HISTORICAL AND SECRET 
 MEMOIRS OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 
 
 VOL. I
 
 ISAAC FOOT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Edition strictly limited to 500 copies. 
 
 Five extra copies have been printed on Japanese vellum, but 
 are not offered for sale.
 
 mMwm&Mmm
 
 ~7A r-. O ' 
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORICAL AND SECRET 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 
 
 (Marie Rose Tascher de La Pagerie) 
 
 BY 
 
 Mdlle. M. a. LE NORMAND 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES— VOLUME I 
 
 ,'-x^^ 
 
 LONDON 
 
 H. S. NICHOLS 
 
 3 SOHO SQUARE and 62A PICCADILLY W. 
 
 MDCCCXCV
 
 Printed and Published by 
 
 H. S. NICHOLS, 
 3 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.
 
 PUBLISHER'S NOTE 
 
 There still exist large masses of material, 
 interesting and abundant, but little known and 
 difficult to procure, for the history and illustration 
 not only of celebrated Courts and epochs, but of 
 the lives of the illustrious individuals which ren- 
 dered them famous. 
 
 This fact, and the favourable reception accorded 
 the Court Memoir Series, encourages me to believe 
 that, while that series will continue to appear un- 
 interruptedly, one of a supplemental character, to be 
 distinguished as the " Historic Memoir Series," 
 would be received with favour and appreciation, and 
 be found deserving of equal success. 
 
 I have, therefore, determined upon the publica- 
 tion of such a series of individual or personal 
 narratives of celebrities under the distinctive title 
 just given. 
 
 Each volume will be carefully edited, and, as 
 heretofore, each issue limited to Five Hundred 
 copies. 
 
 The new series again commences with an 
 account of the principal events of the life of the 
 Empress Josephine. The subject is one of undying
 
 VI PUBLISHER S NOTE 
 
 interest. Her devotion to her husband and her 
 adopted country, the self-abnegation of this illus- 
 trious woman, whom, in the words of the Emperor 
 Alexander, " France hath surnamed ' the Good,' " 
 invest the touching story with irresistible fascination. 
 
 On the other hand, the fresh light thrown 
 upon the circumstances of the divorce, and the 
 elucidation of many of the hidden springs of con- 
 duct on the part of one who imagined himself 
 destined to become the Master of the Universe, 
 will unquestionably prove valuable to the historian. 
 
 This narrative, which may be regarded as com- 
 plementary to the "Court Memoirs" of Madame 
 Ducrest, already published, is written in an affecting 
 and sympathetic manner by Mdlle. Le Normand. 
 It is enriched with copious notes, for many of 
 which documents owing their origin to the Empress 
 herself have furnished the material. 
 
 The work originally appeared in French in 
 1818, and comprises the whole period of the 
 Empress's life. An American, Jacob M. Howard, 
 translated it into English in 1848, and it was then 
 published in Philadelphia. A second edition ap- 
 peared in 1852. Since that date, these Memoirs 
 have not until now appeared in English. 
 
 This edition has been prepared from the first 
 of those above mentioned, many notes, which, it 
 is trusted, will enhance its value, having been 
 added. 
 
 London, 315^ /»6'> 1895.
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER 
 
 To His Majesty Alexanuek, Emperor of all the 
 RussL^s, King of Poland. 
 
 Sire, — Your Majesty, wholly occupied in promoting 
 the happiness of your subjects, daily adds to your fame 
 the glory which is reflected by enlightened princes who 
 deign to protect literature and the arts ; but the trump 
 of fame will never cease to repeat — future generations 
 will learn with surprise and admiration — the fact that 
 Your Majesty, anxious to establish, in a durable manner, 
 the happiness of nations, tore himself from a people by 
 whom he was adored, to achieve the overthrow and 
 humiliation of that celebrated man who had reached the 
 summit of power, and established his empire on the ruins 
 of republican factions. How did he reach that elevation ? 
 What did he do to attain so much greatness ? Surely 
 he was gifted with an active, energetic mind, a capacity 
 for great things. He was not among the murderers of 
 his King; and yet the blood of the virtuous Louis XVI. 
 was the original cement of the throne of the modern 
 Gengis-Khan. For years had France stood in need of a 
 master. Her citizens were depressed and discouraged. 
 Napoleon, environed with military glory, appeared ; he 
 astonished all; and the different parties which, in 1814, 
 united to overthrow him, then all concurred in the estab- 
 lishment of his power. 
 
 The dark policy of Bonaparte knew no arbiter but the
 
 Vlll DEDICATORY LETTER 
 
 sword. Strength enabled him to overcome virtue ; and 
 justice, often down-trodden, disappeared beneath the con- 
 queror's steel. 
 
 Precious monuments and museums attested the con- 
 queror's taste for magnificence and luxury, enriched as 
 he was by the spoils of Europe ; but the giant who 
 sought to rule the whole world was not even master of 
 his own will. A slave to the caprices of his flatterers, 
 he often fell into their snares without perceiving them. 
 At a time when fortune seemed to favour Napoleon, while 
 he still thought himself happy and successful, unforeseen 
 reverses overtook him, and extinguished, by degrees, the 
 brightness of his glory. He surely might have displayed 
 more courage in adversity ; but he was not endowed with 
 that constancy which characterises and forms a hero. His 
 movements were out of the ordinary line ; they were by 
 turns brilliant, obscure, bold, pusillanimous, changeful, 
 incomprehensible. The future alone will show the true 
 cause which impelled him, and the real object he wished 
 to attain. 
 
 Your Majesty has presented to the world a sublime 
 spectacle of kindness and generosity. When your enemy's 
 vessel was under full sail you deigned to warn him of the 
 hidden rocks which lay in his course ; and when he had 
 hurled himself into the abyss, you stretched forth a help- 
 ing hand to the people of France. Master of their capital, 
 you saved it, actuated by the interests with which a brave 
 and unhappy people inspired you. The illustrious grand- 
 son of the immortal Catherine wore upon our ramparts the 
 loops of Minerva only to protect our arts, our workshops, 
 our academies, and to diffuse around him sentiments of 
 joy and admiration. From age to age will our contempo- 
 raries and our posterity recall those memorable events. 
 Men will never forget the august and generous Alex- 
 ander deigned to visit the forsaken wife of Bonaparte, 
 and that, in honouring her with his presence, he proved 
 how much and how sincerely he admired her, not only
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER IX 
 
 for the good she had done, but the evil she had prevented 
 in the country which was her home. 
 
 Such evidences of Your Majesty's especial kindness were 
 a heahng balm to the wounds of her afflicted heart ; they 
 soothed the last troubled moments of her life ; and when 
 she left this world— a world in which she had nothing more 
 to expect or to hope — she had, at least, the consolation of 
 carrying with her, into the tomb, the consciousness of 
 having relieved misfortune ; and also that other conscious- 
 ness, still dearer to every feeling heart — as she herself said 
 with her dying breath — of never having caused a tear to flow. 
 
 The Secret Memoirs of her life, which I am about to 
 publish, were, in a great measure, prepared by herself, and 
 this is the reason which has determined me to place them 
 under the special protection of Your Majesty. I have 
 presumed to dedicate them, less to the Sovereign of all the 
 Russias, than to that enlightened man who needs not the 
 radiance of a throne to add to the splendour of his cha- 
 racter ; it is to the philosophic hero who, after having 
 furnished to kings examples of true policy, and to warriors 
 high evidences of attainment in their art, might dictate, 
 even to the best writers, lessons of true taste and refinement. 
 
 Permit me to hope that the work which I have the 
 honour to present to you, may make its appearance under 
 the auspices and patronage of the greatest of Sovereigns. 
 
 But, Sire, however you may regard this request, you 
 have here before you the historical collection which 
 Josephine undertook. She consecrated it to France, and 
 I lay this homage at the feet of Your Majesty. Although 
 the different epochs in the private and public life of the 
 first wife of Bonaparte may appear like detached sketches, 
 yet it will be found that they are so connected together by 
 a succession of events, prepared by an inscrutable Provi- 
 dence, as to be all founded, so to speak, one upon another. 
 Allow me to hope. Sire, that you will find the moral of the 
 work at once touching, consoling, religious, and eminently 
 philosophical. 
 
 VOL. I b
 
 X DEDICATORY LETTER 
 
 Prince ! born to promote the happiness of nations, 
 Destiny, which sometimes seems to conceal, in obscurity, 
 those bright geniuses whose labours contribute to illustrate 
 the reign of princes, has reserved a particular glory for that 
 of Your Majesty ! Awake ! shade of Josephine, awake 
 from the sleep of the tomb. Now, more than ever, do I 
 stand in need of thine aid ! How shall I, without thee, call 
 to mind all the great deeds which do honour to Alexander, 
 and transmit his virtues and his fame to an impartial pos- 
 terity ? Oh, for the genius of the immortal Maro !— then 
 would I, like him, sing your praises " at dawn and dewy 
 eve.''^ But there is no force nor richness of style that will 
 suffice to paint, I will not say with brilliancy but with 
 fidelity, the great actions which you have performed. Yet 
 I may be permitted to say, without offence to Your 
 Majesty, that the glory of those actions does not eclipse 
 that which you have acquired by protecting and defending 
 the rights of a nation as warlike as France, intoxicated 
 by great successes, yet fortunate, indeed, and proud to 
 acknowledge the fact that to you they are indebted for 
 the olive branch of peace, and the preservation of their 
 rich and vast territory. 
 
 Seated upon a throne where the world with admiration 
 beholds you, the fires of your genius will enlighten and 
 electrify your subjects ; for 'tis by the examples of heroes 
 that great men are formed. The arts that you have trans- 
 planted into your empire will one day form the principal 
 basis of the prosperity of your estates, and become the 
 cause of that veneration which gratitude will engrave upon 
 all hearts, to the memory of so enlightened and benevolent 
 a Prince. The sons of fame shall astonish the future with 
 the story of your great deeds, and delight to extol the 
 glorious actions which have already signalised your reign, 
 and those which are yet to give it additional lustre. They 
 will say, " His country boasted of his clemency, the grace- 
 
 I Te veniente die, te descendente canebat. — Georgics, lib. iv.
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER XI 
 
 fulness of his manners, the wisdom of his counsels. She 
 will for ever celebrate his triumphs, and the innumerable 
 blessings he has lavished upon her," The voice of poetry 
 shall proclaim to the world that, under his reign, the 
 people enjoyed a wise and just liberty, and that by his 
 munificence, the germs of talent and art are daily de- 
 veloping themselves throughout the vast Empire of all 
 the Russias. 
 
 Condescend, great Prince, to receive benignly my sin- 
 cere homage, and the assurance of the profound respect 
 with which I am. 
 
 Your Majesty's most humble 
 
 and most obedient servant, 
 
 Lenormand. 
 
 [Reply to the foregoing.] 
 
 [Letter addressed to Mademoiselle Lenormand, by order 
 of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Alexander.] 
 
 His Imperial Majesty having been made acquainted 
 with the letter which you have addressed to him, has 
 charged me to testify to you. Mademoiselle, his thanks 
 for the work you have sent him ; he accepts with pleasure 
 the dedication of the " Historical Memoirs of the Empress 
 Josephine,'" and presents to you, as a souvenir, a ring 
 enriched with diamonds. In fulfilling his orders by these 
 presents, I hasten to thank you for the copy of your works 
 which you have sent me, and to express to you my high 
 respects. 
 
 (Signed) Le Prince Valkousky. 
 
 (1336, Aix-la-Chapelle, the 6th— i8th Oct., 1S18. 
 To Mademoiselle Lenormand.) 
 
 6—2
 
 PREFACE 
 
 I AM about to recount to Frenchmen the principal 
 events in the hfe of Josephine. Perhaps, alas ! I attempt 
 a task beyond my strength ; but what mortal so well 
 knows himself as not to undertake too much ? Yet I 
 shall not have to reproach myself with having omitted 
 any effort to merit the approbation of the people she 
 loved. Should I not attain it, I shall be doubly afflicted ; 
 for, in whatever I say, I aim only to speak the truth, 
 not solely for the honour of speaking it, but because 
 truth is useful to men. If I sometimes happen to wander 
 from it I shall find in my errors some consoling motives. 
 For the rest, if I have deceived myself, and if any of 
 my principles be not conformable to the general interest, 
 it will be an error of the head, but not of the heart ; 
 and I declare in advance that I disavow them. 
 
 It is pleasant to read a good book ; but it is not so 
 very easy to write one. The first condition, and the one 
 which is the most rarely observed, is unity of object and 
 interest ; the second, and which must be reconciled with 
 the first, is to describe events well, and to seize the 
 different shades of each picture. I ask only one favour 
 of the reader, and that is, to understand before he con- 
 demns me, to follow out the chain of my ideas — to be 
 my judge, and not my accuser. This request is not the 
 effect of a rash confidence. 
 
 Some of my maxims may seem adventurous. Should 
 certain critics believe them false, I beg them to consider, 
 while they condemn them, that the most useful discoveries
 
 PREFACE Xni 
 
 are often due only to the boldness of endeavour, and that 
 the fear of advancing an error ought not to deter us from 
 prosecuting our search after truth. In vain do weak and 
 cowardly men seek to proscribe truth by giving to it the 
 odious name of licence ; for such is human frailty, that 
 there is no truth which may not become dangerous. Yet, 
 woe to the man who shall, on that account, deprive man- 
 kind of it ! I repeat, the moment the investigation of 
 certain truths shall be interdicted in France, it will not 
 be permitted to utter truths of any kind. Unhappily, 
 there are some men indefatigable in their ambition, who 
 will never give over ; who persist in believing that truth 
 can never make itself heard, and that courage in a his- 
 torian does not suffice to make him respected. 
 
 How many powerful persons were there who figured 
 at Napoleon's Court, and who, under the idea that it is 
 sometimes wise to conceal the truth, wished to banish 
 it from the earth ! But I intend to strip off the veil 
 which conceals those crafty politicians ; I will paint the 
 ancient courtiers, who — 
 
 " 'Neath Caesar's eye, composed their face to smiles." 
 
 Among the qualities of the heart, according to my 
 ideas, that which will always most challenge our admira- 
 tion, is that elevation of soul which scorns to tell a lie ; 
 errors cease to be dangerous while it is permitted to com- 
 bat them. Discussion exposes them, and they soon fall 
 into the depths of oblivion, while truth alone remains 
 supernatant upon the vast surface of ages. 
 
 When one is about to design plans for building, he 
 does not content himself with an examination of the 
 house which he inhabits ; he goes abroad and views 
 the winding walks of some smiling and fertile garden, 
 which furnish the leading ideas — or wanders forth amid 
 romantic scenery. He creates around him the most 
 novel and varied prospects. Thus, when we open a 
 book on morals, or set about sketching history, we must
 
 XIV PREFACE 
 
 leave the narrow circle of our previous ideas and place 
 ourselves in a point of view where we may survey the 
 whole range of events and of human passions. The 
 " Memoirs of Josephine " cannot, I am persuaded, fail to 
 present to the mind of the reader reflections which are 
 new and interesting, and to furnish aid in the study of 
 the human heart. 
 
 They will renew the memory of the first wife of the 
 most astonishing man of his age. A new world will be 
 opened to those who shall deign to peruse them. I see 
 the tears fall from their eyes, and their souls catch new 
 inspiration, as they peruse the important events I am 
 about to narrate. I pity those who, more severe than 
 posterity can with justice be, shall dare blacken the public 
 life of a woman who, by a freak of Fortune's wheel, that 
 never ceases its revolutions, was borne upwards to one 
 of the mightiest thrones in the universe. Bonaparte pre- 
 tended not to be subject to the opinions of men. Alas ! 
 his interest and ambition destroyed in a moment the charm 
 of his existence and sundered the bonds which united him 
 to Josephine. Is it possible that his courtiers could have 
 succeeded in their guilty projects had he possessed the 
 courage to withdraw from their influence ? At that epoch 
 every obstacle vanished beneath his tread ; he thought 
 himself able to oppose a serene brow to the storm, and 
 brave in their turn both men and destiny. Josephine's 
 love for that remarkable man, her too blind confidence 
 in the means he possessed, finally induced her to applaud 
 his designs. But never did she share that boundless 
 power whose weight hung so heavily upon an unhappy 
 people. 
 
 Permit me to describe Josephine such as she presented 
 herself to my imagination ; that is, at the age when, still 
 young, she lost her first husband. There was an ex- 
 pression of sadness about her countenance, giving her an 
 appearance of melancholy. Her mind was filled with 
 recollections of the past ; she knew perfectly the part
 
 PREFACE XV 
 
 she had acted, but was then ignorant of what she was 
 one day to perform. 
 
 Her bearing was noble, her stature majestic ; she was 
 nevertheless kind and compassionate, enamoured of glory, 
 Avhich she hoped to espouse — if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression — in the person of the man who was to engage her 
 affections. 
 
 With pleasure shall I describe her maternal love, the 
 heroic courage which she displayed at the period of her 
 divorce. I shall relate the most secret events of her life. 
 I shall speak of the enthusiasm of that admirable woman 
 for whatever bore an impress of the sublime ; of her 
 husband's crooked policy, and of her respect for certain 
 illustrious but unfortunate persons. 
 
 Josephine had a kind of towering pride in her composi- 
 tion. The love of the beautiful exalted her soul, and 
 whatever was noble and generous was sure to obtain her 
 favour. 
 
 She possessed, moreover, but without any show, the 
 art of captivating hearts. By means of her goodness, 
 and the graciousness of her demeanour, she conciliated 
 even the enemies of her second husband. Instead of 
 leaving him upon a throne, surrounded by abysses, in 
 which sleepless crime kept watch in the hope of dragging 
 him into the depths, she gained him friends and parti- 
 sans, who became his firmest supporters. 
 
 I shall also enquire whether it was a subject of reproach 
 for Bonaparte to have forgotten the debt of gratitude he 
 owed to Josephine. 'Tis the ordinary effect of ambition 
 to destroy the natural sentiments of the heart, and to 
 hide them beneath a veil of black ingratitude. Soon, too 
 soon, did he realise the dream which it was his duty to 
 banish from his mind : he chose a new companion. 
 Unhappy Maria Louisa ! Thine august father, to ensure 
 the tranquillity of his empire, consented to give to his 
 daughter a master as he had given one to himself, 
 by associating Napoleon in the empire of the world.
 
 XVI PREFACE 
 
 Josephine witnessed the triumph of her rival, without 
 making the sHghtest attempt to disturb her repose. The 
 loss of her husband was sufficient of itself to render her 
 insensible to whatever passed around her. Nothing but 
 great passions produce extreme suffering and lasting 
 sorrow. She remained several days buried in profound 
 meditation ; but to the recollections of the heart, which 
 seemed to overcome her, she joined the noblest fortitude, 
 the most patient resignation. A new Ariadne, she seemed 
 to forget the perfidious Theseus who had abandoned her. 
 And yet she \ittered in secret her prayers for a husband 
 who was perjured to his vows. 
 
 Alone at Malmaison, Josephine no longer took notice 
 of the agitating factions of the times, nor the increasing 
 popular disturbances ; she heard not the long-stifled groans 
 of the people, nor the preparations of the nations for the 
 tumult of arms. Afar from the frightful spectacle of so 
 many evils, and the appalling arrangements to remedy 
 them ; far from the headlong and criminal manoeuvres 
 by which her husband's political system devoted men to 
 mutual destruction, and opposed fury to fury, her heart, 
 wholly consecrated to doing good, preferred the silent, 
 but instructive, communion of the children of Nature to 
 the society of courtiers, Avho thronged in multitudes 
 around her. She might have been seen breathing, in its 
 voluptuous freshness, the morning air in the poplar's silent 
 shade, round which the rose and the honeysuckle entwined 
 themselves, hanging like rich crowns above her head. 
 Here, with pencil in hand, she would sketch the various 
 pictures which Nature unfolded to her view. Her imagi- 
 nation would speed its flight towards that happy isle, the 
 witness of the bright days of her childhood — days the 
 memory of which she loved to cherish. Here her heart 
 melted with tenderness ; here she poured forth her tears 
 as she reflected upon the past. And yet, even here, she 
 began to enjoy a momentary felicity. For fifteen years 
 she was thought to be the happiest of women ; she seemed
 
 PREFACE XVll 
 
 seated for ever upon the car of Fortune ; and yet a day, a 
 single day, had already sufficed to scatter all those seduc- 
 tive illusions. Thus, alas ! the years roll on. 
 
 Although she must have felt the necessity of banishing 
 all memory of her irreparable loss, she, nevertheless, at 
 times, grasped an enchanted cup, from which she drew 
 long draughts of nectar ; still was she sensible to the 
 pleasure of being loved, and was ravished with delight 
 when she heard, confidentially, that the new spouse of 
 Bonaparte appeared not to occupy in his heart the same 
 place as herself. 
 
 During her moments of leisure at Malmaison, she 
 sketched the different events of her life ; she preserved 
 the most secret particulars of her husband's reign, and 
 destined those precious manuscripts for posterity. I will 
 fulfil her most cherished vow. With such materials I 
 am permitted to undertake this interesting work. Would 
 that, for its execution, I held the insinuating, persuasive 
 pen of the immortal author of " Malthide." But, though 
 unsustained by such advantages, I shall offer, at least, to 
 my readers several chapters written entirely by Josephine's 
 own hand ; and, as a complement to the work, they will, 
 I trust, content themselves with the curious notes which 
 she deposited in my hands. 
 
 O ye who are still plucking the flowers of youth ^ — 
 noble Eugene, kind-hearted Hortense — ye whose minds 
 are still surrounded by the dark clouds which conceal 
 your future lot ; ye who, to heroic sentiments, unite 
 the celestial enthusiasm of private virtue ; may the ex- 
 ample of your illustrious mother lead you ever to sustain 
 becomingly the reverses of fortune, and make you sensible 
 of this important truth, that, without the resources of 
 genius and sentiment, a man is poor in the midst of 
 treasures, and alone in the midst of society ! 
 
 Permit me, children of Josephine — permit me, at least, 
 to present to posterity the history of her life ; permit me 
 to display the picture of her heart, and the annals of the
 
 XVlll PREFACE 
 
 times in which she lived. To men I will resign the 
 perilous career of politics ; but I will not suffer certain 
 authors with impunity to sharpen the dart of satire 
 against the memory of a woman whom they ought to 
 adore. I shall endeavour to avoid the shoals which 
 surround me on every side. Too just to be influenced 
 by fear, I shall invoke the testimony of those who, like 
 myself, knew how to appreciate her understanding, the 
 charms of her conversation, and the pleasures of her 
 society. My principal object is, not only to awaken in- 
 teresting reflections in the minds of Frenchmen, but, like 
 her, to inspire them with the love of whatever is great, 
 noble and generous. And let those who, following in the 
 footsteps of her husband, dare still to entertain the luck- 
 less and fatal ambition of reigning over a divided people, 
 learn from her what are the hidden rocks among which 
 they sail. 
 
 I shall likewise enter into some details connected with 
 the too famous affair of her divorce. As I am afraid to 
 have my readers misled by false conjectures, and as they 
 may not, from a want of proper investigation, be able to 
 unravel a mystery which is covered with an impenetrable 
 veil, I have endeavoured to shed some light upon that in- 
 teresting but distressing portion of her life. 
 
 In doing this I may present the cup of consolation to 
 wives who, like her, have experienced those fearful dreams 
 which leave nothing behind but long despair, their last and 
 only prospect for the future. 
 
 I think that even envy will hardly impute to me a dis- 
 position to wound the feelings of anyone who has had 
 relations with Josephine. In these her Secret Memoirs, she 
 considers no man in his individual character, but treats of 
 men and nations in general. This should shelter her from 
 the attacks of malignity. It will be perceived, in reading 
 the work, that she loves the French, and desires their 
 happiness, without hatred or contempt towards any of them 
 in particular.
 
 PREFACE XIX 
 
 Josephine was deeply affected by the innumerable 
 chronicles which obtained circulation in France, after her 
 husband's downfall. " I have seen," said she, "the hateful 
 mask beneath which envy delights to hide itself. I have 
 seen the infamous veil with which hate sought to cover 
 itself ; and I have thought it my duty to rend them away. 
 
 " Though I may be accused of seeking to justify the 
 man whom all Europe at present condemns, I shall not, at 
 least, be suspected of having, like many others, admired his 
 errors, and endeavoured to encourage him in the dark road 
 of his political system. When I possessed his confidence, 
 I never ceased to urge him to follow the primary impulses 
 of his heart — a heart which often, often dreamed of the 
 happiness of France, which he had so many means to secure. 
 Flatterers precipitated him into a volcano, and those same 
 men will, perhaps, hereafter draw other princes into the 
 same abyss. Traitors only change masks ; they adopt all 
 colours without distinction. They will, undoubtedly, yet 
 be exposed in the face of the world, but it will be too late 
 for the security of France. In vain," said Josephine, 
 " should I seek to conceal from posterity the names of 
 those cowardly beings who have changed with my fortune, 
 and whose culpable indifference I here arraign, though with 
 a feeling of moderation and generosity. I know I have 
 had some ungrateful friends, whose open abandonment of 
 me has inflicted deep wounds upon my heart. I could wish 
 to have my afflictions understood, but I am afraid to fix an 
 eternal stain upon certain names which I am anxious to 
 shield from opprobrium ; nor will I stoop to environ even 
 with the celebrity of disgrace certain wretches in the shape 
 of men, envious of my spoils, or of the feeble portion of 
 power I ever retained over the mind of Bonaparte. There 
 were some of those cowards who, at the time of my repu- 
 diation, had the audacity to demand my exile into Italy; 
 others, equally hypocritical, but more cruel, thronged to 
 Malmaison, and insulted the victim ; they rejoiced to see 
 the dagger already rankling in a wounded heart, and praised
 
 XX PREFACE 
 
 the hand which had placed it there, treating my misfortune 
 as a crime, and his abuse of power as the chastisement of 
 the Deity ! " 
 
 Whoever, in fine, shall follow out all the circumstances 
 of the life of Josephine while the wife of Napoleon, will 
 discover that her character evinced enough of firmness and 
 energy to merit the attention of the historian and the love 
 of the French people ; and this is surely a sufficient recom- 
 pense for her having sat upon a usurped throne. 
 
 This work will justify its title of " Historical and Secret 
 Memoirs." Though the embellishments belong to the 
 author, the characters and events belong to history. 
 
 JOSEPHINE TO HER CHILDREN 
 
 My dear Children, — I myself have taken care of your 
 education ; I have taught you to scorn alike pain and 
 riches ; to stand less in fear of torture, nay, of death itself, 
 than of the reproaches of conscience. I have pointed out 
 to you the means of shunning luxury, especially the cor- 
 rupting pleasures ; to exercise courage in misfortune, and 
 to regard injustice, falsehood, ingratitude, cowardice, and 
 effeminacy, as disgraceful and despicable. I have taught 
 you lessons of humanity and disinterestedness, of firmness 
 in repelling an insult, and have enjoined it on you to serve 
 your country. I have accustomed you to speak the truth 
 boldly, and to show yourselves enemies of all adulation. 
 To teach you these things, my children, I did not wait for 
 you to reach even the age of childhood ; but the moment 
 I perceived in you the first sparks of reason, I hastened to 
 instil them into your minds. Hardly had you beheld your 
 eighth summer, when I discovered that you began to fulfil 
 my hopes. Like the soft wax, which, in the hands of a 
 skilful artist, takes whatever form he seeks to give it, 
 youth, at the voice of its guide, commences its journey 
 either in the right or in the wrong path, embraces with
 
 PREFACE XXI 
 
 earnestness the part of virtue, or attaches itself to the 
 seductive exteriors of vice. 
 
 No one can bring up a child better than a tender and 
 enlightened mother ; and it becomes her who has not 
 leisure for that occupation, which is at times both pleasant 
 and painful, to bestow the greatest attention on the choice 
 of the persons to whom she confides her children. As the 
 minute attentions of the gardener contribute to the birth 
 and perfection of the children of Flora, so does the care of 
 the instructor develop and direct the character and talents 
 of the pupil. 
 
 Gloomy symptoms of popular discontent had long fore- 
 told the frightful revolution which precipitated France into 
 the depths of calamity. At that time, my children, you 
 seemed to be the only solace of your afflicted mother. 
 Your ingenuous tenderness made you contrive, every day, 
 some new means to assuage her sorrows. You knew how 
 to divert and console me, by means of your gaiety and the 
 charms of your conversation. Early was I tried in the 
 school of adversity. To complete my accumulated mis- 
 fortunes, I was doomed to see my husband sent to prison 
 at the moment I had regained his confidence. I had done 
 everything to merit his esteem — I was about to pluck some 
 of the flowers that spring up along the pathway of life, 
 when, suddenly, the Reign of Terror set in with all its 
 violence. The throne was overturned, the elite of our 
 warriors were cut down by the revolutionary scythe, and 
 M. de Beauharnais, like many others, fell beneath the 
 weight of the laurels that adorned his brow. 
 
 To escape death or deportation, the most of our friends 
 betook themselves to flight, and, in the depths of woods, 
 in solitary hovels, found an asylum which the towns and 
 cities, a prey to party fury, no longer afforded ; others 
 quitted France. I myself was one of the victims of the 
 distressing events which followed. The estate of your 
 father consisted of several dwellings, but his income was 
 annihilated by the disasters which visited almost all our
 
 XXll PREFACE 
 
 colonies, and by the law of sequestration. On leaving the 
 prison only one resource was open to me, that of rising to 
 my task often before day ; sustained by the hope of being 
 useful to you, I earned with some difficulty enough to 
 supply our primary wants. 
 
 You may, perhaps, imagine that in such a sad situation 
 I felt unhappy ; not so. I fulfilled that sacred duty not 
 as a task ; the very occupation it afforded became dear to 
 me, and created in my heart sources of the purest enjoy- 
 ment. To work for my children opened to me a way of 
 happiness, which, till then, I had not known. 
 
 You, my son, were born with a thirst for knowledge ; 
 study was for you only an amusement, which you preferred 
 to all the sports peculiar to your age. I attended to all 
 your lessons, and raised you in that simplicity which be- 
 fitted the times we lived in. For that reason, I promptly 
 took away from you the book of Heraldry. Of what 
 service would it then have been to you to understand the 
 different armorial bearings, the Champs de Giienles, the 
 sinoples, the pals, the besants, &c. ? All those words had 
 become barbarous, and might no longer be sounded in the 
 ears of the enemies of kings. Besides, I had taught you 
 that it is not birth which opens the road to fame. As 
 the feeble lark mounts up from his resting-place on the 
 earth towards the heavens, so may a man, though born 
 a shepherd (if possessed of native worth), travel all the 
 paths of military glory, and reach the most distinguished 
 rank. 
 
 Eugene, you were raised amidst the dust of camps ; 
 you esteemed it an honour, while occupying inferior 
 stations, to be obedient to your superiors ; you constantly 
 observed the discipline of a soldier ; in battle, you ever 
 preserved that presence of mind and that moderation which 
 are so necessary ; and when honour, or the interest of 
 your country, required, you confronted with coolness the 
 greatest dangers ; and you have ever fought for the 
 general weal. Beyond this no one is required to go ; the
 
 PREFACE XXUl 
 
 warrior who rashly exposes himself spreads confusion in 
 the ranks, and often occasions disorder through the whole 
 army. Promoted to the rank of general, aware that 
 courage in a chief is a powerful incitement to the soldier, 
 you displayed your own at the head of our armies ; you 
 did not then forget what you had practised in inferior 
 grades. You remembered that the warrior who commands 
 ought to show himself a model to all who are to obey ; 
 and you ever furnished such a model. If you have dis- 
 tinguished yourself in numerous engagements ; if, following 
 in the footsteps of your illustrious father, you have acquired 
 the reputation of a hero, your glory, like his, will never 
 be effaced. But, my son, never forget to protect the 
 weak against the oppressor ; ever make virtue triumphant ; 
 ever show yourself the inflexible enemy of crime ; indulgent 
 towards error, and compassionate towards misfortune. 
 
 O my son ! I confide to you your children. Watch 
 over their education ; let them learn from you to conduct 
 themselves like men, in whatever country they may be, 
 whether in prosperity or adversity — in a word, to show 
 themselves worthy of you and themselves. And may they 
 one day prove themselves worthy of their ancestors, 
 honouring their country, and rendering themselves im- 
 mortal. 
 
 As to thee, my beloved daughter, long borne down 
 with sorrow, thou wast, even in thine infancy, quoted as 
 a model of reserve and modesty ; but, when fortune had 
 placed thee upon the public stage, thou becamest an object 
 of base jealousy. Faults were imputed to thee, and the 
 blackest envy misconstrued thy most innocent actions. 
 Thy mother was deeply touched by thy sorrows. To her 
 alone didst thou open thy heart ; before her didst thou 
 freely pour forth thy tears. Although the horrible calum- 
 nies did not, in all their venom, reach thee, yet it was 
 with difficulty that I restored calmness to thy afflicted 
 spirit. The poisonous breath of detraction, which scattered 
 all thy hopes of bliss, long continued to assail thee. But
 
 XXIV PREFACE 
 
 thou hast endured all those persecutions with angelic 
 meekness, and hast the consolation of a pure conscience 
 and an innocent heart. 
 
 It belongs to me, Hortense, to make thee known ; thy 
 interesting history is attached to my own. How ardently 
 shall I one day perform the duty of your justification. 
 Perchance I shall have the happiness, should the Secret 
 Memoirs of my life be published in France, of reviving in 
 all hearts those sentiments of esteem and admiration which 
 are due to thee. Truth, that truth which I shall make 
 known in all its brightness and power, will correct the 
 errors of opinion ; men will forget their unfounded preju- 
 dices, and learn to admire thy virtues — virtues which have 
 too long been denied thee. And thus wilt thou behold 
 thy reputation triumph by means of that same moderation 
 which thou hast never ceased to show from the origin of 
 thy misfortunes. There are those who, enlightened by the 
 torch of repentance, will say, " Too late am I undeceived, 
 and my tardy regrets cannot now repair the wrongs of 
 which I was the involuntary cause."
 
 HISTORICAL AND SECRET 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " See high in air the sportive goddess hangs, 
 Unlocks her casket — spreads her gHttering wares, 
 And calls the giddy winds to puff abroad 
 Her random bounties o'er the gaping throng. 
 All rush rapacious ; friend o'er trodden friend, 
 Sons o'er their fathers, subjects o'er their kings. 
 Priests o'er their gods, and lovers o'er the fair — 
 (Still more adorned) to snatch the golden shower ; 
 Sagacious all to trace the smallest game, 
 And bold to seize the greatest ; * * 
 * * * * * fhgj. launch, they fly, 
 
 O'er just, o'er sacred, all forbidden ground. 
 Drunk with the burning scent of place and power. 
 Staunch to the foot of Lucre, — till they die." 
 
 — Young. 
 
 How strange are the destinies of men ! Ah ! happy, a 
 thousand times happy, those who are born in obscurity ! 
 They pass their Hves without attracting the gaze of the 
 world ; but do those who return with a smile the caresses 
 of Fortune, always know how to submit to her frowns ? 
 The artisan begins his daily toil with a song, and ends 
 it without regret. Day by day he eats the bread pur- 
 chased by his hard toil; and though he reposes not upon 
 the pillows of ease, he, at least, tastes the sleep of peace. 
 
 Those who, by their rank or their dignity, are con- 
 
 VOL. I I
 
 2 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 strained to present themselves to public gaze, enjoy a 
 less happy lot ; they must count as many judges of their 
 actions as there are men to appear before them ; and 
 the censure to which they are exposed dissipates the 
 dream of felicity. 
 
 Again, has happiness a resting-place on earth? Is 
 it not rather a fugitive stranger, wandering far from his 
 own country, unable to tarry in this vale of tears ? 
 
 Ah ! whoever you are, into whose hands fate may 
 throw these Memoirs, so fertile of events, beware you 
 do not regard them as a dream, nor as the fruit of a 
 wandering imagination. Ponder well these annals of our 
 revolutions ; let the terrible lesson be engraven upon 
 your hearts in letters ineffaceable ; for the efforts of men 
 are henceforth impotent to repel the memory of the past. 
 Like the rock of Sisyphus, it must roll back and be ever 
 ready to crush them. 
 
 Meanwhile I float, uncertain, from thought to thought. 
 I know well the task I have undertaken ; but I shall ac- 
 complish it, for my resolution is unalterable, and because 
 this history belongs to posterity. Yet I know not the 
 course I may, perhaps, steer, and this uncertainty agitates 
 and pains me. But imperious Truth invokes me ; I hear 
 her resistless voice ; I feel it is her power that impels 
 me ; my subject inspires me, and its importance must, 
 for me, supply the place of genius. 
 
 Why do my thoughts, wandering around her tomb, 
 give way to gloomy sorrows ? Is the soul, the celestial 
 fire, extinguished beneath the ashes of the tomb ? No ! 
 Nothing of Josephine (I know not yet what place she 
 occupies in Heaven), nothing of Josephine has ceased to 
 live but that portion of her being which was doomed to 
 mortality. She has lost only the rude, terrestrial covering
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3 
 
 which environed her. For Josephine, nothing has ended 
 liut misfortune and sorrow. 
 
 Thus will I not suffer to perish, in forgetfulness, the 
 glory of that illustrious woman. Fly, ye profane ! or 
 approach with awe this august shade. I hear her 
 voice. She commands me to seize the pencil. Friend- 
 ship shall guide it ! But let me pause for a moment 
 and recall my thoughts. I enter with reverence the 
 sanctuary where Josephine reposes. It is at Rueil ; 'tis 
 at the foot of her tomb that all my thoughts are fixed ; 
 everything here recalls to my mind her wonderful history. 
 
 What do I behold ! An insensible marble covers her 
 remains. This simplicity speaks to the heart far more 
 eloquently than the most pompous mausoleum. Josephine ! 
 this abode is for thee a bed of triumph. Already I behold 
 thy glory ; thy noble actions have made thee immortal. 
 Yes, here on her coffin do I lay the tribute of my regrets; 
 she has passed the dreadful gate ; my straining eyes pursue 
 her, and are lost in eternity ! 
 
 Yes, thee do I invoke, thou sainted shade, now a 
 dweller in the palace of the King of kings ! Ah, deign 
 to support me in the task I here attempt ; give to my 
 voice the harmony and the eloquence which belong to 
 good works ; adorn this recital with the charms which 
 were so much thine own ; aid me in bringing to light 
 the most secret events in the reign of Bonaparte, and 
 name to me the realms which that too famous man 
 overran in search of that marvellous talisman by which 
 he enchained all powers, inferior and superior. Immortal 
 shade, hover over me ! dictate a portion of this work, 
 and lend it the charm of thy enchanting style. My pen 
 waits to obey thee. 
 
 I — 2
 
 4 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Island of Martinique was the birthplace of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte's first wife. Her family there 
 enjoyed a high consideration, and was noted for that 
 hereditary hospitality which it was so fond of exercising. 
 Its mansion was ever open to the unfortunate colonists, 
 or the slaves who were without shelter. 
 
 She came into the world on the very day on which 
 the treaty which surrendered the island to France was 
 signed, that is, on the 24th day of June, 1763. Her 
 earliest look was upon the liberators of her country, those 
 who had prepared this triumph of justice and humanity. 
 
 Her parents drew a favourable augury from the cir- 
 cumstance of her birth happening on that day, and it 
 was celebrated by discharges of artillery. The colony 
 was freed from the yoke of the European islanders. 
 Such was Josephine's entrance into the world. 
 
 With her brow encircled by a transparent crown, 
 which seldom surrounds the heads of new-born babes, 
 Josephine bore at her birth an infallible sign of prosperity 
 — a token of good fortune in her future career. 
 
 We will glance rapidly at the history of her childhood. 
 
 In opening her eyes to the day, she felt the influence 
 of the delicious climate where she was born. Constantly 
 surrounded by slaves who ran at her cry, who guarded 
 her infancy from every danger, she was protected by this 
 faithful band from all fear and all sorrow. 
 
 A Creole, free from his cradle, never groans under 
 the imprisonment of swaddling clothes, which so often 
 prove fatal ; his limbs never exhibit the slightest imper- 
 fection ; and the favourable temperature of the climate 
 lends him an agility fitting him for all kinds of gymnastic 
 exercises, to which he has as much inclination as native 
 adaptation.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 5 
 
 The rapid development of Josephine's physical qualities, 
 the unceasing display of the productions with which an 
 ever active course and an exhaustless fertility of soil 
 enriched her country ; perhaps, even the constant view 
 of the element which separated her from the rest of the 
 world, tended to create in her a lively imagination, and 
 a (juick perception, affording a happy presage of her 
 future success in those arts to which she loved to devote 
 herself. But the extreme tenderness of her parents, ever 
 the slaves of her will, led them to avoid, during her 
 infancy, the slightest opposition to her desires. The 
 effect of this parental indulgence was to mar the native 
 sweetness of her temper. She required that her smallest 
 caprices should be gratified ; each day she became more 
 and more exacting ; and, had it not been for the success- 
 ful resistance of her mother, she must soon have contracted 
 faults which would have been intolerable. 
 
 From the day of her birth she was herself surrounded 
 by a throng of courtiers and admirers ; the former com- 
 posed for her a sort of brilliant Coiiyf, while the latter 
 cherished the greatest hopes in reference to her. Hence 
 a subtle pride crept into her purest inclinations, her most 
 virtuous actions. It needed but a look from her to make 
 all around obey. The young negresses, subjected to the 
 variations of her humour, dared not raise their voice, 
 and her infantile freaks at times disturbed the general 
 quiet. Her sports often placed her in the midst of 
 young unfortunates whom their colour had condemned 
 to slavery (i); but she showed the same predilection for 
 the blacks who distinguished themselves by their good 
 conduct, as for the whites. This favour ensured them 
 better treatment for the future. And, surely, it is a happy 
 lot for beings who are reduced to utter dependence upon
 
 b SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 others, having no interest in themselves, to find someone 
 to alleviate their painful condition. Thus, she protected 
 them from the injustice which awaited them whenever 
 the overseer made the least complaint. " I always took 
 care," said Josephine, " to throw a veil over such of their 
 faults as personally concerned me." But whenever occa- 
 sion required, she displayed all the energy of her nature. 
 Little accustomed to obeisance herself, her resolution, 
 when taken, yielded to no obstacle. Her character was, 
 by nature, wild, and of an extreme sensibility. Never 
 was woman endowed with a soul more tender, more 
 generous or truer to the sentiment which inspired it. 
 She loved gratitude and hated its opposite. Alas ! to 
 what purpose did she persevere in her love of the one 
 and her hatred of the other. 
 
 Her character exhibited a happy combination of languid 
 softness and vivacity ; but her excessive timidity some- 
 times deprived her of the advantages which a cultivated 
 mind and striking talents would have secured her. Her 
 health was delicate ; her voice was charming. Her heart, 
 true and faithful, never knew imposture ; the smile of 
 benevolence dwelt on her lips. Clad usually in the light 
 muslin tissue worn in that climate, she was perfectly free 
 in all the motions of the body. The talent of pleasing 
 always excited her generous emulation ; but what par- 
 ticularly affected her, and, indeed, afflicted her, was the 
 preference which the inhabitants of the colony gave to 
 her over her only sister, who was really handsomer than 
 she. By caressing her self-love they afflicted her heart. 
 They called her the pretty Creole, a title which produced 
 upon her mind the liveliest impressions. Her physical 
 charms were constantly praised ; the colours of the rose 
 adorned her cheek, and she knew not then that a woman
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 7 
 
 could resort to art to add to her attractions. "Tis thus, 
 however, that the greatest part of the Creoles, aided by 
 their simple native graces, know how to perpetuate the 
 empire which they hold from the hands of Nature. 
 
 Josephine was not ten years old when it .appeared 
 that Terpsichore was the goddess who most engaged her 
 worship. Notwithstanding the warmth of the climate 
 and the feebleness of her constitution, dancing seemed 
 to animate her whole being ; and such was the delirium 
 into which this exercise plunged her, that it was easy 
 for a careful observer to see that this pleasure was likely 
 to engross her tastes. She was also exceedingly fond of 
 vocal music ; and her own flexible voice was well adapted 
 to light and tender airs. The ballad was the kind of 
 song which pleased her most ; her plaintive tones seemed 
 made to administer pleasure to her languid spirits. She 
 would give to each tune a slow and sweet accent, and 
 the ravishing melody enchanted her ear and seduced her 
 heart. 
 
 Solitude pleased her much. She preferred the retreat 
 called the " Three Islets " to the interior of the colony ; 
 and, as I have said, her retiring manners seemed to 
 obscure the brilliancy which she might have displayed 
 in the midst of society. It was really only in France 
 that she learnt to understand the full value of that 
 amability which women alone possess, and have the 
 skill to exhibit under the most attractive forms. 
 
 But her early education was neglected. In recounting 
 to her friends the circumstances of her childhood, she 
 gives the following picture of herself : — 
 
 " I did not like the restraint of my clothing, nor to be 
 cramped in my movements. I ran, and jumped, and 
 danced from morning to night. Why restrain the wild
 
 8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 movements of my childhood ? I wanted to do no hurt 
 to those from whom I received any evidences of affection. 
 Nature gave me a great facility for everything I undertook. 
 Learning to read and write was mere sport ; the same was 
 true as to the instruction I received from my father ; and 
 there were few better taught men, or possessing a more 
 skilful manner in making himself understood, than he. I 
 had no other master until I was twelve years old ; and 
 then they received from my father the same directions 
 which he had given in reference to Maria ^ ; my lessons 
 were presented to me only in the form of amusements. I 
 know not, indeed, whether this method would succeed 
 with all children. I know well, however, that in my case 
 it was followed by the happiest results." 
 
 Madame Tascher affected a sort of severity towards 
 her daughter Josephine whenever she saw her neglecting 
 her duties. She would talk of putting her into the con- 
 vent, in the hope of her being able there to acquire a 
 more cultivated education. 
 
 " My good and pretty little child," said her mother to 
 her, one day, " your character and heart are excellent, 
 but your head — Ah ! what a head ! Tender even to 
 weakness, I have opposed you in nothing. I have con- 
 sulted, instead of directing your inclination, and granted 
 your desires instead of expressing my own. I have en- 
 treated when I should have commanded, and yielded 
 when I should have resisted. I doubt not that in France 
 your mind will develop itself much better than in this 
 climate. In Europe, the example of your companions 
 will arouse your self-love and excite your emulation. 
 
 I Eldest sister of Josephine. She was more commonly called 
 Pianette. She was very handsome ; but the mark she bore on one 
 of her cheeks disfigured her a little.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 9 
 
 Here, on the contrary, the indolence of the Creoles has 
 produced in your mind that repugnance for study which 
 is so natural to infancy and youth ; my duty is to 
 overcome this repugnance. I have not yet done it, 
 and your ignorance is my fault." With these words she 
 left Josephine, and the coldness of her manner produced 
 in the latter the most painful agitations. A serious 
 thought, a mournful reflection now seized her ; she fell 
 to Aveeping. The tears were, perhaps, the first she ever 
 shed. Her women were frightened to find her in this 
 cruel situation ; the cries of one of them reached her 
 father, who hastened to her. His tender cares in some 
 degree soothed her grief, and, in the midst of the sobs 
 which escaped her, she did not hesitate to tell him the 
 cause. 
 
 Love, under the disguise of friendship, had already 
 penetrated her heart ; she felt a tender sentiment for a 
 certain young man of the colony. She was yet too 
 young to understand the nature of that sweet sentiment 
 which draws us towards a loved object ; but the good 
 understanding which reigned between their parents, and 
 the proximity of their habitations, had united them from 
 their earliest years. The inclination which they had 
 felt for each other during the age of innocence, was 
 strengthened by time, and especially after the mother 
 of young \\'illiam had given him the entree into the 
 mansion of la Pagerie. Aside from a motive of per- 
 sonal friendship which had long attached her to Madame 
 
 Tascher, Madame de K doubtless flattered herself 
 
 that one day her son, by becoming the husband of the 
 amiable Josephine, would strengthen the bands of ancient 
 friendship which reigned between the two families. 
 
 The parents of this, her young Creole lover, who be-
 
 lO SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 longed to one of the first families in England, had come 
 to Martinique in consequence of the misfortunes of the 
 unhappy Prince Edward, whose noble banner they had 
 followed. Deprived of their goods, and reduced to a 
 state approaching indigence, their position was never- 
 theless respectable. Erewhile the favourites of fortune, 
 objects of envy to their fellow-citizens, it needed but an 
 unexpected reverse to strip them at once of riches, 
 friends, country ; to humble them under the strokes of 
 adversity, and to inspire them with serious inquietudes 
 for their own lives. But these generous English were 
 not slow to perceive that nobility, in a state of destitution, 
 is but a vain title — a source of humiliation and chagrin. 
 
 The consideration which M. de Tascher enjoyed was 
 not the only motive which attached them to him ; their 
 regard for him was disinterested. For the rest, the 
 inheritance of the estate of a maternal uncle might at 
 any moment rescue them from the precarious position 
 in which they had been plunged since the fall of the 
 House of Stuart, whose cause they had embraced, and 
 whose proscription they had shared. These strangers 
 entertained the project of one day establishing them- 
 selves in France ; there they were to await the promise 
 made by Josephine's parents of uniting her in marriage 
 with their son, when they should be of the proper age. 
 Her father had determined that his eldest daughter 
 should go to reside with Madame Renaudin,^ who had 
 made repeated efforts to procure one of her nieces to 
 live with her, promising to charge herself with the care 
 of her fortune, and to provide for her establishment in life. 
 
 Months passed away without any apparent change 
 
 I Sister of M. de Tascher de la Pagerie.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE II 
 
 in Josephine's situation. Her parents by no means 
 foresaw into what a frightful state she was about to 
 fall. How could they divine the catastrophe which fate 
 was preparing for her ? Their hearts, naturally so feeling, 
 could not imagine that she was to drain the cup of 
 sorrow, and at an early age feel the touch of the thorns 
 of human life ; and as yet nothing announced to her 
 that her heart would become the sport of the passions. 
 Maria possessed a character widely different from hers ; 
 she combined English tastes and habits ; her face 
 exhibited the paleness of melancholy, while Josephine 
 preserved a light and sprightly air. Her heart was not 
 yet open to the illusions of love ; though she soon 
 found out that a natural inclination draws us to the 
 beings who 'are to become the sovereign arbiters of our 
 
 destinies— the image of William de K began early 
 
 to occupy her thoughts. 
 
 The parents saw with pleasure the development of 
 the early attachment of these two children. " We grew 
 up, day by day," said Josephine, " under their eyes ; they 
 loved to preside over our childish sports. I told my 
 young friend of the threat my mother made of sending 
 me away from Martinique ; from that moment our hearts 
 felt the same anxiety, and we both resolved to escape, 
 if possible, from the pangs with which such a separation 
 menaced us." 
 
 William de K had not seen ten summers, l)ut, 
 
 by means of a skilful teacher, he had already made such 
 progress in the study of the useful sciences that he was 
 distinguished throughout the colony for his scholarship. 
 
 An excess of grief followed this exaltation of feeling ; 
 the boy fell sick with a fever, and was horribly agitated, 
 not imagining that there were pangs yet to be endured
 
 12 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 far more trying than the mere privation he was about 
 to experience. "Ah! my mother, my tender mother," 
 said he, constantly, " your goodness encourages me, and 
 at the same time makes me the more sensible of my 
 faults, if it be a fault to love. Pardon your son, but 
 take care of my Josephine ! conceal her from every eye ; 
 for one of these days Madame de la Pagerie may send 
 her away for ever from her country and her friends. 
 Regard her henceforth as your daughter, and when I am 
 older, give her to me as a wife. What say you, mother, 
 to my project ? " His tender mother could not but pity 
 him, but, at the same time, made him understand all the 
 inconveniences of such a step. She would not undertake 
 to solicit the particular favour of Josephine's parents, 
 over whose minds she nevertheless held much influence; 
 and only flattered her son that his young companion 
 should be preserved, and that the happiness of both 
 should be complete. 
 
 It was not difficult for this good mother to obtain 
 the revocation of Madame Tascher's decree. The self- 
 love of the young Josephine, touched by the foreign 
 intervention to which she had to resort in order to 
 postpone her journey across the seas, easily discovered, 
 from the menaces which her family had employed 
 towards her, that they would soon find some other 
 pretext for executing their design. 
 
 For form's sake, certain conditions were exacted to 
 which it was necessary to subscribe. All this passed in 
 so short a time that the sentiments of fear and pleasure 
 struggled together in the young heart of Josephine, and 
 for a moment caused a tumultuous agitation. — " Happy 
 moment ! " she afterwards exclaimed, " and yet I felt 
 unhappy."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I3 
 
 Meanwhile all things went on in their accustomed 
 way : William de K— — 's teacher became Josephine's. 
 This change produced a happy effect on her daily habits. 
 She felt the pride of emulation ; she began to draw quite 
 well, and manifested a taste for the harp and piano ; 
 learnt her own language and commenced the English. 
 Her mother placed all her affections upon Maria, whom 
 she idolised. It is certain her preference for her was 
 marked, though not absolutely exclusive. In respect, 
 however, to the qualities of the heart, the father possessed 
 them all ; he was fond of Josephine. To a well-instructed 
 mind, he united such an amenity of disposition that it 
 was impossible for anyone not to prefer his society to 
 that of his wife. The latter perceived this, but without 
 repining ; she loved him so tenderly that it was an 
 additional satisfaction to her to witness Josephine's pre- 
 dilection for her father. 
 
 After six months of perseverance, Madame de la 
 Pagerie, finding that her daughter was likely to fulfil 
 her expectations, assured her that she need feel no appre- 
 hension of a separation from the family ; and she added 
 that, in a few years, her father would undertake to estab- 
 lish her in life — that her husband would, without doubt, 
 take her to the Continent, and fix his residence in a 
 large city, where she would mingle in society and form 
 the acquaintance of a class of ladies whose rank and 
 fortune attracted the highest respect and esteem ; who 
 take no care of their reputation, who neglect their hus- 
 bands and children, and live, as it were, like strangers 
 in the midst of their families. She expressed the hope 
 that her daughter would never imitate such examples ; 
 that she would fulfil her duties without making a merit 
 of it ; consult her husband's happiness, acquire the respect
 
 14 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the public, and enjoy a conscience void of reproach, 
 the first of all blessings. Thus Josephine received from 
 day to day, from the best of mothers, lessons which were 
 not lost upon her. In after life she put them in practice, 
 and more than once blessed the kind hand which had 
 deigned to mark out her most essential and sacred duties.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I5 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 " Divine Hope ! " thought then Josephine, " bright 
 daughter of the skies ! thou hast consolation for the 
 wretched, and yet fliest from me who am now scarcely 
 in the morning of life. Alas, thou seemest to shun me ! 
 Thou art deaf to my cries, and yet thou alone canst 
 give me peace ! — peace ! while all things around seem 
 to smile upon me. All seem animated with pleasure 
 and bliss — all but me. Nature, for the islanders, is the 
 same to-morrow as yesterday ; and yet for a time, with 
 a veil which I cannot penetrate, she has hidden herself 
 from my eyes ! " Such were the thoughts of the beautiful 
 Creole while entering upon her thirteenth year. 
 
 Whether misfortune had linked itself to the destinies 
 
 of the de K family, or whether their calamities came 
 
 upon them without their being able to escape them, it 
 had become necessary for them to quit the hospitable 
 island where they had lived for twenty-five years. Mr. 
 
 de K was forced to lea\e suddenly for England to 
 
 assert ,his heirship to the estate of Lord Lov , and 
 
 took with him his son. His wife remained a short 
 time in Martinique with her ycnmgest daughter. Pier 
 sister for some years lived in the north of Scotland, 
 'VWiither she had followed her husband. 
 
 Josephine found each day a new charm in the society 
 
 of Madame de K and became attached to her by the 
 
 tenderest friendship ; she concealed from her none of her 
 tastes, none of her inclinations, and in these she was 
 skilfully guided by that amiable woman.
 
 l6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Maria was more devoted to solitude, and, in order to 
 divert her sister, would often contrive some plan for the 
 relief of a family employed in their service, and whom 
 they sought, by their benevolent attentions, to rob of all 
 sense of the frowns of Fortune. The children became 
 objects of their most anxious care. Their benefactresses 
 obtained for them what their parents refused to others 
 in their condition. The overseer of the slaves often com- 
 plained of this preference, which to him appeared unjust. 
 This inflexible man knew no motives but menaces and 
 flogging, and he employed them with a ferocity truly 
 revolting. Every anniversary of the birth of the two 
 young ladies was consecrated to the liberation of a slave. 
 This indulgence became, as they grew up, the price of 
 their good conduct, and of their progress in their studies,. 
 Thus, in making others happy, the feeling Josephine 
 found in some sort the means of charming away her 
 own sorrows. She no longer heard anyone speak of 
 William, of that ^^'illiam whom she had loved so well. 
 From time to time, she interrogated his mother respect- 
 ing him, but Madame de K merely replied that her 
 
 son was sent to the University of Oxford to finish his 
 education. 
 
 Many young persons of her age whom she was fond 
 of, paid weekly visits to the family ; they were received 
 in the politest manner, and fetes often prepared for them. 
 They as yet tasted only liberty, that precious privilege of 
 youth, and knew not that they should ever have other 
 duties to perform and other accomplishments to attain. 
 
 These young Creoles gave themselves up to unre- 
 strained merriment ; but the sombre Maria, shut up 
 with her teacher, employed herself in cultivating such 
 pleasing talents as she possessed, or in taking lessons
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I7 
 
 upon those duties which a woman of the grand mojidc is 
 called upon to discharge. She was on the point of 
 setting out for France, where Madame Renaudin had 
 conceived the idea of marrying her to the son of the 
 Marquis de Beauharnais. It seemed, on the other hand, 
 to Josephine that Martinique was the theatre where she 
 was to act her part. She did not sigh after a new 
 world, though she would have been enchanted if the 
 
 de K family had consented to bring William back 
 
 to the colony. Such is the power of imagination ! We 
 love to recall the scenes of childhood, and the friends 
 of our youth are always first in our recollection. 
 
 Josephine used to call to mind, with a positive 
 emotion, the circumstance of one of her female com- 
 panions accompanying her in her walks near her resi- 
 dence ; they passed whole days together, sometimes 
 sitting in the shade of a palm-tree, sometimes reposing 
 beneath a majestic American cedar of strong aromatic 
 scent, while their negresses attended upon them. A 
 thousand interesting conversations were had here, and 
 
 the son of Madame de K^ was always the subject. 
 
 One day Josephine perceived that her companion lis- 
 tened to her with unusual attention, and seemed, so to 
 speak, to enjoy the torments which the absence of young 
 \\'illiam occasioned her. The sentiment of jealousy was 
 a stranger to her heart, and yet she could not support 
 the idea of seeing her young companion happier than 
 herself, though she managed so to control herself as to 
 impose upon her. Nevertheless, in her vexation, she 
 could not help saying that in youth, real stains upon 
 one's character are more culpable than at mature age. 
 And in truth, the sense of the ingratitude of her young 
 lover afflicted her uuich less in view of the wrong he 
 
 VOL. 1 -2
 
 1 8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had done, than that which he had aimed to do. " He is 
 right," said she, with vehemence ; " he wants to keep me 
 from loving, all the rest of my life." While thus speak- 
 ing, she trembled, and an involuntary shudder shook 
 her whole frame as she discovered a letter in her com- 
 panion's hand. Her eyes fell on the seal ; she recognised 
 the handwriting. It was William's. " Give it me," 
 said she, with energy, but with visible emotion; "I think 
 I have courage enough to read it. What will it cost 
 you, after all, to give me this satisfaction ? " Mademoiselle 
 
 de K handed it to her, and, by her ironical smile, 
 
 seemed to say, " That will not impose upon you." In 
 fact, William's letter contained only a seducing picture 
 of the beauties of the capital of the three Kingdoms ; it 
 expressed his hopes, but did not contain the name of 
 Josephine. She knew not how to account for this in- 
 difference, nor knew, even yet, that the sentiment with 
 which he had inspired her was love. Her companion, 
 discovering that she was really affected, explained the 
 little trick. This letter was addressed to his brother, 
 the companion of his childhood, with whom William 
 kept up a regular correspondence. Josephine was re- 
 assured. From this time forth she mastered her feelings, 
 and smiled at the future. She ceased uttering reproaches 
 against W'illiam, though she could have wished to penetrate 
 the secrets of his heart. Her aversion to lying made her 
 remember this black falsehood, and from that time she 
 openly broke with this young lady, not seeing her at all, 
 except as mere civility required, and avoiding her on all 
 occasions when she could do so with decency. 
 
 Months passed away in the hope of seeing William 
 return ; Josephine had in a manner contracted the habits 
 of Jean Jacques Rousseau (2). She might have been
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE ig 
 
 seen every morning carefully picking up all the pebbles 
 which came in her way, and throwing them at the nearest 
 tree. This became her favourable or unfavourable augury. 
 She collected with avidity all the prognostics, and then 
 awaited quietly their fulfilment. In remarking upon this 
 habit, she was accustomed to say of herself: "Like the 
 author of 'Emile,' I know not whether I ought to smile 
 or sigh at myself." 
 
 However that may be, Mademoiselle de Tascher 
 formed the project of going to consult a woman of 
 colour, named Euphemia,^ who enjoyed a great reputation 
 in Martinique, where she passed for a magician. This 
 mulatto woman inspired such a dread throughout the 
 colony, that, when the young negroes did wrong, they 
 were threatened with a visit from this disciple of 
 Beelzebub. Having fixed upon a day, Josephine, accom- 
 panied by two of her female friends, whom she had 
 inspired with the same curiosity, proceeded to the house 
 of the Irish Pythoness. 
 
 They found her living in a modest cabin, which she 
 Iiad built near the " Three Islets." The avenue to her 
 magic cell was bordered with the Amaryllis gigantea (3). 
 Josephine took a fancy to this plant, and resolved to 
 have several bunches of it planted in the most con- 
 spicuous place about her house. 
 
 The three young Creoles found the Irish hag in a 
 room that was somewhat elevated, where she seemed to 
 give audiences. She was not placed under a canopy 
 glittering with gold and rubies ; she did not affect a 
 tone of grandeur and severity ; no hurricane attended 
 her ; in entering her house, no hissing of frightful 
 
 I She had belonged to Madame Renaudin ; she was Irish, and 
 surnamed David.
 
 20 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 serpents was heard, which would not cease until the 
 new Medea should speak or make a sign ; no crescent 
 glittered on her brow ; but she was seated on a simple 
 cane mat, and surrounded by a throng of the curious. 
 All were in a commotion difficult to describe. Josephine 
 and her companions began to feel how foolish they had 
 been ; a panic terror seized them ; they found themselves 
 face to face with her who was to tell them their fate. 
 At sight of them, this prophetic exclamation escaped the 
 mulatto woman : " You see, my mouth exhales no 
 poisonous vapour ; neither flame nor smoke surrounds 
 my dwelling ; nor does a volcano vomit out around me 
 its sulphurous clouds. No, my pretty Creoles, do not 
 be afraid, nor be sorry that you have honoured me with 
 your visit." Then assuming an air less grave, she said 
 to one of them in a mild, sweet tone: "Though you are 
 young, you have had considerable experience in aiding 
 your mother in the government of several households ; 
 you will marry a man from another colony^; you will 
 be the mother of one daughter and spend nearly the 
 whole of your life in Europe ; yours will be but an 
 ephemeral part on the theatre of the world, but your 
 
 fortune will always sustain you."^ Miss S ■, who 
 
 accompanied them, then presented to her, trembling, 
 some ground Mocha coffee.'' At the sight of it Euphemia 
 uttered a cry. This unexpected surprise produced a 
 deep impression upon the young American ; but she 
 immediately recovered herself, and told the woman 
 plainly that she had not the least confidence in the art 
 
 1 Guadaloupe. 
 
 2 She is now Madame de St. A •. 
 
 3 A sort of token, the resuks of which were so striking in regard 
 to Gustavus III., King of Sweden. This truly astonishing prediction 
 may be found at p. 544 of the "Souvenirs Prophefiques d'une Sibyle."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 21 
 
 of divination. The woman replied: "When you appeared 
 before me, I showed some perturbation, but it was not to 
 awe you ; I subject nobody to rigorous trials, and, far 
 from occasioning you the least pain, I aim only to foretell 
 to you what shall be your future destinies." 
 
 She then examined the curved lines of Miss S 's 
 
 left hand with the most scrupulous attention, and after 
 some moments' reflection said to her : " Your parents 
 will soon send you to Europe to perfect your education. 
 Your ship will be taken by Algerine corsairs ; you will 
 be led away captive, and immediately conducted into a 
 seraglio. There you will have a son ; this son shall 
 reign gloriously, but his steps to the throne will first 
 have been sprinkled with the blood of one of his last 
 predecessors.^ As to you, you will never enjoy the public 
 honours of the Court, but you will occupy a vast and 
 magnificent palace, in which you shall rule. But at the 
 moment when you shall think yourself the most happy 
 of women, your happiness shall vanish like a dream ; 
 and a wasting disease conduct you to the tomb.'^" At 
 
 1 The unfortunate Sultan Selim II. 
 
 2 This interesting Creole quitted the Island of Martinique in 
 the year 1776. The vessel which was carrying her to France was 
 attacked by Algerine corsairs. At the moment they turned their 
 prows towards the States of Barbary, their ship was pillaged by 
 
 Tunis pirates, who met them at sea. Miss S became the booty 
 
 of these new conquerors, who destined the poor girl to the Sultan's 
 seraglio. On her arrival at Constantinople, she augmented the pro- 
 digious number of odalisks of all nations ; and at the end of a certain 
 time, became the mother of a son. Sultan Mahnoulh, who at this 
 day reigns gloriously in Turkey, owes his birth to this American 
 
 girl. Having become Sultana, Miss S used to take pleasure 
 
 in the singular prediction which was made to her in Martinique by 
 the Irishwoman, Euphemia. As gratitude was the first sentiment 
 of her heart, she had sought out the means of assuring to this 
 coloured woman an honourable maintenance ; and when she thought 
 herself the most fortunate of mothers, and rejoiced to see her
 
 22 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 length, Josephine's turn came. As yet, the prophetess 
 had inspired her with so little confidence that she was 
 even tempted not to submit to an examination. En- 
 couraged, however, by the example and entreaties of her 
 young friends, she hazarded some sly questions ; then, 
 with an indifferent and disdainful air, she asked her to 
 look at the inside of her hands. The black woman, after 
 telling her th-at her art taught her that she really wished 
 to know the whole truth, notwithstanding her apparent 
 indifference, remarked that her frankness would cause 
 her a great surprise. She then examined the ball of her 
 left thumb with marked attention ; while doing so, the 
 Pythoness changed countenance repeatedly ; then, in a 
 hollow, shrill voice, she articulated these words : — 
 
 " You will be married to a man of a fair complexion, 
 destined to be the husband of another of your family. 
 The young lady whose place you are called to fill will 
 not live long. A young Creole, whom you love, does 
 not cease to think of you ; you will never marry him, 
 and you will make vain attempts to save his life (4) ; but 
 his end will be unhappy. Your star promises you two 
 marriages. Your first husband will be a man born in 
 Martinique, but he will reside in Europe and wear a 
 sword ; he will enjoy some moments of good fortune. 
 A sad legal proceeding will separate you from him, and, 
 after many great troubles which are to befall the king- 
 dom of the Franks, he will perish tragically and leave 
 you a widow with two helpless children. Your second 
 
 numerous family coming to establish themselves around her, she 
 fell a victim to a lingering disease, of which, after some months, 
 she died in the year 181 1, at the age of fifty-one years. She 
 earnestly recommended to her son her numerous friends ; and among 
 these was Josephine, for whom, it is said, she never ceased to cherish 
 the most tender recollections.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 23 
 
 husband will be of an olive complexion, of European 
 birth ; without fortune, yet he will become famous ; he 
 will fill the world with his glory, and will subject a 
 great many nations to his power. You will then become 
 an eminent nwrnan, and possess a supreme dignity ; but 
 many people will forget your kindnesses. After having 
 astonished the world you will die miserable (5). The country 
 in which what I foretell must happen forms a part of 
 Celtic Gaul ; and more than once, in the midst of your 
 prosperity, you will regret the happy and peaceful life 
 you led in the colony. At the moment you shall quit 
 it {hilt not for ever) a prodigy will appear in the air — this 
 will be the first harbinger of your astonishing destiny." 
 
 Having left the house of Euphemia, the young con- 
 suiters gazed at each other for some time in silence, 
 unable to account for the different sensations they ex- 
 perienced. They reciprocally promised to keep all secret, 
 and not one of them was either depressed or elated with 
 
 her fortune. Miss S , indeed, confessed to her friends, 
 
 some days after, that she vacillated between hope and 
 fear, agitated by a thousand conjectures respecting her 
 singular horoscope. Morpheus no longer strewed his sleep- 
 inducing poppies on her eyelids, and for many a night 
 she was totally without repose. 
 
 Josephine, some time after, recounted to her father the 
 strange prediction which had been made to her, to which 
 she said she attached not the least importance ; though 
 she compared it to that of the widow Scarron (Madame 
 de Maintenon). Like Josephine, the granddaughter of 
 Agrippa d'Aubigne had passed her early years in Marti- 
 nique ; and yet history teaches us that a bricklayer foretold 
 to her that she should one day mount the throne of 
 France. In recalling these historical facts, M. de Tascher
 
 24 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 imagined he saw the spirit of the great Louis XIV. 
 wandering about him. " I regret but one thing," said 
 he; "it is that I was not born in that age, which even 
 now sheds its glorious Hghts upon our own." His wife 
 smiled at his enthusiasm, for she looked upon power 
 only as a rock in the ocean, on which, sooner or later, 
 the strongest vessel is dashed and broken. For several 
 months, however, she amused herself with the dream 
 of her daughter's future greatness, and often repeated 
 this beautiful thought of Lucan — "The oracles of Heaven 
 show the future only through a cloud." ^ 
 
 But the gay and light-hearted young Creole soon for- 
 got all the prophetess had told her ; for, said she to her 
 friends, " Whoever promises too much, creates distrust." 
 This incredulity was the more natural in Josephine, as 
 Euphemia had insisted that she must give up William, 
 whom, nevertheless, she still flattered herself with the 
 hope of marrying: 
 
 " Jusqu' au dernier moment un malheureux espere." 
 
 I . . . Tripodas, vatesque deorum 
 Sors obscura tenet.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 25 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 The family of Josephine were about to see their wishes 
 accompHshed, " Even now," wrote Madame Renaudin 
 to her brother (6) de Tascher, " the fetes of Hymen are 
 in preparation; garlands of flowers adorn the temple, and 
 clouds of incense will soon rise from the altars of that 
 divinity. The day for the nuptial pomp will soon be 
 fixed." 
 
 Suddenly the eldest of the two Misses Pagerie was 
 seized with a severe malady; her face became pale, her 
 respiration difficult, and she felt every moment her pulse 
 beating more faintly. These terrible symptoms taught 
 her mother that the relentless Fates were about to sever 
 the threads of life for her beloved Maria. 
 
 " Yes," she exclaimed with deep sorrow, " soon 
 Maria's only bed will be the tomb; — the fears I have 
 entertained from the commencement of the disease 
 hasten to their fulfilment ; — alas ! the garlands of affec- 
 tion are withered." 
 
 The family became disconsolate ; the interesting girl 
 was universally and deservedly lamented. Never was 
 the conduct of a young lady more exemplary. She 
 fulfilled all her duties wuth the most scrupulous exact- 
 ness. The mother was in despair. Josephine was deeply 
 affected by her mother's grief, while the latter, out of 
 respect for the feelings of her surviving child, tried to 
 control her sorrows. By degrees, however, she became 
 more composed, and found her only solace in the 
 attachment of her remaining daughter. Poor Maria was
 
 26 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lamented by her sister, who now resolved to follow her 
 example ; the more, because her tender mother con- 
 tinually pronounced the name of the lost one, and 
 repeated sorrowfully the exclamation : •' Would that 
 Josephine could console me for the loss of my eldest 
 born ! " (7). ^ 
 
 In this she succeeded, by means of careful attentions 
 and tenderness; so far, indeed, that she hardly recognised 
 herself. Her approach to womanhood had ripened her 
 ideas ; in losing the best friend she had on earth, she 
 found herself in the midst of a vast solitude, though 
 her family still remained to her, and united their efforts 
 to soothe her for a loss which was, alas ! irreparable ; 
 but months passed away before they succeeded. 
 
 She became melancholy ; she was a burden to herself, 
 and afraid she should become so to others ; a thousand 
 gloomy thoughts weighed upon her spirits ; her native 
 gaiety was without aliment, and her heart became a 
 prey to pangs, the keener that they were the first of 
 the kind which had assailed her. Her father was the 
 first to discover her true situation, and to talk with her 
 about it ; and to him she opened her heart's secret. 
 
 Looking her in the face, he at first treated it as a 
 joke, but afterwards endeavoured to reason her out of it. 
 He told her that, as he had not been able to keep the 
 promise he had made to Madame Renaudin, he should 
 charge her with its fulfilment. The words were a 
 thunderclap to Josephine. Aware, however, that prayers 
 would avail nothing with him, and that he well knew 
 upon whom she had placed her affections, she rose and 
 said to him with moderation, but with firmness: "Father, 
 may my destiny one day cause you no tears ! " 
 
 He replied that her aunt might secure her permanent
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 27 
 
 happiness, as she had a decided influence over the Marquis 
 de Beauharnais, whose son, destined to become his son- 
 in-law, appeared to consent to an exchange ; and that it 
 was she, Josephine, who alone could supply the loss of 
 his affianced Maria. 
 
 We have remarked that M. de la Pagerie idolised his 
 favourite daughter. The parallel he drew between her 
 and her sister was always to the advantage of the latter. 
 'Tis thus that most parents become blinded to the faults 
 of their children. Josephine was for a while silenced, but 
 soon implored him to remember that she was promised to 
 William. De Tascher was moved, but, assuming his 
 authority, he added, in a firm tone : " What you ask of 
 me, my dear child, is impossible. I have done all I could 
 to fulfil my most cherished vow ; you must obey. Be- 
 sides, my daughter, the times are no longer the same; 
 you are now our only hope." He then show^ed her that, 
 by means of the favours she was to receive from her 
 aunt, Renaudin, she was become one of the most advan- 
 tageous matches in Martinique ; and that, for this reason, 
 
 the son of M. de K could never become her husband. 
 
 " It is true," said he, "your hand was destined to him." 
 
 " But," said she," " your intentions, father, are no 
 longer the same ! " 
 
 " My dear child ! " said he, " and how has that 
 happened ? " 
 
 "Why," she replied, "has my father renounced his 
 purpose ? " 
 
 " Because," said he, " the immense inheritance which 
 he is to receive is but a mere substitution ; in case he 
 
 takes the title of Lord Lov , he must marry the niece 
 
 of the testator, and it is only on this condition that 
 William can assume the name and the arms of the old
 
 28 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nobleman. Besides, everything shows that this young 
 man has, since he left for England, utterly forgotten you." 
 
 Happily for her, Josephine was ignorant that William 
 had written her twenty letters, which her parents had kept 
 from her. Of course she accused him of coldness, indiffer- 
 ence, and even of ingratitude. 
 
 She now promised to submit to her parents in whatever 
 they exacted. But in seeking to avenge herself on William 
 she was herself the greatest sufferer, and really became 
 the first to break her vows. The scenes of her childhood 
 haunted her imagination ; every object recalled a tender 
 recollection ; she loved to frequent the spot which wit- 
 nessed their last farewells, and there to abandon herself 
 to tumultuous and melancholy thoughts. 
 
 One day she noticed a tree on which her young friends 
 had carved their names. It is impossible to describe the 
 emotions she experienced at seeing her own name united 
 with his whom she believed to be perjured. She instantly 
 effaced this symbol of their love. "Alas!" said she to 
 herself, "the sun shone upon our love at its birth, but it is 
 to be feared he does not exist in the midst of the thunders 
 and tempests. A dark and dreary future awaits me;" 
 and with the point of a knife, and with trembling hand, she 
 inscribed these words: " Unhappy William, thou hast forgotten 
 me ! ! r' She felt better after taking this trifling revenge. 
 Time brovight her to her senses ; and then she sought to 
 comprehend fully this truth : 
 
 " Rien au monde, apres I'esperance, 
 N'est si trompeur que I'apparence." 
 
 News from France arrived often, and Madame Renaudin 
 insisted constantly on her niece's coming to reside with 
 her. She could have wished also, for her own gratification, 
 that the Pagerie family should come and see her at
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 2g 
 
 Fontainebleau, where she had visited for some time. Her 
 brother would have readily consented, but Josephine's 
 mother was unwilling to leave her own country. He 
 used all his skill to persuade her, by exciting her curiosity 
 and drawing pompous pictures of the happy country her 
 daughter was to inhabit. Madame Tascher's reply was : 
 " It is quite easy to embellish or to discolour objects, 
 while I am two thousand leagues distant from the capital." 
 It was then agreed that Josephine should proceed alone. 
 Her parents kept her in ignorance of their purpose of 
 separating from her. I^ut she was by no means so stupid 
 as not to perceive what every look of theirs indicated. 
 
 Her mother clasped her in her arms, gazed at her in 
 silence, and endeavoured to restrain her tears, which, 
 nevertheless, soon began to flow. 
 
 If her daughter asked the occasion of her weeping, 
 she would answer by some careless observation, or some 
 moral maxim. "The moment," said she, "a man gives 
 himself up to joy, is often that which immediately precedes 
 the misfortune he least thinks of;" or, "It becomes every 
 one to be constantly prepared for misfortune." Josephine 
 knew not the meaning of those words ; and these cool 
 reflections of her mother made her suspect tliat her grief 
 was not altogether sincere. She, however, soon discovered 
 the real cause, and that her mother had been gradually 
 preparing her to endure with courage their mournful 
 separation. 
 
 When the enigma was fully sohed, Josephine was 
 only able to stretch forth her hands to that adored mother 
 and tell her, in a tone of despair : " Now I know my 
 father has irrevocably disposed of my hand." Then, borne 
 down by grief, she threw herself at her feet, and exclaimed 
 in agony: "Oh, save me — save Maria's sister!" M. de
 
 30 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Tascher entered the room. He caught his fainting wife 
 in his arms, and in an indignant tone said to his daughter : 
 "Has her precious Hfe ceased to be dear to you?"' This 
 terrible exclamation gave Josephine strength to aid him in 
 placing her in a chair. "Ah, my dear child," said Madame 
 de la Pagerie, with a mixed expression of grief and tender- 
 ness, " we are, indeed, both unhappy. You are about to 
 undertake a long voyage. The furious wintry winds will 
 toss the waves ; but the sea v/ill be less agitated than my 
 heart. Oh, my daughter ! even now I see you in the 
 bosom of the storm, tossed by fearful tempests, and driven 
 from shoal to shoal. Alas ! I see the future — it freezes me 
 with terror" ... In a moment Josephine's face was 
 reddened with a blush ; she leaned upon the bosom of 
 her mother, and cried out, with a voice faint with grief: 
 " I don't want to say it before my father ; " and her 
 agonised looks showed how dreadfully the poor girl's heart 
 was tortured. M. de Tascher, who was still present, heard 
 it ; he wept, he embraced her tenderly, and promised her 
 his support. He left them ; but it is easy to imagine 
 the struggle which must have taken place in a heart which 
 was coldly sacrificing to its vast ambition the existence 
 of a beloved daughtec. 
 
 The moment of her departure presented itself to Jose- 
 phine under the most frightful aspect ; all former illusions 
 had vanished, and despair now seized upon her heart. 
 
 Often did she repeat with bitterness the sentiment, 
 " The land we are born in is always the dearest." The 
 wise, it is said, can live anywhere ; but the charm which 
 attaches to the clime of our birth, to the place where we 
 experienced the first sentiments of pleasure, and even of 
 pain — that mysterious attraction which draws us so gently 
 towards the objects which first met our view — oh, no! it
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3I 
 
 is not in the imagination that all this takes its source. 
 There are purer skies than those under which Josephine 
 was born, there are spots more beautiful, but there are 
 none so dear. The nearer the day approached when she 
 was to exchange them for the country she was to inhabit, 
 the more sorrowful did she become. She shed tears in 
 abundance, a kind of luxury to her wounded spirit ; she 
 gave them free course without noticing who was present 
 to witness them. 
 
 "My dear daughter," said her mother, "our separation 
 will impose an additional obligation on IMadame Renaudin 
 towards you." 
 
 The afflicted mother gave her the sagest counsels ; 
 but soon her fortitude forsook her. 
 
 " My Josephine," said she, " the seas you are about 
 to pass will become an eternal barrier between us. In 
 conforming with your parents' wishes ; in yielding, as 
 you have done, to our prudent advice, you have given 
 the most conclusive proof of the goodness of your heart. 
 Heaven will bless you. It is, perhaps, Heaven itself 
 which, in its wisdom, has ordained that you should 
 establish yourself in Europe. Oh ! may you enjoy in 
 your new situation an unchanging felicity ; may you never 
 resemble those young women who, victims of a fatal 
 passion, irritated by a sense of their dependence, curse 
 
 their fate and curse those who I cannot conclude, 
 
 Josephine ! I would solace your feelings. What passes 
 in my heart must speak the rest. — Such are the sad 
 results of secret inclinations; all the protestations of love 
 which accompany them are treacherous and hollow. Alas ! 
 most men feel but a transitory passion ; others address 
 us their homage only from politeness, or for the sake of 
 idle show, and seek only to abuse the sincerity or the
 
 32 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 credulity of a young woman, in order to boast of their 
 triumphs." 
 
 " Do not," said Josephine, " do not distrust me ; the 
 best title to my confidence that the man can boast who shall 
 become my husband, will be that he was commended by 
 yourself and my father. This title will for ever assure him 
 my esteem and respect. Yet, I confess it, I could wish to 
 throw a spell over the present, so that I might not wish 
 for another future . . . One single thought has produced 
 in my mind the utmost embarrassment." 
 
 Madame de la Pagerie gazed on her child, and, with 
 a smile of indescribable sweetness, said — 
 
 " Your last resolution has established an eternal tran- 
 quillity in my heart ; " thus seeking to efface the tender 
 impressions which the thought of William had aroused 
 in Josephine's mind. But, on the contrary, this conver- 
 sation served only to rekindle the flame which was not 
 yet extinguished. 
 
 Happily, however, the young Creole took counsel of 
 her good sense, silenced her grief, and confirmed her 
 parents in the idea that the recollections of her youth 
 were passing before her eyes, only like wandering clouds, 
 which lose themselves in the boundless horizon. 
 
 Some months passed in anxious waiting, during which 
 her parents vainly strove, by the tenderest cares, to quiet 
 her imagination. Josephine read their thoughts, and 
 understood them perfectly. They used even to stand 
 upon the sea-shore and, without speaking to each other, 
 contemplate the succession of waves which rolled forward 
 and broke at their feet — a striking image of the destinies 
 of man, whose end is ever the same. 
 
 Josephine, at that time, seemed doomed to follow poor 
 Maria. She fell sick ; her grief overpowered her.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 33 
 
 Madame de la Pagerie said to those who came to con- 
 dole with her : " My daughter has no support but me, no 
 pleasure but her own tears ; but no human foresight can 
 prevail against her destiny ! " 
 
 From these few words it would seem that she was a 
 believer in the system of fatality. It cannot be doubted 
 that our lot is often fated ; that the laws of destiny are 
 incomprehensible. 
 
 The young and beautiful Creole, a prey to melancholy, 
 was now about to leave the paternal roof. She received 
 the last embraces of her family. Her first trial had at 
 length arrived. 
 
 M. de Tascher committed her to the care of a faithful 
 friend (Madame de B— — ) ; her black servants were ready to 
 conduct her to the port, and the young American girl was 
 about to tear herself from this scene of grief and to fulfil her 
 destiny. Her father, pale and filled with anguish, sobbed 
 and pressed her to his bosom. Her mother and Madame 
 
 de K pointed out to her, in the far future, that hope 
 
 which cheers and consoles the unfortunate. She listened 
 with eagerness to those tender words, and witnessed the 
 tears of friendship. She passed the threshold of her home 
 in the midst of the sobs and lamentations of her slaves. 
 Her mother threw herself into her arms. 
 
 *' Remember," said she, " my dear, unhappy child, my 
 blessings and my regrets attend you ! — my happiness 
 vanishes with you ! " 
 
 " It is no longer time to dissemble!" cried Josephine, 
 with an accent of the profoundest grief. " I see it ; I have 
 now nothing to hope for ! everything in my nature arms 
 me against weakness; but how — how can I find strength 
 to leave all those whom I love ? " 
 
 She spoke and kissed the earth which saw her born, 
 
 VOL. I 3
 
 34 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 but which was not to see her die. She moistened it 
 with her tears. She then went on board the vessel which 
 was to take her far from her country, her parents, her 
 friends, and from the mother of young Wilham. 
 
 The ship remained for some time in the offing, in sight 
 of Fort Royal. The very winds seemed to refuse their 
 support to the projects of the de Tascher family. 
 
 The sea was agitated by horrible tempests. 
 
 Struck by these unfavourable signs, the gloomy predic- 
 tions of the mulatto woman, Euphemia, recurred to her 
 mind — predictions which now began to be accomplished. 
 The sister of Maria then called to mind and repeated, with 
 fear and dismay, these well-known lines : 
 
 "Plut aux cruels destins qui, pour moi, sont ouverts, 
 Que, a un voile eternal, mes yeux fussent couverts, 
 Fatal present du ciel ! Science malheureuse."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 The ship which bore Josephine, and which was about 
 to place between her and her parents the ocean's wide 
 barrier, got under way ; the pilots raised their cry, and she 
 passed out of port under full sail. Behold her now in the 
 midst of Neptune's kingdom. The hours pass on, the sun 
 grows dark, and the air begins to be agitated. Signs of a 
 storm become visible — a sort of disturbance in the atmo- 
 sphere, known at sea under the name of tourmente, seemed 
 impending. Hardly had Josephine recovered from the 
 shock produced by the separation, when she heard around 
 her a thousand confused cries expressive of general wonder 
 Her spirit was still stricken by the recollection of her las 
 farewells to her friends ; but curiosity aroused her, and she 
 enquired into the occasion of the wonder that was expressed. 
 She was told that she alone was, probably, the primary 
 cause of the inexplicable phenomenon which attracted the 
 general attention.^ 
 
 By the aid of a telescope which the captain handed 
 her, she was enabled to observe, not without a feeling of 
 wonder and delight, in the midst of the clear azure of 
 the heavens, unobscured by a single cloud, a luminous 
 meteor, which she contemplated attentively, and regarded 
 as a happy presage, foretokening to her a prosperous, a 
 brilliant future. Turning then towards the spot she had 
 
 I It would appear that the prediction made to her by the black 
 woman, David, was already known to the captain of the vessel, M. de 
 
 B , and to the principal passengers. They heard it repeated in the 
 
 colony, even at the moment of embarkation. The report was, indeed, 
 general.
 
 36 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 left, the spot where she was born, she raised her hands to 
 heaven and uttered a prayer for the authors of her being. 
 She perceived upon the beach a crowd of the inhabitants 
 gazing after her, waving their hands, and testifying, by their 
 attitude and gestures, the surprise and admiration they 
 felt at this strange phenomenon. The captain, who had 
 sent a man to the mast-head, informed the young Creole 
 that the object which was exciting so much attention 
 was a phosphoric ilame called " St. Elmo's Fire." 
 
 It seemed to attach itself to the ship, forming a sort 
 of wreath around it, and one would have said that the 
 spangles of lambent flame which it threw out vied with 
 each other for the honour of encircling the ship.^ 
 
 All were speculating upon the causes of this prodigy ; 
 but Josephine was the only one on board who took 
 no part in the conversation. On that day of inward 
 anguish she could not, like the rest of the passengers, 
 give herself up to pleasure and amusements. She was 
 unfitted both in mind and body ; she heard little or 
 nothing of all that was said around her, and it was only 
 at intervals, and as if awaking from sleep, that she was 
 able to answer questions; and then only in monosyllables. 
 The weather was fine, the captain's wife was unceasing in 
 her attentions, and at length the motion of the ship and the 
 majestic spectacle of the ocean which she was traversing, 
 seemed, in some degree, to restore her gaiety. This, 
 however, was but momentary, like the star which shows 
 itself for an instant between the flying clouds. She calls 
 
 I This is an historical fact, attested by a great number of the 
 inhabitants of Martinique, who were witnesses of it. This phos- 
 phoric flame attached itself to the mainmast of the vessel, and it 
 was still seen at the moment of her debarkment. This anecdote 
 was told me by the Empress herself. Josephine was taken to 
 France by M. de B ; she embarked at Fort Royal.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 37 
 
 philosophy to her aid, and this calmed her mind, though 
 it could not solace her heart. The sight of the immense 
 expanse of waters which was separating her from Mar- 
 tinique kept her in a profound melancholy. She could 
 not account, even to herself, for her feelings. The cold 
 and humid air of the sea affected her health, and for 
 weeks the most serious apprehensions were felt for her 
 life ; indeed, so hopeless seemed her case that she was 
 almost ready to be placed on the fatal plank and precipi- 
 tated into the waves. But as the vessel approached the 
 coast of Europe she began to improve. 
 
 The pangs of absence were soothed by the hope of 
 soon obtaining news from her friends. Near the end 
 of the voyage a frightful commotion was heard on deck. 
 The young American listened attentively to the bowlings 
 of the wind, as they came to her ears mingled with the 
 affrighted cries of the mariners, which the tempest-beaten 
 rocks echoed far and wide with horrible distinctness. The 
 intrepid captain preserved all his self-possession in the 
 midst of the menacing dangers. The bright disc of the 
 moon lighted up the whole of the neighbouring coast, 
 and facilitated the execution of. the orders which he 
 gave with as much calmness as prudence. His greatest 
 cause of alarm arose from the waters smiting against 
 the vessel with so much violence that fears were enter- 
 tained that she would go to pieces. At one moment, 
 borne upon the summit of a wave, she seemed to remain 
 in a kind of motionless state, not less frightful than the 
 heaviest shock ; the next she plunged to the bottom of 
 the swelling billows. 
 
 At length the storm abated and tranquillity was 
 restored. The crew, after a moment's rest, repaired the 
 mast, the breaking of which had greatly embarrassed the
 
 38 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 working of the ship. — Oh, ye who, in the course of an 
 agitated Hfe, have seen the frail bark which bore all your 
 hopes ready to sink in the depths of misfortune, you 
 alone know the joyousness of a calm after a tempest ! 
 
 The next morning Josephine looked out upon the still 
 troubled sea, the image of her own tumultuous feelings, 
 by no means yet allayed by the absence of the causes 
 which had produced them. 
 
 The fall of the mast had covered the deck with rigging 
 and fragments. Everything was in confusion, and one 
 could see upon the faces of the fatigued sailors the evi- 
 dences of discouragement and terror. 
 
 A sight so new to her, the movements of the seamen 
 occupied in repairing the disorders occasioned by the 
 storm, now engrossed her attention. The hours passed 
 by rapidly, and she took no note of them. When the 
 captain had refitted his ship, judging the weather favour- 
 able, he again set sail and continued his voyage, which 
 was henceforth tranquil, although he still encountered 
 adverse winds. At length a cry of " Land ! land ! " 
 awakened Josephine from her dreamy reverie. 
 
 The shallop entered the port.^ A crowd of sad 
 thoughts again assailed and tormented her. Could she, 
 
 I She landed at Marseilles, whither her aunt Renaudin had come 
 to meet her. It appeared that she had suffered a good deal during 
 the passage. Many a time they entertained fears for her life. The 
 winds were contrary and storms frequent. A j'oung Creole, named 
 Fanny (now Madame Lefevre), a protegee of Madame Renaudin, 
 accompanied Josephine on the voyage. They were both so silly 
 that they even carried along with them their dolls, to serve them 
 for pastimes on board the vessel. Josephine had a predilection 
 altogether personal for hers. It seemed to her sometimes to recall 
 the looks of Maria, sometimes those of William. This childishness 
 may be excused ; the young Creole's heart could not remain inactive ; 
 it must be occupied. To love was one of the necessities of her
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 39 
 
 in this separation, which rendered her so miserable, 
 imagine that any circumstance would restore her to her 
 parents ? At what epoch should she have the consola- 
 tion of seeing them again ? . . . Under what auspices ? 
 . . . Great God ! . . , But let us not anticipate events. 
 Josephine's anxieties, however, were but light, and 
 were soon removed by the novelty of her situation. She 
 conceived the hope of a better lot, a hope which attached 
 itself to whatever she undertook. She felt, in fact, some 
 satisfaction in touching the soil of France, persuaded as 
 she was that she should not experience an emotion so 
 tender, a contentment so positive, had it been but a game 
 of chance, and not a presentiment of her destiny. The 
 glance of her mind pierced the mysteries of a brilliant 
 
 future. Being informed that M. de K and his son 
 
 had for some time resided at the capital. Mademoiselle 
 de Tascher felt that she now breathed the same air as 
 William, and that she should probably soon see him 
 again. This thought secretly flattered her : it restored 
 her reason, or, rather, rekindled her hope, and exercised 
 such a powerful influence upon her, that, on arriving at 
 Fontainebleau, her health became at once entirely restored. 
 In a few days the early friend of her childhood was pre- 
 sented to her by M. de K . This gentleman was 
 
 under the deepest obligations to the Marquis de Beau- 
 harnais, formerly Governor of Martinique, and intimately 
 connected with Madame Renaudin (8). During their stay 
 at Fontainebleau he constantly, and with the most polite 
 attentions, received them at his house, and their frequent 
 visits showed that it had become agreeable to them. 
 
 being ; to solace misfortune became her favourite virtue. Behold, 
 in two words, the most faithful, the most exact portrait of the woman 
 who was to astonish the world, and w'ho is so universally mourned.
 
