault, a garret, a hiding- 
 place into which the eye of the tyrant Robes- 
 pierre does not penetrate ? We must yield. If 
 I am condemned, how can I escape ? If I am 
 not condemned, I have nothing to fear." 
 
 About two hours elapsed when three mem 
 bers of the Revolutionary Committee, accompa- 
 nied by a band of armed men, broke into the 
 house. The young shoemaker was one of this 
 committee, and with firmness, but with much 
 urbanity, he arrested M. Beauharnais. Jose- 
 phine, as her husband was led to prison, wa 
 left in her desolated home. And she found 
 herself indeed deserted and alone. No one 
 could then manifest any sympathy w\th the 
 proscribed without periling life. Josephine's 
 friends, one by one, all abandoned her. The 
 young shoemaker alone, who had arrested he
 
 62 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 179Q 
 
 Beneficence of Josephine. The children deceived 
 
 husband, continued secretly to call with words 
 f sympathy. 
 
 Josephine made great exertions to r fctain 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 sne 
 obtained permission to visit, with her children, 
 her husband in prison, they detected the deceit. 
 After returning from the prison after their first 
 interview, Hortense remarked to her mother 
 that she thought her father's apartment very 
 small, and the patients very numerous. She 
 appeared for a time very thoughtful, and then 
 inquired of Eugene, with an anxious expression 
 of countenance, 
 
 " Do you believe that papa is ill ? If he is, it 
 lertainly is not the sickness which the doctor* 
 ture." 
 
 " What do you mean, my dear ohiM?" asked
 
 A..D. 1790.J ARREST OF J os EPHINE. t>a 
 
 Indiscretions. Airert of Jotepbine 
 
 Josephine. " Can you suppose that papa and I 
 would contrive between us to deceive you ?" 
 
 " Pardon me, mamma, but I do think so. w 
 
 " Why, sister," exclaimed Eugene, " ho\? 
 Otta you say so ?" 
 
 ''Good parents," she replied, "are unques- 
 tionably permitted to deceive their children 
 when they wish to spare them uneasiness. Is 
 it not so, mamma ?" 
 
 Josephine was not a little embarrassed by this 
 detection, and was compelled to acknowledge 
 that which it was no longer possible to conceal. 
 
 In the interview which M. Beauharnais held 
 with his wife and his children, he spoke with 
 some freedom to his children of the injustice of 
 his imprisonment. This sealed his doom. List- 
 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- 
 throw of the republic. M. Beauharnais was 
 immediately placed in close confinement. Jose- 
 phine herself was arrested and plunged into pris- 
 on, and even the terrified children were rigidly 
 examined by a brutal committee, who, by prom- 
 ises and by threats, did what they could to ex- 
 tort from them some confession which would 
 \e&Q to the conviction of their
 
 64 JOSEPHINE. JA.D. 1790 
 
 Josephine take* leave of her sleeping children. A mother"! tnarm 
 
 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, ar^ 
 thought of the utter abandonment to which they 
 were doomed, her heart throbbed with anguiahi 
 and tears, of such bitterness as are seldom shed 
 upon earth, filled her eyes. She bent over hai 
 daughter, and imprinted a mother's farewell 
 kiss upon her forehead. The affectionate child 
 though asleep, clasped her arms around her 
 mother's neck, and, speaking the thoughts of 
 thn dream passing through her mind, said
 
 A..D. 1793.] ARREST OF JOSEPHINE. 65 
 
 Arutality of the (oldien. Josephine dragged to the Carmelite*. 
 
 " Come to bed. Fear nothing. They shall 
 not take you away this night. I have prayed 
 to God for you." 
 
 The tumult in the outer hall continually in- 
 creasing, Josephine, fearful of awaking Hortense 
 and Eugene, cast a last lingering look of love 
 npon them, and, withdrawing from the cham- 
 oer, 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 
 ialidelity perpetrated in these days of its tem- 
 porary triumphs. 
 
 Wh/>n Eugene and Horiense awoke, they 
 195
 
 66 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1793 
 
 forlorn condition of the children. They find a protector 
 
 fonnd 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, an<? 
 tho children were so familiar with the recita] 
 of such scenes of violence, that they were pre- 
 pared to meet these fearful perplexities with no 
 little degree of discretion. After a few tears, 
 they tried to summon resolution to act worthily 
 of their father and mother. Hortense, with 
 that energy of character which she manifested 
 through her whole life, advised that they should 
 go to the Luxembourg, where their father was 
 confined, and demand admission to share his 
 imprisonment. Eugene, with that caution 
 which characterized him when one of the lead- 
 ers in the army of Napoleon, and when viceroy 
 of Italy, apprehensive lest thus they might in 
 some way compromise the safety of their father, 
 recalled to mind an aged great-aunt, who was 
 residing in much retirement in the vicinity of 
 Versailles, and suggested the propriety of seek 
 Ing a refuge with her. An humble female frien<? 
 conducted the children to Versailles, where they 
 were most kindly received 
 
 When the gloom of the ensuing night dark- 
 ened the city, M. Beauharnais in his cheerless
 
 A.D. 1793.] ARREST OF J OSEFHINE 67 
 
 Gloomy foreboding! of Beauharnals and Josephine. 
 
 cell, and Josephine in her prison still stained 
 with the blood of massacre, wept over the des- 
 olation of their home and their hopes. They 
 knew not the fate of their children, and their 
 minds were oppressed with the most gloomy 
 forebodings. On the ensuing day, Josephine's 
 heart was cheered with the tidings of their safe- 
 ty. Such was the second terrific storm which 
 Josephine encountered on life's dark waters.
 
 68 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1794 
 
 C<Tnt of the Carmelite*. Quality of the prisoner* 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 SCENES IN PRISON. 
 
 FT! HE Convent of the Carmelites, in which 
 -* Josephine was imprisoned, had acquired a 
 fearful celebrity during the Reign of Terror. 
 It was a vast and gloomy pile, so capacious in 
 its halls, its chapel, its cells, and its subterra 
 nean dungeons, that at one time nearly ten 
 thousand prisoners were immured within its 
 frowning walls. In every part of the building 
 the floors were still deeply stained with the 
 blood of the recent massacres. The infuriated 
 men and women, intoxicated with rum and 
 rage, who had broken into the prison, dragged 
 multitudes of their victims, many of whom were 
 priests, into the chapel, that they might, in de- 
 rision of religion, poniard them before the altar 
 About three hundred thousand innocent victim* 
 of the Revolution now crowded the prisons of 
 France. These unhappy captives, awaiting the 
 hour of their execution, were not the ignorant, 
 the debased, the degraded, but the noblest, the 
 purest, the most refined of the citizens of the
 
 A.D.1794.J SCENES n PRISON. 69 
 
 Cheerfulness of Josephine. Reading the dally Journal 
 
 republic. Josephine was placed in the chapel 
 of the convent, where she found one hundred 
 and sixty men and women as the sharers of her 
 captivity. 
 
 The natural buoyancy of her disposition ed 
 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 be 
 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 aee, each morn
 
 70 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1794 
 
 Boene* bom the prison window*. Anecdote of Hortaote 
 
 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 t 
 Fontainebleau. Josephine was informed of this 
 imprudent act of ardent affection, and wrote to 
 bor child the following admirable letter : 
 
 " I should be entirely satisfied with the good 
 Heart of my Hortense were I not displeased with
 
 A.D. 1794.] SCENES IN PRISON. 71 
 
 Latter from JoMphin* to HortenM. Mitigation of lererity 
 
 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 oan 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 sufficient 
 to do good; you must also do good properly. 
 At your age, the first of all virtues is confidence 
 and docility toward your relations. I am there- 
 fore obliged to tell you that I prefer your tran- 
 quil attachment to your misplaced warmth. 
 This, however, does not prevent me from em- 
 bracing you, but less tenderly than I shall do 
 when I learn that you have returned to your 
 aunt" 
 
 There was at this time, for some unknown 
 reason, a little mitigation in the severity with 
 which the prisoners were treated, and Josephine 
 was very sanguine in the belief that the hour 
 of their release was at hand. Emboldened by 
 this hope, she wrote a very earnest appeal to 
 the Committee of Public Safety, before whore
 
 72 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1794 
 
 Joaephine appeal) to the Committee. She U summoned to tried 
 
 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 ta 
 secure for Josephine and her husband the in- 
 dulgence of an interview. The greatest caution 
 was necessary in doing this, for he periled hi? 
 own life by the manifestation of any sympathy 
 for the accused. 
 
 The only way in which he could accomplish 
 his benevlent 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 tria 
 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 nr PRISON. 73 
 
 The unexpected interview. Feeling manifested by Beaoh*nuU 
 
 she prepared herself, with as much calmness aa 
 possible, to meet her doom. She was led from 
 her prison to the hall where the blood-stained 
 tribunal held its session, and, with many oth- 
 srs, 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 hei 
 husband. She looked again, their eyes met, 
 and husband and wife were instantly locked in 
 each other's embrace. At this interview, the 
 stoicism of M. Beauharnais was entirely sub- 
 dued the thoughts of the past, of his un worthi- 
 ness, of the faithful and generous love of Jose- 
 phine, rushed in a resistless flood upon his soul. 
 He leaned his aching head upon the forgiving 
 oosom of Josephine, and surrendered himself to 
 love, and penitence, and tears. 
 
 This brief and painful interview was their 
 last. They never met again. They were al- 
 lowed but a few moments together ere the offi-
 
 74 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1794 
 
 Trial of M. Bt^jharnV* and Joiephlno. Hope* chertehed 
 
 oera came i*nd dragged M. Beauharnais before 
 the judges. His examination lasted but a few 
 minutes, when ke was remanded back to pris- 
 on. Nothing was proved against him. No se- 
 rious accusation even was laid to his charge. 
 But he was a noble. He had descended from 
 illustrious ancestors, and therefore, as an aris- 
 tocrat, he was doomed to die. Josephine was 
 also conducted into the presence of this san- 
 guinary tribunal. She was the wife of a no- 
 bleman. She was the friend of Maria Antoi- 
 nette. She had even received distinguished 
 attentions at court. These crimes consigned 
 her also to the guillotine. Josephine was con- 
 ducted back to her prison, unconscious of the 
 sentence which had been pronounced against 
 her husband and herself. She even cherished 
 the sanguine hope that they would soon be lib- 
 erated, for she could not think it possible that 
 they could be doomed to death without even 
 the accusation of crime. 
 
 Each evening there was brought into the 
 prison a list of the names of those who were to 
 be led to the guillotine ou the ensuing morning. 
 A row days aiior iho trim., on the evening of the 
 24th of July, 1794, M. Beauharnais found hi* 
 name with the proscribed who were to be led to
 
 A D. 1794.] SCENES IN PRISON. 7t 
 
 Besnharnaif 'i last letter to Josephine. BnMattty of the exeovtiocwtn 
 
 tne 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, 
 he returned from his guilty wanderings, and 
 anew sought her love. He implored her to 
 cherish in the hearts of his children the memo- 
 ry of their father, that, though dead, he might 
 still live in their affections. While he wa* 
 writing, the executioners came in to cut off hii 
 long hair, thai the ax might do its work unim- 
 peded. Picking up a small look from the floor, 
 be 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 
 
 RemoT&l of the guillotine. Execution of M. Beauhamaii 
 
 chasing from them a few hairs, which he in- 
 closed in his letter, and which she subsequently 
 feceived. 
 
 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 tha 
 pavements, groaned with their burdens, and the 
 persons in the streets looked on in sullen silence. 
 M. Beauharnais, with firmness, ascended the 
 scaffold. The slide of the guillotine fell, and 
 the brief drama of his stormy life was ended. 
 
 While the mutilated form of M. Beauharnais 
 was borne to an ignoble burial, Josephine, en- 
 tirely unconscious of the calamity which had 
 befallen her, was cheering her heart with the 
 hope of a speedy union with her husband and 
 her children in their own loved home. 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 
 the prison. Some of the ladies in the prison
 
 A.D. 1794. 1 SCENES IN PRISON 77 
 
 Josephine become* Informed thereof. Her grief. Her depair 
 
 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 8he fell senseless upon the floor. For a 
 long time she remained in a swoon. When 
 consciousness returned, and with it a sense of 
 the misery into which she was plunged, in the 
 delirium of her anguish she exclaimed, "Oh 
 God ! let me die ! let me die ! 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 upon 
 her soui. The morning dawned drearily. A 
 band of rough and merciless agents from th 
 Revolutionary Assembly came to her with th 
 almost welcome intelligence that in two days
 
 78 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1794 
 
 Preparation* Cor the execution of Josephine. She become* cheerful 
 
 she was to be led to the Coneiergerie, and from 
 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 negress, gently 
 smiling, said, "We have no cause for alarm 
 my friends; I am not to be executed. It i 
 written in the decrees of Fate that I am yet to 
 be Queen of France." Some of her frieuda 
 thought that the suppressed anguish of her heart 
 had driven har to delirium, and they wept more
 
 AD. 1794.J SCENES IN PRISON. 7 
 
 Credulity of lofephina. The unexpected de3ver*noe. 
 
 bitterly. But one of the ladies, Madame d'Ai- 
 guiilon, was a little irritated at pleasantry which 
 she deemed so ill timed. With something like 
 resentment, she asked, "Why, then, madame, 
 do you not appoint your household ?" " Ah ! 
 that is true," Josephine replied. " I had for- 
 gotten. Well, you, my dear, shall be my maid 
 of honor. I promise you the situation." They 
 both lived to witness the strange fulfillment of 
 this promise. Josephine, however, who, from the 
 circumstances of her early life, was inclined ta 
 credulity, afterward declared that at the time 
 her mind reposed hi the full confidence that if 
 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 faulting for rapture inexpress- 
 ible The prisoners leaped into each other's 
 arms, and, frantic with happiness, clung togeth- 
 er in that long and heartfelt embrace which 
 none can appreciate but thoae who have Deer
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1794 
 
 * miraculous change. Deliverance to the captrret 
 
 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 witb 
 victims were to be emptied of their captives.
 
 AD.1794.] RELEASE FROM PRISOW. 81 
 
 M. TaHlen. Madame de Fontenay 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE RELEASE FROM PRISON. 
 
 THE 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 the 
 Convent of the Carmelites that he might have 
 the satisfaction of catching a glimpse of the one 
 he loved through her grated window 
 
 Madame de Fontenay had received secret in- 
 telligence that she was soon to be led before the 
 Convention for trial. This she knew to be but 
 the prelude of her execution. That evening 
 196
 
 82 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1794 
 
 A lover" device. Execution of Robespierre decreed 
 
 M. Tallien appeared as usual before the guard- 
 ed casement of the Carmelites. Madame do 
 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 France and me." 
 
 With intense interest, they watched the mo- 
 tions of M. Tallien until they saw him take the 
 cabbage-leaf from the ground. Roused by the 
 billet to the consciousness of the necessity of 
 immediate action, he proceeded to the Conven- 
 tion, and, with the impassioned energy which 
 love for Madame de Fontenay and hatred of 
 Robespierre inspired, made an energetic and 
 fearless assault upon the tyrant. Robespierre, 
 pale and trembling, saw that his hour had 
 come. A decree of accusation was preferred 
 against him, and the head of the merciless des- 
 pot fell upon that guillotine where he had al- 
 ready caused so many thousands to perish. The 
 day before Josephine was to have been exeou
 
 A.D.1794.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 83 
 
 Singular mode of conveying Infornuttov. 
 
 ted, he was led, mangled and bleeding, to the 
 scaffold. He had attempted to commit suicide. 
 The ball missed its aim, but shattered his jaw. 
 The wretched man ascended the ladder, and 
 stood upon the platform of the guillotine. The 
 executioners tore the bandage from Jus man- 
 gled face, that the linen might not impede the 
 blow of the ax. Their rude treatment of the 
 inflamed wound extorted a cry of agony, which 
 thrilled upon the ear of the assembled crowd, 
 and produced a silence as of the grave. The 
 next moment the slide fell, and the mutilated 
 head was severed from the body. Then the 
 very heavens seemed rent by one long, loud, ex- 
 ulting shout, which proclaimed that Robespierre 
 was no more ! 
 
 The death of Robespierre arrested the ax 
 which was just about to fall upon the head of 
 "osephine. The first intimation of his over- 
 throw was communicated to her in the follow- 
 ng singular manner. Madame d'Aiguillon 
 was weeping bitterly, and sinking down with 
 faintness in view of the bloody death to which 
 her friend was to be led on the morrow. Jose- 
 phine, whose fortitude had not forsaken her, 
 drew her almost senseless companion to the 
 window, that she might be revived by the fresh
 
 84 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1794. 
 
 Pantomimic representatiou of Robespierre's fall. 
 
 air. Her attention was arrested by a woman 
 of the lower orders in the street, who was con- 
 tinually looking up to the window, beckoning 
 to Josephine, and making many very singular 
 gestures. She seemed to desire to call her at- 
 tention particularly to the 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, 
 which in French is Pierre. Josephine again 
 cried out pierre. The woman appeared over- 
 joyed on perceiving that her pantomime began 
 to be understood. She then put the two to- 
 gether, pointing alternately to the one and to 
 the other. Josephine cried out Robespierre. 
 The woman then began to dance and shout with 
 delight, and made signs of cutting off a head. 
 
 This pantomime excited emotions in the bo- 
 som of Josephine which cannot be described. 
 She hardly dared to believe that the tyrant had 
 actually fallen, and yet she knew not how else 
 to account for the singular conduct of the wom- 
 an. But a few moments elapsed before a great 
 noise was heard in the corridor of the prison. 
 The turnkey, in loud and fearless tones, cried 
 out to his dog, " Get out, you cursed brute of
 
 A..D 1794.] KELHISK FROM PRISON. 87 
 
 Thtivorul Joy catued by the death of the tyrant. 
 
 A Robespierre!" This emphatic phraseology 
 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 prison doors burst open, and France was 
 filled with hearts throbbing with eostacy, and 
 with eyes overflowing with tears of rapture. 
 Five hundred thousand fugitives were trembling 
 in their retreats, apprehensive of arrest. They 
 issued from their hiding-places frantic with joy, 
 and every village witnessed their tears and em- 
 braces. 
 
 The new party which now came into power 
 with Tallien at its head, in mediately 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 ecstasy 
 when Josephine, again free, pressed Eugene and 
 Hortense to her heart. But the most serious 
 embarrassments immediately crowded upon her. 
 Poverty, stern and apparently remediless, was 
 her lot. She had no friends upon whom she 
 had any right to call for aid. There was no 
 employment open before her by which she could 
 obtain her subsistence; and it appeared that she 
 and her children were to be reduced to absolute 
 beggary. These were among the darkest hours 
 of her earthly career. It was from this abyss 
 of obscurity and want that she was to be raised 
 to a position of splendor and of power such as 
 the wildest dreams of earthly ambition could 
 hardly have conceived. 
 
 Though Robespierre was dead, the strife of
 
 A.D.1794:.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 89 
 
 Heartlessness of Marat. Eugene apprenticed to an artisan. 
 
 rancorous parties raged with unabated violence, 
 and blood flowed freely. The reign of the mob 
 still continued, and it was a mark of patriotism 
 demanded by the clamors of haggard want and 
 degradation to persecute all of noble blood. 
 Young girls from the boarding-schools, and boys 
 just emerging from the period of childhood, 
 were beheaded by the guillotine. " We must 
 exterminate," said Marat, " all the whelps 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 
 offering her a home. Every fireside has a wel- 
 come for a noble heart. Madame Dumoulin, a
 
 JDSEPHINB. |A D. 1795 
 
 Undoes* >f Jocephlne'i frimd*. She recover* her property 
 
 lady of great elevation of character, whose largr 
 fortune had by some chance escaped the gen 
 eral wreck, invited Josephine to her housfc. 
 and freely supplied her wants. Madame Fon- 
 tenay, also, who was a woman of great beauty 
 and accomplishments, soon after her liberation 
 was married to M. Tallien, to whom she had 
 tossed the note, inclosed in a cabbage-leaf, from 
 her prison window. It was this note which had 
 so suddenly secured the overthrow of the tyrant, 
 and had rescued so many from the guillotine. 
 They both became the firm friends of Josephine 
 Others, also, soon became strongly attracted to 
 her by the loveliness of her character, and 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 she 
 had her own peaceful home, with Eugene and 
 Hortense by her side. Her natural buoyancy 
 of spirits rose superior to the storms which had 
 swept so mercilessly over her, and in the love 
 of her idolized children, and surrounded by the 
 ympathies of appreciative friends, days of se-
 
 A.D. 1795.J RELEASE FROM PRISON. 91 
 
 & domestic ioene. A new order of knighfinood 
 
 renity, and even of joy, began to shine upon 
 her 
 
 A domestic scene occurred in the dwelling 
 of Josephine on the anniversary of the death of 
 M. Beauharnais peculiarly characteristic of the 
 times and of the French people. Josephine 
 called Eugene to her room, and presented to 
 him a portrait of his father. " Carry it to your 
 chamber, my son," she said, " and often let it 
 be the object of your contemplations. Above 
 all, let him whose image it presents be your 
 constant model. He was the most amiable of 
 men ; he would have been the best of fathers." 
 
 Eugene was a young man of that enthusi 
 astio 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 the 
 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, eaoh 
 decorated with a copy of the portrait of M. 
 Beauharnais suspended from the neck by a black 
 and white ribboi.. " You see," said Eugene te
 
 98 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1795 
 
 The Or<Vr of Filial Lr~*. Inauguration. Decorations of the room 
 
 his mother, " the founders of a new order of 
 knighthood. Behold our tutelary saint," point- 
 ing to the portrait of his father. " And these 
 re the first members." He then introduced 
 bis youthful companions to his mother. 
 
 " Ours," he continued, " is named the Order 
 of Filial Love ; and, if you would witness the 
 first inauguration, pass with these gentlemen 
 into the small drawing-room." 
 
 Josephine entered the drawing-room with 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 iu 
 front were placed two vases with perfumes. 
 
 The young gentlemen ranged themselves 
 about the altar in perfect silence, and, at a con- 
 certed signal, eagerly unsheathed the swords 
 which they wore at their sides, and, clamping 
 hands, solemnly took thf oath, " To lot't tkeit
 
 A..D. 1795.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 9? 
 
 fbe oath. New organisation of K>eUl o*lj 
 
 parents, succor each, other, and to defend their 
 country." At this moment, Eugene, unfurling 
 and waving a small banner, with its folds sha- 
 ded the head of his father. "We then em- 
 braced each other," says Josephine, " mingling 
 tears with smiles, and the most amiable disor- 
 ier 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- 
 ment* 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 descends 
 from an illustrious ancestry marked all theL
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1795 
 
 The " Ball of the Vlctinn." Fuhionable style of hair-d 
 
 intercourse. The humiliations through which 
 the nobles had passed had not diminished the 
 exclusiveness of their tastes. The other circle 
 was composed of merchants and bankers who 
 had acquired opulence in the midst of the con- 
 fiscations and storms of revolution. The pas- 
 sion for display was prominent in all their as- 
 semblies, as is necessarily the case with those 
 whose passport to distinction is wealth. 
 
 At the theaters and all the places of public 
 festivity, there were presented studied memo- 
 rials of the scenes of horror through which al] 
 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 " k la guillotine." The hair 
 was arranged in the manner in which it had 
 been adjusted by the executioner for the nnim- 
 peded operation of the ax. And thus, with 
 songs, tnd dances, and laughter-moving jokes 
 they commemorated the bloody death of their 
 friends. 
 
 A new insurrection by the populace of Paris 
 at this time planned against the Conven-
 
 A..D. 1795.] RELEASE PROM PRISON. 95 
 
 4 new tauorrectioa. The flttl* Ccmecn 
 
 tion. The exasperated people were again to 
 i naroh upon the Tuilleries. The members were 
 in extreme consternation. The mcb could bring 
 tens of thousands against them, well armed with 
 muskets and heavy artillery. There were but 
 five hundred regular troops with which to resist 
 the onset. Menou, the officer in command, ac- 
 knowledged his inability to meet the crisis, and 
 surrendered his power to Barras. This general 
 immediately, as by a sudden thought, exclaim- 
 ed, "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 
 tuiiazement 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, " 4re you willing to undertake 
 our defense ?"
 
 6 JOSEPHINE. [AJ).179f 
 
 Mapoloon'i authority ertablkhed. The TnlUar.M forttfle* 
 
 " Yes !" was the calm, laconic, and almost 
 Indifferent reply. 
 
 " But are you aware of the magnitude of the 
 undertaking ?" 
 
 u Fully !" said Napoleon, fixing his piercing 
 eye upon the president ; " and I am in the 
 habit of accomplishing that which I undertake." 
 
 From that moment his authority was estab- 
 lished. Every member of the Convention felt 
 the mysterious fascination of his master minu. 
 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, ?o as to rake all the 
 avenues to the Convention. His calm and al- 
 most superhuman energy sought no repose that 
 night. The delay of but a few moments would 
 have placed this very park of artillery, which 
 secured his victory, in the hands of the insur- 
 gents. When the morning dawned, the Tuil- 
 kries, as if by magic, had assumed the aspect 
 if a fortified camp. The little Corsican was 
 silently and calmly awaiting the onset, as se- 
 cure of triumph as if the victory were already 
 achieved. 
 
 But in every quarter of Paris, during the
 
 A..D. 1795.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 97 
 
 Advance of the insurgents. Napoleon opens his batteries. 
 
 night, the insurgents had been mustering their 
 forces, and the mutterings of the approaching 
 storm were dismally echoed through the streets 
 of the metropolis. Above thirty thousand men, 
 all well armed with musketry and artillery, in 
 regular military array, and under experienced 
 generals, came pouring down upon the feeble 
 band which surrounded the Convention. 
 
 Will the little Corsican dare to fire upon 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. He offered no par- 
 ley; he uttered not a word of warning; he con 
 descended to no threats. The insurgents, be- 
 lieving that he would not dare to fire upon 
 them, advanced within fifty yards of his masked 
 battery, when he opened his columns, and, in. 
 the roar of artillery shotted to the muzzle, the 
 voice of Napoleon was for the first time heard 
 in the streets of Paris. The thunder of his 
 197
 
 98 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1795 
 
 defeat of the Insurgent*. Rifting fame of Napoleou 
 
 tones was preceded by the lightning's bolt. Tha 
 merciless storrn of grape-shot, sweeping the 
 streets, covered the ground with the dead and 
 the dying. No mortal could withstand such a 
 conflict. The advancing foe wavered for an 
 instant, and then, in the utmost consternation, 
 took to flight. Napoleon commanded immedi- 
 ately the most rapid discharge of blank car- 
 tridges. Peal upon peal, their loud reverbera- 
 tions deafened the city, and added wings to the 
 flight of the terror-stricken crowd. But a few 
 moments elapsed ere not even a straggler could 
 be seen in the deserted streets. The little Cr* 
 sican, pale and calm, stood, with folded aims, 
 as unperturbed as if no event of any moment 
 had occurred. During the whole day, howev- 
 er, the conflict continued in different parts of 
 the city, but before nightfall the insurgents 
 were every where entirely discomfited. 
 
 Paris was now filled with the name of Na- 
 poleon. Some regarded him as a savior, pro 
 tecting the Convention ; others considered him 
 a demon, deluging 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 
 announced. Josephine had never yet met him,
 
 A.J). 1795.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 99 
 
 HI* first interview with Josephine. HLa " seal * 
 
 though, of course, she had heard much of one 
 whose rising fame filled the metropolis. 
 
 She says that she trembled violently at th 
 announcement of his name. His entrance 
 seemed to excite general interest, and all eyea 
 were turned toward him, though most of the 
 company regarded him in silence. He approach- 
 ed Josephine, and the subject of the recent con- 
 flict in the streets of Paris was introduced. 
 
 " It seems to me," said Josephine, " that it 
 is only with regret that we should think of the 
 consternation you have spread through the cap- 
 ital. It is a frightful service you have per- 
 formed." 
 
 " It is very possible," he replied. " The 
 military are only automata, to which the gov- 
 ernment gives such motions as it pleases. They 
 have no duty but to obey. Besides, I wished 
 to teach the Parisians a little lesson. This is 
 my seal which I have set upon France." 
 
 This he said in such calm, quiet, imperturb- 
 able tones, so expressive of his perfect confi- 
 dence in himself, and of his indifference to the 
 opinions of others, that Josephine was quite 
 piqued, and replied politely, but yet in a man- 
 ner which indicated her displeasure. 
 
 " These light skirmishes," the young genera.
 
 100 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1795 
 
 Napoleon disarms the populace. The sword of Beauhurnais. 
 
 % . 
 
 rejoined, " are but the first coruscations of my 
 glory." 
 
 " If you are to acquire glory at such a price," 
 Josephine answered, "I would much rather 
 count you among the victims." 
 
 Such was the first interview between Jose- 
 phine and Napoleon. It was merely a casual 
 meeting in an evening party between a widow, 
 graceful and beautiful, and a young man of 
 boundless ambition. Though Josephine was 
 not pleased with Napoleon, he produced a very 
 profound impression upon her mind. Napoleon, 
 being now in command of the troops in Paris, 
 by order of the Convention, executed the very 
 unpopular office of disarming the populace. In 
 the performance of this order, the sword of M. 
 Beauharnais was taken. The next day, Eu- 
 gene, who was then a boy twelve years of age, 
 of exceedingly prepossessing appearance, pre- 
 sented himself before Napoleon, and implored 
 the return of the sword which had belonged to 
 his father. Napoleon was deeply interested in 
 the frankness and the fervor of emotion mani- 
 fested by the lad, and immediately complied 
 with his request. Josephine called upon him 
 the next day to thank him for his kindness to 
 her son. He was at this interview as deeply
 
 A.D. 1795.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 101 
 
 Napoleon regards Josephine 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 de 
 Beauharnais, and her rank, and influence, and 
 troops of friends would greatly aid him in hia 
 ambitious plans. It is also unquestionably true 
 that Napoleon formed a very strong attachment 
 for Josephine. Indeed, she was the only person 
 whom he ever truly loved. That he did love her 
 at times most passionately there can be no doubt. 
 
 Josephine, however, had many misgivings 
 respecting the expediency of the union. She 
 stated to her friends that he was the most fas- 
 cinating man that she had ever met ; that she 
 admired his courage, the quickness of his judg- 
 ment, the extent of his information. She, how- 
 ever, confessed that she did not really love him 
 that she stood in awe of him. " His search 
 ing glance," she says, " mysterious and inex- 
 plicable, imposes even upon our Directors 
 judge if it may not intimidate a woman." 
 
 " Being now past the heyday of youth," she 
 *rrites in a letter to a friend, " can I hope long
 
 102 JOSEPHINE. [A.D 1795 
 
 letter to a Iriend. Foretight of Napoleon 
 
 to preserve that ardor of attachment which, in 
 the general, resembles a fit of delirium ? I 
 after our union, he should cease to love me, 
 will he not reproach me with what he will have 
 sacrificed for my sake ? Will he not regret a 
 more brilliant marriage which he might have 
 contracted ? What shall I then reply ? What 
 shall I do ? I shall weep. Excellent resource ! 
 you will say. Alas ! I know that all this can 
 serve no end ; but it has ever been thus ; tears 
 are the only resource left me when this poor 
 heart, so easily chilled, has suffered. 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 gooc* 
 part. 
 
 " Barras gnes assurance that if I marry th 
 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 their protection to arrive at power ? Egre- 
 gious mistake ! They will all be but too happy 
 one day should I grant them mine My swotf* 
 is by my side, and with it I will go far '
 
 AD. 1795.] RELEASE FROM PRISON. 103 
 
 HI i confidence. HI* ambition unbounded . His moral principle*. 
 
 " What say you to this security of success? 
 IB it not a proof of confidence springing from 
 an excess of vanity ? A general of brigade pro- 
 tect the heads of government! that, truly, is 
 an event highly probable ! I knov not now it 
 is, but sometimes this waywardness gains upon 
 me to such a degree that almost I believe pos- 
 sible whatever this singular man may take it 
 in his head to attempt ; and, with his imagina- 
 tion, who can calculate what he will not under- 
 take'" 
 
 It was now winter. The storm of Devolu- 
 tion had partially subsided. The times were, 
 however, full of agitation and peril. Europe 
 was in arms against France. There was no 
 stable government and no respected laws. The 
 ambitious young general consecrated liis 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 JCSUPHINE [A.D. 1795 
 
 Napoleon' eitimate of the female lex. Strength of his attachment 
 
 or reading. His attachment for Josephine be- 
 came very ardent and passionate. The female 
 character at this time, in France, was far from 
 high. Napoleon had but little respect for ladiea 
 in general. The circumstances of his life had 
 led him to form a low estimate of the sex. He 
 often 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 affections, but of 
 stronger ambition. Josephine was entirely sat- 
 isfied with the singleness and the ardor of his 
 love. She sometimes trembled in view of its 
 violence. She often remarked to her friends 
 that he was incompaiably the most fascinating 
 man she had ever met. All have equally at- 
 tested Napoleon's unrivaled powers of pleas ing, 
 whenever it suited his purpose to maka the ef- 
 fort. The winter thus rapidly and pleasantly 
 passed away
 
 A. D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 105 
 
 Marriage of Josephine and Napoleon. The army of Italy. 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 
 
 O1ST the 9th of March, 1796, Josephine was 
 married to Napoleon. The Revolution had 
 swept away every thing that was sacred in 
 human and divine institutions, and the attempt 
 had been made to degrade marriage into a mere 
 partnership, which any persons might contract 
 or dissolve at pleasure. According to the Rev- 
 olutionary form, Josephine and Napoleon pre- 
 sented themselves before a magistrate, and sim- 
 ply announced their union. A few friends at- 
 tended as witnesses of the ceremony. 
 
