fill Joséphine and Hortense with pride. “Nothing which is good, noble
and grand can astonish us on the part of our excellent Eugène,” Augusta
wrote to her _good mother_, “but since yesterday I am still more
happy and proud to be the wife of such a man; and to allow you to
share my joy I hasten to send you a copy of a letter he wrote me after
having refused a crown they offered him, if he consented to be an
_ingrat_, and a coward, in fine, to betray the Emperor like the
King of Naples.”
Notwithstanding this fine attitude on the part of Eugène, the Emperor
appears to have conceived some doubts of his entire fidelity, which
perhaps was natural in the midst of so many examples of treason and
ingratitude. Upon no other basis can we explain the letter he wrote
to Joseph from Nogent on the 8 February 1814: “My brother, have this
letter delivered personally to the Empress Joséphine. I have written
her in order that she may write to Eugène.” Upon receipt of this
letter, of which the text has been lost, Joséphine wrote her son:
_To the Viceroy Eugène_
MALMAISON, 9 February 1814
Do not lose an instant, my dear Eugène; no matter what the
obstacles, redouble your efforts to fulfill the order which the
Emperor has given you. He has just written me on this subject.
His intention is that you should retire upon the Alps, leaving
in Mantua and the (strong) places of Italy only the Italian
troops. His letter ends with these words: _France above all!
France needs all of her children_. Come then, my dear son,
make haste; never will your zeal have better served the Emperor.
I can assure you that every moment is precious. I know that
your wife was arranging to leave Milan. Tell me if I can be of
service to her.
Adieu, my dear Eugène, I have only the time to embrace you, and
to repeat to you to come very quickly.
JOSÉPHINE
At that critical time it took the fastest courier a week to go from
Paris to Milan, and it was not until the 18 February that Eugène
received at Volta this letter from his mother. He seems, quite
naturally, to have resented this new method of the Emperor, in
transmitting orders to one of his lieutenants through his mother,
instead of by the Minister of War, or the Chief of Staff. The tone,
almost of supplication, used by Joséphine, seemed to imply that the
Emperor doubted his fidelity.
There followed a long correspondence between the Viceroy and the
Emperor, for which we have no space here. It is all set forth at length
in the _Mémoires_ of Eugène, to which the reader is referred.
Eugène attempts, but with poor success, to justify his adhesion to what
he considered to be the letter, if not the spirit, of the Emperor’s
orders.
In the meantime the Allies were steadily drawing nearer to Paris, which
was a hotbed of treason. Even at Malmaison, although she knew it not,
Joséphine was surrounded by spies and traitors in her own household.
By decision of the Council of State, and the Emperor’s own orders,
Marie-Louise and the King of Rome were on the point of leaving for
Blois. Hortense, who had been commanded to follow the Court, wrote to
her mother, announcing the news. Joséphine replied:
_To Queen Hortense, at Paris_
MALMAISON, 28 March 1814
My dear Hortense, I had courage up to the moment I received your
letter. I cannot think without anguish that I am separating
myself from you, God knows for how long a time. I am following
your advice: I shall leave to-morrow for Navarre. I have here
only a guard of sixteen men, and all are wounded. I shall keep
them, but really I have no need of them. I am so unhappy at
being separated from my children that I am indifferent to my
fate. I am troubled only about you. Try to send me news; keep
me informed of your plans, and tell me where you go. I shall at
least try to follow you from afar.
Adieu, my dear daughter: I embrace you tenderly.
JOSÉPHINE
The following morning, which was cold and wet, Joséphine left Malmaison
with her household. As she was not sure of finding relays at the posts
en route, she took all of her horses and carriages. In cash, she had
only about fifty thousand francs which she had borrowed from Hortense
and one or two friends. In a wadded petticoat were sewn her most
valuable diamonds and pearls, while her jewelry cases were packed in
the carriages. It was impossible to carry with her anything more.