 40 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Dinner over, M. de Beauharnais would propose a prome- 
 nade in the city or in the forests, but the beautiful Creole 
 usually remained at home, shut up in her aunt's apart- 
 ment. The thought of being alone with William made 
 her tremble. What, then, is that sentiment whose 
 presence produced upon her such a lively impression in 
 her then situation ? Alas ! as she became less and less 
 convinced of his indifference, she was more and more 
 anxious to avoid him. 
 
 Often was the son of M. de K announced at the 
 
 door, unaccompanied by his father, but the servants had 
 been charged not to admit him. One day, however, he 
 found the means of depositing on her toilette a letter, in 
 which he addressed to her the most spirited reproofs for 
 the coldness she manifested toward him. 'Twas thus 
 that she became finally and fully convinced that he could 
 not endure the thought of for ever living away from her. 
 He solicited a private interview. 
 
 No doubt it cost the tender-hearted girl a severe 
 struggle to deny him this last request, but her duty pre- 
 vailed over her feelings. 
 
 Her aunt turned off the female servant who had pre- 
 sumed to be the bearer of the imprudent epistle. "Ah," 
 
 said Josephine, " why did not my father tell M. de K^ 
 
 to beware how he suffered two beings, drawn towards 
 each other by a natural sympathy, to find themselves 
 together ? His own experience should have taught him 
 the danger, and guarded me against it ; but William's 
 father brought him to me himself. Alas ! it is impossible 
 he should know my secret. He thinks, probably, that at 
 my age^ one is incapable of loving; but if that respect- 
 able gentleman knew my feelings while I held that letter 
 I Josephine was scarcely fifteen when she went to France.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 4I 
 
 in my hand, I am sure he himself would become a prey 
 to the deepest regret ; his countenance, which reflects so 
 much calmness and contentment, would be furrowed with 
 anxiety and grief ; the felicity he promises himself in 
 seeing the daughter of his old friend happy would soon 
 disappear, and give place to a very different feeling." 
 
 There was no sacrifice to which Josephine did not feel 
 it her duty to submit in order to please her protectress. 
 She even asked to go into a convent, under pretence that 
 the state of her health required repose, and kept her bed 
 for several days ; she became the object of the deepest 
 anxiety. Her aunt informed her friends that she had 
 chosen for that purpose the Abbey de Panthemont, and 
 that she intended immediately to conduct her niece 
 thither. Preparations were made accordingly. Josephine 
 could not well avoid taking leave of William's father. 
 He told Madame Renaudin that his son was about to 
 quit Paris, and return to reside with one of his mother's 
 relations ; ^ and he came charged by his afflicted, heart- 
 broken son, to address to her his respectful homage. 
 " The discharge of this duty," WiUiam observed to his 
 father, " would have been, indeed-, grateful to me. There 
 was a time when I should have reserved it for myself 
 alone ; but I must now look with a dry eye upon all the 
 preparations for the marriage of the future Madame 
 Beauharnais, I will perform the whole of the sacrifice — 
 the most painful a human being can make ! To save 
 her I would drain the cup of hemlock, and not a sigh 
 should escape me! To die — oh! what is it to die, now 
 that I must give up for ever the bright illusion which I 
 
 I Madame de G then resided at St. Germain-en-Laye, but she 
 
 often visited at an EngHsh lady's, named JJrown, who had a country 
 seat at Choisy.
 
 42 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 have cherished from my very childhood ? Oh, my father ! 
 let me have her I love — her only; and keep for yourself 
 and my tender mother all — all the titles and treasures of 
 
 Lord Lov ! " With these words he sank into a sombre 
 
 melancholy, repeating to himself continually : " No, I shall 
 never see her again; too much presumption has been my 
 ruin, and I am now, indeed, paid for not daring to trust 
 to myself. I wrote to her because I had much to say 
 to her, and because I could not help relieving my heart ! " 
 
 Such was the too faithful report which M. de K 
 
 brought to the sister of M. de Tascher. Josephine listened 
 to it motionless, overwhelmed. A sudden paleness covered 
 her face ; her eyes filled, but she dared not turn them 
 upon William's father. Alas, the thoughts of that am- 
 bitious man were even then wandering amidst the 
 prospects of a future still more vast ! He looked upon 
 the illustrious match which he was arranging for his 
 son as an infallible means of entering upon an immense 
 inheritance in Scotland, once owned by his ancestors. 
 It was thus that the two families coolly calculated the 
 results of their respective projects. What mattered it 
 to them to plunge their offspring in despair, to rend them 
 
 asunder for ever, provided the son of M. de K could 
 
 revive an illustrious name, and Josephine Tascher de la 
 Pagerie receive the fortune which Madame Renaudin 
 had promised her ? Docile victims of their parents' 
 schemes, they were driven to renounce their mutual love, 
 and, like Paul and Virginia, to experience the blighting 
 effects of the ambition which reigns in European society. 
 Less happy than those other two Creoles, they were 
 condemned to live, and, without ceasing to love, to be 
 eternally strangers. Their early attachment was doomed 
 to experience this sad fatality.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 43 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 " To be contented with one's lot, whatever it may be ; 
 to live without ambition and without desires ; to rely upon 
 Providence alone — this 'is the true science of happiness, 
 and the one of which all men are destitute." 
 
 Such were the lessons of morality daily taught by the 
 Marquis de Beauharnais to the amiable Madame Renaudin. 
 Mademoiselle de Tascher had been presented to him on her 
 arrival at Fontainebleau, but he was far from supposing 
 that her aunt destined her for one of his sons.' At the first 
 mention of this alliance the old man showed so much re- 
 pugnance that the project soon ceased to be mentioned in 
 his presence. Common friends were resorted to as media- 
 tors. The claims of the viscount's family were numerous ; 
 he himself opposed the union. Bitterness began to infuse 
 itself into the controversy.^ The unhappy Josephine could 
 
 1 Some years before the Revolution the two sons of the Marquis 
 de Beauharnais had made a voyage to Egypt. Choiseul and Rochefou- 
 cault advocated and ordered the expedition. 
 
 2 Madame Renaudin, a Pagerie by birth, was a near relation to the 
 Marquis de Beauharnais, whom she at last married. He possessed an 
 
 estate at Beausse, called Fronville. Madame de L lived in a 
 
 chateau in the same province. She had with her another young lady 
 of the name of la Pagerie, a sister of Madame Renaudin. The latter 
 
 besought Madame L to use all her influence over the marquis — a 
 
 thing she dared not do — to persuade him to give his son Alexander in 
 marriage to Mademoiselle de Tascher, daughter of a M. Tascher de la 
 Pagerie, a very respectable gentleman, who had once resided on the 
 land of Madame de L , and afterwards in Martinique. The Vis- 
 count de Beauharnais declared himself decidedly opposed to the pro- 
 jected union ; but the adroit Madame Renaudin placed before his eyes
 
 44 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 well have wished that this sad rite might have been post- 
 poned indefinitely. " For," said she to the persons who 
 had condescended to protect her, " we are unknown to each 
 other ; we have lived in different countries ; destined, per- 
 haps, never to love each other, we shall live in a manner 
 separate ; the dreams of my sensitive heart will, perhaps, 
 never be in harmony with his ; he will comprehend nothing 
 of its language ; he will have to resort to lying ; dissimula- 
 tion, a dangerous art, will become necessary in his inter- 
 course with the world ; he will conceal from me his 
 thoughts, his desires, his actions ; I shall soon become a 
 stranger to him, and he will be embarrassed when he shall 
 find himself in the painful alternative of breaking his 
 solemn promises or fulfilling them under a perpetual con- 
 straint. Unquiet, he will be unhappy ; and, not knowing 
 how to escape from the labyrinth, he will resolve not to 
 answer my simple questions, which, to him, will seem in- 
 discreet; the resolution which his position will force upon 
 him will lead him to change the part he will act at first, 
 and in his turn to address to me various questions — to give 
 me hardly time to express my thoughts, and, finally, to 
 impute faults to me, in order to make me the dupe of 
 his artifices." The young American already foresaw that 
 she should become an object of calumny, and that those 
 
 the portrait of one of her nieces. He was enchanted with her beauty 
 (it was the picture of Maria) ; and the young man gave some hopes, 
 though care was taken not to deceive him. But when he saw Josephine 
 all illusion vanished. Henceforth he opposed a firm resolution to the 
 schemes which others were nourishing respecting him. For a moment 
 his father encouraged his opposition ; but soon overcome by the ascen- 
 dency of Madame Renaudin, and the counsels of Madame de L , he 
 
 consented that his son, the viscount, should give his hand to the inter- 
 esting Josephine. And, notwithstanding all the son's opposition, he 
 became the nephew of the woman who, in a few years afterwards, was 
 to marry the father.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 45 
 
 persons who censured the feehngs which the viscount enter- 
 tained towards her, would, in the end, interest themselves 
 in sowing the seeds of hatred between a husband naturally- 
 jealous and a woman unjustly accused. She left with 
 regret the spot which had witnessed a single fugitive mo- 
 ment of happiness. From the time of her entrance into 
 the convent at Panthemont she was in a state of depression 
 difficult to describe ; and by a secret instinct she perceived, 
 from the moment that she entered society, that the artful 
 and sly Madame de V- , by interposing an insurmount- 
 able obstacle to her felicity, would play the hypocrite so 
 skilfully as to deprive her of every shadow of hope (9). 
 
 Josephine sometimes received the visits of the viscount 
 at the grate of her window. Without exactly knowing 
 why, she could not avoid feeling a secret agitation when- 
 ever she heard him announced. A presentiment seemed 
 to teach her that the prediction of the black zt/ommi was 
 hastening to its fulfilment. She combated these thoughts ; 
 she shed involuntary tears. The recollection of her 
 parents, and, above all, of William — that William who 
 was never to be hers — filled her imagination with painful 
 forebodings. Madame Renaudin often addressed her re- 
 proachfully about what she called the whimsies of her 
 mind ; while Josephine showed towards her aunt nothing 
 but the innocence, the simplicity, the confidence of a child, 
 and revealed to her all her secrets, the most touching in- 
 cidents of her life, even the attachment she had conceived 
 for the young Creole, William. She told her story with 
 all the enthusiasm with which the thought of William 
 inspired her, and told her aunt how their mothers had 
 reared them together, how they loved their children, and 
 how their children naturally loved each other. 
 
 The aunt spoke to her the language of a friend ; she
 
 46 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sought to make her niece understand that by her cares, 
 and by the will of destiny, she was to reach an elevated 
 rank. " Would that I were again in my beloved island ! " 
 answered Josephine. " I love tranquillity ; I cannot con- 
 ceal from myself that the distractions and the pleasures of 
 society gain by degrees a dominion over the strongest mind, 
 and trouble the wisest head. Ought I not to fear that I, 
 too, carried along by the common whirlwind, may run 
 after the chimeras — baubles of an idle and dissipated life ? 
 Ah, madam, can I remain unconcerned in the midst of 
 imminent and continual dangers ? Alas ! I already fore- 
 see them too plainly ! While reflecting that I am to be 
 united for ever to a man who only marries me by way of 
 yielding to the will of his father, I feel myself on the brink 
 of a volcano or some spot shaken by earthquakes. Still, I 
 see the future before me. May I not hope that chance, 
 that some unforeseen event, may yet render possible what 
 at this time seems impossible ? No, no, I will not give up 
 all for lost ! " 
 
 Madame Renaudin was alarmed at this ; but what 
 could she do ? She resolved to employ the language of 
 reason. "My purpose, Josephine," said she, "is not to 
 delude you by false hopes. The self-love of your parents 
 might have been flattered by the homage which the son 
 of the Marquis de Beauharnais rendered their daughter. 
 Perhaps they might even feel afraid their daughter might 
 escape from the honourable alliance which I have taken 
 so much pleasure in endeavouring to form ; but whatever 
 may be your motives, my young friend, I am incapable 
 of longer dissimulation. I shall send you back to your 
 native country ; you will carry with you my regrets. I 
 flatter myself that, in returning thither from the tender 
 affection which I could not but feel for you, your own
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 47 
 
 heart (as well as mine) will be afflicted ; and I wish that, 
 from to-day, you would cease to recognise any other 
 authority than that of my benevolence. Thus your 
 marriage will be broken off by myself; for the rest, be 
 content with the consequences of your refusal." 
 
 This language made such an impression upon Made- 
 moiselle de Tascher that she retired to her private 
 apartment some time before the brilliant assembly, 
 where she then was, had separated ; for it was on a 
 day when Madame Renaudin had invited many of her 
 friends to her house, and the one on which Josephine 
 came regularly each week to visit her. Josephine found 
 no sleep ; she had not forgotten the wise counsels of 
 her mother ; they were still engraven upon her heart, 
 never to be effaced. But virtue does not interdict a wise 
 liberty. "I will only try," said she to herself, "to 
 postpone the fatal epoch which is to deprive me of 
 mine — that is all I can hope for." 
 
 She wrote her friends a long account of what she 
 was doing, and of the pretended pleasures which were 
 henceforth to occupy her time. She told them that she 
 wished to become better acquainted with the marquis's 
 son. " I wish," said she, " to study his character, to 
 observe his conduct, to judge, in fine, whether the beauty 
 of his mind corresponds with that of his face"(io). 
 
 After the touching scene which I have just described, 
 the conduct of Madame Renaudin towards her niece was 
 perfectly sincere. Anxious to protect her from all re- 
 proaches of her parents, she had informed them of the 
 repugnance which she felt to form a marriage contract 
 at so tender an age. " Expect all from time," said she 
 to her brother. " Josephine, always modest, will enjoy 
 her triumph with calmness ; she will use with modera-
 
 48 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tion her ascendency over me, and only in order to 
 contribute to her repose. She seems even now to be 
 afraid of losing my affections, which a single moment of 
 time has sufficed to win for her. She is correct in not 
 counting upon lasting happiness or a brilliant victory. 
 My self-love, as well as your own, can easily overthrow 
 the transient dominion this young creature has succeeded 
 in establishing over us both ; and when her sixteenth 
 year has passed, I trust a power superior to mine will 
 make a successful attack upon her heart." 
 
 Madame Renaudin, who already read the heart of 
 the young Creole, yielded herself up to the charm, always 
 new to her, of doing good to her niece, and inspiring her 
 with sentiments of gratitude.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 The solitude in which the young American girl was 
 living increased her pangs, rendered her regrets the more 
 bitter, her life more languishing, the loss of her hopes 
 the more distressing, and the necessity of some new 
 encouragement the more urgent. At length she per- 
 ceived the dawn of a new hope, and gave herself up to 
 it with transport. No, she was by no means a senseless 
 being ! 
 
 The Abbess of Panthemont,^ that friend of the afflicted, 
 had sounded the depths of Josephine's heart with a com- 
 passionate and delicate hand. Her heavenly mind, guided 
 by the spirit of charity, was afflicted at her lot. She 
 pitied the young girl, and encourged her to listen to 
 the advice of her friends, repeating to her continually 
 this line from Corneille, " Le devoir d'ltiie JiUc est dans 
 robeissance." 
 
 In order to appreciate the resolution which Josephine 
 then formed, it is necessary to have experienced the 
 storms of the heart, to have felt the dominion of all the 
 affections united in one ; to have been deprived of the 
 object of this one universal sentiment. She made up 
 her mind to declare to Madame Renaudin that she had 
 determined to comply with her wishes, and that soon 
 the Viscount de Beauharnais should be the exclusive 
 possessor of her heart. 
 
 I Her name was Devirieux. The Princess of Conde, at present 
 a religious Carmelite, was then a boarder in this famous monastery. 
 
 VOL, I 4
 
 5© SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Notwithstanding the perfidious insinuations of certain 
 interested personages, who aimed to disturb her repose,^ 
 Josephine, towards the end of her sixteenth year, became 
 the wife of a man who possessed eminent quahties.^ He 
 possessed a noble mind and a feehng heart. She soon 
 became sincerely attached to him, and learned to forget 
 by degrees all the illusions of her childhood. She left 
 him in ignorance of one fatal passion, which might have 
 destroyed his repose, and perhaps his attachment to her. 
 But whilst she concealed from him the fact, she imposed 
 upon herself the duty of acting as if it were known to 
 him. Let the past be buried in eternal oblivion ! — 
 Beauharnais is henceforth everything to Josephine, whose 
 only care must be to please him. 
 
 As has been seen, she yielded to the representations 
 of her friends in giving her hand to the son of her aunt's 
 protector ; the viscount inspired her with respect and 
 confidence, but did not awaken in her the flames of 
 love. Still too young to understand the weight of the 
 chains which marriage imposes, she was not skilful 
 enough to act before her husband the part of a tender 
 wife. 
 
 In a moment of ill-humour she dropped the hint that 
 she should have preferred M. de Beauharnais for hev 
 brother-in-law. "He laughed at me," said Josephine, 
 
 1 A female friend of Madame Renaudin saw fit to whisper to her, 
 that, at the close of a magnificent ball, the viscount had received the 
 picture of a lady whose influence with a minister attached to her a 
 large number of the ladies of the Court. One of Josephine's female 
 friends indiscreetly told her of this. This is a natural explanation 
 of the fears she henceforth entertained respecting her future 
 tranquillity. 
 
 2 This marriage was against the will of Alexander Beauharnais, 
 
 who was then in love with Madame de V , whose maiden name 
 
 was de G . 
 
 I
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 5I 
 
 " but did not the less exert himself to find out the way 
 to my heart." But when at length she had made him 
 a father, her tenderest affections took the place of that 
 cold indifference with which he first inspired her. The 
 viscount was a man of consideration (i i) ; he was a major 
 
 in the regiment ; he solicited the presentation of his 
 
 wife at the Court of Louis XVI. ; it was deferred under 
 various pretexts. Madame de Beauharnais profited by 
 the delay, by improving herself in the arts of pleasing, 
 which as yet she possessed but imperfectly, and applauded 
 herself for the progress she made. Both husband and 
 wife held a highly respectable rank, and were in the 
 habit of receiving visits from the most distinguished 
 persons in Paris. Hence Josephine was in some sort 
 forced to plunge into the whirlpool of society. 
 
 The innocence which she carried with her from the 
 paternal roof ran the greater risks as the circle in which 
 she moved became enlarged. The spectacle of so many 
 new objects, the vivacity of the French people, insensibly 
 made an impression upon her. A fine residence, splendid 
 equipage, a brilliant retinue, and exquisite board, pictures, 
 statues, costly furniture, and the thousand other factitious 
 demands of taste and pleasure, began to seduce her imagi- 
 nation. Still, upon principle, she avoided those tumultuous 
 assemblages where gossip and backbiting are regarded as 
 proofs of wit. The narrow circle of a few persons of 
 understanding more befitted her character. She avoided, 
 as far as depended on her, the rocks of ambition. M. de 
 Beauharnais saw his son growing up under his eyes, and 
 already began to dream of the part he was one day to 
 act in public affairs. 
 
 Scarcely had young Eugene learned to talk, when his 
 father began to flatter himself with the idea of seeing the 
 
 4—2
 
 52 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 favours of the Court heaped upon him. And yet M. de 
 Beauharnais decorated himself with the name oi philosophe ! 
 Such are the astonishing contradictions of the human 
 mind. 
 
 Thus Josephine spent her time, divided between the 
 duties of maternal tenderness and the etiquette imposed 
 upon her by the rank she held in society. 
 
 At length her husband came one day and announced 
 to her with enthusiasm, that the time of her presentation 
 at Court was fixed, but that the Queen had designated 
 an hour for receiving her in her private apartments. 
 He explained to her the importance of this signal 
 favour. 
 
 Although she herself did not partake of his exultation, 
 still, in order to gratify him, she promised to be particu- 
 larly mindful of every observance which this privilege 
 imposed. 
 
 The wife of Louis XVI. had, in some degree, lessened 
 the burden of the Court ceremonies ; but there were some 
 which, from a respect to their antiquity, she had not 
 dared attack ; of this number was the use of the robes 
 a la Frangaise, and the immense cloaks which decorated 
 the ladies of quality. 
 
 Let one picture to himself a young Creole girl, free 
 from the cradle, knowing nothing about fashion, all 
 at once decked out with costly paints and perfumes, 
 which render the skin still more fresh and brilliant, 
 muffled up in heavy and inconvenient clothing, and 
 loaded down with one of those enormous hoops which 
 did not permit the wearer to pass straight through a 
 door. Let him form an idea of the embarrassment of 
 a woman accustomed to let her locks float in long 
 tresses, obliged painfully to sustain the edifice of a tall
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 53 
 
 and heavy head-dress, and he will be able to judge of 
 the situation of her who could not, without great diffi- 
 culty, retain in her memory the voluminous code of 
 Court usages. Happily, on appearing at Versailles, she 
 found herself relieved, by the extreme goodness of the 
 Queen, from this fatiguing ceremonial.^ This gave her 
 courage ; and, no longer doubting her own abilities, she 
 fairly outdid herself, and not only attracted flattering 
 compliments from the ladies of the Court, but the par- 
 ticular regard of the royal family. 
 
 Madame Beauharnais was enchanted with her debut, 
 and her husband received the most flattering compli- 
 ments on the occasion. 
 
 At first, he took it as an augury- favourable to his 
 fortune. Some time afterwards Josephine observed, with 
 a feeling of deep concern, that her husband's humour 
 was becoming reserved and sombre. The viscount finally 
 compelled her to renounce the society of most of her 
 acquaintances, and required her to forbear entirely to 
 return the visits of Madame Renaudin. Josephine knew 
 not to what to attribute this provoking distrust. Did 
 it become him to accuse Madame Renaudin ? 
 
 But although her self-love might have been flattered 
 
 1 Madame de Beauharnais was not presented publicly at the 
 .Court, but was presented twice privately. 
 
 2 Beauharnais was many times honoured with marks of the 
 Queen's particular favour. Maria Antoinette used to call him the 
 hcau danseuy (the fine dancer) of the Court, which name he long re- 
 tained. At the balls which were so frequent at Versailles, Josephine's 
 husband was selected as a partner in the dance by the ladies who 
 were prettiest and most accomplished in that art. His bearing 
 was noble, his attitudes graceful, and the lightness of his step added 
 to the natural graces of his person. He then enjoyed with the fair 
 sex the reputation of being a zephyr in the saloons, and a Bayard 
 at the head of his corps.
 
 54 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 by exercising her pleasing talents in society, yet she 
 preserved a tender attachment to Beauharnais. It is 
 certain that she sometimes thought of WiUiani ; but she 
 avoided every occasion which might furnish reproaches 
 against her on his account. Never did she violate the 
 obligation she had in this respect imposed on herself, and 
 she even consented to forego almost entirely the charming 
 society of Madame the Countess of Montesson (12). 
 
 From the day that Beauharnais announced to his 
 wife that her countryman would probably be presented 
 to her, with his young spouse (they were on their way 
 from England), she confined herself more closely to her 
 apartment, looking after the health of her son, which 
 had given her some uneasiness ; she had the good for- 
 tune to save his life. The viscount was obliged to be 
 often absent on duty, and Josephine embraced the oppor- 
 tunities thus afibrded to finish her course of studies. 
 She was quite fond of reading, and took great delight 
 in perusing the best authors. In this way she perfected 
 her taste, and greatly improved her understanding. 
 
 'Twas thus that she acquired the knowledge which 
 afterwards became so precious to her, and by a skilful use 
 of which she at length almost succeeded in dissipating the 
 coldness which reigned betwixt her and her husband. He 
 permitted her to accompany him to Strasburg, where his 
 regiment was in garrison. The belle Creole could not but 
 charm the society of Strasburg : she became, in fact, a 
 universal favourite there. 
 
 But, after his return to Paris, Beauharnais showed him- 
 self but seldom inside his house, and his humour became 
 soured. The kind of repose which Josephine now enjoyed 
 became an illusion. She was to drain the cup of mis- 
 fortune : such was the decree of destiny !
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 55 
 
 Having, in this interval, given birth to a daughter,^ 
 this happy circumstance enabled her to bear up with 
 courage under the numerous calumnies of which she be- 
 came the object. She was at this time far from being able 
 to penetrate their real causes. She needed a familiar spirit 
 to reveal the secret acts of her husband's private life. Un- 
 happily a malicious spirit constantly beset her. Madame 
 
 de V began by inspiring her with an unwise distrust ; 
 
 then led her to take some hazardous steps ; and cunningly 
 dug beneath her the abyss which was to swallow her up. 
 She was the primary cause of all the evils through which 
 Josephine was doomed to pass (13). 
 
 " You have presumed too much upon your strength : you ought 
 not to have espoused Beauharnais.'' Such was the language of 
 
 the perfidious Madame de V , — of that woman whom 
 
 the viscount had in a manner compelled his wife to receive 
 and regard as her friend — a title which she haughtily 
 assumed. She would insinuate to Josephine that the least 
 resistance to her husband's will, the slightest imprudence, 
 would prove her inevitable ruin. " Promise me," said the 
 artful intriguer, "that you will never utter any complaints 
 to dear Alexander ; do not, without my aid, seek to pierce the 
 darkness which veils his conduct ; keep secret what I am 
 about to tell you ; when the time comes I will explain all ; 
 for the present, be content with knowing that the father of 
 your children is an ingrate, and that he lavishes upon 
 others the tribute of attachment which is alone your due, 
 and of which you daily show yourself so worthy." 
 
 Thus did Madame de V adroitly instil into the 
 
 heart of this unhappy woman the poison of jealousy. She 
 
 I Hortense de Beauharnais was nursed at Chelle, a small town in 
 the Isle of France sur-le-Marne. It contained a monastery before the 
 Revolution.
 
 56 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sought to induce her to take part in her own quarrel with 
 Beauharnais, and to make her partake of all her resentment 
 towards him (14). She saw that Beauharnais neglected his 
 wife, and, adroit politician as she was, she endeavoured to 
 render herself necessary to the viscount. She wanted an 
 opportunity to gain his confidence, and Josephine appeared 
 to be the proper means of enabling her to play her game. 
 Josephine was without the experience necessary to enable 
 
 her to divine her projects ; and Madame de V was not 
 
 slow to select her victim. 
 
 Days passed on, and the heiress of the Tascher family 
 approached that moment when she was to see and feel the 
 reality of that which hitherto she had believed to be an 
 absurd dream. As, to her unsuspecting mind, Madame de 
 
 V seemed all frankness and truth, Josephine was in 
 
 some degree excusable for listening to her perfidious in- 
 sinuations ; which she did, although new grounds of hope 
 and confidence were constantly occurring. But this only 
 made it the worse for Josephine, as her enemy took advan- 
 tage of them to exaggerate all the misdeeds of Alexander 
 towards her. Madame Beauharnais listened with forti- 
 tude to these secret communications. But when, as time 
 elapsed, she began to think them without any foundation, 
 she felt like declaring war upon the woman whom she 
 now suspected to be her rival. When she looked upon the 
 tender fruits of their marriage, she felt that their father 
 deserved all her indulgence. Again, she would hesitate to 
 believe him guilty, she had done so much to merit his 
 attachment. " For him," said she, " have I sacrificed 
 everything, even my friendship for William, while he, my 
 husband, forgets, for the sake of this woman, all the pro- 
 mises he has made me ! " This disregard of his duty made 
 Josephine lament that she had ever married him. The
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 57 
 
 advice of Madame de V had turned her head ; yet she 
 
 made known her grief only in the bosom of her family. 
 
 Some months afterwards the viscount separated from 
 her. Interest, and his fortunes, called him to the Court 
 of Versailles ; the unfortunate Creole abandoned herself 
 to sorrow ; her troubled spirit drank all the poisons of 
 jealousy. 
 
 This fierce passion took full possession of her heart. 
 Unable longer to support this unmerited abandonment, 
 deprived of the last ray of hope, she one day sent him, 
 by a faithful friend, a letter in which she set forth her 
 grounds of complaint, and asked a prompt explanation. 
 The next morning, at break of day, Beauharnais appeared, 
 sombre and severe in his demeanour. He gazed at her 
 for some moments, and addressed her as follows : — 
 
 " The little experience possessed by young ladies of 
 the usages of society and its artifices ; the solitary life 
 they lead ; the reserve which the care of their own repu- 
 tation imposes on them, do not permit them to understand 
 the most important duties of married life. In such cir- 
 cumstances their eyes are very bad judges ; whatever 
 speaks only to the senses is almost always liable to lead 
 us astray. I told you, madam, at the moment of uniting 
 my lot with yours, that, if you felt no inclination for the 
 match which was proposed to you, you would be violating 
 the confidence you owed to your parents not to avow it. 
 Other men will be able to please you ; but I must efface 
 from your heart the slightest traces of love. I admit 
 that they exist ; the will alone does not always suffice 
 to efface them ; time will effect it ; this, I think, I may 
 expect from your reason ; I do not pretend to say from 
 your friendship. If young William was the first to suc- 
 ceed in captivating your heart, he is not the only mortal
 
 58 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who may deserve your affections. Your choice need not 
 be confined to such narrow limits, and you ought to 
 cast your eyes upon an object more worthy of your 
 attachment than I. 
 
 " Such, madam, was the language I held to you in 
 the presence of my father some days before our marriage. 
 You now see how dangerous it was for you to conceal 
 from me that lurking passion, and what just grounds your 
 parents had for opposing the imprudent steps which might 
 have augmented it. The vicinity of your habitations, the 
 ancient friendship of your families, afforded you oppor- 
 tunities to spend together the days of your childhood ; 
 in your innocent sports you called each other 'husband' 
 and ' wife ' ; years only serve to increase that sympathy. 
 I have expressly prohibited him from entering my house ; 
 this act will only serve to increase his passion for you, 
 and, perhaps, even yours for him." 
 
 " You have broken my heart with your odious sus- 
 picions," cried Josephine, with impetuosity ; " they are 
 absolutely imaginary. But you, sir, have you nothing to 
 reproach yourself with in regard to me ? " 
 
 " What," replied he, with emphasis, " what means 
 that letter which you addressed to your parents, wherein 
 you passed in minute review what you were pleased to 
 call my faults ? Why accuse them of still adding to your 
 woes, by uniting you to me ? Of what do you complain ? 
 I am only making reprisals. Is it not permitted me to 
 present to another the homage of a heart which you seem 
 to disdain ? In that letter you say : ' But for my children 
 I should, without a pang, renounce France for ever. My 
 
 duty requires me to forget \\'illiam de K ; and yet, 
 
 if we were united together, I should not to-day he troubling you 
 ivith my griefs.' Is this, madam, the language of an inno- 
 cent woman ? Ah ! I should never have imagined that
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 59 
 
 the heart of my wife could have given admittance to the 
 dangerous passion of jealousy ! Still further, I will believe 
 that her virtue will make her resist and overcome an 
 inclination so much opposed to our peace. I do, I con- 
 fess, experience chagrin, which will end only with my 
 life." 
 
 Josephine's feelings were most deeply wounded. Over- 
 whelmed by these declarations, she knew not whether she 
 was lost amidst the wild mazes of a dream, or whether 
 her eyes w^ere gazing upon the earliest rays of the sun. 
 These reproaches produced upon her an impression difficult 
 to be described ; she was terrified at her situation ; she 
 foresaw nothing but trouble and pain. Trembling, and 
 afraid to speak, she said to the viscount, with that accent 
 which belongs only to innocence : " I have not, then, 
 reached the goal of my misfortunes ? A new and more 
 terrible one has befallen me ; the father of my Eugene, 
 of my Hortense, dares to suspect me. Oh, I shudder at 
 the thought ! Can you believe, Alexander, that another 
 can efface from my heart the affections which wholly belong 
 to you ? The fate that awaits me is, I see plainly, the 
 fruit of infamous treachery. A woman who calls herself 
 my friend and yours, has inspired me with some suspicions 
 against you, which are perhaps unjust. Unhappily, I laid 
 open before her the most secret workings of my heart. If, 
 
 at any time, the name of the son of M. de K has 
 
 escaped me, that woman, at least, ought not to sharpen 
 against me the weapons of calumny. Vou are well aware 
 that I have preserved for that friend of my childhood a 
 kindly recollection ; but never, I here dare affirm, never, 
 since our union, has it weighed a feather against the sincere 
 attachment which my heart bears towards you. I have 
 not had the least correspondence with him, nor any inter- 
 view since my arrival in France. Vou have no need to
 
 60 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 place injurious restrictions upon me ; your distrust, your 
 suspicions — all such subterfuges are, I insist, unworthy of 
 M. de Beauharnais. I cannot but regard with sovereign 
 
 contempt this Madame de V , who, after urging me to 
 
 write that letter to my father, was infamous enough to send 
 it to you. Perfectly at peace with my conscience, I have 
 refused to follow her further advice to write to William de 
 
 K himself — to that young man whose name alone 
 
 serves you as a pretext to aggravate my misfortunes 1 " 
 To a feeling of terror instantly succeeded one of melting 
 tenderness, which she was unable to control ; and, rushing 
 towards him, she burst into tears, and exclaimed : " Be 
 assured that time will unveil to you all that this impene- 
 trable mystery now conceals." She swooned. Her husband, 
 really moved, repeated, in an accent of grief: 
 
 " Rise, rise, my dear Josephine ; I am sensible of all 
 your afflictions, and sincerely pity you ! " 
 
 The pretty Creole, with eyes filled with tears, looked 
 upon him, extended her hand, and pardoned him. 
 
 "Alas!" cried the viscount, "how little are you able 
 to read what passes in my heart, and the feelings which my 
 silence must express ! " 
 
 He then called her women, and entrusted her to their 
 care. Overcome by these heartrending emotions, Josephine 
 remained for some days a prey to the most poignant grief, 
 and was attacked by a serious malady, which occasioned 
 apprehensions for her life. It was some time before her 
 health was re-established ; but at length the scrupulous 
 care of her friends and the youthful vigour of her consti- 
 tution saved her. Her ardent imagination flattered her 
 with the idea that her husband would again yield her his 
 confidence. But in this she was destined soon to be 
 undeceived. Alas ! 
 
 " D'un sexe infortune, les armes sont les pleurs." 
 
 i
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 6l 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 How painful is a state of expectation ! and, unhappily, 
 expectation is inevitable. Who can escape from it ? He 
 would, indeed, be a perfectly happy being. 
 
 Such were the reflections natural to a mother, who, 
 long alone and disconsolate with her children, was guiding 
 their early footsteps. They had now learned to pronounce 
 that cherished name with a voice so sweet, that maternal 
 love knew no bliss like hearing it repeated. Already did 
 she see upon the lips of Hortense that bewitching smile 
 which often recalled the memory of a perjured spouse and 
 his noble features ; but, alas ! all her other thoughts and 
 feelings turned upon herself, mixed with the bitterest 
 sorrows and the most harassing apprehensions. 
 
 The arts might have afforded her consolation, but 
 the sight of the most beautiful specimens, far from 
 diverting her thoughts, only served to replunge her into 
 profound melancholy. Vainly did she seek to charm her 
 leisure hours and lighten the weight of her griefs ; her 
 mind was so oppressed that she more than ever confined 
 herself to her apartments.^ 
 
 Besides, the proceedings of her husband were little 
 calculated to comfort her, and each passing moment only 
 added to her troubles. 
 
 I M. de Beauharnais had a country house at Croisy. He, as well 
 as his wife, was closely related to Madame Hostein, whose estate lay 
 near to theirs. The children of this lady, and those of M. de Beau- 
 harnais, were brought up together.
 
 62 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 She was deprived of her son, who was placed at a 
 private boarding-house. She felt the loss of Eugene the 
 more because his age still required her maternal cares. 
 For some weeks she was inconsolable. The dwelling she 
 lived in became more and more wearisome to her.^ The 
 viscount rarely showed himself at her house. She ad- 
 dressed him some touching reproofs: "Unhappy beings," 
 said she, pressing her children to her bosom; "poor 
 victims ! through what troubles have you come into the 
 world. Alas ! why were you born ? " 
 
 Learning from Madame Renaudin that it was the 
 purpose of the marquis's son to place an eternal barrier 
 between him and her, she besought him to spare her 
 this last humiliation. " I could," she wrote to him, 
 " have desired, for the honour of M. de Beauharnais, 
 that he should have contented himself with a voluntary 
 separation ; for he ought to feel a repugnance at making 
 the tribunals ring with his complaints. She who has 
 stolen away the heart of my husband, and his esteem for 
 me, is unworthy of him ; that woman is known by her 
 coquetry and her numerous adventures." But nothing is 
 weaker than a jealous man ; he answered her in a tone 
 of angry severity. The afflicted woman thought it her 
 duty to go and relate her troubles to ^ladame Montesson, 
 hoping that she would deign to employ all the means in 
 her power to open the eyes of the man whom she had 
 never ceased to esteem, and to make him see plainly the 
 consequences of the publicity which he contemplated, and 
 to divert him from his strange resolution. 
 
 I Josephine had, so to speak, sequestered herself from the world, 
 in order to devote herself entirely to the cares demanded by her 
 two infants. At Croisy she lived quite retired, receiving no visits 
 except from persons whom she could not refuse to see.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 63 
 
 But here again the unfortunate Josephine was mis- 
 taken. Absorbed for a time in sad thought, she dreamed 
 of the days of her past feUcity ; they had passed away 
 swiftly ; and she now chose the monastery of Panthe- 
 mont, where she shut herself up with all her sorrows. 
 Condemned to endure a long solitude, she found her 
 only consolation in looking upon her daughter. She alone 
 remained to soothe and solace her woes. 
 
 The perpetual silence which reigned around her ; the 
 hours which rolled away with fatiguing heaviness ; every- 
 thing concurred to make her look upon life under a gloomy 
 aspect, which seemed fast approaching its close. In this 
 solemn abode, even the trees, as old as the world, seemed 
 formed to banish all gaiety. Their thick foliage served 
 as an asylum for those birds to which the daylight is 
 irksome, and whose piercing cries were a terror to the 
 timid soul of Josephine. " Here," said she, " I listen only 
 to the singing of the ' bird of death ' ; everything warns 
 me that this place will probably be my tomb." Her 
 customary reading served only to nourish her sombre 
 melancholy. 
 
 Young's " Night Thoughts " became her familiar study, 
 and gave her a taste for the philosophic dreams of Her\ey. 
 She regarded the latter's "Meditations" as sublime and 
 profound teachings. She turned her thoughts upon the 
 immensity of the Creator's works, the abyss of nothing- 
 ness, and an eternity of happiness. 
 
 Fatigued, borne down by these despairing thoughts, 
 a iitful slumber would for a moment close her eyelids ; 
 then, throngs of frightful dreams arose to torment her. 
 But the habits of her mind always brought her back to 
 her primitive character ; by nature gladsome and lively, 
 she could not help remarking the strange contrast between
 
 64 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 this oriental pomp which she witnessed, and the simpUcity 
 of true rehgion. The lady abbess frequently laid upon 
 her a fatiguing burden of observances ; but even after 
 listening to that daughter of centuries, who, by means 
 of such observances, governed the convent, the light- 
 hearted American could not help often infringing the 
 ancient regulations. In fact, it was impossible for her 
 to subject herself to the futile ceremonies which filled 
 up every minute of the day. 
 
 But the expense which she was occasioning, in some 
 degree, soothed her for the loss of her liberty.^ With the 
 exception of some female friends who kindly remembered 
 her, she might have supposed herself abandoned by the 
 whole world. 
 
 There happened, in a convent near to that of Panthe- 
 mont,^ an event which, for some brief moments, relieved 
 her sadness, and afforded amusement by its singularity. 
 
 One of her windows looked out upon a little court 
 belonging to the house of the nuns of Belle Chasse. 
 Josephine had noticed that each evening, at the hour 
 the osprey ceased its frightful cry, the silvery rays of 
 the moon, as they fell upon her couch of sorrow, revealed 
 a silent and touching scene. Everything, even the zephyr, 
 was still ; all was peaceful, and seemed to resemble the 
 sleep of her angelic child, whose breathing was scarcely 
 audible. Josephine had descried one of the discreet 
 mothers, who seemed to take especial care to avoid 
 being seen while she introduced herself into this same 
 enclosure. 
 
 1 Madame de Beauharnais shut herself up voluntarily at Panthe- 
 mont, and did not leave it till after she had defeated her husband 
 in his suit for a divorce. 
 
 2 An enclosure wall separated this abbey from the convent of 
 the Carmelites, and from that of the sisters of Belle Chasse.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 65 
 
 She usually carried in her hand a lantern, which she 
 would set down upon the ground with great caution, and 
 then, seizing a bunch of keys which she took from a 
 basket, turn upon its hinges a heavy door with brass 
 trimmings, which, when opened, revealed to the view a 
 species of phantom. This apparition moved about slowly, 
 frequently stopping in front of one of the walls less 
 elevated than the rest. 
 
 Scarcely could Josephine see her move ; but she heard 
 some animated words ringing through the gloom. The 
 religious dame again locked up her prisoner, whose features 
 and stature it was impossible to ascertain. 
 
 Afterwards the woman visited her again through the 
 same door, but how she got into the enclosure Josephine 
 could not discover. But she resolved to unravel this 
 mystery, which, she presumed, concealed some work of 
 iniquity. " Still another victim of conjugal despotism," 
 said she, not doubting that this woman was confined by 
 virtue of some imperative mandate. The next morning 
 she went in person to make an examination, and found 
 that this gloomy passage-way led to the burying-ground 
 of the sisters of Belle Chasse. She communicated her dis- 
 coveries to Mesdames de • and de C , who were in 
 
 the ihabit of coming and spending a few minutes with her 
 every day. Both these ladies being related by blood to 
 
 the lady superior of the sisters of , promised to use 
 
 all their efforts to get from her this secret. They agreed 
 to play a trick upon her, and pretend that they had had 
 a strange dream, changing the locality and the description 
 of the persons that were to figure in it. Having perfected 
 their plan, they hastened to put it in execution. 
 
 While listening to the account they gave of their pre- 
 tended dream, Sister Rosaure seemed overcome by emotion, 
 
 VOL. I 5
 
 66 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and wiped the tears from her eyes. They could only 
 express vague hints. But they could not doubt that the 
 imprisonment of this hapless victim was entirely arbitrary, 
 and consequently omitted nothing for the accomplishment 
 of their object. They succeeded, and in the course of a 
 few days arrived at the most precise and extraordinary 
 developments. 
 
 For four years an interesting novice had, so to speak, 
 found herself forced to renounce the world. On the day of 
 the august ceremony. Sister Irene mournfully ascended the 
 steps of the altar. Scarcely had she pronounced her 
 solemn vows when a sudden darkness came over her eyes, 
 and she fell down senseless. Her body was immediately 
 removed out of sight, and the next day the report was 
 circulated that she was dead. Her funeral obsequies were 
 performed in secret, and without any of the accustomed 
 display. The body was not even exhibited in public (15). 
 This circumstance excited murmurs, but the lady abbess 
 excused it for pretended reasons of a private nature, and 
 henceforth the inmates avoided speaking of it ; indeed, it 
 was forbidden even to pronounce her name. It seemed, 
 therefore, probable that the unfortunate creature was still in 
 existence. But how to raise the curtain that concealed her 
 fate, and rescue her from her living tomb, was the question. 
 Alas ! there was no apparent pathway to the place of her 
 retreat. What hope was there of approaching her and 
 surprising her watchful guardian ? The nuns of Belle 
 Chasse used to assemble at night. While they were sing- 
 ing psalms, chanting and thanking God for having taken 
 them under the shadow of His wing, far from a stormy 
 world, a young devotee, in the same sanctuary and close 
 by their side, was groaning amidst the horrors they had 
 inflicted.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 67 
 
 The victim of monkish fanaticism could only address 
 sighs and groans to the God of mercy and peace. At dawn 
 the solemn chants would cease, the lights were extin- 
 guished, the sounding vaults no longer echoed the melan- 
 choly accents which only impressed with deeper sadness 
 the heart of the youthful sufferer. Madame Beauharnais 
 seemed to see her kneeling on the cold marble before her 
 rude altar, covered with a straw mat, time-worn and rotten 
 with humidity, with a worm-eaten desk before her, and a 
 book of canticles ready to fall to pieces. 
 
 The darkness of the holy place, the monuments of the 
 dead which covered the graves, and which would almost be 
 taken for ghosts, all conspired to augment the terror which 
 seized her imagination. She seemed to hear the last stave 
 which usually terminates the matin songs — ^^Donaeis pacem" 
 — repeated over her head. 
 
 Josephine and her companions awaited impatiently the 
 return of the moon, resolved, by its rays, to find their way 
 into the narrow enclosure where the sorrowing victim was 
 confined. How slowly for them did Time stretch his wings! 
 How tumultuous were their thoughts ! They yearned, 
 though still afraid, to witness the truth. 
 
 But now the hour of night insensibly drew near. Con- 
 cealed behind a leafy hedge, they easily passed into the 
 garden, and then, by means of a ladder, which they had 
 carefully provided, into the inner court. 
 
 Afraid, and scarcely daring to breathe, for a moment 
 they remained still in this gloomy place. They had been 
 long accustomed to the lugubrious sights presented by the 
 places consecrated to eternal retirement. 
 
 They pierced their way into an enclosure where 
 everything bore an impress of gloom ; where dark de- 
 spair seemed to hold perpetual empire. 
 
 5—2
 
 58 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Suddenly groans, interrupted by sobs, roused their 
 
 attention ; the Marchioness of C was frightened, and 
 
 screamed out, when an object presented itself before them, 
 which at first they took for a spirit. 
 
 It was the unhappy prisoner. On seeing them she 
 attempted to fly, but her feeble knees failed her, and she 
 sank prostrate on the ground. Though the rays of the 
 moon fell directly upon her, its uncertain light scarcely 
 enabled the beholders to determine whether it was really 
 a human being. 
 
 They were also afraid lest her unpitying, Argus-eyed 
 guardian might present herself before they were able to dis- 
 cover her age or the cause of her detention. After putting 
 to her some questions, the fugitives from Panthemont re- 
 solved to leave, when, with difficulty raising herself up, the 
 unhappy creature half uttered a few words which showed 
 how horror-stricken she was at their unexpected visit. 
 They reassured her, and, entirely to dissipate her fears, the 
 viscount's wife called herself by name. The nun then took 
 confidence, and, with a trembling and almost inaudible 
 voice, addressed them as follows : — 
 
 " I was destined to the cloister from my youth ; nothing 
 could change the determination of my parents. Not being 
 the arbiter of my own destiny, I had to cover my brow 
 with the eternal veil, in this monastery. I am now twenty- 
 two years old, and I pray the merciful God to put an end 
 to my wretched existence. You see me a young and 
 innocent victim — ^you see me prostrated at the foot of 
 our Saviour's image. Ah, how unjust, how cruel were 
 my parents to me ! Religion alone has given me courage 
 to abide their monstrous inhumanity. It is true, mesdames 
 (continued she), I manifested so much disgust for the kind 
 of life I had been forced to lead, that I completely alienated 
 the affections of my new companions. A letter which was 
 
 I
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 69 
 
 addressed to me, but which was unluckily intercepted, 
 served as a pretext for erasing my name for ever from the 
 list of the living. I had been promised from my cradle 
 
 to the only son of the Count of (i6). Alas, alas! 
 
 at the age of twelve I lost my best friend. My father im- 
 mediately contracted a second marriage, and three years 
 after a son was born to crown his desires, and hasten 
 my misfortunes. I was henceforth devoted to religious 
 retirement, because I had nothing to hope for from my 
 mother's fortune, whom my father had married dowerless, 
 and from inclination. Her successor, who brought him 
 considerable property, soon became the absolute mistress 
 of his thoughts and actions. She was the chief, or rather 
 sole, cause of my ruin, in wringing from my father the 
 fatal assent which banished me for ever from the bosom 
 of society. This cruel woman pushed her insolence so 
 far as to appear at the grate of the august temple the 
 day I took my vows, in order the more completely to 
 enjoy her triumph. The very sight of that barbarous 
 step-mother produced such a dreadful impression on me 
 that I was bereft of my reason. 
 
 "When the pall was removed from me, I gave no sign 
 of life. I had fallen into a kind of lethargy ; I could not 
 open my eyes to the light, although I heard all that 
 passed around me. In this insensible state I was carried 
 out of the church. 
 
 " In vain did the attendants lavish their cai-es upon 
 me ; I could not be recalled to a state of feeling. As 
 bad luck would have it, the nuns, in stripping me of my 
 monastic robes, found upon my person a protestation 
 against the vows I had taken, written wholly with my own 
 hand ; they secured it, and the paper itself became a 
 fearful instrument in the hands of my enemies. 
 
 " In the evening I recovered my reason ; but they were
 
 70 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 correct in their opinion that I should make a nun without 
 fervour, and that, sooner or later, I should seek to free 
 myself from the austere yoke. Already the Government 
 entertained the purpose of suppressing certain monas- 
 teries. It was decided in the chapter that the answer 
 to be returned at the grate should be that I had fallen 
 a victim to mental alienation ; my family were told so, 
 and my worthy father deigned to accord me some tears. 
 I was then thrown into this solitary building, separated 
 from the rest of the house, where each day one of the 
 sisters is charged to convey me my food. True, although 
 in the bosom of bondage, my primary wants are supplied ; 
 I have the same clothing, the same food as the other nuns ; 
 my narrow abode contains the first objects necessary to 
 existence — but I am for ever deprived of all society with 
 my fellows. Were I not supported by a sense of religious 
 duty, I should long ago have sunk under the weight of 
 my ills. Vainly do I combat the emotions of my heart — 
 I find it impossible to conquer them. Wretched maiden 
 that I am ! the sacred earth on which I tread has become 
 my only hope." And at these words she fell down in 
 a swoon, the forerunner of death, firmly laying hold of 
 a stone crucifix which stood in her gloomy dwelling- 
 place. 
 
 This scene recalled to Josephine's mind the touching La 
 Valliere, who was found nearly in the same situation. The 
 one sought to fly from a monarch whom she adored, and to 
 bury herself in a nunnery ; the other, in the spring-time of 
 life, had felt her heart palpitate at the name of a mortal 
 who was once destined for her. The poor nun uttered 
 an ardent prayer again to join her mother. — " 'Tis this 
 way," said she, heaving a deep sigh, " 'tis there that the 
 road to eternity and salvation opens to my view ! Already
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 7I 
 
 I feel myself pierced by the arrows of death ; soon shall I 
 bow my head, and fall to earth like the lily of the valley ; 
 but celestial hope consoles me, and points me to heaven and 
 to that blessed Saviour who offers me the pardon and con- 
 solation which mortals deny me. My spirit, a captive in 
 Ihis body which wanders on the earth, yearns to be united 
 to the Holy Spirit which created it. Oh, how precious a 
 gift of God is eternal night ! " 
 
 Thus spoke the nun, while tears of anguish streamed 
 from her eyes. Who could paint her wild despair, the 
 cruel pangs which rent her heart ? But soon a sweet and 
 pious resignation took possession of her ; her lips pro- 
 nounced no name but that of her Creator. Josephine and 
 her friends mingled their prayers with hers ; they entreated 
 Heaven to put an end to her miseries ; they encouraged her 
 to hope for a happier lot in future ; but being without 
 any confidence, she again wept, and concluded in these 
 words : — 
 
 " To me the most painful restraint is the being obliged 
 to conceal my feelings in the presence of the lady superior. 
 Pity is here a crime, and each moment thus becomes to me 
 an intolerable punishment. My health, already impaired 
 by protracted sufferings, is gradually failing. At the end of 
 one year you will, perhaps, find me dying. I shall carry 
 into the grave a body as pure and stainless as it was in my 
 infancy. Yet I cannot deposit my painful secrets in the 
 bosom of any kind and compassionate friend. My desire is 
 that my father, and also Madame the Countess of Mon- 
 tesson, may be informed that I am still alive." 
 
 At the mention of the name of her illustrious protec- 
 tress, Madame Beauharnais experienced a sensation difficult 
 to describe ; her marble brow was resting prostrate on the 
 cold and humid earth ; a sense of her own trials and mis-
 
 72 SECRET MEMOIRS OF ^ 
 
 fortunes awoke ; it wrung her heart ; and her present 
 situation, so different from what it had once been, now 
 stared her mournfully in the face. 
 
 Still, she hoped that a purer and brighter day might 
 dawn upon her. Indeed, she had already begun to descry 
 for herself a more happy future, while the hapless daughter 
 
 of the Count de could see hers only in eternity. 
 
 While their conversation continued, they discovered in the 
 distance the pale flickering of a lantern slowly approaching 
 them. 
 
 " 'Tis my guardian," said the nun; "she is not un- 
 feeling; she seeks to soften the rigorous service required of 
 her in respect to me; she anticipates my wants; I should 
 be no longer alive but for her humanity. Retire a little ; 
 I am unwilling her sensitive soul should learn that her 
 noble devotion is known to you ; she might, perhaps, sus- 
 pect the secret of her conduct was divulged. 'Tis to her 
 that I am indebted for the shadow of freedom I have thus 
 far enjoyed; the community rely upon her prudence and 
 discretion." 
 
 The cold and serious manner in which she pronounced 
 these words lent them additional bitterness. She gave them 
 not the least accent ; they resembled neither a demand nor 
 an exclamation, expressed neither curiosity nor surprise : 
 her heart found no utterance in those monotonous tones. 
 In a few moments her looks became as dull and vacant as 
 ever. Josephine and her two friends could not resist the 
 touching spectacle. They burst into tears, and, in com- 
 pliance with her request, promised her to write the details 
 of her sad history. Madame de Beauharnais undertook to 
 bring her sufferings to a close. She contrived to hold a 
 correspondence with her during the latter part of her stay 
 at Panthemont.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 73 
 
 She interested several influential persons in her behalf, 
 and among them the Archbishop of Paris. When that 
 prelate demanded the opening of the cloister doors of the 
 convent of Belle Chasse, he was told that the sparks of life 
 
 were nearly extinct in Mademoiselle St. CI , and that she 
 
 would probably soon breathe her last. "Happy will it be," 
 said one of the elder sisters, " when we can say of that 
 sister, ' She is now in the bosom of the Divinity / ' " At these 
 words, a holy anger flashed from the eyes of the venerable 
 archbishop. Too indignant to pardon the authors of an 
 outrage which he could not overlook, he exclaimed, casting 
 on them an expressive glance: — 
 
 "Alas! another victim sacrificed to error and ambition. 
 She perhaps opposed some resistance to the sacrifice of 
 herself, and that was enough to make her the object of 
 your persecution. 
 
 " Unfeeling and cruel women," added he ; "I have 
 kept my mouth shut until to-day. / have been silent; 
 but now I shall make myself heard. '"^ 
 
 Several months had passed since Madame de Beau- 
 harnais had lived entirely secluded from the world. The 
 sad, heart-stricken Josephine knew no other joy than 
 that of gazing upon her beloved daughter. 
 
 The young Hortense, sensible of the tender cares of 
 her mother, returned with usury the caresses she re- 
 ceived. Seeking to please and to love her tender parent, 
 filial gratitude was the sole sentiment by which she was 
 animated. This afflicted wife, now an interesting recluse, 
 daily received the most gratifying news from her friends ; 
 she was about to revisit them, and to gain the suit which 
 
 I Afterwards, and some time before the Revolution, the question 
 of secularising this religious order was seriously discussed in the 
 Council of State, and even at the Court of Rome.
 
 74 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 her husband had so unjustly instituted against her (17). 
 All her thoughts were centred upon her anticipated triumph. 
 While awaiting it, she consecrated a part of her time 
 to the study of the history of nations, and the investiga- 
 tion of the leading causes of their grandeur. She noticed 
 that circumstances the minutest in appearance had often 
 led to the destruction of empires and the elevation of kings. 
 This fact struck her so forcibly that she resolved hence- 
 forth to direct every action of her life towards the accom- 
 plishment of her destiny.^ 
 
 I Woman has more wit, as well as sagacity, than man ; a seden- 
 tary life affords her a continual opportunity for their display, and 
 she sharpens her talents by bringing them in contact with his thoughts.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 75 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 At length Josephine meets her children, and is happy. 
 Drunk with bliss, she exclaimed: "O liberty! I feel that 
 thou art not a chimera, and that man, escaping from the 
 darkness of a prison can alone render thee fitting homage." 
 
 However natural were the feelings which then agitated 
 her, she perceived that reflection was fast weakening the 
 charm. After the first gust of enthusiastic exultation at 
 seeing herself so strikingly avenged had subsided, she 
 began to reflect upon her forlorn situation. The decree 
 of the Parliament of Paris was entirely favourable to her, 
 and made her absolutely free ; but M. de Beauharnais 
 was lost for her. 
 
 [Here end the events which I presume to be contained 
 in the manuscripts which are wanting. I lay aside the 
 pen in order to place before the reader the Memoirs 
 forming the sequel to those which I have supplied.^] 
 
 The advice I received from time to time from M. de 
 Tascher was to return to Martinique. He wrote that 
 
 I The remainder of the work, until near the close of her life, in 
 1814, appears to be the production of Josephine herself. In her 
 dedication to the Emperor Alexander, our authoress assures us that 
 " these Secret Memoirs were, in a great measure, prepared by the 
 Empress herself, and that was the reason which led her to place them 
 under his special protection ; " and in her preface she remarks that 
 the illustrious subject of her pages, "during her leisure moments at 
 Malmaison, used to narrate the different events of her life ; she pre- 
 served the most secret particulars of her husband's reign, and destined 
 these precious manuscripts to posterity." — Translator.
 
 76 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the charms of tranquillity are never so highly relished 
 as when one has been tossed by the storms of adversity. 
 I received many visits from my friends, and hastened 
 to return them. Some listened attentively to my most 
 trifling remarks, and seemed to watch me, while others, 
 indulging in indiscreet questions, pretended to congratu- 
 late me on what they called my triumph. I distinguished 
 among them several who were my true friends, and 
 passed some moments of real quietude in their society. 
 And yet I felt that I had lost that peace of mind with- 
 out which happiness is impossible. I no longer saw my 
 husband, and an habitual gloom took possession of me. 
 
 Continued sorrow had wrought a change in my 
 countenance and in my mental faculties ; I regarded 
 myself as an unfortunate woman, and, without the 
 society of my children, who both aided me to support 
 existence, I should infallibly have sunk under the weight 
 of my melancholy. This state of mind made me love 
 solitude ; my friends addressed to me some obliging 
 reproofs for thus sequestering myself from the world. 
 " If," said they, " the study of the human heart is an 
 affliction to him who pursues it, we are yet bound to 
 interrogate its most hidden mysteries." 
 
 One day my friends had, so to speak, dragged me 
 against my will to Versailles, where I appeared but 
 rarely. I spent some hours in examining the two 
 Trianons.^ The smaller attracted, particularly, throngs 
 
 I Trianons. — This is the name of two beautiful country seats 
 near Versailles. Passing along the promenade of the garden of 
 Versailles, you arrive at the " Grand Trianon." The celebrated 
 Mansard constructed this chateau in the oriental style. The facade 
 is but one story high, but the richness and variety of the marble 
 composing it render it beautiful : the garden was planned by Lenobre. 
 
 At the end of the park is situated the " Petit Trianon." Its
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 77 
 
 of the curious. The embelHshments executed by the 
 orders of the Queen lent an inexpressible charm to 
 those enchanting spots. I felt a curiosity to see the 
 delicious abode where the wife of Louis XVI, delighted 
 to lay aside the severe etiquette of the palace. Here the 
 daughter of the Caesars used to repair and resign her- 
 self to meditation, and taste in peace the sweets of an 
 innocent liberty. 
 
 Maria Antoinette was then what she never ceased 
 to be — good, compassionate, amiable. Quitting her high 
 rank and the pomp of the throne, she here seemed to 
 descend and listen to the complaints of her people ; and 
 often did she pass out of this terrestrial paradise to gaze 
 on the clear, pure country sky. Often was she seen 
 wandering among those delicious groves, so dense that 
 the light of day scarcely penetrated them ; hiding herself 
 from that throng of gilded insects that pullulated at her 
 Court, and giving herself up to the society of such 
 persons as could participate in her simple and rustic 
 tastes. 
 
 In thus throwing aside the state and splendour of 
 royalty, Maria Antoinette only appeared the more 
 beautiful — she might have been taken for the Queen 
 of the Graces. 
 
 How beautiful was she then, when all the feelings 
 
 picturesque garden, arranged in English style, and its magnificent 
 pavilion, constructed in the Roman style, were the favourite resorts 
 of Maria Antoinette. During the Reign of Terror, it was nearly 
 demolished by the fury of the populace. A common public table 
 was furnished in the same apartments where the descendant of 
 Maria Theresa used to lay aside the burdens of royalty and enjoy 
 the charms of a country life. Napoleon reunited this elegant estate 
 to the imperial domains. The Princess Pauline Borghese, the 
 Emperor's sister, used to reside there. — Translator.
 
 78 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of an ardent heart were reflected from her august 
 countenance ? 
 
 The impression I experienced on entering, for the 
 first time, the Queen's apartments, it would be difficult 
 to describe. A melancholy thought seized me, which 
 I could neither repe) nor explain — a secret and undefined 
 fear seemed to whisper to me that the sovereign of this 
 charming retreat would soon cease to be such. Every- 
 thing presaged, even now, the series of woes with which 
 that celestial woman was to be overwhelmed, and the 
 strokes of that execrable calumny of which she was to 
 become the victim. The affair of Cardinal Rohan had 
 already shown to what excess this sort of licence could 
 be carried, if unchecked at its birth (18). 
 
 From that moment the sincere friends of the monarchy 
 should have foreseen that the schemers would not pause 
 in their career. A multitude of apocryphal pamphlets 
 daily inundated Paris and Versailles, propagating the 
 most absurd and false reports. The enemies of the 
 wife of Louis XVI. represented her as a second Medicis. 
 In their rage they dared to make her the object of the 
 most unjust and cruel charges. They even endeavoured 
 to cast a stain upon her chastity. The public, greedy 
 for news, never gave themselves the trouble to examine 
 the source whence these stories proceeded. They always 
 receive more readily tales of contempt and insult than 
 those which express the homage due to virtue, or the 
 love and respect of the people for their legitimate princes. 
 Besides, the French rarely take pains to reflect upon the 
 impressions made upon them by envenomed writings or 
 speeches ; but suffer themselves to be seduced and blinded 
 by the recital of unfaithful, piquant and scandalous anec- 
 dotes, especially where important personages are the object.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 79 
 
 The royal majesty thus vilified, everything announced 
 the approach of that tempest which was destined to over- 
 throw the throne and the monarch. The Queen was, 
 perhaps, the only one who did not partake of that feeling 
 of security to which the whole Court surrendered itself. 
 Incessantly a prey to gloomy forebodings, she found in 
 the retreats of the Trianons a kind of solace for her woes.^ 
 This Princess, a worthy daughter of Maria Theresa, 
 derived from the teachings of her illustrious mother that 
 courage so superior to all vicissitudes, which enabled her 
 to oppose a manly and truly heroic resistance to the 
 plotters of the ruin and overthrow of states. 
 
 Such were my thoughts while wandering through 
 those modern " Gardens of Alcinous," where art seemed 
 combined with nature to increase its charms. I con- 
 templated with admiration every object that presented 
 itself to my enchanted gaze. As I was infinitely fond 
 of botany, I took pleasure in examining every description 
 of plant I met with. I roved along the alleys where the 
 majestic trees, with polished bark and evergreen foliage, 
 sprang up and seemed to pierce the skies. To rest our- 
 selves we entered one of the mansions which the company 
 had been admiring. Our guide was engaged in giving 
 us ,some interesting historical details (ig) connected with 
 it, when our attention was attracted by the confused cries 
 of numerous voices which seemed to be approaching. Our 
 surprise was increased on seeing the Queen herself coming, 
 
 I " Notre cour nous suit, 
 Et tout nous fuit ; " 
 
 " I well know I am traduced," said the Queen, often, to the 
 unfortunate Louis XVI. " I see the courtiers' smile ; it conceals 
 perfidious falsehood ; it is the moral stiletto. The cowards who 
 use it inflict a wound, and then turn and fly. The cold looks of 
 the most of them annoy and disgust me."
 
 8o SECRET MEMOIRS OF ; 
 
 surrounded by her whole Court. She advanced towards 
 us, and, without any appearance of surprise at seeing 
 strangers in the place, saluted us with that grace which 
 was so natural to her. I was encouraged by the sweet 
 accents of her voice and the language she deigned to 
 address to me. Her Majesty was pleased to say, with 
 an air of condescension : " Madame de Beauharnais, you 
 are at liberty to view the two Trianons ; I am perfectly 
 aware you know how to appreciate their beauties. I 
 should be much pleased to learn what objects you think 
 the most remarkable, and to hear your personal obser- 
 vations upon them. I shall always receive you with 
 pleasure" (20). 
 
 I answered these gracious words with a respectful 
 salutation ; each one of them is graven on my memory, 
 for my afflicted heart needed their sweet consolation. The 
 Queen passed on, leaving our whole company penetrated 
 with a feeling of love and respect. The daughter of 
 Maria Theresa was at that time far from imagining that 
 she to whom she had spoken in such obliging terms would become 
 the ivife of a general, who should one day place upon his head 
 the cvoivn of the Kings of France. — But let us not anticipate 
 the events which are, in fact, to follow with too rapid a 
 pace. 
 
 The inspector of the gardens conducted us to, and 
 showed us every part of, the two royal mansions. I care- 
 fully observed every object I met with, and took a note 
 of it in my tablets ; and, faithful to the promise I had 
 made to Her Majesty, prepared to offer her the results 
 of my reflections. Some days afterwards, I was admitted 
 to a private audience, in which, with the sweetest accent, 
 Maria Antoinette deigned to assure me of her august pro- 
 tection. She conversed with me with the greatest freedom,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 8l 
 
 and the King, who came in during the interview, assured 
 me, in an impressive manner, that M. de Beauharnais and 
 his children should ever be entitled to the enlightened 
 justice of the Court. " Besides," added he, " I shall never 
 forget the devotion of my subjects in America in sustaining 
 the honour of the crown. My ancestors have received from 
 that generous people considerable sums of money, and I 
 have not, in regard to them, dispensed with the obligations 
 of gratitude. Madam," continued he, smiling, " I must 
 acquit myself of all arrears towards you; you will receive 
 them from the hands of the Queen." I bowed respectfully. 
 The Queen then condescended to promise me a brevet for 
 my son, and, at the same time, untying an antique orna- 
 ment of precious stones which she wore about her neck, 
 she passed it round my own. The portraits of L. L. and 
 M. M. embellished the reverse of the medallion. 
 
 'Tis thus that monarchs ought ever to acknowledge 
 important services rendered them by the people ; but to 
 the people it belongs to know and to appreciate such 
 sovereigns. 
 
 Louis XVI. and his august spouse were never judged 
 impartially by their contemporaries. A terrible and pro- 
 longed revolution was needed, in order to make their real 
 virtues manifest, to unveil the infamy of their calumniators 
 and the villainy of their executioners. 
 
 About this period I received news from my mother. She 
 urged me by the most powerful motives to return to her, 
 and pour out my griefs on her bosom. The poison of 
 calumny had for a long time been distilling its venom upon 
 me, an unhappy wife ; and Madame de la Pagerie was 
 anxious to repair, in some sort, what she called her maternal 
 errors. I decided on quitting France — that France where 
 such strange destinies still awaited me. 
 
 VOL. I 6
 
 82 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The thought of separating myself from my son cost me 
 many and bitter pangs. I went and conjured M. de Beau- 
 harnais to entrust him to my care. He refused, in a very 
 formal way. " What harshness 1 " cried I, while gazing 
 despairingly upon one of his friends, who came a few days 
 before my departure to console me respecting that cruel 
 denial. He listened to me, wept with me, and promised to 
 interest himself in my behalf with my husband. The aid 
 which a firm and generous friendship renders to innocence 
 and misfortune is the prop of suffering virtue. I recom- 
 mended to him my Eugene, and said to him : " I go to kiss 
 the earth which saw me born, and to bedew it with my 
 tears ; for I perceive that I can no longer be happy in 
 France. Adieu, adieu ; speak not of Hortense to M. de 
 Beauharnais ! Can the daughter interest one to whom the 
 mother is odious ? Alexander," continued I, " you shall 
 account to me for the exile I am compelled to undergo. 
 Your own peace is its sole object ; but at least forgive my 
 tears." A few days afterwards I went on board the 
 frail bark, which bore me away from my son and my 
 husband. 
 
 Assisted by the tide and a light breeze from the north- 
 east, the shallop left the port. The air was calm, the sky 
 clear, and the sea, smooth as glass, reflected the burning 
 beams of the sun. The sailors raised their song, keeping 
 time with their oars, which rose and fell in unison with 
 their strains. 
 
 And now the sails are spread ; the pilot holds the helm ; 
 the vessel bounds forward ; it cleaves the billows, and 
 begins to roil. It soon became the sport of the waves, 
 which tossed it wildly about, and drove it to and fro. It 
 may be imagined what I must have suffered at seeing little 
 Hortense, who was not at all habituated to this continual
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 83 
 
 bounding, and found it impossible to keep her feet or to 
 endure the ship's motion without sea-sickness. 
 
 On the morning of the thirtieth day of our voyage, the 
 captain on a sudden discovered a large craft bearing right 
 down upon us. Whether he or his pilot was remiss in his 
 duty is uncertain, though it is certain that the crew first 
 informed him that the two vessels were running foul of 
 each other, bow to bow. The captain grew pale, but 
 uniting presence of mind with courage, quickly ordered 
 all hands to the quarter-deck, and, by a strong effort 
 bringing his vessel to the wind, changed her direction, 
 and saved us at the moment the two bowsprits were 
 coming in contact. The stranger vessel, v/hich bore the 
 English flag, passed us alongside and veered off. Shouts 
 of joy evinced the heart-felt gratitude of the crew for 
 this narrow escape. The captain congratulated his pas- 
 sengers, and me particularly, on his having been able to 
 rescue us from one of the most frightful perils of the sea. 
 Squalls from the south, however, frequently threatened 
 us with shipwreck or hidden rocks. Having become, by 
 mental suffering, utterly heedless of the yawning gulfs 
 beneath me, and leaning against a sail, I measured with 
 curious eye the depths of the waters. I defied the green 
 waves that rose mountains high around me, and seemed 
 about to swallow up the frail bark and the crew it bore. 
 At length, however, after a long and perilous passage, 
 during which we twice ran the risk of a collision with 
 other vessels, we terminated our voyage ; and my feet 
 again touched the beloved soil of my native land. 
 
 It seemed to me that I now became animated by a new 
 existence — a firmness of mind, a feeling of disdain for 
 every species of constraint. I was henceforth nothing but 
 a woman, fully determined to maintain that personal 
 
 6—2
 
 84 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 dignity which nature had given her ; for I had long ago 
 appropriated to myself that beautiful thought of Plautus : — 
 
 " // we siippovt adversity with courage, we shall have a keener 
 relish for returning prosperity.''''^ 
 
 I Fortiter malum qui patitur, idem post patitur bonum.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 85 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Oh, let the man who has wandered far from the 
 paternal roof look within himself and ask his heart for 
 an explanation of that delicious melancholy which he feels 
 on returning, after long absence and many troubles, to the 
 cradle of his infancy ! Then will he feel that Nature, 
 which does so much for her ungrateful children, in bind- 
 ing them to their native land by habit, friendship, and 
 youthful recollections, seems to have fixed an eternal 
 boundary to that yearning after bliss which devours with- 
 out ever satisfying. 
 
 But in vain does sad experience teach us this; in vain 
 does the flitting dove, wounded and palpitating, come 
 and fall at our feet. The transitory impression she makes 
 upon our hearts is quickly effaced by the rapid movements 
 and tumultuous phantoms which our ever busy passions 
 produce within us. 
 
 I again found myself within the bosom of my family. 
 I began to enjoy that serenity of mind which I had 
 hitherto seldom felt. The place which saw him born 
 affords to every man of feeling an almost indescribable 
 pleasure. We love to retrace the scenes of our youth, 
 to revisit its interesting theatre, and to tread our 
 natal soil. I would have freely forgotten the luxuries 
 of Europe to enjoy again in the colony the precious 
 boon of freedom. If sometimes I turned my eyes towards 
 France, it was only to recall the fact that the father 
 of my children dwelt in that cradle of taste, arts and 
 industry.
 
 86 SECRET MEMOIRS OF • 
 
 Such, indeed, were the sentiments which I expressed 
 to the Countess de Montesson, to whom I often wrote 
 after my arrival at Martinique. 
 
 In my second letter to her I said : " Nature, rich and 
 sumptuous, has covered our fields with a carpeting which 
 charms as well by the variety of its colours as of its 
 objects. She has strewn the banks of our rivers with 
 flowers, and planted the freshest forests around our fertile 
 borders. I cannot resist the temptation to breathe the 
 pure, aromatic odours wafted on the zephyr's wings ; I 
 love to hide myself in the green woods that skirt our 
 dwelling ; there I tread on flowers which exhale a perfume 
 as rich as that of the orange grove, and more grateful to 
 the senses. How many charms has this pleasant retreat 
 for one in my situation! When I want to weep without 
 any witness of my tears, over the loss of my husband and 
 my son, I retire to these sequestered spots ; their profound 
 silence inspires me with a secret awe and soothes my sad- 
 ness. Every day do I seem to hear my Eugene's voice, to 
 see his beautiful face, his pleasant smile ; I seem to press 
 him to my bosom — and find myself alone with Hortense ! 
 The lovely little creature seems already to compassionate 
 the ills her poor mother endures for her. By degrees my 
 reason triumphs over my weakness and restores me to 
 myself. I find myself in the midst of my relations and 
 the old friends who once loved and still love me tenderly." 
 
 Nearly three years had passed away since my separa- 
 tion from my husband, when secret advices reached me 
 from France that M. de Beauharnais was prepared to treat 
 me more kindly. "He would," I was told, "not only 
 change his wrathful conduct, but was disposed to show 
 me some particular favours." — " My Eugene," said I to 
 Madame de la Pagerie, "my Eugene will alone be the seal 
 
 I
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 87 
 
 of our reconciliation ; for, but for the love I bear him, I 
 should choose to end my days in my favourite island." 
 This sole consolation which remained to me in the midst 
 of such multiplied sufferings — the double pleasure of re- 
 ceiving, as a wife, M. de Beauharnais' acknowledgment 
 that I had never ceased to deserve his confidence, and, as a 
 mother, of pressing my beloved son again to my heart — 
 healed my wounds, and made me forget whole years of 
 sorrow and misfortune. I could quit my family and home, 
 and bear a yoke which might, perhaps, still be an oppressive 
 one. I could do all this, for when the happiness of her off- 
 spring is concerned, a mother has stern duties to perform, 
 and the evils which threaten them appear to her more for- 
 midable than those which she herself may incur. But my 
 friends opposed my return to the Continent. " You have 
 your daughter," said they continually ; " her society will 
 console you for her father's rigorous treatment." — " But my 
 son is far from me," was my reply ; " my satisfaction can 
 never be complete while that is the case ; I am anxious to 
 join him." I yielded for a moment to the importunities of 
 my father ; for, of all the ties that bind us to life, those of 
 kindred are the strongest. But still my eyes were turned 
 towards France. A few days before making my prepara- 
 tions to leave Martinique I was witness of an event which 
 particularly struck my attention. 
 
 While returning one morning from the " Three Islets," 
 I noticed a considerable gathering of people in front of a 
 meanly appearing dwelling, and hastened to inform myself 
 of the cause which was exciting so much interest among 
 the by-standers. A Creole woman told me, with tears in 
 her eyes, that " mother David, otherwise Euphemia, had 
 broken her leg, and that they had taken her to her house, 
 where she had fainted. This woman," said she, " is
 
 88 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 universally beloved ; all the settlers treat her well and feel 
 a deep interest in her. She has, moreover, great authority 
 over the negroes, for nothing happens in the colony that 
 she does not foresee. Nothing escapes her eagle eyes. 
 The most secret projects of mankind are no mysteries to 
 her." 
 
 I called to mind the fact that my own curiosity had once 
 led me to consult this v/ise mulatto woman, and felt an 
 irresistible desire to visit her a second time. I had been 
 very far from tasting that happiness which she had promised 
 me, and I could no longer cherish the dream with which she 
 had once flattered my imagination. On this occasion I 
 found her confined to her bed by the wound she had re- 
 ceived, and surrounded by the slaves who were so fond of 
 her. From the vault of a spacious chamber hung a lamp, 
 resembling those which are used in tombs. Its lurid rays, 
 mingled with the thick darkness, served only to render 
 visible the gloominess of the place. Nevertheless, the old 
 woman immediately recognised me. I informed her that 
 her predictions were not only not realised, but that since 
 the time I had, like others, yielded to a feeling of curiosity, 
 I had experienced nothing but misfortune. 
 
 " Patience," said the aged sibyl, gazing at me ; 
 " patience ! " She pronounced some almost unintelligible 
 words, the sense of which was — That my husband was about 
 to rise in the world by his own merit ; but that enemies would one 
 day attempt to take his life, and that in the end he would lose his 
 head. 
 
 I ventured to put some other questions, but Euphemia 
 refused absolutely to answer them. She continually re- 
 peated: "/ still hold the same opinion; and when you go away 
 there will appear, not the same prodigy as when you first left us, 
 but cruel and perfidious enemies, who are only waiting for your
 
 THE EiMPRESS JOSEPHINE 89 
 
 depavtuve in order to carry fire and sword into the midst of us, 
 and again lay waste the colony " (21). 
 
 I was struck by the perfect coolness of her manner, 
 and the tone of calm assurance she employed. During 
 the following month I made my preparations to sail for 
 the Continent. The passage was quite unpleasant. 
 
 The ship I embarked in twice took fire, which I re- 
 garded as a favourable augury (22) ; for such is the force 
 of early impressions that they are seldom, if ever, effaced. 
 The moment we came in sight of the coast of France, the 
 captain ordered the sails to be furled. 
 
 My heart could not resist the emotions caused by 
 recollections so dear to it, and I endeavoured to persuade 
 myself that the father of my children was, perhaps, the 
 innocent cause of my troubles, which I presumed to be all 
 
 the work of the deceitful Madame de V . It seemed 
 
 to me impossible that I could have raised the storm 
 which roared above my head. 
 
 Could I, who had never been drawn into the torrent 
 of human follies, imagine that a proper sense of what 
 honour and religion prescribe would one day be imputed 
 to me as a crime ? 
 
 But if anything could allay the unjust suspicions of 
 
 which my enemy, Madame de V , had made me the 
 
 object, it was the engagement which I had long since 
 made with myself to banish from my mind the image of 
 William de K . 
 
 His name, indeed, often escaped the lips of some of 
 my acquaintances, who still took the liberty to recall him 
 to my memory ; and many of them took real pleasure in 
 carrying on constant intrigues with him, and showing me 
 his letters. 
 
 Resolved to remain utterly indifferent, I adhered in-
 
 go . SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 violably to the resolution I had formed at the time of my 
 marriage, to return, without opening them, the numerous 
 letters from that colonist ; and whenever he came from 
 Edinburgh I carefully avoided seeing him. " It shall be 
 even thus," said I {love is feeble ivhile it is timid), " and I 
 will prove to my husband that a rash judgment is often 
 unjust ; that too much severity savours of tyranny, and 
 that among our equals we ought to respect ourselves." 
 Thus did I seek to smother the memory of my past dis- 
 grace, and, notwithstanding all my efforts, I remained for 
 whole days inactive and listless. Whatever caused me to 
 think, drove me to tears. Hortense^ was my only comfort ; 
 by her playfulness she forced me in a manner to forget 
 the past — that past which had been so full of trials — and 
 to look forward to the future, which had in store for me 
 such grand, such wonderful destinies. 
 
 At the end of a few days of security, I heard of the 
 horrible revolution which had broken out in Martinique. 
 I trembled for the precious lives of my family and friends. 
 
 The negroes had ceased to work. I seemed to see 
 those slaves, powerful by their numbers, armed with 
 flaming torches, thirsting for blood and carnage, ravaging 
 the country, carrying off flocks and herds, setting fire to 
 houses, putting the whites to flight, taking them prisoners, 
 or striking them down with the murderous poniard. If 
 
 I Hortense was presented to her father in the simple and charming 
 dress of a young Creole. " 'Tis I," cried the viscount; " I recognise 
 my features. I looked just so at the age of seven." He kissed his 
 daughter repeatedly, and appeared enchanted by the little surprise 
 which Josephine had practised upon him. He said, with a smile, to 
 Madame Montmorin, who, in concert with the Marquis de Beau- 
 harnais, had brought about this interview : " Venim piites hand aegre, 
 quod valde expetas" — "We easily believe what we ardently desire to be 
 true."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 9I) 
 
 we consider the blacks in these moments of rebellion, 
 
 they are not worthy to be called human beings, for they 
 
 are more cruel than the tigers of the desert. They were 
 
 in open revolt against their masters, and the oppressed 
 
 colonists trembled under their victorious and ferocious 
 
 weapons. 
 
 11 est des mortels, dont le dur caractere, 
 Insensible aux bienfaits, intractable, ombrageux, 
 Exige un bras de fer toujours leve sur eux. 
 
 — Voltaire.
 
 92 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A SECRET presentiment, much more than the continual 
 assaults made upon me, inspired me with a blind courage 
 — filled me with the most lively hope. Will that hope last ? 
 
 I was, at length, united to M, de Beauharnais in sweet 
 concord. Peace, daughter of the skies, signed the treaty 
 of reconciliation (23) ; oblivion of all past complaints was 
 expressly stipulated ; Eugene and Hortense were the 
 guarantees. My days began to flow on happily, and 
 the affection of my children smoothed their current. 
 Several months were passed in the bosom of this pure 
 felicity. I went but seldom into society, and avoided 
 all company where wit shows itself only in sallies of 
 satire. My visitors were from the ordinary circle. In 
 order to please my husband, who began to be friendly 
 to me, I banished from my drawing-room those idlers, 
 those coquettish women whose conversation is so charm- 
 ing, but whose levity often produces such mischievous 
 consequences. 
 
 I was often received at Madame the Countess of 
 Montesson's. That lovely and intellectual lady en- 
 chanted me, not only by her rare qualities, but by the 
 style of her conversation. She attracted around her the 
 most briUiant society, and numbered among her admirers 
 men of the highest worth and the most distinguished 
 attainments. She deigned to honour me with particular 
 attentions ; and whenever she experienced anxieties, 
 'twas on my bosom that she sought to soothe them. 
 
 She had received into her circle of friends William de
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 93 
 
 K , whose young wife had been presented to her. 
 
 She would often say to me, " My Jieart,^ I perceive that 
 the companion of your childhood has only obeyed the 
 law of necessity. By his marriage he has scattered all 
 your husband's doubts ; he has given him, in some sort, 
 an assurance of perpetual safety ; but his poor heart 
 seems to me to be ill at ease." 
 
 He contrived to hide, under the mask of politeness, 
 his indifference, and even his coldness. Besides the 
 affectionate regard which he affected, he seemed to be 
 penetrated with a kind of awe towards her. 
 
 Madame de K became the mother of a daughter, 
 
 and refused to entrust the infant to the care of any third 
 person; in this she acquitted herself with the tenderness 
 of an excellent mother. William honoured his wife, ad- 
 mired her virtues, and lamented his inability to love her. 
 
 "Ah!" said he, "I should enjoy the highest bliss 
 could I feel for her that with which another woman 
 long since inspired me ! But I must avoid this latter ; 
 her peace and mine equally demand it ; and yet she is 
 the only object on earth that I love more than my own 
 existence." 
 
 This young Creole, through the influence of the 
 Duchess of Grammont (24), was endeavouring to obtain 
 from the French Court an order for the reimbursement 
 
 of the moneys lent by the ancestor of Lord Lov to 
 
 Louis XIV. during the wars of the succession. Com- 
 pelled to go over to England to obtain certain important 
 papers, he in the meantime confided his wife to our 
 care. This mark of friendship touched Beauharnais. 
 Madame de K became, so to speak, my best friend. 
 
 I A name of endearment given by the Countess to Josephine.
 
 94 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 I endeavoured to alleviate her anxieties during her 
 husband's absence. I knew how to sympathise with her, 
 but I also knew how to hide myself under an impenetrable 
 veil. The image of the man whom I had known from my 
 cradle, and whose child exhibited to me every day an exact 
 resemblance to her father, did not cease to haunt me. I 
 caressed the babe from a feeling of friendship towards 
 him ; and the little Elinora (for that was her name) 
 might well imagine that she had two mothers, who loved 
 her with equal tenderness. 
 
 Devoted to the pleasures of friendship, to my dear 
 children, and my adopted daughter, I now enjoyed that 
 bliss which peace of mind alone can give. Absence and 
 the past feed the memory. Like painting, the heart's 
 recollections restore to us the features, the image of the 
 beings whom fate separates from us, whether that separa- 
 tion be caused by injustice or death. More powerful than 
 art, and less severe than fate, it recalls to us their feelings, 
 thoughts, manners, smiles and tears, and even the inflections 
 of their voice. " Astonishing power of the past 1 " I ex- 
 claimed ; " while we, frail children of sorrow, have lost 
 all power over it, and can be severed from it only by 
 death ! " 
 
 At length letters were received from William. He was 
 at the Bath Springs ; he wrote that he should not return 
 for some months ; that he had had a long sickness, and 
 must take time to recover his health. He besought 
 Beauharnais to continue to be the protector of his wife 
 and child. In a second letter, which soon followed the 
 first, he said — 
 
 .' "I am afraid I shall be forced to remain absent for 
 a long time, for there seems to be a sort of ferment here, 
 and many of the officers of the corps I command soHcit,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 95 
 
 as a special favour, to be sent into the country of Tippo- 
 Sdeh. Who knows but I shall be obliged to follow them ? 
 In that event, I know not when I shall return. In view 
 of this, I send you the papers which are necessary in 
 regard to my claim " (25). 
 
 About this epoch the political horizon in France began 
 to be darkened ; the minds of men were in a ferment ; 
 the large cities resounded with the names of the deputies 
 who sat in the Constituent Assembly. It was natural 
 that a new constitution should lead to great changes, 
 and the struggle between the people and the Court pro- 
 duced a deep impression upon my mind. I was alarmed 
 at seeing Beauharnais obliged to figure in those tumultuous 
 scenes. He could not, however, quit the post confided to 
 him by his constituents; and yet, for his personal safety, 
 I could have preferred to see him at Martinique in the 
 midst of his countrymen, whose confidence and esteem 
 he had once enjoyed. 
 
 As the wise men of the time had long foreseen, the 
 provincial Assemblies having separated without coming to 
 any decision, matters became so embroiled that the King' 
 felt it his duty to convoke the three estates of the kingdom. 
 The result showed that the remedy was worse than the 
 disease. The deputies from the nobility and the clergy 
 refused to make any sacrifice in favour of the commons 
 {tiers etat) ; while the people, for the first time, felt that 
 they could conquer by force. They were sustained in 
 their claims by the famous Mirabeau. 
 
 At the time when the different orders seemed ready to 
 
 I The time was now approaching when the language of Hume in 
 reference to Charles I. might be applied to Louis XVI. — " He found 
 himself in a situation where faults were irreparable ; a situation incon- 
 sistent with feeble human nature."
 
 96 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 come to an understanding, the evils of the Government 
 had become incurable.^ 
 
 M. de Beauharnais was by no means a hot-head in 
 the Convention. He was distinguished for his moderation 
 and his attachment to the principles of the monarchy, 
 and often deplored the fatal divisions which were springing 
 up. " The tribune," said he, " is an arena where the most 
 eloquent voices should be heard ; and yet it is a scene 
 of mutual provocation and insult. One might suppose, 
 on seeing certain orators, that they had just come out of 
 a circus, and were running about in quest of new gladiators 
 upon whom to try their strength, even in the presence of 
 the fathers of the country." 
 
 I knew at that time nothing about politics, but I was 
 forced every day to listen to interminable discussions, 
 and to meet in society those senseless brawlers who were 
 labouring with all their might to pull down the monarchy, 
 whose fall must inevitably crush them. I was visited by 
 the most influential men in the Assembly. The imposing 
 presence of the Abbe Maury, Bergasse, Cazales and the 
 popular Mirabeau seemed to put me to silence. I listened 
 to them with profound interest. That great and celebrated 
 orator, who, perhaps, aspired to the tiara, and who, had 
 he been the rival of Sextus Quintus, would have found 
 the means of imposing laws upon Rome, appeared to me 
 to be a profoundly ambitious man. He shrewdly covered 
 himself with the mantle of Christian charity, and readily 
 perceived that, in defending the Church, he was advancing 
 his own interest. 
 
 He was desirous of being made a bishop, and clearly 
 
 I The true authors of the Revolution, we are told by a celebrated 
 man, "were absolute power, despotic ministers, insolent nobles, and greedy 
 favourites !" — (Napoleon ? — Translator.)
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 97 
 
 foresaw that the moment the Church should be despoiled 
 its best situation would be of no advantage to him. 
 
 My opinion of the Abbe Maury was derived from him- 
 self, and when I heard of his being made a cardinal, I 
 was not surprised. He had for a long time been paving 
 the way to that eminent post, and had put everything 
 in requisition for its attainment.^ As to Mirabeau, he 
 marched straight forward to his object ; he had not been 
 well treated at Court, and he sought to annihilate those 
 who had been his adversaries. 
 
 Cazales was adroit, intellectual, and possessed talent 
 at extempore speaking.'^ M. de Beauharnais often replied 
 to him. Though with some shades of difference, their 
 opinions were the same, the former wishing to become 
 a great man, while the latter looked only at the good of 
 France. They agreed, however, that Louis XVI. did 
 not possess the firmness necessary to check the progress 
 of the Revolution. 
 
 1 When Racine had become devout, he appeared abashed in the 
 presence of Mademoiselle Champmele ; he blushed at his verses in 
 
 the presence of the Dauphiness. Mademoiselle C remarked : 
 
 " Had you not written them, you would not have been here." 
 
 2 Cazales and Rewbel had a violent altercation. The latter had 
 the best of it. The celebrated orator, overwhelmed with confusion, 
 shouted out : " You have the advantage, Jacobin ! but I have succeeded 
 in making myself heard by your wife." The celebrated Mirabeau, who 
 was present, looked at him with surprise, and coolly said : " Cazales, 
 remember that among gentlemen this would be regarded only as a 
 politeness, while a petty burgher would regard it as a serious insult." 
 Mirabeau's sang-froid really petrified poor Rewbel. 
 
 Rewbel was anxious to avoid a quarrel with his antagonist, and 
 begged his honourable colleague to give him his opinion upon this 
 important business. Mirabeau brought about a reconciliation, and 
 whispered in the ear of the offended husband : — 
 
 " Tout homme prudent doit se garder toujours 
 De donner trop credit a de mauvais discours," 
 VOL. I 7
 
 98 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Bergasse was an enlightened and profound politician ; 
 he deplored the errors of the Court, and coolly calculated 
 the effects of a change in the political system. " The 
 explosion," said he, " will be terrible — there is not one 
 of us who will not fall before it." 
 
 His counsels were sage ; he pointed out the remedy, 
 but his voice was lost as in a desert. The Assembly 
 would have it that he belonged to the society of the 
 Illuniinati. But this deputy was a man of great energy 
 of character, and not afraid to strip from his brethren 
 the mask of hypocrisy with which they sought to shroud 
 themselves. Sometimes he thundered like Cicero ; he 
 attacked those modern Catilines face to face ; but being 
 too feeble, alone and single - handed, to cope with an 
 immense majority, he at length contented himself with 
 communicating his opinions by his writings, which are 
 indeed masterpieces, filled with the maxims of an en- 
 lightened senator and profound statesman. 
 
 When, by the votes of all, Beauharnais was elected 
 President of the National Assembly, I could not help 
 calling to mind the famous horoscope of the prophetess 
 of Martinique ; the prediction began to be fulfilled ; for 
 my husband had begun to act a most important part (26). 
 Whenever he appeared at Court it was with profound 
 anxiety ; he loved Louis XVI. and appreciated his virtues. 
 Yet he could have wished him to make some sacrifices 
 which circumstances now rendered necessary, but which, 
 at the commencement of the Revolution, he himself had 
 opposed. He earnestly recommended them in 1791. 
 What was called the Orleans faction had kept up its 
 agitations for half - a - century. It was now in its full 
 vigour ; one step farther, and the Duke of Orleans would 
 have been able to seize the supreme power. But
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHIXE 99 
 
 Philip (27), as some thought, was wanting in native 
 courage, while, according to others, he was afraid to 
 assume the diadem which was offered him by certain 
 partisans. More than once did Beauharnais raise his 
 voice in defence of Louis XVI. He saw this unhappy 
 Prince exposed to the attacks of the Jacobins, who were 
 labouring to destroy him in the estimation of the people. 
 Seductive proposals were made to him, but he well knew 
 how to resist the charms of popular favour, and in reality 
 belonged to no party. 
 
 Though the romance of liberty had turned his head, 
 yet his purposes were as straightforward and pure as 
 his heart was upright ; and, although as an orator he 
 occupied only a second rank in the two Assemblies, his* 
 reputation as an honest man was universally admitted. 
 He did not seek after place ; but, possessing fine military 
 talents, the career of arms was the only one to which he 
 aspired. The moment the war was declared against the 
 Northern Powers, he laid aside the senatorial mantle and 
 resumed the sword. 
 