 Napoleon had, in the mean time, been ap- 
 pointed commanderof the French forcesin 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 felt and 
 admitted that lie was their master. He seemed
 
 106 JOSEPHINE. [1 D.1796 
 
 Proclamation ;f Napoleon. He U eallnc n tguormu 
 
 insensible to mental exhaustion, or itigue, 01 
 hunger, or want of sleep. He was pon horse- 
 back night and day. Almost supe mtural ac- 
 tivity was infused into the army. It fell like 
 n avalanche upon the Austrians. In fifteen 
 days after he took command, he pioclaimed to 
 ais exulting and victorious troops, 
 
 " Soldiers ! you have gained in fifteen day 
 six victories, taken one-and-twenty standards, 
 fifty-five pieces of cannon, many strong places, 
 and conquered the richest part of Piedmont; 
 you have made fifteen thousand prisoners, and 
 killed or wounded ten thousand men." 
 
 Paris was perfectly intoxicated with the aiv 
 nounoement, day after day, of these brilliant 
 achievements. The name of Napoleon was 
 upon every lip, and all France resounded with 
 his praises. " This young commander," said 
 one of the discomfited veteran generals of the 
 Austrian army, " knows nothing whatever about 
 the art of war. He is a perfect ignoramus. 
 He sets at defiance all the established rules of 
 military tactics. There is no doing any thing 
 with him." 
 
 Napoleon, after a series of terrible conflicts 
 and most signal triumphs, drove the Austrian! 
 out of Italy, pursued them into their own ooun-
 
 A.D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 107 
 
 Josephine at Montebello. Her popularity 
 
 try, and at Leoben, almost within sight of th 
 steeples of Vienna, dictated a peace, which 
 crowned him, in the estimation of his country- 
 men, with the highest glory. Josephine now 
 went from Paris to Italy to meet her triumph- 
 ant husband. They took up their residence at 
 the Castle of Montebello, a .most delightful 
 country seat in the vicinity of Milan. 
 
 And here Josephine passed a few months of 
 almost unalloyed happiness. The dark and 
 tempestuous days through which she had re- 
 cently been led, had prepared her to enjoy most 
 exquisitely the calm which ensued. She had 
 been in the deepest penury. She was now in 
 the enjoyment of all that wealth could confer. 
 She had been widowed and homeless. She was 
 now the wife of a victorious general who*e 
 fame was reverberating through Europe, and 
 her home combined almost every conceivable 
 attraction. She had been a prisoner doomed 
 to die, and her very jailer feared to speak to her 
 In tones of kindness Now she was caressed by 
 aobles and princes ; all the splendors of a court 
 surrounded her, and every heart did her homage 
 Josephine presided at all her receptions and en- 
 tertainments with an elegance of manner so 
 winning as perfectly to fascinate the Milanese
 
 108 JOSEPHS E. [A.D. 1796 
 
 Pleasure excursions. Isola Bella 
 
 " I conquer provinces," said Napoleon of her at 
 that time, " but Josephine wins hearts." The 
 ricinity 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 hi 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 
 id not, perhaps, in Italy a more lovely drive than 
 that from Milan, along the crystal waters of 
 Lake Como to Lake Maggiore. This romantic 
 lake, embosomed among the mountains, with its 
 densely wooded islands and picturesque shores, 
 was a favorite resort for excursions of pleasure. 
 Here, in gay parties, they floated in boats, with 
 well-trained rowers, and silken awnings, and 
 streaming pennants, and ravishing music. Th 
 island of Isola Bella, or Beautiful Island, with 
 its arcades, its hanging gardens, and its palace 
 of monkish gloom, was Napoleon's favorite land- 
 ing-place. Here they often partook of refresh- 
 ments, and engaged with all vivacity in rural 
 festivities. It is stated that, while enjoying one
 
 ...D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. Ill 
 
 nee dote Ambition of Mapotooh 
 
 jf these excursions, Josephine, with one or two 
 3ther ladies, was standing under a beautiful 
 orange-tree, loaded with fruit, with the atten- 
 tion of the party all absorbed in admiring the 
 beauties of the distant landscape. Napoleon, 
 nnperceived, crc+, *n the tree, and by a sudden 
 shake brougnt acnra quite a shower of the golden 
 fruit upon the ladies. The companions of Jo- 
 sephine screamed with affright and n n from the 
 tree. She, however, accustomed to such pleas- 
 antries, suspected the source, and remained un- 
 moved. " Why, Josephine !" exclaimed Napo- 
 leon, " you stand fire like one of my veterans." 
 " And why should I not?" she promptly replied 
 " am I no* the wife of their commander ?" 
 
 Napoleouu, 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 aspiratiDns of her husband, was extremely 
 influential in winning to him the powerful 
 ' friends by whom they were surrounded. 
 
 The achievements which Napoleon aooom
 
 112 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796 
 
 Bi achievements. Feari of the Directory 
 
 plished during the short Italian campaign are 
 perhaps unparalleled in ancient or modern war- 
 fere. 
 
 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. He 
 cut up four several armies which were sent from 
 Austria to oppose him, tooK one nunared 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- 
 id as the liberator of Italy ; and, encircled with 
 the pomp and the power of a monarch, he re- 
 ceived such adulation as monarchs rarely enjoy. 
 
 The Directory in Paris began to tremble in 
 view of the gigantic strides which this ambitious 
 general was making. They surrounded him 
 with spies to garner up his words, to watch his 
 actions, and, if possible, to detect his plans. But 
 the marble face of this incomprehensible youth 
 told no secrets. Even to Josephine he revealed 
 not his intentions ; and no mortal scrutiny could 
 explore the thoughts fermenting in his deep and 
 capacious mind. His personal appearance al
 
 A.D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 113 
 
 Description of Napoleon. His reserve. 
 
 this time is thus described by an observer of his 
 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 there 
 is something which seems to indicate that his 
 career is not yet terminated. I found him very 
 like his portrait, small in stature, thin, pale, 
 with the air of fatigue, but not in ill health. 
 He appeared to me to listen with more abstrac- 
 tion than interest, as if occupied rather with 
 what he was thinking of than with what was 
 said to him. There is great intelligence in his 
 countenance, along with an expression of habit- 
 ual meditation, which reveals nothing of what 
 is passing within. In that thinking head, in 
 that daring mind, it is impossible not to sup- 
 pose that some designs are engendering which 
 shall have their influence upon the destinies of 
 Europe." 
 
 Napoleon was fully confident of the jealousy 
 he had aroused, and of the vigilance with which 
 he was watched. His caution often wounded 
 Josephine, as he was as impentirable to her in 
 reference to all his political plans as to any one 
 else. While she at times loved him almost to 
 adoration, she ever felt in awe of the unexplored 
 198
 
 114 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1796 
 
 Remark of Josephine. Snant pln 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- 
 efficiency of those who, amid the surges of the 
 Revolution, had been elevated there to the su 
 preme power, and already he secretly contem 
 plated the overthrow of the government, as soon 
 .s an opportunity promising success should be 
 presented. Josephine, with her children, re- 
 mained in Milan, that she might continue tc 
 dazzle the eyes of the Milanese with the splen- 
 dor of the establishment of the Liberator of It-
 
 A..D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 115 
 
 tftpoleon'i lore for Joaephin*. Her influence orer him 
 
 aly, and that she might watch over the inter- 
 ests of her illustrious spouse. 
 
 She gave splendid entertainments. Her sa- 
 loons were ever thronged with courtiers, and 
 the inimitable grace she possessed enabled her, 
 with ease and self-enjoyment, to preside with 
 queenly dignity over every scene of gayety. 
 She was often weary of this incessant giandeur 
 and display, but the wishes of her husband and 
 her peculiar position seemed to afford her no 
 choice. Napoleon unquestionably loved Jose- 
 phine as ardently as he was capable of loving 
 any one. He kept up a constant, almost a 
 daily correspondence with her. Near the close 
 of his life, he declared that he was indebted to 
 her for every moment of happiness he had known 
 on earth. Ambition was, however, with Na- 
 poleon a far more powerful passion than love. 
 He was fully conscious that he needed the as- 
 sistance of his most accomplished wife to raise 
 him to that elevation he was resolved to attain. 
 Self-reliant as he was, regardless as he ever ap- 
 peared to be of the opinions or the advice of 
 others, the counsel of Josephine had more influ- 
 ence over him than perhaps that of all other 
 persons combined. Her expostulations not un- 
 frequently modified his plans, though his high
 
 116 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796 
 
 4 young ald-do-camp. Affection of the Italian* for Napoleon 
 
 spirit could not brook the aoknowledgment. 
 Hortense and Eugene were with Josephine at 
 Milan. Eugene, though but seventeen years 
 of age, had joined Napoleon in the field as one 
 of his aids, and had signalized himself by many 
 acts of bravery. 
 
 In this arrangement we see an indication of 
 the plans of boundless ambition which were al- 
 ready maturing in the mind of Bonaparte. The 
 Italians hated their proud and domineering mas- 
 ters, the Austrians. They almost adored Na- 
 poleon as their deliverer. He had established 
 the Cisalpine Republic, and conferred upon them 
 a degree of liberty which for ages they had not 
 enjoyed. Napoleon had but to 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 we 
 may search history in vain for a parallel. Ita- 
 ly consequently became the base of Nape leon's 
 operations. There he was strongly intrenched. 
 In case of failure in any of his operations in 
 Paris, he could retire behind the Alps, and bid 
 defiance to his foes. 
 
 Josephine was exactly the partner he needed 
 to protect these all-important interest* during
 
 A.D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 117 
 
 Josephine an ally. She li at horos in every situation 
 
 his absence. Her strong and active intelligence, 
 her sincerity, her unrivaled powers of fascina- 
 ting all who approached her, and her entire de- 
 votion to Napoleon, rendered her an ally of ex- 
 ceeding efficiency. Powerful as was the arm 
 of Napoleon, he never could have risen to the 
 greatness he attained without the aid of Jose- 
 phine. She, at Milan, kept up the splendor of 
 a royal court. The pleasure-loving Italians 
 ver 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 sc 
 severely tested the character, would have been 
 often extremely embarrassed, and would have 
 made many mistakes. It was remarkable in 
 Josephine, that, notwithstanding the seclusion 
 of her childhood and early youth, she ever ap- 
 peared self-possessed, graceful, and at home in 
 every situation in whioh she was placed. She 
 moved through the dazzling scenes of her court
 
 118 JOSEPHINE IA.D. 1796 
 
 Pnoinburused air of Josephine. She become* the queea of etiquette 
 
 at Milan, scenes of unaccustomed brilliance 
 which had so suddenly burst upon her, with an 
 air as entirely natural and unembarrassed AS if 
 her whole life had been passed in the saloona 
 of monarchs. She conversed with the mosl 
 distinguished generals of armies, with nobles of 
 the highest rank, with statesmen and scholars 
 of wide-spread renown, with a fluency, an ap- 
 propriateness, and an inimitable tact which 
 would seem to indicate that she had been cra- 
 dled in the lap of princes, and nurtured in the 
 society of courts. It seemed never to be neces- 
 sary for her to study the rules of etiquette. She 
 was never accustomed to look to others to as- 
 certain what conduct was proper under any cir- 
 cumstances. Instinctive delicacy was her un- 
 erring teacher, and from her bearing others 
 compiled their code of politeness. She became 
 the queen of etiquette, not the subject. 
 
 Thus, while Napoleon, in Paris, was cau- 
 tiously scrutinizing the state of public affairs, 
 and endeavoring to gain a position there, Jose- 
 phine, with the entire concentration of ah hei 
 energies to his interests, was gaining for him 
 in Milan vast accessions of power. She had no 
 conception, indeed, of the greatness he was des- 
 tined to attain. But she loved her husband
 
 A.D. 17&6.J JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 119 
 
 Josephine an object of homage. Her power* of fascination 
 
 She was proud of his rising renown, and it was 
 her sole ambition to increase, in every way in 
 her power, the luster of his name. Aristocracy 
 circled around her in delighted homage, while 
 poverty, charmed by her sympathy and her be- 
 neficence, ever greeted her with acclamations. 
 The exploits of Napoleon dazzled the world, and 
 the unthinking world has attributed his great- 
 ness to his own unaided arm. But the gentle- 
 ness of Josephine was one of the essential ele- 
 ments in the promotion of his greatness. In 
 oo-operation with her, he rose. As soon as he 
 abandoned her, he fell. 
 
 Josephine soon rejoined her husband in Par- 
 is, where she very essentially aided, by her fas- 
 cinating powers of persuasion, in disarming the 
 hostility of those who were jealous of his rising 
 fame, and in attaching to him such adherents 
 as could promote his interests. In the saloons 
 of Josephine, many of the most heroic youths 
 ;f France were led to ally their fortunes with 
 those of the young general, whose fame had so 
 uddenly burst upon the world. She had the 
 rare faculty of diffusing animation and cheer- 
 fulness wherever she appeared. "It is," she 
 once beautifully remarked, " a necessity of my 
 heart to love others, and to be loved by them
 
 120 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796 
 
 Popular enthusiasm. Affected secltuion 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, 
 * / will that all around me be happy.' " 
 
 Napoleon singularly displayed his knowledge 
 of human nature in the course he pursued upo } 
 his return to Paris. He assumed none of th : 
 pride of a conqueror. He studiously avoided 
 every thing like ostentatious display. Day aft- 
 er day his lieutenants arrived, bringing the 
 standards taken from the Austrians. Pictures, 
 and statues, and other works of art extorted 
 from the conquered, were daily making their 
 appearance, keeping the metropolis in a state 
 of the most intense excitement. The Parisians 
 were never weary of reading and re-reading 
 those extraordinary proclamations of Napoleon, 
 which, in such glowing language, described his 
 almost miraculous victories. The enthusiasm 
 of the people was thus raised to the highest 
 pitch. The anxiety of the public to see this 
 young and mysterious victor was intense be- 
 yond description. But he knew enough of the 
 human heart to be conscious that, by avoiding 
 the gratification of these wishes, he did but en- 
 hance their intensity. Modestly retiring to an 
 unostentatious mansion in the Rue Chante-
 
 A..D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 121 
 
 Hi* become* itudiouj. Hit laudable emulation. IIlj noble unMttoa 
 
 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- 
 sation with learned men. He laid aside his 
 military garb, and assumed the plain dress of a 
 member of the Institute. When he walked the 
 streets, he was seldom recognized by the people. 
 Though his society was courted in the highest 
 circles of Paris, his ambition was too lofty to 
 be gratified with shining among the stars of 
 fashion. Though he had as yet reached but 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 ht 
 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 could feel in
 
 122 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1796 
 
 Kapoleon the Idel of the array. Anecdote 
 
 vie.w of merely worldly interests. He wished 
 r o acquire the renown of benefiting nankind by 
 the performance of the noblest exploits. Ilia 
 ultimate end was his own fame. But he knew 
 that the durability of that fame could only be 
 secured by the accomplishment of noble ends. 
 
 The effeminate figure of Napoleon in these 
 early days had caused the soldiers to blend with 
 their amazed admiration of his military genius 
 a kind of fondness of affection for which no par- 
 allel can be found in ancient or modern story. 
 The soldiers were ever rehearsing to one anoth- 
 er, by their night-fires and in their long marches, 
 anecdotes of his perfect fearlessness, his brilliant 
 sayings, his imperious bearing, by which he 
 overawed the haughtiness of aristocratic power, 
 and his magnanimous acts toward the poor and 
 the lowly. 
 
 One night, when the army in Italy was in 
 great peril, worn out with the fatigue of sleep- 
 lessness and of battle, and surrounded by A us- 
 trians, Napoleon was taking the round of hi* 
 posts in disguise, to ascertain the vigilance ol 
 his sentinels. He found one poor soldier, in 
 perfect exhaustion, asleep at his post. Napo- 
 ] eon shouldered his musket, and stood sentry 
 for him for half an hour When the m*n awok
 
 AD. 1796.] JOSEPHIAE IN ITALY. 
 
 Napoleon mounts guard. The "Little Corporal.' 
 
 and recognized the countenance of his general, 
 he sank back upon the ground in terror and 
 despair He knew that death was the doom 
 for such a crime. " Here, comrade," said Na- 
 9oleon, kindly, " here is your musket. You 
 have fought hard and marched long, and your 
 sleep is excusable. But a moment's inatten- 
 tion might at present ruin the army. I hap- 
 pened to be awake, and have guarded your post 
 for you. You will be more careful another 
 time." 
 
 At the "terrible passage of the bridge of 
 Lodi," Napoleon stood at one of the guns, in 
 the very hottest of the fire, directing it with his 
 own hand. The soldiers, delighted at this very 
 unusual exhibition of the readiness of their gen- 
 eral to share all the toils and perils of the hum- 
 blest private in the ranks, gave him the hon 
 orary and affectionate nickname of " The Little 
 Corporal." By this appellation he was after- 
 ward universally known in the army. The 
 enthusiasm of the soldiers invested him with 
 supernatural endowments, and every one was 
 ready at any moment to peril life for the Little 
 Corporal 
 
 The government at Paris, rapidly waning in 
 popularity, notwithstanding their extreme jeal-
 
 124 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. I79t 
 
 Triumphal fete. Song of the loldleri. Speech of Barriu 
 
 ousy of the wide-spreading influence of this vic- 
 torious general, was compelled, by the sponta- 
 neous acclamations of the people, to give him a 
 public triumph, when the famous treaty which 
 Napoleon had effected in Italy was to be for- 
 mally presented to the Directory. The mag- 
 nificent court of the Luxembourg was embel- 
 lished with the flags of the armies which he had 
 conquered, and the youthful hero of Lodi, of 
 Arcola, and of Rivoli made his first triumphant 
 appearance in the streets of Paris. The en- 
 thusiasm of the vast concourse of excitable Pa- 
 risians overleaped all bounds. The soldiers of 
 the proud army of Italy sang at their encamp- 
 ments, in enthusiastic chorus, a song in which 
 they declared that it was high time to eject the 
 lawyers from the government, and make the 
 Little Corporal the ruler of France. Barras, 
 the friend of Josephine, who had selected Na- 
 poleon to quell the insurrection in Paris, and 
 who had secured to him the command of the 
 army of Italy, declared in a eulogistic speech 
 on this occasion that " Nature had exhausted 
 all her powers in the creation of a Bonaparte." 
 This sentiment was received with the most 
 deafening peals of applause. 
 
 But how like the phantasmagoria of magic
 
 A.D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 123 
 
 Remarkable contrast Josephine the center of attraction 
 
 has this change burst upon the bewildered Jo- 
 sephine. But a few months before, her hus- 
 band, wan and wasted with imprisonment and 
 woo, had been led from the subterranean duiv 
 geons of this very palace, with the execratioLj 
 of the populace torturing hi f ear, to bleed upon 
 the scaffold. She, also, was then herself a pris- 
 oner, without even a pillow for her weary head, 
 awaiting the dawn of the morning which was 
 to conduct her steps to a frightful death. Her 
 children, Hortense and Eugene, had been res 
 cued from homelessness, friendlessness, and beg- 
 gary only by the hand of charity, and were de- 
 pendent upon that charity for shelter and for 
 daily bread. Now the weeds of widowhood have 
 given place to the robes of the rejoicing bride, 
 and that palace is gorgeously decorated in honor 
 of the world-renowned companion upon whose 
 arm she proudly leans. The acclamations re- 
 sounding to his praise reverberate over mount- 
 ain and valley, through every city and village 
 of France. Princes, embassadors, and cour- 
 tiers obsequiously crowd the saloons of Jose- 
 phine. Eugene, an officer in the army, high in 
 rank and honor, is lured along life's perilous 
 pathway by the most brilliant prospects. Hor- 
 tense in dazzling beauty, and surrounded by ad-
 
 126 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796 
 
 loMphlne the " Htm- of Napoleon." She U a ministering angel 
 
 mirere, is intoxicated with the splendor, which, 
 like Oriental enchantment, has burst upon hei 
 ?iew. 
 
 Josephine, so beautifully called " the Star of 
 Napoleon," was more than the harbinger of his 
 rising. She gave additional luster to his brill- 
 iance, and was as the gentle zephyr, which 
 sweeps away the mists and vapors, and presents 
 a transparent sky through which the undimmed 
 luminary may shine. Her persuasive influence 
 was unweariedly and most successfully exerted 
 in winning friends and in disarming adversaries. 
 The admiration which was excited for the stem 
 warrior in his solitary, silent, unapproachable 
 grandeur, whose garments had been dyed in 
 blood, whose fearful path had been signalized 
 by conflagrations, and shrieks, and the wailmgs 
 of the dying, was humanized and softened by 
 the gentle loveliness of his companion, who was 
 jver a ministering angel, breathing words of 
 iindness, and diffusing around her the spirit of 
 harmony and love. Napoleon ever freely ac- 
 knowledged his indebtedness to Josephine for 
 her aid hi these morning hours of his greatness. 
 
 "But unalloyed happiness is never allotted tc 
 mortals. Josephine's very loveliness of person 
 and of character was to her the occasion of
 
 A.D. 1796.] JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 127 
 
 Jemloury of Napoleon. Art* of her enemies to encourage it 
 
 many hours of heaviness. No one could be in- 
 sensible to the power of her attractions. The 
 music of her voice, the sweetness of her smile, 
 the grace of her manners, excited so much ad- 
 miration, invested her with a popularity so uni- 
 versal and enthusiastic, that Napoleon was, at 
 times, not a little disturbed by jealousy. Her 
 appearance was ever the signal for crowds to 
 gather around her. The most distinguished 
 and the most gallant men in France vied with 
 each other in doing her homage. Some of the 
 relatives of Napoleon, envious of the influence 
 she exerted over her illustrious spouse, and 
 anxious, by undermining her power, to subserve 
 their own interests, were untiring ha their en 
 deavors to foster all these jealousies. Josephine 
 was exceedingly pained by the occasional indi- 
 cations of her husband's distrust. A word from 
 his lips, a glance from his eye, often sent her to 
 her chamber with weeping eyes and an aching 
 heart. An interview with her husband, liow- 
 5ver, invariably removed his suspicions, and he 
 gave her renewed assurances of his confidence 
 and his love. 
 
 The plans of Napoleon in reference to his fu- 
 ture operations were still in a state of great 
 uncertainty His restless spirit could not brook
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796 
 
 rhe " pear" not yet ripe. Napoleon reaolres to go to Egypt 
 
 inactivity. He saw clearly that the time had 
 not yet come in which he could, with the pros- 
 pect of success, undertake to overthrow the 
 Revolutionary government and grasp the rein* 
 of power himself. Tt use his own expressive 
 language, " The pear was not yet ripe." To 
 one of his intimate friends he remarked, "They 
 do not long preserve at Paris the remembrance 
 of any thing. If I remain any length of time 
 unemployed, I am undone. The renown of one. 
 in this great Babylon, speedily supplants that 
 of anothe . If I am seen three times at the 
 opera, I shall no longer be an object of curiosity. 
 You ne^d not talk of the desire of the citizens 
 to see me. Crowds, at least as great, would go 
 to see me led out to the scaffold. I am de- 
 termined not to remain in Paris. There i* 
 nothing here to be done. Every thing here 
 passes away. My glory is already declining 
 This little corner of Europe is too small to sup. 
 ply it. We must go to the E ast. All the great 
 men of the world have there acquired their o- 
 labrity. We will go to Egypt." 
 
 Such was the grandeur of the dreams of 
 young man who had not yet passed his twenty- 
 sixth year. And these were not the musings of 
 a wild and visionary brain, but the deeply laid
 
 A.D 1797.J JOSEPHINE IN ITALY. 129 
 
 Magnificence rf hit plan*. 
 
 and cautiously guarded plans of a mind which 
 had meditated profoundly upon all probable 
 emergencies, and which had carefully weighed 
 all the means which could be furnished for the 
 accomplishment of an enterprise so arduous and 
 so majestic. 
 199
 
 130 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1796. 
 
 Contemplated Invasion of England. Expedition to Kfjpt 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISOM. 
 
 Directory in Paris became daily more 
 and more alarmed, in view of the vast and 
 ever-increasing popularity of the conqueror of 
 Italy. A plan had been formed for the invasion 
 i England, and this was deemed a good oppor- 
 tunity for sending from France their dangerous 
 rival. Napoleon was appointed commander-in- 
 ohief of the army of England. He visited the 
 ooast, and devoted ten days and nights, with 
 his extraordinary rapidity of apprehension, in 
 investigating the prospects of success. He re- 
 turned to Paris, saying, "It is too doubtful a 
 chance. I will not hazard on such a throw the 
 fate of France." All his energies were then 
 turned to his Egyptian expedition. He hoped 
 to gain reputation and power in Egypt, pass 
 through into India, raise an army of natives, 
 headed by European officers and energized by 
 an infusion of European soldiers, and thus drive 
 the English out of India. It was a bold plan. 
 The very grandeur of the enterprise roused the
 
 A-.D.1798.J JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 131 
 
 Hope* of the Directory Napoleon'* dislike of the Rerolutin* 
 
 enthusiasm of France. The Directory, secretly 
 rejoicing at the prospect of sending Napoleon 
 so far away, and hoping that he would perish 
 on the sands of Africa, without much reluctance 
 agreed to his proposal. 
 
 . Napoleon never loved the Revolution, and he 
 most thoroughly detested the infamous and san- 
 guinary despotism which had risen upon the 
 ruins of the altar and the throne. He chanced 
 to be in Paris when the drunken and ragged 
 mob. like an inundation, broke into the Tuille- 
 ries, and heaped upon the humiliated Louis 
 XVI. and Maria Antoinette the most infamous 
 outrages. He saw the monarch standing at the 
 window of his palace, with the dirty red cap of 
 Jacobinism thrust upon that brow which had 
 worn the crown of Charlemagne. At the sight, 
 the blood boiled hi the veins of the youthful 
 Napoleon. He could not endure the spectacle 
 Turning upon his heel, he indignantly exclaim- 
 ed, " The wretches ! had they mown down four 
 or five hundred with grape-shot, the rest would 
 speedily have taken to flight." 
 
 He often expressed his dislike of the violent 
 reTolutionary course which the Directory were 
 pursuing, and stated freely to his friends, " For 
 ray part, I declare, that if I had only the option
 
 132 JOSEPHINE [A D. 1798 
 
 (Upoleon Royillit Sailing of the expedttloa 
 
 between royalty and the system of these gen 
 tlemen, I would not hesitate for one moment to 
 declare for a king." Just before Napolaon em 
 barked for the East, Bourrienne asked him ii 
 he was really determined to risk his fate on the 
 perilous expedition to Egypt. " Yes !" he re- 
 plied. " If I should remain here, it would be 
 necessary to overturn this miserable govern- 
 ment, and make myself king. But we must 
 not think of that yet. The nobles will not con- 
 sent to it. I have sounded, but I find the time 
 for that has not yet arrived. I must first daz- 
 zle these gentlemen by my exploits." 
 
 On the morning of the 19th of May, 1798, 
 the fleet set sail from the harbor of Toulon. It 
 was a morning of surpassing loveliness, and 
 seldom, if ever, has the unclouded sun shone 
 upon a more brilliant scene. The magnificent 
 armament extended over a semicircle of not less 
 than eighteen miles. The fleet consisted of 
 thirteen ships of the line, fourteen frigates, and 
 four hundred transports. They carried forty 
 thousand picked soldiers, and officers of the 
 highest celebrity. For the first time in the 
 world, a corps of scientific gentlemen was at- 
 tached to a military expedition. One hundred 
 eminent irtists and connoisseurs Narolecn had
 
 A.D. 1798.] JOSEPH NE AT MALMAISON. 133 
 
 A corps of iavan$. Josephine in Toulon. Plan of Napokmn. 
 
 eolleoted to gather the antiquarian treasures of 
 Egypt, and to extend the boundaries of science 
 by the observation of the phenomena of nature. 
 They formed a part of the staff of the irvading 
 irmy. 
 
 Josephine accompanied her husband to Tou- 
 lon, and remained with him until his embarka- 
 tion. She was extremely anxious to go with 
 him to Egypt, and with tears plead that he 
 would allow her to share his hardships and his 
 perils. Napoleon, however, deemed the haz- 
 arda to which they would be exposed, and the 
 fatigues and sufferings they must necessarily 
 endure, as quite too formidable for Josephine 
 to encounter. But in the anguish of their part- 
 ing, which is described as most tender, she 
 wrung from him a promise to allow her to fol- 
 low as soon as affairs in the East should render 
 it prudent for her to do so. It can hardly be 
 possible, however, that Napoleon ever expected 
 to see her in Egypt. He himself has thus de- 
 scribed the objects he had in view in this vast 
 enterprise : " 1. To establish on the banks of 
 the Nile a French colony, which could exist 
 without slaves, and supply the place of Saint 
 Domingo. 2. To open a market for the man- 
 ufactures of France in Africa, Arabia, and
 
 134 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1799 
 
 No obstacle imurmountable. Lonelineu of Jocephia* 
 
 Syria, and to obtain for the productions of his 
 countrymen the productions of those countries. 
 }. To set out from Egypt, with an army of sixty 
 thousand men, for the Indus, rouse the Mah- 
 rattas to a revolt, and excite against the En- 
 glish the population of those vast countries. 
 Sixty thousand men, half Europeans, half na- 
 tives, transported on fifty thousand camels and 
 ten thousand horses, carrying with them pro- 
 visions for fifty days, water for six, with one 
 hundred and fifty pieces of cannon and double 
 ammunition, would arrive in four months in 
 India. The ocean ceased to be an obstacle 
 when vessels were constructed. The desert 
 becomes passable the moment you have camels 
 and dromedaries in abundance." 
 
 As the fleet got under way, Josephine stood 
 upon a balcony, with tearful eyes, gazing upon 
 the scene, so imposing, and yet so sorrowful to 
 her. The Orient, a ship of enormous magni- 
 tude, contained her husband and her son. They 
 were going into the midst of dangers from 
 whence it was doubtful whether they would 
 ever return. She fixed her eyes upon the ship 
 is its lessening sails grew fainter and fainter in 
 the distance, until the hardly discernible speck 
 disappeared beneath the horizon, which the blue
 
 A.D. 1798.] JOSEPHINE T MALMAISON. 135 
 
 Residence at Plombttraa. Josephine tend* for her daughter 
 
 waves of the Mediterranean outlined. She 
 retired to her room with those feelings of lone- 
 Hness and desolation which the circumstances 
 were so peculiarly calculated to inspire. 
 
 It was arranged that Josephine should take 
 op her residence, until Napoleon should send 
 for her, at Plombieres, a celebrated watering- 
 place, whose medicinal springs were supposed 
 to be very efficacious in restoring maternity. 
 She sent for Hortense, at that time fifteen years 
 of age, and who was then in the boarding-schoo 
 f the distinguished Madame Campan. Jose- 
 phine wished for her daughter to be her com 
 panion during the weary hours of her absence 
 from her husband. She was expecting that, 
 as soon as a landing should be effected in Egypt, 
 a frigate would be dispatched to convey her to 
 the banks of the Nile. She found solace during 
 the lingering weeks of expectation in devoting 
 herself to the instruction of her daughter. Her 
 comprehensive and excellent views on the sub- 
 ject of education are developed in a letter which 
 he at this time wrote to Madame Campan, Jt 
 accompany a niece who was to return to her 
 school: 
 
 " MY DEAR MADAME CAMPAN , With my 
 , whom I return to your charge, receive
 
 136 JOSEPHINE 
 
 | ftm/itvpmit 
 
 also my thanks and my reproof. The former 
 are due for the great oare and brilliant educa- 
 tion which you have bestowed upon the child ; 
 the latter, for the faults which your sagacity 
 must have discovered, but which your indul- 
 gence has tolerated. The girl is gentle, but 
 shy ; well informed, but haughty ; talented, but 
 thoughtless. She does not please, and takes no 
 pains to render herself agreeable. She conceives 
 that the reputation of her uncle and the bravery 
 of her father are every thing. Teach her, and 
 that by the most effectual means, how absolute* 
 ly unavailing are those qualities which are not 
 personal. We live in an age where each is the 
 author of his own fortunes ; and if those who 
 serve the state in the first ranks ought to have 
 some advantages and enjoy some privileges, they 
 should, on that account, strive only to render 
 themselves more beloved and more useful. It 
 is solely by acting thus that they can have some 
 chance of excusing their good fortune in the eyes 
 of envy Of these things, my dear Madame 
 Campan, you must not allow my niece to re- 
 main ignorant; and such are the instruct! e~s 
 which, in my name, you should repeat to her 
 constantly. It is my pleasure that she treat as 
 equals every one of her companions, most of
 
 n..D. 1798.] JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 137 
 
 Napoleon lend* frigate for Joiephlne. Seriom accident 
 
 are better or as good as herself, their 
 only inferiority consisting in not having rela- 
 tions so able or so fortunate." 
 
