The name by which they were to be called was often changed. For some
time they were allowed to call themselves First Ladies of the Empress;
but this title offended the ladies of the palace, who wanted to call
them First Chambermaids, which made them very angry. The Emperor at last
gave them the name of _Lectrices_. They had under them six ordinary
chambermaids who had no position in the court; these dressed the
Empress, put on her shoes and stockings, and did her hair every morning;
they were, in fact, chambermaids.
This is the way in which Marie Louise passed the day: At eight in the
morning her window shutters were thrown open, and the curtains of her
bed pushed back. The newspapers were brought to her, and she took her
first breakfast in bed. At nine she dressed, and received intimate
friends. At twelve she ate her second breakfast. Then she would practise
a little, or draw, or sew, or play billiards. At two, if the weather was
pleasant, she would drive out with the Duchess of Montebello, the Knight
of Honor, and two ladies-in-waiting. Sometimes she rode on horseback; it
was Napoleon who had given her lessons at Saint Cloud. "He used to walk
by her side, holding her hand, while an equerry led the horse by the
bridle; he allayed her fear and encouraged her. She profited by her
lessons, became bolder, and at last rode very well. When she did credit
to her teacher, the lessons went on, sometimes in the avenues of the
private park just outside of the family drawing-room, so called because
it was adorned with portraits of the Imperial family. When the Emperor
had a moment's leisure after breakfast, he used to have the horses
brought around, would get on one himself in his silk stockings and
silver-buckled shoes, and ride by the Empress's side. He would urge her
horse on, get it to gallop, laughing heartily at her terrified cries,
although all danger was guarded against by the presence of a line of
huntsmen ready to stop the horse and prevent a fall."
On returning, Marie Louise often took a lesson in music or painting. She
was a real musician, and had a real talent for the piano. Prudhon and
Isabey, who taught her drawing and painting, praised her talents. As
Lamartine says: "When she entered her own rooms or the solitude of
the gardens, she was once more a German woman. She cultivated poetry,
drawing, singing. Education had perfected these talents in her, as if to
console her, far from her country, for the absence and the sorrows to
which the young girl would be one day condemned. She excelled in these
things, but for herself alone. She used to read and recite from memory
the poets of her own language and country." Marie Louise busied herself
with charities, but without ostentation, almost secretly; hence she
never won the credit for it that she deserved. Her generosity did not
limit itself to the ten thousand francs which she set aside out of
her allowance of fifty thousand francs a month; she never heard of a
case of suffering without at once trying to relieve it.
In private life Marie Louise was kind and amiable. She was very polite
and gentle; unlike many princesses, she was not given to fickle
preferences and to infatuations as intense as they were brief; she was
not unjust, violent, or capricious. She was never angry; she did not
give empty promises, or affect any excessive interest, but she could
always be depended on; she never distressed or humiliated any one.
Having been trained from her infancy to court life, she was a kind
mistress, for she had learned to combine two qualities that are often
irreconcilable--dignity and gentleness. All who were thrown into her
society agree in this. Sometimes, according to Madame Durand, when she
was in company her face had a melancholy expression inspired by the
demands of etiquette that were made upon her; but "when she had returned
to her own quarters, she was gentle, merry, affable, and adored by all
who were with her every day.... Nothing was more gracious, more amiable,
than her face when she was at her ease, quietly at home in the evening,
or among those to whom she was particularly attached."
Marie Louise gave a great deal of care to her son, whom she tenderly
loved. She had him brought to her every morning, and she kept him with
her until she had to dress. In the course of the day, in the intervals
of her lessons, she used to visit the little King in his apartment,
and sit by his side and sew. Often she took him and his nurse to the
Emperor; the nurse would stop at the door of the room in which Napoleon
was, and Marie Louise would enter, with the child in her arms, always
afraid that she was going to drop him. Then the Emperor would run up,
take the child, and cover him with kisses.