She travelled slowly, passing the night at Mantes, and taking two days
for the journey. She was very well received at Évreux. The authorities
offered her a guard of honor at the château, for she had left behind at
Malmaison the sixteen wounded soldiers of the Imperial Guard.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
1814
THE LAST DAYS AT MALMAISON
Joséphine at Navarre--Arrival of Hortense--The Emperor
at Fontainebleau--The Treaty of the 11 April--Provisions
for the Family--Joséphine Returns to Malmaison--Hortense
Arrives--The Czar Calls--Eugène Leaves Italy--He Is Called to
Paris--Hortense, Duchesse de Saint-Leu--Eugène Received by
the King--Joséphine’s Fears--Her Final Illness and Death--How
Napoleon Received the News--His Visit to Malmaison
At Navarre, Joséphine found herself entirely out of touch with
everything and everybody. The day after her arrival she sent her
daughter the following letter, the last one which we have in the
collection of Queen Hortense:
_To Queen Hortense (at Chartres)_
NAVARRE, 31 March 1814
My dear Hortense, ... I cannot tell you how miserable I am.
In the painful positions in which I have found myself, I have
had courage: I shall have it to bear the reverses of fortune;
but I have not sufficient to put up with the absence of my
children and the uncertainty of their fate. For two days I have
not ceased to shed tears. Send me news of yourself and of your
children; if you have any of Eugène and of his family let me
know. I very much fear that no news will come from Paris, as the
post from Paris to Évreux is suspended, which has caused many
rumors. Among other things it is said that the Neuilly bridge
has been occupied by the enemy. This would be very near to
Malmaison....
Adieu, my dear daughter, I await your reply to console me. I
tenderly embrace you, as well as your children.
JOSÉPHINE
Hardly was this letter written and despatched when a courier arrived
from Hortense, with the news that Paris had capitulated, and that the
Emperor was at Fontainebleau; then Hortense herself suddenly appeared,
with her children.
After much hesitation, as to whether to leave Paris or to remain, at
nine o’clock on the night of the 29 March, under the threat of Louis
to take her children, Hortense had decided to set out, and rejoin
Marie-Louise. She spent the first night at Glatigny, near Versailles;
the next morning, at an early hour, she went to the Trianon; and later,
proceeded to Rambouillet. There she found her brothers-in-law, Joseph
and Jérôme, and spent the night. The following morning she received a
courier from Louis bearing a formal order from the Regent to rejoin
her at Blois. In this Hortense saw another instance of her husband’s
“persecutions.” She notified Louis, Marie-Louise, and the Emperor, of
her refusal to obey; ordered her carriage, and started for Navarre.
At Maintenon she found an escort, and after dark arrived at a château
belonging to a member of her household. At five o’clock the next
morning, the first of April, she again started out, and, ten miles
from Navarre, was met by M. de Pourtalès with some horses sent by her
mother.
During the night of the second-third April a representative of the
Duc de Bassano arrived as bearer of definite news from Fontainebleau.
He recounted the treason of Marmont, the occupation of Paris, and the
despair of the Emperor. The scene related by Mlle. Cochelet is entirely
imaginary. No one had then heard of any plan to send Napoleon to Elba,
and Joséphine could hardly have exclaimed: “But for his wife, I would
go to join him in his captivity.”
After this, several days passed without further news. On the 7 April
Joséphine wrote to an old friend, the Comtesse Caffarelli: “Our
hearts are broken at all that is happening, and particularly at the
ingratitude of the French. The papers are full of the most horrible
abuse. If you have not read them, do not take the trouble, for they
will hurt you.”
In the meantime, at Fontainebleau, during these days of supreme agony,
Napoleon, “with an admirable lucidity and an admirable justice,” was
making what may be termed his political testament, and arranging the
future of his entire family. In the treaty signed on the 11 April by
the ministers of the allied powers, by the marshals in the name of the
Emperor, and by all the members of the provisional government--this
treaty which was the price of his abdication--the Beauharnais received
the greatest consideration. To the princes and princesses of the
Imperial family was attributed a revenue of two millions and a half of
francs, entirely apart from what property they might possess, either
real or personal. Of this sum, Louis was allowed two hundred thousand
francs; Madame, Elisa and Pauline, each three hundred thousand;
Hortense, four hundred thousand; and Joseph and Jérôme each five
hundred thousand. The allowance of the Empress Joséphine was reduced
to a million francs, and she too was permitted to retain all of her
property.
By another article it was provided that Prince Eugène, Viceroy of
Italy, should receive a “suitable establishment outside of France.”