 Notwithstanding Napoleon's strong disincli- 
 nation to have Josephine join him in Egypt, 
 and though in every letter he strongly urged 
 her to relinquish the plan, she was so importu- 
 nate in her solicitations that he sent the Pomo- 
 na frigate to convey her across the Mediterra- 
 nean. She was prevented from embarking by 
 an accident, which she must have deemed a 
 very serious calamity, but which probably saved 
 her from years of captivity. She was one morn- 
 ing sitting in her saloon, busy with her needle, 
 and conversing with several ladies who were her 
 companions and intimate friends, when a lady 
 who was standing in the balcony called the at- 
 tention of the party to a very beautiful dog 
 which was passing in the street. All the ladies 
 lushed upon the balcony, when, with a fearful 
 crash, it broke dowr, and precipitated them 
 upon the pavement. Though no lives were lost, 
 several of the party were dreadfully injured 
 Josephine was so severely bruised as to be ut- 
 terly helpless, and for some time she was fed 
 like an infant. It was several months before 
 he was sufficiently recovered to be able to lea vo
 
 138 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1798 
 
 Capture of the Pomona frigate. Purchase of Mftlmnnoa 
 
 her house. This grievous disappointment, how- 
 ever, probably saved her from another, which 
 would have been far more severely felt. The 
 frigate in which she was to have embarked, had 
 it not been for this accident, was captured by 
 one of the English cruipers and taken to London 
 
 Napoleon went to Egypt because he thought 
 it the shortest route to the vacant throne of the 
 Bourbons. He despised the rulers who were 
 degrading France, and placing a stigma upon 
 popular liberty by their ignorance and their vi- 
 olence, and he resolved upon their overthrow 
 Consequently, while guiding the movements of 
 his army upon the banks of the Nile, his atten- 
 tion was continually directed to Paris. He 
 wrote to Josephine that he intended ere long to 
 return, and directed her to purchase a pleasant 
 country seat somewhere in the vicinity of Paris. 
 
 About ten miles from the metropolis and five 
 miles from Versailles there was a beautiful 
 ohatean, most charmingly situated, called Mai- 
 maison. This estate Josephine purchased, great- 
 ly enlarging the grounds, at an expense of about 
 one hundred thousand dollars. This lovely re- 
 treat possessed unfailing rural attraction for a 
 mind formed, like that of Josephine, for the rich 
 tppreoiat-'ou of all that is kvely in the aspect*
 
 A..D.1799.] JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 139 
 
 JoMphine remore* thither. Espionage of Majx>leo* 
 
 of nature. Napoleon was deiighted with the 
 purchase, and expended subsequently incredible 
 tuns in repairs and enlargements, and in em- 
 bellishments of statues, paintings, and furni- 
 ture. This was ever the favorite residence of 
 Napoleon and Josephine. 
 
 As the leaves of autumn began to fall, Jose- 
 phine, who had been slowly recovering from the 
 effects of the accident, left Plombieres and took 
 up her residence at Malmaison. Napoleon wag 
 absent in Egypt about eighteen months. Dur- 
 ing the winter and the ensuing summer, Jose- 
 phine remained with Hortense, and several 
 other ladies, who composed her most agreeable 
 household, in this beautiful retreat. The celeb- 
 rity of Napoleon surrounded them with friends, 
 mnd that elegant mansion was the resort of the 
 most illustrious in rank and intellect. Napo- 
 leon, who had ever a spice of jealousy in his 
 nature, had every thing reported to him whioh 
 occurred at Malmaison. He was informed re 
 peoting all the guests who visited the chateau, 
 and of the conversation which passed in everj 
 interview. 
 
 Hortense was a lively girl of fifteen, and the 
 time hung rather heavily upon her hands. She 
 tmnsed herself in playing all manner of prank*
 
 140 JOSEPHINE. f A.D. 1799 
 
 Playfulness of Hortence. Cunt The apparition 
 
 upon a. very singular valet de chambre, by the 
 name of Carrat, whom her mother had brought 
 from Italy. This man was very timid and eo- 
 aentrio, but, with most enthusiastic devotion, 
 attached to the service of Josephine. 
 
 One evening Carrat received orders to attend 
 Madame Bonaparte and several ladies who 
 were with her in their twilight walk through 
 the magnificent park belonging to the estate. 
 Carrat, ever delighted with an opportunity to 
 display his attachment to his kind mistress, 
 obeyed with great alacrity. No ladies in peril 
 oould desire a more valiant knight-errant than 
 the vaunting little Italian assumed to be. They 
 had not advanced far into the somber shadows 
 of the grove when they saw, solemnly emerging 
 from the obscurity, a tall specter in its wind- 
 ing-sheet. The fearful apparition approached 
 the party, when the valet, terrified beyond all 
 power of self-control, and uttering the most 
 fearful shrieks, abandoned the ladies to the ten- 
 iar mercies of the ghost, and fled. The phan- 
 tam, with its white drapery fluttering in the 
 wind, pursued him. Soon the steps of the af- 
 frighted valet began to falter, and he dropped 
 upon the ground; Insensible, in a fit. Hortense, 
 who had been perfectly convulsed with laugh-
 
 A D 1799.] JOSEPHINE AT MALMAIBON. 141 
 
 Mortf me tormentor. A chower-bcth In embry.i 
 
 ter in view of the triumphant success of her 
 experiment, was now correspondingly alarmed. 
 The ghost was a fellow-servant of Carrat, who 
 had been dressed out nnder the superintendence 
 of the mischievous Hortense. 
 
 As the poor man recovered without any se- 
 rious injury and without the slightest diminu- 
 tion of his excessive vanity, the fun-loving Hor- 
 tense could not repress her propensity still to 
 make him the butt of her practical jokes. It 
 was a defect in her character that she could find 
 pleasure in this mischievous kind of torment. 
 It is not improbable that this trait of character, 
 which appears so excusable in a mirthful girl 
 of fifteen, was the cause of that incessant train 
 of sorrows which subsequently embittered her 
 whole life. Carrat was perfectly devoted to Jo- 
 sephine ; Hortense was his torment. 
 
 The unlucky valet occupied a sleeping-room 
 separated from another only by a thin deal par- 
 tition. A hole was made through this, and a 
 pail of water so suspended in equilibrium over 
 the pillow of the victim, that by drawing a cord 
 the whole contents would be emptied upon his 
 head. The supports of the bedstead had also 
 been removed, so that the whole fabric would 
 fall as soon as any weight was placed upon it
 
 142 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1799 
 
 PmlU of loving darkness rather than light Murder I fir* 
 
 Carrat, among his other eccentricities, was evei 
 In the habit of going to bed without a light 
 Matters being thus prepared, Hortense, who had 
 employed an attendant to aid her in her plans 
 stood in an adjoining room to enjoy the oata 
 trophe. 
 
 The poor man entered his room, and threw 
 himself upon his pallet. Down it came with a 
 crash, and his shriek of fright was for a moment 
 drowned in the inundation of water. Hortense, 
 knowing the almost delirious fear which the pu- 
 erile valet had of reptiles, cried, " Poor man ! 
 poor man ! what will he do. The water was full 
 of toads." Carrat, in utter darkness, drench- 
 ed with cold water, and overwhelmed in the 
 ruins of his bed and bedding, shrieked, " Mur- 
 der ! help ! fire ! drowning !" while Hortense 
 and her accomplices enjoyed his ludicrous terror. 
 She afterward made him a handsome present 
 as a compensation. Hortense was not a mali- 
 cious girl, but, like many others who are mirth- 
 fed and thoughtless, she found a strange pleas- 
 ore in teasing. Josephine's only happiness was 
 in making others happy. " It is a necessity of 
 my heart," she said, "to love those around me, 
 and to be loved by them in return." How much 
 more noble such a spirit !
 
 A.l>. 1799.] JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 143 
 
 f OMphlaa'* ie*l for her buibmd. Letter to *n enlgrtut 
 
 Though Josephine was not fully informed re- 
 rpecting the ultimate designs of Napoleon, and 
 though Napoleon at this time probably had 00 
 very definite plans respecting his future actions, 
 his interests manifestly required that she should 
 exert all her powers to strengthen the ties of 
 those who were already his friends, and to gain 
 others to his rising name. Josephine acquired 
 great influence over many members of the Di- 
 rectory, and this influence she was continually 
 exerting for the relief of those who were hi dis- 
 tress. Many of the proscribed emigrants were 
 mdebted to her for liberty and the restoration 
 of their forfeited estates. The following letter 
 from Josephine to an emigrant, whose fortune, 
 and perhaps life, she had saved, exhibits her in- 
 tellectual elevation as well as the amiability of 
 her heart. 
 
 " SIR, Your petition, which reached Mal- 
 maison on the 12th, was presented the same 
 evening, and by myself, to Citizen Barras. J 
 have the pleasure to announce to you that the 
 decision is favorable, and that now, erased from 
 the fatal list, you are restored to all the rights of 
 a French citizen. But in transmitting a com- 
 munication not less agreeable to me than to 
 yourself, permit me to enhance its value by re-
 
 144 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1799 
 
 Remark* of BarrM. Good adrlce offered, 
 
 peating to you the exact words with which it 
 was accompanied by the Director. 'I have 
 Osually little to deny you, madame,' said he 
 resenting me with a sealed inclosure contain* 
 ing the act of restoration, ' and certainly, when 
 humanity is concerned, I can have far less ob- 
 jection. But pity for misfortune does not ex- 
 olude justice, and justice is inseparable from the 
 love of truth. As unfortunate, M. de Sansal 
 merits commiseration. As an emigrant, he has 
 right to none. I will say more ; had I been dis- 
 posed to be severe, there existed a cause for 
 stern reprisals on the part of a government to 
 whose kindness he replies by insults. Although 
 I despise those of such a man, I appreciate them. 
 They prove an ungrateful heart and a narrow 
 mind. Let him be careful about expressing 
 his hatred. All my colleagues are' not equally 
 indulgent.' 
 
 " Blame only yourself, sir, for the small snare 
 of amenity in these counsels. They are harsh; 
 perhaps, but useful; and you will do well to 
 render them effective. Regard, also, the faith. 
 falness with which I transcribe them as a proof 
 of the deep interest I take in your welfare, and 
 of my anxiety that the interference of your 
 friends may be justified by your future conduct *
 
 A D. 179U.1 JOSEPHINE AT MALMA/SON 145 
 
 Correspondence Intercepted. False charge* against Josephine. 
 
 For some time a very constant correspond- 
 ence was kept up between Napoleon and Jose- 
 phine, but after the destruction of the French 
 fleet by Lord Nelson in the Bay of Aboukir, and 
 vrhen the Mediterranean had become completely 
 blocked up by English cruisers, almost every 
 letter was intercepted. 
 
 For political purposes, there were many who 
 wished to destroy the influence which Jose- 
 phine had acquired over the mind of her illus- 
 trious husband. In the accomplishment of this 
 plan, they endeavored, in every way in their 
 power, to excite the jealousy of Napoleon. The 
 very efforts which Josephine was making to at- 
 tract the most influential men in Paris to her 
 saloon were represented to him as indications 
 of levity of character, and of a spirit of unpar- 
 donable coquetry. The enemies of Josephine 
 had their influential agents in the camp of 
 Napoleon, and with malice, never weary, they 
 whispered these suspicions into his ear. The 
 jealousy of his impassioned nature was strongly 
 aroused. In his indignation, he wrote to Jo- 
 sephine in terms of great severity, accusing her 
 of " playing the coquette with all the world." 
 She was very deeply wounded by these unjust 
 nupioions, and wrote to him a letter in reply, 
 1910
 
 146 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1749 
 
 lUpoleon'i confidence Impaired. Employment! of JoMphiM 
 
 which, for tenderness and delicacy of sentiment, 
 and the expression of conscious innocence, if 
 hardly surpassed by any thing which has e\ei 
 been written. Her letter was intercepted, an^ 
 Napo.eon never saw it. For many months near- 
 ly all communication with the army of Egypt 
 was cut off by the vigilance of the English. 
 There were flying reports ever reaching the eai 
 of Josephine of disaster to the army, and even 
 of the death of Napoleon. Josephine was at 
 times in great distress. She knew not the fate 
 of her husband or her son. She knew that, by 
 the grossest deception, her husband's confidence 
 in her had been greatly impaired, and she feared 
 that, should he return, she might never be able 
 to regain his affections. Still, she devoted her- 
 self with unwearied diligence in watching over 
 all his interests, and though her heart was often 
 oppressed with anguish, she did every thing in 
 her power to retain the aspect of cheerfulnes* 
 and of sanguine hope. One of her favorite 
 amusements the favorite amusement of almost 
 svery refined mind was found in the oultiva 
 tion of flowers. She passed a portion of everj 
 pleasant day with Hortense among the flower- 
 beds, with the hoe, and the watering-pot, and 
 the pruning- knife. Hortense, though he loved
 
 A..D.1799.] JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON. 147 
 
 ha rlcitt the poor. She comfort* the afflicted. 
 
 the society of her mother, was not fond of these 
 employments, and in subsequent life she never 
 turned to them for a solace. With Josephine, 
 however, this taste remained unchanged through 
 life. She was also very fond of leaving the aris- 
 tocratic walks of Malmaison, and sauntering 
 through the lanes and the rural roads, where she 
 could enter the cottages of the peasants, and 
 listen to their simple tales of joy and grief. To 
 many of these dwellings her visit was as the 
 mission of an angel. Her purse was never 
 closed against the wants of penury. But that 
 which rendered her still more a ministering 
 spirit to the poor was that her heart was ever 
 open, with its full flood of sympathy, to share 
 the grief of their bereavements, and to rejoice 
 in their joy. When she sat upon the throne 
 of France, and even long after she sank into 
 the repose of the grave, the region around Mal- 
 maison was full of recitals of her benevolence. 
 Aristocratic pride at tunes affected to look down 
 with contempt upon the elevated enjoyments of 
 i noble heart. 
 
 Thus occupied in pleading with those in 
 power for those of illustrious birth who had, by 
 emigration, forfeited both property and life ; in 
 nailing the sick and the sorrowing in the hum-
 
 148 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1799 
 
 Bene Yolenee of Josephine's heart 
 
 ble cottages around her ; in presiding with 
 queenly dignity over the brilliant soirees in her 
 own saloons, where talent and rank were ever 
 assembled, and in diffusing the sunlight of her 
 own cheerful heart throughout the whole house- 
 hold at Malmaison, Josephine, through weary 
 months, awaited tidings from her absent bus* 
 Mttd.
 
 A.D.1799.] WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 149 
 
 Deplorable eundttioB of Franc*. The " pear" now rip*. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 JOSEPHINE THE WIFE OF THE FIRST 
 CONSUL. 
 
 f I1HE winter of 1799 opened upon France in 
 -"- the deepest gloom. The French were wea- 
 ry of the horrors of the Revolution. All busi- 
 ness was at a stand. The poor had neither 
 employment nor bread. Starvation reigned in 
 the capital. The Austrians had again entered 
 Italy, and beaten the French at almost every 
 point. No tidings were received from Bona- 
 parte and the army in Egypt Rumors of the 
 death of Napoleon and of a disastrous state of 
 the enterprise filled the city. The government 
 at Paris, composed of men who had emerged 
 from obscurity in the storms of revolution, was 
 imbecile and tyrannical in the extreme. The 
 nation was weary beyond endurance of the strife 
 of contending factions, and ardently desiied 
 ome strong arm to be extended for the restora- 
 tion of order, and for the establishment of an 
 efficient and reputable government " The 
 pear was ripe."
 
 150 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1799 
 
 Braing party. Landing of Napoleon at Frejo* 
 
 On the evening of the 9th of November, a 
 large an: very brilliant party was assembled in 
 Paris at the house of M. Gohier, president of 
 the Directory. The company included all the 
 most distinguished persons then resident in the 
 metropolis. Josephine, being in Paris at that 
 time, was one of the guests. About midnight, 
 the gentlemen and ladies were gathering around 
 a supper table very sumptuously spread, when 
 they were startled by a telegraphic announce- 
 ment, communicated to their host, that Bona- 
 parte had landed that morning at Frejus, a 
 small town upon the Mediterranean shore. The 
 announcement created the most profound sen- 
 sation. All knew that Napoleon had not re- 
 turned at that critical moment without an ob- 
 ject Many were pale with apprehension, con- 
 scions that his popularity with the army would 
 enable him to wrest from them their ill-gotten 
 power. Others were elated with hope. Yet 
 universal embarrassment prevailed. None dared 
 to express their thoughts. No efforts could re- 
 vive the conviviality of the evening, and the 
 party soon dispersed. 
 
 Josephine, with the deepest emotion, hast- 
 ened home, immediately summoned her car- 
 riage, and, taking with her Hortense and Louis
 
 A.D.1799.] WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 151 
 
 Josephine hMteni to meet klau Tbej crou ch cJher'i path. 
 
 Bonaparte, set out, without allowing an hoar 
 for repose, to meet her husband. She was very 
 anxious to have an interview with him before 
 her enemies should have an opportunity to fill 
 his mind with new accusations against her 
 The most direct route from Paris to Frejns 
 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 
 hea* ' that Napoleon had taken the other route, 
 and, some forty-eight hours before, had passed 
 her on the way to Paris. No words can describe 
 the anguish which these tidings caused her. Her 
 husband would arrive in 1'aris and find her ab- 
 sent He would immediately be surrounded 
 by those who would try to feed his jealousy. 
 Two or three days must elapse ere she could 
 poasibly retrace her steps. Napoleon arrived in 
 Paris the 10th of November. It was not until 
 nearly midnight of the 13th that Josephine re- 
 turned Worn out with the fatigues of travel-
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1799 
 
 JoMpklae'f encmlM succeed In roofing the anger of MapoJeon. 
 
 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 forgetralness 
 of him, and of ever playing the coquette with 
 all the debauchees of Paris. Napoleon, stimu- 
 lated by that pride which led the Roman em- 
 peror to say, " Ceesar's wife must not be sus- 
 pected," threatened loudly " divorce open and 
 public divorce." Said one maliciously to him, 
 " She will appear before you with all her fasci- 
 nations, explain matters ; you will forgive all, 
 and tranquillity will be restored." " Never ! 
 never !" exclaimed the irritated general, strid- 
 ing to and fro through the room. " I forgive ! 
 never ! You know me. Were I not sure of
 
 A.D.1799.) WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 Mr* ting of Josephine and Eugene. Che i repuUed bj Napoleon. 
 
 my resolution, I would pluck out this heart and 
 oast it into the fire." 
 
 Such was the mood of mind in which Napo- 
 ison was prepared to receive Josephine, after an 
 absence of eighteen months. Josephine and 
 Hortense alighted in the court-yard, and wero 
 immediately enfolded in the embraces of Eu- 
 gene, who was anxiously awaiting their arrival. 
 With trembling steps and a throbbing heart, 
 Josephine, accompanied by her son and daugh- 
 ter, ascended the stairs to a small circular fam- 
 ily room where they expected to find Napoleon. 
 He was there with his brother Joseph. As his 
 wife and her children entered the room, Napo- 
 leon glanced sternly at them, and instantly saia 
 to Josephine, in a severe and commanding tone, 
 almost before she had crossed the threshold, 
 
 " Madame ! it is my wish that you retire im- 
 mediately to Malmaison." 
 
 Josephine came near falling lifeless upon the 
 floor. She was caught in the arms of Eugene, 
 wto, in the most profound grief, had kept near 
 the side of his revered and beloved mother. He 
 apported her fainting steps, as, sobbing with 
 anguish, she silently retired to her apartment. 
 Napoleon, greatly agitated, traversed the room 
 with hasty strides. The sight of Jceephino had
 
 154 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1799 
 
 Jo*phl'i prompt obedlme*. Napl*on r*let* 
 
 rekindled all his love, and he was struggling 
 with desperate efforts to cherish his sense of 
 wrong, and to fortify himself against any return 
 of clemency. 
 
 In a few moments, Josephine and Hortense, 
 with Eugene, were heard descending the stairs 
 to leave the house. It was midnight. For a 
 week Josephine had lived in her carriage almost 
 without food or sleep. Nothing but intensity 
 of excitement had prevented her from sinking 
 down hi utter weariness and exhaustion. It 
 was a drive of thirty miles to M almaison. Na- 
 poleon was not prepared for such prompt obe- 
 dience. Even his stern heart could not resist 
 its instinctive pleadings for his wife and her 
 daughter. He hastened from his room, and, 
 though his pride would not allow him directly 
 to urge Josephine to remain, he insisted upon 
 Eugene's returning, and urged it La iuoh a way 
 that he came back, leading with him his mother 
 ind his sister. Napoleon, however, addressed 
 not a word to either of them. Josephine threw 
 herself upon a couch hi her apartment, and Na- 
 poleon, in gloomy silence, entered his cabinet 
 Two days of wretchedness passed away, during 
 which no intercourse took place between th 
 estranged parties. But the anger of the ho*
 
 A.D 1799 | WIFE OP FIRST CONSUL. 157 
 
 The reconciliation. Napoleon Tanqulahert 
 
 band was gradually subsiding. Love for Jose- 
 phine was slowly gaining strength in his hart 
 On the third day, his pride and passion were 
 sufficiently subdued to allow him to enter the 
 apartment where Josephine and Hortense had 
 kept themselves secluded, awaiting his pleasure. 
 Josephine was seated at a toilet table, with her 
 face buried in her hands, and absorbed in the 
 profoundest grief. On the table were exposed 
 the letters which she had received from Napo- 
 leon during his absence, and which she had ev- 
 idently been reading. Hortense was standing 
 silently and pensively in an alcove by the win- 
 dow, half concealed by the curtain. Napoleon 
 advanced with an irresolute step, hesitated for 
 a moment, and then said, " Josephine !" She 
 started up at the sound of that well-known 
 voice, and, her beautiful countenance all suf- 
 fused with tears, mournfully exclaimed, " Mon 
 ami" in that peculiar tone, so pathetic, so mu 
 sical, which ever thrilled upon the heart of Na 
 ooleon. " My friend" was the term of endear 
 ment with which she invariably addressed ler 
 husband. Napoleon was vanquished. He ex 
 tended his hand to his deeply-wronged wife. 
 8he threw herself into his arms, pillowed her 
 aching head upon his bosom, and in the full new
 
 158 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1799 
 
 Reception of Napoleon on his return to Fruoa. 
 
 of blended joy and anguish wept convulsively 
 An explanation of several hours ensued. Everj 
 <jhade of suspicion was obliterated from his mind 
 He received Josephine again to his entire con- 
 fidence, and this confidence was never again in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 When Napoleon landed at Frejus, he wa re- 
 ceived with the most enthusiastic demonstra- 
 tion of delight. There was a universal im- 
 pression that the hero of Italy, the conqueror 
 of Egypt, had returned thus unexpectedly to 
 France for the accomplishment of some mag- 
 nificent enterprise ; yet no one knew what to 
 anticipate. The moment the frigate dropped 
 anchor in the bay, and it was announced that 
 Napoleon was on board, thousands surrounded 
 the vessel in boats, and the air was filled with 
 enthusiastic acclamations. His journey to Paris 
 was one continued scene of triumph. Crowds 
 gathered around him at every stopping-place, 
 intoxicated with joy. The bells rang their 
 merriest peals ; the booming of cannon echoed 
 along the bill sides, and brilliant bonfires by 
 night blazed upon every eminence. Upon his 
 arrival in Paris, the soldiers, recognizing their 
 leader in so many brilliant victories, greeted 
 him with indescribable enthusiasm, and oriec
 
 A.D.17yy.J WIFE OF Fiftsx CONSUL. 159 
 
 Ha vertkrir & Directory. JU U nutalMd by tka p*opW 
 
 of " Vive Bonaparte !" resounded through the 
 metropolis. His saloon, ever thronged with 
 generals and statesmen, and all who were most 
 illustrious in intellect and rank, resembled the 
 court of a monarch. Even the most prominent 
 men in the Directory, disgusted with the prog, 
 ress of measures which they could not control, 
 urged him to grasp the reins of power, assuring 
 him that there was no hope for France but in 
 his strong arm. In less than four weeks from 
 his arrival in Paris, the execrated government 
 was overturned. Napoleon, Si6yes, and Duoos 
 were appointed consuls, and twenty-five mem- 
 bers were appointed from each of the councils 
 to unite with the consuls in forming a new Con- 
 stitution. One unanimous voice of approval 
 ros from all parts of France in view of this 
 change. No political movement could take 
 place more strongly confirmed by the popular 
 will. Napoleon hastened from the scenes of 
 peril and agitation through which he had passed 
 in the accomplishment of this change, that he 
 might be the first to announce to Josephine the 
 political victory he had achieved. 
 
 During the perilous day, when, in the midst 
 of outcries, daggers, and drawn swords, he had 
 been contending with the Council of the Fiv
 
 160 JOSEPHINE. [AJD.179& 
 
 Painful iuspenw of Josephine. Napoleon reliere* It 
 
 Hundred, he could find not even one moment 
 to dispatch a note from St. Cloud to his wife. 
 The previous day he had kept her constantly 
 informed of the progress of events. Josephine 
 remained throughout the whole of the 19th of 
 November, from morning until evening, without 
 sight or tidings of her husband. She knew that, 
 in the fierce strife of parties in France, there 
 was no safety for life ; and when the darkness 
 of night settled down around her, and still no 
 word from her Napoleon, her anxiety amounted 
 almost to distraction. The rumbling of every 
 carriage upon the pavement every noise in the 
 streets aroused her hopes or her fears. Worn 
 out with anxiety, at midnight she threw herself 
 upon her bed, but not to sleep. Several weary 
 hours of suspense lingered slowly along, when, 
 at four o'clock in the morning, she heard the 
 well-known footsteps of her husband upon the 
 stairs. 
 
 She sprang to meet him. He fondly clasped 
 her in his arms, and assured her that he had 
 act spoken to a single individual since he had 
 taken the oaths of office, that the voice of hia 
 Josephine might be the first to congratulate him 
 upon hia virtual accession to the empire of 
 Prance. An animated conversation ensued,
 
 A.D. 1800.] WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 161 
 
 Hlf usurping ambition. Remark of the Abb* 81jret 
 
 and then Napoleon, throwing himself upon his 
 oouoh for a few moments' repose, gayly said, 
 " Good night, my Josephine ! to-morrow we 
 sleep in the Luxembourg." 
 
 The next day the three consuls met in Paris. 
 His colleagues, however, immediately perceived 
 that the towering ambition of Napoleon would 
 brook no rival. He showed them the absurdity 
 of their plans, and compelled them to assent to 
 the superior wisdom of his own. The untiring 
 vigor of his mind, the boldness and energy of 
 his thoughts, and his intuitive and almost mi- 
 raculous familiarity with every branch of polit- 
 ical science, overawed his associates, and the 
 whole power passed, with hardly the slightest 
 resistance, into his own hands. Immediately 
 after their first interview, the Abbe Si6yes, who 
 combined great weakness with extensive knowl- 
 edge, remarked to Talleyrand and others, " Gen- 
 tlemen, I perceive that we have got a master 
 Bonaparte can do and will do every thing him- 
 self. But," he continued, after a pause, "it is 
 better to submit than to protract dissensions 
 forever." 
 
 In this most astonishing revolution, thus sud 
 denly accomplished, and without the shedding 
 of a drop of blood, Napoleon was much indebted 
 
 1911
 
 JOSEPB'NE. (A.D 1800 
 
 JoMpblne Mcurei (Hend* to Napoleon. Residence at the Luxembourg 
 
 to he influence which his wife had exerted in 
 his behalf during his absence in Egypt. The 
 dinners she had given, the guests the had en- 
 tertained in her saloons evening after evening, 
 com sting of the most distinguished scholars, 
 and statesmen, and generals in the metropolis, 
 had contributed greatly to the popularity of her 
 husbav, d, and had surrounded him with devoted 
 friends. Napoleon ever acknowledged his obli- 
 gations to Josephine for the essential service 
 she had thus rendered him. 
 
 The next morning Napoleon and Josephine 
 removed ft,>m their elegant yet comparatively 
 plebeian residence in the Rue Chantereine to 
 the palace of the Luxembourg. This, however, 
 was but the stepping-stone to the Tuilleries, 
 the world-renowned abode of the monarohs of 
 France. The) remained for two months at the 
 Luxembourg. The energies of Napoleon were 
 employed every moment in promoting changes 
 in the internal affairs of France, which ever 
 his bitterest enemies admit were marked with 
 the most eminent wisdom and benevolence. 
 During the two months of their residence at 
 the Luxembourg, no domestic event of import- 
 ance occurred, except the marriage of Mural 
 with Caroline, the sister of Napoleon. Caroline
 
 A.D. 1800.J WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 163 
 
 Mirriage of Marat and Caroline. Tne Tnillene* ref urnUhod 
 
 was exceedingly beautiful. Murat was one of 
 the favorite aids of Bonapa/te. Their nuptial* 
 were celebrated with great splendor, and the gay 
 Parisians began again to be amused with some- 
 thing like the glitter of royalty. 
 
 Each day Napoleon became more popular 
 and his power more firmly established. Soon 
 all France was prepared to see the first consul 
 take up his residence in the ancient apartments 
 of the kings of France. The Tuilleries had 
 been sacked again and again by the mob. The 
 gorgeous furniture, the rich paintings, and all 
 the voluptuous elegance which the wealth of 
 Louis XIV. could create, had been thrown into 
 the court-yard and consumed by the infuriated 
 populace. Roy alty itself had been pursued and 
 ir suited in its most sacred retreats. 
 
 By slow and cautious advances, Napoleon 
 refurnished these magnificent saloons. The 
 emblems of Jacobin misrule were silently ef 
 faced. Statues of Brutus and Washington, of 
 Demosthenes, and of others renowned for illus- 
 trious deeds, were placed in the vacant niches, 
 and the Tuilleries again appeared resplendent 
 as in the days of pristine pride and power. 
 
 On the morning of the 19th of February, 
 1800, all Paris was in commotion to witness
 
 164 JOSEPHINE. [A D. 1800 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine take up their residence in the TniUeriei. 
 
 the transfer of the embryo court of the first 
 3onsul and his colleagues from the Luxembourg 
 to the Tuilleries. Already the colleagues of 
 Napoleon had become so entirely eclipsed by 
 the superior brilliance of their imperious asso- 
 oiate that their names were almost forgotten 
 I he royal apartments were prepared for Napo- 
 leon, while those in the Pavilion of Flora were 
 assigned to the two other consuls. The three 
 consuls entered a magnificent carriage, drawn 
 by six white horses. A gorgeous train of offi- 
 cers, with six thousand picked troops in the 
 richest uniform, surrounded the cortege. Many 
 of the long-abolished usages of royalty were 
 renewed upon that day. Twenty thousand 
 soldiers, in most imposing military array, were 
 drawn up before the palace. The moment the 
 carriage appeared, the very heavens seemed 
 rent with their cries, " Vive le premier consul !" 
 The two associate consuls were ciphers. They 
 sat at his side as pages to embellish his triumph. 
 This day placed Napoleon in reality upon the 
 throne of France, and Josephine that evening 
 moved, a queen, in the apartments hallowed 
 by the beauty and the sufferings of Maria An- 
 toinette. 
 
 The suite of rooms appropriated to the wif
 
 AD. 1800.J WIPE OF FIRST CONSUL. 165 
 
 Apartments of Josephine. Her drew. Her facial triumph 
 
 of the first consul consisted of two magnificent 
 saloons, with private apartments adjoining. No- 
 French monarch ever sauntered through a more 
 dazzling scene than that which graced the draw- 
 ing-rooms of Josephine on this occasion. Em- 
 bassadors from nearly all the courts of Europe 
 were present. The army contributed its ut- 
 most display of rank and military pomp to em- 
 bellish the triumph of its most successful gen- 
 eral. And the metropolis contributed all that 
 it still retained of brilliance in ancestral renown 
 or in intellectual achievement. 
 
