slept soundly, "Yet," says General de Ségur, "our position was so perilous
that some of us said the enemy could have thrown a bullet across all our
lines with the hand. This was so true that the first cannon-ball fired the
next day passed over our heads and killed a cook at his canteen far behind
us." At about five o'clock Napoleon asked of Marshal Soult: "Shall we beat
them?" "Yes, if they are there." answered the Marshal; "I am only afraid
they have left." At that moment, the first musketry fire was heard, "There
they are!" said the Emperor, joyfully; "there they are! the business is
beginning." Then he went to address the infantry, encouraging them to
crush the famous Prussian cavalry. "This cavalry," he said, "must be
destroyed here, before our squares, as we crushed the Russian infantry at
Austerlitz." The victory was overwhelming. Napoleon thus recounted it in a
letter to the Empress, dated Jena, October 15, at three in the morning:
"My dear, I have done some good manoeuvring against the Prussians.
Yesterday I gained a great victory. They were one hundred and fifty
thousand men; I have made twenty thousand prisoners, captured one hundred
cannon and flags. I was facing the King of Prussia and very near him; I
just missed capturing him and the Queen. I have been bivouacking for two
days. I am wonderfully well. Good by, my dear, keep well and love me. If
Hortense is at Mayence, give her a kiss as well as Napoleon and the little
one." And again from Weimar, October 16: "M. Talleyrand will have shown
you the bulletin and you will have seen our success. Everything has turned
out as I planned, and never was an army more thoroughly beaten and
destroyed. I will only add that I am well; that fatigue, watching, and the
bivouac have made me stouter. Good by, my dear, much love to Hortense and
the great Napoleon."
Hortense had joined her mother at Mayence with her two sons, meeting there
her relative, Princess Stéphanie of Baden, the Princess of Nassau and her
daughters, many generals' wives, who had desired to be near the scene of
war to get early news. With what impatience tidings were awaited! With
what curiosity and respect were read and discussed the two or three words
scrawled by the hand of the Emperor or of his lieutenants! A lookout had
been placed a league away on the high-road, who announced the coming of a
messenger by blowing on a horn. At the same time the files of prisoners
were seen passing on their way to France. Josephine, ever kind and
pitiful, tried to soften their lot and gave aid and comfort to officers
and soldiers.
Meanwhile Napoleon continued his triumphal march. From Wittenberg he wrote
to his wife, October 23: "I have received a number of letters from you. I
write but a word: everything goes on well. To-morrow I shall be at
Potsdam, the 25th at Berlin. I am perfectly well; fatigue agrees with me.
I am glad to hear of you in company together with Hortense and Stéphanie.
The weather has so far been very pleasant. Much love to Stéphanie and to
every one, including M. Napoleon. Good by, my dear. Ever yours."
At Potsdam the Emperor visited the celebrated palace of Sans Souci and
found the room of Frederick the Great as it had been in his lifetime, and
guarded by one of his old servants. He then went to the Protestant church
which contained the hero's tomb. "The door of the monument was open," says
General de Ségur. "Napoleon paused at the entrance, in a grave and
respectful attitude. He gazed into the shadow enclosing the hero's ashes,
and stood thus for nearly ten minutes, motionless, silent, as if buried in
deep thought. There were five or six of us with him: Duroc, Caulaincourt,
an aide-de-camp, and I. We gazed at this solemn and extraordinary scene,
imagining the two great men face to face, identifying ourselves with the
thoughts we ascribed to our Emperor before that other genius whose glory
survived the overthrow of his work, who was as great in extreme adversity
as in success." The eighteenth bulletin said of this tomb: "The great
man's remains are enclosed in a wooden coffin covered with copper, and are
placed in a vault, with no ornaments, trophies, or other distinction
recalling his great actions." The Emperor presented to the Invalides in
Paris Frederick's sword, his ribbon of the Black Eagle, his general's
sash, as well as the flags carried by his guard in the Seven Years' War.
The old veterans of the army of Hanover received with religious respect
everything which had belonged to one of the first captains whose memory is
recorded in history. When he saw that the Prussian court had not thought
of making those relics safe from invasion, the hero of Jena, who on this
occasion abused his victory, exclaimed as he pointed to the famous sword:
"I prefer that to twenty millions." In his letters to Josephine, Napoleon
made no mention of his impressions in the house of Frederick. He simply
wrote, October 24: "I have been at Potsdam since yesterday, and shall
spend to-day here. I continue to be satisfied with everything. My health
is good; the weather is fine. I find Sans Souci very agreeable. Good by,
my dear. Much love to Hortense and M. Napoleon."
