JOSEPHINE AN EMPRESS.
A.D. 1805
Coronation fetes.--Ascent of a balloon.--The Italians petition Napoleon
to be their king.--Crossing the Alps.--Happiness of Josephine.--Views
from the Alps.--Splendid fete on the field of Marengo.--A sublime
spectacle.--Triumphal entry into Milan.--The coronation.--Napoleon again
crowns himself and Josephine.--Entertainments at Milan.--Anecdote.--
Reception at Genoa.--A floating garden.--A gorgeous spectacle.--
Josephine's obedience to Napoleon.--Difficult road through the forest
of Ardennes.--Josephine receives a lecture.--Her mind well stored.--Her
kindness to her attendants.--Visits the baths at Aix.--Josephine and
her ladies proceed on foot to visit the model of Paris.--Enthusiasm
of the people.--The party return on foot.--Josephine's candor.--Fond
of breakfasting in the open air.--The presentation.--Josephine's
maternal sensitiveness.--An expensive compliment.--A delightful
excursion.--Personal habits of Napoleon.--He sleeps on the field
of battle.--Napoleon's wonderful mental activity.--Retirement at
Malmaison.--Anecdote.--Instructions to a lady respecting etiquette.
--The court at Cologne.--_En pirouette._--An amusing misunderstanding.
--Josephine accused of extravagance.--Josephine is charged by Napoleon
with indiscretion.--The explanation.--Marriage of Eugene.--Happiness of
Josephine.--Josephine universally beloved.--Her habit of journalizing.
--Beautiful extract from one of her journals.--Ferdinand of Spain.--A
picturesque scene.--Routine of life.--Account thereof by a valet de
chambre.--Morning occupations.--Literary enjoyments.--Confidential
interviews.--The drive.--Dressing for dinner.--Recreations of
Napoleon.--The dinner hour.--Dining in state.--Evening parties.--
Josephine's love of solitude.--Hunting parties.--The protected stag.--
Letter from Josephine to Caroline.--Josephine's desire to accompany
Napoleon.--Anecdote.--Visit to Spain.--Napoleon's star.--Energy of
Napoleon.--The Spanish campaign.--Josephine left at St. Cloud.--
Enthusiastic greeting of Napoleon.--Wonderful success of Napoleon.--
Alliance against him.--His indignation roused.--Austria violates the
treaty.--Promptness of Josephine.--Kindness of Napoleon.--Their route.
--Effects of the conscription.--Napoleon encourages marriages.--The
battle at Ulm.--Napoleon's advice to the Emperor of Austria.--His
march down the Danube.--Anxiety of Josephine.--Arrival of a courier.
--His utter exhaustion.--Battle of Austerlitz.--Moustache the Mameluke.
--Sensitiveness of Napoleon.--His unreasonable anger.--Arrival of
Josephine.--Napoleon's confession.--The reconciliation.--Napoleon's
taste for dress.--The young sailor.--His fearlessness.--Napoleon's
magnanimity.
During the whole month succeeding the coronation, Paris was surrendered
to fetes, illuminations, and all manner of public rejoicing. One morning
the empress found in her apartment, as a present from the municipality
of the capital, a toilet service, with table, ewer, and basin of massive
gold, wrought with most exquisite workmanship. An enormous balloon, in
the form of the imperial crown, brilliantly illuminated, was launched,
the evening of the coronation, from Paris. The vast structure, weighing
five hundred pounds, floated most majestically over the city, for a time
the object of the gaze of a million of eyes, till, borne away by the
wind toward the south, it disappeared. The next evening it fell near the
city of Rome, nine hundred miles from Paris. "Sire," said a courtier,
announcing the fact to Napoleon, "your imperial crown has appeared in
the two great capitals of the world within the space of twenty-four
hours."
As soon as Napoleon was crowned Emperor of France, the senators of the
Italian Republic, over which he had been elected president, sent an
earnest petition that he would be crowned their king at Milan. Napoleon
had rescued them from the hated dominion of the Austrians, and they
regarded him as their greatest benefactor. The emperor was in the habit
of setting out on his various tours without any warning. One evening,
when the festivities of the baptism of the second son of Hortense had
been kept up until midnight, Napoleon said quietly, upon retiring,
"Horses at six for Italy." Josephine accompanied her husband upon this
tour. The road bridging the Alps, which Napoleon subsequently
constructed, was then but contemplated. It was only by a rugged and
dangerous foot-path that the ascent of these awful barriers of nature
could be surmounted. Two beautiful sedans had been constructed in Turin
for the emperor and empress. The one for Napoleon was lined with crimson
silk, richly ornamented with gold. Josephine's was trimmed with blue
satin, similarly ornamented with silver. The sedans were, however, but
little used, except in places where walking was dangerous, as the
empress very much preferred leaning upon the arm of her husband, and,
in conversation with him, gazing upon the wild sublimities with which
they were surrounded. This must have been to Josephine, independently of
those inward anxieties which weighed so heavily upon her heart, as
delightful a journey as a mortal can enjoy. All Europe was bowing in
homage before her illustrious husband. He was in the possession of power
such as the proudest of the Caesars might have envied. Illuminations, and
triumphal arches, and enthusiastic acclamations met them every step of
their way. Josephine was in the possession of every possible acquisition
earth could give to make her happy, save only one--her husband was not a
father. But Josephine forgot her solicitudes in the exultant hours when
her husband, from the pinnacles of the Alps, pointed out to her the
glories of sunny Italy--the scenes of past perils, and conflict, and
renown--the fields in which he had led the armies of France to the most
brilliant victories. Napoleon was in fine spirits, and in these gilded
hours he looked lovingly upon her, and they both were truly happy. It is
difficult for the imagination to conceive any thing more attractive for
a warm-hearted and an enthusiastic woman than to pass over these most
sublime of the barriers of nature, with Napoleon for a guide and a
confiding friend. Pope Pius VII., who had formed a very strong
friendship for Josephine, accompanied them as far as Turin. When
parting, the empress made him a present of a beautiful vase of Sevres
china, embellished with exquisite paintings of the coronation.
From Turin Napoleon took Josephine to the field of Marengo. He had
assembled upon that great battle plain, which his victory has
immortalized, thirty thousand troops, that Josephine might behold, in
the mimicry of war, the dreadful scenes which had deluged those fields
in blood. It was the fifth of May, and a bright Italian sun shone down
upon the magnificent pageant. A vast elevation was constructed in the
middle of the plain, from which, seated upon a lofty throne, the emperor
and empress overlooked the whole field. Napoleon decorated himself upon
the occasion with the same war-worn garments--the battered hat, the
tempest-torn cloak, the coat of faded blue, and the long cavalry saber
which he had worn amid the carnage and the terror of that awful day.
