THE AUSTRIAN MARRIAGE[34]
[Footnote 34: See Welschinger: Le Divorce de Napoleon.
Vandal: Napoleon et Alexandre Ier, Vol. II, Le second mariage
de Napoleon. Correspondance de Marie Louise 1799-1847.
Lettres intimes et inedites a la C^tesse de Colloredo et a
Mlle de Poutet, depuis 1810 C^tesse de Crenneville.
Welschinger: Le mariage de Napoleon et de Marie Louise, in
Revue de la revolution, Paris, Nov., 1788. Durand, Madame la
Generale, A Memoir, Napoleon and Marie-Louise ("Memoires sur
Napoleon et Marie-Louise").]
Anxieties of the Austrian Court -- The Plan for a Matrimonial
Alliance with Napoleon -- Opening of Formal Negotiations -- The
Deliberations in Paris -- Napoleon's Decision -- The Czar's
Indignation -- The Ceremonies at Vienna -- Napoleon's
Preparations -- His Meeting with Maria Louisa -- The Wedding --
Gifts and Rejoicings -- Impressions of the New Empress -- The New
Dynasty.
[Sidenote: 1809-10]
The court of Vienna had regarded what were apparently preparations for
a matrimonial alliance between France and Russia with nothing less
than consternation. Such an arrangement would, if consummated,
temporarily seal the political bond already existing, and might
guarantee it indefinitely. The empire of Austria, already shorn of so
many fair territories, was no longer a first-rate power. The language
used by Napoleon after the armistice of Znaim about Francis and the
necessity for his abdication, had made a deep impression in view of
the events at Bayonne. Was the ancient monarchy really to be
humiliated and remain permanently dismembered? Not if an imperial
alliance was the only thing necessary to secure Napoleon's favor.
There was an archduchess of the proper age, and the house of Hapsburg
was far more ancient and splendid than the house of Romanoff.
Among the many confidential agents of Napoleon concerned in
formulating the treaty of Schoenbrunn was a certain Alexandre de
Laborde, who had once been in the Austrian service and knew Vienna
well. Remaining behind after his employer's departure, he wrote a
memoir in December, 1809, which, though sent to Maret, was intended
for the Emperor himself, and was seen by him. In it is detailed a
conversation with Metternich, in which the latter had first vaguely
and then distinctly spoken of a match between Napoleon and the
Archduchess Maria Louisa. This, it was explained, was to be considered
only in case the divorce should take place, and the Austrian minister
declared that his master knew nothing of the project. There is no
reasonable doubt that Laborde's statement was substantially true, for
as long as there was glory in being the author of the suggestion
Metternich claimed the credit of it, and, in a letter of September
eleventh, 1811, categorically asserted that it was his; but after
Napoleon's fall he declared that the scheme originated in France, and
it was then said that Napoleon had himself taken the initiative, on a
hint from Schwarzenberg, the new Austrian ambassador in Paris. Whether
Napoleon or Francis was the suitor, it soon transpired that both were
willing. When, therefore, the former learned that the fate of the
Russian alliance was in the hands of the empress-dowager, he gave the
surly answer already quoted, and turned toward Austria. During the
pathetic scene of the divorce he formally asserted that having lost
hope of offspring by his well-beloved spouse, he was about to
sacrifice the tenderest emotions of his heart for the welfare of his
people. Being but forty years old, he might still hope to bring up
children and train them in his own ideas. Josephine gave her consent
to the dissolution of her marriage, because it was an obstacle to the
well-being of France, in that it stood in the way of her country's
future government by the descendants of a great man.
To emphasize this thought, the Emperor employed two devices. The first
was to produce an effect intended for home consumption. After the
battle of Wagram, Stadion, the Austrian minister of foreign affairs,
who had advocated the war, resigned; Metternich, who had been called
from the embassy at Paris to negotiate the peace on his master's side,
remained in Vienna to succeed Stadion, and Prince Schwarzenberg was
appointed to France. But the Countess Metternich was still in Paris.
The Beauharnais family--Eugene with the Austrian ambassador, Josephine
and Queen Hortense with Frau von Metternich--opened the negotiation
for securing Maria Louisa as the second Empress of France. To remove
all religious scruples, the bishops' court of Paris met, and on
January fourteenth pronounced Napoleon's first marriage null.