The night of the 12 April, Napoleon sought by poison the death from
which he had escaped on so many fields of battle, but in vain. “God
does not wish it!” he said, and the following morning he in turn signed
the treaty.
That same day the Duc de Berry landed at Cherbourg, and en route for
Paris he sent one of the gentlemen who accompanied him, to Malmaison,
“to offer to Joséphine a guard of honor and to assure her that he would
be charmed to do everything in his power to be agreeable to her, as he
had for her as much respect as admiration.” But Joséphine had already
left Navarre for Malmaison. The 16 April the _Journal des Débats_
stated: “The mother of Prince Eugène has returned to Malmaison.”
Joséphine was far from being pleased with this form of announcement.
Alexander immediately sent one of his attendants to announce his visit
for the following day, and promptly at one-thirty o’clock he arrived.
It was evident that he had called to see Hortense rather than her
mother, but he was full of courtesy and deference for Joséphine, and
gave her all of her titles. After a long call, he left just at the
moment that Hortense arrived with her sons. “She, who was usually so
amiable, was hardly so with him; she remained cold, very dignified, and
made no reply to the offers which the Czar made for herself and her
children.” As for the Empress Joséphine, “her goodness, her kindness,
her frankness, all charmed him.”
During the past few weeks Joséphine, in her trouble, for once had
forgotten to order new gowns, but now her old desire to please and to
charm returned with full force, and she commanded a number of summer
frocks, in batiste and embroidered muslin, such as she formerly wore in
the “beaux jours” at Malmaison.
As Joséphine had expected, Alexander soon returned, but she perceived
that the visit was for Hortense, who again held herself aloof, and
treated him “as one should receive the conquerors of her country.” This
resistance, however, only served to increase the desire of Alexander to
win her, and he redoubled his attentions.
* * * * *
On the 17 April, when he received news of the events at Paris,
Eugène, who up to that time had held the Austrians in check, signed
an agreement for a suspension of hostilities, and took the route for
the Alps with the French troops in his army. In a final proclamation,
which did not mention the name of the Emperor, he made an appeal which
can only be considered as a personal bid for popular support: “A
people, good, generous, faithful, has rights upon the remainder of my
existence, which for ten years past I have consecrated to its service.
As long as I am permitted to occupy myself with its happiness, which
was always the dearest concern of my life, I ask for myself no other
future.”
At the same time Eugène persuaded the Italian troops under his orders,
to send a deputation in his favor to Paris. But during his absence
from Milan, three separate factions had developed: one favorable to
Murat, a second purely Italian, and a third, the strongest and richest,
for Austria. There was an _émeute_ at the capital, accompanied by
pillage, and finally a massacre.
When this news reached Mantua, the army acclaimed Eugène as King of
Italy, and wished to march on Milan, but the Viceroy realized that
there was no chance against a capital in revolt, and Austria, which
would send her troops there. “I do not wish,” he said, “to impose
myself upon a country which does not desire me, ... adding a civil war
with all its accompanying evils.... The country refuses my support.
It is enough.” On the 23 April he signed another convention with the
Austrians in which he surrendered everything, and departed for Munich
with his wife, and her baby who was only nine days old.
Eugène now had little to expect except under the provisions of the
Treaty of Fontainebleau, and the gratitude of Austria, fortified by the
support of Alexander. As soon as Joséphine knew that he was at Munich,
she wrote to urge him to come to Paris, and on the 9 May he arrived.
In the meantime the relations between the Czar and Hortense had become
more cordial. He was almost a daily visitor at Malmaison, and was
now on terms of intimate friendship with Joséphine and her daughter.
He had offered to procure for the Queen an independent position in
France, with an adequate revenue; the guardianship of her children;
and a ducal title, the highest that the King could confer. His thought
was to separate her interests entirely from any dependence on the
Emperor or his family. The letters patent, dated by the King in the
_eighteenth_ year of his reign, conferred the title of Duchesse de
Saint-Leu, not on Madame Louis Bonaparte, nor on the Queen of Holland,
but on _Mademoiselle de Beauharnais_! Hortense refused to accept
this formula. “I think that it is my duty,” she said, “not to allow
people to forget that I have been a queen, although I do not make it
a point of being so called.” It was finally arranged that she should
be designated as Madame de Beauharnais, and her susceptibilities were
satisfied.