Many of the veterans who had been engaged in the action were present.
Napoleon and Josephine came upon the ground in a magnificent chariot,
drawn by eight horses. The moment he appeared upon the plain, one
general shout of acclamation from thirty thousand adoring voices rent
the sky. After the mimic battle was ended, the soldiers defiled before
the emperor and empress, while he conferred, upon those who had
signalized themselves in the day of Marengo, the decorations of the
Legion of Honor. The gorgeous uniform of the men, the rich caparisons
and proud bearing of the horses, the clangor of innumerable trumpets and
martial bands, the glitter of gold and steel, the deafening thunders of
artillery and musketry, filling the air with one incessant and terrific
war; the dense volumes of sulphurous smoke rolling heavily over the
plain, shutting out the rays of an unclouded sun, all combined to
produce an effect upon the spectators never to be effaced.
On the eighth of May, 1805, they made their triumphal entry into the
city of Milan. While the whole city was absorbed in those fetes and
rejoicings which preceded the coronation, the inexhaustible mind of
Napoleon was occupied in planning those splendid public buildings and
those magnificent improvements which still commemorate the almost
superhuman energy of his reign. The iron crown of Charlemagne, which
for a thousand years had pressed no brow, was brought forth from
its mausoleum to add the attraction of deep poetic sentiment to the
coronation. The ceremony took place on the twenty-sixth of May, in the
Cathedral of Milan. The coronation was conducted with magnificence not
even surpassed by the ceremony in Notre Dame. The empress first made her
appearance, most gorgeously dressed, and glittering with diamonds. She
was personally loved by the Milanese, and was greeted with the most
enthusiastic acclamations. A moment after, the emperor himself entered,
by another door. He was arrayed in imperial robes of velvet, purple, and
gold, with the diadem upon his brow, and the iron crown and scepter of
Charlemagne in his hands. Napoleon, as in the coronation at Paris,
refused to receive the crown from the hands of another, but placed it
himself upon his head, repeating aloud the historical words, "God has
given it to me; woe to him who touches it." Josephine then knelt upon an
altar at his feet, and was again crowned by her husband.
Josephine remained with the emperor in Milan for nearly a month. He was
busy night and day in commencing improvements of the most majestic
character. The Italians still look back to the reign of Napoleon as the
brightest period in their history. The gay Milanese surrendered
themselves, during his stay, to one continued scene of festivity. One
day Josephine and Napoleon had broken away from courtiers and palaces,
and all the pageantry of state, and had retreated for a few hours to the
retirement and solitude of a beautiful little island in one of the lakes
in that vicinity. They entered the cabin of a poor woman. She had no
idea of the illustrious character of her guests, and, in answer to their
kind inquiries, opened to them the story of her penury, her toils, and
her anxiety to bring up her three children, as the father often could
obtain no work. "Now how much money, my good woman," inquired Napoleon,
"would you like to have to make you perfectly happy?" "Ah! sir," she
replied, "a great deal of money I should want." "But how much should you
desire if you could have your wish." "Oh, sir, I should want as much as
twenty louis (about eighty dollars); but what prospect is there of our
ever having twenty louis?" The emperor poured into her lap three
thousand francs (about six hundred dollars) in glittering gold. For a
few moments she was speechless in bewilderment; at length, trembling
with emotion, she said, "Ah! sir--ah! madam, this is a great deal too
much. And yet you do not look as if you could sport with the feelings of
a poor woman." "No!" Josephine replied, in the most gentle accents. "The
money is all yours. With it you can now rent a piece of ground, purchase
a flock of goats, and I hope you will be able to bring up your children
comfortably."
From Milan the emperor and empress continued their tour to Genoa. The
restless mind of Napoleon was weary even of the swiftest speed of the
horses, and though they drove from post to post with the utmost possible
rapidity, so that it was necessary continually to throw water upon the
glowing axle, he kept calling from his carriage, "On! on! we do not go
fast enough." Their reception at Genoa was unequaled by any thing they
had before witnessed. In the beautiful bay a floating garden of
orange-trees and rare plants and shrubbery was constructed in honor of
Josephine. In the principal church of "Genoa the Superb," the emperor
and empress received the allegiance of the most prominent inhabitants.
The fetes on this occasion almost surpassed the creations of fancy. The
senses were bewildered by the fairy illusions thrown around the gorgeous
spectacle. The city, with all its picturesque beauty of embattled forts
and craggy shores--the serenity and brilliance of Italian skies in
May--the blue expanse of the Mediterranean--the marble palaces and
glittering domes which embellished the streets--the lovely bay whitened
with sails--all combined to invest the gorgeous spectacle with
attractions such as are rarely witnessed. From Genoa they proceeded to
Paris, every where accompanied by the thunders of artillery and the
blaze of illuminations.
Josephine was not unfrequently under the necessity of taking journeys
unaccompanied by the emperor. On such occasions the tireless mind of
Napoleon arranged every particular with the utmost precision. A
manuscript was placed in her hand, describing the route she was to take,
the places at which she was to stop, the addresses or replies she was to
make to public functionaries, the expenses she was to incur, and even
the presents she was to make. On such excursions, Josephine every
morning most carefully studied her lesson for the day. She took great
pleasure in obeying his directions exactly, exposing herself to great
inconveniences rather than to allow herself to deviate in the slightest
particular from the written directions. She was ever unwilling to
listen to any suggestions for change. A very interesting illustration
of her scrupulous adherence to manuscript instructions occurred in her
journey to Liege.
Napoleon, in the directions given to Josephine, had marked out her route
by a road through the forest of Ardennes. Napoleon had ordered that road
to be constructed, and supposed that it was completed. It was, however,
only partially made, and it was considered quite unsafe to attempt to
pass over it with carriages. She inquired if it were possible to pass.
Being told that it was _possible_, perhaps, but that the attempt would
be attended with great difficulty and danger, she replied, "Very well,
then; we will at least try." Some of the ladies accompanying her
entreated her to take another route. "No," she replied; "Napoleon has
requested me to take this road, and his wishes are my law." Josephine
persevered in the attempt, and accomplished the passage through, though
with very great difficulty. In many places the workmen on the road had
to support the carriages with ropes and poles to prevent an overturn. It
rained during much of the journey. Josephine and her ladies were often
compelled to alight, and to walk for some distance nearly ankle deep
in mud and water. Josephine endured all with the utmost good nature.
She was cheered by the assurance that she was following the wishes
of her husband. Many of her attendants, however, were excessively
annoyed by the hardships they encountered. The carriage of the
first femme-de-chambre was actually overturned, and the irritated
serving-woman could not restrain her expressions of impatience and
displeasure. At last one of the distinguished ladies of the court
took it upon herself to lecture the empress so roundly for her blind
subservience to the directions of Napoleon, that Josephine burst into
tears.