 He asked for and obtained the command of the army 
 of the Alps, where he acquired a great reputation. His 
 fidelity to his king was more than once put to the proof ; 
 and, like Bayard, he replied to some noblemen who urged 
 him to emigrate: " Go, join your princes; for my part, my 
 place is in France, and my duty as a soldier is to fight 
 the enemies of the State. Never zmll I hear avms against 
 my country ! I pity those who, to gratify an offended 
 pride, propose, as you say, to sacrifice their lives for 
 the best of kings, but who go off into foreign lands and 
 leave him alone. It is not by abandoning him to the 
 mercy of faction that you will prove to Europe your per- 
 fect devotion to the interests of the monarchy. On the 
 
 7—2
 
 lOO SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 contrary, you are destroying the throne, and sapping its 
 very foundations. By remaining at home, the emigrant 
 nobihty might have held the balance of power, and de- 
 cided the choice of the National Assembly and the Con- 
 vention, They might have prevented a factious minority 
 from declaring war upon the best of Frenchmen, the 
 intrepid friends of the monarchy ; they might have 
 restrained the men who produced the bloody scenes of 
 the 5th and 6th of October, the 14th of July, &c. (28), 
 by resisting the evil at its beginning, by making to 
 the nation the sacrifices demanded by the dilapidated 
 state of the finances, by doing homage to the people in 
 giving them some share in the public honours. The 
 most of the emigrants would better have served the 
 cause of Louis XVI. by throwing around him a rampart 
 of their bodies, than by running off and begging the 
 service of other nations. Doubtless those Frenchmen 
 imagined they were born to be the defenders of the throne, 
 and that, like true knights, they were bound to wage a 
 crusade in order to deliver their unhappy monarch from 
 the prison of his own palace. Their courage was truly 
 heroic, and they armed themselves in the noblest of 
 causes. But have those who sought to attach to their 
 banner the Powers of Europe, shown all the energy 
 which they ought to display in such circumstances ? 
 Why have the most of them accepted the perfidious aid 
 of the ancient enemy of France ? Shades of Duguesclin 
 and Clisson ! where are you ? You would be ashamed 
 to come out of your tombs ; your manes would shudder 
 at the outrage which has tarnished the name of your 
 descendants. It was in the breach. Frenchmen, that 
 you should have defended yourselves ; 'twas in sacrificing 
 a portion of your fortunes, in order to supply that enor-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE lOI 
 
 mous deficit which threatened the downfall of the throne, 
 that the nobility should have shown themselves worthy of 
 the age of Henry IV,, and that the virtuous Louis XVI. 
 would have been enabled to reign over a people so 
 worthy of him!" Such was M. de Beauharnais ! 
 
 The French Revolution took a character at once the 
 most terrible within and the most formidable without. 
 The royal family were about to experience the most 
 frightful catastrophe. " Paris," said a celebrated woman 
 (Madame de Stael), " presented nothing but a picture of 
 crime and weakness, while the army displayed one of 
 devotion and glory." 
 
 The best generals, however, became the sport of per- 
 fidious denunciations. M, de Beauharnais was secretly 
 warned of the menacing storm. By his poHtical conduct 
 he sought to impart confidence to the true friends of the 
 country ; but, unfortunately, there were but few who 
 deserved that honourable title. An open warfare was 
 waged among the different parties, and our modern Catos 
 presented no resemblance to that Roman senate who sincerely 
 aimed at the good of the republic, and whose members 
 flew to the defence of their country. The Romans, as 
 magistrates and warriors, cemented their government in 
 a two-fold way. 
 
 The Fabricii, the Cincinnati, after having subdued the 
 enemies of Rome, returned to spend the period of peace in 
 the bosom of their families.^ Those proud warriors sus- 
 pended their lances on the walls of the Temple of Amnion ; 
 
 I Fabricius died so poor that the senate was obliged to charge the 
 republic with the expense of his daughter's marriage. 
 
 M. Baldus adds that, after the death of Epaminondas, the whole of 
 the movable property found in his possession consisted of a spit and 
 a kettle.
 
 I02 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 they laid aside the buckler, and with their vdctorious hands 
 turned the furrows in their peaceful fields. 
 
 Yes, those masters of the world quitted their occupa- 
 tions only when called by their country to humble the pride 
 of the confederated nations which sought to subject them 
 to their dominion.^ 
 
 How far were our modern legislators from imitating 
 those whom they affected to take as their models ! The 
 words " Liberty and Country " were continually in their 
 mouths. But the numerous Luculluses by their pomp 
 outdid the famous Sybarite, and, towards the close of the 
 Legislative Assembly, they were seen armed against each 
 other. Every day the most courageous deputies were 
 compelled to abandon the orator's tribune to the factionists. 
 " Wavgiis esto /"^ was continually repeated. " Say, rather," 
 answered Beauharnais, " say, rather, ' Death to France ! ' if 
 she is to be governed thus." The ancient riding-school 
 (manege), where the people's representatives sat, resembled 
 a real circus, where gladiators came to display their 
 prowess and engage in perpetual combats. Louis was 
 but the phantom of a king ; the sword of faction already 
 menaced his head. The dreadful events of the 20th of 
 June, and the loth of August, lifted the veil from the 
 approaching destinies of France. It was under the same 
 frightful auspices that, on the 22nd of September, the 
 republic, one and indivisible, was proclaimed. 
 
 The monarch, already declared dethroned by a guilty 
 minority,'' perceived, but too late, that his weakness had 
 
 1 Said the Athenians, after the ravages of the Persians in Greece : 
 "We still have the soil; that is enough for a victorious people." 
 
 2 " Death to the opposing party ! " 
 
 3 Crowns are lost only by timidity. Had the unhappy Louis XVI. 
 been convinced of this truth, how many evils would it have sa\ ed 
 France !
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IO3 
 
 but emboldened audacity, and forged the manacles with 
 which his own hands and those of his family were to be 
 loaded. 
 
 An inexplicable fear paralysed the guilty Areopagus ; 
 they saw that they themselves could not try the King. 
 It was for the Convention to show to Europe the example 
 of possessing itself of the supreme power. Champfort, 
 Vergniaud, Guadet, Valaze, eloquent apostles in the cause 
 of liberty, all served it with talent, and some of them with 
 good faith and courage. But the brilliant genius of the 
 Gironde party appeared only as a star in the midst of thick 
 darkness ; it glittered but to mislead those who gazed upon 
 it. Louis had already let fall from his feeble grasp the 
 sceptre won for him by Henry IV. ; he had become the 
 pity of some, and the scorn of others. The friends of the 
 monarch contented themselves with mourning over his 
 fate, without opposing any barrier to the dark projects of 
 the assassins.^ And thus it was that the heir of an ancient 
 monarchy was detained as a prisoner in his own estates, 
 whence he was not to escape but on the wings of im- 
 mortality.^ The Legislative Assembly seized the royal 
 authority ; but it was reserved for the Convention to 
 conduct the King to the scaffold. 
 
 II est done, en naissant, des races condemnees, 
 Par un triste ascendant vers les crimes poussees, 
 Que formerent des dieux les decrets eternels 
 Pour etre en epouvante aux malheureux mortels. 
 
 — Voltaire. 
 
 I "The whole history of Louis XVI. is but a series of bungling 
 refusals and imprudent concessions. The whole Revolution was but 
 audacity on the one side and fear on the other " — [Madame de Sta'i'l). 
 
 2 " Adieu, lovely and generous France ! adieu, thou who didst 
 desire liberty, and who mightst have obtained it. Now am I doomed 
 to sketch first thy faults, next thy crimes, and lastly thy woes ! "— 
 {Madame de Stai-l).
 
 104 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Unhappy people! shun, or approach with sacred awe, 
 that tower of the temple, whose walls imprison your hapless 
 sovereign. The chamber where Louis XVI. retired to pre- 
 pare for death |is a sanctuary whose portals open to heaven. 
 Here the torch of truth burns with a cloudless ray ; here 
 the mask of hypocrisy falls ; here the heart appears in all 
 its nakedness. Here the virtuous monarch appeared as he 
 really was, for it is on the brink of the grave that virtue 
 shows itself in its true light. God himself rends away the 
 veil and shows His own. However imposing the exterior 
 which pride lends to the heroes of a vain glory, their 
 borrowed grandeur here gives itself the lie. Virtue alone 
 retains its majesty in the arms of Death ; in the grasp of 
 that tyrant, the true hero alone can triumph. Louis, 
 with what rigour did he treat thee ! 
 
 Twice was the King dragged before the National Con- 
 vention, which had erected itself into a court for the 
 purpose of trying him. He refused to acknowledge the 
 crimes imputed to him. 
 
 Why did he not follow the example of Charles I., and 
 deny the authority of his judges?^ (29). In that case, per- 
 haps he might have been saved, for the French really loved 
 their sovereign. But, under the pretext of sustaining justice 
 
 I It seems clear that such a plea would have availed him nothing ; 
 his death was but a part of the revolutionary system, and was as 
 necessary as the " loth of August." The law decreed his personal 
 inviolability, and his counsel (M. Deseze) made that a point in his 
 defence. But to what purpose ? His time had come — the monarchy 
 was to be extinguished. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IO5 
 
 and the laws, a few obscure, ignorant and ambitious men 
 presumed, in the face of the astonished world, to condemn 
 to an ignominious death their master and their King. 
 
 Day of mourning ! fatal 21st of January, 1793 ! who can 
 efface the memory of its gloomy tragedy ? Shameful epoch 
 in our history, what an abyss did it create in France ! An 
 age will not suffice to sound its depths. The blood of the 
 just was shed ; it bedewed a land covered with crimes, and 
 instead of invigorating the pretended Tree of Liberty, the 
 parricidal offering only served to engender the most un- 
 bridled licence. This regicide act, which covered the name 
 of the sovereign people with shame, was, nevertheless, the 
 work of a minority. It astonished all Europe. The death 
 of Louis XVL was an infamous violation of every principle 
 — an assault upon the people themselves, and a terrible 
 blow at all sovereigns (30). 
 
 M. de Beauharnais raised his voice against that exe- 
 crable crime. He foresaw the dangers which menaced the 
 kingdom, and, though he could have wished to abandon the 
 theatre of horror, yet the state of things prevented. War 
 was breaking out on all sides, and it was necessary to make 
 a decided stand in the face of Europe. His arms had not 
 arrested the murder of the King ; his troops had not been 
 able to subdue a people whom it was supposed easy to 
 enslave. 
 
 Fear roused the energy of the nation, and the love 
 of glory wrought prodigies. 
 
 Our soldiers showed themselves the equals and even 
 the superiors of their predecessors in the military career. 
 By a spontaneous movement all France rushed to arms. 
 The war-cry rang from one extremity of the kingdom 
 to the other — '■'■The invader must be expelled!'" 
 
 But the French always transcend the limits they pre-
 
 I06 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 scribe to themselves, and the love of great and generous 
 actions feeds the flame that animates them. Alas, woe 
 to the men who know not how to take advantage of 
 their sublime impulses ! 
 
 The august chief of the nation should, at the very 
 dawn of the Revolution, have placed himself at their 
 head. Had this been done, France, sustained by the 
 valour of her soldiers, and protected by her tutelary laws, 
 would have witnessed the triumph of those noble, sublime, 
 and philanthropic ideas which constitute the glory of a 
 great nation. 
 
 But the political horizon was covered with dark clouds. 
 The revolutionary tribunal took the place of that of the 
 loth of August, and daily sent numbers of unfortunate 
 persons to the scaffold. Every man trembled for his 
 own safety ; for, whatever his rank, he could not elude 
 the bloodthirsty vigilance of the times. The noble and 
 .the plebeian were confined together and sat upon the same 
 criminals' bench. The most devoted generals became 
 martyrs to their own fidelity, and even the firmest sup- 
 porters of the new Government perished before that hideous 
 idol, popular licence, whose thirst could only be slaked 
 by rivers of gore. The hired informers denounced even 
 their own families, and hurled their insults at the Deity, 
 The temples of worship were subjected to their sacri- 
 legious assaults ; they despoiled the sanctuary and broke 
 in pieces the consecrated vessels, the more easily to steal 
 t+iem. The Saturnalia (31) of antiquity seemed renewed. 
 The slaves became the masters, and the Goddess of Reason 
 stood beneath the sacred arch in the temple of religion. 
 The ministers of this new worship were also the pillars 
 of the Jacobin club. 'Twas that impure cavern which 
 belched forth the famous revolutionary committees, those
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IO7 
 
 representatives of Fouquier de Thinville, and the ring- 
 leaders of the popular societies, who got up the fabricated 
 conspiracies in which multitudes of persons, unknown to 
 each other, found themselves implicated. Everyone looked 
 upon himself with a shudder ; the father trembled for the 
 son, the son for the father, and the husband for his 
 wife. People fled from the capital as from another Nine- 
 veh. The troubles at Lyons, in Le Comtat Venaissin, 
 the taking of Toulon by the English, and its recap- 
 ture by the French, who there exercised unheard - of 
 vengeance, struck all France with affright. La Vendee 
 seemed to rise from its ashes. The decree which ordered 
 all the rebel cities to be burnt, drove the principal in- 
 habitants from them. It was there that the snare was 
 laid in which the new cannibals proposed to catch all 
 those ministers of the Gospel who had refused to take 
 the civic oath ; they hoped to overwhelm, with the same 
 proscription, all those who had uttered murmurs against 
 the new order of things. The greater part of the in- 
 habitants abandoned their labour ; some sank under 
 the pressure of misfortune, while others fled before the 
 pro-consuls, who carried terror and death in their train. 
 The major part of the proscribed were ignorant people, 
 not attached to their village lords, and displeased with 
 the priests, who had taken the civic oath, and who came 
 to occupy the places of their old curates. Many of these 
 new pastors fanned the flames of discord, and took the lead 
 in the popular disturbances in the towns ; while others held 
 it to be their duty not to treat with their consciences. 
 
 Hence, schisms arose and became a source of the 
 greatest calamities. The flight of General Lafayette, 
 and the desertion of General Dumouriez soon followed. 
 
 The Convention daily summoned to its bar the most
 
 Io8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 distinguished military officers. The aged Luckner was 
 one of the first to fall beneath its strokes, and General 
 Custine soon took the seat of an accused person before the 
 revolutionary tribunal. He learned, too late, the folly of 
 having served such a cause. Nor was the Duke de Biron 
 slow to appear before the same tribunal ; and while our 
 armies were covering themselves with glory, the powers at 
 Paris were, like cowards, cutting the throats of the generals 
 who had led our troops to battle, and who, with them, had 
 everywhere reaped the laurels of victory, whether in their 
 efforts to expel the foreign forces who had dared to invade 
 France in 1792, or in crowning their numerous exploits by 
 the subjugation of Belgium, the ever memorable victory of 
 Jemmapes, or the not less glorious victory of Fleurus. 
 
 I began to be really alarmed for the safety of my 
 husband. It was he alone who could dissipate my anxiety; 
 his political and military conduct was worthy of all praise ; 
 he had made every kind of sacrifice during the Revolution. 
 He showed himself the firm friend of the wisest measures, 
 though he had sworn eternal hatred against the factions 
 which tore France asunder. He used to say to the principal 
 leaders : " The true spirit of patriotism, that which in days 
 gone by produced so many miracles and so many heroes, 
 is a wise and rational love of country, an enlightened con- 
 fidence in her strength and resources ; and not that weak 
 and jealous scorn, by means of which some people seek to 
 supply the place of that vigorous national hatred which is 
 inspired in every honest bosom by the violation of the 
 principles of justice, the ravages of ambition, or the efforts 
 of tyranny. Rome did not fall a prey to the Gauls and her 
 other foes until she had become so blinded as to recognise 
 only rude barbarians in the simple but warlike nations 
 which overthrew her empire." 
 
 I
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IO9 
 
 Such were the noble thoughts of a citizen zealous for 
 his country's good. But this was enough to place his name 
 on the Hsts of proscription. He shared, with other victims, 
 honourable chains, and the palace built by the Medicis 
 opened its doors and served them as a prison (32). 
 
 There, all ranks and sexes were confounded together ; 
 men of all nations were seen there. There, the heir of a 
 lordly house shared his bread, and often his amusements, 
 with the son of an honest artisan ; and he who still re- 
 membered the proud position he had once occupied in 
 society, here sought by kindly acts alone to make himself 
 better known to the unfortunates by whom he was sur- 
 rounded. M. de Beauharnais soon distinguished himself 
 by acts of generosity. He not only alleviated the wants 
 of his companions in misfortune, but, by his example, 
 endeavoured to inspire them with fortitude, which seemed 
 to forsake them. Military men, who had braved death 
 twenty times in battle, were seen to tremble at the approach 
 of their trial, and fainted at receiving the formal act of their 
 accusation. 
 
 These examples show that the certainty of death 
 humbles the courage ; while, on the field of battle, the 
 really brave man forgets the danger in the hope of victory. 
 
 If reached by the deadly steel or lead, he falls with 
 brows entwined with the laurels he has won ; or, at least, 
 he has not felt the certainty of approaching destruction. 
 What matters it to him, provided he dies with arms in his 
 hands ? The sons of Mars ask for no other apotheosis. 
 
 Numbers of those warriors whom the scythe of Time 
 had spared fell beneath the revolutionary axe. The general 
 of the army of the Alps shared the fate of those illustrious 
 unfortunates, and his last moments were those of a man 
 who knew how to unite greatness of soul to philosophy.
 
 TIO SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 He gazed upon the road to immortality with the calmness 
 of a sage. Less fortunate than Cato, he could not follow 
 the example of that virtuous Roman and fall by his own 
 sword ; but he ascended the scaffold with perfect firmness, 
 and the letter which he sent to his disconsolate widow, 
 the true interpreter of his last thoughts, astonished his 
 executioners. Even Thinville, the ferocious Thinville, 
 was overwhelmed by it.^ 
 
 " Et ce monstre, apres lui trainant tous ses forfaits, 
 Va, dans des flots de sang, se battre a jamais." 
 
 I was, at this epoch, detained in a solitary prison, 
 where Time, seated side by side with Sorrow, drooped 
 his wings ; where the innocent and the guilty drained, 
 drop by drop, the cup of adversity. 
 
 It was written that in this place of horror I should 
 receive the last will of my husband ; alas ! it recalled 
 bitter and cruel recollections (33). 
 
 The dawn of each day announced to us that new 
 victims had been carried away during the night. Those 
 who remained spent the morning in agonising reflections. 
 In the afternoon, I joined my fellow-prisoners, and hastily 
 ran over the journals, which were then but the archives 
 of death (34). Judge of my surprise — depict my anguish, 
 on seeing, among the number of the executed, the name 
 of my husband ! I fell down senseless. " Let me die ! " 
 I cried, in the delirium of agony ; " peace is only in the 
 grave. My hapless children will perish in this struggle 
 
 I "I condemn you " (wrote M. de Beauharnais to the successors of 
 Jeffreys) "to read, every day, the predictions of Vergniaud. He said 
 truly when he told you that in a short time you should reign over 
 corpses and heaps of bones ; over the ashes of the dead, scattered to 
 the four corners of your republic. Pause ! stand upon the graves you 
 have filled ; look each other in the face, and read in each other's eyes 
 the maledictions of Nature herself ! "
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE III 
 
 of virtue against crime ! " Such were my exclamations. 
 On the morrow of this gloomy day, they presented to 
 me the act of my own accusation. Stupefied with horror, 
 I was unable to read it. A mournful silence, the calmness 
 of hopeless woe, were the only sentiments manifested to- 
 wards me. Other victims were soon removed from our 
 prison. I was called in my turn. I tore myself from 
 
 the arms of Madame d'Orm and Madame R , 
 
 who strove in vain to hold me. Rushing, with eyes full 
 of tears, to the keeper of the prison, not knowing but I 
 might be included in the fatal list, I sought, for the last 
 time, to press to my bosom the sad fruits of an unhappy 
 marriage. The agents of tyranny maintained a disdainful 
 silence, and directed me to go away. One of them 
 manifested some surprise on recognising me (35), and so 
 great was the number of the condemned, that, it would 
 seem, from that circumstance alone, my name had been 
 erased from the fatal list. What do I say ? The 
 ascendant of my star directed my course far away from 
 the impending danger, but only to expose me in future 
 to the caprices of inconstant fortune. 
 
 As if they had determined that we should suffer a 
 thousand deaths before inflicting the one they were 
 preparing for us, they suffered us, contrary to the 
 custom adopted by those Cerberuses, to whose surveil- 
 lance we were subjected, to linger for twelve long hours 
 in the corridors, which had, in some sort, become the 
 head -quarters of the prisoners. Here they questioned 
 and answered one another in a loud tone of voice ; 
 suspense, affright, and terror froze our senses. Each 
 one imagined the moment of his death was come. For 
 several weeks it had been rumoured abroad that deep 
 pits had been dug under the different houses used for
 
 112 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 prisons in the capital, in which the wretched prisoners 
 were to be buried. The generale was beaten ; the tocsin 
 sounded on every side ; my companions could not dis- 
 semble their fear, and the dreadful scenes of the 2nd 
 and 3rd of September^ presented themselves vividly to 
 their affrighted imaginations. Terror was painted on 
 every countenance ; every mouth uttered the accents of 
 despair. The long expectation of that death which 
 these ferocious men hurled around them at hazard, 
 seemed more terrible than even the stroke which 
 awaited us on the scaffold. Those who clearly saw 
 their end approaching, soon became resigned to their 
 fate, though they could not banish from their minds 
 that sentiment of dread, which is the inevitable com- 
 panion of the end of human life. 
 
 For some hours, the unfortunate females who were 
 with me uttered loud lamentations. A young dog be- 
 longing to one of them set up a mournful howling (36). 
 This spread a universal panic. But even in the midst 
 of so much gloom, some of them sought to lull them- 
 selves with the illusions of hope. The Duchess of K 
 
 seemed suddenly inspired — " We need fear nothing," said 
 she ; " the futiiye Queen of France is among us. It was foretold 
 to her that she should occupy the throne ; it is utterly 
 impossible that the prediction should be fulfilled in this 
 horrible place ; it must be verified elsewhere. I venture 
 to express the prediction that we shall all escape from 
 the destruction which now threatens us." Will it be 
 believed ? These words produced such an effect upon 
 
 I 1792. The allusion is to the lawless and bloody butcheries in 
 the prisons of Paris, from the 2nd to the 7th of that month, during 
 which time, it is said, 1,005 persons were put to death in the prisons; 
 among them, the Princess Lamballe met a tragical end. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE II3 
 
 those who heard them, that they thronged around that 
 weeping widow, who was then far, very far, from supposing 
 that, in two lustrums afterwards, she should have occasion 
 to call to mind, in behalf of themselves and their families, 
 the obliging promises which, to amuse them, she then 
 made to those women. One of the keepers of the prison, 
 whose rough manners had always inspired us with dread, 
 now came among us in apparent trepidation, and setting 
 down the vessels which contained our scanty meal, seemed 
 to preserve a mournful silence. What were we to infer 
 from this ? Some conceived a feeble hope, which the 
 rest regarded as a vain chimera. 
 
 This state of uncertainty and anxiety lasted till ten 
 o'clock at night. 
 
 A person who took an interest in our sufferings found 
 the means of sending us the following note : — 
 
 " Robespierre and his accomplices are marked for ac- 
 cusation ; be quiet — you are saved." ^ 
 
 Our first emotion found vent in thanking that kind 
 Providence who had deigned to save us. Never did we 
 address to Heaven more heartfelt thanks. Yet I alone, 
 after recovering from the overwhelming effects of this 
 deliverance — I alone presumed to murmur against the 
 laws of that Providence who had seen fit to take from 
 me the most worthy of husbands. Five days later, and 
 M. de Beauharnais would have escaped the rage of his 
 
 I What citizen was there, in those tragical times, who did not 
 mourn the loss of a relation, a friend confined in chains, or expiring 
 under the murderous axe which the sacrilegious knaves presumed to 
 call the "axe of Justice?" — as if Justice reigned only in the midst of 
 terror, over ruins and coffins ! Alas ! mourning and lamentation filled 
 all hearts ; stupor and affright were depicted on every countenance, 
 and the tyrant and his minions made it a crime even to appear to 
 lament the loss of friends. 
 
 VOL. I 8
 
 114 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 persecutors, who had charged themselves with purveying 
 to that man-devouring tribunal ; and the phenomenon of 
 my astonishing elevation would not have surprised the 
 two worlds. 
 
 Many days thus passed away in waiting for the desired 
 moment of our deliverance. More happy than my com- 
 panions, I had recovered my liberty the night before the 
 fall of the blood - thirsty Robespierre (37). At length 
 Bourdon de I'Oise and Legendre entered the houses of 
 arrest, to set at liberty the victims of a frightful tyranny. 
 They were received with universal blessings. From the 
 impulses of pity, they liberated many whom they did not 
 at first intend to release. 
 
 The former acted from a motive of fear ; the latter 
 from an honest conviction of his past political errors. 
 
 Who would then have supposed that Legendre to be 
 the same man who had proposed, in the National Con- 
 vention, to divide the body of Louis XVL, and send a 
 portion of it to each of the several departments ; and that 
 the same hand which now opened the prison doors, had 
 signed the death-warrant of his King ! Just God ! Thou 
 whom the hypocrisy of those men of blood so often 
 offended, look upon them with pity ! How have they 
 suffered under Thy avenging hand ! 
 
 " Le cruel repentir est le premier bourreau, 
 Qui dans un sein coupable enfonca le couteau." 
 
 — Racine. 
 
 What did those new Cromwells gain by their blood- 
 thirsty ambition ? Riches, honours, power ? Power ! 
 alas, time will show them they paid for it dearly. They 
 will find themselves abased from their grandeur, banished, 
 miserable, a prey to fierce remorse. What will then re-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE II5 
 
 main to them ? Can the universe afford any cure for 
 their ills ? Alas, no, no ! 
 
 " A man guilty of crime is pursued through life by the 
 fear of a punishment proportionate to his offence, and this 
 fear is its first expiation." 
 
 " Melius in vita poenarum pro malefactis 
 Est insignibus insignis scelerisque luela." 
 
 — Lucretius. 
 
 8-2
 
 Il6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 I CAST my eyes around me. I saw men actuated by 
 no other sentiments than hatred, pride and mutual dis- 
 trust. But there was one among them whose soul was 
 susceptible of friendship, who inspired confidence, and who 
 did not stand in fear of others. He enjoyed not only the 
 happiness of having wrenched their bloody sceptre from 
 the hands of the decemvirs, but was looked up to as 
 being able to do much good in future by extending a 
 helping hand to those illustrious families whose names, 
 whose wealth and whose talents had excited the envy 
 and fed the cupidity of the successors of Sylla. These 
 families he should have covered with a protecting 
 aegis (38). 
 
 Rescued from the sword of my executioners and 
 restored to my children, I pressed them both to my 
 bosom and covered them with my tears. Eugene had 
 become an Emile (39), and my beloved daughter had 
 undergone extreme suffering. My industry was now their 
 only support. 
 
 I swore in the face of Heaven an eternal hatred to 
 the assassins of their father. But who would have thought 
 that, in the course of a few years, I should actually have 
 it in my power to avenge (40) myself ? The property of 
 M. de Beauharnais had become the booty of the plunderers 
 of France, and I was left in a state of destitution. While 
 away from my family the greater part of my friends were 
 scattered ; those who remained, though they well knew 
 my wants, were in a situation no better than my own.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE II7 
 
 While waiting for the National Convention to allow my 
 just claims, I united my feeble resources to theirs. We 
 had a mutual understanding and furnished each other 
 information (41). Someone, who was really interested 
 in my welfare, advised me to cultivate seriously the 
 acquaintance of the Deputy Tallien, in order to accelerate 
 the liberation of my personal property from the seques- 
 tration to which it had become subject. That personage 
 had become all-powerful. I saw him but seldom ; but 
 from a feeling of confidence in him, having by his means 
 so narrowly escaped being one of the victims of the 
 Reign of Terror, I presented myself among the circle of 
 friends surrounding that celebrated man, who, on the 
 gth Thermidor, had displayed so much energy and inspired 
 other representatives with his courage. 
 
 I expressed to him, in the most glowing terms, my 
 acknowledgments for the political miracles he had wrought, 
 not forgetting to suggest to him that much yet remained 
 for him to do, and that it especially appertained to his 
 dignity to effect a restitution of their estates to the children 
 of the condemned. I insisted strongly on this point, and 
 flattered myself with the expectation of soon seeing my 
 own taking possession of their patrimony. But even 
 this was not enough for me : I pleaded the cause of all 
 those who had been the victims of the different factions — 
 factions ever divided among themselves, and who, since 
 1793, seemed never to be united, except for inflicting 
 death. 
 
 The deputy seemed deeply impressed with the nature 
 of my claim. He told me the step I had taken was 
 a courageous one, and one which, in his eyes, did nie 
 infinite honour. For the rest he advised me to arm 
 myself with patience, and frankly told me that time alone
 
 Il8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 could bring about that great act of justice which I had 
 come to solicit at his hands. 
 
 The tone and manner of the representative produced 
 a very deep impression on my mind. His approaching 
 marriage with Madame Fontenay was the theme of every 
 tongue (42). Everybody told anecdotes about it, some of 
 which were quite curious, and furnished plausible excuses 
 for that extraordinary union. 
 
 Some censured her and accused her of selfishness and 
 precipitation, while others, more wise and clear-sighted, 
 congratulated her on obeying the impulses of her heart. 
 
 The men were moved with envy at the good fortune of 
 the modern Antony, when they saw him espouse a young 
 woman whose beauty rivalled that of Cleopatra. To the 
 resources of a superior mind, Madame Fontenay united 
 the noblest moral sentiments, which presented a strong 
 contrast between her and the ancient Queen of Egypt. 
 The latter, devoured by ambition, greedy for absolute 
 power, would have attached to her car either Lepidus or 
 Octavius ; while the interesting daughter of Cabarrus, 
 prompted by a sentiment of friendship, and obeying the 
 dictates of her own heart, contracted this second alliance. 
 She afterwards refused to listen to the insinuations of 
 another and a powerful man (43), who often proposed to 
 her to rupture the chains of Hymen, and attach herself 
 to the fortunes of Caesar. 
 
 Eugene soon began to display that noble character 
 which he was destined one day fully to develop. His 
 lively and ardent imagination led him to seize with trans- 
 port upon whatever related to his illustrious father. When 
 listening to the story of our victories, he would say with a 
 sigh : " I certainly should have witnessed this new triumph 
 if my father had lived. W' hat glory would he have acquired
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 1 19 
 
 for himself and us !"^ My son was fond of the history of 
 the French Revolution, and though still young, investigated 
 its primary causes ; he sometimes astonished his teachers. 
 He said one day: "/ want to become a great captain; I will 
 crush into their original nothingness the oppressors of my 
 country, and as for my mamma, I would, should I reach the 
 rank of general, surround her with the greatest dignity." I 
 warned him of the dangers of passing the bounds of a just 
 ambition, and, for his instruction, cited some celebrated 
 examples. " My boy," said I, " an honest fortune is pre- 
 ferable to the highest distinctions. I should be unwilling to 
 quit the sphere in which fortune has placed me, in order to 
 move in one more extended." I did not fail to make known 
 to him the unmerited persecutions which the Queen and 
 Madame Elizabeth had undergone. Would it not have been 
 better for those princesses to have been born in a hovel, 
 than in the palace of kings? (44). This tender-hearted 
 boy would sometimes picture to me my future grandeur, 
 and recall to my mind the predictions made at Martinique, 
 and more recently in Paris. I admit that I had the 
 weakness to place some confidence in them, and suffered 
 
 myself to be led by the example of M. and Madame R , 
 
 to visit and consult a young woman who had dared to utter 
 some cutting truths in the faces of the ferocious decemvirs 
 (45). But I have since attributed to chance what perhaps 
 is only the fruit of long and serious reflections, 
 
 Eugene flattered himself with the hope of being, one 
 day, the sole author of my happiness. Excellent prince ! 
 when you shall peruse the Memoirs of thy mother's life, 
 you will remember with emotion that, in your infancy, you 
 dreamed of projects which you intended one day to execute ; 
 
 I Eugene was in the campaign of 1792 with his father, though not 
 twelve years old.
 
 I20 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 but, alas! it belonged to another mortal to change my 
 peaceful existence, to conduct me upon a vast theatre, 
 and to present me to the gaze of posterity. 
 
 Hortense had become my only companion, and I took 
 pleasure in cultivating her mind. She was captivated by 
 the love of the fine arts ; her pencil was ever in her hand, 
 sketching my own features or those of her brother. She 
 could already draw tolerably well. 
 
 I often visited Tallien ; he had become my protector, and 
 I was in the habit of daily taking my son and daughter to 
 him. Through his intervention I had succeeded in obtain- 
 ing some small indemnity from the managers of the public 
 property, but my principal claim still remained unanswered. 
 It was necessary to provide for the wants and the education 
 of my children, in which my friends, knowing my situation, 
 kindly came to my aid. 
 
 They furnished me with employment which enabled me, 
 for the time being, to re-establish my affairs, and to sup- 
 port, at least with greater fortitude, the ills which had 
 befallen me, and which were the more cruel because they 
 were not merited.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 121 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 At length the Directory took the place of that mon- 
 strous government, the Convention. The supreme pov^^er 
 was exercised by five individuals. An assembly far more 
 pacific, and animated by better intentions, put an end to the 
 anarchy which, since 1792, had desolated France. Serenity 
 began to be enjoyed ; the citizen saw religious and political 
 toleration succeed to the Reign of Terror^ ; Frenchmen who 
 had hitherto been fugitives began to re -appear; society 
 was re-established, and the meetings of friends and ac- 
 quaintances began to be interesting ; the nobility again 
 animated the saloons ; jokes and pleasantries were con- 
 stantly directed against the new dictators of France (46). 
 
 Our governors were content to laugh at them, and one 
 of them remarked good-naturedly to his colleagues : "What 
 of all this ? We must let them talk about politics as they 
 please ; while they do nothing but make songs, bouts-rimes, 
 charades and riddles, we may well accord to them this sort 
 of indemnity for the property of which they have been 
 despoiled. Don't let us trouble their sports ; let them ap- 
 pease their wrath with fetes and balls a la victime (47). 
 This will afford them recreation and some sort of recom- 
 pense for the numberless ills they have felt. We ought to 
 be more liberal that the Convention ; they undertook to 
 enchain the thoughts of men ; but it is the duty of the 
 
 I Rome was drenched with blood at tlie^ time of the triumph of 
 Lepidus for the victories in Spain, and with unexampled folly he 
 ordered every one to join in it on pain of proscription.
 
 122 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Directory to give the mind scope. It is, perhaps, the surest 
 means of ascertaining pubHc opinion, and of remedying 
 those evils into which an abuse of power may betray us." 
 
 Thus reasoned one of our new sovereigns. The people 
 in general detested them, but the more wise and considerate 
 awaited in silence the results of the late Revolution. 
 
 Letourneur de la Manche was an insignificant charac- 
 ter, of a frigid temperament, and, in good faith, a republi- 
 can ; one of those men of whom little good can be said, 
 and who are not so criminal as to justify us in imputing 
 much evil to them (48). 
 
 Rewbel's look was rather sour ; his aspect, at first 
 blush, seemed repulsive, but, on further acquaintance, 
 became more agreeable. Having no great experience in 
 the field of politics, he obeyed, voluntarily, the impulses 
 of the majority of his colleagues, and yielded readily to 
 his fears (49). 
 
 La Revelliere I'Epeaux was a true philanthropist. Like 
 the successor of Mohammed, he thought to legalise his 
 ridiculous scheme of religious worship and his errors ; but 
 he possessed none of the qualities fitting him for a prophet. 
 His very shape testified against his senseless pretensions, 
 and everything about him proved that he was but a fourth - 
 rate actor on the great theatre of the Revolution. He, 
 however, played his part before the sovereign people, ex- 
 citing only laughter and pity, but not the least admiration 
 
 (50). 
 
 Carnot was truly an enlightened man ; an austere re- 
 publican, he became lost in the thorny path which he com- 
 menced to travel as a philosopher. He was one of the 
 judges of the unfortunate Louis XVL His opinion was 
 probably against his vote. He certainly did not love kings; 
 and yet, had he been a courtier, no one would have appre-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I23 
 
 ciated better the noble qualities of the monarch. Carnot 
 would doubtless in the end have done them homage. His 
 understanding, and the fruits of his profound studies, would 
 have served him as a torch in discovering the virtues of 
 King Louis XVI. This member of the Directory ever 
 gave the wisest advice, and was absolutely a stranger to 
 the most of the decrees issued by his colleagues. He 
 signed them for mere form's sake, and appeared indifferent 
 to the new dignity with which he was invested. He often 
 forgot the hours of the public sessions of the Directory, 
 and took no pride in wearing the directorial purple ; he 
 appeared constrained and embarrassed under the official 
 toga,^ and though possessing a knowledge of almost 
 everything, seemed to experience embarrassment in re- 
 ceiving even a petition, and, at times, great difficulty in 
 answering it verbally (51). 
 
 I come, lastly, to Barras, that man whose reputation 
 is not even yet fixed by public opinion. He was the 
 hope of all parties, but espoused none. He severely cen- 
 sured the men of the Revolution, and cast contempt on 
 our fierce demagogues. He had just cause of complaint 
 against many of them ; and yet, for his own advantage, 
 he caressed them all. He wore the livery of no faction. 
 The new system and the new state of things had brought 
 him forward. Though allied to the principal agents of 
 the two former executive committees, he shared neither 
 the extravagances of their opinions nor their crimes, but 
 on the contrary was accused by many of moderatism. His 
 youth having been boisterous and very irregular, he was 
 despised by the nobility, and this circumstance probably 
 
 I It is well known that Turenne, who certainly possessed the 
 qualities of a great general, had great difficulty in learning how to 
 pass the salute at the head of his army.
 
 124 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 inflamed his zeal in favour of the revolutionary principles. 
 He was a member of the tribunal that sat in judgment 
 on the King. He tendered his resignation — -it was not 
 accepted, and the proposition was answered by frightful 
 menaces. The Brutuses of the Assembly denounced him 
 as a recusant, and fear alone dictated the vote he gave 
 on that dreadful occasion. Very difl"erent from Cromwell, 
 who coolly signed the death-warrant of Charles I., 
 and covered the face of one of his fellow-judges with ink 
 ill passing him the pen. Barras grew pale and spoke not 
 a word while depositing the black ball in the urn of 
 those new infernal judges. Personally he wished no ill 
 to the King, but was drawn along by the force of cir- 
 cumstances. His object was to save the King, but to 
 destroy royalty, in attempting which he suffered himself 
 to be subdued by the culpable example of others. Pene- 
 trated by a sense of the crime, he invoked an appeal to 
 the people ; but it was too late, the homicidal axe awaited 
 the august victims (52). 
 
 While a representative of the people, Barras had been 
 sent on a mission into the southern departments. 'Twas 
 there that he became acquainted with Bonaparte (53). He 
 had the tact to discover the talents of that man who has 
 exercised so powerful an influence over my existence as 
 well as his own. It is not for me to relate the events 
 which took place at Toulon. History has charged herself 
 with their publication, and that is enough for me ; my 
 duty is to be silent. 
 
 After the rising of the National Guard against the 
 Convention, Barras had held the post of general of the 
 troops of the division of Paris. Not feehng within him- 
 self the courage to repel force by force, he authorised 
 Bonaparte to reap those sterile laurels. He gave up
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I25 
 
 the command that had been confided to him to the 
 young Corsican, whose enterprising character from hence- 
 forth began to be known. The pupil and rival of the 
 famous Paoli now considered himself on the road to 
 fortune and to glory ; he was anxious to attract atten- 
 tion, to inspire confidence; and soon the 13th Vende- 
 miaire enabled him to display both his intelligence and 
 his audacity. His success opened to him a new prospect 
 for the future, but the unfortunate city (the second 
 cradle of his military reputation) presented to the eyes 
 of affrighted Frenchmen a spectacle the most sorrowful 
 and deplorable. 
 
 This act was enough, however, for those two men, 
 impelled by a thirst for celebrity, and proud of having 
 made the capital tremble. The moderation of the 
 one and the foresight of the other had made the 
 Frenchmen who were most resolute in opposing the acts 
 of a power as feeble as it was arbitrary, lay down their 
 arms. 
 
 The several parties became calm, lamented their rash- 
 ness, and came to an understanding with each other ; 
 and the victors themselves, astounded at the sad results 
 of their bloody success, could have wished an eternal 
 veil to be drawn over so many political errors. But 
 Frenchmen will never pardon the National Convention 
 for giving orders to fire upon the people ; and the general ♦ 
 himself incurred blame for having followed too promptly 
 the barbarous orders transmitted to him by their au- 
 thority. 
 
 The victorious party had reduced to order the so-called 
 rebels, and rejoiced at it. The carnage would have been 
 much greater but for the harmony which subsisted be- 
 tween the two functionaries of power. The ambition
 
 126 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the first was satisfied ; the other sought occasion for 
 the still further development of his courage. Unhappily, 
 these two pohticians agreed in their views, and people 
 began to conceive that a young man thus ardent was 
 capable of overthrowing nations ; he became the protege 
 of the Directors, and soon obtained a promise of pro- 
 motion. But it was Barras, and Barras only, who showed 
 any anxiety to fulfil the promise (54). 
 
 Before this gloomy epoch the Terrorists of the " Moun- 
 tain " had used all their efforts to regain the sceptre 
 which the deputy Tallien had so valiantly broken in 
 pieces ; they had secretly conspired for the purpose of 
 preserving their strength. 
 
 "We must," said they, "foment discord among the 
 sections, and rouse them to an insurrection, and then 
 induce the most spirited party to blockade the Con- 
 vention." Alas ! Paris will long remember the fruits 
 of that sad day's work, whose chances were all calculated 
 with as much coolness as mystery ! It appears that 
 one of the most famous generals who figured among the 
 opponents of the Government was pretty thoroughly 
 initiated into the secrets of the revolters, but who, at 
 the moment of executing the plot, hesitated to commence 
 a civil war, and gave up the command to another. This 
 honest man afterwards reaped the sad wages of his rare 
 moderation (55). The capital began to assume a less 
 sombre aspect. Yet a terrible scarcity prevailed, which 
 added something to the existing discontents. Nevertheless, 
 the people remained quiet. In the provinces there was 
 more agitation, and the war in La Vendee, never yet 
 wholly extinguished, seemed now to assume new vigour. 
 It was resolved to pacify this province, if possible, and 
 General Hoche was deputed to undertake that famous
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 1 27 
 
 negotiation. He was well known ; his modesty was uni- 
 versally praised. 
 
 A decided republican, his manners were agreeable, 
 and although at times his duty compelled him to issue 
 stern orders, he endeavoured to modify their execution. 
 He was shocked at the violence, the burnings and pro- 
 scriptions in the western departments, and could foresee 
 no end to them; and yet he was ever ready to do justice 
 to the courage and talent of the rebel chiefs. He pitied 
 the unhappy peasantry, who were merely led on by the 
 more designing; towards the masses he felt a merciful 
 disposition. He sometimes even saved the lives of rebel 
 officers taken with arms in their hands. He offered 
 protection to the old men, women and children. 
 
 Often did he seek to resign the command of this army, 
 but could not prevail upon the Government to grant 
 him his dismission. He wept over the barbarities com- 
 mitted by his soldiers, whose rage he found it impossible 
 to restrain, and through whose violence he had often 
 seen, in the heat of combat, the blood of innocent pri- 
 soners spilt. His authority could not restrain these 
 terrible executions. His instructions were decided and 
 formal — " War to the castle — peace to the cottage."^ 
 
 This unhappy country presented nothing but a scene 
 of devastation ; death stared everyone in the face, and 
 almost every town exhibited to the eye of the spectator • 
 nothing but smoking ruins. For five years, in this afflicted 
 region, had crime succeeded to crime, and disaster to 
 disaster. Hoche sought to heal these evils, to re-establish 
 
 I It is well known that the deputy Tallien suggested to General 
 Hoche to solicit of the Government the pardon of the emigrants who 
 were made prisoners at Quiberon. The general immediately proceeded 
 by post to Paris, but the pardon which he demanded for the sufferers 
 was pitilessly refused.
 
 128 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tranquillity, industry and confidence ; but the thing was 
 impossible. He aimed, by means of a pacification with 
 the principal chiefs, to rescue those provinces from the 
 desolations which had prevailed there ever since the com- 
 mencement of the civil wars. It became the honour of the 
 French name to treat with good faith the principal officers 
 of the Vendean army. The young hero exhibited towards 
 them the frankness and candour of a good man, not that 
 republican haughtiness and austerity which were then so 
 much in fashion ; and his mission was crowned with signal 
 success. 
 
 For a long time the royalists had demanded the recall 
 of the son of Louis XVI., but in vain. They had offered 
 to lay down their arms as the price of his restoration, and 
 it is pretended that such a clause was introduced among 
 the secret articles of the treaty ; but as the deputy Sevestre 
 had publicly announced the death of the young King to the 
 National Convention, the Vendeans could not insist upon 
 his being transferred to the headquarters of their army. 
 All, therefore, which could now be done by the parties was 
 a promise of mutual oblivion of the past, a simple exchange 
 of prisoners, and the complete submission of the insurgent 
 departments to the laws of the republic. And thus did 
 those Frenchmen at length return to their homes and fire- 
 sides who had so long been fighting against their brethren. 
 Fanaticism undoubtedly had armed and impelled many of 
 them in that bloody strife, and tended to prolong that 
 terrible conflagration which had raged for such a length 
 of time, in spite of the profound experience of the general- 
 in-chief, who used all his efforts to check its progress. 
 But Hoche, by continued exertions, finally succeeded in 
 extinguishing a volcano which menaced France with con- 
 stantly recurring eruptions.
 
 THE EMPRESS jOSEFHINK I29 
 
 I often received news from the Mentor of my son.^ I 
 was related to persons whom he loved, and who delighted 
 to witness the growing reputation of the pacification of La 
 Vendee. After the conclusion of the treaty of peace, he 
 hastened to communicate to us some very interesting details 
 respecting the famous Charrette. Hoche praised his courage 
 and admired his modesty. In one of the interviews which 
 took place between them, after the usual compliments and 
 some reciprocal felicitations upon their exploits, Charrette 
 said to him : " General, you conduct a treaty in good faith, 
 while your Government makes a merit of having none ; you 
 seek to establish peace in La Vendee, while the Committee 
 of Public Safety is not animated by the same sentiments. 
 Imposture and knavery compose the policy of its mem- 
 bers, frankness and straightforwardness characterise yours. 
 General, lend me your ear. We are both Frenchmen, 
 serving, it is true, under different banners, but not the 
 less men of honour. Mark me ! France will see us both 
 fall in this struggle. I shall perish for having trusted to 
 your promises ; and you, young warrior, you will die a 
 victim to that glory with which you have covered yourself 
 by signing this capitulation " (56). 
 
 These last words made a singular impression upon the 
 mind of General Hoche (57) ; he inferred from them that 
 the civil war would be renewed. Before this, he could not 
 believe in the dissimulation of those whom he was serving ; 
 but now the idea that he was but the principal agent of 
 a mere party, who were using him for their own selfish 
 purposes, humbled his pride and shocked his sensibility. 
 
 I Hoche bore a singular affection for the son of Madame de 
 Beauharnais. It was in the school of that general that young Eugene 
 acquired the first rudiments of the military art which, in after life, he 
 greatly adorned, as well by his bravery as by his mild and generous 
 conduct. 
 
 VOL. I Q
 
 130 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 He regarded as inviolable the terms to which La Vendee 
 had subscribed, and could not support the thought that, 
 in spite of himself, he was to become a perjurer ; and this 
 apprehension troubled him. In vain did he seek to banish 
 it from his mind ; it constantly returned upon him, and 
 with augmented force. And soon did this modern Bayard 
 perceive the sad reality that he was but a chief without 
 power, invested only with an honourable title ; that his 
 mission had had no other effect than to create divisions 
 among the higher officers of the royalist army ; that the 
 most solemn promises were not fulfilled ; that fire and 
 sword must still continue their ravages ; and that, ere 
 long, the scourge of war must annihilate his last hope 
 of a reconciliation. 
 
 Hoche himself could not be faithless to his word ; 
 yet his solemn promise was violated, not by him, but by 
 men who prided themselves on the title of republicans. 
 This was sufficient to inspire him with the courage to 
 utter his complaints to the Directory. He presented his 
 claims to that famous tribunal with the pride of a Roman, 
 without weakness and without shame^ — ^with the firmness 
 of a Frenchman, without fear and without reproach. As 
 a recompense for the great services he had rendered, he 
 died, it is said, the death of Socrates (58). 
 
 I deeply felt his loss ; I had conceived for the brave 
 warrior such a particular esteem that many of my friends 
 conjectured that my marriage with him was near at hand. 
 
 I did, indeed, look upon the general with a feeling of 
 kindness ; but how could he inspire me with the senti- 
 ment of love ? I was well aware of his attachment for 
 Madame de Pont-Bellan^ ; the modest "Lazaro"^ had 
 saved her in La Vendee. 
 
 1 She afterwards married an aide-de-camp of General Hoche. 
 
 2 Madame de Beauharnais used to call him thus in private.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I3I 
 
 Had he been free to dispose of his heart, I presume 
 I might have made an easy conquest of it, but I Hmited 
 myself merely to being his friend, his confidante ; and 1 
 may possibly have had the good luck to influence some 
 of the generous actions with which his military career 
 abounded, and to which his unhappy end has imparted 
 an unextinguishable brilliancy. 
 
 For the wife of the representative TalHen I entertained 
 a real esteem, and our friendship made us inseparable. 
 I shared all her griefs and all her pleasures ; Madame de 
 Cabarrus then shone in the midst of the most select circles. 
 Paris was proud of a woman who then constituted the 
 principal charm of society. Luxury began to reappear ; 
 the republican costume was eclipsed by the splendour 
 and frivolity of the new fashions. Assemblies were better 
 composed, and our modern Luculluses undertook to 
 establish the ton of good company by improving their 
 toilette and purifying their language. Nevertheless, their 
 common and borrowed manners only showed that they 
 were yielding to the force of circumstances (59). 
 
 Tallien, however, did not sympathise with their sombre 
 authority ; he had frankly renounced his first principles, 
 and, ashamed of the name of Jacobin, served under the 
 colours of no party.' He wished to maintain the republic, 
 but was opposed to making new sacrifices to consolidate 
 it. He had a sensitive soul ; he was susceptible of pity, 
 and daily struck from the lists of proscription victims who 
 had been condemned by the revolutionary laws." These 
 acts of mercy were often the work of his wife ; she never 
 
 1 It must not be forgotten that it is perhaps more praiseworthy 
 to rise nobly from a fall than to have been constantly irreproachable ; 
 and that it is difficult not to lose one's course when the only way 
 to the open sea is shrouded by storms and tempests. 
 
 2 He was of that small number who do good in secret and 
 blush to find it fame. 
 
 9—2
 
 132 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 applied to him in vain. Every unfortunate family well 
 knew that to effect an erasure from those lists or a restora- 
 tion of their goods it was sufficient to obtain the recom- 
 mendation of that beautiful Spaniard. 
 
 Many flattered her with vain promises of rewards for 
 her friendship, but her soul was too generous to think of 
 making a fortune in so base a way. When, afterwards, 
 she found herself surrounded by the many whom she had 
 obliged, and who were just and wealthy enough to testify 
 their acknowledgments for her favours, she employed the 
 evidences of their gratitude in relieving the widow and 
 the orphan whom she found without support. Such was 
 that woman whom calumny has not failed to pursue, and 
 whose most generous actions it has sought to poison. 
 What do I say ? If Tallien had not been smitten by 
 her charms, I affirm that the memorable 9th Thermidor 
 would not have broken the iron sceptre of the modern 
 Marius.^ 
 
 W^ithout that movement in favour of liberty, millions 
 of heads would have fallen beneath the revolutionary axe ; 
 and who can tell where, or how, the torrent could have 
 been checked, when once it should have burst its banks ? 
 The generations which are to come after us will owe their 
 existence to the good understanding which then reigned 
 between Madame de Cabarrus'^ and the representative 
 
 1 Tallien would doubtless have accomplished the same result 
 soon, from his mere opposition and hatred to the decemvirs ; but 
 on being made acquainted with the danger which threatened Madame 
 de Fontenay he brought on the crisis sooner by several days than 
 he otherwise would. 
 
 2 "If," said Josephine, "I wished to speak of a lady peculiarly 
 dear to my heart — one of those friends who, as Cicero says, make 
 prosperity brighter and adversity more tolerable — I should name 
 Madame Tallien, at present Princess of Chimene."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I33 
 
 Tallien. God formed that union in order to put an end 
 to the excesses of those monsters who had drenched 
 France with blood ; if, afterwards, the influence of that 
 happy and beneficent pair became great with the Direc- 
 tory, it was but one of the miracles which Providence 
 saw fit to work. Unable, without the aid of others, to 
 combat the hydra of the Revolution, they at least did 
 something towards taming the monster. Barras seconded 
 them with all his power. The wise are of opinion that 
 this director had to reproach himself with but slight faults 
 while occupying the eminent post which chance had given 
 him. Ah ! who cares for the absurd stories which at that 
 epoch were in circulation about him ? The duty of a 
 writer is to despise the popular weapons of ridicule, and 
 to employ himself about the facts which he is to narrate. 
 Without the intimate union and co-operation of those 
 three persons, who moved together towards the same 
 object, the termination of our woes, our Revolution, the 
 living image of Saturn, would have ended by devouring all 
 her children. 
 
 'Tis not merely the zeal of friendship which actuates 
 me ; I have been an eye-witness of the facts I am re- 
 tracing; I have a personal knowledge of many others 
 which I ought not now to bring to light ; they are, it is 
 true, present to my memory, but 'tis not time to draw 
 aside the veil of mystery which hides them. Tallien and 
 you, Madame Cabarrus (60), worked for yourselves and 
 posterity, and you can expect nothing from your con- 
 temporaries but indifference and ingratitude. 
 
 "Qui sert son pays, sert souvent un ingrat." 
 
 Too happy still, if they would but cease to persecute 
 you for the future ! Yes, they are the men who owe their
 
 134 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lives to you, and who will probably pursue you with the 
 utmost hatred, and prove your most implacable foes. 
 
 " Je connais trop les grands; dans le malheur amis, 
 Ingrats dans la fortune, et bientot ennemis, 
 Nous sommes de leur gloire, un instrument servile, 
 Rejette par dedain des qu'il est inutile, 
 Et brise sans pitie s'il devient dangereux." 
 
 My time was thus spent in the bosom of friendship ; 
 I delighted to recur, in memory, to the different scenes 
 of my life. " Too fortunate moments," said I to myself, 
 " did you but furnish me an occasion to perform some 
 acts of beneficence ! I then would show to the unfor- 
 tunate that the ancient virtues of the French are not 
 yet wholly banished from all hearts ! " In the midst of 
 the terrible revolutionary whirlwind, there were some 
 souls that knew how to guard themselves against breath- 
 ing the deadly vapour of that horrible contagion, which 
 threatened from time to time to consume Paris and the 
 departments. Since the death of the best of kings, France 
 was governed in turn by the different factions, which 
 succeeded each other with rapidity ^ ; and well might the 
 good man, in the bitterness of his soul, exclaim with the 
 preacher : " O Josiah ! happy lived we under the shadow 
 of thy name ; to us thou wast like the rose ; the beauty 
 of spring, like the lily which showeth its queenly whiteness 
 beside the pure running waters, like the incense of Arabia 
 
 I How did men conduct themselves in this Revolution ? After 
 having obtained all that was to be expected from a modification of 
 the monarchical power, and when the Revolution seemed settled upon 
 a solid basis — when, in short, they had a compass to steer by, across 
 an ocean covered with so many shipwrecks, certain ambitious ones 
 got possession of power, turned the strength of the people against 
 themselves, and committed scenes the most shocking and deplorable, 
 which were, whatever the pretext, nothing but execrable crimes.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I35 
 
 beneath the summer's sun. How hath the strong man 
 fallen who saved the people of Judah ? Let us weep for 
 the Lord's anointed, who hath been taken from us by 
 reason of our iniquities."
 
 136 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 I COME now to the time when my destiny was to 
 change. Since the death of my husband, my heart had 
 dwelt upon the recollection of those dreadful events 
 which had decimated France, and plunged so many 
 families into- mourning and oblivion. The image of my 
 lost happiness, revealing itself to me as I reflected that 
 M. de Beauharnais had intended again to unite himself 
 to me, seemed, even in the midst of my misfortunes, to 
 betoken a more happy future. I avoided all display, and 
 thus found my situation supportable. Happy to be free, 
 I felt a repugnance to contract another marriage. But 
 my destiny did not so will it. It was my habit to look 
 for a more favourable change, and this expectation 
 seemed justified by my fortunes. Besides, I had, on 
 the ashes of my husband, vowed never to give my hand 
 to a man unworthy of him, or of the rank I had held in 
 society. I closed my ears to the proposals which a 
 certain republican minister made me ; and yet it was 
 written in heaven that I should be united to a man 
 who was one day to enchain Europe to his victorious 
 car, and that, like Esther, I should prostrate myself at 
 the feet of another Ahasuerus, and aid him to escape 
 from the blind counsels of those who would have per- 
 suaded him to exterminate wholly the men who remained 
 faithful to their legitimate kings (61). 
 
 Being one day on a visit at Madame Chat 
 
 Ren 's, while sitting by a window, I was looking at 
 
 some violets, of which my friend took the greatest care,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I37 
 
 when, suddenly, the famous Bonaparte was announced. 
 Why, I was unable to tell, but that name made me 
 tremble ; a violent shudder seized me on seeing him 
 approach. I dared, however, to catch the attention of 
 the man who had achieved so easy a victory over the 
 Parisians. The rest of the company looked at him in 
 silence. 
 
 I was the first to speak to him. " It seems to me, 
 citizen general," said I, "that it is only with regret that 
 you have spread consternation through the capital. 
 Should you reflect, for a moment, upon the frightful 
 service you have performed, you would shudder at its 
 consequences." — " 'Tis quite possible," said he ; " but 
 what is your idea, madam ? The military are but 
 automata, to which the Government gives such motions 
 as it pleases ; they know nothing but to obey. The 
 sections are quite happy — I have managed them. The 
 most of my guns were charged only with powder. I 
 only aimed to give the Parisians a small lesson ; 'tis, 
 besides, my seal that I have set upon France.'"^ The calm 
 tone, the imperturbable sang-froid with which Bonaparte 
 recounted the massacre of so many of the unhappy 
 citizens of Paris, roused my indignation. " These light 
 skirmishes," said he, " are but the first coruscations of 
 my glory." 
 
 "Ah," said 1, "if you are to acquire glory at such a 
 price, I would much rather count you among the victims." 
 Pichegru was present at this conversation. It soon passed 
 
 I At another period, Bonaparte, speaking of the affair of the 
 13th Vendemiaire, expressed himself very nearly in the same 
 manner ; and in the midst of a recital he gave of that event, he 
 let fall these remarkable words; "I took care to let the insurrec- 
 tionary troops have the streets which best enabled them to save 
 themselves, and gain the Boulevards."
 
 138 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to another subject, and the thoughtful and reserved manner 
 of the latter general sufficiently showed that he did not 
 applaud the terrible hopes which this ambitious young 
 man entertained. Each one of the company then expressed 
 himself freely, and the news of the day was discussed 
 without reserve. " Have you heard," said a deputy, " the 
 news from the Faubourg St. Germain? A general -of - 
 division has been appointed to the command of the army 
 
 of the Rhine. A , a superior officer, is to replace 
 
 S , and it is rumoured that a new army will soon be 
 
 directed towards Italy." 
 
 Bonaparte showed some surprise ; he was then ignorant 
 that he was to be called by the Directory to fill the last 
 important post. 
 
 " It is a vast field to cultivate," exclaimed the child 
 of victory ; " happy is the man who shall undertake it ! " 
 but immediately recovering himself, as if he had com- 
 mitted an indiscretion, he said, in a tone full of politeness : 
 " Ladies, I do not think my stay in France will be much 
 prolonged ; I want to undertake a pilgrimage to our Lady 
 of Loretto,'" and added with a smile, " my purpose shall 
 be to make you stare at my wonders." He hardly knew 
 how to get out of such a strange dilemma ; the rest of the 
 company joked him about his projects, and the time passed 
 off rapidly and agreeably. 
 
 At the moment of leaving, however, he repeated, " I 
 am a stranger to all the crimes of the French Revolution ; 
 pray regard me as merely a soldier of the 13th of Vende- 
 miaire (62). I planned and executed a wise and complicated 
 manoeuvre, but I was forced to employ a little artifice ; 
 it was not a war of tactics, but of extermination ; some 
 victims were required ; I could only diminish their number. 
 Besides, the great men who signalise themselves in re-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE • 139 
 
 volutions must never abandon their work until it is 
 finished and consolidated, for there will always be found 
 enough who are secretly ambitious to overthrow the moral 
 edifice which good men erect. I have from my youth 
 adopted the maxim that, ' He who is afraid of being deceived 
 can tiever be sufficiently on his guard : for he is often the most so 
 vihen he is entrapped.' '" 
 
 Party spirit never discovers any obstacles, and preju- 
 dice adopts at once whatever flatters it, without calculation 
 and without reflection.^ 
 
 Such was the line of conduct which Bonaparte ap- 
 peared to prescribe to himself. Time alone could show 
 whether this young lover of glory would have the good 
 luck, and, above all, the power, to chain it to his car, 
 
 I was of the number of privileged persons who com- 
 posed the society of the directors ; I always had some 
 favour to ask for unfortunate emigrants ; I went daily to 
 plead their cause at the palace of the Luxembourg. 
 
 Among them Barras was the most easy of approach. 
 The next day after my first, and too famous, meeting with 
 Bonaparte, this director said to me : " I am about to 
 propose to you, madam, something to your advantage. 
 For a long time you have thought only of the business 
 of others ; it is time you should be occupied about your 
 own. I want to make you marry the little Bonaparte, 
 whom I have just got appointed general-in-chief, and to 
 whom I have given the business of conquering Italy." I 
 
 I When the political machine has got out of order, it takes ages 
 so to refit and arrange its parts as to make it move on with order and 
 regularity. Thousands of men must perish before anj-one will be 
 found adroit enough, powerful enough, or politic enough to give to 
 everything a regular movement. 'Tis only when men become tired of 
 cutting each other's throats that they acknowledge their past opinions 
 were but chimeras, and their vehemence a scourge.
 
 140 . SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was surprised at the proposal ; it by no means met my 
 approbation. " Do you really think of that ? " said I to 
 the director; "your project is inconceivable." — "Pray, 
 reflect upon it," replied Barras ; " I give him a new- 
 country to conquer ! Bonaparte will easily, and in a short 
 time, make his fortune there ; he has the Italian character, 
 and is, of course, ambitious ; he burns to acquire a great 
 military reputation. In marrying you he will gain a name 
 in society, and on your part you will find in him a support. 
 Don't doubt it, madam, this young Corsican will rise high, 
 especially if he shall be so fortunate as to associate himself 
 with so good and so amiable a woman as you. I know that 
 this man has all the public and private qualities to render 
 him worthy of you ; he has not a single fault which can 
 give rise to a reasonable objection ; good-humour, manners, 
 talents, character, reputation — he possesses all that the 
 heart of a woman can desire." — " All that the heart of a 
 woman should fear," I replied. — ■'■'■Fear, and why?" said 
 Barras, and the director pointed out a thousand subjects 
 of brilliant hope. 
 
 But, as yet, the warrior who could accomplish them had 
 not produced the least favourable impression on my mind. 
 I discovered in him a tone of assurance and exaggerated 
 pretension which injured him greatly in my estimation. 
 The more I studied his character the more I discovered the 
 oddities for which I was at a loss to account ; and at length 
 he inspired me with so much aversion that I ceased to fre- 
 quent the house of Madame Chat Ren , where he 
 
 spent his evenings. We met several times at Tallien's ; 
 the more I sought to avoid his presence the more he 
 seemed to multiply himself in my way. I mentioned it 
 confidentially to Madame Tallien, and what was my surprise 
 to hear her say: "Josephine! listen to my secret. I my-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I4I 
 
 self chose a husband from gratitude, but his kind attentions 
 to me, and the ascendency which I have been able to exert 
 over him, would make me unworthy of myself should I 
 listen to the voice of ambition. I shall not mention the 
 source of the ambitious schemes which have been spread 
 before me, so foreign to my principle ; suffice it to inform 
 you that the persons who appear to interest themselves in 
 my welfare advise me to quit the man who has bound me to 
 his fortunes, and to attach myself to those of the modern 
 Chevert (63). I am so devoted to you that I must urge you 
 to accept the offer you have received. One of two things 
 you may be assured of: you will be sincerely attached to 
 the general recommended by Barras, which will certainly 
 be a piece of personal good luck ; or your attachment to 
 him will not be sincere, in which case your children and 
 yourself will at least partake of the advantages which 
 the brilliant career he is destined to run must secure ; 
 and thus a sense of gratitude on your part will supply 
 that of friendship." 
 
 Such advice as this, though I was far from expecting it 
 from the woman I so much respected, necessarily led to 
 serious reflections. The idea of marrying a man whose 
 enterprising character was already so manifest made me 
 fearful for the future ; and yet, when I thought of the bene- 
 fits which might result to my children, every personal con- 
 sideration vanished. An agreeable dream would sometimes 
 bring to my ears the voice of my Eugene, calling for a 
 protector. So long had I lived alone and in widowhood, 
 deprived of every hope, that in entering into a new union I 
 fondly imagined that adulation, homage and pleasures would 
 attend my path. This illusion rendered me, for a moment, 
 happy indeed : — Last a while, fond dream ! Why canst 
 thou not endure always ?
 
 142 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 But I still argued against Madame Tallien's project, 
 though so feeble were the objections I opposed to her 
 solid reasonings that Bonaparte's assiduities began to be 
 less displeasing to me. I began even to discover a kind of 
 charm in his conversation ; by degrees my heart yielded, 
 and I consented, at length, to marry the hero who was one 
 day to conquer so many nations. 
 
 Under a placid exterior I concealed a soul full of life 
 and devotion to a loved object, but I felt a sort of pride in 
 fully assuring myself of the reality of the attachment of a 
 man who evinced nothing but the tenderest regard for me ; 
 and thus I carefully concealed my purpose from all my 
 
 friends, even from Madame Chat Ren , Often did 
 
 that amiable and witty ^ woman hazard to my face many 
 adroit and searching questions, the real object of which was 
 to penetrate my thoughts ; but, for the present, I merely 
 manifested satisfaction at meeting Bonaparte. I was then 
 in the habit of visiting the most distinguished families of 
 the nobility. The most of them, although despoiled of 
 their titles, seemed not to have fallen from the rank they 
 had once occupied. 
 
 They still rigorously observed the rules of etiquette 
 in the salons. I hesitated to let them know that I had 
 promised to unite my lot with that of the vanquisher 
 of the sections ; such a disclosure would have deeply 
 
 I I never saw a face more calm, or one which so perfectly realised 
 the idea of an angelic being. She was seldom merry, but a pleasant 
 smile was ever on her lips, and gave to her mouth a most graceful 
 charm. Certainly, a woman might be prettier, but not handsomer. It 
 would be difficult, indeed, to unite in the same person a greater number 
 of those qualities which captivate the heart without disturbing the 
 senses. She was a combination of ingenuousness, sharpened by wit 
 and good-humour ; a calm tenderness, a secret spell impossible to be 
 resisted, breathed through all she said or did. — (Portrait of Madame 
 Chat Ren , by Josephine's oivn hand.)
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I43 
 
 wounded my self-love, and subjected me to their re- 
 proaches, and so well did I dissemble the fact, that I 
 escaped that humiliation. 
 
 I myself sent to Bonaparte the letter from the Direc- 
 tory, offering him the command of the army of Italy (64). 
 The title of general-in-chief flattered his vanity ; he saw 
 himself at once invested with full power to direct all 
 the military operations of that army, and already believed 
 himself, like Gengis-Khan, called by his star to establish 
 a universal monarchy.' 
 
 He had but a few days to make his preparations for 
 crossing the Alps; and, two days before his departure, 
 he received the title of my husband. " Yes, madam," 
 said he, " I swear to you, that I will be a second father 
 to your children, and you shall never repent of the choice 
 you have deigned to make. I devote to the execration 
 of posterity the one of us who shall be first to sunder 
 the bands which unite us, woven not only by esteem 
 and friendship, but by love." And, as if he wished to 
 prove he was not ignorant that he owed to me his appoint- 
 ment to the command of the army of Italy, he said, on 
 taking leave : " Josephine, I owe you much, but I will 
 either lose my head, or the world shall one day see me 
 greater than it now expects." I then received his vows, 
 which strengthened my own, and for a moment believed 
 myself the happiest of womankind. 
 
 This marriage produced a lively sensation in Paris. 
 Many persons disapproved of it, and my own family ex- 
 pressed some murmurs and complaints, and indeed my 
 only consolation was that which Tallien and his lady 
 lavished upon me. 
 
 I " Promote him," said a certain general to the Directory, " or he 
 will promote himself without you ! "
 
 144 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Bonaparte left me an honourable title and a delicious 
 abode at his residence (65), where I saw constantly the 
 best company. I was visited by deputies and generals, 
 but politics were banished from that circle, in which 
 there reigned a prudent circumspection, which excluded 
 from among us all that could give umbrage to authority. 
 
 The victories of Bonaparte were themes of conver- 
 sation ; each courier that arrived confirmed them (66) ; 
 already had he conquered at Montenotte, Millesimo, Dego, 
 and Mondovi. The ramparts of Milan were already in 
 sight of his army, and thousands of brave men were 
 ready to mount and pass them. Bonaparte became 
 master of Milan. The bulletins came so rapidly, that 
 nothing was talked of but the general of the arjny of 
 Italy. ^ He wrote me often, and in his letters entreated 
 me to come and grace his triumphs. I felt impatient to 
 see him, our meeting would be so welcome. 
 
 Three months had scarcely passed since my union 
 with this extraordinary man, and he had already sur- 
 passed all his rivals in glory. 
 
 On receiving the news of the brilliant action at the 
 bridge of Lodi, where the French troops covered them- 
 selves with glory, orders were given to hasten my de- 
 parture. 
 
 In imagination, I was sketching that beautiful Italy 
 which I was about to visit ; it was a series of enchantments ; 
 I wanted to make a drawing of every landscape I saw, 
 such was my admiration of the beauty of natural scenery. 
 In passing the long chain of mountains uniting the Alps, 
 my heart beat with violence ; the sight of objects so new 
 to me, the purity of the atmosphere, the richness and 
 
 I The army of Italy was insignificant when Bonaparte received 
 the command of it from the Directory. — Note by Josephinji.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I45 
 
 variety of the scenery, elevated my soul, and awakened 
 all my enthusiasm. 
 
 At length I saluted that land whose charms afterwards 
 cost my son so many tears. I espied the Borromean 
 Islands.^ The dome of Milan appeared to me the finest 
 and most magnificent temple in the universe. I addressed 
 a fervent prayer to the God of my fathers for the prosperity 
 of my husband and my children. 
 
 My reception by the victorious general was enthusiastic. 
 He had excited so much admiration throughout Lombardy, 
 that his wife could not fail to awaken a lively curiosity 
 among the Milanese, of whom he was the idol (67). 
 
 The conqueror was quietly enjoying his triumphs, and 
 the invincible army forgot, in this new Capua, the dangers 
 and fatigues of the war. For my own part, I received my 
 share of the public homage, but I remarked at the time, 
 that so strong was the preference among men of influence 
 in favour of a republic,- that it was almost impossible to 
 make them adopt any other form of government. Bona- 
 parte constantly flattered them with a promise of a 
 constitution, and a decree of the Directory uniting them 
 to the " great nation." 
 
 The project was adopted, but it was easy to see that 
 they would endeavovir to shake off" the yoke which the 
 conqueror sought to impose upon them ; for it was per- 
 fectly clear that the Italians would prefer to govern 
 
 1 A cluster of small islands in Lago Maggiore, continental Sardinia 
 
 2 The Italian patriots had composed a republican hymn, in imitation 
 of the Marseillaise, which was sung at their theatres, in the camp, and 
 in the clubs, the refrain of which was — 
 
 " Del despotico portere 
 
 Ite al favio ivi qui editti ; 
 Son del nomo primi dritti, 
 Tonalianza e liberta." 
 
 VOL. I ID
 
 146 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 themselves. Had the general known how to avail himself 
 of this happy disposition of the Italians, he might have 
 worn the iron crown of the Lombards long before he did. 
 All the neighbouring states seemed to rise simultaneously 
 at his voice. The name of the chief who had conquered 
 Leghorn was a talisman of marvellous power. 
 
 In less than two months this new Hannibal was at 
 the gates of the capital of the Estates of the Church ; 
 they would have been opened to the French had Bonaparte 
 willed it ; for Rome but awaited him like another Numa, 
 and was ready to submit humbly to his authority. I 
 enjoyed and exercised a great influence over the mind of 
 the general ; I called his attention to the enormous 
 difference that existed between the Romans of the 17th 
 and 1 8th centuries and the Latins who founded the queen 
 of cities, and became the masters of the world. The 
 standard of the Cross had taken the place of that of the 
 great Pompey; the tranquillity of the pontifical government 
 had, for nearly two thousand years, depressed the courage 
 of the descendants of Romulus. Pope Pius VI. was, of 
 course, frightened at the progress of the French troops 
 towards his territory. He saw them already besieging the 
 Vatican, and the prince of the Church had reason to fear 
 being shut up within the ramparts of St. Angelo. 
 
 Had Bonaparte followed his original plan, he would 
 have been constrained to exercise this cruel law of war. 
 Nevertheless, he would not flatter a prince whose throne 
 he had come to overthrow. His instructions were positive. 
 The head of the Catholic faith was liable, at any moment, 
 to receive fetters from the hands of the victor. Perhaps, 
 from a sort of shame, the French Government might have 
 granted him the right of being the spiritual head of a 
 Church rent by schisms ; but it was absolutely determined
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I47 
 
 that he should ratify the civil constitution of the clergy, 
 renounce all his temporal rights, and confine himself 
 exclusively to the duties prescribed by the ritual. Then, 
 by way of compensation, the Directory might perhaps, 
 concede to him the modest title of the ^^ Fivst Bishop of the 
 French Republic . ' ' 
 
 Such were the secret instructions from which the 
 general of a victorious army was not to depart, from the 
 day he should, like another Alaric, enter the Roman 
 states.^ 
 
 My husband endeavoured to soften the rigour of his 
 instructions towards the Pope, and I am certain that I 
 contributed much to that act of generosity. " I cannot " 
 (wrote Bonaparte to the Pope) " hold any kind of nego- 
 tiation with you, unless you consent on the spot to the 
 most enormous sacrifices. I wish to show the French 
 Government that it is more profitable for them to draw 
 contributions from Italy, than to afflict it with despair 
 and death" (68). 
 
 The Romans of the present time are naturally super- 
 stitious ; the persecutions of Pius VI. alarmed the 
 Catholics ; and the French general, instead of treating 
 with him, was, in fact, preparing for him great resources 
 for the future ; for he proved to the world that an enemy 
 who humbles himself before the French finds them ever 
 ready to lend him a helping hand. 
 
 No sooner had the land of the Tarquins submitted to 
 
 I In order to obtain an armistice (it was signed at Milan), the 
 Pope consented to cede to France the legations of Bologna and 
 Ferrara. He gave up the town and citadel of Ancona, submitted to 
 pay twenty millions, delivered up a hundred objects of art, selected 
 in the museums of Rome, and more than six hundred manuscripts 
 from the library of the Vatican, besides a costly cabinet of medals. 
 
 lO — 2
 
 148 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 our arms, than civil dissensions broke out in the bosom 
 of Romagna. The numerous insurrections extended to 
 Lugo, a considerable town in the legation of Ferrara. 
 The chief Italian cities trembled at our successes ; many 
 of them leagued together, and called upon Marshal 
 Wurmser to defend them. The old general, sure of the 
 support of those warlike people, presented himself before 
 the French lines, and immediately the attack was com- 
 menced at all points. Wurmser attached a sort of glory 
 to being the vanquisher of Bonaparte. 
 
 Their first engagement was a bloody one, and the 
 Austrian general remained master of the field of battle. 
 My husband promised to be avenged ; but, in the interim, 
 it was necessary to provide for the retreat of the French 
 army, a large part of whom had fled in disorder, and 
 were hotly pursued by the Germans. 
 
 A moment sufficed to show the great man his true 
 situation, and to enable him to comprehend it. One 
 false step might have destroyed him for ever. He took 
 one which seemed extraordinary, that of immediately 
 raising the siege of Mantua, and ordering several of his 
 generals to join him at Brescia. 
 
 He could not forgive Marshal Wurmser for having 
 beaten him. Said he to his troops : " This old captain, 
 now more than seventy years old, gives us too much 
 annoyance ; it belongs to you, my braves, to make him 
 repose eternally upon his laurels." 
 
 My husband multiplied himself, so to speak, at every 
 point. At Lonadano, where he went to superintend in 
 person an attack upon an Austrian division which men- 
 aced him, his exertions succeeded beyond all expectation. 
 His presence of mind was wonderful. At length, a stroke 
 of boldness and genius saved the French army. The
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I49 
 
 battle of Castiglioni was one of the most splendid feats 
 of arms that adorn the pages of history. 
 
 This new triumph astonished Italy, and threw into 
 the shade the principal part of Bonaparte's enemies. 
 The first successes of the Austrians had awakened hopes 
 at Cremona, Castel-Maggiore and Ferrara ; the agitators 
 made an appeal to the people, and talked about re-con- 
 quering their liberty ; and while thinking about avenging 
 themselves on their oppressors, they dared insult the 
 French commissioners in the gardens of the Medicis. 
 A civil war was on the point of breaking out. On all 
 sides men were rushing to arms : — " We must," said 
 they, " oppose the carrying away of the master-works 
 of genius, the primary source of our riches and our 
 glory ! " Such was the general cry of the agitators. They 
 trampled under foot the emblems of Liberty and Equality, 
 and while Italy was losing her protecting divinities, the 
 effervescence of the populace was carried to its utmost 
 height. The people shed tears, and were touched with 
 veneration for the antique statues which the victorious 
 hands of the French were taking from their natal soil 
 to enrich our museums at home.' 
 
 Fame had spread the news of these successes of Bona- 
 parte throughout Lombardy (69). 
 
 The malcontents became quiet, and were afraid to pro- 
 voke the vengeance of the conqueror. The most moderate 
 and prudent party, those who were the friends of a consti- 
 
 I Posterity will hardly believe that, in a single campaign, all Italy 
 was conquered ; three armies successively destroyed ; more than fifty 
 colours captured ; 40,000 Austrians forced to lay down their arms ; 
 and that all these wonders were achieved by a general only twenty- 
 seven years old, at the head of a French army of only 30,000 men — 
 [Memoires pour scrviy a Vhistoirc).
 
 150 SECRET MEMOIRS OI- 
 
 tutional liberty and of organic laws, such as could alone 
 ensure the tranquillity of a state, united their efforts to 
 obtain political power, and the Cisalpine Republic was 
 spontaneously proclaimed as the means of putting an end 
 to the reign of anarchy. 
 
 I Avas at Milan during the memorable campaign in 
 which Bonaparte triumphed so completely over Wurmser. 
 "I have," wrote he to me, "beaten him well, but, I assure 
 you, the old marshal was not well served by his officers, 
 and the gold which I managed to distribute to certain fa- 
 vourites did him more hurt than the republican bayonets." 
 
 After the battle of Roveredo, balls and concerts multi- ■ 
 plied to infinity at Milan, whither Bonaparte came for the 
 purpose of celebrating the anniversary of the foundation of 
 the republic. One can hardly form any idea of the pomp 
 and costly luxury of that triumphant ceremony. He had, 
 in some sort, ordered it for the purpose of trying the 
 strength of the Directory, and at the same time making a 
 show of his own power. All the pretty Milanese women 
 were on tiptoe for the honour of being presented to him. 
 He noticed in the great box, or loge, of the Casino de 
 Recreazione a pretty Bolognaise, dressed in the colours that 
 then constituted the universal charm. As she happened 
 to be at my side, I perceived that he made a sign indi- 
 cating his respect for the young stranger ; and to please 
 my husband, I even outdid him in eulogies upon that 
 interesting woman. Her husband had fallen a victim in 
 the late events that had taken place at Modena. He 
 was a member of the regency, and was now in prison 
 for his political offences; she had come to me to intercede 
 with Bonaparte for his liberation. She finally obtained 
 it, but upon a condition. Her father was all-powerful 
 at Bologna ; Bonaparte exacted that the tricolour flag
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I5I 
 
 should be immediately raised upon the citadel of that 
 town, and that a republic, like that of Milan, should be 
 instituted without delay. 
 
 He was full of gaiety for several days. He received 
 with marks of respect several Milanese girls, who came 
 to present him with an elegant basket, the devices and 
 emblems on which rendered it a beautiful ornament. I 
 was charged with the duty of making his acknowledg- 
 ments for this homage. At the same time, he forbade 
 the admission to his presence of a certain terrestrial 
 divinity who had ridden through the city elevated on a 
 car, in the midst of shouts of " Viva la republica francese ! " 
 "Ladies," said he, with an air of good-nature, on returning 
 to the palace, " to-day is the day for making calls among 
 the Milanese. Liberty should not go out of her temple, 
 and consequently the Goddess of Reason will remain veiled 
 in the midst of these laughing children of Momus." 
 
 The French general was in the habit of thus charm- 
 ing away his leisure moments ; but he soon became tired 
 of what he called his inaction, and returned to his camp 
 in the midst of his soldiers. His presence electrified and 
 aroused them to confront new perils.^ Meanwhile, sedi- 
 tious movements took place at Ferrara, Bologna and 
 Modena. The inhabitants of the last - mentioned city 
 made a hasty attempt to rebuild their feeble ramparts. 
 Bonaparte appeared in their midst like a thunderbolt ; 
 overthrew its ancient government, and established another, 
 and ordered that all the principal places should unite to- 
 
 I Csesar, observing that all the pikes of his soldiers emitted sparks, 
 did not stop to enquire the cause of the phenomenon, but immediately 
 exclaimed, "Forward! Heaven promises us the victory!" Thus does 
 a man of genius make every circumstance contribute to the end he 
 has in view — (Esprit de Aladame Necker).
 
 152 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 gether by a firm league. Proclamations were then circu- 
 lated throughout Italy, in which Bonaparte openly censured 
 the agents of civil discord. " My honour," said he, " will 
 be tarnished in the eyes of the French nation, should I 
 not put a stop to the disorders which subsist among you. 
 I am the enemy of villains and the robbers who lead 
 them. I will shoot those who attempt to overthrow social 
 order, and are born only to be the opprobrium and curse 
 of society. Whatever may be your opinions, no one 
 shall be judged but by due process of law ; but property 
 must be everywhere respected." 
 
 Bonaparte, it will be seen, endeavoured to overthrow 
 those popular despots who had taken the place of the 
 regencies. But, unhappily, the Revolution had, as a 
 certain distinguished democrat once said, already begun 
 to make the tour of the world. 
 
 It had introduced into Europe a new order of things, 
 and sundered all the bands which had united civiHsed 
 nations. The people had got tired of so many divergences 
 from the old way, and quietly waited for the result of 
 the dehberations of their new Cortes. In many re- 
 spects, Bonaparte vigorously seconded the projects of 
 the Directory, and his heart was filled with vengeance 
 from the time of the taking of Leghorn. In opening 
 communications with the country of his birth, he gratified 
 ancient resentments ; he determined to prevent Paoli from 
 assuming the title of Viceroy of Corsica. " It belongs to 
 me and me only," said he, " to be the arbiter of the 
 destiny of my own country," and immediately ordered 
 General Gentili to assist the insurgents, and put the 
 strangers to flight. 
 
 He affected to pity PaoH (70). " He is a great man," 
 said he; "I owe him a debt of gratitude; but that
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I53 
 
 generalissimo might have immortaHsed himself. How 
 came he to trust to the sincerity of the English ? " 
 
 In seeking protection at the hands of those lucky 
 islanders, he despaired of his country's safety, and 
 imposed on her a new Theodore (71). " This is enough ; 
 I now feel myself released from all obligation towards 
 him. I mean to force him, in accelerating the fall of 
 Elliott, to demand a second time an asylum among the 
 enemies of the Continent. This man shall live as an 
 outlaw, who for a time affected to live as a sovereign." 
 Such was his language to the Directory, announcing to 
 them the fact that the tricolour flag had taken the place 
 of the British ensign. 
 
 The general, incessantly employed in sustaining the 
 glory of the French name, pushed with vigour the siege 
 of Mantua, where Wurmser was shut up. Not that he 
 feared the field -marshal Alvinzi, who had the command 
 of the Austrian army ; but he had lost ground, and 
 feared that the enemy, by concentrating his forces, might 
 attack him and gain some advantage. He consulted 
 Augereau. The two heroes of Lodi met, and the inter- 
 view aroused the courage of the soldiers. Though Fortune 
 then seemed inconstant, the exhortations of the chiefs 
 awakened the courage of the troops ; they rushed to 
 their standards, and marched against the enemy. In 
 vain did the new recruits falter before the enemy's 
 batteries, that vomited death amidst their ranks ; in 
 vain did they seek to fly and get out of their line — 
 they were carried on in spite of themselves, and forced 
 to reap the laurels of Areola. 
 
 In that action even the bravest lost courage, and 
 seemed to despair ; but Augereau, the intrepid Augereau, 
 rushed forward, and planted the rallying sign at the
 
 154 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 extremity of the bridge ; the enemy's batteries redoubled 
 their fire, and now the cries of the wounded and dying 
 rang in the ears of Bonaparte. Consulting only his 
 courage, anxious to imitate the noble example of 
 Augereau, he exclaimed : " Soldiers ! are you not the 
 conquerors of Lodi ? The enemy is but two steps off; 
 rush through this trifling space, and victory is ours ! " 
 And with the word he advanced — he rushed forward, 
 and, for the moment, seemed to overawe the enemy, 
 who had just made a sortie. The tricolour flag met 
 their eyes ; but, alas ! our best generals were already 
 among the dead or wounded ; death had mown down 
 the i'lite of the brave ; it had visited every rank, and 
 the field of battle resounded with the groans of French- 
 men crushed by the bolt. 
 
 My husband was touched by the situation of the 
 division under his immediate command, which was most 
 exposed to the enemy's fire, and when he saw General 
 Lannes^ fall, who was his intimate friend, anguish was 
 depicted in his every feature. In a moment he himself, 
 carried back by the retiring ranks of the French, was 
 thrown into a ditch ; and but for the rare devotedness 
 of a common soldier, who came to his aid and rescued 
 him from a heap of wounded who lay wedged together 
 around him, there would have been an end of the new 
 destinies which he was preparing for Europe. 
 
 His reputation was naturally augmented by this famous 
 action. He might have spared the blood of his troops, had 
 he been so disposed, and his friends even advised him to 
 turn the Austrian position, persuaded that he would thus 
 
 I Lannes was wounded at Rivoli, and killed at the battle of Aspern, 
 in 1809. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 155 
 
 be able to obtain an advantage. But, unhappily, this 
 thunderbolt of war was fond of shining deeds ; he well 
 knew the impetuosity of the French youth. "With such 
 legions," said he, " I shall easily carry by force whatever 
 position I will; " and the sHght check experienced at Rivoli 
 was soon retrieved. 
 
 My husband sent nie a courier from Bergama ; he 
 seemed uninformed of the complaints daily made against 
 him by the Directory. They accused him of disregarding 
 their authority, by treating with sovereigns without con- 
 sulting them, as if such a pusillanimous Government could 
 not be easily eluded. " Whenever I wish," said he to me, 
 " I shall have a majority of the French people against them. 
 A principality has been offered me ; the House of Austria 
 is anxious to put an end to the tribute I have imposed upon 
 Lombardy. She stands in need of such a man as I am ; 
 but I have still loftier views, and I cannot govern in Italy." 
 
 His mind was intent on pursuing his destinies. " I 
 must " (he wrote me) " have the fortress of Mantua ; 
 I must have it, madam, and then the happy Bonaparte, 
 crowned with honours and conquests, will hasten to forget, 
 at your side, the dangers he has encountered." 
 
 This despatch was from Verona, and a few days after- 
 wards the news of the victory of Rivoli quieted my anxiety, 
 and reanimated my hopes. This is what he told me : " I 
 am going to triumph over General Alvinzi ; I shall be 
 master of all Italy, and feel certain of extending my con- 
 quests to the last boulevard remaining to the Austrians. 
 Still, I have some fears. But, Dolus an virttis quis in Jwstc 
 requirat ? " ^ 
 
 I " In fighting an enemy, who cares whether it be by courage or 
 fraud ? ' '
 
 156 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 This letter was sent me at the moment I had received 
 news from France, reveahng to my mind the certainty of 
 my husband's approaching ruin. By means of a faithful 
 agent, I enabled him to foresee it, and urged him to attempt 
 a bold stroke. He instantly put an end to the armistice, 
 laid a snare for the field-marshal, and compelled him, in 
 some sort, to go and defend his humbled honour before his 
 natural judges. He was accused of treason, but was only 
 unlucky. Bonaparte having gained over one of his counsel- 
 lors, he was drawn into that state of false security which 
 left the French general a few moments of time to adjust 
 his affairs. This was enough to produce his accusation. 
 The Emperor showed himself more just than his enemies, 
 and made him commander - in - chief of the army of 
 Hungary. 
 
 The Nestor of the Austrian army was shut up in 
 Mantua, where, for eight months, he had kept in check 
 a large part of the French army. 
 
 The numerous sorties had cost each side thousands of 
 men. Bonaparte saw himself compelled to pause for a 
 time before this obstacle ; but from the succinct accounts 
 furnished him by his secret agents in the town, respecting 
 its situation, he found out that a horrible famine and a 
 pestilential disease were daily making the most terrible 
 ravages, and that the marechal must, from motives of 
 mere humanity, soon capitulate. On this occasion the 
 conqueror showed himself generous. The conditions he 
 imposed were honourable to the illustrious warrior, who 
 had forced his way through the Caudine Forks. Bona- 
 parte knew that numbers of French emigrants were shut 
 up in the city. He wanted to save them, but was at a 
 loss for the means. I counselled him as follows : " Give 
 General Wurmser, if necessary, a hundred or two chariots,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I57 
 
 and give the formal order that they shall not be visited. 
 By this ingenious expedient you will save the lives of the 
 unhappy outlaws, who will one day thank you for it, and 
 see in you a liberator. Endeavour to impose upon the 
 Directory as to your real intentions ; and rely upon it, 
 posterity, more just than they, more just than your ad- 
 visers, will applaud your moderation." 
 
 An aide-de-camp was immediately sent as a courier, 
 by whom this confidential despatch was delivered to the 
 Austrian general at the moment he had assembled his 
 council of war, to deliberate upon the best means of ob- 
 taining an honourable capitulation. 
 
 Having become master of the superb Mantua, Bona- 
 parte found there immense wealth ; the spoils of the 
 vanquished became the prey of the victors, who divided 
 them amongst themselves. The Directory received the 
 better part of them ; the captured colours were all sent 
 home, and were the occasion of brilliant and continual 
 festivities at Paris. 
 
 The deputies strove with each other to contrive the 
 honours to be decreed to Bonaparte. One of them pro- 
 posed to give him the surname of Italicns. The public 
 joy was at its height, and the French people again be- 
 lieved themselves safe. 
 
 Bonaparte then came and passed a few days with me. 
 I was happy in his attachment and confidence. During 
 his absence I had been alternately at Pavia, Cremona, 
 and other places, and conversed with his friends on 
 subjects relating to him. I had contributed not a little 
 to stimulate their zeal in repelling the Tyrolese, who 
 had had the audacity to present themselves at the gates 
 of Milan. Much agitation prevailed in that city, but such 
 was my ascendency over the Italians, that neither the
 
 158 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 clergy nor nobility dared receive them, and the people 
 themselves, whom I had taken care to conciliate by 
 presents, remained tranquil, and kept about their usual 
 labours. Bonaparte thanked me for the manner in which 
 I had watched over his interests. " At another time, 
 madam," said he, " I shall be able, without any 
 fear, to entrust you with the government of a state. 
 Make a vow that your husband shall arrive at supreme 
 power; then, Josephine," added he with a smile, "I will 
 let you have a deliberate voice in my councils ; but as 
 for the key to my treasures, you shall never have 
 that." 
 
 I had scattered the evidences of my goodwill with 
 some profusion, and my customary expenses had in- 
 creased. At this he seemed surprised, but I soon con- 
 vinced him that in our present situation his wife ought, 
 in some sort, to eclipse the Courts of the sovereigns who 
 were at war with the French Republic. 
 
 He appreciated my observations, but did not the less 
 chide me for what he called my prodigalities. 
 
 He then showed me the orders he had received from 
 the Directory, by which he was required to treat the 
 Pope as a common enemy of the French nation, and to 
 overthrow the pontifical power ; and while I was en- 
 deavouring to make known to him my ideas on that 
 subject, he said: "It costs me much thus to disturb 
 Pius VI. I by no means desire to carry off from the 
 ancient capitol the statues of the murderers of Caesar, 
 and yet I must, if possible, obey and execute a part of 
 my instructions." 
 
 General Victor was already on the march towards the 
 Roman states, and Bonaparte followed after him. " We 
 are," said the latter, "about to take possession of Faenza,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 1 59 
 
 Forli and Ceseno, one after the other. Will you be of 
 the party, Josephine, or are you still afraid of the sound 
 of cannon ? (72). 'Tis music to a good soldier, and the 
 wife of a French general owes it to his example never to 
 tremble before the enemy's fire." Such was his language 
 to me, and we started off post-haste for Imola, which he 
 entered at the head of his army, surrounded by a brilliant 
 staff. 
 
 On seeing Cardinal Chiaramonti (at present Pius VII.), 
 I could not repress a feeling of respect. That venerable 
 prelate prostrated himself at Bonaparte's feet. The general 
 raised him with perfect politeness, and surrounded him 
 with his guard. The worthy archbishop supplicated 
 him to spare the town, and offered him his palace. 
 " Everything is your own," said the pontiff to the general ; 
 "a servant of God must consent to give up his worldly 
 wealth whenever it can purchase life or liberty for his 
 beloved brethren in Jesus Christ." I besought Bona- 
 parte to show himself generous, and was delighted to 
 observe that he relented. 
 
