It is not, as has been stated in some Memoirs, because and as a result of
the slight disagreement which I have related above, that the first idea
of a divorce came to his Majesty. The Emperor thought it necessary for
the welfare of France that he should have an heir of his own line; and as
it was now certain that the Empress would never bear him one, he was
compelled to think of a divorce. But it was by most gentle means, and
with every mark of tender consideration, that he strove to bring the
Empress to this painful sacrifice. He had no recourse, as has been said,
to either threats or menaces, for it was to his wife's reason that he
appealed; and her consent was entirely voluntary. I repeat that there
was no violence on the part of the Emperor; but there was courage,
resignation, and submission on that of the Empress. Her devotion to the
Emperor would have made her submit to any sacrifice, she would have given
her life for him; and although this separation might break her own heart,
she still found consolation in the thought that by this means she would
save the one she loved more than all beside from even one cause of
distress or anxiety. And when she learned that the King of Rome was
born, she lost sight of her own disappointment in sympathizing with the
happiness of her friend; for they had always treated each other with all
the attention and respect of the most perfect friendship.
The Emperor had taken, during the whole day of the 26th, only a cup of
chocolate and a little soup; and I had heard him complain of hunger
several times before the Empress arrived. Peace being restored, the
husband and wife embraced each other tenderly, and the Empress passed on
into her apartments in order to make her toilet. During this time the
Emperor received Messieurs Decres and De Montalivet, whom he had
summoned in the morning by a mounted messenger; and about half-past seven
the Empress reappeared, dressed in perfect taste. In spite of the cold,
she had had her hair dressed with silver wheat and blue flowers, and wore
a white satin polonaise, edged with swan's down, which costume was
exceedingly becoming. The Emperor interrupted his work to regard her:
"I did not take long at my toilet, did I?" said she, smiling; whereupon
his Majesty, without replying, showed her the clock, then rose, gave her
his hand, and was about to enter the dining-room, saying to Messieurs De
Montalivet and Decres, "I will be with you in five minutes."--"But," said
the Empress, "these gentlemen have perhaps not yet dined, as they have
come from Paris."--"Ah, that is so!....." and the ministers entered the
dining-room with their Majesties. But hardly had the Emperor taken his
seat, than he rose, threw aside his napkin, and re-entered his cabinet,
where these gentlemen were compelled to follow him, though much against
their inclinations.
The day ended better than it had begun. In the evening there was a
reception, not large, but most agreeable, at which the Emperor was very
gay, and in excellent humor, and acted as if anxious to efface the memory
of the little scene with the Empress. Their Majesties remained at
Fontainebleau till the 14th of November. The King of Saxony had arrived
the evening before at Paris; and the Emperor, who rode on horseback
nearly all the way from Fontainebleau to Paris, repaired on his arrival
to the Palace de l'Elysee. The two monarchs appeared very agreeably
impressed with each other, and went in public together almost every day,
and one morning early left the Tuileries on foot, each accompanied by a
single escort. I was with the Emperor. They directed their steps,
following the course of the stream, towards the bridge of Jena, the work
on which was being rapidly carried to completion, and reached the Place
de la Revolution, where fifty or sixty persons collected with the
intention of accompanying the two sovereigns; but as this seemed to annoy
the Emperor, agents of the police caused them to disperse. When he had
reached the bridge, his Majesty examined the work attentively; and
finding some defects in the construction, had the architect called, who
admitted the correctness of his observations, although, in order to
convince him, the Emperor had to talk for some time, and often repeated
the same explanations. His Majesty, turning then towards the King of
Saxony, said to him, "You see, my cousin, that the master's eye is
necessary everywhere."--"Yes," replied the King of Saxony; "especially an
eye so well trained as your Majesty's."
We had not been long at Fontainebleau, when I noticed that the Emperor in
the presence of his august spouse was preoccupied and ill at ease. The
same uneasiness was visible on the countenance of the Empress; and this
state of constraint and mutual embarrassment soon became sufficiently
evident to be remarked by all, and rendered the stay at Fontainebleau
extremely sad and depressing. At Paris the presence of the King of
Saxony made some diversion; but the Empress appeared more unhappy than
ever, which gave rise to numerous conjectures, but as for me, I knew only
too well the cause of it all. The Emperor's brow became more furrowed
with care each day, until the 30th of November arrived.
