THE DAYS OF MISFORTUNE.
The round of festivities with which the people of France endeavored to
banish the shadow of impending misfortune, was soon to be abruptly
terminated. The thunder of the cannon on the battle-fields of Hanau and
Leipsic silenced the dancing-music in the Tuileries; and in the
drawing-rooms of Queen Hortense, hitherto devoted to music and
literature, the ladies were now busily engaged in picking lint for the
wounded who were daily arriving at the hospitals of Paris from the army.
The declaration of war of Austria and Russia had aroused France from its
haughty sense of invincibility. All felt that a crisis was at hand. All
were preparing for the ominous events that were gathering like
storm-clouds over France. Each of the faithful hastened to assume the
position to which honor and duty called him. And it was in response to
such an appeal that Louis Bonaparte now returned from Grätz to Paris; he
had heard the ominous tones of the voice that threatened the emperor,
and wished to be at his side in the hour of danger.
It was not as the wife, but in the spirit of a Frenchwoman and a queen,
that Hortense received the intelligence of her husband's return. "I am
delighted to hear it," said she; "my husband is a good Frenchman, and he
proves it by returning at the moment when all Europe has declared
against France. He is a man of honor, and if our characters could not be
made to harmonize, it was probably because we both had defects that were
irreconcilable.
"I," added she, with a gentle smile, "I was too proud, I had been
spoiled, and was probably too deeply impressed with a sense of my own
worth; and this defect is not conducive to pleasant relations with one
who is distrustful and low-spirited. But our interests were always the
same, and his hastening to France, to enroll himself with all his
brother Frenchmen, for the defence of his country, is worthy of the
king's character. It is only by doing thus that we can testify our
gratitude for the benefits the people have conferred upon our
family[23]."
[Footnote 23: Cochelet, Mémoires sur la reine Hortense, vol. i., p.
167.]
In the first days of January, 1814, the news that the enemy had crossed
the boundaries of France, and that the Austrians, Russians, and
Prussians, were marching on Paris, created a panic throughout the entire
city. For the first time, after so many years of triumph, France
trembled for its proud army, and believed in the possibility of defeat.
In the Tuileries, also, gloom and dejection ruled the hour for the first
time; and while, when the army had heretofore gone forth, the question
had been, "When shall we receive the first intelligence of victory?"
there were now only mute, inquiring glances bent on the emperor's
clouded countenance.
On the 24th of January, Napoleon left Paris, in order to repair to the
army. The empress, whom he had made regent, giving her a council,
consisting of his brothers and the ministers, as a support--the empress
had taken leave of him in a flood of tears, and Queen Hortense, who had
alone been present on this occasion, had been compelled to remain for
some time with the empress, in order to console and encourage her.
But Hortense was far from feeling the confidence which she exhibited in
the presence of the empress and of her own court. She had never believed
in the duration of these triumphs and of this fortune; she had always
awaited the coming evil in silent expectation, and she was therefore now
ready to face it bravely, and to defend herself and her children against
its attacks. She therefore was calm and self-possessed, while the entire
imperial family was terror-stricken, while all Paris was in a panic,
while the fearful intelligence, "The Cossacks are coming, the Cossacks
are marching on Paris!" was overrunning the city. "The Grand-duke
Constantine has promised his troops that they shall warm themselves at
the burning ruins of Paris, and the Emperor Alexander has sworn that he
will sleep in the Tuileries."
Nothing was now dreamed of but plundering, murder, and rapine; people
trembled not only for their lives, but also for their property, and
hastened to bury their treasures, their jewelry, their gold and silver,
to secure it from the rapacious hands of the terrible Cossacks.
Treasures were buried in cellars, or hid away in the walls of houses.
The Duchess de Bassano caused all her valuable effects to be put in a
hidden recess, and the entrance to the same to be walled up and covered
with paper. There were among these valuable effects several large
clocks, in golden cases, that were richly studded with precious stones,
but it had unfortunately been forgotten to stop them, so that for the
next week they continued to strike the hours regularly, and thereby
betrayed to the neighbors the secret the duchess had so anxiously
endeavored to conceal.
But the cry, "The Cossacks are coming!" was not the only alarm-cry of
the Parisians. Another, and a long-silent cry, was now heard in Paris--a
strange cry, that had no music for the ear of the imperialist, but one
that, to the royalist, had a sweet and familiar sound. This cry was,
"The Count de Lille!" or, as the royalists said, "King Louis XVIII." The
royalists no longer whispered this name, but proclaimed it loudly and
with enthusiasm, and even those of them who had attached themselves to
the imperial court, and played a part at the same, now dared to remove
their masks a little, and show their true countenance.