 When Josephine entered the gorgeously-illu- 
 minated apartments of the palace, leaning upon 
 the arm of Talleyrand, and dressed in the ele- 
 gance of the most perfect simplicity, a murmur 
 of admiration arose from the whole assembly. 
 She was attired in a robe of white muslin. Her 
 hair fell in graceful ringlets upon her neck and 
 shoulders. A necklace of pearls of great value 
 completed her costume. The queenly elegance 
 of her figure, the inimitable grace of her move- 
 ments, the peculiar conversational tact she po^ 
 sessed, and the melody of a voice which, onoe 
 heard, never was forgotten, gave to Josephine, 
 on this eventful eveni>% a social triumph cor- 
 responding with tht tfhich Napoleon had r^
 
 166 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1800 
 
 J<wephlne tha Queen of Heart*. Her varied accomplUhmenta 
 
 oeived during the day. She entered the room* 
 to welcome her guests before her husband. As 
 *he made the tour of the apartments, supported 
 oy the minister, whose commanding figure tow- 
 ered above all the rest, she was first introduced 
 to the foreign embassadors, and then to othert 
 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 yearc 
 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- 
 tivated by the daily exercise of its rich endow- 
 ments, enabled her to pass from the circles of 
 fashion to the circles of science, from those wh
 
 /V.D.1800.J WlFB OF Fl*8T COJTSUL. 167 
 
 Symmetry of bar fora. Attrmc ttTeneu of bar canToratlo 
 
 thought only of the accomplishments of the per- 
 son to those who dwelt in the loftiest region* 
 of the intellect, and to be equally admired jy 
 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 aD 
 the varying emotions of the soul were unceas- 
 ingly beaming. No one probably ever possessed 
 in a higher degree this resistless charm of femi- 
 nine loveliness. Her eyes were of a deep blue, 
 and possessed a winning tenderness of expres- 
 sion when reposing upon those she loved which 
 could not be resisted. Napoleon, even when 
 most agitated by the conflicts of his stormy life, 
 waa 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 
 uparkling, flowing, musical words without feel- 
 ing the fascination of their strange melody
 
 168 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1800 
 
 Bweetnesi of Josephine's voice. Attractions of Malmaisoa 
 
 " The first applauses of the French people," 
 says Napoleon, " fell upon my ear sweet as the 
 voice of Josephine." 
 
 The rural charms of Malmaison, however, 
 exerted a more powerful sway over both the first 
 consul and his companion than the more splen- 
 did attractions of the Tuilleries. The Revolu- 
 tionary government had abolished the Sabbath, 
 and appointed every tenth day for rest and rec- 
 reation. Napoleon and Josephine habitually 
 spent this day at Malmaison. There, in the 
 retirement of green fields and luxuriant groves, 
 surrounded by those scenes of nature which had 
 peculiar charms for them both, they found that 
 quiet happiness which is in vain sought amid 
 the turmoil of the camp or the splendor of the 
 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
 
 \.D. 1800.] WIFE OF FIRST CONSUL. 169 
 
 The danger* of greatneM. Josephine's anxiety and caro 
 
 often said, with a sigh, " Now it is necessary 
 for us to go and put on again the yoke of mis- 
 ery." 
 
 The dangers of greatness soon began to hov- 
 er 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 escape* 
 which he had encountered. She also had large 
 and powerful dogs trained to guard the ground* 
 of Malmaison from any intrusion by night. 
 
 On the evening of the day when Napoleoo 
 made his entry into the Tuilleries, he remarked 
 to Bourrienne, "It is not enough to be in the
 
 70 JOSEPHINE. [AJX 1800 
 
 Remark of Napoleon to Bourrienne. 
 
 Tuilleries, we must take measures to remain 
 there. Who has not inhabited this palace ? It 
 has been the abode of robbers of the Conven- 
 tion. There is your brother's house, from which, 
 eight years ago, we saw the good Louis XVI. 
 besieged in the Tuilleries and carried off into 
 captivity. But you need not fear a repetition 
 of the scene. Let them attempt it with me if 
 they dare." To all the cautions of his anxious 
 wife respecting assassination, he ev-r quietly 
 replied, " My dear Josephine, they dare not
 
 A.D. 1800.] CUAKAOTER DEVELOPED. 171 
 
 Second Italian campaign. Its brilliant recnlto 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 DURING Napoleon's absence in Egypt the 
 Austrians had again invaded Italy. The 
 French troops had been beaten in many bat- 
 tles, and driven from vast extents of territory, 
 over which Napoleon had caused the flag of the 
 Republic to float in triumph. The first consul 
 having, with almost superhuman energy, ar- 
 ranged the internal affairs of his government, 
 now turned bis thoughts toward the defeated 
 armies of France, which had been driven back 
 into the fastnesses of the Alps. " I must go," 
 said he, " my dear Josephine. But I will not 
 forget you, and I will not be absent long." He 
 bade adieu to his wife at the Tuilleries on the 
 7th of May, 1800. At midnight of the 2d of 
 July he returned, having been absent less than 
 twr months. In that brief period he drove the 
 Austrian* from all their strongholds, regained 
 Italy, and by a campaign more brilliant than 
 any other which history has ever recorded, add- 
 ed immeasurably to his own moral powei. 
 These astonishing victories excited the Pari
 
 172 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1800 
 
 Napoleon'i desire to leare a name. A faithful correspondent 
 
 ians to a delirium of joy. Night after night the 
 streets were illuminated, and whenever Napo- 
 leon appeared, crowds thronged him, filling the 
 air with their acclamations. These triumphs, 
 however, instead of satisfying Napoleon, did but 
 add fuel to his all-absorbing ambition. " A few 
 more great events," said he, " like those of this 
 campaign, and I may really descend to posteri- 
 ty. But still it is little enough. I have con- 
 quered, it is true, in less than two years, Cairo, 
 Paris, Milan. But, were I to die to-morrow, 
 half a page of general history would, after ten 
 centuries, be all that would be devoted to my 
 exploits." 
 
 During his absence Josephine passed her 
 time at Malmaison. And it surely is indica- 
 tive not only of the depth of Napoleon's love for 
 Josephine, but also of his appreciation of those 
 delicate attentions which could touch the heart 
 of a loving wife, that in this busiest of cam 
 paigns, in which, by day and by night, he was 
 upon the horse's back, with hardly one moment 
 allowed for refreshment or repose, rarely did a 
 single day pass in which he did not transmit 
 some token of affection to Malmaison. Jose- 
 phine daily watched, with the most intense in- 
 terest the arrival of the courier with the brie/
 
 \.D.1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 173 
 
 Delicate attention* of Napoleon to Josephine. Her paitime*. 
 
 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 
 BO profound. 
 
 Josephine employed much of her time in su- 
 perintending those improvements which she 
 thought would please her husband on his re- 
 turn ; creating for him pleasant little surprises, 
 as she should guide his steps to the picturesque 
 walk newly opened, to the rustic bridge span- 
 ning the stream, to the rural pavilion, where, 
 in the evening twilight, they could commune. 
 She often rode on horseback with Hortense, 
 who was peculiarly fond of all those pleasure! 
 which had the concomitants of graceful display 
 
 After Napoleon's triumphant return from It
 
 174 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1800 
 
 Retirement at Malmaiion. Private theatrical* 
 
 aly, the visits to Malmaison were more frequent 
 than ever before. Napoleon and Josephine oft- 
 en spent several days there ; and in after years 
 they frequently spoke of these 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 
 throughout the whole household, for Napoleon, 
 as well as Josephine, secured the most devoted 
 attachment of all the servants. One of their fa 
 vorite amusements was family theatricals. Eu- 
 gene and Hortense took an active part in these 
 performances, in which both had talents to excel 
 
 But the favorite and most characteristic 
 amusement at Malmaison was the game of 
 "* Prisoners," a oermmon game among the school- 
 bo v of Prance, though comparatively little
 
 A I). 1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED 175 
 
 The gun* of " Prtionn." The mode of playing it 
 
 known in this country. The company is divi- 
 ded into two parties. Those who are appoint- 
 ed leaders choose each their respective sides 
 Bounds are assigned to each party, and a par- 
 ticular point as a fortress. If any one is caught 
 away from the fortress by one who left his own 
 station after the captive left the hostile fort, he 
 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 le-
 
 176 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1800 
 
 Napoleon'i favorite amusement He la no misanthrope 
 
 lighted to engage. After dinner, upon th 
 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. 1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 177 
 
 JoMphine'i expanalve bonerolenoe. 
 
 But the life of Josephine was not devoted to 
 amusement. While she entered with warmth 
 into these sports, being the soul of every festive 
 party, her heart was consecrated to the promo- 
 tion of happiness in every way in her power. 
 When a child, playing with the little negresse? 
 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 
 a prisoner, under sentence of death, by her 
 cheerfulness, her forgetfulness of self, and her 
 hourly deeds of delicate attention to others, she 
 became an object of universal love in those cells 
 of despair. When prosperity again dawned 
 upon her, and she was in the enjoyment of an 
 ample competence, every cottage in the vicinity 
 of Malmaison testified to her benevolence. And 
 now, when placed in a position of power, all her 
 influence was exerted to relieve the misfortunes 
 of those illustrious men whom the storms of 
 revolution had driven from their homes and from 
 France. She never forgot the unfortunate, but 
 devoted a considerable portion of her income 
 to the relief of the emigrants. She was at 
 times accused of extravagance. Her nature 
 van generous in the extreme, and the profusion 
 1912
 
 178 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1800 
 
 Josephine's unwearied exertion* In behalf of tha emigrant*. 
 
 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 laws 
 had fallen with fearful severity upon all the 
 members of the ancient aristocracy and all the 
 friends of royalty. The cause of these victims 
 of anarchy Josephine was ever ready to espouse 
 
 A noble family by the name of Deorest had
 
 A.D.1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED 179 
 
 fhe Marquis of DeerMt Accidental death sf hl wm 
 
 been indebted to the interposition of the wife of 
 the first consul for their permission to return to 
 France. As nearly all their property had disap- 
 peared during their exile, Josephine continued 
 to befriend them with her influence and her 
 purse. On the evening of a festival day, a 
 grand display of fire-works was exhibited on 
 tke banks of the Seine. A rocket, misdirected, 
 struck a son of the marquis on the breast, and 
 instantly killed him. The young man, who 
 was on the eve of his 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 afflictive bereavement. The father aban- 
 doned himself to all the delirium of inconsolable 
 grief, and was so utterly lost in the depths of 
 despair, that it was feared his mind would nev- 
 er again recover its tone. The Duke of Or- 
 leans was grand-uncle of the young man who 
 was killed, and Madame Montesson, the moth* 
 or of Louis Philippe, sent for her distressed rel- 
 atives that she might administer to their conso- 
 lation All her endeavors, however, were en- 
 tirely unavailing. 
 
 In the midst of this afflictive scene, Josephine 
 aaterd the saloop of Madame Montesson. Her
 
 180 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1800 
 
 focephlne ureitt the grief of Decrert. Her tenderae** 
 
 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 
 oare, 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 
 to live. These children have claims upon me, 
 tnd I must no longer yield to despair." A lady 
 who was present on this occasion says, " I wit- 
 nessed this scene, and shall never forget it. 
 The wife of the first consul expressed, in lan- 
 guage which I will not attempt to imitate, all 
 that tenderness which the maternal bosom alone 
 knows. She was the very image of a minis- 
 tering angel, for the touching charm of her 
 voice and look pertained more to heaven than 
 to earth." Josephine had herself seen days as 
 dark as could lower over a mortal's path. Love 
 for her children was then the only tie which 
 bound her to life. In those days of anguih she
 
 A.D 1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 181 
 
 rbe Infernal Machine. It* power. Horteun wounded 
 
 .earned the only appeal which, under these cir 
 eumstances, could touch a despairing fatherV 
 heart. 
 
 Several conspiracies were formed about thi 
 tune against the life of the first consul. That 
 of the Infernal Machine was one of the most 
 desperate, reckless, and atrocious which histo *y 
 has recorded. On the evening of December 24, 
 1800, Napoleon was going to the opera. Three 
 gentlemen were with him in his carriage. Jo- 
 sephine, with Hortense and one or two others, 
 followed in another carriage. In passing from 
 the Tuilleries to the theater, it was necessary 
 to pass through the narrow street St. Nicaire. 
 A cart, apparently by accident overturned, ob- 
 structed the passage. The coachman, howev- 
 er, who was driving his horses very rapidly, 
 crowded his way by. He had barely passed 
 the cart when a terrific explosion took place, 
 which was heard all over Paris. Eight persons 
 were instantly killed and more than sixty 
 wounded. Some of the houses in the vicinity 
 were nearly blown down. The windows of bcth 
 the carriages were shattered, and Hortense waa 
 ulightly wounded by the broken glass. Napo- 
 leon drove ou to the opera, where he found the 
 tudianoe in the utmost consternation, for th
 
 182 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1800 
 
 Napoleon proceed! to the opart. Narrow ucape of Josephine 
 
 explosion had shaken the whole city. He en- 
 tered with a countenance as perfectly calm and 
 untroubled as if nothing unusual had occurred. 
 Every eye was fixed upon him. As soon aa it 
 was perceived that his person was safe, thun- 
 ders of applause shook the walls of the theate-i . 
 On every side Napoleon was greeted with the 
 most devoted expressions of attachment. Soon 
 Josephine came in, pale and trembling, and, 
 after remaining half an hour, they both retired 
 to the Tuilleries. Napoleon found the palace 
 crowded with all the public functionaries of 
 Paris, who had assembled to congratulate him 
 upon his escape. 
 
 The life of Josephine was saved on this oc- 
 casion by apparently the merest accident. She 
 had recently received a magnificent shawl, a 
 present from Constantinople, and was preparing 
 to wear it that evening for the first time. Na- 
 poleon, however, in playful criticism, condemned 
 the shawl, remarking upon its pattern and its 
 color, and commending one which he deemed 
 far more beautiful. "You are a bold man," 
 said Josephine, smiling, " in venturing to oriti- 
 oise my toilette. I shall take my revenge in 
 giving you a lesson how to attack a redoubt 
 However," she continued, turning to one of her
 
 A..D. 1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 183 
 
 Treachery of th Roy alUtt FoacM, 
 
 attendant*, "bring me the general's favorite 
 I will wear that." A delay of a few momenta 
 was caused in exchanging the shawls. In the 
 mean time, Napoleon, with his friends, entered 
 his carriage and drove on. Josephine soon fol- 
 lowed. She had but just entered the street 
 when the explosion took place. Had she fol- 
 lowed, as usual, directly behind Napoleon, her 
 death would have been almost inevitable. 
 
 It was subsequently ascertained, greatly tc 
 he surprise of Napoleon and of all Europe, that 
 *,he Royalists were the agents in this conspiracy. 
 Napoleon had been their benefactor, and while 
 he knew it to be impossible to replace the Bour- 
 bons upon the throne of France, he did every 
 thing in his power to mitigate the misfortunes 
 which Jacobin violence had inflicted upon their 
 friends. The first consul made no 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. Fouoh6, whom 
 Bonaparte disliked exceedingly for his inhuman 
 deeds during the Revolution, was the Minister 
 of Police. Upon him mainly devolved the trial 
 and the punishment of the accused. Josephine
 
 184 JOSEPHINE. (A.D.1800 
 
 Josephine'i letter to the Minister of Police. 
 
 immediately wrote a letter to Fouohe, most 
 strikingly indicative of the benevolence of her 
 aoble heart, and of that strength of mind which 
 sould understand that the claims of justice musl 
 aot pass unheeded. 
 
 " CITIZEN-MINISTER, While I yet tremble al 
 the frightful event which has just occurred, 1 
 am disquieted and distressed through fear of the 
 punishment necessarily to be inflicted on tht 
 guilty, who belong, it is said, to families with 
 whom I once lived in habits of intercourse. I 
 shall be solicited by mothers, sisters, and dis- 
 consolate wives ; and my heart will be broken 
 through my inability to obtain all the mercy for 
 which I would plead. 
 
 " I know that the clemency of the first con- 
 sul is great, his attachment to me extreme ; 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 i* 
 that which will render him severe inflexible 
 [ conjure you, therefore, to do all in your powei 
 to prevent inquiries being pushed too far. Do 
 not detect all those persons who may have been 
 accomplices in these odious transactions. Let 
 not France, so long overwhelmed in oonsterna 
 tion by public executions, groan anew benoatb
 
 A..D. 1800.] CHARACTER DEVELOPER 18fl 
 
 Bhe plead) for lenity In behalf of the guilty. 
 
 such inflictions. It is even better to endeavoi 
 to soothe 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 
 the life of my husband, precious to me and to 
 France. On this account, do, I entreat you, 
 make a wide distinction between the authors of 
 the crime and those who, through weakness or 
 fear, have consented to take a part therein. A 
 a woman, a wife, and a mother, I must feel the 
 heart-rendings of those who will apply to me,
 
 186 JOSEPHINE [AD. 1800 
 
 Character of Lonig Napoleon. 
 
 \ot, citizen minister, in such a manner that the 
 aumber of these may be lessened This will 
 spare me much grief. Never will I turu away 
 from the supplications of misfortune. But in the 
 present instance you can do infinitely more than 
 J, and you will, on this account, excuse my im- 
 portunity Rely on my gratitude and esteem." 
 Hortense was now eighteen years of age 
 Louis Napoleon, brother of the first consul, was 
 twenty-four. The plan was formed by Napo- 
 leon and Josephine of uniting them in marriage. 
 Louis was a studious, imaginative, pensive man, 
 with no taste for the glitter and pomp of fashion, 
 and with a decided aversion to earth's noisy 
 ambition. He loved communing with his own 
 thoughts, the falling leaf, the sighing wind the 
 fireside with its books, its solitude, its sacred so- 
 ciety of one or two congenial friends. He be- 
 longed to that class of men, always imbued with 
 deep feeling, whose happiness is only found in 
 those hallowed affections which bind kindred 
 hearts in congenial pursuits and joys. As Napo- 
 leon was riding triumphantly upon his war-horse 
 over the Austrian squadrons in Italy, achieving 
 those brilliant victories which paved his way to 
 the throne of France, Louis, then a young man 
 Hut nineteen years of age, met in Paris' a young
 
 A..D 1801.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 187 
 
 Ha U disappointed In lore. Napoleon trlei to heal the wound 
 
 lady, the daughter of an emigrant noble, for whom 
 he formed a strong attachment, and his whole 
 soul became absorbed in the passion of love. Na- 
 poleon was informed of this attachment, and, ap 
 prehensive that the alliance of his brother with 
 one of the old Royalist families might endanger 
 his own ambitious projects, he sent him away on 
 a military commission, and with his inflexible 
 will and strong arm broke off the connection. 
 The young lady was soon afterward married to 
 another gentleman, and poor Louis was plunged 
 into depths of disappointment and melancholy, 
 from whence he never emerged. Life was ever 
 after to him but a cloudy day, till, with a grief- 
 worn spirit, he sank into the grave. 
 
 Napoleon, conscious of the wound he had in- 
 flicted upon his sensitive brother, endeavored, in 
 various ways, to make amends. There was very 
 much in his gentle, affectionate, and fervent spir- 
 it to attract the tender regard of Napoleon, and 
 he ever after manifested toward him a disposi- 
 tion of peculiar kindness. It was long before 
 Louis would listen to the proposition of his mar- 
 riage with Hortense. His affections still clung, 
 though hopelessly, yet so tenaciously to the lost 
 object of his idolatry, that he could not think, 
 without pain, of his union with another More
 
 188 JOSEPHINE. [A .D. 1801 
 
 Character of Hortense. She is married to Loni* 
 
 uncongenial nuptials could hardly have been 
 imagined. Hortense was a beautiful, merry, 
 thoughtless girl amiable, but very fond of ex- 
 citement and display. In the ball-room, the 
 theater, and other places of brilliant entertain- 
 ment, she found her chief pleasures. In addi- 
 tion to this incongruity, she was already in love 
 with the handsome Duroc, the favorite aid of 
 Napoleon. It is not strange that such a young 
 lady should have seen as little to fancy in the 
 disappointed and melancholy Louis as he could 
 see attractive in one who lived but for the pa- 
 geantry of the passing hour. Thus both parties 
 were equally averse to the match. The tact of 
 Josephine, however, and the power of Napoleon 
 combined, soon overcame all obstacles, and the 
 mirth-loving maiden and the pensive scholar 
 were led to their untoward nuptials. Hortense 
 became more easily reconciled to the match, as 
 her powerful father promised, in consequence of 
 this alliance, to introduce her to seats of gran 
 deur where all her desires should be gratified. 
 Louis, resigning himself to any lot in a world 
 which had no further joy in store for him, suf- 
 fered himself to be conducted submissively tc 
 the altar. 
 
 At the f6te given in honor of this marriage,
 
 A..D.1801 'JHARACTER DEVELOPED. 18S 
 
 AB uncongenial union. Marriage of Duroc, 
 
 the splendors of ancient royalty seemed to be re- 
 vived. But every eye could see the sadness of 
 the newly-married bride beneath the profusion 
 of diamonds and flowers with which she waa 
 tdorned. Louis Napoleon, the present President 
 tf the French Republic, is the only surviving off- 
 spring of this uncongenial union. 
 
 The gay and handsome Duroc, who had been 
 the accepted lover of Hortense, was soon after 
 married to an heiress, who brought him, with an 
 immense fortune, a haughty spirit and an irri- 
 table temper, which embittered all his days. 
 The subsequent life of Hortense presents one of 
 the most memorable illustrations of the insufli 
 oiency of human grandeur to promote happiness 
 Josephine witnessed with intense solicitude the 
 utter want of congeniality existing between 
 them, and her heart often bled as she saw alien 
 ation growing stronger and stronger, until it re- 
 sulted in an entire separation. Hortense mighi 
 easily have won and retained the affections ol 
 the pensive out warm-hearted Louis, had she 
 followed tl-.e counsels of her noble mother. Jo- 
 sephine, herself the almost perfect model of a 
 wife, was* well qualified to give advice in such a 
 case. The following letter, written to Hortense 
 some time before her separation from Louis, ex-
 
 190 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1801 
 
 Letter from Josephine to Hortense. 
 
 hibits in a most amiable light the character of 
 Josephine. 
 
 To Queen Hortense. 
 
 " What I learned eight days ago gave me th 
 greatest pain. What I observe to-day confirms 
 and augments my sorrow. Why show to Louis 
 this repugnance ? Instead of rendering him more 
 ungracious still by caprice, by inequality of char 
 acter, why do you not rather make efforts to sur- 
 mount your indifference ? But you will say, he 
 is not amiable ! All that is relative. If not in 
 your eyes amiable, he may appear so to others, 
 and all women do not view him through the me- 
 dium of dislike. As for myself, who am here 
 altogether disinterested, I imagine that I behold 
 him as he is, more loving, doubtless, than lov~ 
 able, but this is a great and rare quality. He 
 is generous, beneficent, feeling, and, above all, 
 an excellent father. If you so willed, he would 
 prove a good husband. His melancholy, his love 
 of study and retirement, injure him in your es- 
 timation. For these, I ask you, is he to blame t 
 Is he obliged to conform his nature to circum- 
 stances ? Who could have predicted to him hia 
 fortune ? But, according to you, he has not even 
 the courage to bear that fortune. This, I believe.
 
 A.D. 1801.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 191 
 
 She adriMt Horteiue to be more kind to Lcraii. 
 
 ia an error ; but he certainly wants the strength. 
 With his ascetic inclinations, his invincible de- 
 *ire of retirement and study, he finds himself 
 misplaced in the elevated rank to which he has 
 Attained. You desire that he should imitate 
 his brother. Give him, first of a 1 !, the same tem- 
 perament. You have not failed to remark that 
 almost our entire existence depends upon our 
 health, and that upon our digestion. Let poor 
 Louis digest better, and you would find him more 
 amiable. But, such as he is, there can be no rea- 
 son for abandoning him, or making him feel the 
 unbecoming sentiments with which he inspires 
 you. Do you, whom I have seen so kind, con- 
 tinue to be so at the moment when it is precise- 
 ly more than ever necessary. Take pit) on a 
 man who has to lament that he possesses what 
 would constitute another's happiness ; and, be- 
 fore condemning him, think of others who, Uki 
 him, have groaned beneath the burden of theii 
 greatness, and bathed with their tears that dia- 
 dem which they believed had never been ds 
 tined for then* brow." 
 
 This, surely, was admirable counsel, and, had 
 Hortense followed it, she would have saved her 
 self many a long year of loneliness and anguish 
 But the impetuous and thoughtless bride coulc
 
 192 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1801 
 
 Dnhappy disposition of Lent*. Error* of Hortttnoe 
 
 not repress the repugnance with which she re- 
 garded the cold exterior and the exacting love of 
 her husband. Louis demanded from her a sin- 
 gleness and devotedness of affection which wa* 
 unreasonable. He wished to engross all he; 
 faculties of loving. He desired that every pas- 
 sion of her soul should be centered in him, an<? 
 was jealous of any happiness she found except- 
 ing that which he could give. He was even 
 troubled by the tender regard with which she 
 cherished her mother and her brother, consider- 
 ing all the love she gave to them as so much 
 withheld from him. Hortense was passionately 
 f ^ of music and of painting. Louis almost 
 forbade her the enjoyment of those delightfu. 
 aocomplishments, thinking that she pursued 
 them with a heartfelt devotion inconsistent with 
 that supreme love with which she ought to re- 
 gard her husband. Hortense, proud and high- 
 spirited, would not submit to such tyranny 
 She resisted and retaliated. She became, con- 
 sequently, wretched, and her husband wretch- 
 ed, and discord withered all the joys of home 
 At last, the union of such discordant spirits be- 
 came utterly insupportable. They separated. 
 The story of their domestic quarrel* ribratccJ 
 upon the ear of Europe. Louis wandered here
 
 A..D 1801.) CHARACTER KEVELOPED. 193 
 
 HappinaM to which he might have attained. 
 
 and there, joyless and sad, till, weary of a mis- 
 erable life, alone and friendless, he died. Hor- 
 tense retired, with a restless and suffering 
 heart, to the mountains of Switzerland, where, 
 in a secluded castle, she lingered out the re- 
 'maining years of her sorrowful pilgrimage. It 
 was an unfortunate match. Having been made, 
 the only possible remedy was in pursuing the 
 course which Josephine so earnestly recom- 
 mended. Had Josephine been married to Lou- 
 is, she would have followed the course she coun- 
 seled her daughter to pursue. She would have 
 leaned fondly upon his arm in his morning and 
 evening walks. She would have cultivated a 
 lively interest in his reading, his studies, and 
 all his quiet domestic pleasures. She would, 
 as far as possible, have relinquished every pur- 
 suit which could by any possibility have caused 
 him pain. Thus she would have won his love 
 and his admiration. Every day her power over 
 him would have been increasing. Gradually 
 her influence would have molded his character 
 to a better model. He would have become 
 proud of his wife. He would have leaned upon 
 her arm. He would have been supported by 
 her affection and her intellectual strength. He 
 Won id have become more cheerful in character 
 1913
 
 194 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1S01 
 
 The spirit if Josephine. Character of Uorten*e> 
 
 and resolute in purpose. Days of tranquillity 
 and happiness would have embellished theii 
 dwelling. The spirit of Josephine ! It is noble 
 as well as lovely. It accomplishes the most ex- 
 alted achievements, and diffuses the most enno- 
 bling happiness. There are thousands of unicna 
 as uncongenial as that of Hortense and Louis. 
 From the woes such unions would naturally 
 engender there is but one refuge, and Josephine 
 has most beautifully shown what that refuge is. 
 Hortense, proud and high -spirited, resolved that 
 she would not submit to the exacting demands 
 of her husband. In her sad fate we read the 
 warning not to imitate ner example. 
 
 Hortense is invariably described as an un- 
 usually fascinating woman. She had great 
 vivacity of mind, and displayed much brilliance 
 of conversational powers. Her person was fine- 
 ly formed, and she inherited much of that grace- 
 ful demeanor which so signally characterized 
 her mother. She was naturally amiable, and 
 was richly endowed with all those accomplish- 
 ments which enable one to excel in the art of 
 pleasing. Louis, more than any other of th 
 brothers, most strongly resembled Napoleon. 
 He was a very handsome man, and possessed 
 far more than ordinary abilities. Under lean
 
 A.D. 1801.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 195 
 
 Calumnies againit Napoleon. They fall In their effect 
 
 nntoward circumstances he might have been 
 eminently happy. Few persons, however, have 
 journeyed along the path of life under a darker 
 eloud than that which ever shed its gloom upon 
 the footsteps of Louis and Hortense. 
 
 Among the various attempts which had been 
 made to produce alienation between Napoleon 
 and Josephine, one of the most atrocious was 
 the whispered insinuation that the strong affec- 
 tion which the first consul manifested for Hor 
 tense was a guilty passion. Napoleon exhibit- 
 ed in the most amiable manner his qualities as 
 a father, in the frequent correspondence he car- 
 ried on with the two children of Josephine, in 
 the interest he took in their studies, and in the 
 solicitude he manifested to promote their best 
 welfare. He loved Hortense as if she had been 
 his own child. Josephine was entirely impreg- 
 nable against any jealousy to be introduced from 
 that quarter, and a peaceful smile was her oniy 
 reply to all such insinuations. Hortense had 
 also heard, and had utterly disregarded, these 
 rumors. The marriage of Hortense to a brother 
 of Napoleon had entirely silenced the calumny, 
 and it was soon forgotten. 
 
 Subsequently, when Hortense had become en- 
 tirely alienated from her husband, and was re
 
 i96 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1801 
 
 Cn}ut remarki of Horten*e. JoMphine'i reply 
 
 solved upon a separation, Josephine did every 
 thing in her power to dissuade her from an act 
 o rash, so disgraceful , so ruinous to her happi- 
 ness. She wrote to her in terms of the most 
 earnest entreaty. The self-willed queen, an 
 ooyed by these remonstrances, and unable to re- 
 ply to them, ventured to intimate to her mother 
 that perhaps she was not entirely disinterested 
 in her opposition. In most guarded terms she 
 suggested that her mother had heard the ground- 
 less accusation of Napoleon's undue fondness, 
 and that it was possible that her strong opposi- 
 tion to the separation of Hortense from her hus- 
 band might originate in the fear that Hortense 
 might become, in some degree, her rival in the 
 affections of Napoleon. Josephine very prompt- 
 ly and energetically replied, 
 
 " You have misunderstood me entirely, my 
 child. There is nothing equivocal in my words, 
 as there can not exist an uncandid sentiment in 
 my heart. How could you imagine that I could 
 participate in opinions so ridiculous and so mali- 
 cious ? No, Hortense, you do not think that I 
 believe you to be my rival. We do, indeed, both 
 reign in the same heart, though by very differ- 
 ent, yet by equally sacred rights. And they 
 who, in the affection which my husband mini
 
 A.D. 1801.] CHARACTER DEVELOPED. 197 
 
 The lore of f lory Htpolaon'i rnllag pacdoa. 
 
 fests for you, have pretended to discover other 
 sentiments than those of a parent and a friend 
 know not his soul. His mind is too elevated 
 above that of the vulgar to be ever accessible tc 
 unworthy passions. The passion of glory, if 
 yon will, engrosses him too entirely for our re- 
 pose ; but glory, at least, inspires nothing which 
 is vile. Such is my profession of faith respect- 
 ing N apoleon. I make this confession to you in 
 all sincerity, that I may allay your inquietudes. 
 When I recommended you to love, or, at least, 
 not to repulse Louis, I spoke to you in my char- 
 acter of an experienced wife, an attentive moth- 
 er, and a tender friend, and in this threefo d re 
 'ation do I now embrace you."
 
 198 JOSEPHINE. [A. D. 1802. 
 
 |o*ephiite and Napoleon Yi*lt '^yon* Josephine makes new Mend* 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE CORONATION. 
 
 EARLY in the year 1802 Josephine aooom. 
 panied Napoleon in various excursions tc 
 distant parts of the empire. She went with 
 him to Lyons to meet the Italian deputies, whc 
 had assembled there to confer upon him the 
 dignity of President of the Cisalpine Republic 
 The entertainments in Lyons upon this oooa 
 gion were arranged with regal magnificence 
 Josephine, by her grace and affability, secured 
 universal admiration, and every tongue was 
 eloquent in her praises. Each succeeding month 
 seemed now to bring some new honor to Jose- 
 phine. Her position as wife of the first consul, 
 her known influence over her husband, and the 
 almost boundless popularity he had acquired 
 over the minds of his countrymen, who were 
 ever conducting him by rapid strides to new 
 accessions of power, surrounded her with mul- 
 titudes striving in every way to ingratiate them 
 selves into her favor. 
 