 He promised to protect the town, and took away only 
 the plate, jewels and diamonds which were found in the 
 bishop's palace. " 'Tis the law of war," said he, on seeing 
 me afflicted by the incident, " 'tis the law of war — woe 
 wait upon it ! — but be quiet, Josephine ; I have only taken 
 away some superfluities which he may well spare ; I have 
 reduced him to the simplicity of the Apostles, and the 
 good cardinal will one day thank me for it — besides, I 
 am only seeking the good of his soul in all this, and, 
 by way of revenge, the martyrology of Rome will one 
 day rank him, for his noble disinterestedness, among the 
 number of Holy Confessors" (73). 
 
 Marmont sent to Bonaparte the "Madonna" which he
 
 l6o SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had taken from Loretto (74), and the general sent it to 
 the Directory, but retained some other valuable relics.^ 
 
 He jokingly offered to make me a present of one of 
 the three broken porringers which had formed part of the 
 household stuff of the Virgin, which I refused. Always 
 filled with respect for Religion, I would not countenance 
 the larcenies which were committed in her temples, and 
 I often succeeded in persuading my husband to restore 
 to the Italian churches the sacred vessels which had 
 been carried off. 
 
 Sustained by the valour of his troops, Bonaparte soon 
 made himself master of Romagna, of the duchy of Urbin 
 and the marche of Ancona. Nothing could stay the 
 tide of his conquests. Garlands of oak and civic crowns 
 waited to adorn his triumph. Rome was filled with con- 
 sternation ; everybody trembled at the approach of the 
 invincible legions and fled in dismay ; the shadows of 
 night favoured the escape of the fugitives. The Pope's 
 household abandoned him, and Pius VI. remained sur- 
 rounded by a few servants only, who continued faithful 
 to his person. Most of the cardinals fled to Naples, 
 and of this number was the celebrated Maury. In such 
 an extremity what should the head of an afflicted Church 
 do ? — await the terms which the conqueror might impose 
 upon him ? Should he have made an open resistance ? 
 Ought he even to have launched against him the 
 thunders of the Vatican ? No, the venerable chief of 
 the Catholic religion will take the wisest course. He 
 
 I Among these relics was a piece of old watered-camlet, which was 
 represented to him as having been the robe of the Virgin Mary. He 
 gave it to Josephine, who had it enclosed in a medallion. Without 
 attaching much importance to it, she regarded it as a monument of 
 antiquity.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE l6l 
 
 wished to save the people of whom Providence had 
 made him the sovereign. As to himself, he shunned 
 no sacrifice ; he made himself an offering ; he threw 
 himself upon the generosity of the conqueror. Cardinals 
 Mattei (75) and Gallopi, the Duke of Braschi and the 
 Marquis of Massino, hastened to the general's head- 
 quarters with a secret despatch from the Holy Father. 
 Bonaparte pretended that he could not depart from his 
 instructions, and even increased his pretensions. 
 
 His army was not more than three days' march from 
 Rome, but, faithful to the plan I had persuaded him to 
 adopt, he consented to slacken his march. His answer 
 to the Holy Father was full of modesty and magna- 
 nimity (76). He seemed touched by the fate of the 
 conquered monarch, and the propositions made on each 
 side were soon reciprocally accepted with apparent sin- 
 cerity. No one could then have anticipated that this 
 noble conduct of my husband would have exposed him 
 to the most bitter reproaches from the Directory. 
 
 Our ever victorious legions did not enter the city of the 
 Caesars (77), but contented themselves with receiving its 
 submission. Nothing was then wanting to the glory of 
 their chief. He was adored by his soldiers, and the Roman 
 clergy entertained for him a kind of religious veneration. 
 They regarded him as a protecting angel, and from that 
 time forth he began to lay the foundations of his immense 
 power, and to conciliate the favour of the head of the 
 Church. By cementing an alliance with the anti-repub- 
 hcan faction, he took a step entirely opposite to that which 
 had been before adopted by the generals who had com- 
 manded the French armies. 
 
 If he plundered the Madonna (78), and some relics 
 consecrated by religion and their antiquity, he did so to 
 
 VOL. I II
 
 l62 SECRET MEMOIRS OE 
 
 hide from the view of the too inquisitive, his real designs 
 upon Italy and the Roman provinces.^ 
 
 Our sojourn in the cities of Mantua and the Tyrol was 
 constantly marked by some new triumph, in which I should 
 sincerely have taken part but for my utter disrelish of the 
 incense of adulation, for which no woman ever felt greater 
 disgust. Bonaparte was intoxicated with it.^ " I am 
 resolved," said he to me, " to be the great regulator of 
 the destinies of Europe, or the first citizen on the globe. 
 I feel myself capable of overturning all, even to the New 
 World ; and then the universe will receive the law from 
 my hands. Then will I make the cowards tremble who 
 would force me to quit my country." Thus reasoned the 
 French general after having triumphed three times over 
 the Germans, put an end to that bloody war by the Treaty 
 of Leoben, and caused to be acknowledged the indepen- 
 dence of a republic in Lombardy. 
 
 I was the depository of his confidence ; but he observed 
 with attention my slightest movements, and penetrated my 
 most secret thoughts. On all occasions, I took care that 
 my opinions should appear to be the result of his own. 
 Our feelings, tastes, inclinations were the same ; the 
 
 1 Bonaparte used to say to his principal officers ; " During my 
 campaign in Italy, the Directory kept up a great clamour against me. 
 They tried remonstrances ; I sent them Madonnas of massive silver ; 
 they became silent and my army pushed ahead. After my victories, 
 the different factions that agitated France came and knocked at my 
 door. I turned them a deaf ear, for it was not at all to my taste to be 
 the instrument of a party." — " Pensces de Bonaparte." 
 
 2 The great merit of Bonaparte did not consist in his having 
 gained battles, but in having placed himself above other men, in 
 commanding them, attaching them to his fortunes, and interesting 
 them in his successes. Nobody ever knew better than he how to 
 imitate that celebrated Greek who taught his birds to repeat, con- 
 tinually, "Psaphon is a god." — "Memoires pour servir a I'histoire de France."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 163 
 
 same souls seemed to animate our beings, and so well did 
 we seem fitted for each other, that, from the moment of 
 our marriage, our union seemed cemented with all the force 
 and firmness possible to be derived from our different senti- 
 ments. I esteemed myself happy to repay his attachment 
 by the tenderest return. I begged him to repose upon my 
 sincere devotion, and to feign ignorance of what I might 
 one day undertake for his elevation. Justice requires me 
 to say of Bonaparte that his nature was not violent, and 
 that, on those occasions when he could yield to the im- 
 pulses of his heart, he took pleasure in making himself 
 loved for his good deeds ; but ambition and jealousy, those 
 two dangerous passions, are capable of destroying the best 
 natural instincts, and of urging those who are subject to 
 their sway to the most frightful lengths. 
 
 It was at Milan that my feelings received the first 
 wound from his suspicions. 
 
 My reply was : " Unreserved confidence, my friend, is 
 the only bond of true friendship ; believe me, it is as indis- 
 pensable to friendship as to love" (79). 
 
 We remained some time at Bologna (80) ; but I wanted, 
 also, to pass the Apennines and go to Florence. I was 
 not deceived in the picture I had formed of that city, 
 where the front of the Strozzi's palace represents the 
 entire history of the Guelphs and Ghibellines. The ease 
 and politeness of the inhabitants, the smiling aspect of the 
 scenery, the freshness of the promenades along the banks 
 of the Arno, the trees crowned with vines ; happy in- 
 dexes of the fertility of that delicious plain surrounded 
 by gentle declivities — everything conspired to keep me 
 in that country of the gods. "The time will come," 
 said Bonaparte, " when I shall make of this country a 
 brilliant appendage. I intend that one of my own sisters 
 
 II — 2
 
 164 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 shall yet command the ramparts where the Medicis 
 reigned" (81). 
 
 I explored the valley of Vallombrosa. That charming 
 solitude lies hidden in the midst of a forest of fir trees. 
 My husband granted some small favours to the monks 
 of the hospice (82), who are truly useful personages, 
 beacon lights in the midst of a stormy sea, where the 
 wayfarer from every land is received and treated with 
 kindness. It was pleasing to see that they had not de- 
 generated from their primitive character. Their kind 
 offices do much to reconcile one to monastic orders, 
 which, for more than a century past, have found little 
 favour among mankind. The torch of philosophy has 
 never penetrated the Italian cloisters. Its light is inter- 
 cepted by their convent walls, and habit and prejudice 
 are the sentinels that keep a perpetual watch. Those 
 two enemies of reason are more productive of darkness 
 than their rival is of light. 
 
 Bonaparte was received with acclamations by a grate- 
 ful people. He was everywhere hailed as the saviour of 
 Lombardy. I was with him enjoying his glory, without 
 pride of feeling, and aiding him, so far as I could, to 
 sustain an imposing exterior. 
 
 My husband had become apprised that troubles were 
 brewing in the upper provinces. He suddenly left Florence 
 in order to prevent or appease them ; and meanwhile I 
 returned to Milan, where I held my Court. The ceil-de-boeiif 
 of Versailles, so to speak, was upon me in my palace. 
 
 Politics were the constant theme of conversation. 
 Many censured the government of Bonaparte ; some 
 pitied, some conspired against him, and some were 
 friendly to him. Virtues and vices became alike greater 
 than ordinary.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 165 
 
 The Frenchmen could never satisfy themselves in 
 gazing at the charms of the beautiful Milanese. Who 
 can calculate the effects of a deterioration of manners ? 
 The most paltry means, the most despicable intrigues 
 were constantly employed to obtain even a look of kind- 
 ness. I became habituated to this kind of political 
 traffic ! I was acquainted with the great — they are every- 
 where the same. The most of them easily obtained per- 
 mission to remain in the city, and the ablest secretaries 
 speculated upon the last ducat to befriend them. I tried 
 to remedy this abuse, but found it almost impossible, in 
 the present state of things, to reduce the price of pass- 
 ports.^ I used all my efforts to conciliate opinion, and 
 the Italian nobility found in my husband and myself 
 protection and safety. 
 
 Nothing was wanting to my comfort ; but the frequent 
 absences of Bonaparte imposed upon me the necessity 
 of keeping up a perpetual display, and my spirits in 
 constant exercise ; the Milanese, moreover, needed an idol 
 to whom they might offer their incense. The people are, 
 generally speaking, kind, but jealous of their liberties, 
 as are also the great of their prerogatives. By seeming 
 to protect the former and to make some concessions to 
 the latter, I managed to maintain all in tranquillity. By 
 promising them much, they were persuaded to hope for 
 everything. They ascribed to me the greatest influence 
 over Bonaparte, and necessarily became attached to 
 me (83). 
 
 I also protected the clergy, a great part of whom 
 were received with marked respect by the new female 
 
 I They brought more than 3,000,000 francs into the treasury of 
 the General-in-chief.
 
 l66 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sovereign who reigned in that region. In short, the 
 part I acted at Milan enabled me to make many persons 
 happy, and to be so myself. At least, I was happy in 
 appearance, though in my heart I regarded the honours 
 that surrounded me as so many breakers, from which I 
 should have been quite glad to make my escape. 
 
 I was happy, indeed, when I could find an opportunity 
 to divest myself of all fatiguing external pomp, and make 
 an excursion through the charming country lying betwixt 
 Milan and Lodi, and visit the islands in Lago Maggiore.^ 
 But the triumphs of the French army constantly demanded 
 new programmes of fetes and ceremonies. I did the 
 honours on such occasions, and gave the most brilliant 
 balls and concerts. My evenings were regularly spent at 
 play, and on days of public festivity I visited the theatre. 
 
 I The Borromean Islands are, without dispute, the most singular 
 things in Italy. You would suppose they had been formed and embel- 
 lished according to the descriptions of Tasso and Ariosto, or that thev 
 furnished the models for those descriptions. 
 
 At the head of a gulf formed by the lake, are three islands, called 
 St. Charles Islands. The largest is occupied by gardens and terraces, 
 covered with orange trees, citrons and myrtles. The houses in the 
 midst of the ornamented grounds are spacious, having their interiors 
 embellished in the most costly manner. On one side you see the Alps, 
 forming three ranges of mountains, the first in a state of cultivation, 
 the second covered with woods, and the third with snow and ice. 
 
 In the opposite direction the eye surveys an immense expanse of 
 country planted with vines, sprinkled with villages, towns, and cities. 
 The lake itself presents a prospect not less enchanting. The waters 
 are as clear as crystal, and upon them you see great numbers of sail 
 boats, keeping up a constant communication with Switzerland. The 
 road which conducts you hither vies in beauty with the finest in France. 
 Madame Bonaparte's admiration was excited by the remarkable copper 
 statue at Arona, 60 feet high, representing St. Charles Borromeo. The 
 head alone was capacious enough to contain several persons, and the 
 spouse of the general of the army of Italy rested for several minutes on 
 the last step of the stairs, which led up, and terminated exactly in the 
 nose of the holy archbishop who is so much adored in Italy.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 167 
 
 Couriers arrived every forty-eight hours, sometimes pre- 
 ceded by an express. I was of course made acquainted 
 with all the movements of the army, and the principal 
 officers received the bulletins from my hands. I carefully 
 concealed the defeats. It would have been impolitic to 
 acknowledge defeats which were so soon retrieved, and I, 
 moreover, had a firm belief that everything must yield to 
 Bonaparte — that the most invincible difficulties must vanish 
 beneath the steps of a hero who so devoutly idolised glory. 
 My son seemed to be following in his footsteps, and had 
 already distinguished himself in several engagements. As 
 to Hortense, her rapid progress in all the useful and agree- 
 able arts relieved me of much of the pain of being separated 
 from her. 
 
 I had entrusted her to the care of Madame Campan, 
 who had charge of a household of young pupils at St. 
 Germain-en-Laye, whose parents had followed my hus- 
 band's fortunes. 
 
 My daughter soon attracted the attention of her in- 
 structress and companions, by her amiability and rare 
 qualities (84). I was about to set out on a visit to her, and 
 only awaited orders from Bonaparte, who had flattered me 
 with that agreeable idea ; but he now wrote me that, in 
 order to terminate his exploits in Italy, he wanted to 
 subdue the Venetian states, an enterprise already com- 
 menced. 
 
 I well knew that the Five had determined on my 
 husband's removal, and that they were nevertheless much 
 troubled at the idea of his returning to France. "Where," 
 I exclaimed, on first reading M. Batat's^ letter, " where 
 
 I Barras' secretary. Bonaparte was long jealous of him, and 
 Josephine took good care to dissemble the fact that it was by his 
 means she became acquainted with all that took place in the Directory.
 
 l68 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 will they find sicains (assassins) bold enough, and rash 
 enough, to come and announce such a resolution in his 
 camp or at the head of his army ? The soldiers call him 
 their father, and regard him as an extraordinary being. He 
 might, were he so disposed, throw that directorial minority 
 into the shade ; but the project must have time to ripen ; 
 he must merely feign an approval of the plan I intend to 
 submit to him, of the projected elimination of the Directory 
 and the two councils." Such were my secret reasonings, 
 known only to myself. It was, however, plain enough that 
 that shadow of a Government must soon vanish. 
 
 Already was the manifesto against Venice known at 
 Milan. Among other complaints, the Directory reproached 
 the Most Serene Republic with having given refuge to a 
 brother of Louis XVI. and numerous French emigrants in 
 his suite. Soon was the Doge forced to come and humble 
 himself at the feet of the famous conqueror, whose invinci- 
 ble arms threatened to shake all the thrones in Europe. 
 The least sign from the angry Jove was a decree of death 
 to all governments. 
 
 The different proclamations issued by Bonaparte were a 
 kind of amphibologies ; but their real objects were concealed 
 in the Cabinet of the Luxembourg, and that mercenary 
 authority teased him continually to accelerate the ruin of 
 Italy, and share the spoils with them. The directors pro- 
 bably hoped that, in the heat of combat, the deadly lead or 
 the arm of some Seide might disembarrass them of the 
 warrior they feared. While awaiting their triumph, which 
 they regarded as certain by means of a prolongation of the 
 war, our Five were enjoying, in anticipation, the fruits they 
 had expected to reap from the events of the famous i8th 
 Fructidor (85). 
 
 The Venetian states were not slow in making their
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE l6g 
 
 submission. Verona found favour in the eyes of her con- 
 queror,^ and the tricolour flag waved over the Doge's 
 palace, Bonaparte occupied it. *' Come, madam," he 
 wrote me, " come and enjoy the enthusiasm of which I am 
 the object. Come and partake of the good fortune of a 
 Frenchman who is the first, since Pepin, to raise his flag 
 upon the monuments of the first of republics." It was im- 
 possible that the liberators of Italy should not stain their 
 trophies with blood ; the presence of Bonaparte necessarily 
 restored order ; but I could not help sighing over the evils 
 which were always inseparable from his numerous suc- 
 cesses. 
 
 From Padua I came to Venice by the canal of the 
 Brenta, which communicates with the lagoons — a kind of 
 ponds or lakes separated from each other by sand -banks, 
 forming pretty islands. 
 
 Here stands that unique city, the strongest unfortified 
 town known, impenetrable without any defence, and which 
 has given the law to so many of the vanquished, without 
 
 I The city of Verona would have been given up to pillage at this 
 time, but for the powerful intervention of Madame Bonaparte. She 
 despatched several couriers to her husband, beseeching him to respect 
 the sanctuary where an unfortunate outlaw had reposed. "The pre- 
 tender to the throne of France," she wrote him, " found in that city an 
 asylum and protection; you understand me, geneyal." She succeeded in 
 her request ; the inhabitants were released by paying a heavy contribu- 
 tion of 3,600,000 francs. Sundry articles of personal property, de- 
 posited by the most indigent at Mont-de-Piete, were restored to them. 
 Josephine made many but vain efforts in favour of honourable victims 
 who were destined to perish ; of this number was Count Emili. She 
 interceded in vain ; Bonaparte was inflexible. " I am sorry," wrote he 
 to his wife, "but I was compelled for my own safety and that of the 
 army to punish him. He is regretted, and friends and enemies alike 
 mourn his loss. Such an example is always a painful one to him who 
 directs it ; but, in such a case, the good of the whole must prevail over 
 the interests of an individual."
 
 170 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 having ever yet fallen into the hands of a victor. My 
 husband was now its conqueror, and I hastened to pre- 
 sent him with the laurel, the symbol of his new glory.' 
 My presence seemed quite pleasing to the people of 
 Venice. Those grave, illustrious senators, whose fathers, 
 if we are to believe an ancient tradition, descended in 
 the direct Hne from the Adriatic Sea, daily came and 
 gave brilliancy to my Court. Here, as at Milan, fete suc- 
 ceeded fete, and the thunders of Mars did not prevent the 
 opening of the temples of Momus. All the authorities of 
 the Cispadane and Transpadane Republics hastened to 
 Venice (86) to obtain a look at the French Washington. 
 
 I spoke Italian passably, enough, at least, to be able 
 to reply to the compliments made me, and sometimes to 
 the very wearisome speeches with which they honoured the 
 first citoyenne'^ of the French Republic. 'Twas thus they 
 called me. I was in the midst of every kind of diversion, 
 and for some time the carnival furnished new vanities to 
 our Venetian belles (87). I did my best to prolong the 
 deceitful illusion. Bonaparte took advantage of it to pre- 
 pare, as he said, a diplomatic ball which he was going 
 to give to the Genoese. 
 
 Genoa the Proud (88) was then on the point of enjoying, 
 in its turn, a popular sovereignty. That city possessed too 
 much wealth to escape the rapacity of the soldiery. Already 
 
 1 The beauty, the variety, the picturesque views, the deHcious gar- 
 dens along the banks of the Brenta, enchanted me. In this country 
 Nature everywhere presents a perpetual spring. The most magnificent 
 palaces attest the wealth and luxury of their owners ; the feathered 
 inhabitants of this promised land, with their harmonious concerts, wel- 
 come the stranger who comes to breathe the rich perfumes, exhaled 
 from vast fields, almost without cultivation — for along the road leading 
 from Padua and Venice the air is really embalmed. During my travels 
 in Italy I did not find one more agreeable. — Note by Josephine. 
 
 2 A female citizen. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IJl 
 
 had the winds which forebode the tempest been blowing ; 
 the general-in-chief seemed to direct them towards the 
 quarter where he meant to commence the attack. One of 
 his aides-de-camp sent his despatches to the Doge. It was 
 necessary for him to subscribe to the conditions imposed on 
 him. The senate wished to discuss them. There was no 
 time. " I must," said Bonaparte to the Genoese nobles, 
 " republicanise your country, according to the Italian fashion, 
 and that will save it. You are not worthy to enjoy any 
 longer that liberty which the famous Andrew Doria planted 
 among you. No, you are not worthy of it ; you have dared 
 to overthrow the statue of that great man, and you are 
 now ready to relapse into that state of anarchy from which 
 he rescued you. I wish to remain a simple spectator of 
 your civil struggles ; but you must have a government. 
 It belongs to you to choose it, I give you that right ; but 
 I shall not quit you till it is established." 
 
 It was certainly necessary to employ menaces, and an 
 imposing exterior, in order to get the Ligurian Republic 
 recognised. 
 
 Bonaparte, a cunning dissembler, affected to mourn over 
 the fate of this beautiful country, and the misfortunes of 
 those who, no longer finding an asylum or safety among 
 their countrymen, were forced to become wanderers in 
 foreign lands. 
 
 He wished to cure the fever which pervaded the 
 Genoese patriots. That demagogical gangrene must have 
 ended in the gradual destruction of the best citizens. 
 Bonaparte, at this epoch, occupied himself sincerely in 
 laying the foundations of a Continental peace, and con- 
 tributed everything in his power to accelerate that result ; 
 and the Treaty of Campo Formio was wholly his own 
 work. But to have been thus far a great captain was by
 
 172 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 no means enough to satisfy his ambition ; there remained 
 another task for him to fulfil, that of proving himself a good 
 politician and legislator. Such was the art with which 
 he had changed the entire aspect of the countries he had 
 conquered, that Milan, the ancient cradle of monarchy, 
 became, at the will of one man, the seat of a kingly 
 republic ; and Venice, the inheritance of liberty, was on 
 the point of passing under the dominion of haughty 
 Germany. Europe was supposed to be pacified ; people 
 had bowed before the fasces of the French authority, a 
 name which was everywhere respected, although the revo- 
 lutionary crater was about to burst forth anew. 
 
 Bonaparte, master of the destinies of Italy, was about 
 this time informed, by his brother Lucien, that the 
 Directory, jealous of his successes, and persuaded that 
 the briUiancy of his triumphs would make an impression 
 upon the statesmen of Europe, had judged it conducive 
 to their interests to appoint him their first plenipotentiary 
 to the congress about to assemble at Rastadt, to endeavour, 
 according to the protocol, to estabhsh the happiness of 
 nations. 
 
 The general well knew how to gild the chains which he 
 had imposed, with so much good-nature and address, upon 
 those he called his good friends — the ItaHans. From his 
 first campaigns, he never ceased to labour for " glory 
 and for ambition." Such was the motto he adopted, and 
 which he often repeated. 
 
 Some days before our departure for Germany, the 
 city of Milan struck a medal in his honour, and decreed 
 him the title of Italicus. " Thou seest, my friend," said 
 he, presenting it to me; "thou seest this honourable 
 testimonial ; it is given to me by the public favour. 
 Public favour, public favour," he repeated, continually.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I73 
 
 " thou art as light as the zephyr, as inconstant as the 
 seasons — thou wilt pass away like them, and when the 
 north wind blows, thou wilt cease to be seen. As to 
 my deeds," continued he, " it is for the chisel of History 
 to transmit them to our descendants. I, perhaps, shall 
 have lived in an age when, for all these high achieve- 
 ments, I shall reap nothing but silence and oblivion ! " 
 This said, he sank into the most gloo/ny and melancholy 
 reflections. The broken sentences of his soliloquy made 
 me the more sad, for the reason that, a few days before, 
 one of the most influential persons at Milan, the Duke 
 
 de Lit , towards whom Bonaparte had shown a rare 
 
 condescension, had expressed himself very freely in regard 
 to him. He had said, in a privileged casino : " When 
 shall we see this meteor leaving our walls, who, of 
 himself, is able to set all Europe in a flame, and to 
 scatter the sparks of his revolutionary fire to the ends 
 of the earth ? " He left ; he quitted that Lombardy 
 which had been the first theatre of his glory, and which 
 was now the witness of his regrets. In vain did he 
 flatter himself with the idea that he had created several 
 republics, which he supposed invincible. Everything 
 demonstrated that the levity and inconstancy of the 
 people would overthrow his work. 
 
 Wherever he went, rejoicings attended his footsteps. 
 But Bonaparte seemed a stranger to the public joy which 
 his presence inspired at Rastadt. The ministers of the 
 different Powers were presented to him. They considered 
 it both a pleasure and a duty to grace our soirees. No 
 female sovereign ever bore so fine a part as mine then 
 was.^ I was the centre of fashion, the queen of the 
 
 I Madame Bonaparte was a long time in Italy, where she lived 
 like a sovereign ; receiving homage from cities, and presents from
 
 174 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 diplomatic circle. I loved, indeed, to converse with the 
 royal and imperial bees; but used with caution the con- 
 hdence they saw fit to repose in me. I was far from 
 mingling in politics, but left that task to him to whom 
 it belonged, and kept myself strictly within the sphere 
 assigned me. 
 
 Count de Fersen was presented to me ; he was no 
 longer the fine Swede whom I had once seen gracing 
 the Court of Versailles. I found in him but a feeble 
 diplomatist. He even wanted the presence of mind to 
 answer Bonaparte when the latter, in a severe tone, 
 asked him who was the ambassador of his own nation 
 in Paris. On the Count's replying that he " would 
 consult his Court on that subject," the French plenipo- 
 tentiary added: "Tell your master that if he does not 
 change the framework of an old worn-out policy, I will 
 one day send him a good Gascon^ diplomatist who will under- 
 stand how to simplify the machine, and make it work well. 
 King Gustavus will perhaps learn, too late, and to his 
 cost, that the reins of government require a firm hand, and 
 that, while with one hand he grasps them, the other must be 
 ready to use the sword ^vhenever the times demand it.'" 
 
 Thus did my husband permit himself to give lessons 
 to the sovereigns whom he seemed to menace, and pre- 
 served towards the ministers of the foreign Powers an 
 unbending haughtiness of resolution, which he was in 
 the habit of calling " definitive." 
 
 This energy showed to the different monarchs of 
 Europe, that the new Gengis already regarded himself 
 
 the vanquished. She was everywhere the object of public honours ; 
 even Venice, invaded and plundered, gave her magnificent fetes. — 
 " Manoires potty sci'vir a I'ltistoirc." 
 
 I General Bernadotte, afterwards King of Sweden, was a Gascon. 
 — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I75 
 
 as superior to the most of those mortal gods. " Besides," 
 said he to the delegates of the surrounding nations, " do 
 not force me again to enter the Hsts ; the struggle will 
 not be an equal one between a people who have conquered 
 their liberty, and the masters who seek to wrest it from 
 them. If you reject to-day the means of reconciliation 
 which I offer you, to-morrow I will make other conditions 
 — but woe to the one among you who shall refuse my 
 mediation. I will overthrow the whole scaffolding of a 
 false political system, and the throne that rests upon a 
 foundation so feeble will soon be shaken down. I tell 
 you this with the frankness of a soldier, and the allowable 
 pride of a victorious general." Thus he expressed himself 
 in the presence of the assembled plenipotentiaries. He 
 reappeared in France at the moment when all eyes and 
 all hopes centred upon him. 
 
 The Directory had reaped poor wages for the proscrip- 
 tion they had exercised towards two of their members — 
 two most worthy citizens. The revolution of Fructidor, 
 which had exiled new Ciceros from their country, had like 
 to have aroused all parties, and really threw the republic 
 upon the brink of ruin. France, that admirable France, 
 needed an extraordinary genius to heal her wounds. 
 Bonaparte presented himself to the French people with 
 brows bound with laurels, and hand bearing the olive- 
 branch of peace. He seemed animated by a love of the 
 public good ; his warmest partisans believed him in heart 
 and in principle attached to the new doctrines, which 
 breathed the most ultra democracy. J alone divined his 
 real feelings ; before his friend his mask fell ; he was 
 already tired of the part he was playing. When we again 
 met in Paris, whither I had preceded him by several days 
 from Rastadt, he uttered this remarkable sentiment : —
 
 176 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " Remember, madam, that the lucky Bonaparte will 
 never be satisfied until he shall, with you, inhabit a man- 
 sion corresponding to his fame. This little house (in the 
 Rue de Chanteriene) is no longer suitable to the hero of 
 the army of Italy. He must have a palace, and adorn it 
 with the flags taken from the enemies of France.^ 'Tis 
 to you, Josephine, to you alone, I leave the task of de- 
 signing one worthy to be offered to me by the nation I 
 have immortalised, and, at the same time, of the wife 
 whose excellent qualities cannot but adorn it." 
 
 Crowned by the hands of Victory, he laid upon the 
 altar of his country, already prepared to receive them, a 
 portion of the palms he had won. In vain did the feeble 
 Directory, which both admired and feared him, which 
 sought to dissemble its real feelings towards him, but 
 could not conceal him from the eyes of the French 
 people — in vain did the Five seek to eclipse the sun, and 
 to intercept a portion of his rays. Useless efforts ! 
 nothing could cloud him, and that pitiable Government 
 saw itself forced humbly to receive from his hands the 
 Treaty of Campo Formio ; nay, more, to proclaim him 
 the saviour of the country, although they had secretly 
 sworn his destruction. 
 
 Among the just causes of inquietude in France, the 
 wise tactics of the Quintumvirate consisted in artfully 
 spreading bad news. Certain journalists in their pay 
 understood each other perfectly in this matter. At one 
 time they caused it to be placarded in Verona that 
 General Bonaparte was about to cause himself to be pro- 
 claimed Dictator ; at other> times, in some article from the 
 
 I Bonaparte was called the first decorator of France, in allusion 
 to the bon-mot of the great Conde, who said of the Marechal of Luxem- 
 bourg that he was the " upholsterer of Notre Dame."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 177 
 
 frontiers of such or such a country, it would be announced 
 that the whole of Lombardy was on the point of openly 
 revolting ; that the Italians detested the tyranny of the 
 conqueror, and were about to recall their old dukes to 
 govern them ; and a letter from Turin stated that a vast 
 conspiracy was about to break out at Paris, having for 
 its object the overthrow of the Directory, and the estab- 
 lishment of a military government, with Bonaparte at its 
 head. The news was spread throughout the departments 
 that the instigators of this plot had been taken and 
 brought before military commissions, and that even the 
 conqueror of Italy had judged it prudent to betake him- 
 self to flight, to avoid being arrested. 
 
 Such were the means resorted to in order to bring my 
 husband into disfavour. It was useless for him to descend 
 into the arena to justify himself; his lofty deeds spoke in 
 his behalf. The Directory had, in fact, put an end to the 
 crimes of the Jacobins, but it had established another 
 system* of despotism which only tended to increase its 
 conquests without any regard to the good of the people 
 who submitted to its sway. To maintain its numerous 
 armies demanded immense resources, and to obtain them, 
 the Directory set about forming a crusade ; and this again 
 directed all eyes to Bonaparte as its conductor. It was 
 proposed to attempt a descent upon the Three Kingdoms, 
 and to put an end to the haughty, colossal power of 
 proud Carthage. The interior of France was in a state 
 of great agitation. Every day revealed the weakness of 
 the one side and the audacity of the other. Bonaparte 
 alone seemed to remain an utter stranger to all those 
 movements. He lived (juite retired, but the concourse 
 of his admirers was inunense, and kept his house con- 
 stantly filled. 
 
 VOL. I 12
 
 178 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 During this interval of quiet, numerous plans of cam- 
 paign were presented him. He feigned to accept, but 
 adopted none of them, and used to laugh at the difficulties 
 which their execution must encounter. He had a relish 
 for English politics, and greatly praised the national spirit 
 which directed them ; but he wanted to study them at 
 the Cabinet of St. James, which had already, on several 
 occasions, striven to abase the honour of the French 
 name. But he looked upon the present projects of the 
 Government as gigantic, and did not dissemble his belief 
 that to realise them was impossible. Meanwhile he made 
 preparations to visit the coast. Some days before his 
 departure, we had a sharp altercation, which, but for the 
 prudent intervention of friends, might have produced 
 consequences injurious to us both (89). By degrees, how- 
 ever, he gave up the prejudices which others had created 
 in his mind, and seemed entirely reconciled to me — but 
 I found it impossible to prevail on him to let me ac- 
 company him to Brest (90). 
 
 He left Paris with a numerous suite, and was received 
 in the departments through which he passed, as a 
 sovereign on a visit to his estates. The throngs who 
 waited upon him during his journey, presented but an 
 unbroken series of benedictions. The people saw in him 
 the protector of their liberty. Already had numerous 
 corps from the different armies assembled on the coasts 
 of France, and the Three Kingdoms might for a moment 
 reasonably have stood in fear of the success of an ex- 
 pedition commanded by an audacious man, whom nothing 
 could compel to take a retrograde step when he had once 
 sworn to undertake and execute an enterprise. 
 
 The French army burned to measure its strength 
 against the English. The signal for combat was sounded ;
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I79 
 
 and had the least provocation been given, the fight would 
 have begun at once. The hostile legions were almost in 
 presence of each other, but Bonaparte could not bring 
 on an encounter ; for how were his troops to pass over 
 the space that separated them from their neighbours ? 
 Where were the ships to convey them to the shores of 
 Albion ? And notwithstanding the immense peparations 
 the Directory had made to humble the pride of Britain, 
 General Bonaparte knew perfectly well that the project 
 of invading her was only a cunning feint to conceal his 
 designs upon Egypt. The generals who were to take part 
 in that conquest were already selected, and all persons 
 who were to be connected with the labours of the ex- 
 pedition had received secret orders to repair to Toulon, 
 where the squadrons from Genoa, Civita-Vecchia and 
 Bastia were to be united to the principal fleet. More 
 than 50,000 men, the elite of the bravest legions, awaited 
 the signal to sail, without knowing whither the wind from 
 the Luxembourg would direct their course. Bonaparte 
 had returned to Paris, where new divisions threatened 
 to break out betwixt himself and the Directory. A new 
 revolution had broken out at Rome (91). 
 
 My husband was by no means ignorant that General 
 Provera, whom he had fought and conquered in Italy, 
 had contrived to collect partisans in the ancient country 
 of Regulus. The French Ambassador near the Holy See 
 kept his brother perfectly informed of whatever passed 
 at the Vatican, and received from the latter instructions 
 when to accelerate, and when to retard, the fall of the 
 papal government. Joseph Bonaparte was ordered by 
 the Directory to declare to the sovereign pontiff that 
 hostilities would commence against him, in case he did 
 not enjoin it upon the officer who had given umbrage to 
 
 12 — 2
 
 l8o SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 my husband to quit his territories immediately. Pius VI., 
 fearing another invasion, signed, but greatly against his 
 inclination, the order for the expulsion of the Austrian 
 officer. But it was written that the successor of the 
 Apostles should again humble himself before the French, 
 and that Jacobin missionaries from all nations should 
 infest the abode of Christianity with their incendiary 
 publications, dictate from the capital new laws to the 
 Roman people, and force them to exhume the statues 
 of Brutus and Cassius. The Jacobins constructed a 
 kind of palladium for the eyes of the crazed multitude, 
 whom they forced in a manner to imitate the example 
 of the murderers of Caesar, in case they should fall 
 before they had reconquered the rights which they 
 believed imprescriptible. 
 
 Had Bonaparte wished it, he might, at this moment, 
 have turned to his advantage this insurrection, inten- 
 tionally fomented, of which he held all the threads, and 
 moved it as he pleased. His destiny had placed him 
 in circumstances so extraordinary, that he might risk 
 everything. At a splendid dinner given at Paris by the 
 ambassador of the Cisalpine Republic,^ he gave, as a 
 toast, " The future destinies of the Roman Republic." 
 It would have been in vain for the Pope to think of 
 escaping this third war ; he could not avert it, and 
 was compelled to witness in silence the approach of 
 that explosion which had threatened his estates. He 
 particularly recommended to his faithful subjects to con- 
 sider the French as their brethren, afford them every 
 hospitality, and treat them with kindness. The unhappy 
 pontiff had received an order from Berthier to evacuate 
 
 I M. de Visconti.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE l8l 
 
 the Chateau of St. Angelo. The French general decHned 
 to receive any of the deputations sent him by his Holi- 
 ness, and contented himself with signifying to the Pope 
 that he might remain, in the palace of the Vatican, 
 under the special protection of the eldest sons of the 
 Church Militant (92). 
 
 Bonaparte appeared to me to be pleased that another 
 than himself had been charged with that " diabolical 
 mission."^ He wished to make astonished Europe be- 
 lieve he was a stranger to the different schemes in 
 preparation to legitimate that incredible usurpation ; for 
 to him it would have been really a painful task to 
 overthrow the helpless successor of the Apostles. "I 
 know not how it is," said he to me in confidence, " but 
 that prelate inspires me with so much respect that I 
 would not treat with him directly — he would have ended 
 by making me a neophyte. Virtue should be all-powerful 
 over men's hearts. I freely confess that I was as 
 repugnant to the expulsion of that old man from his 
 hearth as I should have been exultant in subduing one 
 half of the world to my sway. I very willingly left 
 that service to others. The manoeuvres of some in- 
 triguers hastened it on, but the glory of it will for ever 
 remain to the brave sons of Gaul, who alone were 
 worthy to found a new repubUc upon the ruins of the 
 ancient, and to rebuild the altars of Roman liberty, by 
 appealing to the ashes of Cato, Pompey, Cicero and 
 Hortensius."-^ 
 
 Everything seemed favourable to the cause of Bona- 
 
 1 The exact words of the general of the army of Italy. 
 
 2 Bonaparte learnt by heart the speech pronounced by General 
 Berthier from the Capitol at Rome, and used to cite fragments from 
 it, when in point, to illustrate an idea. »
 
 l82 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 parte. He continued to be the centre of political attraction 
 at Paris. He was informed of the events that had 
 recently transpired at Vienna, and foresaw their conse- 
 quences. "Our interests there," said he, "are in the 
 hands of a wise man. His native magnanimity (93) 
 is a sufficient guaranty. Bernadotte will understand 
 perfectly how to take advantage of the slightest circum- 
 stance. In all this, the Directory must find themselves 
 embarrassed ; they are afraid of me, and are certainly 
 afraid to give me the command of a new army in 
 Europe ; they will adjourn their projects, and so shall 
 I mine. They will assuredly wish to preserve peace 
 between the two Powers. Who knows but it is reserved 
 to me, one day, to dictate severe terms to Germany ? 
 There is one condition which will fix the seal to my 
 reputation, and raise the pretensions of the House of 
 Austria."^ Thus spoke this valiant captain — the man 
 who, a little later, was to crush so many nations, and 
 finally to be himself crushed under the weight of his 
 glory and his ambition. He wanted to make his rivals 
 pronounce his name with a feeling of concern. The eyes 
 of France were on him alone, and he knew it, and if the 
 five directors feigned to confer on him extensive powers,^ 
 
 1 Bonaparte already foresaw that he should become the supreme 
 arbiter of the destinies of the House of Austria, and able to impose 
 upon it those two species of tribute, which seemed most proper to 
 satisfy the two ruling passions of his soul — the love of dominion, and 
 the gratitude of posterity. 
 
 2 The Directory were curious to see in what manner Bonaparte 
 expressed himself, in reference to themselves, in his correspondence 
 with Count Cobentzel. A secret agent was sent to Vienna, and one 
 of the despatches was intercepted. The general of the army of Italy 
 gave the Austrian minister to understand that a political change 
 appeared to him to be inevitable, and that he, Bonaparte, held that 
 the conditions of the Treaty of Campo Formio should be religiously 
 observed.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 183 
 
 it was in order to open to him the way to the Tarpeian 
 rock. The general made them beUeve that Italy was 
 ready for another insurrection, that the Tyrol only awaited 
 a chief, and that it was, perhaps, more advantageous to 
 the French Republic to subdue those people, than use- 
 lessly to expose a hundred thousand Frenchmen amidst 
 the burning deserts of Arabia, where the most of them 
 must fall victims to their zeal and generous devotion. 
 This was just what the Government expected ; they were 
 sensible of the dangers which surrounded them, unless 
 they hastened the departure of the modern Coriolanus. 
 But Bonaparte was by no means their dupe. Inferring 
 their want of skill from their want of courage, he dis- 
 played in their presence a degree of energy, and made 
 them hear, this time, the language of an irritated master. 
 To have witnessed their anxiety to remove him entirely 
 from public affairs, one would have said they really feared 
 the ascendency of his genius. But the apprehension that 
 he would assume too much authority yielded to that of 
 present danger ; for never did that feeble Government 
 provide for anything ; they were constantly asleep in the 
 bosom of a foolish self-confidence, without reflecting what 
 might take place the next morning. In one of the last 
 conferences which took place betwixt them, Bonaparte — 
 the irascible, the fierce Bonaparte — in a lofty tone, dictated 
 to them his wishes. 
 
 That wonderful man foresaw, already, that he was 
 called to overthrow the Quintumvirate, although he well 
 knew that this political party could not resist him long. 
 Some members of the Directory dared to raise suspicions 
 respecting him, and manifested them so clearly, that he 
 seriously threatened to resign his commission. " Sign 
 your resignation, then," said Rewbel, coldly, presenting
 
 184 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 « 
 
 him the pen. The hero of Italy hesitated a moment. 
 Happily, he remembered the information that had been 
 given him, that they only sought a plausible pretext to 
 put him in accusation. Then, resuming his native 
 character, he addressed them in a firm and heroic tone, 
 as follows : " Citizen directors, I have in my Hfetime 
 made a vow never to lay aside my arms until it can 
 be said, ' The French Republic has conquered its 
 enemies, internal and external.' Thus far you may dis- 
 pose of me. From your patriotism, and your zeal for the 
 public good, I expect an immediate order to join my 
 colours. To conquer or die for his country is the motto 
 of every brave man ; it is my own ! " Thus freely did 
 Bonaparte express himself in the presence of that direc- 
 torial Areopagus; but he secretly resolved to shake off 
 the yoke the Government pretended to impose upon him. 
 All that remained to do was to seize upon the right 
 occasion. The directors, who foresaw his intentions, 
 unanimously resolved to send him to immortalise himself 
 in Africa (94), where a crusade of a new kind was soon 
 to astonish Europe, and to carry the honour of the 
 French name even beyond the Bosphorus.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 185 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Governments which have arisen from great revolu- 
 tions must, whatever the regularity sought to be impressed 
 upon them, long feel the agitations to which they owe their 
 existence. Such was the Directory ; it multiplied fault 
 upon fault and injustice upon injustice, creating discontent 
 among some, and among others that kind of indifference to 
 political affairs which precedes a dissolution of the body 
 politic. 
 
 Among his colleagues, Barras was the first to announce 
 to Bonaparte that he was called by his star to achieve new 
 triumphs under the skies of Egypt. 
 
 The general hazarded many criticisms upon the enter- 
 prise, and denominated it as rash and gigantic ; but it was 
 necessary to obey. Very little time was allowed him to 
 prepare for this great expedition into the East. His first 
 care was to call around him men of the highest talent. 
 
 The most distinguished savants begged the privilege of 
 treading among the ruins of Thebes and Memphis. I also 
 wished to accompany him, but he refused me ; and at the 
 moment the fleet, which was quietly lying off the enchanted 
 coast of Provence, weighed anchor, the sound of martial 
 music and warlike songs drowned his voice. Consulting 
 only his political interests, to which he was willing to sacri- 
 fice his dearest affections, he made me promise, as I loved 
 him, to remain in France. 
 
 On this interesting occasion, he repeated with emotion 
 the words addressed by Marechal Villars to Louis XIV., on
 
 l86 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 taking leave of him at Versailles : " Josephine," said he, 
 " my enemies are neither in Asia nor Africa ; they are in 
 France. I leave you in their midst to keep watch of them, 
 and, should it become necessary, to prepare the way for 
 their overthrow" (95). 
 
 That extraordinary man knew me well ; he knew that 
 where his interests were concerned my heart was wholly 
 devoted to him, I engaged to use every means for his 
 speedy return, but without being able to guess when it 
 would be, or the consequence of it. I was seriously affected 
 by his departure, because I was fully persuaded of the evil 
 intentions of the Directory in regard to him, and that they 
 were conspiring his ruin. Two chances seemed to present 
 themselves to those who wished to destroy him. Bonaparte 
 would assuredly achieve the conquest of Egypt, in which 
 case he would be almost certain to abuse his authority and 
 undertake to set himself up as King of the Mamelukes, and 
 would, of course, by this culpable act, make himself a de- 
 cided enemy of the republic ; in which event his fall would 
 be certain. On the other hand, it was not unlikely he 
 might be overwhelmed by the Beys, and the efforts of his 
 own army prove abortive (96) ; in which case he would be 
 accused of improvidence, want of skill, of having squandered 
 the treasures which had been entrusted to his care, of 
 treason, perhaps, and be put upon his trial and made to 
 account for his conduct. And thus, upon every hypothesis, 
 the general would hardly be able to escape the shafts directed 
 at him on every side. In view of all this I entertained just 
 apprehensions for his safety ; but, fortunately for him, I 
 acted as a prudent and vigilant sentinel. 
 
 By degrees I saw myself deserted by those who had 
 been loudest in their praises of Bonaparte's military ex- 
 ploits. I withdrew from all noisy company, devoted myself
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 187 
 
 to the interests of my daughter, and confined myself within 
 the circle of a few devoted, though unfortunate friends. 
 
 Three months had nearly elapsed when a report was 
 circulated that he was defeated. The taking of the islands 
 of Gorzo and Malta was soon followed by the most dis- 
 tressing news respecting him. 
 
 But he still retained some partisans, to paralyse whose 
 generous efforts in his behalf the faction opposed to him 
 gave out that he was assassinated during the rash expe- 
 dition against St. Jean d'Acre. The news of his death 
 was credited ; and although momentarily affected by it, 
 I doubted it, and was the only one who seemed uncon- 
 cerned in the midst of the general alarm. Indeed, I should 
 have banished from my mind all belief of his death but for 
 a hint thrown out by Le Tour. One day while I was on a 
 visit at the house of Barras, Le Tour remarked to one of 
 his colleagues of the Directory : " That is the wife of that 
 scoundrel Bonaparte ; if he is not dead for Europe, he is, 
 at least, for Franc^." 
 
 This remark gave me the most poignant grief, to which 
 I remained a prey for some time, without hope ; entirely 
 abandoned to my own sad reflections. But all my friends 
 did not change with this apparent change of fortune, and 
 Madame Tallien was still of the number.^ That admirable 
 woman, not hesitating to aid me in supporting the load of 
 ingratitude, rendered me the most signal services. I had 
 but little to do with Barras. The patron had quarrelled 
 with his protege at the time the latter sailed. It was my 
 duty, without showing a want of gratitude to Barras, to 
 defend the cause of the man I loved. I reproached him 
 
 I The deput)' Tallien had followed Bonaparte to Egypt. He 
 volunteered to join the expedition, but did not reap all the advantages 
 from it which he might and ought to have done.
 
 l88 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 for banishing my husband, a thing he might have pre- 
 vented had he raised his voice against it. And yet I must, 
 in justice to that member of the Directory, say, that he 
 immediately forgot those sHght dissensions when his 
 colleagues ordered the seizure of several boxes of plate 
 which belonged to the general. Fortunately, friendship 
 watched over this deposit, and saved from spoliation the 
 precious effects which had been given to the conqueror 
 of Lodi and Areola, by the most distinguished personages 
 of Lombardy and the Roman states. 
 
 During my husband's absence, I retired to Malmaison 
 (97). This place recalled to my mind the most touching 
 reminiscences ; here was I visited by those whom I loved ; 
 here I lived without display. Like most Creoles, I had 
 nothing which I regarded as my own, and used not much 
 discernment in bestowing favours ; they fell without dis- 
 tinction upon all who asked — my heart could never say^ 
 "no." 
 
 (Kind and excellent Josephine, you were skilful in solacing 
 others' woes, and knew hoiv to lavish consolation!) 
 
 I was fond of the country — and for whom has it not 
 charms, when adorned with all its treasures ? Who has 
 not felt his pangs alleviated, his agitations calmed, at the 
 sight of flowery meadows, or harvest-fields crowned with 
 the rich presents of Ceres and Bacchus ? Never did I 
 contemplate the season of spring without experiencing 
 a delicious sensation. In yielding myself to the agreeable 
 impression produced by the objects which Nature presents, 
 I saw that it was easy to be happy ; I felt that the bounties 
 which she lavishes, and almost always awards to labour, 
 might satisfy even me. And why, said I to myself, why 
 seek for superfluities, which, though they may add to our 
 enjoyments, often mar our felicity ?
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE l8g 
 
 One winter had passed, another had begun, since I had, 
 so to speak, been exiled in my own domains. Yet I con- 
 tinued my favourite walks. " The snows of winter," said 
 I, " will again shroud the valleys ; its veil, glittering with 
 pure white, will envelop all ; the trees, despoiled of their 
 foliage, will present nothing but skeletons to the eye of the 
 beholder ; — and all these changes must take place before I 
 shall again see the man who is to open to me my new 
 destinies." Such were my reflections at the time the 
 Directory was exulting in its supposed triumph over my 
 husband, and repeating, for the thousandth time, the 
 rumour that the future King of Jerusalem and Cyprus 
 had, at length, fallen beneath the strokes of some fierce 
 Omar and his ferocious warriors. 
 
 All around me was sad and gloomy. I alone felt a kind 
 of security, the natural effect of the confidence I reposed in 
 the person who had predicted (98) that "/ was about io see 
 again the man icJio 7('as to be the most astonishing man of his 
 age" 
 
 We love to believe that which pleases us, and my hopes 
 now became more and more strengthened ; soon they 
 became realities, and at the moment when all France 
 believed him lost, he arrived in Corsica from the port of 
 Aboukir, and landed at Frejus.^ 
 
 It appeared that he had heard, in an extraordinary 
 way (99), of the successes of the allied troops against 
 
 I Madame Bonaparte had received some of his letters from 
 Rhamante and Cheibeisse, and some from the great Pyramid of 
 Cheops, in which he repeated, in detail, his conference with the Mufti 
 Suleiman, and the Imans Ibrahim and Muhamed. His last letter was 
 written from Mount Tabor, after the battle of Aboukir, in which 
 Admiral Brueyes had had the honour to present himself before Nelson, 
 and lost his squadron. Their correspondence had ceased, however, 
 for several months.
 
 igo SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 France; the embarrassments of the Directory in the midst 
 of the struggles of all parties, and the cessation of all 
 dispute as to the best means of saving France. On his 
 arrival in Paris, he found matters much more favourable 
 than he had imagined. But, however that might be, one 
 thing was certain — the Government must be changed. 
 
 DifTerent factions disputed with each other the honour 
 of giving it the first blow. Bonaparte could not, there- 
 fore, have arrived more opportunely. He appeared as a 
 saviour in the midst of the astonished French. All eyes 
 were upon him, and all parties trembled at the sight of 
 him. 
 
 Italy, which he had left free, had again submitted to 
 its ancient masters. The Directory and the two councils, 
 divided both by interest and opinion, contended with each 
 other for the wrecks of a power which was fast slipping 
 from their grasp ; ^ civil war infested the southern depart- 
 ments ; all Europe was in arms against France. 
 
 Such was the frightful picture which I unfolded to 
 Bonaparte, who, from the moment of his arrival, could 
 not but perceive that the greater part of the deputies 
 divined his most secret intentions. 
 
 Yet he affected to be tranquil, and this shielded him 
 from reproaches. Nevertheless, his political plans were 
 everywhere going forward through the active instrument- 
 
 I Much has been said as to what a pohtician is. 'Tis he who best 
 confounds prejudices and principles, duty and affection ; who, under 
 the name of pubhc interest, promotes his own ; who is most obstinate 
 in his own opinions, and contemptuous of those of his neigh Jours. 
 
 Women usually take part in political discussions, always con- 
 sulting their passions rather than their reason, and indulging in 
 boundless exaggeration. And after all the forms of concealed malevo- 
 lence and polished hatred are exhausted, open reproach and insult 
 follow. — " Pensccs de Balzac.''
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE IQI 
 
 ality of his friends. Such was his situation that, with- 
 out leaving his house, he could tell with certainty all 
 that took place in the Directory. Nothing, indeed, which 
 was projected at their palace of the Luxembourg escaped 
 his vigilant eye. He was kept advised of the slightest 
 details which could be of advantage to him. A con- 
 versation which he had had with Barras had convinced 
 him that Barras and Sieyes were labouring to restore 
 the monarchy. This revelation showed him what plan 
 of conduct it became him to adopt. So perfectly had 
 he arranged matters that, at his first step, he met with 
 unexpected success. Every measure taken by the Di- 
 rectory to prevent or retard their fall was paralysed ; and 
 the resolution was immediately adopted to convoke the 
 two councils out of the city of Paris. Everything seemed 
 to conspire to forward the work for which he had so 
 carefully and vigorously laboured. He ceased to see the 
 men of 1793, towards whom he manifested on all occasions 
 the utmost coldness, affecting to condemn and combat 
 their maxims — a circumstance which did not escape the 
 general notice. He took upon himself a burden which 
 he would have been unable to bear had I not come 
 opportunely to his aid. On that great occasion I did 
 not fail to make him feel how necessary it is for a man 
 who undertakes to govern, to divide his cares with some 
 one upon whom he may rely for solace and encourage- 
 ment, and who cannot, at the same time, eclipse his own 
 glory. His enemies spread a rumour that he had lost 
 his influence over the soldiery, but good care was taken 
 not to acquaint him with it, though it was impossible 
 long to conceal from him the injurious reports which were 
 circulated abroad respecting his intentions. 
 
 I hinted to him that he would do well to conciliate
 
 192 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the several members of the councils who detested this 
 oligarchy, and directed the movements of the malcontents ; 
 and they soon united in a plan to annihilate this weak and 
 miserable Government. All dissimulation soon ceased, and 
 people talked seriously of the necessity of giving to France 
 more able rulers. General Moreau, in consequence of his 
 intimacy with the conspirators, was at first destined to act 
 the principal part in this revolution. 
 
 Had that great man but possessed ambition, it would 
 have been far easier for him to grasp the supreme power 
 than for Bonaparte.^ His merits and his profound know- 
 ledge had won for him a degree of consideration with the 
 Directory, of which he had never availed himself with 
 a view to make himself necessary to them. With all 
 the qualities which make the man an Alexander amidst 
 the tumult of arms, and a Cincinnatus in peace, he never 
 devoted himself to public duties, unless the occasion im- 
 periously demanded such a sacrifice of his leisure. Those 
 who were unacquainted with his modesty and habitual dis- 
 trust of himself, attributed his conduct to the principles of 
 his philosophy — a philosophy which taught him to subject 
 his ambition to the maxims he had gathered from a long 
 study of the great art of Vauban. This idea agreed well 
 with his known inclination to science and letters. 
 
 The power of the directorial government was insensibly 
 sinking. The sceptre of power was about to drop from the 
 feeble hands of an executive, devoid of justice and without 
 force. And yet the approach of danger, for a brief moment, 
 
 I "The country is saved," said Sieyes, on receiving the nCvVs that 
 Bonaparte had landed at Frejus. This exclamation ought to have 
 opened the eyes of Barras ; but he did not seem to understand it in its 
 true sense. Moreau confined himself merely to saying ; " You have no 
 more need of nie; there is the man ivhom you need for the present — address 
 yourself to him."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I93 
 
 roused its activity, and inspired it with a degree of courage ; 
 but the most of those who composed it were far from 
 following that wise maxim of Rousseau, too much neglected, 
 perhaps, even to this day, that, "if you would found a 
 republic, you must not commence by filling it with mal- 
 contents." 
 
 Although Bonaparte did not merit that servile admira- 
 tion of which he now became the object, he nevertheless 
 possessed qualities which were not the lot of every man. 
 His power increased in proportion as he became bound to 
 the ship of state. Happily he persuaded himself that the 
 empire I exercised over him, and my zeal to serve him, left 
 him nothing to fear ; and that was the point I wished to 
 arrive at, in order to reap all the fruits which I expected 
 from my secret attempts.' To me it was a pleasure, as 
 well as a duty, to labour for his fortunes, and almost 
 without acquainting him with my efforts. 
 
 I flattered myself that he would have a better relish for 
 the benefits I conferred upon him, by having them heaped 
 upon him at a moment when he least expected them, and I 
 always looked out for some favourable opportunity to make 
 him realise the fruits of my exertions, without perceiving 
 that his success was due to me. I did not hope to triumph 
 at once over any obstacle ; but, after sowing the seeds of 
 suspicion in his mind, I endeavoured to make him feel how 
 indecent it was for a general to permit his old army to 
 look upon hin^ as the sport of the Directory. He seemed 
 sensible of such a reproach, and I next endeavoured to 
 convince him, by the clearest proofs, that the soldiers held 
 the same opinion. Chance unexpectedly came to my aid, 
 
 I In fact, Josephine found means to treat, adroitly, with certain 
 men of great influence, and even to have an understanding with the 
 army of the I'ihine. 
 
 VOL. 1 13
 
 194 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and^ully justified the opinion I had formed of my husband; 
 for, a few days afterwards, the Government refused to con- 
 firm the favours which he had granted to certain of his 
 officers in the army of Italy. 
 
 Confounded at finding such resistance to what he called 
 his authority, he did not disdain to employ reasoning to 
 prove the correctness of his conduct in that matter. I did 
 not leave him in this delicate crisis of his fortunes. I 
 asked him whether it would be glorious for him to submit 
 to an affront which demanded a prompt reparation. 
 Human weakness does not always permit one to escape 
 the snares of error. In showing him the different steps 
 by which he was to reach the height of glory and fortune, 
 I argued to him that the people imagine that greatness 
 is ever accompanied by desert or virtue, and that even 
 faults ought to be covered with a veil in order that they 
 may obtain a name which shall turn them to advantage. 
 "You must readily perceive," said I, "that the Directory, 
 in showing their jealousy of you in so striking but impolitic 
 a manner, have determined to abase you in the eyes of the 
 French nation." 
 
 This observation produced a powerful impression upon 
 him. He admitted that faults might be committed in the 
 administration of a republic, but that, if they were to be 
 made known to anybody, it should be to those who were 
 not less interested to conceal than to repair them. 
 
 I cited the example of many Kings who resolved to 
 share with their Queens the cares of , government, and 
 forced him to admit that there is nothing but the bond 
 of matrimony and love that can tempt two hearts to 
 sacrifice for each other their repose, and keep them true 
 to each other in the pursuit of glory. He appeared so 
 struck by this kind of argument, that he was ready to
 
 THE EMPRHSS JOSEPHINE 195 
 
 consummate the fall of the Directory on the spot. I 
 showed him that this resolution must be the work of a 
 moment, but that it was necessary to proceed slowly in 
 laying the plan, which was to elevate the conqueror of 
 Italy to the place occupied by this phantom of a Govern- 
 ment. This demanded discretion, skill and care. I 
 wanted to conduct the scheme with so much address 
 that France would, with an unanimous voice, applaud 
 his own elevation and the overthrow of the five directors. 
 
 To Bonaparte there remained no means but dissimu- 
 lation, and he consented to employ it. The Directory, 
 on its part, made vain efforts to preserve its authority, 
 which a Government never loses with impunity. It in- 
 spired confidence no longer in anyone. If it had made 
 itself master of the different parties, it was only by 
 compelhng one to act as a restraint upon the other, and 
 this narrow and hollow system of politics was from day 
 to day dragging it to its ruin. And yet it must be 
 admitted that, in the midst of the incessant occupation 
 which conspiracies within, war without, the poverty of 
 the treasury, and, more than all other causes, the hatred 
 of the people, gave them, these modern Cromwells had 
 wrought wonders. 
 
 But the situation of my husband would no longer allow 
 him to temporise. I had, in concert with him, secured 
 the favour of a number of generals. The most of those 
 veterans stipulated in the treaty, which they hastened 
 to make, that places and dignities should be the price of 
 their concessions. They were all prepared to second 
 him, though Augereau for a long time remained inflexible. 
 His republicanism made him distrustful and gloomy. He 
 hated the nobility, and Bonaparte was tainted with this 
 original sin, and took a sort of pride in it. Augereau 
 
 13—2
 
 ig6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 had long been afraid of his ambition. " Be quiet," said 
 the hero of Italy to me; "this Fructidorian whom you 
 fear to-day will be with us to-morrow ; he must have 
 perceived since my return from Egypt that the pear is 
 ripe.'" ^ This was uttering a biting sarcasm upon the con- 
 duct which this ex-deputy of the Council of Five Hundred 
 had exhibited towards him at another period (loo). 
 
 Thus was commenced that new edifice of a power 
 whose progress and strength were soon to astonish 
 Europe, to dictate law to it, and render it tributary to 
 the French nation. 
 
 The cowardice of some members of the Council of 
 Ancients would, perhaps, have defeated the enterprise 
 had I not spoken to some of the chiefs of the conjuration, 
 and affected to be alarmed for the safety of the being 
 dear to my heart, and for that of the republic. 
 
 I assured myself of the assistance of the principal men 
 of influence ; I did more — I gave a splendid dinner at 
 Malmaison, which was attended by different personages 
 from every class of society. Murat and Lucien Bonaparte 
 were of the number of guests. During and after the repast 
 the conversation was stormy, especially among those who, 
 jealous of the glory the general was about to acquire, could 
 not bear the rays of a sun which was soon to rise, and 
 to shine on none but himself. I employed to them the 
 language of policy and reason, in turn, and strove to 
 captivate them by magnificent promises. The most of 
 them, tired of the inefficiency of the Government, promised 
 to unite their efforts to mine, and I engaged others to do 
 the same. All swore with alacrity to overturn this feeble 
 Government. 
 
 I Bonaparte's own words.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I97 
 
 But nobody was willing to expose himself to clangers 
 without advantage, and each one took good care to refer 
 to his personal interests, as stipulated in the impromptu 
 treaty of which I have spoken. 
 
 In setting in motion all the machinery employed in the 
 execution of this vast project, what fears, what anxieties 
 beset me ! I admitted the most famous statesmen and 
 generals to visit Bonaparte continually. Almost all of 
 them admitted the imperious necessity of a change in 
 public affairs. Sieyes proposed an admirable plan,^ and 
 the Directory seemed, of a sudden, smitten with vertigo 
 and inertness. The law of hostages carried despair into 
 the bosom of innumerable families. Every day the revo- 
 lutionary rage sent multitudes of emigrants to death, to 
 whom the privilege had been granted to return to their 
 own country. It was time that a courageous hand should 
 seize the helm of state ; for France was fast sinking 
 under the combined efforts of her enemies at home and 
 abroad. 
 
 I It was easy to see that a change was preparing in the form of 
 government at Paris, when Siej'es was seen to mount on horseback. 
 It was easy to judge, from the language held by members of the two 
 councils who were in the secret, that a revolution was meditated.
 
 igS SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Skilful in sounding the human heart, I sometimes 
 discovered men's inmost thoughts. I saw Bonaparte 
 animated by a desire to free France from the cruel yoke 
 that pressed upon her, and I remarked in the vigilant 
 captain an ambition which aspired after greatness. " The 
 enterprise I am about to attempt," said he, " cannot fail 
 of success, since I advance under your auspices. The 
 insults offered to the republic will soon be avenged ; at 
 least, madam, you shall not see me again, unless crowned 
 with the laurels of victory." Thus he spoke, and imme- 
 diately everything was put in readiness for striking the 
 final blow. On the eve of that memorable day which was 
 to change the destinies of France,^ I saw a general of 
 known courage arrive in haste at Malmaison, who united 
 in himself all the qualities fitting him for the greatest 
 enterprises. Although of a mind at once turbulent, supple 
 and artful, bold in his language, prompt in action, intrepid 
 in danger, he exhibited, as I thought, some alarm. He 
 passed by me with a rapid step, and hastened to Bona- 
 
 I Forty-eight hours before the removal of the councils to St. 
 Cloud, Dubois Crance, the minister of war, applied to the Directory 
 for an order of arrest against Bonaparte, Murat, Talleyrand, Fouche, 
 Barras and others. Gohier, the president of the Directory, and Moulins, 
 one of its members, were in favour of granting the order ; but Lagarde, 
 the secretary, declared that he would not sign it. because, to justify his 
 signature, it was necessary to have a majority of the Directory. "But," 
 said Gohier, " there can be no revolution, for I hold the seals." And 
 when, on the i8th Brumaire, Moulins was informed of what had taken 
 place at St. Cloud, he replied : " Why, that cannot be ; Bonaparte 
 promised to dine with vie to-day."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE I99 
 
 parte. A second soon followed ; terror was likewise 
 depicted on his features. Seized with the same fright, 
 I had scarcely strength to advance towards him. My 
 husband, till now perfectly unshaken, rushed out, exclaim- 
 ing : " What— what is the matter?" The surprise was 
 at its height. I had not courage to ask him what those 
 brief words meant. He was in his room, and no one had 
 noticed that he was present ; silence reigned around him, 
 and the consternation became general. 
 
 Recovering, in some degree, from my surprise, I was 
 anxious to learn the cause of all this alarm. Lucien 
 informed me that his brother was in imminent danger, and 
 that all his projects were discovered. "The Directory," 
 said he, " have penetrated his designs. He cannot escape 
 from their toils ; his movements are all brought to light, 
 and after getting hold of the thread of his plots, they 
 intend to convoke an extraordinary session, at which 
 Bonaparte will be compelled to be present. They will 
 there address him personally, and overwhelm him by a 
 disclosure of everything. Perhaps even now the order is 
 given to apprehend him." 
 
 Then I took counsel of myself. It seemed to me as 
 if a protecting God was at my side, giving me supernatural 
 strength and courage. Every one around me was thunder- 
 struck — stunned by fear and stupor ; and without listening 
 to any voice but that of my heart, I started immediately 
 for Paris. I expected to be arrested on the way, but 
 succeeded in reaching Pont Royal, where I met General 
 Massena, and gave him a sign which he understood. We 
 proceeded on the instant to the house of a common friend, 
 where we concerted the means of saving Bonaparte. We 
 both agreed upon sending him a faithful guard, capable, by 
 its imposing attitude, of paralysing the projects of his
 
 20O SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 enemies. For my part, I flew to the Directory, in order 
 to ascertain the hopes or fears of the members. 
 
 I reached the Luxembourg Palace at the moment when 
 they were holding a secret session. One of the door- 
 keepers told me it seemed to be a stormy session, and 
 that they were doubtless deliberating upon important 
 matters. I confess I felt some fear when I reflected that 
 I had placed myself in the hands of the Areopagus of five. 
 La Revelliere, Rewbel, Moulins, Gohier passed success- 
 ively by nie. I waited for Barras, determined to penetrate 
 his designs, though I had resolved to dissemble the real 
 perils to which they were exposed (loi). 
 
 Yet I had taken care to make him who was now laying 
 the foundations of his future greatness swear that, in case 
 he remained master of the field, he would respect the life 
 of him whom he was pleased to call his friend — his first 
 benefactor. That director appeared. His presence caused 
 me some emotion, for, to please Bonaparte, I had avoided 
 him for several months. He spoke to me with an air of 
 unconcern well calculated to impose upon any one else. 
 At length I said to him : " What signify these absurd 
 fables which malevolent persons have been pleased to 
 spread, that the general of the army of Egypt aspires to 
 the supreme authority ? You well know, Barras, there is 
 nothing in it;" — and emphasised the last words. The 
 mute play of his features showed that he understood me. 
 He seemed to '^ay : " We really presume the contrary; we 
 intend to remain mere witnesses of the same, until your 
 husband shall commence hostihties, and compel us to 
 become his accusers. What is the general about at this 
 moment ? He is engaged in his conspiracy." On being 
 told that my husband had kept his room for some days, 
 and that the state of his health gave me some uneasiness.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 20I 
 
 he replied: "Well, I rely on your word; and I shall 
 go and oppose with all my might the decree of accusation, 
 which all my colleagues have resolved to launch against 
 him. The best way will be to adjourn the sitting, which 
 is to recommence within an hour, and wait until we are 
 better advised. As to you, madam," he added, " be as- 
 sured the lucky Corsican ought not to disdain my 
 benevolent protection ; perhaps he will soon need it — 
 and then it will be too late."^ 
 
 It certainly cost me much to lead Barras into an error ; 
 but my business was to save my husband. They knew 
 each other, and never could have pardoned themselves, 
 the one for having been the dupe of a man who was 
 in a manner indebted to him for his existence, and the 
 other for having been so unjust as not to acknowledge it. 
 
 Rendered more tranquil by this ray of hope, I hastened 
 to make several other arrangements which I judged neces- 
 sary to accelerate the business of the morrow. I assured 
 myself of the friendship of the men over whom I had any 
 influence, and, discovering nothing in Paris to justify my 
 fears, I returned promptly to Malmaison to reassure him I 
 loved, convinced that even these feeble results could not 
 fail to afford him a momentary quiet. 
 
 Alas ! sad experience has taught me that a state of un- 
 certainty is one of the severest afflictions of the human 
 heart. When I arrived every one was overwhelmed with 
 affright. Bonaparte himself was walking in his gardens. 
 His looks were haggard, like one who expects every mo- 
 ment to be surrounded by foes. I caught him by the hand, 
 drew him towards a kiosk, and endeavoured to calm his 
 mind, which was absorbed in profound meditation. At 
 
 I Bonaparte was more displeased at Barras' power, than flattered 
 by his condescension.
 
 202 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 every moment he cast fearful looks towards the capital ; in 
 speaking, he would begin a sentence, and break off abruptly 
 without finishing it. 
 
 Any other person but myself would have pitied him at 
 that moment, for he really showed himself pusillanimous. 
 Overcome by fear, he was really unable to comprehend 
 anything or to execute anything. Indeed, despair actually 
 seized him for an instant ; he fled like a guilty person from 
 the sight of everybody, and ran and concealed himself in 
 the darkest alley in the park, a short distance from the 
 chateau. He was preyed upon by the deepest despond- 
 ency. A courier arrived with a report that towards Neuilly 
 the country was overspread with troops ; all believed Bona- 
 parte's cause lost ; some immediately abandoned him, and 
 others were preparing to follow their example ; but I told 
 them, with an air of confidence, that what they saw was but 
 the fruits of my exertions, and that Generals Macdonald, 
 Moreau, Lefebvre, Augereau and others were coming to 
 join us. This restored their courage, and our friends now- 
 showed themselves before that guard upon whom they 
 could rely with the utmost security. A calm succeeded 
 the tempests. I talked with the two brothers, and did 
 not permit myself to conceal from either the real state of 
 affairs. " We are treading on a volcano," said I, " and 
 have everything to fear from its explosion." It was, 
 indeed, impossible, at this critical moment, to feel secure ; 
 the danger was continually increasing. We received, it 
 is true, some reinforcements, and might, perhaps, have 
 sustained an attack from the Government troops ; but it 
 was much better to avoid one. 
 
 Fear sometimes closely resembles prudence, and rash- 
 ness seconds courage. I succeeded in persuading the chiefs 
 of our party that even a man borne down by adverse
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 203 
 
 circumstances may often, by a bold stroke, succeed in 
 extricating himself, and force a smile even from Fortune 
 herself. " It shall not," said Bonaparte, " be in vain that 
 you recall me to my duty. I swear to you this shall be the 
 last time you shall accuse me of indifference to my cause." 
 This said he immediately re-entered his apartments. 
 
 Murat was undecided, and gave himself up to gloomy 
 reflections. " How now, general," said I ; " are you here 
 still ? It seems to me you ought to have been with the 
 little committee'^ two hours ago. — Hasten, general; to horse, 
 or I will go myself and carry them these despatches." His 
 air was serious on hearing me speak thus. He stared at 
 me, but made a sign indicating his approval of the presence 
 of mind I showed on the occasion. A moment after he 
 started at full gallop for Paris. My son was in the court of 
 the chateau with me. We found the men drawn up in 
 order of battle. I addressed them some flattering compli- 
 ments, and was much pleased to see that Colonel Perrin 
 (102) was present. " You are prompt," said I ; "you have 
 arrived almost as soon as I ! " Bonaparte and Lucien now 
 showed themselves, followed by a great part of the officers. 
 They all assured the general that they had taken an oath 
 to form for him a rampart of their bodies, and, should it be 
 necessary, to die in his defence. I caused refreshments 
 to be distributed to the grenadiers, and we all conversed 
 familiarly with the principal officers of the corps. During 
 the repast the conversation was quite animated. The 
 different claims of some of the conspirators had produced 
 some slight altercations. In truth, a kind of darkness still 
 brooded over the events which were in preparation. Many 
 
 I Where Sieyes, Cambaceres, Roger Ducos, Lucien Bonaparte, 
 Fouche, Roederer, Regnault de St. Jean d'Angeli, and others were 
 assembled.
 
 204 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the chiefs who were devoted to our cause knew not what 
 they were to do, and hesitated between interest, honour 
 and duty. In order to reconcile them, a commandant of 
 the 17th miHtary division, who was still undecided, pledged 
 himself to espouse our cause. 
 
 From this time I busied myself exclusively in preparing 
 the public mind for the denouement of the drama. 
 
 At ten o'clock in the evening an express, sent by Murat, 
 brought a letter to Bonaparte. He ordered the troops to 
 proceed with the utmost silence along the road to Rueil, 
 in order to act as an escort to a carriage which was to 
 take him to Paris. 
 
 But Lucien thought it more prudent to get into the 
 city noiselessly, and by means of disguise, very properly 
 apprehending his brother might be seen by the agents 
 of the Directory. I had already secured the adhesion of 
 the principal chiefs of the guard attached to the legislative 
 body, without hinting what need I should have of them ; 
 and also had my secret agents in the bureaux of the 
 minister of police. I was not ignorant that the Directory 
 had conceived the project of seizing Bonaparte at Mal- 
 maison — an indiscreet scheme, which had been known to 
 me, and served as a warning of what they intended to do. 
 
 An important expedition was in agitation. People 
 talked of the arrest of a great personage, without any 
 further knowledge on the subject than this uncertain 
 information. I strongly insisted that the general should 
 come to Paris, and spend the night at a house unknown 
 to the agents of the Government. 
 
 In this sad and cruel conjuncture, unless honoured by 
 the confidence of the troops, my husband would have been 
 at every moment exposed to the fury of factions, the 
 attacks of conspirators, or the daggers of the Directory.
 
 THi; KMPRESS JOSEPHINE 205 
 
 Alone, he would have become the object of universal 
 hatred, exposed to every kind of peril. But, happily for 
 his fortunes, a guardian angel watched at his side. 
 
 In the evening of the day which, to all appearance, 
 promised him a complete triumph or an utter overthrow, 
 the Council of Ancients was directed ^ to meet at break 
 of day to discuss matters of the last importance to the 
 public safety. Alas ! how long and anxious to me were 
 the iSth and 19th Ihumaire. I cannot even now think 
 of them without a shudder. At the opening of this 
 memorable sitting the two parties separated. One could 
 not but foresee that, in a contest so terrible, in the midst 
 of such a violent debate, the republic, already dreadfully 
 shaken, would, whatever might be the event, lose both 
 its stability and its splendour. 
 
 The most of the members of the council, under the 
 influence of fear, felt that their own fortunes, as well as 
 those of their children, depended on the success of the 
 enterprise. Should a fatal blow be prepared for my hus- 
 band — should any disaster befall him, it would fall equally 
 on their heads. And this consideration induced them to 
 appoint him general -in -chief of the troops stationed at 
 
 I The representative, Courtois, who was charged to prepare the 
 famous report relative to Maximilien Robespierre, transmitted the 
 letter of convocation tcj each deputy. The most of those who were 
 not summoned showed some dissatisfaction. " Be still," replied 
 Courtois, " I have only hindered you from taking sides with the oppo- 
 sition ; you have remained neutral on an occasion where it might have 
 been dangerous for you to manifest your opinions. Now you can join 
 their ranks, and the First Consul will delight to see your names figuring 
 beside those of Lucien Bonaparte, Boulay de la Meurthe, Regnier, 
 Vimar, Herwin, Lemercier, Villetard, Cabanis, Baraillon, Cornudet, 
 Bouteville, &c., all members of the Comite de I'Hotel de Breteuil, 
 and who were the first to sanction the resolution transferring the 
 Directory, and the two councils, to St. Cloud, where they were con- 
 voked in extraordinary session."
 
 2o6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Paris, and under that title to charge him to watch over 
 the safety of the national representatives, as well as the 
 accomplishment of the decree. Two messengers were 
 despatched to him, and he hastened with his staff imme- 
 diately to the Assembly, to whom he delivered the 
 following speech : — " The republic was perishing ! Your 
 decree has saved it : — woe to them who wish for trouble 
 or discord ! — Aided by General Lefebvre, General Ber- 
 thier, and all my brave companions in arms, I will 
 prevent them. Let no one think to retard your steps 
 by examples drawn from the past. Nothing in history 
 resembles the eighteenth century, and nothing in the 
 eighteenth century the present moment. The decree 
 your wisdom has pronounced our arms shall execute. 
 France wants a republic founded on true liberty, per- 
 manent laws, national representation ; she shall have it. 
 I swear it ; yes, I swear it in my own name and in the 
 name of my companions in arms." 
 
 " I receive your oath," replied the president of the 
 council. " He who has never in vain promised victories 
 to his country cannot fail to fulfil with devotion the 
 obligation to serve her and be faithful to her." 
 
 Bonaparte now entered upon the command with which 
 the Council of Ancients had investec' him. By his 
 orders, ten thousand men of the different corps were 
 assembled near the Tuileries. General Lefebvre was 
 appointed his lieutenant, and he read to the officers 
 the famous decree which had been passed. 
 
 The conqueror of Italy and Egypt thus harangued 
 his troops : — " Myself," said he, " without arms, but 
 with your aid and that of every good citizen, will soon 
 smother the plots already conceived and ready to be 
 hatched in the bosom of our country. Our enemies
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 207 
 
 are not only on the Alps and the banks of the Danube, 
 but in the palace of the Luxembourg. What do I say? 
 I behold them in the sanctuary where the two coun- 
 cils are sitting. Come on, then, my braves ; we will 
 unravel the web that has been woven in the dark. For 
 two years the republic has been wretchedly governed. 
 The army was in hopes that my return would put an 
 end to these numerous evils, and it did not hope in 
 vain. The Council of Ancients are disposed to save the 
 state. Should anyone oppose their will, your bayonets 
 will avenge the wrong." Thus he spoke, and those 
 veterans swore fidelity to him, and declared that they 
 all burnt with a desire again to signalise themselves 
 under his eye. 
 
 In the morning of that eventful day the storm roared 
 furiously over the head of Bonaparte. The Council 
 of Five Hundred were in session in the orangery of 
 St. Cloud ; it had for its support the whole of the 
 popular faction. Most of them were determined to 
 combat, at the outset, what they were pleased to call 
 an attempt upon the prerogatives of liberty. The 
 moment a proposition was made for the appointment 
 of an extraordinary commission, to be charged with pre- 
 senting the measures deemed necessary for the public 
 safety under the present circumstances, the speaker 
 was interrupted by tumultuous cries of "The Consti- 
 tution — the Constitution ! Why are we at St. Cloud ? 
 Why are we surrounded with an armed force ? " 
 
 At this moment Bonaparte appeared in the Assembly, 
 followed by several grenadiers. Lucien, the president 
 of the Assembly, was replying to those who had ad- 
 dressed personalities and insults to him, respecting his 
 brother. " I am," said he, " too sensible of my dignity
 
 2o8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 as a man to respond to the insults of a party of 
 destructionists." 
 
 The confusion in the council now rose to the highest 
 pitch. The most frightful yells and vociferations re- 
 sounded through the building, and the general himself was 
 received with menacing cries. " What does Bonaparte 
 want in the place where we hold our sittings ? Outlaw 
 him ! Down with the dictator / " In vain did he attempt 
 to speak ; his voice was drowned by the tumult. Lucien 
 was obliged to put on his hat and leave the chair, at 
 which the agitation became extreme. Terror for a 
 moment seized my husband. He left the room, and 
 while the two parties were forswearing themselves in 
 the two councils, in which the Jacobins had succeeded 
 in getting passed resolutions to renew the oath in favour 
 of the Constitution, in which they carried with them 
 two-thirds of the members of the Council of Five Hundred, 
 Bonaparte repaired to the bar of the Ancients, attended 
 by most of our celebrated generals. Here he displayed 
 a supernatural courage, and thus addressed the Assembly: 
 
 " Had I cherished schemes of usurpation, they would 
 ere this have been realised. Since my return, the leaders 
 have urged me to assume the supreme power. Barras 
 and Moulins have solicited me to do so ; but I repelled 
 their overtures, because liberty is dear to me. Let us not 
 be divided ; unite your wisdom and firmness to the force 
 which surrounds me ; I will only be the arm devoted to 
 the safety of the republic." — " And of the Constitution," 
 exclaimed a number. " The Constitution ! " replied Bona- 
 parte, with great emphasis, "how can you invoke the 
 Constitution ? Does it still exist ? Has it not been the 
 sport of all parties ? Was it not trampled under foot 
 on the 1 8th Fructidor, on the 22nd Floreal, on the i8th
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 20g 
 
 Prairial ? " — And continuing his speech in the midst of 
 the council, from which all strangers had been removed, 
 he insisted upon the necessity of hastening forward the 
 movement which had been commenced. Then, addressing 
 himself to the troops who were posted in the interior of 
 the hall, he said : " My friends, I promise you peace at 
 home and abroad. Pledge yourselves to turn your bayo- 
 nets against me should I ever wander from the paths of 
 liberty. — I am aware that, for so much zeal and devotion, 
 a price will perhaps be set on my head, and assassins hired 
 to destroy me. But I shall expose myself alone, and with- 
 out defence, in the arena. Should I fall beneath the blows 
 of the conspirators, swear, in the name of French honour, 
 to avenge me." 
 
 " We will die with you, general," they replied ; " we 
 promise, not only to serve you as a guard, but to make a 
 rampart of our bodies in your defence." 
 
 This said, he placed himself in the midst of the soldiers, 
 who were afraid of losing their idol, and felt no fear of 
 being betrayed. The shades of night fell upon St. Cloud. 
 All became silent ; but the agitators waked and watched 
 around him. He dispersed his legions, and assigned them 
 different posts in the city. Alone and unattended he 
 entered the Council of Five Hundred. A tumult arose 
 at the sight of him ; each one rushed forward to meet 
 him — nothing was heard but confused cries of ^^ Doivn witJi 
 the tyrant ! — Down with Cromivell ! — Outlaw the dictator l'' He, 
 however, expressed himself with frankness and firmness. 
 Many of the deputies, who were mostly armed, menaced 
 him with personal violence, l)ut were careful not to com- 
 mence the attack, for fear it might furnish an excuse for 
 employing the bayonet against them. They compared 
 him to Catiline, and, in the delirium of their rage, imputed 
 VOL. I 14
 
 2IO SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to him the most monstrous designs. " Thou makest war 
 upon thy country," said Arena, menacing him with his 
 dagger. — " How often," replied Bonaparte, " have we to 
 complain of having served the state, when we meet citizens 
 ready to forget our good deeds, and to impute to us dis- 
 honourable actions." 
 
 He stood astonished at the increasing confusion ; his 
 attitude lost something of its assurance ; he grew pale, 
 stammered, and cast a wistful look towards the door, 
 where most of the troops were standing. They, perceiv- 
 ing he was frightened, rushed forward to defend him, 
 and General Lefebvre succeeded in disengaging him from 
 a group of deputies, who were eager to fall upon him. He 
 mounted his horse in haste, without knowing what he was 
 about. 
 
 Putting spurs to his courser, he returned to Paris at 
 full gallop, exclaiming to his friends : " They wanted to 
 kill me ! All is lost, I believe — and yet I am invulnerable — 
 I shall, one day, be compared to the God of Thunder ! " 
 Murat met him on the bridge of St. Cloud, and said, with 
 great vehemence : " Is it rational that a man who has 
 triumphed over powerful enemies, should be afraid of the 
 most feeble? Come, come, general, courage! I will 
 answer for it, victory will be ours ! " Bonaparte now 
 became again master of himself ; he wheeled his horse, 
 and felt the necessity of again presenting himself at the 
 breach, in order to finish his work. As to Lucien, he had 
 been reproached and insulted in the most furious manner. 
 He leaped to the tribune, and made a violent charge upon 
 those who renewed the proposition to outlaw Bonaparte. 
 " What ! you would make me the assassin of my own 
 brother," he exclaimed, in the midst of a torrent of in- 
 vectives poured upon him by the enraged assembly.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 211 
 
 " No ! your president shall never become a fratricide ! " 
 And, in a moment of indignation, he hurled into the middle 
 of the floor his toga and senatorial scarf. It would have 
 been all over with my husband, but for this noble act 
 of resentment shown by his brother on that terrible 
 occasion. 
 
 The grenadiers protected him, and he passed out, 
 covered by his escort, but in the midst of the most blood- 
 thirsty insults and menaces. He did not, however, remain 
 inactive. He persuaded the troops to obey him, and 
 immediately the guards re-entered the hall, led by an 
 officer, who exclaimed in a firm voice : " The general 
 has ordered me to clear the hall of the Council of Five 
 Hundred ! " The members, at the sight of the soldiers, 
 who advanced at a quick step, saved themselves by rush- 
 ing, with the utmost precipitation, through every possible 
 avenue, out of the room, in the utmost consternation. 
 Bonaparte would surely have been lost had the repre- 
 sentatives displayed the least energy on this occasion. 
 It is more than probable that the military would have 
 refused to strike them with their weapons. 
 
 The two councils, by a unanimous vote, appointed a 
 Consular Commission, composed of Sieyes and Roger 
 Ducos. They took the place of the Directory and re- 
 ceived the title of consuls. 
 
 Bonaparte was named First Consul.^ No one took 
 umbrage at it ; he took precedence among his colleagues 
 without the slightest opposition on their part. The 
 
 I The general of the army of Egypt used to say jokingly : " If the 
 lawyer Gohier, the apostate Sieyes, the attorney Rewbel, and the 
 dealer in old clothes, Moiilins, could make themselves kings, 1 might, 1 
 thought, make myself consul. I took my diplomas at Montenotte, 
 Lodi, Areola, Chebreisse and Aboukir." 
 
 14—2
 
 212 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 royalists, supposing that the general was going to take 
 the reins of government only ad interim, extolled him to 
 the skies. 
 
 For my own part, I was filled with apprehension. A 
 sudden horror seized me as I glanced at a letter, written 
 in pencil, in which the writer remarked that my hus- 
 band was about to be outlawed. I was impatient to 
 know, and, at the same time, trembled to learn, what 
 was passing ; and I feared every moment some faithful 
 friend would come and inform me that my husband had 
 submitted to his fate. Already I seemed to see the 
 scaffold erected before him, his name dishonoured, and 
 posterity cursing his memory. Judge of the anxiety I 
 felt, especially as I had to reproach myself with having 
 been the first to excite him to hazard everything in order 
 to deliver France from the directorial yoke. 
 
 Hardly could I endure this cruel reflection. I saw him 
 approaching. I stood as if struck by a bolt from heaven, 
 with eyes fixed, outstretched arms, and lips half-opened, 
 and when he had reached me, we stood for some time 
 speechless and motionless. I was the first to break silence, 
 and said to him, with eyes filled with tears: "Oh, my 
 husband, do I see you again ! My sorrow and anxiety 
 have completely overwhelmed me ; I could wait no longer ; 
 sometimes I accused myself of having rashly pushed you 
 upon the shore of a raging sea ; sometimes I accused our 
 friends of unfaithfulness, and uttered reproaches against 
 them ; then I would, with trembling lips, kiss the extin- 
 guished fires of my hearth, as if our enemies had already 
 come to announce their triumph, and to force me from an 
 abode abandoned by its owner. Consul," exclaimed I, in 
 the dehrium of my joy, at seeing him again at my side, 
 " Consul, you have escaped a danger equally imminent
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 213 
 
 and glorious ! But how immense a task does this success 
 impose upon you ! Thou alone, O Bonaparte," I added, 
 pressing him to my heart, " thou alone art destined to be 
 the saviour of our beloved country ! France, still in tears, 
 groans under the weight of her long woes ; her golden 
 days have disappeared like a star in a night of tempests ; 
 with her expiring voice, she calls a hero to her rescue. 
 Be thou that hero ! Hasten to employ the remainder 
 of thy days in creating in her a new life. May she 
 leave thy hands young in glory and felicity. Be for 
 her another Prometheus. This is, indeed, a sublime part 
 for thee to act ; but thou, thou canst accomplish it ! 
 Rebuild our altars ; from amidst the ruins of the temple 
 of Dagon, bring new pillars to sustain the Church of our 
 fathers; re-establish our institutions: purify our tribunals; 
 complete the enactment of our laws. Thus shalt thou put 
 an end to the disorders and crimes of every sort sown 
 abroad by the hand of revolution, and heal the wounds 
 of the state." Such were the ideas I ventured to express 
 to him at this memorable epoch. Henceforth my task 
 was fulfilled. What did I not do to place power in the 
 hands of the man who was everything to me ! To 
 accomplish my purposes, I was even false to the friend- 
 ship and gratitude I owed to Barras. But what may 
 not a woman accomplish under the electric influences 
 of love and ambition ? Moreover, I saw in the elevation 
 of Bonaparte to the consulship, the regeneration of my 
 country and the happiness of a great people.
 
 214 SECRET MEMOIRS Ol- 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A NUMEROUS guard now armed themselves and watched 
 over the safety of the First Consul. Bonaparte occupied 
 the palace of the ancient kings of France. 
 
 The power of the patriots became feebler every day. 
 More importance is often attached to a name than to the 
 thing itself. The word "Republic" was engraved on the 
 Tuileries in letters of gold, and this sufficed to convince 
 the mass that he who dwelt there would never attempt 
 to destroy it.^ 
 
 It was of course impossible for the Directory, untaught 
 l)y the lessons of a sad experience, to continue an unequal 
 struggle against the consuls. 
 
 Reduced to their own resources, what could the 
 Directory do ? Was it not better to yield to the power 
 of circumstances than to push such a man as Bonaparte 
 to extremities ? To resist him would have been to 
 furnish him an occasion to try his strength, to feel it 
 themselves, and to display it to others in its full extent. 
 
 Barras, meanwhile, sent in his abdication, as director, 
 to the First Consul. I seized a moment when the latter 
 was reUeved of the throng of flatterers, whose fortunes 
 depended on him, to call to his mind the memory of his 
 old friend. 
 
 I Some time afterwards, Bonaparte remarked jokingly to Josephine, 
 " I have left the word ' Republic ' on the walls of the palace, for the 
 same reason that the name is sometimes placed at the bottom of a 
 picture which is unlike the person intended."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 215 
 
 He replied to me with some sharpness, " My hatred 
 has prevailed. I followed my resentment, my enmity — 
 I have avenged my own wrongs ; I have avenged my 
 own affronts." Then, reflecting a moment, "What," 
 said he, " does this man want ? Nothing can henceforth 
 reconcile him to me." These words distressed me, and 
 I attempted to speak in Barras' justification. " You 
 owe it," said I, " to that director, that you did not fall 
 a victim to the dark politics of his colleagues, Gohier 
 and Moulins, who would have arrested you but for the 
 powerful remonstrances of Barras. You are doing the 
 greatest wrong to forget the important services which 
 Barras has rendered you (103). What would you have 
 been without the interest he deigned to take in you ? 
 A man does well to sustain himself by his personal 
 merits or rare talents ; but, unless some patron, who is 
 acquainted with them, brings them to light, the possessor 
 never can do justice to himself." — "What is your object?" 
 replied the consul, with an air of impatience. — "To make 
 you exercise the noblest of virtues," said I. " The word 
 gratitude is ever on your lips ; engrave for ever on your 
 heart the sacred debt of gratitude which you owe him. 
 A great politician ought to sacrifice his ambition to it." — 
 " What will the people say, should they see me associate 
 this ex-director with my glory ? The time has passed by 
 when I had the honour to obey his orders. 'Tis necessary, 
 madam, "tis necessary, in order that I may make an im- 
 pression upon France, for me to come to an open rupture 
 with him. It might, should the same apparent friend- 
 ship exist between us, be supposed that he had favoured 
 my designs. I wish, henceforth, to cast the hero of 
 Vendemiaire into oblivion ; and when the proper time 
 shall come. I will teach the Parisians that, so far from
 
 2l6 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 destroying their capital, I only wanted to embellish it 
 with the finest monuments. My vast plans will soon 
 furnish them the means of judging of my conceptions, 
 and will one day present to posterity rich materials 
 for history."^ 
 
 I was far from approving the first part of this reply. 
 I knew that Barras, in investing Bonaparte with a por- 
 tion of his authority, expressly recommended him to use 
 clemency towards the sections which had rebelled against 
 the Convention ; and, thanks to his principles, the sword 
 of Damocles was returned to its scabbard ; in fact, the 
 military commissions were created rather to overawe than 
 to destroy the vanquished party. Each one of the leaders 
 had, in some degree, fanned the flame of revolt; a small 
 number of distinguished citizens were put to death ; some 
 found safety in flight, while others owed their preservation 
 to steadfast friendship, or the zeal of certain courageous 
 deputies. 
 