On that day the dinner was more silent than ever. The Empress had wept
the whole day; and in order to conceal as far as possible her pallor, and
the redness of her eyes, wore a large white hat tied under her chin, the
brim of which concealed her face entirely. The Emperor sat in silence,
his eyes fastened on his plate, while from time to time convulsive
movements agitated his countenance; and if he happened to raise his eyes,
glanced stealthily at the Empress with unmistakable signs of distress.
The officers of the household, immovable as statues, regarded this
painful and gloomy scene with sad anxiety; while the whole repast was
simply a form, as their Majesties touched nothing, and no sound was heard
but the regular movement of plates placed and carried away, varied sadly
by the monotonous tones of the household officers, and the tinkling sound
made by the Emperor's striking his knife mechanically on the edge of his
glass. Once only his Majesty broke the silence by a deep sigh, followed
by these words addressed to one of the officers: "What time is it?" An
aimless question of the Emperor's, it seemed, for he did not hear, or at
any rate did not seem to hear, the answer; but almost immediately he rose
from the table, and the Empress followed him with slow steps, and her
handkerchief pressed against her lips as if to suppress her sobs. Coffee
was brought, and, according to custom, a page presented the waiter to the
Empress that she might herself pour it out; but the Emperor took it
himself, poured the coffee in the cup, and dissolved the sugar, still
regarding the Empress, who remained standing as if struck with a stupor.
He drank, and returned the cup to the page; then gave a signal that he
wished to be alone, and closed the door of the saloon. I remained
outside seated by the door; and soon no one remained in the dining-room
except one of the prefects of the palace, who walked up and down with
folded arms, foreseeing, as well as I, terrible events. At the end of a
few moments I heard cries, and sprang up; just then the Emperor opened
the door quickly, looked out, and saw there no one but us two. The
Empress lay on the floor, screaming as if her heart were breaking: "No;
you will not do it! You would not kill me!" The usher of the room had
his back turned. I advanced towards him; he understood, and went out.
His Majesty ordered the person who was with me to enter, and the door was
again closed. I have since learned that the Emperor requested him to
assist him in carrying the Empress to her apartment. "She has," he said,
"a violent nervous attack, and her condition requires most prompt
attention." M. de B----- with the Emperor's assistance raised the
Empress in his arms; and the Emperor, taking a lamp from the mantel,
lighted M. de B----- along the passage from which ascended the little
staircase leading to the apartments of the Empress. This staircase was
so narrow, that a man with such a burden could not go down without great
risk of falling; and M. de B-----, having called his Majesty's attention
to this, he summoned the keeper of the portfolio, whose duty it was to be
always at the door of the Emperor's cabinet which opened on this
staircase, and gave him the light, which was no longer needed, as the
lamps had just been lighted. His Majesty passed in front of the keeper,
who still held the light, and carrying the feet of the Empress himself,
descended the staircase safely with M. de B-----; and they thus reached
the bedroom. The Emperor rang for her women, and when they entered,
retired with tears in his eyes and every sign of the deepest emotion.
This scene affected him so deeply that he said to M. de B----- in a
trembling, broken tone, some words which he must never reveal under any
circumstances. The Emperor's agitation must have been very great for him
to have informed M. de B----- of the cause of her Majesty's despair, and
to have told him that the interests of France and of the Imperial Dynasty
had done violence to his heart, and the divorce had become a duty,
deplorable and painful, but none the less a duty.
Queen Hortense and M. Corvisart soon reached the Empress, who passed a
miserable night. The Emperor also did not sleep, and rose many times to
ascertain Josephine's condition. During the whole night her Majesty did
not utter a word. I have never witnessed such grief.
