found it difficult to forget the sudden annoyance. The Grand Almoner,
after a deep bow to Their Majesties, intoned the _Veni Creator_, and
then proceeded to bless the thirteen pieces of gold and the ring.
Napoleon and Marie Louise arose, advanced to the altar, and clasped
their bared right hands. The priest then addressed the Emperor, "Sire,
do you acknowledge and swear before God and His Holy Church that you now
take for your lawful wife Her Imperial and Royal Highness, Madame Marie
Louise, Archduchess of Austria, here present?" Napoleon answered, "Yes,
sir." Then turning to the Empress, "Madame, do you acknowledge and swear
before God and His Holy Church that you now take for your lawful husband
the Emperor Napoleon here present?" "Yes, sir." "Do you promise and
swear to show to him the fidelity in all things which a faithful wife
owes to her husband, according to God's holy commandment?" "Yes, sir."
The priest then gave the Emperor the pieces of gold and the ring; he
presented the pieces of gold to the Empress and placed the ring on her
finger, saying, "This ring I give unto you in token of the marriage we
are contracting." The priest made the sign of the cross upon the hand
of the Empress, and said, "_In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus
Sancti, Amen_." Then mass was said. After the Gospel the First Bishop
carried the holy volume to Their Majesties to kiss, and waved incense
before them. After the benediction, the Grand Almoner offered them holy
water, and gave them the corporal kiss; then he turned towards the altar
and intoned the _Te Deum_, which was sung by the chapel choir, producing
a deep impression.
The procession formed anew after the ceremony, and retraced its steps.
The Emperor gave the Empress his hand, and it was observed with surprise
that in passing through the long gallery, his face, which had been so
triumphant and joyous, no longer wore the same expression. Could
the absence of the thirteen cardinals have been enough to mar
this magnificent ceremony? The procession after leaving the long
picture-gallery reached the Gallery of Diana by the Pavilion of Flora,
and then it stopped. The sovereigns and the Imperial family entered
the Emperor's drawing-room, which opened on this gallery. Marie Louise
withdrew to her own room. The maid-of-honor and the Lady of the
Bedchamber removed her Imperial cloak and the crown, to give them to the
Chamberlain, who had carried them in ceremony to Notre Dame. Then Their
Majesties appeared on the balcony of the Hall of the Marshals and
watched the infantry and cavalry of the Imperial Guard march by.
Officers and men waved their weapons, and filled the air with their loud
cheers, which were repeated by an enthusiastic multitude. The Imperial
dinner took place at seven in the theatre of the Tuileries. The stage
had been decorated like the rest of the hall, so that instead of
being separate divisions, there was but one huge, unbroken room. The
decoration consisted of two cupolas upheld by double arches with the
intermediate vaults adorned with columns. One of the two parallel
divisions contained the table destined for the Imperial banquet, which
stood on a platform beneath a magnificent canopy. As soon as the dinner
was ready, the Grand Chamberlain offered the Emperor a basin in which to
wash his hands. The First Equerry offered him a chair. The Grand Marshal
of the Palace gave him a napkin. The First Prefect, the First Equerry,
and the First Chamberlain of the Empress had similar duties. The Grand
Almoner stood up by the table, asked a blessing, and withdrew. During
the repast the Grand Marshal of the Palace offered the Emperor wine. It
was an imposing sight. According to the _Moniteur:_ "Here again it is
impossible to do justice to the extraordinary magnificence of this
imposing occasion. Pen and pencil can describe but faintly the majestic
order, the admirable regularity, the blaze of diamonds, the beauty of a
brilliant illumination, the gorgeous dresses, and above all the noble
ease, the indefinable grace, and perfect elegance which have always
characterized the court of France."
After the banquet Napoleon and Marie Louise went to the Hall of the
Marshals and appeared on the balcony. A vast crowd had gathered in the
garden, under the walls of the palace, around the amphitheatre which
had been built for the public concert. They greeted the sovereigns with
repeated calls and cheers. The following cantata was given, with words
by Arnault and Méhul's music:--
WOMEN.
"Mars himself has yielded the earth
To the only god peace cannot disarm.
Beneath serener skies see all revive,
All grow tender, all take fire.