 Bonaparte advanced with rapid strides on the vast 
 theatre of ambition ; and he who had lent him a helping 
 hand soon saw himself banished by the modern Sylla. 
 What did I say ? One of the consuls even asked authority 
 to apprehend the person of Barras ! " That will not do," 
 said I to my husband ; " you cannot commit an act of 
 perjury and ingratitude with impunity. Who knows but 
 that the lex talionis may one day be applied to you ? — 
 You will then learn to appreciate the painful situation 
 of a victim of proscription, condemned to wander alone 
 
 I "In the midst of the wars I have carried on, I have rendered 
 Paris more comfortable, more healthy, more beautiful than it had 
 ever been. The Parisians received these benefits with songs of praise. 
 The great thing for them was— and I well knew it — to furnish dancers, 
 cooks, and fashions to all Europe."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 217 
 
 in foreign lands. Yes ! should a like misfortune ever 
 overtake you, the memory of the friends you have for- 
 saken will not fail to add to the weight of your woes ; 
 you will in vain invoke your household gods ; both men 
 and gods will turn a deaf ear to your lamentations. 
 Perhaps, even Barras may hereafter glory in having 
 been the victim of your ingratitude ; perhaps, even his 
 misfortunes will, in the eyes of the public, entitle him to 
 their commiseration, and soften the rigour of his lot." I 
 did not, on any occasion, hesitate thus to oppose the 
 First Consul to himself. I cherished vast hopes ; it 
 seemed to me that nothing could check his course. I 
 augured that his haughty and ardent spirit would work 
 out the regeneration of France, and that the same man 
 who had for a moment been seduced by the two liberal 
 ideas of 1789, had only pretended to adopt those of the 
 revolutionary chiefs who made use of the name liberty 
 the better to outrage her laws. 
 
 Nevertheless, in entering upon his illustrious career 
 through paths as yet untrodden, the astonishing genius 
 of Bonaparte supplied him with new harvests of glory. 
 As an intrepid warrior and a modest consul he appeared 
 before the world, sustaining with one hand the dignity 
 of the French name against foreign armies, while with the 
 other he repaired the injustice and the blunders com- 
 mitted by a corrupt oligarchy. Far from imitating the 
 arrogance and the show of his predecessors, he was 
 frequently seen walking in the palace of the Tuileries 
 with the doors thrown open, made himself accessible at 
 all hours of the day, was affable towards all, and listened 
 with attention to their complaints. Such was that great 
 man immediately after his promotion to the consulship. 
 
 The French people, fatigued by the violent agitations
 
 2l8 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the Revolution, ruined by the different factions which 
 had one after another usurped the bloody sceptre, were 
 now permitted to hope that their condition would be im- 
 proved under the First Consul. 
 
 His administration seemed just and pacific. Parties be- 
 came silent. All the talent of France became tributary to 
 his new government.^ He preserved the republican forms 
 and the shadow of liberty. All was not conducted by a 
 single absolute will ; and the flattering hope was enter- 
 tained that the day was not distant which should wholly 
 dispense with all republican forms. Before he reached his 
 present position the state was sunk under misfortunes, and, 
 whatever might have been the results of war, the French 
 nation had no other prospect than to wear a tyrant's yoke. 
 
 I soon ceased to lead the same life, and no longer fre- 
 quented the same social circles. This, doubtless, cost me 
 much, but, being the wife of the First Consul, I could not 
 appear without the pomp and splendour of Courts. I be- 
 came surrounded by throngs of courtiers. Ever thirsting to 
 attach themselves to the dominant power, those men, who 
 had long since habituated themselves to the saloon of 
 Versailles, and had lately encumbered the avenues to the 
 directorial palace, now contended with each other for the 
 honour of burning a grain of incense at the feet of the wife 
 of a general whose party had succeeded in overthrowing its 
 
 I It will be recollected that he directed the ceremonies of the ist 
 Vendemiaire, year 9. No fete since the Revolution had been so bril- 
 liant. The mayors of all the cities and deputations from every part of 
 France came to Paris, followed by an immense number of citizens of 
 the middle class, attracted by curiosity. The most splendid dinners 
 were given to the notables and public functionaries. All the prepara- 
 tions for this holiday were executed with equal ingenuity and magnifi- 
 cence. Fetes, plays of every kind, and illuminations filled the people 
 with joy.
 
 THK EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 219 
 
 adversaries. I entertained a sovereign contempt for those 
 gilded insects who wing their way towards the voice of 
 every dispenser of place or favour, whoever he may be.^ 
 "To-morrow," said I to some of them, "to-morrow the 
 King of France may reascend the throne of his ancestors. 
 Then will he behold the most of you inundating his palace 
 and soliciting all the favours of the Court. — You shovild 
 have remained faithful to your old masters ; and even now, 
 while you are uttering prayers for their return, you cannot 
 resist the temptation to suspend some of your crowns in the 
 temple of the false gods."' 
 
 But I did not forget what was due to the majesty of the 
 rank I occupied. I was skilful in reading the characters 
 of the men who lavished their homage on me. Some of 
 them craved the honour of attaching themselves to my 
 car, hoping by this means to perpetuate the peace they 
 had secured. Of this number were the emigrants. I em- 
 ployed the ascendency which I possessed over Bonaparte to 
 persuade him to repair the crimes committed by those who 
 had held the helm of state. I easily obtained from him the 
 favours I sought ; but they did not satisfy my generous 
 ambition. I wished my husband to surpass himself; I per- 
 suaded him to repeal numerous unjust and sanguinary 
 laws.^ I urged him to rebuild the temples of religion, and 
 recall her ministers, and thus appease the wrath of a just 
 God.- 
 
 1 The abolition of the law of hostages, the closing of the list of 
 emigrants, made him numerous proselytes among the party which 
 desired the return of the ancient regime, as well as that which openly 
 favoured the establishment of what they called a constitutional regime. 
 
 2 On seeing the remains of the great Turenne, which had escaped 
 the profanation of the tombs of the Kings of France, at St. Denis, 
 which had been carefully preserved in the Miisce des Monuments fvan- 
 (ais, I persuaded Bonaparte to have them transported to the church of
 
 220 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Bonaparte soon demonstrated his intention to pursue a 
 course entirely opposite to that of the Directory. This 
 noble conduct won him numerous partisans. To proclaim 
 liberty of conscience was to settle his power upon a solid 
 basis ; to be the first to furnish an example of submission 
 to the religious worship of his fathers was, in some sort, 
 to legitimate his power. I convinced him that the slightest 
 concession on his part to the principles of the innovators 
 would hurl him from the position in which Providence had 
 been pleased to place him ; and he finally yielded his 
 assent to my just observations. I now enjoyed the light 
 of a brilliant morn — a ray of happiness and prosperity 
 which had not appeared on the horizon since the year 1792, 
 At length the proscriptions ceased and numerous exiles 
 received permission to return to their country. Every- 
 body applauded this first step of Bonaparte in his political 
 career. 
 
 A great number of the emigrants saw their names 
 erased from the tables of the ostracism. Paris resumed 
 its ancient splendour ; talent, art and genius, no longer 
 compelled to hide themselves in obscurity, were recalled 
 and received into favour ; the men of letters were no 
 longer afraid to be seen in the public libraries, or artists 
 in the public museums ; manufactures everywhere revived 
 
 the Invalids, as belonging more especially to such a sanctuary. " You 
 will," said I, " satisfy alike the clergy and the defenders of the state, by 
 directing a pompous ceremony to be held in the temple consecrated to 
 the God of the universe." Lucien, then minister of the interior, pro- 
 nounced a discourse on the occasion, in which he retraced the great 
 actions of the hero of Salsbach. All Paris was present at the removal 
 of the precious reliques of the great captain who adorned the age of 
 Louis XIV. They were deposited with great military pomp in a vault, 
 on which more than a thousand colours, taken from foreign armies, 
 were suspended in festoons. — Bonaparte rejoiced in having followed 
 my advice, and thanked me for it. — Note by Josephine.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 221 
 
 and afforded employment to the labouring classes ; and 
 in all the principal cities a thousand apartments received 
 the poor and relieved the curse of beggary. 
 
 Thus, after a long tempest, men again tasted the 
 miraculous calm which succeeded ; the laws now became 
 more just, were peacefully executed, and France again 
 saw plenty and prosperity reviving in her midst, and 
 effacing the vestiges of those long days of sorrow and 
 mourning which had passed. 
 
 Everything tended to inspire confidence that the peace 
 of the Continent would restore internal and external tran- 
 quillity, and Bonaparte began to caress the idea of 
 sovereign power — an idea which I more than once strove 
 to banish from his mind. " What ! " said I, " thinkest 
 thou that thou hast done all ? No ! thy task is to 
 undertake much more. Thou art not yet a great man 
 in the eyes of all ; in truth, everyone has connected 
 himself with the army of the interior. The republic 
 no longer exists but in name, and thou already exer- 
 cisest the most absolute dictatorship. But never will 
 Europe leave thee in the peaceable possession of the 
 supreme power, unless thou shalt fortify it by force of 
 arms. 'Tis no longer the cause of nations against kings, 
 but the cause of kings against nations. So long as thou 
 shalt act in the name of the First Consul of the republic, 
 all parties will hasten to attach themselves to thee. But 
 remember, my friend, thou must direct the people by 
 means of that precious talisman ; for, should thy am- 
 bition ever lead thee to imagine the possibility of erecting 
 a throne upon the ruins of the consular power, then, 
 alas ! all the sovereigns of Europe will league together 
 to hurl thee from it, and in process of time thy posterity 
 will fall beneath the weight of combined Europe.
 
 222 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 " Thou mayst easily escape all such shoals ; thou 
 needest but to maintain a firm and determined will. 
 Yes, so long as thou shalt shun the thorny paths of 
 kingly greatness, the people will be penetrated with 
 respect and admiration for thee. But shouldst thou cast 
 thine eyes upon the diadem, all the brilliant illusions thou 
 hast created will vanish. Alas ! astonishment at length 
 ceases, enthusiasm subsides, and the fatigued spirit, seeing 
 all the ideas by which it has been seduced flee away like 
 a dream, learns with pain that it is disenchanted. 
 
 " The French people have passed over the vast field 
 of liberty. It is now necessary, according to thy system, 
 to lead them back to the point of departure without lettirtg 
 them perceive it, and to give to the national pride an 
 entirely new direction. 'Tis necessary to inspire thy 
 compatriots with all the docility of servitude without its 
 apparent humiliation. Hearken ! Thy generals will 
 recognise in thee only a general like themselves. The 
 more thou shalt heap fortunes and honours upon them, 
 the more will they seek to hurl thee from thy throne. 
 They will say, ' This man seeks to place himself above 
 us ; he has been recompensed by the contempt and in- 
 dignation of those whom he has elevated from obscurity.' " 
 
 Thus did I labour to prepare his mind for the great 
 part which he seemed destined to act. Everything seemed 
 to conspire to consolidate his power, and Bonaparte, 
 now become the first magistrate of a youtliful republic, 
 might have undertaken anything. I kept the example 
 of General Monk' before his eyes, and urged him to 
 follow it. "France," said I, "expects a generous action 
 
 I The English general who restored the Stuarts after the death of 
 Cromwell - an example which Bonaparte was wise enough not to 
 follow, however much his wife might ha\-e desired it. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 223 
 
 from thee. By restoring the Bourbons to the throne, 
 thou wilt, perhaps, do no more than accompHsh the 
 wishes of the nation.' I repeat, it pertains to thee to 
 rebuild the altars of the golden age of France, altars 
 consecrated to virtue."' Such were my secret conversa- 
 tions with the wonderful man who, by his genius, then 
 ruled over modern Gaul. 
 
 He alone made all appointments, all financial arrange- 
 ments, and dispositions. At his words hope awakened 
 in all hearts, and, from one extremity of the republic 
 to the other, nothing was heard but a continued concert 
 of praises and benedictions. The bleeding wounds in- 
 flicted during the Reign of Terror continued to heal ; 
 the saddest recollections began by degrees to be effaced; 
 the Frenchman began to resume his gay and amiable 
 character. 
 
 Thrice happy days which succeeded the horrible 
 night that had so long stretched its gloomy pall over 
 the most lovely country on earth ! Bonaparte, as he 
 had promised, made the Parisians forget that he had 
 ever taken part in the popular disturbances. 
 
 The concourse at ^lalmaison became immense. It 
 was no longer that modest solitude where I had re- 
 cently spent my leisure hours. I found myself at this 
 period a stranger, so to speak, to society, although the 
 company I saw at Malmaison was lively and interesting. 
 
 The most important points of diplomacy and politics 
 were discussed in my presence, and Bonaparte held a 
 
 I It seems almost incredible that such a sentiment should have 
 been uttered by Josephine. If, however, such was her real opinion, 
 the divorce was to be expected sooner or later, and the only thing 
 surprising about it is that it should have been so long postponed. — 
 Translatok.
 
 224 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 council there every day, at which the ministers attended 
 and presented their reports. The First Consul's chief 
 care was to conclude a peace with the European Powers. 
 He imitated the ancient custom observed by the Kings 
 of France on coming to the throne, of writing to all 
 the crowned heads ; but, receiving only vague or un- 
 meaning answers from the different Cabinets, he was soon 
 persuaded of the necessity of preparing for war. He 
 devoted himself to the pacification of La Vendee, and 
 at length announced that freedom of religious worship 
 was guaranteed by the new Constitution. A great 
 number of royalists were thus conciliated, and among 
 them George Cadoudal, I'Abbe Bernier, and many 
 others, who now delivered themselves up. M. de Frotte 
 endeavoured to impose more difficult conditions ; he 
 pretended that the unfortunate son of Louis XVL, 
 the last Dauphin, was still alive, and claimed for the 
 young prince the crown of France. His name was conse- 
 quently erased from the list included by the amnesty. 
 The First Consul wrote him a letter in the following 
 terms : — 
 
 " General, your head is turned ; the proof is now con- 
 clusive that the young prince died in prison at the 
 Temple. Moreover, and in any event, you will never 
 stand excused before God or man for seeking to per- 
 petuate this civil war. Your officers are all ready to 
 abandon it, and I advise you to imitate their example." 
 
 When those who called themselves the friends of 
 Frotte urged him to accept the amnesty which the 
 First Consul again offered him, " Leave me," said the 
 intrepid Vendean ; "I want neither war with you, nor 
 peace with Bonaparte." This courageous resistance was 
 the signal for letting loose his enemies upon him.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 225 
 
 I admired the noble devotedness of this Vendean 
 general, and without prying into the secret motives which 
 influenced his pohtical conduct, I cannot help here calHng 
 to mind the words of the First Consul, on receiving the 
 news of that brave man's death : — " The Court of Mittau," 
 said he, "has met with a great loss, for with such generals 
 as Frotte the Pretender might have hoped to see himself 
 one day recalled to the throne of France. As I cannot 
 gain over the Vendeans to my cause, I must enfeeble 
 and discourage them, and destroy those among them who 
 refuse to lay down their arms. I am sorry for Frotte ; 
 I should rejoice to count him among my friends; yet, 
 to have pardoned him would have been dangerous for 
 us both, and such being the case, the best way was to 
 get rid of him." 
 
 About this time, Fouche, then minister of police, in- 
 formed Bonaparte that a young man who had been arrested 
 and conducted to prison pretended to be the son of the 
 unfortunate Louis XVI. (104.) On the 21st January, 
 1800, the portal of the Church of St. Madeleine was 
 covered with a pall of black velvet striped with white, 
 and the King's will was stuck upon various churches, 
 and distributed through the saloons. This circumstance 
 produced some anxiety in Bonaparte's mind, and he 
 ordered all those evidences of mourning for the late 
 monarch to be removed. As to the impostor (for he judged 
 him to be nothing else), he directed Fouche to keep him 
 concealed, so as not to encourage either hope or curiosity 
 among the people ; for the consul sought every means 
 to efface all recollection of the royal family, which had 
 been so unworthily proscribed by the factions. Such is 
 the madness of revolutions ! — -Thus it was that the Stuarts 
 and the Bourbons saw themselves, each family in its 
 VOL. I 15
 
 226 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 turn, hurled from the pinnacle of absolute power into 
 the abyss of misfortune. 
 
 After the Vendean army had been disbanded, Bona- 
 parte applied himself unceasingly in making preparations 
 for the ever memorable campaign he was about to com- 
 mence ; he soon joined the army of reserve, and took up 
 his line of march towards Mount St. Bernard (105). It 
 belongs to the pen of history to describe the famous battle 
 of Marengo. I must be permitted to say that the death 
 of General Desaix was wholly unknown to Bonaparte. 
 The latter, however, could not much regret General 
 Desaix, for the glory of that day was wholly his own. 
 The young hero had made himself beloved and respected 
 alike by friends and foes. The First Consul had no 
 longer any rivals to fear ; this battle decided his fate as 
 well as that of the campaign in Italy. France was again 
 saved, and the second coalition overthrown (106). 
 
 From that time the plans executed by my husband, 
 whether of war or government, were better combined. 
 He had tried and learned the effect of the sudden irrup- 
 tion of a mass of men upon hostile ranks, dashing forward 
 with fury, and scattering all before it ; while, in politics, 
 he had become satisfied that, in case he should fail to 
 keep his place as First Consul, Italy would be his last 
 resource. He busied himself in the organisation of the 
 Cisalpine Republic, and appointed a French minister to 
 guard his interests there. 
 
 His entry into Milan was truly a triumph. " Every- 
 where," he wrote to me, " everywhere am I greeted 
 with the most lively demonstrations of joy." That city 
 seemed to rise into new life — rich in glory, happiness 
 and hope. 
 
 Bonaparte quitted Italy with regret. He looked with
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 227 
 
 pride upon the independence of that fine country ; it was 
 his own work. The general returned victorious to Paris. 
 His entry was, of course, pompous ; and his presence 
 again animated all hearts and silenced faction. 
 
 IS -2
 
 228 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 The bell was sounding the hour of twelve; a refresh- 
 ing slumber had just begun to weigh down my eyelids, 
 when I was waked by the harmonious accents of a voice 
 which enchanted my ear; it was my husband's. "Madam," 
 said he, "rejoice with me over your good fortune. Your 
 son marches rapidly to fame ; he will yet become one of 
 the greatest captains in Europe." — " Ah ! my Eugene," 
 I exclaimed, " thou wilt surely follow in the footsteps of 
 thy illustrious father, and, directed by such a general as 
 Bonaparte, thou wilt, perhaps, even surpass him." 
 
 I confess I could not meet the First Consul without a 
 feeling of pride ; and I clung to the hope that he who had 
 given the Austrians so impressive a lesson, would not be 
 slow to give a still more terrible one to the agitators 
 who were labouring to rend France asunder. She had 
 triumphed without ; but the wrecks of old factions still 
 menaced her within. 
 
 Unluckily, great numbers of emigrants were included 
 among the disturbers of the national quiet ; and the agents 
 of the police were busy in hunting out the principal royalist 
 conspirators. Emigrants and royalists were alike de- 
 nounced to the First Consul as the sworn plotters of his 
 ruin. The opinion was universal that the safety of France 
 depended upon his preservation. Many peaceable but 
 unfortunate men were persecuted anew, and put to death, 
 for no other reason than that the Government had dis- 
 covered amongst them many whose courage it feared. 
 
 I had, all along, done my utmost to put him on his
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 229 
 
 guard against the perfidious reports which were artfully 
 framed and presented to him, but now began to perceive 
 that my remonstrances were irksome to him. Our 
 differences of opinion began to interrupt our good under- 
 standing. I knew the inflexibility of his character, and 
 that, in his presence, no one had a right to hazard the 
 slightest observation. A despot in the bosom of his family, 
 he was the same at the head of the French Government ; 
 for his passions increased in strength in proportion to his 
 power. His ruling passion was to be obeyed in the 
 smallest matter, and I could by no means obtain an exemp- 
 tion from that law.^ The royalist cause appeared to me 
 grand and imposing; I saw the time was fast approaching 
 when the phantom of a republic would vanish, and had be- 
 come painfully convinced that my husband was labouring 
 only for himself. I did not dissemble my thoughts upon 
 this subject, nor conceal the consequences which his system 
 would produce. As consul, he moved the equal of crowned 
 heads ; and the consulship for life opened a boundless 
 career to his ambition. He witnessed with surprise the 
 exposure of the plot in which Arena took the lead. 
 
 I Often would Bonaparte wake Josephine at night, in order to read 
 to her. At other times he would question her as to how man}% or how 
 few, visits she had received. Marshal Duroc gave him a minute detail 
 of whatever passed at the chateau. The consul loved to be informed 
 of everything ; and the chronicles of the palace became more familiar 
 to him than to Josephine. I must here do him the justice to say that 
 he was very sensitive in reference to the internal regulations of his 
 household; in these matters he was minute. Rigorous in respect to 
 the manners of those who surrounded him, he more than once drove 
 from his presence persons who had been forbidden to approach him. 
 He very seldom reviewed a decree which he had made. Everyone 
 who was in his service was subjected to the most scrupulous surveil- 
 lance. The ladies, even, who attended Josephine dared not absent 
 themselves without his being informed of it ; nor could any person 
 be admitted into her presence without first being seen and scrutinised 
 by him.
 
 230 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Arena was a member of his family (107). That 
 thoroughgoing repubhcan had been so unlucky as to 
 express himself with too much boldness in reference to 
 Bonaparte. He was opposed to his usurpation, and to the 
 exercise of the immense powers which Bonaparte arrogated 
 to himself ; and finally accused him of the blackest in- 
 gratitude. This was enough to arouse Bonaparte's 
 indignation. He showed plainly that he could not pardon 
 so culpable an imprudence. Soon did the Argus-eyed 
 mercenaries of the Government take an oath to entangle 
 Arena in a snare from which he would escape only to 
 mount the scaffold. They endeavoured to persuade the 
 people that Arena had made an attempt upon the life of 
 his relative ; and, had the unhappy man not been so 
 
 indiscreet as to open and hand to General Or , his 
 
 countryman, a pamphlet, published in England, in which 
 the First Consul was vihfied and insulted, never would 
 the thought have been conceived that he was capable of 
 committing a crime abhorrent alike to the laws of God 
 and man. 
 
 It was, I think, on the loth of October, 1800, " Lcs 
 Horaces '' was to be played at the opera. I was indis- 
 posed^ on that day, and manifested a desire to remain 
 
 I On the evening of that day, the First Consul appeared to be quite 
 merry. He, however, in our conversation, crossed me repeatedly, and 
 finally accused me of wilful caprice. On my telling him that I felt 
 out of sorts, and could not possibly accompany him, "Well, madam," 
 said he, with some sourness, " you are, I see, really sick, and I will 
 write to the Pope to send me immediately his mine de bois." — " You are 
 joking," said I (his observations began to fatigue me); "of what are 
 you speaking ? " — " Eh ? of the Bambino," replied he, with a serious air. 
 "The Franciscans shall come forthwith, and bring it to you in their 
 coach ; they shall place it by your side, and stay here at my expense 
 until you are killed or cured. Do you understand ? " 
 
 This sally of fun cheered me up, and I asked him to explain this
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 23I 
 
 in my apartments. "To-day is the first representation of 
 the piece," said Bonaparte ; " you cannot help going." I 
 yielded to his entreaties. 
 
 In the midst of the tumult occasioned by the throng 
 of spectators, I noticed the minister of police, and the 
 prefect Dubois, entering, going out, and returning con- 
 tinually. I called the First Consul's attention to their con- 
 tinual bustle. 
 
 He seemed to understand it, and said to me, " 'Tis 
 nothing, attend to the play.'' Fouche came to our box, and 
 whispered to Bonaparte that he was surprised at not 
 
 religious phenomenon. " The Bamhino," he replied, "is a small wooden 
 Jesus, richly dressed, which is carried around to rich persons, who are 
 sick, and of whose recovery the doctors despair. The little saint is, 
 of course, always going the rounds. People sometimes fight for it at 
 the door of the convent, and snatch it away from one another. During 
 the summer season it is in constant use, although the price for using 
 it is then very high. But as we are now entering upon the month 
 Nivose, I can probably obtain it at a low rate. If you wish, madam, 
 I will immediately send a courier to Rome for it." It then occurred to 
 me that I had read in Dupaty, that the convent which owned the 
 Bamhino had no other patrimony. But our French monks preferred 
 dotation secured by mortgage on lands, and not without reason. And 
 yet, notwithstanding all their science and sagacity, mankind will ever 
 resort to superstitious practices. The people are the people, whether 
 in France or Italy ; they must have something wonderful to fill their 
 minds. Thus, Catherine de Medicis sometimes remarked to Charles IX., 
 " I have often heard it said to the King, your grandfather, that, in 
 order to live at peace with the French, you must keep them merry 
 and gay ; they must be kept agog either by a \ariety of shows, pro- 
 digies or miracles. My son, your people need to be humbled ; without 
 that, some evil genius will sooner or later rise up and trouble their 
 repose in the name of those liberties which they have been demanding 
 for ages. He will teach them to present their humble remonstrances 
 to you, with a view to obtain those liberties. 
 
 " Beware of renewing in your reign, my son, the faction of the 
 Maillotins or the Jaqueiie, and do not give your Parisians time to fill 
 their heads with vague notions and foolish discontents ; for, if you do, 
 they will give you no rest." — Note bv Josephine.
 
 232 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 seeing Arena and Demerville there, but that he had taken 
 means to secure the two Itahans.^ 
 
 My husband became sombre on hearing this, and 
 seemed agitated. " Let us leave the opera,'' said he; "I 
 have some despatches to send off to-night." He was care- 
 ful not to let me into the secret, for I must have become 
 alarmed, and my agitation would inevitably have disclosed 
 what it was very important to keep concealed. 
 
 I employed every moment which I could steal from 
 the pomp and display of greatness in succouring mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 A great number of unhappy families who claimed my 
 protection were presented to me^; in whose behalf I 
 employed all my influence with Bonaparte, to induce 
 him to repair the ravages occasioned by the stormy 
 times which preceded him. His humour was often 
 savage and repulsive, but the habit I had of teasing him 
 enabled me to renew my demand, and I sometimes suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining that which he had once refused. It 
 was universally believed that I should induce him to be- 
 come the General Monk of France. 
 
 The country was, I confess, at this time, on the point 
 of passing again under the dominion of its legitimate 
 masters ; but the fatal events of the 3rd Nivose exasperated 
 
 1 Those two conspirators were Ceracchi, a celebrated sculptor from 
 Rome and only rival of Canova, and Diance, an aged notary at Rome. 
 
 2 Josephine was easy of access. She extended her bounties to all 
 classes who had suffered in any degree during the Revolution. Nobles 
 and plebeians were by turns presented to her. She listened to their 
 complaints ; to some she made promises, to others she gave pensions. 
 Her goodness was inexhaustible, though her means often failed her. 
 The Americans* had strong claims upon her, and never did she refuse 
 them when she could, by means of her purse or her credit, satisfy them. 
 
 * Inhabitants of the French West-India Colonies. — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 233 
 
 Bonaparte, and scattered to the winds all my hopes of 
 .seeing the Bourbons restored (io8). 
 
 Some days before that frightful catastrophe, the First 
 Consul was looking out of one of the windows of the 
 Tuileries at the carousal. " Behold," said he to himself, 
 "a place without nobles; in time I intend to render it 
 worthy of his palace, who is yet to become the master and 
 arbiter of the world." I joked him a good deal about his 
 ambitious projects, and endeavoured to show him the 
 impossibility of accomplishing them. " Hush, madam," 
 said he ; "I shall become so much superior to other men 
 that my glory will eclipse the power of kings." 
 
 During the night preceding the day which was to see 
 that horrid crime committed which plunged so many 
 families into mourning, while I lay asleep (the soul has 
 its revelations, the heart its mysteries), the ghost of 
 Beauharnais appeared to me. I saw him, not as in the 
 days of his former splendour, but enveloped in his grave- 
 clothes, and resting in his coffin. His face was uncovered, 
 his eyes half shut ; his body was motionless. Suddenly 
 I saw him draw from his bosom an enormous dagger ; 
 he turned the glittering blade towards my eyes, and I 
 distinguished certain characters which were perfectly en- 
 graved upon it; the numbers 21, 24 and 28, struck me 
 singularly. On the reverse of the blade was a hieroglyphic 
 written in Greek, which he told me must not be explained 
 except into three times nine. I awoke in a fright, supposing 
 I had seen my first husband. Again my eyes closed, and 
 again the apparition presented itself to me. I awoke 
 again. A terrible beating at the heart told me how great 
 had been my fright ; my pulse was in the utmost agita- 
 tion, and a buzzing sound rang in my ears ; my limbs had 
 become stiffened, and so insupportable was my situation
 
 234 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that I cried out with absolute horror, " Awake, Bona- 
 parte, awake ; we are both threatened with the greatest 
 danger ! " 
 
 It can scarcely be conceived in what a distressed con- 
 dition he found me. A universal trembling seized me ; I 
 fainted, and my words died on my lips. When I came 
 to myself, he asked what was the cause of my agitation. 
 I told him the dream I had had. He joked me at suffering 
 myself to be affected by such puerilities, and pointed out 
 the consequences. I did not take his advice ; but, becoming 
 at length more calm, told him to be on his guard, for 
 plots were going on in secret against his life. I recom- 
 mended the minister of police to keep a closer and more 
 active watch over my husband's life. " It is my duty," 
 said I, "to use all my efforts to avert the danger which 
 menaces him." I was sad a considerable part of that day. 
 
 The weather was dark and cloudy, and I showed no 
 inclination to leave my apartment. The oratorio called 
 The Creation of the World, by Haydn, was to be per- 
 formed that evening at the opera, and Bonaparte had 
 made me promise to attend. I had, however, given secret 
 orders to the officers to have the guard de service doubled, 
 and to see that there was not the slightest obstacle in the 
 way of his suite, in passing along the streets. 
 
 At length, at eight o'clock in the evening, he got 
 into his carriage. Scarcely had he left the palace of the 
 Tuileries, when the noise of a terrible explosion was 
 heard. "Alas!" I cried, filled with fear and grief; "my 
 husband's life is in danger, and I am not by his side." 
 Notwithstanding the wise counsels of the persons who 
 were with me, I immediately hurried forward to the scene 
 of confusion, directing my carriage in the very track of 
 my husband's. An officer came to inform me respecting
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 235 
 
 his fate. I enquired and learned of him the unheard-of 
 disaster, a disaster deplored by all with sighs and groans. 
 Here was a disconsolate wife seeking among the slain for 
 a husband, whose looks she could no longer recognise ; 
 there, children, pale and shuddering with affright, uttering 
 cries of anguish at seeing the by-standers lift up the gory 
 body of a mother who was seeking them in order to 
 bestow on them the caresses of maternal love ; in another 
 place, a mother rendered frantic at the sight of the mangled 
 remains of her son, whose body had been hurled to the 
 clouds by the force of the explosion, and whose torn Hmbs 
 had fallen rudely upon the pavement ; and farther on, an 
 aged man bathing with his tears the inanimate face of a 
 daughter, the solace and prop of his declining years. In 
 vain did the by-standers strive to tear him from her ; in 
 vain did he perceive that his child was but a lifeless corpse, 
 covered with blood and smoke. " Leave me to die with 
 her," said he ; "I cannot survive her loss." Overwhelmed 
 with despair, delirious with anguish, he cried out, " She is 
 gone — she is no more ! "—and rested his aged head upon 
 her bosom, which had scarcely ceased to throb. 
 
 For a moment he remained immovable as a rock, then 
 uttered a piercing cry — and died ! Thus, on every side, 
 fathers, mothers, husbands and friends, were called to 
 mourn the loss of children, mothers and husbands. Whole 
 families, undone in a moment, were plunged into mourning 
 or sorrow that must follow them to the tomb. And well 
 might those who had lost their friends by that shocking 
 attempt, wish for the long repose of the grave. In the 
 anguish of my heart, I devoted to eternal execration the 
 authors of a crime hitherto unknown in history. Had it 
 affected only the head of the Gov'ernment, it would have 
 been attributed to the schemes of faction ; but falling, as
 
 236 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 it did, upon a portion of the French people, it was properly 
 regarded as an act of cold-blooded atrocity, without the 
 slightest colour of justification (log). 
 
 I visited, with deep emotion, the scene of carnage, and 
 was melted by the piteous wailings of the sufferers. Alas ! 
 what a scene of woe was there exhibited. 
 
 I joined my husband at the opera. On entering my 
 loge, I was so overcome at the sight of him who had so 
 narrowly escaped being eternally severed from me, that 
 my voice failed me. I obeyed my first impulse, and threw 
 myself into his arms. " Ah ! " I exclaimed, bathed in 
 tears, "will you, another time, believe Josephine? You 
 have escaped by a miracle the thunderbolt which those 
 who seek your life had prepared for you ! 'Tis to be feared 
 they may yet be more successful" — and my sobs choked 
 me. Bonaparte was not insensible to this proof of my 
 attachment and friendship, and did not hesitate fully to 
 testify his gratitude. He often recounted to his officers my 
 sad forebodings, giving as a reason for his disbelief of them 
 that such weakness would appear ridiculous. " Ah ! " said 
 I to him, " a wise Providence has in store means which are 
 concealed from our imperfect view ; we ought not to bring 
 into doubt a mystery which the human mind cannot 
 penetrate."^ 
 
 On our return to the chateau, I was afraid of a repeti- 
 
 I Man must have hope, he must have something marvellous, he 
 must have a future state ; for he feels himself made to live beyond this 
 visible world. Among the people, magic, necromancy, are but the 
 instinct of religion, and one of the most striking proofs of the necessity 
 of worship. 
 
 Men are ready to believe everything when they believe nothing. 
 They have divines when they cease to have prophets ; witchcraft 
 when they renounce religious ceremonies, and open the caverns of 
 sorcery when they shut the temples of the Lord — {F. A. Chateauhriand).
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 237 
 
 tion of the tragical scene. But the wise precautions which 
 were taken dissipated my anxiety. On hearing of the 
 deplorable event, all France believed the true authors to 
 be the plotters of the revolutionary troubles. The citizens 
 remembered, with renewed horror, that it was they who, 
 in the name of Liberty, had committed countless crimes, 
 had made Liberty blush, and stained with blood the hideous 
 cap which adorned her brows ! And it was secretly deter- 
 mined that those who still wore that abominable symbol, 
 great numbers of whom remained, should henceforth be 
 disabled from doing mischief. Three hundred persons, 
 known as anarchists, were exiled by the First Consul,^ and 
 thus the capital was delivered from the remainder of the 
 fierce republican chiefs of 1793 and the following years. 
 On the day that Arena and his accomplices ascended the 
 scaffold, the authors of the infernal machine were made 
 known to Bonaparte by the minister of police. The 
 public were surprised to hear that the Criminal Court 
 pronounced as guilty only two old Vendean officers (no). 
 Against them the minister of justice urged the prosecution 
 with great earnestness. 
 
 But afterwards the matter took another complexion. 
 The police redoubled their vigilance; numerous arrests took 
 place ; it seemed as if the horrible conspiracies of the reign 
 of Robespierre were renewed, when, under the pretext of 
 the same judgment of condemnation, throngs of the most 
 illustrious victims were put to death, and when many of 
 the persons accused of conspiring together never saw 
 
 I Seventy-five of them were transported to the Isles Sechelles, of 
 whom seventy-three there perished. The remaining two returned to 
 France at the restoration of the Bourbons. One of these engaged in 
 a new plot against the King, his benefactor, and was again condemned, 
 by the Court of Assizes at Paris, to be transported.
 
 238 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 each other until the day of their doom united them in 
 one common death. 
 
 It was well known that I openly aided all those who 
 had suffered from the Revolution. I even persuaded 
 Bonaparte to close the list of emigrants. I was anxious 
 to effect the erasure of the names of a number of them 
 from that list, but had to arrive at my object by careful 
 approaches. It is true that Fouche seldom refused me ; 
 and I must say that that minister concurred with me 
 in rescuing numbers from misfortune and banishment, 
 who returned to their country penniless, without any 
 prospect but despair and death. 
 
 The citizens began to feel secure. Their affection for 
 the First Consul daily increased. As to the Jacobins, he 
 well knew how to restrain them, and everybody at length 
 saw a calm succeeding to the protracted Revolution which 
 tore France asunder. The people began to believe them- 
 selves happy ; the wise and moderate hoped everything 
 from the progress of time, and the ministers of religion 
 now supplicated the Almighty to prolong the days of 
 the man whom, in their prayers, they called the pillar 
 of authority, the Cyrus of modern times (m). 
 
 Everything seemed to second my husband's views. 
 He became satisfied that it was he alone who knew how 
 to turn to a good account the courage and the immense 
 resources of this industrious nation, thirsting for glory, 
 and rich in all the treasures of a soil of inexhaustible 
 fertility. 
 
 But he became weary of inactivity, and could not 
 pardon himself for the inertness in which he found 
 himself. 
 
 France saw herself surrounded by friendly governments, 
 but the restless genius of Bonaparte soon disturbed the
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 239 
 
 tranquillity of her neighbours. He persuaded Spain to 
 declare war upon Portugal, and sent 30,000 men to 
 accelerate its conquest. In vain did I point out to him 
 the fatal consequences of his designs, and so firmly did 
 he cling to them, that he did not hesitate to say, " It 
 will be fine, madam, to see a Bourbon declare war upon 
 his relative to please Napoleon I. But be not surprised ; 
 you will see many more wars" (112). 
 
 I began to reflect upon the boldness of his project. 
 Surrounded continually by a throng of courtiers, he 
 finally persuaded himself that a commander of his repu- 
 tation ought to mount the throne, and that, by his 
 sword, he held the right to reign over France. 
 
 At length his ambition and the force of circumstances 
 cleared the way, and enabled him to reach that goal ; 
 and could he have found a new Merope, he would 
 doubtless have given her his hand, and thus, perhaps, 
 have legitimated the usurpation he then meditated. 
 
 He endeavoured, really, to earn the title of the Pacifi- 
 cator of Europe, and dreamed of concluding a peace, 
 which must in the end have proved entirely artificial. 
 He accordingly wrote to his brother Joseph, then French 
 minister at Luneville. The battle of Marengo had not 
 been decisive. The Emperor of Germany had, indeed, 
 been compelled to evacuate Italy, but he still possessed 
 prodigious resources. Bonaparte learned that his aide-de- 
 camp, Duroc, whom he had sent on a mission to Vienna, 
 was detained as a prisoner at the Austrian head-quarters. 
 
 This violation of the law of nations was relied upon 
 as a proof that the Emperor had refused to ratify the 
 treaty, and had chosen to place himself at the head of 
 his army. 
 
 On receiving this news, the First Consul ordered
 
 240 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Moreau to recommence hostilities. The Austrians pro- 
 posed an armistice, but the general would allow it to 
 continue but one hour, in order that the Emperor might 
 not have time for reflection. 
 
 He was of opinion, also, that, to put an end to the 
 interminable debates of the plenipotentiaries assembled at 
 Luneville, a battle ought to be fought. Moreau fought 
 one, gained a glorious victory at Hohenlinden, and moved 
 forward his head-quarters to within five days' march of 
 Vienna. 
 
 At length peace, the object of my prayers, was con- 
 cluded. The Emperor Francis confirmed the cession 
 to France of the Belgian provinces, and gave up entirely 
 the county of Faslekenstein with its dependencies, and 
 the whole of the province of the Frickstal ; in exchange 
 for these acquisitions, France guaranteed the immense 
 possessions of the House of Austria. 
 
 Bonaparte had for a long time meditated the conquest 
 of England. He often said to me, " I want to humble 
 that proud people ; I want to bend proud Albion under 
 my yoke ; I want to compel her Cabinet to beg peace 
 of me."^ — He never could pardon the British Government 
 for having refused his proffered alliance. He contrived 
 the plan of sending home to Russia, fully equipped, the 
 
 I His project of a descent upon England was serious. He wrote 
 to me thus : — " I have not assembled 200,000 men on the coast of 
 Boulogne, and expended 80,000,000 francs, merely to amuse the idlers 
 of Paris ; but Villeneuve's fleet has deranged everything. In vain has 
 the British Cabinet exerted itself to rekindle the war upon the Con- 
 tinent. The yoke of those islanders will not always be to the taste 
 of other nations. They will grow impatient under English domination. 
 And yet, they excel in everything; they have chalked out for us the 
 road of Revolution ; but to me, and to me alone, it belongs to humble 
 England in her turn. — Proud Albion ! in time thou wilt be compelled 
 to pass between my Caudine Forks."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 24I 
 
 prisoners he had taken from her ; but he was especially 
 careful to publish to the world that the French prisoners 
 in the hands of the Enghsh were kept in a state of the 
 utmost destitution. I observed to him very cautiously 
 that it was unheard-of for a people who called them- 
 selves hospitable to dishonour themselves by practices 
 so contrary to the laws of nations. " The Cabinet of 
 St. James," he replied with a smile, " whose hidden 
 schemes I have long divined, has demanded a decision 
 in regard to that ; but it will not obtain from me the 
 satisfaction it desires." 
 
 Thus he sought, by legitimate means, to satisfy the 
 expectations of all, in consolidating his power. Appointed 
 consul for ten years, the magistracy thus conferred by 
 no means satisfied his ambition ; he wished to be consul 
 for life. Nothing in his conduct indicated any intention 
 to part with an authority which he wished to possess 
 without reserve. He received some reproaches from the 
 Court of Spain, which he had drawn into a disastrous war, 
 and, to appease its resentment, he made the Prince of 
 Parma King of Etruria. 
 
 On my observing that the whole world would be strangely 
 surprised to see the chief of a republic creating a sovereign, 
 he said, " You don't yet see, Josephine, what my plans 
 are — you shall see what the future has in store for me ; 
 you know not, my friend, how difficult it is to resist 
 the most attractive of all seductions, supreme power and 
 glory. 
 
 " The necessity of securing my person and my power, 
 will, in conjunction with my ambition, determine me here- 
 after to place upon my head the crown of Charlemagne. 
 I can, when I set myself about it, work wonders. But, 
 meanwhile, I am trying an experiment on the French 
 VOL. I 16
 
 242 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 nation. I want it to imagine that, in calling the son of 
 Charles IV, to the new kingdom which I have formed 
 in Tuscany, 'tis only to prepare him to receive one day 
 the crown of the Bourbons. Yes, the Prince of Parma 
 will ascend the throne of Etruria as a stepping-stone to 
 the throne of France. The crown of France" — he 
 repeated with enthusiasm — " 'tis worthy of me ! At my 
 bidding, discord will scatter hatred and division among 
 the partisans of the royal family." Returning from this 
 digression, as if he feared he had gone too far, he 
 added, " Believe me, I shall maintain the new kingdom 
 I have created only so long as it favours my designs" 
 
 (113). 
 
 Surprise, a sad foreboding, seized me on hearing this. 
 
 But yet everything seemed to encourage Bonaparte's pro- 
 jects. The most friendly relations were established be- 
 tween his Government and the principal Powers of Europe ; 
 England and Portugal alone were at war with him. The 
 English public, who studied the character of the First 
 Consul, were full of the idea that he would take some false 
 step ; and the celebrated Fox continually represented to 
 those Powers who were now, to all appearance, friendly to 
 Bonaparte, that he would soon afford them an occasion to 
 repossess themselves of whatever they had lost. Such a 
 revolution appeared to Bonaparte impossible. " I will," 
 said he to me, " imitate William, Duke of Normandy ; it 
 will not be the first time that England has submitted to 
 the law of the conqueror. For a series of ages she was 
 governed only by foreign dynasties, whose chiefs had suc- 
 cessively vanquished her ; and I am well aware that, in 
 order to rely, with any safety, upon the conditions imposed 
 upon the vanquished, it is necessary that circumstances 
 should require their peremptory execution."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 243 
 
 Spain and Holland had now become subject to the 
 French Government, and were included among the other 
 nations of Europe in computing the enormous sacrifices 
 which were to be exacted from them. Peace at length was 
 concluded, and the arrival of Cardinal Caprara at Paris 
 filled the measure of the public joy. He brought the con- 
 cordat, signed by his Holiness the Pope (114). The im- 
 mense power which the First Consul at that time enjoyed 
 was assented to by all in the most flattering and honourable 
 manner. He was now hailed as the restorer of the ancient 
 worship, and on the day the French people celebrated the 
 establishment of the general peace, Bonaparte fully partook 
 of their generous emotions. 
 
 For him it was the most delightful of all triumphs, and 
 he said to me, with conscious pride, that there was no 
 public place where his name was not inscribed. " You 
 see," said he, "the people adore me ; the courtiers tremble 
 before me ; and the factions have ceased to be. Soon will 
 France say of them, 'They have all sunk into nothingness.' " 
 
 " You should," said I, " now imitate the example of 
 Augustus. That prince took care to restore plenty in the 
 capital of his empire, and strove to gain the popular favour 
 by means of sports, spectacles and presents, bestowed not 
 with a lavish, but judicious hand." 
 
 He condescended to consult me respecting the form of 
 government to be established in St. Domingo, having de- 
 termined to place General Leclerc at its head. I did not 
 conceal my fear that this fatal step would deprive France 
 of that beautiful colony. " Your brother-in-law," said I, 
 " will never know how to combine the address and vigour 
 which are indispensable to sustain him in so difficult a 
 position. Keep friendship with Toussaint-Louverture (115); 
 he can render you the most useful service in governing 
 
 16 — 2
 
 244 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the blacks. The moment you seek to strip him of his 
 authority you make of him an enemy who will have it in his 
 power to do you much mischief; while, on the contrary, by 
 flattering his ambition and preserving to him an honorary 
 title, he will necessarily attach himself to your cause. I 
 know the Americans — flatter them. The negroes have now 
 estabhshed their dominion over that colony, and will see, 
 with pain, the sceptre of power pass from the hands of 
 their ' colonel-general.' They will be continually afraid of 
 relapsing into their former slavery, should they be subjected 
 to European laws. Besides, of what can you accuse that 
 black chief? He has ever kept up a correspondence with 
 you ; he has done more ; he has sent his children to be held 
 by you, in some sort, as hostages, Methinks these are a 
 precious testimony of his devotion to you. You always 
 find motives for opposing my opinion, and I much fear 
 that your numerous family will yet be the source of all 
 your misfortunes." 
 
 I could never convince him on this subject. He as- 
 sured me that Toussaint-Louverture would soon fall into 
 his toils, and that he did not despair of having him brought 
 to France, where a strong citadel should be the pledge of 
 his fidelity.^ 
 
 I was at times so fortunate as to be relieved of the 
 tumult and tedium of political affairs. The Machiavelism 
 
 I The unfortunate Toussaint-Louverture was persuaded before- 
 hand that Fortune reserved a shameful death for him. In his youth 
 he had been told that in case he went to Europe he would there 
 perish ; hence the repugnance he manifested when he went on board 
 of a ship. He was always afraid to get out of sight of Cape Francis. 
 On being told that the First Consul of France wished to see him 
 and to treat him as an equal, as the First Consul of America, " It 
 is all over with me," said he; " I shall never again see my wife and 
 children ; the fortune that was told me will be fulfilled."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 245 
 
 of Courts, the dulness or the falsehood of most men who 
 managed to gain consideration, became to me insup- 
 portable, and I was compelled to adopt a set form of 
 words in my intercourse with them. I often resorted 
 to Malmaison to charm away my leisure hours. For 
 me that had become a kind of enchanted spot, although 
 the air I inhaled there was not so pure as it once had 
 been ; the breath of the informers had even there spread 
 its foul miasma, and I soon received an order from my 
 husband to admit no persons to visit me except such 
 as he should designate. How painful was this to such 
 a heart as mine ! I must, forsooth, forget the sentiments 
 of gratitude and friendship, as if the memory of those 
 who were dear to me could possibly ever be eradicated 
 from my heart! (ii6.) 
 
 " There are," said Bonaparte, " some nations which, 
 by the genius of a single man, or by mere circum- 
 stances, are raised from the bosom of obscurity to glory ; 
 but a proud and warlike people, fond of renown and 
 jealous of its fame, can never be beneath its fortune, 
 whatever it may be. Such has been this unique nation, 
 to which I feel myself happy to dictate laws. Her fall 
 will not soon follow her surprising elevation, nor her 
 celebrity be succeeded by a long silence ; it seems to 
 me she can never, while she has strength to prevent it, 
 fall into an inferior rank among nations. 
 
 " Never can France feel that her glory, her prosperity, 
 or the achievements of her arms, have been an expense 
 to her. During this rapid revolution every day has 
 been marked by a battle, every day has recorded a 
 triumph; it is the calendar of victory. It brings to 
 mind the words of one of our celebrated writers : ' A 
 single people has filled those glorious records with their
 
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 toils, their actions, their success ; to cite their deeds is 
 to praise heroes.'"^ 
 
 The pubhc feehng having now become tranquil, I 
 seized the occasion to entreat my husband to grant an 
 amnesty to the emigrants. My request was at first 
 rejected, but I renewed it shortly after, and told him 
 frankly that the concordat, having satisfied the timorous 
 consciences which were once afraid of schisms, he ought 
 now to give the same kind of guaranty to the partisans 
 of the monarchy, and prove to them that he was wholly 
 a stranger to the crimes of the Reign of Terror. Such 
 was the effect produced by these remarks upon him that 
 he immediately set about devising measures to ameliorate 
 the condition of the unfortunate outlaws. 
 
 Thus were some obstacles removed; yet others remained 
 and seemed insurmountable, and among them were the 
 affairs of St. Domingo, where nothing could overcome 
 or cure the popular madness. When General Leclerc 
 came to take his leave of me at Malmaison, I said to 
 him, " My brother, I part with you with anxiety." The 
 disasters of that expedition, the death of the commanding 
 general, showed how well-founded were my fears. 
 
 During the interval between the formation and the 
 rupture of the Treaty of Amiens, Bonaparte, in his inter- 
 course with the members of the tribunate, employed the 
 most efficacious means for reaching the goal of his 
 ambition. He insinuated to them that in decreeing an 
 honourable recompense to the first magistrate of the 
 republic, the national gratitude should not be limited ; 
 that he alone had rescued the country from the scourge 
 of war and the most terrible anarchy ; in a word, that, 
 
 I Thomas' "Eulogy."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 247 
 
 to recompense his eminent services to France, he ought 
 to be proclaimed First Consul for life. 
 
 Soon a deputation came, and announced to him that 
 the whole nation was filled with a sincere desire to give 
 him some shining token of its satisfaction and its good- 
 will. The senate hastened to confirm the resolution of the 
 tribunate ; and thus was completed a work of gratitude by 
 a generous people, who now looked upon the permanent 
 tenure of its chief as a recompense worthy of him, because 
 it was an act wholly national. 
 
 For form's sake, however, registers were opened to 
 receive the votes of the people, and during the time which 
 elapsed between this and his being proclaimed Dictator 
 for life, Malmaison was filled by a succession of fetes and 
 pleasures. People here usually conversed about the most 
 important matters, and here Bonaparte tasted whatever 
 of happiness he ever found on earth. That romantic 
 retreat, as he himself often said, elevated his thoughts, 
 and exalted his soul. There he was not disturbed during 
 his moments of reflection. He often told me that the 
 chateau of the Tuileries afforded him no inspiration ; that 
 he could not help feeling shocked, in a manner overawed, 
 on going into the cabinet of the late King. The two other 
 consuls whom he himself had appointed for life, laboured 
 with him daily ; they were constantly employed in dis- 
 cussing the great interests of the state. 
 
 Less fortunate than Madame de Maintenon, who was 
 permitted to sit in the council of Louis XIV., and raise 
 her voice in favour of the unfortunate, I stayed in my 
 apartment, or was occupied in the saloon in the reception 
 of the generals of the army. I received with marked 
 attention their wives and children (117), and felt confident 
 that I had secured their attachment to my husband's cause.
 
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 Alas ! in vain do we feel that whatever flatters us ought 
 to be perpetual. 
 
 I received the foreign ministers in the same manner, 
 and used my efforts to persuade them that the First 
 Consul, in all his signs, had no other object in view than 
 the good of France. Of many of them I read their most 
 secret thoughts, and the slightest smile upon their lips 
 taught me more of what really passed in their minds 
 than the most formal discourses. A word or a look was 
 instantly seized and interpreted by me ; and even Bona- 
 parte, who disbelieved everybody, was often forced to 
 admit that, so just were my ideas, he was afraid to 
 admit me to the least degree of confidence, for fear I 
 might dissuade him from his gigantic undertakings. In 
 this he was certainly right, for I blamed him for seeking 
 to disturb the peace of nations, and especially that of 
 Switzerland (118). I endeavoured to show him how 
 singular and how interesting was the situation of that 
 country in respect to its neighbours — that of enjoying 
 peace, while Europe was in a flame ; and that the de- 
 scendants of William Tell were worthy of the liberty 
 won by their fathers. " I shall," said Bonaparte, " so 
 embroil their affairs, that they will finally address them- 
 selves to me. I shall give them a Constitution ; I want 
 to be their mediator. What do you say to this fine 
 scheme ? " — " This plan," said I, " can only sow discord 
 through that noble and generous nation ; but you will be 
 satisfied. Yes, Helvetia will soon see herself torn by 
 intestine commotions. The cantons will not receive you 
 for a protector ; you will become irritated, and resolve to 
 speak to them like a master. The Diet will attempt to 
 assemble, and be dissolved by force ; great dangers will 
 environ them, but before separating they will publish
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 249 
 
 their protest against your despotism. You will invade 
 Switzerland, and will not hesitate to listen to the magis- 
 trates, who will offer to capitulate upon the ground of 
 the unconditional submission of their whole country ; and 
 it will turn out that the Helvetic Council, assembled in 
 the French capital, will submit to your authority. But 
 what will you gain by the struggle ? Little real advantage, 
 and only an honorary title ! But will future events 
 guarantee the continuance of this foreign alliance ? Hear 
 me. You will one day see that people, whose ancestors 
 so boldly defended their liberty against the German 
 Empire, blush at having bowed their necks beneath your 
 yoke, and ally themselves with other nations, who will, 
 perhaps, cause you to repent, but too late, having taken 
 them under your protection " (119). 
 
 I reminded him of the inconstancy of fortune, I wished 
 him to grow great by his merits, not by his politics. I saw 
 him sailing upon an agitated sea, surrounded by hidden 
 shoals ; his course became crooked and uncertain ; he 
 regretted having signed the peace with Europe ; he now 
 saw that his relations with England were becoming less 
 friendly. 
 
 That Power had been, apparently, anxious to conclude 
 with him a treaty of commerce, and some preliminary notes 
 had passed betwixt them ; but England immediately in- 
 creased her pretensions and rendered such a treaty im- 
 possible. Lord Whitworth presented the ultimatum of his 
 Court. He was instructed, in case of a refusal, to leave 
 Paris in twenty-four hours. Bonaparte seemed a little 
 surprised at this, and hesitated what course to take. He 
 said to me one evening, " Josephine, I am determined to 
 imprison some seven thousand English in the different 
 cities in France. I will teach these insolent islanders
 
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 who are visiting France that they repose in vain upon 
 the faith of treaties and the laws of nations — their 
 Government has obhged me to make reprisals. 
 
 " Great Britain would, if she could, conquer the whole 
 world. And it is she who, in the face of Europe, dares 
 accuse me of cherishing the project of getting possession 
 of the whole Continent. She asks me to let her keep 
 Malta for ten years, to take possession of the island of 
 Ampedoce ; and that the French troops shall evacuate 
 Belgium. Perfidious Cabinet ! Perfidious Ministry ! — 
 They demand what it does not and cannot depend on 
 me to grant. I will teach them that they cannot with 
 impunity sport with such a man as I am. I will seize 
 Hanover, and after that blow is struck, who knows where 
 my military skill will stop ? " 
 
 I listened attentively to this discourse, intermixed as 
 it was with laconic reflections, the scope of which was 
 that the English could do nothing without the powerful 
 intervention of France, and that, whenever he wished, he 
 could make himself master of their maritime commerce. 
 Henceforth he occupied himself exclusively in contriving 
 the best means of effecting a descent upon England. 
 " I "will take you to London, madam," said he often ; 
 " I intend the wife of the ' modern Caesar ' shall be 
 crowned at Westminster." 
 
 The remark is, perhaps, worth making, that at first I 
 regarded this idea of a coronation at Westminster as a 
 joke ; but so often did he repeat it that I began to see the 
 bottom of his designs. A rumour was in circulation that the 
 First Consul was intending to have himself elected Emperor 
 of the Gauls ; but the story was set afloat by his worst 
 enemies — and, besides, the high title he now bore was 
 every way worthy of the head of the French nation.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 25I 
 
 On one of those occasions which I knew so well how 
 to take advantage of, I turned the conversation upon that 
 subject, and spoke of it rather jokingly. He made me 
 little or no reply, and seemed to be absorbed in dreamy 
 reflection. On another occasion, when he was in the 
 same mood, he said to me sharply, " Well ! and 2vhy 
 should I not he croivned ? " I was, I confess, thunder- 
 struck at this, and could not for some moments make 
 any reply ; but becoming calmer, I told him plainly that 
 the project was but a snare his enemies had laid for 
 him." — ■" Who told you so ? " said he, in the same sharp 
 tone ; " I will show you the contrary. You know I am 
 the idol of the French ; everywhere am I hailed as a 
 guardian god. Of this you must have been convinced 
 since 1802. I am going to recommence my travels; but 
 my purpose is to give them a wider range. You shall 
 yourself, madam, see that there remains but one step 
 for me to take, and that I am resolved to take it. Per- 
 haps," added he with a smile, " you will be the first to 
 advise me to it — certainly your good genius will inspire 
 you with some lucky thought." I led him to the por- 
 trait of his father, which was hanging up half- concealed. 
 "Look," said I; "that man bore your name; as this 
 picture is hidden away in this dark chamber, so did your 
 father live in peace apart from the noise and strife of the 
 world. You see upon his garb none of the ensigns of 
 power and greatness. The world could say nothing of 
 him, except that ' he was happy.' "— " What must be done," 
 said Bonaparte, "to become happy?" — "Fly ambition," 
 was my answer ; " recall to the supreme power the de- 
 scendants of your kings, and place them on the throne ; 
 then shall you be the first of men, if you shall be able 
 to live independently of them." He threw himself into
 
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 my arms, and promised to reflect upon the counsel I had 
 given him. I pressed to my bosom the heart that had 
 never yet had cause to reproach itself with having placed 
 distinction and honour in opposition to the happiness of 
 France ; but which, alas ! was never to find repose but 
 in the bosom of the earth ! ^ 
 
 I I have seen Bonaparte at times when it was impossible for him 
 to dissemble, when he was compelled, on the instant, to avow or dis- 
 avow sentiments by his actions. His passions were never veiled from 
 me, for I have known him in the secrecy of intimate confidence ; and 
 nothing illustrates a man's nature so clearly as the different changes 
 in the fortunes of a party. Would to Heaven his prudence had been 
 equal to his courage; but, alas! one man cannot unite in himself all 
 the virtues ; one's virtue shines in the combat, another's in council. 
 My husband really believed himself a universal genius. — Note by 
 Josephine.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 253 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Bonaparte now put in execution the intention he 
 had formed of visiting the departments. He commenced 
 by visiting the battle-field of Ivry. "There," said he, 
 pointing it out to me, "there is the plain where a man, 
 truly worthy of being the King of France, subdued, like 
 a kind father, his rebellious subjects. I think I should 
 not have waited so long as he did to make myself master 
 of the capital. I should have preferred to be fed by the 
 besieged, rather than to feed them. It would be an 
 honour, no doubt, to resemble Henry IV. ; but I cannot 
 think of imitating his example during every period of his 
 reign." — " You will never have a Duke de Sully," I re- 
 plied ; "the Bearnais had a true friend in that virtuous 
 Mentor ; he never blushed to listen to his sage counsels, 
 or to follow them on almost all occasions. Will the 
 impetuous Napoleon ever meet with ministers equally 
 enlightened and equally honest — especially if his first care 
 is to throw among them an apple of discord ? The choice 
 of a friend will be, perhaps, still more difficult ; but it 
 will be to me a pleasure, at all times, to endeavour to 
 supply the place of one." 
 
 We continued our route through Evreaux, Louviers, 
 Rouen and Caudebec. " Here," said Bonaparte to his 
 officers, as he showed them Ivetot, " here was once a 
 famous kingdom. I can now scarcely distinguish it upon 
 the map." He was quite humorous on the subject of 
 the great power the lord paramount must have possessed. 
 I observed that the lord paramount was, perhaps, happier
 
 254 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 than he ; to which he rephed, in the words of Caesar, " I 
 would rather be the first in a village than the second in 
 Paris." 
 
 We pursued our journey without stopping. Suddenly 
 the wind changed, the skies became overcast and fore- 
 boded a storm ; the lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, 
 and the heavens were in commotion. Our horses took 
 fright ; one of them in falling trod on the feet of one of 
 our guides. This accident gave me much pain. Alas ! 
 how quickly do such accidents, in the contemplation of a 
 feehng heart, bring together the most remote conditions 
 of human life. We cannot but recognise, in the victim of 
 a lamentable accident, a being equal to ourselves in respect 
 to all the vicissitudes of life. We feel then that the least 
 of mortals is our fellow. I directed him to be carried to a 
 neighbouring house, and all proper care to be taken of 
 him. I learned soon after that he had recovered from 
 his wounds. 
 
 The rain began to fall, and our men looked about them 
 for some hospitable tree under which we might take shelter. 
 They perceived, at the foot of a mountain, some houses, 
 situated in an enclosure. At the entrance of a hamlet 
 upon the slope of a hill, around the foot of which a 
 limpid stream wound its serpentine course, we descried 
 a sort of colonnade formed by the trunks of trees, which 
 overhung the abode of a humble peasant. We followed 
 a narrow footpath which led round a house whose glazed 
 windows were cut facet-wise. An old man was sitting at 
 the entrance of his cabin,' with his arms crossed upon 
 his breast, and apparently in profound meditation. — "Plain 
 and virtuous old man," murmured Bonaparte, "thou enjoyest 
 peace under thy roof; remorse, suspicions, the projects of 
 ambition, trouble not thy delicious simplicity — 'tis the
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 255 
 
 simplicity of innocence and goodness," The master of 
 this humble dwelling showed us into a perfectly neat room, 
 where the villagers were wont, during the hot summer 
 months, to enjoy the refreshing air. Immediately behind 
 it, stood an ancient castle in ruins. The surrounding 
 hill-tops were crowned with aged oaks, which seemed 
 suspended from the lofty pinnacles — lovely scene of tran- 
 quillity and happiness. 
 
 After sitting a moment, the consul turned towards 
 the old man, who seemed to be unquiet. " What do you 
 desire, my good old man ? " said he ; " speak freely." — 
 " Citizen," said he, " citizen, you see here my garden, my 
 wife, my daughter-in-law; but my grandson is not here" 
 (and he turned his hat over and over). "Alas! ambition 
 spurred him on, as it has so many others, and he followed 
 a great man to the wars. Charles never thought of 
 becoming equal to his master, but he was disposed to 
 serve him faithfully. During his march, he was arrested 
 for an act of insubordination ; he is to be tried by court- 
 martial, and this beloved child, citizen, the prop of my 
 old age, my sole remaining hope, must sink under the 
 sentence of condemnation, leaving us nothing but despair 
 and disgrace ! I know the rigour of our military laws. 
 I myself, inon officier,'' said he, raising his voice, " I 
 myself, at Fontenoy, was guilty of disobeying orders. 
 I passed our lines without permission from my superiors. 
 I wanted to chastise three Englishmen who, from the 
 top of the redoubts, insulted me and my brave comrades. 
 * You French dogs,' said they continually, ' we will flog 
 you — we will flog you.' A council of war condemned 
 me to have my head broken for the crime of desertion. 
 
 "On my way to the place of execution, I saw the 
 Duke of Richelieu passing by, and said to him, ' My
 
 256 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 general, I die contented — I have made several of our 
 cowardly foes bite the dust ; the honour of a Frenchman 
 required it.' 
 
 "This exclamation so pleased the marechal that he 
 reported it to Louis XV., who was in our ranks, and the 
 beloved monarch granted me a pardon, and did me the 
 honour to attach me to his august person, as one of his 
 guard." 
 
 " My friend," said Bonaparte, "every soldier must obey; 
 without subordination, what would become of our armies ? 
 The soldier who runs away is unworthy of his colours, 
 and ought to be punished. Examples are necessary to 
 restrain mutineers." At these words the old man trembled 
 in every joint ; to him it seemed the voice of the accusing 
 angel ; and as though it had been the day of doom, he 
 stood awaiting his terrible sentence. 
 
 The father of Charles was kneeling before a badly 
 executed plaster bust of the First Consul, weeping, beating 
 his breast, and tearing his hair. " No, citizen," said he 
 to my husband, sobbing, " I will not leave thee till thou 
 hast promised me thine intercession, in favour of my child, 
 with him whose image thou seest here ! " Bonaparte was 
 r.eally affected by this touching scene. 
 
 The unhappy father fell almost senseless at our feet. 
 In vain did we endeavour to console him ; he became 
 cold, almost inanimate ; for some time we thought him 
 struck with death, and had him removed to a lower room 
 in the house. As to the aged grandfather, his reason 
 seemed, for a moment, to wander ; he broke in pieces 
 the bust of the consul, and tore up a petition he had 
 hastily prepared. Wringing his hands in agony, unable 
 to utter a word, he showed us by mute signs that he 
 despaired of surviving the loss of his grandson. One
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 237 
 
 of the sisters of the condemned soldier entreated us to 
 intercede on behalf of her brother, and addressed me 
 these few words, not knowing to whom she spoke : 
 " People say that Madame Bonaparte is so kind, so 
 indulgent, that her husband never refuses her anything 
 she asks." 
 
 " You are right," replied the consul, with a smile ; 
 "she manages so well that her advice is always followed, 
 especially if its object is to save some one who is unfor- 
 tunate. You cannot do better than to pronounce the 
 name of Josephine, for it will secure the pardon of your 
 brother. Nay, I will myself solicit Bonaparte in his 
 favour, and endeavour to have him enter the Consular 
 Guard." 
 
 He left with the family some tokens of his munifi- 
 cence. I placed upon the finger of the young suppliant 
 an enamelled ring, and assured her it was a remembrancer 
 that would secure to her a dowry on her marriage. "And, 
 for my part," said my husband, " I will give Charles his 
 first pair of epaulets; he shall receive them upon the 
 field of battle, as a reward of his bravery." These 
 honest villagers knew not who we were. 
 
 But now the sound of the village bells struck our 
 ears, and the mayor, at the head of a deputation from 
 his commune, was making preparations to inflict upon 
 us a tedious harangue. " Let us save ourselves speedily," 
 said I to Bonaparte ; " the First Consul of the republic 
 ought to shun all the displays of gratitude on the part of 
 those whom he has rendered happy." 
 
 He rose and left the cabin ; I followed after him. We 
 
 stopped a moment to take breath on the summit of a high 
 
 hill which was crossed by the road, and then directed our 
 
 course towards a city which we saw before us. It could 
 
 VOL. I 17
 
 258 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 be distinguished from the sea by the foam of the waves 
 that dashed upon its shores. We had only got half way 
 there, when the storm overtook us again in the midst of 
 a plain. At a short distance from us, the lightning struck 
 the hut of a herdsman, who had estabhshed himself with 
 his cattle in this solitary place. The consternation was 
 general; the ^^ Petit Pierre'' was struck with lightning; we 
 sent him some money, and the people from a neighbouring 
 farm came to the assistance of the wounded man. We 
 continued our route to Havre. Bonaparte wished to in- 
 spect the port. He made some seductive promises to the 
 inhabitants, and distributed his gold with dignity. Next, 
 we passed Fecamp, Dieppe and Gisors, and, when I 
 least expected it, my husband informed me that he was 
 taking me to Belgium. He well knew he should here 
 find numerous partisans, and hastened to meet them. 
 His entry into the Low Countries seemed a real triumph. 
 Next to him, his wife necessarily became the object of 
 public fetes. 
 
 The most distinguished personages were, one after 
 another, presented to us. The most of them were the 
 same men who had fomented the revolt against Austria. 
 The Belgians had now thrown themselves into the arms 
 of the French revolutionists, who had no God, and had 
 prostrated themselves before all the idols to which those 
 men had successively sacrificed. They had, likewise, 
 submitted to the famous general who had invaded the 
 estates of the Pope, plundered the chapel of the Casa 
 Santa, and concluded with the Holy Father a concordat 
 in which he had inserted a great many pretended organic 
 articles secretly tending to undermine the papal power(i2o). 
 
 I laughed at this strange association, and still more at 
 the insipid harangues to which Bonaparte felt it his duty
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 259 
 
 to listen, and to which he was constrained to respond ; 
 for he treated all these speeches as the voluntary offerings 
 of hearts which had espoused his cause. 
 
 But, for my part, I thought very differently of them. 
 The Belgians appeared to me to be inconstant in their 
 affections. They are fond of changing masters. And 
 yet it is true that the fertility of their country affords 
 their rulers considerable advantages. They would, were 
 it possible, consent, by means of a tribute, to number 
 among their allies a Power sufficiently imposing to 
 protect and defend them ; but never to have a prince 
 who should claim to be their master. Such was my 
 opinion respecting that nation. 
 
 "And yet they are among the best people I have met 
 with," I said, laughingly, to Bonaparte. " Well, if you 
 are seized with a fantasy of reigning, endeavour at least to 
 reign over a fertile country, and over men as sensible and 
 as generous as the Braban9ons. Possessing the character 
 I know them to possess, you will profit by their wealth, 
 and know how to repress their spirit of rebellion. You 
 must subdue their chiefs by holding out a brilliant prospect 
 of protection from France." 
 
 These ideas struck him with surprise, but he finally 
 admitted them to be just. 
 
 We spent some time in viewing the fine scenery, which 
 attracted our admiration. ICverywhere we met with com- 
 fort, and left liberal proofs of our generosity. The consul 
 was affable and insinuating in his manners, and the officers 
 who accompanied him were agreeably surprised at it. 
 
 Having returned to Paris, he pretended still to caress 
 the idea of a descent upon England. He thought to dazzle 
 the enemy by his splendid preparations. For this purpose 
 he directed the building of an immense number of flat- 
 
 17 — 2
 
 26o SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 bottomed boats, which were to be collected together at 
 Boulogne. He then transferred his head-quarters to that 
 city, in order to superintend, in person, the embarkation of 
 the troops. 
 
 For many days there was nothing but fetes and re- 
 joicings. He wished it to be credited, from pole to pole, 
 that an invasion would take place, and encouraged all those 
 who offered to spread the news. The biscuit was already 
 put on board ; the horses were embarked ; the army 
 covered the beach ; and a forest of masts seemed to rise 
 from the waves and extend itself to Dover. 
 
 The plan of the consul was to publish it abroad that he 
 was going to effectuate his designs upon Ireland. 
 
 In the midst. of these great events, which seemed to por- 
 tend an interminable war, he ordered Fouche to circulate a 
 report that he was about to go to Ostend, and pay a visit to 
 the United Provinces. His flotilla was immense, and, to 
 please one of his sisters, we had the novelty of a sham-fight 
 at sea. But while he thus held everybody on tiptoe, he 
 suddenly appeared at Malmaison, where his unexpected 
 arrival occasioned profound reflections. He despatched an 
 order to the minister of police, enjoining upon him to make 
 a profit of the public curiosity ; to give out that the French 
 Government had used all its efforts to bring about a peace 
 with the British Cabinet ; that, till now, peace had been 
 the object of his most ardent wishes ; that he had neglected 
 nothing to procure its benefits to the nation he represented; 
 but that the head of the Government, indignant at so much 
 useless delay, had commanded new battles to be fought. 
 " His native foresight," responded the people, with admira- 
 tion, " was quick and just — for rumour proclaims that 
 General Augereau has already invaded Ireland, and that 
 probably the national colours are now floating upon the
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 261 
 
 towers of Dublin." Thus did the secret agents of the man 
 whom it seemed impossible to resist express themselves ; 
 and thus did he manage to escape the observation of his 
 own ministers, and to hide his own secrets from their 
 curiosity. 
 
 As has been seen, I used all my endeavours to inspire 
 Bonaparte with the desire to recall the Bourbons. " Why," 
 said he " do you wish me to restore to them a crown which 
 I am almost certain of preserving for myself?" Every 
 time I recalled the subject to him he had some new reason 
 for opposing me. Still, I affirmed that all the royalists had 
 their eyes fixed upon him, and that they all regarded him 
 as a liberator. He replied with coldness, " I shall soon 
 dissipate their enthusiasm in a manner that will no longer 
 leave any veil upon my purposes." When in my presence 
 he affected a perfect unconcern, and yet I often came upon 
 him suddenly and found him in a state of sombre agitation ; 
 this state of mind was not usual with him. I often said to 
 him, " When we are in the enjoyment of a great felicity 
 we are apt to forget that time, enveloped in events which 
 are concealed from our view, may, in a single day, extin- 
 guish the happiness of our lives. How happens it that you 
 are pleased with following a dangerous road ? You stand 
 in need of a guide, and 'tis I who claim the privilege of 
 being your guide." He would answer in a sort of frenzy — 
 
 " Of what use are the counsels of a woman to me ? " 
 
 " But if that woman be your wife and your best 
 friend ? " 
 
 " That furnishes an additional reason why I should 
 conceal my purposes from her."^ 
 
 I Fulvius, one of the friends of Augustus, one day heard that 
 prince, now become old, deploring the losses which had occurred in 
 his family. lie said that two of his grandsons were dead, that
 
 262 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 What, then, were those new designs which I had not 
 the art to penetrate ? what was he about to attempt ? 
 I fell into a train of the most gloomy reflections. I was 
 surprised by this new kind of policy which Bonaparte had 
 adopted ; alas ! I was far from seeing what a mighty 
 career he had resolved to run. 
 
 Never at the Tuileries was the name of the Duke 
 d'Enghien pronounced, although the memory of Louis 
 XVI. was there held in singular veneration, and the 
 picture of the unfortunate king adorned one of the apart- 
 ments of Malmaison. Bonaparte would sometimes stop 
 and gaze at it as he passed it by. Speaking of the 
 late king, he said, "I pity him !— he deserved a better 
 fate. Why did he not mount on horseback on the 
 loth of August ? He had cannon ; he had good troops 
 who were faithful to him. The National Guard of several 
 of the districts were admirable. With those powerful 
 auxiliaries he might have crushed the rabble without 
 
 Posthumus, the only one of them remaining, was Hving in exile, a 
 victim of calumny, and that he now saw himself forced to call to 
 the succession the son of his wife. Pitying the lot of Posthumus, 
 he seemed inclined to recall him from banishment. Fulvius related 
 this conversation to his wife, who related it to the Empress. The 
 latter complained bitterly about it to Augustus, saying that, instead 
 of recalling his grandson, as he had long thought of doing, he had 
 made her hated by him ivhom he had destined to the evipirc. The next 
 morning Fulvius came, according to his custom, to salute the Emperor 
 and bid him good morrow, when the latter replied, " I wish you were 
 a wiser man." Fulvius understood his meaning, and returning im- 
 mediately home, said to his wife, " The Emperor knows that I have 
 betrayed his secret, and I am going to put myself to death." — "You 
 will but do an act of justice," replied his wife; "for so long have 
 we lived together that you ought to have known me, and to have 
 been on your guard against my weakness — but it is my duty to die 
 first ; " and she took her husband's sword and was the first to kill 
 herself. — Plutarch .
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 263 
 
 pity." Then, rubbing his hands, he added, " Had I been 
 King of France at that time, I should have been so still.'' ^ 
 
 Thus, far from faiUng in respect towards his king, 
 my husband always awarded to him a just tribute of 
 praise for his intelligence and his virtues. If he seemed 
 to forget the benefits he had in his youth received 
 through his means, it was because he supposed himself 
 beholden for them to the state, and not to individual 
 munificence. He did not, like many others, make a 
 parade of his joy at seeing the Revolution perpetuate 
 the woes of the descendants of Henry IV. He said, 
 with evident feeling, " that the death of Louis XVI. 
 greatly affected him ; that if the nation had, at that sad 
 epoch, entrusted him with the same power that he then 
 possessed, the virtuous descendant of St. Louis would 
 have been living still, for the good of the people and 
 the prosperity of France." 
 
 Such was Bonaparte. Capable of the most generous 
 actions, his soul shone out with the radiance of true 
 greatness and independence. You had, however, to avail 
 yourself of his first impulse — the first movement of his 
 heart. The moment reflection resumed its sway, he was 
 no longer the same man. Without asking for counsel, 
 he received it readily and kindly. He wanted no Mentor, 
 and yet nothing was easier than to make him come to 
 
 I In vain would the hapless monarch have smitten the rebels. 
 It was no longer time for that. Louis XVI., as one of our publicists 
 has said, was dethroned before he became king. At that fatal epoch 
 of our Revolution, the virtuous prince could not make himself 
 respected, nor do the good he would to his country. And he used 
 to repeat, in bitterness of soul, the saying—" A king can only do the 
 good which he has at heart when he has the necessary authority. 
 But if he be trammelled in his operations, he does more hurt than 
 good."
 
 264 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a resolution. Whatever tended to his glory, whatever 
 flattered his ambition, whatever made known to him his 
 enemies, so electrified him that he instantly seized upon 
 it as an occasion of showing himself an extraordinary 
 man. In making his debut in politics, he committed some 
 errors. He imagined that at a single blow he could crush 
 the most powerful political sect ; on the contrary, he 
 multiplied it. France believed that in Bonaparte she had 
 a protecting genius, but found in him only a warrior 
 maddened by a thirst for despotic power. In attempting 
 to intimidate the royalists, he separated them from his 
 cause. By according special favours to the Jacobins, he 
 incurred the contempt of most of them. And there re- 
 mained to him only that class of men who know how 
 alternately to flatter and betray the same person, accord- 
 ing to the position he happens to hold — those political 
 serpents who wore every kind of mask by turns, and who 
 were seen at every epoch disguising themselves accord- 
 ing to circumstances. Such individuals were the only 
 persons who could never in my eyes find any lawful 
 excuse. With my accustomed frankness, I told these 
 chameleon-like gentlemen, who professed to approve of 
 the government of the First Consul — " I have seen you 
 by turns burn incense to the revolutionary executive 
 committees, and to the Directory. To-day you are cring- 
 ing at my husband's feet. Begone ! I supremely detest 
 men of three faces." The more I learned how to enlist 
 partisans for Bonaparte, the more did I distrust those 
 who at this period surrounded him. The French Revo- 
 lution, like a new sun in the firmament, had so dazzled 
 and turned their brains, that they could see no beauty, 
 grandeur nor truth in anything but philosophy, and to 
 that they clung.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 265 
 
 I one day asked Fouche, whom I often saw at Mal- 
 maison, what was the occasion of his frequent nocturnal 
 visits. The minister seemed embarrassed ; he knew not 
 how to answer me. I did not insist, but soon succeeded 
 in finding out partially what I wanted to know. A des- 
 patch which I chanced to find lying on Bonaparte's 
 bureau, signed by the minister of justice, put me in 
 possession of important information. I discovered that 
 a new plan of conspiracy had been made known to the 
 First Consul, and that a person named Quarelle, who had 
 been condemned to death, and was about to be executed, 
 had petitioned to be pardoned, promising, at the same time, 
 to make some important revelations. He gave out that 
 the plan was to re-establish the Bourbons upon the throne, 
 and to restore vigour to the ancient government. This 
 was enough to awaken the activity of a police which 
 had, from necessity, become dark and sly in its move- 
 ments. I did not hint that I was almost initiated into 
 this mystery, but for some days let Bonaparte float on 
 from one uncertainty to another. 
 
 He preferred to be alone in his cabinet the principal 
 part of the time, though he loved to show himself in 
 public at the Tuileries. He there passed frequent re- 
 views of his troops on the spot he had embellished, and, 
 after they were over, received in a dignified manner the 
 foreign ambassadors and other persons who were presented 
 to him ; but scarcely would these ceremonies be over 
 than he would hasten away to IMalmaison. There the 
 idlers from Paris daily assembled in great numbers ; but 
 he absolutely refused to see any but the generals, or 
 persons attached to his service. Couriers came and 
 went at all times of the day, and despatches succeeded 
 each other with rapidity. At length I learned from Murat
 
 266 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 that our frontiers were still menaced, and that a great 
 number of emigrants had landed on our coast. Every- 
 one talked about this unexpected demonstration, and 
 spread all kinds of tales through the capital, with the 
 air of mystery which arouses while it piques curiosity. 
 Fame's hundred tongues, so often filled with falsehood, 
 soon circulated the news that a prince of the House of 
 Bourbon would do the emigrants, who had lately landed, 
 the honour of placing himself at their head. 
 
 At this time the wisdom and firmness of the Consular 
 Government threw a lustre on the name of its chief. His 
 numerous victories, the prosperity of the nation, and its 
 continually increasing domains, the admiration of the 
 French for the young hero who held the reins of govern- 
 ment, all seemed to promise him a continuance of the 
 popular gratitude and homage ; and yet there were those 
 who then were seeking to overthrow him. " Great 
 storms," said his friends, " are rarely followed by a 
 perfect calm." The conspirators were the more danger- 
 ous that they assembled and carried on their plots in 
 darkness. But orders were promptly given to visit upon 
 their heads the consequences of their crimes. Veteran 
 soldiers were sent forthwith to secure their persons, 
 conduct them to Paris, and subject them to be judged 
 according to law. 
 
 Soon after this it was announced to my husband that 
 General Moreau was arrested, as well as several officers of 
 the so-called royal army. Bonaparte had a long conference 
 with Regnier, his grand judge. He ordered him to make 
 a prompt report to the legislative body and to the tribunal, 
 upon this important capture, and to place great stress upon 
 the reconciliation which seemed to subsist between the in- 
 former and the accused (121).
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 267 
 
 The most of the generals were envious of the celebrity 
 of these two chiefs, who had carried the glory of the 
 French name to the extremities of Europe. Moreau had 
 shown that he knew how to conquer, and still spare the 
 blood of his enemies. An effort was made, which seemed 
 likely to be successful, to throw his merits into the shade. 
 A spy, decorated with the title of an honest man, came 
 regularly to Fouche, and gave an account of all that was 
 said or done at the hotel of the modest Moreau. He 
 permitted himself to put the most unfavourable interpre- 
 tation upon certain innocent railleries which passed at a 
 dinner-table at which he was a guest ; and the consul, 
 who affected to be superior to every human weakness, 
 took great umbrage ^t them. He was, moreover, afraid 
 of the influence of this great captain, and this was enough 
 to determine him to resort to the tribunals. Had the 
 letter which I wrote to Moreau been faithfully delivered 
 to him, I should have succeeded in inducing Bonaparte 
 to listen to his justification ; but how could I succeed in 
 this while 1 was ignorant that the very messenger I had 
 employed was a traitor ? My husband expressed the 
 utmost indignation at what he called my mad enterprise. 
 He showed me the very letter I had written to Moreau, 
 and in which I remarked to him that a great man like 
 him had nothing to fear ; that the First Consul could 
 not but pardon him, and that he ought to solicit the 
 favour of a private interview with his successful rival. 
 Antony and Caesar, two famous foes, were, at length, 
 reconciled, and enjoyed each other's esteem. The present 
 circumstances were similar. I presumed to ask my 
 husband, trembling, what would be his determination as 
 to the fate of that unfortunate general. He replied, 
 gloomily, " Death, or perpetual imprisonment." — " Ah ! "
 
 268 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 said I, "by what right would you deprive your fellow of 
 his life ? Do you think that because you are sheltered 
 from human laws you will be able to escape those of the 
 Deity ? Do you believe that God will neglect to ask of 
 you an account of the precious blood you are about to 
 shed ? " 
 
 " I have," said he, " a right to do as I please with 
 those whom I govern." 
 
 " It is true," I replied, " that, according to the code 
 of monarchs, you can do no wrong, nor act otherwise than 
 in accordance with the interests of the people, your 
 subjects. Should Pichegru be arrested, would you send 
 him, also, to the scaffold ? Remember, my friend, those 
 two brave men were before you in the career upon which 
 you have thrown so much lustre. In the eyes of sensible 
 men, your sole merit consists in being more lucky than 
 they. Have you not fought under the same banner, 
 and, in turn, conquered the same enemies ? A warrior 
 like you should present them, with one hand, the olive 
 branch of peace, and, with the other, return to them 
 the sword." ^ 
 
 These words made him dumb ; he cast a look upon 
 me which showed how horrible was the commotion that 
 reigned within. His heart was touched, and he would 
 then, perhaps, have granted a pardon had not his am- 
 bition, excited by the Sejani who surrounded him, carried 
 him to extremes. He could brave anything. 
 
 Thus, for several days, a spirit of discord reigned 
 betwixt us, and our conversations became more and 
 
 I And yet there is not the sHghtest doubt of the guilt of both 
 those generals. Moreau afterwards served the allies with Russian 
 epaulets on his shoulders, and was killed at the battle of Dresden, 
 while by the side of the Emperor Alexander ; a tolerable proof that 
 Napoleon was in the right in regard to him. — Translator.
 
 TFE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 26g 
 
 more embittered by the same subject of dispute. Although 
 Bonaparte in pubHc ever observed a proper respect for me, 
 yet in private our attachment was far from being what it 
 had been. And yet I was the first to bring about a 
 meeting. I had enquired of Fouche respecting this con- 
 spiracy.^ " Nothing," said he, " shows that any scheme 
 has been formed to assassinate the First Consul. All 
 that appears certain is that several of these conspirators 
 have formed the design of dressing themselves in the 
 uniform of guides, and by means of this disguise to 
 seize him either at Malmaison, on a hunting party, or 
 on a journey, and to carry him to England. Don't be 
 alarmed, madam ; the invincible Bonaparte has nothing 
 to fear from these conspirators." 
 
 The particularity of these details made me attentive 
 to whatever was passing around my husband. His reserve 
 towards me had become extreme, and his conduct artificial. 
 He was always anxious to act as mediator among his rivals, 
 towards whom he observed, outwardly, the forms of friend- 
 ship and esteem, whilst the agents of his power fomented 
 divisions amongst them, the better to effect their ruin. 
 I continued my observations, noting, with scrupulous care, 
 every smile among the courtiers whom Bonaparte admitted 
 to his intimacy. I was no longer the depository of his 
 confidence. I had spoken to him the language of feeling, 
 and had interceded in favour of those who had prepared 
 the brilliant destinies of France. This was enough to 
 render me the object of his dislike. 
 
 I To asscissniate Bonaparte in the street, under the ridiculous 
 pretence of making 'u'nr upon him. It was composed of royahsts 
 paid by the British ministry. Moreau was undoubtedly in its 
 secrets, and ready to declare himself the moment of its first success. 
 Never, perhaps, was traitor more just!}' punished. — Translator.
 
 270 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Unhappily, a letter was written to him from Stuttgart, 
 that the Duke d'Enghien had called in question his mili- 
 tary reputation, and denied him the qualities of a great 
 captain. He himself, on the contrary, was persuaded 
 that his glory was not due to the merits of his generals, 
 and that it was his presence alone that electrified the 
 courage of the army. 
 
 He could not pardon the grandson of the great Conde 
 for the irony and ridicule which he had cast upon him. 
 
 The stratagem was cunningly managed by the enemies 
 of the consulate. But the duke was, in reality, a great 
 admirer of Bonaparte, whom certain persons took great 
 care to exasperate by their insidious reports. From this 
 time did the chief of a warlike nation conceive a guilty 
 design, and, in a moment of wrath, he swore to execute 
 it. His flatterers, as base as they were cowardly, dared 
 counsel him to order the death of a new Germanicus. 
 
 He hesitated long to strike the blow. " It is," said 
 he to Murat, "a personal insult to me. I would willingly 
 fight the prince, and beHeve him a brave man." Such 
 was the struggle of feeling within him that for several 
 days he scarcely showed himself to his courtiers. 
 
 My surprise and grief were extreme on learning from 
 Duroc^ that the Duke d'Enghien was a prisoner in the 
 dungeon of Vincennes (122). 
 
 My first emotion was fright, but it was succeeded by 
 indignation. I hesitated to give any credence to the 
 report, which, alas ! turned out to be too true. Cer- 
 tainly, those who contributed to this shocking crime — 
 which, par excellence, they call a stroke of policy — were 
 doubly guilty. 
 
 I A distinguished general, who afterwards became grand marshal 
 of the palace.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 27I 
 
 I here affirm, in all the sincerity of my heart, that 
 the moment Bonaparte had heard of the prince's arrival, 
 and was informed of his anxious desire to speak to him, 
 he felt the utmost concern. " What hinders me," said 
 he to Murat, " from gratifying his wish ? " — and added, 
 a moment after, " I will go to Vincennes." 
 
 The mute play of Murat's features showed that he 
 disapproved of this sublime impulse. It made such an 
 impression upon Bonaparte that he quickly repented 
 himself of this impulse of sensibility. " No," said he, 
 " I cannot see him without pardoning him. But who 
 knows ? Yes, 'tis better not to be seen there." 
 
 A vile courtier, who was standing by his side, in- 
 stantly chilled all his impulses of humanity by telling him 
 that " the French princes who had taken refuge in England 
 had long been seeking to recover the sceptre of St. Louis,'' a 
 remark which produced upon him a terrible impression. 
 The homicidal words aroused him from the drowsy 
 melancholy into which he seemed to have sunk. "Ah! " 
 answered he, "the Bourbons think to overthrow my power! 
 Folly ! I will soon show them their servants are but 
 fools ! " After this it was impossible to approach him. 
 He looked at his watch every moment. I observed he 
 was in a state of the utmost agitation ; he walked to and 
 fro with a step so rapid that he seemed to run from one 
 apartment to another. 
 
 His situation at this time presented the picture of a 
 man animated by the fatal hope of doing a criminal act. 
 I asked him what was the cause of his inquietude, but 
 he gave me no answer. After some moments of silence, 
 he said, " You will soon know, madam ; but, on many 
 accounts, I could wish you might remain for ever ignorant 
 of it. Pity me, pity me, Josephine " (he laid great stress
 
 272 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 upon these words) ; " I wish to spare myself inevitable 
 regrets. Would that I could revoke my orders! but there 
 is not time." 
 
 The clouds that covered his features could not conceal 
 the pangs which rent his soul. He sighed and seemed 
 not inaccessible to remorse. And, immediately on seeing 
 Cambaceres, for whom he had sent, he seemed to repent 
 of his half-formed resolution. My husband made a sign, 
 and I retired. I had retreated but a few steps, when the 
 conversation began to be very warm. The Second Consul 
 (Cambaceres) told him the condemnation of the Duke 
 d'Enghien would incense all France against him. 
 
 " Sir," said Bonaparte, in reply, " when I permitted 
 the Elector of Baden to let the prince reside in his terri- 
 tory, it was with a hope and a motive for the future. I 
 let the descendant of the Condes estabhsh himself in that 
 place that I might keep my eye on him, and have him in 
 my power, whenever I should need him. Why talk of 
 neutrality ? Sir, no country which conceals and harbours 
 a great enemy can be regarded as neutral by the nation 
 whose interest is most concerned in his seizure. The 
 danger in such a case justifies the violation of territory." 
 This language seemed to silence Cambaceres, though he 
 still repeated to him, " 'Tis an attempt which honour, 
 justice, the laws of nations, and even policy forbid." 
 
 While leaving the First Consul's apartment, he gave 
 me a hint (for I waited in a sort of an ambuscade) not 
 to mention the conversation to anyone. He said to me 
 with a serious air, " Madam, you must unite your efforts 
 with mme to save your husband. He is about to commit 
 an act unworthy of himself, and which he will repent of 
 hereafter." He then related to me all the details of the 
 horrible manoeuvre which certain wretches had plotted
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 273 
 
 in order to assure themselves of the person of the Duke 
 d'Enghien, as well as that of Gustavus Adolphus, who 
 was supposed to be with him. 
 
 I invoked the God of vengeance to exterminate, with 
 His bolts, the guilty wretches ! I addressed to Heaven the 
 most fervent appeals to save the prince. I resolved to 
 make a last effort in his favour, but knew not what other 
 means I could employ. To enter Bonaparte's room by 
 any kind of stealth was impossible ; he had ordered that 
 nobody on earth, whoever it might be, should pass into 
 his cabinet. And, notwithstanding this peremptory order, 
 I ventured to undertake it. On hearing the first word I 
 uttered, he rose to shut the door upon me, which I had 
 but just slightly opened. " Ah ! " said I, " the design 
 you have formed was suggested by two traitors ; I know 
 them well. The certainty which you now have that I am 
 fully apprised of it renders your position more painful 
 perhaps." — "This language, madam," said he, "is too 
 offensive to be calmly listened to ; retire, madam, to your 
 apartment." 
 
 In the trying situation I was now in, my only remain- 
 ing recourse was to Bonaparte's family. 
 
 Madame Letitia and one of his sisters came to see 
 me as soon as they heard of my deep affliction. A con- 
 fidential hillet, which I had sent to them by one of my 
 women (in order to avoid suspicion), had mformed them 
 not only of the fact that the prince had arrived at 
 Vincennes, but also of the -bloody tragedy that was pre- 
 paring to be enacted there. We resolved to seize the 
 first favourable moment to present ourselves personally 
 to the consul. Murat himself seemed overwhelmed with 
 alarm, and it would then have been difficult, indeed, to 
 recognise in him the faithless counsellor. " Go in, 
 VOL. I 18
 
 274 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 general," said Fouche to him, on coming out of Bona- 
 parte's cabinet, " go, dare present yourself before him ; 
 you will be well received." — " What is the cause of his 
 rage ? " said Madame Letltia, with an air of deep concern. 
 " I do not know," replied Fouche, with a constrained 
 smile, " but he has certainly fallen into a terrible fit of 
 anger ; " and the prudent minister of police quickly got 
 into his carriage, and drove off from the chateau of the 
 Tuileries. Still, I entertained a hope ; I hoped that my 
 husband would be disarmed of his purpose on seeing his 
 victim. I wanted to bring them into each other's presence. 
 I knew Bonaparte, and I knew he could never resist such 
 a scene. On the other hand, I was well aware that such 
 a meeting would be formally opposed by the members of 
 the military commission, who were to assemble to try 
 the duke. But I strangely mistook his intentions, and 
 especially those of certain persons who surrounded him. 
 
 Officers with despatches were every moment passing 
 by us. To one of them I put a question ; he merely 
 answered that he had just come from the principal officers 
 of the place. 
 