October 27, 1806, the Emperor made his formal entrance into Berlin,
surrounded by his guard and followed by the cuirassiers of the divisions
of Hautpoul and Nansouty. He proceeded in triumph from the
Charlottenburger gate to the King's Palace, of which he was to take
possession. The populace crowded the streets, but uttered no cries of hate
or flattery for the conqueror. "Prussia was happy," says Thiers, "at not
being divided, and at retaining its dignity in its disasters. The enemy's
entrance was not first the overthrow of one party and the triumph of
another; it contained no unworthy faction, indulging in odious joy and
applauding the presence of foreign soldiers! We Frenchmen, unhappier in
our defeats, have known this abominable joy; for we have seen everything
in this century: the extremes of victory and of defeat, of grandeur and of
abasement, of the purest devotion and of the blackest treachery!" Alas!
What Frenchman could have foretold in 1806 the disasters of 1814 and 1815?
The army deemed itself invincible and was wild with joyful pride. Davout,
whose men the Emperor had just congratulated, wrote to him in great
enthusiasm: "Sire, we are your tenth legion. Everywhere and at all times
the third corps will be for you what that legion was for Caesar." Never
did soldiers have greater enthusiasm or more confidence in their leader.
One might have said that Josephine, amid all these triumphs, had a
presentiment of the future. Victories could not dispel her sadness. Her
husband wrote to her November 1: "Talleyrand has come, and tells me that
you do nothing but cry. But what do you want? You have your daughters,
your grandchildren, and good news; certainly you have the materials for
happiness and content. The weather here is superb; not a drop of rain has
fallen in the whole campaign, I am in good health, and everything is
progressing favorably. Good by. I have received a letter from M. Napoleon;
I don't think it is from him but from Hortense. Love to all."
Napoleon was not modest in his triumph. He pursued with sarcasms the
nobility of Prussia and Queen Louise who had warmly counselled war. This
fair sovereign, the mother of the late Emperor William, was then thirty
years old; she was the daughter of a Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz and of a
Princess of Hesse-Darmstadt. She was a most thorough German, hated France,
and especially the French Revolution. She was a fearless horsewoman, and
had been seen facing great dangers at the battle of Jena. When she rode
before her troops in her helmet of polished steel, shaded by a plume, in
her glittering golden cuirass, her tunic of silver stuff, her red boots
with gold spurs, she resembled Tasso's heroines. The soldiers burst into
cries of enthusiasm, as they saw their warlike Queen; before her were
bowed the flags she had embroidered with her own hands, and the old, torn,
and battle-stained standards of Frederick the Great. After the battle she
was obliged to take flight, at full gallop, to avoid being captured by the
French hussars.
In his bulletins the Emperor had made the serious blunder of speaking of
Queen Louise in a manner wanting in proper respect for a woman, and
especially for a woman in misfortune. Josephine, who was full of tact, was
much pained by this lack of generosity, and reproached her husband for it.
Napoleon sought to excuse himself, writing, November 6: "I have received
your letter in which you seem pained by the evil I say of women. It is
true that I hate, more than anything, intriguing women. I am used to
kindly, gentle, conciliating women; those are the ones I love. If they
have spoiled me, it is not my fault, but yours. Now I will show you that I
have been very good for one who has shown herself sensible and kind,
Madame Hatzfeld. When I showed her her husband's letter, bursting into
tears, she said to me with, great emotion, and simplicity: 'It is
certainly his hand-writing!' As she read it, her accent touched my heart
and gave me real distress, I said to her: 'Well, Madame, throw that letter
into the fire, I shall not be strong enough to punish your husband,' She
burned the letter and seemed to be very happy, Her husband has ever since
been very calm; two hours more, and he would have been a ruined man. You
see then that I love kind, simple, gentle women; but it's because they are
like you. Good by, my dear, I am well."
The kingdom of Prussia was conquered, but the war was not over, After
fighting the Prussians he had to fight the Russians; the war in Poland was
beginning. Napoleon wrote to the King of Prussia: "Your Majesty has
announced to me that you have thrown yourself into the arms of the
Russians. The future will decide whether this is the best and wisest
choice. You have taken the dice-box and thrown the dice; the dice will
decide it." At Paris, in spite of the splendors of the Imperial glory,
there existed a vague uneasiness. Peace had been expected after Jena, and
some apprehension was felt about the renewal of the struggle in the
northern steppes. Madame de Rémusat wrote, November 9, to her husband, who
was at Mayence with the Empress, "There is something in the Emperor's
career which confounds ordinary calculations, and, so to speak, goes
beyond them. It is most impressive, and, I might say, alarming, and yet he
seems so far above customary conditions that there is no need of fear
about the points to which he exposes himself, and still less, draw the
line at which he shall stop. But I shudder to think how far he is from us
at this moment. May God be with him, I am ever praying, and preserve him!
