JOSEPHINE AT MALMAISON.
A.D. 1796-A.D. 1799
Contemplated invasion of England.--Expedition to Egypt.--Hopes of the
Directory.--Napoleon's dislike of the Revolution.--Napoleon a Royalist.
--Sailing of the expedition.--A corps of _savants_.--Josephine in
Toulon.--Plan of Napoleon.--No obstacle insurmountable.--Loneliness
of Josephine.--Residence at Plombieres.--Josephine sends for her
daughter.--Letter to Madame Campan.--Napoleon sends a frigate for
Josephine.--Serious accident.--Capture of the Pomona frigate.--Purchase
of Malmaison.--Josephine removes thither.--Espionage of Napoleon.--
Playfulness of Hortense.--Carrat.--The apparition.--Hortense a
tormentor.--A shower-bath in embryo.--Fruits of loving darkness rather
than light.--Murder! fire!--Josephine's seal for her husband.--Letter
to an emigrant.--Remarks of Barras.--Good advice offered.--
Correspondence intercepted.--False charges against Josephine.--
Napoleon's confidence impaired.--Employments of Josephine.--She visits
the poor.--She comforts the afflicted.--Benevolence of Josephine's
heart.
The Directory in Paris became daily more and more alarmed, in view of
the vast and ever-increasing popularity of the conqueror of Italy. A
plan had been formed for the invasion of England, and this was deemed a
good opportunity for sending from France their dangerous rival. Napoleon
was appointed commander-in-chief of the army of England. He visited the
coast, and devoted ten days and nights, with his extraordinary rapidity
of apprehension, in investigating the prospects of success. He returned
to Paris, saying, "It is too doubtful a chance. I will not hazard on
such a throw the fate of France." All his energies were then turned to
his Egyptian expedition. He hoped to gain reputation and power in Egypt,
pass through into India, raise an army of natives, headed by European
officers and energized by an infusion of European soldiers, and thus
drive the English out of India. It was a bold plan. The very grandeur of
the enterprise roused the enthusiasm of France. The Directory, secretly
rejoicing at the prospect of sending Napoleon so far away, and hoping
that he would perish on the sands of Africa, without much reluctance
agreed to his proposal.
Napoleon never loved the Revolution, and he most thoroughly detested the
infamous and sanguinary despotism which had risen upon the ruins of the
altar and the throne. He chanced to be in Paris when the drunken and
ragged mob, like an inundation, broke into the Tuilleries, and heaped
upon the humiliated Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette the most infamous
outrages. He saw the monarch standing at the window of his palace, with
the dirty red cap of Jacobinism thrust upon that brow which had worn the
crown of Charlemagne. At the sight, the blood boiled in the veins of the
youthful Napoleon. He could not endure the spectacle. Turning upon his
heel, he indignantly exclaimed, "The wretches! had they mown down four
or five hundred with grape-shot, the rest would speedily have taken to
flight."
He often expressed his dislike of the violent revolutionary course which
the Directory were pursuing, and stated freely to his friends, "For my
part, I declare, that if I had only the option between royalty and the
system of these gentlemen, I would not hesitate for one moment to
declare for a king." Just before Napoleon embarked for the East,
Bourrienne asked him if he was really determined to risk his fate on the
perilous expedition to Egypt. "Yes!" he replied. "If I should remain
here, it would be necessary to overturn this miserable government, and
make myself king. But we must not think of that yet. The nobles will not
consent to it. I have sounded, but I find the time for that has not yet
arrived. I must first dazzle these gentlemen by my exploits."
On the morning of the 19th of May, 1798, the fleet set sail from the
harbor of Toulon. It was a morning of surpassing loveliness, and seldom,
if ever, has the unclouded sun shone upon a more brilliant scene. The
magnificent armament extended over a semicircle of not less than
eighteen miles. The fleet consisted of thirteen ships of the line,
fourteen frigates, and four hundred transports. They carried forty
thousand picked soldiers, and officers of the highest celebrity. For the
first time in the world, a corps of scientific gentlemen was attached to
a military expedition. One hundred eminent artists and connoisseurs
Napoleon had collected to gather the antiquarian treasures of Egypt,
and to extend the boundaries of science by the observation of the
phenomena of nature. They formed a part of the staff of the invading
army.
