_Communication of his Intention to Josephine._
I was on duty at the Tuilleries from Monday, November 27; on that day,
the Tuesday and Wednesday following, it was easy for me to observe a
great alteration in the features of the empress, and a silent constraint
in Napoleon. If in the course of dinner he broke the silence, it was
to ask me some brief questions, to which he did not hear the reply.
On those days the dinner did not last for more than ten minutes.
The storm burst on Thursday the 30th.
Their majesties went to table. Josephine wore a large white hat, tied
under her chin, and which concealed part of her face. I thought,
however, that I perceived she had been weeping, and that she then
restrained her tears with difficulty. She appeared to me the image of
grief and of despair. The most profound silence reigned throughout the
dinner; and they only touched the dishes which were presented to them
out of mere form. The only words uttered were those addressed to me by
Napoleon: "What o'clock is it?" In pronouncing them, he rose from table.
Josephine followed slowly. Coffee was served, and Napoleon took himself
the cup which was held by the page on duty, and gave the sign that he
wished to be alone. I immediately retired, but restless, and a prey to
my sad thoughts, I sat down in the attendance-room, which was commonly
used for their majesties to dine in, in an armchair, on the side of
which was the door to the emperor's room. I was mechanically watching
the servants who were clearing the table, when on a sudden I heard
violent cries from the empress Josephine issue from the emperor's
chamber. The usher of the chamber, thinking she was taken ill, was on
the point of opening the door, when I prevented him, observing, that
the emperor would call for assistance if he thought it necessary. I was
standing close to the door, when the emperor himself opened it, and
perceiving me, said quickly "Come in, Bausset, and shut the door."
I entered the chamber, and saw the empress Josephine stretched on the
carpet, uttering piercing cries and complaints. "No, I will never
survive it," said she. Napoleon said to me, "Are you sufficiently strong
to raise Josephine, and to carry her to her apartments by the private
staircase, in order that she may receive the care and assistance which
she requires?" I obeyed, and raised the princess, who, I thought, was
seized with a nervous affection. With the aid of Napoleon, I raised her
into my arms, and he himself taking a light from the table, opened the
door, which, by an obscure passage, led to the little staircase of
which he had spoken. When we reached the first step of the staircase,
I observed to Napoleon, that it was too narrow for it to be possible
for me to descend without the danger of falling. He forthwith called the
keeper of the portfolio, who day and night was in attendance at one of
the doors of his closet, the entrance to which was on the landing-place
of this little staircase. Napoleon gave him the light, of which we had
little need, for the passages had become light. He commanded the keeper
to go on before, and took himself the legs of Josephine in order to
assist me in descending with less difficulty. At one moment, however,
I was embarrassed by my sword, and I thought we must have fallen, but
fortunately we descended without any accident, and deposited the
precious burden on an ottoman in the sleeping-chamber. Napoleon
immediately pulled the little bell, and summoned the empress's women.
When I raised the empress in the chamber she ceased to moan, and I
thought that she had fainted; but at the time I was embarrassed by my
sword in the middle of the little staircase, of which I have already
spoken, I was obliged to hold her firmly to prevent a fall which would
have been dreadful to the actors in this melancholy scene. I held the
empress in my arms, which encircled her waist, her back rested against
my chest, and her hand leaned upon my right shoulder. When she felt the
efforts which I made to prevent falling, she said to me in a very low
tone, "You press me too hard." I then saw that I had nothing to fear for
her health, and that she had not for an instant lost her senses. During
the whole of this scene I was wholly occupied with Josephine, whose
situation afflicted me; I had not power to observe Napoleon; but when
the empress's women had come, he retired into a little room which
preceded the sleeping-chamber, and I followed him. His agitation, his
inquietude were extreme. In the distress which he felt he made me
acquainted with the cause of every thing that had happened, and said to
me these words:--"The interest of France and of my dynasty does violence
to my heart--the divorce has become a rigorous duty to me--I am the more
afflicted by what has happened to Josephine, because three days ago she
must have learned it from Hortensia--the unhappy obligation which
condemns me to separate myself from her--I deplore it with all my heart,
but I thought she possessed more strength of character, and I was not
prepared for the bursts of her grief." In fact, the emotion which
oppressed him, compelled him to make a long pause between each phrase he
uttered, in order to breathe. His words came from him with labour and
without connexion; his voice was tremulous and oppressed, and tears
moistened his eyes. It really seemed as if he were beside himself to
give so many details to me, who was so far removed from his councils and
his confidence. The whole of this transaction did not occupy more than
seven or eight minutes. Napoleon immediately went to seek for Corvisart,
queen Hortensia, Cambaceres, and Fouché; and before he returned to his
apartment, he assured himself of the condition of Josephine, whom he
found more calm and more resigned. I followed him, and after having
recovered my hat, which I had thrown on the carpet that my motions might
be more free, I retired to the attendance-chamber. To avoid all kinds of
commentaries, I said before the pages and the ushers that the empress
had been seized with a violent affection of the nerves.
_Private Anecdotes of Foreign Courts._
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