While this great part of the French nation which is under his orders, is
marching to great victories, we are vegetating here in complete dulness.
There is very little society, and no houses are open."
Josephine was very anxious to join her husband who held it before her as a
possibility, but never permitted it. He had written to her, November 16:
"I am glad to see that my views please you. You were wrong to think I was
flattering; I spoke of you as you seem to me. I am sorry to think that you
are bored at Mayence. If the journey was not so long you might come here,
for the enemy has left, and is beyond the Vistula; that is to say, one
hundred and twenty leagues from here. I will await your decision. I shall
be glad to see M. Napoleon. Good by, my dear. Ever yours." And November
22: "Be satisfied and happy in my friendship, in all I feel for you. In a
few days I shall decide to summon you or to send you to Paris. Good by.
You may go now, if you wish, to Darmstadt and Frankfort; that will amuse
you. Much love to Hortense." After signing the decree establishing the
continental blockade, Napoleon had left Berlin November 25. The next day
he again held before Josephine the prospect of a speedy meeting. "I am at
Custrin," he said in his letter, "to make some reconnoissances; I shall
see you in two days if you are to come. You can hold yourself in
readiness. I shall be glad to have the Queen of Holland come too. The
Grand Duchess of Baden must write to her husband about coming. It is two
o'clock in the morning; I have just got up. That is the way at war. Much
love to you and every one." A letter from Meseritz, March 27, was still
more explicit: "I am going to make a trip through Poland; this is the most
important city here. I shall be at Posen this evening, after which I
summon you to Berlin, that you may arrive there the same day. My health is
good, the weather rather bad; it has been raining for three days. Matters
are in a good condition. The Russians are in flight." Josephine, who had
trembled with joy at the thought of seeing her husband, fell into great
gloom when she saw that she had been deceived by a vain hope. The tortures
of, alas! too well-founded jealousy were to be added to her sufferings!
Napoleon reached Posen November 28, and wrote the next day to his wife: "I
am at Posen, the capital of Great Poland, The cold is beginning; I am
well. I am going to make a trip in Poland. My troops are at the gates of
Warsaw. Good by, my dear, much love. I kiss you with all my heart. To-day
is the anniversary of Austerlitz. I have been at a ball given by the city.
It is raining. I am well. I love you and long for you. My troops are at
Warsaw. It has not yet been cold. All the Polish women are Frenchwomen,
but there is only one woman for me. Do you know her? I should draw her
portrait for you; but I should have to flatter it too much for you to
recognize it; nevertheless, to tell the truth, my heart would have only
good things to tell you. I find the nights long in my solitude. Ever
yours." Perhaps Napoleon would not have been so amiable to Josephine had
it not been that he was going to be very unfaithful to her in Poland, and
in a movement of pity wanted to console her in advance. From there he sent
her, December 3, two letters, one at noon, the other at six in the
evening. This is the first: "I have your letter of November 26. I notice
two things: you say, don't read your letters; that is unjust. I am sorry
for your bad opinion. You tell me you are not jealous. I have long
observed that people who are angry always say that they are not angry,
that people who are afraid say they are not afraid; so you are convicted
of jealousy; I am delighted! Besides, you are mistaken, and in the deserts
of fair Poland one thinks but little about pretty women. Yesterday I was
at a ball of the nobility of the province; rather pretty women, rather
rich, rather ill dressed, although in the Paris fashion." Perhaps Napoleon
said that to reassure the Empress; I imagine that the Polish women, with
all their elegance and grace, were scarcely so ill-dressed as he
pretended.
This is the second letter, dated December 3, 6 P.M.: "I have your letter
of November 27, and I see that your little head is much excited. I
remember the line: 'A woman's wish is a devouring flame,' and I must calm
you. I wrote to you that I was in Poland, that when we should have got
into winter-quarters you might come; so you must wait a few days. The
greater one becomes, the less will one must have; one depends on events
and circumstances. You may go to Frankfort or Darmstadt, I hope to summon
you in a few days, but events must decide. The warmth of your letter
convinces me that you pretty women take no account of obstacles; what you
want must be; but I must say that I am the greatest slave that lives; my
master has no heart, and this master is the nature of things." Napoleon
should have said: Providence. Man proposes, but God disposes.