Josephine accompanied her husband to Toulon, and remained with him until
his embarkation. She was extremely anxious to go with him to Egypt, and
with tears plead that he would allow her to share his hardships and his
perils. Napoleon, however, deemed the hazards to which they would be
exposed, and the fatigues and sufferings they must necessarily endure,
as quite too formidable for Josephine to encounter. But in the anguish
of their parting, which is described as most tender, she wrung from him
a promise to allow her to follow as soon as affairs in the East should
render it prudent for her to do so. It can hardly be possible, however,
that Napoleon ever expected to see her in Egypt. He himself has thus
described the objects he had in view in this vast enterprise: "1. To
establish on the banks of the Nile a French colony, which could exist
without slaves, and supply the place of Saint Domingo. 2. To open a
market for the manufactures of France in Africa, Arabia, and Syria, and
to obtain for the productions of his countrymen the productions of those
countries. 3. To set out from Egypt, with an army of sixty thousand men,
for the Indus, rouse the Mahrattas to a revolt, and excite against the
English the population of those vast countries. Sixty thousand men, half
Europeans, half natives, transported on fifty thousand camels and ten
thousand horses, carrying with them provisions for fifty days, water for
six, with one hundred and fifty pieces of cannon and double ammunition,
would arrive in four months in India. The ocean ceased to be an obstacle
when vessels were constructed. The desert becomes passable the moment
you have camels and dromedaries in abundance."
As the fleet got under way, Josephine stood upon a balcony, with tearful
eyes, gazing upon the scene, so imposing, and yet so sorrowful to her.
The Orient, a ship of enormous magnitude, contained her husband and her
son. They were going into the midst of dangers from whence it was
doubtful whether they would ever return. She fixed her eyes upon the
ship as its lessening sails grew fainter and fainter in the distance,
until the hardly discernible speck disappeared beneath the horizon,
which the blue waves of the Mediterranean outlined. She retired to her
room with those feelings of loneliness and desolation which the
circumstances were so peculiarly calculated to inspire.
It was arranged that Josephine should take up her residence,
until Napoleon should send for her, at Plombieres, a celebrated
watering-place, whose medicinal springs were supposed to be very
efficacious in restoring maternity. She sent for Hortense, at that time
fifteen years of age, and who was then in the boarding-school of the
distinguished Madame Campan. Josephine wished for her daughter to be her
companion during the weary hours of her absence from her husband. She
was expecting that, as soon as a landing should be effected in Egypt, a
frigate would be dispatched to convey her to the banks of the Nile. She
found solace during the lingering weeks of expectation in devoting
herself to the instruction of her daughter. Her comprehensive and
excellent views on the subject of education are developed in a letter
which she at this time wrote to Madame Campan, to accompany a niece who
was to return to her school:
"MY DEAR MADAME CAMPAN,--With my niece, whom I return to
your charge, receive also my thanks and my reproof. The
former are due for the great care and brilliant education
which you have bestowed upon the child; the latter, for the
faults which your sagacity must have discovered, but which
your indulgence has tolerated. The girl is gentle, but shy;
well informed, but haughty; talented, but thoughtless. She
does not please, and takes no pains to render herself
agreeable. She conceives that the reputation of her uncle
and the bravery of her father are every thing. Teach her,
and that by the most effectual means, how absolutely
unavailing are those qualities which are not personal. We
live in an age where each is the author of his own fortunes;
and if those who serve the state in the first ranks ought to
have some advantages and enjoy some privileges, they should,
on that account, strive only to render themselves more
beloved and more useful. It is solely by acting thus that
they can have some chance of excusing their good fortune in
the eyes of envy. Of these things, my dear Madame Campan,
you must not allow my niece to remain ignorant; and such are
the instructions which, in my name, you should repeat to her
constantly. It is my pleasure that she treat as equals every
one of her companions, most of whom are better or as good
as herself, their only inferiority consisting in not having
relations so able or so fortunate."