 The bell had hardly sounded the hour of eleven at 
 night, when Bonaparte, accompanied by Murat and several 
 other generals, came out of his apartment. His mother 
 appeared to disapprove the project of her son. She said 
 to me in a low tone, " I will try to change his mind ; 
 try to do the same yourself." The consul's step seemed 
 hesitating, feeble ; - he reeled as he went, and was heard 
 to say to himself, '■'■He will he condemned in a moment!'' 
 
 O heavens ! what images presented themselves to our 
 minds. We all knew the character of the man whose 
 mercy we were about to implore. We threw ourselves 
 at his feet, and bathed his hands with our tears, begging
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 275 
 
 him, at least, to put off to some future time the death 
 of the prince. My daughter, who was now with us, 
 told him several times that, by giving the Duke d'Enghien 
 his liberty, he would cover himself with glory and acquire 
 a most valuable friend. All was useless ; he rejected 
 our prayers, and the evil genius which then governed the 
 great man rendered him immovable in a transaction into 
 which he had been drawn by others, and in some sort 
 against his will. He begged us, in the most expressive 
 tone, to withdraw ; and while we, judging from the excess 
 of his emotions, supposed he was about to yield to our 
 entreaties and our tears, he walked hastily from the part 
 of the room where we were standing. We soon redoubled 
 our entreaties, and his mother addressed him in these 
 words : " You will be the first to fall into the pit you 
 are now digging beneath the feet of your relations." 
 
 I was no longer afraid to renew my efforts upon him. 
 I depicted to him, in the most glowing colours, the trans- 
 ports of a deeply afflicted heart on being released from 
 impending destruction, and what would be the depth of 
 his own sorrow and repentance should he persist in 
 executing so odious a scheme ; and said to him, " Had 
 the prince been made a prisoner in France, perhaps, by 
 your inflexible laws, he would be worthy of death ; but 
 he was at Ettenheim, and under the special protection 
 of the Elector of Baden. That Power must disapprove 
 your culpable infraction of treaties binding upon nations. 
 Certainly its Government was ]:)ound to extend its hos- 
 pitality to this unfortunate Frenchman. It did not do so 
 without your consent, and the duke did not, therefore, 
 infringe the convention which you yourself recognised. 
 And, although your word should be inviolable, the grand- 
 son of the great Conde has been dragged from a country 
 
 18—2
 
 276 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 which he had a right to regard as his asylum. What, 
 henceforth, will the partisans of the First Consul say ? 
 They will say that Bonaparte has, in sacrificing a member 
 of the Bourbon race, shown that he is about to open for 
 himself a way to the throne of Louis XVI . Long ago, 
 O my husband, have I divined your secret intentions on 
 this subject, and would that I could to-day bring you to 
 share the sorrows which afflict me ; but 'tis in vain, 'tis 
 in vain ! 
 
 " The blood of the Duke d'Enghien will be upon 
 your head ! What did I say ? On the head of those 
 men who are perfidious enough to advise you to tarnish 
 your own glory ! " and at the same time I cast a look 
 of contempt upon several of those who were standing by 
 him, I saw their countenances change to the paleness 
 of death ; but immediately recovering their accustomed 
 audacity, they showed me the barbarous order which was 
 to deprive France of one of its noblest and most illustrious 
 supporters.^ 
 
 I While Bernadotte was minister of war, the Duke d'Enghien 
 came secretly to Paris ; it was during the summer of 1799, and while 
 Bonaparte was in Egypt. The republican government had but little 
 strength, and the Bourbon party hoped to effect a prompt rising in 
 their favour. 
 
 All eyes were then turned towards Bernadotte, as well on account 
 of his renown as his quick decision in circumstances of danger — 
 which is a characteristic we find in all men destined to act an 
 important part. The Duke d'Enghien, by means of a mutual friend, 
 informed Bernadotte where his residence was in Paris, and at the 
 same time offered him the sword of the High Constable of France 
 if he would consent to re-establish the Bourbons on the throne. 
 " I cannot serve their cause," answered Bernadotte ; " my honour 
 binds me to the will of the French nation — but as a man, a descendant 
 of the great Conde, has confided his safety to me, no harm shall 
 befall him. Let the Duke d'Enghien then leave France immediately, 
 for in three days his secret will no longer be mine ; I shall owe it
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 277 
 
 " I am conspired against on all sides," said Bonaparte ; 
 " I am watched continually by spies — perhaps I am now 
 on the very eve of being victimised by some of their 
 infamous plots — and you ask me to temporise ! No ! I 
 will prove, in the face of France, that I will never play 
 the part of Monk ; 'tis wrong to impute such an idea to 
 me. 'Tis my duty to give to the men of the Revolution 
 a pledge which will satisfy them that I will never over- 
 throw the edifice whose foundations they have laid, and 
 which it is my pleasure to finish. I owe them this 
 assurance ; it is necessary to their security ; and I have 
 this day given it to them by offering them the head of 
 the last of the Condes."^ 
 
 A few minutes passed, and two superior officers pre- 
 sented themselves : " I intrust these ladies " (meaning 
 his mother and sister) " to your care. Order the neces- 
 
 to my country." 'Twas thus that a truly magnanimous heart found 
 means to reconcile duties apparently the most opposite. — " Mem. pour 
 servir a Vhistoire dc Charles XIV. J can, Roi dc Suede et de Norwige." 
 
 I When the head of Pompey the Great was presented to Caesar, 
 he turned away his face and shed tears. I confess, Bonaparte scarcely 
 restrained his own when he read the letter which the Duke d'Enghien 
 wrote him only an hour before his death (that letter was not delivered 
 to him until six hours after the prince was executed). His first 
 emotion was that of surprise — the next, of grief. " I should," he 
 
 said to me, " have pardoned him, and his death is the work of 
 
 He has rendered himself criminal in my eyes, and in those of 
 posterity, by concealing from me the last wishes of his old master." 
 After a moment of reflection, he said, " Such and such men " (with- 
 holding their names) " are guilty. They might have prevented my 
 signing that illegal order, which must necessarily render me odious 
 to France, and in iny opinion tarnish my memory. But the 
 C. D. M. S. have destroyed me. I was greatly mistaken in hoping 
 to find a Sully among the number of those courtiers. Their souls, 
 petrified by hate and ingratitude, can only animate the body of a 
 Philippe de Comminc, and I have unluckily met with such a character 
 among them." — Note by Josephine.
 
 278 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sary riders to follow our carriages." I heard no more. 
 The moment the words " council of war," assembled to 
 try an illustrious emigrant, struck my ear, I fell down 
 senseless. But recovering from the shock, I again threw 
 myself at Bonaparte's feet — I embraced his knees, and 
 covered them with my tears. " I will not," cried I, " I 
 will not leave you until you have pronounced the pardon 
 of the Duke d'Enghien." " Pardon ! pardon ! " was my 
 continued ejaculation. " But what do I say ? Of what 
 crime is the prince guilty whose life I ask you to save ? 
 Alas ! my friend, I conjure you, for the sake of yourself 
 and of your own glory, abstain from consummating so 
 great an outrage ; hasten to revoke your orders. There 
 is nothing so much charms Frenchmen as generosity ; 
 there is no virtue they admire and cherish so much as 
 clemency, for it is by preserving the lives of men that 
 man most likens himself to the Deity. The greatest event 
 in your life will be the having it in your power to save a 
 Darius ; the most lovely trait in your character, the will 
 to do so. Think, Bonaparte ; reflect, O my friend, re- 
 flect that by pardoning this Frenchman, who was so 
 unfortunate as to be born near a throne, you give him to 
 your family, to your wife, to all who feel an interest in the 
 fate of the descendant of the greatest of heroes." He 
 wanted to get rid of me, to withdraw himself from my 
 earnest entreaties ; but in vain. I held him so firmly in 
 my embrace that all his efforts to escape were for a long 
 time fruitless ; the more he tried to thrust me off, the more 
 firmly did my arms grasp him. I fastened myself to his 
 person, and in that attitude passed through two of the 
 apartments, walking on my knees and clinging to him ; 
 he, meanwhile, struggling to disengage himself from me. 
 But, alas ! my strength was soon exhausted. He took
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 279 
 
 advantage of it to relax my hold ; he escaped, shut 
 himself up alone, and left me to the care of my daughter, 
 and to the unspeakable pain of having found him in- 
 exorable. 
 
 The hours passed on ; the one designated for the death 
 of the prince approached. When the fatal sentence of the 
 military court was submitted to him, this man whom his 
 flatterers had surnamed " the Intrepid," was filled with 
 emotion, under the conviction that it was necessary for him 
 to sign it. In vain did he attempt to hide from himself 
 the consequences ; that illusion had vanished. During 
 that fatal night he dreamed of returning from the castle 
 of Vincennes ; I heard him several times cry out involun- 
 tarily, " If there is still time, save the Duke d'Enghien. 
 But, then, shall I call that young prince to act a part on 
 the world's stage, or shall I leave him to his own im- 
 pulses — to end his life as he has begun it, in the modest 
 practice of the private virtues, in the exercise of generous 
 actions, and the study of the sciences ? " And he fell into 
 a lethargic sleep. Once I heard him apostrophising the 
 perfidious courtiers who surrounded him, and reproaching 
 them with having led him too far. At daylight he was 
 in such a state of mental agitation that he awoke with 
 agonising cries. I ran to his aid. Oh, how shall I describe 
 the shock of the opposite emotions which rent his soul ! 
 He was in the utmost distress ; he did not know where 
 he was, nor what had happened to him ; he looked wildly 
 around him, and remained plunged in most sombre re- 
 flections. Recovering himself, however, by degrees, he 
 made me a sign to leave him to himself. I noticed that 
 by turns he appeared filled with anguish and frozen with 
 aff"right. He asked repeatedly whether his brother-in-law 
 (Murat) had yet returned from Vincennes. He rang the
 
 28o 
 
 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 bell in order to revoke his sentence ; but it was too late— 
 the Duke d'Enghien had passed to immortality. 
 
 At four o'clock Murat and Hulin arrived at Malmaison. 
 "Give me immediately," said he, "the minute of the sen- 
 tence pronounced against the prince. I disavow it ; I 
 pardon him. Read the heart of Bonaparte ; never had 
 he the thought of becoming a Cromwell."^ 
 
 Those generals gazed at each other in surprise and 
 silence, but informed him that the sentence was already 
 executed.^ He stood speechless, and fell into a profound 
 reverie. 
 
 Bonaparte, however, quickly rose, and passed into his 
 
 1 "Cromwell," says Hume, "had the faculty of shedding tears 
 whenever he wished." Bonaparte could not endure to see a woman 
 weep. He must, then, have done great violence to his own feelings 
 in resisting the entreaties of Josephine, whom he loved ; for that 
 amiable woman had used every means in her power to divert him from 
 his purpose. 
 
 2 As soon as the sentence of death was pronounced, the Duke 
 d'Enghien was conducted to a dry fosse at the castle of Vincennes, 
 where fifty Mamelukes were drawn up in waiting for him ; and he was 
 there shot by torchlight. He refused to permit his eyes to be bandaged, 
 saying, "The Bourbons know how to die." To the last moment he 
 displayed the utmost heroism, He cut off a lock of his hair, and prayed 
 that it might be sent to Mademoiselle Rohan, a young lady then at 
 Ettenheim, whom it was supposed he had wedded.* 
 
 * The author of the " Cabinet de St. Cloud," God , assures us that Bonaparte 
 
 was present at the execution of the prince, and that neither Josephine nor inadame 
 mire soUcited his pardon. On the contrary, tlie Empress informed me that her hus- 
 band felt the most lively curiosity to see the duke ; that he spoke to him without 
 being known ; that he (her husband) was in the room where the military commission 
 was assembled ; that he noticed the surprise of the prince and of the members of the 
 Court, when they heard his name pronounced ; that consternation was depicted on all 
 their faces ; that he himself was moved by the scene, and was on the point of showing 
 himself to the illustrious unfortunate, but that the fear alone of passing for a man 
 without character had made him adhere to the resolution which his flatterers had 
 persuaded him to adopt. He was not, however, present at the death of the son of the 
 Condes. Assuredly, he was guilty of having ordered it, but he did not sanction it by 
 his presence. He returned immediately to Malmaison, where he had a sharp alterca- 
 tion with Josephine, who had so uselessly pleaded the cause of the prince. When he 
 was informed that this deed of blood had been consummated at the moment fixed 
 upon, he was struck with a sort of terror, and for some minutes remained overwhelmed 
 by his feelings, at which his wife was equally astounded.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 281 
 
 cabinet, followed by several general officers who seemed, 
 from the air of consternation they wore, to blame his 
 political conduct, and especially the cowardly assassina- 
 tion^ which Night had covered with its sable veil. For 
 some days he remained taciturn, carefully watching all 
 who approached him and fearing to find among them 
 some new Ravaillac. 
 
 From one end of France to the other, this unheard-of 
 crime was denounced ; the enemies of the monarchy, far 
 from seeing in it any security for themselves, complained of 
 
 I It is due to the memory of Napoleon to say that, though the 
 world's censure has been lavished upon him for the part he acted in the 
 tragedy of the Duke d'Enghien, there were circumstances of extenua- 
 tion, if not of justification, connected with it. The duke was entitled to 
 no favour on account of his being a Bourbon prince — not the least. 
 
 He was an emigrant, and subject to the laws of France against 
 emigrants. He had voluntarily fled from the country to which, as a 
 Frenchman, he owed allegiance, and joined the ranks of her enemies. 
 He had shed, or endeavoured to shed, the blood of his own countrymen, 
 then struggling for their freedom and independence against a world 
 in arms. 
 
 This he exultingly admitted on his trial before the military 
 commission. By the laws of the republic — indeed, according to the 
 codes of all civilised nations — this was treason, and deserving of 
 death. It is true, the Germanic territory was violated by Napoleon, 
 in sending into it an armed force to arrest him ; but that was a 
 question to be settled, not with the duke, but with the sovereign of 
 Baden. 
 
 It is also true that his trial by a court-martial was a departure from 
 the mode prescribed by the civil code of France, and on that account 
 unauthorised and dangerous ; but it is only one among the innumerable 
 instances of the like usurpation which history furnishes. 
 
 It ought also to be remembered that the royalists, instigated and 
 paid by the British ministry, as is abundantly proved by the annals of 
 that period, had set on foot secret plots to murder the First Consul, or 
 to seize him at his capital and transport him to England — a mode of re- 
 storing the monarchy as unauthorised as it was detestable. The security 
 of the French Government required that these plotters and their British 
 accessories should be terrified by an eminent example, one that should 
 show to the world that the republic had confidence in itself, and was not
 
 282 SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 it. Indeed, all parties united to tear away the mask with 
 which the First Consul still sought to conceal himself. But 
 the ambitious men who were attached to his fortunes stifled 
 the generous sentiments of those who expressed themselves 
 in a manner contrary to their views. After having inspired 
 a sort of terror in the minds of others, they no longer met 
 with any obstacle in crowning their work. They now 
 seemed to busy themselves with the idea of raising from 
 the dust the ruins of the monarchy, without deigning 
 to reflect that the throne of France for ever belonged to 
 the family of the Bourbons. 
 
 afraid to treat a Bourbon as it would the " commonest clay." On the 
 ground of abstract justice, untrammelled by forms, and considering the 
 circumstances of the times, the propriety of the punishment of the 
 Duke d'Enghien can hardly be questioned. The account ascribed to 
 Josephine in a preceding note, of the First Consul being present in the 
 chamber occupied by the court-martial, at Vincennes, while the Duke 
 was on trial, needs corroboration. It is said that, when brought to 
 Paris, the duke was taken directly to the gate of the minister of foreign 
 affairs ; it is not unlikely the First Consul may have there seen him, 
 incog., and that this circumstance gave rise to the story of his being at 
 Vincennes. Still, such a visit would have been entirely characteristic. 
 — Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 283 
 
 NOTES TO VOL. I 
 
 (i) Page 5. 
 
 Examine the philanthropic opinions of Bernardin St. Pierre. He 
 was not a man to calumniate a whole race from among whom he chose 
 the hero of his romance. Listen to what he says — he who, at his 
 leisure, studied the character of that race in the Isle of France. "The 
 negroes," says he, "owing to their heedlessness and unstable imagina- 
 tions, escape from almost all the ills of life. They dance in the 
 midst of famine, and in the midst of plenty — when at liberty, and 
 when in chains.' A chicken's claw will frighten them, and a piece of 
 white paper restore their coui^age. I have observed them, not in 
 stupid Africa, but in the West Indies. In the qualities of the mind, 
 the negroes are in general much inferior to other races ; they have 
 brought no kind of husbandry to perfection ; the}' know nothing of 
 the liberal arts, which had nevertheless made some progress among 
 the inhabitants of the New World, much more modern than they. 
 Utterly ignorant of ship-building, they have permitted other nations 
 to get possession of the coasts." — And j-et the moment they made 
 common cause with the other friends of independence in our American 
 colonies, those indigenous people seized the island of St. Domingo, and 
 the good Bernardin St. Pierre would be astonished, should he now 
 return, to find among men of colour, experienced navigators, well 
 instructed husbandmen and profound politicians — so much has the 
 French Revolution done towards renovating the globe, and en- 
 lightening the minds of those who dwell upon it. 
 
 I On the anniversary of Josephine's birth, her father was accustomed to allow 
 his negroes a day of rest, and to give them an entertainment. He would make them 
 dance, and his daughter distributed money among the poor and the sick, telling 
 them, "It is the good Creole (alluding to her mother, who was remarkable for her 
 charity) who gives you this." Those unhappy beings would clasp their hands, and 
 raise them towards heaven, while tears streamed down their cheeks, furrowed by 
 toil and sorrow. But they would soon relapse into their apathetic heedlessness, and 
 the only sentiment with which such an act of kindness inspired them they expressed 
 by saying, " Good mistress, when you get a husband, negroes will get more of these 
 good things."
 
 284 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (2) Page 18. 
 
 " In the midst of my studies, and a life as innocent as one can lead, 
 and in spite of all that could be said to me, the fear of hell often made 
 me tremble. I asked myself. What is my condition ? If I should die 
 this moment, should I be damned ? According to the Jansenists, the 
 thing is indubitable ; but, according to my notions, it was impossible. 
 Ever apprehensive, floating on in the midst of uncertainty, I resorted, 
 in order to escape from it, to the most laughable expedients ; for which 
 I myself would certainly have a man shut up in a mad -house, should I 
 see him do the like. 
 
 "While dreaming one day upon this subject, I amused myself by 
 throwing stones at the trunk of a tree, with my usual dexterity, that is 
 to say, without ever hitting it. While engaged in this agreeable 
 exercise, the thought struck me to make of it a sort of prognostic, 
 in order to settle the question ; and I said to myself, ' I will throw this 
 stone at this tree ; if I miss it, it is a sign of damnation ; ' and then 
 hurled the stone with a trembling hand and a horrible throbbing at 
 the heart. Luckily it struck plump against the tree, which certainly 
 was not very difficult, as I had taken good care to choose one of 
 enormous size, and well armed with snags. After that I entertained 
 no doubt about my own salvation. You," adds the philosopher of 
 Geneva, " you, also, ye great men, who certainly will laugh at my folly, 
 congratulate yourselves on your exemption from it ; but don't insult 
 my misery, for I swear to you I feel it full keenly." — Confessions, 
 Book VI., p. 241. 
 
 (3) Page ig, Amaryllis gigantea. 
 
 The Empress Josephine was fond of cultivating a beautiful bulb of 
 this kind, which for a long time was the only one in France. Its 
 flower appears in the month of August, and its leaves afterwards ; 
 they grow six inches in width, very long, of an oval shape, and white 
 towards the extremity of the stem. Malmaison was thronged with 
 amateurs who came to admire this rare plant, which grew out of a 
 carefully levelled bed. It measured two feet and a half round the top, 
 and its flowers, combining various colours, multiplied themselves with- 
 out end. 
 
 The gardens of Malmaison, during the lifetime of Josephine, re- 
 sembled an Eden. Nothing could be more magnificent than their 
 appearance ; the green -houses united the masterpieces of nature. 
 She was fond of the study of botany, and in the daily habit of visiting 
 the exotic plants, which she pleasantly termed her "great family." 
 She received, as presents from her friends, the most beautiful and 
 choice plants, and the most precious shrubs. Flora and Pomona 
 contended with each other in enriching and embellishing this wild
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 285 
 
 retreat. For her the Goddess of Flowers emptied her basket, while her 
 sister, the Goddess of Fruits, robbed for her the richest orchards. 
 Etruscan vases and statues wrought by the greatest masters, adorned 
 this new elysium, which, thanks to the divine taste of the lovely fairy 
 whose abode it was, seemed to rival the museum of Italy. Here, the 
 chisels of Phidias and Praxiteles competed for the palm with those of 
 the Lesueurs and Pajous. There, the light and delicate sculpture of 
 Lorrain and Pigalle was seen harmonising with that of Canova and 
 Houdont. Josephine made it a duty to encourage the arts and to 
 patronise artists, and took pleasure in conversing with the most 
 enlightened agriculturists in Europe. Of this number was the Sieur 
 Tamponet,' who often had the honour of conversing with her. " I have 
 been conversing with one of the most enlightened agriculturists ; that 
 man really knows not his own worth ; he is appreciated by me, and will 
 be, hereafter, by the most illustrious personages." 
 
 (4) Page 22. 
 
 William de K — — established himself in his West-Indian possessions, 
 and did not return to Europe till 1802. He had lost his father in the 
 French Revolution. His mother returned to Dublin, where she occu- 
 pied herself exclusively in the education of young Elinora. William's 
 wife joined him at Batavia, where she became the mother of a son ; but 
 her health becoming enfeebled by the warmth of the climate, a 
 lingering fever, at the end of a few years, conducted her to her tomb. 
 The husband was inconsolable. If he thought of Josephine it was only 
 to recall the scenes of their youth. He had yielded to necessity in 
 marrying the niece of Lord Lovell ; but had just begun to find happi- 
 ness in the bosom of his family. His fortune had been considerably 
 augmented ; and this happy Nabal was about to enjoy in Europe the 
 fruits of his labours, when he was suddenly and for ever separated from 
 her who was his all. Returned to England, William de K en- 
 trusted his son to his mother's care. He came to Paris, where he was 
 at Napoleon's coronation. He was not presented to Josephine, who, on 
 her part, was ignorant of his living so near her. But at the time the 
 unfortunate General Buck was arrested by the Emperor's orders, 
 
 William de K was imprisoned in the Temple for having had some 
 
 intrigues with him. While in prison he managed to send to his ancient 
 friend, through the medium of Madame the Marchioness of Montesson, 
 
 I A rose of a very beautiful kind (unknown in France, a specimen of which had, 
 by the order of Josephine, been given to the Sieur Tainponet at Mahnaison) was 
 presented by him to her royal highness the Duchess of Berri. That august 
 princess deigned to accept the present, and to permit her name to be given to the 
 species— (iJosc Caroline). Sec the Moniicur, and other papers of the i8th, 19th, and 
 20th of July.
 
 286 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a letter, in which he only asks for a souvenir and a passport, Josephine 
 understood him, and obtained from Fouche what he desired. Returned 
 to Scotland, he resided with his family for six months ; but his stay in 
 Edinburgh becoming more and more irksome and insipid, he travelled 
 to Italy, and stopped for a short time at a hospice on Mont Cenis. He 
 cultivated the acquaintance of the respectable abbe who governed those 
 hermits. Their respective conditions were, in some sort, the same ; one 
 had become a recluse in consequence of an affair of honour, in which 
 he had killed his antagonist ; and the other was forced to flee from a 
 country where a woman whom he had, and whom he still loved, could 
 never be his. They had fled from a world which was regretted by 
 neither. Napoleon then, in July, 1805, was crossing the Alps. He 
 stopped a short time with the monks. They said something to him 
 about an Englishman who had been stopping several days on Mont 
 Cenis, and who seemed to have renounced the world for ever. Jose- 
 phine manifested a desire to see him. " You will have to climb up that 
 hill," said one of the monks, pointing with his finger to a very high and 
 steep summit. "It is not practicable for carriages. You will find a 
 plain, bordered all round with mountains, and you will have to climb up 
 to the height." Four porters raised Josephine on their shoulders, and 
 Napoleon laughed heartily at the symptoms of fear she exhibited at the 
 sight of the steep and dangerous paths up the mountain's side. Arrived 
 at the centre of the plateau she admired the beautiful lake, in which are 
 taken the deHcious trout which are the admiration of all French and 
 foreign gastronomes. Having satisfied her love of natural curiosities, 
 she perceived the Englishman, who immediately concealed himself from 
 her eager gaze. Some papers, scattered here and there, showed, how- 
 ever, that he had once been in the Temple prison. This piqued the 
 Emperor a httle. He enquired and found his name, and thereupon cast 
 a sly glance at Josephine, who had, long before, related to him the 
 minutest particulars of their childish attachment. He joked her much 
 about this writing. " Dear William," said he, " is quite ungallant— he 
 ought, at least, to have come and saluted the Empress." She blushed, 
 but could not succeed in getting another ghmpse of the friend of her 
 childhood, whom she had so deeply loved. 
 
 She thought no more about William de K until 1814, when he 
 
 presented himself at Malmaison. He had been wounded at the siege of 
 Paris, and carried his arm in a sling. Josephine was extremely sur- 
 prised to see him, but dissembled her feelings from the by-standers. At 
 that time the foreign sovereigns paid frequent visits to Josephine, and 
 everybody kept watch of her. William took for coldness and contempt 
 that which only resulted from her extreme caution. Such was his mor- 
 tification at this supposed slight that he fell dangerously ill. Josephine 
 sent to him one of her confidential friends, and assured him that she 
 was doing all in her power to save his life. But all was useless— the
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 287 
 
 blow was struck. His wound made it necessary to amputate his arm, 
 
 and the unhappy William de K survived the wife of Napoleon only 
 
 three days. 
 
 (5) Page 23. 
 
 Josephine always recalled this prediction with a feeling of fear. She 
 had little faith in the stability of fortune, and, even when she was most 
 elated, would utter reflections which showed, too plainly, the misgivings 
 of her heart. 
 
 In 1804, some days after her coronation, perceiving herself lying upon 
 a magnificent couch, enriched with splendid embroidery and glittering 
 
 with bees wrought in gold, she said to Madame Mac de St. H : 
 
 "You see, all things seem to smile around me. I have arrived at the 
 summit of greatness — my husband is all-powerful. Alas ! all this must 
 vanish like a dream." — "I endeavoured to reassure her," said Madame de 
 
 Mac , "and tried to make her perceive the immense distance between 
 
 her present position and that into which she seemed afraid of falling." 
 " It is," she replied, " for the very reason that I am elevated so high 
 that my fall will be so terrible. Look at Maria Antoinette. Did that 
 Queen deserve her fate ? I cannot think of it without shuddering. The 
 palace of the Tuileries almost fatigues and frightens me. I am all the 
 time afraid of being compelled to leave it by force." Here the conver- 
 sation ended. 
 
 During the course of her reign Josephine consulted her natural in- 
 clination, which was to make people happy. " I don't know," she said 
 to those who attended her, " that I have any enemies ; if I have they 
 conceal themselves in the shade ; and it is for that reason that they are 
 to be feared. I am afraid of flatterers and perfidious counsellors. I 
 know that Napoleon is attached to my person — that he loves me sin- 
 cerely, and that never, of his own accord, will he think of such a thing 
 as resorting to any rigorous act for separating himself from me." But 
 she was afraid of the faithless ones who surrounded her ; and, during 
 
 nearly seven years, one of her women. Mademoiselle A , carried 
 
 about her person a counter-poison, to be given her in case of need. But she 
 never used it. She was much subject to bilious attacks, which caused 
 her a great deal of suffering. At every change of the seasons it gave 
 her complexion a sallow hue, and affected her general health. 
 
 Having retired to Malmaison, Josephine's mode of life was entirely 
 changed. Her little Court was the rendezvous of the men of intelli- 
 gence, and was adorned by ladies of wit and beauty. The Empress 
 was allowed a considerable salary-, but it was not faithfully paid 
 towards the last. She often found herself in want of means, and could 
 not think of diminishing the number of beneficiaries who looked to her 
 for assistance. I have already remarked that she could fix no limits 
 to her munificence. At the time of Mallet's conspiracy, Josephine
 
 288 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 believed, momentarily, that the Emperor was dead. She mourned for 
 him sincerely, without taking any thought of what would become of 
 her. But, in 1814, she became fully convinced that the gloomy pre- 
 diction of the old negress of Martinique would be, in the end, 
 accomplished. " I shall not survive your misfortunes," said she to 
 Napoleon, on a certain occasion when she was returning to Malmaison 
 from Navarre, whither she had been on a visit. When she saw- 
 foreigners surrounding her chateau, to act as her safeguard, her heart 
 seemed to sink within her. Numerous reports were put in circulation 
 respecting the mode of her death. {See Note 94, Vol. II.) At this 
 gloomy epoch, she was the more unhappy because her salary was 
 greatly in arrears. How much must that sensitive heart have suffered 
 on learning what was to be the doom of her husband. She wished to 
 share his exile, to alleviate the pressure of his afflictions ; and it was 
 to indulge this noble feeling that she sent him an express to Fontaine- 
 bleau. But, not receiving any news from him, she became so 
 overwhelmed with grief that her health rapidly declined. Josephine 
 died unhappy, and no one, at this day, doubts that the primary cause 
 of her death was to be attributed to the ills which befell Napoleon — 
 she could not support such terrible reverses. 
 
 (6) Page 25. 
 
 This aunt of Josephine had lived for a long time in Martinique, 
 where her husband, as a friend of the Marquis de Beauharnais, had had 
 the management of his estate. The two families were perfectly united, 
 though that was not the case with their two heads. Madame Renaudin 
 was a very handsome woman, and knew it well. She had a taste for 
 domination and was unable to bear, with patience, the yoke which 
 marriage imposed upon her. She promised herself that when he should 
 go to Paris, she would accompanj- him, which she did. She wanted, 
 also, to take with her her brother's eldest daughter ; but Manette's 
 health would not permit her to reside in France, where Madame 
 Renaudin now took up her residence. She foresaw that the bonds of 
 matrimony would, one day, unite her second niece to the son of the 
 marquis, and used all her efforts to effect the union. Meanwhile 
 she tried to avoid the old marquis, whom she was in the habit of 
 meeting almost every day. He, on one occasion, surprised her whilst 
 writing a letter to her brother, M. de la Pagerie, on the subject of this 
 marriage which she deemed certain. He betrayed great dissatisfaction 
 with the scheme. But she found means to appease him and continued 
 to urge forward her project. The husband remained in Martinique 
 while his wife was thus living at Fontainebleau, where she spent her 
 happiest days, waiting for fortune to furnish her some new part to act. 
 She was married several times, and espoused, for her third husband,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 289 
 
 a man of rare but modest merit, whom Josephine highly esteemed,' but 
 whom Napoleon never liked. Madame Renaudin died at an advanced 
 age, regretted by many. With some slight faults of character, she was 
 one of the best of women. She was really benevolent, but by no means 
 so much so as her niece. She was fond of hoarding. 
 
 (7) -^'''ft^ 2G. 
 
 Madame de la Pagerie was very fond of her eldest daughter, and 
 Josephine occupied the second place in her affections. On the death of 
 Manette, she seemed to sink under her griefs, and entertained fears for 
 her own life. But by degrees she regained her spirits, and all her 
 affections were now, of course, centred upon her younger daughter. 
 She deserved them ; and never, perhaps, did daughter love a mother 
 more tenderly. In order to please her mother, who was naturally of 
 a serious turn, but kind-hearted, the pretty Creole girl, no longer 
 engrossed by her sports, became calm and reserved. She contracted 
 the habits of her deceased sister to such a degree that she was almost 
 mistaken for her, which endeared her more to her mother. It was 
 with extreme repugnance that the latter consented to be separated from 
 her. She long wept for her. At the time of the famous divorce suit 
 betwixt Beauharnais and herself, her mother used every means to 
 retain her in Martinique ; but Josephine's star called her to shine upon 
 a vast and brilliant theatre. 
 
 (8) Page 39. 
 
 The Marquis de Beauharnais found a valuable friend in this lady. 
 His domestic troubles had, in a manner, isolated him from his friends. 
 After his return to France he saw little society, and kept himself shut 
 up chiefly at Fontainebleau. He had two sons ; one emigrated during 
 the Revolution (Senator Beauharnais), the other met his fate on the 
 scaffold. Henceforth the unhapp)- father was wholly given up to 
 himself. Madame Renaudin, however, never abandoned him, and after 
 a mutual viduity had made them free to unite with each other, the 
 marquis gave her his name. This alliance took place at a time when 
 Bonaparte had begun to astonish everybody. = Josephine loved her 
 aunt, and regarded her as the primary cause of her good fortune ; her 
 company always afforded the Empress unbounded delight, although, 
 (hiring the last years of her grandeur, she saw her but seldom. 
 
 (9) ^V' 45- 
 
 Madame de V , whose maiden name was de J , had a 
 
 powerful influence over the Viscount Beauharnais. The latter loved 
 
 1 M. Danese, mayor of the city of St. Germain-en-Laye. 
 
 2 The Marquis de Beauharnais married Madame Renaudin, Josephine's aunt, the 
 same year that Josepliine married Bonaparte, and while the latter was in Italy. 
 
 VOL. I 19
 
 2gO NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 her, a fact which presented a great obstacle to his choosing a wife. 
 He told her of the projects which Madame Rendudin had formed re- 
 specting him. She dissuaded him, and under her influence he came 
 to the determination to refuse his hand to Mademoiselle de la Pagerie. 
 
 Madame de V was anxious to assure herself, personally, how much 
 
 she had to hope or fear from the contemplated union. For this purpose 
 she visited a female friend of hers at Panthemont, and asked, as a 
 special favour, to be presented to the young American girl. On 
 becoming acquainted with Josephine, that artful woman perceived, at 
 once and clearly, that the little Creole (she designated her by that 
 epithet) could never be a very dangerous rival to her. She did not 
 pretend to dissemble ; the smile of irony played upon her lips ; 
 Josephine saw it, and from that moment became convinced that 
 Madame de V would not (as she said to her friends) leave her tin- 
 shadow of hope. And, indeed, she was not slow in arriving at the proof 
 that the bonds of her unhappy marriage would be woven by the hand 
 of Misfortune. 
 
 (10) Page 47. 
 
 The Viscount de Beauharnais loved and cultivated the arts, but 
 without neglecting the care of his estate. His judgment was sound, 
 his conversation neat and witty. On subjects calculated to excite 
 feeling, his voice was slow and solemn, and contrasted admirably with 
 the usual vivacity of his manner. No person was less tenacious of his 
 opinions; he would, indeed, defend them, but if the opponent persisted 
 in combating them, even though in the wrong, he would smile, and 
 adroitly change the conversation. He was feeUng and frank, active 
 and constant in his friendships. Eulogiums, unless tempered with 
 delicacy, were to him insipid and disgusting. His silent manner of 
 approving merit and acknowledging a favour was above that vulgar 
 prodigality of officious and sterile words with which it is so common 
 to salute great men, and even little men when in power. — Note by 
 Josephine. 
 
 (11) Page 51. 
 
 M. de Beauharnais (Alexander Viscount de), born in 1760. At the 
 epoch of the Revolution, he was second major of a regiment of infantry. 
 He had several years before married Mademoiselle de Tascher de la 
 Pagerie, and at that time was in the enjoyment of a considerable fortune 
 in Martinique. His agreeable talents, and his habit of mixing in the 
 best company, had placed him among the most favourite courtiers, long 
 before circumstances gave him another kind of celebrity. Appointed, 
 in 1789. a deputy of the nobility from the baiUwick of Blois to the 
 States General, he was soon ranked among those who exclaimed most 
 ardently against the Government. The ideas of philosophy and liberty 
 replaced in him the frivolity of the courtier. He was one of the first
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 29I 
 
 of his order to transfer himself to the chamber of the commons {tieys 
 Hat), and on the 4th of August, 1789, he introduced a proposition to 
 equahse penaUies, and make any citizen ehgible to office. Elected a 
 member of the military committee, he presented several reports in its 
 name, and demanded of the Assembly the approbation of the conduct 
 of Bouille at Nancy, by which he incurred the hatred of the Jacobins, 
 who henceforth swore vengeance against him. In 1790, he strenuously 
 opposed the proposition to apply the laws of peace and war to the case 
 of the King; in 1791 he procured a decree allowing the soldiers, when 
 not on service, to frequent the clubs. At the time of the King's flight 
 to Varennes, he was president of the Assembly (20th June, 1791), and 
 on that occasion displayed a firmness and a calmness which challenged 
 the admiration even of his enemies. On the 31st of July he again 
 occupied the chair, and after the session left Paris for the army of the 
 North, with the rank of Adjutant-general. A few days after the loth of 
 August, 1792, he was chosen with Custine to command the camp at 
 Soissons ; and after that fatal day, the commissioners of the Legislative 
 Assembly having announced that Beauharnais was of the number of 
 generals who were true to their country, he was mentioned in an 
 honourable manner by the Convention. At the time Frankfort was 
 retaken bv the Prussians, his military conduct was praised by Pache, 
 the minister, and by General Custine. These distinguished marks of 
 attention contributed to elevate him, in 1793, to the grade of General- 
 in-chief of the army of the Rhine, and shortly afterwards to the post 
 of minister of war, which he declined. 'Twas at this time that all 
 our best men were driven from the army. Alexander Beauharnais, in 
 consetjuence, sent in his resignation, which was at first refused, but after- 
 wards accepted, by the representatives on mission from the Assembly, 
 who ordered him to retire twenty leagues from the frontiers. He now 
 fixed his residence at Ferte Imbault, a department of Loire-et-Cher, and 
 published some observations against the proscription of nobles, in 
 answer to a denunciation of Varlet directed against himself. He was 
 finally arrested as a suspected person, conducted to Paris, thrown into 
 the Carmelite prison, and taken thence before the Revolutionary 
 tribunal. For want of a criminal charge, he was accused of fifteen 
 days' inaction at the head of the army, which, it was alleged, had con- 
 tributed to the loss of Mayence, though everything demonstrated the 
 contrary. He was, however, condemned to death, 23rd July, 1794. 
 On the evening before his condemnation he wrote a letter to his wife, 
 who afterwards gave her hand to Bonaparte, commending to her care 
 his children, and enjoining it upon her to vindicate his memory. 
 
 Mercier, in his "Nouveau Paris" (Biography), tells us, in his peculiar, 
 enthusiastic style, that at the time of the federation, 14th July, 1790, 
 M. de Beauharnais worked in the champ de mai, harnessed to the same 
 cart with the Abbe Sieyes. 
 
 19 — 2
 
 292 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (12) Page 54. 
 
 The Marchioness' de Montesson always showed a marked liking for 
 Josephine. At the time of the famous suit with Beauharnais, she openly 
 took up her defence. She recommended her most warmly to Madame 
 de Virieux, the abbess of Panthemont, where Josephine was shut up 
 during the pendency of the suit. After she had left the convent, the 
 marchioness did not cease to visit her, and the two friends never for a 
 moment forgot each other, either during the season of adversity of the 
 one or the astonishing prosperity of the other. A simple wish on the 
 part of Madame Montesson became an order with Josephine, though 
 the latter would sometimes promise what it did not depend on her to 
 fulfil; and it was a double affliction to her to be obliged to say that 
 what was desired was not in her power to bestow. The Emperor 
 sometimes found it difficult to grant what his wife thought might be 
 
 easily granted. 
 
 (13) Page 55. 
 
 Scarcely had Mademoiselle de Tascher changed her name to that 
 of the Viscountess of Beauharnais, when she saw that her destinies 
 were no longer the same. She was sincerely attached to the viscount. 
 Her heart felt the need of loving, and all her thoughts were centred 
 upon her husband ; he was all for her. It was natural that, in moments 
 of ill-humour, she should address to him some indiscreet reproaches. 
 She was young, and without experience. Beauharnais was, indeed, 
 an amiable man, and attached to her by a real friendship ; but he could 
 not bear her petty jealousies. "You act like a child," said he; "look 
 around you, and see whether you have a right to complain." His 
 home, however, as to all external appearances, seemed happy. A 
 coloured man, who was a body servant of the viscount, was in the 
 habit of bringing him reports, which were so utterly false and faith- 
 less that her husband was led incessantly to put a bad construction 
 
 upon her smallest actions. A secret spy of Madame de V was 
 
 in reality the primary cause of Josephine's griefs ; the latter was 
 so kind and confiding that she was ever unwilling to believe in the 
 reality of such an act of treason. She was blamed by many of 
 her friends for taking back into her service that same mulatto man 
 when she returned the second time from Martinique. " You will," 
 she was told, "always be the dupe of your own too confiding heart — 
 you will be again deceived." — "What would you have me do? " said 
 she, with good-humour; " I would rather be a victim than suspect 
 an innocent man. To me he denies everything, and that is enough; 
 
 I She had secretly married the Duke of Orleans, son of the regent. On the death 
 of the prince, she received an order to retire into a convent. The reason of this was 
 that, as she could not appear publicly in mourning, she might, at least, adopt the petit 
 gris, which she continued for a year.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 293 
 
 if I am wrong in believing in his fidelity, I do not want to fathom 
 the secrets of his conduct." Such was Josephine in all the cir- 
 cumstances of her life. She did not like gossip, though at times she 
 listened to it. Her uniform response was, " Certainly you are 
 deceived ; you ought to be sure before you condemn anyone." 
 
 (14) Page 56. 
 
 Madame de V had a misunderstanding with Beauharnais, and 
 
 almost ceased to speak to him. She then employed all her arts 
 to acquire the confidence of his wife. She taught the too credulous 
 Josephine to believe that she did this to please her, and in order 
 to strengthen the fears which she entertained respecting his as- 
 siduities. "But," she would say after a moment of hesitation, " the 
 perfidious wretch, though he feigns to be faithful to you, he does 
 not the less throw himself every day at the feet of Madame de 
 
 B , that coquettish woman, who aims to seduce by her charms 
 
 all the gentlemen of the Court." This dart, shot by the blackest 
 perfidy, greatly affected the spirits of its victim. But as often as 
 she commenced to review his conduct, her husband would, by his 
 skilful manner and kind looks, scatter her fears. Eugene was 
 the pride of his father ; that lovely infant was an angel of peace 
 to his parents. Josephine believed, gave credence to, what was told 
 
 her by Madame de V , and no longer dissembled her jealousy ; 
 
 she uttered her complaints to a man who merited nothing but her 
 praises. Ill-feeling sprang up between them, and bitter reproaches 
 were uttered on both sides. The cruel word "separation" was pro- 
 nounced, and from this time forth a vague inquietude reigned 
 between them. The more sympathy is felt, the more confidence 
 have we in those who manifest it. At length they ceased entirely 
 to see each other. Such was the fruit which Madame de Beau- 
 harnais reaped from lending a too willing ear to the insidious and 
 false suggestions of a woman who, unable to pardon her for having 
 married the viscount, with whom she wished to carry on her lo\e 
 intrigues, had sworn to destroy her. 
 
 (15) Page 66. 
 
 There was a particular observance when a priest died. He was 
 interred with his face unco\'ered ; the people supposed they could 
 read in the lineaments of his pallid countenance after death the 
 pleasure of the Sovereign Judge, and discover, through the dim 
 shadow of death, the joy which awaited him, as we behold through 
 the veil of a clear night the magnificence of the firmament. The 
 same custom prevails in the convents. I have seen a young nun 
 thus lying upon her bier ; the whiteness of her brow scarcely dis-
 
 294 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tinguishable from that of the hnen band with which it was half 
 covered ; a crown of white roses on her head, and a mysterious torch 
 burning in her hand. After being exposed to view for several hours, 
 the coffin was closed upon her and deposited in the funeral vault. 
 Thus it is that grace and peace of mind seem not to know death, 
 and that the lily withers away notwithstanding its snowy whiteness 
 and the tranquillity of its native valley. 
 
 (i6) Page 69. 
 
 Mademoiselle de St. C was brought up with the son of her 
 
 mother's best friend. The two mothers had been at the convent 
 of St. Cyr, and had received only 3,000 francs by way of dowry and 
 wedding jewels. But adorned with natural graces and an excellent 
 education, they both contracted advantageous marriages. They pro- 
 mised each other that in case they should become mothers, and 
 their children should be of opposite sexes, their early friendship 
 should be cemented by the marriage of their offspring. They were 
 true to that promise ; Irene was constantly with Charles. But the 
 
 Countess of St. C having fallen a victim to a pulmonary disease, 
 
 her husband soon after contracted a new marriage. This worked 
 an entire change in the fortunes of her daughter. She was des- 
 tined to the cloister, and the young Count de felt the shock 
 
 so severely that he went to Africa and engaged in commercial enter- 
 prises among the Algerines. His father never loved him, but placed 
 all his affections on the son he had by a former wife. He was an 
 austere man, and strenuously opposed his son's marriage with Irene ; 
 and the Order of Malta, into which his father caused him to be 
 received at his majority, put an end to all his claims to her hand, 
 and doomed him to perpetual celibacy. 
 
 (17) Page 74. 
 
 At the instigation of Madame de V , Beauharnais made a 
 
 voyage to Martinique in order to make enquiry into his wife's con- 
 duct. He questioned the negroes and mulattoes, expecting to draw 
 from them something tending to implicate the irreproachable conduct 
 of his wife before she came to France. All his discoveries tended in 
 favour of the interesting Creole. On his return to France, he in- 
 stituted a suit against her. Madame de L , the daughter-in-law 
 
 of the Marechal de N , and a relative of several of the magis- 
 trates, ever friendly to Josephine, managed to have the case removed 
 before the Parliament of Paris, and placed in a light so favourable 
 to her that Beauharnais lost it. It was decreed that he should 
 take back his wife, provided she should consent to live with him 
 again, or to pay her an annual support of 10,000 francs. The ground
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 295 
 
 of this just and equitable decision was that it appeared from the evi- 
 dence that the accusation brought against her was purely calumnious; 
 the Parliament of Paris so declared it, and permitted her to live 
 away from her husband. 
 
 (18) Page 78. 
 
 A wise and just liberty is indispensable to an enlightened and 
 warlike nation. Despotism is utterly uncongenial to the manners 
 and the character of the French. A Government, to be obeyed, must 
 possess nerve and vigour ; the first germs of rebellion should be ex- 
 tirpated. Had the unfortunate Louis XVI. been persuaded of the 
 truth that, in politics, it is seldom safe to take a retrograde step, 
 he would have been scrupulously careful not to make the least con- 
 cession to that crazy multitude who, with arms in their hands, came 
 and desecrated his palace, and offered to cover his august brows 
 with the infamous cap which was but the emblem of licence. After 
 the affair of the 5th and 6th of October, the king exhibited but a 
 coiiyse of practical patience. The mischief was commenced on the 
 2oth of June, when the monarch saw himself compelled to take the 
 oath of the sans-culottcs. The king should, for the honour of his 
 crown, for the safety of his people, have surrounded himself with 
 a superior force. This would have struck awe into the factionists 
 who first presumed to pass the threshold of his palace. Such an 
 exertion of positive power would have kept them at bay and disabled 
 them from renewing their sacrilegious horrors. But, unhappily, this 
 dreadful epoch only exhibited, on the part of the king, a hesitation 
 that degenerated into actual weakness, and, on the part of the rebels, 
 audacious crime raising its fiery crest and preaching open revolt. 
 From the very dawn of that liberty which, for a moment, shone 
 with so pure a light, certain vile and obscure demagogues conceived 
 the plan of the too famous loth of August. That plan they executed 
 bv hurling their lawful sovereign from his throne ; and showed to 
 astonished Europe that the ancient monarchies could henceforth sub- 
 sist only by their permission. 
 
 The French nation was doomed to pass as swiftly as the arrow 
 of William Tell through all the horrors of the Decemvirs, Cinna, 
 Marius, Sylla, Rufus, Catiline, and the Triumvirs. It saw itself the 
 sport of the passions, and in the end became the prey of him who 
 was the most skilful in seizing her power, and prescribing to her the 
 law of circumstances And yet we cannot but approve the consulate 
 as a necessary measure to guard against the return to power of those 
 infernal spirits who had preceded it, and to revive the arts and 
 sciences in the bosom of France. 
 
 (19) Page 79. 
 
 The Petit Trianon is the chef-d'ceiivre of the lighter style of archi-
 
 296 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 lecture. The unhappy Maria Antoinette was extremely pleased with 
 it ; she took great pains to embellish it, and laid out large sums in 
 so doing. Nothing could be more pleasant or picturesque than those 
 gardens planned by the hand of the celebrated Lenotre. 
 
 The Queen often resorted to this retreat to withdraw herself, as 
 she good-humouredly said, from the inseparable enemies of greatness. 
 A kind of easy freedom, a simplicity of manners, reigned in this 
 delicious retreat, which contrasted strikingly with the luxury and the 
 stiff airs of the Court. The Queen of France was no longer the 
 Queen of France at Trianon. The costumes of the country befitted 
 her wondrously ; she would traverse her domains habited like a 
 shepherdess ; her sceptre remained in her apartments at Versailles, 
 and the shepherd's crook replaced it in her august hand. Here she 
 received, with perfect courtesy and without distinction, the homage 
 of nobles and plebeians, drawn thither by curiosity to see and admire 
 the daughter of the Caesars. Without in any degree losing her 
 dignity, she received visits from all classes of society, and never, 
 perhaps, did woman possess in a more eminent degree all those 
 lovely characteristics which distinguish greatness and goodness, or 
 better understand how to bestow her acts of kindness. She under- 
 stood most perfectly that marvellous secret, so rare amongst the 
 great — the skill to give, without, at the same time, wounding the 
 delicacy of the persons obliged. The whole Court would manifest 
 a wish to accompany her whenever, with her peculiar smile, she 
 said, "To-morrow I shall go to my farm." The courtiers who were 
 designated to enjoy the favour of accompanying her, acted more like 
 villagers about to enjoy some rustic sport, than like the attendants 
 upon royalty. Each had his little house at the charming retreat. 
 Such a member of the x-oyal family was the owner of a mill ; another had 
 the parsonage house ; such a duke was happy to exchange his cordons 
 for a labourer's dress ; such a gratide dame, with her eighteen qiiartievs, 
 became at once a farmer's ivife and busied herself with the household 
 affairs. The belle fermiere (as the Queen was called) did the honours 
 of the table admirably ; all etiquette disappeared and was replaced by 
 an agreeable liberty and perfect freedom. Trianon was in a manner 
 the birth-place of that goddess who, since 1789, had turned so many 
 heads and occasioned so many evils. The Queen there showed herself 
 an example of simplicity to all. The miller's wife sent her cakes, 
 and the farmer's wife sent her fresh eggs, butter and cheese ; and 
 even the village curate was not forgotten in the distribution of 
 favours. Everybody around received her invitations and visited her 
 in their turn. One pleasure after another sported around the guests 
 of this happy place at all hours of the day ; like the walls of Thebes, 
 it seemed built by some magic hand. In the evening the company 
 amused themselves with acting comedies. The Queen assigned to
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 297 
 
 each his part, and often acted one herself ; everyone exerted his 
 skill and memory to surpass the rest in endeavouring to catch a look 
 from the new Arminda, the enchantress of the gardens. Concerts 
 were given in which the Queen also joined. Louis XVI. was not 
 very fond of Trianon. " 'Tis," said the good King, " a whirlpool of 
 expense, without any certain revenue " — a neat and adroit allusion 
 to the costly entertainments given at that place. 
 
 Since the Revolution this place has been much neglected. The 
 Frenchman contemplates in silence that spot which was once the 
 admiration of the stranger and the charm of a Court in whose bosom 
 luxury and magnificence have been hereditary since the pompous age 
 of Louis XIV. What should be our reflections when we recall the 
 memory of a past period so rich in historic recollections, and com- 
 pare it with the miseries of the present times ! 
 
 Bonaparte undertook to repair the two Trianons. The Petit 
 Trianon received some very tasteful improvements, and was entirely 
 re-furnished. But the Empress Josephine frequented it but little, 
 and always returned from it with visible sadness. 
 
 (20) Page 80. 
 
 The disputes between Beauharnais and his wife having made some 
 noise in the community, it is not surprising that the Queen should 
 have testified to Madame de Beauharnais such an earnest interest in 
 her case ; especially after the Parliament of Paris had been pleased 
 to award a decree in her favour as signal as it was merited. 
 
 (21) Page 89. 
 
 The inhabitants of Martinique in 1661 performed a memorable 
 act, whereof it would be difficult to find an example in the most 
 famous revolutions of the ancient republics. But however just it 
 may have been, it could not have prospered but for the absence of 
 the sovereign from among them, and the weakness of the military 
 force stationed there. Never did the proud Romans or the Greeks, 
 who were m.ore enlightened, better understand their rights or observe 
 a wiser or more rational conduct in maintaining them. 
 
 The vexatious administration of Varenne, the governor, and 
 Ricouart, the intendant, gave just cause of complaint to the colonists. 
 Those two chiefs had been invited to dinner by Lamentin. The prin- 
 cipal inhabitants of the island repaired thither, attended by the cortege 
 which was required by the august ceremony of an election, and in 
 order to protect it from violence. Varenne and Ricouart did not 
 discover the symptoms of the revolution until it was ready to break 
 out ; it was clothed with all the necessary forms, and with a solemnity 
 which gave new weight to the choice which was made. Their swords
 
 2g8 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 were taken from them and broken, while they themselves were stripped 
 of all their authority ; the conspirators constituted themselves their 
 judges ; they recalled to their minds their oppressions, and the abuse 
 of their powers ; they proved to them the justice of the motives by 
 which they were actuated in taking this step ; and, arranged in order 
 of battle, they chose as their commander, M. de Bucq, who was con- 
 firmed by acclamation of " Vive M. de Bucq! long live our general! " 
 This new intendant, clothed with the most legitimate and sacred au- 
 thority, took the reins of government, and the confederated inhabitants, 
 in regular order of march, escorted home the two deposed chiefs The 
 escort passed along under the guns of Fort Royal ; but all had been 
 provided for ; the operation was a profound mystery, and was con- 
 ducted with so much precision and secrecy that the troops in the town 
 had not the least knowledge of what was going on. Varenne and 
 Ricouart taxed all their ingenuity to find out the hidden springs of 
 this event, but in vain ; celerity alone brought it about ; the least delay 
 v/ould have been fatal to the enterprise ; and even as it was, the most 
 rigid precautions did not entirely prevent the secret from leaking out. 
 The people did not allow the offenders time even to arrange their 
 domestic concerns,' but hurried them off to an unfrequented port on 
 the island, and put them instantly on board a ship that was in waiting 
 for them with sails all set, and sent them home to France. 
 
 Meanwhile, a deputation from the colony embarked on board 
 another vessel, and repaired to the French Court ; the ministry were 
 wise and politic enough to observe moderation ; the old chiefs were 
 censured, the new ones confirmed, and the rebels pardoned. All was 
 hushed, and the inhabitants of Martinique, who only revolted against 
 an abuse of power, received with submission the new masters afterwards 
 sent them by the Court. 
 
 (22) Page 89. 
 
 Josephine was the only one who was not alarmed at the fire ; she 
 regarded the accident as a token of good luck to her. When Bona- 
 parte was travelling, if perchance a courier was too tardy, he would, 
 in order to alarm her, exclaim, " Madam, the house is on fire ! " — to 
 which she would reply, " The firemen will do their duty." Her 
 countenance would assume a cheerful and radiant expression. This 
 little weakness, if it were such, was the more pardonable in her, since 
 it often turned out that within forty-eight hours she received good news. 
 
 Madame de Maintenon came one morning in tears, and announced to 
 Madame de Montespan that, during the night, the house in which she 
 and her children lodged, took fire. " So much the better for thepi and 
 
 I But their negroes revolted, and during the several days that this effervescence 
 lasted, they burnt many houses, and cut the throats of the owners. Some of them 
 were hanged, as an example, and others sold to planters in a neighbouring colony.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 299 
 
 for you, who are their second mother," repHed the latter ; "it is a sign 
 that the King will grant them a rich endowment, and they themselves 
 arrive at a high degree of prosperity. You, madam," added she, 
 gazing at her who was one day to sway the heart of Louis XIV., " you, 
 perhaps, will yet enjoy good fortune ; the Duke of Maine will never 
 forget that he is indebted for his life to your affectionate care ; for, 
 notwithstanding the miracles of a self-styled St. Barege, he returned 
 from the holy waters more a cripple than ever ; but he knows what 
 you have done for him, and that is enough for such a feeling heart 
 as his." 
 
 (23) Page 92. 
 
 On her return from Martinique, Madame Beauharnais came again to 
 reside in Paris, and stopped at the Hotel des Asturies, Rue de Sepulcre, 
 and occupied apartments belonging to the keeper of a bathing-house. 
 Here she was visited by the best society of the capital. Madame 
 Montmorin, the lady of the governor of Fontainebleau. undertook the 
 task of bringing about a reconciliation between her husband and her, 
 in which she was powerfully aided by the old Marquis de Beauharnais, 
 the viscount's father, who loved Josephine. An animated explanation 
 took place between the parties. Eugene' and Hortense threw them- 
 selves into their father's arms ; his heart was touched ; he clasped to 
 his heart his wife and children ; tears streamed from their eyes, and a 
 treaty of oblivion to the past, and of friendship and union for the 
 future, was made and sworn to in the most formal and solemn manner. 
 
 (24) Page 93. 
 
 This excellent and intelligent lady, long the delight of the Court of 
 Versailles, was imprisoned in 1794, in the Petite Force. She occupied 
 the same room, in the third storey, in which the Princess Lamballe 
 passed the last moments of her life. One day she imagined .she saw 
 the venerable Cazotte enter her apartment in company with the woman 
 who was her jailer. "Ah!" said she, in a tone loud enough to be 
 heard, " what does that good man want ? Has he come to repeat in 
 this place his gloomy and sinister prophecy?" All the by-standers 
 were astonished, seeing that nobody but Madame Ancre was near her, 
 who by no means resembled a prophet. Immediately after, she said 
 again, " Excuse me, Cazotte; leave me in ignorance of the time of my 
 death. Alas! what boots it to me to be so well informed!" The 
 
 I Beauharnais kept his son with him during the pendency of his lawsuit with his 
 wife. He resided, at this time, at the little Hotel do la Rochefoucault, Rue des Petits- 
 Augustins; and after his mother's departure for Martinique, the young Eugene was 
 put to school at the college of Louis le Grand, where he commenced his studies. He 
 remained here until he went to join his father in the army commanded by General 
 Custine.
 
 300 
 
 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 surprise became general; they believed she had lost her reason. 
 Recovering her self-possession by degrees, she said, " How did you 
 find your way in here ? • Who directed you to come ? Was it 
 madame ? " — looking at the female jailer. All were silent, out of 
 respect to the duchess. Madame Ancre ran off as fast as her feet 
 would carry her, imagining herself pursued by the ghost of Cazotte, 
 who she knew was dead. The jailer woman was frozen with terror. 
 In the evening, the Duchess of Grammont, who did me the honour to 
 receive my visits, prayed me to inform her at what hour the act of 
 accusation {indictment) against her, which had been sent to her, had 
 reached the office of the clerk of the Court (greffe). M. Vadleu, then 
 clerk, answered me, •• At four o'clock," which was the precise time of 
 the vision. "Then," exclaimed that truly courageous and philosophic 
 lady, " then we cannot deny that Providence makes use of the most 
 secret and incredible means to prepare men for the trying hour. We 
 have no time to lose," she remarked to the Duchess of Chatelet, who 
 was in the same predicament as herself; " one kind memento, and our - 
 present sufferings may spare us eternal pains." This lady, without 
 losing anything of her accustomed gaiety, made her last will; and on 
 the morrow, April 17th, 1798, ceased to live. 
 
 (25) Page 95. 
 
 The claim of M. de K was submitted to the council of state. 
 
 The matter was communicated to the King, who recognised the debt 
 and made an order for its payment ; but the delays were such that, in 
 1790, the treasury had not paid it off. The Revolution now supervened. 
 M. Necker was strongly opposed to the reimbursement of the money, 
 under the pretence that the extravagant expenditures of Louis XIV. had 
 ruined the nation ; and such was the general cry, the order of the day. 
 M. de Beauharnais proposed, as a mode of conciliation, that the debt 
 should be entered in the great book ; but the famous Cambon refused 
 for several months to inscribe it in the Rcgistre Unlverselle. The fortune 
 
 of M. de K thus increasing in a progressive manner, he employed, 
 
 a little later, the product of this inscription in favour of certain of his 
 countrymen, to whom he gave it, and whose estates had been impaired 
 in consequence of their long imprisonment in France. 
 
 (26) Page 98. 
 
 Beauharnais was president of the National Assembly at the time of 
 the King's famous flight to Varennes. In this crisis he displayed the 
 courage and firmness necessary to preserve respect for the monarch, 
 who returned only to be put in irons in his own palace. The president, 
 without compromising the dignity of the place he filled, thought it his 
 duty to visit his unfortunate prince. He was often permitted secretly
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3OI 
 
 to go in and see the King. Louis one day said to him in bitterness, 
 "This Revolution will overturn the whole world; no government will 
 be safe from this explosion ; 'tis an /Etna whose volcanic rocks will 
 smite the hearts of sovereigns. I shall be the first amongst them to be 
 struck ; others will then feel the blow, and in less than half-a-century 
 the people of Europe will show themselves anthropophagi, and fall to 
 devouring one another ; the famous Lavater has told us so, and every- 
 thing now goes to confirm it." Beauharnais admitted to several of his 
 friends (Depremenil and Clavierre, Generals Dillon, Luckner, Biron, &c.) 
 that he was forcibly struck by these extraordinary reflections of the 
 King, and that, in his opinion, France was about to experience the most 
 terrible commotions. Henceforward he endeavoured to withdraw him- 
 self from the democratic whirlwind, though he could not openly rail at 
 the party which he appeared to serve. He, however, abjured all the 
 errors of the new school of politicians, being perfectly sensible of the 
 truth of the maxim, that the throne which begins to crumble will, in 
 the end, crush not only its most zealous sectators, but its fiercest 
 antagonists. 
 
 (27) Page 99. 
 
 The Duke of Orleans' was in every respect the least fitted to play 
 the part of William HI., and setting aside the respect which is due to 
 Louis XVL, it may be said of this prince of the blood, in the language 
 of Madame de Stael, that "he could neither sustain himself nor serve 
 as a prop to anybody else. Yet he possessed grave, noble manners, and 
 wit ; but his progress in the world developed nothing but the greatest 
 levity in the change of his principles, and when the Revolutionary 
 tempest began to blow, he found himself equally destitute of curb and 
 spur. Mirabeau, in one of his conversations with him, came to the 
 conclusion that no political enterprise whatever could be based upon 
 such a character." — " Madame de Stai'l's Considerations." 
 
 (28) Page 100. 
 
 Thus speaks Madame de Stael respecting Louis XVL, on the 
 anniversary of the 14th of July, 1792 ;—" When the Federates had 
 assembled in the Champ de Mars, they had more the air of having 
 met for an insurrection than a festival. The King needed the charac- 
 ter of a martyr to support himself in such a situation. His manner 
 of walking, his countenance, had something peculiar about them. 
 On other occasions he was wanting in personal dignity, and one could 
 have wished him to possess more of that imposing quality ; but here 
 his native humility rendered him truly sublime. 
 
 "I followed with my eyes his powdered head, moving in the midst 
 
 I The father of Louis Philippe, King of the French.— Translator.
 
 302 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of the riders upon black horses. His dress, embroidered as formerly, 
 was easily distinguished from the costume of the people who pressed 
 around him. When he mounted on the steps of the altar, I imagined I 
 saw the holy victim offering himself a voluntary sacrifice. He de- 
 scended, and passing again through the disordered ranks, went and 
 seated himself beside the Queen and his children. 
 
 " The people saw him no more until he ascended the scaffold." 
 
 (29) Page 104. 
 
 Charles I. had a handsome face, and a mild, but melancholy look. 
 His complexion was fair, his person of a healthy look, well-proportioned, 
 and of the middle size. He was capable of enduring fatigue, and ex- 
 celled in horsemanship and other manly exercises. All admit that he 
 was a tender husband, an indulgent father, and a kind master ; in a 
 word, worthy of love and respect.^ Unhappily, Fate seated him on a 
 throne at a time when the examples of former reigns favoured" arbitrary 
 power, and when the popular mind turned strongly towards liberty. In 
 any other age that sovereign would have been sure of a tranquil reign ; 
 but the exalted ideas of the powers and prerogatives in which he had 
 been brought up rendered him incapable of a prudent submission to 
 that spirit of freedom which prevailed so powerfully among his subjects. 
 His political system was not sustained with that rigour and foresight 
 which were necessary in order to support his prerogatives up to the 
 point to which he had pushed them. Exposed continually to the 
 assaults of furious factions, incapables and fanatics, his faults and his 
 mistakes drew after them the most fatal consequences. A situation 
 too rigorous even for the highest degree of human capability ! 
 
 The parties which divided the kingdom were the general convulsions 
 of all understandings and hearts ; a violent and thoughtless ardour to 
 change the constitution of the state ; an ill-conceived design among 
 the royalists to establish despotic power ; a fury for liberty in the House 
 of Commons ; a desire among the bishops to get rid of the Calvinistic 
 portion of the Puritans ; the project formed among the Puritans to 
 humble the bishops ; and, in fine, the secret but successful scheme of 
 the Independents to avail themselves of the faults of the rest, and thus 
 become their masters. 
 
 In the midst of this state of anarchy, the Catholics of Ireland 
 massacred the 40,000 Protestants who were among them ; and King 
 Charles I. adopted the fatal advice to sustain power by main force. 
 He quitted London, went to York, assembled his forces, and stopping 
 near Nottingham, raised the royal standard, an open sign of civil war 
 throughout the whole realm. One battle after another was fought, at 
 
 1 Cromwell and his republicans respected their liberties more than they did the 
 manly beauty and private virtues of a tyrant. — Tr.^nslator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3O3 
 
 first favourable to the prince, but afterwards unfortunate and disastrous. 
 After having received into his army the odious Irish, stained with the 
 blood of their own countrymen, and cut to pieces by Lord Fairfax, at 
 the Battle of Naseby, which followed the victory of Marston, nothing 
 remained to the unlucky monarch but the painful reflection of having 
 furnished his subjects a pretext for accusing him of being an accom- 
 plice in the horrible massacre committed by these same Irish Catholics 
 on the 22nd of October, 1641. 
 
 Charles went on from misfortune to misfortune. He thought to find 
 safety in the Scottish army, and threw himself into its hands. But the 
 Scots sold him, and delivered him over to the English commissioners. 
 He escaped from their vigilance, and sought refuge in the Isle of 
 Wight, whence he was taken and carried off to the castle of Hulst. His 
 death was now determined on. Cromwell, Ireton and Harrison estab- 
 lished a Court of Justice, in which they were the chief actors, assisted 
 by several members of the Lower House, and some of the citizens of 
 London. Three times was the monarch brought before this illegal 
 Court, and three times did he refuse to admit its jurisdiction over him, 
 but finally, on the 30th of January, 1649, his head was severed at a 
 blow, at Whitehall. A man in a mask performed the office of execu- 
 tioner, and the body was deposited in Windsor Chapel. — M. Juiicoiirt. 
 
 (30) Page 105. 
 
 After the 21st of January, 1793, ambitious and turbulent men, unden 
 the name of liberty, busied themselves in producing all the disorders of 
 anarchy. In losing her King, France experienced all the evils of oli- 
 garchy and licence in their turn. Cowardly intriguers, the opprobrium 
 and contempt of all nations, stood up as the apostles of a false doctrine, 
 subversive of society. They boldly preached the equalisation of property. 
 The most of them were bound together by a solemn oath, by which they 
 swore the destruction of the sovereigns who occupied the thrones of 
 Europe. Ever-vigilant sentinels, where the object was to protect the 
 genius of evil, they kept constantly watching at the gates of palaces, in 
 order to introduce themselves, on the slightest signal, and strike the 
 blow. The pass-word. Liberty, was on their lips, and the rallying cry, 
 Pr^daris, was engraved upon their hearts with a pen of iron. " 'Tis 
 necessary," said these sons of Abiram, "to labour ardently for the re- 
 edification of the worship of the good Goddess, and to surround ourselves 
 with companions who will, when the signal is given, which is well 
 known among us, appoint, in concert, an arcliitfct to direct the work, 
 and employ themselves assiduously in bringing it -to a close, under the 
 eyes of the grand master." 
 
 Good sense is a prophet 'w/iose sight is shuypoied by past experience. Men's 
 optics seem better fitted to that kind of retrograde light than to the direct rays 
 which the present sheds upon them.
 
 304 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (31) Page 106. 
 
 These feasts were devoted to pleasure and amusements of every 
 description. The Romans threw aside the toga, and appeared in their 
 eating habits ; they sent presents to the slaves, as we send New Year's 
 gifts. Games of chance, forbidden at other times, were then permitted ; 
 the senate had a vacation ; public business ceased at the different 
 offices or bureaux, and the schools were closed It was regarded as an 
 unlucky omen to commence a war, or to punish a criminal, during a 
 season thus consecrated to pleasure. In the evening, the children 
 would announce the festival by running through the streets, and crying 
 "/o Saturnalia!" There are medals still extant on which is engraved the 
 customary exclamation announcing the feast of the Saturnalia. 
 
 M. Spanheim refers to one of these medals, which owed its origin to 
 the piquant jest provoked by Narcissus, a freedman of Claudius, when 
 that Emperor sent him into Gaul to quell a sedition which had broken 
 out among the troops. Narcissus took it into his head to mount the 
 tribune and harangue the army, in place of the general ; but the 
 soldiers set up the cry of " lo Saturnalia ! " signifying that it was the 
 feast of the Saturnalia when the slaves became the masters. 
 
 The statue of Saturn, which was bound with woollen fillets during 
 the whole year, in commemoration, apparently, of his captivity by the 
 Titans and Jupiter, was unbound during this feast, either to mark his 
 deliverance, or to represent the liberty which prevailed during the 
 Golden Age, and that which was enjoyed during the Saturnalia. On 
 this occasion, every appearance of servitude was banished ; the slaves 
 wore the cap of liberty, dressed themselves like citizens, and chose for 
 themselves a king of the feast. — Encyclopedie. 
 
 The follies of the Romans were renewed in France in 1793, with 
 this difference, that ours were stained with guilt. In those days of 
 painful memory, when the slaves revolted against their masters, when 
 the son armed himself against the father, and the father against the 
 son, the most holy things were horribly profaned ; scandalous pro- 
 cessions perambulated the streets of the capital ; the pontifical robes 
 became the clothing of laymen. The sacred vessels of the Church were 
 put to the vilest uses, and, instead of Saturn, women of disreputable 
 character and habits were drawn through the streets in open carriages, 
 accompanied by shameless Jacobins. But a great portion of them were 
 young, timid girls, who, in order to save their fathers from death or 
 exile, were obliged to enrol themselves under the banner of the factitious 
 Goddess of Liberty, and accompany her to the Champ de Mars, where 
 their brothers and friends were grouped round an altar adorned with 
 green grass and fruits, awaiting the arrival of that divinity in whose 
 honour they were to pour out numerous libations. Their dances, sports 
 and frequent toasts reminded one strongly of the time when the soldiers
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 305 
 
 of Hannibal forgot themselves in the plains ot Capua. But the resem- 
 blance of the people, so difterent in their manners and the times they 
 lived in, was not at all to the advantage of the moderns. The Cartha- 
 ginians forgot that they were the men who had now nearly achieved 
 the conquest of the conquerors of the world ; while th» leaders of the 
 movement in France, after devoting a few hours to a shameful spectacle, 
 returned to their dens to sign new accusations and proscriptions against 
 those who had been the objects of their adulation. It was reserved for 
 our age to witness what was regarded among the ancients as the last 
 punishment of wicked men, the scattering abroad of the ashes of the 
 dead — to see, I say, such a disposition applauded as the master-work of 
 philosophy ! And what was the crime of our ancestors that we should 
 thus treat their remains, unless it was to have been the fathers of such 
 children ! But hear the end of all this and observe the enormity of the 
 human species. In some towns in France, dungeons were built in the 
 midst of graveyards ; prisons were erected for men in places where God 
 has decreed that all slavery shall cease ; places devoted to suffering 
 usurped the peaceful abodes where all pain had ceased. Indeed, but one 
 resemblance remained between those prisons and those cemeteries — here 
 were pronounced the unjust judgments of men, and here, also, had been 
 pronounced the decree of God's inviolable justice. 
 
 The ancients would have thought that nation undone where the 
 asylum of the dead should have been violated. The excellent laws of 
 the Egyptians respecting sepulture are well known. By the laws of 
 Solon, he who should violate the tomb was cut oft" from all worship in 
 the temple of the gods, and devoted to the Furies. The Institutes of 
 Justinian lay down particular rules respecting the sale and redemption 
 of a sepulchre. — M. de Chdteaicbriand. 
 
 (32) Page log. 
 
 Madame Beauharnais bestowed the most aftectionate care on her 
 husband. He was arrested before her, and she took advantage of the 
 last moments of her liberty to interest some of the leading men of the 
 Kevolution in his behalf.' But the modern Mariuses now saw fit to 
 forget the distinguished attentions they had received at her hands, and 
 refused her all sympathy. Nay, they hastened to sign the order for her 
 imprisonment, and in a short space of time the same prison-house con- 
 tained them both. — Note communicated. 
 
 I Madame Beauharnais was then residing in the Rue St. Dominique, in a house 
 belonging to Madame Ho'.stein. She was here arrested, and conducted to the house of 
 the Carmelite priests, which was then used as a prison. During her imprisonment, 
 her generous friend, Madame Holstein, took care of Hortense and provided for all her 
 wants. 
 
 VOL, I 20
 
 306 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (33) Page no. 
 
 Letter from Alexander Beauharnais to his mife , dated tlw ,\th Thermidor, 
 
 year 2nd of the French Republic. 
 
 f 
 "All that has appeared from the sort of examination which their 
 
 numerous witnesses have undergone to-day, is, that I am the victim of a 
 set of villains calling themselves patriots. The probability that these 
 infernal machinations will follow me even to the Revolutionary tribunal 
 leaves me no hope, my dear friend, of ever seeing you or embracing my 
 children again. I will not speak to you of my regrets ; my tender affec- 
 tion for them, the fraternal attachment that binds me to you, can leave 
 you no room for doubt upon that subject, or as to the feelings with which 
 I shall leave the world. And I equally regret being separated from a 
 party which I love, and for which I would have given up my life a 
 thousand times — a party which I can no longer serve ; which beholds 
 my fall while it imputes to me culpable designs. This painful thought 
 does not permit me to hesitate in recommending to you to guard my 
 memory. Labour to vindicate it, and to prove that a life wholly con- 
 secrated to the service of my country ought, in the eyes of the sane 
 portion of the nation, to be sufficient to disprove and repel such odious 
 calumnies. This task you will probably think it best to postpone for the 
 present, for, during the storms of a revolution, a great people must ob- 
 serve a salutary caution. I shall die with calmness, though not without 
 the influences of those tender affections belonging to a sensitive heart ; 
 but I shall die with the courage of a Frenchman. Adieu, my dear 
 friend ; let my children be your consolation. Console them by teaching 
 them the truth respecting their father, and impressing upon their minds 
 the important lesson that virtue alone will enable them to efface the 
 recollection of my punishment and endear to my fellow-citizens the 
 memory of my public services and my titles. Adieu ! You know whom 
 I love. Be their consoling angel, and let your kind care prolong my 
 life in their memories. 
 
 "Alexander de Beauharnais." 
 
 (34) P'W no- 
 Josephine was in the habit of reading the public journals to the 
 
 numerous prisoners. They would collect in a group around her, and 
 listen in mournful and almost breathless silence ; but full often the 
 shriek of grief would break forth from some one of the listeners. Let 
 one paint to himself, if possible, the agony, the despair of that unhappy 
 wife when she saw the name of her husband inserted on those tablets of 
 death ! She fell down senseless, and did not recover from the terrible 
 shock for several days.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 307 
 
 (55) Page III. 
 
 A mulatto man, a relative of Lucette (sister dc hut of Josephine), who 
 had been brought up by the la Pagerie family, came to France in 1781, 
 and remained for some years in an American family. He was attached 
 to the service of M. de Beauharnais,' but afterwards quitted Europe, 
 and returned to Martinique at the time the negroes on the island were 
 in a state of revolt and driving the whites from their homes. The mu- 
 latto was among the more moderate of the revolters, and was sent to 
 France to the Committee of Public Safety, in order to ask for some 
 concessions in favour of the colony. He connected himself with the 
 principal members of that modern Inquisition, and finally became one 
 of the firmest supporters of that oligarchy. He associated with Chau- 
 mette, Marat, Ronsin, Henriot and others; and on the same day that it 
 was proposed to transfer Josephine from the prison where she was to that 
 of the Conciergerie, whence she was to be taken to the scaffold,- chance 
 brought the mulatto to the office of the clerk, where the proposition 
 was under discussion. Hearing the name of his former mistress 
 mentioned, he was touched with pity for one towards whom he had 
 been guilty of so many wrongs. It was the same mulatto whom she 
 had once pardoned, but who had again been guilty of the blackest 
 ingratitude towards her. 
 
 (36) Page 112. 
 
 It is true that Descartes, before Buffon, maintained that animals have 
 no souls. That question was discussed in the schools during the age of 
 Louis XIV. It is surprising that La Fontaine, than whom no wiser 
 man could have been found, was not consulted upon it ; I am persuaded 
 he would have decided it in the affirmative. 
 
 Marie Therese Charlotte (the Duchess of Angouleme) had received 
 from her brother a dog, which she took with her on leaving the Temple 
 prison. This faithful companion followed her until iSoi, when, falling 
 from the top of a balcony at the Palace de Paniatowski, at Warsaw, he 
 expired under his mistress's eyes. 
 
 It will not, perhaps, be out of place here to relate some other 
 incidents illustrative of canine fidelity during the Revolution. .V 
 butcher had been condemned to death by the Revolutionary Tribunal. 
 His dog followed the cart in which he was carried to the Place de la 
 
 1 At the time of her marriage with Beauharnais, Josephine had come with her 
 
 aunt, and taken up her residence in the house of a Madame dc Laa , Rue de I'Uni- 
 
 versitd : this woman was the daughter of Mar^chal de N . The mulatto remained 
 
 seven or eight months in the viscount's service, and, it is said, often accompanied him 
 to his regiment. 
 
 2 Madame Beauharnais, witli her own hand, cut off locks of her hair to send to 
 her children, so fully was she persuaded that she should not survive the general 
 proscription which was decimating all parties in France. 
 
 20 2
 
 3o8 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Revolution, to be executed. He followed his master with his faithful 
 eyes until the victim disappeared under the executioner's axe. After 
 searching a long time in vain to find his master, the animal followed the 
 same cart back to the Conciergerie ; he remained waiting at the prison 
 door, and the next morning again followed the cart, and thus continued 
 to follow it for more than a month. This fact was attested by numerous 
 witnesses, and is contained among the memoirs of the time. 
 
 M. de had been thrown into prison ; his two children, of a ten- 
 der age, came to visit him every day, with no other conductor than the 
 house-dog, which served them as a Mentor. He watched over them, 
 kept them out of the way of carriages, kept off the passers-by, and led 
 them always along the same way, so that they met not with the slightest 
 accident. 
 
 The unhappy Countess de P , a prisoner at La Petite Force, re- 
 
 cei\'ed an order transferring her the next morning to the Conciergerie, 
 and thence to the scaffold. She was sitting upon a bench in the court 
 of the police, and weeping piteously ; her companions in misfortune used 
 every possible argument to pacify her. " No, no," she said, with per- 
 fect sang-froid, " I cling no longer to existence; my husband perished at 
 Quiberon ; my sons have emigrated ; my only daughter has married one 
 of her father's assassins ; and I have only Azor (her dog) left to divert 
 and console me in my afflictions. I have lost my friends ; the most of 
 them have repaid my acts of kindness with the blackest ingratitude. 
 My domestics are in the service of my enemies, and have given them 
 the most false accounts respecting me. Every one has laboured to 
 calumniate me. But, in the midst of all my calamities, my faithful 
 Azor makes me forget that there are ingrates in existence. This poor 
 dog is old and infirm, and when he loses me he will be at the mercy of 
 fate." Madame Ancre, the keeper of the prison, promised her to take 
 charge of the dog. "I shall, then," said the countess, affectionately 
 grasping her hand, "die more contented." This, in a great degree, re- 
 stored her serenity, and she spent the following night quietly. At six 
 in the morning the officers came to conduct her to the Revolutionary 
 Tribunal ; she caressed Azor, bade him a final farewell, and committed 
 him to his new mistress. The latter again promised to take care of him. 
 It was noticed that, at the moment the fatal axe put an end to her life, 
 the poor dog set up a frightful howling, which he continued for three 
 days, and died on the fourth. 
 
 (37) P^'gc 114- 
 
 Many persons, amusing themselves with pointing out the analogies 
 which exist betwixt men's physical and moral qualities, and betwixt the 
 physical structures of men and those of animals, have remarked that 
 Danton had the head of a bull-dog, Marat that of an eagle, Mirabeau 
 that of a lion, and Robespierre that of a cat. The physiognomy of
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 309 
 
 Robespierre would change according to the occasion ; sometimes he had 
 the shy, unquiet mien of the cat ; now the ferocious visage of the wild 
 cat ; and now the fierce aspect of the tiger. The temperament of 
 Robespierre was at first melancholy, but became at last atrabilious. 
 In the Constitutional Assembly his complexion was calm and sombre; in 
 the National Convention it was yellow and livid. In the Constitutional 
 Assembly he seldom spoke without sighing ; in the National Convention 
 he never spoke without frothing at the mouth. The history of his tem- 
 perament may be regarded as the history of his life. 
 
 At first people called him the "patriot Robespierre," then the 
 "virtuous," then the "incorruptible," and finally the "great." The 
 time, however, came when he was called a "tyrant; " for a sans-cnlotte, 
 seeing him stretched out on a board in the hall of the Committee of 
 General Safety, exclaimed, " This, then, is a tyrant, and nothing else! " 
 
 Every man of sense must feel disgusted at popular folly when he 
 hears the appellatives which the rabble bestowed on Robespierre — 
 every one of which was gratuitous and undeserved. He was neither a 
 Sylla, a Catiline, an Octavius, nor a Cromwell. All these usurpers 
 were warriors, and some of them men of talent. Robespierre was not 
 a Nero ; for, though Nero died like a coward, he was, at least, a bold 
 and hardy gladiator. Should Robespierre be called a Catiline because 
 he had his Cetheguses about him to conduct his intrigues ? — An 
 Octavius, because he had an Antony ready to commit murder for him ? 
 — A Sylla because he had a Marius to aid him in corrupting the 
 army ? — A Cromwell because he had his Harry Vane to utter orations ? 
 — A Nero because he had his Anicetuses to do the work of assassination ? 
 — Ah ! suffer his devotees to call him a God, since he, too, had his 
 palsied man at his side ! 
 
 The difference of opinion will be the same as to the political title 
 which properly belongs to him. He was neither a dictator, a triumvir, 
 nor a tribune ; he was the Appius of the decemvirs. He found 
 Claudiuses who, to gratify his lusts, placed another Virginia, not in his 
 arms, but on the scaffold. — Coiirtois. 
 
 Robespierre for a while cherished the idea that he would mount the 
 throne of France. His intended marriage with the heiress of the old 
 King was not a mere fabricated idea ; he really, for a time, cherished 
 that chimera. He once had a dream ; he saw himself in the act of 
 being crowned in the church of Notre Dame, and when the archbishop 
 was solemnly chanting the Te Dcuin, the lightnings of heaven struck the 
 nave of the church, and split it in twain ; at the same moment a young 
 child appeared, wearing on its head a crown, which it went and laid in 
 the lap of a female prisoner in the Temple ; then, with a red-hot iron, 
 it branded Robespierre on the forehead, at the same time presenting to 
 his lips a cup filled with a liquid resembling blood, and compelled him 
 to drink of it. The fable of the conception of a new Messiah is in
 
 3IO NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 some sort derived from this famous vision. After the example of 
 Cromwell, towards the close of his career, he affected a double 
 hypocrisy, pretending to lean towards clemency, showing great zeal 
 for the cause of God, advocating His Worship and the immortality of 
 the soul. 
 
 (38) Page 116. 
 
 Let us forget, for a moment, that Tallien was a member of the 
 famous Convention, and only call to mind the zeal he displayed in 
 attacking, with the arms of reason, the ferocious Titans, and wresting 
 from them the iron sceptre with which they had oppressed an unhappy 
 people. This noble conduct won him many and zealous friends, and 
 it may be truly said that the good results which followed this important 
 reaction were owing, in part, to his humanity, and his sincere desire to 
 restore a calm after so violent a tempest. To the weak he became an 
 advocate, to the orphan a protector. His good deeds far surpassed 
 men's expectation, for they could hardly imagine that the same man 
 who was registered to the commune of Paris during the days of the 
 2nd and 3rd of September could be susceptible of humanity. But 
 the reason of it was quite simple ; he did not either instigate or co- 
 operate in the crimes of the maddened rabble. After the fall of 
 Robespierre he became the hope of all honest men; they were all 
 attached to his cause ; it was the cause of honour. The good which 
 he did, the services which he rendered, ought to be inscribed upon 
 monuments of marble, to awaken the admiration of our posterity. 
 In the winding course of revolution, a man may easily be led astray ; 
 he may commit faults ; but how great, how sublime is he when he 
 repairs them ! 
 
 (39) Page 116. 
 
 During the imprisonment of M. and Madame Beauharnais (which 
 lasted several months), their son was adopted by a modest but intelli- 
 gent artisan. Young Eugene, like Peter the Great, w^as instructed at 
 an early age in the mechanic arts. The chisel became familiar to him. 
 His father's fortune became the prey of the spoilers. This offspring 
 of noble victims of proscription would (so far as it regarded his pro- 
 fession) have become a second Rozelli but for the maternal kindness 
 which never ceased to watch over him and his sister. The young 
 Emile had not to regret his days spent in effeminate pleasures ; he 
 knew too well already that a great captain must take lessons in the 
 school of adversity, and could never learn too much. He daily studied 
 Rousseau and Montesquieu ; but was most pleased with laying plans, 
 erecting little redoubts, and putting his imaginary armies in order of 
 battle. He would perform his simulated combats, and then be heard 
 to say, " To-day I have beaten the Prussians ; to-morrow the Germans 
 will have their turn. As to the Bavarians, I will protect them." Thus
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3II 
 
 his time passed on, until his mother, having again obtained her Uberty, 
 was able to devote all her attention to the care of her children, and the 
 perfecting of their education. 
 
 (40) Page 116. 
 
 At the time of the terrible explosion on the 3rd Nivose, Madame 
 Bonaparte obtained a pardon for one of those villains who were 
 sentenced to be transported beyond the territory of France, as a 
 measure of extraordinary precaution. Her only reason for it was 
 that the guilty wretch (for he was indeed guilty) had been one of 
 those who, at a former period, had denounced her to the Committees 
 of General Security and Public Safety. This man, being the father and 
 only support of a numerous family, had had the hardihood to ask for 
 the kind offices of a woman whom he had once sought to destroy. 
 This act of boldness saved him. The evening after, Josephine said to 
 Bonaparte, "I have, but with great difficulty, obtained from Fouche 
 the erasure of this famous revolutionist's name from the list of the 
 proscribed, although he once attempted to bring me to the guillotine. 
 I may, perchance, through this act of clemency, restore to society a 
 man valuable for his talents."--"! doubt that," said Bonaparte. 
 " You never meet with a Cinna among such persons ; they care for 
 nothing but their own personal interest ; to them, the ' love of 
 country ' is, and ever will be, but a vain expression." Josephine 
 ultimately had occasion to repent of her kindness ; after the Restora- 
 tion, he circulated the most horrible calumnies about her. 
 
 (41) Page 117. 
 
 At this sad epoch, Madame Beauharnais' condition approached 
 very near to indigence. Her only diversion was to go every day to 
 Chaillot, where Madame Fontenay, her friend, then resided. At 
 this place the best company was usually assembled. But the most 
 of the persons who were found there were, like Madame Beauharnais, 
 the victims of pohtical events ; honourable but painful recollections 
 were all that were left them. 
 
 (42) Page 118. 
 
 Madame de Fontenay had been transferred from the prison of 
 Bordeaux to that of the capital. Robespierre employed every seductive 
 means in his power to persuade her to denounce Tallien and Irabeau, 
 then on a mission into the Gironde. Thirty thousand francs and a 
 passport to Spain were offered to this interesting woman, if she would 
 make herself agreeable to Maximilien, and become subservient to his 
 \iews. She asked eight days to reflect upon the proposal. As her 
 imprisonment was rigorously kept secret, and as she was deprived of
 
 312 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 all the means of corresponding with anyone, she concluded to ask her 
 jailer for a brush and paints, assuring him that she could paint his 
 portrait to the life. Frangois believed it all, but refused to give her 
 pencils or paper. She, however, wrote upon a piece of linen cambric 
 a letter to Tallien, and contrived to send it to Mademoiselle Montensier, 
 the old directress of the theatres of the Court, then detained in the 
 same prison. It was shown to the most determined opponents of 
 Robespierre in the Convention. For some days Madame Fontenay 
 expected to be put to death, having refused to sign any declaration 
 which was against her principles and sense of justice. Fortunately, 
 her secret communication was made known to Tallien, who saw at 
 once the depths of the abyss on whose brink he stood. He then 
 exerted himself to the utmost to hasten forward the events of the 
 9th Thermidor, which were to save the elite of the French generals 
 and the most talented promoters of the arts. 
 
 On the nth Thermidor, the gendarmes came to the prison to 
 conduct Madame Fontenay to the bar of the Convention. She was 
 unwilling, owing to her painful situation, to appear there alone, and 
 requested Madame Beauharnais to accompany her. The gendarmes 
 then searched out the disconsolate widow, who, of course, supposed 
 herself about to be led to the scaffold. But both of them appeared 
 at the bar. The more rational portion of the Assembly became in- 
 dignant when they heard of their unmerited sufferings. They lavished 
 their consolations upon them, promised them much, and, as is usual 
 in revolutions, ended by forgetting all. But Tallien acknowledged the 
 debt of gratitude due to them both. He married the one who had 
 shown such a deep interest in his welfare, and protected the other 
 by all the means in his power. 
 
 (43) Page 118. 
 
 Just before being called to the command of the army of Italy, 
 Bonaparte slyly insinuated to Madame Tallien that, if she would 
 consent to be divorced from her husband, he would be highly pleased 
 to offer her his hand, and would insure her a life of happiness. 
 That famous woman, who was then the charm of the capital, was 
 much surprised at the proposition, and refused it. The young Corsican 
 became highly incensed, and swore vengeance against her. He kept 
 his word. After he had become Emperor, he frequently forbade 
 Josephine to receive visits from that old friend of hers. He had 
 been in love with her, and, as he could never pardon her for the 
 dislike she had manifested towards his person, he was induced, by a 
 sense of wounded pride, to refuse her for a time the honours of the 
 palace. " Had she wished it," said he to Josephine, smiHng, " she 
 might have reigned in your stead; we should have had fine children.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 3I3 
 
 But, after all, she did rightly in keeping her vows to Tallien ; that's 
 all well enough ; but not to have perceived what I was worth, either 
 for the present or the future, that is what wounds me. Happily, I am 
 indemnified for her disdain by the consciousness that the woman 
 who has replaced her in my affections, equals and even surpasses 
 her in many respects." 
 
 (44) -^'"i''' 119- 
 
 When Maria Antoinette of Austria was transferred to the Con- 
 ciergerie, she was confined in a room called the Chamhrc du Conseil, 
 which was regarded as the most unhealthy room in that horrible 
 prison, always humid and infectious. Under the pretext of giving 
 her someone to whom she could make known her wants, they sent 
 her a man to act as a spy over the imhappy Queen. His voice and 
 face were frightful, and he was charged with the most filthy and 
 disgusting offices about the prison. His name was Barassin, a thief 
 and a murderer by profession, who had been convicted by the criminal 
 tribunal, and sentenced to four years' confinement in irons. The 
 keeper of the prison, being in want of an additional 7vcitch-dog, had 
 procured this wretch, Barassin, a cunning knave, and placed him in 
 the Conciergerie, where he still had his galley-slave's bench. Such 
 was the honest personage who acted as valet dc chamhre to the Queen 
 of France ! 
 
 Some days before her death, this highway-robber functionary was 
 removed from her, and a gendarme stationed in her room as a sentinel, 
 who watched night an'd day by her side, and from whom she was 
 not separated, even while asleep upon her bed of rags, except by a 
 miserable screen which was in tatters. In this dismal abode, the 
 daughter of the Roman Emperor had no other clothing than a black 
 gown half worn out, which she was obliged to mend every day in 
 order to hide her nakedness from those who visited her. She was 
 even without shoes to her feet. Such was the end of Maria Antoinette, 
 before whom all Europe had bent the knee, on whom every honour 
 which can be rendered to a mortal had been lavished, and for whom 
 the world's treasures had been open. 
 
