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THE 
 
 WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL 
 
 BY 
 
 IMBERT DE SAINT-AMAND 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 THOMAS SERGEANT PERRY 
 
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 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1890 
 
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COPTKIGHT, 1890, 
 
 By CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
 TME LIBRARY 
 
 or eoNGREit 
 IRAauiiOTOir 
 
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 Ttpographt by J. S. Cdshing & Co., Boston, U.S.A. 
 Prksswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston, U.S.A. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 FA6B 
 
 Introduction 1 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. The Luxembourg 21 
 
 IL The Formal Entrance into the Tuileries 33 
 
 IIL The Tuileries at the Beginning of the Consulate 41 
 
 IV. Parisian Society in the Year VIII 52 
 
 V. The Two National Festivals 63 
 
 VI. Malmaison in 1800 75 
 
 VII. The Infernal Machine 85 
 
 VIII. Parisian Society in 1800 98 
 
 IX. Malmaison in its Glory 114 
 
 X. Hortense de Beauhaenais 129 
 
 XL Madame Louis Bonaparte 140 
 
 XII. Madame Junot 152 
 
 XIII. The Te Deum for the Concordat 166 
 
 XIV. Josephine and the Royalists 178 
 
 XV. The End of the Temporary Consulate 187 
 
 V 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 PART 11. 
 
 THE CONSULATE EOR LIEE. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Palace of Saint Cloud 199 
 
 II. The Consulate for Life 216 
 
 III. Josephine in 1803 234 
 
 IV. Madame de Remusat 244 
 
 V. The Trip to Belgium , 261 
 
 VI. The Princess Borghese 276 
 
 VII. Madame Moreau 287 
 
 VIII. The Conspiracy 300 
 
 IX. The Arrest of the Duke of Enghien 312 
 
 X. The Death of the Duke of Enghien 321 
 
 XL The Last Days of the Consulate 337 
 
THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL 
 
THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IN the modest cliurcli of Rueil, on each side of the 
 altar, there stand, face to face, two funeral monu- 
 ments which call forth a host of memories. The one 
 to the right represents a woman kneeling at a prayer- 
 desk, in full dress, but with no royal insignia, and 
 the simple inscription runs thus : "To Josephine. 
 Eugene and Hortense, 1825." The statue, which is 
 of Carrara marble, is the work of the sculptor Cartel- 
 lier. In the foundation of the pedestal rests the body 
 of the woman who was EmjDress of the French and 
 Queen of Italy. Opposite, a group in white marble, 
 the work of the sculptor Barre, represents a woman 
 and an angel. The woman, who is kneeling, wears 
 a regal diadem, and she is wrapped in the folds of 
 a long veil. Her attitude is that of prayer, with her 
 hands lowered towards the earth, and her eyes raised 
 towards heaven. Before her one may see a crown, 
 a few laurels, and a lyre, but her melancholy face 
 expresses a feeling of contempt for these toys which 
 
2 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 are so trivial on earth, and so much more trivial in 
 face of eternity. It is indeed the sad woman, rid of 
 all illusions, who in 1807 said to Napoleon: "My 
 reputation is tainted, my health broken, I expect no 
 further hapjDiness in this life ; expel me from your 
 heart, if you Avish it, bury me in a convent, I desire 
 neither throne nor wealth. Give my mother peace, 
 grant to Eugene the glory which he deserves, but let 
 me live quiet and alone." Above the statue floats 
 an angel who, with a gesture at once protecting and 
 consoling, shows to the unha,ppy queen the eternal 
 spheres. On the pedestal is cut this inscription: 
 "To Queen Hortense, her son Napoleon III." 
 
 Tlie remains of the Queen do not lie in the foun^ 
 dation of this monument ; they rest beneath it in a 
 crypt shut off by a gate of wrought iron, to which 
 leads a staircase in the corner of the church. The 
 arches of the vault are upheld by clusters of short 
 and massive columns. A funeral lamp and two 
 bronze candelabra cast a dim glow over this vault, 
 into which the light of day never falls. At the back 
 of the crypt, beneath an arcade, may be descried the 
 huge tomb, which seems to be covered with a royal 
 mantle, carved in stone, and surmounted by a golden 
 palm, with the arms of the French Empire and those 
 of Holland. On the tomb is this inscription : " Hor- 
 tense Eugenie de Beauharnais, Duchess of Saint-Leu, 
 Queen of Holland, born in Paris, April 10, 1783; 
 daughter by her first marriage of JSIarie Rose Jose- 
 phine Tascher de la Pagerie, Empress of the French, 
 
INTBOBUCTION. 
 
 and of Viscount Alexandre de Beauliarnais ; daugh- 
 ter-in-law and sister-in-law of Napoleon I., Emperor 
 of the French ; married in Paris, January 8, 1802, to 
 Louis Napoleon, King of Holland ; died at her castle 
 of Arenenberg, October 5, 1837." The two women, 
 the mother and the daughter, are united in death, as 
 they were in life. It is impossible to look without 
 emotion at this last resting-place of such vanished 
 splendor, of such fallen greatness, and Bossuet's 
 thoughts on the nothingness of human things occur 
 to one in this village church with its two eloquent 
 graves. 
 
 These two graves are appropriately placed under 
 the vaults of the modest church, the bells of which, 
 according to Bourrienne, made a deep impression 
 upon Bonaparte. Near by is the estate of Malmaison, 
 which was for Josephine what the Little Trianon was 
 for Marie Antoinette, a poetic and fateful spot, which, 
 after having been the abode of enchantments, success, 
 and boundless hopes, became that of despair, humilia- 
 tion, of cruel struggles, of agony, of death, and which 
 finally deserved its name of evil omen, Malmaison, 
 mala maiisio. 
 
 I am approaching the region of legend, and recall 
 Isabey's celebrated drawing ; I seem to see the First 
 Consul walking alone, in uniform, before the building. 
 I summon memories of the beautiful days and starlit 
 nights, of Malmaison in the year VIII., of the dinners 
 in the open air, the games upon the grass, of the balls 
 in which all the women are dressed in white. I see 
 
4 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 Hortense tie Beauharnais, a bright and merry girl, 
 running, swift as Atalanta, in tlie garden ; or in tlie 
 theatre at the end of the gallery, playing Rosina in 
 the " Barber of Seville " like a consummate actress. 
 I am back in the consular court, which is still repub- 
 lican, full of charm, of vivacity, rich in youth, glory, 
 and hope, with but little dread of the catastrophes 
 hid in the dark future. 
 
 Nine years pass, and Avhat a change ! Poor Jose- 
 phine, broken with grief, enters once more the house 
 where not long before she had arrived in joy. Her 
 dark presentiments have been realized. The woman 
 to whom the conqueror of Italy used to write burn- 
 ing love-letters is now disgraced, disowned, and driven 
 forever from the Tuileries. She has just drunk to 
 the dregs the chalice of the bitterness of divorce 
 which she had prayed to be spared. It is a cold, wet 
 December night ; the withered leaves lie about like 
 dead illusions ; the wind wails, and nature moans. 
 The abode of happiness is become a Calvary. What 
 a night the wretched woman passes in the room wliich 
 she used to occupy with Napoleon ! And when she 
 wakes in the morning, what a sad eye she turns 
 towards the trees which once shaded so much happi- 
 ness ! In the course of the day Napoleon comes to 
 pay an icy visit to his divorced wife ; he walks for a 
 few moments with her in the park and leaves her 
 without a kiss. 
 
 I picture to myself the melancholy scenes of May 
 29, 1814, Whitsunday. Josephine is lying at the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 point of death in that chamber of Mahnaison, sur- 
 rounded by her children, visitors, and friends, "as 
 gentle in the face of death as she always had been to 
 every one." When the Emperor left for the island 
 of Elba, she said, " Napoleon is in distress, and I 
 can't be with him." The impossibility of devoting 
 herself to him was a terrible blow to her. " I have 
 been a witness," said Mademoiselle Avrillon, "of the 
 sleeplessness of the Empress Josephine, and her ter- 
 rible dreams. I have known her to pass whole days 
 buried in gloomy thoughts. I know what I have 
 seen and heard, and I am sure that it Avas grief that 
 killed her." In her last moments she awoke from 
 her stupor only at intervals, and in a sort of quiet 
 delirium these few words escaped her, betraying 
 all the anguish of her heart : " Bonaparte, Elba, Marie- 
 Louise ! " 
 
 A year later, during the Hundred Days, Napoleon 
 went to Malmaison before the ceremony of the 
 Champ de Mai. He was received by Queen Hor- 
 tense, and at his entrance into the vestibule he be- 
 trayed profound emotion. This he controlled, how- 
 ever, with his wonted energy, and he desired to visit 
 everything, the house and the park. He wandered 
 about, deep in thought ; one would have said that 
 from one path to another he was piu-suing a shadow. 
 Then he took his place at the table, where he saw 
 the place that Josephine had left empty. The break- 
 fast was short and silent. On rising from the table, 
 the Emperor passed into the gallery, and looked at 
 
6 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 every one of the pictures, which were fixed in his 
 memory. Then he went upstairs, and came to the 
 door of the room where his wife, whom he had loved 
 so warmly, had died. Hortense wished to follow 
 liim. "No, my daughter," he said; "I wish to go in 
 alone." Abandoned by the ungrateful Marie-Louise, 
 Napoleon fell into meditation before the death-bed of 
 the grateful Josephine. Doubtless he craved forgive- 
 ness for the divorce ; and he said to himself, at the 
 bottom of his heart, " It's because I deserted this 
 woman that fortune has deserted me." The whole 
 drama of his life unrolled itself before his eyes. A 
 world of memories rose before him like a tide. Oh, 
 if one could but seize some part of the past I If hope 
 could take the j)lace of memory ! If faded flowers 
 would but bloom again ! But, alas ! everything had 
 slipped through his fingers. Napoleon left Jose- 
 phine's room with tears in his eyes. 
 
 Possibly he had thought that at Malmaison he 
 Would, as it were, dip into a healtlif ul spring, and that 
 there, in tliis home of his glorious youth, he should 
 find again his self-confidence, his faith in his star; 
 but it was a vain hope. The wife who had brought 
 liim good fortune was no more. Once again he was 
 to return to Malmaison, but after Waterloo ; and it 
 was there that he stayed after his second abdication 
 for five days, from the 25th to the 29th of June, 1815. 
 It was again Queen Hortense who received him, a 
 respectful and faithful friend in his misfortune. The 
 sky was clear, the sun brilliant, but the heart of the 
 
INTBOBUCTION. 
 
 man who was about to become a prisoner was as dark 
 as the tomb. Long before he had said : " One sees 
 everything tlu-oiigh a gilded veil wliich makes it 
 bright and clear. Gradually, as one goes on, this 
 veil thickens, until at last it becomes almost black." 
 This moment had come ; a long crape veil stretched 
 over the shadows over the horizon. The beaten sol- 
 dier of Waterloo walked until he was worn out in 
 the park of Malmaison, where he passed his last 
 hours as a free man, talking continually to Hortense 
 about Josephine, whose portrait he wished to have. 
 But what did he hear ? The roar of the cannon in 
 the plain of Saint Denis. What did he see? Offi- 
 cers and old soldiers arriving in ragged uniforms, 
 stained with dust, who told him of the progress of 
 the enemy. Bliicher had unwisely separated himseK 
 from Wellington ; the Allies were advancing in two 
 columns of about sixty thousand men each, leaving 
 so much space . between them that either could be 
 crushed before the other could come to its rescue. 
 The man of battle felt all liis genius aroused. In 
 the night between the 28th and the 29th of June he 
 made his plans ; if he could be given the command, 
 he promised to beat in detail the Prussians and the 
 English with the ruins of his Waterloo army. In 
 the morning of the 29th he commissioned General 
 Beker to carry the following message to Fouchd and 
 the other members of the Provisional Government, 
 sitting at the Tuileries. "I offer," he said, "to place 
 myself at the head of the army, which at the sight of 
 
8 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 me will recover all its spirit, to fall upon the enemy 
 with desperate energy, and to punish him for his 
 rashness. I give my word as a general, a soldier, and 
 a citizen, not to retain the command for one horn- 
 after the certain and crushing victory which I prom- 
 ise to gain, not for myself, but for France." 
 
 Napoleon, in full uniform, waited with his aides 
 for the answer of the Provisional Government ; if it 
 were favorable, he meant to mount his horse at once. 
 General Beker returned, bringing a refusal, and the 
 man of Austerlitz submitted. If Napoleon sinned by 
 pride, how severely he was punished! He, who a 
 short time ago made the world tremble, was com- 
 pelled to consult a regicide, a former accomplice of 
 the cruelties of the comedian CoUot d'Herbois. He, 
 the hero of battles, consecrated by the Pope, the man 
 of destiny, the modern Csesar, the new Charlemagne, 
 obliged to submit to the refusal and the contempt 
 of Fouche ! 
 
 It is easy to imagine the wrath of the young aides- 
 de-camp, impatient to follow him, certain of victory, 
 when they were obliged to sheathe their swords 
 again, to unsaddle their impatient steeds, and to see 
 the last dream of patriotism and glory disappear. 
 Who can describe the torture of such an hour for a 
 character like Napoleon's ? The plaudits of the mul- 
 titude, the enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers, the 
 intoxicating joys of the triumph, the solemn entry 
 within the walls of conquered capitals, the bulletins 
 of famous victories, ovations, hosannas, — they were 
 all cruelly avenged ! 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 All was over. He had to bow before an implaca- 
 ble fate ; he had to leave before the end of the day. 
 The preparations for departure were completed. The 
 Prussians were advancing on the left bank of the 
 Seine, between Argenteuil and Chaton ; if he had 
 remained a few hours longer, he would have been 
 their prisoner. He had just taken off his uniform 
 and put on citizen's dress. His mother, his brothers, 
 and a few soldiers, a few courtiers of misfortune, had 
 assembled to bid him an eternal farewell. Since he 
 had not thought of providing himself with money, 
 Queen Hortense begged him to accept a diamond 
 necklace. At first he refused ; but when she insisted 
 with tears, he let her hide the necklace in his coat. 
 After having urged unity and courage upon them all, 
 he embraced his faithful friends for the last time. 
 The last one of whom he took leave was his mother. 
 Their separation recalls the grand scenes of an- 
 tiquity, which were sublime in their simplicity. 
 " Farewell, my son," said IMadame Letitia. The 
 Emperor answered, " Mother, farewell." He got 
 into his carriage, and left Malmaison forever. 
 
 To the right of the castle is to be seen a stone ped- 
 estal, on which there stood, until 1870, a bronze eagle 
 with this touching inscription : " The last step of 
 Napoleon, when leaving for Rochefort, June 29, 1815, 
 at four o'clock in the afternoon." Why was the 
 eagle torn from the pedestal with the inscription ? 
 It could not excite anger. It was no longer the 
 royal bird, floating in the clouds, gazing at the sun ; 
 
iO THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 it was the wounded eagle, fluttering along the 
 ground, like the swallow before a storm. Oh, the 
 melancholy of greatness ! Vicissitudes of fate ! how 
 eloquent is your language in these times of revolu- 
 tion, when fortune seems to make sport of kings and 
 emperors ! How insignificant is man, and how hard 
 it is to find any trace of his footsteps ! 
 
 In the month of August, 1831, a woman was weep- 
 ing before the iron gate of Malmaison ; with her was 
 a young man of twenty-three, who shared her grief. 
 This young man was her son. She insisted on being 
 admitted, but entrance was obstinately refused. This 
 woman was Queen Hortense ; the young man Avas 
 the future emperor Napoleon III. The mother and 
 the son had just been kneeling before the tomb of 
 Josephine in the church of Rueil, and it is thus that 
 the former queen describes the emotion that she felt 
 then : " What a drear feeling came over me when I 
 knelt before that cherished image and sadly thought 
 that of all whom she had loved I alone remained 
 with my son, isolated, and compelled to flee the spot 
 where she reposed. The great number of flowers 
 covering this monument, which my brother and I 
 had such difficulty in getting permission to build, 
 proved to me that at any rate she was lying among 
 friends who held her memory dear. Her daughter 
 only was forgotten." 
 
 It was after this pious visit to the church of Rueil, 
 where she herself Avas one day to be buried, that 
 Queen Hortense and her son wished to revisit Mai- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 maison. She said : " I stopped at the gate of the 
 castle, and insisted upon entering. It is from there 
 that the Emperor started to leave France forever. . . . 
 It was impossible to secure any remission of the 
 orders of the new proprietor, who had forbidden 
 entrance to the castle without a card. My nephew 
 had sold Malmaison to a banker, who kept a part of 
 the gardens and the castle, and had sold the rest. It 
 was difficult to recognize the place, and I could not 
 believe myself at the same spot which I had left so 
 beautiful, where I had always been so gladly received, 
 when admission to it was so cruelly denied me." 
 
 How painful it must have been to see strangers 
 thus occupying a dwelling which she had inhabited 
 with those she loved ! It is a bit of the irony of 
 fate, which seems to take a pleasure in persecuting 
 wretched humanity with refined cruelty. The JNIal- 
 maison of Napoleon and of Josephine, the home of 
 his glory as consul, the last refuge of the defeated 
 soldier of Waterloo before his departure for the rock 
 of Saint Helena, all this belonging to strangers, while 
 the woman who had so shone there had not the right 
 to enter the house to go and pray in the room where 
 she had seen her mother draw her last breath ! No 
 one recognized her. She had hoped to find there 
 what her heart had left, to catch in the song of the 
 birds some trace of departed joys, or of her old 
 griefs in the murmur of the wind. But nature is 
 insensible to our sorrows, and nothing remains of our 
 dreams and illusions. 
 
12 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 In 1842 another unhappy sovereign, Queen Chris- 
 tina of Spain, in one of her excursions in the neigh- 
 borhood of Paris, visited the estate of Malmaison, 
 attracted by the painful memories which clung about 
 the place. She bought the castle and lived in it 
 until 1861. On one side she built a chapel, now 
 empty; but the arms of the -Spanish Bourbons yet 
 remain above the place where the Queen used to 
 pray. In 1861 she consented to sell Malmaison to 
 the Emperor, who paid eleven hundred thousand 
 francs and presented it to the state as a sort of 
 national jewel. The castle was restored and deco- 
 rated, and assumed its former aspect under the days 
 of the Consulate and the Empire. One day Napoleon 
 III. shut himself for several hours in the gallery, and 
 with his own hands hung up the principal pictures 
 in the places where he remembered having seen them 
 when he was a child. 
 
 In 1867, at the time of the Exposition, the Em- 
 press Eugenie conceived the excellent idea of collect- 
 ing at Malmaison and the Little Trianon the various 
 objects, pictures and furniture, which could be proved 
 to have belonged to the illustrious occupants of these 
 two historic mansions. The French, and even more 
 noticeably foreigners, crowded thither and gazed with 
 a sort of awe at the two valuable museums ; for 
 foreigners take perhaps a deeper interest in the 
 glories of France than do the French themselves. 
 At Malmaison they saw the council-table of the min- 
 isters, Josephine's tapestry-frame and harp, the Em- 
 
IN TB on UVTION. 1 3 
 
 peror's field-desk, the clock that stood in his room at 
 Saint Helena, the little iron bed with green silk cur- 
 tains in which he died. Malmaison had never been 
 so crowded with Adsitors ; but this climax of its fame 
 was not far removed from a probably final decay. 
 
 The janitress, who was in the service of Queen 
 Christina, and has been in the castle ever since, de- 
 scribes the last incidents that have come under notice, 
 with a sort of vigorous and popular eloquence. She 
 says that in 1867 she noticed in the park some Ger- 
 mans in civil dress, who were examining everything 
 about them with the greatest care, and that in the 
 war she saw the same Germans again, this time in 
 uniform, take possession of the castle ; and that a 
 few days before the war broke out, the young Prince 
 Imperial came to visit Malmaison, and that she was 
 struck by his melancholy expression. She adds, that 
 just as he was leaving, a thunder-storm broke forth, 
 and a tree which had been planted by Napoleon and 
 Josephine was half shattered by the lightning. " An 
 evil omen," she said. Then she goes on to tell how 
 they managed to bind up the old tree-trunk ; but that 
 when they began to divide the place into house-lots, 
 in 1879, the tree was cut down and uprooted. At 
 the same time Josephine's descendant, the heir of the 
 Napoleons, was dying in Zulu land. 
 
 After the fall of the Second Empire, the state sold 
 Malmaison to a private person. The park was cut 
 up into lots and sold to different buyers, who are 
 building houses. The fagade of the castle is intact, 
 
14 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 but the interior is in a melancholy state of dilapida- 
 tion, shorn of ornaments, furniture, and hangings. 
 
 Malmaison, which at the beginning of the century- 
 was, as it were, a symbol of France under the Con- 
 sulate; Malmaison, still full of the gigantic plans 
 and the proud dreams of the ambitious hero of 
 Marengo; Malmaison, sacked in 1815 by Bliicher's 
 soldiers, — became in the last war a Prussian barrack. 
 The troops of the victor at Sedan installed them- 
 selves in triumph where the First Consul, in liis mili- 
 tary court, had worn his most martial air. Silent 
 and deserted, Malmaison seems like a tomb. Its bare 
 walls are gloomier than ruins. Yet there is a certain 
 majesty in their bareness. The stones of the castle 
 speak that mysterious language Avhich may be heard 
 in the silence. No man with feeling for poetry or 
 history can enter this house without being filled with 
 respect. One lowers one's voice and steps softly, as 
 if dreading to disturb the sleep of illustrious hosts. 
 The deserted halls seem to be tenanted by phantoms 
 of the past. In the twilight one would say that it is 
 a haunted spot, and haunted by what ghosts ! 
 
 How many cataclysms there have been in France 
 during the last century ! The scythe wielded by war 
 and revolution commits more grievous ravages than 
 those of time. Of all the buildings which were the 
 scene of the last agonies of Louis XVI. and Marie 
 Antoinette, what is now left? The Tuileries are 
 burned. There is not one stone left of the Manage 
 where Louis XVI. was tried, of the Temple tower 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 which served as prison for the unhappy monarch and 
 his family. The little dungeon of the Queen in the 
 Conciergerie alone remains, and the crowds who daily 
 pass through the place of her execution do not know 
 even where the martyr's scaffold stood. And what 
 is left of what one may call the scenery of the con- 
 sular epoch? The house in the rue de la Victoire, 
 whence issued the 18th Brumaire, is destroyed, its 
 very site is not to be determined ; Saint Cloud and the 
 Tuileries ^ are mere stone skeletons. Shells and pe- 
 troleum have destroyed everything. Great stretches 
 of the sky appear through the empty arches, and one 
 would say that these fresh ruins are as old as Pom- 
 peii or Herculaneum. The superb appearance of the 
 two palaces which they were in their splendor is so 
 deeply printed on the memory, that at certain mo- 
 ments one, gazing at the ruins, would think himself 
 the victim of a nightmare, and would expect on 
 waking to find the two monuments as they were 
 before the fire. If Josephine could come back to life, 
 how surprised she would be at this destruction ! 
 What would be her reflections before the ruins of the 
 Tuileries and of Saint Cloud ! What an impression 
 would be produced by Malmaison dilapidated and 
 deserted ! 
 
 Well, if revolutions destroy, let history yet try to 
 build up what they have pitilessly overthrown ! His- 
 tory is a reconsteuction, which will permit us to see 
 
 1 The ruins of the Tuileries have been removed since the above 
 vf as v?ritten. — Tr. 
 
16 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 again with tlie eyes of our soul what we can no longer 
 see with our real eyes, to build up ruins, to people 
 empty halls, to hear amid the silence the echo of con- 
 versation, of the trumpets, of the orchestras of former 
 days. There may reach our ear the distant sound of 
 Josephine's gentle voice which the First Consul used 
 to prefer to the applause of his people and his army. 
 Let us summon forth the image of this woman under 
 the ancient trees which have survived so many disas- 
 ters. While we think of her, we shall gaze at the 
 views which so often charmed her, at the prospect 
 which was for her a consoling friend, at the river 
 which flowed beneath her feet. Let us consult her 
 friends : here are her husband's secretaries, Bourri- 
 enne and M^neval ; here is the lady in waiting, 
 Madame de R^musat ; there is the Duchess of Ab- 
 rantes, Miot de Melito, Rcederer, General de Segur, 
 Thibaudeau, Marmont, Lav alette. After long study 
 of their memoirs, one seems to know the authors, to 
 be near them, in the same room, exchanging ideas 
 with them, listening to their reminiscences, hearing 
 their anecdotes and their talk about the persons and 
 events of bygone days. Let us ask them, in this 
 sketch, to make us understand the character of the 
 wife of the First Consul, and the part she played, 
 to describe to us this jDcriod of four years and a half 
 which was so brilliant and busy, to show us society 
 forming itself anew, with drawing-rooms opening 
 again, the foreign aristocracy resuming its journeys 
 to Paris, the reopening of the opera balls, as luxury, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 elegance, and fashion reassert themselves, while at 
 the same time the populace easily exchanges liberty 
 for glory, and sets a man above every institution. 
 
 Fox said in 1802 that in the person of the First 
 Consul there were three Bonapartes equally worthy 
 of study ; the one of Malmaison, of Saint Cloud, 
 and of the Tuileries. As for Josephine, she was 
 always and everywhere the same : affable, gracious, 
 obliging, always seeking peace, sharing none of the 
 severities, the anger, or the petulance of her hus- 
 band, dissuading him from thoughts of vengeance, 
 anxious to see him kind, generous, and inclined to 
 pity. This modest, disinterested woman, who was 
 essentially tender and good, is one of the most amia- 
 ble and sympathetic figures of history. If her statue 
 has been removed from the avenue leading from the 
 Arch of Triumph which bore her name, her memory 
 at any rate cannot perish. The charm which she 
 exercised upon her contemporaries has survived, and 
 even when one thinks, whether rightly or wrongly, 
 that he has discovered flaws in her private life, one 
 feels an attraction towards her. Whether alive or 
 dead, good women deserve our love. That greatest 
 quality, a woman's real ornament, kindness, would 
 make us pardon many faults. Josephine wished to 
 call forth no tears but those of joy and gratitude. 
 Her ambition was to be Bonaparte's good angel. She 
 often gave him wise advice, and the time of his most 
 earnest devotion to her was that of his greatest suc- 
 cess. 
 
18 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 In our opinion the Consulate is Napoleon's high- 
 water mark ; his fall began with the murder of the 
 Duke of Enghien, the inauguration of the imperial 
 period. From that moment a cloud hangs over his 
 star ; this cloud is at first but a black point, but it 
 grew from year to year, and at last produced the 
 dense gloom of the final catastrophe. It was in vain 
 that Napoleon accumidated crown upon crown for 
 himself and his family ; the glory of the Emperor could 
 not outshine the glory of the citizen. Josephine had 
 a presentiment of this, and the throne filled her with 
 a secret dread. She knew that as her greatness 
 increased, her happiness would diminish, and yearned 
 to descend as much as her husband aspired to rise. 
 
PART I. 
 
 THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 
 
I. 
 
 THE LUXEMBOURG. 
 
 ON the 21st Brumaire, year VIII., there appeared 
 ill the Moniteur the following short paragraph : 
 " Paris, 20th Brumaire. The three Consuls have 
 taken their seats in the Luxembourg. In the even- 
 ing the public buildings and many private houses 
 were illuminated." From the moment of his instal- 
 lation at the Luxembourg the future Caesar regarded 
 himself as the absolute head of the state. " He is a 
 pike who will swallow the two other fish," said 
 Madame de Permont to his mother, Madame Bona- 
 parte. " O Panoria ! " replied Madame Letitia, with 
 reproachful accent, for at this moment she still be- 
 lieved in the genuine republicanism of her son. " The 
 surprising thing," said Edgar Quinet, "is the way 
 in which all combined to blind themselves. In fact, 
 every one was new to servitude. Even those who 
 ran towards it most eagerly imagined that they were 
 acquiring a new form of liberty. . . . Not a day 
 passed without an approach to absolute power, but no 
 one seemed to perceive it." Bonaparte, a sovereign 
 
 in fact, was not yet one in appearance ; he regarded 
 
 21 
 
22 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 republican susceptibility, but gradually, by crafty 
 and astute steps, he began to accustom men to his 
 rule. The old customs begin to reappear one by one. 
 Josephine ceases to be called Citoyenne Bonaparte, 
 and the woman who is soon to be Empress of the 
 French and Queen of Italy is designated as Madame 
 Bonaparte. For a little while there are preserved 
 the names of things which no longer exist, such as 
 liberty and the Republic, and the future Emperor 
 is still called the citizen First Consul. 
 
 Bonaparte occupied in the little Luxembourg the 
 apartment on the ground floor, to the right as one 
 enters from the rue de Vaugirard. His office was near 
 a hidden staircase leading to the first floor, where 
 Josephine lived. After breakfast, which was served 
 at ten o'clock, Bonaparte used to talk for a few min- 
 utes with his aides-de-camp, and then he betook him- 
 self to his work. 
 
 " On leaving the council," says his secretary, Bour- 
 rienne, "he would go to his office singing, and Heaven 
 knows how out of tune he used to sing. He would 
 sign a few letters, stretch himself in his easy-chair, 
 and read a few letters of the evening before and the 
 occasional publications of the day. When there was 
 no council, he would stay in his office and talk with 
 me, always singing and cutting the arm of his chair, 
 sometimes looking like a big boy. Then he would 
 start up, and sketch the plan of some monument 
 which was to be built, or dictate the vast things 
 wdiich were to astonish or appal the world. . . • Din- 
 
THE LUXEMBOURG. 23 
 
 ner was at five o'clock. After dinner the First Con- 
 sul used to go up to Josephine's apartment, where he 
 was accustomed to receive the ministers ; he always 
 took pleasure in seeing the minister of foreign affairs, 
 especially after that portfolio was in the hands of M. 
 de Talleyrand. At midnight, and often earlier, he 
 used to give the signal for breaking up, by saying 
 suddenly, ' Let us go to bed ! ' " 
 
 Josephine began to receive at the Luxembourg 
 people of the old regime. The title of Madame 
 pained more than one Republican who longed for the 
 simpler Citoyemie. " They consoled themselves after- 
 wards at the Tuileries," says Bourrienne, " by using 
 Your Highness, on occasions of great ceremony, and 
 merely Monseigneur in private." The First Consul 
 took the most careful precautions to combine certain 
 revolutionary memories with the symptoms of reac- 
 tion. He abolished the holiday of January 21, the 
 anniversary of the execution of Louis XVL, but 
 he preserved as national holidays the 14th of July 
 and the 1st of Vendemiaire, in memory of the tak- 
 ing of the Bastille and the establishment of the Re- 
 public. He let his wife surround herself with people 
 of the old court, but he married his third sister to a 
 soldier of fortune, the son of an innkeeper ot Cahors. 
 
 It was at the Luxembourg that was celebrated, 
 January 20, 1800, the civil marriage of Caroline 
 Bonaparte with Murat, a general in command of a 
 division. Not till two years later was the nuptial 
 benediction given to the couple, on the occasion of 
 
24 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the marriage of Hortense cle Beauharnais with Louis 
 Bonaparte. Murat, who was born at Cahors, March 
 25, 1771, was not yet twenty-nine years old when he 
 was married. Caroline, who was born at Ajaccio, 
 March 25, 1782, was under eighteen. According to 
 the author of the Recollections of Madame Rx^ca- 
 mier (Madame Recamier was very intimate with 
 Madame Murat), "of all the sisters of Napoleon 
 Caroline was the one who most resembled him. She 
 was not so regularly beautiful as his sister Pauline 
 (Madame Leclerc), but she belonged distinctly to 
 the Napoleonic type ; she was of a marvellously rich 
 coloring; her intelligence was quick, her will impe- 
 rious, and the contrast of tlie girlish grace of her face 
 with the decision of her character made her a very 
 attractive person. She continued to come, as she 
 had done when a young girl, to all the entertain- 
 ments at Madame Recamier's, in the rue du Mont 
 Blanc." This is the j)ortrait which the Duchess of 
 Abrantes drew of her : " Caroline Bonaparte was a 
 very pretty girl, as fresh as a rose, but in no way 
 comparable, in regularity of feature, to Madame 
 Leclerc. Still, she was very attractive on account 
 of her expression and the astounding brilliancy of 
 her complexion. Her skin was like white satin tinted 
 with pink ; her feet, hands, and arms were even per- 
 fect models, her teeth were charming, like those of 
 all the Bonapartes." Prince Metternich, who was a 
 great admirer of her, said of her : " Caroline combined 
 with an agreeable face a rare mind. She had care- 
 
THE LUXEMBOUBG. 25 
 
 fully studied her brother's character, and had no 
 illusion about any of his faults ; she also knew the 
 weak points in her husband's character, and would 
 have guided him if he had submitted to guidance." 
 
 Young, handsome, full of military enthusiasm, 
 Murat shone in the first rank anions: these knio-hts- 
 errant of democracy ; he was one of those illustri- 
 ous plebeians who have no need of ancestors, because 
 they are themselves ancestors. In the whole French 
 army there was not such a proud cavalier. His pro- 
 verbial bravery, his dashing steeds, his rich uniforms, 
 the fire and gayety of his southern nature made him 
 a popular figure. He could not make his appearance 
 on the battle-field or at a review without attracting 
 every eye. Yet, in fact, the First Consul had no 
 sympathy for this brilliant officer. The Duchess 
 of Abrantes thus explains his coolness : " The true 
 cause of Napoleon's moderate friendship for Murat 
 (for in spite of their relationship, he never loved 
 him) was nothing but Murat's rash conduct when 
 he came to Paris to bring the first flags won by the 
 army of Italy. Those who know Napoleon's charac- 
 ter will easily understand how Murat injured himself 
 by quietly boasting of his influence in the Directory, 
 at the Ministry of War, through Madame Bonaparte 
 and Madame Tallien." 
 
 In his Memoirs, Bourrienne refers to the same 
 incident. He says that Madame Bonaparte and 
 Madame Tallien had Murat appointed brigadier-gen- 
 eral ; that on his return to Italy he had incurred the 
 
26 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 disapj)roval of the commander-in-chief; that by the 
 influence of these hidies he obtained a place in the 
 army of Egypt, but that on the voyage thither, on 
 board of the Orient, Bonaparte did not once speak to 
 him. Bourrienne, indeed, goes so far as to insinuate 
 that at Messoudiah, Murat's was one of the two names 
 mentioned by Junot to excite Bonaparte's jealousy 
 and his distrust of Josephine. But the bold officer 
 performed such prodigies of valor, and was notably 
 so conspicuous on the field of Aboukir, that the com- 
 mander-in-chief could not refuse him the expression 
 of his satisfaction. 
 
 Murat's conduct at Saint Cloud on the 19th Bru- 
 maire brought about a perfect reconciliation with 
 Bonaparte, who appointed him commander of the 
 Consular Guard. Nevertheless, when he came to the 
 Luxembourg to ask for the hand of Caroline, Bona- 
 parte at first did not favor his suit. He hesitated to 
 give to a plebeian his sister, who had already been 
 sought by a great Italian nobleman, the Prince of 
 Santa Croce. He thought, too, that there were in 
 the army abler and more famous generals than 
 Murat; as, for example, Moreau and Augereau. But 
 Caroline and Murat had been in love since the Ital- 
 ian campaign, and their marriage was warmly favored 
 by Josephine. 
 
 When Murat made his demand, Bonaparte received 
 him with unbending gravity, and gave no positive 
 answer. In the evening this proposal was the sub- 
 ject of conversation in the drawing-room of the 
 
THE LUXEMBOURG. 27 
 
 Luxembourg. Josephine, Hortense, and Bourrienne 
 warmly pleaded Murat's cause. To their earnest 
 arguments the First Consul replied : " Murat is the 
 son of an innkeeper. In the lofty rank in which for- 
 tune and glory have placed me, I cannot mingle his 
 blood with mine. Besides, there is no hurry ; I will 
 see about it later." Murat's two supporters were 
 not discouraged; they spoke earnestly of his love for 
 Caroline, of his devotion to the First Consul, of his 
 excellent conduct in Egypt. " Yes, I acknowledge," 
 said Bonaparte, " that Murat was superb at Aboukir." 
 Josephine and Hortense redoubled their solicitations, 
 and before the end of the evening the First Consul 
 had given his consent. Before he went to bed he 
 said to Bourrienne, "Well, you ought to be satisfied; 
 and I am, too. On the whole, Murat suits my sister, 
 and then people won't say that I am proud, and 
 seeking grand marriages. If I had given my sister 
 to a npbleman, all your Jacobins Avould have been 
 shrieking out. Counter-revolution." 
 
 According to General de Segur, two considerations 
 had decided the First Consul: "one, which the study 
 of the innermost secrets of the human heart, every- 
 where the same, can alone explain, was the secret 
 satisfaction that he felt at Madame Bonaparte's 
 intercession in favor of the marriage ; the other, 
 which was entirely political, proved the truth of 
 what Napoleon said about himself ; namely, that his 
 ambitious advance was gradual and the result of 
 events ; that his ambition grew always according to 
 
28 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the circumstances, and that finally the lofty height 
 to which it attained was in no way premeditated at 
 the beginning." If, in 1800, he married his sister to 
 the son of an innkeeper, it was because he was not at 
 all sure of becoming one day Emperor, and because 
 he wanted to please the army, reassure the Republi- 
 cans, and give a pledge to the democracy. As Gen- 
 eral de Segur points out, the man who accepted Mu- 
 rat for his brother-in-law was probably not thinking 
 of ever putting on his head the crown of Charle- 
 magne or of allying himself with the house of 
 Austria. 
 
 Bonaparte's regard for the Republican opinions 
 could not last long. It would have had a longer life 
 if public sentiment had shown itself firmer, and there 
 would have been no Emperor if the citizens had not 
 transformed themselves into subjects. 
 
 " What a pleasure for a master," says Edgar Quinet, 
 " to feel beneath his feet the proud spirit of a people 
 which but just now was defying heaven and earth ! 
 That a general, drunk with victory, should impose 
 himself upon a nation which adores him, is in the 
 order of events. That armies which had sworn to 
 live free or die should carry their leader on a shield, 
 is a thing to be read in every history. But that a na- 
 tion should not feel the yoke that is heavy on its neck ; 
 that, far from suffering from it, it should accept it as 
 a benefit and a deliverance ; that the men of liberty, 
 Daunou, Cabanis, Gregoire, and Carnot, even La 
 Fayette, should be the first to glorify their own over- 
 
TILE LUXEMBOURG. 29 
 
 throw ; that they shoukl run to their suicide with no 
 presentiment to warn them; that evidence should 
 not affect them; that the bare sword should not 
 warn them, — all this is a new fact such as the world 
 had not yet seen." Reaction appeared everywhere. 
 Carnot accepted the Ministry of War. The destroyer 
 of the Bastille, Palloy, " the lifelong patriot," cele- 
 brated the accession of the First Consul with a hand- 
 some engraved medallion. The " Almanack of the 
 Nineteenth Century " contained the following dia- 
 logue between Diogenes and a man of the Revolu- 
 tion : — 
 
 "Wliat did you do to be a man ? 
 
 I made the lOtli of August, the 31st of May, the 18th Fruc- 
 tidor, the 30th Prairial. 
 
 You are a mere destroyer ; you are not a man. 
 
 I have worked at three constitutions with which people have 
 become disgusted. 
 
 You are a mere fool. 
 
 I have made more than a hundred speeches from the tribune. 
 
 You are a mere babbler. 
 
 I have understood how to please all parties. 
 
 You ai'e a mere weather-cock. 
 
 I have proposed more than two hundred toasts to equality 
 and fraternity. 
 
 You are a mere sot. 
 
 I cursed Robespierre the eve of his death, and spoke against 
 Barras the 29th Brumaire. 
 
 You are a mere slave. 
 
 T invented some fine phrases about liberty. 
 
 You are a mere rhetorician. 
 
 I wrote a good book on morality. 
 
 You are a mere hypocrite. 
 
30 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 I have had my enemies shot, who were accused of being hos- 
 tile to the state. 
 
 You are a mere monster. 
 I followed orders. 
 You ai-e a hangman. 
 
 The demagogic fniy had died out, and to call a 
 mail a Jacobin Avas the deepest insnlt. The phrases 
 which previously had aroused and inspired the masses 
 now seemed like old-fashioned empty formulas. The 
 following chapter of the " Brief Revolutionary Cate- 
 chism " was on every one's lips: — 
 
 Question. What is the aim of a revolution ? 
 
 Ansicer. To desti'oy in order to change, and to change in 
 order to destroy. 
 
 Q. How many elements are there in a revolution ? 
 
 A . Fonr : deficit, poverty, audacity, and fear. 
 
 Q. How many virtues? 
 
 A. Two: robbery and assassination. 
 
 Q. Who profit by revolutions ? 
 
 A. The rascals and the ambitious. 
 
 Q. What becomes of the people in a revolution? 
 
 ^4. They cut a sorry figure. 
 
 Q. Why so ? 
 
 A. Because whether they take part in it or not, they arc 
 always the victims. 
 
 Q. In what way ? 
 
 ^4. In this way : all means are good for crime in attack, but 
 not for virtue in defence. 
 
 Q. How does a revolution end ? 
 
 A . By an excess of evil, in the blindness of the leaders, and 
 in the awakening of the people. 
 
 Aided by such a state of public opinion, Napoleon 
 himself must have been astonished at the ease and 
 
THE LUXEMBOURG. 31 
 
 rapidity with which liis pLans Avere accomplished. 
 Nevertheless, lie deemed it wise to take man}- 
 precautions in the form, at least, if not in the suh- 
 stance. He preserved some appearance of respect 
 for the ideas and the institutions which he had so 
 often sworn to defend. He saw that if he changed 
 too suddenly, he would be exposed to the bitter re- 
 proaches of his old fellow-soldiers, before Avhom he 
 had so often protested his faith in the Republic. He 
 had seen too clearly the grand and terrible side of 
 the Revolution to trifle with it. Since the hour for 
 throwing off his mask had not yet struck, he as- 
 sumed the appearance of a sort of citizen-king, who, 
 while really the master of France, continued to call 
 himself simply General. He decided to install him- 
 self at the Tuileries ; but the Convention and the 
 Committee of Public Safety had sat there, and the 
 famous palace recalled both I'oyal and revolutionary 
 memories. Besides, it was called the Government 
 Palace ; and since the First Consul was averse to liv- 
 ing there alone, he determined to bring the Third 
 Consul there too, but to establish him in the Pavilion 
 ■of Flora, and take for himself the royal apartments, 
 Avhich had been occupied by Louis XIA^., Louis XV., 
 and Louis XVI. 
 
 While the First Consul was thus aspiring to the 
 palaces of kings, Josephine gave no evidence of any 
 desire to leave tlie Luxembourg, which would have 
 been perfectly satisfactory as a winter residence ; as 
 a summer residence, she could ask for nothing better 
 
32 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 than Malmaison, and she did not care for Saint 
 Cloud or Compiegne or Fontainebleau. 
 
 She was passionately fond of jewels, but she did 
 not care to wear them fastened in a royal crown. 
 She did not deem it necessary to change into ladies- 
 in-waiting those women of the old regime whose 
 society she enjoyed. Singularly enough, she would 
 have been a monarchist, but on the condition that 
 the monarch should not be her husband, and one 
 of her greatest fears was that of seeing Bonaparte 
 become emperor or king. The Tuileries, which were 
 yet full of memories of the 20tli of June, the 10th 
 of August, and of the Convention, seemed to her a 
 fatal residence, and she felt that if she were to live 
 there, she should be assuming a position that did not 
 belong to her, that she would be like a servant tak- 
 ing possession of the master's drawing-room. She 
 said to herself that those who climb too high are 
 exposed to giddiness, and slie feared lofty mountain- 
 tops because of the precipices beneath them. She 
 had presentiments and scruples which made her 
 ref^ret leavinsr first her little house in the rue de la 
 A^ictoire, and then the Luxembourg. But Bonaparte 
 did not trouble himself about Josephine's uneasiness ; 
 he was driven by a secret impulse, by a mysterious 
 and irresistible force, to pursue his onward course 
 swiftly and victoriously. Whatever height of for- 
 tune he reached, it never occurred to him to say, 
 This is enough. The Tuileries will not satisfy him. 
 One day he will want Potsdam, the next the Escu- 
 rial; one day Selioenbrunn, and another the Kremlin. 
 
II. 
 
 THE FORMAL ENTEAJSTCE INTO THE TUILEEIES. 
 
 ON the 30 th Pluviose, year VIII. (February 19, 
 1800), Bonaparte, when he woke up in the 
 Luxembourg, said to his secretary, " Well, Bourrienne, 
 here's the day when we are going to sleep at the Tui- 
 leries. You are very lucky, for you haven't got to 
 make a show of yourself ; you will go your own way. 
 As for me, I have got to go in a procession. It's a 
 great bore ; but we must make a show and impress 
 the people. The Directory was too simple, and so 
 was not respected. Simplicity is all very well in the 
 army; but in a large city, in a palace, the head of 
 the government must attract all eyes in every pos- 
 sible way." 
 
 The Tuileries of Catherine of Medicis, of Louis 
 XIV., of Louis XV., of Louis XVI., of the Conven- 
 tion, is now about to become the Tuileries of the 
 First Consul. His removal to this palace was to 
 show himself as master ; for there is a certain relation 
 between men and public buildings. Bonaparte knew 
 from his instinct of power what an influence a name 
 has on the imagination of the masses. Does not the 
 
 33 
 
3-1 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 man who installs himself in the abode of kings substi- 
 tute himself for them? From the moment when the 
 First Consul occupies a palace, he will necessarily 
 have a court and courtiers. Etiquette will grow up 
 of itself. The friends of childhood and his college 
 comrades will not dare to be too intimate Avith the 
 head of the state. Republican familiarity will dis- 
 appear before the monarchical spirit. The people 
 Avho are accustomed to live on the favors of princes 
 will feel themselves attracted to the Tuileries, as if 
 Bonaparte were a Bourbon. The manners, the ideas, 
 the language of royalty, will gradually reappear. 
 
 At one o'clock in the afternoon all Paris was astir ; 
 every one Avanted to see the procession starting from 
 the Luxembourg for the Tuileries. Madame Bona- 
 parte had already gone there ; since she possessed 
 no claims to royal honors, she had come modestly 
 with her daughter Horteuse and with her daughter- 
 in-law, Madame Murat, and the three stationed them- 
 selves, not on the balcony of the Pavilion of the 
 Clock, Avhich would have been too formal, but at 
 the windows of the apartment of Consul Lebrun, in 
 the Pavilion of Flora. Then the procession arrived 
 with the regiments commanded by Lannes, Murat, 
 and Bessi^res. The three Consuls were in a carriage 
 drawn by six Avhite horses presented to General 
 Bonaparte by the Emperor of Germany after the 
 peace of Campo Formio. The First Consul was on 
 the back seat, Avith Camljaceres at his left and Le- 
 brun opposite. Then foUoAved the Council of State 
 
ENTRANCE INTO THE TUILElilES. o5 
 
 and the senators, most of them in cabs Avith the 
 numbers hidden by pieces of paper. The impressive 
 thing in the procession was the fineness of the troops, 
 — three thousand picked soldiers, all veterans. The 
 whole Carrousel was filled by a dense crowd who 
 shouted wildly, " Long live the First Consul ; long 
 live Bonaparte ! " Every^vhere on the way people 
 were saying, " How young he is ! What a fine head ! 
 What a fine face ! The Emperor of Germany gave 
 him those white horses, and he gave him his sabre 
 too. Do you see Josephine ? She has brought him 
 good luck." 
 
 Patriotic joy shone on every face. The people, 
 the workmen, the poorer classes, were contented. All 
 the social classes, indeed, were united in one com- 
 mon thought. Windows were bought at high prices 
 from which to view this grand spectacle, this review 
 which would become a matter of history. What 
 pretty women ! what rich dresses ! Napoleon was 
 not sincere when he told Bourrienne in the morning 
 that he did not care for this pomp and show. His 
 entrance into the Tuileries would be one of the finest 
 days of his life, full as it was of triumphs. There 
 was a keen joy in hearing the shouts of the populace 
 mingling with those of the troops, and real intoxica- 
 tion in all this military display, in the blare of the 
 trumpets, and the roar of the drums. Starting from 
 nothing, to be everything, what a dream ! and to get 
 to. the topmost pinnacle at thirty years of age, what 
 a wonder it is ! 
 
36 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 The Consular Guard formed a line on both sides from 
 the entrance into tlte Carrousel to the door of the Tui- 
 leries. There was a certain contrast between this imi- 
 tation of royalty and the inscription which still stood 
 there, on the guard-house to the right of the middle 
 grating: "August 10, 1792, Royalty Avas abolished 
 in France, never to reappear." As tliey looked at 
 this inscription, many of the soldiers broke out into 
 denunciation of royalty, with no notion that at this 
 moment they were bringing it back. When they 
 had got into the Tuileries, the troops drew up in 
 order of battle. The Consuls' carriage passed the 
 gateway and stopped. Bonaparte got out quickly and 
 vaulted on the horse which was brought up for him, 
 while Cambac^r^s and Lebrun made their way slowly 
 to the reception rooms. 
 
 He was now in his element, and had become really 
 himself in the jn-esence of the troops, of the men to 
 whom he owed everything. For if he had entered 
 the Tuileries, it was the soldiers who liad led him 
 there; and he acknowledged himself their debtor, 
 for it was through them that he had become all- 
 powerful. Hence he was glad to find himself among 
 his conn)anions in arms, those brave men whose sun- 
 burnt faces recalled many victories. He was happy 
 to see the old bullet-riddled flags, black with powder, 
 and in rags, which were real treasures, holy talis- 
 mans. Was there one of the three thousand soldiers 
 there who would not have given his life to defend 
 these glorious insignia? The marching past began. 
 
ENTRANCE INTO THE TUILKItfES. 37 
 
 and Bonaparte took his place before the Pavilion 
 of the Clock, with Murat at his right and Lannes 
 at his left. The 43d half-brigade advanced, and the 
 color-bearer jialnted the First Consul with the flag 
 which was a mere staff with a few shreds of buntinsr 
 full of bullet-holes. Bonaparte regarded it with re- 
 spect and emotion, taking off his hat and returning 
 the salute. The flags of the 30th and 96th were in 
 the same state. When they passed, Bonaparte saluted 
 them too, and his emotion appeared to increase. All 
 this time his mother was weeping with joy. 
 
 When the review was over, the First Consul de- 
 scended from his horse, entered the Pavilion of the 
 Clock, and ascended briskly the staircase of the 
 king's palace. The next day there was to be read 
 in the Moniteur : "30 l^luviose. Year VIIL The 
 Governmeiit installed itself in its Palace to-day ; the 
 Councillors and Secretaries of State, the Secretary 
 General, the Ministers and the Consuls, all in full 
 dress, drove to the Tuileries, preceded by a band, 
 and accompanied by the stafl' of the 17th Division. 
 The First Consul, alighting from his carriage, 
 mounted his horse, and passed by the lines of the 
 different bodies of troops drawn up in the courtyard. 
 Later, in one of the halls of the Palace, the Minister 
 of the Interior presented to the Consuls the members 
 of the governing boards of Paris. This ceremony 
 was accomplished with perfect ordei-. The public 
 testified its satisfaction by Avarm applause : hope and 
 joy shone on every face." 
 
38 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 Bonaparte then installed himself in the chamber of 
 Louis XIV., the Snnlike King ; Josephine had the 
 room of Marie Antoinette. Who, a few years ear- 
 lier, could have foreseen so strange a thing? When 
 the future conqueror of Areola, obscure in, lost in 
 the crowd, looked in anger at the invading rabble 
 of the 20th of June and the 10th of August, could 
 he have thought that he would so soon take the place 
 at the Tuileries of the sovereign whose humiliations 
 so moved him ? 
 
 The next morning, on entering Bonaparte's room, 
 Bourrienne said to him : " Well, general, here you 
 are at last, without difficulty, with the applause of 
 the people. Do you remember what you said to me 
 two years ago in the rue Sainte Anne ? ' I could 
 make myself king, but it's not yet time.' " " Yes, 
 that is true ; but do you know we have done a good 
 many things since then? On the whole, I am per- 
 fectly satisfied; yesterday went off very well. Do 
 you think that all those people who came to toady 
 me are sincere ? Of course not ; but the joy of the 
 people was genuine. The people are right. And 
 then, you can consult the real thermometer of public 
 opinion. Look at the stocks. So I can let the Jaco- 
 bins grumble ; but they mustn't grumble too loud." 
 
 Then the First Consul dressed and went to stroll 
 in the Gallery of Diana. He looked at the busts 
 which had been placed there by his orders, — Demos- 
 thenes, Alexander, Hannibal, Scipio, Brutus, Cicero, 
 Cato, Csesar, Gustavus Adolphus, Turenne, Cond^, 
 
'' ENTRANCE INTO THE TUILERIES. 39 
 
 Duguay-Trouin, Marlborough, Prince Eugene, Mar- 
 shal Saxe, Washington, Frederick the Great, Mira- 
 beau, and four generals of the Republic who liad been 
 killed in battle, Dugommier, Dampierre, Marceau, 
 and Joubert. Then he passed through the halls, 
 which were full of memories of the youth of Louis 
 XIV., of the childliood of Louis XV., of the agonies 
 of the martyred king and queen, of the bloody rule 
 of Robespierre. In the Pavilion of Flora is the 
 room where the terrible Committee of Public Safety 
 used to sit. At the other .end of the Gallery of 
 Diana is the Council Hall of the Ministry, where 
 were held all the important meetings during the 
 minority of Louis XV., and in the last hours of the 
 monarchy. There is the bed-chaml)er, a showy room, 
 Avhere the Sunlike King used to appear in such 
 majesty, and where the Imperial throne was soon 
 to be ]'aised. It was in the next room that, on 
 the 20th of June, the rioters put the red cap on the 
 liead of Louis XVI. After that is the large room, 
 which under the king used to be called the Hall of 
 the Hundred Swiss, where, at the time of the Con- 
 vention, Robespierre appeared in triumph at the fes- 
 tival of the Supreme Being. In the future this is 
 to be the Hall of the Marshals. As he passed these 
 rooms, Bonaparte, who was deeply impressed, said to 
 Bourrienne : " Getting into the Tuileries isn't every- 
 thing : the thing is to stay here. Who is there who 
 hasn't lived in the palace ? Thieves, and members 
 of the National Convention. Do you see ? There's 
 
40 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 your brother's house. It's from there that I saw 
 them besiege the Tuileries, and carry the good Louis 
 XVI. away. But don"t be uneasy. Let them try it." 
 The same day Bonaparte had the Liberty Trees, 
 which had been planted in the courtyard of the 
 Tuileries, cut down. Liberty was itself disappear- 
 ing, and nothing really takes its place, not even 
 glory. 
 
III. 
 
 THE TUILERIES AT THE BEGESTNING OF THE CON- 
 SULATE. 
 
 THE First Consul installed himself at the Tnile- 
 ries, on the first floor in tliat part which, in the 
 time of Louis XIV., had been called His Majesty's 
 winter apartment. The windows looked upon the 
 garden. The working-room was of moderate size 
 and lit by but one window. This room, by the side 
 of which there was a closet full of maps, opened into 
 a large bedroom, containing a gorgeous bed, Avhich 
 was not that of Louis XVI. '•' I must not forget to 
 say," Bourrienne tells us, " that the First Consul 
 slept there very seldom ; for he troubled himself very 
 little about his quarters, and concerned himself about 
 external luxury only out of calculation, regarding it 
 as a means of impressing people. To speak plainly, 
 Bonaparte, at the Luxembourg, at Malmaison, and 
 during the first part of his stay at the Tuileries, occu- 
 })ied the same room with his wife." Every evening 
 he went down a little staircase to Josephine's apart- 
 ment below, on the ground floor. She had taken 
 the apartment of Marie Antoinette, and had fitted 
 
 41 
 
42 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 it up very simply. By the side of lier dressing-room 
 were the rooms of her daughter Hortense, consisting 
 of a bed-chamber and a httle sitting-room. 
 
 As yet there was no thought of aj^pointing cham- 
 berLains, equerries, and ladies-in-waiting. Public 
 opinion was not prepared for them, and nothing more 
 was demanded than could be performed by State- 
 counsellor Benezech, who was a sort of master of 
 ceremonies in charge of the domestic administration 
 of the palace, and in fact really managed the court. 
 On the occasion of the First Consul's solemn entry 
 into the Tuileries, Josephine had modestly stationed 
 herself at a window of the Pavilion of Flora, but 
 a few days later, the 2d Ventpse, when her husband 
 was receiving the ambassadors of Spain and Rome, 
 the ministers of Prussia, Denmark, Sweden, Baden, 
 and Hesse-Cassel, and the ambassadors of the Cisal- 
 pine, Batavian, Swiss, and Ligurian Republics, she 
 had all the diplomats presented to her, and held a 
 levee very much like a queen. It was Benezech 
 who made the ]3i'esentations. 
 
 This return to the old ways did not fail to dis- 
 please those who still nourished republican senti- 
 ments. Thibaudeau, the author of " Memoirs on 
 the Consulate," says about this: "So high was the 
 respect for the civil magistracies, and so strong the 
 hostility to court etiquette, that the Counsellors of 
 State were scandalized at seeing a former Minister 
 of the Interior, one of their colleagues, with an 
 usher's rod in his hand, playing the part of master 
 
THE TUILERIES. 43 
 
 of ceremonies, and even of head butler of the First 
 Consul. There were as yet no titled servants, called 
 chamberlains ; the aides-de-camp took charge of what 
 would have been their duties, but that had too much 
 the air of the camp. It was clear that the Tuileries 
 required a regular court and fixed etiquette, just as 
 a temple requires priests and service. A court in 
 process of formation was a new sight for most of the 
 spectators as well as for the courtiers themselves." 
 
 At first it was not very easy to make up the society 
 of the Tuileries. The " Memorial of Saint Helena " 
 describes the First Consul's difficulties. Since he 
 had spent the last few years in the army, he knew 
 very few people, and he was continually obliged to 
 consult Consul Lebrun about men and things. The 
 Republicans, and especially the generals, would have 
 been horrified if he had received people who belonged 
 to the old regime, royalists, emigres. All these did 
 not begin at once to mount the grand staircase of 
 the Tuileries, familiar as they grew with it later. 
 Under the pretence of discriminating between the 
 wife and the husband, they began by appearing only 
 on the ground floor, in Josephine's apartments, visit- 
 ingf her in the morninsf. The bankers and business 
 men who set the tone under the Directory, were 
 anxious to gather about Bonaparte ; but the First 
 Consul, who disliked doubtful characters, repelled 
 their advances with some severity. Their wives were 
 pretty, amiable, and charming, but could not fasci- 
 nate him, and he told Josephine not to admit them 
 
44 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 to the Tuileries. It was he who said in regard to 
 the contractors and speculators Avho Avere very influ- 
 ential at the Luxembourg in the time of Barras : 
 " One of the ways in which I most furthered the 
 reaction of society towards the condition and habits 
 of the past was by driving all this false brilliancy 
 back into the crowd; I never wanted to raise one 
 of these men to honor, for of all forms of aristocracy 
 that seemed to me the worst." 
 
 Since the nobility and the bankers were thus ex- 
 cluded, the First Consul could at first have no other 
 society than that of officials, civil and military, and 
 their wives. " At first," he says in his " Memorial 
 of Saint Helena," " everything for a while was like 
 a magic-lantern, very mixed and forever changing. 
 The combination soon acquired a color, a tone of its 
 own, and was by no means without its good side. At 
 Moscow, the Viceroy (Prince Eugene) found some 
 letters of the Princess Dologrouki, who had been 
 in Paris at that time. Slie spoke very well of the 
 Tuileries ; she said it was not exactly a court, but 
 that on the other hand it was not a camp ; that the 
 etiquette and the ways were quite new ; that the First 
 Consul did not carry his hat under his arm, or wear 
 a rapier, to be sure, but that he was not a rough 
 soldier." The ladies who attended these receptions 
 were, for the most part, young, timid, and without 
 experience. of the world; but Madame Bonaparte set 
 them at their ease by her amiable grace and kind- 
 ness, and the young women who at first were intimi- 
 
THE TUILEEIES. 45 
 
 dated by the growing etiquette of a palace, and 
 especially by the rank and glory of the First Consul, 
 gradually acquired familiarity with the customs of 
 good society, and were wise enough to take Josephine 
 for a model. At that time Madame Bonaparte used 
 to give breakfasts from which men were rigorously 
 excluded. 
 
 " In my opinion," said the Duchess of Abrantes, 
 " it was a delightful custom, that of inviting to such 
 entertainments women who were still too timid to be 
 agreeable in a drawing-room in the presence of men 
 so much their superiors as to alarm them. By talk- 
 ing at these informal breakfasts about the fashions, 
 the new plays, the little commonplaces of society, the 
 young women acquired courage, and ceased to be 
 mere wallflowers in the drawing-room of the First 
 Consul, when he sought distraction there. Madame 
 Bonaparte did the honors of the breakfast with 
 charming grace. Generally there were about half-a- 
 dozen of us, and all, wdth the exception of our hostess, 
 of about the same age." 
 
 Let us once more consult the Duchess of Abrantes, 
 whose graceful, womanly jMemoirs, and "• History of 
 the Paris Drawing-rooms," with its curious and 
 amusing details, give a most vivid and attractive 
 picture of this period. In the chapter called 
 " Madame Bonaparte's Drawing-room," she describes 
 all the women who were intimately allied with Jo- 
 sephine in 1800 and 1801. There was Madame de 
 La Rochefoucauld, " a little hunchback, a very kind 
 
46 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 woman, although witty," who was related to the 
 family of Beauharnais ; then Madame de La Valette, 
 "sweet, good, always pretty, in spite of the small- 
 pox, and of the many who found her too handsome 
 notwithstanding her misfortune." And Madame de 
 Lameth, " round as a ball and bearded, — two unat- 
 tractive things in a woman, but good and witty, — two 
 very attractive qualities " ; then Madame de Lauriston, 
 " kind to every one and generally popular " ; Madame 
 de Remusat, " a superior woman and very charming 
 to those who understood her " ; Madame de Talhonet, 
 " who remembered too Avell that she had been pretty, 
 and forgot that she was so no longer " ; and Madame 
 d'Harville, "systematically impolite, and only polite 
 by accident." 
 