The second device was to lay before an extraordinary council the two
alternatives and ask their decision. Murat, Cambaceres, and probably
Fouche, voted for Russia. Fouche, like Talleyrand, had long been
suspected of playing not for Napoleon's, but for his own interest. A
certain independence of conduct and language which he had displayed in
raising the national guards to repel the Walcheren expedition had
awakened further suspicion in the Emperor's mind, and there had been
plain speaking between them. The minister of police, according to one
account, now declared that there were only two parties in
Europe--those who had gained and those who had lost by the Revolution;
that Russia belonged to the former, and was the true ally for the
French empire. It was believed that this argument was an endeavor to
regain the Emperor's favor, for the words have a Napoleonic ring. The
majority of the council, however, was under Maret's leadership, and
after a long, vague harangue from Talleyrand, in which he seemed to
concur with Maret, expressed itself in favor of Austria. From
immemorial times she had been the pivot of every Continental coalition
against France. She was now irritated, and must be soothed.
Napoleon's friends assert that he himself really favored the Russian
alliance, but looked on the request for delay as a covert refusal, and
considered himself the victim of circumstances. This is not probable,
for Maret was still his confidential man; at any rate, the Emperor
accepted the decision of the majority. Accordingly, a family council
was next called, and the matter was laid before them. There was no
doubt as to the conclusion: they declared for the Austrian marriage.
The formalities of arrangement were speedily concluded. Berthier, the
Prince of Neuchatel, was named ambassador extraordinary to marry the
Archduchess by proxy at Vienna, and the date was fixed for March
eleventh, 1810. The news was received at the Austrian capital with
jubilation. The populace had already lost much of its bitterness
against the French, for they had convinced themselves that in the last
war their own cabinet had been the aggressor. Stadion's resignation
was probably to many minds a confession of the fact, though in reality
it merely marked a change of policy. The French wounded were nursed by
the Viennese with tender care, and even under the lash many turned to
regard the strong hand which wielded it as probably the only power
able to restore peace and bring back its blessings. In judicious minds
the French alliance, even if not a high-spirited course, was popular
because it guaranteed Austria on the east against Russia and on the
west against France. If her identity were not destroyed, she might
hope at some distant day to regain her strength and her place in
Europe.
At St. Petersburg the news produced different effects. The
conservatives were not greatly disturbed, for now they were freed from
the possible disgrace of an imperial marriage with the Bonapartes, and
they could put up with the insult if only it should break the bonds
which tied them to the hated Continental System of Napoleon. But the
Czar was outraged; he had been personally insulted, and his policy was
toppling. He had secured nothing, he would be the laughing-stock of
his people, and he could no longer justify himself in resistance to
popular tendencies. He was likewise true-hearted enough to feel the
loss of a friend, and proud enough to smart under the feeling that he
had been duped. Much of this he concealed, although his suite thought
they could discern all these emotions. In the face of both Austria and
France he could not attack the deed itself. Caulaincourt assured him
in Napoleon's name that the match had no political character, and
changed nothing in the personal friendship which his Emperor continued
to feel. He insinuated that the real cause of the decision was the
religious difference. But this Alexander would not accept.
"Congratulate the Emperor on the choice he has made," was the reply.
"He wants children; all France wants them for him. The decision was
the one which should have been taken, but it is fortunate that the
matter of age stopped us here. Where would we have been if I had not
spoken of it to my mother? What reproaches could she not have heaped
on me? What must I not have said to you? for it is clear you were
dealing in both quarters. Why," he concluded, "has anything been said
about the difference in religion, when at the outset the Emperor
declared it would be no obstacle?" Thus was reached the second stage
in the dissolution of the famous alliance of Tilsit.