Josephine, by conversation, observation, and reading, was continually
storing her mind with valuable information. In the various journeys she
took, she was always accompanied by persons of intelligence, and who
were well acquainted with the country. While traveling, she directed her
conversation almost exclusively upon the scenes through which they were
passing. Every thing of interest was carefully treasured up in her
memory, and if she learned any incident connected with the past fortunes
of any of the families of the ladies who were with her, she never
failed to send a special messenger with the information, and to point
out the places where such incidents occurred. She seemed thus to be
continually studying for opportunities of manifesting kind and delicate
attentions to the ladies of her household. She thus secured a
universality and a fervor of affection such as has rarely been attained.
On these pleasure excursions, the restraints of the court were laid
aside, and there were all the joyous commingling and affectionate
familiarity which prevail among intimate friends.
Napoleon, aware of the vast influence which the pomp of regal state
exerts upon the human mind, was very particular in his court in the
observance of all the etiquette of royalty. Josephine, however, was
always disposed to escape from the exactions of the code ceremonial
whenever she could do so with propriety. A curious instance of this
occurred at Aix la Chapelle, where the empress was passing a few days
for the benefit of the baths. One evening she was sitting, with
her ladies around her, weary of the lassitude of a fashionable
watering-place, when some one suggested that, to while away an hour,
they should visit a celebrated model of Paris, which was then on
exhibition. The chevalier of honor was about to order the imperial
carriages and the cortege, when Josephine, to his utter consternation,
proposed that they should go on foot. She was sure, she said, that the
citizens of Aix la Chapelle were so kindly disposed toward her, that
there could be no possible danger. The chevalier, as far as he dared to
do, urged his remonstrances against such a breach of imperial decorum;
but the ladies of the court were all delighted with the plan of
Josephine, and they set out on foot, a brilliant party of ladies and
gentlemen, to visit the exhibition. As the citizens, of course,
knew nothing about this unexpected movement, there was no crowd
in the streets to impede their way, and they proceeded without any
difficulty, and very pleasantly, to the place of their destination.
But the intelligence of the adventure of the court, so novel and so
unprecedented, was immediately noised throughout the town. From every
section of the city, throngs, allured by curiosity and love for
Josephine, began to pour into the streets through which they were to
pass to see them return. The citizens occupying the dwellings and
the shops which lined the streets, instantly, and as if by magic,
illuminated their windows. A thousand hands were busy in the eager and
love-incited toil. The party spent an hour examining the beautiful model
of the metropolis, and then emerged again into the street. To their
surprise, and not a little to their consternation, they found their path
blazing with illuminations. Their whole route was filled with a dense
throng of men, women, and children, all eager to catch a glimpse of
their beloved empress, and of the brilliant suite which accompanied her.
The ladies recoiled from attempting the passage on foot through such a
crowd, and proposed sending for the carriages and escort. Josephine,
apprehensive that some accident might occur in attempting to drive the
horses through such a dense mass of people, would not listen to the
suggestion. "Were any one to be injured," she said, "of these friends
whom our imprudence has assembled, I never could forgive myself." Taking
the arm of the chevalier, she led the way through the crowd. The ladies
all followed, each supported by the arm of some nobleman of the court.
The populace respectfully opened before them, and closed up behind. The
plumes, and diamonds, and gay attire of the court shone brilliantly
in the blaze of light which was shed upon them from the illuminated
windows. The enthusiastic acclamations of the populace greeted the
empress until she arrived, in perfect safety, at her residence. As soon
as she entered her saloon, with her accustomed frankness she thanked the
chevalier for the advice which he had given, and confessed that, in not
following it, she had been guilty of imprudence, which might have been
attended by very serious consequences.
When traveling unaccompanied by the emperor, she was fond of
breakfasting in the open air, upon some green lawn, beneath the shade of
venerable trees, or upon some eminence, where her eye could feast upon
the sublimities of Nature, which are so attractive to every ennobled
mind. The peasantry, from a respectful distance, would look upon the
dazzling spectacle perfectly bewildered and awe-stricken. The service
of silver and of gold, the luxurious viands, the gorgeous display of
graceful female attire, and uniforms and liveries, all combined to
invest the scene, in their eyes, with a splendor almost more than
earthly.
On one occasion, a mother's love and pride triumphed over even her
scrupulous obedience to the wishes of Napoleon. Napoleon and Josephine,
accompanied by Eugene and a very magnificent retinue, were at Mayence.
There was to be a grand presentation of the German princes to the
emperor and empress. Eugene, the son of the empress, according to the
laws of court etiquette, should have been included with Napoleon and
Josephine in the presentation. By some oversight, his name was omitted.
As Josephine glanced her eye over the programme, she noticed the
omission, and pointed it out to Napoleon. As the arrangements had all
been made by him, he was not a little piqued in finding himself at fault
as to a point of etiquette, and insisted upon following the programme.
Josephine, ever ready to make any personal sacrifice to meet the wishes
of Napoleon, could not be induced to sacrifice the sensitive feelings of
her son. "I had no desire," she said, "for the honors of coronation;
but, since I have been crowned, my son must be treated as the son of an
empress." Napoleon yielded, not, however, with very good grace.
Two of the princesses of Baden, on this occasion, accompanied Josephine
to the opera. The evening air was chilly, and the empress, observing
that they were very thinly clad, spread over the shoulders of each of
them one of her rich white Cashmere shawls. These shawls were of the
most costly texture, and had been purchased at an expense of several
thousand dollars. The next morning the elder of the princesses sent a
note, full of complimentary terms, to Josephine, expressing their
infinite obligation for her kindness, and stating that they would keep
the shawls in remembrance of one they so greatly admired.
On these journeys Napoleon was full of pleasantry, and very agreeable.