 (45) J^t^g^ "9- 
 
 Madame Beauharnais was still in prison when she learned from 
 a report brought her by some unfortunates who were compelled to 
 share her imprisonment, that a certain young woman had foretold to 
 Maximilien Robespierre, St. Just, and another whose name was La 
 Fosse, and who was the administrator of the central bureau, that 
 they would all be tried and condemned within the year, but upon 
 different charges. While waiting for the fulfilment of this astonish- 
 ing prediction, those virtuous citizens thought it prudent to .shut up
 
 314 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 a familiar damon, who had promised them that, as a recompense for 
 their revolutionary labours, the lex talionis should be applied to them. 
 This report greatly excited the curiosity of the female prisoners. Each 
 one of them, for herself, wished to consult the prophetess, but the 
 Parisian oracle was doing penance for her veracity in the Petite Force 
 prison. They contrived, however, to send her all the documents 
 necessary to enable her to take a perfect horoscope.' Mademoiselle 
 Montensier, who was in the same prison with her, charged herself 
 with taking it down. After many scientific calculations, a response 
 was given to each one of them according to what her fortune indi- 
 cated. That of Madame de Beauharnais was the more strange— that 
 she was apparently on the eve of sharing the awful fate of her 
 husband. But, happily, point 99 settled in her favour the question 
 of her future lot. It was then predicted that she was about to ex- 
 perience a most terrible catastrophe, but that she would survive it, 
 and marry another man who should astonish the world. Such was 
 the substance of the fortune as then told her. Some months after 
 her liberation from the Carmelite prison, she chanced to be at Madame 
 
 D 's, where the conversation was upon bad fortunes. "Mine is 
 
 not so," said she, "and yet I have never known anything but grief. 
 Will you believe it, I have had the curiosity to attempt to lift a little 
 corner of the veil which conceals the future. A female prisoner 
 has repeated to me, word for word, in a writing which I have here, 
 what was told me in my childhood. I should like to know whether 
 that woman is still alive." One of the ladies present replied, "I'll 
 wager 'tis Mademoiselle Lenormand. Yes, I am well acquainted with 
 her handwriting — this is hers! " 
 
 "Let's go, then," said the charming widow. "Do you know her 
 address ? " 
 
 "Yes, Rue de Journon," was the reply ; and oft" they went, through 
 the Faubourg St. Germain, in search of her, and stopped at No. 1153 
 (at present No. 5).^ 
 
 On seeing these strangers, I could not help feeling surprised, 
 because I had taken good care not to admit into my presence any 
 
 1 The month and day of the applicant's birth, the age, the first letters of the 
 prBenomen, and the birth-place ; the favourite colour, the animal preferred, the 
 animal most disliked, and the favourite flower. 
 
 2 The Empress used to relate, seriously, the fact that Bonaparte once took the 
 notion into his head to consult the Parisian Oracle. It was at the time when he 
 thought of playing, at the Court of the Grand Sultan, the part of another Count de 
 Bonneval, being then unable to obtain employment from the French Government. 
 The response given him by the fortune-teller was this : " You will not obtain a pass- 
 port ; your destiny calls you to act a distinguished part in France. A widow woman 
 shall there be your happiness ; through her influence you shall attain an elevated 
 rank, but beware you do not become ungrateful towards her. It will go well with you, 
 then,' if you remain constantly united ; but " (s/if did not finish).
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 315 
 
 except such as came recommended. The reason was that I was anxious 
 to avoid new persecutions, and I therefore, at first, refused to receive 
 them. They, however, satisfied me of the purity of their intentions, 
 assuring me, in the politest manner, tliat I need not suspect them of a 
 design to denounce me. Alas ! during those unhappy times I felt 
 suspicious of everybody, and could trust no one. 
 
 (46) Piige 121. 
 
 People flocked to the Directory to admire tlie elegant style of dress 
 adopted by our five new monarchs. Unhappy France, since 1793, had 
 had for masters none but men dressed in carmagnoles of sheep's grey, 
 with a cap to match. But now gaudy plumes were seen floating on the 
 heads of our five governors, and the richest embroideries sparkled upon 
 their mantles. The directors spoke a pure and correct dialect, and 
 listened with grace and good-nature to the claims of the numerous 
 victims who had escaped from the prisons. Paris might have yielded 
 itself up to a feeling of security after the fall of our Sylla ; but the 
 population, as during the days of the League, were in want of all the 
 necessaries of life. Everything was at the maximum, and with the 
 maximum people were in want of everything. In every household 
 there was stuck up a certificate showing the number of persons com- 
 posing it. Fortified by the certificate, which was signed and delivered 
 by the police commissioner of the ward, people flocked to the doors of 
 the bakers' shops to take their turn according to their number. The 
 baker distributed a kind of black, miserably-baked bread, at the price 
 fixed, and at the rate of two ounces and a-half for each mouth per day. 
 It was sometimes necessary to fight for one's place at the door or in the 
 shops, for it often happened that the last half of those who had hold of 
 the rope were compelled to go away without bread. Although these 
 are painful recollections, it is impossible not to laugh at the character- 
 istic gaiety of the French, a quality which never belies itself, even in the 
 most distressing circumstances. Women would often put bundles, or 
 even earthen pans, under their petticoats, giving themselves the appear- 
 ance of being enceinte, in order to secure a passage through the crowd. 
 /Vnd the same people who during the forenoon had gone hungry, while 
 waiting two or three hours for a couple of ounces of badly-cooked 
 bread, would, in the evening, hasten to the theatres, to see played La 
 I'ai-faite Egaliti-, or the Thee and Thou: the Jugenient dernier des Rois : 
 Tarquin, or the Abolition of Royalty ; the Apotheosis of Marat, and other 
 revolutionary pieces ; so that it might then have been truly said of the 
 French that " the proud Romans wanted only shows and bread, but the 
 French content themselves with shows without bread." 
 
 The most unfortunate class of persons manifested little respect for 
 the five directors. " This palace of the Luxembourg," said they, in
 
 3l6 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 mockery, "is but a waxen building; a single ray of the summer's sun 
 will melt it down with its new inmates — they will remain there no 
 longer than their predecessors." 
 
 At the bottom of a picture, on which were painted the five directors 
 in a group, some wag had painted a caricature, full of point, repre- 
 senting a lancet, a stalk of lettuce, and a rat, perfectly executed ; the 
 meaning of which was that the year VII. should kill them off. 
 
 (47) Page 121. 
 
 That enthusiasm which is so prevalent among us for gymnastic 
 exercises is inherent in our national customs. The horrors of the 
 French Revolution, the recent loss of so many heads of families, should, 
 perhaps, have lent to the national character an air of gravity which it 
 did not before exhibit. " At all times," as Brantome says, " the sons of 
 Gaul have carried everything, even their griefs, to extremes ; and yet 
 pleasure must ever predominate among so fickle and frivolous a race." 
 After the gth Thermidor nothing was more common than for the 
 accuser and the accused, the executioner and his victim, the assassin 
 and the daughter of the murdered father to meet together in the same 
 company. The balls a la victime were much in vogue, and the most 
 piquant anecdotes were related of what took place at them. Families 
 vied with each other in attending them, and it often happened that the 
 son of a member of the Convention of 1793 took the pas djc schal with 
 the daughter of some emigrant marquis. The most ferocious men of 
 the time became tame and tractable while waltzing with the niece of 
 of their old seigneur ; their hands, still stained with the blood of her 
 relations, would press hers most affectionately. What they had been 
 was all forgotten in what they now were — the past was thrust aside in 
 order to fly upon the wings of the present. In a word, the then Paris 
 did not resemble the Paris of former days ; everything was metamor- 
 phosed — even sorrow itself underwent a transformation. The social 
 circles were brilliant, the reunions were numerous ; everybody strove 
 to appear tr la Grecquc, and to forget the misfortunes of the Trojans. 
 
 (48) Page 122. 
 
 This was a very laborious man, and a sincere friend to the funda- 
 mental principles of liberty. Incorruptible, and worthy in every 
 respect of the confidence and esteem of the public, though he had not 
 the talents of our great orators, he left them far behind in probity. 
 Napoleon esteemed him for his honesty, although he did little for him. 
 " He is a good man," was his language; " I have nothing to fear from him." 
 Letourneur's last years were passed in sorrow and bitterness, but, 
 happily, religion came to his aid, and surrounded him with all her con- 
 solations. He died the death of the righteous ; for God, more merciful 
 than man, can pardon offences and forgive the repentant.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 317 
 
 (49) Page 122. 
 
 At the time of the rupture among the Jacobins, Rewbel passed over 
 to the Society of the Feuillans, and, in spite of the example of all his 
 colleagues, refused to return. " 'Tis," said he, " best to be consistent. " 
 Yes, as to principles, but not errors. 
 
 (50) Page 122. 
 
 This founder of a new sect had but few followers. The Theo- 
 philanthropists permitted no external pomp ; they simply offered to 
 the God of the universe the first flowers and fruits of the season. 
 They sang in honour of the Supreme Being hymns expressive of 
 their peculiar sentiments. Ceremonies so novel attracted throngs 
 of the curious as spectators, who, when they discovered among the 
 worshippers a leader who had been a high-priest at St. Sulpice, could 
 not but remember that they had seen him figuring among the icono- 
 clasts of his age. He inspired them with no respect. The greater 
 portion of his acolytes had been members of the old revolutionar} 
 committees. They were dressed in white robes with their waists 
 girded with tricoloured ribbons. To use a Scripture phrase, they 
 were wliited sepulchres ; they raised to Heaven hands still stained with 
 their brothers' blood. They invoked the King of kings, and asked 
 Him to protect so impious a sect. At the other end of the temple 
 of the Lord, the sounding vaults no longer rang with those sacred 
 hymns, the only consolation of the portion of Christians who remained 
 faithful to the worship of their fathers ; they contented themselves 
 with uttering their prayers in whispers. 
 
 Those Saturnalia were of short duration ; people were left to visit 
 Baal : the sectaries, reduced to themselves merely, were forced to 
 abandon their temple. As no miracle was wrought by the new 
 worshippers at the Church of St. Sulpice, it was not thought neces- 
 sary longer to continue upon its principal door the distich that had 
 been inscribed upon it (as also upon that of St. Medard) : — 
 
 " De part le peuple, defense a Dieu, 
 D'op^rer miracle en ce lieu." 
 
 St. Sulpice was re-opened to the fer\ent Catholics, and it was 
 soon forgotten that for some months the Theophilanthropiats had 
 scandalised all Paris. 
 
 (51) Page 123. 
 
 This director affected an extreme simplicity. Far from imitating 
 the luxurious habits of his colleagues, he saw but little company, 
 and kept himself shut up the most of the time in the bosom of his 
 family, towards whom he was affectionate. He gave audiences, made 
 few promises, but was obliging. When he was about to give you a
 
 3l8 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 favourable answer, his face became more smiling, his manners more 
 agreeable ; everything about him showed the good man. I will not 
 now seek to condemn him, nor to absolve him from past errors — I 
 will only say with Virgil : 
 
 " Grandia saspe quibus mandavimus hordea sulcis 
 Infelix lolium et steriles dominantur avense." — Ec. V. 
 
 (52) Page 124. 
 
 Barras was the only one of the directors who was convinced that 
 he was in reality only a monarch a tcvme, as he laughingly told 
 Bonaparte. It would appear that this director leaned in favour of 
 the Bourbons ; he desired their recall, and hoped, under them, to 
 be the first person in the kingdom ; but the general of the army of 
 Italy, who had foreseen this at the time of the famous elimination 
 of Fructidor, had carefully kept his eye upon him. The rumour went 
 abroad that he had signed a treaty in favour of the Pretender, and 
 that he had been provided for in this important negotiation ; that 
 the sum of 600,000 francs received by him, was but a prelude to 
 what he was to receive on the same account. As to title and rank, 
 it was understood that the baton of a marshal of France was ofTered 
 him. So many stories could not help awakening suspicion. Bona- 
 parte was among the first to credit them. He stood little in fear of 
 his patron ; he was stimulated by ambition, and was unwilling to 
 give up to others what he could keep for himself. The third place 
 in the government did not suit him ; he wanted the first ; but Barras 
 was not willing to make him such a concession. " The right of 
 placing the crown of France on the head of the brother of Louis XVI. 
 should," said he, " belong to me alone, and not to others. Bonaparte 
 is capable of guiding the reaction in favour of the Bourbons ; but that 
 task is above the strength of the director. May an honourable and 
 deep repentance urge the general to do so of his own accord — but 
 as to political interests, I understand them too well not to keep him 
 at a distance from me, or not to catch him in my snare whenever 
 I wish." In a few days afterwards the two friends met ; they had 
 seen each other but seldom since Bonaparte's return from Egypt. 
 Barras was the first to break silence. " For ten years," said he to 
 Bonaparte, " France has been weighed down by great evils ; great 
 faults have been committed, and men of the most consistent principles 
 have, without being aware of it, inscribed their names on the list of 
 the guilty. You know, general, that in revolutions, sage and rare, 
 indeed, are those who stumble not — for in politics, two and two do 
 not always make four. The fall of the different Governments which 
 have succeeded the monarchy has fully convinced me that there is 
 but one kind of government capable of restoring to our country peace
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 319 
 
 and prosperity ; and that government is a constitutional charter, con- 
 fided to the enlightened wisdom of the legitimate heir to the throne." 
 
 Bonaparte could not dissemble his surprise ; for a moment he 
 thought the director was labouring to entrap him ; consequently he 
 dissembled, and pretended to fall in with Barras' views. Indeed, 
 he promised a great deal and declared that "in less than one month 
 France should see a new order of things, in which he, the general, 
 would co-operate with all his power." 
 
 Bonaparte was far from being sincere in this ; but it had the 
 effect so to deceive poor Barras that he promised the general anew 
 to associate his glory with his. 'Tis well known how he kept his 
 word. — Memoiyes pour serviy a rhistoire. 
 
 (53) Pagi^ 124. 
 
 Bonaparte was presented to him by Salicetti, a deputy from Corsica. 
 He was then a sub-lieutenant of artillery. The generals on the ground 
 had made some bad dispositions, which Bonaparte openly and boldly 
 condemned. In spite of the opposition of some of the old officers, he 
 presented a new plan, which was adopted. His particular attention 
 was directed to Fort Malgue, &c. 
 
 'G'^ 
 
 (54) r'agc 126. 
 
 The majority of the directors disliked Bonaparte. " The little leatlui- 
 breeches," said one of them, in a tone of contempt and buffoonery, " will 
 give us a second edition of Cromwell unless he's constantly watched. 
 'Tis enough for him to have done up the 13th Vendemiaire ; to give 
 him a superior command will take him off too far ; we must prevent 
 his acquiring celebrity." 
 
 " I will charge myself to guide him," said Barras. " Bonaparte will 
 never disobey my instructions. He is a man for active employment, 
 and, unless you consent to his elevation, he will rise in spite of you." 
 
 Nor did the patron forget his protege ; but the first opportunity that 
 presented itself, he secured his appointment as General-in-chief of the 
 army of Italy. 
 
 (55) ^"i'--' 126. 
 
 General Danican comn^anded the sections who had risen against the 
 Convention. Unfortunately, he became an object of suspicion to both 
 parties. In conversation with him, several of the deputies professed to 
 desire an accommodation. Words of peace were used in toasts that 
 were drunk, and at the moment when a favourable treaty was confi- 
 dently looked for, the cry of "Treason!" was raised on every side. 
 Danican was anxious to avert the calamities which menaced the capital ; 
 he temporised as long as possible, and perhaps too long. During the
 
 320 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 interval, the party attached to the Convention became by degrees 
 reinforced, and adopted proper measures to put down the sections. 
 The general was abandoned by everybody. He then transferred his 
 powers to General Alenou, and retired with a sigh, well knowing that 
 the approaching struggle would be a bloody one. The only fruit which 
 he reaped from the moderation he had shown towards his fellow-citizens 
 was a sentence of death. He remained for several months concealed in 
 the cellar of a church. He dared, however, to utter his voice from his 
 sepulchral hiding-place, and caused to be published a curious memoir 
 respecting the actors engaged in the affairs of that day, in which he 
 unmasked several of the guilty ; a step, however, which did not restore 
 his tranquillity until some thirteen months had passed. The decree 
 condemning him to death was reviewed, and finally rescinded, and 
 Danican was restored to his friends ; but he received only a small 
 indemnity for the ills he suffered and the losses he sustained. 
 
 (56) Page 129. 
 
 General Charette, at the breaking out of the insurrection of the 
 Vendeans in March, 1793, was tumultuously proclaimed chief of the 
 Canton of Machecoult, in place of St. Andre, who had shamefully fled 
 before the republicans. Drawn into the movement almost in spite of 
 himself, he placed himself at the head of the insurgents, immediately 
 took possession of Pornic, a small port two leagues from Nantes, and a 
 few days afterwards took the city of Machecoult, where the patriots left 
 twelve pieces of cannon, 12,000 pounds of powder, 1,500 men killed, and 
 500 prisoners. He then laid siege to Nantes, which he was prevented 
 from taking in consequence of the defection of the troops from the right 
 bank of the Loire, who, after sustaining several attacks, and witnessing 
 the death of their general, Cathelineau, ran off. Charette next directed 
 his movements against Lu9on, in concert with d'Elbee, led the third 
 attack, and was repulsed, when the latter was elected General-in-chief 
 of the Vendeans. Charette, chagrined by this choice, as well as by the 
 popularity enjoyed by Beauchamp and Bernard de Marigni, left them 
 both, and raised a separate army in Lower Poitou, and by his 
 temporary inaction became the cause of the check which the main 
 army experienced. But he was for a long time successful in the country 
 lying between Nantes and Les Sables, almost the whole of which he 
 occupied. But he was at length beaten near the latter of those two 
 cities, and also near Lu^on. He nevertheless took possession of the 
 Isles of Bonin and Noirmoutiers, which the republicans soon after 
 rescued from him ; and while Tureau took possession of the latter 
 island, Charette found himself compelled to fight at Machecoult. The 
 Convention having proposed an armistice to the royalists, a suspension 
 of arms was agreed on, and Charette, accompanied by other chiefs,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 32I 
 
 went to Nantes to conclude a treaty, which was broken almost as soon 
 as made. He then assembled the wrecks of his army and endeavoured, 
 but without success, to persuade the Count d'Artois, then on the Isle 
 Dieu with 4,000 English troops and 1,500 emigrants, to land upon the 
 part of the coast which he then occupied. From this period his reverses 
 commenced. In the latter part of February, 1796, he made up his mind 
 to risk another battle ; he was beaten, and only went on from one defeat 
 to another until the 23rd of March, on which day he was made a 
 prisoner at La Chabotiere by General Travot. Overcome by fatigue, 
 wounded in the head and in the hand, he attempted to make his way 
 by flight through a wood, assisted by two of his men, who resolved to 
 share his fate. The two soldiers were brought to the ground by two 
 musket shots from the pursuers, and Travot, throwing himself upon 
 Charette, called himself by name, and compelled Charette to surrender 
 his arms. He was conducted to Pont de Vic, and thence to Angers, 
 where he was tried ; he was thence transferred to Nantes to undergo his 
 sentence. While stepping out of the boat in which he had been brought, 
 he exclaimed, " See, then, where the English have brought me ! " 
 A priest who had taken the civic oath attended him to the place of 
 execution. He would neither get upon his knees nor suffer his eyes 
 to be bandaged. Without the slightest change of countenance, and 
 without any manifestation of fear, he looked upon the soldiers who 
 stood ready to fire upon him, and gave them the signal. He was of the 
 middle height and of a slender form, but of a proud bearing and stern 
 look. He may fairly be regarded as one of the workers of the ruin 
 of his party. — Biographic. 
 
 (57) Page 129. 
 
 The agitations by which empires are shaken always produce great 
 men, who astonish their age by the brilliancy of their' achievements. 
 The French Revolution is fruitful in examples of this kind, and it may 
 with truth be said of it that it created men. 
 
 Lazare Hoche was born at Montreuil, a faubourg of Versailles. His 
 mother died in giving him birth. Young Hoche at an early age con- 
 ceived a taste for the profession of arms, and at the age of sixteen 
 became one of the French guards. Some days after the taking of the 
 Bastille, the minister of war, Servan, remarking, at a review, the fine 
 martial air of Hoche, sent him a lieutenant's brevet in the regiment 
 de Rouergue. He appeared at the head of our battalions with all that 
 zeal and bravery which afterwards won him so much distinction. 
 
 At the battle of Hondschoote he became an adjutant-general, and 
 about the same time General-in-chief of the army of the Moselle. In 
 consequence of the glorious combat in the plains of Weissenbourg, 
 and of an act of boldness which facilitated the retreat of the army of 
 
 VOL. I 21
 
 322 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the Rhine through the Black Forest and its junction with the army 
 of the Moselle, he was appointed to the command of both those 
 armies. 
 
 Soon, however, he became suspected by the Committee of Public 
 Safety, and, like many others of our illustrious generals, shared 
 honourable chains. The acte of his accusation was already drawn 
 up, and he was about to appear before that murderous revolu- 
 tionary tribunal, when the events of the 9th Thermidor restored 
 him to liberty and to victory. 
 
 The Reign of Terror was over, but discord still agitated France. 
 The war in La Vendee, which had scarcely been lulled to sleep, now- 
 broke out anew and spread its ravages far and wide, menacing the 
 whole of the West of France. Hoche was at the head of the 
 army, on the coast of Brest, stationed there to repel the English 
 and the emigrants who, beaten at Carnac, and forced to evacuate 
 Aury, found themselves blockaded at Quiberon, and forced to lay 
 down their arms. 
 
 Hoche returned to Paris with the title of Pacificator of La Vendee. 
 His name, everywhere admired, was blessed by the inhabitants of 
 those unhappy districts. There will his memory be for ever cherished 
 by a people who regard him as a kind parent from whose hands 
 they have received pardons and favours. In the midst of those 
 desolated fields, where, for five years, crime had succeeded crime, 
 and disaster had followed disaster, he caused peace and plenty, 
 industry and hope, to return to the husbandman. 
 
 The Executive Directory, well aware of his courage and energy, 
 unanimously chose him to carry the war into Ireland. The enemy- 
 were then cruising off Brest ; but the French squadron managed 
 to elude its vigilance and put to sea. Having reached the open 
 sea, however, the wind became contrary ; it blew a hurricane, 
 stopped the progress of the squadron, and after the first night the 
 frigate which had Hoche on board was carried to a distance from 
 the rest of the fleet. The swiftness of her movements saved her 
 from the pursuit of the English. She at length reached the coast 
 of Ireland, but found no French squadron there. Hoche retired 
 from the hostile strand with regret, and gained the open sea, where 
 he encountered new tempests. He found himself in the midst of 
 the English fleet, but so violent was the storm that the Fyateinitc, 
 the frigate that bore him, was mistaken by the enemy for one of 
 their own vessels. 
 
 Just one month from his departure from Brest, Hoche landed at 
 Rochelle, without having executed his bold enterprise. 
 
 The command of the army of the Sambre-et-Meuse was confided 
 to Hoche. He had led his warriors to the bridge of Neuwied, and 
 General Lefebvre's division was already at the gates of Frankfort,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 323 
 
 when the news of the signing of the preHminaries of peace in Italy 
 arrested this new current of his triumph. 
 
 But while hostiUties were suspended in Germany and Italy, 
 discord was rending asunder the republic at home. Hatred and 
 disgust presided over the Legislature and the Directory ; that 
 harmony which was so necessary to the constituted authorities, 
 was totally destroyed, and a majority of the Directory being of 
 opinion that victory would crown the party that should strike the 
 first blow, determined upon a coup d'etat, and made way for the iSth 
 Fructidor. To accomplish that unconstitutional measure, the Di- 
 rectory cast their eyes upon Hoche, thinking him a fit person to 
 put down a party whom he had, while in the legislative body, 
 accused of royalism. 
 
 Already had the troops he commanded passed the boundaries 
 fixed by the Constitution on their way towards Paris, when the 
 legislative body complained of this violation of law to the Directory, 
 who pretended it was a mistake committed by one of the com- 
 missioners of war, and that the troops were destined for Brest, 
 where they were fitting out a new expedition to Ireland. 
 
 The Directory, finding that their schemes were understood, deter- 
 mined to press forward their execution. But General Hoche was no 
 longer their theme ; the five governors, fearing he might, in his turn, 
 use to their disadvantage the dictatorship they had made up their 
 minds to confer upon him, broke the instrument before making use 
 of it. 
 
 The sad predictions of General Charette on this subject now 
 recurred to his mind. He saw too late that he had been serving 
 an ungi^ateful party, and that they would not only refuse to thank 
 him for the good he had done, but would render it henceforth 
 impossible for him to attempt anything for his own glory or the 
 national honour. Meanwhile he joined the army of the Sambre-et- 
 Meuse, whose headquarters were at Wetzlar. But he could not 
 endure the ingratitude of men. In vain his friends urged him to 
 return to the bosom of his family and recruit his shattered health. 
 "No," he calmly replied ; " I will die in the midst of my soldiers, 
 and want no other consolation in my last moments than what these 
 brave men will bestow upon me — men who, I dare hope, will drop 
 a tear on the tomb of a general who has lost everything but hojioitv." 
 
 (58) Page I JO. 
 
 General Hoche, after the i8th Fructidor, fell into a kind of 
 apathy, which appeared truly extraordinary. His health was visibly 
 declining ; he adopted and rejected, by turns, all the remedies that 
 were suggested to him. His life was soon despaired of, and the 
 
 21 — 2
 
 324 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 handsomest of men presented nothing in his looks but symptoms 
 of dissolution. He gazed upon death with calmness. His mind 
 was struck with a prediction which Bonaparte once made him at 
 Tallien's, and, in recalling it, he would often say, " Yes, he was 
 certainly correct. I shall not outlive my thirtieth year ! I am a 
 victim — I shall die a victim; and I know not whence comes the 
 blow." 
 
 The premature death of the general gave rise to numerous con- 
 jectures at the time. Some accused the Directory; others, the 
 husband of a woman whom Hoche had tenderly loved. The truth is, 
 his death did not seem to be natural, and hence the thousand 
 versions which filled all the saloons of Paris. Some hours before 
 he breathed his last, he wrote the last letter to Madame Bonaparte, 
 revealing to her a famous secret, and inviting her to make use of it 
 whenever circumstances should permit. The memory of Hoche was 
 dear to Josephine ; she never alluded to him but with a feeling 
 of deep sadness. She was convinced that that old friend of hers 
 had drunk of the cup of Nero'; but never in anyone's presence did 
 she hint at the name or station of his persecutor.^ 
 
 (59) P^^ge 131. 
 
 After the death of Robespierre, the principal part of those who had 
 been most excessive in their revolutionary fury, affected to give them- 
 selves up blindly to the empire of fashion. The thick, bushy locks, 
 dressed a la Jacobine, were replaced by the elegant styles of head-dress, 
 a la Grecqiie, a la vidime, au repentir. Our French dames were dressed 
 a la Romaine. The petits-ma'itres, who had sat in the different com- 
 mittees and assemblies of the sections, outdid themselves in this line. 
 One would wear a powdered cue ; another a collar of green velvet ; 
 another exchanged his rounded waistcoat for a square one. Apart- 
 ments were decked out in the latest style, and the prices of articles 
 of luxury rose enormously. Gold and precious stones glittered on all 
 sides ; the most sumptuous and delicate feasts took the place of those 
 frugal repasts at which the hosts prided themselves on recalling into 
 use the dishes of the preceding age ; patron-feasts were disused, and 
 those were multiplied which tended to recall pleasing recollections. 
 Men did not, like the Romans, write the names of their mistresses with 
 wine spilled upon the table, but drank oblivion to those unhappy times, 
 or prolonged happiness to the present. Women became more co- 
 quettish, but more tender, and, perhaps, more faithful. The capital 
 
 1 The medical faculty at Paris discovered no positive traces of poison, and 
 hesitated in giving an opinion. 
 
 2 This monstrous imputation is destitute of all truth or probability. See "Thiers' 
 Hist. Fr. Rev." Vol. IV., p. 209.— Translator.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 
 
 325 
 
 \v 
 
 .as metamorphosed into a new Capua ; and the enormous caps with 
 fox-tails behind, and the great-coats with huge red capes hanging upon 
 the shoulders, disappeared from the antechambers ; and in their stead 
 were seen elegant hats and surtouts with numerous folds. The fine 
 cashmere vest took the place of the huge, coarse carmagnole jacket. 
 The morning love-letter succeeded the revolutionary protocol of 
 " Liberty or Death." The most gallant rendezvous, the most enchant- 
 ing promenades, taught the good Parisians to forget that, only a few 
 months before, there existed among them such things as clubs, meetings 
 at Clichy, at Meot's, &c. Every one reclaimed his old character ; men 
 were the wiser for the past ; wives more happy ; and the health and 
 education of children more carefully guarded. 
 
 (60) Page 133. 
 
 " There were, at this epoch, those who had lost, with their ancient 
 I'dat in society, that accursed fortune which is so much sighed after. 
 Deprived of the necessaries of life, they were forced to resort to means 
 for which they felt a repugnance ; and to cap the climax of misery, they 
 had neither understanding nor firmness enough to endure their fall with 
 moderation. 
 
 " Tallien and you, Madame Cabarres, outdid yourselves in those 
 calamitous times. You protected the widow and orphan ; you snatched 
 from the hand of the executioner the sword of Damocles, which 
 threatened to decimate the people of France ; and your acts of kindness, 
 bestowed with judgment and kindness upon many honourable victims of 
 proscription, will fojm the basis of that brilliant eulogy which posterity 
 will pronounce upon you." 
 
 (6i) Piige 136. 
 
 Sundry projects were presented to Bonaparte, which had once been 
 submitted to the Directory, and to the different committees. It was 
 proposed to raise La Vendee from the ruins under which she lay buried. 
 Plans of several new cities were submitted to the First Consul. It was 
 proposed not only to furnish building materials, but to guarantee the 
 payment of the work ; and the labourers employed were to be taken from 
 the privileged class. Instead of retaining them as prisoners, it was 
 proposed to distribute among them the necessary implements for their 
 new occupation. A duke was to become a mason, a painter or a 
 sculptor ; madame the marchioness was to keep the liquor shop for 
 the labourers, or to work at the spindle. All parties would have been 
 represented there— all sects, patriots, aristocrats, moderates, revolu- 
 tionists, priests, sworn and unsworn, nuns turned out of one cloister, 
 and again shut up as in another. All these unfortunates, in exile 
 although in the bosom of their country, would have been confined
 
 326 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and subjected to the most rigorous surveillance. That unhappy 
 country would have presented, in full size, the miniature of the 
 Cevennes under Louis XIV. Each prisoner was to receive his daily 
 rations, and premiums were to be awarded to such as should excel in 
 labour or ingenuity. All were to be employed in the various establish- 
 ments, and at the end of ten years, the limit fixed for the completion 
 of all the works and for putting the manufactoiies into full operation, 
 those of the colonists who should remain (marriages were to be pro- 
 hibited among them) were to receive the quality of regenerated Frenclimen, 
 and being henceforth treated as such, they were to become free in the 
 eyes of the law, and to receive from the Government a homestead 
 worth 1500 francs annually. They were, however, to remain during the 
 two lustrums under the immediate surveillance of managers selected by 
 the Jacobins of the old stamp, who would be able, in time of need, to 
 convert them into soldiers for the numerous garrisons in those parts. 
 Thus, said the authors of this singular scheme, we shall see new towns 
 of an improved construction spring up on all sides ; workshops will lend 
 new activity to business ; uncultivated lands will be reclaimed and 
 planted ; swamps will be drained — and all this will be the work of those 
 suspicious persons who once hoped to work amidst the ruins of the land 
 that gave them birth. Bonaparte did not approve of this rigorous 
 policy. " I want no hostages," said he. " My actual strength shall 
 be my power. If the nobles and the priests conduct themselves well, 
 I shall protect them, and seek to repair the ills they have suffered ; if 
 they conspire against me, I will cut their heads off — or some strong 
 citadel shall be responsible for them. When I want to build towns, 
 I shall find workmen enough ; and when I need their services, I shall 
 make my generals so many Epaminondases." Bonaparte deceived 
 himself. 
 
 (62) Page 138. 
 
 General Bonaparte was passionately fond of the military profession ; 
 but the love of glory did not harden his heart against the irreparable 
 evils which result from the greatest victories. Often, after describing a 
 battle he would trace the plan of a farm ; from the map of the theatre 
 of war he would pass to the topographical plan of the capital, and 
 consult me as to the improvements which ought to be undertaken. 
 The habits of the camp by no means destroyed his love of the fine 
 arts and of agriculture. Napoleon was extreme in everything. — Note 
 BY Josephine, 
 
 (63) Page 141. 
 
 As has been seen, Bonaparte was quite anxious that a divorce might 
 take place between Madame Tallien and her husband. There was a 
 moment when, the parties having had a slight falling out, such a pro- 
 position might have been made. Tallien adored his wife, and could not
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 327 
 
 endure the thought of being separated from her. He fell sick, and the 
 \ery day when Bonaparte supposed he had overcome all obstacles, and 
 was about to receive a favourable answer, he found the pretty Spanish 
 woman at the bedside of her convalescent husband. She was holding 
 in her arms her beautiful boy, whom she presented to her husband, and 
 then showed with pride to the general, saying, " Do you think, citizen, 
 it would be easy for a mother to forsake the father of such a babe as 
 this ^ " Bonaparte took it for granted, from the reception given him 
 by his fortunate rival, that his secret was out. " She is an indiscreet 
 woman," said he, speaking of Madame TaUien ; " I only wanted to test 
 her fidelity. She takes me for a Renaud — she is egregiously mistaken — 
 never shall she be my Armide. Let her attend to her household affairs ; 
 'twere better, perhaps, for both that the matter had remained within 
 doors." But he could scarcely conceal the mortification the incident 
 occasioned him. He was long sour towards her. 
 
 (64) Page 143. 
 
 Madame Beauharnais was intimately connected with Madame de 
 
 Chat Ren , the daughter of Madame de L , her early friend. 
 
 This charming and witty woman then attracted to her house the best 
 society of the capital. It was the resort of the most conspicuous persons. 
 Barras presented Bonaparte to her, and begged her to admit him into 
 the circle of her friends. The director was then trying to recover a 
 plan of the campaign which Bonaparte had prepared for the conquest 
 of Italy, and which the famous Carnot got possession of. The first time 
 Madame Beauharnais saw Bonaparte, the impression she received was 
 not at all to his advantage. She uttered some shrewd jokes at his ex- 
 pense. Nor was Madame Fontenay prepossessed in his favour, though 
 
 the intelligent Madame Chat Ren discovered something in the 
 
 looks of the young Corsican, indicating an extraordinary man. " What 
 think you," said Barras, "of my protege? What think you of him ? " 
 "Well," said she, " I think he will make a figure in the world." The 
 
 Marquis de Mailli frequented the house of Madame Chat Ren . 
 
 One day when Madame Fontenay (who had married TaUien), Madame 
 Beauharnais, Bonaparte, a iMademoiselle Vanem, and others, were 
 together, the conversation turned upon somnambulism, and the 
 young damsel was produced by way of trying experiments. She 
 said some singular things, and, among others, told Bonaparte that 
 he would become the conqueror of Italy. From this time he took a 
 great liking to somnambulism. He so gave himself up to this interest- 
 ing illusion, that, whenever he visited at Madame Chat Ren 's, 
 
 he took pleasure in putting questions to Mademoiselle Vanem. He 
 often saw Madame Beauharnais at this place ; he fell in love with her, 
 and avowed the fact to her ; and his exile from the house was the
 
 328 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 consequence. Barras, who wanted to benefit the young man, begged 
 
 Madame Chat Ren to assume the office of mediatrix in this 
 
 grand affair ; but Josephine really loved General Hoche, and preferred 
 him to the hero of Vendemiaire. "If," said he to the interesting 
 
 Madame Chat Ren , " if you were free, I should certainly cast 
 
 my eyes upon you ; I would, if it were necessary, overturn the whole 
 world for the honour of having you for a wife. You may, however, 
 fulfil my wish in part ; just enable me to obtain the hand of your friend 
 Josephine, and I shall be the happiest of men." Madame Beauharnais 
 long rejected the proposal. The friends, however, contrived to intercept 
 the correspondence of the lovers for a month, and Josephine, piqued 
 at seeing herself neglected, finally consented to accept the hand of 
 Bonaparte. The latter immediately returned to Barras the plan of the 
 Italian campaign, and added these remarkable words : " Behold the 
 presage of numerous victories ; as for myself, I need but one of them, 
 and that is the heart of Madame Beauharnais, and I have gained it." 
 The marriage remained secret for several days. Bonaparte imme- 
 diately set out for Italy, leaving his wife in Paris. She for some time, 
 in the presence of her friends, dissembled the fact of her marriage, 
 unwilHng to confess that she had contracted indissoluble ties with the 
 " little Bonaparte," as she used to call him. 
 
 (65) Page 144. 
 
 The hotel owned by Bonaparte, Rue Chantereine, had belonged to 
 Julie, the former wife of Tallien. That lady, wretched at finding the 
 man she loved an ingrate, seeing her inability to entice back the most 
 inconstant of men (who, nevertheless, paid her frequent visits), resolved 
 to make a last effort upon his affections. Before giving herself up 
 entirely to despair, she sent him an invitation to breakfast with her the 
 next morning. He refused, under some vain pretext, but really intended 
 to go and take her by surprise. Learning that he had thus, as she 
 thought, shunned her again, she was so distracted with grief that she 
 took poison, which she had long since been keeping for that purpose. 
 Tallien arrived punctually at the hour, and, at the moment when he 
 expected to press poor Julie to his heart, he saw her cold and lifeless 
 remains deposited in a coffin which stood in his way. The unhappy 
 husband uttered a cry of agony and fell down senseless. He was with 
 difficulty restored to his senses, but his reason was for a moment 
 shaken. He wept for poor Julie ; perhaps he still mourns for her. A 
 most inconstant husband was melted to pity, and he who was supposed 
 to be insensible showed then that he knew how to love. He rendered 
 the last sad honours to his wife, and henceforth, whenever he spoke of 
 that woman, so interesting for the heroism of her attachment, it was 
 with sentiments of affection and respect. 
 
 I
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 329 
 
 When, on Bonaparte's return from Italy, Tallien came to visit at 
 his house, Josephine would often say to him, with a mournful accent, 
 " This chamber once belonged to an unhappy woman." TaUien affected 
 to be a stranger to the remark ; but more than once did the tears start 
 to his eyes. "I was," said Josephine, "anxious to satisfy myself 
 whether this man was capable of cherishing a tender reollection. I had 
 supposed his heart was estranged from all such feelings, and that the 
 society of ladies was for him an agreeable recreation. But the visible 
 emotion which he manifested whenever the name of Julie was pro- 
 nounced in his presence, proved to me conclusively that, far from 
 being cold and insensible, he was, beyond many other men, capable 
 of a rare devotion and of a gratitude above temptation." — Note 
 communicated. 
 
 (66) Page 144. 
 
 The first battle which Bonaparte personally directed, was that at 
 the Bridge of Lodi. He showed great personal courage, and was 
 promptly seconded by Lannes, who passed the bridge before him. At 
 the battle of Arcole, the courage of Augereau was decisive. Catching a 
 standard from the hands of the ensign who carried it, he shouted out, 
 "Let every brave man follow me!" In these two battles more than 
 20,000 Poles, who were in the Austrian ranks, laid down their arms. 
 They were immediately enrolled in the French army and formed into 
 a legion, the command of which was given to the Polish general, 
 Dombrowsky, attached to Bonaparte's staff. The latter now marched 
 against Modena. The Prince of Modena, though not at war with 
 France, was obliged to pay a contribution in order to save his estates 
 from pillage. 
 
 The French head-quarters were established in the ducal palace, the 
 duke himself having fled. 
 
 Next, the victorious general attacked the Austrians, and won the 
 battle of Reveredo. The Treaty of Scoben followed, and Bonaparte 
 sent General Clarke to Vienna, to continue negotiations. Under the 
 treaty, Venice was handed over to Austria, and the general received a 
 douceui' of 8,000,000 francs. He returned to Paris with 25,000,000 francs. 
 
 (67) Page 145. 
 
 While Madame Bonaparte was in Italy, fetes and pleasures of every 
 kind followed each other in rapid succession. She visited, successively, 
 Leghorn and Florence, though her customary residence was at Milan. 
 One day, while she was standing by one of the windows of the chateau 
 of Placenza, she noticed several men and women of a singular and 
 grotesque appearance passing along. They were quite small, with 
 large heads, great eyes, short and ill-formed statures, and crooked legs. 
 She remarked that this must be a choleric, evil-minded race, and that
 
 330 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 it was surprising that such persons should be permitted to marry. A 
 certain Milanese lord, who happened to be standing by, called her 
 particular attention to one of those hideous-looking creatures, who 
 pretended to be accompanied by a familiar spirit, subject to her 
 orders. His lordship then remarked, in reply to Josephine, "That is 
 a keen-sighted sprite, but of a character utterly unquiet and bizarre ; 
 the woman makes use of her knowledge, or of chance itself, as the case 
 may be, to disseminate the most extravagant ideas. The Government 
 tolerates her, because she exercises a great influence over the class of 
 persons who are the most ready to get up a rebellion. Hold! " said he 
 
 to Madame de Camb , " she seems to fix her attention particularly 
 
 upon you." The " Sorceress of the Alps " (for thus she was called), on 
 seeing the company standing on the balcony, and Madame Bonaparte 
 among them, cried out, " Retire instantly — a great evil threatens you ! " 
 And, indeed, at about the same moment, an arch, which sustained a 
 kind of exterior terrace, gave way, and several persons were pre- 
 cipitated and dangerously wounded. Fortunately, Madame Bonaparte 
 rushed to the opposite side, which still stood, but was tottering to its 
 fall. Assistance, however, arrived in time to rescue her, and the 
 ladies of her suite, from the danger. The next morning that extra- 
 ordinary woman was brought to her. Madame Bonaparte told Madame 
 
 Camb to pretend, in the presence of this stranger, that they were 
 
 both from Lucca, and had been compelled to fly their country for 
 reasons of a serious nature. All the women who remained with 
 Josephine at the time the strange woman arrived were frightened at 
 her. She had a wen which hung down to her middle, and led along 
 by the hand a little Cretin, who resembled herself. All wanted to 
 consult her : she was deaf — spoke with great difficulty — and her whole 
 appearance indicated extreme imbecility. Nevertheless, she understood 
 her part. She prepared sundry herbs, asked for some fresh eggs, and 
 drew three pails of w-ater. After mumbling o\er some barbarous words, 
 unknown to the company, she said to one of the officers, " You will be 
 killed in a battle; " to another, "You will perish with cold and hunger." 
 When she came to Madame Bonaparte, whom she intentionally 
 omitted till the last, she told her that she should one day be crowned ; 
 she then showed her, in the water-pail, that the eggs had formed them- 
 selves into fletivons, which, when they thus touched each other, were a 
 sign of royalty. "I behold two of these crowns," said she, "but you 
 will obtain but one." — "One is quite enough," said Josephine, "and 
 too much to afford me security in a republic. I am quite obliged for 
 the bauble ; offer it to the Germans." All were eager to see this fragile 
 crown ; and, on examining it attentively, it was found to be set with 
 seven clusters of diamonds. The little Cretin (a name given in the Valais 
 to a sort of dwarf, who is held to be the guardian angel of a family) 
 made a sign of approbation. The " Sorceress of the Alps " was
 
 THE I'MPRESS JOSEPHINE 33 1 
 
 ciismissed with a handsome present. On her second visit to Italy, 
 Madame Bonaparte enquired whether she was still living at Milan. 
 But she was not there. Josephine adopted a Cretin, in this way pay- 
 ing for that most singular prediction. There are many witnesses who 
 can attest this fact. The Empress related it many times to her 
 intimate friends. Without placing the least confidence in it, she often 
 said, " Three persons have predicted that I should reign ; but they did 
 not tell me that I should transmit my crown to my descendants. 
 Probably my royal qualities will not be of this world ; for the humblest 
 Frenchman leaves his inheritance to his children. As to my own, it 
 appears that their virtues must, in the end, be their most brilliant 
 appendage — that the dignities which I am to enjoy are to cease during 
 my lifetime. Yet there is something to console me, nevertheless ; it is 
 that, after I am gone, my actions may revive my memory in the hearts 
 of my friends ; and I lo\e to persuade myself that I shall leave some 
 friends behind me." 
 
 (68) Pitgc 147. 
 
 The enormous contributions levied in Italy, as the price of armis- 
 tices, or of treaties broken as soon as signed, seemed to the victorious 
 general preferable to continued war. At the commencement of the 
 Italian campaign, the soldiers of the new Hannibal were absolutely 
 in want of everything ; but after some millions had been put into 
 Bonaparte's treasury, his chief care was to provide for the wants of 
 those valiant men. Italy afforded so many resources, that the French 
 soldiers readily forgot all their fatigues and pri\ations in thinking of 
 their triumphs. This country seemed to them a Promised Land," but 
 their chief gave them no repose, and each day brought with it its com- 
 bat and its \ictory. Rome would have been conquered, had Bonaparte 
 really willed it. But he left to others those sad laurels, contenting 
 himself with executing his own mission, which, as he often said, was 
 to reap the fruit of his own labours, and to gain partisans in the 
 countries he was conquering in the name of the French Republic. He 
 was willing to profit by the spoils of nations, but his real object was 
 to enrich his own country with the master-works and monuments of 
 art which he found among the vanquished, and thus to win a reputation 
 for moderatism which might afterwards open the way for the accom- 
 plishment of his vast designs. 
 
 (69) Page 149. 
 
 We will explain the organisation of the Cispadane and the Cisalpine 
 Republics. To the first, the General-in-chief of the army of Italy 
 
 I It was so in rcalitv. — Translator.
 
 332 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 united Romagna and Modena ; Reggio, Messa and Carrara to the 
 second. He also laid down the plan of the new government which he 
 had resolved to establish over the Genoese. This was done at Monte- 
 bello, in presence of the Genoese deputies. Certain of his emissaries 
 then slipped into the Valtelline, which declared itself a republic, and 
 asked for his protection. Thus, in the space of less than one year, two 
 crowns disappeared from Italy. That of Tuscany, it was plain, would 
 not be long in tumbling ; and the principality of Lucca, in its turn, was 
 compelled to submit to a second contribution, much larger than the 
 first. 
 
 Politicians should have foreseen that a war would soon break out 
 all over Italy — the more bloody on account of the civil and religious 
 discord which should feed it. They might have anticipated that 
 Europe would present a spectacle more terrible than any since the 
 commencement of the Revolution, for the French Directory set no 
 bounds to its pretensions, its pride and its menaces. 
 
 (70) Page 152. 
 
 General Paoli used all his efforts to free his country from re- 
 publican tyranny. If he could have maintained single-handed the 
 struggle against the French troops, it is probable he would have pro- 
 claimed the independence of Corsica, and, in the end, have established 
 over it a free and moderate government. But pressed on the one side 
 by the patriots, and on the other by the republican army, he saw his 
 own and his country's salvation only in the succour and protection of 
 England. Master of the port of Ajaccio, and of several strong places, 
 he delivered them to the English, and received them as liberators. 
 This revolution was hailed with enthusiasm. The Corsicans flattered 
 themselves that they should now enjoy all the benefits of the English 
 Constitution ; and, perhaps. Paoli himself entertained the idea that he 
 should obtain the title of viceroy. His own hopes and those of his 
 fellow-citizens were not realised. Only a small portion of the liberties 
 of England was granted to her new subjects in Corsica ; they were only 
 allowed a House of Commons, and the viceroyalty was conferred on a 
 British subject. In order to subdue the island, bloody and frequent 
 battles had to be fought. Bastia defended itself with great obstinacy ; 
 Calvi was reduced to ashes ; and the English rendered themselves so 
 hateful to the people by their exactions, their avarice, and their pride of 
 dominion, that the most determined enemies of the French Republic, 
 in the end, regretted their old masters. — Manoircs pour scrvir a riiistoire. 
 
 (71) Page 153. 
 
 The name of this adventurer was Theodore New-Hoffen. He was 
 the son of a Westphalian baron who settled in France. In his youth 
 he had been page to the Duchess of Orleans ; he afterwards retired into
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 333 
 
 Sweden, then into Spain, and then into Italy. He was a man of an 
 ardent imagination, almost bordering on insanity, and his head was 
 every day filled with some new project. He made a voyage to Tunis, 
 and persuaded the bey that if he would give him a vessel with ten guns, 
 4,000 muskets, a little money and ammunition, he could make him 
 master of the island of Corsica. The bey, in the simplicity of his heart, 
 listened to the proposal. Theodore embarked for Leghorn, where he 
 met with a few Corsicans, and told them that if they would recognise 
 him as their King, he would deliver the island, and ensure them the 
 assistance of the European Powers. 
 
 The wildest ideas are almost always sure to succeed in revolutions. 
 The proposal of the Westphalian baron was accepted. In the month of 
 March, 1735, he landed at the port of Aleri, clad in a long scarlet robe, 
 lined with fur, wearing on his head an extensive perruque and a 
 cocked hat with a broad brim, a long Spanish sword by his side, and 
 a cane in his hand with a crow's-beak handle, which served him as a 
 sceptre. He also brought with him 200 fusils, the same number of 
 pistols, certain sabres, a modicum of shoes, very little cash, but an 
 abundance of promises. 
 
 The Corsicans hailed him as their Liberator, and, in an assembly 
 held on the 15th of April, 1736, he was elected and proclaimed King. A 
 new Constitution was drawn up, which the new monarch swore to sup- 
 port. The ceremony of his coronation took place in one of the churches 
 of the Franciscans, and, as there was no crown of gold to give him, his 
 subjects contented themselves with giving him one of laurels. 
 
 Theodore's first care was to form a Court, raise a regiment of guards, 
 and create counts, barons and marquises. Giafferi and Paoli (the father 
 of the one above mentioned by that name) received the title of " Your 
 Excellency." Coin of silver and copper was struck, bearing the likeness 
 of the new sovereign, who, to make a trial of his power, had a couple of 
 Corsicans hanged for fighting a duel. In the first moments of enthu- 
 siasm, he assembled together a considerable number of troops, and 
 obtained some advantages over the Genoese. He never approached 
 the shore of his dominions without being armed with a huge spy-glass, 
 which he would bring to his face as if expecting to discover at sea the 
 succour which he was to receive from the leading Powers of Europe, to 
 whose Cabinets he pretended he was daily despatching the most im- 
 portant diplomatic papers. He received couriers without number, and 
 obtained from them the most satisfactory accounts of the state of his 
 negotiations. This comedy lasted for eight months. The Genoese, 
 getting alarmed, set a price upon his head ; but their fright was of short 
 duration. The monarch began to be pinched for money, and the public 
 enthusiasm diminished with his finances. To avoid more serious con- 
 sequences, he concluded to quit his estates and go in person to accelerate 
 the supplies which he expected. Arrived at Amsterdam, one of his
 
 334 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 creditors threw him into jail. But sustaining this trifling reverse with 
 the dignity of a King, he opened, and conducted with great ability, a 
 negotiation with a Jew, and obtained from a mercantile house the sum 
 of five millions, with which he paid his debts, and laded a vessel with 
 arms, powder, and all sorts of military stores. The Jews now flattered 
 themselves that they should monopolise the commerce of the island, 
 and Theodore did not doubt but that, on his arrival home, all the 
 Corsicans would range themselves under his banner. Both the Jews 
 and himself were deceived. He was not able to land in his estates. He 
 was arrested at Naples, and fled to London, where, having contracted 
 new debts, he was again thrown into prison. Here he must have died 
 in jail, had not the singularity of his adventures awakened an interest 
 in his behalf. Sir Horace Walpole could not bear to see a King dying 
 in chains, and proposed to get up a subscription on his account. The 
 amount was soon raised ; his Corsican Majesty was liberated ; but soon 
 after, in December, 1746, died in misery and chagrin. He was interred 
 in the church of St. Anne in Westminster, with the following inscription 
 upon his tombstone: — 
 
 " Fate poured its lesson on his living head, 
 Bestowed a kingdom, and denied him bread." 
 
 — Mi-moircs pour serrir a rhistoire. 
 (72) Page 159. 
 
 Josephine always wanted to follow Bonaparte in his campaigns. Re- 
 fuse her as he might, he could not convince her that the only effect was 
 to expose herself to danger without glory. It was rare that she did not 
 share some of his danger. In order, however, to disgust her with it, he 
 once placed her in front of the enemy's battery, where she heard the 
 cannon roaring in her ears and the balls falling at her feet. When the 
 general passed along the lines, or climbed up the breast-work to recon- 
 noitre the enemy's position, Madame Bonaparte, unaccustomed to 
 walk a pavement slippery with human gore, stopped short and fell. He 
 laughed at her. "This is war, madam," said he, standing at a con- 
 siderable distance ; " courage, madam, courage ! laurels are not won on 
 beds of down. To be worthy of me, you must attend to the sick and 
 dress their wounds with your own hands ; you must set }Our women to 
 scraping lint." 
 
 On another occasion, he had led her on further than usual (for he 
 commonly left her in the last frontier town) ; a shell burst near where 
 she was standing, and struck a number of persons. She uttered a 
 piercing cry, and, disengaging herself from Bonaparte, who held her by 
 the arm, was about to fly, but he held her by main strength. "You 
 will never," said he, seriously, " be a Jeanne Hachette. A ball frightens 
 you." — "If," said she, with gravity, "it should be necessary to defend 
 my fireside, I should immediately imitate the example of Clisson's
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 335 
 
 sister, who fought against the English ; but, my dear, you are now tor- 
 menting peaceable persons for the sport of winning a great reputation. 
 For my part, I have neither a rehsh nor courage for that." Josephine 
 was so overcome at the sight of the blood, which flowed from those 
 who were injured by the shot, that she fainted ; she looked imploringly 
 to Bonaparte, and saw he was deeply moved. He did not leave her until 
 every aid in his power had been rendered her. He then committed her 
 to the care of those who were about her, ordered the wounded to be 
 taken care of, and swore that henceforth all women, and particularly 
 Josephine, should be kept at least twenty leagues from head-quarters. 
 
 (73) Pifge 159- 
 
 In the midst of the alarms created throughout Europe by the French 
 Revolution, the cardinals at Rome reflected upon the events that were 
 passing in Italy. They looked upon our soldiers as well-meaning men, 
 constrained by necessity to change their characters. The revenge 
 which the priests might have wished to inflict upon them arose more 
 from fear than from a determination to resist. Their conduct betrayed 
 weakness. The most of them fled to Naples and other places ; they 
 trembled at the approach of the French, while the leaders of the party 
 attached to French principles were formidable to none except those 
 whose avarice rendered them imprudent. 
 
 Bonaparte thought that, by using other means, he could inspire other 
 sentiments. He resolved to hazard an experiment, and began by ob- 
 taining from the Pope a declaration that all the nobility of the Eccle- 
 siastical States should give up their plate. All vagabonds were driven 
 from the Roman territory, and it was enjoined upon all convents, all 
 churches, all monts-dc-pitie, to furnish, within five days, an inventory of 
 the wealth they possessed. He then demanded several legations, and 
 manifested a desire that the wealth of the state should be placed at his 
 disposal ; further still, he wanted indulgences to be issued, and that the 
 Tc Deuin should be sung in honour of this happy event. On these con- 
 ditions he promised the most perfect security to Rome, and was to take 
 the French emigrants under his protection. 
 
 The general displayed as much of suppleness and complaisance in 
 his negotiations with the cardinals as he had of haughtiness in his nego- 
 tiations with the representatives of Kings. He spoke to them with an air 
 of kindness, mourned with them over the calamities which menaced the 
 estates of the Church, and admired the unshrinking fortitude of the 
 head of the Church, under circumstances so trying. Seeking to render 
 himself useful by tendering his kind offices, and amiable by demonstra- 
 tions of attachment to the Holy See, he was listened to with respect, 
 and finally regarded as a godly man. He foresaw that Pope Pius VI. 
 would not be long in sinking under the outrages inflicted upon him, and 
 took it for granted that he should be able to control the new conclave.
 
 336 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 "If," said he to his most intimate friends, " I can put the tiara on the 
 brows of Chiaramonti, I shall necessarily make him my friend. I shall 
 give him such a direction as I please. I want help in order to arrive at 
 the point I aim at, and I have told Immola, who must succeed in the 
 apostolic line. He will have it in his power, if he pleases, to avert the 
 storm which has long threatened the capital of the Christian world. 
 'Tis to Paris — in my palace — that he will one day come in order to 
 obtain from me positive instructions respecting the means of preserving 
 himself there. The pontifical throne will resist the shock only so far as 
 I will it, and it will be in the power of the new Pope to confirm, by his 
 good conduct towards me, my friendship for him. But my vengeance, 
 should he adopt a line of conduct opposed to my own, will be terrible to 
 him, and place him by force among the number of holy confessors." 
 
 At this period Bonaparte seemed to foresee that the humiliation and 
 the good of the Church would prescribe to the new pontiff duties 
 of which he might, perhaps, see occasion to repent. Napoleon long 
 caressed the idea that the Holy Apostolic See would one day be estab- 
 lished in France, and that the Roman states would form a part of the 
 latter country. — Note by Josephine. 
 
 (74). Page 160. 
 
 When Notre-Dame de Loretto was broken into, Bonaparte carried 
 off its wealth, contenting himself to send the Madonna to the executive 
 Directory. On the day of its arrival in Paris, Barras gave a great dinner. 
 The black virgin was set upon the table, and the director said, laughing, 
 " Bonaparte has done well to send us the miraculous statue, but he has 
 taken good care to retain her clothing." Messena replied, " You would 
 be astonished, indeed, gentlemen, if the Madonna should, on the 
 instant, escape from your hands and return to Loretto." 
 
 The directors indulged themselves in various pleasantries over the 
 account given of the general ; but it was easy to perceive that the}- 
 already stood in fear of him. " I understand the character of Bona- 
 parte," said Barras ; " I have studied it. What he wills he wills, and he 
 will, perhaps, one day will to subject us to his authority, and, following 
 the example of Cromwell, say to us : ' Ye are no longer directors ! do ye 
 hear? I tell you, ye are no longer directors ; fie, fie, for shame ! — retire; 
 give place to others. The Lord hath chosen other instruments.' Then 
 will he, with his soldiers, drive us pell-mell before him, shut the doors of 
 the Luxembourg, and deposit the keys in the Tuileries, and give them 
 afterwards to a Conservative senate, who will not have the talents to 
 conserve themselves." 
 
 (75) P"g<^ 161. 
 
 Cardinal Mattel understood the character of Bonaparte better than 
 anv other man. He had, on an occasion of great peril to himself,
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 33- 
 
 skilfully checked the torrent of his anger. The cardinal was at 
 Ferrara at the time the French, without a previous declaration of war, 
 entered that city. Bonaparte arrived at that prelate's palace, attacked 
 him with a shower of reproaches, and threatened to shoot him on 
 the spot. The cardinal, without showing any symptoms of intimida- 
 tion, and opposing to the general's wrath nothing but kindness and 
 resignation, asked, in a calm tone, only a quarter of an hour to 
 prepare for death. The self-possession, the dignity of the prelate, 
 the virtues that gleamed in his looks, disconcerted the unpitying 
 general. 
 
 The life of Cardinal Mattel was spared, and, in a few minutes 
 afterwards, a friendly conversation ensued between them. "Why," 
 said the cardinal, " wage this war on the Holy See, who is at war 
 with nobody? What crime can be charged against it ? " 
 
 "What would you?" replied the general. "I am e.xercising the 
 right of the strongest, and cannot conceal from you that I am not with- 
 out my anxieties for Rome herself." 
 
 Cardinal Mattel, in communicating the news of the treaty of peace 
 to Cardinal Bosca, secretary of state, wrote as follows : — 
 
 " The treaty is signed ; I send a courier to carry the news to your 
 Eminence. The conditions are hard, indeed ; and, in every respect, 
 very like the capitulation of a besieged city — so the conqueror often 
 expressed himself. My heart palpitated ; I trembled, and tremble 
 still, for his Holiness, for Rome, and for the whole of the papal 
 possessions. Rome, however, is saved, as well as the Catholic reli- 
 gion, notwithstanding the great sacrifices which have been made." 
 —Mcmoires pour servir a Vhistoire. 
 
 (76) Page 161. 
 
 " Peace between the French Republic and your Holiness has been 
 signed. I congratulate myself in having been able to restore your 
 Holiness's tranquillity. I venture to ask your Holiness to distrust 
 certain persons now at Rome, who are sold to Courts hostile to France ; 
 or who give themselves up to the guidance of the passion of hatred, 
 which always draws down ruin upon a state. All Europe is aware 
 of the pacific intentions of your Holiness ; the French Republic will, 
 I hope, be one of the most sincere friends of Rome. I send my 
 aide-de-camp, chief of brigade, to express to your Holiness my perfect 
 esteem and veneration for your person ; and I pray you to believe me 
 animated with a desire to give you, on all occasions, proofs of respect 
 and veneration. 
 
 " Bonaparte, 
 "General-in-Chief of the Army of Italy." 
 
 VOL. I 22
 
 338 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (77) Page 161. 
 
 When Bonaparte was preparing for his triumphant entry into the 
 capital of the Roman Empire, he feU secretly touched with remorse 
 for having persecuted with so much vehemence an old man who, by 
 his virtues, deserved a better fate. Whether his native penetration 
 enabled him to foresee that the sovereign pontiff would one day elevate 
 him to the high rank of the "eldest son of the Church," or that the 
 counsels given him by his wife recurred to his mind, he appeared 
 struck, as with a ray of light, at the moment he transmitted to his 
 government the treaty of peace which he had concluded with the 
 Pope's envoys. The General-in-chief of the army of Italy from this 
 time grew cold towards the " one and indivisible repubHc," and began 
 to think more favourably of monarchy. 
 
 However the case may have been, he confined himself, for the 
 present, to the establishment of peace with the Holy See. The un- 
 happy Pius VI. was, at first, thunderstruck at the hardihood of the 
 French general. It seemed to him impossible that a youthful warrior, 
 thirsting for glory and devoured by ambition, should possess enough 
 generosity and greatness of soul to respect an aged sovereign, now 
 falling from power, and his soldiers, who were ready faithfully to 
 execute his orders. And, in his council, the Holy Father could not 
 forbear to repeat: "Since untoward circumstances have subjected us 
 to the French yoke, we must make a virtue of necessity ; let us 
 support it with courage, and not lose time in uttering useless regrets. 
 As long as I enjoyed my liberty, I defended it with all the means 
 which God had placed in my power; now that He afflicts me, I must 
 endure with patience the heavenly rod. Let us, therefore, be re- 
 signed." 
 
 Thus did this new martyr of the faith bow his august head under 
 the weight of adversity. It was thus that, in the last moments of 
 his exile, he exclaimed, in sadness and sorrow, and when about to 
 enter upon a happier life, "There is no people u'ho have not their period 
 of disgraee as loell as of glory." 
 
 (78) Page 161. 
 
 The General-in-chief of the army of Italy, in collecting together 
 for the republic the objects of curiosity which Colli, the Pope's general, 
 had not time to carry away from Loretto, found certain portable 
 articles which were used for the purpose of imposing upon the public 
 credulity, and which consisted of : — 
 
 1. A pretended miraculous wooden image of the Madonna. 
 
 2. A piece of an old camel's-hair robe, which was said to have been 
 worn by the Virgin Mary.
 
 THE EMPRESS jOSEPHINH 339 
 
 3. Three cracked earthen porringers, of poor material, said to have 
 formed a part of her household stuff. 
 
 This carrying off was effected by Citizen Villetard, in presence of 
 Citizen Monge, and Citizen Moscati, a physician of Milan. For fear 
 people might call in question the authenticity of these articles, the 
 seal of the General-in-chief was placed upon each one of them, in red 
 wax, in a style similar to that of a writ. Bonaparte afterwards re- 
 stored the statue to Pope Pius VII. ; but he sent it to him naked, 
 and never dreamed of restoring the plate and treasures he found in 
 the chapel. — Mcmoires pour semir a Fhistoire. 
 
 (79) P^g'' 163. 
 
 Bonaparte was naturally jealous. One of his aides-de-camp, Marshal 
 
 L , who was wounded at the Bridge of Lodi, gave him a faithful 
 
 account of the smallest actions of his wife. Sundry letters which she 
 had received were exposed to the general ; he pronounced them 
 criminal, although they were really but mere trifles, or utterly un- 
 important. Then commenced a misunderstanding between them which 
 gave rise to serious apprehensions on the part of Josephine. But the 
 general merely sought to frighten her. In a moment of wrath, he 
 kicked to death a pug-dog to which she was much attached. The 
 poor animal had been given her by General Hoche, of whom Bonaparte 
 was the fortunate rival. After a few days, he appeared to be ashamed 
 of his sudden impulse of rage, and, in order to repair the injury he 
 had done, caused a monument to be erected to the little victim. This 
 friendship-gift from General Hoche reposes in the gardens of Mondoza, 
 near the city of Milan. 
 
 (80) Page 163. 
 
 Bologna is a large town, but so regularly built that it seems 
 monotonous. Almost all the streets are bordered on each side with 
 pilasters and columns, which render it very commodious for foot 
 passengers, who, by that means, are protected from bad weather. 
 Hence few carriages are seen in the streets ; and, for the same reason, 
 the shops and rez-de-chaxisscc are quite dark. It is not pleasant for 
 strangers, who look in vain for houses and see nothing but arcades. 
 The cathedral is a magnificent building, in the Gothic style. Its 
 handsomest ornament is the meridian, traced by the celebrated Cassini 
 in 1680, and reaching 178 feet. The skull of St. Petronius was exhibited 
 to Bonaparte and to his wife. It is kept locked up under three locks, 
 the keys of which are entrusted to the most aged senator, to the dean 
 of the chapter and to the eldest of the family of the Aldrovandi. 
 Bonaparte took in his hands this death's head. At first he was for 
 placing it among the rich curiosities which the French were daily 
 carrying off by his orders. But there was a general fright among 
 
 22 — 2
 
 340 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the clergy of Bologna. They had scattered off on a pilgrimage to 
 the Chapel of the Madonna, built upon a mountain about two miles 
 from the city, in the construction of which it was necessary to excavate 
 a steep rock. But Bonaparte only wished to frighten the devotees, 
 and preferred riches which were more substantial than the upper 
 jaw of a great saint. The principal part of the best pictures in the 
 churches of Bologna were sent off to Paris, but the relics remained, 
 save the jewels which adorned the inside and outside of the shrine, 
 which were all confiscated for the benefit of the victors. 
 
 Bonaparte was struck with the singular appearance of two towers, 
 which were so leaning that they seemed ready to fall upon the be- 
 holders. But when he was told that, according to tradition, they 
 had been built seven hundred years, he remembered that Dante had 
 done them the honour to make mention of them in his poem, and 
 designated them under the names of Asinelli and Gariscadi. They 
 then told him the story respecting them. It seems that two young 
 architects had fallen in love with a young lady, whom her father 
 promised to the one who was most skilful. One of them then built 
 an oblique tower, and the other, in order to outdo his rival, built one 
 still more inclined by its side. Bonaparte laughed heartily at the 
 strange vanity of that wealthy lord, who knew no better way to 
 display his magnificence than to build these monuments, utterly 
 useless and ridiculous ; and who, in order to attain his end, excited 
 the emulation of the two architects, resolved, however, to take back 
 his promise the moment the gigantic structures were completed. 
 
 Bologna has but few inhabitants, though you find here several 
 grand theatres. You see no such social meetings as you find in France ; 
 you receive pious invitations {invito sacro) to go and worship the image 
 of a Madonna who has cured some fever. They post up in public 
 the first Mass said by a young priest. Josephine was distressed at 
 the importunities of the prisoners, who, so to speak, were groaning 
 all around her. These unhappy wretches were seen through the iron 
 grates of the windows. They would pass through the bars little baskets 
 or hats, which they hung down by means of packthread, imploring 
 the charity of the passers-by, especially of strangers, whom they know 
 perfectly how to distinguish from others. Those who refuse to give 
 anything they cover with insults. These gloomy asylums were sur- 
 rounded by women who watch for a favourable moment to catch a 
 glance at their husbands or lovers, or to utter a word of consolation. 
 After the establishment of the viceroy's government, these abuses 
 began to disappear ; the discipline of the prisoners became more 
 salutary, and the fare more palatable. K . 
 
 (8i) Page 164. — Florence. 
 Florence, that ancient, spacious and admirable city, owes its origin
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 34I 
 
 to the legions of the bloody Sylla, who, having resided a while on the 
 banks of the Arno, left there this monument of their leisure, and 
 gave it the name of Fluentia. The famous triumvirs themselves sent 
 hither a colony. Its first laws, its first institutions proceeded from 
 those three cruel men, one of whom outdid his rivals and became the 
 master of the world he had desolated. 
 
 This flourishing town was levelled to its foundations by the bar- 
 barian Totila, but was rebuilt, repeopled and fortified 250 years 
 afterwards by Charlemagne and his descendants, and became the 
 chief town of a powerful republic, which bore in her bosom the seeds 
 of dangerous civil strifes. The rich and the poor, the nobles and the 
 plebeians, ever irreconcilable enemies, formed themselves into parties 
 under the names of " Guelphs " and " Ghibellines," Whites and 
 Blacks, a designation of mournful celebrity. 
 
 Meanwhile Florence was not to perish ; she had one firm support. 
 The family of the Medicis, who had been settled there since 1250, 
 were all-powerful. One of the Medicis, the famous Anselmo, had de- 
 fended Alexandria against all the assaults of the Emperor Frederick I. 
 But John, the son of Malatesta de Medicis, surnamed the " Standard 
 Bearer," was the man who contributed most to the elevation of his 
 family. This man, though spending his life in the midst of civil 
 feuds, thought only of the public welfare. He sought to inculcate, 
 both by precept and example, sentiments of moderation. Cosmo de 
 Medicis, who afterwards won the glorious surname of " Father of his 
 Country," was the worthy son of this extraordinary man. 
 
 John crowned his illustrious life by the sage counsels which he 
 gave to his two sons Cosmo and Lorenzo. He died, carrying into 
 the tomb the heartfelt regrets of all the true friends of his country. 
 He esteemed men as his brethren ; he succoured those who were in 
 need, took pity on the evil-minded, and never sought to obtain riches 
 and honours. He left behind him a spotless reputation. 
 
 Cosmo knew the value of such an inheritance ; he showed himself 
 as humane, as generous, as condescending as his father, whom he 
 surpassed in activity, in solidity of judgment and force of character. 
 His immense wealth, however, created enemies, who, by casting 
 suspicion upon his popularity, caused him to be arraigned and banished 
 for one year. But to drive a strong man into exile is always to prepare 
 for him a triumph. It resulted that, after having been everywhere 
 received with the highest marks of distinction ; after having been 
 treated, not as an exile, but as an illustrious man, by the Venetians, 
 Cosmo re-entered Florence in the midst of cries of joy and acclamation 
 hailing him as the father and benefactor of the people. 
 
 Cosmo waged no contest with intrigue, when it sought to dispute 
 his power ; and this mere indifference rendered him far more powerful 
 and more beloved. For thirty years did this wise citizen enjoy the
 
 342 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 reputation of a man of universal talents, receiving letters from every 
 prince of Europe, Asia and Africa, sustaining upon his shoulders, and 
 without effort, the burden of a turbulent republic, building churches, 
 and founding monasteries and hospitals. It was he who had the glory 
 of being the first to invite artists and men of learning to Florence. 
 In 1439, having often listened to the lectures of a Greek called 
 Gemistus, on the philosophy of Plato, he conceived the idea of founding 
 a Platonic school, and, for the purpose of establishing it, fixed upon one 
 Marsile Fici, to whom he gave a delicious retreat, with that view, at 
 Carreggio ; but this praiseworthy enterprise was not fully accomplished 
 until the time of Lorenzo the Magnificent, who completed it. 
 
 It was certainly a curious spectacle to see a simple wool-dealer 
 surrounded by a whole people, who all looked up to him for their safety, 
 their nationality and their welfare. Alas ! What cannot genius and 
 virtue achieve ? They elevate the man in the most insignificant state ; 
 they render him capable of the greatest and the sublimest efforts. 
 Cosmo died, and Florence was in mourning. His death disclosed the 
 true value of his actions. Peter, the son of Cosmo, must have felt the 
 truth of these words when, on examining his deceased father's papers, 
 he found almost every citizen in debt to him. 
 
 This son afforded little promise, being of a weak bodily disposition ; 
 though, by the aid of true friends, he made himself respectable. He 
 had to struggle against envy, and triumphed over it. Had he possessed 
 a firmer physical constitution, perhaps his fine mind would have come 
 up to the standard of his ancestors ; for he was at heart a true Medicis. 
 He died at fifty-five, leaving two sons, Lorenzo and Juliano. The latter 
 was assassinated in the horrible conspiracy of the Pazzi ; Lorenzo, who 
 had the good luck to escape, became the chief of the republic. He 
 protected the arts, encouraged talent of every description, and founded 
 an academy for painters and sculptors, which was the cradle of the 
 famous Florence school. It was Cosmo I. who, in the i6th century, 
 employed Vasar to construct that superb gallery which is now the 
 admiration of all travellers. The Grand Duke Leopold did, perhaps, 
 still more, in separating the interest of his family from that of the state, 
 and declaring the gallery national property. 
 
 Lorenzo de Medicis proved himself worthy of the title of Prince of 
 the Republic by his great qualities, and especially by the noble use he 
 made of his wealth. He was, also, surnamed the Prince of the Muses, 
 in reference to the patronage he extended to men of learning. He 
 afforded protection to such persons as were compelled to fly before 
 the fury of the Turks. He collected a vast number of manuscripts, 
 established an academy, and prepared the way for that resuscitation 
 of the arts and sciences which, a few years after, shone out with so 
 much lustre at Florence. He died in 1492, leaving two sons, Peter, 
 who was exiled in 1494, and died in 1504, and John, who became Pope
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 343 
 
 under the title of Leo X , and who, by his genius and the influence he 
 exerted on the affairs of Europe, reflected so much glory upon his 
 family and his pontificate. 
 
 Pope Clement VII. contributed still more to the glory of the House 
 of Medicis, by marrying his niece, Catharine de Medicis, to the second 
 son of Francis I., who, unable to resist the repeated applications of the 
 Pontiff Alexander, a natural son of Lorenzo II. de Medicis, Duke of 
 Urbino, was declared Duke of Florence in 1531. He was assassinated 
 '" 1537- Cosmo I., belonging to a branch of the family of the Medicis, 
 succeeded him. 
 
 This prince was one of the greatest men of his age. Never had 
 philosophers or artists a more ardent patron ; he was attached to them, 
 attracted them to his Court, and contributed liberally to their support. 
 He died in 1574. 
 
 John Gaston, the seventh Grand Duke, was the last of the House 
 of Medicis. Several years before his death his estates were sold. He 
 left no successor. He died July gth, 1718. The infant, Don Carlos, 
 son of Philip V., I'iing of Spain, was designed to be Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany, as being the nearest of kin on the side of liis mother Farnese. 
 In 1732, he succeeded in persuading the Florentines to swear fealty to 
 him ; but on becoming master of the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily, 
 the possession whereof was guaranteed to him by the treaty of peace 
 of 1736, he renounced all right to Tuscany, in favour of Francis, Duke 
 of Lorraine, afterwards Emperor, to whom Tuscany was ceded as an 
 equivalent for the duchy of Lorraine, which he gave up to France. 
 
 The Medicis reigned for 200 years ; and although the Florentines 
 could not but remember the loss of their liberties, they could not but 
 love and be attached to them. Rent by continual factions, the republic 
 stood in need of zealous defenders who could shield her from the 
 attempts of faction. And had that illustrious house, who ever seemed 
 to understand the public wants better than anybody else, and were 
 fully able to defend the state, been content to be its protectors, and to 
 leave to their country the title of a republic, with the liberties which 
 pertain to that title — a thing they might have done without lessening in 
 any degree their power over it — they would have been still more 
 illustrious. 
 
 In parting with their liberties, the Florentines received for their 
 masters princes who aimed at nothing but the public good. Their 
 rulers had the address to govern them as much by their acts of kind- 
 ness as by the splendour of their fortune, and the energy of their 
 authority. The Medicis had the art to cover with flowers the chains 
 they imposed upon their country. They patronised the fine arts, and, 
 in so doing, elevated the artist to a level with themselves, and made 
 him instrumental in extending their own popularity and fame. It 
 is to their taste for the arts and sciences that we owe that splendid
 
 344 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 collection of curiosities which is now contained in the gallery of 
 Florence. 
 
 "The situation of the city is magnificent; it is surrounded on all 
 sides by mountains and hills, covered with villages, country seats, 
 groves of olives, and fruit trees of every description. It was the birth- 
 place of Michael Angelo, where he spent a part of his days, and where 
 his patriotic hand gave the finishing touch to one-half of the palaces, 
 temples, and monuments which adorn it. That hand has everywhere 
 left its impress — an impress which even the hand of Time itself has not 
 as yet been able to efface." — Origin of Florence. 
 
 (82) Page 164. 
 
 The sight of this famous hospice, consecrated to the relief of the lost 
 or distressed traveller, made a deep impression upon the sensitive heart 
 of Josephine. She was impatient to pay a visit to the retreat of the men 
 who had thus devoted themselves to the offices of humanity. 
 
 The General-in-chief was received by them with marks of distinction, 
 and his officers were treated with simple but true hospitality. 
 
 The abbe soon made his appearance, with countenance expressive of 
 a noble Christian resignation. His features were after the Grecian 
 model, with black eyes full of fire, and rendered the more expressive by 
 the paleness of his cheeks, which lent him an air of austerity. 
 
 Josephine attentively surveyed the head of the cenobite, worthy of 
 the pencil of Raphael ; and, seeing him clad in a black gown, similar to 
 those worn by the city priests, which exhibited his person at a dis- 
 advantage, she asked him why he did not wear the long white robe 
 which was in use among the followers of Rancius, and so much admired 
 for its elegant simplicity. He replied : 
 
 " Madam, we have dispensed with that as inconvenient in the dis- 
 charge of our present duties. Obliged at all seasons, and all hours, to 
 afford aid to travellers wandering upon these mountains, among chasms 
 and avalanches, this simple black robe is much more adapted to our 
 present functions than the one you mention, both as to form and 
 colour." 
 
 Bonaparte then addressed him some questions respecting the internal 
 and external government of the hospital, which were answered by the 
 monk in a clear and precise manner. " Your words," said he, " pro- 
 claim your love of humanity. As to us, general, we have doomed 
 ourselves to live in solitude, but our prayers for our fellow-creatures are 
 not confined to its gloomy limits ; they know no bounds ; they will 
 accompany you wherever you may go." 
 
 Josephine noticed, upon the chimney-piece in the stranger's apart- 
 ment, a beautifully-wrought image of the Virgin, which she much 
 admired. Bonaparte asked the price of it. "Alas!" said the abbe, 
 with some hesitation, "it is all we were able to save from an ancient
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 345 
 
 asylum in France ; I am attached to that article, sir, as to the last 
 particle of the wreck which remains to us." The conqueror was moved ; 
 be bowed to the monk, and gave him three times the value of the image. 
 He then enquired respecting the wants of the establishment, and said to 
 the pious man, " Father, never, during my life, shall this image be 
 removed from your house." The abbe replied by a gesture expressive 
 of admiration and gratitude, and accepted the gift — an evidence of 
 French honour. "I have," continued the hermit, "uttered a prayer 
 that the chief of this valiant army may yet repose in the shade of 
 Vallombrosa, in that part of the desert where neither tree nor bird can 
 subsist, but where the traveller sometimes, for his comfort or relief, 
 finds the productions of the two worlds." 
 
 (83) Page 165. 
 
 Bonaparte laid heavy taxes upon the principal Italian families ; not 
 that he entertained direct designs upon their property, but because he 
 wished to compel them to apply to him. He gave them to understand 
 that they must address themselves to his wife. Josephine would make 
 them fair promises, but afterwards tell them, with affected sadness, that 
 the general uvuhi not consent to it. The consequence was that they would 
 entreat her to redouble her efforts with him, and the confidence they 
 thus bestowed upon her enabled her to penetrate all their secrets. She, 
 finally, in this way, succeeded in obtaining from them all the archives of 
 the state, which, on the entrance of the French army into their territory, 
 they had made away with and put out of sight. Bonaparte thus found 
 himself possessed of all the documents necessary to carry on his ad- 
 ministration. In public, however, he disapproved of the favour which 
 Josephine showed to the Italian nobility. " They will," said he to his 
 generals, " obtain nothing from me. I have no favours to show to the 
 great ; their fortunes shall answer for their submission." But to 
 Josephine he held a very different language. Their policy was known 
 only to themselves. Thus did Josephine manage for him the conquest 
 ot Italy ; and it is not improbable that, without her aid, he would never 
 have adorned his brow with a triple diadem. For a moment he debated 
 with himself whether he should seat her upon the new throne ; but she 
 was universally adored in the newly-acquired provinces, and Bonaparte, 
 naturally suspicious, was a little afraid of her popularity. He wanted to 
 put an end to the Cisalpine Republic, and reign alone. Wishing to pay 
 a compliment to the best of mothers, he summoned Eugene, her son, to 
 come and share with him his immense power. The latter obeyed, and 
 became Viceroy of Italy. 
 
 (84) Page 167. 
 
 Hortense Eugenie de Beauharnais was endowed with rare qualities. 
 She was humane, charitable, and ever ready to oblige. Her temper
 
 346 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was quiet and noiseless, and her character such as necessarily to be 
 easily governed. Yet she loved to be independent, and her soul was 
 restless under oppression. She clung with tenacity to the habits she 
 had once formed, and easily returned to her early impressions. Her 
 early education was entrusted to Madame Campan, who had charge of 
 the famous boarding-school at St. Germain-en-Laye. She was here 
 noted for her aptness and promptness in the discharge of all her duties, 
 and her amiability towards the friends around her. She was, however, 
 slow to become attached to her mother's second husband, and when she 
 was told of his frequent victories in Italy, she would coldly reply, 
 " There is one of them for which I cannot pardon him, and that is, his 
 carrying off my mamma." However, she at length gave up her early 
 repugnance to her step-father, on account of the man who was to 
 exercise so decisive an influence upon their common destiny. She 
 imitated him in the study of whatever was noble or sublime, and 
 endeavoured to perfect herself in the fine arts, and especially painting, 
 in which she attained a high degree of skill and perfection. 
 
 Whenever Madame Bonaparte happened to be absent for the day, 
 Hortense did the honours of the saloon, and at her step-father's 
 table. She passed her vacations with her aunt, the Marchioness de 
 Beauharnais,' but remained at the boarding-school of Madame Campan 
 until her marriage with Louis Bonaparte, at which time she was at her 
 cousin's, Madame la Valette (formerly Beauharnais) . 
 
 Bonaparte's two brothers, Louis and Jerome, were also put to school 
 by Josephine, under the care of M. Mestro, a celebrated teacher at 
 St. Germain. Indeed, she had the whole care of her husband's family, 
 and acquitted herself of that duty with zeal and fidelity. She would 
 sometimes tell her friends: "Well, to-day I am going to visit my 
 ' monastery.' " She would then fill her carriage with all sorts of 
 presents and eatables. To have seen her preparations, one would have 
 thought her about to undertake a long journey ; and when she arrived 
 at either of the schools there was universal joy. In bestowing her 
 presents, she would ask of some of the children thanks, and of some 
 
 I Madame Renaudin, whose last husband was the Marquis de Beauharnais, 
 Alexander Beauharnais' father. She seems to have been an intelhgent and wealthy 
 lady, a cunning match-maker, and full of resources in making family arrangements. 
 Madame Renaudin was attached to her little niece, and extended to her all the affec- 
 tion she felt for her mother. This aunt of Josephine was one of the best of women. 
 By nature high-minded and generous, her pleasure consisted in making others happy, 
 and the happiness she conferred upon others was a source of the highest enjoyment 
 to herself. Note (6), page 288, is incorrect as to certain particulars respecting Madame 
 Renaudin, and especially the character of that lady. M. Renaudin, her husband, was 
 closely related to the Marquis de Beauharnais, but was not his business agent. The 
 property of that family was situated, not at Martinique, but on the island of St. 
 Domingo. M. Renaudin, the husband of Josephine's aunt, was in the receipt of an 
 annual income of about 150,000 francs, and his wife did not go to France till long after 
 Beauharnais had left the colony.— Note communicated by the family.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 347 
 
 bows ; and, in their distribution, was careful not to overlook the 
 children of poor parents, who were unable to afford them expensive 
 entertainments. The teachers also shared her generosity, and the name 
 of Madame Bonaparte was dear to every heart. She was, in fact, 
 adored, and deserved so to be adored. 
 
 (85) Pai^e i6cS. 
 
 Some days before the famous i8th Fructidor, Bonaparte thus wrote 
 to Barras : — 
 
 " You may go on fearlessly ; I shall be there to sustain you. I shall 
 send off some troops towards Lyons, under the pretence that they are 
 hurtful to the movements of the army ; but they will soon be at Paris, 
 ready to back }Ou." 
 
 (86) Page 170. — Venice. 
 
 This immense city seems to rise out of the water. 'Tis a strand, 
 covered with houses, palaces, gardens, vases, and statues, which seem 
 to rise up out of the sea. What renders it more delightful is the 
 immense number of boats and gondolas which pass and repass con- 
 tinually. Its population is numerous, and, while you are on your way 
 through the city, you meet them everywhere offering you flowers, fruits, 
 pastry and refreshments of all kind. 
 
 The streets are canals ; the carriages, boats ; the caleches, gondolas. 
 You see neither horses, asses, oxen, nor mules. There are few direct 
 streets ; the town is a vast labyrinth, with an infinite number of bridges, 
 the most of which are of marble with but one arch, and no railing, and 
 which form the communication with any part of the city. Everything 
 is done on the canals. Provisions and merchandise are carried from 
 place to place in the gondolas, which stop at every house. The inhabi- 
 tants alone have any use for legs, being compelled to travel immense 
 circuits in order to find their way to the place they start for. The 
 gondolas are all alike, all hung with black, in order to banish every 
 appearance of extravagance and inequality. For five francs, or for six 
 at most, per day, you can have yourself carried by two rowers, and find 
 yourself on a level with the first characters of the republic. 
 
 This pleasant and commodious kind of conveyance is a boat five feet 
 wide and twenty feet long. You are .seated in a small, square apartment, 
 with rounded angles at the top. The seat, made to accommodate two 
 persons, is a cushion covered with black morocco leather. The door, 
 the sides and the back of this little apartment are .ill furnished with 
 windows, which the occupant may, if he wishes, remo\e, and substitute 
 for them curtains of black crape, which completely shut out the light. 
 
 But since the French were at Venice luxury has made rapid strides, 
 and you now see gondolas of all colours, loaded with ornaments, and 
 covered with the richest drapery, floating majestically upon the water.
 
 & 
 
 348 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Elegantly dressed gondoliers have taken the place of those who once 
 were seen with the short sailor's jacket and round cloth cap. Formerly, 
 none but the Doge's family had the right to clothe their gondoliers in 
 livery, but now the people are at liberty to adopt any kind of livery their 
 fancies may suggest. 
 
 This class of men are remarkable for their fidelity. They shoot by 
 each other on the canals with a swiftness which frightens those who 
 have never witnessed their movements. They run into the narrowest 
 channels, and handle the oar with so much dexterity that, whether by 
 night or by day, they never run foul of each other. They execute justice 
 among themselves, and it is said that, whenever a gondolier is guilty of 
 any cheat or trick, his comrades will drown him on the spot. Their 
 aiety is likewise a remarkable trait, which they exhibit even in the 
 midst of fatigue ; and their discretion is inviolable. Passing the most 
 of their lives in the presence of the best company, they are able by their 
 wit to enliven the conversation of their passengers. 
 
 As it is impossible to reach Venice except by water, they are still 
 required to render to an overseer an account of the persons they have 
 carried, the places where they left them, and the suspicious conversa- 
 tions they have heard. 
 
 The great canal which passes through the whole extent of the city, 
 and cuts it into two equal parts, is one of its most beautiful ornaments. 
 Its water, which is always perfectly clear, is of a sufficient depth to 
 float the largest boats. Across this canal a single bridge, built of marble 
 (the famous Rialto), the wonder of Venice, having a span of 70 feet, 
 forms the communication between the two parts of the town. It is 
 in the centre of the city. The other bridges, numbering more than 400, 
 are, as I have said, simple arcades, without rails. 
 
 Of the six grand sections into which the city is divided, the principal 
 one is that of St. Mark, whose public square, the only one in Venice 
 that deserves the name, is a long parallelogram, twice as large as the 
 Place Royale at Paris. It is equally remarkable for four things : its 
 construction, its edifices, its throngs of persons, and its excessive 
 dirtiness. People of all nations, all languages, and of every description 
 of dress, form a perpetual show, and unceasingly furnish new excite- 
 ments to curiosity. There is no other promenade ; and you see it 
 occupied by the gentilles dames (i.e., women of the nobility), the nobles 
 themselves, the common people, sailors, Turks and Americans, generally 
 with pipes in their mouths, promenading from the beginning of January 
 to the end of December. 
 
 Among the churches which adorn this public square, the patriarchal 
 church of St. Mark holds the first rank. Marble, porphyry, alabaster. 
 Oriental granite, mosaics adorn its floor, its walls, its cupolas, its vaults, 
 and the innumerable columns which sustain the edifice. 
 
 The front of St. Mark's, which looks towards the square, has five
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 349 
 
 brazen doors, ornamented with historical inscriptions in bas-relief. 
 Over the middle one are the four bronze horses, the work of the 
 celebrated Lysippus. (They adorned, for a time, the triumphal arch 
 of the Carrousel at Paris, but, like many other objects of art, were 
 finally restored to their owners.) Tiridates, King of Armenia, once 
 gave them as a present to the Emperor Nero, who made use of 
 them in erecting a triumphal arch. Constantine transported them 
 to Byzantium, whence the Venetians brought them at the time they 
 pillaged Constantinople. 
 
 Another ornament in the square of St. Mark's is the Doge's palace. 
 It is a vast and majestic edifice, and, though constructed in the 
 Gothic style, is a building of great magnificence. It is surrounded 
 by open porticoes, sustained by marble columns. The court is beau- 
 tiful and spacious, and is ornamented with antique statues. 
 
 From the court you enter those vast galleries where you find 
 the lions' heads with open jaws, with this inscription ; " Dcnunzic 
 Segrete," the object of which is to receive the petitions and memorials 
 of such persons who wish to remain unknown as accusers. There 
 is a lion's mouth for each sort of crime, as the inscription written 
 over it shows. Every citizen, whenever he is so disposed, throws 
 in a memorial containing his views of the public good. Members 
 of the council, magistrates, and even the Doge himself, may be thus 
 secretly accused, and it is made the duty of the state inquisitor to 
 e.xamine into the importance of those "denunciations," which some- 
 times alarm strangers, even in the midst of their pleasures. 
 
 There is no country in the world where you are more free than 
 at Venice, provided you do not intermeddle with the affairs of the 
 Government, and as to it you will find it necessary to observe a 
 rigorous silence. 
 
 The famous Chamber of Justice was composed of ten members, 
 chosen by the Grand Council. Its judicial power was supreme ; no 
 one, not even the Doge himself, was exempt from it, and it pro- 
 nounced its sovereign sentence upon all crimes against the state. 
 This tribunal was an enemy to great reputations and great services. 
 
 From the Council were taken three inquisitors, who had absolute 
 authority in all cases involving state policy. They decided, in the 
 last resort, questions involving the rights of property, the liberties, 
 and even the lives of the citizens. If their opinion was unanimous, 
 their resolution was carried into effect without any other formality ; 
 if divided, the question was laid before the Council of Ten. They 
 had their spies everywhere, and so absolute was their authority that 
 they might enter the Doge's palace night or da\- without being announced, 
 rouse him from his sleep, rummage his apartments and even his pockets, 
 examine him, condemn him to death, and execute him on the spot. 
 
 The other structures which contribute to the embellishment of the
 
 350 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 square of St. Mark's are the library, the two law inns, the portal of 
 St. Giminiaro, all magnificent edifices, lending an air of gaiety as well 
 as solemnity to the whole scene. From these details the reader may 
 judge of the external splendour of this celebrated square, which, for 
 beauty and extent, is placed by the Venetians far above all other 
 objects of the kind. Hence the ladies find no pleasure so attractive 
 as the promenade which it furnishes. 'Tis not, however, in this so 
 much vaunted city that we find the monuments of the best taste ; 
 other Italian cities furnish, perhaps, a greater number of churches and 
 palaces, though there are very few which exhibit such a noble and 
 regular style of architecture, and fewer still which are richer in 
 paintings, &c., &c. 
 
 The Venetians calculate so much upon the richness and fertility 
 of their country that they neglect the cultivation of the soil. They 
 never prune their fruit trees, and would not be at the trouble to 
 pluck off two hundred peaches from a branch in order to cull out and 
 save a hundred which, though the best, happened to be the highest. 
 Though possessing the best kind of grain and the best grapes, they 
 are justly reproached with making the most detestable bread and 
 wine on earth. Everything which can contribute to the comforts 
 of life and the luxuries of the table is produced in abundance 
 among them ; and it is an amusing spectacle to witness the immense 
 number of boats that arrive every morning and from every direction 
 laden with provisions, which are distributed through the several sec- 
 tions of the city. The strictest order and system prevail in respect 
 to provisions, in so much that in times of the greatest indebtedness 
 they are neither dearer nor less abundant. The common people 
 live upon polentie, a species of pastry made from Turkish flour, which 
 is sold in the streets ready cooked, and resembles a huge loaf of 
 yellow wax, from which the seller cuts you off a slice for two cents. 
 In the evening you find what the countrymen call frittoli, a kind of 
 cake made of wheat flour, mixed with Corinth grapes, and fried in 
 the street in a kind of nut-oil. Nowhere will the traveller meet 
 with a more delicious variety of meats and fruits than in Venice — 
 pears, medlars, chestnuts, water-melons (green outside and red within, 
 and which are sold by the slice), calabashes, cooked in the oven, 
 and a thousand other things. 
 
 That which Venice stands most in need of is pure water, and 
 chiefly during the heat of summer, when, for want of rain, the cisterns 
 become dry, and the inhabitants are compelled to draw water from 
 the Brenta, which often becomes spoiled during the transportation. 
 The watermen carry it in butts to the city and sell it to rich persons, 
 who distribute it sparingly among the lower classes, during a season 
 of dearth. 
 
