NAPOLEON'S FATAL DECISION[33]
[Footnote 33: See Welschinger: Le divorce de Napoleon.
Vandal: Negociations avec la Russie relatives au second
mariage de Napoleon, in the Revue historique, tom. 44, pp.
1-42.]
Napoleon's Explanations to Alexander -- His New Manner -- Sad
Plight of Josephine -- The Divorce Announced and Confirmed by the
Senate -- Negotiations for the Czar's Sister -- Napoleon's
Impatience -- His Desire for a Great Match.
The treaty of Schoenbrunn was a flagrant violation of the agreement
made between Napoleon and Alexander at Erfurt, inasmuch as it
materially enlarged the grand duchy of Warsaw and thus menaced Russia
with the reconstruction of Poland. "Clearly," said Rumianzoff to
Caulaincourt, "you want to be rid of the Russian alliance, and to
substitute for it that with the grand duchy." Alexander was very
angry, but, though in the strict observance of forms he had been
irreproachable, his conduct in the real support of his ally had not
been sincere. His people were more embittered with the French alliance
every day, and Napoleon knew how both the nation and the Czar would
feel when they were informed that provinces occupied by Russian troops
had been assigned to Poland. Francis, wroth as he was, had not dared
to disturb the popular joy so loudly expressed over Napoleon's
premature announcement of peace. Accordingly, on October twentieth,
1809, the very day in which the papers were signed and ratified, an
explanation was sent to Alexander by the Emperor of the French. It
pleaded that he could not abandon a friendly people to Austria's
vengeance, but declared that he would guarantee their good behavior
under Saxon rule; as for the names of Poles and Poland, for all he
cared, they might disappear from history. The Czar accepted the excuse
with what grace he could, for the partition of Turkey was not yet
accomplished. But the peace of Schoenbrunn marked the initiation of a
policy which dissolved the peace of Tilsit. There could now no longer
be any serious question of marriage between members of the two courts.
Compelled by circumstances to choose between a dual alliance with a
first-rate power which must share on equal terms in the dominion of
the world, and one with a second-rate power whose armies were
surpassed by none, Napoleon had deliberately chosen the latter, as the
shortest way to absolute and complete supremacy, to the assertion of a
sovereign will over a conquered universe.
Napoleon's return to Paris was celebrated in the manner usual after a
victorious campaign. The departments of government issued the most
fulsome addresses; subsidiary and vassal kings crowded to offer their
congratulations; there were the ordinary manifestations of popular
joy, and no one seemed to remember that the Emperor had been smitten
by the papal bolt. But men remarked a great change in his bearing and
expression. Cambaceres said that he seemed to be walking in the midst
of his glory. Moreover, he withdrew from the capital, and held his
court in Fontainebleau. The air was all surcharged. The Duc de Broglie
tells us in his memoirs that he had seen the Empress early that year,
surrounded by the brilliant throng of "ladies in waiting, ladies of
the court and palace, accompanied by the train of 'readers,' which
composed the harem of our sultan, and enabled him for a time to endure
the painted old age of the former sultana." The truth which underlies
this is notorious, and the scene over the divorce before the Emperor's
departure for the campaign just concluded bears witness to the depth
to which Josephine had fallen in her desperate attempts to retain both
her place and some portion of Napoleon's tenderness.
[Illustration: From the collection of W. C. Crane.
EUGENE BEAUHARNAIS.
Drawn by Vigneron after Le Gros]
Napoleon himself had long since announced that he was superior to
plain virtues, and the list of his paramours was daily growing longer
and better known. But all this self-abasement on the part of Josephine
and all the self-indulgence of Napoleon could not do more than
postpone the judgment day. "My enemies," the Emperor was accustomed to
cry out--"my enemies make appointments at my tomb." He could not rest
content with an empire for himself which he knew would break of its
own weight on his death unless he left a legitimate heir. On his
return from Austria his resolution to divorce the Empress was taken,
and Eugene was summoned to convey it to his mother. Josephine, though
forewarned, was still unable to realize the fact. She behaved well;
her own long career of intrigue, license, and extravagance forbade
recriminations, and besides, she was to enjoy the title and state of
an empress for life. Still, as women under the Directory loved, she
loved her husband, and there had been much tenderness between them,
neither taking very seriously the infidelities of the other. To the
end, even after the moderate beauty and great physical charm of her
middle age were transformed into the faded colors and form of old age
(for she was old at forty-five), and when the arts of the toilet could
no longer conceal the ravages of time and license, there still
continued to exist between the Empress and her second husband a mutual
good will and a feeling of comradeship engendered by the memories of
adventure, risk, plots, and gains encountered side by side through
a married life of thirteen years. She had little intellect and not
much character, but she had much feminine sweetness and many soft,
winning ways. Her only weapon, therefore, in the hour of defeat was
tears, and those she shed abundantly. When the paroxysms of grief were
over, the Emperor made a display of tenderness, and the Empress
manifested a gentle and affecting courage.