Notwithstanding Napoleon's strong disinclination to have Josephine join
him in Egypt, and though in every letter he strongly urged her to
relinquish the plan, she was so importunate in her solicitations that he
sent the Pomona frigate to convey her across the Mediterranean. She was
prevented from embarking by an accident, which she must have deemed a
very serious calamity, but which probably saved her from years of
captivity. She was one morning sitting in her saloon, busy with her
needle, and conversing with several ladies who were her companions and
intimate friends, when a lady who was standing in the balcony called the
attention of the party to a very beautiful dog which was passing in the
street. All the ladies rushed upon the balcony, when, with a fearful
crash, it broke down, and precipitated them upon the pavement. Though no
lives were lost, several of the party were dreadfully injured. Josephine
was so severely bruised as to be utterly helpless, and for some time
she was fed like an infant. It was several months before she was
sufficiently recovered to be able to leave her house. This grievous
disappointment, however, probably saved her from another, which would
have been far more severely felt. The frigate in which she was to have
embarked, had it not been for this accident, was captured by one of the
English cruisers and taken to London.
Napoleon went to Egypt because he thought it the shortest route to the
vacant throne of the Bourbons. He despised the rulers who were degrading
France, and placing a stigma upon popular liberty by their ignorance and
their violence, and he resolved upon their overthrow. Consequently,
while guiding the movements of his army upon the banks of the Nile, his
attention was continually directed to Paris. He wrote to Josephine that
he intended ere long to return, and directed her to purchase a pleasant
country seat somewhere in the vicinity of Paris.
About ten miles from the metropolis and five miles from Versailles there
was a beautiful chateau, most charmingly situated, called Malmaison.
This estate Josephine purchased, greatly enlarging the grounds, at an
expense of about one hundred thousand dollars. This lovely retreat
possessed unfailing rural attraction for a mind formed, like that of
Josephine, for the rich appreciation of all that is lovely in the
aspects of nature. Napoleon was delighted with the purchase, and
expended subsequently incredible sums in repairs and enlargements, and
in embellishments of statues, paintings, and furniture. This was ever
the favorite residence of Napoleon and Josephine.
As the leaves of autumn began to fall, Josephine, who had been slowly
recovering from the effects of the accident, left Plombieres and took up
her residence at Malmaison. Napoleon was absent in Egypt about eighteen
months. During the winter and the ensuing summer, Josephine remained
with Hortense, and several other ladies, who composed her most agreeable
household, in this beautiful retreat. The celebrity of Napoleon
surrounded them with friends, and that elegant mansion was the resort of
the most illustrious in rank and intellect. Napoleon, who had ever a
spice of jealousy in his nature, had every thing reported to him which
occurred at Malmaison. He was informed respecting all the guests who
visited the chateau, and of the conversation which passed in every
interview.
Hortense was a lively girl of fifteen, and the time hung rather heavily
upon her hands. She amused herself in playing all manner of pranks upon
a very singular valet de chambre, by the name of Carrat, whom her mother
had brought from Italy. This man was very timid and eccentric, but, with
most enthusiastic devotion, attached to the service of Josephine.
