Saint-Cloud. This visit to the banks of the Rhine made a great
impression on France, and indeed on all Europe. No theatrical manager
ever had a greater talent than Napoleon for what may be called the art
of the _mise en scène_. The stage was now set for the Coronation,
and the curtain was about to rise on one of the grandest spectacles the
world has ever seen.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
1804–1805
THE CORONATION
Cardinal Fesch Sent to Rome--The Pope Consents to Go to
Paris--Astonishment of Madame Mère--Joséphine’s Triumph Over
the Bonapartes--Preparations for the Ceremony--The Pope Arrives
at Fontainebleau--Joséphine’s Confession--The Excitement at
Paris--Isabey’s Ingenious Idea--Religious Marriage of Napoleon
and Joséphine--The Procession to the Cathedral--The Ceremony at
Notre-Dame--Joséphine Crowned by the Emperor--Her Joy--A Series
of Fêtes--Baptism of Napoleon-Louis
During his absence from Paris the Emperor had not lost sight of his
plans for the Coronation, and had sent his uncle Cardinal Fesch to Rome
as a special ambassador. He was to arrange with the Pope to come to
Paris to crown the new Charlemagne in his capital. If the Holy Father
consented, Fesch had full powers to arrange with him all the details of
the ceremony.
After much hesitation the Pope finally agreed to yield to the wishes
of the Emperor and go to Paris. This unheard-of act of condescension
filled the new sovereign with delight. The political consequences to
him were enormous: on the one hand, it assured his standing with the
large Catholic population of France, and on the other, it legitimized
his title in the eyes of the other sovereigns of Europe, and put an end
to the claims of the Bourbons.
The visit of the Pope to Paris was an event so extraordinary as to
seem to every one almost incredible. When the report was first spread
abroad, Madame Letitia, who was now called Madame Mère, was simply
astounded at the thought that the Pope, _il santissimo Padre_,
should condescend to make the journey to Paris to crown her _bambino
Napoleone_ as Emperor of the French! The good woman could hardly
realize it.
No one had followed the negotiations with more interest than Joséphine.
For her the important question was, would she be crowned with the
Emperor? This, she thought, would mean an assured future, with no
more worry over the perpetually recurring menace of divorce, which
empoisoned her entire existence. As she had anticipated, the Bonapartes
took this occasion to renew their efforts to persuade Napoleon to
repudiate his wife, and this time they might have gained their end if
they had used more tact. But they went too far in their attacks on
Joséphine, and as usual only succeeded in arousing their brother’s
wrath. In this crisis, Joséphine displayed so much grief, and at the
same time so much submission to his wishes, that Napoleon could not
bring himself to the point of repudiating her. “He took Joséphine in
his arms, and told her effusively that he would never have the strength
to part with her, even though public policy demanded it; then he
promised her that she should be crowned with him, and receive at his
side, from the hands of the Pope, the divine consecration.” Monsieur
Thiers, in relating this incident, adds that he took it from the
manuscript of the unpublished memoirs of a reliable person attached to
the imperial family, who was an eye-witness of the scene.
The preparations for the Coronation were on a grand scale, and nothing
was left undone to make the spectacle imposing and memorable. The
costumes were designed by the great painters David and Isabey. The
crown of the Emperor, modelled upon that of Charlemagne, was made by
Foncier, the leading jeweller of Paris, and was a wonderful work of
art. It can still be seen in the Gallery of Apollo at the Louvre.
In order to have the ceremony as perfect as possible, there were
several “dress-rehearsals” held at Notre-Dame. David arranged the
groups, and the scenes were repeated until each one knew his rôle
perfectly. The painter profited by these rehearsals to make the
sketches for his great painting of the Coronation, afterwards ordered
by the Emperor, which now hangs in the Louvre. When some one said later
to David that in his painting he had made Joséphine absurdly young, he
replied: “Go and tell her so!”
For the Coronation two dates had been considered: first, the 14 July,
anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, and second, the 9 November,
the day of the 18 Brumaire, when Bonaparte overthrew the Directory. But
both of these dates were manifestly inappropriate, and the delay of the
Pope in reaching a decision finally caused the day to be set for the
first week in December.