On the oak, beneath the heather,
See, yielding to the call of love,
The proud eagle itself forgetting his thunder.
MEN.
"See the many warriors mingling with the citizens,
Hiding their old laurels beneath the new myrtles,
For the first time forgetful of their conquests.
See the Frenchman, see the German,
Clasping each other's hand
And inviting you to the same festivals.
MEN AND WOMEN.
"Hear the voice resounding
From the banks of the Danube to the banks of the Seine;
Hear the voice that promises
A long reign to the happiness which this day brings."
Then was given the chorus from _Iphigenia:_ "What grace, what majesty!"
a chorus which Glück, said the _Moniteur_, "could not have made more
beautiful, even if he had foreseen this occasion." Alas! the
same thing had been said, in the same words, for the unhappy Marie
Antoinette; but away with these gloomy presentiments! After the concert
the discharge of a rocket from the palace gave the signal for the
fireworks. These had been arranged for the whole length of the Avenue of
the Champs Élysées. The illumination brought out the impressiveness of
the vast architectural lines of the Tuileries. The main avenues of the
gardens were richly decorated; around the flower-beds were one hundred
and twenty-eight porticoes and twenty-eight arches from which hung
transparencies and garlands; and at the entrance of this enchanted
garden there was a graceful triumphal arch with twenty-four columns
and eight pilasters illuminated with colored lanterns. The Place de
la Concorde was surrounded by pyramids of fire and lights arranged to
resemble orange-trees; the Champs Élysées, the Garde Meuble, the Temple
of Glory, the Tuileries, the Palace of the Corps Législatif, were all
ablaze. This last-named building, with a hastily constructed front to
show how it was to be finished, represented on that occasion the Temple
of Hymen. A transparency represented in front Peace blessing the August
couple; on each side were genii carrying bucklers on which were to be
seen the arms of the two Empires. Behind this group were magistrates,
soldiers, and people, offering crowns, and at the ends of the
transparency, the Seine and the Danube, surrounded with children, in
token of fecundity. The twelve columns in front, the steps, the
stone statues of Sully, of l'Hôpital, of Colbert, of d'Aguesseau, as
well as those of Themis and Minerva, were most brilliant. The bridge
Louis XV., leading from the Place de la Concorde to the Temple of Hymen,
resembled a triumphal avenue with its double row of lights, its colored
glass, its obelisks, its hundreds of blazing columns, each one topped
by a star. The calmness of a lovely spring night was favorable to the
illuminations; all Paris seemed a sea of flame with waves of fire.
The festival continued till late into the night. "All the happy
families," says the _Moniteur_, "returned to their peaceful homes after
a long absence. Every one had had the happiness of gazing at the Emperor
and his August spouse, and all could feel that they too had been seen of
them, so thoroughly did the feeling of the benevolence and affability
with which their homage had been received by Their Majesties, repay
the most enthusiastic testimonials of love and gratitude which a great
nation has ever been able to present to its rulers."
Tuesday, April 3, was the day for the presentation at the Tuileries to
the Emperor and Empress, seated on their throne, of the great bodies of
the State. The Emperor replied to the address of the Senate in these
words, "I and the Empress merit the sentiments which you express by the
love we nourish for our people." The President of the deputation from
the Kingdom of Italy spoke in Italian. "Our people of Italy,"
replied the Emperor, "know how much we love them. As soon as possible,
I and the Empress wish to go to our good cities of Milan, Venice, and
Bologna, to give new pledges of our love for our Italian people."
The thirteen Italian cardinals who were unwilling to be present at the
wedding the day before were in the Hall of the Marshals, where, amid a
throng of prelates, officers, functionaries, and court ladies, they were
waiting for the moment to pass before their formidable master. They
had been there for three hours, in great anxiety, when aides appeared,
bidding them depart at once, the Emperor being unwilling to receive
them. Much disconcerted, they made their way with difficulty through the
crowd to their carriages. When the other cardinals, who had been present
at the wedding, presented themselves in the throne-room, Napoleon stood
up and violently denounced their expelled colleagues. Cardinal Consalvi,
formerly Secretary of State to Pius VII., was especially attacked.