 The intimate friends of Madame Bonaparte used 
 to meet in the drawing-room on the ground floor, 
 and the official visitors used to appear on the first 
 flight, in the grand reception rooms. But there 
 were many different types, curious combinations, and 
 striking contrasts even in the society downstairs. 
 All opinions met there. An Emigre just a few days 
 returned would sit by the side of a former member 
 of the Convention, who a few years earlier had con- 
 demned him to death; a Republican general would 
 elbow a member of the Vendean army ; but, by her 
 exquisite tact, Josephine was able to enforce, if not 
 peace, at least a truce between men whose antece- 
 dents seemed to make them irreconcilable enemies, 
 and from the beginning of the Consulate she worked 
 
THE TUILERIES. 47 
 
 more energetically than any one to bring about the 
 reconciliation and fusion which her husband desired. 
 
 The great receptions of the first floor were called 
 mobs by those who had admission to the ground floor. 
 Every decade, or week of ten days, there was served, 
 in the Gallery of Diana, a dinner of two hundred 
 plates. The senators and the generals were received 
 on the second day of the decade ; the members of the 
 Legislature, on the fourth day ; the Tribunes and the 
 members of the Court of Appeal, on the sixth day. 
 
 The question of a consulate for life, or of making 
 the position hereditary, had not yet arisen. The 
 First Consul, who was not called the President of the 
 Republic, was, according to the constitution, merely 
 a temporary magistrate, whose powers were limited 
 to a period of ten years, and who shared the govern- 
 ment with two colleagues, called, like him, consuls. 
 But if we examine the state of affairs, what is 
 Cambac^res, what is Lebrun, in comparison with the 
 sun of which they are the satellites? In all the 
 receptions and important functions Bonaparte is the 
 only one who is looked at ; everywhere and always, 
 as the poet said later. Any one who wishes to get 
 an idea of this man's ascendancy has only to consider 
 what took place every fifth day at noon in the court- 
 yard. It was the favorite spectacle of the Parisians, 
 and the great attraction for the provincials and for- 
 eigners who happened to be in Paris. In I'rance 
 nothing produces so strong an impression as the sight 
 of the warriors who flatter its national pride and its 
 
48 THE WIFE OF TUE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 warlike instincts. At the sight of such soldiers the 
 whole people grew enthusiastic, and felt themselves 
 capable of unheard-of prodigies. It seemed as if they 
 could defy all Europe, and they were tempted to cry 
 out, like their ancestors, the Gauls, " There is only 
 one thing I fear : that the heavens will fall." They 
 said to themselves, " We are a great nation." 
 
 All the regiments came in turn to Paris to take 
 part in the reviews on every fifth day of the decade 
 before the First Consul. They dazzled the capital, 
 and the capital dazzled them. Parisians and soldiers 
 got on very well together, and after the review re- 
 tained very pleasant memories of each other. Thi- 
 baudeau shows us Bonaparte, one moment on foot, 
 the next on horseback, going through the ranks to 
 make acquaintance with the officers and soldiers, and 
 to let them learn to know liim, interesting himself in 
 the pettiest details of their equipment, their arma- 
 ment, and drill, busying himself indefatigably with 
 everything that concerned the welfare of his troops, 
 welcoming his former companions in Italy, and ad- 
 dressing them with some flattering speech that drove 
 them wild with enthusiasm. " It was interesting to 
 see," says Madame de Remusat, "how well he under- 
 stood how to talk with the soldiers, how he would 
 ask one soldier after another about his campaigns or 
 his wounds. ... I have heard Madame Bonaparte 
 say that he was accustomed to study every evening, 
 when he was going to bed, the army lists. He would 
 sleep on the names of the corps, and on those of some 
 
THE TUILERIES. 49 
 
 of the men who composed the corps, retaining them 
 in a corner of his memory ; and in this way he had 
 the wonderfnl gift of recognizing the soldiers and of 
 giving them the pleasure of being picked out by their 
 commander. In talking with the men he assumed 
 a tone of good-fellowship which delighted them ; he 
 addressed each one with thou, and recalled the feats 
 of arms they had performed together." 
 
 This was the time when, preser^dng some of the 
 republican familiarity, he wrote to the non-commis- 
 sioned officer. Sergeant Leon Aune of the Grenadiers, 
 the following letter : " I have received your letter, 
 my dear comrade ; you don't need to tell me what 
 you have doire ; I know very well you are one of 
 the bravest grenadiers in the army since the death of 
 Benezeth. You received one of the hundred sabres 
 of honor wliich I had distributed. All the soldiers 
 of your corps agreed that you were the one who de- 
 served it most. I am very anxious to see you again. 
 The Minister of War sends you an order to come to 
 Paris." Never, excfept perhaps among the members 
 of Csesar's legions, has there been seen such a fanat- 
 ical love of military life. Second lieutenants would 
 not have given up their epaulettes for millions. 
 Every officer, every soldier, was proud of his uni- 
 form, of his regiment, of his colors. No one has 
 ever understood better than Bonaparte how to impress 
 the imagination of the soldier. He controlled him 
 with a word, with a glance, and appeared to him like 
 a supernatural being, like a demi-god. Even after 
 
50 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 liis defeats he preserved his authority ; what must it 
 have been when his comrades who had always seen 
 him victorious tliought Mm always invincible? Each 
 one of the fifth day reviews was a new apotheosis for 
 him. " If it happened to rain, or if the day was 
 cloudy," says Thibaudeau, an eye-witness, " it often 
 happened that at the moment Bonaparte appeared 
 the rain stopped, the clouds broke, and the sun shone 
 out. The multitude, always greedy of miracles, and 
 the courtiers, always profuse in flattery, used to cry 
 out, ' The First Consul controls the elements ! ' " 
 
 The wife of General Junot, afterwards the Duchess 
 of Abrantes, describes one of these reviews which 
 greatly delighted her. A little before noon, Jose- 
 phine, her daughter, Hortense cle Beauharnais, her 
 sisters-in-law, a number of pretty women, of officials, 
 of distinguished strangers, appeared at the palace 
 windows. After the parade, sixteen magnificent 
 horses, the gift of the King of Spain, were to be 
 presented to the First Consul. The officers walked 
 up and down among the soldiers, speaking to them 
 from time to time, in a low voice, to correct a faulty 
 position or some trifle in their dress. Every one was 
 most zealous, for the First Consul must be satisfied. 
 The trumpets sounded, the drums beat, and Bona- 
 parte appeared on his white horse. Desire. His sol- 
 diers gazed at him with an expression wliich seemed 
 to say, " Yes, we will die that France may be great, 
 and its name the first in the world. Whither shall 
 we go? We are ready." He stopped beneath the 
 
THE TUILERIES. 51 
 
 window at whicli Madame Juiiot happened to be with 
 some ladies, and turning to a young drummer who 
 seemed to be about sixteen or seventeen years okl, he 
 said, " So, my boy, it was you who beat the charge at 
 Ziirich with a bullet through your right arm ? " The 
 little drummer blushed, and answered, " Yes, Gen- 
 eral." " And it's you, too, who showed great pres- 
 ence of mind at Weser ? " The boy blushed more 
 deeply, and answered in a lower voice, "Yes, Gen- 
 eral." " Well, I ought to pay the country's debt. 
 You shall receive, not a drumstick of honor, but a 
 sabre of honor. I appoint you a non-commissioned 
 officer in the Consular Guard. Go on as well as you 
 have begun, and I shall take care of you." Then 
 the First Consul, with a pleasant smile, touched his 
 hat to the ladies, who had been listening to him. The 
 little drummer was as pale as death with emotion, 
 but his face is eloquent. He may have grown pale 
 before Bonaparte, but he would not turn pafe before 
 the enemy. 
 
IV. 
 
 PARISIAN SOCIETY IN THE YEAR VHI. 
 
 PARIS, in 1800, knew only two passions, — glory 
 and pleasure. The once magic word, liberty, 
 was now scarcely ever on men's lips, except as a 
 matter of habit. The great city, always fickle in 
 its tastes and emotions, was now thoroughly weary 
 of politics, of parliamentary disputes, of clubs, news- 
 papers, and outbreaks, and had become totally indif- 
 ferent to all these tilings which a short time previous 
 used to arouse it to fury. It scarcely remembered 
 that it had been torn by a revolution. Edgar Quinet 
 has described most admirably the state of feeling at 
 the beginning of the Consulate, and he is borne out 
 by all the contemporary authorities. " When men," 
 he says, " after a heroic effort, are tired of the duties 
 of freedom, and suddenly abandon the control of 
 themselves, they experience a singular sensation of 
 relief. There are many instances of this in anti- 
 quity. After centuries of civil war, the Romans felt 
 a profound peace, a happy satisfaction, in laying their 
 conscience in the hands of a master. Tlie French 
 felt something^ of the sort after the events of the 
 52 
 
PABISIAN SOCIETY IN THE YEAR VIII. 53 
 
 18th Brumaire, which relieved them of the care of 
 their own destinies. Doubtless this period is, except 
 for the lack of dignity, one of the happiest in the 
 memory of man." People began to say that, after 
 all, the guillotine was not ornamental in a public 
 square, and that a well-dressed, well-drilled regiment 
 was far superior to a rabble of men with pikes ; that, 
 as its name implies, the Reign of Terror is the most 
 disagreeable and alarming of systems of government; 
 that Paris will never be a really austere city ; that a 
 good dinner is better than the black broth of Sparta ; 
 that a pretty woman who chats is far preferable to 
 a speech-making tribune ; people began to see some 
 merit in the good old times ; they acknowledged that 
 social entertainments, life in the drawing-room, in 
 the castles, that courtesy, gallantry, French gayety, 
 songs, theatres, balls, and all the amusements which 
 for centuries had been the joy and pride of the great 
 capital were, after all, really indispensable. The re- 
 action was as marked as the Revolution had been ; 
 and it was just because Madame Bonaparte was a 
 woman of the old regime that she so well pleased 
 Parisian society, which asked nothing better than to 
 go back to the customs and pleasures of the past. 
 
 The official world set the fashion of festivity, and 
 the winter was tolerably gay. Especially successful 
 were the balls of Lucien Bonaparte, who occupied 
 the sumptuous Brissac mansion, as Minister of the 
 Interior. He was then in love with the fashionable 
 beauty, Madame Recamier, the most charming woman 
 
54 THE WIFE OF THE FIB8T CONSUL. 
 
 in Paris. Since her first name was Juliette, he ex- 
 pressed his devotion under the iDseudonym of Romeo : 
 " Romeo writes to you, Juliette ; if you should refuse 
 to read him, you would be more cruel than our rela- 
 tives, who have just become reconciled. ... O Juli- 
 ette ! life without love is only a long sleep. The love- 
 liest of women ought to be tender-hearted. Happy 
 the man who shall become the friend of your heart ! " 
 It seems that Madame Recamier did not let herself 
 be moved by Lucien, although she was much flattered 
 by his attentions. Her husband, moreover, advised 
 her to be gentle with the brother of the First Consul. 
 So Madame Recamier was one of the principal orna- 
 ments of the balls given by the Minister of the Inte- 
 rior. The author of the delightful book, " Recollec- 
 tions of Madame Recamier," tells us that she produced 
 a very great effect at a dinner, followed by a concert, 
 which Lucien gave to his brother, General Bonaparte. 
 " She was dressed in white satin, and wore a neck- 
 lace and bracelets of pearls, as if she took a certain 
 satisfaction in covering herself with things conspicu- 
 ous for their whiteness, in order to efface them by 
 the beauty of her complexion." Fouche, the member 
 of the Convention, afterwards the Duke of Otranto, 
 came behind the chair in which she sat, and said to 
 her in a low tone, " The First Consul finds you charm- 
 ing." 
 
 At that moment Napoleon was holding the hand 
 of one of Lucien's daughters, a little girl of not more 
 than four, and in talking he thought no more about 
 
PABISIAN SOCIETY IN THE YEAR VIII. 55 
 
 the child, who grew tired of her captivity and began 
 to cry. " Oil ! you poor little thing," said the First 
 Consul, with genuine pity ; "■ I had forgotten you." 
 Lucien had gone up to Madame R^camier, and Napo- 
 leon, who knew all about his brother's devotion, said 
 quite loud, " I should like to go to Clichy myself." 
 (Clichy was where Madame Recamier lived.) Din- 
 ner Avas announced, and Napoleon went in first with- 
 out offering his arm to any one of the ladies. He 
 placed his mother on his right, and the place on his 
 left remained empty, no one daring to take it. Then 
 he turned towards the guests who Avere still standing, 
 and said suddenly to Garat, the singer, " Well, Garat, 
 sit down here." At the same moment Cambac^r^s 
 took the place next to Madame Recamier, and Napo- 
 leon called out, "Ah, citizen Consul, next to the 
 handsomest woman ! " After dinner he asked Mad- 
 ame Recamier, " Why didn't you sit next to me ? " 
 "I should not have dared," she replied. He an- 
 swered, "It was your place." 
 
 Madame Mechin, Madame R^gnault de Saint-Jean- 
 d'Angely, and Madame Visconti shone, even by the 
 side of Madame Recamier, at the balls of the Minis- 
 ter of the Interior. The First Consul's three sisters 
 were like princesses on those occasions. Josephine, 
 in her seat at the end of the gallery, already assumed 
 the bearing of a sovereign. The women all rose when 
 she entered the ball-room and when she left. Besides 
 the entertainments of official society, there were those 
 of the great bankers, Messrs. Perregaux, Seguin, 
 
56 THE WlFi: OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 Hainguerlot, R^camier, who renewed the traditions 
 of the farmers-general. The l^^uil)Ourg Saint Germain 
 was not yet reconstituted, and the aristocracy gave 
 no entertainments, but they amused themselves never- 
 theless ; there were Garat's concerts, the theatre, 
 dinners, Tivoli, Frascati, and the Hanoverian Pavil- 
 ion. .\11 classes of society were eager for pleasure, 
 and dancing was especially the rage. " Next to 
 money," says a contemporary pamphlet, "the dance 
 has become the idol of the Parisians. With small 
 and great, with rich and jmor, it has become a univer- 
 sal passion. There is dancing at the Carmes, where 
 the crowds are enormous ; at the Jesuits' College ; at 
 the Seminary of Saint Sulpice ; at the Filles Sainte 
 Marie ; in three or four churches ; at Ruggieri's, 
 Lucquet's, jNIanduit's, Wentzel's ; at the Thelusson 
 mansion.'' 
 
 The reopening of the Ojiera balls Avas the great 
 attraction of the Carnival in 1800. For ten years the 
 Parisians had been deprived of this favorite pleasure. 
 In a period of furious hatred and of general slaughter, 
 a masked ball would have been an impossibility. 
 Under the rule of Robespierre the si)ies would not 
 have respected the secrecy and security of a mask. 
 The knife of the guillotine would have been the 
 punishment of a witticism. And after the Terror, men 
 were still so excited that those who wore a mask 
 Avould have been exposed to the bitterest recrimina- 
 tions and the most violent abuse. Bonaparte, who 
 was dreaming of the triumph of a policy of concilia- 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN THE YEAR VIII. 57 
 
 tion and kision, thought that under his government 
 the Opera balls had become once more possible, and 
 would even further the work of appeasement which 
 was part of his plan. He was not mistaken : the re- 
 opeinng of the Opera balls seemed to him an event of 
 real social importance. Hence it Avas that he had 
 two long articles, which to-day are a real historical 
 curiosity, inserted on the first page of the Moniteur 
 Universel^ in the numbers of the 8th and 9th of Ven- 
 tose, year VHI. (February 26 and 27, 1800). "The 
 Opera House is open," it is stated in the first of these 
 articles, " it is crowxled ; people arrive in dense crowds ; 
 five or six thousand persons are massed in a space too 
 small to hold them. Thousands of different disguises, 
 thousands of elegant, odd, or amusing costumes, call 
 forth jests and merry-making ; satire has free scope, 
 and nothing is heard but laughter ; all faces are lit 
 with joy and confidence ; a leader of the riding-school, 
 without a mask, elbows a returned exile." The offi- 
 cial sheet, which saw in this ball a sign that the vari- 
 ous parties were laying down their arms, adds with 
 keen satisfaction : " It is a curious and touching pic- 
 ture, less interesting for the times it recalls than for 
 those it foretells. It shows that the revolutionary 
 leaA^en has ceased to ferment ; that Frenchmen, tired 
 of hatred and fear, now only care to join hands and 
 forgive one another." 
 
 Enthusiastic over these happy results, the Moniteur 
 thus apostrophized the foes of the new regime : " Pu- 
 pils of Chaumette and Marat, go and count the receipts 
 
58 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 at the opera ; consider that the twenty -five or thirty 
 thousand francs, paid in at the door, will carry com- 
 fort and happiness in a hundred families of actors or 
 workmen connected with this theatre ; calculate how 
 much the shop-keepers of Paris have made out of 
 those expensive costumes, those disguises hired for 
 large sums (it is estimated that dominoes were let 
 for twenty-five, thirty-six, and as much as forty-eiglit 
 francs), out of the carriages which were insuificient 
 in number to accommodate those who sought them." 
 Of course the Moniteur took pains to give Bonaparte 
 credit for all this : " When some of the persons of 
 the First Consul's family were seen at this entertain- 
 ment, it was supposed that he had himself come to 
 look from a grated box upon the scene, which might 
 well have given him the sensation of noble vanity. 
 Every one who thought that he saw him Avould have 
 had a chance to say, ' Nobis haec otia f uit. ' " 
 
 The other article, of the 9th of Ventose, expressed 
 the same satisfaction, although there are some re- 
 serves in regard to the unfamiliarity of some Pari- 
 sians with masked balls : " These scenes of coquetry 
 have their rules which ought to be known, and a lan- 
 guage of their own, which ought to be every one's 
 possession, but it must be said that among the Pari- 
 sians of the present day, some have never known the 
 manners of a masquerade, and others have forgotten 
 them. A mask, moreover, implies a role ; a role pre- 
 supposes an actor, and not every one is an actor, and 
 consequently among the crowd of maskers many 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN THE YEAB VIII. 59 
 
 seemed to have forgotten their names and their char- 
 acters. We saw a good many undignified Spaniards, 
 ungraceful dancing-girls, commonplace Orientals ; we 
 saAV discreet nuns, silent lawyers, solemn clowns, and 
 statue-like Harlequins." 
 
 The Moniteur consoled itself with the hope of 
 speedy improvement : " This is a misfortune," it says ; 
 "but confiding in the native intelligence of the happy 
 Parisians, we feel sure that they will soon find once 
 more the talents required by these new sports : there 
 is no occasion for uneasiness." 
 
 Women of the highest society went in great num- 
 bers to the Opera balls. They wore masks and domi- 
 noes, and amused themselves with the men of their 
 acquaintance, Avho went in dress suits, Avithout masks. 
 Madame Recainier, who was very timid when her 
 face was visible, became lively and sportive behind a 
 domino. Madame de Stael, on the other hand, as 
 soon as she was masked, lost her usual high spirits 
 and eloquence. In Paris, nothing was talked about 
 but the Opera balls which delighted every one. The 
 young were delighted to see an entertainment which 
 they had so often heard warmly spoken of, while 
 their elders hoped in the lamplight to go back ten 
 years, and liked to fancy that the horrors of the 
 Revolution were only a bad dream which vanished 
 at the sound of the joyous music. 
 
 While Paris was thus happy in feeling itself still 
 frivolous, and was trying to make up for time lost 
 in the way of distractions and pleasures, the emigres 
 
60 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 who were compelled to conceal themselves under 
 false names, began to make their way back to the 
 city where so many different things had hapjDcned 
 since their departure. It was a great joy to them to 
 see once more their native soil ; but there was much 
 sadness mingled with it. Chateaubriand has de- 
 scribed his return. It was one Sunday, at about 
 three in the afternoon, that the future author of the 
 " Genius of Christianity " entered Paris on foot by 
 the gate of the Etoile, after an absence of eight years. 
 Poor and obscure, no one recognized him. "We 
 have now no idea," he says, " of the impression that 
 the excesses of the Revolution made upon the minds 
 of men throughout Europe, and especially upon those 
 away from France during the Terror. It seemed to 
 me as if I were actually about to descend into hell." 
 To his great surprise, he heard violins, horns, clari- 
 onets, and drums. As he passed down the Champs 
 Elysees, he saw little halls where men and women 
 were dancing. The Place Louis XV. seemed to him 
 an accursed spot : " It was dilapidated, as melancholy 
 and deserted as an old amphitheatre." Before the 
 place where stood the scaffold of Louis XVI. he was 
 overcome by profound emotion. " I was afraid," he 
 says, " of stepping in the blood of which no trace 
 was left. ... I imagined that I saw my brother 
 and my sister-in-law, with their hands bound, near 
 the bloody instrument. ... In spite of the merri- 
 ment of the streets, the church-towers were dumb; 
 I seemed to have got back on some day of great 
 solemnity, like Good Friday." 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IJV THE YEAB VIIL (Jl 
 
 In her iMemoirs, ]Madame de Genlis has also Avell 
 described lier return, her emotion when she crossed 
 the frontier and entered into France, when she heard 
 the people speaking French, when she drew near Paris 
 and made out from a distance the towers of Notre 
 Dame, Avhen she found hoAV the city had changed 
 during her absence. Everything seemed novel ; she 
 was like a foreigner whose curiosity stops her at 
 every step. The names of the streets were changed. 
 Cabs passed her which she recognized as confiscated 
 carriages of her friends. She entered a little second- 
 hand shop where were some twenty portraits. "I 
 recognized them all, and my eyes filled with tears as 
 I thought that three-quarters of the nobles they rep- 
 resented had been guillotined, and that the others, 
 robbed of every penny and exiled, were perhaps still 
 wandering in foreign lands." 
 
 What consoled Madame de Genlis for so many 
 sorrows was the military glory of France. " I was 
 glad to meet the son of one of my gamekeepers, now 
 a captain, who had served in our successful armies 
 with great distinction. His fine bearing and his mar- 
 tial air reminded me of what La Rochefoucauld had 
 said: 'Vulgarity is never lost at court; it always is 
 in the army.' " The emigres who returned soon 
 grew accustomed to the new regime. They used to 
 talk calmly with the murderers of their relatives. 
 Jacobins and the men of Coblenz used to meet every 
 day in the theatres, in the promenades, and a sort of 
 calm succeeded the paroxysm of wrath and hatred. 
 
62 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 As Chateaubriand said, "Bonaparte put the Brutuses 
 and Scsevolas into the police, and set about adorning 
 them with ribands, and degrading them with titles, 
 compelling them to betray their opinions and to dis- 
 honor their crimes. Day by day there went on the 
 metamorphosis of the tyranny of all into the tyranny 
 of a single man." 
 
V. 
 
 THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 
 
 THE consular government was very strong in 
 1800, and yet it could not have survived a de- 
 feat ; the baptism of victory was absolutely necessary 
 to its existence. If the First Consul had been beaten 
 at Marengo, all the recefit framework of his power 
 and glory would have fallen like a house of cards. 
 He was well aware of this, and before he started for 
 the second Italian campaign he said that he was 
 staking everything for everything. In spite of an 
 apparent truce the parties had not disarmed, and they 
 awaited with impatience the course of events on the 
 other side of the Alps. Royalists, Jacobins, bankers, 
 speculators, wondered most anxiously what would be 
 the result of Bonaparte's new challenge to fortune. 
 His political foes pictured him already beaten, over- 
 thrown, perhaps slain, and formed a thousand plans, 
 as if the succession were already open. All this 
 agitation was of brief duration, Bonaparte left Paris 
 May 6, 1800 ; he returned July 2. In less than two 
 months he had accomplished great things. 
 
 As was usual with him, the conqueror had the gift 
 
 63 
 
64 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 of setting his victories before the public. Everything 
 was arranged for arousing the Parisians, the modern 
 Athenians, for ini[)ressing their imagination. Gen- 
 eral de S6gur })uts it thus: "We are all young, sol- 
 diers and generals. A third of our number were fresh 
 recruits. The oldest had had but eight years' expe- 
 rience. A threefold spring, — that of the year, of 
 our life, of glory, — the rivalry within us and about us, 
 inspired us." This imitation of Hannibal, the cross- 
 ing of the Alps, a bold undertaking, an army defiling 
 man by man, one by one, by the goat-paths, over the 
 eternal snows ; the artillery taken to pieces ; the 
 cannon dragged by ropes ; every soldier, every horse, 
 in danger of death at the least misstep ; the Saint 
 Bernard, with its monks and dogs ; the avalanches, 
 the preci})ices ; the sudden entrance into the plains 
 of Italy; the day of Marengo, so hotly contested; the 
 heroic and touching death of the brave Desaix ; Italy 
 won back in a campaign of a few days, — this new 
 heroic history worthy of antiquity was the general 
 subject of conversation, and aroused every one's 
 enthusiasm. Never, at any period of his life, was 
 Napoleon so popular, and 3'et he was not sated with 
 his glory. On his way to Paris, through Burgundy, 
 he said to Bourrienne, " AVell, a few grand deeds like 
 this campaign, and I may be known to posterity." 
 " It seems to me," was the answer, " that you have 
 already done enough to be talked about everywhere 
 for some time." " Done enough ! '' said the hero of 
 Marengo ; " You are very kind ! To be sure, in less 
 
THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 65 
 
 than two years I have conquered Cairo, Paris, and 
 Mihxn ; well, my dear fellow, if I were to die to- 
 morrow, after ten centuries I shouldn't fill half a 
 page in a universal history." 
 
 Bonaparte passed through France amid ovations. 
 At Dijon he Avas congratulated by a company of 
 young women wearing flowers in their hair, who 
 resembled the groups of women who, in the days of 
 ancient Greece, used to dance about the victor in the 
 Olympic games. At Sens he passed beneath a tri- 
 umphant arch on which was inscribed the three his- 
 toric words, " Veni, vidi, vici." When he re-entered 
 Paris, in the night of July 2, the enthusiasm was 
 indescribable. All, rich and poor, rejoiced, and the 
 next day a vast crowd gathered in the Tuiieries 
 gardens. 
 
 Every one wanted to see the conquering hero. 
 When the chief officials of the state came to congrat- 
 ulate him, he said to them : " Well, have you done 
 much work while I was away?" And they an- 
 swered, " Not so much as you, General." In the 
 evening the whole city was illuminated, and without 
 orders ; every window, even to the garrets, showed 
 a light. Twenty years later, at Saint Helena, Napo- 
 leon spoke of this day as one of the proudest and 
 happiest of his life. 
 
 He was delighted to see Josephine again; not a 
 cloud had at that time arisen between them, and their 
 union was a real model of reciprocal affection. The 
 hero of Marengo felt that this woman, whom he dearly 
 
66 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 loved, was liis good angel. " Boiirrienne," he said to 
 his secretary, " do you hear the hurrahs of the popu- 
 lace which have not stopped yet? It is as sweet 
 to me as the sound of Josephine's voice." As La 
 Bruyere puts it : " The sweetest sound in nature is 
 that of the voice of the woman we love." 
 
 Bonaparte's ambition had never been more satis- 
 fied, and never had the national pride of France been 
 more flattered. " Military glor}^" to quote from 
 Miot de M^lito, " was not yet a burden to the citi- 
 zens, because the soldiers and officers came from all 
 ranks of society without distinction, and returned to 
 them without disturbance. The army belonged to 
 the country, and its victories, in appearance at least, 
 profited the country alone : it had not yet become the 
 property of the Head of the State. What, then, was 
 needed to assure this prosperity ? What was lacking 
 to give Europe the example of a great nation, regen- 
 erated, in the enjoyment of freedom without license, 
 triumphant under skilful leaders, and yet not their 
 slave ? A Washington." And he adds sadly, " The 
 man on whom our destinies depended professed to 
 carry us back into the old paths ; and unfortunately 
 for him as for us, he was only too ingenious, and too 
 much aided in this undertaking." 
 
 In 1800 Bonaparte, apparently at least, was still a 
 Republican. Twelve days after his return to Paris 
 occurred the national festival of July 14, the anni- 
 versary of the taking of the Bastille and of the Feder- 
 ation. This festival, one of the finest which had ever 
 
THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 67 
 
 been seen in Paris, still preserved its democratic and 
 military character. The people and the army joined 
 hands. The Consular Guard, which had left Milan 
 June 22, had been ordered to get to Paris in the 
 morning of July 14. At Geneva it was invited by 
 the authorities to a great banquet; and each officer 
 found a laurel wreath under his napkin, with a poem 
 by JNIadame de Stael, who did the honors. The 
 Guard, to which had been entrusted the care of bring- 
 ing the Austrian flags captured at Marengo, was 
 exact at the rendezvous appointed by the First Con- 
 sul. At ten o'clock in the morning of July 14, it 
 was in the courtyard of the Tuileries, whence it de- 
 parted for the Invalides, and then for the Champ de 
 Mars. Prince Eugene, who belonged to it, says in 
 his Memoirs, " The members of the Guard who had 
 been left on duty in Paris presented a striking con- 
 trast, with their neat and smart appearance, to the 
 troops just back from Italy, who were all gaunt, 
 worn, and covered with dust. This contrast only re- 
 doubled the enthusiasm and respect of the Parisians, 
 which the mere presence of the soldiers had evoked. 
 It was one of the proudest moments of my life." 
 Josephine was very happy to see her son taking part 
 in such a triumph. 
 
 The celebration was held at the Invalides, the 
 chapel of which was called the Temple of Mars. 
 Lucien Bonaparte, as Minister of the Interior, made 
 a speech, full of republican sentiment. Doubtless he 
 remembered that at Saint Cloud on the 19th Brumaire 
 
68 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 he liad sworn to kill liis brother with his sword if he 
 should ever lay a hand upon the liberties of France. 
 He uttered a warm eulogy of the Revolution, and 
 spoke of the capture of the Bastille : " The Bastille 
 is taken, O France ! Republic, cemented by the blood 
 of heroes and martyrs, may Liberty, more precious 
 for what it has cost us, and Peace, healer of every 
 evil, be forever thy preserving deities ! " By a sin- 
 gular association of ideas, the brother of the First 
 Consul combined the 14tli of July and the 18th of 
 Brumaire. " The IStli Brumaire completed the work 
 of July 14. All that the earlier day destroyed shall 
 never be renewed ; all that the later has built up is 
 never to be destroyed. . . . Frenchmen, let us bear 
 with pride the name of the great people ; let this 
 name be an object of universal love and admiration, 
 so that in the remotest ages the heroes of the 14tli 
 of July, the defenders and supporters of the Empire, 
 may be held up to the respect of our descendants, 
 and so that the Republic founded by their efforts 
 may be as eternal as their glory." 
 
 The word Umpire is, perhaps, a little startling in 
 this passage. It sounds like a prophecy, but it must 
 be remembered that in 1800 it was regarded as syn- 
 onymous with state. The celebrated song, "Let us 
 guard the Welfare of the Empire," was written by 
 Republicans in the days of the Republic. It was a 
 national hymn. 
 
 AVhen Lucien had finished, three bands played 
 simultaneously the "Song of the 25th Messidor" 
 
THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 69 
 
 (July 14), the words by Citizen Fontanes, the music 
 by Citizen M^hul. It was the first time that the 
 experiment had been tried of a concert by three 
 bands at some distance from one another. The solos 
 and choruses produced a great effect. 
 
 O glorious destiny ! 
 
 Applaud, people of France ! 
 
 Soon, crowned with palms, 
 
 Victory will establish peace. 
 
 The brow of the Alps humbles itself : 
 
 We have crossed its ice ; 
 
 And all the forts of Italy 
 
 Open a second time to our soldiers. 
 
 Solo. 
 
 You die, brave Desaix, you die ! Ah, can you believe 
 
 That the glory of your name expires with you ? 
 
 The Arab, in the desert, recounts your glory. 
 
 And his children will tell it to their children for all time. 
 
 According to the Moniteur there was great emotion 
 at this moment. All turned towards the monument 
 raised in his honor, which was topped by his bust, 
 the work of Citizen Dupaty. 
 
 Chorus of Warriors. 
 
 O Conde, Dugommier, Turenne, 
 It is you whom I hear, whom I see ; 
 You seek the great captain 
 Who has outdone all his exploits. 
 The sons are greater than their sires, 
 And your hearts are not jealous. 
 France, after so many sufferings, 
 Rises again better worthy of you. 
 
70 THE WIFE OF THE FIIiST CONSUL. 
 
 A great century ends, a great century begins. 
 Glory, virtues, fine arts, arise with it ! 
 O God ! see tins great people bowed at thy feet. 
 The conquerors of Europe invoke thy aid. 
 
 Oi,o Men. 
 
 From infancy and youth 
 
 To love work and good morals. 
 
 YouxG Men. 
 Give peace to the aged. 
 
 Young Women. 
 Grant to all happier days. 
 
 Geneual Choris. 
 
 LiTmortal Being, by thy light 
 Let France advance henceforth, 
 And to warlike merit 
 Add all the virtues of peace. 
 
 When the choral was over, the First Consul went 
 into the courtyard, behind the dome, where he ^dsited 
 the disabled soldiers. The five whom their com- 
 panions had picked out as most worthy of national 
 reward, Avere presented to him, and he gave them 
 gold medals inscribed with their name, age, birth- 
 place, and exploits. Then he went to the Champ de 
 INIars, where the troops were waiting for him under 
 arms. Every bit of high ground was densely crowded, 
 and all the windows of the INlilitary School Avere 
 packed with spectators. 
 
 The ]\Iinister of War presented to the three Con- 
 suls the officers who carried the captured battle-flags. 
 
THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 71 
 
 Every one wanted to get a nearer view of these 
 trophies of the heroes Avho had deserved so well 
 of their country, of the victorious general who liad 
 accom[)lished so much. They left the high ground 
 and rushed into the Champ de INIars in the midst of 
 the troops. Nothing could oppose them. No orders, 
 no obstacles, stopped this irresistible throng. Every 
 one shouted, " Long live the Republic ! Long live 
 Bonaparte ! " " These two names," said the Moni- 
 teur, " are equally dear to the French. Let the 
 friends of liberty rejoice ; so touching a spectacle was 
 never seen. . . . What a people is this ! Happy is he 
 who can serve it and win its love ! " The celebra- 
 tion ended with all sorts of amusements : foot and 
 horse races, a balloon ascent, illuminations, music 
 and dancing in the Champs Elysdes, fireworks, and 
 a concert. At the grand dinner, at Avhi^^il Bonaparte 
 was present with the principal officials of the Repub- 
 lic, were to be seen the disabled soldiers who had 
 that morning received the medals at the Temple of 
 Mars, and with them two of their comrades, one 
 aged one hundred and four; the other, one hundred 
 and seven. The First Consul proposed this toast: 
 " To the 14th of July and the French People, our 
 sovereign ! " 
 
 The celebration of the 1st Vendemiaire, year IX., 
 was also a Republican festival ; it was the anniver- 
 sary of the foundation of the Republic ; it intro- 
 duced, however, some monarchical memories. The 
 First Consul wished to make combination of all 
 
72 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 forms of glory. The festival of the 1st Venclemiaire, 
 year IX,, was preluded, as it Avere, by that of the 
 fifth complementary day of the year VIII. On that 
 day the remains of Turenne, with his sword and the 
 bullet that killed him, were transported in great 
 pomp to the Temple of Mars (the Chapel of the 
 Invalides), where Carnot, the Minister of War, made 
 a speech. 
 
 The former member of the Convention spoke in 
 the highest praise of the great general of Louis XIV. 
 " On the tomb of Turenne the old man will every 
 day shed tears of admiration ; thither the young man 
 will come to test his talent for a military life. . . . 
 In our days Turenne would have been the first to 
 spring into the ]3ath which our Republican phalanxes 
 have followed. Words cannot describe our feelings 
 here. What have I to say of Turenne ? There he 
 is himself. Of his victories? There is the sword 
 which his victorious arm wielded. Of his death? 
 There is the fatal bullet which tore him from France, 
 from all humanity." 
 
 In the evening of the same day there were free 
 performances in the theatres. The First Consul and 
 his wife went to the FrauQais, where the " Cid " and 
 " Tartufe " were given. In the morning, Turenne ; 
 in the evening, Corneille and Moliere. 
 
 Another reminiscence of Louis XIV. : On the 1st 
 Vendemiaire it was in the Place des Victoires, the 
 spot where that king's statue had been placed that 
 Bonaparte laid the corner-stone of the monument to 
 
THE TWO NATIONAL FESTIVALS. 73 
 
 Kleber and Desaix. In the middle of the square 
 there had been put up a building like an Egyptian 
 temple with a dome, beneath which stood the busts 
 of the two heroes. The windows, balconies, even 
 the roofs of the houses, were crowded with specta- 
 tors, who burst into frantic applause the moment the 
 First Consul appeared. 
 
 Bonaparte afterwards went to the Invalides, where 
 he found inscribed in gold letters on marble tablets 
 the names of the men who had received arms of 
 honor. In the Temple of Mars was given the "Song 
 of the 1st of Vendemiaire," with words by Esmenard 
 and music by Lesueur, a Republican hymn, in which 
 this stanza was noted : — 
 
 Liberty, banished from the walls of Romulus 
 
 Far from the degraded Tiber, fleeing from tyranny, 
 
 Hastens at your voice ; 
 And on the happy banks which the Seine fertilizes, 
 It comes to raise again, for the happiness of the world, 
 
 Its altars and its laws. 
 
 Lucien Bonaparte, the ]\Iinister of the Interior, 
 then spoke in the Temple of jSIars, in honor of the 
 establishment of the Republic. " Though but just 
 born," he said, "Republican France, stronger than 
 all thrones, advances with a giant's stride, visiting 
 and forming' again the old boundaries of ancient 
 G-aul. The sceptre of Henry lA^. and of Louis XIV. 
 rolls shattered in the dust : at once the government 
 of the sovereign people seizes all the sceptres of 
 Charlemagne. So eight years of our era have filled 
 
74 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 our annals with more victories and wonders than 
 eight hundred years of the rule of kings. To our 
 Revolution alone belongs this gigantic and wonder- 
 ful character ; the evils which afflicted us belong to 
 all. Happy is the generation which sees a revolution 
 begun under a monarchy ended by the Republic." 
 He ended with this lyrical outburst : " It seems to 
 me as if upright on a broken statue or on the ruined 
 tomb of an old king of France, the century just end- 
 ing takes its flight, and says to the beginning century: 
 ' I leave you a grand heritage. I have augmented 
 all branches of human knowledge ; I have been called 
 the age of philosophy. I disappeared, and the storms 
 re-enter with me into the night of time. . . . Pre- 
 serve peace and liberty ; do not disappoint the hope 
 of sages' . . . ." And then, at the height of his 
 enthusiasm : " The century that begins will be the 
 grand century. I swear by the people, whose in- 
 strument I am, by the wisdom of the first magis- 
 trates, by the union of citizens. The great destinies 
 of Republican France are accomplished." 
 
 When the orator had ceased, cries of, "Long live 
 the Republic ! " resounded from all parts. The lib- 
 eral promises of the consular government still insjiired 
 confidence ; and it was in thus piously uttering the 
 name of Liberty, in exalting the capture of the Bas- 
 tille, in celebrating with pomp tlie Republican holi- 
 days, that the preparations were laid for the speedy 
 re-establishment of absolute monarchy. 
 
VI. 
 
 MALMAISON IN 1800. 
 
 WE have just seen Bonaparte and Josephine in 
 all the brilliancy" of official life in the palace 
 of the Tuileries, surrounded by all the pomp of real 
 sovereignty. Let us now study them in their rustic 
 life, in an agreeable, modest country-house. The 
 husband and wife appear without formality, showing 
 their domestic qualities, and one soon grows interested 
 in the slightest details of their lives. We are almost 
 like their guests, and we may learn to know them as 
 if we had spent years in their company. We should 
 study them especially at Malmaison, for no other 
 mansion is so rich in memories of them. By going 
 through it as it is to-day, deserted and empty, it is 
 possible to imagine it as it was in 1800. Some day, 
 perhaps, it will be torn down, the victim of some rev- 
 olutionary mob ; now, h'owever, while it is still stand- 
 ing as it existed in the beginning of the century, it is 
 easy to give each room its old physiognomy, to recall 
 its former animation, to renew its past. 
 
 On the left bank of the Seine, close to the village 
 of Rueil, at the foot of the charming amphitheatre 
 
 75 
 
76 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 topped in the distance by the aqueduct of Maii}^ 
 stands tlie famous mansion amid dense verdure. I 
 walk up the avenue of pahn-trees to the castle gate ; 
 passing through this, I enter the main courtyard, 
 with gravel paths intersecting the grass-plots and 
 flower-beds as in old times. I gaze at its front with 
 its three stories, its two wings, its slate roof ; every- 
 thing is as it was in 1800. Under a tent-shaped ve- 
 randa, surmounted by gilded crescents, I enter the 
 great hall paved with squares of black and white 
 marble. This runs through the mansion, giving a 
 view of the park beyond. The roof aboA'^e is vaulted, 
 and is upheld b}^ four stucco columns. To the left 
 of the hall are the dining-room, the council-chamber, 
 the library; to the right, the billiard-room, Jose- 
 phine's boudoir and drawing-room, the picture-gallery. 
 The dining-room is decorated with six nymphs, in 
 black and white, on a stucco ground. In old times 
 there was a large window of plate-glass between the 
 hall and the dining-room, through which Josephine 
 used to watch the children coming to receive toys 
 and sweetmeats. On the mosaic floor I see a rose 
 which marked the place where she used to sit at table. 
 Then there is the council-chamber where so many 
 important deliberations were held, the library with a 
 door on which are painted two helmets and two in- 
 scriptions from the Greek and from the time of chiv- 
 alry. This was the taste of the time — reminiscences 
 of antiquity and of the ^Middle Ages. There is not a 
 single book on the shelves, but I notice the medal- 
 
3iALJ\rAisoN I^'^ isoo. 77 
 
 lions of Plutarch's heroes and the mahogany arches 
 separated by windows. I picture to myself Bona- 
 parte in this room, studying, reading, meditating, and 
 unfolding his maps. From the library there is a pas- 
 sage into the garden, over a little bridge across the 
 moat, which on this side lies close to the castle. In 
 1800 this bridge was covered by a canvas tent which 
 gave the First Consul another room. He used to 
 have his table carried thither, and would Avork there 
 alone, stepping every moment from the bridge out 
 into the garden, and from the garden back to the 
 bridge. " When I am in the open air," he used to 
 say, " I become conscious that my ideas expand more 
 freely. I can't understand men who can sit by the 
 stove and work without any view of the sky." 
 
 Retracing my steps, I return by the library, 
 council-hall, and dining-room to the hall, and pass 
 through it to the billiard-room, which is wainscoted 
 with wood painted light green. I see the billiard- 
 table, or rather its frame, for in 1870 the Prussians 
 took away its cloth and the bed. I then look at 
 the boudoir, which is perfectly bare, and go into the 
 drawing-room, which is equally empty. The mantel- 
 piece, into which were set mosaic medallions, a 
 present from the Pope, has been damaged, but the 
 arabesques, which represent flowers and birds in gold 
 on a Avhite ground, have not been destroyed. It was 
 in this room that Josephine used to hold her levees, 
 and here, a few days before her death, she received 
 the visit of the Emperor Alexander. The mirrors 
 
78 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 whicli reflected so many beautiful faces, so many 
 gorgeous uniforms, are broken; but one would say 
 that the graceful shade of Josephine wanders silently 
 through this drawing-room of which she was the cen- 
 tral figure. On one side is the gallery where the 
 musicians used to stand, and where Garat and other 
 great artists sang, where Queen Hortense, who was a 
 charming composer and performer, used to play the 
 harp and sing, — the gallery where were many pic- 
 tures and objects of art, now all dispersed. 
 
 We have examined the ground floor, and will now 
 ascend the staircase opening on the billiard-room, 
 and go up to the first floor. To the right an ante- 
 room leads up to Josephine's bed-chamber, a round 
 room. In old times it was hung with red. We can 
 still make out the painting on the ceiling, a blue sky 
 with clouds and a few dashes of gold on the wood- 
 work. The place where the bed stood is empty. 
 Napoleon and Josephine occupied this room for a 
 long time, and it was of this period of his life that 
 Napoleon said at Saint Helena, "Not one of my 
 thoughts, not one of my actions, escaped Josephine ; 
 she followed, grasped, . guessed everything, — a fact 
 which sometimes inconvenienced me in my occupa- 
 tions." It was there that she wrote to her mother, 
 who had stayed in Martinique, " You ought to love 
 Bonaparte ; he makes your daughter very happy ; he 
 is kind, amiable, in a word, a charming man." This 
 room was also the scene of her unhappiness. To it, 
 when driven from the Tuileries, she returned to sleep 
 
3IALMAIS0N IN 1800. 79 
 
 the evening of the day when hei- divorce was pro- 
 nounced. In it she drew her last breath ; and there, 
 after his return from Elba, he locked himself up to 
 muse in solitude. The next room was his retiring- 
 room during the Consulate. Another room and a 
 bathroom completed their private apartment. At 
 the other end of the castle were the rooms which 
 Hortense occupied after her marriage. 
 
 In the middle of the first floor is a long corridor, 
 lit by eight windows opening on the courtyard. It 
 leads to the little rooms which are generally assigned 
 to guests. During the Consulate they were simply 
 furnished. The aides-de-camp and visitors used to 
 occupy them. 
 
 Descending the staircase to the hall, we may go 
 out into the garden, over a little bridge decorated 
 with two obelisks of red granite, a reminiscence of 
 the campaign in Egypt. Here is the broad lawn 
 where, in 1800, they used to play prisoners' base, and 
 where they dined in pleasant weather. It is covered 
 with clumps of trees, and by streams flowing from a 
 spring over which stood a little temple hidden by 
 the trees. In the gardens there were places for all 
 sorts of games to amuse the aides-de-camp and the 
 young people of the family and the court. Like 
 Mario Antoinette's Little Trianon, Josephine's Mal- 
 maison had its summer-liouses, its sheepfolds, its cot- 
 tages, its exotic trees, its rare plants, belvederes, its 
 greensward, its little lakes with swans both white 
 and black, its Temple of Love. The temple still 
 
80 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 exists ; I see its Ionic columns of red marble, but 
 the god is no longer there ; I do not find the statue 
 of Eros, who, on a pedestal garlanded with roses, 
 held his bow to wound another conquest with his 
 dart: my eyes seek in vain Voltaire's famous dis- 
 tich : — 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, thy master see; 
 He is, or was, or soon shall be. 
 
 In 1800 Malmaison was the resting-place, the favor- 
 ite resort, of the First Consul. Thither he went for 
 distraction from the cares of power and the fatigue 
 of greatness. There in the springtime he used to 
 take what he called his furlough ; that is to say, the 
 evening of the ninth day, the whole of the tenth day, 
 and the next morning. In summer, after his return 
 from Italy, he used to spend many days every week 
 in this dear Malmaison where Josephine had estab- 
 lished herself. There the great man was amiable, 
 familiar, and kind. He was more than informal ; he 
 was companionable. He used to take part in the 
 games with all the zest of a young man. He would 
 make jokes and admit discussions, and he told stories 
 with astounding brilliancy and wit. As host he was 
 considerate, affable, entertaining, and he left his 
 guests perfect freedom. The entertainments were 
 likewise informal and merry. Those about the first 
 magistrate of the Republic did not suffer from the 
 wearisome formality, the servile refinements, the in- 
 sipid flattery, the childishly intricate etiquette which 
 
MALMAISON IN 1800. 81 
 
 became so onerous under the Empire. Bonaparte, 
 who had not yet abandoned republican ways, was not 
 yet intoxicated by the monarchical incense. His 
 meals were simple ; he sat scarcely half an hour at 
 table. After dinner, when he was in a good humor 
 and the weather was fine, he was free to steal a few 
 minutes from his work, and he used to play prisoners' 
 base with all the eagerness of a schoolboy. 
 
 Let us watch these sports. Here is the First Con- 
 sul, the hero of Areola, of the Pyramids, of Marengo, 
 who takes off his coat and runs about like a boy of 
 fifteen. Among the women I distinguish his three 
 sisters, Elisa, Pauline, and Caroline ; Madame Cam- 
 pan's two nieces, Egle and Adele Auguier (one of 
 whom became the wife of Marshal Ney, the other 
 Madame de Broc); Madame Cochelet; Sophie de 
 Barbe-Marbois (afterwards tlie Duchess of Piacenza) ; 
 Miss Clarke ; Mesdemoiselles de Lally-ToUendal, Vic- 
 torine Victor, Isabey; Elisa Monroe, the daughter of 
 the future President of the United States ; and above 
 all Hortense de Beauharnais, Hortense, who is every- 
 where the first in the games, in study, and in society. 
 Among the men, the First Consul's three brothers, 
 Lucien, Louis, and Jerome, then the future Prince 
 Eugene, Lauriston, Isabey, Didelot, Lucay, Rapp, 
 Savary, and finally Bourrienne, who thus describes 
 the merrymaking : " The game begins, and two lines 
 of prisoners start from the two sides, but the number 
 is equal and the victory uncertain ; it is the moment 
 for a bold stroke, the guard is about to yield. Bona- 
 
82 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 parte springs forward with most eager activity, and 
 chases Hortense ; she dodges him most actively, but 
 he is close behind, and about to catch her, when his 
 foot trips on a root hidden in the grass, and he falls 
 at full length on the battle-field ; all utter a cry, but 
 Bonaparte gets up laughing, and surrenders himself 
 to the victors." Bourrienne adds that almost always 
 unexpected falls would stop the illustrious player in 
 the midst of his trium|)h. 
 
 Is not this a miniature representation of what was 
 to happen to him afterwards in more serious matters ? 
 Unexpected falls at the moment of triumph, is not 
 that Napoleon's destiny ? But the falls at prisoners' 
 base are attended only with innocent pleasantry, 
 while those of the successful general will be followed 
 by deep anathemas. " Then came the exchange of 
 prisoners, which was always the source of hot dis- 
 pute ; Hortense was always considered equal to two, 
 for her bokhiess knew no bounds. In point of fact, 
 these differences formed the only aristocracy at the 
 Malmaison." But soon the progress of etiquette 
 interrujoted these sports, which were thought too 
 democratic; tumbles on the grass seemed to lower 
 the dignity of the head of a state, and one was averse 
 to thinking that the First Consul could be captured 
 by his aides-de-camp. The games continued in the 
 summer of 1801, but in 1802 they stopped ; they 
 disappeared, like many other things, with the repub- 
 lican simplicity. 
 
 The game fuiished, they would walk in the park, 
 
MALMAISON IN 1800. 83 
 
 enjoying the cool evening air. In the moonlight, 
 beneath the huge trees, the women, in their white 
 dresses, resembled gi-aceful phantoms. Nothing 
 pleased Bonaparte more than the sight of a pretty 
 woman, wearing gracefully a white dress ; and Jose- 
 phine, knowing this, almost always wore dresses of 
 white India muslin. Later they would return to the 
 house, and in the groiuid-iloor rooms the First Con- 
 sul used to display his marvellous talent as a talker. 
 The Revolution, philosophy, the East, were his favor- 
 ite subjects. His emphatic manner, his highly im- 
 aginative language, his novel and bold ideas, which 
 were always original and poetical, aroused interest, 
 surprise, and admiration. As for Josephine, her 
 mind was nothing extraordinary, but no one under- 
 stood better than she did how to do the honors of a 
 drawing-room. Bourrienne said of her, " I have 
 never seen a woman carry into society such an equa- 
 ble character, or such a spirit of kindness, which is 
 the essential quality of an amiable character." 
 
 At that time Josephine was rejoicing in her happi- 
 ness. She did not yet see the vision of divorce ris- 
 ing before her, she no longer gave Bonaparte any 
 excuse for jealousy, she rather treated him with the 
 tenderest, most affectionate solicitude. At Malmai- 
 son she was really happy, for there she led a life 
 after her own heart. No palace, however splendid, 
 could appear to her preferable to this simple country- 
 house. Yet she was uneasy ; and while she was en- 
 joying this agreeable leisure, plots were weaving 
 
84 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 against her husband's life. When she was expecting 
 his arrival she would start and tremble at the slight- 
 est sound. In 1800 the neighborhood of Malmaison 
 was not secure. People coming from Paris were 
 often fearful of attack from thieves hidden in the 
 quarries between Chant du Coq and Nanterre. But 
 there was no attempt at Malmaison; Paris was the 
 scene of Ceracchi's conspiracy and of the explosion 
 of the infernal machine, before the end of the year 
 1800, which had begun so brilliantly and happily. 
 
VII. 
 
 THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 
 
 THE extreme partisans on both sides who had at 
 first hoped that Bonaparte would be their man, 
 and who saw him working for himself alone, were 
 exasperated by their disappointment and staked their 
 last hope on crime. Not being able to conquer the 
 First Consul, they determined to kill him. Thus a 
 twofold and permanent conspiracy, — that of the Red 
 Terror and that of the White Terror. The fierce revo- 
 lutionaries, who had never forgotten the passions and 
 hatred of 1793, used to meet in secret and, with fierce 
 imprecations, swear that he, whom they called the 
 tyrant, should die. On the other hand, the Royalists 
 in the pay of England used its money to hire a real 
 legion of thieves and assassins. The famous Georges 
 Cadoudal, an irreconcilable Chouan, from his myste- 
 rious retreat at Morbihan used to direct the bands of 
 highwaymen who stopped the stage-coaches on every 
 road, and he sent to Paris bravos to kill the First 
 Consul. There was from that moment a perpetual 
 struggle between the police and the conspirators, 
 with new suspicions, new denunciations, new fears. 
 
 85 
 
86 THE WIFE OF TEE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 Bonaparte was continually surrounded by ambushes, 
 and, tired and impatient at the numberless reports 
 which exposed a new peril at every step, he was 
 sometimes tempted not to read them, but to trust 
 quietly to the grace of Providence. Sometimes the 
 plan was to stab him, at another to shoot liim with a 
 gun or a pistol ; sometimes to kill him at the theatre, 
 again to abduct him between Paris and Malmaison. 
 Josephine, who was very timid and impressionable, 
 lived in a continual state of alarm. She thought she 
 saw a snare in every clump of trees, an assassin at 
 every turn of the road. Malmaison seemed to her a 
 nest threatened by vultures. 
 
 First, there was the conspiracy of Ceracchi and 
 Arena. Ceracchi, a Roman and a fanatical Republi- 
 can, could not forgive the First Consul for protecting 
 the Pope. Arena was a Corsican, the brother of one 
 of the members of the Council who, on the 19th 
 Brumaire, escaped through the windows of the 
 orange-house at Saint Cloud. The two men had for 
 accomplices Demerville, a former clerk of the Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety ; Topino-Lebrun, a painter, a 
 pupil of David ; and a certain number of Italian refu- 
 gees who desired a republic in both Rome and Paris. 
 They determined to assassinate the First Consul at 
 the opera, where it was announced that he would be 
 present October 10, 1800. But the police got wind 
 of the plot, and such precautions were taken that 
 Bonaparte thought that he could go to the perform- 
 ance without danger. Before starting from the 
 
THE INFEBNAL MACHINE. 87 
 
 Tuileries, at the moment when, after dinner, Jose- 
 phine was dressing, Bessieres entered with Eugene de 
 Beauharnais. He went up to them and said, smiling, 
 " Well, you don't know that they Avant to assassinate 
 me this evening at the opera." Eugene and Bes- 
 sieres exclaimed with horror, and at the same time 
 expressed their surprise that he persisted in going to 
 the performance. " Calm yourselves," he said ; " the 
 police have taken all the necessary precautions." 
 Bessieres, who was in command of the cavalry of the 
 guard, ordered Eugene do Beauharnais to start at 
 once for the Opera-house Avith a picket guard, and to 
 protect the First Consul. When he reached the 
 Opera-house, Eugene made half his men dismount, 
 and after giving his orders to the rest, entered the 
 building, fifty paces in front of Bonaparte, and him- 
 self preceded by his men, thus making the people in 
 the passage-way think that he was the First Consul. 
 Suddenly he halted his men, faced them in two lines, 
 stepped aside, and Bonaparte passed quietly through 
 the double line into his box. A few minutes later 
 Ceracchi and Arena were arrested in the house. This 
 attempt had failed, but it was soon followed by 
 another and a more formidable one. 
 
 This time the Republicans were not concerned with 
 it ; it was a Royalist conspirac}^, organized by three 
 cut-throats of Georges Cadoudal, named St. Rejant, 
 Limoelan, and Carbon. The firstruamed of these had 
 acquired, as a naval officer, some familiarity with 
 artillery, and he was about to put it to a terrible use. 
 
88 TUE WIFE OF THE FIE8T CONSUL. 
 
 One Chevalier, a former workman in the arsenals 
 under the Convention, was arrested when working 
 at a machine which was doubtless intended for an 
 attempt on the First Consul's life ; it consisted of a 
 barrel of powder and grape-shot, to which was fas- 
 tened a gun-barrel. This implement of destruction 
 gave St. Rejant his idea of the famous infernal ma- 
 chine. He confided his secret only to his two accom- 
 plices, and, evading the suspicions of Fouche's police, 
 he wove with terrible skill the threads of his con- 
 spiracy. 
 
 Whenever the First Consul drove out from the 
 Tuileries, towards the rue de Richelieu and the 
 boulevards, he always took the rue Saint Nicaise, a 
 long, narrow street, no longer existing ; it started 
 from tlie rue des Orties, which ran along the quay of 
 the Louvre, and continued at the other side of the 
 Place du Carrousel until it reached the rue Saint 
 Honor^, to the left of the rue Richelieu, in which 
 stood the Opera-house. St. Rejant chose the rue 
 Saint Nicaise for the execution of his plan. Then he 
 hired a stable, calling himself a pedler, and in it he 
 put a horse and cart, — a cart which was destined 
 to be the infernal machine. He calculated the time 
 which the First Consul's carriage would take to go 
 from the Tuileries to this place, and arranged to have 
 the machine explode at the moment determined. 
 He knew that Bonaparte was going to the Opera- 
 house the 3d Nivose (December 24, 1800), on Christ^ 
 mas Eve, to hear the first performance of an oratorio 
 
THE INFEBNAL MACHINE. 89 
 
 of Haycbi, and lie chose this day for his crime. The 
 machine was shaped like a cart, and it contained a 
 barrel of powder. St. R^jant placed it in front of 
 the house, where the First Consul would have to pass, 
 and he was brutal enough to have the horse held by 
 a young girl only fifteen years old, who might have 
 been killed by the explosion. He arranged to receive 
 word from his two accomplices of the moment when 
 the carriage of the First Consul would arrive, then 
 he would start the fire in the barrel and take the 
 necessary precautions for his own safety. The police 
 were in absolute ignorance of the conspiracy, and the 
 three wretches fancied themselves sure of success. 
 
 Let us now turn our attention to the Opera-house 
 as it appeared in the evening of the 3d NivSse. 
 Haydn is the fashionable composer, and every one is 
 talking about his oratorio, "The Creation." It is 
 Garat, the unrivalled Garat, the modern Orpheus, 
 music made man, who with Madame Walbonne and 
 Madame Branchu, two excellent singers, is to bring 
 out the new oratorio. The orchestra is larger than 
 usual ; the choruses have been doubled, those of the 
 Theatre Feydeau having been added to those belong- 
 ing to the opera. The hall is as bright as day. 
 Every place has been taken for this performance, to 
 which all the officials, all the people of fashion, and 
 all the artists mean to come. The women are in full 
 dress, and all the fashionable beauties take good care 
 not to miss such a festivity. The oratorio is about 
 to begin; the musicians are tuning their instruments 
 
90 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 amid the hum of the crowd which always precedes 
 the first performance of a long-expected piece. Al- 
 ready people are turning their opera-glasses towards 
 the distinguished people. It is known that the First 
 Consul and Madame Bonaparte mean to come, and 
 that is an additional attraction. 
 
 Meanwhile what is going on at the Tuileries? 
 Josephine, Hortense, and Madame Murat were very 
 anxious to go to the theatre, and to reach it in good 
 season so as not to lose a note of the oratorio. But 
 Bonaparte was less eager for this pleasure ; he had 
 been working hard all day, and worn out, he had 
 just fallen asleep on a sofa. He was awakened with 
 difficulty, and at last agreed to go to the Opera-house. 
 His hat and sword were brought, and he got into the 
 first carriage with Lannes, Bessieres, and his aide 
 Lebrun. An escort of mounted grenadiers follows 
 him. Josephine was to take the second carriage with 
 Hortense, Madame Murat, and Rapp. A trifling 
 incident, to which perhaps these four persons owed 
 their preservation, delayed their departure for a few 
 moments. Josephine was going to wear for the 
 first time a magnificent shawl which she had received 
 from Constantinople ; she had thrown it on her shoul- 
 ders, when Rapp said to her in an outburst of frank- 
 ness, " Let me make a suggestion, madam ; you have 
 not put on your shawl as becomingly as usual." 
 Josephine then asked Rapp to fold it into the shape 
 that Egyptian women wore it, and while he is doing 
 this they heard the First Consul's carriage di"iviug 
 
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 91 
 
 away. " Huny, sister," said Madame Murat, impa- 
 tiently ; " there's Bonaparte going." 
 
 The three went down the staircase of the Pavilion 
 of Flora and got into the carriage. Josephine and 
 Madame Murat took the back seat, and Hortense 
 and Rapp the other. They were going through the 
 Carrousel, and the First Consul was already in the 
 rue Saint Nicaise, when a loud explosion was heard. 
 Afterwards, at Saint Helena, he recounted how, hav- 
 ing left the Tuileries half-asleep, he had dozed off 
 again, and he suddenly opened his eyes, dreaming 
 that he was drowning in the Tagliamento. At the 
 time of his first campaign in Italy he had insisted on 
 crossing this stream in the middle of the night, hav- 
 ing no notion how deep it was, and he tried to drive 
 throughout in his carriage, with an escort of men 
 carrying poles and torches. He came near paying 
 very dear for his imprudence ; his horses lost their 
 footing, and he narrowly escaped being ingulfed. 
 The memory of this incident was haunting his 
 dream when the infernal machine exploded with a 
 tremendous report. Lannes and Bessieres, his com- 
 panions, were very anxious to stop. " To the opera," 
 Bonaparte shouted; and the coachman, who was 
 di'unk, and thought the explosion was a salvo of 
 artillery fired in honor of his master, and did not 
 know until the next day what had happened, con- 
 tinued on his way at full speed. In a moment the 
 carriage reached the door of the Opera-house ; and 
 the First Consul entered his box without a sign of 
 
92 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 emotion. Not one of the spectators had any idea of 
 what had just happened. The performance went on. 
 To be sure, a faint noise had been heard above the 
 music, but it had aroused no anxiety. But Junot 
 had said, "What a singular hour to be firing can- 
 non ! " 
 
 What had become of Josephine, Hortense, and 
 Madame Murat? Were they hurt? Bonaparte did 
 not know. At the moment of the explosion they 
 screamed with terror. Hortense was slightly cut in 
 the arm by a piece of glass when the carriage-win- 
 dows were broken by the concussion, and Josephine 
 nearly fainted. Rapp got out to see if the First 
 Consul was safe and sound. He made his way 
 through the corpses and ruins in the rue Saint 
 Nicaise to the Opera-house. Meanwhile Josephine's 
 carriage went on by another street, and the tliree 
 women arrived at the theatre. They entered the 
 First Consul's box, which was to the right of the 
 stage, between the two columns which separated the 
 balcou}' from the stage boxes. JosejDhine was trem- 
 bling with emotion, and Hortense had wrapped a 
 handkerchief about her arm. Although near her 
 confinement, Madame Murat remained impassible, 
 with all her brother's firmness. When Bonaparte 
 saw his wife, his sister, and his step-daughter, he 
 greeted them with a smile, then he asked for a pro- 
 gramme, and continued to look at the audience with 
 imperturbable calmness. 
 