On the second day of November, the Pope, Pius the Seventh, then
sixty-two years of age, left Rome for his long and tiresome journey to
Paris. At the same time Napoleon was hurrying the work on the château
of Fontainebleau, so that it should be ready to receive the Holy
Father on his arrival. As if by magic, in less than three weeks the
palace was redecorated and refurnished, with all its former splendor.
The Pope was expected to arrive on Sunday the 25 November. To avoid
all ceremony, Napoleon, dressed in hunting costume, left the palace
an hour before noon, and directed his horse to the part of the forest
by which the Pope was to arrive. As soon as his carriage stopped, on
meeting the Emperor, the Pope descended, and Napoleon dismounted. The
two illustrious sovereigns embraced cordially, and then entered the
Emperor’s carriage, which had been sent to meet them.
At the door of the palace, the Empress and the grand dignitaries of
the Court were gathered, to meet the Supreme Pontiff. Dressed in a
long white _soutane_, which fell around him like the drapery of
an antique statue, with his face devoid of color, the Pope had a most
ethereal air. His handsome and noble countenance, his sweet expression,
his soft but resonant voice, produced a strong impression.
The two sovereigns dined together, and the Pope retired at an early
hour, to rest after the fatigues of so long a journey. The following
day Joséphine managed to have a confidential interview with the Pope,
during which she confided to him the fact that she and Napoleon were
only united by a civil bond. She prayed him to use all his influence
with the Emperor to have him put an end to this situation which was
filling her heart with remorse! “Rest in peace, my daughter,” he said
on retiring, “that will be arranged.”
On Thursday the Pope made his entry into Paris, where he was received
with the same honors accorded the Emperor. He was lodged at the
Tuileries in the Pavillon de Flore, which had been prepared specially
for his reception. He arrived at the palace about eight o’clock in the
evening, in the same carriage with the Emperor. Joséphine, who left
Fontainebleau in the morning, had reached Paris a few hours earlier.
All Paris was excited over the approach of the great day. The hotels
were crowded with strangers who had come from far and near to be
present at the ceremony. All the shops were working night and day to
have the uniforms and the robes ready in time. The ladies were to wear
ball-dresses, with trains, with a collerette of blond lace called
_cherusque_, which, fastened upon the two shoulders and rising
quite high behind the head, recalled the fashions of the time of
Catherine de Médicis. The costumes of the men were also very rich.
A week before the ceremony the painter Isabey received from the
Emperor an order to make seven sketches, representing the number of
principal scenes in the spectacle at the cathedral. To prepare seven
such designs, each containing over a hundred figures, in the short time
at his disposal, was manifestly out of the question. In this dilemma
Isabey conceived the ingenious idea of purchasing a hundred dolls and
dressing them to represent the various personages. These he placed
in a plan in relief of the interior of Notre-Dame, and took them to
the Emperor. Napoleon was much amused and also much pleased at this
solution of the problem, and the miniature stage with the puppets was
used to instruct the actors as to their rôles in the spectacle.
The Pope kept his promise to Joséphine, and, on the night before
the Coronation, Cardinal Fesch, at an altar erected in the Emperor’s
cabinet, performed the religious marriage of Napoleon and Joséphine.
No witnesses were present, but after the ceremony the cardinal gave
Joséphine a formal certificate of her marriage, which she always
carefully guarded.
At last the great day arrived. The second of December dawned cold and
foggy, but the bright sun soon dissipated the mists. At an early hour
the streets were crowded with spectators, and windows along the route
of the procession rented as high as three hundred francs.
Before the departure for Notre-Dame the ladies of the palace were
introduced to the apartment of the Empress. Their costumes were
very brilliant, but they paled before those of the Imperial family.
Joséphine, resplendent with diamonds, her hair dressed in the mode
of Louis Quatorze, did not appear over twenty-five. She wore a robe
and court mantle of silver brocade, embroidered with golden bees, the
Imperial emblem. She had a head-band of diamonds, a necklace, earrings,
and a girdle, of very great value, all of which she wore with her
accustomed grace.