"The others," he said, "may perhaps be excused on the score of their
theological prejudices, but he has offended me from political motives.
He is my enemy, and he seeks to revenge himself for my driving him from
the ministry. That is why he has made this deep plot against me, raising
against my dynasty a pretext of illegitimacy, a pretext which my enemies
will be sure to lay hold of when my death shall have freed them from
the fear that restrains them to-day." It was in vain that the offending
thirteen cardinals wrote together an apologetic letter in which they
said that they had never wished to judge the validity of the Emperor's
first marriage or to throw any doubts on the lawfulness of the second.
Napoleon remained implacable. He turned them out of their office,
stripped them of their cardinals' robes, bade them resume their attire
as simple priests, so that afterwards they were known as the black
cardinals, in distinction from the others, the red cardinals. He
deprived them of all their estates, ecclesiastic or inherited, and
placed them under sequestration. He made them live in bands of two, in
various cities of France, dependent on the charity of the faithful.
The contest with the Pope began: but the Pope, though defeated in the
beginning, was to conquer in the end, and the persecutor of one day was
himself persecuted the next. The captive of Savona and of Fontainebleau
was to re-enter the eternal city in triumph, and the all-powerful
Emperor, the Pope's jailer, was to die, a prisoner of the English, on
the rock of Saint Helena.
XV.
THE HONEYMOON.
Napoleon was happy; his new wife pleased him; he found that she was what
he had wanted her to be,--gentle, kindly, timid, modest. It seemed sure
that she would bring him heirs. Being neither ambitious nor prone to
intrigue, she did not meddle with politics. She was religious, moral,
and her principles were most sound. She would never oppose her husband,
whose slightest wish she regarded as a command. She would appease his
few stubborn foes of the French aristocracy, and put a stop to the last
surviving backbiting of the Faubourg Saint Germain. As a bond of union
between the past and the present, she brought not to France alone, but
to all Europe, stability and repose, and rendered the foundations of the
Imperial edifice firm and indestructible. The Emperor's marriage seemed
his greatest triumph. For her part, Marie Louise was pleased with her
new throne. Surrounded as she was by a chosen society, having in her
service the proudest names of the French, the Belgian, the Italian
nobility; flattered by the attention of a court in which elegance,
wit, politeness, followed all the most brilliant traditions of the old
régime, the daughter of the German Cæsars could not imagine that France,
with its tranquillity, its profound respect, its affection for the
monarchy, in which she was treated more like a goddess than a sovereign,
had, a few years earlier, been governed by the Jacobins.
Marie Louise found more luxury and pleasure at the Tuileries and at
Compiègne than at the Burg or at Schoenbrunn. Modest as she was, the
ingenious flattery, the delicate homage, she received from all quarters
could not fail to affect her. The sympathy with which her maid-of-honor,
the Duchess of Montebello, inspired her, soon grew into a warm and firm
friendship.
Napoleon had particular regard for his young wife, and in his love there
was a shade of fatherly protection. He was not yet forty-one. Success
and glory had given to his mature face a greater beauty than it had worn
in his youth. His manners, formerly harsh and almost violent, had become
much softer. To the Republican general had succeeded a majestic monarch
familiar with all the usages of courts, all the laws of etiquette,
maintaining his rank like a Louis XIV., and playing his royal part with
the ease and dignity of a great actor. Successful in everything he
undertook, never exposed to contradiction, surrounded by people whose
most anxious desire was to forestall his wishes, to anticipate his
commands, he seldom had occasion to give way to the outbursts of anger,
sometimes real, oftener assumed, in which he formerly indulged. He
liked to talk, and his conversation was easy and witty, and full of an
irresistible charm. His dress, which in old times he neglected, became
elegant. His expression and voice acquired gentleness and an almost
caressing quality. Not only did he try to fascinate the young and
handsome Empress, he spared no pains to please her. Being much honored
and flattered in his vanity as a Corsican gentleman,--for this man of
Vendémiaire, the saviour of the Convention, always had a weakness for
coats-of-arms and for titles,--he was proud as well as happy in having
for his wife a woman belonging to so old and illustrious a race; and
this sensation of gratified pride inspired an equability of temper, a
serenity, a gayety, which delighted his courtiers, who were glad to see
his happiness, for they enjoyed its agreeable results. It was in this
spirit that Napoleon and Marie Louise started, April 5, 1810, from Saint
Cloud for Compiègne, whence they set forth on the 27th for a triumphal
progress in the departments of the North.