Napoleon again spoke a little of having Josephine come. He wrote to her
December 10: "An officer has brought me a rug from you; it is a little
short and narrow, but I am no less grateful to you for it. I am fairly
well. The weather is very changeable. Everything is in good condition. I
love you and am very anxious to see you. Good by, my dear: I shall write
to you to come with more pleasure than you will come."
December 12 he spoke once more of this projected journey which became ever
more and more remote, like a mirage in the desert: "My health is good, the
weather very mild; the bad season has not begun, but the roads are bad in
a country where there are no highways. So Hortense will come with
Napoleon; I am delighted. I am impatient to have things settle themselves
so that you can come. I have made peace with Saxony. The Elector is King
and belongs to the confederation. Good by, my dearest Josephine. Yours
ever. A kiss to Hortense, to Napoleon, and to Stéphanie. Paër, the famous
musician, his wife, whom you saw at Milan twelve years ago, and Brizzi,
are here; they give me some music every evening." Napoleon left Posen in
the middle of December. The evening before his departure he wrote a letter
to his wife which showed the unlikelihood of her joining him, as she hoped
to do; "I am leaving for Warsaw, and shall be back in a fortnight. I hope
then to have you here. Still, if that is too long I should be glad to have
you return to Paris where you are needed. You know that I have to depend
on events." The unhappy Josephine already had a foreboding of his devotion
to a great Polish lady.
Napoleon reached Warsaw December 18, 1806. He was to stay there till the
23d, return there January 2, 1807, and not to go away till the 31st of
that month. He was greeted there with enthusiasm. He had said to his
soldiers in his proclamation on entering Poland: "The French eagle is
soaring above the Vistula. The brave and unfortunate Pole, when he sees
you, imagines that he sees the legions of Sobieski returning from their
memorable expedition." No one understood better than the Emperor how to
impress the imagination of a people. At sight of him the inhabitants of
Warsaw were thrilled with patriotic joy. It seemed to them that their
grand nation was rising from the tomb. The Polish women, with their
lively, poetic, ardent nature, regarded Napoleon as a sort of Messiah. In
the intoxication of their ecstatic admiration, the most beautiful of
them--and Poland is the country of beauty--turned towards him, like
sirens, their most seductive smiles. This coquetry they regarded as a
patriotic duty. Josephine had good grounds for jealousy.
Napoleon was in the field during the last days of December. War at that
time was particularly fatiguing. The dampness, worse than any cold,
saddened the eyes and wearied the body. The temperature was forever
changing between frost and thaw. Fighting took place in the most
unfavorable conditions. But the Emperor, pitiless for himself and every
one else, uttered no complaint. He wrote from Golimin to the Empress,
December 29, at five in the morning: "I write but a word, from a wretched
barn. I have beaten the Russians, captured thirty cannon, their baggage,
and six thousand prisoners; but the weather is frightful; it pours, and we
are knee deep in mud." And from Pultusk, December 31: "I have laughed a
good deal over your last two letters. You have formed a very inaccurate
notion of the beautiful Polish women. Two or three days I have had great
pleasure in hearing Paër and two women who have given me some very good
music. I received your letter in a wretched barn, with mud, wind, and
straw for my only bed." In spite of what her husband said, Josephine was
right about the charm of the Polish ladies, and Napoleon, on his return to
Warsaw, January 2, 1807, was to become seriously interested in one of
them.
Soon there was no question of sending for the Empress, who would only have
been in the way. Napoleon wrote to her, January 3: "I have received your
letter. Your regret touches me, but we must submit to events. It is too
long a journey from Mayence to Warsaw; we must wait till events permit my
going to Berlin before I can write for you to come. Meanwhile, the enemy
is withdrawing, defeated, but I have a good many things to settle here. I
should advise your returning to Paris, where you are needed. Send back
those ladies who have anything to do there; you will be better for getting
rid of people who tire you. I am well; the weather is bad. I love you
much." The Emperor, utterly taken up by his love for the Polish lady, was
anxious that Josephine, instead of coming to him, should at once return
promptly to France. "My dear," he wrote to her, January 7, "I am touched
by all you say, but the cold season, the bad, unsafe roads prevent my
giving my consent to your facing so many fatigues. Return to Paris for the
winter. Go to the Tuileries, hold your receptions, and live as you do when
I am there: that is my wish. Perhaps I shall join you there without delay;
but you must give up the plan of travelling three hundred leagues at this
season, through hostile countries, in the rear of the army. Be sure that
it is more painful to me than to you to postpone for a few weeks the
pleasure of seeing you; but this is commanded by events and the state of
affairs. Good by, my dear, be happy and brave." The next day he wrote
again on the same subject: "I have yours of the 27th, with those of
Hortense and M. Napoleon enclosed. I have asked you to go back to Paris;
the season is too bad, the roads too insecure and detestable, the distance
too great for me to allow you to come so far to me when my affairs detain
me. It would take you at least a month to get here. You. would be sick
when you got here, and then, perhaps, you would have to start back; it
would be madness. Your sojourn at Mayence is too dull. Paris calls for
you; go there; that is my desire. I am more disappointed than you; but we
must bow to circumstances." In a letter of January 11, he says; "I see
very few people here." But he saw the Polish lady, and that was enough.