 Suddenly the news of the attempt spread through 
 
THE INFEBNAL MACHINE. 93 
 
 the liall. The Prefect of Police broug^ht all the 
 details that he could pick up : more than fifteen 
 persons killed, more severely wounded ; forty houses 
 seriously damaged ; the First Consul and his wife 
 saved by a miracle. At that moment, as if moved by 
 an electric current, immense applause arose from the 
 pit, the orchestra, the amphitheatre, and the boxes. 
 All eyes were turned towards Bonaparte ; every hand 
 was clapping. It was a strange mingling of indigna- 
 tion and enthusiasm, of wrath and joy, of hate of the 
 criminals and of love for the man of destiny who had 
 just escaped their machinations. 
 
 The First Consul did not stay long at the theatre. 
 On his return to the Tuileries he found many offi- 
 cials, who had gone there to congratulate him. Then 
 his anger, which he had hitherto restrained with diffi- 
 culty, broke out. " It's the work of the Jacobins ! " 
 he exclaimed. " It's the Jacobins who tried to assas- 
 sinate me. There are no priests, no nobles, no Chouans, 
 in this thing. It's the men of September, the rascals 
 covered with mud, who are in open revolt, in contin- 
 ual consj)iracy, in solid line against every govern- 
 ment that has established itself. Not three months 
 ago you saw Ceracchi, Arena, Topino-Lebrun, De- 
 merville, try to assassinate me. Well, this is the 
 same thing. They are the blood- drinkers of Septem- 
 ber, the assassins of Versailles, the brigands of the 
 31st of May, the conspirators of Prairial, the authors 
 of all the crimes against the governments. If they 
 can't be chained up, they must be cruslied. We 
 
94 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 must clean France of these disgusting dregs; we 
 must have no pity on such rascals ! ". Bourrienne, 
 Avho recounts this scene, adds, " One must have seen 
 Bonaparte's animated face, his rare but impressive 
 gestures, have heard the sound of his voice, to get 
 any idea of the wrath with which he uttered these 
 words." 
 
 For several days the First Consul maintained that 
 it must be the Jacobins who were at the root of this 
 crime ; the evidence alone convinced him that it was 
 the work of the Royalists. Both parties, however, 
 were pursued indiscriminately ; and although in the 
 conspiracy of Ceracchi and his accomplices there 
 was no overt act, they all were sent to the scaffold, 
 like the makers of the infernal machine which had 
 made so many victims. Public indignation did not 
 distinguish between the criminals ; punishment, even 
 if excessive, was demanded. The men of the old 
 regime said that if Bonaparte were dead, the guillo- 
 tines of 1793 would be set to work again at once ; 
 and the friends of the new ideas imagined that he 
 alone prevented the triumph of the counter-revolu- 
 tion and of the foreigners. Hence there was general 
 joy. For many days the attempt was the sole subject 
 of conversation. The Parisians crowded to look at 
 the place of the disaster, at the pieces of chimneys, 
 bricks, tiles, and slate ; and then, at the sight of the 
 ruins, they denounced the men who had done this 
 thing. The day after the explosion people gathered 
 in a mass from the gates of the Louvre, well into the 
 
The infernal machine. 95 
 
 courtyard of the Tuileries ; and when the band of 
 the Consular Guard began to phiy the celebrated air, 
 " Where is One better off than in the Bosom of One's 
 Family ? " frantic applause greeted the First Consul. 
 Fervent gratitude was expressed for the coachman, 
 who, the rumor ran, had saved his life by his skill. 
 Three or four hundred cab-drivers gave him a dinner, 
 for he had become the hero of their profession. For 
 a long time there was sung in the streets a song, of 
 which numberless copies were printed, containing 
 these crude couplets : — 
 
 An infernal machine 
 
 Of new invention, 
 
 By its explosion 
 
 Wrought unheard-of devastation, 
 
 Overthrowing all about it, 
 
 Men and houses. 
 
 The Consul in his carriage 
 At that moment w^as passing; 
 He was going to the opera. 
 He it was, for certain. 
 That they tried to kill ; 
 But it was a vain attempt. 
 
 The swiftness of his horses 
 
 Had forestalled the blow ; 
 
 But, suddenly stopping. 
 
 He hastens to make enquiries. 
 
 Without fearing this black design, 
 
 He pursued his way. 
 
 His wife, all in tears, 
 Wishes to share his danger. 
 
96 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 But they come and reassure 
 About the horrible uproar, 
 Saying to her, " He has got by ; 
 The Consul is not wounded." 
 
 The incident of the infernal machine made a deep 
 impression on Josephine, not merely by the horrid 
 nature of the attempt, but still more from fear of the 
 consequences it might entail. One would have said 
 that by the light of this fatal flame, at the sound of 
 this explosion, she had seen the apparition of what 
 she dreaded most — divorce. Her enemies were now, 
 in fact, to take the occasion of this plot to advance 
 their pretended ideas of what was needed for the 
 public safety, the national security, and the future of 
 the country, for the advantage of the supporters of 
 hereditary succession. Napoleon's brothers, who had 
 always been hostile to Josephine, were already trying 
 so to mould public opinion that the First Consul, 
 having become almost a sovereign, should be obliged 
 to divorce his barren wife ; and Lucien, who had so 
 often and so ostentatiously declared his republican 
 faith, was now, under the Republic, going to start 
 the discussion of a dynasty. Josephine already saw 
 the misery and anguish, for her husband as well as 
 for herself, which were poisoning destinies apparently 
 the most enviable. When she saw this officer of for- 
 tune, this Corsican, absolutely six years earlier, and 
 now by means of marvellous events, the equal of the 
 highest potentates, yet never contented, and always 
 menaced, she might have well meditated these words 
 
THE INFERNAL MACHINE. 97 
 
 of the "Imitation of Christ," a book on which his- 
 tory throws light and which throws a light on his- 
 tory : " j\Ien say to the weak, What a happy life this 
 man leads ! How rich he is ! How great ! How 
 powerful ! But consider heavenly joys, and you will 
 see that all these temporal advantages are nothing, 
 that they are not stable, that they are rather a bur- 
 den, because no one can possess them without fear 
 and uneasiness." 
 
VIII. 
 
 PAEISIAJ^ SOCIETY IN" 1801. 
 
 IN general, unsuccessful conspiracies have no other 
 effect than to consolidate the powers they at- 
 tempted to destroy. The main result of the infernal 
 machine was to add to the prestige of the First Con- 
 sul, and to give him a pretext to smite his enemies, 
 white or red. A few weeks later, the peace of Lun^- 
 ville filled the public with joy. The Empire of Ger- 
 many recognized the natural boundaries of Republi- 
 can France, and the existence of the Batavian, Hel- 
 vetic, Ligurian, and Cisalpine Republics. The war- 
 like nation had become peaceful ; after dreaming of 
 nothing but victories, it was dreaming of nothing 
 but treaties. Diplomacy, from a thing despised, 
 became the fashion, like many other old-fashioned 
 things ; foreigners, recently abhorred, were received 
 with every attention, and from all parts of Europe 
 they hastened to Paris as the centre of elegance and 
 pleasure. Foreigners of distinction made no secret 
 of their surprise. What ! this superb city, this mag- 
 nificent capital, is the spot which the emigres said 
 was a savage den, a brigand's cavern ! This Head 
 
PABISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. 99 
 
 of the State is the man they called an ogre, a veteran, 
 a bandit! Tliis brilliant and witty society is what 
 the men of Coblenz called the leavings of the galleys 
 and the slnms ! They were astonnded at the Avild 
 exaggerations of partisans when they saw in amiable, 
 gracious, hospitable France, drawing-rooms worthy of 
 the old regime, and a Republican court which in splen- 
 dor surpassed many courts of powerful kings. As 
 General de S^gur said, " The new society was more 
 attractive to the foreigners than the old. And in fact, 
 so varied was its composition, that it offered more 
 liberty, variety, and originality, and yet with no real 
 loss of the urbanity and desire to please which the 
 French character and the example of the old court 
 had spread among all the ranks of the cultivated 
 and intelligent middle classes." No one thought 
 any more about the guillotines, or red caps, or of the 
 " Marseillaise," or asked of impure blood to moisten 
 our furrows. The god of battles appeared bearing 
 an olive-branch. The officers tried to pass for men 
 of society. Balls took the . place of the bivouac. 
 The young officers of even the lowest birth imitated 
 the manners and speech of the young noblemen of 
 the Versailles court. Bonaparte said of his military 
 companions, " What supports them is the idea they 
 have that they have taken the place of the old nobil- 
 ity." The Marquis Colbert de Chabanais, in his in- 
 teresting memoirs of his grandfather, General Colbert, 
 said very truly : " Tlie society which was rising at 
 that time was animated by but one thought, to re- 
 
100 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 place the old nobles ; and in tlie reaction against the 
 manners of the Revolution, every one was trying to 
 recover the tone, the ways, the dress of the old 
 regime. The Jacobin, Avho had been most bitter 
 against certain ways of dressing as the insignia of 
 an aristocracy, was now the first to adopt them, and 
 as anxious to wear silk stockings as he was later to 
 seize the titles once rejected and scornfully pro- 
 scribed." 
 
 It is possible to see a sort of monarchical advance 
 from the beginning of the Consulate to the establish- 
 ment of the Empire. Every day there was a step 
 backwards in habits, fashions, and institutions. The 
 Tuileries grew more and more like a royal palace. 
 The Faubourg Saint Germain filled up. The Repub- 
 lican phraseology disappeared by official order ; the 
 new calendar was never formally abolished, but the 
 old one gradually reappeared, and Sunday took the 
 place of the decadi, or tenth day. The church fes- 
 tivities were celebrated. The giving of presents on 
 New Year's Day, the costumes of Carnival and Lent, 
 the masquerades of Shrove Tuesday, oratories, the 
 promenade at Longchamps,. Easter eggs, — all these 
 things began to reappear. The theatres resumed 
 their former appearance. There was a return to 
 1788. Dinners, balls, festivals of every sort, sup- 
 ported the shopkeepers of Paris. The emigres, on 
 their return from exile, began to accustom themselves 
 to the new order of things. Chateaubriand has said, 
 speaking of this time, " Order began to reappear ; 
 
PAEISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. 101 
 
 the cafes and the streets were deserted, and people 
 stayed at home ; scattered families were reunited ; 
 they gathered the fragments of their inheritance, as 
 the troops assemble after a battle and find out how 
 many are lost." The melancholy author of " Rene " 
 at last discovered the charms of consular France 
 which at first had filled him with horror. " Gradu- 
 ally," he tells us, "I began to enjoy the sociability 
 which is a characteristic of the French, the delight- 
 ful intercourse, the swift and easy exchange of intel- 
 ligence, the absence of stiffness and prejudice, the 
 indifference to wealth and title, this natural levelling 
 of social distinctions, this equality of mind, which 
 makes French society unrivalled and atones for our 
 defects. After a few months' residence with us one 
 cannot live anywhere except in Paris." 
 
 The First Consul's tlu'ee sisters, Madame Elisa 
 Bacciochi, Madame Pauline Leclerc, and Madame 
 Caroline Murat, were at the head of society and were 
 rivals in luxury. The first had literary aspirations, 
 and her intimate friend was Monsieur de Fontanes, 
 the official leader of literature. The second, re- 
 nowned for her elegance and her whims as a pretty 
 woman, was a wonderful beauty. The third, also 
 handsome, was already noted for her ambition. Mad- 
 ame de Stael, by her wit, knowledge, and eloquence, 
 continued to be the queen of the Parisian drawing- 
 rooms. She did not lose courage in the advances 
 she made to Bonaparte, but she inspired him with a 
 sort of instinctive repulsion, as if he knew that this 
 
102 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 brave woman's soul would oppose his power. Mad- 
 ame Rdcamier aroused a more and more general 
 enthusiasm. Her husband had bought the Necker 
 mansion in the rue Mont Blanc, where she gave 
 grand parties. In summer she installed herself close 
 by Paris, in the Castle of Clichy, which enabled her 
 of an evening to go to the Opera or to the Theatre 
 Frangais. After the performance, she would drive 
 out to the country. She was not exclusive in her 
 friendship, and she gathered about her, besides men 
 of letters like La Harpe, Lemontey, and Legouvd, 
 men of all parties who must have been astonished at 
 finding themselves in the same company : thus men 
 of the old court, like the Duke of Guignes, M. 
 de Narbonne, Christian of Lamoignon, Adrien and 
 Mathieu de Montmorency ; and people of the new 
 regime, like Lucien and Joseph Bonaparte ; members 
 of the Convention, like Barrere and Fouch^ ; and 
 revolutionary generals, like Massdna, Moreau, and 
 Bernadotte. 
 
 Nor were the arts forgotten. Garat the singer 
 aroused the most enthusiastic admiration. He was 
 called the modern Orpheus, and wherever he sang 
 there was always to be seen in the front row, watch- 
 ing his every movement, languishing, weeping, sob- 
 bing, even fainting from rapture, a lady of distinction, 
 a foreigner, who had been prominent in Paris during 
 the last days of the Monarchy, and who had just 
 returned to the capital. In Iris interesting book about 
 her, the bibliophile Jacob describes hex as more than 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. 103 
 
 once, before three or four hundred spectators, throw- 
 ing herself into the enchanter's arms and falling at 
 his feet as if to worship him. This lady Avas the 
 Baroness de Kriidener, the future prophetess, the 
 future spiritual guardian of the Emperor Alexander. 
 Who would have thought, on seeing her adoring 
 (xarat, that she would become the soul of the Holy 
 Alliance, and Napoleon's most implacable foe? Like 
 Madame de Stael, she made advances to him and was 
 repulsed. The hero of so many battles had occasion 
 to repent his indifference to these two women, whom 
 Josephine, with more tact, knew how to manage. If 
 it had not been for Madame de Kriidener, probably 
 the Allies in 1814 Avould have treated with the Em- 
 pire, instead of restoring the Bourbons. 
 
 But to return to 1801. The drawing-rooms were 
 brilliant, the theatres crowded. There were many 
 great actors, of whom the greatest was Talma, whom 
 the First Consul regarded as a personal friend. As 
 Chateaubriand puts it, "What, then, was Talma? 
 Himself, his own time, and antiquity. He was pro- 
 foundly and intensely moved by love and patriotism. 
 He had the fierce inspiration, the savageness of the 
 Kevolution through which he had passed. The terri- 
 ble sights he had seen were repeated in the remote 
 and mournful accents of the choruses of Sophocles and 
 Euripides. . . . His mere entrance on the stage, the 
 mere sound of his voice, were intensely tragic. His 
 face expressed suffering and thought ; they showed 
 themselves, too, in repose, in his poses, his gestures, 
 
104 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 his gait." With actors of the highest merit, the 
 Theatre Fran^ais soon regained its okl fame. The 
 Theatre Feydeau was equally admired. Here sang 
 the delightful tenor EUevion, the excellent bass Mar- 
 tin, and Madame Dugazon, who gave her name to 
 parts of a certain style. The opera was the favorite 
 resort of the fashionable world, who made the boxes 
 as much of a spectacle as the stage. A company of 
 Italian singers had just taken the Olympic Hall, a 
 little theatre in the rue Chantereine, where prominent 
 beauties used to display their gorgeous dresses. 
 
 Josephine was very happy in this vortex of pleas- 
 ures, in this life of the drawing-room and the theatre. 
 Every first performance, every ball, every grand din- 
 ner, was an excuse for ordering a new gown, for 
 wearing her jewels. She was delighted to receive 
 the distinguished foreigners who were thronging to 
 Paris, and to renew the habits of the old regime, for 
 which she was admirably suited. 
 
 She was much gratified by the visit to Paris, in 
 May, 1801, of the Infant of Parma, Louis, the son of 
 a sister of Marie Antoinette, and of his wife, a daugh- 
 ter of Charles IV., King of Spain. The treaty of 
 Lun^ville conceded to this young prince, Tuscany, 
 which had been made the Kingdom of Etruria, and 
 before entering his new realm he went to Paris in 
 order, as it were, to receive his investiture from the 
 hands of Bonaparte. Josephine was much flattered 
 at receiving, or, rather, at protecting, the nephew of 
 the martyred Queen and the daughter of the King of 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN ISOl. 105 
 
 Spain. Since she had always continued to be a Le- 
 gitimist, even in the Republican drawing-rooms of the 
 Directory, she was enchanted at an opportunity to be 
 agreeable to a Bourbon prince, and it was especially 
 at such a time that she congratulated herself on hav- 
 ing married the soldier of fortune to whom she was 
 indebted for these great privileges. 
 
 Although the King and Queen of Etruria were 
 travelling under the style of the Count and Countess 
 Leghorn, they were received with all the honors due 
 to crowned heads. They were entertained with 
 splendid entertainments. Bonaparte Avas more and 
 more convinced that, in spite of the Revolution, the 
 French had always remained unchanged, that they 
 liked luxury, titles, show, fine equipages, rich liveries, 
 decorations, and all the trinkets which pamper and 
 tease human vanity. His monarchical plans grew 
 stronger, and possibly he began to dream of the day 
 when he should have Talma, his favorite actor, play 
 before an audience of kings. The Legitimists were 
 simple enough to fancy that the First Consul was 
 working in their behalf, and the creation of the King- 
 dom of Etruria was but the prelude to the restoration 
 of the Kingdom of France. 
 
 Those who thus imagined were very ignorant of 
 Bonaparte ; he had the character of Csesar. Doubtless 
 he would have preferred the first place in a village 
 to the second in Paris. In spite of the hopes of the 
 Faubourg Saint Germain, lie declined with scorn 
 the sword of the Constable of France. What he 
 
106 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 wanted was the sceptre. What do I say? One 
 sceptre was not enough for him. He was inwardly 
 entertained by the credulity of the Royalists, and 
 Josephine's zeal for the Legitimists, far from influ- 
 encing him, only made him smile. 
 
 The visit of the King and Queen of Etruria gave 
 him an opportunity to test public opinion. It showed 
 that even the Republicans Avere not annoyed by the 
 sight of this prince and princess. Just as the great 
 Roman Republic liked to make and unmake kings, 
 so the French Republic, which had created sister- 
 republics, took a certain satisfaction in making a 
 kingdom. Bonaparte, who had some very aristo- 
 cratic traits, was secretly proud to appear as the pro- 
 tector of a descendant of Louis XIV. He thought, 
 and truly, that the visit of a Bouibon to France was 
 a striking proof of growing calmness. Only seven 
 years before, Marie Antoinette had laid her head on 
 the block, and now her nephew was crossing the place 
 of her execution on his way to Malmaison to pay his 
 respects to the First Consul ! 
 
 The King and Queen of Etrmia entered Paris in 
 old carriages of the time of Philip V., drawn by mules 
 covered with bells, and stopped at the Spanivsh Em- 
 bassy, in the rue Mont Blanc. The day after their 
 arrival they were taken to Malmaison by the Cheva- 
 lier d'Azara, the Spanish ambassador. The First 
 Consul received them with military honors, and re- 
 turned their visit the next day. 
 
 A succession of brilliant entertainments was given 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN ISOl. 107 
 
 ill honor of the royal guests. That of M. de Talley- 
 rand, then Minister of Foreign Affairs, in his castle 
 of Reuilly, was a model of elegance and good taste. 
 It was in summer ; the weather was propitious ; na- 
 ture and art combined to make the entertainment a 
 success. In the illuminated gardens the moon and 
 the stars rivalled the brilliancy of the Bengal lights. 
 The party began with a concert, and when the end 
 of the gallery was opened, there was disclosed a scene 
 representing the place in front of the Pitti palace at 
 Florence. Dancers and singers, dressed as Tuscan 
 peasants, played and danced, while they sang couj)- 
 lets in praise of their Majesties. An Italian impro- 
 visator, named Gianni, pronounced a tolerably long 
 ode in honor of the young King, who was delighted 
 to hear his native tongue. The new sovereign had 
 been somewhat chagrined Avhen, on paying his re- 
 spects in Italian, the First Consul had replied in 
 French ; he then said, " Ma, in somma, siete Italiano^ 
 siete tiostro " ; and Bonaparte answered dryly, " I am 
 a Frenchman." At M. de Talleyrand's the King and 
 Queen of Etruria might have imagined themselves in 
 their new kingdom. When they went out into the 
 garden, they were surrounded by a band of pretty 
 Tuscan peasant girls, who offered them flowers. 
 Supper was served in the orange-house. The tables 
 were placed around the orange-trees, which rose like 
 epergnes ; from the branches hung baskets full of 
 sweetmeats. Fireworks and a ball closed the enter- 
 tainment. 
 
108 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 The fete given a few days later by the illustrious 
 Chaptal, at that time Minister of the Interior, was no 
 less successful. It took place in the Brissac mansion, 
 in the rue Grenelle Saint Germain. A scene repre- 
 sented the city of Florence illuminated; a Tuscan 
 village had been built, peasants sang in chorus, others 
 recited passages from Petrarch and Tasso. Hidden 
 musicians played and sang in every direction. A 
 temple was seen on the top of a little hill, and there 
 Apollo and the INI uses celebrated the arts and glory. 
 After supper the company entered the large gallery, 
 where nymphs and shepherds from the opera danced 
 quadrilles. One of the girls gave the King a bou- 
 quet which in his hands, as if by magic, took the 
 shape of a crown, holding verses by the poet Esme- 
 nard. The Duchess of Abrantes in her Memoirs de- 
 scribes the First Consul's enjoyment of the evening. 
 " I have seldom seen him so much interested by any- 
 thing of the sort, and he expressed his satisfaction 
 not only that evening, but long afterwards. He 
 spoke of the songs and music from the concealed 
 performers, which filled the gardens as if by enchant- 
 ment." 
 
 June 25, the anniversary of the battle of Marengo, 
 there was another entertainment, given by the Min- 
 ister of War, Berthier. There was a much-adorned 
 representation of camp life. Supper was served in 
 the garden under tents ; bivouac fires lit up the 
 groves ; panoplies and trophies adorned the dancing- 
 rooms. Officers in uniform, standing behind the 
 
PARISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. 109 
 
 ladies at table, were their cup-bearers. A balloon 
 was sent up in the dark night, which, as it rose, dis- 
 closed in flame the name Marengo. 
 
 Madame de Montesson also entertained the King 
 and Queen of Etruria at her house in rue du Mont 
 Blanc, next door to the Spanish Embassy. Charlotte 
 Jeanne B^raud de la Haye de Riou, Marchioness of 
 Montesson, was certainly one of the most remarkable 
 of the ladies of the consular society. Born in 1737, 
 she was at that time sixty-four years old; a widow 
 since 1769, she had made a morganatic marriage in 
 1773 with the Duke of Orleans, who was the father 
 of Philippe Egalite and the grandfather of the King 
 Louis Philippe ; he died in 1785. During the Revo- 
 lution she had been most devoted to Louis XVI., who 
 treated her like a relative when the number of his 
 courtiers was dwindling day by day. She was a 
 charming woman, well educated, Avitty, very polite, 
 a survival of the manners of the old aristocracy. 
 Being a great admirer of the First Consul, in whom 
 she saw the restorer of society, she was devoted to 
 him and to his policy. Bonaparte, who was much 
 flattered by tliis attitude of so distinguished a woman, 
 had restored her property and was glad to see her the 
 mistress of a house which he regarded as a model of 
 refinement and real elegance. Whenever she invited 
 Josephine to breakfast, Bonaparte lu-ged his wife to 
 accept, and he himself was often the guest of the 
 widow of the Duke of Orleans. The Marchioness of 
 Montesson's Wednesday dinners were renowned. 
 
110 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 On that day, in Lent, she used to have a dinner with 
 meat for the majority of her guests, and one without 
 for ecclesiastics and tliose who remained faithful to 
 the laws of the Church. All the old nobility in Paris 
 would meet in her drawing-room, and her very mag- 
 nificent ball recalled the most splendid entertainments 
 of the Monarchy. 
 
 At the Theatre Frangais there was a special per- 
 formance of the " ffidipe." The theatre was crowded ; 
 for nothing could gratify the Parisians more than to 
 see Bonaparte doing the honors of Paris to a Bour- 
 bon. When the actor who played Philoctetes re- 
 cited this line, — 
 
 I have made kings ; but would not be one, 
 
 the audience turned towards the box where the Head 
 of the Republic was sitting with his royal guest, and 
 burst into the wildest applause. A few days later 
 the King and Queen of Etruria left for their new 
 kingdom, where they were installed by Murat, and 
 the Queen, who was a wise and intelligent woman, 
 kept up a friendly correspondence with Josephine, 
 whose gracious reception had charmed her. 
 
 Hardly had the young King left Paris when after 
 the royal festivities came the Republican holiday, 
 the 14th of July, the anniversary of the capture of 
 the Bastille. It had been regarded as important that 
 a Bourbon should not be present at this celebration ; 
 but there was nothing veiy marked about it. A 
 temple of Victory was built before the Palace of 
 
PAEISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. Ill 
 
 the Corps Legislatif, with a portico supported by six 
 columns and four monuments, dedicated to the com- 
 memoration of Desaix, Joubert, Hoche, and Kl^ber. 
 In the middle of the temple there was a piece of 
 sculpture representing Victory offering peace to 
 France. In the middle of the Place de la Concorde 
 there was a column built in honor of the army. 
 
 The most impressive of the national festivals of 
 the year 1801 was undoubtedly that of the 18th Bru- 
 maire (November 9). It was known as the Festival 
 of General Peace. At this happy moment every one 
 was talking of universal peace. The month before, 
 arrangements had been made which settled every 
 difficulty. The preliminaries of peace with England 
 had been signed in London, October 1, and the news, 
 which reached Paris two days later, had aroused 
 most unprecedented satisfaction. On both sides of 
 the Channel there was the same wild enthusiasm. 
 In London the populace had unharnessed the horses 
 from the carriage of Colonel Lauriston, the First 
 Consul's aide-de-camp, and drew it with their own 
 hands. In the same month, treaties or settlements 
 of some sort had been made by France with Portu- 
 gal, the Porte, the regencies of Tunis and Algiers, 
 with Bavaria and Russia. Joseph Bonaparte, who 
 had been appointed by his brother general peace- 
 maker, and who had had the distinction of signing 
 the treaty of peace with America at Morfontaine, 
 with Austria at Luneville, was going to sign tlie 
 English treaty at Amiens. Meanwhile, the English 
 
112 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 plenipotentiary, Lord Cornwallis, reached Paris to 
 take part in the festival of the 18th Brumaire, and 
 on that day his was the only carriage allowed to be 
 driven. One would have said that the First Consul 
 had as strong a desire for peace as he had had for 
 war. 
 
 The Place de la Revolution had become the Place 
 de la Concorde. The 18th Brumaire, it was deco- 
 rated with porticos and covered with dance-halls. 
 On the left bank of the Seine, between the Pont 
 Royal and the Pont Neuf, there had been built 
 a temple of Commerce. A fleet of launches and 
 barges, decorated and dressed with flags, with crews 
 representing the different nations of Europe, ascended 
 the river from Chaillot to this temple. Scarcely 
 had they arrived when songs and dances in honor of 
 peace began. A balloon was sent up bearing the 
 flags of all the friendly powers, and from it there 
 started a parachute which covered a descending Mer- 
 cury. A huge theatre had been put up in the Place 
 de la Concorde. In it were enclosed the famous 
 horses of Marly, where were given performances 
 illustrating the horrors of war and the benefits of 
 peace. First there was a representation of the bom- 
 bardment of two cities; afterwards there apjDcared 
 temples dedicated to Peace, to the Arts, to Industry, 
 which opened and disclosed the men whom the war 
 had spared. At the end of the platform of the Pont 
 Neuf stood a triumphal arch bearing Bonaparte's 
 name. At the Salm mansion, now the Palace of the 
 
PABISIAN SOCIETY IN 1801. 113 
 
 Legion of Honor, a colossal statue represented a hero 
 sheathing his sword in token of peace. 
 
 Napoleon at Saint Helena once said in reference to 
 this happy period of his life : " I really thought that 
 the fate of France, of Europe, and my own were set- 
 tled, and that there would be no more wars. But the 
 English Cabinet kindled everything anew, and to 
 it alone Europe owes all its subsequent troubles ; 
 it alone is responsible. For my part, I had intended 
 to devote myself solely to the government of France, 
 and I think I should have produced wonders. My 
 fame would have been as great, and I should have 
 been much happier; I should have made a moral 
 conquest of Europe, such as I came near making 
 with arms. What glory they have robbed me of!" 
 In 1801 France was at peace and radiant with joy. 
 Any one who would have predicted the terrible catas- 
 trophes which were about to burst forth within a few 
 years would have been called a madman. It was a 
 period of intoxication, of enchantment, the traces of 
 which are preserved in all the contemporary Memoirs. 
 France was happy because it aroused the envy of all 
 the other powers. Perhaps the most necessary thing 
 for its ardent and impressionable character is the 
 gratification of its pride. Without this it is sad, 
 agitated, uneasy. It is a nation which cannot endure 
 mediocrity or misfortune. Without glory it is out 
 of its element. 
 
IX. 
 
 MALMAISON IX ITS GLORY. 
 
 IN tlie summer of 1801 and the spring of 1802 
 Malmaison saw its faii'est days. At that time 
 Saint Cloud was not then the First Consul's country- 
 seat; Malmaison, in its new splendor, had no rival. 
 It was known as a favorite resort of great men and 
 celebrated women. One would have said that it had 
 an air of its own, and that the very stones were con- 
 scious of their importance. It was not a palace, and 
 yet it was something more than a castle. It was 
 plain that it would in time belong to history, and 
 that its furniture would be a matter of interest to 
 every one. The place inspired a sort of attentive 
 and respectful curiosity. 
 
 Fontaine, in his unpublished manuscript Memoirs, 
 which might well be called the Journal of an Archi- 
 tect, wrote under date of December 10, 1800 : " The 
 First Consul ought really to come to Malmaison only 
 to rest and to forget once a week the affairs of gov- 
 ernment ; but in fact people make formal calls, min- 
 isters come out to report, and officers to pay their 
 respects, and everything is too small for such a mul- 
 114 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 115 
 
 titude. They are enlarging the stables and offices. 
 They have added to the park all the land lying be- 
 tween the road, Mademoiselle Julien's house, and 
 the garden. Trees are set out everywhere." Great 
 changes and improvements were made in the park 
 and in the house between 1800 and the summer of 
 1802. To the park was added the whole plain sep- 
 arating it from Rueil. The view was then bounded 
 by the C6te d'Or, a large hill, on the west, and by 
 the wood Saint Cucufa in the far southwest. The 
 park Avas divided into two distinct parts, united by 
 gentle slopes. The first Avas a smooth, flat stretch of 
 about a kilometre behind the castle ; the other was 
 more picturesque and showed greater variety, lying 
 as it did on the slope of a hill. In the first Avas the 
 large grove Avatered by the brooks which started 
 from the Temple of Love. These little streams 
 wound among the flower-beds and clumps of trees 
 towards a little lake, into AA'hich they fell in a series 
 of cascades ; another stream floAved into the lake 
 from the other side. This lake lay in the lower part 
 of the park, surrounded by plane-trees and poplars. 
 From it started the brook Avhich Delille had sung; 
 it ran into the garden through two rows of venerable 
 chestnut-trees. On the right of the lake Avas a shep- 
 herd's hut, and in the middle of the Avood a SavIss 
 dairy. 
 
 Josephine did not like the Frencli gardens, such as 
 Le Notre designed, Avith their majestic quincunxes, 
 their square grass-plots, their clipped ycAvs, their 
 
116 THE WIFE OF THE Fill ST CONSUL. 
 
 shrubs set in a bed of Procrustes. She cared only 
 for English gardens, which had been made fashion- 
 able by the Prince of Ligne at Bel-GEil ; by Horace 
 Walpole at Strawberry Hill; by the Marquis of 
 Caraman at Roissy. Fontaine wrote about her as 
 follows, in December, 1800 : " Madame Bonaparte is 
 much distressed at our making some straight paths. 
 She wants everything done in the English fashion. 
 An avenue set out to lead straight from one place to 
 another seems to her a barbarous infringement of the 
 laws of gardening, and it is only at the cost of the 
 good opinion she had of our talents that we have 
 succeeded in getting for the main approach and for 
 the road to the stables a dispensation from the rule 
 demanding winding ways." Fontaine wrote again 
 on this subject in SejDtember, 1801 : "Our heresy in 
 regard to the present fashion of gardens has much 
 injured us in Madame Bonaparte's estimation. To 
 speak about order and regularity in a garden was 
 sheer blasphemy. They wanted nothing but groups, 
 effects, contrasts, and, above all things, sentiment." 
 The park contained an abundance of surprises and 
 contrasts : here was Love, in his temple ; there a statue 
 of Saint Francis in Capuchin dress, in a grotto ; here 
 a colossal Neptune, Puget's masterpiece, a Neptune 
 overlooking the lake, and brandishing his trident 
 between two rostral columns of Serancolin marble ; 
 there, under a weeping willow, was a tomb with 
 a bas-relief carved by Girardon. Close to the cas- 
 tle was a large and fine conservatory, designed by 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 117 
 
 M. Thibaut of the Institute. It was lofty enough to 
 contain the longest exotic shrubs. In the middle a 
 portico, upheld by two marble columns with gilded 
 bases and capitals, opened into the drawing-room, 
 whence one looked out into a circle of rare flowers 
 and plants spreading on both sides. Josephine, the 
 poetic Creole, the pearl of the Antilles, seemed a 
 beneficent fairy reigning over this charming and mys- 
 terious empire. 
 
 The inside of Malmaison, as well as the park, had 
 been much beautified. The decorations of the hall, 
 the dining-room, the council-chamber, the library, 
 the billiard-room, the boudoir, the drawing-room, the 
 gallery, left nothing to be desired. In September, 
 1800, the architect Fontaine wrote : " The decora- 
 tors have finished the ceilings of the library and the 
 frieze in the room of the First Consul, on the first 
 floor, above the drawing-room. Madame Bonaparte 
 takes a lively interest in everything we do. She is 
 ordering some new decorations, and wants us to 
 give our attention to the gardens, the waters, the 
 hot-houses, in short to everything which can make 
 this place more agreeable, for she regards it as her 
 own private property." A bathroom was put in the 
 first floor, near the First Consul's room, by the side 
 of the door, and on the other side, a dressing-room 
 and a little sleeping-room. Two small staircases were 
 built, one leading from the First Consul's room to 
 the gallery on the ground floor; the other, from the 
 first floor to the library and the council-chamber. 
 
118 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 " We are very soriy," writes the architect, " that the 
 old shape of the house and the previous changes do 
 not let us place the First Consul's rooms over the 
 library ; as it is, if lie Avishes to go from his cliamber 
 to his study or to the council-chamber, lie lias to 
 pass through the whole width of the liouse, whether 
 he goes through the corridor on the first floor, or 
 comes down into the gallery and passes through the 
 rooms on the ground floor." 
 
 We cannot leave Fontaine's manuscript Memoirs 
 without citing what he says of the little theatre built 
 for amateur performances. " It is now some time," 
 he wrote, March 22, 1802, "since a love of theatrical 
 performances began to appear in the household of the 
 First Consul. . . . We had made a sort of portable 
 theatre Avhich was set up for this purpose in the 
 gallery, near the di\awing-room. Then we had con- 
 trived to construct a little hall by taking a corner of 
 one of the largest rooms in the north })avilion on the 
 second floor; but this last plan, although it gave 
 more space, was less commodious, for it required that 
 the spectators should leave the drawing-room, go up 
 two pairs of stairs, to sit in a narrow room which 
 was neither large nor handsome. At last, the First 
 Consul has yielded to long-continued supplications, 
 and has commissioned us to build as cheaply as pos- 
 sible a little theatre, entirely isolated, in the court- 
 yard on the side of the farm. He has given us a 
 month to do it in, and we shall set to as soon as he 
 has approved the cost. Yesterday we made a plan 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 119 
 
 and an estimate, and gave them to M. Bourrienne 
 who, with Madame Hortense, Madame Bonaparte's 
 daughter, is one of the most entlmsiastic actors." 
 Tlie architect promised to buikl in thirty days, for 
 the sum of thirty thousand francs, in the farmyard, 
 near the gallery of the ground floor, a theatre of 
 wood, with no pretentions to monumental solidity 
 and no external ornaments ; and he kept his w^ord. 
 In shape it was polygonal, and it was covered with 
 slates. It held easily about two hundred spectators. 
 The ceiling was decorated wnth printed calico. It 
 contained a pit, a row of boxes, a gallery, an orches- 
 tra, and two little greenrooms. The floor was built 
 above the ground, to avoid dampness, and made to 
 serve as a ballroom on occasion. 
 
 Since the building was isolated, a gallery of can- 
 vas led to it from the ground floor. It was inaugu- 
 rated May 12, 1802, not by amateurs, but by some 
 Italian actors, who gave the " Serva Padrona." " The 
 hall was very satisfactory," says the architect, "and 
 if the piece played had been better adapted to the 
 taste of the spectators, they would have been more 
 amused." 
 
 A word is necessary about the amateurs who used 
 to play in this theatre, and who might be called the 
 actors in ordinary to the First Consul. The Duchess 
 of Abrantes says in her Memoirs : " Mademoiselle de 
 Beauharnais had been so successful at Madame Cam- 
 pan's in ' Esther ' and the other plays in which Mes- 
 demoiselles Auguier and Mademoiselle Pannelier also 
 
120 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 showed remarkable talent, that she was obliged to 
 appear on the stage at Malmaison. Eugene de Beau- 
 harnais acted remarkably well; I am not prepossessed 
 when I say that Junot had really great talents ; M. 
 Didelot made a capital Crispin. I got through my 
 parts very tolerably, and General Lauriston made a 
 noble Almaviva, or any other lover in court dress. 
 But the best of the company was M. Bourrienne ; he 
 acted serious parts to perfection." 
 
 This is the way Bourrienne speaks of the actors of 
 Malmaison : " Hortense acted admirably ; Caroline 
 (Madame Murat), only tolerably; Eugene, very well. 
 Lauriston was a trifle heavy ; Didelot, passable, and 
 I may say without vanity, that I was not the worst 
 in the company. If we were not very good, it was 
 not for lack of good advice and good instructions. 
 Talma and Michot used to come to make us rehearse 
 together and separately. How many lessons I have 
 received from Michot when walking in the beautiful 
 park ! And, if I may mention it, it gives me to-day 
 great pleasure to return to these trifles which are so 
 important when one is young, and so marked a con- 
 trast to the greater stage on which we did not repre- 
 sent fictitious characters." Bourrienne adds that the 
 company owned a rich collection of properties. The 
 First Consul had given each one of the amateur 
 actors a collection of plays, richly bound, and as the 
 protector of the company, he had had expensive and 
 elegant costumes made for them. "Bonaparte," con- 
 tinues Bourrienne, " took great pleasure in these 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 121 
 
 j)erformances ; he liked to see comedies acted by his 
 friends ; sometimes he even complimented us. Al- 
 though I liked it as much as the others, I was obliged 
 to tell him more than once tliat my occupation left 
 me very little time for learning my part ; then he 
 would assume his caressing way, and say, ' Oh ! 
 nonsense ; you have such a good memory ! You 
 know what pleasure I get from it; you see how these 
 plays light up Malmaison ; Josephine is very fond 
 of them. Get up earlier.' ' And I sleep so much, 
 as it is, don't I ? ' ' Come, Bourrienne, do it to 
 please me ; you do make me laugh so ! Don't de- 
 prive me of this pleasure ; I haven't too many, as 
 you know.' ' Indeed I won't deprive you of any. 
 I am delighted to be able to give you any entertain- 
 ment.' " And thereupon Bourrienne would set about 
 learning his part. 
 
 Napoleon, whose administrative genius busied itself 
 with trifles as well as with great things, looked after 
 the details of the theatre at Malmaison with the same 
 solicitude that he showed for the condition of his 
 soldiers. He was, moreover, well read in dramatic 
 literature. From his infancy he had studied and 
 committed to memory the French tragedians, and 
 especially Corneille, whom he warmly admired. He 
 liked to declaim the principal passages. In 1795, 
 before the 13th Vendemiaire, when he was yet un- 
 known. Talma gave him tickets to the ThdS,tre Fran- 
 9ais. He was interested in the new plays, and used 
 to examine them with care, commenting upon them 
 
122 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 with great intelligence and originality. JNIost great 
 statesmen have been interested in the theatre. 
 Napoleon, in this respect, had the same tastes as 
 Richelieu and Louis XV. There is notliing strange 
 in this. Is there not a certain resemblance between 
 the ruler of a state and the manager of a theatre ? 
 Do not both have to do with leading men, supernu- 
 meraries, optical illusions, a pit, hired applauders, 
 newspaper notices, and a public which applauds one 
 day and hisses the next? Are not great men actors 
 in the drama of history? And is not human life 
 a tragic comedy, in which they play the principal 
 parts? .Was not Napoleon all his life an incompar- 
 able manager, the manager of his own glory ? He 
 did not need to look to Talma for lessons in the- art 
 of posing so as to impress the popular imagination ; 
 he had already a Avonderful knowledge of scrtiic 
 effect. Victorious or beaten, all-powerful or a pris- 
 oner, he knew hoAV to arrange the incidents of his' 
 career to resemble the events of a colossal drama. 
 Who understood better than he how to select, for 
 those actions of his that would one day become 
 historical, the stage and the setting that would best 
 suit them ? 
 
 In the hands of an organizer like Napoleon, the 
 performances at Malmaison could not fail to succeed. 
 At first the list of their plays was very small. They 
 did not dare try the great plays at first, with natural 
 distrust of their powers. But soon, after playing a 
 number of gay and amusing short pieces, like the 
 
MAL3fAlS0N IN ITS GLORY. 123 
 
 " H^ritiers," the " Etourdis," the " Rivaiix d'eux- 
 memes," and " Defiance et Malice," at the request of 
 the Fii\st Consul, they ventured to try more impor- 
 tant plays. 
 
 On the evenings of their performances there Avas 
 always a very brilliant company at Malmaison. After 
 the play the ground-floor rooms were crowded. The 
 performance was followed, either by a concert, where 
 were to be heard the best singers and the most skilful 
 musicians of the time, or by a small ball, or rather a 
 dance, three or four quadrilles going on at the same 
 time in the spacious room. The First Consul him- 
 self did not disdain to dance with untiring energy ; 
 and on such occasions he would ask the musicians 
 to play the old tunes which reminded him of his 
 boyhood. 
 
 The Duchess of Abrantes gives a vivid description 
 of these pleasures, in which she liked to take part. 
 " There was nothing more delightful," she says, 
 " than a ball at Malmaison, at which the women who 
 composed what was really, though without the name, 
 Madame Bonaparte's court took part. All were 
 young, many were pretty ; and when they were 
 dressed in their white crape gowns, carrying flowers, 
 and wearing garlands as fresh as their young, laugh- 
 ing faces, radiant with gayety and happiness, it was 
 delightful to see them dancing in the hall in which 
 were the First Consul and the men with whom he 
 was weighing the fate of Europe." Bourrienne also 
 recurs to the same memories with a certain tender- 
 
124 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 ness, when he says, " Away from the cares of govern- 
 ment, which, so far as possible, we left behind us at 
 the Tuileries, we were sometimes very happy in our 
 colony of Malmaison ; and then we were young, and 
 what does not youth beautify?" And he adds, re- 
 calling the drawing-rooms after the performance of a 
 play in the little theatre, "There the conversation 
 was most animated and varied ; and I may say with 
 truth that gayety and freedom were the soul of the 
 conversation, and made its whole charm. There 
 were refreshments of every sort, and Josephine did 
 the honors with such grace that every one could feel 
 that she had been more occupied with him than with 
 any one else. After these delightful entertainments, 
 which generally closed at midnight, the guests would 
 return to Paris." 
 
 Hortense was the leading star of the theatre of 
 Malmaison. She made a great hit as Rosina in the 
 "Barber of Seville." The other parts were thus cast: 
 Almaviva, General Lauriston ; Figaro, M. Didelot ; 
 Basile, Eugene de Beauharnais ; Bartholo, Bour- 
 rienne ; I'Eveillc^, Isabey, the artist. It will be re- 
 membered that the same play had been given a few 
 years before on another, equally remarkable, ama- 
 teur stage at the Little Trianon. Beaumarchais's 
 piece was played there August 19, 1785, at the very 
 moment when the incident of the " Diamond Neck- 
 lace " occurred. It was INIarie Antoinette who took 
 the part of Rosina; Almaviva was Count de Vau- 
 di'euil ; Bartholo, the Duke of Guiche ; Basile, M, 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 125 
 
 de Crussol ; and the Figaro was the Count d'Artois, 
 the future Charles X. 
 
 The memory of Marie Antoinette was still very 
 fresli at the Consular Court, and Madame Campan, 
 who had brought up, in her boarding-school at Saint 
 Germain, a good many of the young women of this 
 new court, had instructed them in the traditions of 
 the old regime. The country balls of the Little 
 Trianon, the taste for pastorals and idyls, the sheep- 
 folds, the Smss chalets, the fashion of wearing white 
 dresses, the English gardens, the rustic life, — all these 
 things reappeared at Malmaison. Like Marie Antoi- 
 nette, Josephine delighted in a park with retreating 
 paths and winding walks, with the greensward cov- 
 ered with daisies and violets. Like the Queen she 
 was full of feeling, kind, generous, sympathetic with 
 the suffering, sometimes gay, but generally sad and 
 melancholy. Like the Queen she had the love of 
 flowers which is shared by almost all pretty women. 
 May it not be because there was an analogy between 
 their fate and that of flowers ? Like the flowers, they 
 charm the eye, delight with their beauty, and, alas ! 
 fade in a day, and are soon forgotten even where 
 they once shone in all their beauty ! 
 
 Many things have changed at Malmaison. The 
 park, mutilated, cut up, and reduced to the propor- 
 tions of a simple garden, is but the shadow of what 
 it was. The avenue of chestnut-trees is destroyed, — 
 a magnificent avenue of trees, centuries old, in which 
 Napoleon liked to walk, musing as he listened, at 
 
126 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the hour of the Angelus, to the distant sound of the 
 church-bell at Rueil. There are no traces left of 
 the line hot-house which contained so many rare 
 plants and exotic shrubs. There is not the least 
 fragment of the pretty little theatre where Hortense 
 used to act. Malmaison survives ; I see the shrine, 
 but where are the divinities ? 
 
 How Josephine loved this blessed spot ! People 
 travel far from Paris to look at landscapes which are 
 certainly less fair. All about ]\Ialmaison there are 
 many spots to tempt an artist. There are, too, many 
 excursions for the lady of the castle. In a few min- 
 utes one can reach Butard, a hunting-house with a 
 charming pavilion in the style of Louis XV., which 
 the First Consul bought. There it is delightful to 
 float in a little boat on the pond of Saint Cucufa. 
 There is an agreeable promenade on the superb ter- 
 race of Saint Germain, that graceful and majestic 
 amphitheatre which looks out on a fairy-like pano- 
 rama, and the aqueduct of ]\Iarly lends a classical 
 air to the horizon, recalling Poussin's most beautiful 
 landscapes. 
 
 Josephine preferred Malmaison to all her other 
 residences. In comparison with this favorite abode, 
 the Tuileries seemed like a prison, and in fact about 
 this royal palace, now destroyed, there was even at 
 the time of its greatest splendor something sad and 
 gloomy. Malmaison, on the other hand, was cheer- 
 ful ; only the gentle and happy side of life appeared 
 there. There was no rigid ride of etiquette, but 
 
MALMAISON IN ITS GLORY. 127 
 
 every one breathed freely and took pleasure in living. 
 Josephine was right in wishing to remain there. 
 Napoleon had quite as much fame in this compara- 
 tively modest residence as beneath the gilded cano- 
 jjies of Saint Cloud, Compiegne, or Fontainebleau. 
 At Malmaison lie still preserved some of that Repub- 
 lican simplicity which was so well suited to the origin 
 and character of his glory, which was very great, but 
 of recent growth. As for monarchical splendor, was 
 not the Tuileries enough in the winter, and was it 
 necessary to install himself in the old royal residences 
 in the summer? Palaces are gloomy places to those 
 who have not been born in them ; they are the home 
 of illusions ; they nourish the optimism Avhich is 
 often the forerunner of a downfall. At Malmaison 
 the First Consul still heard the truth. At Saint 
 Cloud no one will dare to tell it to him. He will 
 have no friends ; he will have courtiers. 
 
 Josepliine had a presentiment of all this. She would 
 not have wished a larger, a more magnificent resi- 
 dence than this Malmaison which she had selected, 
 bought, and prepared to receive her husband on his 
 return from Egypt. It was her ideal. Hoc erat in votis. 
 September, 1801, Fontaine the architect wrote : " The 
 castle of Malmaison, in spite of all we have spent, 
 and all the additions, is too small for the First Con- 
 sul, who requires a countr3'-house. He has thought 
 of taking Saint Cloud and having it put into condi- 
 tion. . . . Madame is averse to giving up Malmaison, 
 which she regards as her own property, which she is 
 
128 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 having decorated, and which she prefers to any spot 
 on earth." Slie looked on this phxce as her own, as 
 her work, and slie wanted to stay there ; for a secret 
 instinct tokl her that the palaces would bring her 
 misfortune. If Bonaparte had listened to her, he 
 would never have established himself at Saint Cloud. 
 But under the spur of liis gigantic ambition he began 
 to find a house which had previously belonged to 
 private owners, unsuitable to his lofty rank. He 
 demanded a court, a military and a civil establish- 
 ment, a complicated system of etiquette, imposing 
 pomp. Even countr}^ life demanded some of the 
 show of royalty. He demanded henceforth to be 
 everywhere, and at all times, on the same footing as 
 the kings and emperors, his future brothers, and 
 Saint Cloud appeared as necessary to his advance to 
 sovereignty. 
 
o 
 
 X. 
 
 HOETENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS. 
 
 F all the young girls of the Consular Court 
 the most remarkable and the most gifted 
 was Josepliine's daughter, Hortense de Beauharnais. 
 Amiable, courteous, witty, with the figure of a nymph, 
 light hair, and a brilliant complexion, she was -the 
 poetic image of France at that time, in all its youth- 
 ful loveliness, force, and confidence in the future, of 
 that France, lit up by the light and glowing dawn. 
 Everything seemed to smile on the charming young 
 girl, who was endowed with the rarest and the richest 
 qualities. Yet, like almost all women of exceptional 
 intelligence, talents, and beauty, she was predestined 
 to an unhappy life. When she was married, early in 
 1802, she had already had experiences of sadness, 
 grief, and disappointment. Her infancy had been 
 clouded by deep tragedy. Born in Paris, April 10, 
 1783, she had, when five years old, started for Marti- 
 nique with her mother, who was returning home to 
 escape the miseries of her unhappy marriage, and they 
 were nearly lost in a fierce tempest at the mouth of 
 the Seine. Returning to Paris in 1790, she was an eye- 
 
 129 
 
130 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 witness of the horrors of the Revolution, her father, 
 General de Beaiiharnais, being one of its noblest vic- 
 tims. In obedience to a law requiring the children of 
 noblemen to learn a trade, Hortense became a dress- 
 maker's apprentice, and her brother a joiner's, while 
 their parents were in prison. Their former governess 
 carried them, dressed like working-people's children, 
 to the Carmelite Prison, where their mother was 
 locked up. Alexander de Beauharnais was guillo- 
 tined, and only Robespierre's overthrow saved Jose- 
 phine from the same fate. Hortense was eleven at 
 the time, and these terrible events left a lasting im- 
 pression on her sensitive character, stamping it with 
 a melancholy which nothing could dispel. In her 
 happiest moments she was not free from sadness, and 
 her smile was not far from tears. 
 
 In September, 1795, she was entrusted to the care 
 of Madame Campan, formerly a lady-in-waiting to 
 Marie Antoinette. At that time Madame Campan 
 kept a boarding-school in which were revived all 
 the social and religious traditions of the old regime. 
 Hortense's companions were Caroline Bonaparte, the 
 future Queen of Naples ; Stc^phanie de Beauharnais, 
 the future Grand-duchess of Baden ; Leontine de 
 Noailles, daughter of the Duke of Mouchy ; Renee 
 Leclerc, later the wife of jSIarshal Davout ; Elisa 
 Monroe, daughter of the Minister of the United 
 States to the Directory, who afterwards was Presi- 
 dent ; jNIademoiselle Hervas, who married Duroc ; 
 Emilie de Beauharnais, famous in 1815 for her devo- 
 
HOETENSE BE BEAUHABNAIS. 131 
 
 tion to her husband La Valette ; Mademoiselle Coche- 
 let, who subsequently became a reader at the Dutch 
 court. Hortense, who was very fond of her compan- 
 ions, continued her intimacy Avith them even after 
 she became Queen. At the school, her room-mates 
 were Madame Campan's nieces, Adele and Egld 
 Auguier, one of whom became Baroness de Broc, 
 and the other the wife of Marshal Ne}^, Duchess of 
 Elchingen, and Princess de la Moskowa. At this 
 period of her life when, to quote her teachers, she 
 had not " the honor, or the good fortune, or the mis- 
 fortune to be a princess," Hortense was comparatively 
 happy. In her devotion to study and the fme arts, 
 she found more solid joys than in the pomp of great- 
 ness, and she certainly preferred that modest and 
 obscure asylum, the boarding-school at Saint Ger- 
 main, to the splendor of the Dutch palace. 
 
 After her mother's marriage to Bonaparte, Hor- 
 tense soon perceived the power of his genius. She 
 conceived for him a feeling of intense admiration 
 and affection. Bonaparte, too, was as fond of her as 
 if she had been his own child. " He who generally 
 had a low opinion of women," says Madame de R^mu- 
 sat, " always expressed his respect for Hortense, and 
 the way in Avhich he spoke of her and treated her 
 disproves the accusations which have Ijeen brought 
 against her. In her presence his language was al- 
 ways more reserved and decorous. He often appealed 
 to her to decide between her mother and himself, and 
 listened to advice from her which he would not have 
 
132 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 received from any one else. ' Hortense,' he used to 
 sa}^, ' makes me believe in virtue.' " When Bonaparte, 
 after his return from Egypt, wanted to separate from 
 Josephine, it was she who succeeded in calming his 
 wrath. But she was none the less pained by the sus- 
 picions of which her mother was the object, and her 
 uneasiness and distress, though for a moment dis- 
 pelled, soon reappeared. 
 
 Yet Hortense knew some happy moments at the 
 Tuileries and at jMalmaison. Her stepfather's trium- 
 phal entrance into the royal palace, the reviews, the 
 universal joy over the battle of ]Marengo, the enthusi- 
 asm and national pride Avhich fired France, — all these 
 things thrilled her young soul. She was thoroughly 
 patriotic, and worshipped glory. Her songs and poems 
 reflect her character. She was like the mediiieval 
 heroines, the women who inspired knights and trou- 
 badours. The ideas and sentiments of cliivalry were 
 what fed her heart; the harp, the lute, the sword, 
 were always in her thoughts. She might have pre- 
 sided at a tournament, or have been the lady-love of 
 the bravest paladins. At the time of the Consulate 
 there was still poetry in women's hearts. The love 
 of money, which since then has done so much harm 
 to society, had not yet polluted the spring of noble 
 actions. The spirit of sacrifice, heroism, the ideal, 
 were still believed in. It is women who mould 
 the character of men; if they are selfish, avari- 
 cious, self-interested, if they prefer in their lovere 
 money to com age, to beauty, to intelligence, to all 
 
HORTENSE DE BEAUHABNAIS. 133 
 
 the qualities of the heart, men necessarily become 
 prosaic, vulgar, low. We who live in a practical, 
 positive time cannot readily form an idea of the 
 generous enthusiasm, the noble unselfishness, the 
 patriotic pride, the contempt for danger, the thirst 
 for adventure, which existed at the beginning of the 
 century in a generation hardened by such bitter expe- 
 riences, and made bold by the brilliant destinies it 
 saw before it. It was a time when the country, at 
 the sight of great events which seemed to happen 
 by a miracle, possessed a vigor, a lire, a confidence in 
 the future, an audacity which overcame all obstacles 
 and blotted from the dictionary such a word as " im- 
 possible." Men and women had the same inspired 
 passion, glory. After the storms of the Revolution, 
 after the bloodshed of the Terror and the war, peace 
 seemed to smile again, and doubtless Hortense de 
 Beauharnais nourished happy dreams as she moved 
 among the band of warriors, writers, and artists who 
 formed the train of the hero of Marengo. Could she 
 have foreseen her dark future, the death of her chil- 
 dren, the woes of her mother, the soil of France pol- 
 luted by foreign armies, her happiness would have 
 been marred; but those things were providentially 
 hidden. 
 
 Hortense had noticed among the fellow-soldiers of 
 the First Consul liis aide-de-camp, Duroc, a hand- 
 some officer, loyal and chivalrous. At that time 
 young women often fell in love with officers whose 
 sword was their sole fortune, and not with the thought 
 
134 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 that by this sword tlicj might become princes or 
 kings. Their affection was only Avarmer because it 
 was disinterested. To Hortense it seemed perfectly 
 natural to prefer Duroc to the. richest bankers or the 
 grandest nobles, and at first Bonaparte did not oppose 
 liis stepdaughter's choice. He was very fond of 
 Diu'oc ; and since he had married two of his sisters 
 to officers, there seemed to be no good reason why 
 he should not do the same with Hortense. But 
 Josephine was absolutely opposed to this marriage, 
 which seemed to her a very unsuitable one. She 
 wanted to marry her daughter either to some man 
 of the old regime, or to a Bonaparte. For a moment 
 she thought of giving her daughter to M. de Mun, 
 an ^migr^ who had just been permitted to return, 
 and was the possessor of a considerable fortune. But 
 this plan having fallen through, owing to Hortense's 
 opposition, on the grounds that he had been Madame 
 de Stael's lover in Germany, Josephine was only 
 anxious to marry her daughter to Louis Bonaparte. 
 The wife of the First Consul was then tormented by 
 the vision of divorce, which filled her with terror and 
 despair. She thought that by this marriage she could 
 firmly unite the Bonapartes and the Beauharnais. 
 More than that, she thought that even if she were 
 childless, her daughter might not be, and that lier 
 grandson might one day rule over France ; which is, 
 in fact, what happened. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte, who was born at Ajaccio, Sep- 
 tember 2, 1778, was then twenty-three years old. He 
 
HORTENSE BE BEAUIIABNAIS. 135 
 
 had already attained high honors. Since he was four- 
 teen, lie had been on his l)r()t]ier's staff, and he had 
 served creditably in Italy and Egypt. Made colonel 
 of the 5th Dragoons in 1800, he had distinguished 
 himself at Marengo and had taken part in the expe- 
 dition to Portugal. He was not only a brave and 
 cool officer; he had received a thorough education, 
 and displayed an aptitude for literature. His appear- 
 ance Avas agreeable ; he seemed gentle and modest. 
 So far as appearances went, he promised to make an 
 excellent husband. 
 
 Madame C'ampan, as well as Josephine, did her 
 best to give Hortense a good idea of Louis Bonaparte 
 and to persuade her to make a match which seemed 
 in every way desirable. She began with gentle hints ; 
 and knowing that her pupil had no fancy for Louis, 
 she appealed to her reason rather than to imagina- 
 tion. Suspecting Hortense's interest in Duroc, she 
 congratulated her in advance on resisting this infatu- 
 ation : " You must say to yourself," she wrote to her, 
 " that, after the most rigid examination, you are sat- 
 isfied with yourself. I sincerely admire your wisdom, 
 my dear child, and I shall not be afraid to say to the 
 First Consul that, out of twenty ordinary girls whom 
 he may place in the society of a staff composed of 
 young men who share his military occupations and 
 his glor}^, who have every soldierly virtue, twenty 
 will be moved by the respectful glances and atten- 
 tions of these young men. That is the way his two 
 sisters made their choice. Apparently, to judge 
 
136 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 from what your mother has said, that is wliat he 
 feared for you." 
 
 Without mentioning Louis Bonaparte by name, 
 Madame nevertheless referred to him : " You promise 
 me to keep your heart free and ready to accept any 
 proposal that shall not arouse an unconquerable 
 repugnance. In your decision do not decide from ap- 
 pearances alone, but with due regard to qualities and 
 sweetness of disposition." But Madame Campan did 
 not yet feel sure of gaining her cause, as these lines 
 show : " If your heart is free, you will weigh the ad- 
 vantages and the disadvantages ; but if you have any 
 prepossessions, you will see merit only in the one you 
 have chosen. A woman of intelligence finds the same 
 quality in the man she loves, however stupid he may 
 be. His ugliness is a charm that outrivals more 
 regular beauty. In a word, the illusion of love passes 
 away, and the indissoluble tie remains ; the husband 
 is seen as he is, and he is not to blame, for he is not 
 changed. It is wrong to find fault with him; the 
 fault lies in the eyes and the prepossessions of the 
 wife's heart." Obviously, to a young, poetic, roman- 
 tic, enthusiastic girl like Mademoiselle de Beauhar- 
 nais, such cold and prosaic advice could hardly have 
 been agreeable. 
 
 Madame Campan went on ; she appealed to motives 
 of interest and ambition, I might almost say to reasons 
 of state, and ended thus : " Act in such a way that 
 your conduct and Eugene's shall please the First 
 Consul and suit his views about establishing you 
 
HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS. 137 
 
 both. You are one of tlie closest ties between him 
 and your mother ; and if you fall into disgrace, you 
 must not think that you would readily find consola- 
 tion. One may live in a humble position, or even 
 feel that it is pleasant to be obscure ; but it is painful 
 to descend, and this, I assure you, is true." 
 