Madame Ducayla, one of the most zealous royalists, although attached to
the court society of the Tuileries, had gone to Hartwell, to convey to
him messages of love and respect in the name of all the royalists of
Paris, and to tell him that they had now begun to smooth the way for his
return to France and the throne of his ancestors. She had returned with
authority to organize the conspiracy of the royalists, and to give them
the king's sanction. Talleyrand, the minister of Napoleon, the
glittering weathercock in politics, had already experienced a change in
disposition, in consequence of the shifting political wind, and when
Countess Ducayla, provided with secret instructions for Talleyrand from
Louis XVIII., entered his cabinet and said in a loud voice, "I come from
Hartwell, I have seen the king, and he has instructed me--" he
interrupted her in loud and angry tones, exclaiming: "Are you mad,
madame? You dare to confess such a crime to me?" He had, however, then
added in a low voice: "You have seen him, then? Well, I am his most
devoted servant[24]."
[Footnote 24: Mémoires d'une femme de qualité, vol. i., p. 133.]
The royalists held meetings and formed conspiracies with but little
attempt at concealment, and the minister of police, Fouché, whose eyes
and ears were always on the alert, and who knew of everything that
occurred in Paris, also knew of these conspiracies of the royalists; he
did not prevent them, however, but advised caution, endeavoring to
prove to them thereby the deep reverence which he himself experienced
for the unfortunate royal family.
In the midst of all this confusion and anxiety, Queen Hortense alone
preserved her composure and courage, and far from endeavoring, like
others, to conceal and secure her treasures, jewelry, and other
valuables, she determined to make no change or reduction whatever in her
manner of living; she wished to show the Parisians that the confidence
of the imperial family in the emperor and his invincibility was not to
be shaken. She therefore continued to conduct her household in truly
royal style, although she had received from the exhausted state treasury
no payment of the appanage set apart for herself and children for a
period of three months. But she thought little of this; her generous
heart was occupied with entirely different interests than those of her
own pecuniary affairs.
She wished to inspire Marie Louise, whom the emperor had constituted
empress-regent on his departure for the army, with the courage which she
herself possessed. She conjured her to show herself worthy of the
confidence the emperor had reposed in her at this critical time, and to
adopt firm and energetic measures. When, on the 28th of March, the
terror-inspiring news was circulated that the hostile armies were only
five leagues from Paris, and while the people were flying from the city
in troops, Hortense hastened to the Tuileries to conjure the empress to
be firm, and not to leave Paris. She entreated Marie Louise, in the
name of the emperor, her husband, and the King of Rome, her son, not to
heed the voice of the state council, who, after a long sitting, had
unanimously declared that Paris could not be held, and that the empress,
with her son and her council, should therefore leave the capital.
But Marie Louise had remained deaf to all these pressing and energetic
representations, and the queen had not been able to inspire her young
and weak sister-in-law with her own resolution.
"My sister," Hortense had said to her, "you will at least understand
that by leaving Paris now you paralyze its defence, and thereby endanger
your crown, but I see that you are resigned to this sacrifice."
"It is true," Marie Louise had sadly replied. "I well know that I should
act differently, but it is too late. The state council has decided, and
I can do nothing!"
In sadness and dejection Hortense had then returned to her dwelling,
where Lavalette, Madame Ney, and the ladies of her court, awaited her.
"All is lost," said she, sadly. "Yes, all is lost. The empress has
determined to leave Paris. She lightly abandons France and the emperor.
She is about to depart."
"If she does that," exclaimed General Lavalette, in despair, "then all
is really lost, and yet her firmness and courage might now save the
emperor, who is advancing toward Paris by forced marches. After all this
weighing and deliberating, they have elected to take the worst course
they could choose! But, as this has finally been determined on, what
course will your majesty now pursue?"
"I remain in Paris," said the queen, resolutely; "as I am permitted to
be mistress of my own actions, I am resolved to remain here and share
the fortunes of the Parisians, be they good or evil! This is at least a
better and worthier course than to incur the risk of being made a
prisoner on the public highway."
Now that she had come to a decision, the queen exhibited a joyous
determination, and her mind recovered from its depression. She hastened
to dispatch a courier to Malmaison to the Empress Josephine, now
forgotten and neglected by all, to conjure her to leave for Novara at
once. She then retired to her bedchamber to seek the rest she so much
needed after so many hours of excitement.
But at midnight she was aroused from her repose to a sad awakening. Her
husband, with whom she had held no kind of intercourse since his return,
had now, in the hour of danger, determined to assert his marital
authority over his wife and children. He wrote the queen a letter,
requiring her to leave Paris with her children, and follow the empress.
Hortense replied with a decided refusal. A second categoric message from
her husband was the response. He declared that if she should not at once
conform to his will, and follow the empress with her children, he would
immediately take his children into his own custody, by virtue of his
authority as husband and father.
At this threat, the queen sprang up like an enraged lioness from her
lair. With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes she commanded that her
children should be at once brought to her, and then, pressing her two
boys to her heart with passionate tenderness, she exclaimed: "Tell the
king that I shall leave the city within the hour!"