Josephine often spoke of this excursion to Mayence in particular as the
most delightful that she had ever made with the emperor. They were met
at every step on their route with the most enthusiastic testimonials of
a nation's love and gratitude. And Napoleon had at this time conferred
benefits upon France which richly entitled him to all this homage. In
subsequent years, when intoxicated by the almost boundless empire he had
obtained, and when, at a still later period, he was struggling, with the
energies of despair, against Europe, in arms to crush him, he resorted
to acts which very considerably impaired his good name. Josephine, in
her journal during this journey, speaks of the common, but erroneous
impression, that Napoleon could work constantly and habitually with
very few hours devoted to sleep. She says that this was an erroneous
impression. If the emperor rose at a very early hour in the morning, he
would frequently retire at nine o'clock in the evening. And when, on
extraordinary occasions, he passed many nights together in almost
sleepless activity, he had the faculty of catching short naps at
intervals in his carriage, and even on horseback. After many days and
nights of preparation for some great conflict, he has been known even to
fall asleep upon the field of battle, in the midst of all the horrors of
the sanguinary scene. At the battle of Bautzen, for instance, Napoleon
was extremely fatigued by the exertions and sleeplessness of the two
preceding days and nights. He fell asleep several times when seated on
an eminence, overlooking the field of battle, and which was frequently
reached by the cannon balls of the enemy. Napoleon, at St. Helena, when
alluding to this fact, said that Nature had her rights, which could not
be violated with impunity; and that he felt better prepared to issue
fresh orders, or to consider the reports which were brought, when
awaking from these momentary slumbers. Though Napoleon could not set at
defiance the established workings of our mental and physical nature,
words can hardly convey an adequate idea of the indefatigable activity
of his mind, or of his extraordinary powers of enduring mental and
bodily fatigue. Few have ever understood better the art of concentrating
the attention upon one thing at a time. Often, on his campaigns, after
reading the dispatches, and dictating orders to one set of secretaries
during the whole day, he would throw himself, for an hour, upon his
sofa, instantly fall into the soundest sleep, and then, summoning to his
presence a new relay of secretaries, would keep them incessantly
occupied till morning. To keep himself awake on such occasions, he
resorted to strong coffee. It was only under the pressure of great
necessity that he thus overtasked his Herculean powers.
Occasionally, when Napoleon was absent on his campaigns, Josephine would
retire to Malmaison, and become deeply interested in rural occupations.
She had a large and very fine flock of merino sheep, and she took great
pleasure in superintending their culture. A detachment of the imperial
guard was, on such occasions, appointed to do duty at Malmaison. One
evening the empress, sitting up till a later hour than usual, heard the
sound of footsteps passing to and fro beneath her window. She sent for
the officer of the guard, and inquired what it meant. He informed her
that it was the sentry, who was appointed to keep watch beneath her
window all night. "Sir," she replied, "I have no need of a night-guard.
These brave soldiers have enough to suffer from the hardships of war
when they are under the necessity of going to the field of battle. In my
service they must have repose. I wish them here to have no sleepless
nights."
It is said that rather a ludicrous occurrence took place in one of the
cities of the Rhine, in reference to a visit which the emperor and
empress were about to make to that place. One of the distinguished
ladies of the city, who was anticipating the honor of a presentation,
wrote to obtain from the master of the ceremonies instructions
respecting the etiquette to be observed. The answer contained very
minute directions, and was couched in terms which conveyed a deep
impression of their importance. Among other things, it was stated that
three courtesies were to be made; one immediately upon entering the
saloon, one in the middle of the room, and a third, _en pirouette_, when
having arrived within a few paces of the emperor and empress. The
familiar signification of _en pirouette_ is whirling the body around
rapidly upon the toes of one foot, the other foot being rather
indecorously raised. The ladies assembled to study these instructions;
and though some of the young, the beautiful, and the graceful were not
unwilling thus to display their lightness of limb, there were others
who read _en pirouette_ with consternation. The vast importance which
Napoleon attached to every form of etiquette was well known. There was
no alternative; the fat and the lean, the tall and the short, the
graceful and the awkward, all were to approach their majesties _en
pirouette_, or to lose the honor of a presentation. "We have a fortnight
for practice," said one of the ladies; "let us prepare ourselves." For
fifteen days all the drawing-rooms of Cologne seemed to be filled with
dancing dervishes. Venerable dowagers were twirling like opera girls,
and not unfrequently measuring their portly length upon the carpet. _En
pirouette_ was the theme of every tongue, and the scene, morning, noon,
and evening, in every ambitious saloon.
On the evening of the arrival of the emperor and empress, the same lady
who had written the letter for instructions called upon one of the
ladies of the court for still more precise directions. She then learned
that, in court phrase, _en pirouette_ simply indicated a slight
inclination of the body toward their majesties, accompanying the
courtesy. The intelligence was immediately disseminated through Cologne,
to the great relief of some, and, probably, not a little to the
disappointment of others. Josephine was exceedingly amused at the
recital of this misunderstanding.
Josephine was often accused of extravagance. Her expenditures were
undoubtedly very great. She attached no value to money but as a means of
promoting happiness. She was, perhaps, too easily persuaded to purchase
of those who were ever urging upon her the most costly articles, and
appealing powerfully to her sympathies to induce her to buy. It was
difficult for Josephine to turn a deaf ear to a tale of distress.
Napoleon was ever ready to spend millions upon millions in great public
improvements, but he was not willing to have any money wasted. Josephine
gave away most liberally in charity, and the emperor, at times,
complained a little of the large sums which escaped through her hands.
In replying once to a friend, who told her that she was deemed
extravagant, she said, "When I have money, you know how I employ it. I
give it principally to the unfortunate, who solicit my assistance, and
to the poor emigrants. But I will try to be more economical in future.
Tell the emperor so if you see him again. But is it not my duty to
bestow as much charity as I can?"
On one occasion Napoleon was much displeased by hearing that Josephine
had suffered General Lorges, the commandant at Aix la Chapelle, a young
and handsome man, to be guilty of the indiscretion of sitting upon the
same sofa with the empress. He reproached her with much severity for
permitting such indecorum. Josephine explained the circumstances.
Instead of its being General Lorges who had thus violated the rules of
courtly propriety, it was one of the aged and veteran generals of
Napoleon's army, who, inured to the hardships of the camp, was entirely
unacquainted with the politeness of courts. He had been presented to
Josephine, and, without any consciousness of the impropriety of which
he was guilty, immediately seated himself upon the same sofa with
the empress. Josephine was unwilling to wound the feelings of the
honest-hearted old soldier, and permitted him to retain his seat until
he withdrew. Napoleon was perfectly satisfied with the explanation, and,
upon receiving it, manifested renewed indications of the affection and
esteem with which he regarded the empress.
About this time Josephine was informed of the contemplated alliance
between Eugene and the Princess-royal of Bavaria. She was soon summoned
to Munich to attend their nuptials, and there again was united to those
she so dearly loved. The bride of Eugene was in every respect worthy
of him, and Josephine rejoiced over the happiness of her son. The
victorious emperor and empress then returned to Paris, accompanied by a
crowd of princes from the various courts of Germany. Josephine was now
upon the very summit of earthly grandeur. Europe lay prostrate at the
feet of her husband. Hortense was Queen of Holland. Eugene was Viceroy
of Italy, and son-in-law to the King of Bavaria. Napoleon, fixing his
affections upon the eldest child of Hortense, appeared to have
relinquished the plan of the divorce, and to have contemplated the
recognition of this child--the brother of Louis Napoleon, now President
of the French Republic--as the heir of his crown. The embarrassment
which had at times accompanied their interviews had consequently passed
away. Napoleon was proud of Josephine, and often said that there was no
woman in the world to be compared with her. The empress was happy. All
France was filled with stories of her active benevolence and her
sympathy with the sorrowful. Wherever she made her appearance, she was
greeted with the acclamations of the most enthusiastic attachment.