 This crafty reasoning had but little weight with 
 the young girl, who used to say Avith melancholy, 
 " My stepfather is a comet, and we are only the tail : 
 we must follow him wheresoever he goes, whether it 
 be to good or to evil fortune." She did not let her- 
 self be intoxicated by the brilliancy of her destiny, 
 and she never forgot the stern lessons of her early 
 experience. One day at Malmaison she was late for 
 dinner, and the First Consul had sat down without 
 waiting for her. Josephine went up to her daugh- 
 ter's room, and seeing that she was busy finishing a 
 drawing, asked her if she expected to have to sup- 
 port herself by her skill, since nothing could tear 
 her from her work. " Mamma," answered Hortense, 
 seriously, "who can say what may not happen in 
 times like these ? " 
 
 Greatness had no attraction for this girl, who 
 judged human dignities for wliat they really were. 
 The idea of marrying a man who was almost a 
 prince and would become a king, did not tempt her 
 in the least. But the First Consul was slow at 
 coming to a decision. He had nearly promised the 
 hand of his adopted daughter to Duroc ; and had it 
 not been for Josephine's entreaties, — for she was 
 
138 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 most anxious to have Louis Bonaparte for son-in-law, 
 — Duroc would have been successful. Towards the 
 year 1801 the First Consul had sent to him by 
 s^jecial messenger his commission as general com- 
 manding a division. This reached hinr in Holland, 
 on his way to St. Petersburg, whither he had been 
 sent to congratulate the Emperor Alexander on his 
 accession. Bourrienne tells us that during his ab- 
 sence the correspondence of the young lovers passed 
 through his hands by their consent. He adds that 
 almost every evening at ' Malmaison he used to play 
 billiards with Hortense, who was expert in the game. 
 When he told her in a low voice, " I have a letter," 
 the game stopped, and she ran to her room when he 
 gave her the missive. Then the girl's eyes would 
 fill with tears, and it was long before she would come 
 down to the drawing-room. She still was hopeful. 
 The First Consul said, " It makes no difference what 
 my wife does ; they suit each other, and they Avill 
 marry. I like Duroc ; he is of good birth. I gave 
 Caroline to Murat, and Pauline to Leclerc ; and I 
 can give Hortense to Duroc, who is a capital fellow." 
 But Josephine managed to alter everything. Bour- 
 rienne, who was an eye-witness of her wiles, tells us 
 how she brought over the First Consul to her opinion 
 by her entreaties, her skill, her caresses, and all the 
 devices which she well knew how to move. 
 
 Perhaps Duroc would even then have succeeded, 
 in spite of Josephine, if he had insisted more strenu- 
 ously. But he was modest, with what was really ex- 
 
HOBTENSE BE BEAUHABNAIS. 139 
 
 aggeratecl delicacy ; lie was fearful of being thought 
 an ambitious schemer; he was averse to sowing dis- 
 sension in the household of his chief, his benefactor ; 
 and this dread of annoying the hero he worshipped 
 prevailed over every other feeling. Besides, Bona- 
 parte had given him to understand that if he married 
 Hortense, he should be appointed to the command 
 of the 8th Military Division, and that on the day 
 after the wedding he should leave for Toulon with 
 his wife. The First Consul had added, "I don't 
 want any son-in-law in my house." This threat sin- 
 gularly cooled Duroc's ardor ; for he could not bear 
 to think of separating himself from a chief for whom 
 he had a boundless admiration which was almost 
 idolatry, and, rather than leave him, he abandoned 
 his aspirations to the hand of Mademoiselle de Beau- 
 harnais. 
 
 The girl, who expected a stronger feeling on the 
 part of the man she had chosen, was naturally 
 piqued by his determination. She felt that she was 
 not loved with a fervor equal to her own, and this 
 deception added to her pain. Deprived of Duroc's 
 support, she at last, in despair, yielded to her moth- 
 er's prayers, and her marriage with Louis Bonaparte 
 was settled. 
 
XL 
 
 MADAME LOUIS BONAPARTE. 
 
 PARENTS who persuade tlieir daughter to a 
 marriage of interest or convemenqe, with no 
 concern for her feelings, assume a heavy responsi- 
 bility. They should never forget that, while love 
 often departs, it never comes, after marriage. What 
 more painful than to see a young girl sacrificed to 
 calculations against which the soul revolts? There 
 are abundant felicitations, and the girl is covered 
 with flowers like the victim in ancient sacrifices. 
 But during all the festivities, even at the altar, she 
 suffers keenly. The music of the ball, the hymns of 
 the church, sound to her like a funeral march. In 
 her eyes the flowers she wears on her head are already 
 as faded and withered as her illusions. Under her 
 bridal veil she hides her pallor, perhaps her tears. 
 She answers the compliments that are offered her 
 with a forced smile. The customary compliments 
 sound like irony ; and when the last note of the organ 
 has sounded, and the altar candles are put out, and 
 she is alone, it is not the jewels, or the robes, or a 
 fine-sounding name, or a coronet upon her presents, 
 140 
 
MADAME LOUIS BONAPABTE. 141 
 
 — mere empty trifles, — that can soften the bitter 
 agony of disappointment. 
 
 Madame Campan wrote to Mademoiselle Hortense 
 de Beauharnais : " You are about to form a tie which 
 all Europe will applaud, as I do. I have some slight 
 knowledge of character and of similarities. ... I 
 have noticed in you both a conformity of tastes which 
 assures your domestic happiness. . . . You will unite 
 two families which ought to form one, and both are 
 dear to France. I am sure that you will love each 
 other much and always. Louis was not too much 
 disposed to matrimony. The First Consul, who 
 knows how to remedy every evil, has chosen for him 
 the woman who cannot fail to make him happy by 
 the qualities which he admires, and one can only 
 praise the man who desires such qualities in his wife. 
 Soon, my dear friend, I shall cease to write to you 
 letters of advice. You will have a competent guide. 
 Now the teacher can only rejoice in her work. A 
 marriage based on a similarity of position, education, 
 and tastes, such as all the world sees here, must be 
 the happiest union possible." 
 
 Unfortunately Madame Campan was mistaken. 
 Hortense well knew that her old teacher was wrong 
 in thinking that she understood a girl's heart. Proph- 
 ecies destined to be cruelly disproved did not at all 
 deceive the sad young woman who resigned herself 
 to her fate in silence. Possibly she was afraid to 
 confide to her stepfather her repugnance to the pro- 
 jected union. Bourrienne tells us that she felt a 
 
142 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 respectful timidity before the First Consul, and that 
 she always trembled when she spoke to him ; when- 
 ever she wanted to ask anything of him, it was done 
 through Bourrienne ; and if there was any difficulty, 
 he used to say that Hortense had asked him to make 
 the application. " Little goose ! " Bonaparte would 
 reply, " why doesn't she ask me herself ? Is she 
 afraid of me ? " Yes, Hortense was afraid of the 
 First Consul, and that is why she did not ask him to 
 release her from the union he proposed. Besides, Jose- 
 phine, who was not always acciu-ate in her statements, 
 had at last persuaded her husband that Hortense and 
 Louis were in love, and at Saint Helena he still 
 thought that for a moment there had been a feeling 
 of this sort between the two young people. As for 
 Louis Bonaparte, as soon as he saw that this marriage 
 had been determined by his all-powerful brother, he 
 did not even try to oppose it. Every wish of the 
 First Consul was regarded as a command. Yet he 
 had no more interest in Hortense than Hortense 
 had for him. He wrote in his Memoirs, in speaking 
 of his marriage, " Never was there so gloomy a cere- 
 mony ; never did man and wife have a stronger 
 presentiment of a forced and ill-assorted marriage." 
 At the same time all the numerous courtiers of the 
 First Consul and his wife were speaking with enthu- 
 siasm of a union which flatterers were praising in 
 busy rivalry. 
 
 The civil ceremony took place January 3, 1802, at 
 the Tuileries, in the presence of the Bonaparte and 
 
MADAME LOUIS BONAPARTE. 143 
 
 Beauharnais families. Mass was not yet said in this 
 palace, and it was in the house in tlie rue de la Vic- 
 toire, where Josephine lived when she married Napo- 
 leon, that the marriage took place. In the beginning 
 of 1802, before the Concordat, the church ceremonies 
 were always celebrated in private houses, where un- 
 sworn priests officiated. This mansion had been 
 chosen for the residence of the young couple, and 
 there it was that Cardinal Caprara, who was arrang- 
 ing the terms of the Concordat with the French gov- 
 ernment, gave the nuptial blessing. General Murat 
 and his wife Caroline Bonaparte, who had been civ- 
 illy married two years before, had not yet had the 
 ceremony solemnized before a priest. They took this 
 opportunity to have their situation legalized by the 
 Church, and on the same day as Louis and Hortense, 
 in the same house in the rue de la Victoire, they 
 received the nuptial Ijlessing from Cardinal Caprara. 
 There was another woman, too, who would have 
 gladly enjoyed the same privilege : Josephine. 
 Strangely enough, when the First Consul was busy- 
 ing himself wdth the interests of religion and the 
 re-establishment of the Church, he set the example 
 of the violation of one of its main laws, and, from a 
 religious point of view, his union with Josephine was 
 an unholy one. She was very anxious to put an end 
 to this state of things; but Bonaparte, whether it was 
 that he dreaded to call the attention of the public to 
 the nature of the bond which attached him to his 
 wife, or whether he wished to have a ready excuse 
 
144 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 for divorce whenever he should wish it, obstinately 
 refused to accede to her wishes. This was a mor- 
 tification to her which only added to her daughter's 
 distress. 
 
 Young women have by instinct the art of conceal- 
 ing their emotions ; in this respect they outdo trained 
 diplomatists. No one who saw Madame Louis Bona- 
 parte in the festivities that succeeded her marriage 
 could have guessed the secret torments that agitated 
 her. At the ball given in her honor by Madame de 
 Montesson, the widow of the Duke of Orleans, she 
 had a most enthusiastic success. It was a magnificent 
 entertainment, at which all the splendor of the old 
 regime reappeared. This assemblage of eight hun- 
 dred persons of the highest aristocracy, the brilliant 
 uniforms, the rich dresses, the many diplomatists, the 
 powdered footmen in silk stockings and scarlet livery, 
 the profusion of flowers on the staircase and in the 
 rooms, the great abundance of candelabra and chande- 
 liers, of diamonds and other precious stones, brought 
 back the memory of festal evenings at Versailles. 
 The young bride, with her sweet, intelligent face, 
 her sensitive mouth, her kindly expression, her fine 
 blond hair, her brilliant complexion, her combination 
 of Creole indifference and French vivacity, aroused 
 the admiration of the crowd who gathered about her. 
 She wore a pejDlum over a long tunic j and when she 
 danced with the exquisite grace that marked all her 
 movements, she was like one of the Hours painted on 
 the frescos of Herculaneum. Intelligence, inspiration, 
 
MADAME LOUIS BONAPARTE. 145 
 
 beaut}', shone from lier blue eyes with an undefinable 
 charm. As one of her contemporaries said, she pleased 
 imperatively. The First Consul was delighted Avith 
 the JNIarchioness de Montesson's ball. For a fortnight 
 nothing else was talked of in the Tuileries drawing- 
 room ; it set the tone for the consular society. 
 
 Every one there imagined Hortense perfectly 
 happy, but she w^as suffering in silence ; in silence, 
 for she had too much tact, too much dignity, to com- 
 plain. She went to one party after another, always 
 agreeable, always pleasant and admired, with a smile 
 on her lips and sadness in her heart. She was not 
 yet wholly wretched; but that she soon would be, 
 she clearly foresaw. Her misfortunes were certain 
 to grow with her advance in position. She knew that 
 the higher she rose, the more she would suffer. In 
 comparison with the period which she spent on the 
 throne of Holland, the first few months of her mar- 
 ried life were a happy time. At least she was in her 
 own country, among her friends, near her mother and 
 brother. Later her queen's crown would be heavy on 
 her brow, and every palace she would inhabit would 
 be but a new place of exile. Those who saw her at 
 the Consular Court, of which she was the fairest orna- 
 ment, preserved a tender memory of her irresistible 
 charm, as the Memoirs of her contemporaries testify. 
 Few women have had to the same extent the gift of 
 pleasing. 
 
 In 1802 and the beo-inning- of 1803 Louis Bona- 
 parte, who stood in mortal terror of his brother, did 
 
146 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 not clare to show his whole jealous and quarrelsome 
 character. He did not dare to manifest his evil sus- 
 picions of the First Consul, and he permitted his wife 
 to live at Malmaison, to do the honors there with 
 Josephine, or even alone when Josephine was at 
 Plombieres, and to act in the little theatre by the side 
 of the gallery. Madame Louis Bonaparte, as Rosina 
 in the " Barber of Seville," was really admirable. It 
 was said of her that " if she had been the wife of the 
 First Consul's aide-de-camp, she would always have 
 been applauded for her perfect acting." She was 
 very graceful and charming as the young Andalusian 
 girl, with her sweet, saucy air, her bright eyes, and 
 her thick black curls beneath a black velvet hat 
 decorated with long pink feathers. After one of the 
 performances of the " Barber of Seville," the First 
 Consul wrote to his wife at Plombieres, July 1, 1803 : 
 " I have received your letter of the 10th Messidor. 
 You say nothing about your health or the effect of 
 the baths. I see that you mean to come back in a 
 week, and that is a great pleasure to me, for I much 
 miss you. You must have seen General Ney, who is 
 leaving for Plombieres ; he is to be married on his 
 return. Hortense played Rosina yesterday in the 
 ' Barber of Seville ' with her usual intelligence." 
 
 Madame Louis Bonaparte sought in study, in paint- 
 ing, and in music, consolation for the sorrows of an 
 uncongenial marriage ; but in the arts she saw only 
 their melancholy side. She was naturally affection- 
 ate, and with a husband capable of understanding and 
 
3fADAME LOUIS BONAPARTE. 147 
 
 esteeming her, she would have been perhaps a model 
 wife ; instead, she was the companion of a man ill 
 in body and mind, morose, discontented, uneasy, and 
 suspicious. According to Madame de R^musat, she 
 took untiring pains to please the husband whom she 
 had the misfortune not to love ; she was gentle, sub- 
 missive, deferential. But her husband, instead of 
 being grateful, was only annoyed. " She is practising 
 on me," he used to say, " in order to deceive me." 
 He let her see his aversion to his stepsister and 
 mother-in-law, Josephine, whom he regarded as an 
 enemy of the Bonapartes, and whom he did not hesi- 
 tate to represent to Hortense in the most odious light. 
 Hortense, who had warmly loved her mother, and had 
 remained a Beauharnais at heart, Avas deeply wounded 
 by her husband's remarks, when he would say to her, 
 " You are now a Bonaparte, and our interests ought 
 to be your interests ; those of your family don't con- 
 cern you any more," and when he went on to say, 
 that he was determined to take every precaution nec- 
 essary to escape the common fate of husbands, and 
 that he should not be duped by any attempt to avoid 
 him, or by any pretences of affection that were de- 
 signed to blind him. 
 
 These odious suspicions filled with indignation 
 Hortense's haughty and sensitive soul. Her brow 
 darkened as she saw the cloud gathering, and her 
 surprise at the heartlessness that threatened her, 
 filled her with disgust for honors that were purchased 
 at so high a price. Then terrible insult awaited her: 
 
148 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 she was tortured by hearing that her pure and noble 
 affection for her father-in-hxw had been misinterpreted, 
 and that the First Consul was accused of an unholy- 
 passion for her, which she returned. This detestable 
 calumny only added to Louis Bonaparte's suspicions, 
 and henceforth he was placed in a painful and diffi- 
 cult position in regard to his brother. This is what 
 Madame de R^musat says : " The Bonapartes, and 
 especially Madame Murat, who had opposed this mar- 
 riage with some violence, because, since Joseph's 
 children were all girls, it was evident that if Louis 
 had a son, who would be Josephine's grandson, he 
 would at once be a very important child, spread 
 abroad the detestable rumor of the intimacy of the 
 First Consul with his stej)daughter. The public 
 heard it with delight. Madame Murat confided it 
 to Louis, Avho, whether he believed it or not, only re- 
 doubled his precautions. Servants were taught to 
 spy, letters and notes were opened, all acquaintances 
 were frowned on, even Eugene was regarded with 
 jealousy ; there was a series of violent scenes ; the 
 poor woman knew no rest." 
 
 October 10, 1802, Madame Louis Bonaparte gave 
 birth, at Paris, to a son, who was to die at the Hague, 
 May 5, 1807. Madame Campan at this time wrote to 
 the mother about the way in which Louis, in acces- 
 sion of amiability, had celebrated the birthday of his 
 first-born. " You were moved by it ; your tender 
 heart must have been moved. But, — I know you 
 well, — did you show it ? I am well aware that 
 
MADA3IE LOUIS BONAPARTE. 149 
 
 simple, pure souls, that have been well trained, de- 
 spise all demonstrations, but sometimes with the best 
 motives errors are made." How could Hortense be 
 happy, even by the side of her child's cradle, when 
 she knew that calumny did not spare even this little 
 being? when every mark of Napoleon's interest in 
 the infant was to the public additional proof of her 
 degradation ? 
 
 Bourrienne, who is generally severe, and especially 
 towards the First Consul, denounced these vile insin- 
 uations most severely. " I am glad," he says in his 
 Memoirs, "to be able to give the most formal and 
 positive lie to these infamous suppositions. They lie 
 in their throat when they say that Bonaparte had 
 any other feeling for Hortense than that of a step- 
 father for his stepdaughter. The whole disgusting 
 story is a lie, and yet it spread not only throughout 
 France, but into every corner of Europe. Is there 
 no way of escaping vile gossip ? " 
 
 Napoleon was much concerned at these reports, and 
 Josephine was horrified. Their happiness at the 
 birth of the child was poisoned by the prevalent 
 rumor. "Poor Josephine," says Bourrienne, "paid 
 a high price for her glory. Knowing the groundless- 
 ness of these reports, I tried to console her by telling 
 her how I tried to show their wickedness and falsity. 
 But Bonaparte, under the influence of the affection 
 of which he was the object, only augmented his wife's 
 grief. He was deluded enough to imagine that the 
 whole thing was due to the desire of the country to 
 
150 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 see an heir ; consequently, when he tried to console 
 her as a mother, he pained her as a wife, and the 
 vision of a divorce returned. In his wild illusion, 
 Bonaparte imagined that France wanted to be gov- 
 erned by a bastard, which is a curious way of estab- 
 lishing a new legitimacy." Hortense was not ambi- 
 tious. All the plans formed about her baby's cradle 
 only annoyed her. She thought that such calcula- 
 tions only lessened the natiu^al feelings, by altering 
 its poetry and sanctity. Private life seemed to her 
 preferable to that of a queen, and she hated to think 
 that in France, or elsewhere, he might become the 
 heir to a throne. 
 
 Even at Saint Helena Napoleon recalled these un- 
 happy calumnies, and in his "Memorial" may be 
 found this curious passage : " Louis was a cliild 
 spoiled by reading Jean Jacques Rousseau. He 
 could not be long satisfied with his wife. A good 
 deal of unreasonableness on his side and of lightness 
 on hers, these were the wrongs on each side." And 
 then he once more defends himself, saying that crim- 
 inal intimacies of that sort suited neither his ideas 
 nor his habits, and any one who had the slightest 
 knowledge of the Tuileries, would understand how 
 impossible would be such a revolting crime. " Louis 
 knew what value to set on such rumors ; but his vain, 
 capricious character was shocked, and he made use 
 of them as pretexts." 
 
 Josephine, who was jealousy incarnate, at times 
 thought her husband guilty, possibly her daughter. 
 
MADAME LOUIS BONAPARTE. 151 
 
 The Boiiapartes made the most of these sources of 
 dissension, for even under the Republic there flour- 
 ished all the intrigues and low ambitions of a court. 
 Hortense, who was naturally sentimental and ro- 
 mantic, felt herself a stranger amid such surround- 
 ings. She missed the happy dreams of her youth 
 and her swiftly vanished happiness. Very early and 
 precocious experience had taught her all that was 
 vilest and most cowardly in human nature. This 
 generous young woman, whose aspirations had been 
 most noble, with her passion for art, her love of the 
 ideal, woke from these lofty visions to find herself 
 in a low, malicious world. Her health was affected, 
 and she needed all her resignation and generosity to 
 avoid reproaching her mother for having thus sacri- 
 ficed her. Later she will be guilty of unpardonable 
 faults, but in defence of these may be pleaded ex- 
 tenuating circumstances, because she will yield to 
 affection and not to calculations of interest. That 
 is the reason for the sympathy that was shown to her 
 by her contemporaries of all parties, even when her 
 errors were most notorious. Not merely the friends 
 of Imperialism, but even the bitterest foes of Napo- 
 leon respected her. In 1814 the Emperor Alexander 
 treated her with regard and devotion. At about the 
 same time, Madame de Kriidener wrote to Madem- 
 oiselle Cochelet about the then unthroned Queen : 
 " What news of this angel whom you love so much, 
 and to whom my heart nourishes respectful devo- 
 tion?" And later, Chateaubriand became the courtier 
 of this lady in exile, when she was sanctified by grief. 
 
XII. 
 
 MADAJVtE JUNOT. 
 
 MADAME JUNOT, who, a few years later, be- 
 came the Duchess of Abrant^s, was a brilliant 
 figure among the young women who formed the Con- 
 sular Court. Her high birth, her intelligence, her 
 beauty, her marriage, all placed her in the front rank. 
 She was the daughter of a very beautiful woman, 
 Madame de Permon, a great friend of the Bonapartes, 
 and was born at Montpellier in" 1784. The Permons 
 were a Corsican family, of Greek origin, who also 
 bear the name of Comnenus, tradition saying that 
 they belonged to the line of the Eastern emperors. 
 Madame de Permon, who at Ajaccio had been a 
 neighbor of Madame Letitia Bonaparte, always loved 
 her as a sister, and it was at her house at Montpellier 
 that Charles Bonaparte, the brother of the future 
 Emperor, died. After the Revolution she established 
 herself in Paris, in a pretty house in the Chaussde 
 d'Antin, and there she received those people of the 
 old r^gfime who had sur^dved the sreneral ruin. The 
 young Napoleon Bonaparte, whom she treated as a 
 boy, asked her to marry him, althouoh she was a good 
 153 
 
MADAME JUNOT. 153 
 
 many yeare older than he : but she was far from ac- 
 cepting his suit ; she merely smiled at it. During the 
 Directory, Madame de Permon, who was intimate 
 with what remained of the society of the Faubourg 
 Saint Gpermain, was one of the most conspicuous 
 women in Paris. She might have been taken for the 
 sister of her daughter Laure, the future Duchess of 
 Abrantes, a charming girl whose grace and pre- 
 cocious intelligence delighted every one. 
 
 After the 18th Brumaire, Laure de Permon mar- 
 ried one of the bravest and most brilliant of the 
 First Consul's fellow-soldiers, the young General 
 Junot, who was born at Bussey-le-Grand in 1771. 
 He was as chivalrous and adventurous as a knight 
 of the Crusades, madly reckless of his money and his 
 life, devoted to women, war, and glory. As governor 
 of Paris, he occupied a magnificent house, a present 
 from the First Consul in the rue des Champs Elysees 
 (now the rue Boissy d'Anglas). Their first child, 
 a daughter, born in 1801, had for sponsors at its 
 baptism Bonaparte and Josephine. Her godfather 
 gave her a beautiful pearl necklace ; and her god- 
 mother, one hundred thousand francs for furnishing 
 the house in the rue des Champs Elysees. In the 
 spring of 1802 Junot and liis wife, for a housewarm- 
 ing, gave a ball which was honored by the presence 
 of the First Consul. He examined the house from 
 cellar to garret, and, pleased to see his companion, 
 thanks to his munificence, so comfortably established, 
 he stayed at the ball till one o'clock in the morning. 
 
154 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 That evening Josephine wore in her hair a crown of 
 vine-branches with bunches of purple grapes, and 
 her dress, embroidered with silver, was trimmed with 
 bunches of grapes like those in her hair. Her 
 daughter, Madame Louis Bonaparte, danced like a 
 sylph. She wore a classical dress, a peplum of crape 
 embroidered with silver, and on her head she wore a 
 crown of roses. 
 
 In spite of the kindness of the First Consul to 
 Junot, Madame de Permon, who continued to think 
 herself of higher birth and social position than the 
 Bonapartes, assumed a protecting attitude towards 
 them, and she was not fascinated by the hero of 
 Marengo, whom she had known poor, obscure, and 
 young. She was not sparing of lier criticisms, doubt- 
 less wishing that he would pay his court to her as 
 he had already done. She was annoyed, for example, 
 that he did not leave his card after spending an 
 evening in company at her house, and to soothe her 
 feelings her son said, "But he's a very great man." 
 " Well, what difference does that make ? IMarshal 
 Saxe was a great man too, but yet he used to make 
 visits." 
 
 Madame Junot inherited her mother's independent 
 and somewhat caustic character. In conversation 
 she was able to cope not only with the First Consul's 
 sisters, but even with himself, as we may see from 
 this anecdote taken from her Memoirs. 
 
 The scene is at Malmaison, where Bonaparte was 
 alone, Josephine having gone to Plombieres on ac- 
 
MABAME JUNOT. 155 
 
 count of her health. Her husband still writes to her 
 affectionate letters, but he is certainly less deeply 
 in love than he was in the Italian campaign. He 
 writes : " We are rather gloomy here, though Hor- 
 tense does the honors of the house admirably. . . . 
 I love you as much as I ever did, because you are 
 kind and especially lovable. ... A thousand good 
 wishes and many kisses." In fact, the First Consul 
 readily consoled himself for Josephine's absence. 
 He liked to be at Malmaison, and he discharged his 
 duties as host with much charm; he was pleasant, 
 happy, and full of animation. Madame Louis Bona- 
 parte, to console him, had brought together a number 
 of young and pretty women, among whom was 
 Madame Junot, who had been recently married. 
 The husbands of these ladies were for the most part 
 detained by their duties in Paris. From time to 
 time they came out to Malmaison to dine Avith the 
 First Consul, leaving for Paris the same evening. 
 Their wives stayed at Malmaison, occupying the 
 little guest-chambers which opened on the long cor- 
 ridors on the first floor. Junot stayed at his post as 
 governor of Paris and left his wife peaceably under 
 the protection of Madame Louis Bonaparte. 
 
 One morning Madame Junot, who had been sleep- 
 ing soundly, awoke with a start. Judge of her sur- 
 prise, whom did she see near her bed? She fancied 
 herself dreaming, rubbed her eyes, and then burst 
 out laughing. " Yes, it is I," said Bonaparte ; " why 
 are you so surprised ? " It was evidently very early, 
 
156 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 and Madame Jmiot held out her watch before the 
 First Consul's face ; it was not yet five o'clock. 
 " Indeed," said Bonaparte, " is it no later than that ? 
 Well, so much the better ; we can talk." Then he 
 pushed an easy-chair up near the bed, sat down 
 calmly, and instead of talking ran over a huge bundle 
 of letters, on which she saw written in large char- 
 acters : " For the First Consul himself, for him 
 alone ; personal." For a whole hour he went through 
 his correspondence. The clock sounded. " The 
 deuce ! six o'clock. Good-by, Madame Junot." 
 Then through the bedclothes he pinched her foot, 
 and with his papers under his arm went off, hum- 
 ming some little song horribly out of tune. 
 
 The next morning the same thing happened. At 
 the same hour the First Consul had the maid open 
 the door, sat down by Madame Junot's bed, without 
 apologizing for waking her so early, ran over his 
 letters and papers, pinched her foot through the bed- 
 clothes, bade her good-by, and went off singing. As 
 soon as he was gone, Madame Junot called her maid 
 and said, " I forbid your opening the door when any 
 one knocks at such an early hom\" " But, ma'am, if 
 it's the First Consul ? " "I don't want to be waked 
 up so early by the First Consul or any one else. Do 
 what I tell you." That evening Madame Junot 
 repeated her orders, and went to bed somewhat dis- 
 turbed, wondering if it was advisable for her to stay 
 at Malmaison. She loved the First Consul as a sister 
 loves a brother but what were his feelings ? 
 
MADAME JUNOT. 157 
 
 The next morning at six she heard steps in the 
 corridor, and some one knocked at the door. No one 
 opened it. He knocked again. The maid said, "I 
 can't open the door ; Madame Junot has taken the 
 key." He went away without any answer, and 
 Madame Junot breathed again. In a few moments 
 she had fallen asleep, but she was soon aroused again, 
 lor the door was opened, and Bonaparte, who had 
 entered with a pass-key, appeared : " Are you afraid 
 you will be murdered," he said. " We hunt at But- 
 tard to-morrow, you know. We shall start early, 
 and to make sure that you are ready, I shall come 
 myself to wake you. Since you are not among a 
 band of Tartars, you need not lock yourself up as 
 you have done. Then, too, you see that all your 
 precautions against an old friend don't prevent his 
 getting to you. Good-by!" And he went off, but 
 this time he did not sing. 
 
 Madame Junot was in despair. The First Consul 
 left her room at the moment when the servant- 
 women were passing through the corridor about 
 their work. What would they say about a young 
 woman who receives visitors at that hour of the 
 morning ? It would be more than imprudent to stay 
 at Malmaison; but to leave would offend the First 
 Consul, distress Madame Louis Bonaparte, arouse 
 Junot's suspicions, and give rise to malicious com- 
 ments. The poor yovmg woman was sadly perplexed, 
 when suddenly she felt two arms embracing her ten- 
 derly and heard a well-known voice saying, "What 
 
158 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 is the matter, Laure?" This time it was not the 
 First Consul, hut Junot, who had come out to pass 
 the day at Mahnaison, and was much surprised to 
 find his wife so agitated. " My dear, I want to go 
 away ; I want to go back to Paris." " Oh, you may 
 be sure that as soon as Madame Bonaparte returns 
 from Plombi^res, I shall take you away." "But 
 why not now?" "Now? Before she gets back? 
 Nonsense, my dear child." Madame Junot did not 
 insist. Her plan was made. 
 
 That evening Junot dined at the table of the First 
 Consul, who was most gay and agreeable, and after 
 dinner he took leave to return to the city; for as 
 governor he was unable to be absent a single night. 
 Before leaving he went up to his wife's room for a 
 moment, and she, by dint of entreaties and endear- 
 ments, succeeded in persuading him, in spite of 
 orders, to spend the night. 
 
 The next morning Madame Junot awoke just as 
 five was striking. Everything was calm and silent 
 in the beautiful light of early morning ; and as she 
 gazed at her husband, and saw the glorious scars 
 upon his brow, she felt safe, and thought to herself, 
 " I don't fear anything ; he will protect me." 
 
 At that moment the door was opened violently. 
 " What, still asleep), Madame Junot, when we are 
 going hunting ! " She recognized the voice of the 
 First Consul ; and he came forward, pushed aside 
 the bed-curtain, and stood motionless with surprise 
 as his eye fell on his companion-in-arms. Junot 
 
MADAME JUNOT. 159 
 
 started up, quite as much surprised. "Heavens, 
 general ! what are you doing in a lady's room at 
 this hour of the day?" The First Consul answered 
 in the same tone, " I came to wake up Madame Junot 
 in time for the hunt. ... I might find fault, for, 
 M. Junot, you are here in disobedience to orders." 
 "General," said the governor of Paris, "if there ever 
 was fault that deserved to be pardoned, it is this. 
 If you had seen this little siren for a full hour last 
 evening trying to persuade me to stay, I am siu"e you 
 would forgive me." " Well, I pardon you com- 
 pletely," answered Bonaparte ; " and to show that I 
 am not angry, I will let you come to the hunt with us." 
 And with these words he left the room. " Upon my 
 word," said Junot, arising, "he is an excellent man. 
 What kindness ! instead of finding fault, or sending 
 me back to Paris. You must confess, Laure, that 
 he is really far above ordinary mortals." 
 
 When they were starting for the hunt, and keep- 
 ers, horses, dogs, and carriages were all assembled 
 before the castle, and Junot was choosing a horse, 
 his wife got into a small barouche with the First 
 Consul. Soon they were off, and the following dia- 
 logue took place: "Madame, you think yourself very 
 intelligent, do you not?" "Oh! not extraordinarily 
 intelligent; but I don't think I am a fool." "A fool, 
 no ; but a goose. Can you tell me why you made 
 your husband stay ? " " My explanation will be 
 short and clear, general. He is my husband ; and 
 there is no offence, I suppose, in a husband's staying 
 
160 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 with his wife." " Then you had no other reason 
 than your affection for him when you asked him to 
 stay ? " " No, general." " You are not telling the 
 truth. ... I know why you did so : you distrusted 
 me, as you should not have done. Ah, you see you 
 don't answer ! " " And if I had another motive than 
 this distrust of which you speak ; if I knew that 
 your visits at such an hour in the room of a woman 
 of my age would compromise me in the eyes of those 
 who are here with me, and if I had taken this means 
 to stop them " — " If that is the case, why didn't 
 you speak to me? Have I not in the last week 
 shown friendliness enough to deserve your confi- 
 dence? The next step would have been, doubtless, 
 to tell Junot what you had imagined." " Heavens, 
 general ! how could such an idea occur to you, 
 knowing him as you do? He is as violent as Othello. 
 If I had told Junot all that has happened in the last 
 week, neither he nor I would be here this morning." 
 " Won't you, then, believe that I mean you no 
 harm?" "Certainly, general; I am so sure that 
 you do not mean me ill, that I can assure you that 
 my attachment for you, which dates from my child- 
 hood, and my admiration, are not in the least dimin- 
 ished ; and there is my hand in token." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation the First Consul took 
 off his glove and held out his hand to Madame Junot, 
 saying, " You must believe in my friendship for you ; 
 it depended only on you to make it something solid. 
 And yet you wish to leave Malmaison ? " " Yes, 
 
31 A DAME JUXOT. 161 
 
 general, after the hunt. I have persuaded Junot to 
 take me away." " And when shall you be back ? " 
 " When I am needed for the play, general ; but you 
 can dispose of my room ; I shall not occupy it any 
 longer, I assure you." "As you please. Besides, 
 you are right in going away this morning ; after this 
 stupid business you and I could have no pleasure in 
 meeting." And, opening the door of the barouche 
 with his own hand, Bonaparte sprang out, got on a 
 horse, and galloped away. That same afternoon M. 
 and Mme. Junot were back in Paris. 
 
 This adventure at Malmaison, thus recounted by 
 Madame Junot, makes an admirable pendant to the 
 adventure at the camp at Barlogue, told by Madame 
 de R^musat. At heart both of these ladies were glad 
 to carry the impression that Napoleon felt a tender 
 interest in them, and Avith a little coquetry they 
 could have made a conquest of the conqueror. They 
 insinuate that their virtue alone forbade this victory. 
 However this may be, if we suppose that the First 
 Consul's affection for Madame Junot was purely 
 fraternal, — paternal I cannot say, for Bonaparte was 
 then but thirty years old, — we must confess that 
 were he another Scipio, his conduct was not prudent, 
 and that his choice of working-room exposed him to 
 a temptation to which even a consul might succumb. 
 Madame Junot did well to leave Malmaison. Some 
 people pretend that this incident is the reason why 
 her husband was never made a Marshal of France, 
 but it seems incredible that Napoleon should not be 
 
162 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 above such petty spite. At any rate, the Duchess of 
 Abrantes and the Countess de Remusat show us how 
 Napoleon treated women, with a mixture of rough- 
 ness and amiability ; gallantry he never showed. In 
 fact, he feared them more than he loved them ; it 
 touched his pride to think that he might be subject 
 to their influence. If Madame Junot had fallen in 
 love with the First Consul, she would not have been 
 Ills mistress ; he would have been her master. He 
 might have had a caprice for her; he would never 
 have loved her. 
 
 A few days after the incident recounted above, 
 Madame Junot went out to Malmaison to make a 
 visit to Josephine, who had just returned from Plom- 
 bieres. She stayed to dinner, and at ten o'clock 
 asked for her carriage. Just as she was about to 
 start, a terrible thunder-storm arose. " I sha'n't let 
 you go, in weather like this ! " said Josephine, " I 
 will go and have a room made ready for you" ; and 
 she started to the door to give her orders. Madame 
 Junot stopped her, on the pretext that she had no 
 clothes and no maid. " I will lend you one of my 
 nightcaps, and everything that you want," replied 
 Josephine, " and one of my maids shall wait upon 
 you. Come, you Avdll stay, won't you? Besides, how 
 could you get through the woods at this hour? It 
 wouldn't be safe. You know how dangerous the 
 Bonj^val woods are." Meanwhile, the First Con,sul 
 was standing by the fireplace, busily arranging a log 
 with the tongs, and taking no part in the con versa- 
 
MADAME JUNOT. 163 
 
 tion. As Madame Bonaparte renewed her entreaties, 
 lie said, still holding the tongs, " Don't torment her 
 any longer, Josephine : I know her ; she won't stay." 
 If we have dwelt perhaps too long on this anec- 
 dote, it has been to give a definite notion of the way 
 in which these Memoirs of the Duchess of Abrantes 
 are written. Doubtless they bear traces of the haste 
 in which they were composed; they contain many 
 errors, and are inexact ; many of the conversations 
 are more fictitious than real, and belong to romance 
 rather than to history ; there is a good deal of pad- 
 ding, and much ore by the side of the gold. But in 
 spite of these faults, there is a charm and abundant 
 life and animation in this collection of the pictures 
 of so many illustrious persons, ^he Duchess de- 
 scribes a play that she has seen from the boxes. 
 When she describes the Parisian drawing-rooms, of 
 "which she was one of the main ornaments, she can 
 say "et quorum pars magna fui." If her Memoirs 
 had been more formally written, they would have 
 been less agreeable reading : their faults, their care- 
 lessness even, only add to the charm. They are like 
 an easily flowing conversation, in turn serious and 
 idle, sad and gay, ironical and enthusiastic. That is 
 the way a great lady talks whose smile and tears 
 are always charming, who makes delicate fun of 
 absurdities, and is eloquently indignant with petti- 
 ness and meanness. The reader perceives her love 
 for everything fine, for letters, for love, for glory. 
 Like Madame de R(3niusat, she was an eye-witness 
 
164 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 of the reaction in Parisian society against the glories 
 of the Consulate and the Empire, but she reacted 
 against this tendency. Her friend, the great novelist 
 Balzac, but for whom, it is said, she would never 
 have written the Memoirs, strongly urged her to 
 remain faithful to her Memoirs, and sometimes to rise 
 into the region of poetry. Hence the pages of real in- 
 spiration that intersperse the pages of trifling anec- 
 dotes and boudoir gossip. And when the Dachess 
 recalls the springtime of her life, those happy hours 
 when France was great and glorious, her language 
 glows with the fire of enthusiasm. " My country," 
 she writes, " my beloved country ! My country ! 
 There is a magic charm in the letters composing this 
 and which is like the name of the being we love. . . . 
 When I recall those glorious days — the laurels where- 
 of were f§d with the blood of him whose name I bear 
 — my soul, overwhelmed by so many disasters, both ' 
 public and private, my heart, wearied by the long 
 silence of songs of war and victory which I heard in 
 my cradle, in my youth, in all my life until the days 
 of our shame, — my soul, my heart, I say, are moved 
 anew, and I glow with the pride which used to make 
 us raise our heads and say, ' I too am French.' " 
 
 Is not this fitting language for a noble woman, 
 who, in 1814, when completely ruined, could have 
 secured for her eldest son the very rich succession of 
 Aeken, if she had agreed to make him change his 
 nationality, but who, preferring for him the name of 
 " Frenchman " and poverty, refused ? Junot had 
 
MADAME JUNOT. 165 
 
 been in possession of an income of more than a mil- 
 lion of francs, and his widow was penniless; nothing 
 was left her but her intelligence and her pride. Why- 
 is there not a new edition of the eighteen volumes 
 of her Memoirs and of the six volumes of her 
 "History of the Parisian Drawing-rooms," which 
 abound with original and amusing anecdotes, and 
 with sketches and portraits drawn by a firm and 
 graceful hand? Madame Amet, the worthy daugh- 
 ter of the Duchess of Abrantes, who was born at the 
 beginning of the century, and remembers Napoleon 
 and Josephine, her godparents, could better than any 
 one prepare the notes and the Introduction which 
 would recall her mother's charming person. At once 
 an artist and a fine lady, a woman of letters and 
 of the drawing-room, generous to a fault with her 
 money and her intelligence, as cheerful in poverty as 
 in wealth, as much admired by Parisian society in 
 the humblest apartment as in her splendid mansion 
 of the rue des Champs Elys^es, a noble nature, rising 
 above vulgar ambitions and petty calculations, the 
 Duchess of Abrantes occupies a place apart in the 
 company of the celebrated women of the Consulate 
 and the Empire. It is with real emotion that one 
 reads the verses which Victor Hugo dedicated to 
 her memory. The woman who inspired that poet, 
 Balzac, and so many great writers with such devoted 
 friendship, was certainly no ordinary woman. 
 
XIII. 
 
 THE TE DEUM FOR THE CONCOBDAT. 
 
 MEN'S decisions often rest on many grounds ; 
 and often when tliey are thought to be moved 
 only by calculation, they are moved quite as much 
 by sentiment. This was the case, if we are not mis- 
 taken, with Napoleon, when he brought about the 
 restoration of religion in 1802. Above all things, he 
 was a politician; but besides being a politician, he 
 was a Christian. Doubtless his faith was not very 
 profound ; he did not observe the forms of religion, 
 and he felt the influence of the eighteenth century 
 and of the Revolution. But in spite of Voltaire, he 
 had learned in his infancy to respect Catholicism: 
 perhaps he was not perfectly sure that the Roman 
 Church was true ; but he was less certain that it was 
 false. The feeling which led him to say on his 
 death-bed: "Not every one who wants to be, is an 
 atheist," makes itself clear with more or less dis- 
 tinctness, as the circumstances determine, through- 
 out his career. As Thiers said, "It is intelligence 
 that discovers intelligence in the universe ; and a 
 great mind is better capable than a small one of see- 
 166 
 
THE TE JDEUM FOB THE CONCORDAT. 167 
 
 iiig God in his Avorks." Bonaparte was not simply 
 a deist ; there was in his character a deep stamp of 
 Catholicism. " When we were at Malmaison," says 
 Bourrienne, "and used to walk in the avenue that 
 led to Rueil, the sound of the village church-bell 
 often interrupted our conversations. He would stop 
 in order not to lose a bit of the sound, which de- 
 lighted him. It used to move him so deeply that he 
 would say : ' That reminds me of my early years at 
 Brienne. I was happy at that time.' Then the bell 
 would stop, and he would resume his mighty reve- 
 ries." The sound of the bell at Rueil was not with- 
 out its influence on the Concordat. 
 
 According to the " Memorial," Napoleon said at 
 Saint Helena : " It would be hard to believe the resis- 
 tance I met to restoring Catholicism. T should have 
 met with less opposition ^if I had unfolded the ban- 
 ners of Protestantism." Edgar Quinet considers that 
 an erroneous assertion. He says that if the First 
 Consul had tried to introduce into France any relig- 
 ious innovations, he would have been in direct and 
 open contradiction with himself ; and that Catholi- 
 cism alone agreed with the form and the logical cohe- 
 rence of liis plans. " Examine closely his thought," 
 adds Quinet, " and you will observe that his ideal was 
 the Empire of Constantine and Theodosius, and this 
 tradition he inherited from his ancestors, like all the 
 Italian Ghibellines. So far from inclining towards 
 the religious emancipation of the individual con- 
 science, he always had a vision of a pope whose 
 
168 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 emperor and master he should be, — a conception 
 which is exactly that of the Ghibellines and the com- 
 mentators of the Middle Ages. From this combina- 
 tion of the Italian and the French genius grew the 
 extraordinary logic by which he so easily drove back 
 France to the political institutions of Charlemagne. 
 . . . This man, who, in so many respects, was ex- 
 tremely modern, in others resembled a ruler of the 
 Middle Ages, a Carlovingian." 
 
 It is certain that he started froui the idea that 
 France having become great by the cross and the 
 sword, it was by the cross and the sword that it was 
 to preserve its greatness. And is it not, indeed, an 
 absolute law of history that a people preserves its 
 force only by remaining faithful to the principles by 
 which it attained it ? 
 
 "■ Every society," says Thiers, "• demands a religious 
 belief and form of worship. . . . What better thing, 
 then, can a civilized society demand than a national 
 religion, founded on the true feelings of the human 
 heart, in harmony with the rules of high morality, 
 consecrated by time, and which, without intolerance 
 or persecution, brings together, if not all, at least 
 the great majority, of the citizens, at the foot of an 
 ancient and revered altar ? " And he goes on with 
 fervor : " It existed, this religion which had brought 
 under its dominion all civilized peoples, had formed 
 their morals, insjnred their songs, furnished the sub- 
 jects for their poetry, their pictures, their statues, left 
 its stamp on all their national memories, marked with 
 
THE TE DEUM FOR THE CONCORDAT. 169 
 
 its sign their banners in turn vanquished or victo- 
 rious. It had disappeared for a moment in a great 
 storm that swept over men's minds ; but when that 
 storm had passed, the necessity of belief returned, 
 and this was again found in every soul, the natural 
 and indispensable faith of France and of Europe. . . . 
 What more necessary, more inevitable, in 1800, than 
 to lift up the altar of Saint Louis, of Charlemagne, 
 and of Clovis, which had been for a moment over- 
 thrown ? " 
 
 Yet the First Consul needed rare perseverance for 
 the accomplishment of such a task. There are periods 
 when hyjjocrisy is the fashion, but there are others 
 when the opposite quality prevails — I mean the fear 
 of man. This was the case with a large part of 
 French society. The country people remained Chris- 
 tian and Catholic ; but in the aristocracy, in the 
 middle classes, and especially in the army, Voltairian 
 ideas had made great ravages. It needed all Bona- 
 parte's authority to silence the sarcasms of his gen- 
 erals ; and it was not by persuasion, but rather by a 
 discipline of iron, that he collected them about the 
 altar of Notre Dame, as if for a review or a parade. 
 
 No resistance could discourage the First Consul, 
 because he was convinced that Catholicism, so far 
 from being dead, as some people imagined, was still 
 living in the habits, the civilization, and the inner 
 life of some who called themselves its bitterest ene- 
 mies. He did not think its principles incompatible 
 with those of the Revolution, as it began, while still 
 
170 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 unstained by excesses, and he remembered that Pope 
 Pius VII. had said in a homily, December 25, 1797, 
 when he was only Bishop of Imola : " Be good Chris- 
 tians, and you Avill be good democrats. The early 
 Christians were full of the spirit of democracy." 
 Pius VII. sent to Paris Cardinal Consalvi, who, 
 after long and laborious negotiations, concluded with 
 Joseph Bona})arte, aided by Cr^tet, Counsellor of 
 State, and Abb^ Bernier, the Concordat of July 15, 
 1801. It was presented to the legislative bodies 
 along with the laws concerning the Catholic worship, 
 and the various Protestant forms, April 8, 1802, and 
 was adopted without discussion. Ten days later, on 
 Easter Sunday, the First Consul determined to have 
 a great religious ceremony take place at Notre Dame, 
 and one which also had its worldly side. 
 
 Bonaparte wished on the same day to ratify at the 
 Tuileries the treaty of Berlin, and to be present, at 
 Notre Dame, at the mass and Te Deum for the estab- 
 lishment of the Concordat. He left his palace in 
 great pomp. Officials of all kinds and a brilliant 
 staff escorted him. Josephine, who accompanied 
 him, was also numerously attended by the prettiest 
 and most fashionable ladies of Paris. The troops 
 formed two lines between the palace and the cathe- 
 dral. Everywhere the crowd assembled to see the 
 First Consul, whose red coat attracted every eye. On 
 reaching Notre Dame, he descended slowly from his 
 carriage, and was received at the door by the Arch- 
 bishop of Paris, who presented him with holy water, 
 
THE TE DEUM FOR THE CONCOEDAT. 171 
 
 and led him under a canopy to the place reserved for 
 him in the choir, near the high altar. Behind him, 
 the generals, in full uniform, stood throughout the 
 long ceremony. The members of the Senate, the 
 legislative Ijody, and the Tribunate, were placed on 
 each side of the altar. 
 
 At that time there was in Notre Dame a superb 
 roodloft, of Gothic construction, and most pictur- 
 esque. It was from this that Madame Bonaparte and 
 her suite witnessed the ceremony. There were about 
 eighty of these ladies ; more than two-thirds of them 
 were under twenty, many were not over sixteen; A 
 great number were very pretty. The Duchess of 
 Abrantes recalls this solenni day with great satisfac- 
 tion in her Memoirs, and describes it as one would 
 do it nowadays. " I still remember," she says, "Ma- 
 dame Murat's dress, with her pink satin hat, sur- 
 mounted by a tuft of feathers of the same color, and 
 how fresh, I'osy, and spring-like her face appeared 
 beneath it. She wore a dress of India muslin, with 
 wonderful openwork embroidery, and lined with pink 
 satin matching her hat. Over her shoulders was a 
 mantilla of Brussels lace, with which her dress was 
 trimmed. No mundane festival was more magnifi- 
 cent than this religious one ; and while the thoughts 
 of the pious turned to their Creator, it Avas in His 
 creatures that the free-thinking generals most inter- 
 ested themselves, and many of them, standing behind 
 the First Consul, and so in no dread of his eyes, 
 acted unbecomingly. 
 
172 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 "Many young women," the Duchess goes on, 
 "took their degrees in beaut}^ on that da}^ There 
 were many who were known to be pretty and charm- 
 ing, but there was also a large number who could 
 scarcely be distinguished at the vast entertainments 
 of Quintidi [the fifth day of the decade], while at 
 Notre Dame, with the sun blazing through the col- 
 ored glass, these young faces shone with marvellous 
 beauty ; nothing was lost. The First Consul noticed 
 it and spoke about it that same evening." The rood- 
 loft of Notre Dame, April 18, 1802, is a subject that 
 may "be recommended to an historical jiainter. 
 
 The ceremony was really magnificent, as became 
 a nation which is both religious and warlike. The 
 clatter of arms, the sound of the organ, the salvos of^ 
 artillery, which from daybreak had rattled every 
 window, the chants which rose beneath the vaulted 
 roof of the old cathedral, the smell of powder min- 
 gling with that of the incense, the gilded uniforms by 
 the side of the rich chasubles of the priests, — all this 
 pomp delighted the populace of Paris, which is always 
 eager for great shows. It was observed that luxury 
 and elegance had made great strides since General 
 Bonaparte had made his solemn entrance into the 
 Tuileries. Then there had been in the procession 
 almost nothing but cabs with their numbers hidden 
 by bits of paper, and now there were handsome pri- 
 vate carriages, as fine as those of the old regime, 
 following the First Consul's coach. The servants of 
 the principal officials were for the first time in livery ; 
 
THE TE BEUM FOE THE CONCORDAT. 173 
 
 and the crowd, instead of denouncing this return to 
 monarchical ways, took a childish delight in it. That 
 evening the members of the Diplomatic Body dined at 
 M. de Talleyrand's, the Minister of Foreign Aifairs ; 
 there was an illumination and a concert in the Tuil- 
 eries garden, and in the palace Cardinal Caprara, 
 the Archbishop of Paris, and the highest ecclesiastics 
 dined at the table of the First Consul, Avho had a 
 long and friendly talk with the First Consul, con- 
 gratulating himself on the great success of the day. 
 
 There was only one flaw, and that was the attitude 
 of a great many of the officers. Paris was- full of 
 them ; they found the calm of peace unendurable ; 
 and since they were still faithful to the principles of 
 the Revolution, they were indignant with the reac- 
 tion which was led by Bonaparte. This was the 
 feeling of especially the old officers of the Army of 
 the Rhine, who had always been jealous of the Army 
 of Italy, and who had gathered around the discon- 
 tented generals, like Moreau. The venerable General 
 de Segur has left in his Memoirs traces of the im- 
 pression made upon him and many of his comrades by 
 the events of April 18, 1802. "I heard the clamor, 
 but without sufficiently disapproving its malignity ; at 
 Notre Dame I saw their indignation on the occasion 
 of the Te Deum for the Concordat. On that day I 
 did not sufficiently condemn Dalmas's retort to Bona- 
 parte : ' Yes, it was indeed noble mummery ! The 
 only pity is that there weren't present about a thou- 
 sand of the men who got killed in overthrowing what 
 
174 THE WIFE OF THE FIUST CONSUL. 
 
 you are re-establishing.' The brutal impertinence 
 which was uttered by many other generals at the 
 Tuileries, and even within Napoleon's hearing, dis- 
 pleased me without doubt, but less than it should 
 have done. I acknowledge that in the cathedral my 
 attitude was not the most reverent, and I remember 
 that as the procession was passing the Palais Royal 
 on its way home, near a group of officers with whom 
 I was standing, our disdainful bearing in response 
 to the repeated salutes of the First Consul could not 
 have satisfied him." 
 
 Bonaparte was not made uneasy by these signs of 
 opposition, for he had determined to crush any show 
 of resistance. Congratulatory addresses on the Con- 
 cordat reached him from every quarter. " You will 
 see," he told Bourrienne, " how much I shall get out 
 of the priests." The Royalists lost their only claim 
 to popularity, and the hierarchy of the Church was for- 
 mally placed in the hands of the authorities. There 
 appeared at this time in the windows of every book- 
 shop an engraving representing the triumph of re- 
 ligion in France over the atheism of the Revolution ; 
 the cross was upheld by Bonaparte's sword, and below 
 was this inscription : "• The 28th Germinal, year X. 
 of the French Republic (April 18, 1802), Easter 
 Sunday, by the triumphant arm of Napoleon Bona- 
 parte, First Consul of France, religion arises from 
 the abyss into which impious atheists had hurled 
 it; Cardinal Caprara, legate, with plenipotentiary 
 powers from the Pope, to the French government, 
 
THE TE BEUM FOR THE CONCORDAT. 175 
 
 celebrated mass in the cathedral church of Notre 
 Dame, in presence of the three Consuls and all the 
 regular authorities." At the same time a sonnet was 
 circulated, which ended thus : — 
 
 He restores to France a solemn harmony, 
 Makes peace with all the world besides, 
 Placing it in triumph at the feet of the Eternal. 
 
 The followers of Voltaire had retorted by secretly 
 circulating a caricature of the First Consul, repre- 
 senting him as drowning in a basin of holy water, 
 with bishops pushing him back into the water with 
 their crosiers. In spite of these isolated sarcasms, 
 the religious reaction was complete ; the offices were 
 empty on Sunday ; the Archbishop of Paris celebrated 
 mass at the Tuileries ; the Bishop of Versailles, in 
 the presence of the authorities, solemnly consecrated 
 the chapel of the School of Saint Cyr ; and advantage 
 was taken of the moment to inaugurate a monument, 
 already constructed, to Madame de Maintenon, with 
 this pious inscription : — 
 
 She established Saint Cyr, to the edification of France ; 
 Her tomb w^as destroyed, her corpse insulted. 
 Youth laments this, and gratitude 
 Raises a new tomb to her avenged shade. 
 
 The clergy harmonized with the government ; and 
 the First Consul presented to a number of bishops 
 an episcopal ring, in token of his satisfaction with 
 the return of peace. 
 
 Chateaubriand's "Genius of Christianity" appeared 
 
176 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 at the moment when the Concordat was announced, 
 and, as M. de Yillemain has said, " No book has ever 
 appeared at a happier moment, or was ever helped 
 by more varied influences, by the political situation, 
 by blind faith, by interest, or by more conflicting pas- 
 sions." Later, in his edition of 1828, he said, " The 
 ' Genius of Christianity ' was full of the spirit of the 
 old monarchy; the legitimate heir lay, so to speak, 
 beneath the sanctuary, the veil of which I lifted, and 
 the crown of Saint Louis hung above the altar of the 
 God of Saint Louis." This phrase did very well for 
 the reign of Charles X., but certainly Chateaubriand 
 would not have written it in 1802 or 1803. Then, 
 he dedicated his book to Bonaparte, and to Bonaparte 
 he addressed this enthusiastic eulogy : " In your des- 
 tiny we see the hand of Providence, who had chosen 
 you from afar for the accomplishment of his mighty 
 plans. Whole peoples are regarding you; France, 
 augmented by your victories, has placed its hope in 
 you, since it is on religion that you establish the 
 State and your own prosperity. Continue to hold 
 out a helping hand to thirty million of Christians 
 who pray for you at the foot of the altars you have 
 restored to them." Bonaparte said that he had never 
 been better praised. 
 
 So the First Consul appeared to France and to 
 Europe in the light of the protector and restorer of 
 religion ; but, strangely enough, at the moment when 
 he was so much occupied with matters of the Church, 
 talked theology like a doctor, and was trying to give 
 
THE TE DEUM FOR THE CONCORDAT. 177 
 
 peace to men's consciences, he made no attempt to 
 bring his own situation into conformity with the rules 
 of the Church, and notwithstanding his wife's earnest 
 solicitations, his marriage continued to be merely a 
 civil one. While Josephine appeared with the maj- 
 esty of a queen in the roodloft of Notre Dame, she 
 was, from a religious point of view, not his legal 
 wife. Does not this state of affairs show the con- 
 fusion which the Revolution had wrought, and the 
 very strange anomalies resulting from it ? jMadame 
 Bonaparte was not very pious, but she was not with- 
 out religious feeling ; and she suffered as a Christian 
 and a woman. The ceremony at Notre Dame, recall- 
 ing, as it did, the memories of her happy infancy, 
 filled her with apprehensions regarding her present 
 situation, which seemed so enviable. 
 
r 
 
 XIV. 
 
 JOSEPHESTE AND THE EOYALISTS. 
 
 AT the present time the Faubourg Saint Ger- 
 main has lost its ancient character. Its famous 
 mansions have disappeared; boulevards run through 
 it in every direction. The great families who used 
 to control it have made numerous alliances with the 
 middle classes. They have broken away from their 
 traditions by giving allegiance to Napoleon I., to 
 Louis Philippe, and to Napoleon III., and with their 
 prejudices they have lost the feeling of caste which 
 was their strength and their pride. 
 
 At the beginning of the century, the French nobil- 
 ity presented a very different aspect. It remained 
 standing on a heap of ruins. But a few years sepa- 
 rated it from the period of its greatest prosperity and 
 splendor, and it had shown abundant energy amid 
 the catastrophes and terrible trials it had passed 
 through. As General de Segur has put it, what 
 other body, attacked in the same way, beaten and 
 scattered, could have shown itself so compact, so 
 persistent in its sentiments, and have displayed an 
 equally firm resistance to such misfortunes ? 
 178 
 
JOSEPHINE AND THE EOYALISTS. 179 
 
 To return home under false names or with false 
 passports, to be obliged to solicit repeatedly the 
 removal of their names from the list of emigres, to 
 find their houses and lands in the possession of 
 strangers, to pass every day the spot where their 
 relatives and friends had been put to death, was 
 surely a sad fate. But the nobles, if they were un- 
 happy, did not think themselves humiliated. Their 
 sufferings raised them in their own estimation. Their 
 magnificent mansions in the Faubourg Saint Germain 
 no longer belonged to them, but they were uninjured, 
 and every one pointed them out as the property of 
 their old owners. Always proud and convinced of 
 their rights, they regarded the Revolution as a pass- 
 ing evil, and the purchasers of the national property 
 as thieves. They said that their emigration, so far 
 from being a crime, had been their only safety ; and 
 they added that if those who left had been robbed, 
 those who stayed at home had been put to death. 
 As to the words liberty, the rights of the people, 
 they only sneered at tliem, and all the more because 
 the government treated as fanatics the men who 
 still fanned the passions of the Revolution. 
 
 Unable to use their swords or their rapiers, the 
 Emigres returned to France, with sarcasm on their 
 lips, and avenged the work of the executioner's axe 
 by their dexterity with a light but deadly weapon, — 
 ridicule. Ruined as they were, they yet preserved 
 in their distress the privilege of setting the fashion. 
 They ironically compared the rude ways of the new 
 
180 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 men with the graceful and delicate manners of the 
 old regime, and pursued with their jests the Turcarets 
 of the Revolution, the upstarts, the men who, to 
 employ Talleyrand's expression, did not know how to 
 walk on a waxed floor, j The First Consul and the 
 army itself were not spared in their sarcasm. In their 
 eyes, as General de S^gur said, the immortal exploits 
 of the Republican soldiers were nothing but triumphs 
 of brute force, a sort of savage, false, illegitimate 
 glory, a usurpation of old and imprescriptible rights. 
 " Such," he adds, " were the perfectly natural feelings 
 of the survivors of this cruelly decimated class. Their 
 influence was diminished, but they preserved the feel- 
 ing of caste which is the most persistent and the 
 most powerful of all forms of party-spirit ; for family 
 and social relations, hereditary habits of rule, and a 
 sensitive regard for points of honor, pride, and preten- 
 sions to exclusiveness, become a second nature, com- 
 posed of all the interests and all the passions which 
 most surely control men's hearts." 
 
 In spite of their haughtiness, the emigres were 
 obliged to draw nearer and nearer to Bonaparte ; but 
 in 1802 they contented themselves with paying their 
 court to Josephine, in obtaining through her the 
 restitution of all or part of their property, or per- 
 mission for a relation or friend to return to France. 
 Women like to protect, and to confer rather than 
 receive a kindness. It was with keen pleasure that 
 Josephine found herself sought after by people of the 
 old regime, who still refused to bow before her bus- 
 
JOSEPHINE AND THE BOYALISTS. 181 
 
 band, and who used to come to call on her in the 
 morning, in her apartment on the ground floor of the 
 Tuileries, at the same time boasting that they had 
 never set foot on the grand staircase of the palace. 
 These delicate distinctions are amusing, and it was 
 clear to every intelligent observer that the nobility 
 was anxious to move slowly, but that soon it would 
 be very glad to appear in the rooms of the powerful 
 dispenser of places and wealth. Bonaparte might 
 have taken umbrage at the attitude of these people, 
 who undertook to draw a line between his wife and 
 him ; but he knew men, and he foresaw all the flat- 
 tery and obsequiousness of the Empire after the 
 Concordat. Already men of the most diverse parties 
 met within the walls of the Tuileries, on the ground 
 floor, — the members of the old regime, the great lords 
 and fine ladies of the court of Versailles ; on the first 
 floor, the generals, the ministers, the members of the 
 Convention, the men of the Revolution. The time 
 was drawing near when they all were to meet in the 
 same vestibule and ascend the same staircase. Bona- 
 parte was convinced that soon he should be able to 
 mingle in his palace marquises with regicides, and 
 establish a rivalry of interested homage and flattery 
 to be rewarded by gold and honors. Hence he per- 
 mitted Josephine to pass her time with Royalists, 
 and congratulated himself on this aid to his plans of 
 fusion and unity. 
 