 The Venetian ladies adopt foreign fashions, and prefer those of
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 33I 
 
 France to all others. Since the residence of Josephine among them, 
 they have purchased cashmeres and added to their jewellery. It 
 may be said that they dress with taste, but not when they go to the 
 theatre, for then they dress in the greatest lu-^ligc-, under the idea 
 that they are incognito. When dressed in the sindalc (a species of 
 black veil), a common article of dress, they all appear handsome, 
 but when in full dress, with all their trinkets, the illusion vanishes 
 at once. 
 
 Assemblies are less frequent in Venice than in an}'^ other capital. 
 The Venetians do everything contrary to other nations. They enter 
 their gondolas backwards ; the place of honour is on the left 
 hand ; men wear their hats in the best company ; few of the houses 
 are open to visitors ; they see each other only at the places of 
 refreshment, for a bench costs less than a supper. Before the 
 French gave the tone to Venetian society, giving a dinner furnished 
 gossip for the whole town. You would hardly find a pair of chim- 
 neys in the larger palaces, and in the private dwellings never more 
 than one — for the kitchen, in which there was seldom a fire. But 
 at the present time the Venetians are beginning to adopt our habits, 
 and to employ cooks, who prepare the most delicate viands, and keep 
 them in constant readiness. Ladies of quality very seldom come near 
 the fire, under the idea that the heat injures the complexion ; but in 
 return they are fond of enjoying a fine moonlight upon the square of 
 St. Mark's, whose streams of light, falling from its glittering domes, are 
 reflected by the waves of the sea, bounding the square on one side. 
 The murmurs of the waves, mingling with sweet strains of music, 
 form a constant and delightful recreation to the fair Venetians. After 
 enjoying this delicious scene for a while, the crowd gradually disperse, 
 and the signoras are conducted home in the most elegant gondolas, to 
 the sound of enchanting vocal and instrumental music. Little attention 
 is paid to the songsters, though the latter are quick in detecting who, 
 among the listening throng, are persons of consequence, from the colour 
 and magnificence of the numerous pavilions upon the lake. 
 
 (87) Page 170). 
 
 The carnival is of all amusements the least gay. It is a sort of 
 masquerade, and commences the first days of October. The reputation 
 it bears throughout Europe must, without doubt, have drawn thither 
 a great many strangers expressly to witness it. It consists in wearing 
 a black robe or tabaro, a bahutc or domino of the same colour, which 
 covers only the head and shoulders ; a plain or a plumed hat, with a 
 white masque on the face, or one side of the hat. Thus tricked out. 
 they pay visits to their friends during the day. and attend the theatres 
 in the evening. This uniform, which certainly presents nothing attrac-
 
 352 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tive to the sight, is well adapted to freedom of movement. It confounds 
 the sexes, and all conditions of society; for the women are dressed in 
 the same manner, a circumstance which gives rise to much scandal. 
 Heretofore, the monks and nuns were in the habit of putting on this 
 disguise, and joining in the public merriment, the police shutting their 
 eyes to their desertion from the convents — an indulgence which made 
 them attached to the Government, and prevented them from engaging 
 in the intrigues at the Court of Rome. 
 
 The same authority which licenses these masquerades, protects the 
 participants in their amusements, one of the greatest of which is 
 gaming. Large assemblages are gathered in the public rooms. 
 Formerly, two senators held the stakes ; the gold is counted out in 
 heaps, and both players and spectators observe the strictest silence — 
 a silence unbroken save by occasional imprecations in an undertone 
 from the losers in the game. Up to within the last eight days of the 
 ceremony, one would not doubt but that he was attending the carnival ; 
 but, from that time forth, the whole population engage in it. Every- 
 body is in disguise, and gaming at the ridotto was formerly much 
 practised. To enter there it was sufficient for one to have a false nose 
 upon his face. But now, as these public games are forbidden, people 
 go to the casinos, where even the best society do not disdain to resort 
 for certain amusements. The Venetian belles constitute the charm of 
 these soirees. Rendezvous, full of the ardour of lovers, often work the 
 despair of husbands, and prove eminently favourable to secret intrigues. 
 Shrove Thursday is regarded as the finest day ; then spectacles take 
 place in the open air, the most attractive of which is the exhibition 
 of two bullocks, whose heads are cut off by a single blow with a sword 
 four feet long, and four fingers broad through its whole length. It 
 requires a most vigorous arm to raise it. 
 
 All these festivities close by a display of fireworks, played off before 
 sunset, it being required that all should be finished by daylight. The 
 whole town assembles in the square of St. Mark's. One of the most 
 cherished franchises among the Venetians is the right to wear this 
 disguise six months in the year ; and at all these singular ceremonies 
 everyone has a right to appear masked. 
 
 Among what are called the pleasures of the carnival, the nocturnal 
 walks along the great canal occupy the first rank. The thousand 
 gondolas which pass and cross each other's tracks, present a most 
 captivating spectacle. You hear the gondoliers singing the beautiful 
 verses of Ariosto and Tasso, in alternate couplets. Some of them even 
 cultivate poetry. Venice, built upon piles which leave only space 
 enough to penetrate the town by means of boats, is really a wonder. 
 And the poet Sannarar but uttered the truth in that well-known song 
 of his which ends with the following beautiful thought — 
 " Men built Rome, the gods Venice."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 353 
 
 (88) Pagi: 170. — Genoa the Proud. 
 
 This city is built on the side of a mountain, and rises from the bay 
 in the form of an amphitheatre. It is more than 1,800 toises in length, and 
 completely surrounds the harbour, which is in a semi-circular form, and 
 more than 1,000 toises in diameter. The town presents one of the most 
 magnificent spectacles the eye ever beheld, except, perhaps, Naples. 
 When you are a mile distant at sea, the prospect appears the most 
 charming. The walls are four leagues in circuit, embracing a large 
 area that is uninhabited. Commencing on the west at the Faubourg 
 St. Peter d'Arna, they run north-easterly, and terminate in a point or 
 spur. The fortifications are strong, and well supplied with cannon. 
 The port is formed by two moles, and at its entrance is a light-house 
 360 feet high. The streets of the town are uneven, rough, and narrow, 
 except two of them, which are called Rue Neuve and Rue Balbi, which 
 are broad and straight, and lined on each side with superb palaces. 
 Perhaps nothing in Europe equals these two streets in beauty and 
 magnificence. These palaces, as well as the others in Genoa, are 
 spacious, highly decorated, and many of them rich in paintings and 
 furniture. Columns, cornices, balustrades, walls, pavements — every- 
 thing is of marble, and in a profusion which at first excites admiration 
 and astonishment, but of which you are soon tired. 
 
 (89) Page 178. 
 
 On his return from Italy, Bonaparte's domestic situation gave him 
 
 uneasiness. He listened to the lying reports made him by Ant , 
 
 his coachman and secret spy. Josephine noticed that a fellow called 
 
 Charles B accompanied Ant whenever the latter called on the 
 
 general. Charles was in the employ of Barras. The fact of their 
 having a mutual understanding was true, but Josephine cunningly 
 used the influence which she possessed over Charles, and drew from 
 him, so far as was possible, the secrets of the director ; and it was by 
 this means that she became acquainted with the purpose of the 
 Directory to get rid of the general. She even persuaded Bonaparte 
 to make some slight concessions to the Directory, in order that she 
 might afterwards reach her great object. In this way her slightest 
 movements were often misinterpreted, and viewed in a false light. 
 Madame Bonaparte might have been exceedingly unsteady, but she 
 was never culpable. 
 
 Bonaparte was told that Josephine, under the pretext of going to 
 the manege, went to visit a certain person whose society he had for- 
 bidden her to frequent. After this, he came to an open rupture with 
 her, and a violent quarrel ensued. In a moment of passion he drove 
 her from his house in Chantereine Street. At eleven o'clock in the 
 evening, he gave the most positive and formal orders to his servants 
 VOL. I 23
 
 354 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 not to permit her to re-enter her apartment. Josephine, in despair 
 at finding herself turned into the street at midnight, knew not whither 
 to direct her steps. Luckily, however, she bethought herself of that 
 
 same kind friend of hers, Madame de Chat Ren , and went 
 
 immediately to her house, and related to her what she properly called 
 her misadventure. And in this she was certainly correct, for 'twas 
 to save the life of a man who was the father of a family, and who 
 had been condemned to be shot, that she had thus left her house 
 against her husband's orders, " Stay here," said her obliging friend; 
 "I will set myself at work. All I want of you is that you should say 
 nothing in the presence of my family ; for I would not, for anything 
 in the world, have it get abroad that General Bonaparte has turned 
 his wife out of doors. Such an act of jealousy would tarnish his 
 glory and injure your reputation." At the break of day, she hastened 
 to conduct Josephine home again. On arriving there, however, the 
 guard refused to admit her, and a few louis d'or were necessary to 
 soften the heart of this Cerberus at the entrance. At length, how- 
 ever, Josephine succeeded in reaching her apartment. Madame 
 
 Chat Ren would have felt deeply mortified at the idea that 
 
 Bonaparte was aware that she knew what had taken place betwixt 
 
 himself and his wife. A few hours afterwards, Madame Chat 
 
 Ren returned to Bonaparte's residence, as if there had been no 
 
 such family rupture. As she was going up the short stairway leading 
 into the house on Chantereine Street, she met Bonaparte. "Where 
 are you going, madam ? " said he.—" To see your wife," was the 
 answer. — "She is not to be seen, madam." — "Yes, she is — I may 
 see her." Bonaparte gazed at her, and replied, " You, madam, 
 are the too officious friend who has kept her during the night. You 
 
 rendered her a great service, indeed, madam." Madame Chat 
 
 Ren stammered out a few words, pretending to be absolutely 
 
 ignorant of what had taken place. "You know it, madam," said 
 Bonaparte, again fixing his piercing eyes upon her ; " but remember 
 these words, •for life or death.'"— "V^h.3± do I care for your threats?" 
 said she. "Josephine is my friend, and that is enough for me. As 
 to what you say about my serving her, I neither can nor ought I to 
 understand you. Come along with me ; I will explain myself to her." 
 The intrepid woman stepped rapidly in, hurried into Josephine's 
 apartment, and found her still in bed. " Good morning, my dear 
 friend," said she ; and to render the illusion complete, she added, 
 "Are you indisposed this morning ? " Bonaparte followed close behind 
 her, listening ; but, on hearing these last words pronounced, as they 
 were, with imperturbable coolness, he lost countenance, and per- 
 ceived that he had been deceived by those two women. "A pi-opos, 
 
 general," said the shrewd Madame Chat Ren , " the weather 
 
 is superb to-day ; you had better show yourself in the Bois de Boulogne
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 35c 
 
 with your wife ; that would be laughable, indeed, and I propose to 
 accompany you myself." Bonaparte saw what she was aiming at. 
 It was necessary for him to repair the errors of the evening before, 
 and to overawe those who had been secret witnesses of the nocturnal 
 scene. He gave the requisite orders on the spot, and Josephine re- 
 mained mute with astonishment at the dexterity of Madame Chat 
 
 Ren in relieving her from her embarrassing situation. The 
 
 husband rode out with his wife ; the scandal ceased ; the gossips 
 were nonplussed, and Madame Bonaparte came off victorious. At the 
 very moment when everybody was spreading the news that the Con- 
 queror of Italy had made up his mind to repudiate his wife, both of 
 them were seen together in public. " Certainly, ladies," said he, with 
 an air of mortified pride which he found it impossible to dissemble, 
 " certainly, you must admit that you are making me play a very 
 
 singular part ; " and, addressing Madame Chat Ren , added, 
 
 "You are a most seductive woman, a most mischievous woman — 
 in a word, a most amiable, bewitching and detestable woman ; a 
 woman I shall always stand in fear of; a most dangerous woman." 
 But Madame Bonaparte did not feel entirely reassured ; she was 
 afraid ; she knew not what to say ; but a single look from her 
 obliging friend imposed a rigorous silence upon her, and thus pre- 
 vented her from making any indiscreet disclosure of the matter. 
 
 (90) Page 178. 
 
 In February, 1798, Bonaparte left Paris in order to visit the coast 
 of Normandy. He was received, wherever he went, with acclama- 
 tions and brilliant festivities. But the joy of this triumphal passage 
 was marred by a disastrous event. A detachment of the guides had 
 galloped out of Rouen, on their way to Louviers, when the powder in 
 one of the caissons loaded with shells, took fire in consequence of the 
 rubbing together of the cartridges. The explosion took place in the 
 midst of a village, where the houses were crowded closely together, 
 and the consequence was that the whole village was burnt to ashes. 
 
 The Directory made a show of assembling numerous military 
 corps on the coast of France. Numerous staffs were appointed, and 
 nothing was omitted to demonstrate to Europe that France was about 
 to wield the scourge of war, which had so long desolated the Conti- 
 nent, upon the soil of her old enemy. England began to regard as 
 no idle menace the preparations for an expedition directed by a man 
 whom nothing seemed to intimidate, and who had under his com- 
 mand the boldest and the most efficient troops in the world. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte hastened to join her husband. He had an 
 opportunity to be present and witness the immense preparations for 
 a maritime conflict. In company with him she visited the coasts of 
 
 23—2
 
 356 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Normandy, Brittany and Picardy. While passing through a small 
 village she perceived a number of peasants of both sexes on their 
 knees, in a neighbouring field, in devout meditation. On enquiring 
 the cause of such an assemblage, an aged man said to her, "Our 
 church is destroyed, our curate has fled, and for want of pastors we 
 officiate ourselves." She promised to rebuild their communal chapel 
 at her own expense, and told them, "I shall use my interest in behalf 
 of your curate," The good people wanted to unloose her horses from 
 the carriage and draw it in triumph with their own hands, but she 
 refused. She sent them a sum of money in advance towards re- 
 pairing their presbytery, and obtained from her husband a promise 
 that he would discharge the debt which she had contracted. Bona- 
 parte assured her that he would do so, and they both returned to 
 Paris without any parade or ostentation. —Mt';Ko/;rs pom servir a 
 Vhistoive. 
 
 (gi) Page 179. 
 
 As soon as Joseph Bonaparte commenced his embassy at Rome he 
 sent a diplomatic note to the pontiff, in which he demanded the libera- 
 tion of all the patriots who had been charged with sedition. To this 
 the Holy Father consented, on condition that the punishment of im- 
 prisonment should be commuted to perpetual banishment. But this 
 was not agreed to by the French ambassador, who finally compelled the 
 pontiff to release them without any condition. Immediately the famous 
 Vivaldi, author of all those movements, the leader of all the con- 
 spiracies against the Government, reappeared at Rome. The fortresses 
 and prisons of the Roman state vomited forth a multitude of enthusi- 
 astic and fanatical demagogues, who were received with open arms by 
 their accomplices. From this time the fall of the pontifical throne be- 
 came inevitable. Encouraged and protected by Joseph, and sustained 
 by the French and Cisalpine emissaries, whose numbers were increasing 
 with frightful rapidity, the conspirators began again to weave their web 
 and brood over their plots, covering them, as they supposed, with im- 
 penetrable secrecy. 
 
 On the 26th of December they assembled, during the night, at Villa- 
 Medicis, to the number of eighty or a hundred, armed with pistols, 
 sabres and dirks. They mounted the French cockade and spread them- 
 selves through the town in the midst of cries of "Vive la liberie! " 
 attacked the patrols, and put to death several dragoons of the pontifical 
 guard. Joseph had been advised of this movement beforehand, but 
 kept silence. The Roman Government, however, being seasonably 
 warned, had assembled troops, passed a decree against the rebels, 
 arrested the ringleaders and marked the rest. Its agents also seized an 
 immense quantity of tricolour cockades, which it was the purpose of the 
 insurgents to distribute through the city. Afraid of being compro-
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 337 
 
 mised in the insurrection, Joseph went immediately to the cardinal, 
 secretary of state, protested his devotion, and promised to do all in his 
 power to restore tranquillity. He pledged himself also, that, so far 
 from countenancing the distribution of the national cockade, he would 
 furnish the Roman Government with a list of the members of the 
 French Legation who were entitled to wear it. 
 
 He then retired to his office, where he found Generals Duphot and 
 Sherlock. It was now four o'clock p.m., and no such list had been fur- 
 nished. The insurgents, who had been dispersed in the morning, had 
 reassembled. At their head was an Italian artist, who had been warmly 
 patronised by the French ambassador. They paraded through the 
 streets with cries of "Vive la liberie ! " and distributed the tricolour 
 cockade. They then proceeded to Joseph's palace, openly claimed his 
 protection, and were admitted into his presence. He, evading any 
 official declaration in regard to them, let them do what they would, 
 without appearing to take part in the insurrection. The disorder, how- 
 ever, was fast increasing — the throng of insurgents was augmenting 
 continually ; the papal troops were assembled, and an obstinate fight 
 had commenced between the two parties. The insurgents, pressed by 
 the regulars, were forced to recoil and take refuge in the French ambas- 
 sador's palace, continuing, meanwhile, to fight with the utmost intre- 
 pidity. The Roman soldiers pursued them even there. Joseph was 
 now obliged to show himself. He made a sign to the papal troops to 
 retire. They obeyed ; bui, the insurgents keeping up their fire upon 
 them, they returned it, and killed several of the rebels within the court 
 of the ambassador's palace. General Duphot and several other French 
 officers, sword in hand, now fell upon the papal troops, and compelled 
 them to retire. The act of aggression was in the highest degree impru- 
 dent, for it was to make it a combat between France and fiome ; it was 
 a breach of treaty, and an open declaration of war. But wrath and 
 courage seldom reason. The general pursued the regulars as far as 
 the Septimiane Gate, where the soldiers, indignant at being driven back 
 by so small a force, rallied, enveloped the general, and stretched him 
 dead at their feet, covered with wounds. 
 
 Joseph, who was a witness of this event, now fled. Duphot was his 
 friend, and was, in a few days after, to give his hand to Mademoiselle 
 Clary, the sister of the ambassador's wife ; and the unhappy young lady 
 was then at Rome. The palace resounded with groans. The patriots 
 fled ; the conspiracy recoiled upon the heads of its authors, and the 
 French ambassador was too deeply implicated to remain longer at 
 Rome. Meanwhile, the Roman Government was terrified at the pro- 
 bable consequences of this unlucky day's work. They presumed they 
 should be called upon to give an account of the blood of Duphot, and 
 that henceforth all means of reconciliation was out of the question. 
 They hastened, however, to send an armed force to protect the Corsini
 
 358 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS Oh 
 
 palace, which was the residence of the French ambassador. The Pope's 
 secretary of state omitted nothing that could justify him to the French 
 Republic; he conjured Joseph to remain, and despatched a courier to 
 the Roman ambassador at Paris to inform the Directory and avert its 
 wrath. But Joseph and the Director}- were inexorable. The former 
 quitted Rome, retired to Tuscany, and informed the Directory of what 
 had taken place. Thus was consummated the ruin of the Roman 
 Government, a terrible catastrophe, which was soon to draw after it the 
 entire overthrow of Italy. — Mhnoires pmir servir a I'histoire. 
 
 (92) Page 181. 
 
 The Pope was ill, but he bore his calamities with a resignation 
 worthy of the head of the Church, when General Cervoni came and 
 announced to him that the people had proclaimed a republic ; he 
 uttered no complaint, but contented himself with enquiring what was 
 determined respecting himself. On being answered by the general that 
 his person was safe, and that he might remain at the Vatican under the 
 protection of the eldest sons of the Church (a title given to the Kings of 
 France), or freely retire from Rome and chooso an asylum elsewhere, 
 he made preparations for his departure. Some advised him to wear the 
 tricolour cockade, and promised to obtain him a pension, but the 
 venerable old man replied, " I know no other uniform than that with 
 which the Church has decorated me. My body is in the power of men, 
 but my spirit belongs to God ; I acknowledge the Hand that smites both 
 the shepherd and the flock ; Him do I adore, and to His will am I re- 
 signed. I am in need of no pension. With a sackcloth for my cover- 
 ing, and a stone on which to rest my head, I am fully supplied ; they 
 are enough for an old man who seeks only to end his days in penitence 
 and sorrow." A few days after this he left the place which he had 
 honoured with his virtues and loaded with benefits, and returned to 
 Siena. Twenty-seven cardinals followed him into exile. 
 
 (93) Page 182. 
 
 When Bonaparte had become Emperor he readily forgot the respect 
 he had once paid to this spiritual prince, whom he, like all the rest of 
 Europe, had admired for his pious and touching resignation. When 
 he began to dream of seizing all the sceptres in the world, his conduct 
 towards the Holy Father underwent a visible change. At first, he saw 
 in Pius Vn. nothing but virtue in affliction ; but afterwards, he per- 
 secuted both him and the Sacred College. Under his reign, the Church 
 triumphant unhappily became a Church afflicted. 
 
 ^ (94) P^g^ 184. 
 
 In order to ascertain the purposes of the Directory in regard to 
 himself, the General-in-chief of the army of Italy pretended to propose
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 359 
 
 to some of its members the expedition to Egypt. His idea was, in case 
 the command of the expedition should be forced upon him. and he 
 should not be able to sustain himself against the beys, whose power 
 he designed to overthrow, to obtain the support of the successor of 
 Mahomet, and thus derive resources from Turkey. Like Catherine 
 of Russia, he dreamed of conquering that beautiful country. " Per- 
 chance," said he to me, laughing, "perchance, I shall succeed in 
 erecting the standard of the Cross upon the dome of St. Sophia — who 
 knows ? But that is not the most pressing matter for me. I have 
 begun to undermine the power of the Directory. 'Tis not by half- 
 measures that an enlightened nation is to be governed. You must 
 have strength, consistency, unity in all your public acts. The feeble 
 Directory are devoid of all energy in carrying out measures. And, 
 besides all this, there can be no republic in France. In such a country, 
 republicanism is but the quick-step towards anarchy. Where will you 
 find Spartans in such a country ? Spartans will never rise up among 
 the Gauls. Habits, customs, education, everything republican, is at 
 war with the national character. The Frenchman is impetuous, fickle; 
 he must have a government that he loves. The austere manners, the 
 inflexibility which, in ancient times, characterised republicans, are as 
 uncongenial to the feelings of the descendants of the ancient Gauls 
 as would be the slavery of antiquity, should it be attempted to be re- 
 established. 
 
 " The French love war ; nothing can check them in rushing towards 
 their object, though they easily pardon an offender. The Frenchman 
 is proud, independent, impatient of restraint, ready to undertake any- 
 thing, even the boldest innovations. The people have a sense of their 
 own dignity ; they believe themselves superior to everybody else ; and 
 imagine that all the light which shines upon Europe emanates from 
 their own firesides. Enthusiastic to excess, they will, of their own 
 accord, break in pieces the statue which they have just been wor- 
 shipping. There were those who, during the Revolution, were carried 
 in triumph on the shoulders of the populace, and who, in a few months, 
 could not find six feet of earth to serve them as a tomb ; witness Petion 
 and others, who were deprived of every asylum, and not permitted to 
 die in the midst of their household gods. The most of the popular 
 orators came to a miserable end, in the midst of lands upturned by the 
 ploughshare of the country labourer, with nothing but birds of prey for 
 their funeral train. 
 
 " The French reflect but little. The love of glory and the attractions 
 of novelty are the strongest motives to impel them to action. With such 
 subjects a king may undertake anything— provided he bases his power 
 upon good laws, guarantees individual liberty, and imposes his taxes 
 with equality and justice ; and, provided also, the shadow of liberty 
 which he grants to them is not eclipsed by the tyranny of the grandees.
 
 360 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 The Frenchman, Uke his ancestors, is fond of being summoned to 
 deliberate upon the choice of the depositories of power, and of dis- 
 cussing his own interests, which are those of the nation. It is true 
 that a benevolent sovereign must yield up a portion of his sovereignty 
 to him who aids him in the administration ; but he must never show 
 pusillanimity ; a single step out of the line that is marked out for him 
 may overthrow him. The chief functionary of France must possess 
 power enough to make himself obeyed ; and woe to him who is afraid 
 of the people ! Party spirit is immediately aroused, and puts the 
 kingdom in imminent peril ; wise men will mourn, false republicans 
 will triumph, and base intriguers alone profit by the public disorders. 
 Such is the see-saw game of politics, and it befits them wonderfully. 
 I love to recall that bon-mot of Mazarin ; it characterises the Frenchman 
 of the sixteenth century. But he is the same to-day ; if he is satisfied 
 that the public authority is determined to cause his private property 
 to be respected, that it protects trade, and, above all, leaves him in 
 the peaceable enjoyment of the free suffrage which he imagines he 
 possesses, or which he claims, all is well.'' 
 
 The Italian minister, a short time after the famous days of the 
 barricades, said to Maria de Medicis, " The people sing, madam ; they 
 sing; they will finally submit." At present, all parties are singing, but 
 by persuading them to make some concessions to each other, the 
 smouldering embers of the Revolution, now ready to blaze up anew, 
 may easily be extinguished — a new conflagration will bring on a 
 universal explosion of all parties and all powers. — Note by Josephine. 
 
 (95) Page 186. 
 
 Bonaparte had determined to take Josephine with him to Egypt. 
 But the new disputes which arose between them inflamed the old 
 discord that had reigned for some time. After she had embarked on 
 the Orient, which was then ready to set sail, she received orders to 
 return to Paris immediately (the result, probably, of a secret under- 
 standing between them) ; and while the one commanded the ship he 
 had gone on board of to turn her prow towards the East, the other 
 returned quietly to Paris by stage, regained her fireside, and rejoined 
 her friends. 
 
 (96) Page 186. 
 
 The insurrection at Cairo broke out on the 30th Vendemiaire 
 (21st Oct.), one month after the celebration of the annual fete in honour 
 of the French Republic. At first the assemblage of persons gave 
 Bonaparte but little inquietude. He supposed that a few pacific words 
 and some flattering promises would suffice to put an end to all dis- 
 content. The Divan listened to the complaints of the people, and 
 promised to present them to the Commander-in-chief of the French
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 361 
 
 army. In the morning Bonaparte started out of the town with General 
 CafarelH to go to Ghizeh. His aide-de-camp, Junot, remained alone at 
 head-quarters, and the moment the insurrection commenced, he sent 
 off a courier to Ghizeh to give information of what was passing at Cairo. 
 The insurrection was assuming a frightful aspect. The insurgents were 
 rapidly increasing in numbers. The boldest of them, and those who 
 were best armed, assembled in a burying-ground. General Dupuis, the 
 commandant of the place, thought at first that a few simple patrols 
 would be sufficient to disperse the rabble ; but seeing that the disorder 
 had become menacing, he sallied out of his house, preceded by his 
 bastoniers, and followed by a detachment of 150 dragoons. He had 
 with him his aide-de-camp, Maury, and M. Beaudeuf, a French mer- 
 chant, his interpreter. 
 
 Notwithstanding the mob which filled the streets, he succeeded in 
 reaching the part of the town occupied by the Franks, and in dispersing 
 several bodies of the insurgents; but on arriving at the Street of the 
 Venetians, he found his passage obstructed by a multitude fully re- 
 solved to defend themselves. He at first addressed them in a friendly 
 manner, but, finding they refused to listen to him, he placed himself at 
 the head of his dragoons and charged them with energy. In a moment 
 he was surrounded by the enemy, and covered with wounds. The 
 point of a lance struck him in the breast and opened an artery. At the 
 same time his aide-de-camp fell from his horse, while reaching out his 
 hand to enable the general to remount. But in vain ; Dupuis was 
 carried to the head-quarters of his friend General Junot, where he e.\- 
 pired a few hours after. The news of this untoward event spread a 
 universal alarm. The roar of artillery increased ; the French army 
 marched out of its encampments, and the combat became bloody 
 through all the streets of the city. The inhabitants, from the tops of 
 their houses, poured down a perfect shower of stones upon the French 
 soldiers. The insurgents, supposed to number some 15,000, recoiled 
 and sought refuge in a mosque, where they entrenched themselves to 
 give time for their friends to rally and join them. 
 
 Bonaparte, with his guides, now presented himself at the gate of 
 Cairo, but was not able to enter. He found the same resistance at the 
 Institute, and was unable to penetrate into the town, except through 
 the gate de Boulak. But all communication was now cut ofif, and he 
 was fairly put upon the defensive. General Bon temporarily took the 
 command of the place. The streets of the city became the theatres of 
 the most terrible and bloody conflicts. The French who had settled 
 there were surprised and massacred in their houses. The house of 
 General Cafarelli was surrounded and broken open by the mob. 
 Several French officers of distinction defended themselves there with 
 rare intrepidity ; but, overcome by numbers, they paid the forfeit of 
 their lives for their courageous resistance. The Institute was attacked,
 
 362 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 but not carried. Darkness suspended the fury of the insurgents, and 
 Bonaparte took advantage of it to despatch an order to the troops that 
 were stationed round Cairo, to march to it without delay. 
 
 The next morning the city presented a still more menacing aspect. 
 The Arabs had joined the insurgents, and the capital was fast filling 
 with peasants, armed with clubs, pikes, sabres, and all kinds of instru- 
 ments which they could use either in attacking the French or defend- 
 ing themselves. 
 
 In this crisis Bonaparte and his generals displayed extraordinary 
 presence of mind, and a resolution worthy of all praise. Generals 
 Lannes, Vaux and Damas, sallied out of the city, at the head of their 
 troops, in order to keep back reinforcements from the country, and 
 forced a great number of them to retire. 
 
 During the night. General Daumartin passed round the city with 
 several pieces of artillery, and posted himself at Mokattam in such a 
 manner as to command the capital. The troops took their positions in 
 the several quarters of the town, and by means of the superiority of 
 their tactics, and the excellent dispositions made by the officers, they 
 were soon able to dictate terms to the insurgents. At intervals, the 
 General-in-chief sent word to them, offering them pardon ; but this 
 only served to encourage them in their rebellion. He then surrounded 
 the Grand Mosque, where the great body of them were assembled, and 
 ordered the troops in the citadel, and General Daumartin, to commence 
 the bombardment. 
 
 At this moment a phenomenon, rarely witnessed in Egypt, inter- 
 vened and disconcerted the insurgents. They became suddenly dis- 
 mayed at seeing the heavens overcast with clouds. The thunder rolled 
 through the sky ; the red and rapid lightning glared among the clouds. 
 The roar of cannon, mingling with the dreadful crashes of thunder, 
 struck such a terror into the Mussulmans, that the remaining quarter of 
 the city, which had not yet taken part in the general movement, did not 
 dare show itself in arms ; and after the bombardment had lasted for two 
 hours, those who had entrenched themselves in the Grand Mosque 
 sent to ask pardon of Bonaparte. He repHed, proudly, "The hour of 
 clemency has passed. You began; it belongs to me to end it." He 
 then increased the vigour of the blockade around the mosque ; the 
 French soldiers advanced up to its very gates, and, breaking them with 
 their axes, penetrated into the interior of the edifice. The carnage now 
 became dreadful ; it was no longer a battle — it was a butchery. The 
 unhappy Mussulmans sought in vain to escape. They fell beneath the 
 bayonets of the French, and everyone who was found armed with a 
 club or a stone was put to death without pity. Some of the insurgents, 
 scattering in small bodies through the city, dismayed at the fate of their 
 comrades, sought to shelter themselves in the nooks and secret hiding- 
 places in the city ; but the Arabs of the desert (enemies alike to both
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 363 
 
 parties) and the French cavalry, commanded by General Dancourt, 
 drove them from their coverts into the centre of the town, where they 
 were put to death. This bloody execution lasted from four o'clock in the 
 afternoon until the next morning, when the French soldiers, tired with 
 killing, finally stopped. The number of the insurgents who were slain 
 was estimated at 5,000. The French lost 200 men. 
 
 The next day was spent in seeking out and punishing the guilty. 
 Twenty of the subaltern sheiks, who had shown a great hatred of 
 Bonaparte, were charged with having stirred up the revolt. Five of 
 them were arrested, and among them the sheik who officiated at the 
 Grand Mosque. He was a man of considerable authority in the city, 
 but of more boldness and independence than the others. During the 
 revolt he had retired to the French head-quarters in order to give 
 assurances of his innocence. But this trick did not avail him. The 
 sheiks of the Divan, who were there before him, and whose secret in- 
 clinations in favour of the French he had often censured, repelled him 
 from their ranks, and Bonaparte delivered him over to a military com- 
 mission. The unhappy Mussulman was beheaded; and the four other 
 sheiks, together with a great number of Egyptians and Turks, who were 
 pointed out as the ringleaders of the revolt, were shot. And thus was 
 accomplished the reduction of a people to whom had been promised 
 all the blessings of civilisation. — Mt'moins pour serviv a I'histoire. 
 
 (97) Page 188. 
 
 During the eighteen months that Bonaparte was absent on the 
 Egyptian campaign, Josephine lived at Malmaison. She purchased it 
 of M. Lecolteux, before her husband's departure for Egypt. Here she 
 was able to see her friends without restraint, of the number of whom 
 
 was Charles Bo ; and she received frequent visits from Barras, 
 
 Tallien, and his wife. She lived without display, although she had 
 considerable sums at her disposal. She had nothing of her own, for 
 such was her benevolence, such her desire to oblige others, that she 
 often lavished her bounties without discernment. 
 
 Bonaparte's stay in Egypt began to weary her, for she really loved 
 that man, although she had already begun to experience his despotism. 
 She managed his interests in France, and prevented a thousand dangers 
 which menaced them. Indeed, it would have been almost impossible 
 for Bonaparte to re-enter France, had not an attentive and vigilant wife 
 managed to avert the storm which was already gathering over his head 
 in the port of Frejus. 
 
 She went as far as Lyons to meet him on his return, but they passed 
 each other on the way without knowing it.' Bonaparte, whose ill- 
 
 I When Bonaparte arrived in Paris, he alighted at a house in Rue Ceruty, whicli, 
 before 1S15, belonged to the Queen of Holland. He addressed himself to a man named
 
 364 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 humour towards his wife had now got the mastery over him, did not 
 exactly know in what manner he should meet her. But Madame 
 
 Chat Ren having called upon him, spoke to him oh the subject 
 
 as follows : " Your wife is your friend. Without her care and vigilance, 
 you would, perhaps, ere this, have been the subject of an accusation : 
 for, be assured, you have many and powerful enemies, and your expedi- 
 tion to Egypt not having been attended with the desired success, you 
 could not probably have returned to France in safety without Josephine's 
 aid. 'Tis she who has made friends for you, 'tis she who has warded off 
 the blows which have been aimed at you. Bonaparte ! " said she, with 
 vehemence, "your wife is for you a guardian angel. She has done 
 everything in her power to serve you, and she will continue to do so. 
 Her heart prescribes her duties, and you will ever find her a faithful 
 friend." He admired the justness of her remarks; they flowed from 
 the heart ; and from this moment he yielded his wife his entire confi- 
 dence. She became his Mentor, to guide his conduct and to direct his 
 steps. 
 
 (98) Page 189. 
 
 On the 2nd of May, 1801, I was invited to Malmaison at nine o'clock 
 in the morning. I was utterly ignorant who the lady was that invited 
 me, although I was pretty well persuaded that it must be some one 
 attached to Josephine. I was far, however, from supposing that, in her 
 present elevation, she could condescend to think of me. I know by 
 long experience that a certain kind of knowledge has but few admirers. 
 It appeared that my illustrious consultress, in order to conceal from 
 her friends what were the real revelations she wanted from me, had 
 given out that she was anxious to discover the author of a theft recently 
 committed in the chateau; this, at least, was what the lady told me 
 
 St. Louis, whom Josephine had taken into her service as a cleaner of rooms— knowing 
 that she had gone to Lyons to meet him. He asked this man whether he knew a man 
 
 named Charles Bo , who was in the habit of paying frequent visits to his wife. 
 
 St. Louis answered that he did not, that he had only seen certain gentlemen and 
 ladies pay visits to Madame Bonaparte, but that he had never heard this Monsieur 
 Charles spoken of Bonaparte replied, "That's good: go, look up my cooks." Two 
 days after, Josephine arrived from Lyons and joined her husband, with whom she had 
 a conversation respecting this pretended Charles, in reference to whom Bonaparte's 
 brothers had deceived themselves in what they wrote to him about his movements. 
 
 The object this Monsieur Bo had in view was to obtain the hand of Mademoiselle 
 
 Beauharnais, afterwards Queen of Holland. Bonaparte, though naturally jealous, 
 became fully satisfied that his wife was faultless in the matter, and they henceforth 
 had a good understanding. A few days afterwards, they went to Malmaison, which 
 Josephine had purchased for a country seat. Arrived there Josephine said to him, 
 "I have purchased this little chateau during your absence, and also this man," 
 alluding to St. Louis, the room-cleaner, who met Bonaparte on his arrival. The 
 general regarded the man with a benevolent look, prondsing to retain him in his 
 service, provided he would behave himself well. St. Louis remained in his service 
 until the events of 1814, when he was put upon a pension of 200 francs a year.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 365 
 
 who introduced me. I arrived, and found m5-self in the company of 
 Mademoiselle Albertine, one of the ladies of her household. The bell 
 was striking the hour of eleven ; I had been detained, and it was now 
 almost impossible to obtain admittance. But, while waiting, a ladj' 
 appeared, dressed in a modest neglige. She said to me, very politely, 
 " Please inform me respecting my future lot ; and tell me, truly, whether 
 I am long to inhabit this house." I looked at her with attention, 
 and discovered something interesting, something extraordinary in her 
 physiognomy, and I could not help betraying some surprise while 
 gazing at her. Her brow was the seat of serenity, on which was 
 engraved every sentiment of her soul, as if written in letters of fire on a 
 tablet of brass. Her eyebrows were the indexes of her affections ; and 
 Nature had imparted to her eyes the signs which enabled me to develop 
 her character. After making some examination of her features, founded 
 upon the rules of my art, it was easy to see that this lady was called to 
 fulfil a destiny truly extraordinary. Then, omitting to pursue further 
 my object by means of these indications, I resorted to the sciences of 
 chiromancy and cartonomancy, and, without further urging, proceeded 
 to ascertain the results of twenty-five mystic pictures. I then said to 
 her: "I tell you again, madam, everything in my examination shows 
 that you are now deeply anxious for your husband's elevation to power, 
 and that all your prayers aim at that result. Alas ! madam, beware ! 
 for if he ever comes to seize the sceptre of the world, he will forsake 
 you." She laughed much at this last prediction, and told me, good- 
 naturedly, that she was not afraid of it, inasmuch as, in order to its 
 coming to pass, she must be a Queen ; a thing which then did not appear 
 very probable, nor, indeed, possible ; for public opinion was tending 
 more and more strongly towards the consolidation of the republic — 
 one, indivisible and independent. 
 
 She asked me many questions respecting her children. She spoke 
 of her daughter's marriage. I informed her that she would be allied to 
 the family of her step- father, but that she preferred some one else. 
 Madame Bonaparte replied that was also her wish, but that the matter 
 did not depend upon her 
 
 Her son also became a subject of conversation. The tender mother 
 saw nothing in the future but good fortune for the beings she loved. 
 Her only fear was that Eugene would fall in the midst of the glorious 
 career he was destined to run. After making some remarks on this 
 subject by way of consoling her, I said to her, " Remember these 
 words, madam ; for you they are prophetic. A time will come, and it is 
 not far distant, when you shall act the first part in France." She could 
 not then help saying to me, "Eh hicn ! your predictions, up to the 
 present time, have all, one after another, been fulfilled ; this last 
 announces to me tlie return of a man icho, according to you, is to regenerate 
 France. My fortune is now settled ; I only want to know whether it, as
 
 366 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 well as that of the First Consul, will remain unchanged, because they 
 are inseparably connected together. Tell me, then, whether the present 
 Government, founded by his superior genius, is hereafter to defy or 
 incur the inconstancy of Fortune?" 
 
 After some moments of anxious and careful reflection, I replied, 
 " No, madam, you cannot remain at the point at which you have 
 arrived. According to your six stars, you are to rise still higher. Three 
 extraordinary changes must yet take place in the constitution of France 
 before it shall acquire firmness and consistence ; ah ! what did I say — 
 you will reign, you will be seated on the throne of the Kings of France. 
 The strength and power of your attending genius promise you a wonder- 
 ful, an inconceivable destiny, but your husband will one day forget his 
 solemn vows ; for, unhappily, the greater he shall become, the more will 
 he stoop to artifice, in order to attain his ends." 
 
 At length she left me, I having been, during this short interval, intro- 
 duced to the daughter and niece of the wife of that great man who was 
 soon to reach the summit of human glory. Madame Bonaparte after- 
 wards invited me to visit her in her apartment. I went and found her 
 at her toilette. A moment after, Bonaparte himself entered ; he com- 
 plimented his wife, and congratulated her especially upon the fact that 
 she at that time had on a dress of our Lyons manufacture. Turning 
 then towards me, and glancing his eye towards Josephine, he enquired, 
 "Who is this lady?" She answered him, obligingly, that she was 
 acquainted with me, but that she must decline to mention mj^ name ; he 
 said nothing more, but merely contented himself with bowing to me. 
 He then began to play with a little dog that was in the room. While I, 
 directly after, was imitating him in caressing the animal, he said to me, 
 " Take care; he may bite you, particularly as he does not know you." 
 I told him I was fond of such animals, which seemed to surprise him. 
 The sound of my voice seemed to strike him. He kept his eyes fixed on 
 me. He then took Josephine by the hand, and led her out of the room. 
 She returned a moment after, and said to me, "You are certainly the 
 woman who once foretold the First Consul his brilliant destiny, and he 
 is completely astonished at it. But," said she, with a look of intimate 
 confidence, " do not mention it to anybody, for these great men do not 
 wish to be held up to the public as possessing the same weaknesses as 
 the vulgar herd. But you may rely upon it, Bonaparte, who has a pro- 
 digious memory, will never forget your prediction." 
 
 From this time, whenever I happened to meet him, he would fix 
 upon me his penetrating eye, and sometimes laugh at me. 
 
 (99) P^^gi: 189. 
 
 From various ports in Italy and France, despatches were sent to 
 Bonaparte. Lucien and Joseph urged him to return to France, without
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 367 
 
 delay, in order to put an end to the growing evils which afflicted the 
 republic. But the former sometimes said to those who sighed for his 
 return, " Once here, he will imagine himself in his camp ; he will com- 
 mand everything, and want to be everything." 
 
 However precarious may have been his position in Egypt, after his 
 rash expedition to St. Jean d'Acre, he certainly might have made an 
 attempt to save the remnants of that valiant army by an honourable 
 capitulation. The Turks would have granted it. But the English, who 
 had such a decided interest in continuing the coalition against France, 
 would they have consented to the return home of that renowned general 
 who had nearly annihilated the armies of Austria, and struck terror into 
 the very heart of that vast empire ? — of that commander whose potent 
 voice could revive the ardour of the soldiery of France, and hurl them 
 upon the foe in a torrent of destruction ? Probably not. Besides, what 
 a length of time must necessarily be consumed in such a negotiation ! 
 
 It was, therefore, necessary that he should act promptly as well as 
 secretly. He departed, abandoning his conquests to mere fortune, 
 which had now declared against them. 
 
 From the roadstead of Aboukir to the island of Corsica, Bonaparte, 
 during a month's voyage, saw only one English frigate. Neptune had 
 formed an alliance with Pluto to save him ; and Madame Bonaparte 
 had secured him friends in France, and even in the bosom of Albion. 
 
 Landing at Ajaccio, his first care was to make enquiry respecting the 
 political state of things in France. He questioned the public and 
 military functionaries, and was particularly attentive to the minute 
 details given him by M. Coffin, the French consul at Cagliari, whom the 
 war had brought back to Corsica, respecting the situation of Paris. 
 Coffin was an able man, perfectly familiar with the state of parties in 
 France. He satisfied Bonaparte's impatient curiosity by handing him 
 the most recent Paris newspapers, which Bonaparte greedily devoured. 
 Whenever, in reading, he met with a passage which seemed to favour 
 his designs, tapping his foot on the floor, he would say, "Ah! I shall 
 not be there in time — I shall arrive too late ! " showing plainly, by his 
 manner, that he was afraid the revolution which he meditated would be 
 consummated before his arrival. Contrary winds detained him at 
 Ajaccio for four days, and he employed this interval of leisure in taking 
 the minutest precautions to escape from the enemy's cruisers at sea. A 
 felucca de paste was made fast to his vessel, and thirty able rowers placed 
 on board of it. Had the slightest accident occurred to his vessel, he 
 was to throw himself into the felucca, and by the use of the oars gain 
 the coast of Provence. He left Ajaccio on the 13th Vendemiaire (3rd 
 Oct.), and three days after the people of Frejus saw him land. Their 
 acclamations rang through the whole length and breadth of France, 
 with the rapidity of sound. At the news of his arrival, the masses 
 began to hope, the different parties began to be busy, and the army.
 
 368 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 habituated to victory, was again filled with joy. But the political 
 horizon was still covered with thick clouds. 
 
 (100) Page ig6. 
 
 General Augereau showed himself, on several occasions, one of the 
 most determined antagonists Bonaparte had, and was far from approving 
 his gigantic projects. "This man," said the revolutionary veteran, 
 " will, in the end, spoil everything in undertaking to do too much. He 
 strangles the republic while he seeks to caress monarchy." The treaties 
 concluded by the General-in-chief of the army of Italy with several 
 princes showed clearly enough that the victor of Areola possessed an 
 ambition which placed him upon an equality with sovereigns. Beyond 
 doubt, he even then entertained the idea that he should, at no distant 
 day, be able to dictate laws to the different nations which he conquered. 
 The principal merit of the i8th Fructidor belonged to Augereau, and he 
 reaped the fruits of it. He had no hand in the intrigues carried on 
 during the Egyptian expedition. Those two generals finally forgot each 
 other. 
 
 The events of Brumaire apparently reconciled them. The First 
 Consul esteemed Augereau as a good soldier. "He is," said he, "a 
 brave man, prompt and efficient in executing a movement ; but his gross 
 bluntness displeases me. We never agreed except upon the field of 
 battle ; he is worth nothing as courtier." 
 
 (loi) Page 200. 
 
 In a secret council at Malmaison the scheme was seriously agitated 
 of bringing about a second Fructidor. It contemplated nothing less 
 than the seizure, by a cunning artifice, of the persons of the five 
 directors, in order to dispose of them provisionally in a safe place, 
 and then to send them off — not to the island of Cayenne, but to the 
 Antipodes — to an island which was to be discovered in the year 9999 
 
 of the vulgar era. 
 
 (102) Page 203. 
 
 Colonel Perrin promised Madame Bonaparte to send her a com- 
 pany of grenadiers to Malmaison, provided she would guarantee that 
 an order should afterwards be sent him from General Murat. She 
 promised it and kept her word. It was this company of grenadiers 
 that, on the 2nd Brumaire, came to Malmaison and watched over 
 
 the general's person. 
 
 (103) Page 215. 
 
 Gohier, one of the directors, was informed that Bonaparte was 
 scheming to change the form of government. Considering the matter 
 serious, he sent a messenger to go and find Moulins immediately. 
 The latter was not at home, and it was not until the next morning
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 369 
 
 that he called upon Gohier, who imparted to him the information 
 he had received the evening before. Moulins, astonished at the 
 revelation, was anxious to speak with the informer. The latter soon 
 arrived, but was unprovided with proofs to support his information. 
 Gohier was in doubt ; he hesitated whether he ought to arrest Bona- 
 parte. He consulted Barras, who dissuaded him from it and took 
 sides with Moulins, who, at the start, was unable to yield his belief 
 that a conspiracy was on foot. They finally decided to seize Bona- 
 parte on his way from Malmaison, where they knew he was that day 
 going to give a dinner ; but they were careful not to let the informer 
 know what was their determination. On the contrary, they shut him 
 up in a separate apartment for safe keeping. Gohier wished to lay 
 the whole matter before the other members of the Directory in order 
 that they might all act in concert. 
 
 " No," said Moulins, " one of our colleagues is absent ; one 
 of the remaining two is Bonaparte's friend, and Ibarras is his 
 patron. Without him this general could not have been known ; 
 we need nobody whomsoever. Quit all forms ; we alone are fully 
 informed. Let us act. Nothing is easier than to arrest this man 
 lionaparte. I know of two cunning fellows connected with the police, 
 who, with a dozen soldiers, will undertake to execute our order for 
 the arrest. We have nothing to fear from the consequences. The 
 moment the general is imprisoned he will experience the fate of all 
 unsuccessful conspirators ; he will be deserted by his party ; his 
 jiarty will be annihilated." 
 
 The two directors sallied out and assured themselves of the ser- 
 vices of the persons who were necessary to the execution of their 
 projects. Up to this time all went well : but, on going to Gohier's 
 lodgings, Moulins found that the informer, who had been shut up 
 in a room by himself, had made his escape. Not being encouraged, 
 nor seemingly countenanced, by the directors, the fellow believed 
 himself in danger, and profiting by their absence, took refuge in a 
 family who happened to be the devoted friends of Madame Bona- 
 parte, to whom all that happened in the Luxembourg was, of course, 
 immediately made known. Like an adroit woman as she was, she 
 profited by the disclosure, while the two directors, in consternation, 
 seeing a window open in the room where the informer had been, 
 exclaimed, " We are lost ! This informer is a rascal and is sold 
 to our enemies. The conspiracy is all false and fabricated — a scheme 
 laid for the ensnarement of our good faith ; the object is to lay the 
 general on his back and, consequently, the troops. Let us hasten and 
 revoke the orders we have given, if it be not too late already." 
 
 The orders were revoked, although one of the men employed to 
 capture the general had told one of his friends, who had invited him 
 to go to the theatre, that he could not that evening, having an important 
 VOL. I 24
 
 370 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 errand on hand, relating, as he beheved, to the arrest of a high 
 personage. The confession of the secret agent of the Directory was 
 mentioned in a family who immediately told it to Madame Bonaparte. 
 She saw in an instant that the movement related to her husband, and, 
 like a prudent wife, took measures for his protection. The guards of the 
 legislative body were devoted to her ; she secured the principal officers, 
 without telling them precisely the service she might ask of them. 
 
 It is, therefore, certain that the project for arresting Bonaparte 
 had existed for at least fifteen days anterior to his triumph over the 
 Directory on the i8th Brumaire. Without his wife, that famous event 
 would not have taken place, and France would have passed insensibly 
 under the yoke of some new master. The Directorial Government was 
 fast verging to its fall, being utterly destitute of the strength necessary 
 to sustain the burden of a republic which was only born to die. 
 
 (104) Page 225. 
 
 A young drummer, belonging to the Belgiojoso regiment, for some 
 slight fault was sentenced to run the gauntlet. Just before the sentence 
 was to be executed, he asked permission to see his colonel. " I have," 
 said he, "a secret of the highest importance to communicate to him." 
 On being brought before the colonel, he declared himself to be the 
 Dauphin, the son of Louis XVI. ; that, until that moment, he had kept 
 the secret buried in his own bosom ; that he had resolved never to 
 let it be known, even to his own sister; but that, being about to be 
 subjected to a shameful punishment, he could not bear the idea of such 
 a humiliation, and therefore had made the disclosure. He entreated 
 the colonel to examine the proofs which he was ready to produce, 
 and to suspend the punishment to which he had been condemned. 
 
 The colonel, struck alike with his fine countenance, facility of ex- 
 pression, polished manners, and the accent of truth which animated his 
 speech, concluded to submit the question to the General-in-chief, whose 
 head-quarters were then at Turin. He accordingly treated the young 
 prince with particular attention, and sent him to Turin in a coach-and- 
 four. At Asti, an old Swiss soldier of the Chateau of Versailles, hearing ' 
 the rumour, hastened to present himself before the son of his old master, 
 recognised the boy, and, weeping, threw himself at his feet. The| 
 moment the news of his arrival got abroad to Turin, the ladies all dis- 
 puted with each other the honour of looking at him. He was handsome, : 
 well-formed, intelligent, and rich in all those advantages which may 
 attract the interest of the fair sex. Being urged to recite his adventures,] 
 he gave the following narrative : — 
 
 "When I was a prisoner in the Temple, I was, as you know, confided! 
 to the care of a shoemaker named Simon. This man was a brute in hisl 
 appearance. He often abused and maltreated me in the presence of the] 
 commissioners of the commune, in order to satisfy them of his fidelity;]
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 37I 
 
 but he secretly pitied my hard fortune, and in private gave me proofs of 
 the tenderest affection. I could not doubt the sincerity of this man's 
 desire to save me, but, unhappily, great difficulties were in the way, and 
 the Convention at length made up their minds to take my life. As they 
 were afraid to do this openly, they gave secret orders to Simon to poison 
 me in prison. My generous keeper was horrified at this proposal. He 
 procured the dead body of a child, which he put in my place, and 
 presented this to the commissioners ; and, as the resemblance was not 
 very striking, he explained the matter on the ground of the violent 
 action of the poison upon the system, which, he said, had caused my 
 looks to change. 
 
 " He entrusted me to a friend of his, who at first took me to Bor- 
 deaux, and afterwards to Corsica. Fate, which had been so unkind 
 to me, now willed that he who had been my Mentor should be re- 
 moved by death. I was soon compelled to pay away the small sum 
 of money which I had, and, pressed by want, I went into the employ- 
 ment of a coffee-house keeper as a mere waiter. I knew that my 
 sister was at Vienna, and I never lost sight of the purpose I had 
 formed of joining her. With this view, I left Corsica and came to 
 Italy, in order to pass into Germany. Italy was occupied by the 
 Austrians. I fell in with a party of infantry, who endeavoured to 
 compel me to enlist. On my refusing to do so, they robbed me of 
 whatever I possessed, and at length, in order to escape a worse fate, 
 I agreed to become a drummer, not being then much above fourteen 
 years old. Since that time I have done my duty punctually ; the 
 fault for which I have been condemned is the only one I have com- 
 mitted ; my punishment is humiliating; all my hope is in the protection 
 of the Emperor." 
 
 The story, related as it was with a touching simplicity, produced 
 quite a sensation. Several persons who had resided at the old Court 
 remembered that the Dauphin had a scar upon him, occasioned by 
 falling downstairs ; the young drummer bore the same mark. The 
 public rushed to him to pay their homage, and he was addressed by 
 the titles of "my lord" and "your Royal Highness." The com- 
 mander-in-chief thought it his duty to write to Vienna for instructions 
 on the subject, and, in reply, received an order to send the pretended 
 Dauphin before a court-martial for the purpose of investigating the 
 truth of his story ; to pay particular regard to his safety and honourable 
 treatment in case he told the truth ; but to punish him with severity 
 if he turned out to be an impostor. 
 
 The young drummer, frightened at the e.xperiment of which he 
 was about to become the subject, admitted, it is said, that he was 
 the son of a watchmaker at Versailles, and that he never should 
 have resorted to this stratagem but to avoid undergoing the debasing 
 punishment which had been pronounced upon him. And yet, not- 
 
 24 — 2
 
 372 
 
 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 withstanding this inquiry by the court-martial, some persons persisted 
 in their beUef that he was none other than the son of Louis XVI. 
 
 The court, however, ordered him to undergo the sentence, though, 
 at the soUcitation of the ladies, his punishment was reduced to running 
 the gauntlet once instead of thrice. 
 
 This event, published in numerous journals, made a good deal of 
 noise, and although it possessed all the characteristics of a romance, 
 the lovers of the marvellous still persisted in hoping that one day 
 they would see him the legitimate heir to the crown. It was said 
 that when the corporal was stripping off his clothes for the infliction 
 of the punishment, the young knave exclaimed, "What a fate for a 
 Bourbon!" This extraordinary scene took place at Turin. The 
 foreign journals published all the details, and, in spite of all the care 
 taken by the Directory to conceal them, they were soon known all 
 over France. 
 
 On the other hand, some of the inhabitants of the western provinces 
 flattered themselves that they had among them the son of Louis XVI. 
 It was pretended that he was recognised in the person of a young 
 workman, who, under his simple dress, concealed the evidences of 
 his illustrious birth. 
 
 Thus did everything tend to encourage the popular illusion, while 
 that dark and tyrannical government called the Directory, trembling 
 at the sound of every leaf agitated by the wind, persecuted with the 
 utmost hatred the distributors of a prophecy in which were recounted 
 their different fates, and which was read the more it was proscribed. 
 — Memoircs pour serviv ci Vhistoirc. 
 
 (105) Page 226. — Mount St. Bernard. 
 
 This mountain, called by the Romans Mons Penninus, is the highest 
 pinnacle in that long chain of the Apennines which separates Switzer- 
 land from Italy. Nature herself seems to have placed it there, like 
 a huge giant, to check the audacity of man. Whatever can freeze 
 the courage is seen there. Snows as ancient as time ; rocks hanging 
 in precipices ; immeasurable gulfs ; mountains of ice ready to crumble 
 beneath your tread ; excessive cold ; not a trace of vegetation ; no 
 human foot-print ; a vast and profound solitude whose silence is only 
 broken by the falling of the avalanche, the warring of the winds, the 
 thunderings of the distant cataract, and the yells of wild beasts. Such 
 are the elements of the scene. It was at the foot of this formidable 
 barrier that the artillery and ammunition were collected. But by 
 what art were they to be got over ? Courage and industry supplied 
 all. The guns were dismounted ; trunks of trees were hollowed out in 
 the shape of troughs and the cannon placed in them ; the ammu- 
 nition was placed on the backs of mules ; the axletrees and caissons 
 were put upon litters and sledges. The men harnessed themselves to
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 373 
 
 the cannon and drew them along the perilous path. But they could only 
 proceed one by one ; the moment anyone undertook to pass by his com- 
 rade he was sure to be precipitated into the depths that yawned below, 
 never again to rise. It was through dangers like these continually pre- 
 senting themselves that it was necessary to open a route for the army 
 for six miles of its march. The columns became fatigued, and desired 
 rest ; but the least pause in the march would have drawn them to 
 the foot of the heights they had scaled. They were seven hours in 
 reaching the summit, and, after unheard-of efforts, the advance guard 
 arrived at that celebrated hospice which Christian charity has conse- 
 crated to the august duties of humanity. Here, in this frightful solitude, 
 in the midst of eternal snows and ice, deprived of all the charms of 
 human life, a few men, animated by the divine spirit, have, so to speak, 
 buried themselves alive in order to afford succour to their fellow-men, 
 and to exercise towards them the most generous and the most touching 
 hospitality. Here their ingenious industry has trained the dog even to 
 share their pious duties — to visit the most distant and solitary points 
 of the mountain ; to catch the cries or the slightest groan of the be- 
 wildered traveller ; to encourage them by their caresses, and to hasten 
 to the convent and bear back to them on their necks, bread, liquors, 
 and whatever can restore or preserve animation. 
 
 With what joy did the French army receive from the hands of these 
 pious monks the succours which the most active charity could bestow ; 
 and how precious, how wonderful did religion then appear ! 
 
 After a short halt they proceeded, and were soon able to measure 
 at a glance the remainder of the route. How steep and rapid was the 
 descent ! What frightful precipices beset their downward path ! What 
 a dismal fate awaited him who should make a false step ! The snows 
 began to melt ; the winds, in hustling the huge drifts from their places, 
 disclosed the most frightful chasms. The march was almost headlong 
 down the mountain, the troops sometimes standing erect and sometimes 
 supporting each other with their hands or their weapons. The least 
 slip precipitated men and baggage down the steep amidst rocks, ice- 
 bergs, and heaps of snow, into the gulfs beneath. The army left the 
 hospice at noon, and did not reach the foot of the mountain until nine 
 at night. — Miiuoircs pour servir d rhistoivc. 
 
 (106) Page 226. 
 
 The battle of Marengo decided the fate oi France. Three days after 
 the victory hostilities ceased. The fortified places in Piedmont and 
 Lombardy, the cities of Genoa, Savona and Urbino were delivered up 
 to Bonaparte, and the Austrians retired beyond the Oglio. 
 
 The Treaty of Luneville was but a momentary truce ; the victories 
 of Moreau over the Austrians menacing Vienna itself, determined Austria 
 to conclude that treaty.
 
 374 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 (107) Page 230. 
 
 Arena was in the enjoyment of a handsome fortune and an 
 honourable rank. He had embraced the profession of arms, and 
 risen from grade to grade, until he reached that of adjutant-general 
 in the service of the French Republic. His bravery at the siege of 
 Toulon in 1793 procured him to be honourably mentioned to the 
 Government. Having passed into Corsica he was elected a deputy to 
 the Council of Five Hundred, from the department of Golo, for the 
 session of 1796. He made but a small figure in that body, and nothing 
 attests his labours there except a report upon the reduction of the 
 Corsican rebellion, made at the sitting of the 28th of October, 1797. 
 On leaving the legislative body, he was made a chief of brigade in the 
 gendarmerie, which post he resigned in consequence of the revolution 
 of the i8th Brumaire, not being willing to serve under Napoleon. 
 The latter feared him still more as a Corsican than as a mere personal 
 enemy. He was leagued with other wretches, and became the author 
 of a foul conspiracy to murder Bonaparte at the opera, at the first 
 performance of The Horatii, November gth, 1801. Delivered over 
 to the criminal tribunal of Paris, together with Ceracchi, Topino- 
 Lebrun, Demerville, and Diana, the trial was like to be spun out to a 
 great length for want of evidence. But the explosion of the infernal 
 machine on the 3rd Nivose, indicating the vast extent of the conspiracy 
 against the life of the First Consul, put an end to this affair at once ; 
 and, on the 9th of January, 1802, sentence of death was pronounced 
 against Arena. He was executed on the 30th of January, and showed 
 considerable courage on the scaffold. 
 
 (108) Page 233. 
 
 It seems quite certain that Josephine would in the end have pre- 
 vailed on Bonaparte to recall the Bourbons. She knew that he had 
 promised this on his return from Egypt. During the first months of 
 his consulate he often said to her : 
 
 " The most of those who now lavish their incense upon me, fatigue 
 and disgust me. They think themselves so many Decii but I may 
 find among them another Brutus should I ever think it worth while to 
 imitate Caesar. I must reduce them to order ; perhaps in the end I 
 shall strike some great blow which shall place my name in the ranks 
 of the immortals." Often did he converse with his wife respecting 
 the ills growing out of the French Revolution, and she seized every 
 opportunity that presented itself to demand of him the erasure of some 
 name from the list of emigrants. " You fatigue me," said he, with good- 
 humour ; " you are always beginning the same thing again — always." 
 "Ah," said she, with great emphasis, " why not pass a decree recalling 
 them all home ? You, Bonaparte, ought to do that which the Directory 
 had not the courage to attempt."
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHIN1-; 375 
 
 " To satisfy you entirely, madam," he replied, " I ought, perhaps, 
 to re-establish the monarchy." 
 
 " And you, general, would be its firmest support, its chief ornament. 
 Should you hesitate, one of your generals may, perhaps, be bolder than 
 you. Moreau, for instance." 
 
 "He has neither the power nor the disposition to do so. Such a 
 stroke of policy seems to me to be very difficult," was his reply. 
 
 "I will," said she, " second you with all my power." 
 
 "Very well, very well, madam," he replied. "It seems to me you 
 are almost ready to beg a stool to sit in the royal presence at Versailles." 
 
 " That's another thing," was her reply. " I should never wish to 
 exchange the position I now hold as the wife of General Bonaparte — 
 a title which would ensure me with the sovereign every privilege I 
 could desire without becoming attached to the Court. I never should 
 wish to show myself among courtiers. I hate their maxims, and always 
 distrust their sincerity." 
 
 (log) Piigf 236. 
 
 Under whatever aspect we view the awful events of the 3rd Nivose, 
 we find it impossible not to deplore the results of that guilty conspiracy. 
 How, indeed, can we estimate the evils which would have resulted from 
 it, had it proved successful ? The French people, just escaped from the 
 din of utter anarchy, worn out by so many commotions, were just 
 beginning to breathe more freely, when all at once they saw themselves 
 about to be plunged anew into all the horrors of revolution. Bonaparte 
 at that time was regarded as their real saviour, commissioned by an 
 inscrutable Providence to rebuild their prostrate altars and restore 
 happiness to millions of citizens. Had he perished by means of this 
 terrible explosion, his death would have been a public calamity, fol- 
 lowed, perhaps, by consequences most disastrous to France; while, on 
 the other hand, the hydra of Jacobinism was raising its crest, with one 
 hand grasping at its lost power, and, with the other, sharpening the 
 guillotine, in order to take vengeance on those who had abandoned 
 its worship and resisted its tyranny. In vowing to destroy Bonaparte, 
 the wretches should have had the courage to attack him alone. But 
 crime, if it be not atheistical, is always cowardly. Fear of consequences 
 paralyses the assassin's arm and prevents him from dealing the blow 
 with directness and boldness, and hence he resorts to unusual measures. 
 Some genius, steeped in atrocity, conceived and executed the infernal 
 machine, and other geniuses, not less Satanic, by means of the horrid 
 invention, sent death, desolation and mourning into the bosom of 
 numerous families, and involved multitudes in that deadly revenge 
 which was aimed only at one man. How can such human tigers exist 
 on earth ? It is, alas ! true that Nature hath in all ages given birth to 
 monsters having the faces of men ; but it is only during political con-
 
 37.6 
 
 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 vulsions that such beings dare show themselves in the Hght of day. 
 Darkness is not their only element ; they are amphibious ; in the day- 
 time they swim along under the surface of the water, and the eye of 
 the good man is to them as Greek fire, which penetrates and consumes 
 them. Woe to the nation that contains in its bosom these firebrands 
 of discord ! Woe to the prince who has to govern such detestable 
 subjects ! And woe to the age which they were born to afflict ! It is 
 to be feared their descendants may sweeten the poison of democracy. 
 
 (no) Page 237. 
 
 The declaration of the special jury d'accusation in the matter of the 
 3rd Nivose (infernal machine), was that there were grounds of accusa- 
 tion against Francis Jean Carbon, otherwise called Le Petit Fran9ois ; 
 Joseph Pierre Picot Limodeau and Pierre Robinault, called St. Rijent; 
 Coster, called St. Victor; Edward Lahaye, called St. Hilaire ; one 
 Joyau, Ambrose Marie-Songe, Louise Mainquet, wife of Leguilloux ; 
 Jean Baptiste Leguilloux, Adelaide Marie Champion de Cice, Marie 
 Anne Duquesne, Catherine Jean, wife of Alexander Vallon ; Madeleine 
 Vallon, Josephine Vallon, Aubine Louise Gouyon, widow of a man 
 called Beaufort ; Basile Jacques Louis Collin, Jean Beaudet, Mathurin 
 Jules Lavieuville, and Louise Catherine Cudet Villeneuve Lavieuville — 
 all accused of having contrived the plan of murdering the First Consul 
 of the republic ; of having, for its execution, collected a quantity of 
 arms and ammunition ; of having prepared and stationed the infernal 
 machine, and of having, by means of its explosion, caused the death of 
 several persons. 
 
 Most of the accused were acquitted of the charge brought against . 
 them. Pierre Robinault and Francis Jean Carbon were condemned to 
 death, and certain others of them to undergo punishment in the house 
 of correction, &c. Mademoiselle de Cice had held a correspondence 
 with her emigrant brothers, the Archbishop of Bordeaux, the Bishop 
 of Auxerre and Augustin de Cice. The last named had settled at 
 Hamburg, where he had a small grocery business. His wife, modestly 
 resigning herself to the duties of her new vocation, devoted herself to 
 manual labour, and became a seamstress. The eloquent counsel who 
 defended Mademoiselle de Cice made a skilful presentation of the facts 
 in her case, which was certainly an interesting one. He gave in 
 evidence her piety and many personal virtues; he depicted her own 
 protracted and mitigated misfortunes, growing out of the Revolution ; 
 he painted in glowing but truthful colours the miseries of the members 
 of the family who, long exiled from their native land, and inscribed upon 
 the list of emigrants, had no other consolation in their solitude than the 
 news sent them by a beloved sister who, as if by an interposition of 
 Providence, had escaped from the terrible revolutionary tornado which 
 had swept away everything.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 377 
 
 " I am speaking before an assembly of philosophers," exclaimed he, 
 in those persuasive tones that touch the heart, "to an assembly of men 
 who do not regard opinion as a crime, and who are true to their own 
 sentiments — to a tolerant and generous government which holds all 
 doctrines good, provided they inspire an abhorrence of crime and a love 
 of virtue." 
 
 (ill) Page 238. 
 
 Bonaparte, having become First Consul, entirely changed his mode 
 of living. He was affable and easy of approach ; his looks serene and 
 full of frankness. In a word, everything augured favourably for his 
 administration. Madame Bonaparte became completely necessary to 
 him, and he was much in the habit of listening to her advice. She had 
 brought home her daughter, whom she had educated at the famous 
 boarding school of Madame Campan. Young Hortense had a good 
 deal of difficulty in conquering her antipathy for Bonaparte. However, 
 by degrees, and in order to satisfy her mother, she became more respect- 
 ful towards him. Josephine well knew that her husband did not pride 
 himself much upon his fidelity, and that his manner with ladies was 
 polite and captivating. But he always stood in fear of them, and 
 swore many a time that he would never let himself be subjected to what 
 he called " the perfidious sex." And certainly he kept his word, for 
 never for a moment was he off his guard against the weapons of female 
 beauty, for fear he should become its slave. 
 
 (112) Page 239. 
 
 The First Consul had long been calculating the chances which 
 fortune had for him, and preparing the minds of his colleagues to meet 
 favourably the occasion which might possibly demand the establishment 
 in France of a one-man government. To remain the chief of a triumvi- 
 rate struck him as too small a business for such a man as he. He felt 
 himself an Atlas, indeed, with boldness and strength sufficient to sustain 
 upon his shoulders the weight of a vast empire. He had by nature an 
 e.xtreme love of domination. " I cannot be neutral in politics," said 
 he ; "such is the activity of my imagination that, should I once make 
 the throne of France my point d'appui, I should, perhaps, dream in the 
 end of a universal republic. Seneca was right when he said, ' Pros- 
 pera animos afferunt ; ' but I am far from adopting the maxim of a 
 certain prelate, ' One head less and I am master of the world.' On the 
 contrary, I cherish that maxim of Lucan, and the more because I think 
 it well-founded, ' Nil pudet assuetos sceptris.' " 
 
 (113) Page 242. 
 
 The infant, Don Louis de Bourbon, eldest son of the Duke of Parma, 
 was called by Bonaparte to the throne of Etruria. The Prince of Peace
 
 378 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 was charged by the First Consul of the French RepubHc to give the new 
 King to understand that it was necessary that he should take the road 
 to Paris because the consul desired to see what effect the presence of a 
 Bourbon would produce in France, On the entry of the Prince and 
 Princess of Parma into the French territory, they were met by a French 
 general, who accompanied them to Paris with a guard of honour. They 
 were lodged in the hotel of the Spanish minister, treated with the 
 greatest attention, and invited to numerous fetes and spectacles. They 
 remained twenty days in the French capital, and tlxen set out for 
 Tuscany, escorted by another French general. The evening of their 
 departure Bonaparte said to his wife ; 
 
 " Madam, one would judge, from the ardour of the Parisians to get 
 a sight of a sovereign, that they were already famishing for royalty. All 
 right ; they shall have it. I only wanted to assure myself what would 
 be the effect produced by the presence of a Bourbon in Pari? ; and the 
 people have been on the point of shouting, "Vive le Roi ! " That's 
 enough. I now understand how to appreciate the favour as well as the 
 constancy of our Catos. A republic that is supported by reeds requires 
 a political Hercules to sustain it ; where can he be found except in the 
 army ? In taking the title of Emperor I shall put an end, at least 
 ostensibly, to the increasing interest in favour of the ancient dynasty, 
 overthrown by order of Messieurs the members of the Convention. 
 The new kingdom of Etruria that I have erected is but a coquettish 
 fancy. I was merely making an experiment of my power. I shall not, 
 I assure you, maintain this mighty kingdom of Etruria any longer than 
 is necessary to my purposes, and in order to help me in their prompt 
 execution." 
 
 (114) Page 243- 
 
 The concordat had the effect of putting ati end to the schisms in the 
 Church and throughout France, though they exist at present in several 
 departments ; witness the discussions among theologians respecting the 
 efficacious virtue of the great and the little Church. At hearing them 
 one might suppose that the burning question had again been raised 
 which decided the fate of Port Royal, and brought together the two 
 great orators of the reign of Louis XIV., the mighty Bossuet and the 
 modest Fenelon. 
 
 (115) Page 243.— ToussAiNT de l'Ouverture. 
 
 The early part of a slave's life is of no interest. Toussaint remained 
 unknown until the age of forty-five. His countrymen merely inform us 
 that he had a very particular affection for animals, and that he was 
 endowed with wonderful patience. At the age of twenty -five, not- 
 withstanding the licence that prevailed all around him, he attached 
 himself to one woman, and had several children by her. whom he 
 tenderly loved.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 379 
 
 His good conduct gained him the esteem of the bailli, or director, 
 named M. Bayon de Libertas. This gentleman taught him to read 
 and write. Some say, however, that he obtained whatever education 
 he possessed without any assistance from others. Besides learning to 
 read and write, he made some progress in arithmetic. Among ten 
 thousand negroes there was not one who could boast of these acquire- 
 ments, and the consequence was that Toussaint was looked up to by his 
 companions in slavery. He attracted the attention of M. Bayon, who 
 took him from the field of labour and made him his postillion. Com- 
 pared with the condition of other slaves, this was one of dignity and 
 profit. Toussaint employed all the leisure time afforded him by his 
 new occupation in improving his mind, and in acquiring that knowledge 
 which did so much to improve his understanding and his manners, and 
 prepare him for the high part he was to act. 
 
 When the blacks revolted in 1791, Toussaint was still a slave on 
 the plantation where he was born. Among the chief conspirators 
 were several friends of his who urged him to take part with them. 
 But, whether from his native humanity he was shocked at the bloody 
 spectacle of murder, or whether his love for his master hindered him 
 from rushing on inevitable destruction, it is certain that he refused 
 obstinately to take part in the first revolutionary movements. His 
 master, not having fled at the breaking out of the rebellion, was in 
 danger of falling a victim to it. Indeed, his death seemed inevitable ; 
 but Toussaint did not in this critical moment forget the humane treat- 
 ment he had received from him. He resolved to save him, even at 
 the risk of incurring the vengeance of his own countrymen. He made 
 all the necessary preparations for his escape, and having found means 
 to ship off a considerable quantity of sugar to aid him in his exile, 
 he sent him with his family to North America, taking all proper 
 measures for his personal safety. Nor did Toussaint stop here. After 
 M. Bayon had established himself in Baltimore, Maryland, Toussaint 
 availed himself of every occasion to afford him some new proof of 
 his gratitude. It must be confessed that even the very best treat- 
 ment which a slave can receive in the West Indies demands but little 
 gratitude, but a truly noble soul does not measure its acknowledg- 
 ments by the benefits it has received, Toussaint forgot that he had 
 ever been held in bondage, and only remembered his master's kind- 
 ness in alleviating the burden of his chains. Bayon had the good 
 fortune to experience in a negro much more humanity and much 
 more gratitude than are often found in the most polished Europeans. 
 
 Having discharged this debt of gratitude, Toussaint no longer 
 hesitated to enrol himself in the army that had been raised by the 
 blacks and which had begun to be disciplined. He joined General 
 Biasson's corps, and was appointed his lieutenant. Biasson possessed 
 great military talents, tarnished, however, by a native ferocit}-. His
 
 380 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEiMOIRS OF 
 
 cruelties rendered him odious. He was degraded from his rank, and 
 the command given to Toussaint. The latter displayed high qualities, 
 and in the midst of prosperity ever preserved the same humanity 
 which had marked his conduct in adversity. Far from imitating the 
 other chiefs, who flattered the masses in order to excite them to 
 vengeance and crime, he endeavoured, both by precept and example, 
 to inspire them with a love of virtue, order and labour. The fertility 
 of his genius, the solidity of his judgment, his untiring zeal in the 
 discharge of the complicated functions of general and governor, with 
 which he was charged, excited the admiration of all parties. 
 
 The following picture of him is from one of his enemies : — 
 
 " He has a fine eye ; his look is keen and piercing. Scrupulously 
 sober in his habits, he follows up his plans with an ardour which 
 nothing can abate. He is a fine horseman and rides with incon- 
 ceivable swiftness, often travelling fifty or sixty leagues without 
 stopping. His aides being unable to keep up with him in his rapid 
 progress over the country, he often arrives at the end of his journey 
 alone and unexpected. He usually lies down in his full dress, and 
 gives but a very small part of his time to eating and sleeping." 
 
 But Toussaint's integrity was remarkable. The Creoles, as well 
 as the English officers, who had fought against him jointly, testify 
 that he never violated his oath. Such was the absolute confidence 
 placed in his word, that a great number of the planters and merchants 
 who had taken refuge in the United States returned to St. Domingo 
 upon a mere promise of protection from him. He restored to them 
 the property of which they had been despoiled, and ever afterwards 
 showed himself worthy of their confidence. 
 
 As soon as Toussaint was invested with his new dignity, the war 
 between the negroes and their old masters ceased ; and the French 
 commissioners, who desired nothing so much as to get possession of 
 the government of the colony, assented to the enfranchisement of the 
 negroes, and assured them that they would use all the means in their 
 power to maintain their freedom. But a new civil war soon broke out 
 between the partisans of royalty and those of the French Convention, 
 and for some time the two parties fought each other with bloody 
 obstinacy. Men of all colours flew to arms, and those two parties 
 (royalists and republicans) embraced both whites and blacks in nearly 
 equal numbers. Toussaint declared in favour of the royalists, and, 
 by means of his courage and good conduct, that party soon became as 
 successful and as powerful in St. Domingo as it was unsuccessful and 
 fallen in the mother country. Such were his eminent services during 
 this war, that the King of Spain, having abandoned the coalition which 
 the principal Powers of Europe had entered into against the French 
 Republic, gave him the grade of general in his army, and decorated him 
 with the ancient military order of the country.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 381 
 
 But Toussaint was not slow to perceive that sound policy for- 
 bade him longer to resist the French Government. The planters and 
 royalists solicited aid from England, but by no means with a view 
 to the enfranchisement of the blacks. The majority of these men 
 yearned to see the British flag floating at St. Domingo, but much less 
 as a means of re-establishing the Bourbons in France than themselves 
 on their plantations. Toussaint saw himself reduced to the necessity 
 of either receiving and recognising the republican commissioners or 
 joining the English and French royalists whom he knew to be actuated 
 by a hostility deadly to the freedom of his countryman. He did not 
 hesitate a moment, but gave peace to the republicans whom he had 
 vanquished, and submitted to the authority of the Convention. 
 
 Though long invested with absolute power, Toussaint was never 
 accused of abusing it. If at times he adopted vigorous rules, it was 
 because he was driven to it by the laws of war or other circumstances, 
 for he was by nature inclined to clemency. Many a time, although 
 fully authorised by the rules of military discipline to take vengeance 
 upon his enemies, he displayed towards them a generosity worthy of the 
 most enlightened monarch in Europe. The following anecdote presents 
 a memorable example of his clemency : — 
 
 Four Frenchmen who had played the traitor to him fell into his 
 hands. They all expected a cruel death. Toussaint left them for some 
 days in a state of utter uncertainty as to how he should dispose of them. 
 At length, on the following Sunday, he ordered them to be taken to 
 church. During the reading of that part of the service which refers 
 to the forgiveness of injuries, he went with them to the altar, and after 
 endeavouring to impress upon them the heinousness of their crime, 
 he ordered them to be set at liberty, without inflicting any other 
 punishment. 
 
 With such qualities, it is not surprising that he was beloved by the 
 negroes (who chose him as their chief) and esteemed by all strangers 
 who had any connection with him. 
 
 Toussaint retired to a plantation which bore the name of I'Ouver- 
 ture. But the moment General Leclerc, Bonaparte's brother-in-law, 
 saw the black chieftain in his power and tranquillity established in the 
 colony, he resolved to seize him and send him to France as a hostage. 
 About the middle of May the frigate Creole, accompanied by the Ileros, 
 a ship of 74 guns, left Cape Fran9ois during the night and cast anchor 
 in a small bay in the neighbourhood of Gonaives. Several boats filled 
 with troops passed to the shore. The troops landed and immediately 
 surrounded Toussaint's house while he and his family were in bed. He 
 was fast asleep, utterly unprepared for the danger which menaced him. 
 Brunet, a general of brigade, and Ferrari, Leclerc's aide-de-camp, 
 entered his bedroom with a platoon of grenadiers, and summoned him 
 to surrender and go with his whole family on board the frigate.
 
 382 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Toussaint saw at once that resistance was useless and submitted to 
 his fate, imploring his captors, however, to suffer his wife and children, 
 more feeble than himself, to remain in his house. This was refused. 
 Considerable force now arrived from the ships, and before the alarm 
 had had time to spread, Toussaint and his whole family were carried 
 on board the frigate. They were then transferred to the Heros, which 
 immediately sailed for France. During the voyage, Toussaint remained 
 shut up in his cabin, the door of which was carefully guarded, nor was 
 he once allowed to see his wife and children. The vessel arrived at 
 Brest ; he was put on shore, after a brief interview with his beloved 
 wife and family, whom he never saw again. He was then placed in a 
 close carriage and conducted by a strong escort of cavalry to the 
 Chateau of Joux, on the confines of Franche-Comte and Switzerland. 
 He remained imprisoned here for some time, with only a black servant, 
 who was as closely confined as himself. His wife was kept at Brest for 
 two months with her children, and afterwards sent to Bayonne. She 
 was never heard of again. 
 
 On the approach of winter Toussaint was transferred from the 
 Chateau of Joux to Besan9on, where he was confined, like the lowest 
 criminal, in a dark, cold, damp dungeon, which might have been re- 
 garded as his tomb. Let the reader picture to himself the horror of 
 such a cell to a man born under the sunny skies of the West Indies, 
 where the want of air and warmth is never felt, even in prison. It is 
 affirmed by some who are worthy of credit that the floor of his cell was 
 under water. He lingered through the winter in this deplorable con 
 dition and died the next spring. The French journals announced his 
 death on the 27th of April, 1803. 
 
 (116) Page 245. 
 
 In order to please her husband, Madame Bonaparte was obliged to 
 sever the bands of friendship with some of her old acquaintances. Of 
 
 this number were Mesdames Tallien and Chat Ren . The former 
 
 had piqued the haughty Sultan by rejecting his love, and the latter was 
 guilty of the far more heinous offence of prying into his secrets. " I 
 fear those two women," said he to Josephine, "and that is a strong 
 reason for admitting them but very seldom into your presence." It 
 was necessary to obey the master, and thus the wife of the Consul, 
 thwarted in all her attachments, deeply mortified and afflicted by these 
 restraints, endeavoured as often as practicable to indemnify herself at 
 Malmaison for the want of society at the Tuileries. But whether here 
 or there, she was incessantly watched. 
 
 One day her friend, Madame Chat Ren wrote her an affec- 
 tionate letter, which reached her through the medium of a third person. 
 Sure that her husband would know all about it soon after, she said
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 383 
 to the messenger who brought it, in a loud voice, "Madame Chat 
 
 Ren wants me to do her a favour ; here is my purse. Tell her 
 
 I am glad to be able to oblige her." This was not exactly the case, 
 for Josephine, on the contrary, owed her a trifling sum, and had not 
 yet repaid her. The present she sent was, of course, coldly received, 
 
 and Madame Chat Ren 's pride was deeply wounded. They 
 
 very nearly quarrelled about this, and Josephine had to confess that 
 she had not the courage to resist the despotism of her husband. 
 For a while there was a coolness between them, the one being unable 
 to forgive the humiliation, and the other believing that, with her 
 exalted rank, she could quite properly make a present under any cir- 
 cumstances. In all this, the whole cause of dispute was merely the 
 way in which this had been given and accepted. 
 
 (117) Page 247. 
 
 Madame Bonaparte was very fond of children, and always had 
 them about her. She liked to ask them thousands of little questions, 
 and often accompanied these by presents. One ought to have seen 
 her on New Year's Day. Her apartment was a perfect bazaar — 
 playthings of all kinds, every variety of sweetmeat, tasty stuffs, jewellery 
 and arms of the most polished workmanship were here seen in abun- 
 dance. The manufactures of Sevres, Versailles, &c., shone here in 
 all their splendour. Schoolboys received from her tokens belonging 
 to their future professions. Some would get maps ; some, cases of 
 mathematical instruments ; others, swords, pistols, &c. The young 
 ladies would receive elegant combs, watches, necklaces, &c., which 
 Josephine would present to them with that enchanting grace of manner 
 which ever characterised her. The children would then play about 
 with drums, helmets, fusils, dolls and articles for housekeeping. The 
 joyous group would become obstreperous with laughter and noise ; 
 the mothers, who were for the most part the wives or sisters of 
 generals, all went away pleased and satisfied. This system wrought 
 wonders. In delivering her presents, she was always careful to speak 
 a kind word to the receiver, which was always remembered by his 
 family, and served to unite army men more closely to her husband. 
 Nor were the officers' wives without their share in her collection of 
 New Year's gifts. In a word, the company left the chateau enchanted 
 with their reception, and each one singularly flattered by the marks 
 of personal favour he had received. Each one appropriated to him- 
 self what was in reality only the fruit of an adroit policy previously 
 concerted between the First Consul and his wife. 
 
 (118) Page 248. 
 
 Switzerland had as yet remained such as it was during the French 
 Directory, but the First Consul was now anxious to give it a new form
 
 384 
 
 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of government, and twenty-four hours sufficed for the accomplishment 
 of his ends. On the 8th of August, 1800, the executive committee of 
 Switzerland signified to the legislative body that the time had come for 
 them to abdicate their authority, and presented to it a draft of a decree 
 for the organisation of a provisional government. Measures had been 
 taken beforehand to ensure success to this movement. The garrison 
 was under arms, patrols stationed through the town, and strong detach- 
 ments of infantry and cavalry guarded the entrance to the hall of de- 
 liberation. The council was intimidated into obedience. A miller 
 from Zurich was the only man who dared attempt any resistance ; but 
 he was soon forced to yield to numbers. The senate, more courageous, 
 referred the draft of decree to a committee for examination. But the\- 
 were told to deliberate on the spot, and not to wait for a committee to 
 report. Twenty-five members separated themselves from their col- 
 leagues, and the rest, broken and dispirited, yielded to necessity. The 
 public tranquillity was not disturbed for an instant by this revolution. 
 Thus did everybody submit to the government which Bonaparte thought 
 fit to establish ; his will was the law, so powerful were men's hatred for 
 the past and hope for the future. France, haughty and exulting in the 
 success of her arms, secure now against the excesses of the Revolution, 
 and tranquil at home, enjoyed a secret pleasure at seeing her tyrants 
 humbled, and returned with joy to her cherished tastes and employ- 
 ments. — Mi-moires pour scrvir a Vhistoire. 
 
 (119) Page 249. 
 
 Forced alliances are subject to the vicissitudes of war. 
 
 " That a free nation (like the descendants of William Tell), secure in 
 its independence, should have resolved to maintain it ; that such a 
 nation should be able to do so, and should still renounce the duty and 
 barter away by treaty its most important right — a right whose inviola- 
 bility it had so solemnly proclaimed — is a thing' to be conceived of 
 
 by those only who hold that public virtues exist only in theory." 
 
 TJioughts attributed to Sir Robert Wilson. 
 
 (120) Page 258. 
 
 The following is the formula of the oath taken by priests, according 
 to the 6th article of the Concordat : — 
 
 The clergy, before entering upon their functions, shall take an oath 
 of fidelity to the First Consul, which shall be expressed in the following 
 terms : " I do swear and promise to remain submissive and faithful to 
 the government established by the Constitution of the French Re- 
 public. I engage, also, to hold no correspondence, to be present at no 
 conversation, to form no connection, either within or without the 
 repubHc, which may, in any manner, disturb public tranquilHty; and.
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 385 
 
 in case I discover, in any diocese, parish or elsewhere, anything pre- 
 judicial to the state, I will immediately communicate to the Govern- 
 ment all the information I may have," &c. 
 
 Gonsalvi was at this time the negotiator on the part of Rome. He 
 was an old friend of Cardinal Chiaramonti, who, having become Pope, 
 raised him to the purple. Lucien Bonaparte took part in the negotia- 
 tions as a diplomatist, although he attended to whatever seemed proper 
 and necessary to give it complete success. It was necessary to call 
 home the prelates, embittered by a long persecution, to reconcile them 
 openly with the new political system without restoring to them what 
 that system had taken away ; in short, to bind the ministers of a holy 
 religion to the new Government of France, and thus to render them 
 useful allies of its authority. To this Lucien wholly devoted himself, 
 and succeeded. His delicate attentions, his polite and engaging manners, 
 contrasted strongly with the nmladrcssc shown by Bonaparte himself, 
 who on these occasions was sure to make it known that, having reached 
 the pinnacle of power, he was exempt from all constraint, and from all 
 those attentions which convenience and politeness require. We will 
 cite an example. 
 
 One day he gave a grand dinner, several of the newly-made bishops 
 and the old French clergy being among the principal guests. It was 
 arranged that the First Consul should receive them with the greatest 
 politeness and respect. Nothing in particular occurred at the table to 
 show that he had forgotten himself ; but as the company was about to 
 leave the room, Bonaparte, full of the idea of the part he was to act, 
 hurried up to the new Archbishop of Tours, and, with a sort of caress- 
 ing air, said to him, "Well, Monsieur de Boisgelin, did you relish your 
 dinner ? " He could think of nothing more happy for the occasion 
 than that question. 
 
 (121) Page 266. 
 
 The declaration of Georges Cadoudal was that Pichegru and Moreau 
 had not become reconciled, and that they did not, therefore, meet ; that, 
 as to himself, Georges, he denied ever having seen Moreau in his life 
 previously to the day they were seated together at the trial. Pichegru, 
 on being asked whether he was acquainted with Moreau, replied : 
 
 " Everybody knows that I am acquainted with him." 
 
 "Why did you conceal your.self ? " 
 
 "Because," said he, "if I had not concealed myself I should have 
 been arrested on the spot. A proscribed man must conceal himself." 
 
 " Why did you not return to France like so many others of your 
 countrymen whose names were struck off the list of emigrants during 
 the events of Fructidor ? " 
 
 " Many Frenchmen returned to France because they were recalled. 
 I was not. I quitted Germany only because I was pursued there. An 
 VOL. I 25
 
 386 
 
 NOTES TO THE SECRET MEMOIRS OF 
 
 attempt was made to arrest me at Baruth ; I was obliged to take refuge 
 in England." 
 
 Pichegru's firmness made Bonaparte fearful lest he might rise up in 
 the midst of the accused and make some terrible revelations respecting 
 the events of the famous 13th Vendemiaire and i8th Fructidor, and his 
 secret contrivances to obtain the supreme power. 
 
 (122) Page 270. 
 
 The death of the Duke d'Enghien was a political crime. Bonaparte, 
 having become First Consul, aspired to the crown. To succeed, he had 
 to rely upon a part of the revolutionary chiefs who surrounded him. 
 He made them take part in his project. The cowards who had a 
 hundred times sworn to die for the independence of their country 
 sacrificed without hesitation her interests to their own elevation. 
 Without hesitation ! I am wrong. They, indeed, felt an anxiety, but it 
 was for their personal safety. Several had voted Death. All had a 
 hand in the crime. Hear the language of one of them to Bonaparte — 
 ah uno disce omnes : 
 
 "Nobody doubts that li'berty in France is a chimera, and that the 
 present Constitution is an aberration. To repair our disasters and 
 prevent new ones, we must have a supreme chief, and who deserves 
 the station more than you ? But who shall unveil to us your whole 
 mind ? Who can assure us that, after having smoothed the way to the 
 throne, you will not take it into your head to imitate Monk, and place 
 the sceptre in the hands of the Bourbons ? That would be a fine part 
 for you to act ; the sword of the Constable of France would await you. 
 But for us, proscription would await us — the scaffold would claim us. 
 Prove to us then, that, in aspiring to kingly power, you have no other 
 wish than to preserve it ; and we, your earliest subjects, will fall at your 
 feet." 
 
 What stronger proof could Bonaparte have given them of his desire 
 to grasp the crown for himself than the assassination of a prince of the 
 blood ? That of the Duke d'Enghien, or some other one, was resolved 
 upon ; and, because he was nearest to France, he was finally selected as 
 the victim. It was well known who was to take him, where he was 
 taken, the general who presided over the court-martial, and the 
 favourite who had command over the musketeers who shot him. 
 
 Fatigued by a long and rapid journey, the Prince, on arriving at 
 Vincennes, threw himself on a bed. He was asleep when he was called, 
 and they told him he must come down ; he was conducted into one of 
 the trenches belonging to the chateau. It was dark ; descending by 
 torchlight through a subterranean way, and along damp stairs, he 
 supposed they were taking him to a dungeon. "Why not," said he, 
 " shut me up in the dungeon where my grandfather (the great Conde)
 
 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE 387 
 
 was confined ? " He received no answer. Arrived at the last door, he 
 saw a newly-dug ditch, and a band of soldiers ready to take aim at him. 
 " I wish to speak to Bonaparte," said he. — "That cannot be," was the 
 reply. — " May I not have a confessor ? " he asked. — " It is impossible, 
 at this hour." 
 
 A handkerchief was then offered him to bandage his eyes. "No," 
 said he, " a Bourbon looks death in the face." He then shouted, "Long 
 live the King ! " and fell. A soldier threw himself upon the body in 
 order to carry off his watch ; the favourite repelled him with a blow of 
 the sabre across his back, which broke the weapon in two, and then 
 caused a heavy stone to be thrown upon the prisoner's head, in order 
 to finish him should life still linger. After his exhumation, this stone, 
 which struck him on the top of his head, was deposited near his 
 cenotaph. — Mi-rn. D.S.L.D., Lan. 
 
 END OF VOL I 
 
 H. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, \V.
 
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