Of the many tours which Josephine took with Napoleon, she frequently
kept a journal, noting down the events of interest which occurred. The
fragments of these journals, which have appeared before the public,
beautifully exhibit the literary taste and the benevolence of heart of
the empress. The following is an extract:
"About two leagues from Bayonne the emperor was presented
with a spectacle worthy of him. On the declivity of a
mountain, gently scooped out in different parts of its
descent, is pitched one of those camps which the foresight
of the country has provided for its defenders. It is
composed of seven handsome barracks, different in form and
aspect, each isolated, surrounded with an orchard in full
bearing, a well-stocked poultry-yard, and, at different
distances, a greater or less quantity of arable land, where
a diversity of soil yields a variety of produce. One side of
the mountain is wild, but picturesque, with rocks and
plants. The other seems covered with rich tapestry, so
varied and numerous are the plots of highly-cultivated
ground. The summit is clothed with an ever-verdant forest.
Down the center, in a deep channel, flows a limpid stream,
refreshing and fertilizing the whole scene. On this spot,
the veterans who occupy it gave a fete to the emperor which
was at once military and rural. The wives, daughters, and
little children of these brave men formed the most pleasing,
as they were themselves the noblest ornament of the
festival. Amid piles of arms were seen beautiful shrubs
covered with flowers, while the echoes of the mountain
resounded to the bleating of flocks and the warlike strains
of a soldiery intoxicated on thus receiving their chief. The
emperor raised this enthusiasm to the highest pitch by
sitting down at a table at once quite military and perfectly
pastoral. I dare not mention the attentions of which I was
the object. They affected me deeply. I regarded them as
proofs of that veneration which France has vowed to the
emperor."
The infamous Ferdinand of Spain, who was then claiming the throne, in a
disgraceful quarrel with his equally infamous father, sent an embassador
to Bayonne to meet the emperor. Ferdinand, with the utmost servility,
was courting the support of Napoleon. The embassador possessed, some
leagues from Bayonne, an extensive farm, on which were bred numerous
flocks of merinoes. "Thither," writes Josephine, "under a plausible
pretext, we were conducted to-day. After a feast of really rustic
magnificence, we made the tour of the possession on foot. At the bottom
of a verdant dell, surrounded on all sides by rocks, covered with moss
and flowers, all of a sudden a picturesque cot appeared, lightly
suspended on a projecting point of rock. Around it were feeding seven or
eight hundred sheep of the most beautiful breed. We could not restrain a
cry of admiration. Upon the emperor addressing some compliments to the
embassador, he declared that these flocks belonged to me. 'The king, my
master,' he added, 'knows the empress's taste for rural occupations, and
as this species of sheep is little known in France, and will constitute
the principal ornament, and, consequently, wealth of a farm, he entreats
her not to deprive herself of an offering at once so useful and so
agreeable.' 'Don Pedro,' replied the emperor, with a tone of severity,
'the empress can not accept a present save from the hand of a king, and
your master is not yet one. Wait, before making your offering, till your
own nation and I have decided.'"
The ordinary routine of life with her, as empress, was as follows.
Constant, the valet de chambre of Napoleon, gives the following account
of the commencement of the day. "I had a regular order to enter the
emperor's apartment at seven o'clock. When the empress passed the
night there, it was a very unusual occurrence not to find the august
spouses awake. The emperor commonly asked for tea or an infusion of
orange-flowers, and rose immediately after. In the course of a few
minutes the empress rose also, and, putting on a loose morning-gown,
either read the journals while the emperor dressed, or retired by a
private access to her own apartments, but never without addressing some
kind and condescending words to myself."
Josephine invariably commenced her morning toilet at nine o'clock. This
occupied an hour, and then she passed into a saloon where she received
those who had obtained the favor of a morning presentation. A great many
petitions were presented her on such occasions, and, with unvarying
kindness, she manifested great firmness in rejecting those which
appeared unworthy of her support. These audiences occupied an hour, and
then she met, at eleven o'clock, the most distinguished ladies of the
court at the breakfast-table. Napoleon, entirely engrossed by those
majestic plans he was ever conceiving and executing, usually breakfasted
alone in his cabinet, very hastily, not allowing more than seven or
eight minutes to be occupied by the meal. After breakfast, Josephine,
with her ladies, took a short walk, if the weather was fair, or for half
an hour played a game of billiards. The remainder of the morning, until
three o'clock, she passed in her apartment, with her chosen female
friends, reading, conversing, and embroidering. Josephine herself was an
admirable reader, and the book they were perusing was passed alternately
from hand to hand. No works were read but those of real value. By common
consent, all novels were banished from the circle, as Napoleon
inveterately abominated every work of that kind. If he happened to
find a novel in the hands of any of the attendants of the palace, he
unhesitatingly tossed it into the fire, and roundly lectured the reader
upon her waste of time. If Josephine had been a novel reader, she never
could have acquired that mental energy which enabled her to fill with
dignity and with honor every position she was called to occupy.
Occasionally Napoleon would leave his cabinet and enter the apartment
of the empress where the ladies were reading. His presence was ever
cordially greeted, and, with great sociability, he would for a few
moments converse with his friends, and then return to his work. Not
unfrequently the emperor wished to confer with Josephine upon some
subject of moment. A gentle tap from his hand at the door of private
communication announced to the empress the summons, which she ever most
joyfully obeyed. Occasionally these interviews were protracted for
several hours, for the emperor had learned to repose great confidence
in many matters upon the sound judgment of Josephine.
At three o'clock the carriages were at the door, and Josephine, with her
ladies, rode out. It was very seldom that Napoleon could find time to
accompany them. On returning from the drive, she dressed for dinner.
Napoleon attached much importance to this grand toilet, for he was fully
aware of the influence of costume upon the public mind, and was very
fond of seeing Josephine dressed with elegance and taste. It is
reported that he not unfrequently recreated himself by entering her
boudoir on such occasions, and suggesting the robe or the jewelry he
would like to have her wear. Her waiting-women were not a little
embarrassed by the manner in which his unskillful hands would throw
about the precious contents of the caskets, and the confusion into which
he would toss all the nameless articles of a lady's wardrobe.