 In fact, there were two men in Bonaparte, — the 
 aristocrat and the democrat. By birth, education, and 
 
182 THE WIFE OF TUE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 liis start in tlie army, he was an aristocrat; later, he 
 became a democrat, more from policy than from con- 
 viction ; and if not really, at least apparently, he had 
 identified himself with the most ardent Republican 
 enthusiasm. This double nature betrayed itself in 
 his words and his deeds. Jacobins and Royalists were 
 successively the object of his anger. The Legiti- 
 mists filled him alternately with symj^athy and with 
 contempt. In the presence of great nobles he remem- 
 bered his coatrof-arms ; when with his soldiers, he 
 used to say, '* My nobility dates from Areola and Ma- 
 rengo." In his heart he dreaded the Bourbons, and 
 had an instinctive fear of their return. The former 
 royal pupil, the officer of the armies of his very 
 Christian Majesty, recalled the white flag amid the 
 triumphs of the tricolor. Louis XVIII. , forgotten, 
 poor, abandoned, as he was, disturbed him; and the 
 omnipotent First Consul would have gladly treated 
 with this Pretender, whose only weapon was a princi- 
 ple. He was proud of his relations with the Bourbon 
 monarchies of Spain and Naples, and he was flattered 
 by the thought that he had set a descendant of Henry 
 IV. and Louis XIV. on the throne of Etruria. Just 
 as a tribune often exults in the conquest of a great 
 lady, so this Republican general gloried in his victory 
 over the French nobility. 
 
 Yet there were in the Fauboui'g Saint Germain 
 many causes of uneasiness. If he was less in awe of 
 the men because he could readily punish them, he 
 feared the women, for they could more easily defy his 
 
JOSEPHINE AND THE ROYALISTS. 183 
 
 power. An outbreak would not have disturbed him, 
 but the opposition of a drawing-room was a more 
 serious matter. He stood more in fear of a woman 
 of character like Madame de Stael than of a legion 
 of demagogues. A thousand swords were less alarm- 
 ing than one fan. Already he had a close watch 
 kept on thejfew newly opened drawing-rooms jof the 
 Faubourg Saint Germain, notably on that of the 
 Duchess of Luynes, whose husband, a few years later, 
 gladly received his nomination as senator. 
 
 As for Josephine, she was never more at her ease 
 than in the society of the ^migr^s, for with them she 
 felt a harmony of ideas and hopes. She liked their 
 manners, their language, even their prejudices. She 
 was flattered by their respect and devotion, and felt 
 herself rehabilitated in the eyes of good society by 
 her sympathy with the adherents of the white flag. 
 Thiers has said that she ought rather to have crushed 
 them beneath the weight of her pride ; but how could 
 she have done this when she had shared their feel- 
 ings, their grief, their sufferings, and but for the 9th 
 Thermidor would have died on the guillotine ? 
 
 The Legitimist opinions of the former Viscountess 
 of Beauharnais were at once a matter of feeling and 
 of calculation. By her childish and youthful memo- 
 ries, by the horror with which the crimes of the 
 Revolution filled her, by the terror she had felt of 
 perishing on the guillotine like her first husband, 
 Josephine was a Royalist. In her mind all author- 
 ity other than that of a king was, if not precisely 
 
184 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 usurpation, at any rate a perilous risk. A monk 
 seemed to her greater than a CromAvell, or even 
 than a Caesar. She would have been delighted to be 
 the "vvife of a Constable and to become a Duchess by 
 the will of Louis XVIII. A stool would have pleased 
 her better than a throne, because she thought a stool 
 firm, and a throne frail. As the wife of a Constable, 
 and a Duchess, she felt that she would be in no 
 danger of divorce, and she would not be told that 
 since she gave her husband no heir, she was imperil- 
 ling the future security of France. She would not 
 be tormented by all sorts of dynastic ideas and by 
 family rivalries which her adversaries encouraged in 
 order to ruin her. She would not fear attempts like 
 the plot of the infernal machine ; the priests would 
 give their blessing to her marriage, and before God 
 and man she would enjoy in peace her husband's 
 glory and a position safe from all perils of war and 
 revolution. Hence she yearned to see her husband 
 restore legitimacy as he had already restored religion. 
 Bourrienne said in his Memoirs : " Under the con- 
 sular government, the Royalist committee was not in 
 a state of active conspiracy ; it confined itself rather, 
 if I may say so, to persuasion. All its efforts tended 
 to the circumvention of the persons who were sup- 
 posed to have the most influence with the First 
 Consul, in the hope of inducing him to desire the 
 return of the Bourbons. It was especially against 
 Madame Bonaparte that the batteries were directed." 
 The Emigres knew Josephine's character, and they 
 
JOSEPHINE AND THE BOYALISTS. 185 
 
 appealed in turn to her vanity, her feelings, her in- 
 terest, and her imagination. They told her that by 
 persuading her husband to bring back the King she 
 would do a great deed, that she would be the protect- 
 ress, the guardian angel, of the heir of Saint Louis ; 
 that the throne and the altar would owe her every- 
 thing, that she would place on her head an undying 
 aureole, and that Bonaparte would be the greatest of 
 men. Lamartine expressed the same thought in his 
 celebrated ode. 
 
 Josephine lent a read}' ear to these persuasions, 
 but Bonaparte laughed in his sleeve at those simple 
 beings who fancied that a man of his character would 
 be contented with the second place. He had, more- 
 over, arranged a plan for controlling the nobility. 
 As Madame de Stael has said, he took good care not 
 to put an end to the uncertainty of the Emigres by 
 laws defining their privileges. " He restored one 
 man to his property ; from another he took them for 
 all time. A decision in the restoration of estates 
 reduced one to poverty, while to another it gave 
 even more than he had owned. Sometimes he gave 
 the property of a father to a son, that of an elder 
 brother to a younger brother, in accordance with his 
 confidence in their devotion to his person. He made 
 his favor of importance, not for any frivolous pleasure 
 it might give, but for the hope of seeing one's country 
 again, and of recovering at least a part of one's pos- 
 sessions. The First Consul had reserved to himself 
 the power of disposing on any pretext of the fate 
 of all and each." 
 
186 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 The Senatiis-consultum of April 26, 1802, had, it is 
 true, proclaimed an amnesty to the ^migr^s ; but an 
 exception was made against those who had accepted 
 positions in hostile armies, or who had remained in 
 the service of French princes, as well as against the 
 ecclesiastics who had refused to tender the resigna- 
 tion required by the Pope. The same act had guar- 
 anteed the national property to its purchasers. But 
 a question had arisen in respect to the property of 
 ^migr^s, which had not been sold after confiscation, 
 and remained intact in the hands of the government. 
 To this class belonged a quantity of woods and forests 
 of enormous value. It was decided that these unsold 
 properties, instead of returning to their owners, should 
 vest in the State. It was by restoring or keeping 
 them, as he might choose, that Napoleon did what he 
 pleased with the French nobility. The nobles who 
 submitted to his government were enriched ; the others 
 remained poor. This result accorded with his general 
 policy. He protected the Faubourg Saint Germain, 
 a school for his chamberlains. He was aristocratic 
 and religious, but in order to control the aristocracy 
 and the clergy. He was a monarchist, but on one 
 condition — that he should be the monarch. 
 
XV. 
 
 THE END OF THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 
 
 IT is not Bonaparte who courted Fortune ; it is 
 rather she that made all the advances and yielded 
 to him. He sneered at the hot demagogues who so 
 speedily abjured their political principles, and it was 
 with malicious satisfaction that he said to Bourrienne, 
 " All my virtuous Republicans have only to put a little 
 gold lace on their coats, and then tliey are my men." 
 Everything was ready for the rule of the new Caesar. 
 He made a pretence of refusing the diadem, and said 
 at a reception, to a deputation of the Tribunate, May 
 7, 1802, " I desire no other reward than the love of 
 my fellow-citizens. . . . Death itself Avill have no 
 terrors for me, if my last looks may see the happi- 
 ness of the Republic as secure as its glory." Would 
 not one who heard him imagine that he was making 
 a sacrifice in assuming the supreme power? The 
 Republic, which was so sincerely loved by the army, 
 which had called forth such generous devotion, so 
 many heroic efforts, on the field of battle, now ex- 
 isted only in name. Bonaparte was a real monarch, 
 absolute and acknowledged. With more justice than 
 
 187 
 
188 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 Louis XIV. — for since the day of that Kmg cen- 
 tralization, the great force of absolute power, had 
 made enormous advances — he could say, " The State, 
 it is I." 
 
 The senators, whose servility was to weary Mm as 
 that of the senators of ancient Rome wearied Tibe- 
 rius, were eager to know his secret heart. What did 
 he want? A prolongation of his powers? Consu- 
 late for life? A king's crown? An emperor's dia- 
 dem ? He had but to say the word, and it would be 
 the law of France. Since he affected a modesty 
 which was far from his thoughts, the Senate decided 
 to win his gratitude by prolonging his powers for ten 
 years, and he pretended to accept this offer most 
 thankfully. In reality, however, he could not under- 
 stand their want of perspicacity, unimportant as it 
 was ; for their decision was made May 8, and two 
 days later the Council of State, paying it no atten- 
 tion, declared that the French people should be con- 
 sulted on this question : " Shall the First Consul be 
 made Consul for life ? " Any offence that the Senate 
 might take with such a procedure was to be allayed 
 by sending to that body the results of the voting. 
 It should have the pleasure of announcing the issue 
 of the plebiscite — what more could it ask ? 
 
 Bourrienne tells us that when all was completed 
 for the Consulate for life, except the voting, which 
 could have but one result, Bonaparte went to Mal- 
 maison the middle of May to spend a few days. 
 " That was liis habit," adds his secretary, " after any 
 
END OF THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 189 
 
 event outside of the usual course of government. 
 There he used to reflect on what he had done ; and 
 since, in some mysterious way, his boklest acts were 
 always crowned by success, he acquired more confi- 
 dence in his good fortune and became more enthusias- 
 tic in the sort of worship he offered to audacity. So 
 long as he was moved by passion, he saw only the end; 
 but that once reached, he examined all the obstacles 
 he might have met." Now when he was about to 
 obtain the Consulate for life, which he had so ar- 
 dently desired because it seemed to him the only 
 step yet to be taken before ascending the throne, he 
 strolled through the paths of Malmaison, thinking of 
 the incredible results which justified his dreams. In 
 this moment of pride and omnipotence, we must be- 
 lieve that his mind was haunted by the vision of the 
 legitimate monarchy. Louis XVIII., without a treas- 
 ury, without an army, without resources of any sort, 
 the importunate and despised guest of the crowned 
 heads of Europe, made him uneasy. He would have 
 paid enormous sums, have made the greatest sacri- 
 fices, to get from this Pretender the renunciation 
 of rights which seemed to him formidable, as if he 
 already had a presentiment of 1814 and 1815. The 
 head of the house of Bourbon had written to him, 
 September 7, 1800 : " We can assure the peace of 
 France. I say tve, because I need Bonaparte for 
 that; and he, too, cannot do it without me." And 
 to this Bonaparte had replied : " Sir, I have received 
 your letter. I thank you for the kind things you 
 
190 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 say. You ought not to wish to return to France ; 
 you woukl have to step on half a milhon corpses. 
 Sacrifice your own interest to the peace of France ; 
 iiistory will give you credit for it. I am not insen- 
 sible to the misfortunes of your family. I will gladly 
 contribute to the easing and soothing of your retire- 
 ment." But in spite of adcbessing the descendant 
 of Louis XIV. simply as sir, and of his protecting 
 tone to the heir of so long a line of kings, he was at 
 heart annoyed by the existence of this exile. This 
 is clearly shown in the following conversation be- 
 tween the First Consul and his secretary in the park 
 of Malmaison in May, 1802 : " ' Bourrienne, do you 
 think that the Pretender to the crown of France 
 would give up his rights, if I were to offer him a 
 large indemnity, or even a province in Italy ? ' 'I 
 don't think he would. In fact, it is extremely un- 
 likely that the Bourbons Avill come back into France 
 so long as you are the head of the government, but 
 they must regard their return as probable.' ' Why 
 so ? ' ' The reason is simple. Don't you see every 
 day how your prefects conceal the truth from you, 
 and flatter your wishes, in order to get influence over 
 you ? and are you not angry when at last you get at 
 the truth?' 'Well?' 'Well, it must be just the 
 same with the agents of Louis XVIII. in France. It 
 is in the order of things and in human nature, that 
 they encourage the Bourbons with the hope of a re- 
 turn, if for nothing else, to show their skill and use- 
 fulness.' ' That is true. But don't be uneasy ; I am 
 
END OF THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 191 
 
 not afraid of them. Yet there may be something to 
 do al)oiit it. I sliall think of it ; we shall see.' " 
 
 Meanwhile Josephine Avas in serious distress. She 
 remembered not without alarm the prediction of a 
 sorceress : " You will sit on a throne, but not for 
 long," and the height she reached made her uneasy. 
 In May, 1802, she said to a Councillor of State : " I 
 do not approve all the plans that are projected, and 
 I said as much to Bonaparte, who listened attentively 
 to me, but his flatterers soon made him change his 
 mind. The generals say that they did not fight 
 against the Bourbons to set up a family of Bona- 
 partes in their place. I do not regret that I have 
 given no children to my husband, for I should trem- 
 ble for their fate. I shall remain devoted to Bona- 
 parte's destiny, however perilous it may be, so long 
 as he has the regard and friendship for me which he 
 has always shown. But the day he changes, I shall 
 withdraw from the Tuileries." As Thibaudeau has 
 said in his Memoirs: "In France and in Europe every- 
 thing conspired for the sacrifice of the rights of the 
 people in favor of the First Consul. At court one 
 woman still resisted the mighty current; she alone 
 was not blinded by all the illusions of greatness. 
 She was incessantly pursued by the wildest alarm 
 and the gloomiest forebodings. Indeed, Madame 
 Bonaparte perhaps foresaw her fall in her husband's 
 elevation to the throne ; but a delicate instinct, which 
 in women often takes the place of perspicacity, pre- 
 vented her seeing without horror a man reigning 
 
192 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 over the ruins of the Republic who owed to the 
 Republic his greatness and glory." 
 
 Amid the obsequious senators who were busily 
 flattering the new Coesar, Josephine jDerhaj^s feared 
 the dagger of a Brutus. Saint Cloud, to which she 
 was soon to move, was not an agreeable place for her, 
 and she regretted leaving that charming spot for new 
 palaces and castles full of gloomy memories. Had 
 not Saint Cloud brought unhappiness to Henry HI., 
 to Henrietta of England, to Marie Antoinette ? And 
 why should she assume a crown ? Josephine said to 
 Roederer, " Bonaparte's true enemies are those who 
 fill him with ideas of a dynasty, of hereditary succes- 
 sion, of divorce, and a second marriage." She was as 
 modest and disinterested as Bonaparte's sisters were 
 haughty and ambitious ; in her heart there was no 
 place for anger or pride. The part she played was 
 not that of a Lady Macbeth ; for a year and a half 
 she had been entreating her husband not to let him- 
 self be temj)ted by the crown. At first he had 
 reassured her; and once when towards the end of 
 1800 she sat in his lap, and said tenderly, " I beg of 
 you, Bonaparte, don't be King," he answered, laugh- 
 ing, " You are absurd, Josephine. It's all those old 
 dowagers of the Faubourg Saint Germain, and espe- 
 cially Madame de La Rochefoucauld, who got up those 
 stories ; you tire me, leave me alone." But slie had 
 not influence enough to stem the. course of destiny, to 
 stop the chariot of the triumphant hero. Bonaparte 
 thought that the duty of a woman was to spin 
 
END OF THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 193 
 
 and kiiit, and he sent her to her domestic cares, 
 while he went on in his proud and victorious career. 
 Fouche, who was stoutly opposed to these monarchical 
 plans, said to her: "Madame, keep quiet. You will 
 only annoy your husband, to no purpose. He will be 
 Life Consul, King, or Emperor, — whatever any one 
 can be. Your timidity wearies him ; your advice 
 wounds him. Let us stay in our place, let things 
 happen which neither you nor I can prevent." 
 
 How slight is human wisdom, and how right 
 Persius was when he exclaimed, " Oh, the cares of 
 men, and the emptiness of things ! " ( curas homi- 
 num, quantmn est in rebus inane .') 
 
 Bonaparte's fame exceeded that of the greatest. 
 France was at his feet; he called forth from the 
 whole world a long cry of surprise and admiration, 
 and yet he did not suspect with what truth he 
 answered in a somewhat melancholy train the con- 
 gratulations of the senators. " Fortune has smiled 
 upon the Republic, but Fortune is fickle, and how 
 many men on whom she has heaped favors have 
 lived a few years too long ! The interest of my glory 
 and that of my happiness would seem to have 
 marked the limit of my public life." These words 
 are very touching. Let us imagine Bonaparte dying 
 as he uttered them. What a flawless hero ! what 
 incomparable glory ! No murder of the Duke of 
 Enghien ! No war with Spain ! No retreat from 
 Russia ! No continental blockade, resulting in the 
 English control ; no persecution of the Pope, ending 
 
194 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 in the triumphal entry of the Sovereign Pontiff into 
 the eternal city ; no seas of blood turned out, not for 
 the aggrandizement of France, but, alas I for its 
 diminution ; no invectives, no imprecations, no flight 
 in the disguise of an Austrian officer ; no foreigners 
 encamped in Bois de Boulogne or on the hill of 
 Montmartre ; no Waterloo, no Saint Helena ; but 
 France all-powerful, invincible, defying the jealousy 
 of the kings of Europe, and amid a glorious peace in 
 enjoyment of its natural frontiers, — that is what 
 would have happened if this man, who w^as looked 
 upon as indispensable, had died at the dawn of his 
 power and glory. I well remember the closing lines 
 of the " King QEdipus " of Sophocles : — 
 
 From hence the lesson learn ye, 
 To reckon no man happy till ye witness 
 The closing day ; until lie pass the border 
 Which severs life from death, unscathed by sorrow. 
 
 But in 1802 who could predict 1812, 1814, 1815, 
 1821 ? Bonaparte was illustrious ; his retinue more 
 magnificent than that of the former kings. His col- 
 leagues, the other Consuls, did not dare sit in the 
 same carriage. When he went to preside at the 
 Senate, he was alone, majestic in a state carriage 
 drawn by eight horses. He breathed an odor of 
 incense which intoxicated him. Joyous and tri- 
 umphant, he declared that " the liberty, the equality, 
 the prosperity of France, shall be secure from the 
 caprices of fate and the uncertainty of the future; 
 
END OF THE TEMPORARY CONSULATE. 195 
 
 that the best of people shall be the happiest, as it 
 deserves ; and that he, satisfied with being called by- 
 order of those from whom all power emanates, to 
 restore justice, order, and equality, will see the ap- 
 proach of his last hour without regret and without 
 fear of future generations." Henceforth he is called 
 by that magic name, Napoleon ! He chooses for his 
 festival the festival of the Virgin Mary, as if he 
 wished his glory to gain some of the splendor of the 
 Queen of Heaven, and to be a sort of Assumption. 
 August 15, 1802, he let his star shine above the 
 towers of Notre Dame, forty feet above the two plat- 
 forms. In the middle of this symbolic illumination 
 shone the sign of the Zodiac, under which is the 
 birthday of this predestined man, and all night his 
 bright star shone over the buildings of the great 
 capital. 
 
PART IL 
 
 THE CONSULATE FOR LIFE. 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 
 
 RUINS seen by moonlight or in the dim light of 
 a dark, rainy winter day, are perhaps less sad 
 than when seen embowered in green at the dawn of 
 a bright day. Then it seems as if nature, in its 
 serene calm, was smiling at men's vain plans, and 
 protesting in its immortal majesty against their follies 
 and their miseries. This is what I felt August 15 
 last. The weather was superb, the sun magnificent, 
 the sky without a cloud. I had decided to walk out 
 to Saint Cloud, and I remembered that it was there 
 where long ago the 15th of August was the ruler's 
 holiday. At that time the courtyard of the palace 
 was full of fine carriages adorned with coats-of-arms ; 
 powdered lackeys were running about ; valuable horses 
 were pawing the ground ; and within the palace there 
 was a continual coming and going of officers, diplo- 
 matists, chamberlains, equerries, and officials, all 
 brilliant in uniforms and decorations. In the even- 
 ing the palace and the park were illuminated ; at a 
 distance lay the great capital, like a giant sunk in 
 floods of light. There was no lack of protestations 
 
 199 
 
200 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 of devotion, of flattering speeches so ingenious that 
 they seemed sincere ; for there are many who know 
 how to give to the wiles of ambition and interest the 
 appearance of a natural expression. 
 
 All is changed within a very few years. Who 
 thinks now of the Emperor's festival ? Two or three 
 hired carriages brought to the palace gate a handful 
 of foreigners, of tourists, who, guidebook in hand, and 
 a field-glass over their shoulder, came to look, with 
 perhaps more scorn than pity, at the ruins which bear 
 witness of our misfortunes and our discords. At a 
 distance, there is a certain illusion about the palace; 
 a nearsighted man would never suspect the ravages 
 of fire and petroleum. But what a sight greets one 
 on getting near the red and damaged walls ! One of 
 the guards uttered some sad reflections on this man- 
 sion which he had seen so magnificent and which is 
 to-day so gloomy and so devastated: it is the differ- 
 ence between a Avoman brilliant with youth, beauty, 
 glory, and the skeleton of the same woman. One 
 would say that buildings really have a soul, and that 
 wlien they are a mere stone corpse, their soul yet sur- 
 vives. Ruins call forth the same thoughts as a 
 tomb. 
 
 The park is as fine as ever ; the old trees are as 
 majestic, the flower-beds as lovely, the turf as green, 
 the shrubs as delicious, the waterfalls as musical, as 
 in other days. The birds still sing ; but one misses 
 the music of the bands, the bugle-calls, and the roll- 
 ing of the drums. 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 201 
 
 I sat down on a stone bench and thought of all 
 that had taken place in the palace in ruins before me. 
 In the full l:»laze of noonday the phantoms of the past 
 appeared as if it were black midnight. I thought of 
 Henrietta of England, who was so rich in graces, 
 and died, " like the flower of the field," in the night 
 of June 30, 1670, " a disastrous, a terrible night, when 
 suddenly there came, with a burst like a clap of thun- 
 der, this astounding news : Madame is dying, M-adame 
 is dead." Seven years later there is a great festival 
 at Saint Cloud, October 10, 1677; the Great King is 
 received by his brother with extraordinary solemnity, 
 at the inauguration of the Gallery of Apollo, deco- 
 rated by Mignard. 
 
 Towards the end of the next century Marie 
 Antoinette visited Saint Cloud in the summer of 
 1790. It was a moment of rest before the last march 
 to the grave, and then this charming woman bade 
 farewell to the flowers, the country, the natural scen- 
 ery which she loved so much. I recalled the sole 
 interview between the Martyr Queen and Mirabeau ; 
 it took place July 3, 1790, in the park, at the circle 
 in the top of the Queen's private garden. It was a 
 memorable meeting between a man of such marvel- 
 lous genius and eloquence and a woman of her station 
 and beauty. I fancied that I heard him, as he left 
 her presence, saying in an outburst of enthusiasm, 
 " Madame, the monarchy is saved." 
 
 Then there was Saint Cloud on the 19th Brumaire, 
 year VIII. The Council of the Ancients was sitting 
 
202 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 in the Gallery of Apollo, and the Five Hundred in 
 the orange-house. I recalled Bonaparte saying to the 
 Ancients : " Remember that I am supported by For- 
 tune and the God of War." Then I saw him in the 
 orange-house, threatened by daggers, pursued with 
 imprecations. I saw the grenadiers invading the hall, 
 and I heard the roar of the drum drowning the voices 
 of the representatives of the people, as it cbowned 
 that of Louis XVI. Where now is the orange-house 
 where took place the scene which settled the fate of 
 France ? The guard told me that it was situated 
 where the flower-beds now are, on the right of the 
 palace. But it was destroyed a few years ago, and 
 not the least trace of it is left. 
 
 It was in the Gallery of Apollo that the First 
 Empire was proclaimed in 1804, and in the same 
 gallery the Second Empire was proclaimed forty- 
 eight years later. After Waterloo, Bliicher slept at 
 Saint Cloud, in Napoleon's bedroom. He lay there, 
 all dressed, amusing himself by dirtying with his 
 boots the bedclothes and curtains of his old conqueror. 
 It was in the red drawing-room that the surrender 
 of Paris was signed in 1815 ; and in the same room, 
 July 25, 1830, Charles X. and his unwise ministers 
 signed the fatal orders. July 27 the old King was 
 quietly playing whist in the drawing-room which 
 looks out on the main courtyard, and from which 
 Paris may be seen on the horizon. From one of the 
 windows a servant saw a distant fire. It was the 
 guardhouse of the Place de la Bourse that was burn- 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 203 
 
 ing. The servant called the attention of one of the 
 gentlemen in waiting to the smoke and flame. He 
 went up to the King ; but since Charles X., although 
 he had been told of the troubles that had broken out, 
 went on quietly with his game, the gentleman did 
 not dare to break the rules of etiquette by addressing 
 him. That same evening, M. de Semonville said to 
 the old King, " Sire, if your Majesty does not revoke 
 the orders, if there is no change of ministry, to-mor- 
 row perhaps there will be no king, or dauphin, or 
 Duke of Bordeaux." " I don't agree with you," 
 answered Charles X. " My brother, Louis XVL, 
 perished by Aveakness. At any rate, I am ready to 
 appear before my God." July 30 the legitimate 
 kingdom had ceased to exist. The Duke of Ragusa 
 arrived in consternation at Saint Cloud. " Sire," said 
 he, " the battle is lost. A ball intended for me killed 
 the horse of an officer at my side. I should prefer 
 death to the sad sight I have just witnessed." That 
 same evening the Duke of Angouleme, by advice 
 of the generals, who all declared that they could 
 not be responsible for the safety of the royal family, 
 had the King awakened from sound slumbers. The 
 brother of Louis XVI. got up, and sadly left Saint 
 Cloud with his unhappy family, to depart for his 
 last exile. 
 
 The palace knew brilliant days under the Second 
 Empire. There was a succession of royal guests and 
 of magnificent entertainments. The bed-chamber of 
 Marie Antoinette, of Josephine, of Marie Louise, of 
 
204 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 the Duchess of Angouleine, became the ministers' 
 council-hall. Louis Philippe's study becaijie the 
 chamber of the Empress Eugenie. The young 
 Prince Imperial had the rooms on the ground floor 
 which were formerly occupied by the King of Rome, 
 by the Count of Artois, the Duchess of Berry, and 
 by Madame Adelaide. From it the King of Rome 
 used to start in his gilded carriage, drawn by two 
 white sheep. Saint Cloud was tlie favorite resort of 
 Napoleon III. Tliither he returned July 16, 1859, 
 after the Italian campaign, and thence he departed 
 for the fatal war with Germany. It was from Saint 
 Cloud that, on the 9th of May, 1812, Napoleon I., 
 amid the great men of his court, like Darius among 
 his satraps, stai'ted in great pomp for a no less unfor- 
 tunate war — that with Russia. The departure of 
 Napoleon III., July 28, 1870, was much more modest. 
 His proclamations were stamped with melancholy, as 
 if he wished to warn the nation by calming its frenzy 
 rather than by adding to it. An ovation was prom- 
 ised him if he would go through Paris, but he refused. 
 Even before the conflict began he was overwhelmed 
 by a sort of prophetic depression. In 1859 he started 
 solemnly for the war, amid the excited transports of 
 the multitude, but then he had confidence in his star; 
 in 1870 this trust had vanished. He went, pursued 
 by presentiments whicli, however mournful they may 
 have been, were outdone by the reality. In going 
 by rail on the right bank from Paris to Versailles, 
 there is to be seen on the left, in the park of Saint 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 205 
 
 Cloud, a little rustic rotunda close to the line. There 
 it was that, July 28, 1870, at ten o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, the unfortunate Emperor and the Prince Imperial 
 got into the train which took them straight to Metz. 
 Would not one say that they were the victims of a 
 real fate ? 
 
 During the siege, the National Guards upon the 
 ramparts saAV on the horizon a large fire ; it was the 
 palace of Saint Cloud, ]jurning like a woodpile. Some 
 say it was ignited hy shells from Mont Yalerien, and 
 others maintain that it was drenched with petroleum 
 by the Germans and burned by them. This unfortu- 
 nate palace could not be saved by the proud motto of 
 the brother of Louis XIV., Alter post fulmina terror^ 
 or by the poetic reminiscences of Marie Antoinette, 
 or by the legendary greatness of the Empire. Thus 
 perished so much grandeur. It is written in letters 
 of fire, like those of Belshazzar's feast. The Gallery 
 of Apollo, all resplendent with gold, the mythologi- 
 cal decorations, the frescoes of Mignard, — all these 
 wonders perished in the fiery furnace. The sky was 
 as red as blood. The whole hill which overhangs the 
 left bank of the Seine, and is surmounted by the lofty 
 trees of the park, from the palace to the rising ground 
 of Sevres, is lit by the flames, and this fire is but the 
 forerunner of others still more lamentable, because 
 they were lit, not by German, but by French hands. 
 
 All these various visions passed before my eyes 
 like the scenes of a play, now bright, now gloomy, 
 and I felt myself distressed b}' this multitude. Now 
 
206 THE WIFE OF THE FIIiST CONSUL. 
 
 it may be Avorth Avliile to see what it is under the 
 Consulate. The Saint Cloud we have to study is 
 the Saint Cloud of 1802, of 1803, of 1804, in all its 
 majesty, the abode of power and glory. Bonaparte 
 had just been elected Consul for life by 3,568,885 
 votes out of 3,577,259. The Senate had presented 
 him with its expression of " the confidence, the ad- 
 miration, and the love of the French people." That 
 is the official lano-uage. A statue of Peace had been 
 erected, holding in one hand the laurel wreath of the 
 victor, and in the other the decree of the Senate, 
 bearing witness to posterity of the nation's gratitude. 
 Saint Cloud was the summer residence of the new 
 sovereign; for what other name can be given to a 
 ruler whose powers are for life, and who has the right 
 of appointing his successor to suit himself? The 
 former monarchs had no such power, for they had to 
 accept for heir the man born to the throne. Malmai- 
 son was a private castle ; Saint Cloud a royal one, in 
 which all the pomp of a monarchy could be displayed. 
 The staircase was in the middle of the castle as one 
 enters from the central court; it was adorned with 
 marble columns, and built by Micque, Marie Antoi- 
 nette's architect. Up one flight was the main hall 
 with its painted ceiling on which was History writing 
 the life of the brother of Louis XIV. A door to the 
 right led into the room of Mars, an anteroom of the 
 Gallery of Apollo. The roof, the covings, and the 
 space over the doors of the hall of Mars were decorated 
 by Mignard, as was also the Gallery of Apollo. Over 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 207 
 
 the entrance was the birth of Apollo and Diana ; 
 in the middle of the arch, Apollo, the god of day, 
 driving his chariot ; to the right and left were the 
 four seasons ; and at the end of the gallery, above the 
 Avindows, was Parnassus. Gilding, pictures, flowers, 
 allegorical figures, medallions in bronze and cameo, 
 and other works of art completed the wonderful deco- 
 ration of this beautiful gallery. At the end was the 
 door into the room of Diana, where Mignard had 
 painted his masterpieces. On the ceiling the goddess 
 of night; in the covings the toilette, the hunt, the 
 bath, and the sleep of the huntress Diana. Returning 
 through the Gallery of Apollo and the room of Mars, 
 we entered the room of Venus, where Lemoyne had 
 painted on the ceiling Juno borrowing the cestus of 
 the Queen of Love ; beyond was the room of Truth, 
 so called from a ceiling-picture of that goddess, 
 painted by Antoine Coypel ; further still were the 
 rooms of Mercury and of Aurora, likewise adorned 
 with allegorical paintings. 
 
 All these majestic halls, with their mythological 
 names and decorations, appealed to Bonaparte's 
 southern imagination and recalled the familiar remi- 
 niscences of pagan antiquity. He liked to go 
 through the brilliant Gallery of Apollo, which had 
 brought him good luck on the 19th Brumaire, and 
 which Avas for Saint Cloud what the Gallery of Mi- 
 nors is for Versailles. It was thickly crowded every 
 Sunday after mass — cardinals, bishops, senators, 
 councillors of state, deputies, tribunes, generals, am- 
 
208 THE WIFE OF THE FIHST CONSUL. 
 
 bassadors, magistrates, Royalists, Republicans, all the 
 most distinguished French citizens, as well as for- 
 eigners were there together, and on an equal footing. 
 The First Consul spoke to almost every one, and 
 often their private affairs were discussed. The most 
 astute confined themselves to paying their court to 
 him. Then they went to ]\Iadame IV^naparte, who 
 had taken the ai)artmcnt of INIarie Antoinette in the 
 left wing. The most distinguished foreign ladies 
 were presented to her, among whom were the Zanio- 
 iskas, the Potockas, the Castel-Fortes, the Dorsets, 
 the Gordons, the Newcastles, the Dolgoroukis, the 
 Galitzines. When Bonaparte permitted the mem- 
 bers of the Diplomatic Body to pay their homage to 
 him, had he not the airs and language of a mon- 
 arch? And did not Josephine receive like a queen 
 or empress? 
 
 From that time a rigid etiquette prevailed at Saint 
 Cloud. General Duroc, the governor of the palace, 
 maintained a table for the officers and ladies-in-wait- 
 ing and for the aides. The First Consul dined alone 
 with his wife, but twice a week he invited officials to 
 his table. The military household consisted of four 
 generals in command of the Consular G uard , — Gen- 
 erals Lannes, Bessieres, Davoust, and Soult; and 
 seven aides, — Colonels Lemarois, Caffarelli, Caulain- 
 court, Savary, Rapp, Fontanelli, and Captain Lebrun, 
 son of the Third Consul. There were four prefects of 
 the palace, — Messrs. de Lucay, de R(^nuisat, Didelot, 
 and de Cramayel ; and four latlies of the palace, — Ma- 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 209 
 
 dame cle Lii9ay, Madame de Talhouet, Madame de 
 Remusat, and Madame de Lauriston. The prefects 
 of the paLace had charge of the service, the etiquette, 
 and the performances. The ladies had to be in wait- 
 ing upon the wife of the First Consul and to make 
 the presentations. There was so complete a return 
 to the customs of the Court of Versailles that it Avas 
 seriously proposed to require that powder should be 
 worn by every one wlio came to the castle. But the 
 First Consul could not bring himself to wearing it, 
 and so every one was left free to do as he pleased 
 about it. Every one was given to understand that 
 the First Consul preferred to see powder and " bag- 
 wig " ; so most of the foreigners, and especially the 
 English, who wore their hair short and without pow- 
 der, used to attend his receptions with whitened hair 
 and a bag fastened to their coat-collar. 
 
 The chapel at Saint Cloud was not unlike that at 
 Versailles. Bonaparte required atheists to be pres- 
 ent at mass on Sundays. I am reminded of what La 
 Bruyere has said : " The great people of the nation 
 meet at a certain hou,r in a temple which they call a 
 church ; at the end of the temple is an altar conse- 
 crated to their God. . . . The grandees form a large 
 circle at the foot of this altar, and stand with their 
 back to this altar, and the holy ministers with their 
 faces turned towards their King, who is to be seen 
 kneeling on a tribune, and to whom they seem to 
 direct their attention and devotion. There is a sort 
 
210 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 of subjection in this custom, as if the people were 
 adoring the King, and the King adoring God." 
 
 The appearance of the theatre which Bonaparte 
 had built in 1803, beyond the orange-house, completes 
 the resemblance to monarchical Avays. No one can 
 applaud or weep or laugh without the master's signal. 
 The Diplomatic Body was formally invited to the rep- 
 resentations. The First Consul sat in the front of a 
 box on the right of the stage ; behind him stood the 
 aides and officers in waiting. Opposite was the box 
 of Madame Bonaparte with her ladies. The other 
 boxes in the first balcony were occupied by the mem- 
 bers of his family, the ministers, the ambassadors, and 
 their wives. Every one stood up when Bonaparte and 
 Josephine came in and bowed to the audience. Some- 
 times the large door at the back, through which the 
 scenery was brought in, would be thrown open, show- 
 ing the brilliantly illuminated gardens. 
 
 The park of Saint Cloud, which is nearly a thou- 
 sand acres in extent, is most beautiful with its vener- 
 able trees, its green turf, its picturesque eminences. 
 The fountain rises eighty-eight feet ; the arcades are 
 of most graceful construction, and the celebrated cas- 
 cades where the water falls down a series of high 
 steps are most brilliant in the blazing sun or under 
 the colored lights of an illumination. The lantern of 
 Demosthenes, the little Greek building which used to 
 stand on the highest point of the park, commanding 
 a lovely view of the river below, was especially 
 charminsf. It would have been hard to find a more 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 211 
 
 beautiful view, a grander panorama. Obviously a 
 place like this was full of attractions for the young 
 enthusiastic officers in the suite of the First Consul, 
 and everywhere he appeared as a sovereign who was 
 also a general. All this display of grandeur liad a 
 military quality. He carried no sceptre, but some- 
 thing better, — his sword. The hero of the Pyramids 
 is greater than the civil ruler ; his glory outshines his 
 rank. 
 
 Bonaparte's working-room at Saint Cloud was a 
 large room, lined with books from floor to ceiling. 
 There he used to sit on a small sofa covered with 
 green watered-silk, near the fireplace, above which 
 were placed two bronze busts of Scipio and Hannibal. 
 Behind the sofa, in the corner, was the desk of M^ne- 
 val, his secretary, who had taken Bourrienne's place. 
 By the side of this room was a little drawing-room 
 where the First Consul used to receive Talleyrand, 
 his Minister of Foreign Affairs, and where he gave 
 private audiences. In this di-awing-room he had 
 placed a portrait of Gustavus Adolphus, his favorite 
 hero. The only ornament in his bedroom on the 
 ground floor, commanding a view of the garden, was 
 an antique bust of Cicsar. 
 
 Bonaparte understood how to satisfy his visitors 
 with a word or a smile. In the Memoirs of General 
 de Segur is a good description of those glorious days 
 at Saint Cloud. S^gur had at first been opposed to 
 Bonaparte, from his feeling of caste and his devo- 
 tion to the Republic. On the day of the Te Deum 
 
212 THE WIFE OF THE FTBST CONSUL. 
 
 on account of the Concordat, lie had been one of the 
 band of discontented officers : but the hero of Marenofo 
 said a few kind words to him and he was at once 
 overwhelmed with happiness and enthusiasm. 
 
 "Citizen St^nir," Bonaparte began, with a loud 
 voice, in the Gallery of Apollo, among a number of 
 senatoi'S, tribunes, legislators, and generals, " I have 
 appointed 3aiu on my })ors()iial staff ; your duty will 
 be to command my body-guard. You see what con- 
 fidence I place in you, you will deserve it; your 
 ability and your worth promise swift promotion." 
 Then he passed along the gallery, through the double 
 line of courtiei-s, to the tribune in the chapel where 
 he heard mass. S(5gur was in an ecstasy. "Drunk 
 with joy," he says, "and scarcely conscious of touching 
 the earth, I hastened through the brilliant halls, and 
 took possession of them. I returned and stopped at 
 the place which I now see before me, where I had 
 just heard those gratifying words ; I paused and re- 
 peated them a hundi'ed times. It seemed to me that 
 they made me a partaker of the glory of the con- 
 queror of Italy, Egypt, and France. I do not know 
 what was the real weather of that autumn day (Octo- 
 ber 27, 1802), but it remains in my memory as the 
 brightest, most beautiful day of the year that I had 
 yet seen." 
 
 All the contemporary writers describe this period 
 as one of real enchantment. France is never so happy 
 as when it is exultant with pride ; no nation endures 
 so ill misfortune or mediocrity. Nothing but the 
 
THE PALACE OF .SAINT CLOUD. ' 213 
 
 highest jwsition will satisfy it. Bonaparte, 'who' 
 thoroughly understood the French character, ruled 
 it through its vanity. He continually said, " You are 
 the happiest, the l)est, the most famous, the greatest 
 of nations ! " And France believed him ; for the 
 country was like a beautiful woman gazing with 
 rapture into a miiTor. With this spirit in jjrosperity, 
 there exists the impossil)ility of believing in the 
 remotest chance of defeat ; its self-confidence amounts 
 to infatuation. What is true of the country is also 
 true of Bonaparte after his election to tlie Consulate 
 for life. He imagined himself faultless, infallible, 
 invincible, and this confidence he communicated to 
 others. Louis XIV. in all the brilliancy of his youth 
 never received such adulation. 
 
 But twelve years later Saint Cloud presents a dif- 
 ferent spectacle. The Prussian horses are drinking 
 in the waters of the park, which is converted into a 
 camp, and invaded by a horde of foreigners. A pack 
 of dogs which follows Bliicher everywhere occupies 
 and ruins the boudoir of the Empress Marie Louise. 
 The books of the library are strewn helter-skelter over 
 the floor. July 13, 1815, Prince Metternich wrote to 
 his daughter : " I have dined with Bliicher, who has 
 his headquarters at Saint Cloud. He inhabits this 
 castle as a^ general of hussars. He and his aides 
 smoke where we have seen the court in its greatest 
 splendor ; I dined in the room where I have spent 
 hours talking with Napoleon. The army-tailors are 
 quartered where we used to see the plays, and the 
 
214 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 musicians of a regiment of riflemen were catching the 
 gokliish in the large basin under the castle windows. 
 As I was going through the great gallery, the old 
 marshal said to me, ' What a fool the man must be to 
 go running off to Moscow when he had all these fine 
 things at home ! ' As I looked down from the balcony 
 at the great city, with all its domes shining at sunset, 
 I said to myself, ' This city and this sun will glow 
 like this when there is nothing remembered of Na- 
 poleon or of Bliicher, and certainly nothing of me.' 
 The immutable laws of nature are always the same, 
 and we, poor creatures, who think so much of our- 
 selves, live only to make a show by our perpetual 
 movement, by our dabbling in the mud or in the 
 quicksand." 
 
 Bossuet was right when he spoke of that " foolish 
 wisdom, ingenious in self-tormenting, skilful in self- 
 deceit, corrupt in the present, vain in the future, 
 which by much reasoning and vast efforts, only wastes 
 itself to no purpose, collecting things which the wind 
 scatters." When from the heights of Saint Cloud the 
 two Napoleons looked upon their fete-days at the 
 great capital all ablaze with illuminations, at the 
 Pantheon, Saint Sulpice, the Tuileries, the Louvre, 
 the bright dome of the Invalides, at the bursting fire- 
 works, could they have anticipated the ^ther flames 
 which a few years later were to destroy their two 
 palaces ? Nowhere is the emptiness of human glory- 
 more strongly impressed upon the beholder than by 
 these ruins. Whenever the imagination is fascinated 
 
THE PALACE OF SAINT CLOUD. 215 
 
 by the splendor of imperial pomp, by the memory of 
 so many victories, so many wonders, a hidden voice, 
 like that of the slave in the ancient triumphs, seems 
 to murmur those two names. Saint Cloud and the 
 Tuileries. 
 
II. 
 
 THE COjSTSFLATE FOE LIFE. 
 
 IN history, as in art, there is always infatuation 
 and fashion ; and reputations, like the pictures 
 of the masters, rise or fall according to the time or 
 the circumstances. Glory is eclipsed, like the sun. 
 Napoleon who was perhaps more famous at the Resto- 
 ration and during the reign of Louis Philippe than in 
 that of Napoleon III., now finds possibly more to con- 
 demn than to praise him. In the time of Louis XVIII. 
 and Charles X., the opposition, to whatever party 
 it belonged, made out of Napoleon's glory a weapon 
 against the Bourbons ; and the most advanced liberals, 
 with an enthusiasm which was perhaps not quite sin- 
 cere, chanted the praises of the new Cresar. It was a 
 Republican poet, Bdranger, who was the most popular 
 singer of an emperor, and in the days of Jul}', it has 
 been said that there were as many Bonapartists as 
 Orleanists among the insurgents. Louis Philippe 
 felt bound to preserve the memories of the Em})ire 
 even in the palace of Louis XIV., and to place David's 
 picture of the coronation of Napoleon at the top of 
 the marble staircase. He sent his son, the Prince of 
 2X0 
 
THE CONSULATE FOR LIFE. 217 
 
 Joinville, to Saint Helena to bring back the ashes of the 
 hero of Austerlitz. On the threshokl of the Invalides, 
 the Prince said to his father, " Sire, I present to you 
 the body of Napoleon, which I have brought back to 
 France in obedience to your orders." Louis Philippe 
 answered, " I receive it in the name of France." 
 Napoleon's sword was brought in on a cushion. The 
 King took it from the hands of Marshal Soult and 
 gave it to General Bertrand, the courtier of Saint 
 Helena, saying, " General, I charge you with placing 
 the glorious sword of the Emperor upon his coffin." 
 It was then the fashion among liberals to hold to this 
 conclusion of a history of Napoleon by Laurent de 
 I'Ardeche, illustrated by Horace Vernet: "Yes, in 
 spite of all the past, the people went back to him, 
 and will always stay with him ; yes, in spite of the 
 attempted aristocratic reorganization, the crowned 
 soldier will be to future generations what he was 
 for contemporary monarchs, the terror of old Europe, 
 the genius of the new France, the child of Democracy, 
 the hero of the Revolution." Curiously enough, the 
 four writers who have done the most for Napoleon's 
 glory, did not belong to the party of the Empire, 
 — Beranger, Victor Hugo, Thiers, and Chateaubriand. 
 To-day the dithyrambs are silent. The only man 
 who in these later years has sung in epic form the 
 giant of battles is Victor Hugo, and he did it in a 
 book without mercy for the Emperor's successor, in 
 the " Chatiments." But there was such secret affinity 
 between the poet and the general, that in spite of 
 
218 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 himself he composed the most magnificent and most 
 wonderful verse about Napoleon that was ever 
 written. 
 
 Now, the critical, analytical spirit has succeeded to 
 this lyrical fire. The popular songs are silent. No 
 one sings in the streets the " Memories of the People," 
 and the impartial judge tries to determine the truth 
 between the dithyramb and the satire. Hence the 
 moment is favorable for studying Napoleon's charac- 
 ter, without fanaticism, without prejudice, calmly 
 and loyally. 
 
 There are many ways of looking at a man; he 
 changes with time ; and the great fault of historians, 
 when they have to judge a celebrated person, is, that 
 they make but a single portrait, instead of a series, 
 which to be true to the model ought to be unlike one 
 another. The Count of Las Cases, in the " Memorial of 
 Saint Helena," shows an exact image ; but we cannot 
 judge, from the Napoleon of 1816, of the Napoleons 
 of earlier years. The Emperor, beaten, unhappy, a 
 prisoner, became a great philosopher, under the les- 
 sons of an experience of human vicissitudes. He had 
 no more exultations of pride, no more intoxication of 
 power, no more clouds of incense. Purified, regene- 
 rated by misfortune. Napoleon improved morally, as 
 he sank materially. 
 
 Nor must we confound the First Consul with the 
 Emperor. The Empire is an exaggeration of the 
 Consulate. It is as First Consul that we see Napo- 
 leon most truly himself, before he was caught in the 
 
THE CONSULATE FOB LIFE. 219 
 
 tempest of war which ended by making him like a 
 blind, unconscious force. Napoleon as Emperor as- 
 sumes superhuman proportions, to say which, to my 
 thinking, is far from praise. Amid the splendor of 
 Imperialism he was so carried away and fascinated 
 by his OAvn glory, that he, so to speak, lost conscious- 
 ness of his identity. Beneath the mantle of the 
 sovereign one can scarcely hear the beating heart of 
 the man. The hero's destiny is like a wonderful 
 romance, wdiicli with its incidents plunges him into 
 ecstatic surprise. He attains so lofty a height that 
 we cannot understand why his head did not reel. 
 
 As Thiers has well said : " It is hard to detect kind- 
 ness in a soldier forever occupied in strewing the 
 Avorld with corpses, friendship in a man who never 
 had equals, honesty in a potentate who was master 
 of the wealth of the world." We are about to study 
 the Consul for life, and we shall consult the testi- 
 mony of his contemporaries for answers to these ques- 
 tions : Was Napoleon a religious man ? Had he a 
 good heart? Had he intelligence? imagination? 
 Was he a genius ? We shall study the two sides of 
 each question, summoning the witnesses for and 
 against, who appear before the highest tribunal, the 
 tribunal of history. 
 
 Was Napoleon a religious man? This is the tes- 
 timony of Prince Metternich : " Napoleon was not 
 irreligious in the ordinary sense of the word. He 
 did not admit that there ever was a sincere atheist. 
 As a Christian and a Catholic, it was to a genuine 
 
220 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 relicfion alone that lie s^rantecl the risfht of trovernins" 
 human society. He looked upon Christianity as the 
 basis of all real civilization, and on Catholicism as 
 the most favorable, used for the maintenance of order 
 and of the peace of the moral world. Protestantism 
 he held to be a source of trouble and dissension. 
 Indifferent liimself to the rites of religion, he re- 
 spected 'them too much to alloAY an}' ridicule of those 
 who practised them. Possibly religion was with him 
 less an affair of feeling than one of polic}^ ; but what- 
 ever may have been his secret thought, he never 
 betrayed it." 
 
 For mj'self, I am inclined to believe that Napo- 
 leon's religion, however incomplete it may have been, 
 was at least sincere. He had faith in God, and 
 thought that Heaven had given him a mission to 
 fulfil on earth. The Baron de Meneval says : " When 
 he used to say that the bullet which was going to 
 kill him had not yet been moulded, it was mere fatal- 
 ism ; he thought that his providential mission was 
 not yet finished. When he wrote to the Directory 
 that just when approaching Egypt he saw a ship 
 which he thought belonged to the hostile fleet, and 
 that he besought Fortune not to abandon him, but 
 to grant him only five days, he mentally translated 
 Fortune by an omnipotent Providence." He was not 
 merely a deist and interested in spiritual things ; he 
 had Catholic feelings which were intimately connected 
 with his infantile memories. Meneval says on this 
 subject: "His habit of crossing himself mechanically 
 
THE CONSULATE FOR LIFE. 221 
 
 at the revelation of a great clanger, on the discovery 
 of any important fact bearing on the interests of 
 France or his own plans, at the announcement of an 
 unexpected, piece of news, good or bad, was not 
 merely a reminiscence of his early religious training, 
 but rather an expression of his feeling that to the 
 Author of all things he owed these favors or these 
 tidings. His expectation of aid from on high at Jthe 
 decisive moment of a battle ; his frequent allusions 
 in his talk, in his proclamations, in his bulletins, to 
 the sole Judge who holds in his hands the issues of 
 all events ; the religious thoughts called up to his 
 mind at the sight of a church or at the sound of its 
 ])ell ; his re-establishment of Catholicism in France ; 
 liis recourse to the consolations of religion in liis last 
 moments, — all attest his faith in Providence." 
 
 Napoleon was not a devout Catholic. It cannot 
 be said that he was a believer, but still less that he 
 was an unbeliever; he doubted and hoped. Doubt- 
 less, if he had been a fervent Christian, he would 
 have hastened to have his marriage with Josephine 
 blessed by the Church, for during the Consulate it 
 was only a civil marriage ; and he would have taken 
 communion, which he did not do. Yet, like many 
 men, he was at heart religious, although not practis- 
 ing the forms. The Voltairian spirit filled him with 
 repugnance, and he bowed before the cross with deep 
 respect. Under the Consulate political considerations 
 were superior to those of religion ; but at Saint Helena, 
 face to face with death, the Christian reappeared, 
 
222 THE WIFE OF THE FIIiST CONSUL. 
 
 and the conqueror of so many battles terminated his 
 agitated career as a good Catholic. He piously re- 
 ceived the consolations of religion, asking for all the 
 usual Catholic rites at his funeral, and that he should 
 lie in state in the dining-room in which he was accus- 
 tomed to hear mass ; and when Dr. Antomarchi smiled 
 at hearing these instructions given to Abbe Vignale, 
 Bonaparte said to him with some severity, "Young 
 man, you are perhaps too intelligent to believe in 
 God. I'm not like you. Not every one who wants 
 to be is an atheist." 
 
 Was Napoleon kind? This is what Madame de 
 R^musat testifies as witness for the prosecution : " I 
 ought now to speak of Napoleon's heart. If it is pos- 
 sible to believe that a being, in other respects like to 
 ourselves, could yet be without this part of our organ- 
 ization which makes us require to love and to be 
 loved, I should say that at his creation his heart was 
 forgotten, or else that he succeeded in entirely silenc- 
 ing it. He always takes too much interest in^ himself 
 to be controlled by any feeling of affection whatso- 
 ever. He almost ignores even the ties of blood, the 
 rights of nature." 
 
 After Madame de R^musat let us hear Prince Met- 
 ternich, whose testimony inclines to neither side : 
 " Napoleon had two forces. As a private citizen he 
 was gentle and tractable, neither kind nor malicious. 
 As a statesman, he was not moved by feeling ; he 
 decided without bias of love or hate. He crushed or 
 removed his enemies, without consulting anything 
 
THE CONSULATE FOB LIFE. 223 
 
 but necessity or interest. The end once attained, 
 he forgot them." 
 
 So much for the testimony for the prosecution. 
 Bourrienne Avho, perhaps in spite of himself, nour- 
 ished a certain occult jealousy against his former col- 
 lege-comrade who had become the arbiter of Europe, 
 does not hesitate to say : " Bonaparte was tender, 
 kind, open to pity ; he liked children very much, and 
 wicked men seldom know that feeling. In his pri- 
 vate life he Avas pleasant and indulgent to human 
 weakness, which he knew and appreciated well. . . . 
 Most men, he used to say, are weak, and deserve pity 
 rather than hatred. They cannot be lifted up by 
 overwhelming them with scorn ; on the contrary, it is 
 better to persuade them that they are better than they 
 really are in order to get from them whatever they 
 may be capable of." 
 
 After Bourrienne, let us call on his other secretary, 
 M^neval : " Bonaparte seemed like a father in the 
 midst of his family. His renunciation of greatness 
 had an inexpressible charm. I could never get over 
 my surprise at seeing the simple ways of a man who 
 from afar appeared so imposing. I expected roughness 
 and an unc©rtain temper ; instead of that, I found Napo- 
 leon easy-going, not at all exacting, full of a sportive 
 and sometimes boisterous gayety, and sometimes really 
 delightful." 
 
 His aide. General Rapp, says : " No one was more 
 constant in his affections than Napoleon. He loved 
 his mother tenderly, he adored his wife, he was very 
 
224 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 fond of his brothers and sisters, and of all his relatives. 
 All, except his mother, treated him most unkindly, 
 but nevertheless he continually overwhelmed them 
 with wealth and honors." 
 
 Napoleon's family feeling is undeniable. Prince 
 Metternich himself recognized it when he said: "A 
 good son and a kind relative, with distinctions such 
 as one often finds in middle-class Italian families, 
 Napoleon endured the attacks of some of his family 
 without exercising sufficient force of will to stop them, 
 even when his interests required it. His sisters, in 
 particular, got from him whatever they wanted. 
 Neither of his wives had occasion to complain of his 
 treatment." October 18, 1801, Josephine wrote to 
 her mother in Martinique : " You ought to love Bona- 
 parte. He makes your daughter very happy. He is 
 a charming man." 
 
 Once, when a boy, he had just left his brother 
 Joseph, to go to the school in Brienne, and in taking 
 leave he had shed but one tear, which he had in vain 
 tried to hide, while his brother was all in tears. A 
 j)riest, their teacher, who saw them, said to Joseph, 
 " He has shed only one tear, but tliat shows his grief 
 as much as all of yours." King Joseph, who reports 
 this anecdote in his Memoirs, adds that there was a 
 great difference between his brother's real character 
 and the artificial character which circumstances had 
 compelled him to assume. " Napoleon," he goes on, 
 " had some rare qualities, which he later thought it 
 necessary to hide under the artificial character which 
 
THE CONSULATE FOE LIFE. 225 
 
 he tried to acquire wlien lie came to power, on the 
 pretext that men needed to be led by a man as strong 
 and just as the laAv, and not by a ruler whose kindness 
 would be interpreted as weakness when it did not rest 
 on inflexible justice." Joseph concluded that his 
 brother " was much more truly a just and good man 
 than a great warrior or great administrator " ; and 
 Thiers is not far from this opinion when he says, 
 " As soon as Napoleon ceased to rule, and had no need 
 to restrain or arouse men, he became gentle, simple, 
 just, with the justice of a great mind that knows 
 humanity, understands its weaknesses, and pardons 
 them because they are inevitable." 
 
 To those who maintain that Napoleon was kind, 
 there has been objected his cold indifference on the 
 battle-field, but for soldiers this indifference is a 
 matter of professional duty. War is like hunting. 
 A man who is prominent in the Society for the Pre- 
 vention of Cruelty to Animals becomes absolutely 
 cruel when he is hunting a hare or a partridge. For 
 a general in the hour of action, the enemy is only 
 human game ; but after the battle, the soldier be- 
 comes once more generous and luimane. A soldier 
 who has returned home is as mild as a child, yet he 
 was a terrible creature in a hot fight with his bayonet 
 at the end of his gun. AVas there ever a kinder 
 father than Marshal Pelissier? yet, when he had to 
 give the signal of the assault of Sebastopol, did he 
 feel a moment's hesitation or pity ? 
 
 Some may urge Napoleon's outbursts of anger ; 
 
226 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CO]\'SUL. 
 
 but these did not arise from an evil disposition, they 
 were rather put on for show, wilful outbreaks to pro- 
 duce some needed effect; the result of calculation, 
 not of passion. 
 
 To this question we may add another: Did Napo- 
 leon like women? Again, Madame de R^musat ap- 
 pears for the prosecution. According to her. Napoleon 
 despised women, which, as she says, is not a way of 
 loving them. " Their weakness," she adds, " seemed 
 to him an uncontrovertible ]3roof of their inferiority, 
 and the power they have acquired in society appeared 
 to him an unendurable usurpation, a consequence 
 and an abuse of the progress of civilization, Avhich, 
 as M. de Talleyrand expressed it, was always some- 
 what his personal enemy. Consequently, Bonaparte 
 was never quite at his ease with women ; and since 
 this lack of ease put him somewhat out of temper, 
 he always approached awkwaixlly, not knowing how 
 to talk with them. ... I should be inclined to 
 believe that Bonaparte, who was almost always busy 
 with political questions, was scarcely ever moved by 
 love except through his vanity. He cared for a 
 woman only if she was handsome, or at least young. 
 He may perhaps have thought that in a well-organ- 
 ized society we should be put to death, as certain 
 insects die naturally, the work of maturity once ac- 
 complished." This is damaging testimony; and were 
 it not for Madame de Remusat's unimpeachable repu- 
 tation, I should be tempted to detect something like 
 spitefulness in her language. 
 
THE CONSULATE FOB LIFE. 227 
 
 Yet Prince Metteniicli is scarcely more favorable 
 in his judgment. " Never," he says, " did he address 
 a gracious or even a polite phrase to a woman, al- 
 though one could perceive by liis expression, or the 
 sound of his voice, that he tried to do so. He spoke 
 to women only about their dress, of which he boasted 
 that he was a particular and severe judge ; or else about 
 the number of their children, and one of his favorite 
 questions was whether they nursed them themselves, — 
 a question which he often asked in language unusual 
 in good society. Sometimes he made a numljer of 
 inquiries abont the secret relations of society, which, 
 so far as the choice of place and methods was con- 
 cerned, gave to his conversations an air of misplaced 
 admonitions rather than the character of di-a wing- 
 room talk." 
 
 Certainly the man of the camp was never a man of 
 society. The trivialities of gallantry seemed to him 
 absurd, and his voice, accustomed to commanding, 
 could not adopt soft modulations. Like most of the 
 men of his generation, he paid his tribute to the 
 school of Jean Jacques Rousseau, and his letters to 
 Josephine during the first Italian campaign were 
 written in the style of the " Nouvelle Heloise " ; but 
 he soon abandoned a method which only suited the 
 honeymoon, and would sound very odd after a few 
 years of matrimony. Without doubt he lacked the 
 exaggerated sensibility which Berquin and Florian 
 had introduced ; he looked ujdou it as an affectation 
 as it existed at the end of the eighteenth century, 
 
228 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 wlien the word, if not the thing itself, had become 
 ridiculous in his eyes. Since in his heart he re- 
 mained a military man, he detested sentimentalism. 
 Whenever he fell in love, it was with a sort of wild 
 fury. He conquered a woman like a province ; he 
 never wooed, he subjugated ; to humiliate himself 
 before a woman would have seemed like a sort of 
 abdication. His imperious and masterful character 
 appeared in his amours ; he reproached the old kings 
 for their gallantry as a form of weakness, and never 
 let himself be enslaved by love. He made it a point 
 of honor to seem invulnerable and proof against the 
 shafts of love ; hence in his relations with women of 
 renowned beauty or intelligence he assumed rough 
 ways, though he could be, when he wished, very 
 charming. The women who wanted to rule him but 
 failed all owed him a grudge, as we see from their 
 words or their writings. They accused the man who 
 resisted them of being insensible, brutal, ill-mannered, 
 heartless. But there is evident exaggeration in these 
 readily explicable accusations. 
 
 Napoleon did not, as has been unjustly said, de- 
 spise women; he esteemed virtuous women and set 
 great store by domestic life and Christian marriage. 
 He adored and revered his mother, and many of the 
 most odious accusations brought against him fall to 
 the ground from lack of proof and do not demand 
 discussion. 
 
 Another question arises : Was Napoleon a man of 
 intelligence ? The affirmative answer seems certain. 
 