The Baron de Méneval writes thus: "Sometimes he was seated on his
favorite sofa, near the mantel-piece, on which stood two magnificent
bronze busts, of Scipio and Hannibal, and was busily reading an
important report; sometimes he went to his writing-desk, hollowed in
the middle, with two projecting shelves, covered with papers, to sign a
despatch, every word of which had to be carefully weighed; but his son,
sitting on his knees, or held close to his chest, never left him. He had
such a marvellous power of concentration that he could at the same time
give his attention to important business and humor his son. Again,
laying aside the great thoughts which haunted his mind, he would lie
down on the floor by the boy's side, and play with him like another
child, eager to amuse him and to spare him every annoyance."
M. de Méneval also tells us that the Emperor had had made little blocks
of mahogany, of different lengths and various colors, with one end
notched, to represent battalions, regiments, and divisions, and that
when he wanted to try some new combination of troops, he used to set out
these blocks on the floor. "Sometimes," adds M. de Méneval, "we used to
find him seriously occupied in arranging these blocks, rehearsing one of
the able manuvres with which he triumphed on the battle-field. The boy,
seated at his side, delighted by the shape and color of the blocks,
which reminded him of his toys, would stretch out his hand every minute
and disturb the order of battle, often at the decisive moment, just when
the enemy was about to be beaten; but the Emperor was so cool and so
considerate of his son, that he was not disturbed by the confusion
introduced into his manoeuvres, but he would begin again, without
annoyance, to arrange the blocks. His patience and his kindness to the
boy were inexhaustible."
Napoleon was also very kind to Marie Louise. He did everything that he
could to make his wife happy and respected. He arranged matters in such
a way that etiquette should not interfere with her favorite occupations.
She dined alone with him every evening, and when he was absent, she
dined with the Duchess of Montebello. After dinner there was generally a
small reception or a little concert. At eleven Marie Louise withdrew
to her own apartment, and her life was monotonous, but agreeable.
She generally spent the summer at Saint Cloud and the winter at the
Tuileries. At Saint Cloud, where the park was a great attraction to her,
she slept in a room on the first floor, which had been occupied by Marie
Antoinette and Josephine. (In the time of Napoleon III. it was the
Council Hall of the Ministers.) At the Tuileries, her rooms were on the
ground floor, between the Pavilion of the Clock, and that of Flora, and
had also been occupied by the Queen and the first Empress. They looked
out on the garden, and consisted of a gala apartment and a private one.
The first consisted of an ante-chamber, a first and second drawing-room,
a drawing-room of the Empress, a dining-room, and a concert-room; the
second, of a bedchamber, the library, the dressing-room, the boudoir,
and the bathroom. A rigid etiquette controlled the entrance to the
Empress's as well as the Emperor's apartment. Napoleon lived on the
first floor, where he had the bedroom which had been previously
occupied by Louis XV. and by Louis XVI.; but there was a little private
staircase, which he used constantly, leading to his wife's apartment.
Marie Louise was on good terms with the princes and princesses of
the Imperial family, who were less offended by the superiority of an
archduchess than they had been by that of a woman of humble origin,
like Josephine. In accordance with her husband's directions, the second
Empress was always polite and affable in her relations with his family,
but she was never too familiar. No one of her sisters-in-law was as
intimate with her as was the Duchess of Montebello. One incident, for
which Marie Louise was in no way responsible, threw a little coolness
on her relations with the princesses, although it was of but brief
duration. Soon after the birth of the King of Rome the Emperor noticed
that near the bed on which the Empress was to lie there had been placed
three armchairs,--one for his mother, the other two for the Queens of
Spain and of Holland. He found fault with this arrangement, saying that
since his mother was not a queen, she ought not to have an armchair, and
that none of them should have one. Accordingly, for the armchairs he had
three handsome footstools substituted. When the three ladies came in,
they noticed, with some annoyance, the change that had been made, and
soon left. They would have done wrong to blame the Empress; for it was
the Emperor who was responsible, and when Napoleon gave an order, no
one, not even his wife, could have thought of saying a word. In matters
of etiquette he controlled the minutest details and regarded them as
very important. Nothing came of this little incident, and in general the
members of the Emperor's family got on better with the second Empress
than with the first.