There is little doubt that Joséphine wished to be confirmed in her
title of Duchesse de Navarre, but she refused to sign the letter to the
King prepared for her by Madame de Rémusat. There is reason to think,
however, that she wrote another, in which she asked for Eugène the
dignity of constable, the highest military gift in the power of the
King to bestow.
Eugène also had neglected nothing to conciliate the Bourbons. On his
departure from Munich, he wrote the King to announce his visit, for as
he said to his wife, “I could not think of arriving at Paris, without
at once presenting myself to him.” He had hardly reached Malmaison, and
embraced his mother and sister, before he received a summons to appear
at the Tuileries.
When Eugène was announced, under the title of Marquis de Beauharnais,
it is reported that the King arose from his chair, and advanced to meet
him, cordially extending his hand. He then exclaimed to the person who
had presented the Viceroy: “Say, His Highness Prince Eugène, Monsieur,
and add Constable of France, if such is his good pleasure!” This report
rests upon the authority of the editor of the _Mémoires du Prince
Eugène_, and may be true: it is certain that the Bourbons did
everything in their power to detach the Beauharnais from their adhesion
to the Emperor.
On the 14 May the Czar came informally to dine with Hortense, who was
now settled at Saint-Leu. Joséphine was present, but there were no
strangers except Caulaincourt and the wife of Marshal Ney. During the
drive in open carriages through the park, the Czar was very kind and
amiable, and expressed himself both to Eugène and Hortense as desirous
of doing everything in his power to assure their future.
Joséphine had come only upon the urgent request of Hortense; she was
sad and discouraged. She had but little confidence in the promises
of the Czar, and felt that after his departure the Bourbons would do
nothing. She realized better than her children how little confidence
could be placed in royal promises. When she read two days later in the
official journal that the Emperor of Russia had gone to Saint-Leu to
dine with “Prince Eugène, his mother and sister,” her comments were
very bitter. There seemed to be a deliberate intention to deny her the
position and rank which had been accorded her.
This visit to Saint-Leu was the beginning of Joséphine’s illness, which
was to terminate fatally exactly two weeks later. She took a severe
cold, which she refused to care for, saying that it was nothing. In
the evening she descended for dinner, clad in one of her lightest
décolleté gowns. After breakfast the following morning she returned to
Malmaison.
Monday, the 23 May, the King of Prussia came to call at Malmaison,
and remained for dinner. He was accompanied by his two sons, of whom
one was later to be known as the Emperor William. The following day
Joséphine had to receive the Russian grand-dukes, Nicholas and Michel.
These official receptions, these visits of ceremony, fatigued her
terribly. In the evening she came to dinner as usual. Later there was a
dance, and she opened the ball with the Czar; then they went into the
park, where they promenaded for a long time, and she took more cold.
Wednesday, the 25 May, a small eruption appeared all over her body,
but principally upon her arms and chest. Eugène and Hortense, who
were themselves both suffering from colds, were vaguely disturbed,
but far from anticipating a fatal result. He wrote Augusta that day:
“Our mother has been suffering for two days, and this morning she
has considerable fever; the doctor says that it is only catarrh, but
I do not think she is at all well.” The following night her regular
physician found her tongue affected and her whole head congested, and
applied a blister to her neck.
Friday, the 27 May, Alexander was to have dined with Joséphine for
the last time before leaving for London. On his arrival with several
other guests, he found both Joséphine and Eugène ill in bed, and only
Hortense able to receive the party, who all left early except the Czar.
Saturday, the illness of the Empress became so grave that there was
a consultation of physicians. Eugène wrote his wife that he did not
think his mother would live through the day. That night Joséphine
begged Hortense, who was nearly worn out, to retire and get a little
rest.
Sunday, the 29 May, which was Whit Sunday, it was evident that
Joséphine was dying. Her features had sensibly changed, and her
respiration was short and difficult. Hortense sent for Eugène, and
at noon Joséphine expired in their arms. Just before her death the
sacraments were administered by the Abbé Bertrand, tutor of Hortense’s
children, as Joséphine’s almoner was absent. According to legend, the
last delirious words of the Empress were: “Napoleon ... Elba!”