THE CONSULATE FOE LIFE. 229 
 
 Even Madame de Remusat acknowledges the extreme 
 pleasure slie took in his conversation. " With him, 
 one idea called forth a thousand others, and the 
 slightest word raised his conversation to the loftiest 
 heights, in which perhaps sound logic falls away, but 
 his intelligence is no less remarkable. . . . His Ian- 
 guage is generally animated and brilliant, his errors 
 in grammar often give it an unexpected strength, 
 which is well supported by the originality of his 
 ideas. He grows interested in his conversation with- 
 out plying. From the moment he takes up a subject, 
 he is off far away, but careful to notice if he is fol- 
 lowed, and grateful to those who understand and 
 applaud him. . . . Like an orator who gathers 
 strength from the effect he produces, Bonaparte en- 
 joys the approval which he sought for in the eyes 
 of his auchence." 
 
 Prince Metternich pays like homage to Napoleon's 
 intelligence. " Talking with him has always had a 
 charm for me that I find hard to define. He would 
 seize the essential point, strip it of all useless acces- 
 sories, develop his thought, and go on elaborating it 
 until it was perfectly clear and conclusive, always 
 fincUng the right word, or inventing it if it did not 
 exist, so that his conversation was always full of 
 interest." In the whole history of humanity there 
 has perhaps never been a keener, more profound, 
 more original, more brilliant intelligence. 
 
 Was Napoleon a man of imagination? On this 
 matter, doubt is impossible. All his life Napoleon 
 
230 THE WIFE OF TUE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 was a man of action and a dreamer. AVhen tired 
 with his grandiose plans, liis mind would rest by 
 recalling the happy days of his youth. He liked to 
 talk about Corsica, his infancy, and his old father, 
 who had said to him, " You, Napoleon, you will be a 
 great man ! " His life was full of poetry from his 
 cradle to the tomb. The instincts of an artist lay at 
 the bottom of this concpieror's heart. " When I first 
 knew him," says Madame de Rdmusat, "he liked 
 eyeiything which tended to revery, — Ossian, twilight, 
 melancholy nuisic. I have seen him listen with rap- 
 ture to the nuirmur of the wind, and speak with 
 delight of the roar of the sea ; and I have known him 
 to be tempted to believing in the possibility of mid- 
 night apparitions ; in a word, to incline towards cer- 
 tain superstitions. When in the evening lie had left 
 his Avorking-room for Madame Bonaparte's drawing- 
 room, he would sometimes have the lights covered by 
 a white veil ; and then, after commanding strict 
 silence, he took pleasure in telling and hearing ghost 
 stories, or else he would listen to low, soft songs from 
 Italian singers, with a very gentle accompaniment. 
 Then he would fall into a revery, which ever}^ one 
 was afraid to disturb by moving or changing place. 
 When aroused, he seemed rested, and became calmer 
 and more communicative." 
 
 More of a poet in action than any other great man, 
 more than Alexander, more than Caesar, and more 
 than Charlemagne, Napoleon, in prosperity and in 
 adversity, was like a great actor, playing, not merely 
 
THE CONSULATE FOR LIFE. 231 
 
 for his contemporaries, but still more for posterity. 
 Had he been a mere tactician and administrator, he 
 would not have roused the masses. Lamartine is 
 wrong in saying that during the Napoleonic period 
 there were only two things, — the budget and the 
 sword ; there was an ideal, glory. Great things are 
 never accomplished without immaterial elements ; and 
 as Napoleon himself said, it is imagination that rules 
 the world. 
 
 The man who inspired Chateaubriand with the 
 finest passages, of his " Memoires d'Outetombe," 
 Thiers with his " History of the Consulate and of 
 the Empire," Lamartine with his " Ode to Bona- 
 parte," Beranger with his "Memoirs of the People," 
 Heine with his " Two Grenadiers," and Victor Hugo 
 with the most magnificent words that have ever 
 sounded on the lyre, — that man, if he possessed no 
 other merit, would deserve to be called a man of 
 genius. Prince Metternich is in error when he says, 
 " The opinion of the world is, and always will be, 
 divided on the question whether Napoleon is entitled 
 to be called a great man." Doubt on that subject is 
 impossible. Napoleon is great by his successes, his 
 faults, and his misfortunes. Everything about him 
 was colossal, immeasurable, — the evil as well as the 
 good. His was a prodigious character that cannot 
 be judged by ordinary standards. Pigmies are too 
 short and their eyes are too dim to be able to look 
 at the giant. Great men are like wide views — they 
 
232 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 are best seen from a height ; they require to be looked 
 at from a distance and from a lofty position, with, 
 due regard to optical effects ; otherwise it is im- 
 possible to take account of the changes of opinion, 
 and history becomes inexplicable. One does not 
 look at the sun through a magnifying-glass. It is 
 impossible to understand Napoleon witliout under- 
 standing the French Revolution, which produced liim. 
 There was in him something novel, violent, and 
 strange, as in the events in which he grew up. He 
 was the principal figure in a period which is one 
 long series of unprecedented phenomena. 
 
 Doubtless it may be maintained that his genius was 
 an evil for humanity, that he brought on France a 
 real avalanche of woe, that the results obtained were 
 singularly disproportionate to the loss of life; but 
 however Napoleon may be denounced, it is impossible 
 to deny his greatness. His bitterest enemies have 
 cursed him, but without questioning his glory; and 
 even Chateaubriand himself, the author of the famous 
 pamphlet, " Bonaparte and the Bourbons," which was 
 of more service than an army to Louis XVIII., said 
 after Napoleon's death, " I could not measure the 
 giant's greatness until he had fallen." No man can 
 so take possession of his time and of history, unless 
 he is really extraordinary. What country has not 
 echoed with the magic name of Napoleon ? When a 
 few years ago the Shah of Persia came to Paris, his 
 first visit was to the Emperor's tomb, and before 
 
THE CONSULATE FOB LIFE. 233 
 
 going clown into the crypt, he respectfully removed 
 his sword, as if he did not dare to appear armed 
 before the shade of the great man. In the eyes of 
 posterity Napoleon will diminish as a politician, but 
 he will always grow as a poetical figure. 
 
III. 
 
 JOSEPHINE IN 1803. 
 
 IN 1803 Josephine was forty years old. Her 
 beauty was a little faded, but she treated her 
 face so skilfully, and dressed with such taste, her ex- 
 pression was so charming, her smile so sweet, her 
 bearing so graceful, her manners so fine, that she 
 was still very attractive, and might almost pass for a 
 pretty woman. She was treated like a queen, and 
 yet unexpected and moral greatness sat easily upon 
 her. She received so Avell, had such connnand of 
 the art of saying a kind word to every one, her mem- 
 ory was so good, her tact and readiness so conspicu- 
 ous, that she seemed born on the steps of the throne. 
 No party was hostile to her. The Rei)ublicans were 
 grateful for her friendship with Fouclie, who repre- 
 sented the revolutionary element in Bonaparte's sur- 
 roundino-s ; those who beloncred to the old r^o-ime 
 regarded her, and with reason, as their ally, and as 
 a real Royalist. Since she had been kind to every 
 one without exception, she aroused neither hate nor 
 anger ; those who judged that her morals were not 
 all that could be desired, never reproached her, and 
 234 
 
JOSEPHINE IN 1803. 235 
 
 the bitterest enemies of her husband spared her. By 
 her kindness she found favor among men of all parties. 
 
 In the beginning of 1803 a member of the Institute, 
 M. Ventenat, in dedicating to her a book entitled 
 " The Garden of Malmaison," -wrote this letter in a 
 style as flowery as the subject : " Madame, you have 
 thought that the taste for flowers should not be a 
 sterile study. You have brought together the rarest 
 French plants, and many which had never left the 
 deserts of Arabia and the burning sands of Egypt 
 have been naturalized by your orders, and now, care- 
 fully classified, they present to our eyes, in the garden 
 of Malmaison, the most channing memory^ of the con- 
 quests of your illustrious husband, and a most attentive 
 token of your studious leisure. You have been kind 
 enough to choose me to describe these different plants, 
 and to inform the public of the wealth of a garden 
 which already equals the best that England, Germany, 
 and Spain can boast of. Deign to accept the homage 
 of a task undertaken by your coramand." The gallant 
 botanist ended his letter with a compliment turned 
 after the fashion of his day : " If in the course of this 
 work I have described any one of the modest and benef- 
 icent plants that seem to exist only to spread around 
 them an influence as sweet as it is salutary, I shall 
 have, Madame, great difficulty to avoid making a com- 
 parison which, doubtless, will not escape my readers." 
 
 Josephine was popular, and she deserved her popu- 
 larity. All classes of society united in papng her 
 homage. This is the way in which her portrait is 
 
236 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 di-awn by some of her contemporaries. Madame de 
 R^musat readily acknowledges the charm of the First 
 Consul's wife. " Without being exactly pretty," she 
 says, "her whole appearance had a peculiar charm. 
 Her features were delicate and harmonious ; her 
 expression was gentle ; her mouth, which was very 
 small, did not disclose her teeth, which were not 
 good ; she disguised the brownness of her comj^lexion 
 with the aid of rouge and powder ; her figure was 
 perfect, her limbs were delicate and graceful ; every 
 movement was graceful, and of no one could it be 
 said more truthfully than of her, that her grace was 
 more beautiful than beauty. She di-essed with great 
 taste, and graced what she wore ; and thanks to these 
 advantages and her constant attention to dress, she 
 escaped being effaced by the beauty and youth of the 
 many women who surrounded her." 
 
 Napoleon's first valet. Constant, describes Josephine 
 as follows : " She was of medium height and very well 
 made. All her movements were light and graceful, 
 so that her wiilk was almost flitting, yet without los- 
 ing the majesty expected of a queen. Her expressive 
 countenance varied with her emotions, and yet it 
 always retained the charming sweetness which was 
 its main characteristic. Happy or unhappy, she was 
 a beautiful object. No woman ever more thoroughly 
 proved the truth of the statement that the eyes are 
 the mirror of the soul. Her own were dark blue and 
 almost always half hidden by her long lids, which 
 were slightly arched and bordered by the most beau- 
 
JOSEPHINE IN 1S03. 237 
 
 tiful lashes in the world, so that they had an irresist- 
 ible charm. Her hair was beautifully long and silky. 
 In the morning she liked to wear a red turban, which 
 gave her a most piquant Creole air." One of Jose- 
 phine's great charms was her soft, insinuating, musi- 
 cal voice. " How often it happened," says Constant, 
 " that I, like a good many others, would stop on hear- 
 ing this voice, simply for the pleasure of listening to 
 it ! " She read aloud very well, and liked to do it. 
 Napoleon preferred her to all his readers. 
 
 The most marked quality of her nature was kind- 
 ness. Being truly kind, she would have acquired the 
 quality of set purpose if she liad not already been 
 born with it. She had all that goes to make up this 
 disposition : gentleness, modesty, simplicity, compas- 
 sion for the unhappy, the desire to be useful and 
 agreeable, generosity, charity, and love of her neigh- 
 bor. Here is what Mademoiselle A^Tillon says on the 
 subject : " There was only one opinion about the ex- 
 quisite kindness of Madame Bonaparte ; instances 
 were abundant, and there was no limit to the eulogies 
 of her many admirable qualities. She was extremely 
 affable with all who were about her ; I do not believe 
 that there ever was a woman who made her high 
 station less perceptible." On this point Madame de 
 Remusat offers corroboratory testimony ; for she says, 
 speaking of Josephine : " With all her advantages she 
 united extreme kindness. Moreover, she was remark- 
 ably even-tempered ; she was very well disposed and 
 always ready to forget any evil done to her." Con- 
 
:i38 rm: win-: o/' v///-; riusr aKysri., 
 
 staiit s[H\>ks in (ho sauio wav : " Kindiioss \\ as as 
 imu'h part of hor I'hanii'tor as i^-raoo ot" Iut ihtsou. 
 l>oing" oxtivmolv kiiul, lomlor almost to o\rc>ss, «;imi- 
 ovous to profusion, sho nunlo all \\\\o wcvc noar hor 
 liappN, so no woman was i>vor ItrlttM- Unod or moro 
 closoi'voil to bo lovoil. . . . Uavino' knmvn unhapju- 
 iiess, sho had sympathy for otlioi-s : boino- alw ays oih)iI- 
 toinporoil and ohoorfnU as (>blio-ini;" to lior ononuos as 
 to hor frionds, sho niaiK' poaoo whoro forniorl\ ihoro 
 luul oxistod ipianvl anil dissonsion." 
 
 Was Jt^sophino olovor? Yi's, but sho did not jh^s- 
 soss that olovoi'uoss whioh manifosis itsolf in in>i'on- 
 ious thoughts or paradoxos, whioh is inspiri>d by 
 inalioo, ^vhioh finds uttorauoo in w ittioisms and bits 
 of saroasnu and doli^'hts in oossij) and soaudal, but 
 mtlior a quiot, amiablo olo\oinoss, oonsisiiui^' mainly 
 o( tai't, o( a oomju-oluMision of tlu> most dolioato and 
 subtlo distinotious, whioh roadily tinils tho oxaot 
 word; in short, tho host olovoruoss that tlioro is, 
 booauso it oomos from tho hoarl. Slu' had that raro 
 and oharmino- oift of listoniuL;' well. Hor q'ood mom- 
 my mado hor many frionds. If sho liapiuMiod to moot 
 any one whom sho had not soon for a lono- timo. sho 
 rooallod tho luinntost oiroiimstanoos of tho i>ast. and 
 outoroil iuti> tho ininutost dotails about thing-s whioh 
 ovou tho poi-sous iHUU'oruod had somotimos foro'otton. 
 
 lu juslioo it must bo said that, id" oourso. Josophiuo 
 had tho faults of lior (pialitios. (Jonorally, oonorosity 
 oasily booomos oxtra\ a^auoo, amiability oftou di'^'iMi- 
 oratos into silliuoss, and lj-ouiIimioss inti> woaknoss. 
 
JOHKI'IIINK IN IHOS. 289 
 
 Josopljirjfi waH chari tabic, but fihc ui?ed to get into 
 dol^t. " I^ioplc bring ni<; beautiful tbingn," whc Haid 
 oruj day Xm lioMni'-ii/u; ; "tlicy show rne bow pieciouH 
 tlicy are, and I buy tbcjin. They don't ask me to pay 
 them at the time, but Hend me the }>ill when I have 
 no money. Tlien tlmt gets to lionH]jaj1/;'s eai-s, and 
 be is angry. When I liave any money, you know 
 what I do with it; I give most of it to suffering jx;o- 
 ple who come \/) Ixig, to penniless <jmigr<js." Jose- 
 pliine was kind and Ix^nevohiUt, }>ut she received with 
 equal warmth honorable persoas and those of a tar- 
 nished reputation. She was gentle, but her cliara<;ter 
 lacked seriousness ; she displayc-d excessive indul- 
 gence to women of a blemislied reputation ; all her 
 tastes were frivolous*, her conversation was empty, 
 and she liad no influence over her hiisljarid in impor- 
 tant matt^irs. It would iKjt have Ix^en easy for any 
 woman to give political advice to a man who stoutly 
 upheld the privileges of hi« sex. Prince Metternich 
 said of Josephine : " Her mind was not a powerful 
 one, but it was f>f an excelh;nt sort as far as it went. 
 It would be unjust to hold her responsible for the 
 excesses of Napoleon's ambition. Had she Ijeen able 
 she wfjuld doubtless have put a drag on the chariot 
 iji wliich, at the beginning of his career, she helped 
 to place him." 
 
 In 1803 the First Consul and his wife were still 
 living harmfjiiiously, although Bonaparte, in Paris if 
 not at Saint Cloud, was at times unfaithful. At 
 Saint Cloud peace prevailed, and no eye could have 
 
240 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 detected any scandal. At eight in tlie morning the 
 First Consul would get up and betake himself to his 
 study ; he lunched there alone, and while at table, 
 he received artists and actors, — he was very fond of 
 their society, — and then he went back to his work 
 till six in the evening ; then he drove in a barouche 
 with his wife. On their return they dined, and then 
 he would talk more or less, according to his feelings, 
 and then he would go back to his work. Josephine 
 spent the evening playing cards ; between ten and 
 eleven a servant would come in and say, " Madame, 
 the First Consul has gone to bed," then she dismissed 
 her company and went to her room. Everything was 
 smooth at Saint Cloud, but at the Tuileries, in the 
 same year, there were stormy scenes, one of which is 
 told by Madame de Remusat in her Memoirs. 
 
 In 1796 it was Bonaparte who complained of 
 Josephine's indifference; in 1803, after seven years 
 of marriage, it was Josephine aa^io had learned to 
 know all the uneasiness, suspicion, and mental anguish 
 of a woman who sees her husband growing calm and 
 cold. It must be remembered, however, that the 
 First Consul was six years younger than liis wife ; 
 and while her beauty was fading, — he was thirty-four 
 Avhen she was forty, — he was gaining not merely 
 fame, wealth, and power, but also health and beauty. 
 
 The First Consul of 1803 was very unlike the 
 general of the early months of 1796. When he 
 married, Bonaparte was puny, delicate, ailing, penni- 
 less, with no other reputation than that of the 13th 
 
JOSEPHINE IN 1803. 241 
 
 Vendemiaire ; and Josephine's friends thought that 
 she had made a veiy poor match. But in 1803 things 
 had changed very much. Bonaparte had acquired 
 all the ascendancy that can be given by the sover- 
 eign power in the hands of a man of genius. All 
 the fashionable beauties regarded him with enthusi- 
 asm, and thus destroyed poor Josephine's peace of 
 mind, while she was unable to arouse any spark of 
 jealousy in him. Even if she had wished (and she 
 certainly never did) to make him jealous, she could 
 not commit the slightest imprudence. Since she was 
 under continual observation at the Tuileries and at 
 Saint Cloud, she could not repeat her foolish actions 
 of the time of the Directory ; the slightest coquetry, 
 even in words, was forbidden ; and when Bonaparte's 
 brothers were trying to persuade him to take steps 
 towards divorce, she could not, by word or deed, 
 give them the least ground for criticism and con- 
 demnation. Men, in their egotism and vanity, — and 
 even the best of them have selfish and vain points, — 
 become indifferent to women when they are abso- 
 lutely secure from rivals ; and as Josephine's love for 
 Napoleon grew, his for her cooled. And yet this 
 woman, humble, submissive, and complaisant, coquet- 
 tish only with her husband, deserved blame for only 
 one thing; namely, her extravagance, which is cer- 
 tainly a pardonable fault; for by spending largely 
 did she not encourage industry and trade ? 
 
 At heart Napoleon did Josephine justice. He 
 knew that she was useful to him and brought him 
 
242 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 happiness, and this fact served to defend her against 
 the incessant attack and intrigues of her enemies. 
 When he was kind and repentant of his faults, she 
 was happy in the enjoyment of the prosperity of 
 France and of her husband's greatness. 
 
 To sum up, Madame Bonaparte was not lacking 
 in skill. She had to contend against Avomen younger 
 and prettier than herself for the possession of Napo- 
 leon's heart; against the whole Bonaparte family, 
 who were jealous of her influence ; against a multi- 
 tude of people, who made much of her childlessness, 
 continually saying that if Napoleon had no children, 
 there was no hope for the future security of France. 
 Josephine needed much skill and prudence to with- 
 stand for long so many enemies. She was successful 
 in 1804, when she was crowned Empress by her hus- 
 band's hand, and unsuccessful in 1809 ; but even 
 after divorce she preserved her rank and title, and 
 seldom has a repudiated queen been treated with so 
 much respect. 
 
 On the rock of Saint Helena Napoleon often recalled 
 the memory of this companion of his happy years, 
 who had charmed and fascinated his youth. He spoke 
 in praise of her qualities, her attractions, her grace. 
 He said that her unvarying submission, devotion, and 
 absolute complaisance amounted to virtues and at- 
 tested the political skill of her sex. He added that 
 her kindness was a weapon against her enemies, a 
 charm for her friends, and the source of her power 
 over her husband ; that theirs had been a very happy 
 
JOSEPHINE IN 1803. 243 
 
 Dai-by and Joan marriage ; that she had a thorough 
 knowledge of his character; that she was always 
 eager to please him, and he was sure that she would 
 at any time have left a rendezvous with a lover to 
 come to him. This last reflection, with its malice 
 beneath a cloak of friendliness, was the last lingering 
 trace of his old jealousy, and made even him smile. 
 " It was necessary for me," he said again at Saint 
 Helena, " and would have made me happy, not 
 merely from the point of view of politics, but in my 
 domestic life, to have had a son by Josephine. The 
 political result would have been that I should still l)e 
 on the throne ; for the French would have been as 
 devoted to it as they were to the King of Rome, and 
 I should not have set foot in the flowery abyss which 
 was my ruin. Then think of the wisdom of human 
 plans, and dare to call a man happy or unhappy be- 
 fore his death ! " In the remarks of the great captive 
 there is more than sympathy, more than admiration, 
 more than gratitude for the woman of whom he said : 
 " I gained Imttles ; Josephine gained me hearts. . . . 
 She was the most loving and best of women." There 
 is feeling and tenderness in this language ; it is the 
 radiant vision of youth and love that arose before 
 him. The evening twilight recalls the dawn. 
 
IV. 
 
 MADAME DE EEjMTJSAT. 
 
 WE have often quoted Madame de R^musat's 
 judgments of Napoleon and Josephine, and 
 it may be a good moment to bring her before us to 
 judge her in her turn, Avith all the respect that is due 
 to her memory. Clara Elisabeth Jane Gravier de 
 Vergennes, Countess of Remusat, was born January 
 5, 1780 ; her parents were Charles Gravier de Ver- 
 gennes, a councillor in the Parliament of Burgundy, 
 and Adelaide Frances de Bastard. She was the 
 grand-niece of the Count of Vergennes, who was 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs under Louis XVI. Her 
 childliood was embittered by the most tragic inci- 
 dents. When she was fourteen, her father and her 
 grandfather were guillotined, three days before the 
 fall of Robespierre. As the property of those who 
 were executed was confiscated, Clara de Vergennes 
 was reduced to want; but she found a protector in a 
 Provengal nobleman, Augustine Laurent de Remusat, 
 a magistrate at Aix before the Revolution, whom she 
 married early in 1796, when barely sixteen. Her 
 mother had been intimate with the Viscountess of 
 244 
 
MADAME BE BEMUSAT. 245 
 
 Beaiiharnais, then Madame Bonaparte ; and when the 
 question of a court came up, the First Consul and 
 his wife thought of M. and Mme. de Remusat, who 
 became prefect of the palace, and the first lady-in- 
 waiting, respectively, at the beginning of the Con- 
 sulate for life. 
 
 Were they Bonapartists ? without any doubt. The 
 husband would no more have been false to Napoleon 
 than would his wife to Josephine. They both dis- 
 charged their duties with zeal, loyalty, and pleasure. 
 Their position, too, was a very agreeable one : nearly 
 every minute they saw the most famous man of his 
 day, and beheld, as it Avere from an opera-box, a sight 
 which interested the whole world. Madame de Remu- 
 sat occupied a brilliant position which must have been 
 very attractive, especially after the poverty and un- 
 happiness of the Terror ; and when she recalled those 
 days of misery she must have thanked Providence 
 for so comfortable a harbor after such terrible storms. 
 At Saint Cloud and at the Tuileries she found every- 
 thing that could gratify a woman's vanity. She had 
 much influence over Josephine, and through her over 
 NajDoleon, and thus she could be of service to a great 
 many emigres. She was almost the only woman with 
 whom the First Consul liked to talk. He was most 
 kind to her and discussed with her politics, history, 
 literature, giving evidence of his sympathy and esteem 
 which really touched her. She was lively and intel- 
 ligent, and found amusement in everything she saw. 
 Her life was filled with most exalted entertainment. 
 
246 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 No bright, imaginative woman could fail to enjoy 
 the charm of this varied, busy existence, and she was 
 perfectly happy in it. Her son, a minister under 
 Louis Philippe and Thiers, wrote to Sainte-Beuve : 
 " It was not as a last resource, by necessity, weakness, 
 temptation, or as a mere temporary expedient, that 
 my parents gave their adherence to the new regime. 
 They joined their fortunes with it freely and with 
 perfect confidence." In her Memoirs, Madame de 
 E^musat said of the man whom she really worshipped, 
 "We loved and admired him: this confession I am 
 ready to make." 
 
 When, in 1802, she assumed her position in the 
 palace, Madame de Remusat was twenty-two years 
 old. Without being really a beauty, she was very 
 attractive. She had charm, distinction, breeding. 
 Her eyes, black, like her hair, were fine and expres- 
 sive ; her features were regular, though perhaps a 
 little large; her expression benevolent and worthy; 
 in short, she had all the air of a great lady. Her 
 friend, Talleyrand, has thus described her: " Clari 
 [for that is what he used to call her] is not what 
 would be called a beauty, yet every one says that 
 she is agreeable. . . . Her complexion is not bril- 
 liant, but it has this merit, that it looks whiter the 
 higher the light in which it is seen. Is not that like 
 her whole nature, which appears better and more 
 lovable the more it is known ? She has large black 
 eyes ; long lashes lend her face an expression of 
 mingled tenderness and vivacity which is perceptible 
 
MABAME BE BEMUSAT. 247 
 
 even when she is calm and wishes to express nothing ; 
 but these moments are rare. . . . Her hair generally 
 hides a large part of her forehead, which is a pity. 
 Two dimples, which come when she smiles, give a 
 piquancy to her sweet appearance. She is often 
 careless in her di-ess, but she always shows good 
 taste and is very neat. This neatness is part of the 
 system of order and decency from which Clari never 
 varies." 
 
 In the moral sphere Madame de Remusat was cor- 
 rectness itself. Her manners were faultless. She 
 was tactful, decorous, discreet, and thoroughly well- 
 bred ; moreover, she was much better educated than 
 most of the women of the Consular Court. As Tal- 
 lep^and said , " Clari's intelligence is broad and well 
 cultivated ; I know no one who talks better ; when 
 she wishes to appear instructed she gives a mark of 
 confidence and friendship. Clari's husband knows 
 that he has a treasure in her, and he has the good 
 sense to enjoy it." 
 
 Madame de Remusat w^as a devoted and faithful 
 wife, and her husband did not need to be jealous of 
 her feeling for the First Consul ; it was not love, but 
 rather warmly enthusiastic admiration. On his side 
 Napoleon was flattered at being appreciated by a 
 woman Avhose intelligence he so admired. " I remem- 
 ber," she says, " that because he interested me very 
 much when he spoke, and I listened with pleasure, 
 he said that I was an intelligent woman when I had 
 scarcely spoken two conse.uitive words," 
 
248 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 It was only by talking with her that the First 
 Consul gave evidence of his preference for Madame 
 de R^musat; and yet these conversations aroused a 
 certain jealousy, and her reputation once came very 
 near being compromised in spite of her correct con- 
 duct and blameless morals. November 3, 1803, Napo- 
 leon, accompanied by the generals of liis guard, his 
 aides, and M. de Remusat, had gone to the camp 
 of Boulogne, making his headquarters at Pont-de- 
 Briques, a little village distant about a league from 
 that town. M. de Remusat was taken seriously ill 
 almost at the moment of his arrival, and as soon as 
 his wife heard of it, she went to take care of him. 
 She arrived, unsummoned, in the middle of the night, 
 very anxious as to what the First Consul might think 
 of what she had done. Her own words will describe 
 what took place the next day : " When the Consul was 
 up, he sent word for me to come to him ; I was agi- 
 tated and somewhat flustered, as he saw the moment 
 I entered the room. He kissed me at once, and 
 making me sit down, calmed me by his first words : 
 ' I was expecting you. Your presence will cure your 
 husband.' At these words I burst into tears ; he 
 seemed touched, and did his best to soothe me. Then 
 he told me that I must lunch and dine with him 
 every day, adding with a laugh, ^ I must take great 
 care of a woman of your age, thrown among so many 
 soldiers.' " Madame de Remusat obeyed, and during 
 Napoleon's stay at Pont-de-Briques she had the much- 
 sought-for honor of cUning tete-d-fete with liim, and 
 
MADAME DE RJSMUSAT. 249 
 
 of hearing him discuss many interesting questions of 
 politics and literature. 
 
 On the whole, the First Consul shines in his rela- 
 tions with her ; he appears to have been kind to her, 
 affectionate, I might almost say paternal, if he had 
 not been so young, for Bonaparte was but thirty-four 
 when she was twenty-three : he could scarcely be her 
 father. There are, of course, sceptics who smile at 
 the story of a pretty woman who arrives at a camp in 
 the dead of night, and dines every day alone with a 
 man who, besides great natural charm, has all the 
 attraction of glory and power, and the incident is not 
 a common one ; but for ourselves we do not share their 
 incredulity : her account bears all the stamp of accu- 
 racy. Madame de R^musat was doubtless extremely 
 annoyed by the suspicions of which, to her great 
 siu-pri'se, she was the object. " It was the first time," 
 she says, " that I saw myself judged in a way that I 
 did not deserve ; my youtli and all my feelings were 
 shocked by such accusations ; one needs a long and 
 bitter experience to be able to endure the world's 
 injustice, and perhaps one ought to regret the time 
 when they strike so hard and painfully." 
 
 Josephine was for a moment jealous of her, and 
 treated her with less kindness than usual. " I could 
 not keep myself," adds Madame de Remusat, "from 
 asking her, with tears in my eyes, ' What, Madame ! 
 is it I whom you suspect? ' As she was kind and open 
 to every passing emotion, she kissed me and was as 
 open with me as in the past. Yet she did not wholly 
 
250 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 understand me. She was not able to comprehend my 
 righteous wrath, and without troubling herself about 
 the relations of her husband to myself at Boulogne, 
 she was satisfied with knowing that at any rate they 
 could have been of but brief duration." 
 
 Madame de R^musat experienced much annoyance 
 from this trip to the camp ; but even the best of 
 women are not without a tincture of coquetry; and 
 judging from her frequent reference to this incident, 
 one is inclined to think that it was not wholly un- 
 pleasant to her. The idea that it could have been 
 thought possible that Napoleon had really distin- 
 guished her, was not entirely odious to her, and those 
 who read her account will readily understand the 
 feeling which made her say to the Emperor, as M. 
 Charles de R^musat takes pains to tell us : 
 
 " Va, je t'ai trop aime pour ne point te hair." 
 
 This trip to the camp at Boulogne marks the 
 moment of Madame de R^musat's warmest enthusi- 
 asm for Napoleon. She came back to Paris literally 
 enchanted with the great man. "He had greeted 
 me so warmly," she herself says, "he had shown so 
 much interest in my husband's recovery ; in a word, 
 his consideration touched me in my anxiety and 
 trouble, and then the amusements he had devised for 
 me in that dull place, and the petty satisfaction 
 which my vanity drew from his apparent pleasure 
 in my society, — all these things affected me, and in 
 the first few days after my return I was telling 
 
MADAME DE RI^MUSAT. 251 
 
 every one, with all the gratitude one feels at twenty, 
 that his kindness to me had been extreme." 
 
 Gradually this enthusiasm lessened, and' criticism 
 succeeded to admiration. Under the influence of 
 Josephine's sorrows, — for Madame de R^musat re- 
 mained a lady-in-waiting to lier after the divorce, — she 
 lived remote from the splendors of the Empire, in a 
 retreat which was not wholly unlike disgrace. Grad- 
 ually the great disasters dispelled her illusions, and 
 when the final blow came, she forgot the tricolor in 
 her love for the white flag. Even when the Con- 
 sulate and the Empire were most flourishing, there 
 yet lingered in the depths of her soul certain dim 
 memories of Royalism, due to her birth and the first 
 impressions of her childhood. On his return from 
 Elba, Napoleon said to Benjamin Constant : " The 
 nobles served me ; they crowded my anterooms ; 
 there were no places Avhich they did not accept, 
 ask for, solicit. I have had Montmorencys, Noailles, 
 Rohans, Beauvans, Mortemarts. But that is as far 
 as it went. The horse curveted, and was well 
 groomed, but I could feel him trembling." During 
 the Hundred Days, Madame de R^musat sided mth 
 the Bourbons, and her fear of Napoleon's resentment 
 was so great that she lost her head, and threw into 
 the fire the manuscript chary which she had kept 
 faithfully while she was attached to the consular 
 and the imperial court. Those Memoirs would have 
 been the real expression of her thought. What a 
 pity it is that she had not sufficient presence of 
 
252 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 mind to save tliem, — a thing she could easily have 
 done ! 
 
 Under the second Restoration, tlie former Prefect 
 of the Imperial Palace became the Royalist Prefect 
 of the Haute Garonne, and subsequently of the Nord ; 
 and his wife devoted the leisure of life in the prov- 
 inces to literature. At Lille, in 1818, she began to 
 write a novel, called " The Spanish Letters, or the 
 Man of Ambition " ; but there appeared a posthu- 
 mous book of Madame de Stael's, " Thoughts on the 
 French Revolution," which made so deep an impres- 
 sion on her that she wrote, May 27, to the son : " A 
 new whim has seized me. You know that I wake up 
 every morning at six, and write until half-past nine. 
 Well, I was at work, with all the manuscript of my 
 novel about me, but some of Madame de Stael's chap- 
 ters kept running through my head. Suddenly, I 
 threw my story away, took some clean paper, bitten 
 by the necessity of writing something about Bona- 
 parte. ... Facts and words thronged upon me, and 
 to-day and yesterday I have written twenty pages; 
 it has moved me very, much." 
 
 It is the Memoirs, Avritten thus, in 1818, by Madame 
 de Remusat, that have been published, with an inter- 
 esting preface by her grandson. In giving the book 
 to the world, M. Paul de Remusat has not merely 
 complied with his father's wishes ; he has done good 
 service to letters and to history. The work has called 
 forth numerous discussions ; but discussion only hel]3S 
 
MADAME BE B EMUS AT. 253 
 
 a book and insures its success. Every original book 
 needs to be subjected to criticism. 
 
 To judge Madame de Remusat's Memoirs impar- 
 tially, account must be taken of the successive influ- 
 ences to which she was exposed, and it must be borne 
 in mind that her changes of opinion were those of the 
 society and the time in which she lived. France, with 
 its enthusiasms and its disenchantments, is like a 
 woman. At first the country adored Napoleon most 
 ecstatically ; then, that feeling passing away, she 
 hated him, though for but a moment, and after the 
 first effervescence was over, the nation tenderly re- 
 turned to liim Avho had been its idol. Written earlier, 
 or written later, Madame de Remusat's Memoirs would 
 not have been what they now are. Written earlier, 
 they would have borne marks of the Imperial period ; 
 and later, they would probably show traces of the 
 influence of the Liberals at the time of the Restora- 
 tion, when they were all full of Napoleon's glory ; and 
 possibly Madame de R^musat would have spoken of 
 the Emperor as did her son, Louis Philippe's eminent 
 minister. For we must not forget that it was Charles 
 de Remusat who uttered these words from the tribune 
 of the Chamber of Deputies : " He was our Emperor 
 and King, and thus is entitled to be buried at Saint 
 Denis ; but Napoleon does not require the ordinary 
 burial of kings ; he should still reign and command 
 in the enclosure where shall rest the country's soldiers, 
 and whence those who are called on to defend it shall 
 draw fresh inspiration. His sword shall be laid upon 
 
254 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 his tomb. Art shall construct beneath the dome in 
 the middle of the temple, consecrated by religion to 
 the God of armies, a tomb worthy, if jjossible, of the 
 name which is to be placed there. This monument 
 ought to have a simple beauty, grandiose form, and 
 that aspect of absolute solidity which seems to defy 
 the effect of time. Napoleon needs a monument as 
 lasting as his fame." In these words M. Charles de 
 Remusat did not think that he was unfaithful to his 
 Liberalism, and the Minister of the government of 
 July ended his discourse with these words : " It be- 
 longed to the Monarchy of 1830, which was the first 
 to rally all the forces and to conciliate all the wishes 
 of the French Revolution, to build and to honor the 
 statue and the tomb of a popular hero ; for there is 
 one thing, and one thing only, which need dread no 
 comparison with glory, and that is liberty." 
 
 Madame de R^musat's life was too short ; she died 
 suddenly, aged forty-one, in the night of December 10, 
 1821, the year of Napoleon's death. The misfortunes 
 which had swept over France were too recent. Her 
 patriotic spirit had been sorely distressed by the 
 invasion, and it was with a feeling of bitterness which 
 we can readily understand that like many of her con- 
 temporaries she asked herself what was the final result 
 of so many efforts, so much heroism, so many sacri- 
 fices, and so much bloodshed. Let us add, that she 
 was sincere. If she had published her jNIemoirs dur- 
 ing her lifetime to flatter the Restoration and to 
 secure her husband's advancement, she would have 
 
MADAME BE BEMUSAT. 255 
 
 clone a disgraceful thing, something of which she 
 was incapable. Like Saint-Simon, she wrote for no 
 personal interest, but to make up for long restraint, 
 and to say fi-eely what she believed to be the truth. 
 Wlien her Memoirs appeared, all the persons were 
 dead; the passions of the time had chsappeared to 
 give place to the impartial judgment of history, and 
 although Madame de Remusat had been in attendance 
 on Napoleon and Josephine, her testimony will be 
 listened to, if not accepted. 
 
 While there may be room for reserve as to the 
 historical value of the book, its literary value is 
 incontestable. It is a living work, one that has been 
 lived, as people say nowadays. Madame de Remusat 
 always expresses herself like a woman of intelligence 
 and like a lady. Her style is sober and incisive ; she 
 had a keen observation, and in a few strokes she made 
 admirable sketches. Those who blame her harsh 
 judgment of Napoleon should remember that towards 
 the end of her life she took a gentler view of the 
 great man, and that in 1821 she held very different 
 views from those she had held in 1815 and 1818. 
 As her son says : " Her letters will show how im- 
 portant a place Napoleon had kept in her thoughts, 
 how much his memory moved her, and what pain 
 and grief she felt in hearing of his unhappy exile to 
 Saint Helena. When, in the summer of 1821, she 
 heard of his death, I saw her burst into tears, and 
 she never named him without evident sadness." 
 
 Already she was indignant with certain instances 
 
256 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 of apostasy, and angry at the attitude of those who 
 scornfully called the great Emperor Bonaparte, after 
 they had been his flatterers and courtiers. One even- 
 ing there was given at the Theatre Fran9ais an adap- 
 tation of Schiller's " Mary Stuart," and there took 
 place an incident thus described by M. Charles de 
 Remusat: "In one scene Leicester refuses to listen 
 to a young man who, counting on his secret feel- 
 ings, proposes to him a way of saving the Queen of 
 Scotland, and pretends not to know him. Talma 
 gave admirably the haughty cowardice of the cour- 
 tier, who disavows his own love from fear of being 
 compromised, and refuses to listen to the young man 
 with overwhelming insolence : ' What do you want 
 of me ? I know you not.' The act came to an end, 
 and every one in our box was full of admiration for 
 the scene, and my mother, who was much moved, 
 had just said, in Avords to this effect, ' That's the way 
 it was ; I have seen it,' when there suddenly appeared 
 at the door of the box M. de B., to whom certainly 
 no particular application could be made, but who had 
 been a chamberlain of the Emperor. My mother 
 could not restrain herself. She said to Madame de 
 Catellan, 'If you knew' — and burst into tears." 
 Noble and generous tears, Avliich efface a great deal. 
 
 Doubtless Madame de Remusat, when she was 
 writing her Memoirs, had no idea of the noise they 
 would make. Politics had some share in their suc- 
 cess, and the fame of the book has grown from the 
 discussion of which it was the cause or the pretext. 
 
MADAME DE R^MUSAT. 257 
 
 Certain critics have taken advantage of it to utter 
 against Napoleon the usual denunciations ; as, for 
 example, M. John Lemoinne, speaking for humanity^ 
 has thundered against war and against the mighty 
 victor. Speaking of Napoleon, and the great con- 
 querors who resemble him, he says eloquently : " The 
 most humiliating, the most revolting, the most hope- 
 less thing, is not seeing them, like the Indian chariot, 
 impassively crushing the wretches who, in their idol- 
 atry, fling themselves beneath tlie wheels, destroying 
 bodies and soul, mind and matter, grain, trees, fruit, 
 the product of toil, the bodies of children, mothers' 
 hearts, every law, every liberty, everything which 
 lived and only asked to live ; no, it is seeing the 
 moral degradation, the dishonoring need of servitude, 
 which urge the human horde to worship the crimes 
 of which it is the victim, to adore the hands which 
 smite it, to kiss the feet which crush it." 
 
 On the other hand, another critic whose original tal- 
 ent, lively spirit, and sparkling style continually grew 
 younger. Count Armand de Pontmartin, although a 
 Legitimist, has undertaken the defence of Napoleon 
 against Madame de Rdmusat, as follows : " Can it be 
 said that Madame de Remusat's Memoirs is a prose ver- 
 sion of the ' Chatiments ' ? Frankly, I think not. The 
 success of the book is great, but it is due to curiosity, 
 not to love of scandal ; it comes from interest in Bon- 
 aparte, who is prominent throughout; although re- 
 duced in size, he overruns the canvas." And that is 
 true; the excitement which the book produced in 
 
258 THE WIFE OF THE FIB8T CONSUL. 
 
 Europe, and possibly still more in America, proves 
 the ardent interest in everything relating to the 
 strange and colossal figure of Napoleon. And was 
 Madame de R^musat justified in speaking ill of the 
 Emperor who had been so kind and affectionate to 
 her, to whom also she owed her fame with posterity? 
 for had it not been for him, who would now remember 
 her? Is she not like an immortal flower growing in 
 the shade of a great oak? 
 
 But let us listen to M. de Pontmartin: "Madame 
 de R^musat wished to take from this man, on whom 
 have been wasted so many verses, so many plirases, 
 his state mantle, his legendary halo, liis epical and 
 magic fame. . . . But he remains still Napoleon 
 Bonaparte ; that is to say, a man so above and beyond 
 human proportions that if his prodigious ability is 
 denied, he can be explained only as the product of 
 magic or of a supernatural intervention." And the 
 Legitimist critic, doubtless annoyed at some sentences 
 of M. Paul de Remusat unfavorable to the Restora- 
 tion, concludes thus : " There is only one way of look- 
 ing at Napoleon, from which it is possible to disparage 
 him, and that is from the position of the Royalists. 
 If you do not grant me that, I shall for a moment 
 forget my cockade and my flag to say : The lowering 
 of great men and the exaltation of small ones are 
 what is done by perishing nations, which do not know 
 how to perish properly." 
 
 But we must not speak of France as perishing, for 
 it is still full of life. The country has not yet come 
 
MADAME BE R^MUSAT. 259 
 
 to an end of its strength or its wealth, of its liberty 
 or its glory. Bnt may it be wise enough to abstain 
 from disparaging the great men and the great events 
 to which it owes its fame ! Let it never condemn its 
 own history more harshly than do foreigners ! May 
 it be saved from the folly and madness of destroying 
 its idols ! Let it never on any account disavow its 
 three imperishable legends, those of Royalty, Impe- 
 rialism, and Republicanism. No, a woman's pretty 
 claws cannot, with all her wit, even scratch the 
 bronze of the Column Vendome. Carthage con- 
 demned itself the day it disowned Hannibal. Zama 
 ouolit not to make us forget Cannae. Waterloo does 
 not destroy Austerlitz. 
 
 Certainly there would l)e justification if Napoleon 
 were complained of by those who with such un- 
 wearying persistence had suffered so much, had 
 fought so bravely for him, and without hope of gain, 
 without a murmur, in the sands of Egypt or in the 
 snows of Russia; had followed him tirelessly through 
 all liis battles, from Areola and the Pyramids to 
 Moscow, Leipsic, and Waterloo, and who, poor, crip- 
 pled, scarred, found refuge, after so many combats, 
 only under a cottage roof ! Well, those men, far 
 from cursing their leader, always worshipped him, 
 victorious or beaten, and always were faithful to him 
 with the fervor of B^ranger's two grenadiers. If one 
 wislied to denounce the general, it would be the ice- 
 cold hand of the veterans, of the dead, that would 
 close the insulter's mouth. Let us not revile mili- 
 
260 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 taiy glory, for that would be a symptom of hopeless 
 decadence ; and let us remember that the more gold 
 a nation possesses, the greater is its need of arms to 
 guard its wealth. Our country's greatness cost it 
 too many efforts, too many sacrifices, too much blood, 
 for it to be willing to renounce its heroic inheritance- 
 Let us, who are the sons of soldiers, not forget our 
 fathers, or fold our glorious banners ! 
 
V. 
 
 THE TRIP TO BELGIUM. 
 
 /^ OING back to 1803, we find France triumphant. 
 
 VlT' Piedmont liad just been annexed to its terri- 
 tory, which extends from the ocean to the Rhine, 
 from the Gulf of Genoa to the mouth of the Schehlt. 
 Italy, Switzerland, Holland, seem to be only a line 
 of sentinels, ready to second the power of the Consu- 
 lar Republic. The English, who find it perfectly 
 natural to have taken nearly all the French colonies, 
 and to rule over every sea, are unwilling to admit 
 that France can have a preponderating influence upon 
 the continent. They looked with alarm on Napoleon's 
 glory and the prosperity of the country. Sheridan 
 said in the House of Commons : " Look at the map of 
 Europe now, and see nothing but France. . . . Russia, 
 if not in Napoleon's power, is, at least, in his influ- 
 ence ; Prussia is at his beck ; Italy is his vassal ; 
 Holland, in his grasp ; Spain, at his nod ; Turkey, in 
 his toils ; Portugal, at his feet. What is there left 
 for Bonaparte to conquer, except England? But a 
 country as great as England cannot submit to defeat." 
 In fact, the treaty of Amiens produced onl}^ a truce, 
 
 261 
 
262 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 au experimental peace, as it was called in England. 
 The English, who were always hostile and always 
 jealous, remembered Pitt's words : " No regular gov- 
 ernment must be established in France. We must 
 fight with France to the end." Hence, in spite of 
 the formal stipulations of the treaty, they refused 
 to evacuate Malta. The First Consul said to the 
 English ambassador, Lord Whitworth: "I shall never 
 yield on this point. I had rather see you in posses- 
 sion of the Faubourg Saint Antoine than of Malta. 
 . . . Every day my irritation with England increases, 
 because every puff of wind that comes from there 
 carries only animosity and hate towards me. ... I 
 am stronger than you on land ; rule the seas. If we 
 can come to an understanding, we shall rule the 
 world." England remained obstinate. Napoleon did 
 the same. A renewal of the conflict became inev- 
 itable. 
 
 March 14, 1803, a few days before the peace was 
 terminated, the Diplomatic Body met as usual at the 
 Tuileries, and was awaiting in Madame Bonaparte's 
 drawing-room the arrival of the First Consul and his 
 wife. Meanwhile Josephine was finishing her dress- 
 ing in her own room, and Napoleon was sitting on 
 the floor by her side, playing with the son of Louis 
 Bonaparte an4 Hortense, a baby five months old. 
 The First Consul seemed in the best humor. Madame 
 de Remusat spoke to him about it, adding that proba- 
 bly the despatches to be forwarded after the audience 
 would breathe nothing but peace and concord. Soon 
 
THE TlilP TO BELGIUM. 263 
 
 word is brought that the Diplomatic Body is assem- 
 bled. Then Napoleon's face changed. " Come, 
 ladies ! " and pale, his face di-awn with the anger which 
 is soon to break forth like a terrible thunder-storm, he 
 liastily entered the drawing-room, and, without salut- 
 ing any one, walked straight up to the English am- 
 bassador. His lips were trembling, his eyes flashing. 
 " So you have determined on war ? " he said to Lord 
 Whit worth. " We have already had ten years of it ; 
 you want ten years more of it, and you force me to 
 it."" Then turning to the ambassadors of Spain and 
 of Russia, " If they are the first to draw the sword, I 
 shall be the last to sheathe it ; they liave no respect 
 for treaties ; henceforward Ave must cover them with 
 black crape." Tlie First Consul then left the Eng- 
 lish ambassador, but, growing a little calmer, he re- 
 turned to him after a few seconds, and spoke to him 
 politely on purely personal matters. But his wrath, 
 which was allayed only for a moment, broke out again 
 with more violence. " What is the meaning of those 
 armamenfe ? Against whom are these precautionary 
 measures ? I have not a single armed ship of the line 
 in the ports of France. But if you arm, I shall arm, 
 too. You may, perhaps, destroy France; but as to 
 intimidating it, never ! " At that moment Napoleon 
 seemed overwhelmed with anger. His face was 
 ablaze. Josephine and Madame de Remusat looked 
 at one another without a word. 
 
 Tlie die Avas cast. The English ambassador de- 
 manded his passports and left Paris the night of May 
 
264 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 12. It became necessary for the First Consul to pre- 
 pare for the great struggle. To strike the imagina- 
 tion of the people, it was thought desirable that he 
 should make a triumphal appearance in Belgium, 
 which was the object of much jealous yearning, and 
 in Antwerp, which was like a loaded pistol aimed at 
 the heart of England. To arouse popular enthusiasm 
 and to S'trengthen public confidence, Bonaparte began 
 by asking officially the prayers of the archbishops and 
 bishops. Had he not said to Bourrienne at the time 
 of the Concordat, " You will see how much good I 
 shall get from the priests " ? The prelates in their 
 charges to the faithful, rivalled one another in patri- 
 otism and in devotion to the Ruler of the State. "Be 
 of good heart, my very dear brother," wrote the Arch- 
 bishop of Paris, " the Giver of victory always guides 
 our armies ; they have scarcely broken camp, and 
 already we are masters of the continental possessions 
 of our rival. But the conqueror of Europe knows 
 well that fortune of arms is fickle, and that our only 
 confidence is in conciliating the God of battles. He 
 wishes us to ask for prayers to secure the blessing of 
 Heaven upon our just undertakings. The love that 
 you have, my very dear brothers, for your country, 
 the gratitude that you owe to a gentle, beneficent, 
 and paternal government, are a sure guarantee of the 
 zeal with which you will second our religious senti- 
 ments." Among other charges we will quote from 
 that of the Archbishop of Rouen : " Let us pray 
 God, that this man of his right hand, this man who 
 
THE TlilP TO BELGIUM. 265 
 
 by his command has done so much for the restoration 
 of his worship, and who proposes to do still more, 
 shall continue to be like Cyrus, the Christ of Provi- 
 dence, that it may watch over his life and cover him 
 with its wings ; that it may protect his person from 
 the dangers to which the bold are exposed in battle, 
 and from the envy and calumny which pursue the 
 deserving." 
 
 The clergy kindled enthusiasm. The First Consul 
 started for Belgium with all the glory of a favorite 
 son of the Church. In this journey, which was a 
 long triumphal march, all the monarchical ceremonies 
 reappeared: the mayors brought to him the keys of 
 the cities ; the priests sang the Te Deum ; young 
 girls, clad in white, presented him with bouquets ; 
 rich young men formed guards of honor and brilliant 
 cavalry escorts ; there was an abundance of military 
 music ; church-bells were rung at full peal, drums 
 were beaten; every^vhere he was warmly greeted; 
 and the people were drawn by curiosity, as much as 
 by admiration and gratitude, to crowd about the hero 
 of the Pyramids and of Marengo. Everywhere there 
 were triumphal arches and illuminations ; and Bona- 
 parte, who was generally very impatient, did not tire 
 of this ceremonial. There is one fragrance that the 
 rulers of empires, kingdoms, and republics always 
 breathe without fatigue : it is that of incense. Jose- 
 phine accompanied him, with a suite of ladies, like a 
 queen ; she followed her husband from town to town. 
 lie was anxious to have his gracious and sympathetic 
 
266 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 wife with liim to complete his list of fascinations. 
 He withdrew the crown-diamonds from the jilace 
 where they were stored, and insisted on her wearing 
 these precious jewels wliich formerly belonged to the 
 Queens. 
 
 They left Saint Cloud June 24, 1803 ; a stop was 
 made at Compiegne ; and on the 26th they reached 
 Amiens, where Napoleon was welcomed by a crowd 
 of more than thirty tliousand persons. The most 
 ardent wanted to unharness the horses and drag his 
 carriage. The ovation was most enthusiastic. Jose- 
 phine wept for jo}', and even Bonaparte's eyes moist- 
 ened. The priest of a parish of Abbeville said to 
 him, "Religion, as well as France, owes everything 
 to you ; we owe everything that we ai-e to you ; I 
 owe to you all that T am.'' There was an old custom 
 that whenever a King of France lodged at Amiens, 
 the city should present him with four swans, and 
 this custom was revived in honor of the First Consul, 
 who ordered the swans sent to Paris to be })laeed in 
 one of the basins of the Tuileries gardens, in order 
 to show that he was regarded as a sovereign. 
 
 In leaving Amiens by the Calais gate, Bonaparte 
 read the inscription, '' lload to England." From 
 there he went to Boulogne, to Dunkirk, and thence 
 to Lille, Avhere he arrived July 6. The greater part 
 of the inhabitants of Douai, Valenciennes, Cambrai, 
 and all tlie adjacent villages, had assembled on foot, 
 on horseback, in carriages and chariots. Tlie mayor 
 of Lille, in presenting the First Consul with the keys 
 
THE TRIP TO BELGIUM. 267 
 
 of the city, said, " If the inhabitants were fortunate 
 enough to preserve them from every attack of a hos- 
 tile army, they are proud to offer tliem without a 
 stain to you to-day." Tlie municipality gave him 
 a grand banquet in the theatre, and Avlien he entered 
 he was greeted with the popular song, — 
 
 " Where is one happier tlian in the bosom of one's family ? " 
 
 Josephine wrote, July 9, to her daughter Hortense : 
 " I have been busy receiving compliments ever since 
 I left Paris. You know me, and you ma}^ judge for 
 yourself whether I should not prefer a quieter life. 
 Fortunately the society of my ladies consoles me for 
 the noisy life I lead. I receive every morning, and 
 often every evening, .and then I have to go to a ball. 
 This I should enjoy if you could be with me, or I 
 could see you amusing yourself. What I miss more 
 than anything is my dear Hortense and my little 
 grandson, whom I love almost as much as I do his 
 mother." 
 
 From Lille they went to Belgium, the country to 
 which, and with reason, Napoleon attached so much 
 importance. At the signing of the treaty of Amiens, 
 he had said to a Belgian delegation : " The treaty of 
 Campo-Formio had already defined Belgium's posi- 
 tion. Since then our armies have known reverses. 
 It was thought that the Republic might grow weak 
 and yield in consequence of its misfortunes, but this 
 was a great error. Belgium makes part of France, 
 like its oldest province, like all the territories ac- 
 
268 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 quired by formal treaty, like Brittany and Burgundy. 
 . . . Were the enemy in the Faubourg Saint 
 Antoine, the French government ought never to 
 abandon its rights." 
 
 On his arrival at Ostend, in the evening of July 9, 
 the First Consul found the streets illuminated and 
 decked with flags. On the 13th he was at Bruges. 
 On the bridge of Molin there was an imitation of the 
 bridge of Areola. Bonaparte was represented in a 
 general's uniform, with a flag in his hand, among 
 life-size figures of French and Austrian soldiers. It 
 was all somewhat grotesque, although a tolerably 
 accurate reproduction of the celebrated battle, and it 
 did not fail to amuse the First Consul ; but he saw 
 the kind intentions of the citizens of Bruges, and 
 thanked them for recalling memories which were 
 dear to him. 
 
 At Ghent, where he arrived July 14, the prefect 
 of the Department said to Josephine : " You, whose 
 tender affection is for the First Consul's happiness 
 what the admiration of his century is for his glory, 
 you we beg to accept our respects. We know, ma- 
 dame, how you rule every heart by your kindness. 
 Since this quality is adorned by every grace of mind 
 and talent, it is all-powerful ; deign then to believe, 
 madame, that here all are submissive to your laws." 
 Nevertheless, the reception on the part of the popu- 
 lace was a little less enthusiastic than that of other 
 places. Bonaparte noticed this, and that evening he 
 said to Josephine , " The people here are devout, and 
 
THE TltlP TO BELGIUM. 269 
 
 under the influence of the priests ; to-morrow we must 
 make a long visit to the church, win the clergy by 
 some device, and so we shall regain ground." lu 
 fact, he heard mass with all the air of profound devo- 
 tion, addressed some particularly amiable words to 
 the bishop, and from that moment enthusiasm was at 
 its height, and the First Consul and his wife were 
 cheered at a ball given them by the city. The next 
 day there was a grand entertainment on the parade, 
 where a sort of a play was acted, consisting of many 
 allegories. The rivers of Belgium were represented 
 as making an alliance with the Seine and, under the 
 protection of the god of Commerce, crushing the 
 pride of the Thames. 
 
 July 18, they arrived at Antwerp, whence Davoust 
 wrote to his wife : " We are here in a very pretty 
 city which needs only a few years of peace to become 
 one of the first of Europe. The inhabitants received 
 the First Consul as if they had been French for a 
 century. This is more surprising because they have 
 never given a reception to any of their sovereigns. 
 When Joseph II. came to see them, the windows 
 were kept closed, and there was no one in the streets." 
 On this occasion, however, the population of Antwerp 
 was wild with enthusiasm. There was a curious pro- 
 cession in which a huge giant was carried through 
 the streets, a ceremony only known on very great 
 occasions, and one which had not been repeated since 
 1767. The mayor offered the First Consul, in the 
 name of the city, six magnificeut bay horses. Bon- 
 
270 THE WIFE OF TUE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 aparte, in return, presented this official with a scarf 
 of honor, a distinction previously accorded to but 
 two mayors, those of Lyons and of Rouen. Bona- 
 parte was incessantly thinking of Antwerp as the 
 cit}^ where he hoped to build a navy that should 
 always rule between the Scheldt and the Thames. 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine stopped for a few hours 
 at Mechlin, on their way from Antwerp to Brussels. 
 They met there the Archbishop, ]Monsignor de Roque- 
 laure, a chgnitary of the old regime, formerly Bishop 
 of Senlis, under Louis XVL The kindly and witty 
 prelate said to Josephine : " " Madame, after being 
 united to the First Consul by the sacred bonds of 
 a holy alliance, you now find yourself suiTOunded by 
 his glory. Tliis situation adds to the charms of your 
 intelligence, to the sweetness of your character, and 
 the fascinations of your compan3% Continue, madame, 
 to exercise those amiable qualities which you have 
 received from the Author of every perfect gift ; they 
 will be for your husband an agreealile relaxation from 
 the immense and painful tasks to which he devotes 
 himself every day out of love for his country. If our 
 prayers and our vows determine our mutual destinies, 
 you will both be happy, and your happiness Avill secure 
 ours." Bourrienne noticed the combination of religion 
 and gallantry in this short addi-ess. " Was there not," 
 he adds, " a slight deviation from ecclesiastic propri- 
 ety in speaking as he did of sacred bonds and a holy 
 alliance, when it was a matter of common notoriety 
 that these bonds and this alliance existed only on 
 
THE TRIP TO BELGIUM. 271 
 
 tlie municipal records ? Or did the Archbishop have 
 recourse to one of those formulas which casuists 
 call, I believe, pious frauds, in order to induce the pair 
 to do what he congratulated them on having done ? " 
 
 Josephine played admirably her part as sovereign, 
 for she deserved no other name when she was wearing 
 the cro^vn-jewels. She was happy, and thoroughly 
 enjoyed her undeniable success. The people who 
 showed her so much sympathy were sincere ; then 
 there was no artificiality in the sentiments she in- 
 spired; they were the reward of her charm, her grace, 
 her sweetness, her kindness, her amiability, and her 
 bounty. Her face, her smile, her voice, attracted 
 every one. Her bearing and words were modest and 
 amiable, with no trace of haughtiness. Rich and poor, 
 nobles and plebeians, paid equal homage to the woman 
 who possessed so much tact and heart, whom every 
 one knew to be generous, obliging, charitable, and 
 who excited no eirvj by her unexpected good fortune. 
 It seemed as if she had been born to the purple. She 
 might have served as a model to more than one prin- 
 cess whose ancestors for many years had been crowned 
 heads. 
 
 The stay at Brussels was the culmination of the 
 success of this journey. When they reached the 
 boundaries of the department of the Dyle, in which 
 the capital of Belgium is situated. Napoleon and 
 Josephine saw an image syml^olizing the river, in the 
 form of a colossal statue seated by an urn. On the 
 pedestal were these words : " I give my name to 
 
272 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the department ; you, yours to your century." At a 
 distance of two leagues from Brussels, the First Con- 
 sul was met by an army corps of twelve thousand 
 men from the Belgian fortresses, and a guard of 
 honor, consisting of five hundred mounted men, in a 
 red uniform, the flower of the young men of Brussels, 
 under the command of the son of the Prince of Ligne. 
 As soon as Bonaparte saw the troops, he descended 
 from his carriage, got on horseback, and placed him- 
 self at their head. It was as a general, rather than as 
 a civil ruler, that he wanted to enter Brussels. At 
 the end of the AUee Verte a triumphal arch had 
 been erected in his honor, after the model of the 
 arch of Titus in Rome. On each side was an amphi- 
 theatre, covered with carpets, where were seated 
 a number of women richly dressed. Cries of " Long 
 live Bonaparte I Long live the great man ! " re- 
 sounded from all quarters. Cannons were fired as 
 the First Consul passed under the triumphal arch. 
 Before the cathedral of Saint Gudule he was greeted 
 by the clergy, who, in their robes, with a cross in 
 front of them, were awaiting him on the steps at the 
 entrance. All the bells and chimes were rung. Jose- 
 phine made her way, in a carriage presented by the 
 city, through a rain of flowers. The weather was 
 perfect, and every face was radiant with joy. Besides 
 the people of Brussels there were more than thirty 
 thousand strangers who had come from the Rhenish 
 Provinces and Holland to see the great man and his 
 charming wife. Their stay at Brussels was one long 
 
THE TRIP TO BELGIUM. 273 
 
 series of ovations. Every evening the crowded streets 
 were illuminated. 
 
 Announcement was made that Bonaparte and Jo- 
 sephine were to be present on Sunday at Saint Gu- 
 dule to hear mass, with music, which was celebrated 
 with extraordinary pomp. It was decided that the 
 First Consul should be met at the entrance by the 
 clergy with the cross, and that he should be led in a 
 procession beneath the canopy, to the high altar. 
 He was unwilling that Josepliine should share this 
 honor, and ordered her to take a place in a tribune 
 with the Second Consul. 
 
 Mass was to be said at noon. The clergy had 
 assembled at the entrance, awaiting Bonaparte's arri- 
 val, and contrary to his usual habit he was a few 
 minutes late. They began to be uneasy, when sud- 
 denly he was seen entering by a side door ; he came 
 in alone, and took his place on the throne prepared 
 for him near the high altar. The astonished priests 
 hastened back to the choir, and the service began. 
 Why had Napoleon thus surprised them ? Because 
 he had heard that on a similar occasion Charles V. 
 had entered the cathedral by that little door which 
 had since been called the door of Charles V. He 
 wanted to do what the great Emperor had done. 
 