Dinner was appointed at six o'clock. It was, however, served when
Napoleon was ready to receive it. Not unfrequently, when much engrossed
with business, he would postpone the hour until nine, and even ten
o'clock. The cook, during all this time, would be preparing fresh
viands, that a hot dinner might be ready at a moment's warning. A
chicken, for instance, was put upon the spit every fifteen minutes.
Napoleon and Josephine always dined together, sometimes alone, more
frequently with a few invited guests. There was a grand master of
ceremonies, who, on all such occasions, informed the grand marshal of
the necessary arrangements, and of the seat each guest was to occupy.
Occasionally the emperor and empress dined in state. Rich drapery
canopied the table, which was placed upon a platform, slightly elevated,
with two arm-chairs of gorgeous workmanship, one for Napoleon, and the
other, upon his left, for Josephine. Other tables were placed upon the
floor of the same room for illustrious guests. The grand marshal
announced to the emperor when the preparations for them to enter the
room was completed. A gorgeous procession of pages, marshals, equeries,
and chamberlains accompanied the emperor and empress into the hall.
Pages and stewards performed the subordinate parts of the service at the
table, in bringing and removing dishes, while noblemen of the highest
rank felt honored in ministering to the immediate wants of their
majesties. Those who sat at the surrounding tables were served by
servants in livery.
Josephine passed the evening in her apartment almost invariably with a
party either of invited guests, or of distinguished ministers and
officers of the empire, who, having called on business, were awaiting
the pleasure of Napoleon. There were frequent receptions and levees,
which filled the saloons of the palace with a brilliant throng. At
midnight all company retired, and the palace was still. Josephine loved
the silence of these midnight hours, when the turmoil of the day had
passed, and no sounds fell upon her ear but the footfalls of the
sentinel in the court-yard below. She often sat for an hour alone,
surrendering herself to the luxury of solitude and of undisturbed
thought.
Such was the general routine of the life of Josephine while empress. She
passed from one to another of the various royal residences, equally at
home in all. At the Tuilleries, St. Cloud, Versailles, Rambouillet, and
Fontainebleau, life was essentially the same. Occasionally, at the
rural palaces, hunting parties were formed for the entertainment of
distinguished guests from abroad. Napoleon himself took but little
personal interest in sports of this kind. On such occasions, the
empress, with her ladies, usually rode in an open caleche, and a pic-nic
was provided, to be spread on the green turf, beneath the boughs of the
forest. Once a terrified, panting stag, exhausted with the long chase,
when the hounds in full bay were just ready to spring upon him, by a
strange instinct sought a retreat beneath the carriage in which the
gentle heart of Josephine was throbbing. The appeal was not in vain.
Josephine plead for the life of the meek-eyed, trembling suppliant.
To mark it as her favorite, and as living under the shield of her
protection, she had a silver collar put around its neck. The stag now
roamed its native glades unharmed. No dog was permitted to molest it,
and no sportsman would injure a protege of Josephine. Her love was its
talisman.
The following letter, which at this time she wrote to Caroline, the
sister of Napoleon, who had married Murat, will show the principles, in
the exercise of which Josephine won to herself the love of all hearts.
"Our glory, the glory of woman, lies in submission; and if
it be permitted us to reign, our empire rests on gentleness
and goodness. Your husband, already so great in the opinion
of the world through his valor and exploits, feels as if he
beheld all his laurels brought to the dust on appearing in
your presence. You take a pride in humbling him before your
pretensions; and the title of being the sister of a hero is,
with you, reason for believing yourself a heroine. Believe
me, my sister, _that_ character, with the qualities which it
supposes, becomes us not. Let us rejoice moderately in the
glory of our husbands, and find our glory in softening their
manners, and leading the world to pardon their deeds. Let
us merit this praise, that the nation, while it applauds the
bravery of our husbands, may also commend the gentleness
bestowed by Providence on their wives to temper their
bravery."
The palace ever seemed desolate when Napoleon was absent, and Josephine
was always solicitous to accompany him upon his tours. Napoleon loved to
gratify this wish, for he prized most highly the companionship of his
only confidential friend. Upon one occasion, when he had promised to
take the empress with him, circumstances arose demanding special speed,
and he resolved to set out secretly without her. He ordered his carriage
at one o'clock in the morning--an hour in which he supposed she would be
most soundly asleep. To his amazement, just as he had stepped into his
carriage, Josephine, in all the dishabille of her night-dress, with some
slight drapery thrown over her person, and without even stockings upon
her feet, threw herself into his arms. Some noise had at the moment
awoke her, she caught an intimation of what was going on, and, without a
moment's thought, sprang from her bed, threw over her a cloak, rushed
down stairs, and burst into the carriage. Napoleon fondly embraced her,
rolled her up warmly in his own capacious traveling pelisse, gave orders
for suitable attendants to follow with the wardrobe of the empress, and
the horses, with lightning speed, darted from the court-yard. "I could
sooner," Napoleon would jocosely say, "transport the whole artillery of
a division of my grand army, than the bandboxes of Josephine's
waiting-women."
The visit which Josephine made with Napoleon to Spain gave her such an
insight into the Spanish character, that she looked with much alarm
upon his endeavor to place one of his brothers upon the Spanish throne.
"Napoleon," said she one day to her ladies, "is persuaded that he is to
subjugate all the nations of the earth. He cherishes such a confidence
in his _star_, that should he be abandoned to-morrow by family and
allies, a wanderer, and proscribed, he would support life, convinced
that he should triumph over all obstacles, and accomplish his destiny
by realizing his mighty designs. Happily, we shall never have an
opportunity of ascertaining whether I am right. But of this you may rest
assured, Napoleon is more courageous morally than physically. I know him
better than any one else does. He believes himself predestinated, and
would support reverses with as much calmness as he manifests when
confronting danger on the field of battle."
Little did Josephine imagine, when uttering these sentiments, that her
proud husband, before whose name the world seemed to tremble, was to die
in poverty and imprisonment on the most barren island of the ocean.
The astounding energy of Napoleon was conspicuously displayed about this
time in his Spanish campaign. He had placed Joseph upon the throne of
Spain, and had filled the Peninsula with his armies. The Spaniards had
every where risen against him, and, guided by English councils, and
inspirited by the tremendous energy of English arms, they had driven
Joseph from his capital, had massacred, by the rage of the mob,
thousands of French residents who were dwelling in the Spanish cities,
and were rapidly driving the French army over the Pyrenees. Napoleon had
but just returned from the treaty of Tilsit when he was informed of this
discouraging state of affairs.
He immediately, without a moment allowed for repose, set out for Spain.