The scenes in Vienna were brilliant in the extreme. On the one hand,
they marked the Austrian approach to democracy, because for the first
time the tricolor was displayed in the streets, and the rigid
etiquette of the Hapsburgs, preserved from hoary antiquity with pious
care, snapped at every turn which Berthier took. On the other hand,
they marked the approach of France to absolutism. Napoleon ordered
that his bride should receive the same presents as those which Louis
XV had ordered for Maria Leszcynska, the splendors of the ceremonial
were to be royal, the new Empress's train was arranged according to
the same model, the itinerary of her journey was marked out as a royal
progress. The civil contract was signed on the tenth; the religious
ceremony occurred on the eleventh, as appointed; and then followed a
banquet where Berthier was absolved from all the ceremonies considered
obligatory upon one of his rank in the Hofburg. Three days later the
new Empress was handed to her traveling-carriage by the Archduke
Charles, and amid salvos of artillery, mingled with the cheers of the
populace, she set forth. There were a few signs of discontent among
little knots who collected to curse their national humiliation, and
the aristocracy were not reconciled to see Prince Esterhazy in the
role of guide to the Prince of Wagram, as Berthier had now been styled
by imperial decree in Paris. But, on the whole, Europe was impressed
with a sense of Francis's sincerity. The father went forth a day's
journey to spend an evening alone with his daughter and bestow in
parting his paternal blessing on a child who had saved her country.
Her journey through Bavaria and Wuertemberg was one long ovation, for
these countries believed their welfare to be bound up with that of
France. On the twenty-sixth her cortege, having passed by way of
Strasburg, was moving toward Soissons.
After the divorce Napoleon had withdrawn in solitude to the Trianon at
Versailles, as if to mourn his widowhood the appointed and decent time
in silence. The spot chosen had a significance with reference to the
coming celebrations. For a week he spent his days in the unaccustomed
but truly royal occupation of field sports. Once he visited Josephine
at Malmaison. The next months he had spent again in Paris conducting
the matrimonial negotiations and arranging every detail of the
etiquette to be observed in the cumbrous ceremonial which he had
devised for the celebration of his marriage in France. When all was
completed to his satisfaction he left for Compiegne to supervise the
arrangements made for the reception of his new consort, and spent the
last week of waiting there. Of all his family the giddiest and most
worldly was his sister Pauline. She and his sister-in-law, the
sensible and charming Queen of Westphalia, were chosen to advise and
counsel regarding matters of dress and behavior. The latter wrote to
her brother a full account of the Emperor's passionate expectation.
During these days his occupations were singularly human. Much of the
time was spent in trying on gorgeous clothes: gold-laced coats, and
embroidered waistcoats, which had been sent by Paris tailors. Some of
it was passed in the acquisition of accomplishments, notably in
learning to waltz. Every day he sent a letter with flowers to meet the
new Empress at every stage of her progress, and every day he received
a reply from her written in correct French.
At last she reached the close of the final stage, and her bridegroom
went out to meet her. Half-way between Soissons and Compiegne were
pitched three splendid pavilions. Her suite was to remain in that
nearest their last lodging, his in that nearest the palace, the bridal
pair were to meet in the central tent, where, according to the custom
of feudalism, she was to kneel and pay homage to her liege as his
foremost subject. But when the Emperor heard that his bride was so
near, his impatience seemed to break through all bounds. Entering his
carriage without ceremony or warning, and attended by only a single
companion, the King of Naples, he drove far past Soissons until the
carriages met, when he stepped out of his own, tore open the door of
the other, and entered with the eagerness of a youthful lover to
embrace his bride. The prearranged stops were countermanded, and the
same evening, at ten, the wedding-train reached Compiegne. Such was
the lover's ardor that he again flung propriety to the winds, and,
claiming the validity of the procuratorial ceremony at Vienna, slept
under the same roof with his bride, instead of in the chamber
furnished for his use in one of the administrative buildings. As an
excuse for this conduct he pleaded the example of Henry IV.
Next day the ladies and gentlemen of the Empress's court were
presented, and formally took the oath of office. On the morrow St.
Cloud was reached in the imperial progress; and two days later, on
April first, the civil ceremony of marriage was performed in the
presence of all the great dignitaries of the empire, including all the
cardinals but two. Excepting only those who pleaded their age or
infirmities, the entire college had been transplanted from Rome to
Paris shortly after the seizure of the Pope. There was the usual
festival at night, accompanied by salvos of artillery, with
illuminations of the palace grounds and fountains. The weather, like
the date, was untoward, but the Parisian populace streamed out in
spite of pouring rain to get a foretaste of the more magnificent
spectacles soon to follow. The solemn procession of the bridal pair
into the capital occurred next day, and the religious ceremony was
celebrated in the great gallery of the Louvre, before an assembly
declared at the time to be the most superb ever seen in France, except
for one ominous fact--the twenty-seven cardinals were absent. They
protested that their absence was an empty form, due only to the
circumstance that Pius VII had not sanctioned the divorce. But
Napoleon was as keenly sensitive to the effectiveness of forms as any
Roman prelate; the offenders were banished from Paris, stripped of
their great revenues, and forbidden to wear the color or insignia of
their office. The popular speech dubbed them black cardinals.