In short, what did Marie Louise lack in the beginning of 1812? She had
a husband, at the height of his fame and glory, who gave her more
affection, regard, and consideration than any one else in the world. She
was the mother of a superb child, whom every one admired. Around her she
saw respect on every face. For maid-of-honor she had a real friend, a
woman whom she would herself have chosen, so highly did she value her
character and manners. Her household consisted of the flower of the
French aristocracy. She followed her own tastes, studied with the best
masters, distributed alms as she pleased, lived in the handsomest
palaces in Europe. There were no discomforts, no difficulties, in her
position. She had no conflicting duties, no occasion to decide between
her father and her husband, between the country of her birth and that
of her adoption, none of those struggles and heartrending perplexities
which so cruelly beset her afterwards. At that time the Emperor Francis
was well contented with his son-in-law, and corresponded with him in
a most friendly way. At that happy moment the Frenchwoman could be an
Austrian without injury to her mission and her duty. The path she was
to follow was clearly traced. Alas! it was not for long that she was
to enjoy this calm and equable happiness, so well suited to her timid
nature, which was made to obey, not to rule. She had then no cause to
blame her fate or herself. As a young girl, as a wife, as a mother, she
had nothing to ask for. Her satisfaction was furthered by the thought
that she was soon to see again her father, her family, her country; and
apart from the matter of feeling, she must have been gratified by the
thought that she was to appear again in Austria with a brilliancy and
splendor such as no other woman in the world could show. Her stay in
Dresden was the crowning point of her brief grandeur, the end of the
swift but dazzling period of prosperity and good fortune which may be
described as the happy days of the Empress Marie Louise.
XXVII.
DRESDEN.
The _Moniteur_ of May 10, 1812, contained the following announcement:
"Paris, May 9. The Emperor left to-day to inspect the Grand Army
assembled on the Vistula. Her Majesty the Empress will accompany His
Majesty as far as Dresden, where she hopes to have the pleasure of
seeing her August family. She will return in July at the latest. His
Majesty the King of Rome will spend the summer at Meudon, where he has
been for a month. He has finished his teething, and enjoys perfect
health. He will be weaned at the end of the month."
It will be acknowledged that it was a somewhat singular thing to
announce thus in the same article the speedy weaning of a baby and the
beginning of the most colossal campaign of modern times. Not a word had
been said about war. Never had the departure for an army seemed more
like a pleasure trip. Followed by a great part of his court, Napoleon,
like a Darius or a Louis XIV., had left Saint Cloud, May 9, in the same
carriage as the Empress. The Republican general had disappeared before a
magnificent monarch surrounded by Asiatic pomp. The possibility of
defeat occurred to no one. One would have supposed that he was starting
on a long ovation, a triumphal progress.
At every step the all-powerful Emperor and his young wife seemed to be
tasting the onsets of grandeur and glory. May 9 he slept at Châlons; the
10th he entered Metz, where he at once got on horseback, reviewed the
troops, and visited the fortifications. The 11th he was at Mayence,
where he received the Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess of Hesse
Darmstadt, as well as the Prince of Anhalt-Köthen. The 13th he crossed
the Rhine, stopped a moment to see the Prince Primate at Aschaffenburg,
met in the course of the day the King of Würtemberg and the Grand Duke
of Baden, and spent the night at Würzburg, the sovereign of which was
the former Grand Duke of Tuscany, the brother of the Emperor of Austria.
Marie Louise was delighted to see her uncle again, who was to join her
at Dresden. The 14th they slept at Bayreuth, the 15th at Plauen, and on
the 16th they reached Dresden.
As Thiers says, Napoleon had passed through Germany amid an
unprecedented throng of the populace, whose curiosity equalled their
hatred. "Never, indeed, had the potentate whom they abhorred appeared
more surrounded with glory. People talked with mingled surprise and
terror of the six hundred thousand men who had gathered at his
command from all parts of Europe. They ascribed to him plans far more
extraordinary than those he had formed. They said he was going by Russia
to India. They spread abroad a thousand fables far wilder than his
real designs, and almost believed them accomplished, so much had his
continual success discouraged hatred from hoping for what it desired.
