The civil marriage was celebrated on April 1 at St. Cloud, and the religious marriage on the 2nd in the Chapel of the Louvre; Napoleon’s uncle, Cardinal Fesch, officiating.
We have just read the real story of the wooing and home-coming; I will not spoil it by repeating the caricaturist’s version, quoting only a few lines:—
Louisa off for Paris set,
And by her anxious swain was met.
To see the lady, what a throng!
The road with flow’rs they strew’d along.
No sooner Nap beheld her charms
Than round the maid he threw his arms,
And gave her a true lover’s kiss,
As prelude to his greater bliss.
* * * * *
Oh what rejoicings and what fêtes!
What hurly-burly in the streets!
The marriage, as it was advised,
Now publicly was solemnized;
The first of April, as they say,
Was chosen for the happy day,
When children, in and out of school,
Are trying to make each a fool.
FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MARIA LOUISA.
This year is so unproductive of Napoleonic caricatures, that I can only find one worth mentioning, and this is apropos of the marriage: it is called ‘Three Weeks after Marriage, or the Great little Emperor playing at Bo-peep,’ and is by Rowlandson (May 15, 1810). It shows the conjugal relations of Napoleon and his Empress, as they were supposed to be. She is in a violent rage, and, having knocked down Talleyrand, she hits him over the head with a sceptre; he, meanwhile, making moan: ‘Begar she will give us all de finishing stroke. I shall never rise again.’ She has plucked off her crown, and is about to throw it at the Emperor, who dodges behind an armchair, calling out, ‘Oh Tally, Tally, rise and rally.’ She fiercely declaims, ‘By the head of Jove, I hate him worse than Famine or Disease. Perish his Family; let inveterate Hate commence between our Houses from this Moment, and, meeting, never let them bloodless part.’ Somebody, probably one of the marshals, has got behind the curtains for safety, calling out, ‘Marblue. Vat a Crown Cracker she be.’
At the time of the marriage the English newspapers were much taken up with Sir Francis Burdett, and consequently Napoleon’s marriage did not receive the attention it otherwise might have claimed. In a notice of the religious ceremony, however, the ‘Times’ breaks out with a little bit of spite, ‘The Imperial Ruffian, and his spouse, again knelt at the “Ite, missa est.”’