In the first outburst of enthusiastic loyalty, Paris and the nation
could not sufficiently manifest their joy. The illuminations were
lavish, the crowds exuberant, the presents to the Empress superb.
Among the latter was a complete toilet service of silver-gilt,
including not merely small vessels, but large pieces of furniture,
such as an arm-chair and cheval glass. Apparently the French people
felt assured that they had exchanged an old, worn-out dynasty for a
new and vigorous one. They were jubilant at the thought of peace and
safety, which seemed to a generation cradled under royalty to be even
yet impossible in Europe except in connection with a great conquering
family. It was for this they poured forth their sentiment and their
substance, not for the affection they bore the new Empress.
Measured by a certain standard, Maria Louisa was beautiful. Her
abundant light-brown hair softened the high color of her brilliant
complexion, her eyes were blue and mild, her features had the pretty
but uncertain fullness of her eighteen years, her glance was frank and
untroubled; but her lips were full and heavy, her waist was long and
stiff, her form was plump like a child's, and her timidity and
self-consciousness were uncontrollable. The French taste inclines to
lines in the human form which suggest a lithe and sinewy figure; the
French instinct seeks in the expression signs of quick emotion, not to
say passion; the French eye knows but one standard of taste in dress;
that alone is natural to French feeling which is the product of
self-control and consummate art. In all these respects the Austrian
archduchess was woefully deficient. She was pious, and, as her letters
declare, had spent much of the previous winter in praying that
Providence would choose another consort for Napoleon. But with the
resignation of her faith, which some call fatalism, and with the
obedience which German life demands from all women, even those of the
highest station, she had accepted her destiny. These qualities,
combined with her capacity for motherhood, soon gained a courteous and
affectionate support from her husband, and together they defied both
irreconcilable royalists and radical republicans, who, in spite of
their ever-waning influence and ever-thinning ranks, still annoyed the
Emperor by significant whisperings and glances. Both were in despair
because the strongest indictment they had urged was now quashed. One
pretext of England, Napoleon declared, had been that he intended to
destroy the ancient dynasties of Europe. Circumstances having opened
the way to his choice of a consort, he had used the opportunity in
order to destroy the flimsy plea under which Great Britain had
disturbed the nations and had stirred up the strife which had
inundated Europe with blood. Metternich heard people wondering in
Vienna whether a new French dynasty was really to be established for
the peace and welfare of France, or whether the alliance was intended
to throw the strength of a hitherto implacable and courageous foe into
another Napoleonic combination for the conquest of Europe and the
world.
The solution of this enigma has never been found. There was at the
moment a lull in the storm; for a time it seemed as if it would
lengthen into a prolonged calm. During the ceremonies at the Louvre
the Austrian ambassador, who had taken to himself the credit of what
was passing, and had impressively accepted the congratulations
showered on him, caught up a wine-glass from the breakfast-table, and,
appearing at the window, announced in a loud voice that he drank to
the "King of Rome," a title reserved under the Holy Roman Empire for
the heir apparent. It was but a short time since Schwarzenberg's proud
master had renounced his proudest style, that of Roman emperor. The
crowd knew that the toast as now given was intended for Napoleon's
issue, and they burst into cheers at this new sign of Austrian amity.
The captive Spaniards at Valencay were not to be outdone. They chanted
a "Te Deum" in their chapel, and drank toasts to the health "of our
august sovereigns, the great Napoleon and Maria Louisa, his august
spouse." Ferdinand set a climax to his disgusting obsequiousness in a
petition begging to be adopted as a son, and asking for permission to
appear at court. Compiegne, whither the imperial pair soon returned,
was crowded with royal personages, with the most distinguished
diplomatists, and with the couriers bearing congratulatory despatches
from persons of consequence throughout Europe.