One evening Carrat received orders to attend Madame Bonaparte and
several ladies who were with her in their twilight walk through the
magnificent park belonging to the estate. Carrat, ever delighted with
an opportunity to display his attachment to his kind mistress, obeyed
with great alacrity. No ladies in peril could desire a more valiant
knight-errant than the vaunting little Italian assumed to be. They
had not advanced far into the somber shadows of the grove when they
saw, solemnly emerging from the obscurity, a tall specter in its
winding-sheet. The fearful apparition approached the party, when the
valet, terrified beyond all power of self-control, and uttering the most
fearful shrieks, abandoned the ladies to the tender mercies of the
ghost, and fled. The phantom, with its white drapery fluttering in
the wind, pursued him. Soon the steps of the affrighted valet began
to falter, and he dropped upon the ground, insensible, in a fit.
Hortense, who had been perfectly convulsed with laughter in view of the
triumphant success of her experiment, was now correspondingly alarmed.
The ghost was a fellow-servant of Carrat, who had been dressed out under
the superintendence of the mischievous Hortense.
As the poor man recovered without any serious injury and without the
slightest diminution of his excessive vanity, the fun-loving Hortense
could not repress her propensity still to make him the butt of her
practical jokes. It was a defect in her character that she could find
pleasure in this mischievous kind of torment. It is not improbable that
this trait of character, which appears so excusable in a mirthful girl
of fifteen, was the cause of that incessant train of sorrows which
subsequently embittered her whole life. Carrat was perfectly devoted to
Josephine; Hortense was his torment.
The unlucky valet occupied a sleeping-room separated from another only
by a thin deal partition. A hole was made through this, and a pail of
water so suspended in equilibrium over the pillow of the victim, that by
drawing a cord the whole contents would be emptied upon his head. The
supports of the bedstead had also been removed, so that the whole fabric
would fall as soon as any weight was placed upon it. Carrat, among his
other eccentricities, was ever in the habit of going to bed without a
light. Matters being thus prepared, Hortense, who had employed an
attendant to aid her in her plans, stood in an adjoining room to enjoy
the catastrophe.
The poor man entered his room, and threw himself upon his pallet. Down
it came with a crash, and his shriek of fright was for a moment drowned
in the inundation of water. Hortense, knowing the almost delirious fear
which the puerile valet had of reptiles, cried, "Poor man! poor man!
what will he do. The water was full of toads." Carrat, in utter
darkness, drenched with cold water, and overwhelmed in the ruins of
his bed and bedding, shrieked, "Murder! help! fire! drowning!" while
Hortense and her accomplices enjoyed his ludicrous terror. She afterward
made him a handsome present as a compensation. Hortense was not a
malicious girl, but, like many others who are mirthful and thoughtless,
she found a strange pleasure in teasing. Josephine's only happiness was
in making others happy. "It is a necessity of my heart," she said, "to
love those around me, and to be loved by them in return." How much more
noble such a spirit!
Though Josephine was not fully informed respecting the ultimate designs
of Napoleon, and though Napoleon at this time probably had no very
definite plans respecting his future actions, his interests manifestly
required that she should exert all her powers to strengthen the ties of
those who were already his friends, and to gain others to his rising
name. Josephine acquired great influence over many members of the
Directory, and this influence she was continually exerting for the
relief of those who were in distress. Many of the proscribed emigrants
were indebted to her for liberty and the restoration of their forfeited
estates. The following letter from Josephine to an emigrant, whose
fortune, and perhaps life, she had saved, exhibits her intellectual
elevation as well as the amiability of her heart.
"SIR,--Your petition, which reached Malmaison on the 12th,
was presented the same evening, and by myself, to Citizen
Barras. I have the pleasure to announce to you that the
decision is favorable, and that now, erased from the fatal
list, you are restored to all the rights of a French
citizen. But in transmitting a communication not less
agreeable to me than to yourself, permit me to enhance its
value by repeating to you the exact words with which it was
accompanied by the Director. 'I have usually little to deny
you, madame,' said he, presenting me with a sealed inclosure
containing the act of restoration, 'and certainly, when
humanity is concerned, I can have far less objection. But
pity for misfortune does not exclude justice, and justice is
inseparable from the love of truth. As unfortunate, M. de
Sansal merits commiseration. As an emigrant, he has right to
none. I will say more; had I been disposed to be severe,
there existed a cause for stern reprisals on the part of a
government to whose kindness he replies by insults. Although
I despise those of such a man, I appreciate them. They prove
an ungrateful heart and a narrow mind. Let him be careful
about expressing his hatred. All my colleagues are not
equally indulgent.'