Immediately after this, the King of Naples, the King of Westphalia, the
King of Wurtemberg, and the king and princesses of the Imperial family,
arrived at Paris to be present at the fetes given by the city of Paris to
his Majesty in commemoration of the victories and the pacification of
Germany, and at the same time to celebrate the anniversary of the
coronation. The session of the legislative corps was also about to open.
It was necessary, in the interval between the scene which I have just
described and the day on which the decree of divorce was signed, that the
Empress should be present on all these occasions, and attend all these
fetes, under the eyes of an immense crowd of people, at a time when
solitude alone could have in any degree alleviated her sorrow; it was
also necessary that she should cover up her face with rouge in order to
conceal her pallor and the signs of a month passed in tears. What
tortures she endured, and how much she must have bewailed this elevation,
of which nothing remained to her but the necessity of concealing her
feelings!
On the 3d of December their Majesties repaired to Notre Dame, where a
'Te Deum' was sung; after which the Imperial cortege marched to the
palace of the Corps Legislatif, and the opening of the session was held
with unusual magnificence. The Emperor took his place amidst
inexpressible enthusiasm, and never had his appearance excited such
bursts of applause: even the Empress was more cheerful for an instant,
and seemed to enjoy these proofs of affection for one who was soon to be
no longer her husband; but when he began to speak she relapsed into her
gloomy reflections.
It was almost five o'clock when the cortege returned to the Tuileries,
and the Imperial banquet was to take place at half-past seven. During
this interval, a reception of the ambassadors was held, after which the
guests passed on to the gallery of Diana.
The Emperor held a grand dining in his coronation robes, and wearing his
plumed hat, which he did not remove for an instant. He ate more than was
his custom, notwithstanding the distress under which he seemed to be
laboring, glanced around and behind him every moment, causing the grand
chamberlain continually to bend forward to receive orders which he did
not give. The Empress was seated in front of him, most magnificently
dressed in an embroidered robe blazing with diamonds; but her face
expressed even more suffering than in the morning.
On the right of the Emperor was seated the King of Saxony, in a white
uniform with red facings, and collar richly embroidered in silver,
wearing a false cue of prodigious length.
By the side of the King of Saxony was the King of Westphalia, Jerome
Bonaparte, in a white satin tunic, and girdle ornamented with pearls and
diamonds, which reached almost up to his arms. His neck was bare and
white, and he wore no whiskers and very little beard; a collar of
magnificent lace fell over his shoulders; and a black velvet cap
ornamented with white plumes, which was the most elegant in the assembly,
completed this costume. Next him was the King of Wurtemberg with his
enormous stomach, which forced him to sit some distance from the table;
and the King of Naples, in so magnificent a costume that it might almost
be considered extravagant, covered with crosses and stars, who played
with his fork, without eating or drinking.
On the right of the Empress was Madame Mere, the Queen of Westphalia, the
Princess Borghese, and Queen Hortense, pale as the Empress, but rendered
only more beautiful by her sadness, her face presenting a striking
contrast on this occasion to that of the Princess Pauline, who never
appeared in better spirits. Princess Pauline wore an exceedingly
handsome toilet; but this did not increase the charms of her person
nearly so much as that worn by the Queen of Holland, which, though
simple, was elegant and full of taste.
Next day a magnificent fete was held at the Hotel de Ville, where the
Empress displayed her accustomed grace and kind consideration. This was
the last time she appeared on occasions of ceremony.
A few days after all these rejoicings, the Vice-king of Italy, Eugene de
Beauharnais, arrived, and learned from the lips of the Empress herself
the terrible measure which circumstances were about to render necessary.
This news overcame him: agitated and despairing, he sought his Majesty;
and, as if he could not believe what he had just heard asked the Emperor
if it was true that a divorce was about to take place. The Emperor made
a sign in the affirmative, and, with deep grief depicted on his
countenance, held out his hand to his adopted son. "Sire, allow me to
quit your service."--"What!"--"Yes, Sire; the son of one who is no longer
Empress cannot remain vice-king. I wish to accompany my mother to her
retreat, and console her."--"Do you wish to leave me, Eugene? You? Ah,
you do not know how imperious are the reasons which force me to pursue
such a course. And if I obtain this son, the object of my most cherished
wishes, this son who is so necessary to me, who will take my place with
him when I shall be absent? Who will be a father to him when I die? Who
will rear him, and who will make a man of him?" Tears filled the
Emperor's eyes as he pronounced these words; he again took Eugene's hand,
and drawing him to his arms, embraced him tenderly. I did not hear the
remainder of this interesting conversation.