 There was great enthusiasm among the populace 
 when the hero of so many battles reviewed the troops 
 and spoke with his old comrades of Egypt and Italy. 
 At Brussels he held his court like a king. He re- 
 ceived Cardinal Caprara, whose presence made a 
 
274 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 most favorable impression on the Belgians, who are 
 devout Catholics. He was surrounded by ministers, 
 members of the Diplomatic Body, and a number of 
 generals. No Emperor of Germany ever displayed 
 greater magnificence. 
 
 Napoleon and Josephine visited Liege and Maes- 
 tricht after leaving Brussels, then they returned to 
 the old limits of France by Mezieres and Sedan, and 
 reached Saint Cloud again August 12, after an absence 
 of forty-eight days, during which time they had visited 
 seventeen departments and eighty towns. General de 
 S^gur speaks thus in his Memoirs of this trium- 
 phal journey : " How often have we seen Napoleon's 
 interlocutors surprised by his perspicacity, which was 
 so keen and penetrating that it seemed almost super- 
 human! And how proud we were at having been 
 picked out by him, to seem to be in liis confidence, 
 to be at times his spokesmen, to be in the service of 
 a man of such great and universal genius ! Those 
 who left him, to give way to others, were loud in 
 their admiration and warm in their gratitude, as we 
 often saw when, after his departure, his orders showed 
 that everything was to be embellished, improved, per- 
 fected ! " The First Consul's return to Saint Cloud 
 was the signal for fresh congratulations, new ad- 
 dresses, which proved that the art of flattery was 
 making progress from day to day. Louis XIV. him- 
 self never received more adulation; whatever the 
 form of government, even under a Republic, France 
 is a country that needs idols. 
 
THE TRIP TO BELGIUM. 275 
 
 But consider the nothingness of human gioiy ! On 
 his triumphal march to Brussels, Napoleon cUd not 
 dream that near the great Belgian capital there was 
 a little obsciu'e village called Waterloo ; on his way 
 back through Sedan, he little suspected what was to 
 take place within the walls of that town sixty-seven 
 years later. If it were granted to us to know the 
 future, what man could have a moment of pride or 
 even of vanity, even if he called himself Alexander, 
 Csesar, Charlemagne, or Napoleon? Power, wealth, 
 glory, all are but trinkets. They are but the rattles 
 with which fickle Fortune plays for a moment and 
 then breaks in wantomiess. 
 
VI. 
 
 THE PRINCESS BOEGHESE. 
 
 AFTER the First Consul's journey through Bel- 
 gium, Saint Cloud acquired all the air of an 
 imperial or royal residence. There was a renewal 
 of the etiquette and the usages of the old regime. 
 When Madame Bonaparte received an official depu- 
 tation, she arose and listened, standing, to the Presi- 
 dent's remarks, thanked him for the sentiments he 
 had expressed, then sat down without inviting her 
 visitors to do the same, and after a few minutes of 
 unimportant conversation stood up again, and dis- 
 missed her courtiers. Boots, trousers, sabres, disap- 
 peared, and silk stockings, buckled shoes, dress- 
 swords, hats carried under the arm, and lace ruffles, 
 took their place. In respect to headdress there was 
 a question whether the fashion of Louis XV. or that 
 of Louis XVI. should be revived ; the old wig-makers 
 were at swords' points with the new. Every morning 
 Bonaparte's head was an object of great interest ; if 
 he was powdered, every one had to imitate him. 
 
 In this monarchical, rather than Republican, circle, 
 the official presentation of Pauline Bonaparte, with 
 276 
 
THE PRINCESS BORGHESE. 277 
 
 lier new title of the Princess Borghese, produced a 
 sensation that was the delight of every Dangeau of 
 the time. Napoleon's sisters were treated like prin- 
 cesses of the blood. Caroline, whose huslxxnd, Gen- 
 eral Murat, held the important post of governor of 
 Paris, already displayed a boundless ambition and 
 great family pride. Elisa Bacciochi, who was ahvays 
 suiTounded by a little court of men of letters, of 
 whom Fontanes Avas the most devoted, desired a repu- 
 tation as a wit, as a female Maecenas, and played in 
 tragedy with her brother Lucien, who fancied himself 
 a second Talma. As for Pauline, she wished to wield 
 only one sceptre, and that sceptre no one could deny 
 her ; it was that of beauty. 
 
 Pauline Bonaparte was born at Ajaccio, October 20, 
 1780. During the first Italian campaign she had 
 married one of the bravest and most brilliant of her 
 brother's comrades in arms. General Leclerc, who, 
 although born in 1772, had succeeded in acquiring a 
 reputation, in spite of his youth. Leclerc received a 
 command in the expeditionary corps which made the 
 perilous campaign of Saint Domingo, and the First 
 Consul, being un-willing that so pretty a woman as 
 Pauline should stay in Paris alone, ordered her to 
 follow her husband. If we may believe Madame 
 Junot (the Duchess of Abrantes), the beautiful 
 Madame Leclerc was in despair at the thought of 
 leaving France. " O Laurette," she said, throAving 
 herself into her friend's arms, " how fortunate you 
 are ! You are going to stay in Paris, and heavens, 
 
278 THE WIFE OF TUE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 what a tedious life I shall have ! How could my 
 brother be so hard and cruel as to exile me to the 
 society of savages and serpents ? And then, I am ill ; 
 I shall die before I get there ! " Madame Junot, see- 
 ing her in tears, and fearful of the result, consoled 
 her with toys and finery, like a child. " Pauline, 
 you Avill be a queen there ; Pauline, you will go 
 everywhere in a palanquin ; you will always have a 
 black woman to wait on you, and you will walk 
 under orange-trees in blossom. How pretty you will 
 look in a Creole dress ! " As Madame Junot went 
 on, Pauline's sobbing lessened. " And so you think, 
 Laurette, that I shall look pretty, look prettier than I 
 do now, with a turban like a Creole, a short waist, 
 and a skirt of striped muslin?" Madame Leclerc 
 rang for her maid, and had a fine collection of turbans 
 brought, which had just come from India. Madame 
 Junot picked out the most brilliant, and placed it 
 becomingly on Pauline's graceful head. " Laurette, 
 you know how much I love you, but you preferred 
 Caroline to me ; well, we shall see if you don't repent 
 your choice. Now, I am going to give you a proof 
 of how much I love you. You must come to Saint 
 Domingo ; you sliall be the first after me. I shall be 
 queen, as you said just now, and you shall be vice- 
 queen. I am going to speak to my brother about it. 
 . . . We will give balls, and we will have j)icnics 
 among those beautiful mountains. Junot shall be 
 commander of the capital, — what is its name ? I 
 shall tell Leclerc that he must give a party every 
 
THE PRINCESS BOBGHESE. 279 
 
 day." And while talking, Pauline pulled Madame 
 Junot's ear, in imitation of the First Consul's favorite 
 gesture. 
 
 Madame Leclerc departed without Madame Junot. 
 The fleet set sail for Saint Domingo in the month of 
 December, 1801. Every luxury and elegance had 
 been provided for the sliip in which the sister of 
 the First Consul Avas to make the journey. The 
 beautiful Pauline resembled Cleopatra in her barge. 
 The voyage begun thus sumptuously had a sad issue. 
 The expecUtion was a complete failure ; and in this 
 first check France had a Avarning of future disasters. 
 During this unsuccessful campaign, Pauline comported 
 herself nobly, displaying an energy worthy of her 
 blood. She had taken with her her little boy named 
 Dermide, a curious name given him by his godfather. 
 Napoleon, who at that time was passionately fond of 
 Ossian. At Saint Domingo she was a fond mother, 
 a devoted wife ; she showed no fear of the epidemics 
 which were raging on the island, nor of the insurrec- 
 tion which broke out. Her husband ordered her to 
 sail back for home with the boy; but she refused, 
 saying that a Bonaparte could not run from danger. 
 When Leclerc was attacked by the illness which 
 carried him off in a few days, she nursed him with 
 incessant care, regardless of the danger of contagion 
 from the yellow fever, and piously carried back to 
 France the remains of the husband whom she mourned 
 sincerely. All these emotions and perils had affected 
 her health. That of her son, too, was destroyed by 
 
280 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the deadly climate, and the boy had but a few months 
 to live. 
 
 Early in 1803, the news of General Leclerc's death 
 reached Paris. The First Consul was deeply grieved, 
 for he esteemed and liked his brother-in-law. The 
 next day letters from Toulon announced the arrival 
 at that port of the ship that brought Madame Leclerc 
 and her son, together with the remains of the la- 
 mented general. " In January, 1803," says Madame 
 de Rdmusat, " the young and pretty widow returned 
 to France. She was at the time the victim of an ill- 
 ness from which she always afterwards suffered ; but 
 though weak and ailing, and dressed in mourning, 
 she seemed to me the most charming person I had 
 ever seen." 
 
 General Leclerc's death gave rise to a little diplo- 
 matic incident, and the way this was settled shows 
 once more how much the Republic under a Consul 
 resembled a monarchy. It is thus told by Madame de 
 R^musat : " Bonaparte Avent into mourning as well as 
 Madame Bonaparte, and we who were attached to the 
 household received orders to do the same thing. That 
 in itself was somewhat striking, but the question came 
 up about the visit to be made to the Tuileries by the 
 ambassadors, in order to condole with the Consul and 
 his wife in their loss. It was. conveyed to them that 
 politeness required that they too should wear mourn- 
 ing when they called. They met to deliberate, and 
 not havino- time to receive instructions from their 
 
THE PBINCESS BOBGHESE. 281 
 
 various courts, they decided to make the visit and 
 to observe the formalities usual in such cases." 
 
 At fii'st Pauline seemed an inconsolable widow, a 
 real Artemisia. She had her hair cut off in order to 
 lAace it, in token of her grief, within her husband's 
 coffin. " Oh ! " said the First Consul, " she knows it 
 will come out much handsomer for having been cut." 
 
 A lady equally conspicuous for intelligence, kindli- 
 ness, and talents, the Marchioness of Blocqueville, 
 the worthy daughter of the famous INIarshal Davoust, 
 has published a remarkable book, called " Marshal 
 Davoust, Prince of Eckmiihl, described by his family 
 and by himself." In this volume, wliich is full of 
 interesting details, is to be found a curious note on 
 the subject of Pauline's grief. Davoust, it should be 
 said, had married Mademoiselle Aim^e Leclerc, sister 
 of General Leclerc, and hence sister-in-law of Pauline 
 Bonaparte. " The body of General Leclerc was brought 
 back from Saint Domingo, and laid in the park of 
 Montgobert. His heart Avas enclosed in a gold urn. 
 The Princess Pauline Bonaparte, his wife, who had 
 been anxious to accompan}- him on that fatal expedi- 
 tion, after covering liis face Avith her beautiful hair, 
 like another Agrippina, but more beautiful, tenderer, 
 less ambitious, as well as less severe than the fu-st, 
 bi'ought back the heart of her husband, after having en- 
 graved on the vase which held it a few words of love. 
 Doubtless it would be possible to inscribe beneath 
 this utterance of ostentatious grief the famous lines 
 scratched, according to tradition, by Francis I. on a 
 
282 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 window of Cliambord. Nevertheless, my mother has 
 often told me that her sister-in-law had assured her 
 that she had never loved any one so much as Leclerc. 
 It is possible. A Avitty critic has maintained that all 
 princesses imagine themselves to be almost demi- 
 gods ; in that case, tliey feel authorized to practise 
 the religion of memorials like ordinary mortals." 
 
 What is certain is that in 1803, Pauline Bonaparte, 
 more beautiful than ever, seemed almost consoled. 
 She had made the conquest of a great Italian noble- 
 man, Prince Camille Borghese, born in Rome, in 
 1775, who asked to marry her. The First Consul did 
 not give his assent at once. He did not wish by any 
 undue haste to seem to be over-gratified by an aristo- 
 cratic alliance with Avldch, in fact, he Avas very well 
 pleased. At Saint Helena he said on the subject of 
 this marriage : " My foreign birth, which was some- 
 times brought up against me in France, was of great 
 value to me. One result was tliat all the Italians 
 looked on me as a fellow-countryman. . . . When the 
 question came up of the marriage of my sister Pauline 
 and Prince Borghese, there Avas only one feeling in 
 Rome and in Tuscany, in this family and all its 
 branches. 'There is no objection,' they all said; 'it's 
 between ourselves ; they are one of our families.' " 
 
 The Avedding of Pauline and Prince Borghese took 
 place November 6, 1803, in Joseph Bonaparte's castle 
 at Mortefontaine. A few days later the ucav prin- 
 cess and her husband Avere formally presented at 
 Saint Cloud, and the ceremony is thus described by 
 
THE PBINCESS BORGHESE. 283 
 
 the Duchess of Abrantes. It Avas evening, and the 
 wife of the First Consul Avas awaiting the arrival of 
 her sister-in-law. She, too, was anxious to appear 
 well. Although it was winter, she wore a thin dress 
 of India muslin. At the lower edge there was a little 
 border, as wide as a finger, of gold foil. The Avaist, 
 which was draped in thick folds in front, Avas caught 
 at each shoulder by a lion's head in black enamel ; 
 an embroidered girdle Avas fastened by a clasp like 
 the lions' heads on her shoulders. With her short 
 sleeves, bare arms, and her hair enclosed in a gilt 
 net, the meshes of Avhich met on her forehead, she 
 looked like a beautiful Greek statue. The First 
 Consul led her to the mirror oA^er the mantelpiece 
 that he might see her on all sides at once, and, kiss- 
 ing her shoulder, said: "Ah! Josephine, I shall be 
 jealous ; you have some plan in your head. Why are 
 you so beautiful, to-day ? " " I know that you like to 
 see me in Avhite, and so I put on a Avhite dress ; that 
 is all." " Well, if you did it to please me, you have 
 succeeded," and he kissed her again. But the prin- 
 cess was a little late, and Bonaparte Avent back to 
 his study a little annoyed. Suddenly a carriage Avas 
 heard in the courtyard ; it Avas a magnificent barouche, 
 adorned Avith a coat-of-arms, and it Avas ch-aAvn by six 
 fine horses. The outrider and the footman carried 
 lighted torches. Then the ncAAdy married pair, Avho 
 had come to make their Avedding call, alighted, and 
 reached the door of the great drawing-room. An 
 usher flung open the door and in a loud voice an- 
 
284 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 nounced : " Prince and Princess Borgliese." The 
 ]3rincess was in great splendor, in a dress of green 
 velvet covered Avitli diamonds. On one side she 
 carried a cluster of precious stones, emeralds, and 
 pearls of incalculable value, and on her head she wore 
 a diadem of emeralds and diamonds, Josephine 
 assumed all the airs of a queen, and let her sister-in- 
 law come up to her along nearly the whole length of 
 the drawing-room. A few minutes later Pauline said 
 to Madame Junot, " My sister-in-law thought she 
 would put me out by making me walk through the 
 drawing-room, but instead I was delighted." " Why 
 so ? " " Because my train would not have shown if 
 she had met me at the door, where as it was, my train 
 was very much admired." 
 
 Suddenly, however, the charming princess discov- 
 ered something which marred her triumph. She had 
 f orofotten — and she could not f orscive herself — that 
 the furniture of the room was covered with blue, an 
 admirable background for Josephine's white muslin ; 
 but she had on a green di-ess which quarrelled fright- 
 fully with that color. "• Oh, heavens ! " she whis- 
 pered in despair to Madame Junot, " I put on a green 
 dress to sit on a blue chair." In a few minutes the 
 Princess walked straight to Josephine to take her 
 leave, and the two sisters-in-law parted. 
 
 If Pauline Bonaparte had belonged to an utterly 
 obscure family, she would still have been famous for 
 her beauty ; but when Ave remember that to the beauty 
 of a Venus, worthy to inspire a genius like Canova, 
 
THE PRINCESS BOBGHESE. 285 
 
 she had the aclvantage of being Napoleon's sister and 
 the wife of one of the great Roman nobles, it is easy 
 to understand that her success was without precedent. 
 Whenever she went to the theatre, every opera-glass 
 was turned towards her. Her entrance into a ball- 
 room was greeted by a long murmur of admiration. 
 Her attire was always carefully stuched, and very 
 beautiful ; her jewelry was of enormous value. She 
 insx3ired the wildest enthusiasm. In fact, these ex- 
 ceptional women, these "professional beauties," as the 
 English call them, are seldom happy. Living always 
 for show, they have no leisure for domestic joy or for 
 genuine emotion. In their artificial existence there 
 is a perpetual fever, as if they were actresses. They 
 are admired, to be sure, but this admiration arouses 
 jealousy; and the men on wliom they do not smile 
 become as hostile as the women whom they eclipse. 
 They are the prey of gossip and scandal ; their most 
 innocent actions are misinterpreted. In spite of the 
 incense burned before them, of the splencUd luxury 
 which surrounds them, as if they were living idols, 
 of their pride gratified by a multitude of worshippers, 
 they feel that they live in an atmosphere of disappro- 
 bation, even of hate. The first sign of age, the first 
 wrinkle, the first deception, comes to them as a 
 calamity. Every new beauty who appears in the 
 drawing-room seems to them an insolent rival. They 
 wish to reign without dispute. Any one who does 
 not loudly praise them they regard as a foe ; criticism 
 seems to them like rebellion. In a word, they seek 
 
286 TBE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 amusement so eagerly that tliey tire tliemselves ; and 
 if any trace of moral dignity, of a moral ideal, is left 
 in them, tliey are sm-e to detect tlie bitter dregs in 
 the cup from which they thought to drink onl}" nec- 
 tar and ambrosia. In the early years of the century 
 the Princess Borghese was a model of flawless beauty. 
 Were such a woman living now, everything she did 
 would be published in the papers, especially in the 
 " society papers," as they are called. 
 
VII. 
 
 MADAME MOEEATJ. 
 
 IS not history a tragi-comedy, in which Shakesj)ea- 
 rian contrasts follow one another? After the 
 scene of the players comes the scene of the grave- 
 diggers ; after the splendors of Saint Cloud, the moat 
 of Vincennes. We have just been speaking of a pretty 
 woman, a queen of beauty, of her jewels, her dresses, 
 her finery; now we have to turn to the gloomiest 
 subjects, — plots, treachery, death sentences, and a 
 murder. We have just seen Bonaparte hapj)y and 
 triumphant, intoxicated Avith success, living in the 
 royal palaces with all the splendor of a new Louis 
 XIV. ; now we shall see him uneas}^, anxious, fearful 
 of ambushes at every turn, and finally losing his head 
 to the point of committing a crime, which shall haunt 
 his memory even at Saint Helena. 
 
 "Where is the woman?" used always to ask a 
 judge who well knew human nature. The woman 
 in the case of Cadoudal, Moreau, and Pichegru — • 
 one of the consequences of which was the death of 
 the Duke of Eno-hien — was Madame jMoreau. Had 
 it not been for her jealousy, vanity, and feminine 
 
 287 
 
288 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 spite, her husband, instead of being the unrelenting 
 enemy of Napoleon, would have become Marshal of 
 France, duke, prince, like Davoust, like Ney, like 
 Massdna. This thought suggested itself to me when 
 I was looking at the little monument raised to him 
 near Dresden, on the spot where the hero of Hohen- 
 linden fell by the side of the Emperor of Russia. 
 The ball, it will be remembered, took off both his legs. 
 
 What was the origin of Moreau's hatred for Napo- 
 leon, who had made him many advances? It was 
 the petty jealousy of Madame Moreau, who was un- 
 Avilling to acknowledge her inferiority to any woman. 
 She said to herself: "I am younger, prettier, better 
 educated than Madame Bonaparte. I was not mixed 
 up in the society of Tallien and Barras, as she Avas. I 
 don't mean to be her lady of honor, her servant. Af- 
 ter all, we are living in a republic, and we have noth- 
 ing to do with a sovereign. Tliis parody of the old 
 courts is a contemptible farce. If Bonaparte has 
 won victories, my husband has also won them, and 
 both are generals of the Republic, and my Ifusband is 
 the elder; he has commanded larger armies, and has 
 served his country Avith equal glory. I have a right 
 to be treated with respect ; I should not be obliged to 
 wait in anterooms. If there are people low enough to 
 forget their dignity to that extent, I am not one of 
 them." 
 
 Those who were interested in making a definite 
 breach between the First Consul and General Moreau 
 — and there were many, in the Republican as well 
 
3rADAME MORE A U. 
 
 as in the Bourbon camp — poured oil on ths fire to the 
 best of their abilit}^ Those Royalists who liad not 
 yet given their allegiance to the Consular Court paid 
 all sorts of attentions to Madame Moreau, and the 
 leaders of the aristocracy made a point of frequenting 
 her house in the rue d'Anjou Saint Honore, where she 
 used to give large balls. The First Consid detested 
 pin-j)ricks as much as dagger-strokes, and feared much 
 more tlie opposition of tlie drawing-rooms than that 
 of pul)lic places, because it is subtler, more impal- 
 pable than the other ; and he was extremely annoyed 
 by this petty warfare, by these feminine skirmishings, 
 in which, Avitli all his power, he could never get the 
 upper hand. The idlers, who always abound in 
 Paris, the Republicans, wroth with the elevation of 
 the Corsican Ca3sar, the returned emigres, who were 
 enraged at not once more getting possession of their 
 estates, were forever talking about these dissensions, 
 which set the two greatest Republican generals at 
 loggerheads. 
 
 Josephine, however, who was always courteous and 
 kindly, tried her best to pacify the wife of the con- 
 queror of Hohenlinden. Madame Moreau had been 
 one of her schoolmates at ]VIadame Campan's at Saint 
 Germain, where she had acquired tliose accomplish- 
 ments wliicli, in conjunction with licr beauty, had 
 filled her with a pride which her marriage with 
 Moreau had only augmented. Josephine had done 
 much to furtlier this match, Avhich she regarded as 
 favorable to the First Consul's interests. 
 
290 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 At that time Bonaparte and Moreau Avere on good 
 terms. In the morning of the 18th Brumaire, when 
 the First Consul had gone on horseback from his 
 house in the rue Chantereine to the Tuileries, Moreau 
 was one of the generals who escorted him. Bonaparte 
 took a malign pleasure in compromising him by bid- 
 ding him to keep his eye on the Directors at the 
 Luxembourg, thus making him the jailer of the rep- 
 resentatives of legality, while the coup d'etat was 
 taking place in the orange-house at Saint Cloud. On 
 his return from Marengo, the First Consul had wished 
 to make Moreau a present, and he had made for him 
 a pair of valuable pistols on which were engraved the 
 names of the principal battles in which the general 
 had distinguished himself. " You must excuse me," 
 Bonaparte said when he gave him the pistols, " if they 
 are not more ornamented; the names of your vic- 
 tories took all the place." 
 
 Moreau married Mademoiselle Hulot the 18th Bru- 
 maire, year IX. (November 9, 1800), exactly one year 
 before the day when Bonaparte seized the highest 
 power. In ten days the bridegroom went to take 
 command of the Army of Germany, and December 3, 
 1800, he won the l^rilliant victory of Hohenlinden. 
 On hearing of this battle, Madame Moreau hastened 
 to the Tuileries to see the First Consul and Madame 
 Bonaparte, but she called several times without get- 
 ting in. Tlie last time she went she was accompanied 
 by her mother, Madame Hulot, a rich Creole from the 
 Isle of France, an ambitious woman, quick to take 
 
MADAME MOBEAU. 291 
 
 offence and slow to forgive. Mother and daughter 
 waited for a long time, but in vain. As they were 
 going away, Madame Hulot was very angry, and said 
 in a loud voice that her daughter was not to be kept 
 waiting in that way. 
 
 Soon after, Madame Moreau joined her husband in 
 Germany, and her pride increased when she saw for 
 herself what fame and glory surrounded him. Madame 
 Hulot, who had stayed in France, went one day to 
 Malmaison to solicit the promotion of her eldest son, a 
 naval officer; Josephine received her very kindly and 
 asked her to stay to dinner, without saying anything 
 about it to her husband. At table Bonaparte was 
 visibly annoyed; he hardly spoke to her, and after 
 dinner he turned his back upon her. Josephine did 
 her best to atone for his impoliteness, saying that he 
 was much preoccupied and anxious about some 
 despatches that had not arrived. 
 
 The Duchess of Abrantes narrates a talk she had 
 with the First Consul a few days after Madame Hu- 
 lot's visit to Malmaison. " Do you know Madame 
 Moreau?" "I used to see her in society when we 
 were young." " Isn't she very clever in a great 
 many ways ? " " Yes ; I know that she dances very 
 well. Steilbelt, who is my dancing-master as well as 
 hers, says that next to Madame Delarue-Beaumarchais, 
 Mademoiselle Hulot was the best pupil he had ; she 
 paints miniatures ; she knows a good many languages, 
 and then she is very pretty." " Oh ! I can judge that 
 as well as any one, and I don't think so. She has a 
 
292 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 face like a nu1>cracker, a bad expression, and a very 
 unattractive appearance." Then Josephine broke in, 
 " You don't like her, and are unfair to her." Bona- 
 parte answered, " It is true, I don't like her ; and for 
 a very simple reason, — she hates me. She and her 
 mother are the evil geniuses of Moreau. Whom do 
 you think Josephine had to dinner the other day? 
 Madame Hulot — Madame Hulot at Malmaison ! " 
 " But," resumed Madame Bonaparte, " slie came to 
 make peace." "To make peace — Madame Hulot! 
 My poor Josephine, you are very credulous, very 
 simple ! " 
 
 It must be acknowledged that, Avith all his genius, 
 Napoleon lacked the equability and self-possession 
 which are necessary in a drawing-room. He could not 
 hide his antipathies, and he was subject to freaks, to 
 outbreaks of roughness and impatience which were 
 the despair of the people of the old regime like Talley- 
 rand. Josephine, on the other hand, knew how to 
 control herself, and could smile when her heart was 
 heavy. Being courteous from principle as well as by 
 nature, she never offended any one, and as a well-bred 
 woijian she received with charming grace even those 
 of whom she had good cause to complain. Having 
 lived successively in Royalist, Republican, and Con- 
 sular drawing-rooms, she was very familiar with 
 Parisian society, and by her tact and affability knew 
 how to reconcile the most hostile elements. Had it 
 been left to her, she would have smoothed all the dis- 
 sensions that arose between her husband and Moreau. 
 
3IADAME MOREAU. 293 
 
 But Bonaparte listened only to his wrath. He had, 
 it must be said, horror of any rivalry ; he would gladly 
 have loaded Moreau with benefits, with honors, with 
 money, but on one condition, — that no one should pre- 
 sume to compare the hero of Hohenlinden with the 
 hero of Marengo. There seemed as great a difference 
 between him and Moreau as betAveen Louis XIV. and 
 Conde ; and if he had been in the place of Louis XIV., 
 he would not have liked to hear much said about the 
 battle of Rocroy. Being younger than his principal 
 lieutenants, and having attained a wonderful position 
 with astonishing rapidity, he fancied that the slightest 
 familiarity w^ould mar his reputation, and he tried to 
 draw a rigid line between himself and his generals. 
 He demanded as much, in matters of etiquette, for his 
 wife, and compelled her, notwithstanding the marked 
 modesty which always distinguished her, to assume 
 the manners and tone of a queen. This greatly an- 
 noyed Madame Moreau, wlio said it was scarcely 
 worth while to have overthrown the old dynasty, if 
 now they had to endure another. 
 
 To these feminine grievances were added the seri- 
 ous regret of a certain number of generals and officers 
 wlio continued to be austere Republicans, the volun- 
 teers of the early years of the Republic, who had 
 suffered in the cause of liberty and national inde- 
 2)endence, for which they had sacrificed themselves 
 with a devotion void of all personal ambition. Gen- 
 eral de Segur has di'awn the portrait of these " Spar- 
 tans of the Rhine," as they were then called, — sturdy 
 
294 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 ancients, wlio preserved great simplicity in dress and 
 manner, and manifested a haughty and cUsdainful 
 surprise at the sight of the reviving luxury and of 
 the ambitious passions which took the place of the 
 simple, disinterested devotion of the early Republi- 
 can enthusiasm. 
 
 When Moreau returned to France without any 
 command, he fell under the influence of unoccupied 
 and cUscontented companions. There had long been 
 a latent rivalry between the officers of the Army of 
 Italy and those of the Army of the Rhine. The last- 
 named gave expression to their ill-humor with all a 
 soldier's frankness. One of them, General Domon, 
 who had a very caustic tongue, happened to be one 
 evening at a restaurant. He asked what they had 
 ready. "Chicken a la Marengo," answered the waiter. 
 "What do I care for chicken a la Marengo ? " shouted 
 Domon. " What I want is beef a la Hohenlinden." 
 
 We who live in a period of comparative tranquillity 
 cannot easily form an idea of the French officers at 
 the beginning of the century. Caring for nothing 
 but duels and battles, they were completely out of 
 their element in time of peace. The more rigid their 
 discipline in the ranks, the freer and more unbridled 
 their talk when their service was over. The officers' 
 coffee-houses were like the old clubs, and they them- 
 selves talked like the old tribunes. It was not easy 
 to control these men, thirsting for adventure, eager 
 for action, for emotion, and peril. Civilian dress did 
 not become them, and they seemed awkward when 
 
MADAME MOREAU. 295 
 
 holding a little switch instead of a sabre. Averse to 
 seeking in study and intellectual Avork an outlet 
 for their activity, they crowded the coffee-houses, 
 theatres, the galleries and restaurants of the Palais 
 Royal, scorning everything which Avas not military, 
 saying that the Consul would amount to nothing 
 without the army, and yet opposing the growth of 
 his power, Avhen all the rest of the country Avas bow- 
 ing before it respectfully. They looked on Moreau 
 and Bernadotte as the last of the Romans. 
 
 The future King of SAveden and Norwaj', Avho at 
 his coronation insisted on being anointed on his 
 forehead, his temples, his chest, and his Avrist by the 
 Archbishop of Upsala, while he held a golden horn 
 full of consecrated oil, Avas never tired of laughing 
 at the Concordat and at Bonaparte's Catholicism. 
 The future Charles XIV., who on the same occasion 
 rode out in triumph on horseback, wearing a Spanish 
 coat of silver cloth embroidered Avith diamonds, and 
 a plumed hat like that of Henry IV., noAV affected in 
 his dress and bearing a thoroughly Republican sim- 
 plicity. Who could have foreseen that the time 
 Avould come Avhen he should Avalk beneath a canopy, 
 Avhile f oiu' chamberlains of the highest nobility should 
 carry the train of his royal mantle ? 
 
 Bernadotte had married Mademoiselle Desirde 
 Clary, a young Avoman whom Napoleon had been 
 anxious to marry at the beginning of his career. She 
 was the sister of Madame Joseph Bonaparte. In 1803 
 he spent his time in quarrelling with the First Consul, 
 
296 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 and then in seeking to make peace. He liad given 
 up the command of the Army of the West, and was 
 in Paris in disgrace. But the First Consul stood 
 godfather for his son, wlio was named Oscar, under 
 the influence of Ossian, at that time a much-admired 
 poet. M^neval says : " Bernadotte, avIio was so obse- 
 quious before Napoleon, was forever consjjiring against 
 him; and then he resorted to 'everything to win for- 
 giveness. Joseph Bonaparte and his wife displayed 
 as much energy in securing his pardon as Bernadotte 
 did in his alternations of offence and submission." 
 
 As for Moreau, he systematically rejected the First 
 Consul's advances. He made a great show of never 
 appearing except in plain clothes, even at a meeting 
 of officers ; an excess of apparent modesty, which we 
 may well regard as an excess of pride. Rulers may 
 always mistrust those generals who do not wish to 
 wear their uniform. 
 
 One day Moreau refused an invitation to a formal 
 dinner at the Tuileries, saying he preferred to dine 
 with only a few friends. On another occasion he 
 refused to accompany the First Consul to a review. 
 When he was invited with the other generals to hear 
 the Te Deum for the Concordat at Notre Dame, and 
 to the banquet at the Tuileries, he did not go to the 
 Te Deum, and that evening he ridiculed it in the 
 presence of the Minister of War, with some other 
 generals who were dining with him. Once again, 
 there was a great supper at the palace, and Moreau 
 was absent. When somebody expressed surprise, 
 
MADAME MORUAU. 297 
 
 Bonaparte said that since his invitations had been 
 twice declined, he did not care to have that happen 
 again ; and Moreau was never again invited. His 
 coolness soon became open hostility. He made, in 
 winter, his mansion in the rue d'Anjou, and in sum- 
 mer his country-place, Grosbois, a centre of oppo- 
 sition. There the First Consul was treated as a 
 usurper with more luck than ability, as a traitor to 
 the Republic, and his plan of invading England was 
 called a wild dream. When Bonaparte received the 
 report of this talk from the police, he was furiously 
 angry. "Moreau," we read, in his " Memorial of Saint 
 Helena," "was ruled entirely by his wife, which is 
 always a misfortune, said the Emperor, because a man 
 is, in that case, neither himself nor his wife ; in fact, 
 he is nothing at all. Moreau was sometimes friendly, 
 sometimes hostile to the First Consul, sometimes 
 obsequious, sometimes bitter. The First Consul, 
 who would gladly have made a friend of him, found 
 himself obliged to have nothing to do with him. . 
 Moreau, he said, will end by breaking his head 
 against the columns of the palace. He was driven to 
 that by the absurd inconsistencies and pretensions of 
 his wife and his mother-in-law, who even went so far 
 as to wish to take precedence of the wife of the First 
 Consul. Once, said Napoleon, the Minister of For- 
 eign Affairs had to use force to prevent this at a 
 grand banquet." 
 
 Moreau's position in 1803 bore some likeness to that 
 of General Changarnier before the cou^ d'etat of 
 
298 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 December 2. He was surrounded by botli Republi- 
 cans and Royalists, and all the malcontents flocked 
 to liim. The Bourbons, who were as credulous as 
 exiles always are, thought they had found in him a 
 restorer of royalty, while, in fact, Moreau, who im- 
 agined that he had a party in the Senate and in the 
 army, was working onl}^ for himself, and in spite of 
 all the illusions of the Royalists, he looked upon the 
 part of a Monck as something below him. The officers 
 who were devoted to him had no share in the ideas 
 and interests of the ^migr<^s. General de S^gur, who 
 was a grandson of a Marshal of France, the Minister 
 of War under Louis XVL, who had felt a momentary 
 admiration for Moreau, left him, because he found him 
 unjust to the point of insolence for the men and things 
 of the old regime. " It was Moreau's rudeness," he 
 said, " which first opened my eyes to the mistake I 
 had made. One morning I had been to the rue d'An- 
 jou Saint Honor^, and Grenier or Lecourbe and he 
 began to talk in my presence about the French army 
 at the time of Louis XV. I listened to his remarks as 
 if they were oracles, although in fact they were not 
 at all remarkable, — for his way of speaking and his 
 manners were noticeably common, — when forgetting 
 or not knowing my relationship, he spoke of all the 
 generals of the old regime, without exception, in the 
 vilest and most insulting: lanofuarre. This brousrht all 
 my blood to my face, and wounded by this attack on 
 my grandfather, a biave man, maimed in his coun- 
 try's service, for whom I was then in mourning, I left 
 
MADAME MOBEAU. 299 
 
 at once. INIy anger was not less keen because I was 
 unable to make any reply to this insolent brutality." 
 
 The Royalists were not so particular; they imag- 
 ined that Moreau was their man, and nothing could 
 remove this idea from their heads. But vague rumors 
 began to get into circulation. The First Consul's 
 friends said that his life was seriously threatened, 
 and at Saint Cloud and the Tuileries precautions 
 were taken which were turned to ridicule by Moreau's 
 friends. In certain sets it was the fashion to say that 
 the alleged plots were an in iio i ^tt fon of the police ; 
 but the Chouans knew better. As to the general 
 public, it awaited events. In the night of February 
 14, 1804, a Council of Ministers was held at the 
 Tuileries. " I have been the kindest of men," said 
 Bonaparte, " but I shall be the most terrible when it 
 is necessary, and I shall crush Moreau, as I should 
 the next man, for entering into plots odious in their 
 aim, and disgraceful for the affiliations which they 
 imply." The next morning a picked force was sent 
 to the rue d'Anjou Saint Honor^, to arrest Moreau 
 at his home. The gendarmes, failing to find him 
 there, started to seek him at his country-place, and 
 met him on the bridge of Charenton returning to 
 Paris. He was arrested and conveyed to the Temple, 
 where the famous general of the Republican army 
 must have remembered another captive. King Louis 
 XVI. 
 
VIII. 
 
 THE CONSPIRACY. 
 
 MOREAU was arrested, and every one was ask- 
 ing the cause of this unexpected event. The 
 provinces were comparatively indifferent, but at Paris 
 there was much excitement in the drawing-rooms, the 
 caf^s, and in the reunions of the officers wlio had be- 
 longed to the Army of the Rhine. Every one was 
 wondering what was the explanation of the mystery. 
 The First Consul said to Madame de Rdmusat: "I 
 have just ordered Moreau's arrest. Ah ! you are sur- 
 prised; that will make some talk, don't you think? 
 People will say that I am jealous of Moreau, and that 
 this is a bit of revenge, and a thousand platitudes of 
 that sort. I jealous of Moreau ! Why, he owes the 
 greater part of his glory to me ; I let him have a fine 
 army, and kept nothing but recruits in Italy; I asked 
 nothing better than to live on good terms with him. 
 I certainly was not afraid of Moreau ; for I am not 
 afraid of any one, and least of all, of Moreau. Twenty 
 times at least I have saved him from compromising 
 himself; I told him that they would make trouble 
 between us, and he knew it as well as I did. But he 
 
 300 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 301 
 
 is weak and proud, the women controlled him, and 
 the political parties made him their tool." After 
 speaking thus, Bonaparte went up to Josephine, took 
 her by the chin, lifting her head, and said : "• Not 
 every man has a good wife as I have. You are cry- 
 ing, Josephine ; why ? are you afraid ? " " No," she 
 answered, " but I don't like to think of what will be 
 said." "But what can you do? I am not moved 
 by hate or any desire of revenge ; I have thought a 
 long time before having Moreau arrested. I might 
 have kept my eyes shut and have given him a chance 
 to run away, but then it would have been said that I 
 did not dare to bring him to trial. I have the means 
 of convicting him ; he is guilty ; I am the govern- 
 ment ; all this will go off very simply." 
 
 The First Consul's friends maintained that if 
 Moreau was arrested, it was because he was guilty, 
 and they defended Bonaparte against every charge 
 of jealousy or injustice. But the opposition asserted 
 that the conspiracy was an idle story, an invention of 
 the police, and that it should not be called Moreau's 
 conspiracy, but the conspiracy against Moreau. The 
 prisoner's wife put on an air of majestic grief which 
 added to the impression already produced by her 
 husband's arrest and incarceration. It was scarcely 
 three months since the affair of the infernal machine ; 
 and since men's memories are short in Paris, a number 
 of people held that an attempt to assassinate the First 
 Consul was an impossibility. It was everywhere said 
 that it was abominable to suppose that the hero of 
 
302 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 Hohenlindeii could be a criminal. It was, to be sure, 
 whispered that Pichegru and Georges Cadoudal were 
 in Paris, hiding in some mysterious, impenetrable 
 corner; but then it was added that this was a mere 
 fancy of the police, that the alleged conspirators were 
 not in Paris, and they defied the government to find 
 them. 
 
 Yet there was great anxiety among those about 
 Bonaparte, and ever since the autumn the men who 
 had charge of his safety were in continual expecta- 
 tion of a catastrophe. There were sudden alarms 
 first at Saint Cloud, and afterwards at the Tuileries. 
 S^gur, who had charge of the guard of the First Con- 
 sul, gave the watchwords and countersigns, and took 
 the most minute precautions in concert with his band 
 of picked men. Every day a new attempt was feared; 
 at one time it was a projected ambush near Malmaison 
 from which an attack was to be made on the First 
 Consul's carriage ; at another, it was a mine dug 
 beneath the road through which he would have to pass, 
 and where he would be stopped by a block of vehicles ; 
 once, at Saint Cloud, the guards found a man leaning 
 against a statue very near the door of Napoleon's 
 study, which opened on the terrace of the orange- 
 house ; and once, too, an officer, who was more anx- 
 ious than usual, said to S^gur : " Didn't you see from 
 the window where I always stand a stout, short man, 
 with thick eyebrows, a fierce expression, whose head 
 seemed sunk in his shoulders?" That tallied with 
 
THE CONSPIEACY. 303 
 
 the description of the invisible and terrible Chouan, 
 Georgfes Cadondal. 
 
 Early in Febvnary, 1804, at the Tuileries, Segur, 
 Avho was on dnty, had fallen asleep on his camp-bed 
 one night at about one o'clock, when he felt some 
 one shaking him very hard. He sprang up, and saw 
 that it was Caulaincourt, who said, " Get up I You 
 must change the watchword at once, and do every- 
 thing as if we were in the presence of the enemy. 
 You understand me ; there's not a moment to lose." 
 S(3gur immediately organized the rounds and the 
 patrols in the palace, the garden, and all about, in 
 such a way that every sentinel was obliged to chal- 
 lenge at least three times a minute. This system 
 continued many weeks, until the crisis had passed. 
 
 Moreau was arrested February 15, and Pichegru 
 on the 28th of the same month, but Georges Cadoudal, 
 the head of the conspiracy, still eluded capture. The 
 First Consul was very angry, and insisted that the 
 police must lay hands on this man, who had long 
 been laughing at them, for his arrest was absolutely 
 necessary for the preliminary trial. To this end the 
 most vigorous measures were taken. Paris was kept 
 under close inspection. Entrance was permitted, but 
 no one was allowed to leave. Any one trying to 
 break this order was liable to be shot down like a dog. 
 The garrison was put on a war footing; the Seine 
 was covered with barges full of gendarmes ; all the 
 gates were kept closed ; night and day Paris was sur- 
 rounded by posts, bivouacs, and sentinels ; orders were 
 
304 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 given to fire on any one appearing outside of the 
 Avails. Jury trial was suspended ; tlie concealment 
 of the conspirators was declared high treason, and it 
 was ordered that the concealment of any information 
 about them should be punished by six years' impris- 
 onment. It was like a return to the days of the 
 Terror. The First Consul pursued the conspirators 
 as a hunter pursues his prey, for it was with him a 
 matter of honor as well as a means of protecting his 
 life. If Cadoudal eluded arrest, the plot could not 
 be proved, and the government would be left in a 
 detested and ridiculous position. At last, on the 9th 
 of ]\Iarch, the terrible Chouan was hunted down. At 
 about seven in the evening, when he was escaj)ing in 
 a cab, he was pursued and caught in the Carrefour 
 de Bucy. He blew out the brains of one of the men 
 who were running to stop the cab-horse, but the crowd 
 surrounded him ; resistance Avould have been useless ; 
 he was captured. 
 
 Then the public began to believe in the reality of 
 the conspiracy. It was not a Republican plot, but, 
 like the incident of the infernal machine, a Royalist 
 plot, in which it must be acknowledged that the 
 Bourbon princes had taken part. The ringleader was 
 Georges Cadoudal, who Avas born January 1, 1771, 
 at Kerl^ano, near Auray ; he was the son of a laboring 
 man, and had been the leader of the Breton Chouans. 
 After he had been compelled to accept the peace nego- 
 tiated by General Brune, January 2, 1800, he had 
 betaken himself to Paris, Avhere he had had a secret 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 305 
 
 interview with the First Consul. Bonaparte, who 
 knew men well, and had at a glance discovered the 
 Breton leader's sturdy character, made every effort 
 to win him over to his side. In a conversation that 
 lasted nearly two hours he did his best to persuade 
 him to choose between a position as general in com- 
 mand of a division of the Army of Italy and an annual 
 pension of one hundi-ed thousand francs, on the sole 
 condition that he should abstain from politics ; but 
 Cadoudal was inflexible. 
 
 Bourrienne has given an account of this mysterious 
 interview which took place at the Tuileries. Rapp 
 introduced the famous Chouan into a di'awing-room 
 overlooking the garden. The doors were left open, 
 and Bourrienne and Rapp, who were in the adjoining 
 anteroom, saw the First Consul and Georges Cadoudal 
 walking up and down the whole length of the room 
 for a long time in animated conversation. At times 
 their words and gestures became excited. " You don't 
 look at things in the right way," said Bonaparte, " and 
 you make a great mistake in not coming to any agree- 
 ment. But if you insist on going back to your own 
 country, you shall leave Paris as freely as you entered 
 it.*' When the talk was over, and nothing had come 
 of it, the First Consul said to Rapp, " Tell me why 
 you left the doors open and stayed there with Bour- 
 rienne." " If you had closed the door," answered 
 Rapp, " I should have opened it again." Bonaparte, 
 who took a very low view of human nature, but had 
 a high feeling alx)ut matters of honor, said, " For 
 
306 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 shame, Rapp; you would have done nothing of the 
 sort ! Cadoudal," he went on, " takes a faulty view 
 of things, but the exaggeration of his principles is 
 due to very noble feelings, which must give him a 
 great deal of influence. We must put a stop to it, 
 however." 
 
 After this interview, the Breton chief felt insecure 
 in Paris and went to England, where he was warmly 
 greeted by the English government, and he receiyed 
 from Louis XVIII., through the Count of Artois, the 
 position of lieutenant-general, the grand ribbon of 
 Saint Louis, and a congratulatory letter on his con- 
 duct. The treaty of Amiens put a stop to the plot- 
 ting, but it began anew at the outbreak of hostilities. 
 There was no limit to English perfidy ; their minister 
 at Munich set in motion a far-reaching conspiracy. 
 He communicated to his agents in France a way to 
 win over the guards of arsenals and powder-magazines, 
 so as to be able to burn them or blow them up when- 
 ever necessary. Lord Hawkesbury, in the face of all 
 Europe, loudly proclaimed this doctrine, that " every 
 wise government owes it to itself to take every possi- 
 ble advantage from any dissatisfaction that may exist 
 in a country with which it is at war, and consequently 
 it should lend aid and encouragement to the plans of 
 the malcontents." Georges Cadoudal organized his 
 conspiracy with the aid of English money. He re- 
 solved to go secretly to Paris, where Pichegru should 
 join him, and there to enter into communication with 
 Moreau, on whom he thought he could count, and to 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 307 
 
 set on foot a criminal attack on tlie First Consul. 
 With liim out of the way, Moreau and Pichegru 
 would take control of the army, and Louis XVIII. 
 would be called to the throne. Since he intended to 
 take a band of conspirators with which to attack Bon- 
 aparte surrounded by his escort, he said to himself, in 
 palliation of the murder, that it would not be an 
 assassination, but a fair fight: singular casuistry, 
 which shows how blinding are political passions ! 
 
 Near Dieppe, towards Biville, there is a cliff more 
 than two hundred and fifty feet high, and there it 
 was, less than a hundred paces from a signal-tower 
 occupied by a lookout, which, however, left it at 
 night, that Cadoudal mysteriously returned to France, 
 August 22, 1803. A rope as thick as a merchant- 
 vessel's cable was let down the cliff; it was made 
 fast to a series of stakes set deep in the earth every 
 six feet. It was in nightly use by smugglers, — the 
 last to ascend coiling the rope and fastening it to a 
 post in order to hide it from the patrol below ; and 
 by this perilous climb Cadoudal, and a few weeks 
 later. Riviere, Polignac, General Pichegru, and many 
 other conspirators were able to enter the country. 
 Hiding by day and advancing by night they suc- 
 ceeded in reaching Paris in disguise, and there for a 
 long time they eluded the police. Pichegru, who 
 had landed at the cliff of Biville January 16, 1804, 
 was in Paris four days later. He had an interview 
 with Moreau one dark night on the boulevard de 
 la Madeleine. The two generals had not met since 
 
308 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 the time wlien they had fought together so gloriously 
 on the banks of the Rhine. They were joined by 
 Cadoudal, to Moreau's great surprise and evident 
 annoyance, for he was anxious to work for himself 
 rather than for the Chouans. " This is a bad begin- 
 ning," the Breton leader said to himself j and a few 
 days later, when he saw that the intriguers had mis- 
 led him with regard to Moreau's real intentions, he 
 said, "Usurper for usurper; I prefer the one who 
 now governs to this Moreau who has no head and no 
 heart." Pichegru did not deceive himself about his 
 old comrade ; he said, with some bitterness, " He, too, 
 is ambitious and wants to govern France ; but, poor 
 fellow, he couldn't govern it twenty-four hours." 
 Meanwhile, the Count of Artois, who was misled by 
 false reports, exclaimed with joy, " Since our two 
 generals agree, I shall soon be back in France." 
 The conqueror of Holland was given up by a treach- 
 erous friend. " Pichegru," said Napoleon, " was a 
 victim of the most infamous treachery. It was a 
 disgrace to humanity ; his intimate friend sold him ; 
 this man, whom I will not mention by name, so 
 odious and disgusting was his action, an old officer, 
 since then in business at Lyons, came with an offer 
 to give him up for a hundred thousand crowns." 
 
 All this is like a novel, or a melodrama, with this 
 curious setting and series of adventures, Avith the 
 mysterious, invisible men who defy the police ; with 
 the Biville cliffs at which English boats secretly 
 touch in the darkness ; the hiding in the woods, and 
 
THE CONSPIBACY. 309 
 
 ill the very heart of Paris ; the bokl Breton who 
 plays fearlessly with clanger and death ; the hero of 
 Hohenlinden arrested like a common criminal ; the 
 conqueror of Holland banished and tracked like a 
 wild beast ! All these strange, unexpected incidents 
 were very impressive, and threw a gloom over our 
 giddy Paris. There spread vague rumors of the 
 speedy arrival on French territory of a prince of the 
 house of Bourbon. Was it the Count of Artois, the 
 Duke of Berry, the Duke of Angouleme, the Duke of 
 Enghien? Were the Vendeans going to renew the 
 fight? Did the English mean to land troops, arms, 
 and supplies on the coast ? Was the First Consul to 
 be assassinated? And was he to be killed with a 
 dagger, or by a new infernal machine ? And what 
 would happen then ? Would the Republic or a mon- 
 archy be established? All the questions were an- 
 swered by each party according to its wishes. 
 
 Meanwhile Bonaparte was uneasy, nervous, agi- 
 tated; and he watched at the same time Paris, the 
 provinces, and foreign countries, observing the Ven- 
 deans, England, and the Rhine, ready to Avard the 
 blow, from whatever quarter it might come. He was 
 in a state of extreme tension; and he employed all 
 his resources as a tactician, all his activity as general, 
 as if he were on the field of battle. He commanded 
 the agents of the secret police as if they were soldiers, 
 stimulating the activity of the picked force who all 
 had the most ardent devotion to his person. The 
 instinct of self-preservation put him in the state of 
 
310 TUE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 legitimate defence. It is easy to understand the 
 wrath that filled him, believing what he had so often 
 been told, that he was the regenerator, the saviour of 
 France, the Messiah of the nineteenth century, when 
 he thought that a miserable band of assassins might 
 perhaps destroy him and his vast work. Naturally 
 he was indignant with the perfidy of England in 
 hiring murderers and putting weapons in their hands ; 
 and with the ungrateful emigres, of whom he asked 
 nothing more than they should return to their estates 
 and their country, while they expressed their grati- 
 tude by these abominable plots. It is easy to under- 
 stand what must have filled the soul of a man so 
 violent and impetuous, who was accustomed to tri- 
 umph over every obstacle. 
 
 Nor is it difficult to picture Josephine's distress 
 when she saw her husband and herself so beset with 
 perils. But with her experience of danger, she kept 
 up a good heart. In the Reign of Terror, on the 
 evening of the infernal machine, she had seen death 
 near her without a tremor. With all her anxiety, 
 she did not lose her head ; she continued to be amia- 
 ble and kindly, appeasing and advising her irascible 
 husband. She especially urged that a distinction 
 should be made between the innocent and the guilty, 
 and that no steps should be taken under the impulse 
 of blind fury. She maintained that the whole Royalist 
 party was not to be held responsible for the excesses 
 of a handful of fanatics. Unfortunately for Napoleon, 
 he refused to listen to Josephine ; in liis exasperation 
 
THE CONSPIBACY. 311 
 
 he lost all self-control ; he yearned to do something 
 terrible, to strike some strong blow. He represented 
 vengeance ; his wife, kindness. At the Tuileries there 
 was a struggle between anger and pity. The Consu- 
 lar Court put on a gloomy aspect, and every one 
 wondered whether Bonaparte was to be victim or 
 executioner. What is more inauspicious than the 
 prologue of the eventful drama, called the death of 
 the Duke of Enghien ? 
 
IX. 
 
 THE AEREST OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 
 
 nVTOTHING so disturbs and upsets rulers as plots 
 _L^ against their lives. The same man who, on the 
 battlefield, looks at death without a quiver, loses his 
 self-control when he thinks that he is encompassed 
 by assassins. The thought that the freak of a fanatic, 
 of a madman, may overthrow the vast structure of 
 power and pride, this bitter and cruel thought recall- 
 ino- to the a'reat man — sunk in infatuation with him- 
 self — the nothingness of human life and the irony of 
 fate, becomes an incessant torture. A paltry kitchen 
 knife may strike down the most formidable sword, 
 the most majestic sceptre. The merest fool may make 
 of triumphant Cffisar a corpse. The men wdio are 
 most fearless before the enemy cannot accustom them- 
 selves to this idea. They see murderers everywhere ; 
 inoffensive persons appear to them as terrible as 
 spectres. A profound sadness and melancholy accom- 
 pany this anxiety. A man of powerful imagination 
 thus haunted by gloomy visions loses all the cool 
 wisdom of a statesman ; anger, revenge, the instinct 
 of self-preservation drive him to extreme steps. 
 312 
 
ABREST OF THE DUKE OF ENGRIEN. 313 
 
 Bonaparte's irritation grew continually. The arrest 
 of the Bourbon aides-de-camp, Avho were allied with 
 Georges Cadoudal and Cadoudal's own confessions 
 only added to it. He waited with feverish im- 
 patience for news from Colonel Savary, who, with 
 men in disguise, had for some weeks been watching 
 the cliff at Biville, not far from Dieppe, Avhere it was 
 expected that a prince would land as the conspirators 
 had done. There were jutting rocks beneath the cliff 
 so that a landing could be made only at high tide 
 and with a smooth sea. Savary, wlio was ahvays on 
 the watch, saw no one land there ; Captain Wright's 
 brig, on board of which the prince was supposed to 
 be, appeared one evening and tacked about, but no 
 one came ashore from it. 
 
 Thereupon Bonaparte turned his attention to the 
 banks of the Rhine. He knew that the Duke of 
 Enghien, son of the Duke of Bourbon, and a Princess 
 of Orleans was then at Ettenheim, in the Grand 
 Duchy of Baden. This Prince, who was born in 
 1772, was renowned for his bravery; in Condi's army 
 he was regarded as a hero. After the battle of 
 Bersheim he had given proof of a noble humanity, by 
 saving the life of the French prisoners whom the emi- 
 gres wished to shoot in retaliation. In 1801 in con- 
 sequence of the treaty of Luneville, he had to lay 
 down his arms and inhabit Ettenheim, a former resi- 
 dence of the Cardinal of Rohan, on the right bank of 
 the Rhine, four leagues from Strassburg. There he 
 lived as a plain private citizen, in the society of a 
 
314 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 young and charming woman who warmly loved him, 
 the Princess of Roha-n. He cultivated flowers, 
 hunted, and with 3-outhful carelessness scorned the 
 wise advice of those who blamed him for livii»: so 
 near the French frontier. It was even thought that 
 he carried his boldness so far as to go occasionally to 
 Strassburg, when, if rumor was true, he would go 
 quietly to the theatre. But his father had written 
 to him from London : " You are very near, take care, 
 and take every precaution to get word in time and to 
 get off in safety, in case it sliould enter the Consul's 
 head to abduct you. Don't think that there is any 
 courage in foolhardiness in this respect." This letter 
 was dated June 6, 1803. 
 
 When Bonaparte learned of the non-arrival of any 
 Bourbon prince by the cliff at Biville, he imagined 
 that it was through Alsace that one of the princes, 
 probably tlie Duke of Enghien, would enter France. 
 He sent to Ettenheim an under officer of the gen- 
 darmes in chsguise, to secure secret information. 
 At that time there was with the Duke of Enghien 
 an ^migrt^. General, the Marquis of Thumery, and the 
 way in which the Germans pronounced this name 
 (Thoumeriez) led the under officer to think that the 
 hero of Jemmapes (Dumouriez) was Avith the prince, 
 and he made haste to send a report to this effect, 
 adding that the Duke of Enghien had often entered 
 France, according to some, going only as far as 
 Strassburg, but according to others, as far as Paris. 
 This report arrived March 10, 1801. ^'What!" 
 
ABREST OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 316 
 
 sliouted the First Consul, when he saw M. R^al come 
 in, " You didn't tell me that the Duke of Enghien is 
 only four leagues from the frontier! Am I a dog to 
 1)6 knocked on the head in the street? Are my mur- 
 derers sacred? Why didn't you tell me they were 
 gathering at Ettenheim ? This is a direct attack. 
 It is time for me to fight fire with fire. The culprit's 
 head shall pay for it." 
 
 That same morning a servant of Cadoudal, named 
 Leridant, who was arrested with liis master, had testi- 
 fied that a young man, well dressed, and an object of 
 general respect, had often visited the conspirators in 
 Paris. Bonaparte immediately decided that this 
 young man must have been the Duke of Enghien. 
 Often the vulgarest details, the pettiest circum- 
 stances, settle tlie destiny of the world. If the Ger- 
 mans of Ettenheim had pronounced the name of the 
 Marquis of Thumery a little less incorrectly, if a ser- 
 vant had not mentioned a person who was wrongly 
 supposed to he the last of the Cond^s, perhaps Napo- 
 leon's diadem would not have borne this bloody stain. 
 The whole affair bears the mark of fatality. The 
 First Consul, had he been cool and in possession of 
 full information, would not have committed the deed 
 of which he was guilty under the influence of passion, 
 misled by inaccurate reports. 
 
 A council was held March 10, at the Tuileries, 
 when were present the three Consuls, tlie ministers, 
 and FoucIkj. In spite of the opposition of Camba- 
 c^res, it was decided that the Duke of Enghien and 
 
316 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 the alleged General Diiniouiiez should be abducted 
 from Ettenheim by French troops, and that Colonel 
 de Caulaincourt should take to the Grand Duke of 
 Baden a letter explaining this \aolation of German 
 territory. Caulaincourt, who was related to the 
 Condes, had no knowledge of the contents of the 
 letter; but yet he was uneasy. After the council, 
 March 10, he received the order to depart imme- 
 diately, as did Colonel Ordener, Avho Avas to com- 
 mand the fatal expedition. 
 
 Five days later, March 15, Colonel Ordener, with 
 thirty men of the Twenty-sixth Dragoons and twenty- 
 five gendarmes, crossed the Rhine at Rheinau, nearly 
 opj)osite Ettenheim, leaving three squadrons of dra- 
 goons in reserve on the left bank. The little party 
 under Ordener's conuuand advanced rapidly in the 
 darkness, and passed through three slumbering vil- 
 lages without being seen. It was about dawn when 
 they reached Ettenheim. They surrounded the house 
 in which was the Duke of Enghien with two aides- 
 de-camp, eleven servants, nearly two and a half mil- 
 lion francs in a money-box, and loaded firearms. One 
 of the two aides, General de Grunstein, hastened to 
 the prince's chamber when he heard the boots of the 
 gendarmes on the pavement and the clatter of their 
 weapons. He shouted out, " You are surrounded ! " 
 Then the Duke of Enghien sprang out of bed, seized 
 a double-barrelled gun, threw open a window, and 
 took aim at Major Chariot, the commander of the 
 gendarmes. There were twenty windows opening on 
 
AEREST OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 317 
 
 tlie street, and from these the prince's servants might 
 have fired on their assailants, while the prince, per- 
 haps, might have got away on the other side of the 
 lionse, and have fled towards the mountain. But just 
 as he was taking aim, was ahout to fire the shot 
 which would have been the signal for the fight to 
 begin, ]\I. de Grunstein put his hand on the prince's 
 gun and prevented him firing. " Gentlemen," said 
 Major Chariot, "we are here in force; don't resist, 
 it would do no good." Then the gendarmes entered 
 the house, and the prince let himself be disarmed. 
 They looked everywhere for General Dumouriez, 
 but they found only the Marquis of Thumery, whose 
 name had given rise to this fatal error. Major Char- 
 lot examined M. de Grunstein; and the Duke broke 
 in, " If it had not been for him, I should have killed 
 you ; you owe your life to him." When they "Were 
 seizing his papers, he said, " Don't be surprised, you 
 are going to see the correspondence of a Bourbon, of 
 a prince of the blood of Hemy IV." Remembering 
 that there were a good many letters of the Princess 
 of Rohan in the package they had seized, he added, 
 "I hope you will exercise all possible discretion about 
 things that don't concern the government." 
 
 A few minutes later, the gendarmes led away the 
 unfortunate prince with his two aides-de-camp and 
 some of his servants. The Duke passed through 
 Ettenheim on foot ; at the town gate he was met by 
 Colonel Ordener, who had him carried in a peasant's 
 cart to the river, Avhich he crossed in a boat, thence 
 
318 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 he was diiven in a carriage to Strassburg, and locked 
 lip in the citadel. On the way, the prisoner said to 
 Major Chariot : " This expedition must have been 
 prepared very secretly, and I am surprised that I 
 didn't get wind of it, for I am popular at Ettenheim. 
 You would not have found me this evening, for yes- 
 terday the Princess of Rohan besought me to leave ; 
 but I postponed my departure under the impression 
 that you would not have time to get here to-night. 
 I am sure that she will come and want to follow me ; 
 she is very much attached to me ; treat her well." 
 
 The unfortunate duke was right ; Madame de 
 Rohan wished to share his lot. She reached the 
 citadel in tears, begging for permission to see the 
 prince, to go to Paris where doubtless she would have 
 tried to move Bonaparte. Her efforts were vain; the 
 poor young woman was never again to see the man 
 she loved; she could not even take leave of him, 
 even see him a single moment. Not only was she 
 expelled from the citadel, but she was arrested and 
 forbidden to go to Paris. " Am I to be prisoner for 
 the rest of my life ? " the duke asked sadly; " I esteem 
 Bonaparte and look upon him as a great man ; but he 
 is not a Bourbon, he has no right to rule France ; he 
 ought to restore the crown to my family." He re- 
 mained in the citadel of Strassburg from the 15th of 
 March till the morning of the 18th, when he was 
 awakened and told that he was to depart alone, with- 
 out his aides-de-camp and his servants. After cbess- 
 ing hastily he said to them, " ]\Iy friends, I am sorry 
 
ARBEST OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 319 
 
 that I can do nothing more for you." Then he got 
 into the post-chaise which Avas to carry him directly 
 to Vincennes, the termination of this fatal journey. 
 