Josephine earnestly entreated permission to accompany the emperor. She
assured him that she was fully aware of the difficulties, fatigue, and
peril she must encounter, but that most cheerfully could she bear them
all for the sake of being with him. She said that she should neither
feel hunger nor cold, nor the need of repose, if she could but be by the
side of her husband, and that all the privations of the camp would be
happiness when shared with one who was all the world to her. Napoleon
was deeply moved by this exhibition of her love, but, aware of the
incessant activity with which it would be necessary for him to drive by
night and by day, he firmly but kindly denied her request. Josephine
wept bitterly as they parted.
One morning, early in November, 1808, the glittering cavalcade of the
emperor, at the full gallop, drove into the encampment of the retreating
French at Vittoria. The arrival of an angel, commissioned from heaven to
their aid, could not have inspired the soldiers with more enthusiasm.
The heavens rang with the shouts of the mighty host, as they greeted
their monarch with cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" Not one moment was lost.
Napoleon placed himself at the head of his concentrated army, and
turning them, now inspirited with the utmost confidence, against the
foes before whom they had been retreating, with the resistlessness of
an avalanche overwhelmed the Spanish forces. Wherever he appeared,
resistance melted away before him. In the pride of achievements almost
miraculous, he marched into Madrid, and there, in the capital of Spain,
re-established his fallen throne. But he tarried not there an hour for
indulgence or repose. The solid columns of the English army, under Sir
John Moore, were still in Spain. Napoleon urged his collected forces,
with all the energy which hatred could inspire, upon his English foes,
and the Britons, mangled and bleeding, were driven into their ships. The
conqueror, feeling that he was indeed the man of destiny, looked for a
moment complacently upon Spain, again in subjection at his feet, and
then, with the speed of the whirlwind, returned to Josephine at St.
Cloud, having been absent but little more than two months.
In the mean time, while Napoleon was far away with his army, upon the
other side of the Pyrenees, Russia, Sweden, and Austria thought it a
favorable moment to attack him in his rear. They brought no accusations
against the emperor, they issued no proclamation of war, but secretly
and treacherously conspired to march, with all the strength of their
collected armies, upon the unsuspecting emperor. It was an alliance of
the kings of Europe against Napoleon, because he sat upon the throne,
not by hereditary descent, the only recognized divine right, but by the
popular vote. The indignation of the emperor, and of every patriotic
Frenchman, had been roused by the totally unjustifiable, but bold and
honest avowal of England, that peace could only be obtained by the
wresting of the crown from the brow of Napoleon, and replacing it upon
the head of the rejected Bourbon.
The emperor had been at St. Cloud but a short time, when, early one
spring morning, a courier came dashing into the court-yard of the palace
at his utmost speed, bringing the intelligence to Napoleon that Austria
had treacherously violated the treaty of peace, and, in alliance with
Russia, Sweden, and England, was marching her armies to invade the
territory of France. The emperor, his eye flashing with indignation,
hastily proceeded to the apartment of the empress with the papers
communicating the intelligence in his hand. Josephine was asleep, having
but just retired. He approached her bed, and, awaking her from sound
slumber, requested her to be ready in two hours to accompany him to
Germany. "You have played the part of an empress," said he, playfully,
"long enough. You must now become again the wife of a general. I leave
immediately. Will you accompany me to Strasburg?" This was short notice,
but, with the utmost alacrity, she obeyed the joyful summons.
She was so accustomed to the sudden movements of the emperor that
she was not often taken by surprise. Promptness was one of the most
conspicuous of her manifold virtues. "I have never," she has been heard
to say, "kept any one waiting for me half a minute, when to be punctual
depended upon myself. Punctuality is true politeness, especially in the
great."
The emperor was in glowing spirits. He had no doubt that he should be
entirely victorious, and Josephine was made truly happy by that suavity
and those kind attentions which he in this journey so signally
displayed. Their route conducted them through some of the most beautiful
and fertile valleys of France. Every where around them they saw the
indications of prosperity and happiness. Napoleon was in the height of
glory. The most enthusiastic acclamations of love and homage greeted the
emperor and empress wherever the panting steeds which drew them rested
for a moment. As they stopped for a new relay of horses in one of the
little villages of Lorraine, Josephine beheld a peasant woman kneeling
upon the steps of the village church, with her countenance bathed in
tears. The aspect of grief ever touched the kind heart of the empress.
She sent for the poor woman, and inquired into the cause of her grief.
"My poor grandson, Joseph," said she, "is included in the conscription,
and, notwithstanding all my prayers, he must become a soldier. And more
than this, his sister Julie was to have been married to Michael, a
neighbor's son, and now he refuses to marry her because Joseph is in the
conscription. And should my son purchase a substitute for poor Joseph,
it would take all his money, and he would have no dowry to give Julie.
And her dowry was to have been a hundred and twenty dollars."
"Take that," said the emperor, presenting the woman with a purse. "You
will find enough who will be ready to supply Joseph's place for that
amount. I want soldiers, and, for that purpose, must encourage
marriages." Josephine was so much interested in the adventure, that, as
soon as she arrived at Strasburg, she sent a valuable bridal present to
Julie. The good woman's prayers were answered. From Strasburg Josephine
returned to Paris, while Napoleon pressed on to encounter the combined
armies of Austria and Russia in the renowned campaign of Wagram.
It was in 1805, some years before the events we have just described,
that Napoleon, with his enthusiastic troops, embarked in the celebrated
campaign of Ulm and Austerlitz. At Ulm he surrounded thirty thousand of
his foes, and almost without a skirmish compelled them to lay down their
arms. "Your master," said he to the Austrian generals, as, almost dying
with mortification, they surrendered their swords, "your master wages
against me an unjust war. I say it candidly, I know not for what I am
fighting. I know not what he desires of me. He has wished to remind
me that I was once a soldier. I trust he will find that I have not
forgotten my original avocation. I will, however, give one piece of
advice to my brother, the Emperor of Austria. Let him hasten to make
peace. This is the moment to remember that there are limits to all
empires, however powerful. The idea that the house of Lorraine may come
to an end should inspire him with distrust of fortune. I want nothing
on the Continent. _I desire ships, colonies, and commerce._ Their
acquisition would be as advantageous to you as to me."
From Ulm, Napoleon, with two hundred thousand men, flushed with victory,
rushed like a tempest down the valley of the Danube, driving the
terrified Austrians before him like chaff swept by the whirlwind. Ten
thousand bomb-shells were rained down upon the roofs of Vienna, till the
dwellings and the streets were deluged with the blood of innocence, and
then the gates were thrown open for the entrance of the conqueror.
Alexander, the Emperor of all the Russias, was hastening down from the
North, with his barbarian hordes, to aid the beleaguered city. Napoleon
tarried not at Vienna. Fearlessly pushing on through the sleet and the
hail of a Northern winter, he disappeared in the distance from the eyes
of France. Austria, Sweden, Russia, were assembling their innumerable
legions to crush him. He was far from home, in a hostile country. Rumors
that his rashness had led to his ruin began to circulate throughout
Europe.