At last the fatal day arrived; it was the 16th of December. The Imperial
family were assembled in ceremonial costume, when the Empress entered in
a simple white dress, entirely devoid of ornament; she was pale, but
calm, and leaned on the arm of Queen Hortense, who was equally as pale,
and much more agitated than her august mother. The Prince de Beauharnais
stood beside the Emperor, and trembled so violently that it was thought
he would fall every moment. When the Empress entered, Count Regnaud de
Saint-Jean d'Angely read the act of separation.
This was heard in the midst of profound silence, and the deepest concern
was depicted on every face. The Empress appeared calmer than any one
else in the assemblage, although tears incessantly flowed from her eyes.
She was seated in an armchair in the midst of the saloon, resting her
elbow on a table, while Queen Hortense stood sobbing behind her. The
reading of the act ended, the Empress rose, dried her eyes, and in a
voice which was almost firm, pronounced the words of assent, then seated
herself in a chair, took a pen from the hand of M. Regnaud de Saint-Jean
d'Angely, and signed the act. She then withdrew, leaning on the arm of
Queen Hortense; and Prince Eugene endeavored to retire at the same moment
through the cabinet, but his strength failed, and he fell insensible
between the two doors. The cabinet usher immediately raised him up, and
committed him to the care of his aide-de-camp, who lavished on him every
attention which his sad condition demanded.
During this terrible ceremony the Emperor uttered not a word, made not a
gesture, but stood immovable as a statue, his gaze fixed and almost wild,
and remained silent and gloomy all day. In the evening, when he had just
retired, as I was awaiting his last orders, the door opened, and the
Empress entered, her hair in disorder, and her countenance showing great
agitation. This sight terrified me. Josephine (for she was now no more
than Josephine) advanced towards the Emperor with a trembling step, and
when she reached him, paused, and weeping in the most heartrending
manner, threw herself on the bed, placed her arms around the Emperor's
neck, and lavished on him most endearing caresses. I cannot describe my
emotions. The Emperor wept also, sat up and pressed Josephine to his
heart, saying to her, "Come, my good Josephine, be more reasonable!
Come, courage, courage; I will always be your friend." Stifled by her
sobs, the Empress could not reply; and there followed a silent scene, in
which their tears and sobs flowed together, and said more than the
tenderest expressions could have done. At last his Majesty, recovering
from this momentary forgetfulness as from a dream, perceived that I was
there, and said to me in a voice choked with tears, "Withdraw, Constant."
I obeyed, and went into the adjoining saloon; and an hour after Josephine
passed me, still sad and in tears, giving me a kind nod as she passed.
I then returned to the sleeping-room to remove the light as usual; the
Emperor was silent as death, and so covered with the bedclothes that his
face could not be seen.
The next morning when I entered the Emperor's room he did not mention
this visit of the Empress; but I found him suffering and dejected, and
sighs which he could not repress issued from his breast. He did not
speak during the whole time his toilet lasted, and as soon as it was
completed entered his cabinet. This was the day on which Josephine was
to leave the Tuileries for Malmaison, and all persons not engaged in
their duties assembled in the vestibule to see once more this dethroned
empress whom all hearts followed in her exile. They looked at her
without daring to speak, as Josephine appeared, completely veiled, one
hand resting on the shoulder of one of her ladies, and the other holding
a handkerchief to her eyes. A concert of inexpressible lamentations
arose as this adored woman crossed the short space which separated her
from her carriage, and entered it without even a glance at the palace she
was--quitting--quitting forever;--the blinds were immediately lowered,
and the horses set off at full speed.