Josephine, who suspected a rival, was in despair. Her husband wrote to
console her, January 16: "I have received yours of January 5. All that you
say of your disappointment saddens me. Why these tears and lamentations?
Have you not more courage? I shall soon see you; do not doubt my feelings,
and if you wish to be still dearer to me, show character and strength of
soul. I am humiliated to think that my wife can doubt my destinies. Good
by, my dear, I love you and long to see you, and want to hear that you are
contented and happy." In another letter, January 18, Napoleon tried to
cheer up Josephine, who was even more anxious and uneasy: "I fear you are
unhappy about our separation which must last some weeks yet, and about
returning to Paris. I beg of you to have more courage. I hear that you are
always crying. Fie, that is very bad! Your letter of January 7 gives me
much pain. Be worthy of me and show more character. Make a proper
appearance at Paris, and above all, be contented. I am very well, and I
love you much; but if you are always in tears, I shall think you have no
courage and no character. I do not love cowards; an Empress ought to have
some spirit."
Napoleon's will was not to be altered. Josephine was forced to leave her
daughter and to return to Paris. Her husband wrote to her from Warsaw: "I
have your letter of January 15. It is impossible for me to let women
undertake such a journey: bad roads, unsafe, and a slough of mud. Go back
to Paris; be happy and contented there; perhaps I shall be there soon. I
laugh at what you say, that you married to be with your husband. I had
thought in my ignorance that the wife was created for the husband, the
husband for the country, the family, and glory. Forgive my ignorance. Good
by, my dear, believe that I regret that I cannot have you come. Say to
yourself, 'It is a proof how dear I am to him.'" All these fine words
could not console Josephine, who knew from experience that Napoleon, like
many unfaithful husbands, had a smooth, tongue when he needed forgiveness.
In vain she had waited four months at Mayence for permission to rejoin her
husband. She at last, found herself obliged to leave this town where she
had no other pleasure than the sight of her daughter and her
grandchildren, from whom she parted with pain. January 27 she was at
Strassburg, and the 31st. at Paris.
XXI.
THE RETURN OF THE EMPRESS TO PARIS.
The Empress Josephine was much loved in France, and especially in Paris,
where her gentleness, amiability, and great kindliness had won for her all
sympathies, even those of people who were hostile to the Emperor. Her
return to the capital was greeted with pleasure, and her presence awakened
it from its previous gloom. The _Moniteur_ thus describes her passage
through the chief town of the department of the Lower Rhine. "Strassburg,
January 23, 1807. Her Majesty the Empress and Queen arrived within our
walls yesterday, the 27th, on her way from Mayence to Paris. Her Majesty
having consented to notify the Counsellor of State, Prefect Shée, that she
would accept a modest entertainment, this news spread lively joy
throughout this city. This proof of the Empress's kindness, accompanied by
the gracious memory she wished to testify for the people of Strassburg,
made the preparations for this impromptu event easy, and in spite of the
brief time between the announcement and the arrival of Her Majesty, a
numerous and brilliant company was soon assembled at the Prefecture. The
hall was elegantly decorated; the emblems and mottoes recalled the object
of the festivity. After a square dance and a waltz. Her Majesty passed
through the company, addressing a kind word to every lady present." The
next day, January 28, at seven in the morning, the Empress started, amid
cries of "Long live Josephine!" She reached the Tuileries January 31, at
eight in the evening. The next day, at noon, guns were fired at the
Invalides, to announce her return. The great bodies of the state solicited
the honor of offering her their homages. She was a little tired by her
journey, and was unable to receive them till February 5.