Vast heaps of wood were prepared along his path, and at nightfall these
were set on fire to light his road; so that what was really curiosity
produced almost the same effect as love and joy."
The Emperor's intention in going to Dresden was to spend two or three
weeks there before taking command of his armies, and to dazzle all
Europe by the sumptuous court which he should hold in the Saxon capital.
For some weeks Marie Louise had been hoping to meet her father at
Dresden, and the thought filled her with joy. She had written to him,
March 15: "The Emperor sends all sorts of kind messages to you. He bids
me tell you also that if we have war, he will take me to Dresden, where
I shall spend two months, and where I hope soon to see you too. You
cannot imagine, dear father, the pleasure I take in this hope. I am sure
that you will not refuse me the great pleasure of bringing my dear mamma
and my brothers and sisters. But I beg of you, dear papa, don't say
anything about it, for nothing is decided." Marie Louise was at the
height of happiness when she reached Saxony. At that moment she was very
proud of being Napoleon's wife. She entered Dresden with him, May 16,
1812, at eleven in the evening, escorted by the King and Queen of
Saxony, who had gone to Freiberg to meet them.
The next morning at eight, Napoleon, who was staying in the grand
apartment of the royal castle, received the sovereign princes of
Saxe-Coburg, Saxe-Weimar, and Dessau, as well as the high officials of
the Saxon court. The King of Westphalia and the Grand Duke of Würzburg
arrived in the course of the day, and at once presented their respects.
At one o'clock in the afternoon of the 18th the Emperor and Empress of
Austria arrived in Dresden. "What a moment for Marie Louise!" writes
Madame Durand. "She found herself once more in her father's arms, and
appeared before the dazzled eyes of her family, the happiest of wives,
the first of sovereigns! Her August father could not hide his emotion.
He tenderly kissed his son-in-law, and recognizing the claims he had
upon his heart, told him more than once that he could count on him
and on Austria for the triumph of the common cause." Possibly these
assurances were not perfectly sincere, but Napoleon believed in them, or
pretended to believe in them. As for Marie Louise, she never interfered
in politics, and gave herself up to family joys.
The period of Napoleon's stay at Dresden was the culmination of his
power. Possibly no mortal had ever attained so high a position as this
new Agamemnon. "It is at Dresden," says Chateaubriand, "that he united
the separate parts of the Confederation of the Rhine, and for the first
and last time set in motion this machine of his own creation. Among the
exiled masterpieces of painting which sadly missed the Italian sun,
there took place the meeting of Napoleon and Marie Louise with a crowd
of sovereigns, great and small. These sovereigns tried to make out of
their different courts subordinate circles of the first court, and
rivalled with one another in vassalage. One wanted to be the cup-bearer
of the ensign of Brienne; another, his butler. Charlemagne's history
was put under contribution by the erudition of the German chancellor's
officers. The higher they were, the more eager their demands. As
Bonaparte said in Las Cases, a lady of the Montmorencys would have
hastened to undo the Empress's shoes." The monarchs were more like
Napoleon's courtiers than his equals. Princes and private citizens, rich
and poor, nobles and plebeians, friends and enemies, crowded to get a
look at him. Night and day there was an immense throng gazing at the
doors and windows of the palace in which lodged the predestined being,
in hope of being able to say, "I have seen him." The French waited on
him with idolatry. The Germans had a complex feeling about him, in which
admiration was stronger than hate.
General de Ségur, who was at Dresden with Napoleon, represents him
as moderate and even eager to please, but with visible effort and
manifestations of the fatigue which he experienced. As to the German
princes, their attitude, their words, even the tone of their voice,
showed the ascendancy he exercised over them. They were all there solely
on his account. They scarcely ventured to discuss anything, being always
ready to recognize his superiority of which he was himself only too
conscious. "His reception," adds the General, "presented a remarkable
sight. Sovereign princes flocked thither to await an audience of the
Conqueror of Europe; they so crowded his officers, that these last often
had to remind one another to take care not to offend these new courtiers
who were crowding among them. Napoleon's presence thus removed the
differences, for he was as much their chief as he was ours. This common
dependence seemed to level everything about him. Then possibly the
ill-concealed military pride of many French generals offended these
princes, when the former seemed to think that they were elevated to
royal rank; for whatever the dignity and position of the conquered, the
conqueror is his equal."
