Happy’s the wooing
That’s not long a-doing,
the perfection of bliss to the principal parties concerned. It was all settled in four-and-twenty hours, and Berthier, as Napoleon’s proxy, married Maria Louisa at Vienna on March 11, and, two days afterwards, she started on her journey to France.
We are indebted to Madame Junot for an insight into her innocent and childlike character: ‘At length the day of departure arrived. The young Empress bade farewell to all the members of her family, and then retired to her apartment, where etiquette required that she should wait till Berthier came to conduct her to her carriage. When Berthier entered the cabinet, he found her bathed in tears. With a voice choked with sobs, she apologised for appearing so childish: “But,” says she, “my grief is excusable. See how I am surrounded here by a thousand things that are dear to me. These are my sister’s drawings; that tapestry was wrought by my mother; those paintings are by my uncle Charles.” In this manner she went through the inventory of her cabinet, and there was scarcely a thing, down to the carpet on the floor, which was not the work of some beloved hand.
‘There were her singing birds, her parrot, and, above all, the object which she seemed to value most, and most to regret—a little dog. It was of course known at the Court of Vienna how greatly the Emperor used to be annoyed by Josephine’s favourite pet dogs, with Fortuné at their head. Therefore, Francis II., like a prudent father, took care that his daughter should leave her pet dog at Vienna. Yet it was a cruel separation, and the princess and her favourite parted with a tender duo of complaint.’
But the surprises in store for her on her journey soon made her forget her dog and parrot. She was met at Braunau by Caroline Bonaparte, Queen of Naples, and sister of the Emperor. At this place, on the frontier of Austria and Bavaria (the latter of which was then part of the French empire), a wooden building had been erected for the use of the French and Austrian suites. Napoleon could play many parts, and he played the rôle of devoted lover to perfection. At Munich an officer met the new Empress with a letter from her husband. At Strasburg a page was waiting for her with another letter, some choice flowers, and some pheasants shot by the imperial gun; and every morning brought a page with a letter, which the young bride immediately answered.
Every detail of her progress had been settled with rigid ceremonial, and at one place (Compiègne) it was appointed that he was to meet her, when ‘the Empress should prepare to kneel, and the Emperor should raise her, embrace, and seat her beside him.’ But the imperial bridegroom was far too impatient for that. Accompanied by the King of Naples (Murat), he left the palace privately, and pushed on to the village of Courcelles, where he anxiously awaited her arrival. When the carriage stopped, he ran towards it, opened the door himself, and jumped in without any announcement, the bride being only advised of his advent a moment before by the startled exclamation of the Queen of Spain: ‘It is the Emperor!’
Two days afterwards they made their state entry into Paris, where Napoleon, from a balcony at the Tuileries, presented his young bride to the assembled multitude.
Once more to quote Madame Junot: ‘On returning from the balcony, he said to her, “Well, Louise, I must give you some little reward for the happiness you have conferred on me,” and, leading her into one of the narrow corridors of the palace, lighted only by one lamp, he hurried on with his beloved Empress, who exclaimed, “Where are we going?”—“Come, Louise, are you afraid to follow me?” replied the Emperor, who now pressed to his bosom, with much affectionate tenderness, his young bride.
‘Suddenly they stopped at a closed door, within which they heard a dog that was endeavouring to escape from the apparent prison. The Emperor opened this private door, and desired Louise to enter. She found herself in a room magnificently lighted; the glare of the lamps prevented her for some moments from distinguishing any object. Imagine her surprise when she found her favourite dog from Vienna was there to greet her; the apartment was furnished with the same chairs, carpet, the paintings of her sisters, her birds—in short, every object was there, and placed in the same manner as she had left them on quitting her paternal roof.
‘The Empress, in joy and gratitude, threw herself in Napoleon’s arms, and the moment of a great victory would not have been to the conqueror of the world so sweet as this instant of ecstasy was to the infatuated heart of the adoring bridegroom. After a few minutes had been spent in examining the apartment, the Emperor opened a small door; he beckoned to Berthier, who entered. Napoleon then said, “Louise, it is to him you are indebted for this unexpected joy: I desire you will embrace him, as a just recompense.” Berthier took the hand of the Empress; but the Emperor added, “No, no, you must kiss my old and faithful friend.”’