 From Lyons they returned to their beloved
 
 A.D.1802.] THE CORONATION. 199 
 
 R*tarm to MalmaUon. AnMdota of the writing- muter 
 
 retreat at Malmaison, vhere they passed sev- 
 eral weeks. But place and power had already 
 deprived them of retirement. Napoleon wai 
 entirely engrossed with his vast projects of am- 
 bition. The avenue to their rural mansion was 
 unceasingly thronged with carriages, and the 
 saloon of Josephine was ever filled with the 
 most illustrious guests. 
 
 One day Josephine happened to be hi the 
 cabinet with her husband alone. A man, whose 
 coat was much the worse for wear, and whose 
 whole appearance presented many indications 
 of the struggle with poverty, was ushered into 
 the room. He appeared greatly embarrassed- 
 and at length, with much confusion, introduced 
 himself as the writing-master at Brienne who 
 had taught the first consul hand- writing. " And 
 a fine penman you made of me !" exclaimed Na- 
 poleon, hi affected anger. " Ask my wife there 
 what she thinks of my writing." The poor 
 man stood trembling in trepidation, when Jose- 
 phine looked up with one of her sweetest smile*. 
 nd said, " I assure you, sir, his letters are per- 
 'ectly delightful." Napoleon laughed at the 
 well-timed compliment, and settled upon the 
 writing-master a small annuity for life. It was 
 a noble trait in the character of the first consul
 
 200 JOSEPHINE. [A. D 1802 
 
 Tour of the northern prorlnoet Enthu*Um of the peopla 
 
 that in his days of power he was ever mindful 
 of those who were the friends of his early years. 
 A.11 the instructors of the school he attended at 
 Brienne were thus remembered by him. 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine now made the tour 
 of the northern provinces of France. They 
 were every where -eceived with unbounded en 
 thusiasm. The first consul had, indeed, con 
 ferred the greatest blessings on his country 
 He had effectually curbed the RevolutionarJ 
 fury. He had established the reign of law 
 Thousands of exiles he had restored to their 
 homes rejoicing. The discomfited armies of 
 France he had led to new and brilliant victo- 
 ries. Under his administration every branch 
 of business had revived. From every part of 
 the empire Napoleon received the most enthu 
 siastio expressions of gratitude and attachment 
 He now began more seriously to contemplate 
 ascending the throne of France. Conscious jf 
 his own power, and ambitious of the glory of 
 elevating his country to the highest pinnacle of 
 earthly greatness, and witnessing the enthusi' 
 *sm of admiration which his deeds had excited 
 in the public mind, he no longer doubted that 
 his countrymen would soon be ready to place 
 the scepter of empire in his hands. He thought 
 that the pear was now tioe.
 
 A.D- 1802 ] THE CORONATION. 201 
 
 Joeephlne erer tolidtoiu In behalf of the ccunfort of 
 
 Josephine ever enjoyed most highly accom- 
 panying her husband on these tours, and she, 
 on suoh occasions, manifested, in the most at- 
 tractive manner, her readiness to sacrifice her 
 iwn personal comfort to promote the happiness 
 >f others. Napoleon was in the habit of moving 
 with such rapidity, and of setting out so unex- 
 pectedly upon these journeys, and he was so per- 
 emptory in his injunctions as to the places where 
 he intended to halt, that often no suitable accom- 
 modations could be provided for Josephine and 
 her attendant ladies. No complaint, however, 
 was ever heard from her lips. No matter how 
 great the embarrassment she encountered, she 
 ever exhibited the same imperturbable cheerful- 
 ness and good humor. She always manifested 
 much more solicitude in reference to the accom- 
 modation of her attendants than for her own com- 
 fort. She would herself visit their apartments, 
 and issue personal directions to promote their 
 convenience. One night, just as she was about 
 to retire to rest, she observed that her waiting- 
 woman had but a single mattress, spread upon 
 the floor, for her repose. She immediately, with 
 her own hands, took from the bed destined for 
 herself another mattress, and supplied the defi- 
 ciency, that her waiting-woman might sleep
 
 202 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1802 
 
 BeMvolence cf Josephine' heart. The palace of SL 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 
 ont before her, would select delicacies which 
 might excite a failing appetite. It often hap- 
 pened, in these sudden and hasty journeys, that, 
 from want of accommodation, some of the party 
 were compelled to remain in the carriages while 
 Napoleon and Josephine dined. In such cases 
 they were never forgotten. This was not policy 
 and artifice on the part of Josephine, but the in- 
 stinctive dictates of a heart overflowing with be- 
 nevolence. 
 
 On Napoleon's return from this tour he took 
 possession of the palace of St. Cloud. This was 
 another step toward the throne of the Bourbons. 
 This magnificent abode of ancient grandeur had 
 been repaired and most gorgeously furnished. 
 The versatile French, weary of Republican sim- 
 plicity, witnessed with joy the indications of a 
 return of regal magnificence. A decree alec 
 granted to Josephine " four ladies, to assist het 
 in doing the honors of the palace." No occupant 
 of these splendid saloons ever embellished them 
 more richly by the display of queenly graces than
 
 A.D. 1802.] THE CORONATION 203 
 
 Kapoleon's rlewi of Christianity. Striking r. mark* 
 
 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 
 ne was walking upon the terrace of his garden 
 at Malmaison, most earnestly conversing with 
 some influential members of the government 
 upon this subject. 
 
 " Religion," said he, " is something which can 
 not be eradicated from the heart of man. He 
 must believe in a superior being. Who made 
 all that ?" he continued, pointing to the star* 
 brilliantly shining in the evening sky. " Last 
 Sunday evening J was walking here alone, when 
 the church bells of the village of Ruel rang at 
 sunset. 1 was strongly moved, so vividly did 
 the image of early days come back with that
 
 SS04 JOSEPHINE. [AJX 1802 
 
 of Jowphlne In the re-eUbU8hment of OhrUtianity. 
 
 sound. If it be thus with me, what must it be 
 with others? Let your philosophers answer 
 that, if they can. It is absolutely indispensable 
 to have a religion for the people. In re-estab- 
 lishing Christianity, I consult the wishes of a 
 great majority of the French nation." 
 
 Josephine probably had very little religious 
 knowledge. She regarded Christianity as a sen- 
 timent rather than a principle. She felt the po- 
 etic beauty of its revelations and its ordinances. 
 She 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 sbA 
 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 Franc* 
 the religion of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The next morning after the issuing of the 
 proclamation announcing the re-establishment 
 of public worship, a grand religious ceremony 
 took place in honr r 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. 5J08 
 
 Religious ceremony at NOtre Dame. Proclamation of Napoleon. 
 
 preparing to go to the Cathedral, one of his col- 
 leagues, Cambaoeres, entered the room. 
 
 <f Well," said the first consul, rubbing hii 
 hand* in fine spirits, " we go to church thin 
 moiB ing ; 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 
 onsul 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 ah 1 those pious solemni- 
 ties ceased in which the citizens called eaok
 
 206 JOSEPHINE [A D 1802 
 
 Christian charity recommended. Triumph of Christianity 
 
 other by the endearing name of brothers, and 
 acknowledged their common equality in the 
 sight of Heaven. The dying, left alone in hie 
 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 iu love to your coun- 
 try and respect for its laws ; and, above all, 
 never permit disputes on doctrinal points to 
 weaken that universal charity which religion 
 at once inculcates and commands." 
 
 This, surely, is a great triumph of Christian- 
 ity. A man like Napoleon, even though not at 
 the time a believer in its divine origin, was so 
 perfectly satisfied of its beneficial influence upon 
 mankind, that, as a matter of state policy, he 
 felt compelled to reinstate its observances. 
 
 Josephine cherished emotions of the deepest 
 gratitude toward all those who had proved
 
 A..D.1800.] THE CORONATION. 27 
 
 Madame Tallien dUliked by Napoleon. DUsipation in Pari* 
 
 friendly to her in the days of her adversity 
 Napoleon, with his strong prejudices, often took 
 a dislike to those whom Josephine loved. Ma 
 dame Tallien, the companion of Josephine in 
 her captivity and her benefactor after her re- 
 tease, was, for some unknown reason, peculiarly 
 obnoxious to Napoleon. She was extremely 
 beautiful and very ambitious, and her exclusion 
 from the splendors of the new court, now daily 
 becoming more brilliant, mortified her exceed- 
 ingly. Josephine also was greatly troubled. 
 She could not disregard the will of her husband, 
 and her heart recoiled from the thought of in- 
 gratitude 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, accompanied 
 by Eugene, occasionally looked in upon the 
 lancers at the masked balls. On one of these
 
 208 JOSEPHIKB. [A.D. 1800 
 
 tncidnnt at muked ball JtMephlne and Madame Talllna 
 
 occasions a noble lady witnessed an incident 
 which she has recorded in the following words : 
 "C-hance rendered me witness of a singula? 
 wene 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, 
 and, refreshed by the cool air, was about to de- 
 scend, when the sound of voices in tb*> adjoining 
 rx>m, in earnest conversation, caught my at- 
 tention. Applying my ear to the partition, the 
 name of Bonaparte, and the discovery that Jo- 
 sephine and Madame Tallien were the speak- 
 ers, excited a real curiosity. " I assure you, 
 my dear Theresina," said Josephine, " that I 
 have done all that friendship could dictate, but 
 in vain No later than this morning I made a 
 new effort. Bonaparte would hear of nothing. 
 I can not comprehend what can have prejudiced 
 him so strongly against you. You are the only 
 woman whose name he has effaced from the list 
 of my particular friends ; and from fear le?t he 
 should manifest his displeasure directly against 
 us have I now come hither alone with my son. 
 At this moment they believe me sound asleep 
 in my bed at the Tuilleries ; but I determined 
 on coming to see, to warn, and to console yen 
 x above all, to justify myself"
 
 A.D. 1800.] THE CORONATION. 209 
 
 The ttolen interview. Eugene 'titerrupU IV 
 
 " My dear Josephine," Madame Tallien re- 
 plied, "I have never doubted either the good- 
 ness of your heart or the sincerity of your af- 
 fection. Heaven is my witness that the los 
 of your friendship would be to me much more 
 painful than any dread of Bonaparte. In thase 
 difficult times, I have maintained a conduct that 
 might, perhaps, render my visits an honor, but 
 I will never importune you to receive me with- 
 out his consent. He was not consul when Tal- 
 lien followed him into Egypt, when I received 
 you both into my house, when I shared with 
 you " Here she burst into tears, and her 
 voice became inaudible. 
 
 " Calm yourself, my dear Theresina," Jose- 
 phine rejoined ; "be calm, and let the storm 
 pass. I am paving the way for a reconcilia- 
 tion, but we must not irritate him more. You 
 know that he does not love Ouvrard, and it i 
 Raid that he often sees you." 
 
 " What, then," Madame Tallien replied. 
 " because he governs France, does he expect to 
 tyrannize over our hearts ? Must we sacrifiot 
 to him our private friendships ?" 
 
 At that moment some one knocked at the 
 door, and Eugene Beanharnais entered. " Ma- 
 dame," said ha to his mother, "yon have lieea 
 1914
 
 210 JOSEPHINE. 
 
 Ou t rard Kumori. Apprehensi 
 
 now more than an hour absent. The council 
 of ministers is perhaps over. What will th 
 first consul say, should he not find you on hii 
 return?" The two ladies then, arm in am, 
 descended the stairs, conversing in earnest whis- 
 pers, followed by Eugene. 
 
 This Ouvrard, to whom allusion is made 
 above, was a famous banker in Paris, of enor- 
 mous wealth, and engaged in the most wild 
 and extravagant speculations. 
 
 It now began to be rumored that Napoleon 
 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 ; 
 that alliance with one of the ancient royal fam- 
 ilies of Europe, and the birth of a son, to whom 
 he could transmit his crown, would place hia 
 power upon an impregnable foundation. Jose- 
 phine *x)uld not but perceive the apparent poliov
 
 A.D. 1800.] THE CORONATION. 211 
 
 Anecdote. Introduction of mgmi 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 
 ois towering ambition. 
 
 One day she softly entered the cabinet without 
 being announced. Bonaparte and Bourrienne 
 were conversing together. The day before, an 
 article appeared in the Moniteur, evidently pre- 
 paring the way for the throne. Josephine gently 
 approached her husband, sat down upon his knee, 
 affectionately passed her hand through his hair 
 and over his face, and, with moistened eyes and 
 a burst of tenderness, exclaimed, " I entreat you, 
 mon ami, do not make yourself a king. It is 
 Lucien who urges you to it. Do not even list- 
 en to him;" 
 
 Bonaparte, smiling very pleasantly, replied, 
 "Why, my dear Josephine, you are crazy. You 
 must not listen to these tales of the old dowa- 
 gers. But you interrupt us now. I am very 
 busy." 
 
 During the earlier period of Napoleon's con- 
 sulship, like the humblest citizen, he occupied 
 the same bed-chamber with his spouse. But 
 now that more of regal ceremony and state was 
 being introduced to the consular establishment,
 
 212 JOSEIHINE [A.D. 1800 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine occupy separate apartment*, 
 
 their domestic intercourse, to the great grief of 
 Josephine, assumed more of cold formality. Sep- 
 arate apartments were assigned to Josephine al 
 a considerable distance from those occupied by 
 her husband, and it was necessary to travers* 
 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 th* 
 adies 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 late 
 On such occasions she was, if possible, more 
 .gracious than usual, refused nobody, and wr
 
 A-D. 1800.] THE CORONATION. 213 
 
 locephlne adrocatei the came of the Bourbon*. A present 
 
 were sure of obtaining every thing we asked, as 
 [ have myself many times experienced." 
 
 TLs Bourbons had been for some time in cor- 
 respondence with Napoleon, hoping, through his 
 gency, 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 
 suffered so much from anarchy, was a decided 
 Royalist, and she exerted all her powers to in- 
 duce Napoleon to make the attempt to reinstate 
 the Bourbons. When her friends congratulated 
 her upon the probability that she would soon be 
 Empress of France, with heartfelt sincerity she 
 replied, " To be the wife of the first consul ful- 
 fills my highest ambition. Let me remain so." 
 The Bourbons expressed much gratitude at the 
 time in view of Josephine's known intercessions 
 in their behalf. 
 
 About this time a serious accident happened 
 to the first consul, which also exposed Jose- 
 phine to much danger. The inhabitants of 
 Antwerp had made Napoleon a present of six 
 magnificent bay horses. With four of these 
 spirited steeds harnessed to the carriage, Napo- 
 leon was one day taking an airing, with Jose- 
 phinn and Cambaceres, the second consul, in
 
 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1800 
 
 lUpoleon takei t the whip. Accident reaulting from hU uiuklllfnlne* 
 
 the park. Napoleon, taking a fancy to drive 
 four in hand, mounted the coach-box, and Cae- 
 sar, his favorite coachman, was stationed be- 
 hind. The horses soon discovered that they 
 had a new and inexperienced driver, and start- 
 ed off at the top of their speed. Napoleon lost 
 all control over them, and the frightened ani- 
 mals, perfectly ungovernable, dashed along the 
 road at a fearful rate. Csesar kept shouting to 
 Napoleon, " Keep in the middle !" Cambace- 
 r6s, pale with fright, thrust his head out of the 
 window, and shouted " Whoa ! whoa !" Jose- 
 phine, greatly alarmed, sank back in her seat, 
 and in silent resignation awaited the issue. 
 As they approached the avenue to St. Cloud, 
 the imperial driver had not sufficient skill to 
 guide them safely through the gateway. The 
 coach struck against one of the pillars, and was 
 overturned with a terrible crash. Josephine 
 and Cambaceres were considerably bruised. 
 Napoleon was thrown from his seat to the dis- 
 tance of eight or ten paces, and was taken up 
 insensible. He, however, soon recovered. On 
 retiring at night, they amused themselves in 
 talking 3ver the misadventure. "Mon ami," 
 said Josephine, laughing, " you must render 
 unto Ceesar the things that be Caesar's*. Let
 
 AJ). 1800.] THE CORONATION. 21fl 
 
 Mapoleon't rtew of death. ?ubeqnrn dhungt of opinion 
 
 him keep his whip. Each to his vocation.* 
 The conversation was continued for some time 
 in a tone of pleasantry. Gradually Napoleon 
 became more serious. He seemed to be reflect- 
 ing deeply, and paid that he never before came 
 so near to death. " Indeed," said he, " I was 
 for some moments virtually 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 immoitality. 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 tc 
 Rcederer, "are those who put into his head 
 ideas of hereditary succession, dynasty, divorce.
 
 916 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 180i 
 
 Baoiftraacei of Josephine. Titled Ktf Uihmoa la Pwto 
 
 and marriage." Again she is represented ai 
 eaying, " I do not approve the projects of Na- 
 poleon. I have often told him so. He hears 
 e 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. CKrad, and Malmaison were 
 consequently ever thronged with illustrious 
 strangers from the island with which France 
 had so long been engaged in war. The cele- 
 brated statesman, Mr. Fox, with Lord and Lady 
 Holland, Lord Erskine, and several others of 
 the most distinguished of the English nobility, 
 were visiting Paris, and one morning were at a 
 breakfast party at Madame Reoamier's. Break 
 fast was nearly concluded, when the sounds of 
 a horseman galloping into the court-yard were 
 heard. Eugene Beauharnais was immediate^
 
 A..D. 1802.J THE OORONATIBR. 217 
 
 jocephine invites tl'm to Malmaison. Their reception 
 
 after announced. After a few woids 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 .ndemnify myself for the 
 'ess of your society which I have this morning 
 rastained. I am commissioned by my mother 
 to attend you to Malmaison. The carriages 
 will be here in a few moments which are foi 
 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 arrivea 
 and the whole party proceeded to Malmaison 
 Josephine received her guests with that cour- 
 tesy and refined cordiality in which she was 
 unrivaled. Bonaparte, knowing the powerful 
 influence of the illustrious English statesman, 
 was very desirous that he should receive a fa- 
 vorable impression from his visit. It required 
 but little effort on the part of Josephine to ex- 
 oel 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 aJL 
 that he saw and heard.
 
 118 J 3 8 E P H I N E. [ A.D. 1804. 
 
 DUflpation la Prl*. Napoleon declared emperor. 
 
 Ten years had passed, during which France 
 had been in a state of constant warfare. The 
 short peace which succeeded the treaty of 
 Amiens filled Paris with the best society of 
 Surope Extravagance and dissipation reigned 
 In the metropolis. But in those scenes of dis- 
 sipation neither Napoleon nor Josephine ever 
 made their appearance. His mind was ever 
 engrossed with the magnificent plans he was 
 forming and the deeds he was achieving. Jo- 
 sephine was equally engaged in watching over 
 the interests of her husband, and in gaining and 
 confirming friends to his cause. 
 
 On the 18th of May, 1804, by a decree of 
 the senate, Napoleon was declared Emperor 
 of France. The decree was sent out to the 
 various departments for the action of the peo- 
 ple. The result was, that 3,572,329 voted in 
 the affirmative, while but 2569 were in the 
 negative. A more unanimous expression of a 
 nation's will history never has recorded. The 
 day after his elevation to the imperial throne, 
 the emperor .veld a grand Iev6e at the Tuille- 
 ries, and Josephine, with many fears darkening 
 this hour of exultation, made her first appear- 
 ance as the Empress of France. The decre 
 announcing Napoleon Bonaparte to be the em
 
 A.D.1804.] THE CORONATION. 219 
 
 fotephlae'i feari. Grand lerfe. Josephine's elerated petition 
 
 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 hi 
 saloons. Josephine found herself elevated to the 
 position of the most illustrious of the queens of 
 Europe. The power of her husband was supe- 
 rior to that of any of the surrounding 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 pageant 
 was to take place in the church of Notre Dame 
 The pope came from Rome to place the crown 
 apon this lofty, though plebeian brow. For ten 
 centuries such an honor had not been conferred 
 apon any monarch. The day was clear and brill-
 
 JOSEPHINK. JA.D. 1804 
 
 ttp*r*ticiu for the coronation. Dreis of Josephine 
 
 iant, but intensely cold. The venerable walls of 
 Notre Dame had never before witnessed suoh 
 luxury and suoh magnificence as was now dis> 
 p.fiyed. Carriages glittering with gold and pur* 
 p-e trappings ; horses proudly caparisoned ; offi- 
 cers in the richest uniforms, and in court dresses 
 sumptuously embroidered ; servants in most gor- 
 geous liveries ; and a waving sea of ostrich 
 plumes, bewildered the multitude with the un- 
 wonted splendor. 
 
 The empress appeared in a robe of white satin, 
 embroidered with gold, and profusely ornament- 
 ed with diamonds. A mantle of crimson velvet, 
 lined with white satin and ermine, floated over her 
 shoulders, and golden bees were clustered over 
 the dress. The coronation jewels consisted of a 
 crown, a diadem, and a girdle. The coronation 
 crown consisted of eight golden branches, four 
 in imitation of palm, and four of myrtle leaves. 
 The dew-drops glittering upon this foliage were 
 brilliant diamonds. A golden-corded band sur- 
 rounded the crown, embellished with eight very 
 large emeralds. The bandeau inclosing the 
 aead glittered resplendent with amethysts. 
 This was the coronation crown, which was used 
 only upon state occasions. The diadem, whick 
 was for more ordinary service, was composed ~S
 
 A.D. 1804.] THE CORONATION. 221 
 
 Drew of Napoleon. The Imperial carriage 
 
 four rows of pearls interlaced with diamonds. 
 In front were several very large brilliants, one 
 of which weighed one hundred and forty-nine 
 grains. The ceinture or girdle was of pure gold, 
 <w 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 hi gold and embellished with diamonds. 
 Napoleon seemed to regret the vast expense at- 
 tending this display, while at the same time he 
 was conscious of its importance to impress the 
 minds of the Parisians. The emperor was pro- 
 fuse in expenditure to promote the grandeur and 
 glory of the nation, but very frugal in his per- 
 sonal expenses. 
 
 The imperial carriage, constructed expressly 
 for the occasion, was the most exquisite piece of 
 workmanship Parisian ingenuity could devise. 
 It was drawn by eight bay horses. The panel* 
 ing was entirely of glass. As the emperor and 
 empress entered the carriage, they both, by mis- 
 take, sat down with their backs toward the 
 horses. Josephine, immediately perceiving the 
 error, lightly changed her seat, e t the same tim*
 
 JOSEPHINE. [AJ). 1804 
 
 A fplndid ptgeant. The throno 
 
 saying smilingly to her husband, as she point- 
 ed to the rioh cushion at her side, " Mon ami ! 
 unless you prefer riding vis-a-vis, this is your 
 jeat," Napoleon laughed heartily at the blun- 
 der, and changed his seat. Double files of in- 
 fantry lined the route of more than a milo and 
 a half, extending from the Tuilleries to Notre 
 Dame. Ten thousand horsemen, in most gor- 
 geous uniforms, attended the carriages. Half a 
 million of spectators thronged the way, crowd- 
 ing the windows and balconies, clustered upon 
 the house-tops, and filling up every space from 
 whence any view of the cortege could be gained. 
 The air was filled with the martial strains of a 
 thousand bands, with the thunders of innumer- 
 able pieces of artillery, and with the enthusiastic 
 acclamations of the vast multitude. A pageant 
 more sublime this world perhaps has never wit 
 eased. 
 
 The throne, which was hung with crimson 
 velvet, was overarched with a canopy of tha 
 same rioh material. It was ascended by twen- 
 ty-two circular steps, whieA were covered with 
 bine oloth, studded with golden bees. The most 
 illustrious officers of the empire crowded the 
 stairs. Napoleon and Josephine sat, side by 
 id A, upon the throne TWe religions ceremony
 
 A.D. 1804.] THE CORONATION. 225 
 
 Napoleom crowns hlauclf and JoMfhtee. A tonchlmg Men* 
 
 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 
 own 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, 
 npon 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, ha 
 *id, " My dts:cndants will long sit unon tfits 
 
 throne? These words were as a dagger to u, 
 J.9 15
 
 226 JOSEPHINE. [A .D. 1804. 
 
 Pioui emotion* of Josephine. Impatience of Napoleom 
 
 heart of the empress. She knew Napoleon's in- 
 tense desire for an heii. She knew how strong 
 the desire in France was that he should have a 
 on bo 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 anguisn. 
 
 The shades of evening had fallen upon the 
 swarming city, and all the streets of the metrop- 
 olis and the broad facade of the Tuilleries were 
 glittering with illuminations when the emperor 
 and empress returned to the palace. Josephine, 
 overcome with the conflicting emotions which 
 the day had excited, retired to her apartment, 
 and, falling upon her knees, with tears implored 
 the guidance of the King of kings. Napoleon 
 hastened to his room, exclaiming impatiently 
 tc an attendant as he entered, " Off, off with 
 these confounded trappings!" He threw the 
 mantle into one corner of the room, and the gor- 
 geous robe into another, and, thus violently dis- 
 encumbering himself, declared that hours of
 
 A.D. 1804.J THE CORONATION. 227 
 
 . wephlne'i foreboding* fulfilled. Deiirei to forj at her tide 
 
 uoh mortal tediousness he had never encoun- 
 tered before. 
 
 Josephine, in her remonstrances with Napo- 
 leon against assuming the 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 is the 
 state of things, at home how numerous the en- 
 vious and discontented ! How many plots to 
 disconcert, and how many conspiracies to pun- 
 ish." 
 
 Soon after the coronation, Josephine was one 
 morning in her garden, when an intimate friend 
 called to see her. She saluted the empress by 
 the title of Your Majesty. " Ah !" she ex- 
 claimed, in tones deeply pathetic, "I entreat 
 that you will suffer me, at least here, to forget 
 that I am an empress." It is the unvarying 
 testimony of her friends, that, while she was 
 receiving with surpassing gracefulness the con- 
 gratulations of France and of Europe, her heart 
 was heavy. She clearly foresaw the peril of
 
 228 JOSEPHINE. \A.D. 1804 
 
 Jotephina'i regrets. Corruption of the court of Frtno* 
 
 their 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 part of France congratula- 
 tions upon his accession to the throne, while I 
 myself sighed in contemplating the immense 
 power he had acquired. The more I saw him 
 loaded with the gifts of Fortune, the mere I 
 feared his fall." 
 
 The court of France had for ages been the 
 scene of the most voluptuous and unblushing 
 vice. The whole nation had been corrupted by 
 its influence. Dissipation had been rendered 
 attractive by the grace with which it had beer 
 robed. The dissolute manners which had pre-
 
 A.D.1804.] THE CjaoNATiow. 229 
 
 Napoleon torapolow in forming hl court The Duoheu d'Alg illloa. 
 
 Tailed at Versailles, the Tuilleries, and St 
 Cloud no pen can describe. Napoleon determ- 
 ined that, at all hazards, his court should be 
 reputable at least in outward morality. He 
 was more scrupulous upon this point even than 
 Josephine herself. Believing that the downfall 
 of the Bourbons was caused, in no inconsidera- 
 ble degree, by the dissolute lives of the nobles 
 and the courtiers, he would give no one an ap- 
 pointment among the royal retinue whose char- 
 acter was not, in his judgment, above reproach. 
 
 The Duchess d'Aiguillon had been a fellow- 
 captive of Josephine, and, after their liberation 
 from prison, had greatly befriended her. Dur- 
 ing the license of those times, in which all the 
 restraints of Christian morality had been swept 
 away, her character had not remained perfectly 
 spotless. She and her husband had availed 
 themselves of the facile liberty of divorce which 
 the laws had encouraged, and had formed other 
 unions. Josephine felt grateful for the many 
 favors she had received from the duchess, and 
 wished to testify this gratitude by receiving her 
 at court. Napoleon peremptorily refused. Jo 
 sephine wrote to her in the following terms : 
 
 " MY DEAR FRIEND, I am deeply afflicted. 
 Mv forme- friends, supposing that I arn able to
 
 230 JOSEPHINE. A.D. 1804. 
 
 Latter from Jocephlaa to tha Ducheai d'AlguUlon. 
 
 obtain the fulfillment of all my wishes, must 
 suppose that I have forgotten the past. Alas ! 
 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 at 
 a distance from his court all who may have 
 availed themselves of the opportunity for a li 
 voroe. Hence the cause of his refusing the fa 
 vor I asked of having you with me. The re- 
 fusal has occasioned me unspeakable regret, 
 but he is too absolute to leave even the hope of 
 seeing him retract. I am thus constrained t
 
 A..D.1804.] THK CORONATION. 231 
 
 Josephine not her own mill mi 
 
 renounce the pleasure I had promised myself 
 of being constantly with you, studying to make 
 you forget the sovereign in the friend. Pity 
 my lot in being too public a personage to follow 
 my own inclination, and cherish for me a friend- 
 ship, the remembrance of which gives me now 
 as much pleasure as its reality afforded conso- 
 lation in prison. Often do I regret that small, 
 dark, and dismal chamber which we shared to- 
 gether, for there, at least, I could pour out my 
 whole heart, and was sincerely beloved in re- 
 turn."
 
 232 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1805 
 
 Coronato* ttte*. AjtewU of * tmlUoa 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 
 
 TIRING the whole month succeeding th 
 coronation, Paris was surrendered to fetes, 
 illuminations, and all manner of public rejoic- 
 ing. One morning the empress found in her 
 apartment, as a present from the municipality 
 of the capital, a toilet service, with table, ewer, 
 and basin of massive gold, wrought with most 
 exquisite workmanship. An enormous balloon, 
 in the form of the imperial crown, brilliantly 
 illuminated, was launched, the evening of tho 
 coronation, from Paris. The vast structure, 
 weighing five hundred pounds, floated most 
 majestically over the city, for a time the object 
 of the gaze of a million of eyes, till, borne away 
 by the wind toward the south, it disappeared 
 The next evening it fell near the city of Rome, 
 nine hundred miles from Paris. " Sire," said 
 a courtier, announcing the fact to Napoleon, 
 " your imperial crown has appeared in the tw 
 great capitals of the worli within the space of 
 twwnty-four hours."
 
 A D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN E MPRESS. 233 
 
 The Italian! petition Napoleon to be their king. Crowing the Alps 
 
 As soon as Napoleon was crowned Emperor 
 of France, the senators of the Italian Republic, 
 ver 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 Austnaus, 
 and they regarded him as their greatest bene- 
 factor. The emperor was in the habit of set- 
 ting out on his various tours without any warn- 
 ing. One evening, when the festivities of the 
 baptism of the second son of Hortense had been 
 kept up until midnight, Napoleon said quietly, 
 upon retiring, " Horses at six for Italy." Jose- 
 phine accompanied her husband upon this tour. 
 The road bridging the Alps, which Napoleon 
 subsequently constructed, was then but con- 
 templated. It was only by a rugged and dan- 
 gerous foot-path that the ascent of these awful 
 barriers of nature could be surmounted. Two 
 beautiful sedans had been constructed in Turin 
 for the emperor and empress. The one for 
 Napolaon was lined with crimson silk, riohlj 
 ornamented with gold. Josephine's was trim, 
 mod 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. 1803 
 
 Hpp*ne Of Jotepb Ine. Vie w from the Alp* 
 
 leaning upon the arm of her husband, and, in 
 conversation with him, gazing upon the wild 
 sublimities with which they were surrounded. 
 This must have been to Josephine, independ- 
 ently of those inward anxieties which weighed 
 MO 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 Csesars 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 Franca 
 to the most brilliant victories. Napoleon was 
 in fine spirits, and in these gilded hours he 
 looked lovingly upon her, and they both were 
 truly happy. It is difficult for the imagination 
 to conceive any thing more attractive for a 
 warm-hearted and an enthusiastic woman than
 
 A. D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS 235 
 
 Splendid fte on the field of Marengo. 
 
 to pass over these most sublime of the barriers 
 of nature, with Napoleon for a guide and a con- 
 fiding friend. Pope Pius VII., who had formed 
 a very strong friendship for Josephine, accom- 
 panied them as far as Turin. When parting, 
 the empress made him a present of a beautiful 
 vase of Sevres china, embellished with exquisite 
 paintings of the coronation. 
 
 From Turin Napoleon took Josephine to the 
 field of Marengo. He had assembled upon that 
 great battle plain, which his victory has immor- 
 talized, thirty thousand troops, that Josephine 
 might behold, in the mimicry of war, the dread- 
 ful scenes which had deluged those fields in blood. 
 It was the fifth of May, and a bright Italian sun 
 shone down upon the magnificent pageant. A 
 yast 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 oo~ 
 oasion with the same war-worn garments the 
 battered hat, the tempest-torn cloak, the coat of 
 *aded 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 
 oeen engaged in the action were present. Napo- 
 leon and Josephine came upon the ground in
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 A tnbllme ipeetacla. Triumphal entry Into Miiia 
 
 magnificent chariot, drawn by eight horses. The 
 moment he appeared upon the plain, one general 
 shout of acclamation from thirty thousand ador* 
 ing Toices 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 fStes 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 hii 
 reign. The ircn crown of Charlemagne, which
 
 A.D. 1805.J JOSEPHINE AN EMPRBSS. 237 
 
 The coronation. Napoleon again crown* himself and JoeepMna, 
 
 for a thousand years had pressed no brow, was 
 brought forth from its mausoleum to add the at- 
 traction of deep poetic sentiment to the corona- 
 tion The ceremony took place on the twenty- 
 sixth of May, in the Cathedral of Milan. The 
 coronation was conducted with magnificence not 
 even surpassed by the ceremony in Notre Dame. 
 The empress first made her appearance, most 
 gorgeously dressed, and glittering with dia- 
 monds. She was personally loved by the Milan- 
 ese, and was greeted with the most enthusiastic 
 acclamations. A moment after, the emperor 
 himself entered, by another door. He was ar- 
 rayed in imperial robes of velvet, purple, and 
 gold, with the diadem upon his brow, and the 
 iron crown and scepter of Charlemagne in hia 
 hands. Napoleon, as in the coronation at Paris 5 
 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 hia feet, 
 and was again crowned by her husband. 
 