In short, this wedded life began under the happiest auspices. At Vienna,
the Emperor Francis was perfectly satisfied. Count Otto, the French
Ambassador, wrote to the Duke of Cadore, March 31, 1810, as follows:
"The events of the 29th were celebrated here yesterday by a general
illumination, and by a grand court levee where His Majesty received
again the congratulations of the Diplomatic Body, the nobility, and of
many foreigners. The Emperor seemed thoroughly contented; he spoke to
me very warmly of his satisfaction, which is shared by all his subjects
with but few exceptions. Both when I came in and when I was leaving, he
spoke to me in the most gracious manner possible, and especially
about the incomparable benefit His Majesty had rendered to European
civilization by restoring France to its real basis. He praised our army,
and added that he would do what he could to aid those of our soldiers
who still remained in the hospitals here. 'Henceforth,' the Emperor
continued, 'we have but one and the same interest, to work together for
the peace of Europe and the furtherance of the arts of use for society.
Everything can be made good, except the loss of so many excellent men
killed or maimed in the last war.' His Majesty's example in addressing
me before any one else was followed by his brother."
The Emperor Francis was very happy to learn that his daughter was
pleased with Napoleon and the French. The French Ambassador wrote from
Vienna to the Duke of Cadore, April 8, 1810: "The letters which the
Emperor and Empress of Austria have received from Their Majesties have
given them the greatest satisfaction, and especially those brought two
evenings ago by the Count of Praslin. The Emperor was moved by them to
tears. This sentence, 'We suit each other perfectly,' made the deepest
impression, as well as two letters from Her Majesty the Empress, written
in German, in which, among other things, she said, 'I am as happy as it
is possible to be; my father's words have come true, I find the Emperor
very lovable.' Prince Metternich wept for joy when he gave me these
details, and put his arms round my neck and kissed me. The court is
perfectly happy since it has heard of this meeting, and of the affection
and confidence each has felt for the other."
Count Metternich sent to the Emperor Francis the minutest details about
the magnificent way in which the marriage was celebrated, and the French
Ambassador thus described that monarch's satisfaction: "The Emperor
of Austria received to-day from Count Metternich most circumstantial
accounts of what took place in Paris, April 5, and he expressed to me
his great delight. The unprecedented honors paid to his daughter did not
touch him so much as the delicacy displayed by His Majesty the Emperor
Napoleon. I am especially bidden to convey to Your Excellency the
expression of his gratitude for the consideration His Majesty showed in
relieving the Empress of the ceremony of the first interview. By urging
Her Majesty to talk freely with Count Metternich, the Emperor has also
delighted his August father-in-law, who thoroughly appreciates his noble
conduct. The Empress said that on this occasion she received from
the Emperor not only the most delicate consideration, but also the
attentions and instructions of an affectionate father. That report
called forth many happy tears, and I cannot too strongly express to Your
Excellency the happiness that exists here, and the desire that it should
be known in Paris.... The Emperor of Austria is much flattered by
the marked distinction with which his Minister of Foreign Affairs
[Metternich] is treated in Paris, and he certainly seems to deserve it
by his unflagging zeal and his unbounded devotion to the principles of
the alliance." (Count Otto's despatch of April 15, 1810.)
The famous Prince Metternich, who was then only a count, and had left
his father the Prince in charge of the ministry in Vienna, had intended
to stay only four weeks in Paris, but he was detained there nearly six
months. "I went thither," he states in his Memoirs, "not to study the
past, but to try to forecast the future, and I was anxious to succeed
speedily. I said one day to the Emperor Napoleon that my stay in Paris
could not be a long one. 'Your Majesty,' I said to him, 'had me carried
to Austria, almost like a prisoner; now I have come back to Paris of my
own free will, but with great duties to perform. To-day I am recalled to
Vienna and entrusted with an immense responsibility. The Emperor Francis
wanted me to be present at his daughter's entry into France; I have
obeyed his orders; but I tell you frankly, Sire, that I have a loftier
ambition. I am anxious to find the line to follow in politics in a
remote future.' 'I understand you,' the Emperor replied; 'your wishes
coincide with mine. Remain with us a few weeks longer, and you will be
perfectly satisfied.'"