The Pope left the Tuileries at nine o’clock in a carriage drawn by
eight dapple-grey horses. According to Roman usage he was preceded by
one of his _cameriers_, mounted upon a mule, and bearing a large
cross. This unaccustomed sight greatly amused the Parisians.
The Emperor and Empress started over an hour later. Their carriage,
which is still preserved in the museum of the Grand-Trianon at
Versailles, was drawn by eight cream-colored horses, covered with
brilliant harnesses. It was decorated with allegorical paintings on
a gold background, and all the panels were of glass, so that the
sovereigns could be seen from every side. They left the Tuileries by
way of the Carrousel, and followed the Rue Saint-Honoré, as the Rue de
Rivoli was not then completed. Marshal Murat, at the head of twenty
squadrons of cavalry, led the way, and eighteen six-horse carriages
followed, with the principal personages of the Court. The streets were
guarded by a double line of infantry, who kept back the crowds.
Arrived at the palace of the archbishop, Napoleon put on the coronation
costume. Over a narrow robe of white satin, he wore a heavy mantle of
crimson velvet. On his head he placed a crown of golden laurels; on his
neck, the collar of the Légion d’honneur, in diamonds; at his side, a
sword ornamented with the Regent diamond.
After the High Mass, the Pope blessed the Imperial ornaments, and
then returned them to the Emperor: the ring, which he placed upon his
finger; the sword, which he replaced in its sheath; the mantle, which
was attached to his shoulders by the chamberlains; then the sceptre
and the “hand of justice,” which he gave to the Arch-Treasurer and the
Arch-Chancellor.
The only ornament which remained to be handed to the Emperor was the
crown. As the Pope was about to proceed with this final act of the
ceremony, Napoleon took from his hands the emblem of supreme power and
proudly placed it himself upon his head.
[Illustration: NAPOLEON]
It had been arranged that the train of the mantle of the Empress should
be borne by the five Imperial princesses: Julie and Hortense, the wives
of Joseph and Louis, and the three sisters of the Emperor, Élisa,
Pauline and Caroline. It was not without violent protests that
Napoleon’s sisters accepted this “servile” rôle.
When the moment arrived for Joséphine to take her part in the ceremony,
she arose and advanced towards the steps of the altar, where the
Emperor awaited her. All the ladies of the palace arose at the same
time, and the princesses who formed her “service d’honneur” proceeded
to perform their duty. The mantle of the Empress, of red velvet
embroidered with golden bees, and lined with ermine, was very heavy,
and the rôle of the princesses was far from being merely honorary.
The three sisters entirely neglected their part and the Empress was
unable to move forward. The quick eye of Napoleon at once took in the
situation, and a few sharp words to his sisters quelled the mutiny.
Arrived before the altar, Joséphine knelt, joined her hands, and
gracefully bowed her form. Napoleon then placed upon her head the small
closed crown surmounted by a cross; he even seemed to take a loving
pleasure in carefully arranging it upon her hair. Joséphine had never
been so happy, or seemed so charming as on this occasion. Isabey, who
had touched up her features with his painter’s art, had removed the
traces of time, and she looked fifteen years younger than her real age.
The head of Joséphine in David’s well known painting is a faithful
representation of her appearance on this day.
Mlle. Avrillon writes in her _Mémoires_: “Never have I seen upon
any countenance an expression of joy, of satisfaction, of happiness,
which could be compared to that which animated the face of the Empress:
she was radiant! The crown placed upon her brow by the hands of her
august spouse had assured her future, and seemed for all time to have
ended the rumors of divorce with which she had been so often tormented.”
After the ceremony the procession returned to the Tuileries by way of
the boulevards and the present Rue Royale, and entered the palace from
the Gardens. The day had been long and tiresome, and Napoleon was glad
to resume his modest uniform of colonel of the Chasseurs de la Garde.
He dined alone with Joséphine, whom he begged to retain the diadem
which she wore so gracefully, and which became her so well. He was in
excellent humor, and paid his wife a thousand compliments, saying that
she was the most charming empress in the world!