 What was going on meanwhile in Bonaparte's 
 mind? He was gloomy and agitated, and he pre- 
 served an ominous silence. No one dared speak to 
 him. It was a Sunday, — -Palm Sunday, — and mass 
 was said at the Tuileries as usual. After mass, 
 Josephine told ]\Iadame de Remusat that she was go- 
 ing to spend the week at Malmaison. " I am very 
 glad of it," she added, " for Paris frightens me now." 
 A few hours later, the carriages of the Consular Court 
 started from the Tuileries for Malmaison; in one was 
 Bonaparte, in the other, Josephine with Madame de 
 Remusat. On the way thither the following dialogue 
 took place between the two women. " I am going to 
 tell you a great secret. This morning Bonaparte told 
 me that he had sent M. de Canlaincourt to the fron- 
 tier to seize the Duke of Enghien. He is to be 
 brought here." " Heavens ! and what are they going 
 to do with him?" "Apparently he is to be tried. I 
 have done my best to get him to promise that the 
 prince shall not be put to death, but I am much 
 afraid that his mind is made up." " What ! you 
 think he will have him put to death?" "I am 
 afraid so." 
 
 The two women were in great consternation when 
 they reached jNIalmaison, where they were obliged to 
 conceal their emotions. The next day, Monday, 
 INIarch 19, in the morning, Madame Bonaparte had 
 
320 THE WIFE OF TIIE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 a cypress set out in a part of the garden wliicli had 
 just been arranged. " Ah ! Madame," said to her 
 Madame de Remusat, "that tree is very appropriate 
 to the day." 
 
 Tuesday, March 20, the Duke of Enghien reached 
 Paris with his guard at eleven in the morning. He 
 was kept in his carriage at the gates for part of the 
 day, and at four in the afternoon he was driven by 
 the outer boulevards to the Castle of Vincennes. 
 
 Meanwhile Bonaparte at Malmaison assumed a 
 calmness which he did not feel. After dinner he 
 played with his nephew, the young Napoleon, Louis's 
 son. Observing Madame de Remusat's pallor, he 
 said to her, " Why didn't you rouge ? You are too 
 pale." She replied that she had forgotten it. "What ! 
 a woman forgetting to rouge ! You would never do 
 that, Josephine. Two tilings are always becoming to 
 women, — rouge and tears." 
 
 Then he bes'an a wame of chess with Madame de 
 Remusat, and while playing he repeated to himself 
 these lines from Voltaire : — 
 
 Of the gods we worship, know then the difference : 
 Thine have commanded tliee murder and vengeance ; 
 And mine, when thy hand has but just now slain me, 
 Orders me to pity thee and to forgive thee. 
 
 He repeated also Corneille's great scene : — 
 
 Let us be friends, Cinna ; it is I who ask thee. 
 
 But it was not clemency that was to prevail. 
 
X. 
 
 THE DEATH OP THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 
 
 MARCH 20, before the end of the day, the Duke 
 of Enghien, Avho had no anticipations of what 
 awaited him, reached the Castle of Vincennes, where 
 he was to die. The castle was then dilapidated and 
 unused. The governor, one Harrel, had received 
 orders to prepare accommodations for a prisoner ; and 
 he had also been requested to dig a grave in the 
 courtyard. He answered that tliis was not easy, since 
 the courtyard was paved. He was told to choose 
 another place, and he accordingly had it dug in the 
 moat which encircled the building. The Prince was 
 hungry, and they sent out into the village for food. 
 He sat down to the table, and, Avhile eating, ques- 
 tioned Harrel about Vincennes and all that had hap- 
 pened there since the Revolution. He said he had 
 been brought up near the castle, and added, " What 
 do they want of me? What are they going to do 
 with me?" But his words and his face expressed no 
 anxiety ; and after dinner, being tired from his jour- 
 ney, he went to bed in perfect calmness. 
 
 Meanwhile tlie preparations for the tragedy were 
 
 321 
 
322 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 going on. The First Consul had the orders made 
 out, and signed them himself. Then at about five in 
 the evening, he had Colonel Savaiy, the commander 
 of the picked band of gendarmes, summoned to his 
 room, Avhere he gave him a sealed letter, with orders 
 to carry it without a moment's delay to General 
 Murat, the governor of Paris. When he reached 
 Murat's house, Savary met Talleyrand, the Minister 
 of Foreign Affairs, coming out. The colonel was in 
 complete ignorance of what was going to happen ; 
 and he was expecting to return to Malmaison, when 
 he received orders to take the command, in addition 
 to his gendarmes, of a brigade of infantry which was 
 to be that same evening at the Saint Antoine gate ; 
 and this force he was to lead to Vincennes. Savary 
 led the gendarmes through the castle gate, and drew 
 them up in the courtyard, cutting off all communica- 
 tion with the outside. He then posted the brigade 
 of infantry on the esplanade, on the side of the park. 
 Meanwhile the military commission that was to try 
 the Duke of Enghien was assembling. It was com- 
 posed as follows : General Hulin, commander of the 
 foot grenadiers of the Consular Guard, president ; five 
 colonels of the Paris garrison, judges ; and a major 
 of the picked gendarmes, secretary. The meeting 
 was held in one of the large rooms of the inhabited 
 portion of the castle ; that is to say, the building 
 over the entrance, towards the park. 
 
 At midnight the unfortunate Prince was examined ; 
 at two o'clock in the morning he appeared before the 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 323 
 
 military commission. The spectators were one of 
 Murat's aides, some officers and gendarmes. Tlie 
 accused had no defender. He answered the ques- 
 tions put to him with calmness and dignity. He con- 
 fessed that he had served against France, and that he 
 was ready to serve again in the same way ; but he 
 denied all affiliation with Pichegru, who, he said, if 
 report was true, employed abominable methods. He 
 concluded by expressing, first by word of mouth, then 
 by writing, his desire to see the First Consul. " My 
 name, my rank," he added, "my way of thinking, and 
 the horrors of my position convince me that Bona- 
 parte will not refuse my request." 
 
 But the victim was mistaken. The orders brought 
 by Savary were peremptory; they provided that, in 
 case of condemnation, — and condemnation was cer- 
 tain, — the sentence should follow at once. Every- 
 thing must be done that very night. The judges, after 
 unanimously convicting the Prince, were willing to 
 send his letter to the First Consul, but that was use- 
 less. 
 
 While they were deliberating about his sentence, 
 the Duke of Enghien had gone back to his room, and 
 there he had lain down on his bed and fallen asleep. 
 When the matter was settled, they came to awaken 
 him and led him away. He was so free from any 
 anticipation of what was about to happen, that as he 
 went down the stairs to the ditch he asked where 
 they were going to take him, but he received no 
 answer. Harrel went in front with a lantern. When 
 
324 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 he felt the cold air rising from below, the unhappy 
 young man j^ressed Harrel's arm and asked, "Are 
 they going to put me in a dungeon?" It was not a 
 dungeon that was opening for him ; it was the grave. 
 When they got out into the ditch, he was stationed 
 before the squad who were to shoot him. Then when 
 the whole truth daAvned before him, he wrote a letter 
 to be sent with a ring and a lock of his hair to 
 Madame de Rohan, and prepared for death like a true 
 heir of the great Conde. When some one proposed 
 that his eyes should be bandaged, he declined with 
 dignity, and, addressing the soldiers who were to 
 shoot him, he said, very gently : " You are French- 
 men. You will, I am sure, do me the great favor not 
 to miss me." Then he fell, his body riddled with 
 balls. 
 
 The day was beginning to dawn when Savary 
 started for Malmaison, where he was to report to 
 Bonaparte what had just taken place. On the way 
 he met R^al, a Councillor of State, who was going, 
 too late, to Vincennes. An order had been sent to 
 him to examine the prisoner with regard to his al- 
 leged complicity with Cadoudal and Pichegru, but 
 he was asleep when the order reached his house ; and 
 he was worn out by some work which had taken sev- 
 eral days and nights. He had given orders to his 
 servants that he was on no account to be disturbed. 
 Thus he had no knowledge of the letter until it was 
 too late to save the victim. 
 
 At Malmaison, Savary at once entered Bonaparte's 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 325 
 
 study. " The First Consul," he says in his Memoirs, 
 "seemed to hear me with great surprise. He could 
 not understand why he had been tried before Real's 
 arrival, for he had sent orders to him to go to Vin- 
 cennes to examine the prisoner. He looked at me 
 with his lynx eyes, and said : ' There is something 
 here I don't understand. That the Commission 
 should have given its verdict on the confession of 
 the Duke of Enghien does not surprise me, but this 
 confession was only made at a trial which should not 
 have taken place until after M. Real had examined 
 him on a matter which it was of importance for us 
 to have cleared up." Then he said again, ' There is 
 something here beyond me. A crime has been com- 
 mitted which leads to nothing ! ' " 
 
 S a vary then went into the drawing-room, where he 
 awaited Madame Bonaparte. His face was very pale 
 and bore marks of agitation. As soon as Josephine ap- 
 peared, she said, "Well, it's over?" "Yes, madame," 
 he answered ; " he died this morning, and, I must say, 
 with great courage. After his death permission was 
 given the gendarmes to take his clothes, liis watch, 
 what money he had on his person ; but no one would 
 touch him. People may say what they please ; it is 
 impossible to see such men die as calmly as one can 
 see others ; and as for me, I find it hard to recover 
 myself." 
 
 Then came Eugene de Beauharnais. " My mother 
 was in tears," he says in his Memoirs, " and was 
 bitterly reproaching the First Consul, who listened 
 
326 ' THE WIFE OF THE FIIiST CONSUL. 
 
 in silence and soon withdrew to his study. In a few 
 moments Caulaincourt entered, just back from Strass- 
 burg. He was surprised to find my mother in dis- 
 tress, and she hastened to state the cause. When he 
 heard the whole story, he beat his brow and pulled 
 out his hair, saying, ' Why was I mixed up in this 
 unhappy business ? ' " 
 
 When Madame de Remusat saw Caulaincourt, she 
 started back. " And you, too," he said, " you are 
 going to hate me, and yet I am only unfortunate, but 
 very unfortunate. In reward for my devotion the 
 First Consul is going to disgrace me. I have been 
 shamefully deceived, and I am a ruined man ! " 
 
 The dinner-hour came ; besides those regularly in 
 attendance, there were present Louis Bonaparte and 
 his wife, Eugene de Beauharnais, Colonel de Caulain- 
 court, and General Hulin. " The sight of this man 
 impressed me most unpleasantly," said Madame de 
 Rdmusat, who was one of the conlpan3^ " The First 
 Consul did not assume any gayety ; on the con- 
 trary, throughout the dinner he remained sunk in 
 deep thought, and we were all very silent. Just as 
 we were about to leave the table, the Consul, as if 
 thinking aloud, said in a harsh, dry voice, 'At any 
 rate, they will see what we are capable of, and I hope 
 that in the future they will leave us alone.' " 
 
 After dinner they went into the drawing-room, and 
 one after another there appeared Joseph Bonaparte, 
 M. Bacciochi and his wife, with M. de Fontanes, 
 Murat, Dubois, the Prefect of Police, some Council- 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 327 
 
 lors of State, and otlier officials. After a long con- 
 versation on many literary and liistorical subjects, the 
 First Consul liad some extracts read from the corre- 
 spondence of Drake, the Engiish minister at Munich, 
 who had had a hand in the recent conspiracies. When 
 the reading was finished, Bonaparte said : " These are 
 undeniable proofs. These people Avant to kindle dis- 
 order in France, and kill the Revolution as embodied 
 in me. I have shown of what it is capable. I have 
 been obliged to defend and avenge it. ... I have 
 shed blood ; I had to do it, simply because bleeding 
 figures in political medicine. I am the man of the 
 State, I am the French Revolution, I say once more, 
 and I shall uphold it." 
 
 This was a gloomy period at Malmaison this week 
 in March, just when the spring was beginning. This 
 brilliant residence, once so animated, so joyful, became 
 a sombre spot. Josephine, generally so affable, grew 
 anxious, fearing both to speak and to keep silence. 
 Bourrienne thus describes a visit wliich he made 
 Thursday, March 22. " On arriving, I was at once 
 taken to her boudoir, where she was sitting with Hor- 
 tense and Madame de Remusat. I found them all 
 three in great dejection. . . . ' Ah ! Bourrienne,' 
 said Josephine when she saw me, 'what a terrible 
 misfortune ! . . . At any rate, no one can say that 
 it's my fault, for I did everything that I could to turn 
 him from this project. He had not said anything to 
 me about it; but you know how I read him, and he 
 admitted everything. He was indifferent to all my 
 
328 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 prayers. I hung about liis neck, I clasped his knees, 
 — " jNIintl your own affairs ! " he shouted in anger, 
 " this is not a Avoman's business." ' " 
 
 Josephine added, in great emotion, "What must 
 people think in Paris? I am sure tliat every one must 
 be cursing him ; for here, even his flatterers seem 
 downcast when they are out of his presence. Ever 
 since yesterday we have been very depressed. And 
 he ! You know what he is when he is not satisfied 
 with himself and yet tries to seem so ; no one dares 
 to speak to him, and we are all in deep gloom. . . . 
 How Savary distressed me yesterday when he came 
 to me to see about something the Duke of Enghien 
 entrusted him Avith before liis death. Here is his 
 portrait and the lock of his hair which he wanted me 
 to send to some one who was very dear to him. Savary 
 almost had tears in his eyes when he told me about 
 the duke's last moments, and when he tried to re- 
 cover himself he said, ' It's no use, madame, one 
 can't see a man like that die and not be moved.' " 
 
 While Josephine was grieving, Talleyrand, the 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs, was giving an entertain- 
 ment to which the whole Diplomatic Body was in- 
 vited. Count Miot de Melito speaks of it in his 
 Memoirs as follows : " Amid all these scenes of terror 
 and alarm, M. de Talleyrand found a way to distin- 
 guish himself by a piece of marked flattery ; he gave 
 a ball three days after the death of the Duke of 
 Enghien. Two months before, Madame de Talley- 
 rand had refused an invitation to a ball to be given 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 329 
 
 by M. cle Cobentzel, tlie Austrian ambassador, on the 
 21st of January, the anniversary of the execution of 
 Louis XYI. How can one dance on that day ? she 
 said, and the Minister put it off to another day. 
 What needs to be said of these scruples and of the 
 indecency of an entertainment given, one might almost 
 say, when the guns were firing which had just killed 
 a relative of the same Louis XVI ? " 
 
 At the end of the week the First Consul left 
 Malmaison and returned to the Tuileries. On Palm 
 Sunday, March 25, mass was celebrated as usual in 
 the chapel of the palace. General de Segur, who Avas 
 present, thus describes the scene : " Bonaparte made 
 his way tlirough the silent croAvd that opened to let 
 him pass. There was no change in his face. During 
 the prayer, when the host was elevated, I watched 
 him with renewed attention. Then, before God, in 
 presence of his victim whom I seemed to see in his 
 gore finding refuge at this Supreme tribunal, still 
 bearing the traces of his swift punishment, I thought 
 in my agonized heart that some remorse or at least 
 some resfret would show itself on the features of a 
 man who had done so cruel a deed; but, whatever 
 may have been his feelings, nothing about him « 
 changed; he remained calm, and through the tears 
 that filled my eyes, I saw his face like that of a stern, 
 impassible judge." 
 
 The mass over, the First Consul, as usual, betook 
 himself to the large rooms of the palace where there 
 ^.waited him every Sunday a throng of courtiers and 
 
330 THE WIFE OF THE FIB ST CONSUL. 
 
 suitors. "I liad just seeu him in the presence of 
 God," adds General de Sdgur, " I wanted to see him in 
 the presence of men, lience I kept close to liim in the 
 audience that followed. His manner was alternately 
 one of forced calm, and of gloom, hut he was more 
 readily approached than Avas usual. He walked slowly 
 up and down the great rooms, more slowly than was 
 his wont, and he himself seemed to notice tliis. He 
 stopped at almost every step, letting the crowd gather 
 about him and saying a few words to everybody. He 
 made continual reference, directly or indirectly, to 
 the night between the 20th and 21st of March. He 
 was evidently sounding })ublic opinion, waiting, even 
 suggesting answers which he hoped would be satis- 
 factory, but he only got one ; it was intended for 
 flattery, but it was so clumsy that he interrupted it 
 and turned his back ; it unintentionally charged him 
 with meeting an attempt at murder with murder 
 itself." 
 
 The arrest of the victim on the soil of Baden 
 inspired the Russian government to make vigorous 
 remonstrances against tliis violation of the territory 
 of the German Empire. The First Consul replied in 
 the Moniteur with an article recalling the assassina- 
 tion of Paul I. At St. Petersburg a funeral service 
 was held for the peace of the soul of the young Conde. 
 On the cenotaph was this inscription : " To the Duke 
 of Enghien, quern devoravit hellua Corsica.'''' 
 
 " The two foes," Chateaubriand said, " had an 
 apparent reconciliation; but the wound which poli- 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 331 
 
 tics made, and insult enlarged, remained in the heart 
 of each. Napoleon thought himself avenged only 
 when he slept at Moscow ; Alexander was satisfied 
 only when he entered Paris." 
 
 An uneasy conscience tormented every one of the 
 men who took part in this terrible affair. Napoleon 
 and every one of his assistants tried to justify the 
 action; and their efforts attest their anxiety. His 
 share in it racked the martyr of St. Helena with cruel 
 memories on his lonely rock ; he kept returning to it 
 continually, and his explanations were contradictory. 
 His companion, the Count of Las Cases, wrote thus 
 in the " Memorial of St. Helena " : " The Emperor 
 often spoke of this subject, and when he did, as on 
 many other occasions, I could see the private citizen 
 struggling with the public man, and the natural senti- 
 ments of his heart contending with his pride and the 
 dignity of his position. In the freedom of intimacy, 
 he did not show indifference to the fate of the unhappy 
 prince. One day, after he had spoken to me of his 
 youth and sad fate, he concluded thus : ' And I have 
 learned since that he favored me ; I have been told 
 that he never spoke of me without expressing admira- 
 tion, and yet that is the way justice is distributed in 
 this world!'" 
 
 That was tlie Avay Napoleon sj)oke of it in the free- 
 dom of private talk, but in the presence of strangers 
 his language was very different : " The Duke of En- 
 ghien and all his allies .had no other aim than to kill 
 me ; I was threatened from all sides and at every 
 
332 THE WIFE OF THE FIItST CONSUL. 
 
 moment. There were infernal machines, conspiracies, 
 ambushes of all sorts. I grew tired of them. I 
 grasped the opportunity to till even London with ter- 
 ror and I succeeded in it. From that day the plotting 
 ceased. And who can find any fault with Avhat I 
 did ? What ! every day from a distance of a hundred 
 and fifty leagues these men could aim their death- 
 blows at me ; no power, no tribunal could protect me, 
 and I was to be denied the natural privilege of meet- 
 ing force with force ? . . . Blood cries for blood ; it 
 is the natural, inevitable, infallible reaction ; unhappy 
 he who provokes it ! ... One must be foolish or 
 mad to imagine that a family could have the strange 
 privilege of attacking me every day, while I should 
 not have the right of retaliation. They certainly 
 could not reasonably suppose themselves superior to 
 the law for the purpose of attacking others, and then 
 reclaim their protection for self-defence; the condi- 
 tions ought to be equal. Personally I had never 
 done anything to any one of them ; ' a great nation 
 had placed me at its head ; almost the whole of Eu- 
 rope had assented to this choice ; my blood after all 
 was not mud, it was time to make it equal to their 
 own." 
 
 That is the way Napoleon talked before strangers, 
 but to his intimates he let fall this confession : " Cer- 
 tainly, if I had known in time certain particulars con- 
 cerning the opinions and character of the prince, and 
 especially if I had seen the letter that he wrote to me, 
 which was not delivered — Heaven knows why — until 
 
DEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 833 
 
 after his cleatli, certainly I slioukl have pardoned him," 
 After recounting this conversation, Las Cases goes on: 
 " And we saw clearly that these words of the Emperor 
 expressed his real feeling and character, and for us 
 alone, for he would have felt humiliated if any one 
 had imagined for a moment that he was trying to lay 
 the blame on any one else or condescending to defend 
 himself. His fear of this or his sensitiveness was 
 such that, when he was speaking to strangers or dic- 
 tating for the public, he Avould limit himself to the 
 assertion that if he had had knowledge of the prince's 
 letter, he should have perhaps pardoned him in view 
 of the great political advantages of such a course. 
 And in writing down his last thoughts, which he 
 knew would be regarded with reverence by his con- 
 temporaries and by posterity, he said on this subject, 
 which he knew was one of great importance to his 
 reputation, that if it were to be done over, he should 
 act in the same way. Such was the man, such the 
 quality of his mind, the nature of his character." 
 
 Before the altar at the mass of the Tuileries, before 
 eternity at Saint Helena, Napoleon tried to harden 
 himself against remorse. He wrote in his will : " I 
 liad the Duke of Enghien arrested and tried, because 
 it was necessary for the security, the interest, and the 
 honor of the French people, when the Count of Artois, 
 by his own confession, was keeping sixty assassins in 
 Paris. In similar circumstances I should do the same 
 thing." Yet those who forgive the great Emperor 
 so many victories cannot forgive this drop of blood. 
 
334 THE WIFE OF THE FIE8T CONSUL. 
 
 The great singer of Napoleon, Victor Hugo, who 
 called Napoleon the sun of which he was the Mem- 
 non, coulcl not forget the moat of Vincennes in the 
 magnificent j^oem in which he sings the dialogue of 
 praise and denunciation. Lamartine, severer even 
 than Chateaubriand, in his " Ode to Bonaparte," has 
 also written this : " His tomb has been built beneath 
 the vaults erected at the Invalides by Louis XIV., 
 where the statues of twelve victories, each carved 
 from a single granite block, and forming part of the 
 massive pillars that support the temple, seem to form 
 the guard of centuries round the porphyry urn that 
 contains his ashes. But in the shadow, seated on his 
 grave, there is an invisible statue, which darkens and 
 dims all the others ; it is the statue of a young man, 
 torn by midnight ruffians from the arms of the woman 
 he loved, from the inviolable asylum in which he 
 thought himself secure, assassinated by the light of 
 a lantern at the foot of the palace of his fathers. A 
 cold curiosity carries the visitor to the battlefields of 
 Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, Leipsic, Waterloo ; 
 he wanders over them with dry eyes ; but one is 
 shown, at a corner of the wall near the foundations 
 of Vincennes, at the bottom of a ditch, a spot cov- 
 ered with nettles and weeds ; he says, ' There it is ! ' 
 he utters a cry, and carries away with him undying 
 pity for the victim and an implacable resentment 
 against the assassin. This resentment is vengeance 
 for the past and a lesson for the future. Let the 
 ambitious, whether soldiers, tribunes, or kings, re- 
 
BEATH OF THE DUKE OF ENGHIEN. 335 
 
 member tliat if tliey have hirelings to do their Avili, 
 and flatterers to excnse them while they reign, there 
 yet comes afterwards a human conscience to judge 
 them, and pity to hate them. The murderer has but 
 one hour; the victim has eternity." 
 
 The crimes of the Legitimists do not justify the 
 imitation of their misdeeds, or render the Duke of 
 Enghien responsible for acts in which he had no part. 
 Humanity is a sad thing ! What great man is abso- 
 lutely pure ? What party is unsullied ? There are 
 stains on Royalists, Repul)licans, Imperialists ; no sun 
 free of spots. We are told that the augurs could not 
 look at one another without laughing ; may we not 
 say that the different parties in France cannot look 
 at one another without shuddering? Why was it 
 that Napoleon, after seizing the Duke of Enghien, to 
 show his power, did not set him free, satisfying him- 
 self with saying, " I might have put you to death ! 
 I forgive you " ? What a better way of laying the 
 foundation of the Empire with this act of clemency ! 
 It would have been a stroke of genius to disclose the 
 plots of the Bourbons, their complicity in detestable 
 conspiracies, and then to set free the heir of the 
 Condes^ in memory of the hero of Rocroy! What 
 true-hearted Royalist would not have admired the 
 great man ? That would have been to act like a hero, 
 a way of disarming hate, of preventing coalitions, of 
 wringing from Europe a cry of gratitude and surprise, 
 of doing something noble, grand, sublime. As a mat- 
 ter of fact, there is nothing more politic or wiser than 
 
336 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 virtue. I am sure tliat often when he recalled the 
 death of the Duke of Enghien, Napoleon must have 
 repented in the bottom of his heart that he had not 
 followed the recommendations of clemency that were 
 urged upon him by Josephine, his best friend. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 
 
 THERE is no city in tlie world where memories 
 are shorter than in Paris. The impression made 
 by the death of the Duke of Enghien was Ijrief as it 
 was deep. As M. Paul de R^musat has said in the 
 preface of his grandmother's Memoirs, " Even in the 
 Royalists, who were absolutely hostile to the govern- 
 ment, this event called forth more grief than indig- 
 nation, so confused were men's ideas upon questions of 
 political justice and statecraft." Yet on the day after 
 the event the First Consul had been struck by the 
 altered faces of those he met. But far from being 
 alarmed, he was anxious to show liimself in public as 
 usual, and he went with his wife to the opera, although 
 some people advised him to wait a little. Madame 
 de Remusat tells us that she accompanied Madame 
 Bonaparte, whose carriage followed close behind that 
 of the First Consul. Usually he did not wait for his 
 wife, but went straight up the staircase to his box ; 
 but this time he waited in the little room behind, 
 giving Josephine time to join him. " She was trem- 
 bling," Madame de Remusat goes on to srj, " and he 
 
 337 
 
338 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 was very pale. He looked at us all, and seemed to 
 be trying to read from our faces what we tliought his 
 reception would be. At last he went forward as if 
 he were charging a battery. He was greeted as usual, 
 whether it was that the sight of him produced its 
 usual effect — for the multitude does not change its 
 habits in a moment — or tliat the police had taken 
 precautionary measures. I had been much afraid that 
 he would not be cheered, and when I perceived that 
 he was, I gave a sigh of relief." 
 
 March 27, a week after the death of the Duke of 
 Enghien, the Senate, in response to a communication 
 concerning the criminal correspondence of the Eng- 
 lish emissaries in Germany, said to Bonaparte, " You 
 have delivered us from the chaos of the jDast, you 
 make us grateful for the benefits of the present; 
 guarantee to us the future. Great man, complete 
 your work ; make it as immortal as your glory." The 
 First Consul's reply to this official overture was meas- 
 ured; he said that he would reflect upon it; but 
 every one knew that the Empire was imminent. As 
 Miot de Melito has said, the people of Paris had no 
 recollections of the Bourbons or any love for them ; 
 they were entirely lost from sight. And, unfortu- 
 nately, the Parisians had been too long accustomed 
 to bloody scenes to find anything in the events at 
 Vincennes more extraordinary than in many others 
 which they had witnessed. " The spring was begin- 
 ning, and fashion had brought back the walks to 
 Longchamps with more than their old-time brilliancy. 
 
LAST JDAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 339 
 
 After criticising the show of faces and fashions, peo- 
 ple began to discuss the great political change which 
 was about to take place." 
 
 The First Consul and his wife left the Tuileries 
 for Saint Cloud, where there was to be a general re- 
 hearsal of the great spectacular drama entitled The 
 Empire. The tribunes were transformed into cour- 
 tiers ; the red caps gave place to red heels. Nothing 
 was thought of but etiquette, high-sounding titles, 
 and court uniforms. The time of revolutionary 
 songs had gone. How those rough Brutuses must 
 have laughed at themselves ! And the Royalists, who 
 were rivalling the flatteries of the regicides, must 
 have been surprised by their own recantations. From 
 the moment when the palace doors were reopened 
 they felt themselves drawn thither by an irresistible 
 force ; for in the nature of great lords there is, as 
 some one has truly said, a catlike quality which keeps 
 them attached to the same house, whoever may dwell 
 in it. As to the poor Duke of Enghien, after a few 
 weeks no one ever mentioned him ; he was buried in 
 the same oblivion as the victims of the Terror. The 
 Parisians hate gloomy memories. Moreover, the 
 bloody deed at Vincennes chd not prevent the Pope 
 from coming, before the end of the year, to crown 
 the new Emperor. Was not this ceremony to be one 
 of the greatest religious formalities that had ever 
 taken place in the history of the Catholic Church? 
 Could one be more rigid than the Vicar of Christ? 
 
 It is easy to imagine how this vision of a future 
 
340 THE WIFE OF THE FIBST CONSUL. 
 
 court excited longings, jealousy, ambition, flattery, 
 and intrigue. Every one hastened to tlie hunt for 
 j)lace and money. The Republican familiarity, the 
 pretended austerity of the modern Spartans, had 
 wholly disappeared. It was curious to observe how 
 promptly the newly rich people turned themselves 
 into aristocrats ; it was they who were the hardest to 
 please in luxury, in their fare, in their liveries. They 
 were the more eager to shine, that their shining was 
 a thing of new growth. They who ought to have 
 been astonished at this good fortune, instead of trying 
 to astonish others, only thought of dazzling others, 
 and were simple enough to think that the whole world 
 admired their splendor. The men were vain of their 
 laced coats, and the women rejoiced in ordering their 
 ball-dresses, their trains, and their jewels. 
 
 Amid all this monarchial excitement, which was the 
 fashion and sole interest of the day, there was one 
 person noticed, who was conspicuous for his opposi- 
 tion ; for, having a few months earlier been interested 
 solely in dynastic plans, he had suddenly become 
 Republican again, contrary to his interests. This man 
 ]iad been the leading supporter of the coup d'etat of 
 Brumaire, and was the own brother of the future Em- 
 peror, — Lucien Bonaparte. To get to the bottom of 
 this new transformation, we must again ask : Where 
 is the woman ? The woman was a very pretty, very 
 attractive widow, twenty-six years old, Alexandrine 
 de Bleschamps, whose husband, M. Jouberthon, after 
 having been a stock-broker in Paris, had died in Saint 
 
LAST DAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 341 
 
 Domingo, whither he had followed the French exj^e- 
 dition. Lucien had fallen in love with this woman, 
 and, in spite of the formal commands of the First 
 Consul, had married her. May 24, 1803, a son had 
 been born to them, who later was to marry the Prin- 
 cess Zena'ide Julie, daughter of King Joseph. Napo- 
 leon looked upon Lucien's marriage as most inappro- 
 priate and inadmissible, and he was very anxious to 
 annul it. What he wanted was to marry Lucien to 
 Queen Marie Louise, the third daughter of Charles 
 IV., King of Spain, and the widow of the King of 
 Etruria, Louis I., the first king whom he had set on a 
 throne. Lucien was inflexible, and obstinately re- 
 fused his brother's most brilliant offers ; he preferred 
 a woman's love to a crown. 
 
 According to Count Miot de Melito, Joseph Bona- 
 parte was then entrusted with the following commis- 
 sion. He was to try to persuade Lucien to write to 
 the First Consul a letter promising not to allow his 
 wife to bear his name, not to present her to his family, 
 and to Avait until time and circumstances should per- 
 mit with regard to this marriage a legal publicity, 
 which, moreover, was to depend on his brother's con- 
 sent. For his part he would consent to see Lucien 
 again as if nothing had happened and would let him 
 live with this woman. The negotiation fell through. 
 
 Napoleon was anxious to make one last effort, and 
 he had an interview with his brother which he 
 thought Avould be decisive. This took place at Saint 
 Cloud, late one evening. About midnight the First 
 
342 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 Consul came into the drawing-room, and said, " It's 
 all over ! I have just quarrelled with Lucien, and 
 ordered him out of my sight." When Josephine 
 tried to interfere in behalf of her brother-in-law, from 
 whom she had suffered a great deal, he said, " You 
 are very kind to plead for him," and he kissed her 
 tenderly. Then he was heard to say, "It's hard to 
 find in one's own family opposition to such great 
 interests. I shall have to isolate myself from every 
 one and to depend on myself alone. Well, I shall 
 suffice for myself, and Josephine will console me for 
 everything." 
 
 What added to Napoleon's distress was this, that 
 Madame Letitia Bonaparte, his mother, sided with 
 Lucien, and went with him to Italy, where he with- 
 drew in the spring of 1804 to escape the importuni- 
 ties and reproaches of his all-powerful brother. As 
 it was, Napoleon recommended Madame Letitia and 
 Lucien to the friendly offices of Pius VII., saying 
 that his brother had gone to Rome out of love for 
 the arts, and his mother on account of her health. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, although he did not break with 
 Napoleon as Lucien had done, showed that he was 
 not contented. " He was dissatisfied," Thiers has 
 said, " and no one would guess the reason if history 
 were not to take pains to record it. He was sore 
 because the First Consul was anxious to appoint 
 him President of the Senate, and he had refused 
 that high position with an air of offended dignity 
 when M. Cambact^res had offered it to him at the 
 
LAST DAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 343 
 
 suggestion of the First Consul. Bonaparte, who de- 
 tested idleness, had sent him word in that case to 
 seek for greatness where he himself had found it ; 
 that is to say, with the army. Joseph, appointed 
 colonel of the 4th of the Line, left for Boulogne 
 at the moment when the great question of the re-es- 
 tablishment of the monarchy came up for discussion." 
 As for Jerome Bonaparte, the youngest of Napo- 
 leon's brothers, he was in rebellion against his brother, 
 like Lucien, and for a similar reason. In 1803, after 
 the renewal of the war, after the treaty of Amiens, 
 Jerome, at that time a naval officer, had been chased 
 by English ships, and had landed in the United 
 States. At Baltimore he had fallen in love with the 
 daughter of one of the richest and most respectable 
 citizens of that place. Miss Elizabeth Paterson. He 
 had communicated to M. Picliou, Consul-General of 
 France at Washington, his intention to marry this 
 young woman, who was very charming, and the mar- 
 riage had taken place. Jerome, who was born' 
 November 15, 1784, was not then quite twenty years 
 old, and the law of September 20, 1792, declared null 
 and void every marriage contracted by a person less 
 than twenty years old, without the consent of both 
 parents. It was only February 22, 1805, that, by 
 command of the Emperor, Madame Letitia Bonaparte 
 placed in the hands of M. Raguideau, notary, a pro- 
 test against her son's marriage. In 1804, Jerome, 
 whose resistance to his .brother's commands was des- 
 tined to be of but brief duration, had sworn that he 
 
344 THE WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 would not for an empire repudiate a woman whom 
 he esteemed as well as loved. Napoleon, who was 
 dreaming of crowns for his brothers, was annoyed 
 at this opposition, and excluded Jerome, as well as 
 Lucien, from the right of succession to the Empire. 
 
 Thus the situation of the Bonaparte family did not 
 favor the establishment of the principle of hereditary 
 succession. Napoleon was married to a woman who 
 could have no children. His eldest brother, Joseph, 
 had no sons ; and his other brothers, Lucien and Je- 
 rome, had just contracted marriages which were, in 
 his eyes, misalliances which could not be pardoned. 
 
 There was then left only his brother Louis to per- 
 petuate the imperial race. By his marriage with 
 Hortense de Beauharnais he had one son, Napoleon 
 Charles, born in Paris, October 10, 1802, who was 
 destined to die at the Hague, May 5, 1807. Napo- 
 leon was very fond of this child, who scandalmongers 
 pretended was his own, and he desired to make liim 
 the heir to the Empire, excluding Joseph and Louis, 
 but Louis offered an insurmountable opposition to 
 this plan. " Wh}^" he asked his brother, " why 
 must I resign to my son a part of your succession ? 
 Why do I deserve to be disinherited ? What will be 
 my condition, when this child, having become yours, 
 shall find himself in a position superior to mine, inde- 
 pendent of me, holding the place next to you, and 
 eying me with uneasiness, or possibly even with 
 contempt? No, I shall never consent to it; and 
 rather than consent to bow my head before my son, I 
 
LAST BAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 345 
 
 shall leave France and take Napoleon with me, and 
 we shall see if, in the face of the world, you will dare 
 to take a child from his father ! " 
 
 The Monarchy was not yet restored ; the crown, 
 with its succession a matter of premature dispute, 
 was not yet placed on the First Consul's head ; 
 and already we see in the embryonic court the 
 same passions, jealousies, and dissension that we find 
 in the . court of an old kingdom, or of an old estab- 
 lished empire. But Napoleon, whose mighty figure 
 eclipsed and dominated everything, soon caused all 
 the cupidity and rivalries of his courtiers to be for- 
 gotten. Joseph, Lucien, Louis, and Jerome, who all 
 were dependent on their brother's favor, Avere soon 
 lost in the background. Lucien, in his voluntary 
 exile in Rome, indulged in a few lamentations, but 
 his voice found no echo. He wrote : " Why has not 
 Bonaparte, that great general, remained steadfast to 
 philosophic and humanitarian ideas? I can posi- 
 tively affirm that they were the first belief of his 
 youth and of a soul liberal by nature. ... A horde 
 of improvised flatterers preferred the childish and 
 servile dignity of an absolute ruler to the wise and 
 austere representation of a popular chief magistrate. 
 My admiration for Washington's character does not 
 prevent my thinking that he would have found it 
 difficult to withstand the current which my brother 
 has not wished, or has not been able, to resist. If all 
 the fellow-soldiers of the American hero, and the offi- 
 cials who had an equal share in founding the Ameri- 
 
346 THE WIFE OF THE FIE ST CONSUL. 
 
 can Republic, had agreed to substitute a crown for 
 the Presidential toga, what would the modern Cin- 
 cinnatus have done?" And again he wrote as fol- 
 lows : " Yes, Napoleon, you were without doubt 
 guilty of absorbing our public liberties in the splen- 
 dor of your militaiy glory, but it must in fairness be 
 acknowledged that they were already destroyed by 
 those Avho should have been their guardians and 
 defenders ; and never, it must be said, was any great 
 political body so openly abject as Avas the majority of 
 the Senate, which could not hear without a blush, 
 and without applying it to itself, that line of Racine 
 in which he says that the ready servility of the 
 Roman Senate wearied Tiberius." 
 
 The great bodies of the State began to rival one 
 another in monarchical enthusiasm. A tribune on 
 the 28th of April proposed an hereditary empire. On 
 the 3d of May the Avhole Tribunate, with the excep- 
 tion of Carnot, adopted the proposal. All the mem- 
 bers of the legislative body who happened to be in 
 Paris agreed to it most eagerly. The next day the 
 Senate tried to disprove the statement that the Tribu- 
 nate had taken the first steps, and boasted that they 
 had themselves made the beginning six weeks earlier. 
 As to the Council of State, it had accepted it by 
 twenty votes out of twenty-seven. At its meeting on 
 May 18, the Senate adopted a Senatus-consultum as 
 follows : " The following proposition will be presented 
 to the French people : ' The French people desires the 
 hereditary succession of the Imperial chgnity in the 
 
LAST BAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 347 
 
 direct, natural, legitimate, and adoptive line of Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, and in the direct, natural, legitimate 
 line of Joseph Bonaparte and Louis Bonaparte.' " As 
 soon as the vote was taken, every senator rushed to 
 his carriage to drive to Saint Cloud, hastening thither 
 to see the new sovereign and to be seen of him, with 
 their faces full of devotion, joy, and admiration. Ten 
 years later these men were to assume a very different 
 attitude when they had learned the difference between 
 the setting and the rising sun, as well as the fact that 
 in France more than anj^^vhere else a sovereign's first 
 duty is to be fortunate. Now, however, everything 
 was radiant with joy ; it was in the spring, the weather 
 was faultless, and Napoleon was surer than ever that 
 he controlled fate. The more it had given, the more 
 he wished to ask, and his demands were to know no 
 bounds, for he regarded it as his servant who could 
 refuse him nothing. At the moment when the Senate 
 came to salute him with his new title of Emperor, he 
 was standing in uniform in the magnificent Gallery 
 of Apollo decorated with mythological frescos by 
 Mignard, and brilliant with all the pomp of the great 
 century. Josephine, joyful and uneasy at the same 
 time, was by her husband's side, modestly sharing his 
 triumph. 
 
 Cambac^r^s, as the spokesman of the Senate, uttered 
 a formal speech, which began thus : " Sire, the affec- 
 tion and gratitude of the French people have for four 
 years confided to your Majesty the reins of govern- 
 ment, and the different bodies of the State entrusted 
 
348 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 to yon the choice of a successor. The imposing title 
 wliich is given to yon to-day is nothing more than 
 a tribute which the nation pays to its own dignity 
 and to the need it feels of offering to you every day 
 the testimony of a respect and devotion which every 
 day sees increasing." And he thus concluded his 
 speech : " Happy the nation which after so many 
 troubles finds a man capable of pacifying the storm 
 of passions, of conciliating every interest, of harmo- 
 nizing all the voices ! If it is one of the principles 
 of GUI' Constitution that the part of the decree which 
 establishes an hereditary government should be sub- 
 mitted to the jDCople, the Senate has thought that it 
 should request your Imperial Majesty to consent that 
 the necessary measures should be taken at once ; and 
 for the glory as well as for the happiness of the 
 French Republic, it proclaims at this very moment, 
 Napoleon Emperor of the French." At once enthu- 
 siastic applause broke out in the Gallery of Apollo, 
 as well as in other parts of the palace, even in the 
 courtyards and gardens. 
 
 The multitude, in its credulity and optimism, im- 
 agined that the Empire was a talisman, a panacea, 
 curing all woes and bringing every benefit. This 
 cry of " Long live the Emperor ! " which was to be 
 heard on so many battle-fields, now filled the air for 
 the first time. Napoleon, who had attained his object, 
 hides his pride and exultation beneath an impassible 
 calmness. One would say that he was born to the 
 throne, so readilv does he adapt himself to the part 
 
LAST DAYS OF THE CONSULATE. 349 
 
 of a monarch, sucli obedience, respect, and devotion 
 does he find abont him. As soon as silence prevailed 
 he spoke thus in reply to Cambaceres : " Everything 
 which can contribute to my country's happiness is 
 intimately connected with my happiness. I accept 
 the title which you consider important to the nation's 
 glory ; I submit to asking the sanction of the people 
 to the law of hereditary succession; I hope that 
 France will never repent the honors it bestows on 
 my family. In any event, my spirit would no longer 
 be with my posterity whenever it should cease to 
 deserve the love and confidence of the grand nation." 
 Then it was the turn of the new Empress to receive 
 the homage of the Senate. Cambaceres addressed 
 her in these terms : " Madame, the Senate has still 
 an agreeable duty to perform, that of offering to your 
 Imperial INIajesty the homage of its respect and the 
 expression of the gratitude of the French people. 
 Yes, Madame, France makes known the good you 
 are never tired of doing. It says that, always acces- 
 sible to the unfortunate, you never exercise your 
 influence over the head of the State, save to console 
 their miser}^, and that to the pleasure of obliging 
 them your Majesty adds that amiable delicacy which 
 makes gratitude sweeter and the benefit more pre- 
 cious. This happy disposition is a sure token that 
 the name of the Empress Josephine will be the signal 
 of consolation and hope, and, as the virtues of Napo- 
 leon will always serve as an example to his successors 
 to teach them the art of governing nations, so the 
 
350 THE WIFE OF THE FIRST CONSUL. 
 
 undying memory of your kindness will teach their 
 august companions that the art of drying tears is the 
 surest way of ruling over men's hearts. The Senate 
 congratulates itself on being the first to greet your 
 Imperial Majesty, and he who has the honor to be its 
 spokesman presumes to hope that you will deign to 
 count him in the number of your most faithful 
 servants." 
 
 Josephine, the modest and gracious Creole, was then 
 exalted to the rank of a sovereign, and the prophecy 
 of the black fortune-teller was verified. France was 
 about to sanction by an almost unanimous vote — five 
 and a half millions to two thousand — the Napoleonic 
 dynasty. The few objectors who might have wished 
 to put themselves in the way of this triumphal chariot, 
 stepped aside. Amid the chorus of noisy aj^plause 
 which burst out everywhere, no discordant note was 
 heard. In all quarters there was nothing but flattery, 
 congratulations, the flourish of trumpets, in towns, 
 in the country, under gilded ceilings, under the roofs 
 of huts, in public places, in the camps ; and yet, 
 though she had reached this height, Josephine was 
 rather anxious than happy. She did not care to rise 
 to such a height, and the sight of the abyss from tliis 
 lofty elevation made her giddy. She felt that as her 
 fortune grew her happiness diminished, and that a 
 crown would lie heavy on her l^row. It was enough 
 for her to be a loving woman. She had no need to 
 be an Imperial Highness. The sceptre was an idle 
 toy ; a fan sufficed her. 
 
LAST BAYS OF -THE CONSULATE. 351 
 
 While Napoleon's sisters vv'ere rejoicing at the 
 thought that they were to be princesses, and their 
 brother an Emperor, Josephine, tormented by this 
 lofty rank, could not accustom herself to the idea 
 that she was succeeding the unfortunate Marie 
 Antoinette on the throne of France, and her unex- 
 pected sovereignty seemed to her an anomaly, almost 
 a usurpation. In her eyes the throne was surrounded 
 with snares ; and her instinct was right. Something 
 said to her: Nothing of all this will last, nothing 
 except sorrow. 
 
 Strange lesson for human pride, clear proof of the 
 nothingness of glory ; ignorance was clearer-sighted 
 than genius ; the eyes of the dove saw further than 
 the eyes of the eagle ! Napoleon despised men who 
 took counsel of women, and yet he would have done 
 well, and would probal)ly have escaped his ruin, had 
 he listened to Josephine. What did she advise him? 
 Moderation, clemency, fidelity to the Republic to 
 which he owed his unexampled good fortune. If she 
 had had more influence over him, he would not have 
 put to death the Duke of Enghien, an incident which, 
 though forgotten in France, was to be, as Thiers has 
 pointed out, the main cause of a third general war 
 and the inspiration of the successive coalitions which 
 finally crushed the hero of so manj^ battles. He 
 would not have renounced the glorious title of First 
 Consul for another, more majestic, but less lasting ; 
 he would not have mad« his brothers kings of a day ; 
 he would have remained tlie first citizen of a great 
 
^52 THt: WIFE OF THE FIEST CONSUL. 
 
 Republic. He would have controlled his genius, his 
 ambition, and his pride. But instead of letting him- 
 self be controlled by his wife's gentler charm, the 
 giant, fascinated, intoxicated by his own glory, made 
 of his existence a vast romance which could end only 
 in a catastrophe as great as his triumph. Such was 
 the mockery of Fate ! The humble croole judged 
 events more wisely than the great Emperor, and said 
 to herself, that if the wife of the First Consul had 
 been less happy than the wife of the Citizen Bona- 
 parte, the Emj)ress of the French, the Queen of Italy, 
 would be more wretched than the wife of the First 
 Consul. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abrantes, Duchess of, her " History 
 of Paris Drawiug-rooms, "quoted, 
 45, 50 ; her writings, 1G5. 
 
 Acting at Malmaison, 119 et scq. 
 
 " Almanack of the Nineteenth Cen- 
 tury," 29. 
 
 Auue, Sergeant, Napoleon's letter 
 to, 49. 
 
 Ballad sung in the streets concern- 
 ing the infernal machine, 95. 
 
 Bastille, festival of the taking of, GG. 
 
 Beauharnais, Mile, de, her tomb at 
 Reuil, 2 ; receives Napoleon at 
 Malmaison after "Waterloo, 5 ; re- 
 fused entrance at Malmaison, 10 
 her acting at ^Malmaison, 119, 124 
 her early life, 129 ; at school, 130 
 Napoleon's affection for her, 131 
 her poetic nature, 132 ; her prefer- 
 ence for Duroc, 134 ; marriage 
 of, 142. See also Madame Louis 
 Bonaparte. 
 
 Belgium, Napoleon's journey to, 
 267 et seq. 
 
 Be'nezech, State-Councillor, 42. 
 
 Beruadotte, General, his attitude 
 to Napoleon, 296. 
 
 Bonaparte, Madame (mere), favors 
 Lucien's marriage, 342; protests 
 against Jerome's, 343. 
 
 Bonaparte, Caroline, her marriage, 
 23 et seq.; her appearance, 24, 
 143. 
 
 Bonaparte, Jerome, his marriage to 
 Miss Paterson, 343. 
 
 Bonaparte, Joseph, dissatisfaction 
 of, 342. 
 
 Bonaparte, Louis, 1.34; marriage 
 of, 142 ; his suspicious character, 
 147 et seq. 
 
 Bonaparte, Madame Louis, her un- 
 congenial marriage, 144 ; at Mal- 
 maison, 14G ; odious suspicions 
 of, 147; birth of her son, 148; 
 her sufferings and faults, 151. 
 
 Bonaparte, Lucien, balls at his 
 l^alace, 53; his speech at the 
 Bastille celebration, 67; in the 
 temple of Mars, 73 ; his marriage, 
 341; and alienation from Napo- 
 leon, 341 ; succession of his son, 
 344. 
 
 Bonaparte, Pauline, her beauty, 
 285; her marriage to General 
 Leclerc, 277; accompanies him 
 to Saint Domingo, 279; her de- 
 votion to him, 279 ; her grief for 
 his death, 281 ; marries Prince 
 Borghese, 282. 
 
 Borghese, Princess. See Pauline 
 Bonaparte. 
 
 Bourrienne, as an actor, 120; de- 
 nounces the calumnies respecting 
 Napoleon and Hortense, 149. 
 
 Cadoudal, Georges, the conspirator, 
 85; captui-e of, 303; his birth 
 and career, 304; intervievs^ with 
 Napoleon, 305; organizes a con- 
 spiracy, 306; returns to Paris, 
 307. 
 
 Cambacores, his speech to Napo- 
 leon conferring the Imperial title, 
 348. 
 
 Campan, Madame, 125 ; her board- 
 353 
 
854 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ing-school at Saint Germain, 130; 
 supports Louis Bonaparte's mar- 
 riage to Hortense, 135; letter of, 
 to Hortense on her marriage, 
 141. 
 
 Ceracelii and Arena, the conspira- 
 tors, 86. 
 
 Chaptal, M., his fete in honor of 
 the King of Etruria, 108. 
 
 Chariot, Major, abducts the Duke 
 of Enghien, 310. 
 
 Chateaubriand, return of, to Paris, 
 GO; on tlie charms of society in 
 Consular Paris, 101; his descrip- 
 tion of Talma, 103; his "Genius 
 of Christianity," 175. 
 
 Concordat, establishment of, 170; 
 ceremonies at Notre Dame, 170 ; 
 ladies present at, 171. 
 
 Conspiracies against Napoleon, 85 
 et seq., 300 et seq. 
 
 Dalmas's retort to Nai^oleon, 173. 
 
 Dologrouki, Princess, letters of, 
 quoted, 44. 
 
 Duroc, 133, commissioned as Gen- 
 eral of division, 138. 
 
 Emigres, the, and Napoleon, 180. 
 Empire, the word used in tlie days 
 
 of the Republic, 08 ; the proposed, 
 
 34G; consummated, 347. 
 Enghien, Duke of, 311 ; his birth 
 
 and career, 313; at Ettenheim, 
 
 313 ; his arrest determined, 315 ; 
 
 abducted from Ettenheim, 317 ; 
 
 taken to Vincennes, 311, 320; his 
 
 trial, 323; his execution, 324; 
 
 funeral service for him at St. 
 
 Petersburg, 320. 
 England fomenting conspiracies 
 
 against Napoleon, 30(i. 
 Etruria, King of, visit of, in Paris, 
 
 104 ; entertainments in honor of, 
 
 107 et seq. 
 
 Festival of Gfeneral Peace, the. 111. 
 
 Garat, the singer, 102 ; Baroness de 
 Kriidener's devotion to, 103. 
 
 Genlis, Madam de, return of, to 
 
 Paris, 61. 
 Grunstein, General de, 316. 
 
 Hainguerlot, M., 56. 
 
 riarville, JNIadame d', 46. 
 
 Hohenlinden, victory of, 290. 
 
 Hortense. See Mile, de Beauhar- 
 nais. 
 
 Hulot, Madame, incensed with Na- 
 poleon, 2!)1. 
 
 Hugo, Victor, his poem on Napo- 
 leon, 217, 334. 
 
 Infernal machine, the, 85 et seq. ; 
 street ballad concerning, 95. 
 
 Josephine, her tomb at Reuil, 1 ; 
 death of, at Malmaison, 4 ; her 
 freedom from ambition, 32 ; her 
 receptions at the Tuileries, 44 
 et seq.; affection of Bonapai-te 
 for, 65 ; her life at jMalmaison, 
 78 ; her remarkable social tact, 
 S3 ; her first premonitions of the 
 divorce, 96; her fondness for 
 dress and pleasure, 104; her de- 
 light in rustic scenes, 125 ; her 
 affection for Malmaison, 12() ; 
 jealousy of, 150 ; at ease with the 
 emigres, 183 ; her forebodings, 
 191 ; begs Napoleon not to be a 
 king, 192 ; her popularity in 1803, 
 2.'54; her charm, 236; her kind- 
 ness, 237; her faults, 239; Napo- 
 leon's tribute to her qualities, 
 242 ; accompanies Napoleon on 
 the journey to Belgium, 267 ; her 
 queenly bearing, 271, 276; her 
 tact and affability, 292 ; informs 
 Madame de Remusat of the fate 
 of the Duke of Enghien, 319 ; her 
 distress at the Duke of Enghien 's 
 execution, 327; declared Empress, 
 349. 
 
 Junot, General, 153 et seq. 
 
 Junot, Madame, 153; anecdote of 
 Napoleon and, 155 et seq. See 
 Duchess of Abrantes. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 355 
 
 Kriidener, the Baroness de, her 
 influence on the destiny of Na- 
 poleon, 103. 
 
 Lamartine sings the denunciation 
 
 of Napoleon's murder of the 
 
 Duke of Eughien, 334. 
 Lameth, Madame de, 4G. 
 Lauriston, Madame de, 46. 
 La Rochefoucauld, Madame de, 
 
 45. 
 La Valette, Madame de, 46. 
 Leelerc, General, his marriage to 
 
 Pauline Bonaparte, 277 ; sails for 
 
 Saint Domingo, 279; his death, 
 
 280. 
 Lemoinne, M. John, criticism of 
 
 Napoleon, 257. 
 
 Malmaison, 3 et seq. ; sale of and 
 subsequent history, 11 et seq.; 
 sports at, 81 ; the unceremonious 
 life of Bonaparte at, 75 et seq.; 
 description of the house and 
 grounds of, 76 et seq.; Napoleon's 
 favorite resort, 80 ; enlarged and 
 beautified, 115; destruction of 
 the park, 125. 
 
 Marengo, victory of, its impor- 
 tance to Napoleon, 03. 
 
 Mechin, Madame, 55. 
 
 Metternieh, Prince, at Saint Cloud, 
 1815, 213. 
 
 Military reviews of the First Con- 
 sul, 47 et .'ieq. 
 
 Mouiteur, the, on the opera balls, 
 57. 
 
 Montesson, Marchioness of, her 
 entertainments, 109; ball given 
 by, in honor of Hortense, 144. 
 
 Moreau, General, the cause of his 
 hatred of Napoleon, 288; wins 
 the battle of Hohenlinden, 290; 
 his hostility to Napoleon, 296; 
 his insolence to the men of the 
 old regime, 298; his arrest, 29i», 
 301. 
 
 Moreau, Madame, her jealousy of 
 Napoleon, 288; her marriage to 
 
 General Moreau, 290; her accom- 
 plishments, 291. 
 
 Mun, M. de, 134. 
 
 Murat, his marriage to Caroline 
 Bonaparte, 23 et seq.; his charac- 
 ter, 25; his marriage solemnized, 
 143. 
 
 Napoleon at Malmaison, 5 ; his pro- 
 posal to the Provisional Govern- 
 ment, 7 ; bis departure from Mal- 
 maison, 9; as First Consul, 22; 
 his aversion to Murat, 25 ; installs 
 himself in the Tuileries, 31 et 
 .'<eq.; entrance in state into the 
 Tuileries, 33 et seq. ; his apart- 
 ments, 41 ; society of his court, 
 43 et seq. ; his ascendancy, 47 ; 
 his tact with soldiers, 48; at 
 Lucien Bonaparte's ball, 55; at 
 Paris after INIarengo, 03 et seq. ; 
 his affection for Josephine, 05; 
 his life at Malmaison, 80; con- 
 spiracies against, 85 ; the infernal 
 machine, 89 et seq. ; his sisters 
 at the head of society, 101 ; his 
 treatment of the King of Etruria, 
 105 ; bis fondness for theatrical 
 performances at Malmaison, 121 ; 
 desires a more magnificent resi- 
 dence than Malmaison, 127; fa- 
 vors Duroc's marriage to Hor- 
 tense, 134; his account of Louis 
 and the calumnies concerning 
 Hortense and himself, 150; his 
 religion, 167; his policy with the 
 emigres, ISO et seq. ; his double 
 nature, 181; afraid of women, 
 183; his plan for controlling the 
 nobility, 185 ; his absolute power, 
 187 ; Consul for life, 188 ; his 
 fears of the Bourbons, 189 ; as- 
 sumes the name Napoleon, 195; 
 his remains bi-ought back to 
 Paris bj^ the Bourbons, 217 ; most 
 truly himself as First Consul, 
 218; St. Amaiid's estimate of 
 bis character, 219 et seq. ; w<as he 
 religious? 219 et seq.; was he 
 
356 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 kind? 222; did he lilce women? 
 226; was lie a man of intelli- 
 gence? 228 ; had he imagination ? 
 229; a great man, 2ol; his daily 
 hahits, 240 ; his affection lor Jo- 
 sephine cooled, 24:1 ; the changes 
 of opinion concerning, 253; his 
 angry demonstration to Lord 
 Whit worth, 263; his journey to 
 Belgium, 2(56 et seq. ; his rude- 
 ness to Madame Hulot, 291; his 
 dislike to Madame Moreau, 292 ; 
 unable to hide his antii>athies, 
 292; his horror of rivalry, 293; 
 his anxiety for Cadoudal's ar- 
 rest, 304; his interview with 
 him, 305 ; anxiety of, at the time 
 of the conspiracy, 309 ; his grow- 
 ing irritation, 313 ; determines to 
 abduct the Duke of Enghieu, 315 ; 
 signs his death warrant, 322 ; his 
 demeanor after the execution, 
 325; his impassiveness, 329; de- 
 fends himself and admits his 
 fault, 331 ; quarrels with Lucien, 
 342; the title of Emperor be- 
 stowed upon him, 347. 
 Napoleon III. refused entrance at 
 Malmaison, 10. 
 
 Opera balls in Paris, 56. 
 Ordener, Colonel, 316. 
 
 Paris at the beginning of the Con- 
 sulate, 52 et seq. ; dancing in, at 
 the beginning of the Consulate, 
 56; in 1801, 98 et seq.; the new 
 society imitates the old nobility, 
 99. 
 
 Permon, Madame de, 152 et seq. 
 
 Perregaux, M., 55. 
 
 Pichegru, General, arrest of, .303; 
 reaches Paris, .307; his interview 
 with Moreau, .308. 
 
 Pontmartin, Count Armand de, his 
 defence of Napoleon, 257. 
 
 Quinet, Edgar, his description of 
 the feeling at the begiiming of 
 the Consulate, 52; quoted, 167. 
 
 Re'al, M., arrives too late to save 
 the Duke of Enghien, 324. 
 
 Recamier, M., 56. 
 
 Kecamier, Madame, and Lucien 
 Bonaparte, 53; enthusiasm over 
 her beauty, 102. 
 
 Regnault, Madame, 55. 
 
 Rcmusat, Charles de, his eulogy of 
 Napoleon, 253. 
 
 Re'rausat, Madame de, 46 ; quoted, 
 147, 148 ; her description of Jose- 
 phine's personal charm, 236; her 
 birth and station, 244 et seq. ; 
 Napoleon liked to talk with her, 
 245; her attractions, 246; her 
 adventure with Napoleon, 248; 
 destroys her diary, 251 ; her 
 Memoirs, 252; her death, 254; 
 literary value of her Memoirs, 
 255. 
 
 Rohan, Princess de, 314; follows 
 the Duke of Enghien and is ar- 
 rested, 318. 
 
 Reuil, funeral adornments of Jose- 
 phine and Hortense in the church 
 of, 1. 
 
 Saint Cloud, its present aspect, 197 ; 
 review of its history, 201 ; de- 
 struction of in 1871, 205; its 
 magnificent embellishments, 206 ; 
 etiquette and household, 208; the 
 chapel and theatre, 209 ; pai-k of, 
 210; Napoleon's room at, 211; 
 Prussians' occupation of, in 1815, 
 213. 
 
 Saint Germain, the Faubourg, the 
 great families of, 178 et seq. 
 
 St. Rejant's infernal machine, 88. 
 
 Savary, Colonel, watching for con- 
 spirators at Biville, .313; sent 
 with the oi'der for the execution 
 of the Duke of Enghein, 322. 
 
 Seguin, M., 55. 
 
 Segiir, General de, receives his ap- 
 pointment from Napoleon, 212; 
 his account of Moreau's rudeness, 
 298. 
 
 Talhouet, Madame de, 46. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 357 
 
 Talleyrand entertains the King of 
 Etruria, 107 ; gives a ball after 
 the death of the Duke of Enghien, 
 328. 
 
 Talma, a personal friend of Napo- 
 leon, 103. 
 
 The'atre Fran^ais, the, 104. 
 
 Theatre erected at Malmaison, 119. 
 
 Thebaudeau, his Memoirs on the 
 Consulate, quoted, 42. 
 
 Thiers quoted, 166, 168. 
 
 Thumery, Marquis de, with the 
 Duke of Enghien, 314. 
 
 Tuileries, the, becomes the residence 
 of the First Consul, 33; apart- 
 ments of Napoleon and Josephine 
 in, 41 et seq. ; society of, under 
 the First Consul, 43. 
 
 Vincennes, castle of, the Duke of 
 
 Enghien at, 321. 
 Visconti, Madame, 55. 
 
 Whitworth, Lord, Napoleon's an- 
 gry reception of, 263; demands 
 his passports, 263. 
 
l\ 
 
 c 
 
 768 
 
 ^