 Josephine remained with the emperor in Mi- 
 lan for nearly a month. He was busy night and 
 lay in commencing improvements of the most 
 najestic character. The Italians still look back
 
 238 JSEPH1NE. [A.D.1805 
 
 Entertainment! 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 eon' 
 tinned scene of festivity. One day Josephine 
 and Napoleon had broken away from courtiers 
 and palaces, and all the pageantry of state, and 
 had retreated for a few hours to the retirement 
 and solitude of a beautiful little island in one of 
 the lakes in that vicinity. They entered the 
 cabin of a poor woman. She had no idea of the 
 illustrious character of her guests, and, in an- 
 swer to their kind inquiries, opened to them the 
 story of her penury, her toils, and her anxiety to 
 bring up her three children, as the father often 
 could obtain no work. " Now how much money, 
 my good woman," inquired Napoleon, " would 
 you like to have to make you perfectly happy ?" 
 " Ah ! sir," she replied, " a great deal of money 
 I should want." " But how much should yon 
 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 
 JUT ever having twenty louis ?" The emperor 
 poured into her lap three thousand francs (about 
 six hundred dollars) in glittering gold. For A 
 few moments she was speechless in bewilder- 
 ment ; at length, trembling with emotion, sh
 
 A. D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 239 
 
 Reception at Genoa. A floating garden 
 
 said, " Ah! sir ah ! madam, this is a great deal 
 too much. And yet you do not look as if you 
 oouCi sport with the feelings of a poor woman." 
 "No !" Josephine replied, in the most gentle ao- 
 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 
 my thing they had before witnessed. lu 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 
 wound the gorgeous spectacle. The city, with
 
 240 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1803 
 
 A gorgeou* spectacle. Josephine's obedience to Napoleon 
 
 all its picturesque beauty of embattled forts and 
 sraggy shores the serenity and brilliance of 
 Italian skies in May the blue expanse of the 
 Mediterranean the marble palaces and glitter 
 ing domes which embellished the streets the 
 lovely bay whitened with sails all combined 
 to invest the gorgeous spectacle with attractions 
 such as are rarely witnessed. From Genoa 
 they proceeded to Paris, every where accompa- 
 nied by the thunders of artillery and the blaze 
 of illuminations. 
 
 Josephine was not unfrequently under the 
 necessity of taking journeys unaccompanied by 
 the emperor. On such occasions the tireless 
 mind of Napoleon arranged every particular 
 with the utmost precision. A manuscript was 
 placed in her hand, describing the route she was 
 to take, the places at which she was to stop, 
 the addresses or replies she was to make to 
 public functionaries, the expenses she was to 
 incur, and even the presents she was to make. 
 On such excursions, Josephine every morning 
 most carefully studied her lesson for the day 
 She took great pleasure in obeying his directions 
 exactly, exposing herself to great inconvenien- 
 ces rather than to allow herself to deviate in 
 the slightest particular from the written direo-
 
 A.D. 1805 j JOSEPHINE AN EMFRIJSS. 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 t 
 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 hi 
 the attempt, and accomplished the passage 
 through, though with very great difficulty. In 
 many places the workmen on the road had to 
 support the carriages with ropes and poles to 
 prevent an overturn. It rained during much 
 f the journey. Josephine and her ladle? were 
 1916
 
 242 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 180& 
 
 Josephine receives a lecture. Her mind well stored 
 
 often compelled to alight, and to walk for some 
 distance nearly ankle deep in mud and water. 
 Josephine endured all with the utmost good 
 nature. She was cheered by the assurance 
 that she was following the wishes of her hus- 
 band. Many of her attendants, however, were 
 excessively annoyed by the hardships they en- 
 countered. The carriage of the first femme- 
 de-chambre was actually overturned, and the 
 irritated serving- woman could not restrain her 
 expressions of impatience and displeasure. At 
 last one of the distinguished ladies of the court 
 took it upon herself to lecture the empress so 
 roundly for her blind subservience to the direc- 
 tions of Napoleon, that Josephine burst into 
 tears. 
 
 Josephine, by conversation, observation, and 
 reading, was continually storing her mind with 
 valuable information. In the various journeyi 
 she took, she was always accompanied by per- 
 eons 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.1S05.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 243 
 
 Her klndneM to her attandmtt. Vtatti tb* bath* at Alt 
 
 of any of the families of the ladies who were 
 with her, she never failed to send a special mes- 
 senger with the information, and to point out 
 the places where such incidents occurred. She 
 seemed thus to be continually studying for op- 
 portunities of manifesting kind and delicate at- 
 tentions to the ladies of her household. She 
 thus secured a universality and a fervor of af- 
 fection such as has rarely been attained. On 
 these pleasure excursions, the restraints of the 
 court were laid aside, and there were, all the 
 joyous commingling and affectionate familiari- 
 ty which prevail among intimate friends. 
 
 Napoleon, aware of the vast influence which 
 the pomp of regal state exerts upon the human 
 mind, was very particular in his court in the 
 observance of all the etiquette of royalty. Jo- 
 sephine, however, was always disposed to es- 
 cape from the exactions of the code ceremonial 
 whenever she could do so with propriety. A 
 curious instance of this occurred at Aix la 
 Chapelle, where the empress was passing a few 
 days for the benefit of the baths. One evening 
 she was sitting, with her ladies around her, 
 weary of the lassitude of a fashionable water- 
 ing-place, when some one suggested that, to 
 while away an hour, they should visit a oel
 
 244 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805. 
 
 Josephine and her ladle* proceed on foot to rUit the model of PrU. 
 
 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 wa 
 sure, she said, that the citizens of Aix la Cha- 
 pelle were so kindly disposed toward her, that 
 there could be no possible danger. The chev- 
 alier, as far as he dared to do, urged his remon- 
 strances against such a breach of imperial deco- 
 rum ; but the ladies of the court were all de- 
 lighted with the plan of Josephine, and they 
 set out on foot, a brilliant party of ladies and 
 gentlemen, to visit the exhibition. As the citi- 
 zens, of course, knew nothing about this unex- 
 pected movement, there was no crowd in the 
 streets to impede their way, and they proceed- 
 ed without any difficulty, and very pleasantly, 
 to the place of their destination. But the in- 
 telligence of the adventure of the court, so novel 
 and so unprecedented, was immediately noised 
 throughout the town. From every section of 
 the city, throngs, allured by curiosity and lore 
 for Josephine, began to pour into the streets 
 through which they were to pass to see them 
 return. The citizens occupying the dwellings 
 and the shops which lined the streets, instant-
 
 A.D 1805. JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 245 
 
 EnUnuiasnt of the people. Th party return on fbot 
 
 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 to 
 their consternation, they found their path blaz- 
 ing with illuminations. Their whole route was 
 filled with a dense throng of men, women, and 
 children, 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 ohev- 
 nlier, she led the way through the crowd. The 
 ladies all followed, each supported by the arm 
 yf some nobleman of the court. The populace 
 respectfully opened before them, and closed up 
 behind. The plumes, and diamonds, and gay
 
 246 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1805 
 
 Josephine's candor. Fond of breakfasting In the open Jr 
 
 attire of the court shone brilliantly in the blaze 
 of light which was shed upon them from the il- 
 Inminated windows. The enthusiastic accla 
 mations of the populace greeted the empress 
 until she arrived, in perfect safety, at her resi- 
 dence. As soon as she entered her saloon, with 
 her accustomed frankness she thanked the 
 chevalier for the advice which he had given, 
 and confessed that, in not following it, she had 
 been guilty of imprudence, which might have 
 been attended by very serious consequences 
 
 When traveling unaccompanied by the em- 
 peror, she was fond of breakfasting in the open 
 air, upon some green lawn, beneath the shade 
 of venerable trees, or upon some eminence, 
 where her eye could feast upon the sublimities 
 of Nature, which are so attractive to every en- 
 nobled mind. The peasantry, from a respectful 
 distance, would look upon the dazzling specta- 
 cle perfectly bewildered and awe-stricken. The 
 sendee of silver and of gold, the luxurious ri- 
 ands, the gorgeous display of graceful female 
 attire, and uniforms and liveries, all combined 
 to invest the scene, in their eyes, with a splen- 
 dor almost more than earthly. 
 
 On one occasion, a mother's love and prida 
 triumphed over even her scrupulous obedience
 
 A..D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 247 
 
 fta preiecUtion. Jotephlne'i maternal scniltlv-cne** 
 
 to the wishes of Napoleon. Napoleon and Jo- 
 sephine, accompanied by Eugene and a very 
 magnificent retinue, were at Mayenoe. There 
 was to be a grand presentation of the German 
 princes to the emperor and empress. Eugene, 
 the son of the empress, according to the laws 
 of court etiquette, should have been included 
 with Napoleon and Josephine in the presenta- 
 tion. By some oversight, his name was omit- 
 ted. As Josephine glanced her eye over the 
 programme, she noticed the omission, and point- 
 ed it out to Napoleon. As the arrangements had 
 all been made by him, he was not a little piqued 
 in finding himself at fault as to a point of eti- 
 quette, and insisted upon following the pro- 
 gramme. Josephine, ever ready to make any 
 personal sacrifice to meet the wishes of Napo- 
 leon, could not be induced to sacrifice the sensi- 
 tive feelings of her son. " I had no desire," she 
 said, " for the honors of coronation ; but, since 
 I hare been crowned, my son must be treated 
 as the son of an empress." Napoleon yielded, 
 not, however, with very good grace. 
 
 Two of the princesses of Baden, on this ooca 
 flion, accompanied Josephine to the opera. The 
 evening air was chilly, and the empress, observ- 
 ing that they were very thinly clad, spread over
 
 248 JOSEPHINE [A.D. 1805 
 
 An expmuire compliment A delightful excnrdoi 
 
 the shoulders of each of them one of her rich 
 white Cashmere shawls. These shawls were of 
 the most costly texture, and had been purchased 
 At an expense of several thousand dollars. The 
 next morning the elder of the princesses sent a 
 note, full of complimentary terms, to Josephine, 
 expressing their infinite obligation for her kind- 
 ness, and stating that they would keep the 
 shawls in remembrance of one they so greatly 
 admired. 
 
 On these journeys Napoleon was full of pleas- 
 antry, and very agreeable. Josephine often 
 spoke of this excursion to Mayence in particular 
 as the most delightful that she had ever made 
 with the emperor. They were met at every 
 step on their route with the most enthusiastic 
 testimonials of a nation's love and gratitude. 
 And Napoleon had at this time conferred bene- 
 fits upon France which richly entitled him to 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, he resort- 
 ed to acts which very considerably impaired his 
 good name. Josephine, in her journal during 
 this journey, speaks of the common, but errone-
 
 A.D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 
 
 Personal habit* of Napoleon. He ileepi on the flaid of battl* 
 
 ous impression, that Napoleon could work con- 
 stantly and habitually with very few hours de- 
 voted to sleep. She says that this was an erro- 
 neous impression. If the emperor rose at a very 
 early hour in the morning, he would frequent- 
 'y 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 this fact, said that 
 Nature had her rights, which could not be vio- 
 lated with impunity ; and that he felt better pre- 
 pared to issue fresh orders, or to consider the 
 reports which were brought, when awaking 
 from these momentary slumbers. Though Na
 
 250 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 Napoleon'* wonderful mental activity. Retirement at Malmaison 
 
 eon could not set at defiance the established 
 g of our mental and physical nature, words 
 ean 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 tune. ften, 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- 
 rnaison, and become deeply interested in rural 
 occupations. She had a large and very fine 
 flock of merino sheep, and she took great pleas- 
 are in superintending their culture. A detach- 
 ment of the imperial guard was, on such occa- 
 sions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One 
 roning the empress, sitting up till a later hour
 
 A.D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 251 
 
 Anecdote. Instruction* to a lady reipec ting etiquette 
 
 than usual, heard the sound of footsteps passing 
 to and fro beneath her window. She sent for 
 the officer of the guard, and inquired what it 
 meant. He informed her that it was the sentry, 
 who was appointed to keep watch beneath her 
 window all night. " Sir," she replied, " I have 
 no need of a night-guard. These brave soldiers 
 have enough to suffer from the hardships of war 
 when they are under the necessity of going to 
 the field of battle. In my service they must 
 have repose. I wish them here to have no sleep- 
 less nights." 
 
 It is said that rather a ludicrous occurrence 
 took place in one of the cities of the Rhine, in 
 reference to a visit which the emperor and em- 
 press were about to make to that place. One 
 of the distinguished ladies of the city, who was 
 anticipating the honor of a presentation, wrote 
 to obtain from the master of the ceremonies 
 instructions respecting the etiquette to be ob- 
 served. The answer contained very minute 
 directions, and was couched in terms which 
 conveyed a deep impression of their importance. 
 Among other things, it was stated that three 
 courtesies were to be made ; one immediately 
 upon entering the saloon, one in the middle of 
 the room, and a third, en pirouette, when hav-
 
 262 JOSEPHINE. [A.DJSOrt 
 
 The court at Colofc*. 
 
 ing arrived within a few paces of the emperor 
 and empress. The familiar signification of en 
 pirouette is whirling the body around rapidly 
 upon the toes of one foot, the other foot being 
 rather indecorously raised. The ladies assem- 
 bled to study these instructions; and though 
 some of the young, the beautiful, and the grace- 
 ful were not unwilling thus to display their 
 lightness of limb, there were others who read 
 en pirouette with consternation. The vast im- 
 portance which Napoleon attached to every 
 form of etiquette was well known. There was 
 no alternative; the fat and the lean, the tall 
 and the short, the graceful and the awkward, 
 all were to approach their majesties en pirou- 
 ette, or to lose the honor of a presentation. 
 "We have a fortnight for practice," said one 
 of the ladies ; "let us prepare ourselves." For 
 fifteen days all the drawing-rooms of Cologne 
 seemed to be filled with dancing dervises. Ven- 
 erable dowagers were twirling like opera girls, 
 and not unfrequently measuring their portly 
 length upon the carpet. En pirouette was the 
 theme of every tongue, and the scene, morning, 
 noon, and evening, in every ambitious saloon. 
 
 On the evening of the arrival of the emperoi 
 and empress, the same lady who had written
 
 A.D.1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 263 
 
 An amusing misunderstanding. Josephine accused of extnragano*. 
 
 the letter for instructions called upon one of 
 the ladies of the court for still more precise di 
 reotions. 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 
 cf 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- 
 pnine to turn a deaf ear to a tale of distress. 
 Napoleon was ever ready to spend millions upon 
 millions in great public improvements, but he 
 was not willing to have any money wasted. 
 Josephine gave away most liberally in charity, 
 and the emperor, at times, complained a little 
 f the 'arge sums which escaped through her 
 hands. In replying once to a friend, who told
 
 254 JOSEPHINE. [A. D. 1805 
 
 JoMphlne it 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 
 aate, who solicit my assistance, and to the poot 
 emigrants. But I will try to be more econom- 
 ical in future. Tell the emperor so if you see 
 him again. But is it not my duty to bestow 
 as much charity as I can ?" 
 
 On one occasion Napoleon was much dis- 
 pleased by hearing that Josephine had suffered 
 General Lorges, the commandant at Aix la 
 Chapelle, a young and handsome man, to be 
 guilty of the indiscretion of sitting upon the 
 same sofa with, the empress. He reproached 
 her with much severity for permitting such in- 
 decorum. Josephine explained the circumstan- 
 ces. Instead of its being General Lorges who 
 had thus violated the rules of courtly propriety, 
 it was one of the aged and veteran generals of 
 Napoleon's army, who, inured to the hardships 
 of tha camp, was entirely unacquainted with 
 the politeness of courts. He had been present- 
 ed to Josephine, and, without any conscious- 
 ness of the impropriety of which he was guilty, 
 immediately seated himself upon the same sofa 
 with the empress. Josephine was unwilling to 
 wound the feelings of the honest-hearted old
 
 A.D.1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 253 
 
 The explanation. Marriage of Eugene. Happiness of JoMphiM 
 
 soldier, and permitted him to retain his seat 
 until he withdrew. Napoleon was perfectly 
 satisfied with the explanation, and, upon re- 
 ceiving it, manifested renewed indications of 
 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 hei r of his crown. The
 
 256 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 Jocephlne anlrersall; beloved. Her habit of journal) zing 
 
 embarrassment which had at times accompanied 
 their interviews had consequently passed away. 
 Napoleon was proud of Josephine, and often said 
 that there was no woman in the world to be com- 
 pared with her. The empress was happy. All 
 France was filled with stories of her active be- 
 nevolence and her sympathy with the sorrowful. 
 Wherever she made her appearance, she was 
 greeted with the acclamations of the most en- 
 thusiastic attachment. 
 
 Of the many tours which Josephine took with 
 Napoleon, she frequently kept a journal, noting 
 down the events of interest which occurred. 
 The fragments of these journals, which have ap- 
 peared before the public, beautifully exhibit the 
 literary taste and the benevolence of heart of 
 the empress. The following is an extract : 
 
 " About two leagues from Bayonne the em- 
 peror was presented with a spectacle worthy of 
 him. On the declivity of a mountain, gently 
 scooped out in different parts of its descent, is 
 pitched one of those camps which the foresight 
 of the country has provided for its defenders. Jt 
 is composed of seven handsome barracks, differ- 
 ent in form and aspect, each isolated, surrounded 
 with an orchard in full bearing, a well -stocked 
 poultry-yard, and, at different distances, a great-
 
 A.D 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 25? 
 
 Beautiful attract from one of her journal*. 
 
 er 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 
 rooks and plants. The other seems covered with 
 rich tapestry, so varied and numerous are the 
 plots of highly-cultivated ground. The summit 
 i clothed with an ever-verdant forest. Down 
 the center, in a deep channel, flows a limpid 
 stream, refreshing and fertilizing the whole 
 scene. On this spot, the veterans who occupy 
 it gave a fete to the emperor which was at once 
 military and rural. The wives, daughters, and 
 little children of these brave men formed the 
 most pleasing, as they were themselves the no- 
 blest ornament of the festival. Amid piles of 
 arms were seen beautiful shrubs covered with 
 flowers, while the echoes of the mountain re- 
 sounded to the bleating of flocks and the warlike 
 strains of a soldiery intoxicated on thus receiv- 
 ing their chief. The emperor raised this enthu- 
 siasm to the highest pitch by sitting down at a 
 table at once quite military and perfectly pas- 
 toral. I dare not mention the attentions of which 
 J was the object. They affected me deeply. J 
 regarded them as proofs of that veneration which 
 France has vowed to the emperor." 
 
 The infamous Ferdinand uf Spain, who wit 
 1917
 
 253 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 Ferdinand of Spain. A pkitureaqua tetmu 
 
 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 rook. 
 Around it were feeding seven or eight hundred 
 sheep of the most beautiful breed. We could not 
 restrain a ory of admiration. Upon the emper- 
 or addressing some compliments to the embassa- 
 dor, he declared that these flocks belonged to me. 
 4 The king, my master,' he added, ' knows the 
 empress's taste for rural occupations, and as thif 
 species of sheep is little known in France v and 
 will constitute the principal ornament, and, con- 
 sequently, wealth of a farm, he entreats her not 
 to deprive herself of an offering at once so use- 
 ful and so agreeable.' ' Don Pedro,' replied tb
 
 AJ). 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 269 
 
 Routine of Ufa. Account thereof by a ralet de chmmbre 
 
 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 do 
 ohambre of Napoleon, gives the following ao- 
 connt 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 
 ome kind and condescending words to myself." 
 
 Josephine invariably commenced her mom 
 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 enjoyment*. 
 
 and, with unvarying kindness, she manifested 
 great firmness in rejecting those which appeared 
 unworthy of her support. These audiences oo 
 oupied an hour, and then she met, at eleven 
 o'clock, the most distinguished ladies cf the 
 court at the breakfast-table. Napoleon, entire- 
 ly engrossed by those majestic plans he was 
 ever conceiving and executing, usually break- 
 fasted alone in his cabinet, very hastily, not al- 
 lowing more than seven or eight minutes to be 
 occupied by the meal. After breakfast, Jose- 
 phine, with her ladies, took a short walk, if the 
 weather was fair, or for half an hour played a 
 game of billiards. The remainder of the morn- 
 ing, until three o'clock, she passed in her apart- 
 ment, with her chosen female friends, reading, 
 conversing, and embroidering. Josephine her- 
 self was an admirable reader, and the book they 
 were perusing was passed alternately from hand 
 to hand. No works were read but those of real 
 value. By common consent, all novels were 
 banished from the circle, as Napoleon inveter- 
 ately abominated every wark of that kind. If 
 he happened to find a novel iu the hands of any 
 of the attendants of the palace, he unhesitating- 
 ly tossed it into the fire, and roundly lectured 
 the reader upon her waste of time, If Jose-
 
 A-D. 180fi.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 263 
 
 GonfldcHtial interview*. The Jrlro. Dressing for dlnnet 
 
 phine had been a novel reader, she never could 
 have acquired that mental energy which ena 
 bled her to fill with dignity and with honor ev 
 cry 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 few 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 
 tirie to accompany them. On returning from 
 the drive, she dressed for dinner. Napoleon at- 
 tached much importance to this grand toilet, 
 for he was fully aware of the influence of cos- 
 tume upon the public mind, and was very fond
 
 262 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 Recreations of Napoleon. The dinner boor 
 
 of seeing Josephine dressed with elegance and 
 taste. It is reported that he not unfrequently 
 recreated himself by entering her boudoir on 
 such occasions, and suggesting the robe or the 
 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 to 
 occupy.
 
 A.D. 1805.] JCSEPHINB AN EMPRESS. 268 
 
 Dining In state. Eraing partie* 
 
 Occasionally the emperor and empress dined 
 in state . Rich drapery canopied the table, which 
 was placed upon a platform, slightly elevated, 
 with two arm-chairs of gorgeous workmanship, 
 on& for Napoleon, and the other, upon his left, 
 for Josephine. Other tables were placed upon 
 the floor of the same room for illustrious guests 
 The grand marshal announced to the emperor 
 when the preparations for them to enter the 
 room was completed. A gorgeous procession of 
 pages, marshals, equeries, and chamberlains ao 
 oompanied the emperor and empress into the 
 hall. Pages and stewards performed the sub- 
 ordinate parts of the service at the table, in 
 bringing and removing dishes, while noblemen 
 of the highest rank felt honored in minister- 
 ing to the immediate wants of their majesties. 
 Those who sat at the surrounding tables were 
 served by servants in livery. 
 
 Josephine passed the evening in her apart- 
 ment almost invariably with a party either of 
 invited guests, or of distinguished ministers and 
 officers of the empire, who, having called on bus- 
 iness, were awaiting the pleasure of Napoleon. 
 There were frequent receptions and levees, which 
 filled the saloons of the palace with a brilliant 
 throng. At midnight all company retired, and
 
 264 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1805 
 
 Josephine'! love of solitude. Hunting partie* 
 
 the palace was still. Josephine loved the silence 
 of these midnight hours, when the turmoil of 
 the day had passed, and no sounds fell upon her 
 ear but the footfalls of the sentinel in the court- 
 yard below. She often sat for an hour alone, 
 surrendering herself co the luxury of solitude 
 and of undisturbed thought. 
 
 Such was the general routine of the life of 
 Josephine while empress. She passed from one 
 to another of the various royal residences, equal- 
 ly at home in all. At the Tuilleries, St. Cloud, 
 Versailles, Rambouillet, and Fontainebleau, life 
 was essentially the same. Occasionally, at the 
 rural palaces, hunting parties were formed for 
 the entertainment of distinguished guests from 
 abroad. Napoleon himself took but little per- 
 sonal interest in sports of this kind. On such 
 occasions, the empress, with her ladies, usually 
 rode in an open caiecne, and a pic-nic was pro 
 vided, to be spread on the ^reen turf, beneath 
 the boughs of the forest. Once a terrified, pant- 
 ing stag, exhausted with the long chase, when 
 the hounds in full bay were just ready to spring 
 upon him, by a strange instinct sought a retreat 
 beneath the carriage in which the gentle heart 
 of Josephine was throbbing. The appeal was 
 not in vain, Josephine plead for the life of the
 
 A.D.1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 265 
 
 The protected stag. Letter from Josephine to Caroline 
 
 meek-eyed, trembling suppliant. To mark it 
 as her favorite, and as living under the shield 
 of her protection, she had a silver collar put 
 around its neck. The stag now roamed its na- 
 tive glades unharmed. No dog was permitted 
 to molest it, and no sportsman would injure a 
 protege of Josephine. Her love was its talis- 
 man. 
 
 The following letter, which at this time she 
 wrote to Caroline, the sister of Napoleon, who 
 had married Murat, will show the principles, in 
 the exercise of which Josephine won to herself 
 the love of all hearts. 
 
 " Our glory, the glory of woman, lies in sub- 
 mission ; and if it be permitted us to reign, our 
 empire rests on gentleness and goodness. Your 
 husband, already so great in the opinion of the 
 world through his valor and exploits, feels as if 
 he beheld all his laurels brought to the dust on 
 appearing in your presence. You take a pride 
 in humbling him before your pretensions ; and 
 the title of being the sister of a hero is, with 
 you, reason for believing yourself a heroine. Be- 
 lieve me, my sister, that character, with the 
 qualities which it supposes, becomes us not. 
 Let us rejoice moderately in the glory of OUT 
 husbands, and find our glory in softening theii
 
 26G JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805. 
 
 Josephine's desire to accompany Napoleon. 
 
 manners, and leading the world to pardon their 
 deeds. Let us merit this praise, that the nation, 
 while it applauds the bravery of our husbands, 
 may also commend the gentleness bestowed by 
 Providence on their wives to temper their brave- 
 ry. 
 
 The palace ever seemed desolate when Napo- 
 leon was absent, and Josephine was always so- 
 licitous to accompany him upon his tours. Na- 
 poleon loved to gratify this wish, for he prized 
 most highly the companionship of his only con- 
 fidential friend. Upon one occasion, when he 
 had promised to take the empress with him, cir- 
 cumstances arose demanding special speed, and 
 he resolved to set out secretly without her. He 
 ordered his carriage at one o'clock in the morn* 
 ning an hour in which he supposed she would 
 be most soundly asleep. To his amazement, 
 just as he had stepped into his carriage, Jose- 
 phine, in all the dishabille of her night-dress, 
 with some slight drapery thrown over her person, 
 and without even stockings upon her feet, threw 
 herself into his arms. Some noise had at the 
 moment awoke her, she caught an intimation of 
 what was going on, and, without a moment's 
 thought, sprang from her bed, threw over her a 
 oloak. rushed down stairs, and burst into the
 
 A..D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 267 
 
 Anecdote. Vlait to Spala. Npoleon' rtar 
 
 carriage. Napoleon fondly embraced her, rolled 
 tier up warmly in his own capacious traveling 
 pelisse, gave orders for suitable attendants to 
 follow with the wardrobe of the empress, and 
 the horses, with lightning speed, darted from the 
 court-yard. " I could sooner," Napoleon would 
 jocosely say, " transport the whole artillery of a 
 division of my grand army, than the bandboxea 
 of Josephine's waiting- women." 
 
 The visit which Josephine made with Napo- 
 leon to Spain gave her such an insight into the 
 Spanish character, that she looked with much 
 alarm upon his endeavor to place one of his broth- 
 ers upon the Spanish throne. " Napoleon," said 
 she one day to her ladies, " is persuaded that he 
 is to subjugate all the nations of the earth. He 
 cherishes such a confidence in his star, that 
 should he be abandoned to-morrow by family 
 and allies, a wanderer, and proscribed, he would 
 support life, convinced that he should triumph 
 over all obstacles, and accomplish his destin) 
 by realizing his mighty designs. Happily, we 
 hall never have an opportunity of ascertaining 
 whether I am right. But of this you may rest 
 assured, Napoleon is more courageous morally 
 than physically. I know him better than any 
 ne ele does. He believes himself predestinat
 
 268 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805 
 
 Energy of Napoleon. The Spanish campaign, 
 
 ed, and would support reverses with as much 
 calmness as he manifests when confronting dan- 
 ger on the field of battle." 
 
 Little, did Josephine imagine, when uttering 
 these sentiments, that her proud nusband, before 
 whose name the world seemed to tremble, was 
 to die in poverty and imprisonment on the most 
 barren island of the ocean. 
 
 The astounding energy of Napoleon was con- 
 spicuously displayed about this time in his Span- 
 ish campaign. He had placed Joseph upon the 
 throne of Spain, and had filled the Peninsula 
 with his armies. The Spaniards had every 
 where risen against him, and, guided by En- 
 glish councils, and inspirited by the tremendous 
 energy of English arms, they had driven Joseph 
 from his capital, had massacred, by the rage of 
 the mob, thousands of French residents who 
 were dwelling in the Spanish cities, and were 
 rapidly driving the French army over the Pyr- 
 enees. Napoleon had but just returned from 
 the treaty of Tilsit when he was informed of 
 this discouraging state of affairs. 
 
 He immediately, without a moment allowed 
 for repose, set out for Spain. Josephine earnest- 
 ly entreated permission to accompany the em- 
 peror. She assured him that she was fully
 
 A.D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 269 
 
 Josephine left at 8t Cloud. Enthujiiutic greeting of Napoleon. 
 
 aware of the difficulties, fatigue, and peril she 
 must encounter, but that most cheerfully could 
 *he bear them all for the sake of being with 
 him. She said that she should neither feel hun- 
 ger nor cold, nor the need of repose, if she could 
 bu* be by the side of her husband, and that all 
 the privations of the camp would be happiness 
 when shared with one who was all the world to 
 her. Napoleon was deeply moved by this exhibi- 
 tion of her love, but, aware of the incessant ao 
 tivity with which it would be necessary for hiir 
 to drive by night and by day, he firmly but kind- 
 ly denied her request. Josephine wept bitterly 
 as they parted. 
 
 One morning, early in November, 1808, the 
 glittering cavalcade of the emperor, at the ful 
 gallop, drove into the encampment of the retreat- 
 ing French at Vittoria. The arrival of an angel, 
 commissioned from heaven to their aid, could not 
 have inspired the soldiers with more enthusiasm. 
 The heavens rang with the shouts of the mighty 
 host, as they greeted their monarch with cries of 
 u Vive 1'Empereur !*' Not one moment was lost. 
 Napoleon placed himself at the head of his con- 
 centrated army, and turning them, now inspir- 
 ited with the utmost confidence, against the fees 
 before whom they had been retreating, with th
 
 270 JOSEPHINE. [A.D.1805 
 
 Wonderful IUCCCM of Napoleon. Alliance ig&lxft him 
 
 resistlessness of an avalanche cverwhelmed the 
 Spanish forces. Wherever he appeared, resist- 
 ance melted away before him. In the pride of 
 achievements almost miraculous, he marched 
 into Madrid, and there, in the capital of Spain* 
 re-established his fallen throne. But he tarried 
 not there an hour for indulgence or repose. The 
 solid columns of the English army, under Sir 
 John Moore, were still in Spain. Napoleon 
 urged his collected forces, with all the energy 
 which hatred could inspire, upon his English 
 foes, and the Britons, mangled and bleeding, 
 were driven into their ships. The conqueror, 
 feeling that he was indeed the man of destiny, 
 looked for a moment complacently upon Spain, 
 again in subjection at his feet, and then, with 
 the speed of the whirlwind, returned to Jose- 
 phine at St. Cloud, having been absent but lit- 
 tle more than two months. 
 
 In the mean time, while Napoleon was far 
 away with his army, upon the other side of the 
 Pyrenees, Russia, Sweden, and Austria thought 
 it a favorable moment to attack him in his rear. 
 They brought no accusations against the em- 
 peror, they issued no proclamation of war, but 
 secretly and treacherously conspired to march, 
 with all the strength of their collected armies,
 
 A.P. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN IMPRESS. 271 
 
 HI* indignation rouied. Austria violates the treaty. 
 
 upon the unsuspecting emperor. It was an al- 
 liance of the kings of Europe against Napoleon, 
 because he sat upon the throne, not by heredi- 
 tary descent, the only recognized divine right, 
 out by the popular vote. The indignation of 
 the emperor, and of every patriotic Frenchman, 
 had been roused by the totally unjustifiable, but 
 bold and honest avowal of England, that peace 
 could only be obtained by the wresting of the 
 crown from the brow of Napoleon, and replac- 
 ing it upon the head of the rejected Bourbon. 
 