Metternich held a privileged position at the French court; for he was
very amiable and charming, a perfect man of the world, an accomplished
diplomatist, and thoroughly familiar with France and the French,
moreover, very intimate with Napoleon and the whole Imperial family.
"Napoleon asked me one day," he says in his Memoirs, "why I never went
to see the Empress Marie Louise except on reception days and other more
or less formal occasions. I answered that I had no reason for doing
otherwise, and indeed had many good reasons for doing as I had done."
"By breaking the customary rule," Metternich continued, "I should arouse
comment; people would say that I was intriguing; I should do harm to the
Empress and injustice to my own character. 'Bah!' interrupted Napoleon,
'I want you to see the Empress; call on her to-morrow morning; I will
tell her to expect you.' The next day I went to the Tuileries and found
the Emperor with the Empress. We were talking commonplaces when Napoleon
said to me, 'I want the Empress to talk to you freely, and to tell you
what she thinks of her position; you are her friend, and she ought to
have no secrets from you.' Therewith Napoleon locked the drawing-room
door, put the key in his pocket, and went out by another door. I asked
the Empress what this meant, and she asked me the same question. Since
I saw that she had not been primed by Napoleon, I conjectured that he
evidently wished me to receive from her own lips a satisfactory idea
of her domestic relations, in order to give a favorable account to her
father, the Emperor, The Empress was of the same opinion. We remained
closeted together more than an hour. When Napoleon came back, laughing,
he said, 'Well, have you had a good talk? Has the Empress been abusing
me? Has she been laughing or crying? But I don't ask you to tell me;
those things are your secrets, which do not concern any third person,
not even if that third person is her husband.' We carried on the
conversation in that vein, and I took my leave. The next day Napoleon
sought for an opportunity to talk with me. 'What did the Empress say
yesterday?' he asked. 'You told me,' I replied, 'that our interview did
not concern any third person; let me keep my secret.' 'The Empress told
you,' Napoleon interrupted, 'that she is happy with me, that she has
nothing to complain of. I hope you will tell the Emperor, and that he
will believe you more than any one else.'"
In fact, Metternich told the Emperor Francis, and he believed
Metternich. Moreover, he had every reason to believe him; for the
Empress Marie Louise was then perfectly happy, and no clouds were yet to
be seen on the sky which was later to be torn by terrible tempests.
We will end this chapter by copying the curious letter which Marie
Louise's step-mother, the Empress of Austria, wrote to Napoleon, April
10, 1810, which expresses in a tone almost of familiarity the favorable
impressions of the Viennese court: "My brother,--I cannot express to
Your Majesty the feeling of gratitude I have experienced on receiving
your last letter, which has filled me with joy by the assurance it
contains of your satisfaction with the being we have confided to you.
My maternal heart was the more open to this emotion because I had felt
doubtful about the result. Now, however, that I am reassured by Your
Majesty, I have no further fear, and I cheerfully share my daughter's
happiness. She has described it to me with touching sincerity, and is
never tired of telling me how gratified she is by the many attentions
she has received since your meeting. Her sole desire is to make Your
Majesty happy, and I venture to flatter myself that she will succeed;
for I know her character well, and it is excellent. Louise promises to
write to me regularly, and this somewhat consoles me for a real loss.
It is pleasant to be able to keep up one's relations with a person one
loves, and I am sure that I feel for her the tenderness of a mother, so
kind has she been to me, treating me like a real friend. Your Majesty
is good enough to say that your wife has spoken about me. I am not
surprised; for I know that she, like me, has a very loving heart. But
with due regard to truth, I cannot leave Your Majesty under any mistake
with regard to her obligations towards me. From what she says you may
form a favorable opinion of her candor. If I can boast of anything, it
is that I have tried to preserve this candor, which may at first have
made her seem timid, while in fact it renders her only the more worthy
of Your Majesty's esteem and friendship.