The Coronation was followed by a series of fêtes. On the 5 December
the Emperor distributed to the Army the Imperial eagles. The ceremony
took place on the Champ-de-Mars in the presence of the Empress and
all the high dignitaries of the Empire. Unfortunately the weather was
terrible: an icy rain fell in torrents, and the field was a sea of
mud. Notwithstanding the storm, the streets along the route of the
procession were crowded with spectators. In the evening there was a
grand banquet, served in the Galerie de Diane at the Tuileries. The
table of the sovereigns was placed on a magnificent dais: the Empress
was seated in the centre, with the Emperor at her right, and the Pope
at her left.
Of all the entertainments, the finest was that given by the marshals
at the Opéra on the 7 January 1805. The hall was transformed into a
magnificent ball-room, by a floor built over the parquet on a level
with the stage. The marshals arrived at eight o’clock, the Empress
at ten, and the Emperor an hour later. After a concert, the ball was
opened by Prince Louis, Marshal Murat, Eugène de Beauharnais, and
Marshal Berthier, who danced with the four Imperial princesses. The
Emperor twice made the tour of the room, and then retired at an early
hour.
The last of the fêtes was the baptism on the 24 March at Saint-Cloud
of Napoleon-Louis, the second son of Louis and Hortense. The ceremony
was performed by the Pope himself, a week before his departure for
Rome. Joséphine had been the godmother of the older boy, but on this
occasion Madame Mère was chosen to fill the rôle. Joséphine was
entirely satisfied, as this baptism seemed to seal the reconciliation
between the two families, and assure her future, as well as that of her
grandson.
From this date, up to the time of the divorce, there were no more
solemn baptisms. Napoleon and Joséphine indeed promised to give their
names to many children, but the Emperor always put off the ceremony,
which finally took place at Fontainebleau in November 1810. But on
this occasion there was another _marraine_, and the numerous
_Joséphines_ were presented at the font by a new Empress, who was
called Marie-Louise!
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
1804–1809
DAILY LIFE OF THE EMPRESS
Joséphine’s Places of Residence--Her Apartments at
the Tuileries--Her Frequent Alterations--Her Rooms at
Saint-Cloud--Her Daily Routine--Her Personal Attendants--Her
Toilette--Her Lingerie and Robes--Her Lavish Expenditures--Her
Debts Paid by the Emperor--Her Life at the Tuileries
Abandoning for a moment the chronological sequence of events, let us
endeavor to depict Joséphine’s mode of life during the time that her
career was linked with the Empire: from the 18 May 1804, when she was
saluted as Empress at Saint-Cloud, to the 15 December 1809, when her
marriage was dissolved at the Tuileries. To Frédéric Masson, of the
Académie Française, we owe many interesting details of the existence of
the Empress at this time.
During these five years and a half, Joséphine passed less than
twelve months in all at the Tuileries; she lived thirteen months
at Saint-Cloud, eight at Malmaison, and four at Fontainebleau. She
went twice to Plombières and once to Aix-la-Chapelle for the baths;
she lived six months at Strasbourg and four at Mayence; she visited
Germany, Italy and Belgium, the borders of the Rhine, and all of the
centre and south of France. To follow her in her journeys, to trace her
itinerary, would be both tedious and unprofitable; wherever she lived
her surroundings were practically the same, and the details of her
daily life never varied.
In the endeavor to emancipate himself from a part of the slavery to
which the sovereigns of France had always submitted, Napoleon divided
his existence into two parts: one, the exterior, which belonged to
the public; the other, the interior, which was intimate and private.
The first had for its theatre the State apartments, the second was
passed in the private rooms. But for the Empress this division was more
apparent than real: the two lives were constantly overlapping.
Now that the Tuileries have been destroyed for fifty years, it is
difficult to give any clear idea of the apartments occupied by
Joséphine, and especially so as she was continually changing the
arrangement of the rooms. The “Appartement d’honneur” of the Empress
was entered from the Carrousel at the corner of the Pavillon de Flore.
The windows in the salons were so high from the floor that a person,
when seated, could not see out; but Napoleon would allow no alterations
made, as it would have injured the appearance of the façade of the
palace. On the other side, the private rooms, which faced on the
Gardens, were only separated from the public sidewalk by a low terrace,
and it was possible for any passerby to see into the windows. Again the
Emperor refused to have any change made which would have deprived the
Parisians of the privilege of passing through the Gardens. It was not
until the days of the “people’s king,” Louis-Philippe, that the windows
were cut down, and a part of the Gardens was reserved.