 The emperor had been at St. Cloud but a short 
 time, when, early one spring morning, a cour- 
 ier came dashing into the court-yard of the pal- 
 ace at his utmost speed, bringing the intelligence 
 to Napoleon that Austria had treacherously vi- 
 olated the treaty of peace, and, in alliance with 
 Russia, Sweden, and England, was marching 
 her armies to invade the territory of France. 
 The emperor, his eye flashing with indignation, 
 hastily proceeded to the apartment of the em- 
 press with the papers communicating the intel- 
 ligence in his hand. Josephine was asleep, hav- 
 ing but just retired. He approached her bed, 
 and, awaking her from sound slumber, request- 
 ed her to be ready in two hours to accompany 
 him to Germany. " You have played the part
 
 272 JOSEPHINE. IA.D.1805 
 
 Promptnei* of Josephine. Klndneai of Napoleon. Their route 
 
 of an empress," said he, playfully, " long enough. 
 You must now become again the wife of a gen- 
 eral. I leave immediately. Will you accom- 
 pany me to Strasburg ?" This was short no- 
 tioe, but, with the utmost alacrity, she obeyed 
 the joyful summons. 
 
 She was so accustomed to the sudden move- 
 ments of the emperor that she was not often 
 taken by surprise. Promptness was one of the 
 most conspicuous of her manifold virtues. " I 
 have never," she has been heard to say, " kept 
 any one waiting for me half a minute, when to 
 be punctual depended upon myself. Punctual- 
 ity is true politeness, especially in the great." 
 
 The emperor was in glowing spirits. He had 
 no doubt that he should be entirely victorious, 
 and Josephine was made truly happy by that 
 suavity and those kind attentions which he in 
 this journey so signally displayed. Their route 
 conducted them through some of the most beau- 
 tiful and fertile valleys of France. Every whero 
 around them they saw the indications of pros 
 perity and happiness. Napoleon was in the 
 height of glory. The most enthusiastic accla- 
 mations of love and homage greeted the emper- 
 er and empress wherever the panting steeds 
 which drew them rested for a moment. AM
 
 A..D 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 273 
 
 Effect* of the conscription. Napoleon encourage! marriage* 
 
 thej stopped for a new relay of horses in one of 
 the little villages of Lorraine, Josephine beheld 
 a peasant woman kneeling upon the steps of 
 the village church, with her countenance bathed 
 in tears. The aspect of grief ever touched the 
 kind heart of the empress. She sent for the poor 
 woman, and inquired into the cause of her grief. 
 
 " My poor grandson, Joseph," said she, " is 
 included in the conscription, and, notwithstand- 
 ing all my prayers, he must become a soldier. 
 And more than this, his sister Julie was to have 
 been married to Michael, a neighbor's son, and 
 now he refuses to marry her because Joseph is in 
 the conscription. And should my son purchase 
 a substitute for poor Joseph, it would take all 
 his money, and he would have no dowry to give 
 Julie. And her dowry was to have been a hun- 
 dred and twenty dollars." 
 
 " Take that," said the emperor, presenting 
 the woman with a purse. " You will find 
 enough who will be ready to supply Joseph's 
 place for that amount. I want soldiers, and, 
 for that, purpose, must encourage marriages.** 
 Joseohine was so much interested in the adven- 
 ture, that, as soon as she arrived at Strasburg, 
 she sent a valuable bridal present to Julie. The 
 
 good woman's prayers were answered. Froir 
 
 1918
 
 274 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1805 
 
 The battle at Ulm. Napoleon'i adrlee to the Emperor of Austria. 
 
 Strasburg Josephine returned to Paris, while 
 Napoleon pressed on to encounter the combined 
 armies of Austria and Russia in the renowned 
 campaign of Wagram. 
 
 It was in 1805, some years before the event* 
 we have just described, that Napoleon, with his 
 enthusiastic troops, embarked in the celebrated 
 campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz. At Ulm he 
 surrounded thirty thousand of his foes, and al- 
 most without a skirmish compelled them to 
 lay down their arms. " Your master," said he 
 to the Austrian generals, as, almost dying with 
 mortification, they surrendered their swords, 
 " your master wages against me an unjust war. 
 I say it candidly, I know not for what I am 
 fighting. I know not what he desires of me 
 He has wished to remind me that I was once a 
 soldier. I trust he will find that I have not for- 
 gotten my original avocation. I will, however, 
 give one piece of advice to my brother, the Em- 
 peror of Austria. Let him hasten to make 
 peace. This is the moment to remember that 
 there are limits to all empires, however powerful, 
 The idea that the house of Lorraine may come 
 to an end should inspire him with distrust of 
 fortune. I want nothing on the Continent. 1 
 desire ships, colonies, and commerce. Their
 
 A..D.1805.J JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 275 
 
 His march down the Danube. Anxiety of Jocephln*. 
 
 acquisition would be as advantageous to you at 
 to me." 
 
 From Ulra, Napoleon, with two hundred thou- 
 sand men, flushed with victory, rushed like a 
 tempest down the valley of the Danube, driving 
 the terrified Austrians before him like chaff 
 swept by the whirlwind. Ten thousand bomb- 
 shells were rained down upon the roofs of Vi- 
 enna, till the dwellings and the streets were 
 deluged with the blood of innocence, and then 
 the gates were thrown open for the entrance of 
 the conqueror. Alexander, the Emperor of all 
 the Russias, was hastening down from the North, 
 with his barbarian hordes, to aid the beleaguered 
 city. Napoleon tarried not at Vienna. Fear- 
 lessly pushing on through the sleet and the hai 
 of a Northern winter, he disappeared in the dis- 
 tance from the eyes of France. Austria, Swe- 
 den, Russia, were assembling their innumerable 
 legions to crush him. He was far from home, 
 in a hostile country. Rumors that his rashnes* 
 had led to his ruin began to circulate through- 
 out Europe. 
 
 Josephine was almost distracted with anxiety 
 respecting her husband. She knew that a ter- 
 rible battle was approaching, in which he was 
 to encounter fearful odds. The most gloomy
 
 276 JOSEPHINE. [A D. 1805. 
 
 Arrival of * courier. Hit utter exhaustion 
 
 forebodings pervaded Paris and all France. 
 Several days had passed, during which no intel- 
 ligence whatever had been received from the 
 distant army. Ominous whispers of defeat and 
 rain filled the air. The cold blasts of a Decem- 
 ber night were whistling around the towers of 
 St. Cloud, as Josephine and a few of her friends 
 were assembled in the saloon, anxiously await- 
 ing tidings from Napoleon. It was no time for 
 hilarity, and no one attempted even to promote 
 festive enjoyment. The hour of nine o'clock 
 nad arrived, and yet no courier appeared. All 
 hopes of any tidings on that day were relin- 
 quished. Suddenly the clatter of iron hoofs was 
 heard as a single horseman galloped into the 
 court-yard. Josephine almost fainted with emo- 
 tion as she heard the feeble shout, " Victory 
 Austerlitz!" She rushed to the window and 
 threw it open. The horse of the courier had 
 fallen dead upon the pavement, and the exhaust- 
 ed rider, unable to stand, was half reclining by 
 his side. In the intensity of her impatience, 
 Josephine rushed down the stairs and into the 
 court-yard, followed by all her ladies. The 
 faithful messenger was brought to her in the 
 %rms of four men. He presented to the empreia 
 blurred and blotted line, which the pmoerot
 
 AD 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 277 
 
 Battle of Aurtcrlitz. Moustache the M>melka 
 
 had written amid the thunder and the smoke, 
 the uproar and the carnage of the dreadful day 
 of Austerlitz. As soon as Napoleon saw the 
 field covered with the slain, and the routed ar- 
 mies of his foes flying in dismay before their 
 triumphant pursuers, in the midst of all the hor- 
 rors of that most horrible scene, he turned the 
 energies of his impetuous mind from the hot 
 pursuit to pen a line to his faithful Josephine, 
 announcing the victory. The empress, with 
 tears almost blinding her eyes, read the billet 
 where she stood, by the light of a torch which an 
 attendant had brought her. She immediately 
 drew from her finger a valuable diamond ring, 
 and presented it to the bearer of the joyful mes- 
 sage. The messenger was Moustache the 
 Mameluke, who had accompanied Napoleon 
 from Egypt, and who was so celebrated for the 
 devotion of his attachment to the emperor. He 
 had ridden on horseback one hundred and fifty 
 miles within twelve hours. 
 
 Napoleon was exceedingly sensitive to any 
 apparent want of affection or attention on the 
 part of Josephine. A remarkable occurrence, 
 illustrative of this sensitiveness, took place on 
 his return from his last Austrian campaign. 
 When he arrived at Munich, where he was de-
 
 278 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1805. 
 
 SonsM venees of Napoleon. His unreasonable anger 
 
 layed for a short time, he dispatched a courier 
 to Josephine, informing her that he would be at 
 Fontainebleau on the evening of the twenty-sev- 
 eiith, and expressing a wish that the court should 
 be assembled there to meet him. He, however, 
 in his eagerness, pressed on with such unantici- 
 pated speed, that he arrived early in the morn- 
 ing of the twenty-sixth, thirty-six hours earlier 
 than the time he had appointed. He had actu- 
 ally overtaken his courier, and entered with him 
 the court-yard at Fontainebleau. Very unreas- 
 onably annoyed at finding no one there to receive 
 him, he said to the exhausted courier, as he was 
 dismounting from his horse, " You can rest to- 
 morrow ; gallop to St. Cloud, and announce my 
 arrival to the empress." It was a distance of 
 forty miles. Napoleon was very impatient all 
 the day, and, in the evening, hearing a carriage 
 enter the court-yard, he eagerly ran down, as 
 was his invariable custom, to greet Josephine 
 To his great disappointment, the carriage con 
 tained only some of her ladies. " And where is 
 the empress ?" he exclaimed, in surprise. " We 
 havo preceded her by perhaps a quarter of an 
 hour," they replied. The emperor was now in 
 Tery ill humor. " A very happy arrangement," 
 said he, sarcastically ; and, turning upon hi*
 
 AD 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 279 
 
 Arrival of Josephine. Napoleon s confession. The reconciliation. 
 
 heel, he ascended to the little library, where he 
 had been busily employed. 
 
 Soon Josephine arrived. Napoleon, hearing 
 the carriage enter the court, coldly asked who 
 had come. Being informed that it was the em- 
 press, he moved not from his seat, but went on 
 very busily with his writing. The attendants 
 were greatly surprised, for he never before had 
 been known to omit meeting the empress at her 
 carriage. Josephine, entirely unconscious of 
 any fault, and delighted with the thought of 
 again meeting her husband, and of surprising 
 him in his cabinet, hastened up stairs and en- 
 tered the room. Napoleon looked up coldly from 
 his papers, and addressed her with the chilling 
 salutation, " And so, madame, you have come 
 at last ! It is well. I was just about to set out 
 for St. Cloud." Josephine burst into tears, and 
 stood silently sobbing before him. Napoleon was 
 conquered. His own conscience reproved him 
 for his exceeding injustice. He rose from his 
 eat, exclaiming, " Josephine, I am wrong ; for- 
 give me ;" and, throwing his arms around hei 
 neck, embraced her most tenderly. The recon- 
 ciliation was immediate and perfect, for the gen* 
 tie spirit of Josephine could retain no resent- 
 ment.
 
 280 JostrHiNE. [A.D.1805 
 
 lUpoloon'i taste for dresi. The young Mllor 
 
 Napoleon had a very decided taste in refer- 
 ence to Josephine's style of dress, and her only 
 ambition was to decorate her person hi a man- 
 ner which would be agreeable to him. On this 
 occasion she retired very soon to dress for din- 
 ner. In about half an hour she reappeared, 
 dressed with great elegance, in a robe of white 
 satin, bordered with eider down, and with a 
 wreath of blue flowers, entwined with silver 
 ears of corn, adorning her hair. Napoleon rose 
 to meet her, and gazed upon her with an expres- 
 sion of great fondness. Josephine said, with a 
 emile, " You do not think that I have occupied 
 too much time at my toilet ?" Napoleon point- 
 ed playfully to the clock upon the mantel, which 
 indicated the hour of half past seven, and, taking 
 the hand of his wife, entered the dining-room. 
 
 Though Napoleon often displayed the weak- 
 nesses of our fallen nature, he at times exhibit- 
 ed the noblest traits of humanity. On one oc- 
 casion, at Boulogne, he was informed of a young 
 English sailor, a prisoner of war, who had es 
 oaped from his imprisonment in the interior of 
 Prance, and had succeeded in reaching the coast 
 near that town. He had secretly constructed, 
 in an unfrequented spot, a little skiff, of the 
 branches and bark of trees, in which fabric, al- 
 most as fragile as the ark of bulrushes, he was
 
 A..D. 1805.] JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS. 281 
 
 His fearleMDOM. Napoleon s magnanimity. 
 
 intending to float out npon the storm-swept 
 channel, hoping to be picked up by some En- 
 glish cruiser and conveyed home. Napoleon 
 was struck with admiration in view of the fear- 
 lessness of the project, and, sending for the young 
 man, questioned him very minutely respecting 
 the motives which could induce him to under- 
 take so perilous an adventure. The emperor 
 expressed some doubt whether he would really 
 have ventured to encounter the dangers of the 
 ocean in so frail a skiff. The young man en- 
 treated Napoleon to ascertain whether he was 
 in earnest by granting him permission to carry 
 his design into execution. " You must doubt- 
 less, then," said the emperor, " have some mis- 
 tress to revisit, since you are so desirous to re- 
 turn to your country ?" " No !" replied the 
 sailor, " I wish to see my mother. She is aged 
 and infirm." The heart of the emperor wr- 
 touched. "You shall see her," he energetical- 
 ly and promptly replied. He immediately gave 
 orders that the young man should be thorough 
 ly furnished with all comforts, and sent in a 
 cruiser, with a flag of truce, to the first British 
 vessel which could be found. He also gave the 
 young man a purse for his mother, saying, " She 
 must be no common parent who can have trained 
 up so affectionate and dutiful a son."
 
 282 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1807. 
 
 N.poleon'i prMpectrre heir. Death of the child 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE DIVORCE AND LAST DATS. 
 
 A LLUSION has already been mad? to the 
 -"*- strong attachment with which Napoleon 
 cherished his little grandchild, the son of Hor- 
 tense and of his brother Louis. The boy was 
 extremley beautiful, and developed all those 
 noble and spirited 'traits of character which pe- 
 culiarly delighted the emperor. Napoleon had 
 apparently determined to make the young prince 
 his heir. This was so generally the under- 
 standing, both in France and in Holland, that 
 Josephine was quite at ease, and serene days 
 dawned again upon her heart. 
 
 Early in the spring of 1807, this child, upon 
 whom such destinies were depending, then five 
 years of age, was seized suddenly and violently 
 with the croup, and in a few hours died. The 
 blow fell upon the heart of Josephine with most 
 appalling power. Deep as was her grief at the 
 loss of the child, she was overwhelmed with 
 uncontrollable anguish in view of those fearful 
 * r >n*equenoes which she shuddered to contem-
 
 A..D. ib07.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 283 
 
 Grandeur of Napoleon. Struggle in hl bosom. 
 
 plate. She knew that Napoleon loved het 
 fondly, but she also knew the strength of hi 
 ambition, and that he would make any sacrifice 
 of his affection, which, in his view, would sub- 
 serve the interests of his power and his glory. 
 For three days she shut herself up in her room, 
 and was continually bathed in tears. 
 
 The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napo- 
 leon when he was far from home, in the midst 
 of the Prussian campaign. He had been vic- 
 torious, almost miraculously victorious, over 
 his enemies. He had gained accessions of pow- 
 er such as, in the wildest dreams of youth, he 
 had hardly imagined. All opposition to his 
 sway was now apparently crushed. Napoleon 
 had become the creator of kings, and the proud- 
 est monarchs of Europe were constrained to do 
 his bidding. It was in an hour of exultation 
 that the mournful tidings reached him. He 
 sat down in silence, buried his face in his hands, 
 and for a long time seemed lost in the most 
 painful musings. He was heard mournfully 
 and anxiously to repeat to himself again ace' 
 again, " To whom shall I leave all this ?" The 
 struggle in his mind between his love for Jose- 
 plane and his ambitious desire to found a new 
 dynasty, and to transmit his name and fame
 
 284 JOSEPHINE. A-D. 1807 
 
 Dejection of Napoleon. His energy. Grief of Josephine 
 
 to all posterity, was fearful. It was manifest 
 in his pallid cheek, in his restless eye, in the 
 loss of appetite and of sleep. But the stern 
 will of Bonaparte was unrelenting in its pur- 
 poses. With an energy which the world has 
 never seen surpassed, he had chosen his part. 
 It was the purpose of his soul the purpose be- 
 fore which every thing had to bend to acquire 
 the glory of making France the most illustri- 
 ous, powerful, and happy nation earth had ever 
 seen. For this he was ready to sacrifice com- 
 fort, ease, and his sense of right. For this he 
 was ready to sunder the strongest ties of affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Josephine knew Napoleon. She was fully 
 aware of his boundless ambition. With almost 
 insupportable anguish she wept over the death 
 of this idolized child, and, with a trembling 
 heart, awaited her husband's return. Myste- 
 rious hints began to fill the journals of the con- 
 templated divorce, and of tho alliance of Napo- 
 leon with various princesses of foreign courts. 
 
 In October, 1807, Napoleon returned from 
 Vienna. He greeted Josephine with the great- 
 est kindness, but she soon perceived that his 
 mind was ill at ease, and that he was ponder- 
 ing the fearful question. He appeared sad and
 
 A.D.1807. 1 DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 285 
 
 Bar forebodings. Napoleon absent* himself from her society 
 
 embarrassed. He had frequent private inter- 
 views with his ministers. A general feeling 
 of constraint pervaded the court. Napoleon 
 scarcely ventured to look upon his wife, as if 
 apprehensive that the very sight of one whom 
 he had loved so well might cause him to waver 
 ir. his firm purpose. Josephine was in a state 
 of the most feverish solicitude, and yet was 
 compelled to appear calm and unconstrained. 
 As yet she had only fearful forebodings of her 
 impending doom. She watched, with most ex- 
 cited apprehension, every movement of the em- 
 peror's eye, every intonation of his voice, every 
 sentiment he uttered. Each day some new 
 and trivial indication confirmed her fears. Her 
 husband became more reserved, absented him- 
 self from her society, and the private access be- 
 tween their apartments was closed. He now 
 seldom entered her room, and whenever he did 
 so, he invariably knocked. And yet not one 
 word had passed between him and Josephine 
 upon the fearful subject. Whenever Josephine 
 heard the sound of his approaching footsteps, 
 the fear that he was coming with tho terrible 
 announcement of separation immediately caused 
 such violent palpitations of the heart that it 
 was with tho utmost difficulty she could totter
 
 280 JOSEPHINE [AD. ISO/ 
 
 A&gouh of Napoleon. Difficulty in selecting a bride 
 
 across the floor, even when supporting herself 
 by leaning against the walls, and catching at 
 the articles of furniture. 
 
 The months of October and November passed 
 away, and, while the emperor was discussing 
 with his cabinet the alliance into which he 
 should enter, he had not yet summoned courage 
 to break the subject to Josephine. The evi- 
 dence is indubitable that he experienced intense 
 anguish in view of the separation, but this did 
 not influence his iron will to swerve from its 
 purpose. The grandeur of his fame and the 
 magnitude of his power were now such, that 
 there was not a royal family in Europe which 
 would not have felt honored in conferring upon 
 him a bride. It was at first contemplated that 
 he should marry some princess of the Bourbon 
 family, and thus add to the stability of his 
 throne by conciliating the Royalists of France 
 A princess of Saxony was proposed. Some 
 weighty considerations urged an alliance with 
 the majestic empire of Russia, and some advan- 
 ces were made to the court of St. Petersburgh, 
 having in view a sister of the Emperor Alexan- 
 der. It was finally decided that proposals should 
 be made to the court of Vienna for Maria Lou 
 Ua, daughter of the Emperor of Austria.
 
 A.D.1809.] DIVORCE AMD LAST DAYS. 287 
 
 A iiient dinner at Fontainebleao. 
 
 At length the fatal day arrived for the an- 
 nouncement to Josephine. It was the last day 
 of November, 1809. The emperor and empress 
 dinod at Fontainebleau alone. She seems to 
 have had a presentiment that her doom was 
 sealed, for all that day she had been in her re- 
 tired apartment, weeping bitterly. As the din- 
 ner-hour approached, she bathed her swollen 
 eyes, and tried to regain composure. They sat 
 down at the table in silence. Napoleon did not 
 speak. Josephine could not trust her voice to 
 utter a word. Neither ate a mouthful. Course 
 after course was brought in and removed un- 
 touched. A mortal paleness revealed the an- 
 guisn of each heart. Napoleon, in his embar- 
 rassment, mechanically, and apparently uncon- 
 sciously, struck the edge of his glass with his 
 knife, while lost in thought. A more melan- 
 choly meal probably was never witnessed. The 
 attendants around the table seemed to catch the 
 infection, and moved softly and silently in the 
 discharge of their duties, as if they were in the 
 chamber of the dead. At last the ceremony of 
 dinner was over, the attendants were dismissed, 
 and Napoleon, rising, and closing the door with 
 his own hand, was left alone with Josephine. 
 Another moment of most painful silence ensued.
 
 288 JOSEPHINE. [AD. 1809. 
 
 The communication to Josephine. Efl'ecU thereof 
 
 when the emperor, pale as death, and trembling 
 In every nerve, approaohed the empress. He 
 took her hand, placed it upon his heart, and in 
 faltering accents said, "Josephine! my own 
 good Josephine ! you know how I have loved 
 you. It is to you alone that I owe the only few 
 moments of happiness I have known in the world. 
 Josephine ! my destiny is stronger than my will. 
 My dearest affections must yield to the interests 
 of France." 
 
 Josephine's brain reeled ; her blood ceased to 
 circulate ; she fainted, and fell lifeless upon the 
 floor. Napoleon, alarmed, threw open the door 
 of the saloon, and called for help. Attendants 
 from the ante-room immediately entered. Na- 
 poleon took a taper from the mantel, and utter- 
 ing not a word, but pale and trembling, mo- 
 tioned to the Count de Beaumont to take the 
 empress in his arras. She was still unconscious 
 of every thing, but began to murmur, in tones 
 of anguish, "Oh, no! you can not surely do 
 it. You would not kill me." The emperor led 
 the way, through a dark passage, to the private 
 staircase which conducted to the apartment of 
 the empress. The agitation of Napoleon seemed 
 now to increase. He uttered some incoherent 
 nentenoes about a violent nervous attack ; and,
 
 A.D. 1809.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 289 
 
 imitation of Napoleon. A night of anguUh 
 
 finding the stairs too steep and narrow for the 
 Count de Beaumont to bear the body of the help- 
 less Josephine unassisted, he gave the light to 
 an attendant, and, supporting her limbs himself, 
 they reached the door of her bed-room. Napo- 
 leon then, dismissing his male attendants, and 
 laying Josephine upon her bed, rang for her 
 waiting- women. He hung over her with an ex- 
 pression of the most intense affection and anxi- 
 ety until she began to revive. But the moment 
 consciousness seemed returning, he left the room. 
 Napoleon did not even throw himself upon his 
 bed that night. He paced the floor until the 
 dawn of the morning. The royal surgeon, Cor- 
 visart, passed the night at the bed-side of the 
 empress. Every hour the restless yet unrelent- 
 ing emperor called at her door to inquire con- 
 cerning her situation. " On recovering from 
 my swoon," says Josephine, " I perceived that 
 Corvisart was in attendance, and my poor 
 daughter, Hortense, weeping over me. Noi 
 no ! I can not describe the horror of my situa- 
 tion during that night ! Even the interest he 
 affected to take in my sufferings seemed to me 
 additional cruelty. Oh ! how much reason had 
 [ to dread becoming an empress !" 
 
 A ^rtoight now passed away, during which 
 1919
 
 290 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1809. 
 
 AnnlrerMiy of the rlctory at Austerlltz. Eugene summoned from Italy 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine saw but little of each 
 other. During this time there occurred the an- 
 niversary of the coronation, and of the victory 
 of Austerlitz. Paris was filled with rejoicing. 
 The bells rang their merriest peals. The me- 
 tropolis was refulgent with illuminations. In 
 these festivities Josephine was compelled to ap- 
 pear. She knew that the sovereigns and prin- 
 ces then assembled hi Paris were informed of 
 her approaching disgrace. In all these sound? 
 of triumph she heard but the knell of her own 
 doom. And though a careful observer would 
 have detected indications, in her moistened eye 
 and her pallid cheek, of the secret woe which 
 w&s consuming her heart, her habitual affabil- 
 ity and grace never, in public, for one moment 
 forsook her. Hortense, languid and sorrow- 
 stricken, was with her mother. 
 
 Eugene was summoned from Italy. He 
 hastened to Paris, and his first interview was 
 with his mother. From her saloon he went di- 
 rectly to the cabinet of Napoleon, and inquired 
 of the emperor if he had decided to obtain a di- 
 vorce from the empress. Napoleon, who was 
 very strongly attached to Eugene, made no re- 
 ply, but pressed his hand as an expression that 
 it was so. Eugene immediately dropped the 
 of thp emperor, and said.
 
 AJD. 1809.J DIVORCE AND LAST BAYS, 
 
 brterriew with Napoleon. He U not without feeling 
 
 " Sire, in that case, permit me to withdraw 
 from your service." 
 
 " How !" exclaimed Napoleon, looking upon 
 him sadly ; " will you, Eugene, my adopted 
 on, leave me ?" 
 
 " Yes, sire," Eugene replied, firmly ; " the 
 son of her who is no longer empress can not re- 
 main viceroy. I will follow my mother into her 
 retreat. She must now find her consolation in 
 her children." 
 
 Napoleon was not without feelings. Tears 
 filled his eyes. In a mournful voice, tremulous 
 with emotion, he replied, " Eugene, you know 
 the stern necessity which compels this measure, 
 and will you forsake me ? Who, then, should 
 I have a son, the object of my desires and pre- 
 server of my interests, who would watch over 
 the child when I am absent? If I die, who 
 will prove to him a father ? Who will bring 
 him up ? Who is to make a man of him ?" 
 
 Eugene was deeply affected, and, taking 
 Napoleon's arm, they retired and conversed a 
 long time together. The noble Josephine, ever 
 sacrificing her own feelings to promote the hap- 
 piness of others, urged her son to remain the 
 friend of Napoleon. " The emperor," she said, 
 "is your benefactor your more than father,
 
 292 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1809 
 
 The eouncfl assembled. AddreM of Napoleo*. 
 
 to whom you are indebted for every thing, and 
 to whom, therefore, you owe a boundless obedi- 
 ence." 
 
 The fatal day for the consummation of the 
 divoroe at length arrived. It was the 15th of 
 December, 1809. Napoleon had assembled all 
 the kings, princes, and princesses who were 
 members of the imperial family, and also the 
 most illustrious officers of the empire, in the 
 grand saloon of the Tuilleries. Every individ- 
 ual present was oppressed with the melancholy 
 grandeur of the occasion. Napoleon thus ad- 
 dressed them : 
 
 " The political interests of my monarchy, 
 the wishes of my people, which have constantly 
 guided my actions, require that I should trans- 
 mit to an heir, inheriting my love for the peo- 
 ple, the throne on which Providence has placed 
 me. For many years I have lost all hopes of 
 having children by my beloved spouse, the Em- 
 press Josephine. It is this consideration which 
 induces me to sacrifice the sweetest affections 
 of my heart, to consult only the good of my 
 subjects, and to desire the dissolution of our 
 marriage. Arrived at the age of forty years, I 
 may indulge a reasonable hope of living long 
 enough to rear, in the spirit of mv own thought*
 
 A.D.1809.] DIVOR CE AND LAST DAYS. 293 
 
 He is still the friend of Josephine. Her regponsa 
 
 and disposition, the children with which it may 
 please Providence to bless me. God knows 
 what such a determination has cost my heart ; 
 but there is no sacrifice which is above my 
 courage, when it is proved to be for the inter- 
 ests of France. Far from having any cause 
 of complaint, I have nothing to say but in praise 
 of the attachment and tenderness of my beloved 
 wife. She has embellished fifteen years of my 
 life, and the remembrance of them will be for- 
 ever engraven on my heart. She was crowned 
 by my hand ; she shall retain always the rank 
 and title of empress. Above all, let her never 
 doubt my feelings, or regard me but as her best 
 and dearest friend." 
 
 Josephine, her eyes filled with tears, with a 
 faltering voice, replied, "I respond to all the 
 tentiments of the emperor in consenting to the 
 dissolution of a marriage which henceforth is 
 an obstacle to the happiness of France, by de- 
 priving it of the blessing of being one day gov- 
 erned by the descendants of that great man 
 who was evidently raised up by Providence to 
 efface the evils of a terrible revolution, and to 
 restore the altar, and the throne, and social or- 
 der. But his marriage will in no respect change 
 the sentiments of my heart. The empercr wilJ
 
 294 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1809 
 
 The council again ase mbled. Conrammation of the divorce. 
 
 ever find in me his best friend. I know what 
 this act, commanded by policy and exalted in- 
 terests, has cost his heart, but we both glory in 
 the sacrifices we make for the good of the coun- 
 try. I feel elevated in giving the greatest proof 
 of attachment and devotion that was ever giv- 
 en upon earth." 
 
 Such were the sentiments which were ex- 
 pressed in public ; but in private Josephine sur- 
 rendered herself to the unrestrained dominion 
 of her anguish. No language can depict the 
 intensity of her woe. For six months she wept 
 so incessantly that her eyes were nearly blind- 
 ed with grief. Upon the ensuing day the ooun 
 oil were again assembled in the grand saloon, 
 to witness the legal consummation of the di- 
 vorce. The emperor entered the room dressed 
 in the imposing robes of state, but pallid, care- 
 worn, and wretched. Low tones of voice, har- 
 monizing with the mournful scene, filled the 
 room. Napoleon, apart by himself, leaned 
 against a pillar, folded his arms upon his breast, 
 and, in perfect silence, apparently lost in gloomy 
 thought, remained motionless as a statue. A 
 circular table was placed in the center of th 
 apartment, and upon this there was a writing 
 apparatus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stood
 
 A..D.1809.] DIVORCE AND LAST DATS. 295 
 
 Entrance of Josephine. Emotion of Hcrtente. 
 
 before the table. Never did a multitude gaze 
 upon the scaffold, the block, or the guillotine 
 with more awe than the assembled lords and 
 ladies in this gorgeous saloon contemplated these 
 Instruments of a more dreadful execution. 
 
 At length the mournful silence was interrupt- 
 ed by the opening of a side door and the en- 
 trance of Josephine. The pallor of death was 
 upon her brow, and the submission of despair 
 nerved her into a temporary calmness. She 
 was leaning upon the arm of Hortense, who ; 
 not possessing the fortitude of her mother, was 
 entirely unable to control her feelings. The 
 sympathetic daughter, immediately upon enter- 
 Vng into the room, burst into tears, and contin- 
 ued sobbing most convulsively during the whole 
 remaining scene. The assembly respectfully 
 arose upon the entrance of Josephine, and all 
 were moved to tears. With that grace which 
 ever distinguished her movements, she advanced 
 silently to the seat provided for her. Sitting 
 down, and leaning her forehead upon her hand, 
 he listened to the reading of the act of separa- 
 tion. Nothing disturbed the sepulchral silence 
 of the scene but the convulsive sobbings of Her- 
 tense, blending with the mournful tones of the 
 reader's voice Eugene, in the mean time, pale
 
 2% JOSEPHINE. [A.D 1809 
 
 Josephine signs the divorce. Anguish of Eugene 
 
 and trembling as an aspen leaf, had taken a po- 
 sition by the side of his mother. Silent tears 
 were trickling down the cheeks of the empress. 
 
 As soon as the reading of the act of separa- 
 tion was finished, Josephine for a moment press- 
 ed her handkerchief to her weeping eyes, and 
 then, rising, in clear and musical, but tremulous 
 tones, pronounced the oath of acceptance. She 
 then sat down, took the pen, and affixed her sig- 
 nature to the deed which sundered the dearest 
 hopes and the fondest ties which human hearts 
 can feel. Poor Eugene could endure this an- 
 guish no longer. His brain reeled, his heart 
 ceased to beat, and he fell lifeless upon the floor 
 Josephine and Hortense retired with the at- 
 tendants who bore out the insensible form of 
 the affectionate son and brother. It was a fit- 
 ting termination of this mournful but sublime 
 tragedy. 
 