"Blame only yourself, sir, for the small share of amenity in
these counsels. They are harsh, perhaps, but useful; and you
will do well to render them effective. Regard, also, the
faithfulness with which I transcribe them as a proof of the
deep interest I take in your welfare, and of my anxiety that
the interference of your friends may be justified by your
future conduct."
For some time a very constant correspondence was kept up between
Napoleon and Josephine, but after the destruction of the French fleet by
Lord Nelson in the Bay of Aboukir, and when the Mediterranean had become
completely blocked up by English cruisers, almost every letter was
intercepted.
For political purposes, there were many who wished to destroy the
influence which Josephine had acquired over the mind of her illustrious
husband. In the accomplishment of this plan, they endeavored, in every
way in their power, to excite the jealousy of Napoleon. The very efforts
which Josephine was making to attract the most influential men in Paris
to her saloon were represented to him as indications of levity of
character, and of a spirit of unpardonable coquetry. The enemies of
Josephine had their influential agents in the camp of Napoleon, and with
malice, never weary, they whispered these suspicions into his ear.
The jealousy of his impassioned nature was strongly aroused. In his
indignation, he wrote to Josephine in terms of great severity, accusing
her of "playing the coquette with all the world." She was very deeply
wounded by these unjust suspicions, and wrote to him a letter in reply,
which, for tenderness and delicacy of sentiment, and the expression of
conscious innocence, is hardly surpassed by any thing which has ever
been written. Her letter was intercepted, and Napoleon never saw it. For
many months nearly all communication with the army of Egypt was cut off
by the vigilance of the English. There were flying reports ever reaching
the ear of Josephine of disaster to the army, and even of the death of
Napoleon. Josephine was at times in great distress. She knew not the
fate of her husband or her son. She knew that, by the grossest
deception, her husband's confidence in her had been greatly impaired,
and she feared that, should he return, she might never be able to regain
his affections. Still, she devoted herself with unwearied diligence in
watching over all his interests, and though her heart was often
oppressed with anguish, she did every thing in her power to retain the
aspect of cheerfulness and of sanguine hope. One of her favorite
amusements--the favorite amusement of almost every refined mind--was
found in the cultivation of flowers. She passed a portion of every
pleasant day with Hortense among the flower-beds, with the hoe, and the
watering-pot, and the pruning-knife. Hortense, though she loved the
society of her mother, was not fond of these employments, and in
subsequent life she never turned to them for a solace. With Josephine,
however, this taste remained unchanged through life. She was also very
fond of leaving the aristocratic walks of Malmaison, and sauntering
through the lanes and the rural roads, where she could enter the
cottages of the peasants, and listen to their simple tales of joy and
grief. To many of these dwellings her visit was as the mission of an
angel. Her purse was never closed against the wants of penury. But that
which rendered her still more a ministering spirit to the poor was that
her heart was ever open, with its full flood of sympathy, to share the
grief of their bereavements, and to rejoice in their joy. When she sat
upon the throne of France, and even long after she sank into the repose
of the grave, the region around Malmaison was full of recitals of her
benevolence. Aristocratic pride at times affected to look down with
contempt upon the elevated enjoyments of a noble heart.
Thus occupied in pleading with those in power for those of illustrious
birth who had, by emigration, forfeited both property and life; in
visiting the sick and the sorrowing in the humble cottages around her;
in presiding with queenly dignity over the brilliant soirees in her own
saloons, where talent and rank were ever assembled, and in diffusing the
sunlight of her own cheerful heart throughout the whole household at
Malmaison, Josephine, through weary months, awaited tidings from her
absent husband.