May 18, the day of the arrival of the Emperor and the Empress of
Austria, it was the King of Saxony who gave a dinner to his guests; but
on the other days it was Napoleon who assumed the duties of hospitality,
as if he had been at home in Dresden. He wanted to receive, not to be
received. The sovereigns ate at his table, and it was he who fixed the
hours and all the details of etiquette. Since he was unwilling that his
stay should inconvenience the King of Saxony, who was not rich, he was
preceded and followed by his household, which was supplied with
everything necessary for a magnificent representation. Part of the
handsome vermilion table service presented to him by the city of Paris,
on the occasion of his marriage, had been carried to Dresden, and there
was all the luxury of the Tuileries.
At Saint Helena the beaten conqueror recalled the memory of his past
splendors with a certain satisfaction. "The interview at Dresden," he
said in his Memorial, "was the moment of Napoleon's highest power. Then
he appeared as the king of kings. He was compelled to point out that
some attention should be paid to his father-in-law, the Emperor of
Austria. Neither this monarch nor the King of Prussia had his household
with him; nor did Alexander at Tilsit or Erfurt. There, as at Dresden,
they ate at Napoleon's table. These courts, the Emperor used to say,
were mean and middle-class; it was he who arranged the etiquette and
set the tone. He invited Francis to visit him and dazzled him with his
splendor. Napoleon's luxury and magnificence must have made him seem
like an Asiatic satrap. There, as at Tilsit, he covered with diamonds
every one who came near him." He had brought after him the best actors
of the Théâtre Français, and, as at Erfurt, Talma played before a pit
full of kings.
What were the real feelings of these princes, who were so obsequious to
Napoleon? The King of Saxony, the patriarch of these monarchs, was
a frank, loyal man, of a keen sense of honor, and he was thoroughly
sincere in the devotion he professed to the Emperor, to whom he thought
he owed a great debt. Napoleon, who was very fond of this king, would
have no other guards at Dresden than the Saxon soldiers. Even after
Leipsic he retained a pleasant memory of them, and at Saint Helena he
said to those who charged him with excessive confidence in them, "I was
then in so kind a family, with such good people, that there was no risk;
every one loved me, and even now I am sure that the King of Saxony says
every day a _Pater_ and an _Ave_ for me."
Unlike the Saxon king, the Emperor of Austria, in spite of the family
ties, had but very moderate affection for Napoleon. Metternich, who was
at Dresden, says in his Memoirs, "The attitude of the two sovereigns was
such as their respective positions demanded, but was yet very cool."
Thiers describes the Emperor Francis as opening his arms almost
sincerely to his son-in-law, displaying a sort of inconsistency, which
is more frequent than is generally imagined, torn between delight at
seeing his daughter so exalted and pain at Austria's losses; promising
Napoleon his assistance after having promised Alexander that this
assistance would be nothing, saying to himself that after all he had
adopted a wise course, by making himself sure whichever party should be
victorious, yet with more confidence in Napoleon's success, from which
he sought to get profit in advance.
As to the Empress of Austria, the step-mother of Marie Louise, she
concealed beneath formality and perfect politeness a profound antipathy
to the conqueror. It required almost a formal order from her husband to
bring her to Dresden. She was then a pretty woman, twenty-four years
old, witty, and proud of her birth and her crown. Napoleon she looked
on as an upstart, a vainglorious adventurer, the cause of all the
humiliations inflicted on the Austrian monarchy; and the splendor which
surrounded the hero of Marengo, of Austerlitz, of Wagram, aroused in
her a resentment all the keener because she was compelled to hide it.
Napoleon in his pique determined to win over the step-mother of Marie
Louise.