 But the anguish of the day was not yet closed. 
 Josephine, half delirious with grief, had another 
 oene still more painful to pass through in tak- 
 ing a final adieu of him who had been her hus- 
 oand. She remained in her chamber, in heart- 
 rending, speechless grief, until the hour arrived 
 in which Napoleon usually retired for the right. 
 The emperor, restless and wretched, had \usl
 
 A..D.1809.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 297 
 
 La*t private interview between Josephine and Napoleon. 
 
 placed himself in the bed from which he had 
 ejected his most faithful and devoted wife, and 
 the attendant was on the point of leaving th 
 room, when the private door of his chamber 
 was slowly opened, and Josephine tremblingly 
 entered, Her eyes were swollen with grief, her 
 hair disheveled, and she appeared in all the dis- 
 habille of unutterable anguish. She tottered 
 into the middle of the room, and approached the 
 bed ; then, irresolutely stopping, she buried her 
 face in her hands, and burst into a flood of tears. 
 A feeling of delicacy seemed for a moment to 
 have arrested her steps a consciousness that 
 she had now no right to enter the chamber of 
 Napoleon ; but in another moment all the pent- 
 up love of her heart burst forth, and, forgetting 
 every thing in the fullness of her anguish, she 
 threw herself upon the bed, clasped Napoleon's 
 neck in her arms, and exclaiming, "My hus 
 oand ! my husband !" sobbed as though her heart 
 were breaking. The imperial spirit of Napo- 
 leon was for the moment entirely vanquished, 
 and he also wept almost convulsively. He as- 
 gured Josephine of his love of his ardent and 
 undying love. In every way he tried to soothe 
 and comfort her, and for some time they remain- 
 ed looked in each other's embrace. The attend-
 
 298 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 
 
 The toil adlem. Mental ai-guish of Napoleon. 
 
 ant was dismissed, and for an hour they con- 
 tinued together in this last private interview. 
 Josephine then, in the experience of an inten- 
 sity of anguish which few hearts have ever 
 known, parted forever from the husband whom 
 *he had so long, so fondly, and so faithfully loved. 
 
 After the empress had retired, with a deso- 
 lated heart, to her chamber of unnatural widow- 
 hood, the attendant entered the apartment of 
 Napoleon to remove the lights. He found the 
 emperor so buried beneath the bed-clothes as to 
 be invisible. Not a word was uttered. The 
 lights were removed, and the unhappy monarch 
 was left in darkness and silence to the dreadful 
 companionship of his own thoughts. The next 
 morning the death-like pallor of his cheek, his 
 sunken eye, and the haggard expression of his 
 countenance, attested that the emperor had 
 passed the night in sleeplessness and suffering. 
 
 Great as was the wrong which Napoleon thus 
 inflicted upon the noble Josephine, every one 
 must be sensible of a certain kind of grandeur 
 which pervades the tragedy. When we con- 
 template the brutal butcheries of Henry VIII., 
 u wife after wife was compelled to place her 
 head upon the block, merely to afford room for 
 the indulgence of his vagrant passions ; when
 
 A.D 1810.J DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 
 
 MaJmaiion aisigned to Josephine a* her ftiture residence. 
 
 we contemplate George IV., by neglect and in- 
 humanity driving Caroline to desperation and 
 to crime, and polluting the ear of the world with 
 the revolting story of sin and shame ; when we 
 contemplate the Bourbons, generation after gen- 
 eration, rioting in voluptuousness, in utter dis- 
 regard of all the laws of God and man, while we 
 can not abate one iota of our condemnation of 
 the great wrong which Napoleon perpetrated, 
 we feel that it becomes the monarchies of Eu- 
 rope to be sparing in their condemnation. 
 
 The beautiful palace of Malmaison, which 
 Napoleon had embellished with every possible 
 attraction, and where the emperor and empress 
 had passed many of their happiest hours, was 
 assigned to Josephine for her future residence. 
 Napoleon settled upon her a jointure of about 
 six hundred thousand dollars a year. She was 
 still to retain the title and the rank of Empress- 
 Queen. 
 
 The ensuing day, at eleven o'clock, all the 
 household of the Tuilleries were assembled upon 
 die grand staircase and in the vestibule, to wit- 
 ness the departure of their beloved mistress from 
 oenes where she had so long been the brightest 
 ornament. Josephine descended, veiled from 
 bead to foot. Her emotions were too deep foi
 
 300 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1810 
 
 Joephlne learei the Tuillerles. Madame de RochfocauJt 
 
 utterance, and she waved an adieu to the affec- 
 tionate and weeping friends who surrounded her. 
 A. close carriage, with six horses, was before the 
 door. She entered it, sank back upon the cush- 
 ions, buried her face in her handkerchief, and, 
 sobbing bitterly, left the Tuilleries forever. 
 
 Josephine was still surrounded with all the 
 external splendors of royalty. She was beloved 
 throughout France, and admired throughout 
 Europe. Napoleon frequently called upon her, 
 though, from motives of delicacy, he never saw 
 her alone. He consulted her respecting all his 
 plans, and most assiduously cherished her friend- 
 ship. It was soon manifest that the surest way 
 of securing the favor of Napoleon was to pay 
 marked attention to Josephine. The palace of 
 Malmaison, consequently, became the favorite 
 resort of all the members of the court of Napo- 
 leon. Soon after the divorce, Madame de Roche- 
 foucault, formerly mistress of the robes to Jose- 
 phine, deserting the forsaken empress, applied 
 for the same post of honor in the household cf 
 Maria Louisa. Napoleon, when he heard of the 
 application, promptly and indignantly replied, 
 " She shall neither retain her old situation nor 
 have the new one. I am accused of ungrateful 
 conduct toward Josephine, but I do not choose
 
 A.D. 1810.J DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 301 
 
 <OMphln iubmlwive to her lot Morning putta 
 
 to have any imitators, more especially among 
 those whom she has honored with her confidence, 
 and overwhelmed with benefits." 
 
 Josephine remained for some time at Mai- 
 naaison. In deeds of kindness to the poor who 
 surrounded her, in reading, and in receiving, 
 with the utmost elegance of hospitality, the 
 members of the court of Napoleon, who were 
 ever crowding her saloons, she gradually re- 
 gained her equanimity of spirit, and surrendered 
 herself entirely to a quiet and pensive submis- 
 sion. Napoleon frequently called to see her, 
 and, taking her arm, he would walk for hours, 
 most confidentially unfolding to her all his plans. 
 He seemed to desire to do every thing in his 
 power to alleviate the intensity of anguish with 
 which he had wrung her heart. His own affec- 
 tions olung still to Josephine, and her lovely and 
 noble character commanded, increasingly, his 
 homage. The empress was very methodical in 
 all her arrangements, allotting to each hour its 
 appointed duty. The description of the routine 
 of any one day would answer about equally 
 well for all. 
 
 Ten o'clock in the morning was fhe reception 
 hour. These morning parties, attended by the 
 most distinguished members of Parisian *oeie-
 
 302 JOBEPHINK. [A.D.1810 
 
 Social habits. Dally routine at Mahwion 
 
 ty, none appearing except in uniform or in oourt 
 costume, were always very brilliant. Soma 
 ten or twelve of the visitors were always pre- 
 viously invited to remain to breakfast. At 
 eleven o'clock they passed from the saloon to 
 the breakfast-room, the empress leading, fol- 
 lowed by her court according to their rank, she 
 naming those who were to sit on her right and 
 ieft. The repast, both at breakfast and dinner, 
 ordinarily consisted of one course only, every 
 thing excepting the dessert being placed upon 
 the table at once. The empress had five at- 
 tendants, who stood behind her chair; all the 
 guests who sat down with her had one each. 
 Seven officials of different ranks served at the 
 table. The breakfast usually occupied three 
 quarters of an hour, when the empress, with 
 her ladies and guests, adjourned to the gallery, 
 which contained the choicest specimens of paint- 
 ing and sculpture which the genius of Napo- 
 leon could select. The prospect from the gal- 
 lery was very commanding, and, in entire free- 
 dom from constraint, all could find pleasant 
 employment. Some examined with delight the 
 varied works of art ; some, in the embrasure* 
 of the windows, looked out upon the lovely 
 scenery, and in subdued tones of voice engaged
 
 AD.1810.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 303 
 
 The tirlnf . The dinner hoar. Mirthful ereninp 
 
 in -conversation ; while the chamberlain in at- 
 tendance read aloud from some useful and en- 
 tertaining volume to Josephine, and those who 
 wished to listen with her. At two o'clock the 
 arrival of the carriages at the door was the sig- 
 nal for the visitors to depart. Three open car- 
 riages, when the weather permitted, were al- 
 ways provided, each drawn by four horses 
 Madame d'Arberg, the lady of honor, one of tho 
 ladies in waiting, and some distinguished guest, 
 accompanied the empress. Two hours were 
 spent in riding, visiting improvements, and con- 
 versing freely with the various employees on 
 the estate. The party then returned to the 
 palace, and all disposed of their time as they 
 pleased until six o'clock, the hour of dinner. 
 From twelve to fifteen strangers were always 
 invited to dine. After dinner the evening was 
 devoted to relaxation, conversation, backgam- 
 mon, and other games. The young ladies, of 
 whom there were always many whom Josephine 
 retained around her, usually, in the course of 
 the evening, withdrew from the drawing-room 
 to a smaller saloon opening from it, where, with 
 unrestrained glee, tney engaged in mirthful 
 sports, or, animated by the music of the piano, 
 mingled in the dance. Sometimes, in the buoy
 
 304 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1810 
 
 Marriage of Napoleon and Maria LouUa. 
 
 anoy of youthful joy, they forgot the demands 
 'of etiquette, and somewhat incommoded, by 
 their merry laughter, the more grave companj 
 in the grand apartment. The lady of honoi 
 would, on such occasions, hint at the necessity 
 of repressing the mirth. Josephine would in- 
 variably interpose in their behalf. " My dear 
 Madame d'Arberg," she would say, "suffei 
 both them and us to enjoy, while we may, all 
 that innocent happiness which comes from the 
 heart, and which penetrates the heart." At 
 eleven o'clock, tea, ices, and sweetmeats were 
 served, and then the visitors took their leavo 
 Josephine sat up an hour later conversing most 
 freely and confidentially with thoss friends who 
 were especially dear to her, and about midnight 
 retired. 
 
 In the month of March, 1810, Maria Louisa 
 arrived in Paris, and her marriage with Napo- 
 leon was celebrated with the utmost splendor 
 at St. Cloud. All Fraace resounded with re- 
 joicing as Napoleon led his youthful bride into 
 the Tuilleries, from whence, but three months 
 before, Josephine had ben so cruelly ejected. 
 The booming of the cannon, the merry poaling 
 of the bells, the acclamations of the populace, 
 Cell heavily upon the heart of Josephine. She
 
 A.D. 1811. DIVORCE AND t AST DAYS. 305 
 
 Birth of the King of Rome. Letter from Josephine. 
 
 tried to conceal -her anguish, but her pallid 
 cheek and swimming eye revealed the seveiity 
 of her sufferings. 
 
 Napoleon continued, however, the frequency 
 of his correspondence, and, notwithstanding the 
 jealousy of Maria Louisa, did not at all inter- 
 mit his visits. In a little more than a year 
 after his marriage the King of Rome was born. 
 The evening in which Josephine received the 
 tidings of his birth, she wrote an affectionate 
 and touching letter to Napoleon, congratulating 
 him upon the event. This letter reveals so 
 conspicuously the magnanimity of her princi- 
 ples, and yet the feminine tenderness of her 
 bleeding heart, that we can not refrain from hi 
 sorting it. It was dated at Navarre, at mid- 
 night, the 20th of March, 1811. 
 
 " SIRE, Amid the numerous felicitations 
 which you receive from every corner of Europe, 
 from all the cities of France, and from each reg- 
 iment of your army, can the feeble voice of a 
 woman reach your ear, and will you deign to 
 listen to her who so often consoled your rrows, 
 and sweetened your pains, now that she 'peaks 
 to you only of that happiness in which all your 
 wishes are fulfilled ? Having ceased to be your 
 
 wife, dare I felicitate you on becoming a father t 
 1920
 
 306 JOSEPHINE. [AD.1811 
 
 Joiephlne'i Interact In the ion of Napoleon. 
 
 Yes, sire, without hesitation, for my soul renders 
 justice to yours, in like manner as you know 
 mine. I can conceive every emotion you must 
 experience, as you divine all that I feel at thia 
 moment, and, though separated, we are united 
 by that sympathy which survives all events. 
 
 " I should have desired to have learned the 
 birth of the King of Rome from yourself, and not 
 from the sound of the cannon of Evreux, or from 
 the courier of the prefect. I know, however, 
 that, in preference to all, your first attentions are 
 due to the public authorities of the state, to the 
 foreign ministers, to your family, and especially 
 to the fortunate princess who has realized your 
 dearest Hopes. She can not be more tenderly 
 devoted co you than I am. But she has been 
 enabled to contribute more toward your happi- 
 ness by securing that of France. She has, then, 
 a right to your first feelings, to all your cares, 
 and J who was but your companion in times of 
 difficulty I can not ask more than for a place 
 in your affections far removed from that occu- 
 pied b T the empress, Maria Louisa. Not til] 
 you have ceased to watch bv her bed not till 
 you are weary of emoracing your son, will yon 
 take the pen to converse with your best friend 
 I will wait.
 
 A..D.181L] DIVORCE AND LAST DATS. 307 
 
 Her joy at hl fclrtk Hw dedre for la anuMam 
 
 " Meanwhile, it is not possible for me to de- 
 lay telling you that, more than any one in the 
 world, do I rejoioe in your joy. And you will 
 not doubt my sincerity when I here say that, 
 far from feeling an affliction at a sacrifice nec- 
 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 yon 
 mnlimited confidence, and upon such I have 
 lome claims, in consideration, sire, of the bound* 
 less attachment I shall cherish for you while life 
 remains." 
 
 She had but just dispatched this letter to Na- 
 poleon, when the folding-doors were thrown open 
 with much state, and the announcement, " From
 
 508 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 181L 
 
 i letter from H ipoloo*. Dep emotion of Josephine 
 
 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 her 
 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 stil 1 held in 
 her hand, was blurred with her 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 
 to her friends. The concluding words of the 
 note were, " This infant, in concert with our 
 Eugene, will constitute my happiness and that 
 of France." As Josephine read these word* 
 with emphasis, she exclaimed, " Is it possible
 
 A..D.1811] DIVORCE AND LAST DAIS. 309 
 
 Amiability of Napoleo. Ha piww&ti til* KID to Jophlnv 
 
 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 delight- 
 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 effaced, for a time, the recollection of 
 ill that had preceded it, for never have I re 
 oeired from you a more touching mark of af- 
 fection." 
 
 The apartment at Malmaison which Napo- 
 leon had formerly occupied remained exactly 
 o it was when he last left it Josephine her*
 
 810 JOSEIHINE. JA.D.181L 
 
 Oener jug conduct of Josephine. Letter to her itipartntrndeol 
 
 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 waa 
 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 
 lilaohs. In the center of the panels you will 
 place my fine engravings from Esther, and no-
 
 A..D. 1811.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 311 
 
 Refined tut* of Josephine. 
 
 der each of these a portrait of the distinguished 
 generals of the Revolution. In the center of 
 the apartment there must be a large flower- 
 etand, 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 the 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- 
 s6e, 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 
 rases, and double-branched girandoles. Unite 
 elegance 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 
 spot an agreeable retreat, where I may modi-
 
 312 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 18ia 
 
 GoatiBMd (itef of JoMphiae. Palace of Naram 
 
 tate, sleep it may be, but oftenest read, wkih 
 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. The 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 lottei 
 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 Napoleon. Josephine desire* repowj 
 
 " SIRE, 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 its 
 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 the 
 means of consoling me under a separation ne- 
 cessary to the tranquillity of both. The thought 
 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? Ali 
 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 here, dia-
 
 314 JOSE/HINE. [AD. 1813 
 
 Oocuptioiii of Josephine at Navarre. M. Bonrller 
 
 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, I 
 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 
 are 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 who unites the most enlightened 
 benevolence with the most amiable disposition 
 He shall be intrusted with distributing my alms- 
 deeds in Evreux, and, as he visits the indigent
 
 A.D. 1813.] DivokcE AKD LAST DAYS. 315 
 
 Character of Josephine*! household, 
 
 himself, I shall be assured that my oharitiea 
 are properly bestowed. 
 
 " I can not sufficiently thank you, sire, for 
 the liberty you have permitted me of choosing 
 the 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 sincere 
 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 mor 
 numerous than usual, there being several visit* 
 ira, betides many of the inhabitants of Evreui
 
 316 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1813 
 
 Conversation between Napoleon and Josephine. 
 
 and the environs, whom I see of course. I am 
 pleased with their manners, with their admira- 
 tion of you, a particular in which you know 
 that I am not easily satisfied. In short, I find 
 tnyself perfectly at home in the midst of my 
 forest, and entreat you, sire, no longer to fancy 
 to yourself that there is no living at a distance 
 from court. Besides you, there is nothing there 
 which I regret, since I shall have my children 
 with me soon, and already enjoy the society of 
 the small number of friends who remained faith- 
 ful to me. Do not forget your friend. Tell 
 her sometimes that you preserve for her an at- 
 tachment which constitutes the felicity of her 
 life. Often repeat to her that you are happy, 
 and be assured that for her the future will thus 
 be peaceful, as the past has been stormy, and 
 often sad." 
 
 Just before Napoleon set out on his fatal cam- 
 paign to Russia, he called to see Josephine. 
 Seated upon a circular bench in the garden, be^ 
 fore the windows of the saloon, where they could 
 both be seen but not overheard, they continued 
 for two hours engaged most earnestly in conver- 
 sation. Josephine was apparently endeavoring 
 to dissuade him from the perilous enterprise. 
 His perfect confidence, however seemed to a-
 
 A.D. 1813.) DIVORCE A ND LAST DAYS. 317 
 
 Their lait Interrtew. Napoleon continues hi* correspondence 
 
 sure her that her apprehensions were groundless 
 At last he arose and kissed her hand. She ac- 
 companied him to his carriage, and bade him 
 adieu. This was their last interview but one. 
 Soon Napoleon returned, a fugitive from Mos- 
 cow. Days of disaster were darkening around 
 his path. All Europe had risen in arms against 
 him, and were on the march toward his capital. 
 In the midst of the terror of those dreadful days, 
 he sought a hurried interview with his most 
 faithful friend. It was their last meeting. As 
 he was taking his leave of Josephine, at the close 
 of this short and melancholy visit, he gazed upon 
 her a moment in silence, tenderly and sadly, and 
 then said, " Josephine ! I have been as fortunate 
 as was ever man on the face of this earth. But, 
 in this hour, when a storm is gathering over my 
 head, I have not, in this wide world, any one but 
 you upon whom I can repose." 
 
 In the fearful conflict which ensued the most 
 terrible which history has recorded Napoleon'i 
 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. Hit 
 Betters, written in the midst of all the confusion 
 of ttoe camp, were more affectionate and confid- 
 ing than ever. Adversity had softened his heart
 
 318 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1813. 
 
 Dayi of diMiteK Approach of the allied arml<* 
 
 In these dark days, when, with most Herculean 
 power, he was struggling against fearful odds, 
 and his throne was crumbling beneath his feet, 
 it was observed that a letter from Josephine was 
 rather torn than broken open, so great was the 
 eagerness of Napoleon to receive a line from her. 
 Wherever he was, however great the emergen- 
 cy in which he was placed, the moment a cour- 
 ier brought to him a letter from Josephine, all 
 other business was laid aside until it had been 
 read. 
 
 The allied armies were every day approach- 
 ing nearer and nearer to Paris, and Josephine 
 was overwhelmed with grief in contemplating 
 the disasters which were falling upon Napoleon. 
 At Malmaison, Josephine and the ladies of her 
 court were employed in forming bandages and 
 scraping lint for the innumerable wounded who 
 filled the hospitals. The conflicting armies ap- 
 proached so near to Malmaison that it became 
 dangerous for Josephine to remain there, and, in 
 great apprehension, she one morning, at eight 
 o'clock, took her carriage for Navarre. Two or 
 three times m the road she was alarmed by the 
 ory, "Cossacks! Cossacks!" 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 
 
 Harm of Josephine. Accident Jowphlne at JCTmrre 
 
 horsemen appeared in the distance, riding down 
 upon her. They were French hussars ; but Jo- 
 sephine thought that they were either Cossacks 
 er Prussians, and, though the rain was falling 
 in torrents, in her terror she leaped from the 
 carriage, and began to fly across the fields. She 
 had proceeded some distance before her attend- 
 ants discovered the mistake. The carriage be- 
 ing repaired, she proceeded the rest of her way 
 unmolested. The empress hardly uttered a 
 word during this melancholy journey, but upon 
 entering the palace she threw herself upon a 
 couch, exclaiming, "Surely, surely Bonaparte 
 is ignorant of what is passing within sight of 
 the gates of Paris, or, if he knows, how cruel 
 the thoughts which must now agitate his breast ! 
 Oh ! if he had listened to me." 
 
 Josephine remained for some days at Navarre, 
 in a state of most painful anguish respecting the 
 fate of the emperor. She allowed herself no re- 
 laxation, excepting a solitary ride each morning 
 in the park, and another short ride after dinner 
 with one of her ladies. The Emperor Alexan- 
 der had immediately sent a guard of honor tc 
 protect Josephine from all intrusion. Hundreds 
 of thousands of soldiers were swarming in all di. 
 rections, and every dwelling was filled with ter-
 
 320 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1814 
 
 A melancholy Incident Brutality of the Cogsackj. 
 
 ror and distraction. One melancholy incident 
 we will record, illustrative of hundreds which 
 might be narrated. Lord Londonderry, in the 
 midst of a bloody skirmish, saw a young and 
 beautiful French lady, the wife of a colonel, in 
 a caleche, seized by three brutal Russian sol- 
 diers, who were carrying off, into the fields, their 
 frantic and shrieking victim. The gallant En- 
 glishman, sword in hand, rushed forward for her 
 deliverance from his barbarian allies. He suc- 
 ceeded in rescuing her, and, in the confusion of 
 the battle still raging, ordered a dragoon to take 
 her to his own quarters till she could be provided 
 with suitable protection. The dragoon took the 
 lady, half dead with terror, upon his horse be- 
 hind him, and was galloping with her to a place 
 of safety, when another ruffian band of Cossacks 
 surrounded him, pierced his body with their sa- 
 bers, and seized again the unhappy victim. She 
 was never heard of more. The Emperor Alex- 
 ander was greatly distressed at her fate, and 
 made the utmost, though unavailing efforts to 
 discover what had become of her. The revela- 
 tions of the last day alone can divulge the hor- 
 rors of this awful tragedy. 
 
 The grief of Josephine in these days of anxi- 
 ety was intense in the extreme. She passed
 
 A.D. 1814.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 321 
 
 Affecting note from Napoleon. HU downfall 
 
 her whole time in talking about Napoleon, or in 
 reading the letters she had lately received from 
 him. He wrote frequently, as he escaped from 
 place to place, but many of his letters were in- 
 tercepted by the bands of soldiers traversing ev- 
 ery road The last she had received from him 
 was dated at Brienne. It gave an account of a 
 desperate engagement, in which the little band 
 of Napoleon had been overwhelmed by numbers, 
 and was concluded with the following affecting 
 words: "On beholding those scenes where I 
 had passed my boyhood, and comparing my 
 peaceful condition then with the agitation and 
 terrors which I now experience, I several times 
 said, in my own mind, I have sought to meet 
 death in many conflicts ; I can no longer fear it. 
 To me death would now be a blessing. But I 
 would once more see Josephine " 
 
 Notwithstanding the desperate state of affairs, 
 Josephine still cherished the hope that his com- 
 manding genius would yet enable him to re 
 trieve his fortunes. All these hopes were, how 
 ever, dispelled on the receipt of the following 
 letter : 
 
 Fontalnebleau, April 16, 1114. 
 
 "DEAR JOSEPHINE, I wrote to you on the 
 eighth of this month, but perhaos you have not 
 1921
 
 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 18U 
 
 Letter from Napoleon to Joiephine. Falte friend* 
 
 received my letter. Hostilities still continued, 
 and possibly it may have been intercepted. Av 
 present the communications must be re-estab- 
 lished. I have formed my resolution. I have 
 no doubt that this billet will reach you. I will 
 not repeat what I said to you. Then I lament- 
 ed my situation, now I congratulate myself upon 
 it. My head and spirit are freed from an enor- 
 mous weight. My fall is great, but it may, as 
 men say, prove useful. In my retreat I shall 
 substitute the pen for the sword. The history 
 of my reign will be curious. The world has yet 
 -een me only in profile. I shall show myself in 
 full. How many things have I to disclose ! how 
 many are the men of whom a false estimate is 
 entertained ! I have heaped benefits upon mill- 
 ions of wretches ! What have they done in the 
 end for me ? They have all betrayed me yes, 
 all. I except from this number the good Eu- 
 gene, so worthy of you and of me. Adieu ! my 
 dear Josephine. Be resigned as I am, and nev- 
 er forget him who never forgot, and never wil] 
 'irget you. Farewell, Josephine. 
 
 "NAPOLEON. 
 
 "P.S. I expect to hear from you at Elb* 
 I am not very well"
 
 A.D 1814.] DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 323 
 
 iMephlne resolves not to abandon Napoleon. Honor paid to Josephine. 
 
 Upon reading these tidings of so terrible an 
 overthrow, Josephine was overwhelmed with 
 grief, and for a time wept bitterly. Soon, how- 
 ever, recovering her self-possession, she ex- 
 claimed, " I must not remain here. My pres- 
 ence is necessary to the emperor. That duty is, 
 indeed, more Maria Louisa's than mine, but the 
 emperor is alone forsaken. Well, I at least 
 will not abandon him. I might be dispensed 
 with while he was happy ; now, I am sure that 
 he expects me." After a pause of a few mo- 
 ments, in which she seemed absorbed in her own 
 thoughts, she addressed her chamberlain, say- 
 ing, "I may, however, interfere with his ar- 
 rangements. You will remain here with me 
 till intelligence be received from the allied sov- 
 ereigns ; they will respect her who was the wife 
 of Napoleon." 
 
 She was, indeed, remembered by them. The 
 magnanimity of her conduct under the deep 
 wrongs of the divorce had filled Europe with 
 admiration. The allied sovereigns sent her as- 
 surances of their most friendly regards. They 
 entreated her to return to Malrnaison, and pro- 
 vided her with an ample guard for her protec- 
 tion. Her court was ever crowded with the 
 most illustrious monarchs and nobles, who
 
 JOSEPHINE. (A.D. L814, 
 
 CommendatioB of Alexander. Letter to Napoleon 
 
 sought a presentation to do homage to her vh- 
 tues. The Emperor Alexander was one of the 
 first to visit her. He said to her on that occa- 
 sion, " Madam, I burned with the desire of 
 beholding you. Since I entered France, I have 
 never heard your name pronounced but with 
 benedictions. In the cottage and in the palace 
 I have collected accounts of your angelic good- 
 ness, and I do myself a pleasure in thus pre- 
 senting to your majesty the universal homage 
 of which I am the bearer." 
 
 Maria Louisa, thinking only of self, declined 
 accompanying Napoleon to his humble retreat. 
 Josephine, not knowing her decision, wrote to 
 the emperor : " Now only can I calculate the 
 whole extent of the misfortune of having beheld 
 my union with you dissolved by law. Now do 
 I indeed lament being no more than your friend, 
 who can but mourn over a misfortune great as 
 it is unexpected. Ah ! sire, why can I not fly 
 to you? Why can I not give you the assur- 
 ance that exile has no terrors save for vulgar 
 minds, and that, far from diminishing a sincere 
 attachment, misfortune imparts to it a new 
 force ? I have been upon the point of quitting 
 France to follow your footsteps, and to conse- 
 arate to von the remainder of an existence
 
 A.D 1814.] DIVORCE AND L> sx DAYS. 323 
 
 niustrioui party at Malmalaoo. Illness of Joephlne> 
 
 which you so long embellished. A single mo- 
 tive restrained me, and that you may divine. 
 If I learn that I am the only one who will ful- 
 fill her duty, nothing shall detain me, and 1 
 will go to the only place where, henceforth, 
 there can be happiness for me, since I shall be 
 able to console you when you are there isolated 
 and unfortunate ! Say but the word, and I de- 
 part Adieu, sire ; whatever I would add 
 would still be too little. It is no longer by 
 wmds that my sentiments for you are to be 
 proved, and for actiov* your consent is neces- 
 sary." 
 
 A few days after this letter was written, the 
 Emperor Alexander, with a number of illustri- 
 ous guests, dined with Josephine at Malmai- 
 son. In the evening twilight, the party went 
 out upon the beautiful lawn in front of the 
 house for recreation. Josephine, whose health 
 had become exceedingly precarious through care 
 and sorrow, being regardless of herself in devo- 
 tion to her friends, took a violent cold. The 
 aext day she was worse. Without any very 
 definite form of disease, she day after day grew 
 more faint and feeble, until it was evident that 
 her final change was near at hand. Eugena 
 nd Hortense, her most affectionate children,
 
 326 JOSEPHINE. [A.D. 1814 
 
 Jotephine always deiired the happlnesi of France. Affecting prayer 
 
 were with her by day and by night. They 
 communicated to her the judgment of her phy- 
 sician that death was near. She heard the 
 tidings with perfect composure, and called for 
 a clergyman to administer to her the last rites 
 of religion. 
 
 Just after this solemnity the Emperor Alex- 
 ander entered the room. Eugene and Hortense, 
 bathed in tears, were kneeling at their mother's 
 side. Josephine beckoned to the emperor to 
 approach her, and said to him and her children, 
 " I have always desired the happiness of France. 
 I did all in my power to contribute t it ; and 
 J can say with truth, to all of you now present, 
 at my last moments, that the first wife of Na- 
 poleon never caused a single tear to flow." 
 
 She called for the portrait of the emperor ; 
 she gazed upon it long and tenderly ; and then, 
 fervently pressing it in her clasped hands to her 
 bosom, faintly articulated the following prayer : 
 
 " O God ! watch over Napoleon while he re- 
 mains in the desert of this world. Alas ! though 
 he hath committed great faults, hath he not 
 expiated them by great sufferings ? Just God, 
 thou hast looked into his heart, and hast seen 
 by how ardent a desire for useful and durable 
 improvements he was animate* 3 . lcign w. p-
 
 A.D.lbl4. DIVORCE AND LAST DAYS. 327 
 
 Death of Joephina Tribute to her memory by *laiink>. 
 
 prove my last petition. And may this image 
 of my husband bear me witness that my latest 
 wish and my latest prayer were for him and 
 my children." 
 
 It was the 29th of May, 1814. A tranquil 
 summer's day was fading away into a cloud- 
 less, serene, and beautiful evening. The rays 
 of the setting sun, struggling through the foli- 
 age of the open window, shone cheerfully upon 
 the bed where the empress was dying. The 
 vesper songs of the birds which filled the groves 
 of Malmaison floated sweetly upon the ear, and 
 the gentle spirit of Josephine, lulled to repose 
 by these sweet anthems, sank into its last sleep. 
 Gazing upon the portrait of the emperor, she 
 exclaimed, " L'isle d'Elbe Napoleon!" and 
 died. 
 
 Alexander, as he gazed upon her lifeless re- 
 mains, burst into tears, and uttered the follow- 
 ing affecting yet just tribute of respect to her 
 memory : " She is no more ; that woman whom 
 France named the beneficent, that angel of 
 goodness, is no more. Those who have known 
 Josephine can never forget her. She dies re- 
 gretted by her offspring, her friends, and her 
 ootemporaries." 
 
 For four days her body remained shrouded
 
 92$ JOSEPHINE. f A.D. 1814 
 
 Funeral ceremonle*. Monumental Inscription. 
 
 in state for its burial. During this time more 
 than twenty thousand of the people of France 
 visited her beloved remains. On the 2d of 
 Tune, at mid-day, the funeral procession moved 
 from Malmaison to Ruel, where the body was 
 deposited in a tomb of the village church. The 
 funeral services were conducted with the great- 
 est magnificence, as the sovereigns of the allied 
 armies united with the French in doing honor 
 to her memory. When all had left the church 
 but Eugene and Hortense, they knelt beside 
 their mother's grave, and for a long time min- 
 gled their prayers and their tears. A beautiful 
 monument of white marble, representing the 
 empress kneeling in her coronation robes, it 
 erected over her burial-place, with this simple 
 but affecting inscription : 
 
 EUGENE AND HORTEN8B 
 
 TO 
 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 
 TKB EHfc.
 
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