The Happy Days of the Empress Marie Louise

by Imbert de Saint-Amand

THE CIVIL WEDDING.

The civil wedding of Napoleon and Marie Louise was celebrated at Saint Cloud, Sunday, April 1,1810. At the end of the Apollo Gallery, which was adorned with Mignard's frescoes, and still full of reminiscences of the great century, had been placed on a platform two armchairs, each under a canopy; the one to the right for the Emperor, the other for the Empress. Below the platform, and to one side, was a table covered with a costly cloth, on which were an inkstand and the civil registers. At two in the afternoon the Colonel of the Guard on duty and the high officers of the crown of France and Italy went to escort Their Majesties. The procession formed and made its way through the Emperor's study, the Princes' drawing-room, the throne-room, the Mars room, to the Gallery of Apollo, in the following order: ushers, heralds-at-arms, pages, assistants to the masters of ceremonies, the masters of ceremonies, the officers of the household of the King of Italy, the equerries of the Emperor, his aides-de-camp, the two equerries on duty, the aide on duty, the Governor of the Palace, the Secretary of State of the Imperial family, the high officers of the crown of Italy, the High Chamberlain of France and the one of Italy, the Grand Master of Ceremonies and the Chief Equerry of Italy, the Princes who were high dignitaries, the Princes of the family, the Emperor, the Empress; and behind Their Majesties, the Colonel of the Guard on duty, the Chief Marshal of the Palace, the Grand Master of the House of Italy, the Grand Almoner of France, the one of Italy, the Knight of Honor and the Prince Equerry of the Empress, carrying the train of her cloak, the maids-of-honor of France and Italy and the Lady of the Bedchamber, the Princesses of the family, the ladies of the palace, the maids-of-honor of the Princesses, the officers on duty of the households of the Princes and Princesses.

When the procession had reached the Apollo Gallery, the ushers, the heralds-at-arms, and the pages drew up in line to the right and left in the Mars room, near the door. The officers and high officers of France and Italy, the maids-of-honor and the Lady of the Bedchamber took their places behind Their Majesties' chairs, in order of rank. The Emperor and Empress seated themselves on the throne, the Princes and Princesses on the right and left of the platform in the following order and according to their family rank: To the right of the Emperor:

His mother;
Prince Louis Napoleon, King of Holland;
Prince Jerome Napoleon, King of Westphalia;
Prince Borghese, Duke of Guastalla;
Prince Joachim Napoleon, King of Naples;
Prince Eugene, Viceroy of Italy;
The Prince Archchancellor;
The Prince Vice-Grand Elector.

On the Empress's left:—

Princess Julia, Queen of Spain;
Princess Hortense, Queen of Holland;
Princess Catherine, Queen of Westphalia;
Princess Elisa, Grand Duchess of Tuscany;
Princess Pauline, Duchess of Guastalla;
Princess Caroline, Queen of Naples;
The Grand Duke of Würzberg;
Princess Augusta, Vice-Queen of Italy;
Princess Stéphanie, Hereditary Grand Duchess of Baden;
The Hereditary Grand Duke of Baden;
The Prince Archtreasurer;
The Prince Vice-Constable.

As soon as the Emperor was seated, the Prince Archchancellor of the Empire, followed by the Secretary of State of the Imperial family, approached the throne, bowed low, and said: "In the name of the Emperor (at those words Their Majesties rose), Sire, does Your Imperial and Royal Majesty declare that he takes in marriage Her Imperial and Royal Highness Marie Louise, Archduchess of Austria, here present?" Napoleon replied: "I declare that I take in marriage Her Imperial and Royal Highness Marie Louise, Archduchess of Austria, here present." The same question was then put to Marie Louise in these terms: "Does Her Imperial Highness Marie Louise, Archduchess of Austria, declare that she takes in marriage His Majesty the Emperor and King, Napoleon, here present?" She answered: "I declare that I take in marriage His Majesty the Emperor and King, Napoleon, here present." Then the Archchancellor, Prince Cambacérès, announced the marriage in these words: "In the name of the Emperor and of the Law, I declare that His Imperial and Royal Majesty Napoleon, Emperor of the French and King of Rome, and Her Imperial and Royal Highness, the Archduchess Marie Louise, are united in marriage." At the same instant the ceremony was proclaimed by salvos of artillery fired at Saint Cloud and repeated in Paris by the cannon of the Invalides. Napoleon must have felt a thrill of pride at this moment. The Apollo Gallery, where the rite was celebrated, was full of pleasant memories; there it was that the Ancients were sitting on that eventful 19th Brumaire when the foundations of his vast power were laid, and there it was that he had uttered that ringing sentence, "Remember that I march in the company of the God of Fortune and the God of War." There it was that, May 18, 1804, he had said to the Senators who came to proclaim the Empire: "I accept the title which you deem of service to the nation's glory. I hope that France will never repent the honors with which it loads my family." And in this same gallery he was marrying in triumph the daughter of the Germanic Cæsars. The Palace of Saint Cloud brought him good luck. And yet it was from this palace that he set out two years later on the disastrous Russian campaign; and from there his successor, sixty years later, started for a still more ruinous war. And as for this Palace of Saint Cloud, so brilliant and radiant, what was to become of it? But in 1810 no one could have felt such fears for the future.