On Monday the body was embalmed and placed in a lead coffin enclosed
in oak. The public were now admitted to Malmaison, and it is estimated
that more than twenty thousand people passed before the bier.
The funeral took place on Thursday, the 2 June, when the coffin was
taken to the church at Rueil. All of the sovereigns present at Paris
were represented, and there was a large crowd at the church. The
military honors were furnished by a detachment of the Russian Imperial
Guards.
Joséphine’s tomb is at the right hand of the choir of the church.
It is of white marble, with a kneeling figure of the Empress in her
coronation robes. The inscription runs simply:
A
JOSEPHINE
EUGENE ET HORTENSE
1825
There was nothing mysterious about the death of Joséphine: no
indication, and no suspicion of poison; nevertheless there were rumors
that such was the cause of her death. The autopsy left no doubts as to
the origin and the progress of the malady: a cold, not cared for, and
aggravated by her imprudence.
Two hours after the death of Joséphine, in compliance with sovereign
etiquette, Eugène and Hortense left Malmaison for Saint-Leu, and were
not present at the funeral. Although they sent out the usual notices of
the death of their mother, neither one of them seems to have taken the
trouble to inform Napoleon of the event. He learned the news through
a paper sent him from Genoa by a valet whom he had sent to France,
charged with commissions for several persons, including Joséphine
herself. “At the news of her death,” writes an eye-witness, “he
appeared profoundly afflicted; he shut himself up in his room, and saw
no one except the grand marshal.”
A year later, before leaving Paris for the fatal campaign of Waterloo,
Napoleon wished to visit Malmaison, and was met there by Hortense, who
had not had the courage to return since the fatal day. For an hour he
walked with Hortense in the garden, talking only of Joséphine. Then
he visited one by one the different rooms, ending with the chamber
where Joséphine had died. Here he remained for a long time alone, and
came out with his eyes filled with tears. “Poor Joséphine,” he said to
Hortense, “she may have had her faults, but she at least would never
have abandoned me!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
1763–1814
JOSEPHINE’S PERSONALITY
Her Connection with Martinique--Her Statue at
Fort-de-France--Her Legend--Her Claims to Beauty--Her
Intellect--Her Prodigality--Her Personal Magnetism--Her
Affections--Her Desire to Please--Her Falsehoods--Her Final
Deception--Her Succession--Fate of Her Homes--Napoleon’s Last
Visit to Malmaison--The _Souvenir de Malmaison_
As the life of Napoleon will always be associated with the names of
three small islands: Corsica, Elba, and Saint Helena; so that of
Joséphine will ever be connected with Martinique. There is little of
interest in the capital city, Fort-de-France, apart from the Savane,
the large green public square, and there the visitor will be attracted
mainly by the beautiful marble statue of the Empress. “Sea-winds have
bitten it; tropical rains have streaked it; some microscopic growth has
darkened the exquisite hollow of the throat. And yet such is the human
charm of the figure that you almost fancy you are gazing at a living
presence. Perhaps the profile is less artistically real--statuesque to
the point of betraying the chisel; but when you look straight up into
the sweet Creole face, you can believe she lives: all the wonderful
West Indian charm of the woman is there. She is standing just in front
of the Savane, robed in the fashion of the First Empire, with gracious
arms and shoulders bare: one hand leans upon a medallion bearing the
eagle profile of Napoleon.... Over the violet space of summer sea,
through the vast splendor of azure light, she is looking back to the
place of her birth, back to the beautiful drowsy Trois-Îlets--and
always with the same half-dreaming, half-plaintive smile--unutterably
touching.”
The statue so lovingly described by Hearn may be said to bear about the
same relation to the real woman that the Joséphine of romance bears
to the Joséphine of history. Since her death a hundred and ten years
ago, the legend of Joséphine has passed through three phases. Under the
Restoration, it was Joséphine the protector of the Émigrés that all
good Royalists were called on to lament. The key-note was struck by the
Archbishop of Tours in his funeral oration: “How many unfortunates,
condemned, by their fidelity to the august family of the Bourbons, to
live in exile from their fatherland, are beholden to her persistent and
touching intercession for their restoration to their families, and to
the country which saw their birth?”