Josephine was almost distracted with anxiety respecting her husband. She
knew that a terrible battle was approaching, in which he was to
encounter fearful odds. The most gloomy forebodings pervaded Paris and
all France. Several days had passed, during which no intelligence
whatever had been received from the distant army. Ominous whispers of
defeat and ruin filled the air. The cold blasts of a December night were
whistling around the towers of St. Cloud, as Josephine and a few of her
friends were assembled in the saloon, anxiously awaiting tidings from
Napoleon. It was no time for hilarity, and no one attempted even to
promote festive enjoyment. The hour of nine o'clock had arrived, and
yet no courier appeared. All hopes of any tidings on that day were
relinquished. Suddenly the clatter of iron hoofs was heard as a single
horseman galloped into the court-yard. Josephine almost fainted with
emotion as she heard the feeble shout, "Victory--Austerlitz!" She rushed
to the window and threw it open. The horse of the courier had fallen
dead upon the pavement, and the exhausted rider, unable to stand,
was half reclining by his side. In the intensity of her impatience,
Josephine rushed down the stairs and into the court-yard, followed by
all her ladies. The faithful messenger was brought to her in the arms of
four men. He presented to the empress a blurred and blotted line, which
the emperor had written amid the thunder and the smoke, the uproar and
the carnage of the dreadful day of Austerlitz. As soon as Napoleon saw
the field covered with the slain, and the routed armies of his foes
flying in dismay before their triumphant pursuers, in the midst of all
the horrors of that most horrible scene, he turned the energies of his
impetuous mind from the hot pursuit to pen a line to his faithful
Josephine, announcing the victory. The empress, with tears almost
blinding her eyes, read the billet where she stood, by the light of a
torch which an attendant had brought her. She immediately drew from her
finger a valuable diamond ring, and presented it to the bearer of the
joyful message. The messenger was Moustache the Mameluke, who had
accompanied Napoleon from Egypt, and who was so celebrated for the
devotion of his attachment to the emperor. He had ridden on horseback
one hundred and fifty miles within twelve hours.
Napoleon was exceedingly sensitive to any apparent want of affection
or attention on the part of Josephine. A remarkable occurrence,
illustrative of this sensitiveness, took place on his return from his
last Austrian campaign. When he arrived at Munich, where he was delayed
for a short time, he dispatched a courier to Josephine, informing her
that he would be at Fontainebleau on the evening of the twenty-seventh,
and expressing a wish that the court should be assembled there to meet
him. He, however, in his eagerness, pressed on with such unanticipated
speed, that he arrived early in the morning of the twenty-sixth,
thirty-six hours earlier than the time he had appointed. He had actually
overtaken his courier, and entered with him the court-yard at
Fontainebleau. Very unreasonably annoyed at finding no one there to
receive him, he said to the exhausted courier, as he was dismounting
from his horse, "You can rest to-morrow; gallop to St. Cloud, and
announce my arrival to the empress." It was a distance of forty miles.
Napoleon was very impatient all the day, and, in the evening, hearing a
carriage enter the court-yard, he eagerly ran down, as was his
invariable custom, to greet Josephine. To his great disappointment, the
carriage contained only some of her ladies. "And where is the empress?"
he exclaimed, in surprise. "We have preceded her by perhaps a quarter of
an hour," they replied. The emperor was now in very ill humor. "A very
happy arrangement," said he, sarcastically; and, turning upon his heel,
he ascended to the little library, where he had been busily employed.
Soon Josephine arrived. Napoleon, hearing the carriage enter the court,
coldly asked who had come. Being informed that it was the empress, he
moved not from his seat, but went on very busily with his writing. The
attendants were greatly surprised, for he never before had been known
to omit meeting the empress at her carriage. Josephine, entirely
unconscious of any fault, and delighted with the thought of again
meeting her husband, and of surprising him in his cabinet, hastened up
stairs and entered the room. Napoleon looked up coldly from his papers,
and addressed her with the chilling salutation, "And so, madame, you
have come at last! It is well. I was just about to set out for St.
Cloud." Josephine burst into tears, and stood silently sobbing before
him. Napoleon was conquered. His own conscience reproved him for his
exceeding injustice. He rose from his seat, exclaiming, "Josephine, I am
wrong; forgive me;" and, throwing his arms around her neck, embraced her
most tenderly. The reconciliation was immediate and perfect, for the
gentle spirit of Josephine could retain no resentment.
Napoleon had a very decided taste in reference to Josephine's style of
dress, and her only ambition was to decorate her person in a manner
which would be agreeable to him. On this occasion she retired very soon
to dress for dinner. In about half an hour she reappeared, dressed with
great elegance, in a robe of white satin, bordered with eider down, and
with a wreath of blue flowers, entwined with silver ears of corn,
adorning her hair. Napoleon rose to meet her, and gazed upon her with an
expression of great fondness. Josephine said, with a smile, "You do not
think that I have occupied too much time at my toilet?" Napoleon pointed
playfully to the clock upon the mantel, which indicated the hour of half
past seven, and, taking the hand of his wife, entered the dining-room.
Though Napoleon often displayed the weaknesses of our fallen nature, he
at times exhibited the noblest traits of humanity. On one occasion, at
Boulogne, he was informed of a young English sailor, a prisoner of war,
who had escaped from his imprisonment in the interior of France, and
had succeeded in reaching the coast near that town. He had secretly
constructed, in an unfrequented spot, a little skiff, of the branches
and bark of trees, in which fabric, almost as fragile as the ark of
bulrushes, he was intending to float out upon the storm-swept channel,
hoping to be picked up by some English cruiser and conveyed home.
Napoleon was struck with admiration in view of the fearlessness of the
project, and, sending for the young man, questioned him very minutely
respecting the motives which could induce him to undertake so perilous
an adventure. The emperor expressed some doubt whether he would really
have ventured to encounter the dangers of the ocean in so frail a skiff.
The young man entreated Napoleon to ascertain whether he was in earnest
by granting him permission to carry his design into execution. "You must
doubtless, then," said the emperor, "have some mistress to revisit,
since you are so desirous to return to your country?" "No!" replied the
sailor, "I wish to see my mother. She is aged and infirm." The heart of
the emperor was touched. "You shall see her," he energetically and
promptly replied. He immediately gave orders that the young man should
be thoroughly furnished with all comforts, and sent in a cruiser, with a
flag of truce, to the first British vessel which could be found. He also
gave the young man a purse for his mother, saying, "She must be no
common parent who can have trained up so affectionate and dutiful a
son."