The private apartment of Joséphine comprised only a library, a bedroom,
a dressing-room and bath-room. All these rooms, on the ground floor,
faced on the Gardens, and were the same that Joséphine and Hortense
had occupied when they first came to the Tuileries. The personal suite
of the Emperor, on the first floor, was reached by several private
staircases, one of which ascended from Joséphine’s bedchamber. These
stairways were so narrow that two persons could not pass. The rooms
on the Gardens were separated from those on the court by a long dark
corridor. Above a part of Joséphine’s suite there was a mezzanine
floor, or entresol, in which were located her wardrobes.
The decorations of her apartment, made at the beginning of the
Consulate, had never pleased Joséphine, who wished, above all, to have
a handsome bedroom. Accordingly, when she was absent in Germany in
1806, her rooms were entirely redecorated and refurnished by Fontaine,
in a truly imperial style, at a cost of one hundred thousand francs.
But Joséphine considered the work frightful, and a year later gave
orders to have it all done over, to suit her own taste. In the budget
of 1808, the Emperor allowed a credit of sixty thousand francs for
this work, but the final cost exceeded a quarter of a million. This
time the architects, discouraged by so many contradictory orders,
decided to follow their own ideas. When Joséphine returned from
Bayonne the work was all finished. She was furious because her orders
had been disregarded: the decorations were “heavy and out of style”;
the furniture was “too plain and too cheap.” She went to live at the
Élysée, and, with her numerous absences from Paris, never again
occupied the Tuileries for more than three months up to the day of her
divorce. At the time of his second marriage, therefore, Napoleon did
not think it necessary to make any great alterations for Marie-Louise
in the rooms which Joséphine had hardly used.
The arrangement of Joséphine’s rooms at Saint-Cloud was very similar
to that at the Tuileries, except that they were located on the first
floor, and were decorated in a more modern and more feminine style.
Napoleon, who liked everything severe, but handsome, was not pleased
with the furniture, which he did not consider in accord with the
majesty of his person and his reign. He said that Joséphine’s apartment
was fit only for a “fille entretenue.” Most of the visitors did not
agree with this opinion: they considered the rooms in good taste, and
much pleasanter than those in the Tuileries. On the walls were hung
many fine paintings taken from the Musée Napoléon. In the salon of the
Empress there was a handsome portrait of Madame Mère by Gérard. But
what attracted the most attention was a large mirror in one piece,
over the mantel: this was mounted on a back of solid silver, which
disappeared when a spring was pressed, and furnished a fine perspective
of the park, with the fountains, the vases and statues.
The chamber of Joséphine was particularly attractive, with the bed, in
the form of a small boat, of mahogany ornamented with gilded bronze;
and mirrors on all sides. The bath-room was entirely in marble, with
painted antique friezes.
At Saint-Cloud the etiquette was somewhat relaxed, and the life more
private. It was possible to walk in the restricted gardens, and to
make extended excursions in carriages, through the park and in the
neighborhood, particularly to Malmaison.
* * * * *
To give an idea of the tastes and occupations of Joséphine, we will
trace briefly the routine of one day. If the Emperor had passed the
night in her apartment, he rose at eight o’clock, and, at Paris,
ascended, or at Saint-Cloud, descended to his own rooms: only, at
Saint-Cloud, there was no private staircase, and he was forced to pass
through a long corridor to reach the public stairway.
Then the Empress’ women entered and drew the curtains. For her first
repast, Joséphine drank, in bed, a cup of infusion or a lemonade. She
always wore a nightcap of percale or embroidered muslin, trimmed with
lace. Although she had no end of night-dresses, she usually wore a
chemise, over which at night she put on a camisole. The door was then
opened for the entrance of her favorite pug dog, Fortuné, an ugly
mongrel cur. This was a successor to the dog of the same name under
whose collar she concealed her letters at the Carmes in 1794: that one
had been killed at Montebello.