The marriage proclaimed, the document had to be signed. The Secretary of State of the Imperial family presented the pen to the Emperor and then to the Empress, who signed (without leaving their places or rising) on a table brought up before the throne. The Princes and Princesses then walked up to the table, and after bowing to Their Majesties, signed in the order fixed by the order of ceremonies. When, finally, the Archchancellor and the Secretary had affixed their signatures, the procession, in the same order as before, reconducted Their Majesties to the Empress's apartments.

Possibly only one thing gave Napoleon a vague uneasiness: fourteen of the Italian cardinals had approved as regular and satisfactory the judgment of the officials of Paris concerning the invalidity of the religious marriage with Josephine; while thirteen others, among whom was Consalvi, thought that the Pope alone was competent to decide so important a matter. The rumor had spread that these thirteen recalcitrant cardinals would not be present at the nuptial benediction to be given to Napoleon and Marie Louise the next day in the Salon Carré of the Louvre. But Napoleon in his wrath had exclaimed, "Bah! they will never dare to stay away!"

That evening after dinner Their Majesties went into the family drawing-room. The company that was to accompany them to the play assembled in the neighboring rooms. The orange-house, which had been converted into a court theatre, was illuminated. The piece to be given was Iphigenia in Aulis, one of the favorite operas of the unhappy Marie Antoinette, the new Empress's great-aunt. The choice of this piece seemed an unhappy one; for Iphigenia recalled the idea of a sacrifice, and the aristocracy of Europe thought that Marie Louise had been sacrificed. General de Ségur, in spite of his admiration for the Imperial glories, says in his Memoirs: "The feeling that prevailed in Paris, along with the general curiosity, was surprise at the presence of a princess ascending a throne reared so near the scaffold stained with the blood of one of her near relatives. This cruel memory offended the feeling of propriety peculiar to the French and especially to the Parisians. They were insensibly pained by this reminder which made too evident the sacrifice extorted from Austria, and they felt that their victory had been carried too far. They condemned the imitation of Louis XVI., whose sad fate was attributed to a similar selection." But the fickle crowd which assembled, eager for pleasure in the park of Saint Cloud, made no such reflections. "The illumination of the park," says the Moniteur, "had been arranged with infinite art; the fountains were rendered more brilliant by the lights which were thrown upon the cascades. The great waterfall especially produced a magical effect. Poets, in their description of enchanted gardens, have given but a feeble idea of such an appearance and of such an effect of light. Throughout the park sports of all kinds had been prepared. An immense crowd, from Paris and the suburbs, took part in the festival, which was most gay and animated. The arrangements were novel and far exceeded general expectations."

At Saint Cloud, Sunday, April 1, 1810, when the civil marriage was celebrated, the weather was pleasant, while in Paris the streets were flooded by a heavy rain. The next day, that of the religious marriage, it rained at Saint Cloud, but the weather in Paris was magnificent, so that nothing was lost of the magnificence of the procession or of the brilliancy of the illuminations. The Emperor's good fortune, it was said, had twice triumphed over the equinoctial storms. In the ever-flattering Moniteur it was said: "April 2 had been chosen for Their Majesties' entrance into the capital and the wedding rites. One strange circumstance aroused universal attention and called forth much favorable comment. A tempest had raged almost all of the previous night…. It was hence natural to suppose that all the preparations which for a month had excited general interest would have to be kept until a more favorable day; but such was not the case, and what has often happened occurred once more. The agreeable temperature which the sunshine produced was the more remarkable because it lasted only while the festivities were going on, beginning and ending with them, and never was one more strongly reminded of the two familiar lines of Virgil when, recalling the tempest in the night and the calm of the day appointed for a great entertainment, he represents the heavens under the divided control of Augustus and Jupiter:—

"'Nocte pluit totâ, redeunt spectacula mane,
Divisum imperium cum Jove Cæsar habet.'"