On December fifteenth, 1809, before the grand council held in the
Tuileries, the divorce was pronounced, and the next day it was
confirmed by decree of the senate. Josephine withdrew to Malmaison to
drag out her remaining years in empty state, for the support of which
she had a grant of two million francs a year. To the hour of her
death, five years later, she asserted her love for Napoleon, and in
general she displayed great anxiety for his welfare and success.
Posterity has always felt a certain tenderness for the unfortunate
woman who was raised so high and then cast down so suddenly. She was
not virtuous, she was not strong, she was not even very beautiful. Her
wrong-doing was like the naughtiness of household pets, impulsive but
not malicious, deceitful but without rancor, determined but quickly
deprecated. For this reason her misfortune has veiled her weakness and
softened the harshness of men's judgment.
Almost a month before the formal divorce Caulaincourt had received
instructions to address the Czar on the question of marriage between
his sister Anne, now sixteen years of age, and the Emperor of the
French. The ambassador was to make no formal demand, but was to ask
for some expression of general intentions and feelings. Alexander was
in the provinces, and did not return until the middle of December.
Meantime Caulaincourt, after careful inquiry, had learned that the
young princess was frail in health and not yet of marriageable age.
The letter to his master conveying this information was crossed by one
of Napoleon's making a formal demand. The difference in confessional
adherence was of no account, he said, and an immediate answer was
desired. "Take as your standpoint that children are wanted." This put
the Czar in a serious dilemma. An alliance with France was still near
his heart. By the treaty of Friedrichshamn, which had been signed on
September ninth, 1809, he had secured Finland at last, but of the
other splendid projects suggested at Tilsit and confirmed at Erfurt
not one was realized. Aside from the chagrin he had felt at the war
with Austria, and its menacing results in the enlargement of Poland,
there was now an additional cause of anxiety; for in the conflict with
Turkey his troops had but recently been driven back across the Danube.
If he broke with Napoleon he might even lose Moldavia and Wallachia,
and realize nothing further. A few weeks had softened the displeasure
he felt after Schoenbrunn, and he now began to shower favors on
Caulaincourt, expressing the greatest anxiety for the match. The youth
of the princess was, however, a serious obstacle, and he must consult
his empress-mother. Of course the dowager made every objection to the
marriage; she was an ardent sympathizer with the old Russian party,
and hated Napoleon. There is little doubt that she was entirely right,
moreover, in declaring at last as an insuperable obstacle that her
daughter was too young. Alexander then turned his whole attention to
cajoling the French ambassador in order to gain time. He had always
been more Napoleon's friend than his ally, he said; surely the Emperor
would grant a delay for a few months.
But this was exactly what the suitor would not do. His dignity
forbade him to abide the empress-dowager's time; the divorce had been
pronounced, and state reasons made his marriage imperative. "To
adjourn is to refuse," he replied; "and besides, I want no strange
priests in my palace between my wife and me." This was apparently a
complete somersault, for it meant that either Alexander must yield or
the alliance would be jeopardized. No one can divine from the evidence
exactly which alternative Napoleon desired; but in view of his general
character, of the treaty he had made with Francis, and of subsequent
events, it was probably the latter. He could have used the Czar's
compliance to found his dynasty, but he seems to have made up his mind
that Austria was the better dependence. Besides, he had very serious
reasons of state for urgency. He recognized at every step of his
career that his power rested in the popular will, not on tradition or
theories. Hence, at every moment two purposes were immediate: first,
to keep the popular favor; second, to transform his tenure of power by
the infusion of a dynastic element.
In the winter of 1809 the people of France were not comfortable. The
promised peace with England seemed again postponed; the war in the
Spanish peninsula was still raging; the Continental System was
steadily undermining public prosperity. There was stagnation in the
great French seaports; hand in hand with commerce, both industry and
trade were languishing. The great southern towns, deprived of their
Spanish market, were nearly bankrupt. In addition the clergy and their
adherents were thoroughly roused by the treatment of the Pope. On the
other hand, the Emperor's personal popularity was also suffering
serious ravages. In the new administrative system the places which led
to promotion had now for a long time been given to members of the old
nobility; the recipients looked on them as their right, and neither
they nor their families were grateful, while the sturdy democracy felt
slighted and injured. Even the new nobility grew more unmanageable
with every day. In full possession of their estates, titles, and
incomes, they felt their independence, and refused to be longer guided
by the hand which had led them into their promised land. They had
allied themselves with the oldest families in France, and the
haughtiness of family pride led them to feel condescension for the
great adventurer whose blood so far flowed in no aristocratic veins.
It seemed to Napoleon that in order to secure popular good will he
must restore prosperity, which was not easy, and to assert a moral
ascendancy over his court he must make a suitable match, which was
easy enough. Neither must be half done; his prestige required a great
stroke, and it was better to make the match first, and thereby ease
the tension until England could be brought to terms--with Russia's aid
if possible, without it if necessary.