Memoirs of the Empress Josephine, Vol. 1 of 2

by Madame de Rémusat

While the Emperor was inspecting the ports, the Empress went to Aix-la-Chapelle to drink the waters. She was accompanied by some of her new household, and M. de Rémusat was ordered to follow her, and to await the Emperor, who was to rejoin her at Aix. I was glad of this respite. I could not disguise from myself that so many new-comers were effacing by degrees her first estimate of my value to her, which had owed much to the non-existence of comparisons; and, although I was yet young in experience of the world, I felt that a short absence would be useful, and that I should afterward take, if not the first place, that of my choice, and hold it throughout securely.

Mme. de la Rochefoucauld, who attended the Empress, was then a woman of between thirty-six and forty years old, short and ill-made, with a striking countenance, but only ordinary abilities. She had a great deal of assurance, like most plain women who have had some success notwithstanding their defects. She was very lively, and not at all ill-natured. She proclaimed her adherence to all the opinions of those who were called “aristocrats” by the Revolution; and, as she would have been puzzled to reconcile those views with her present position, she made up her mind to laugh at them, and would jest about herself with the utmost good humor. The Emperor liked her because she was quick, frivolous, and incapable of scheming. Indeed, no Court in which women were so numerous ever offered less opportunity for any kind of intrigue. Affairs of state were absolutely confined to the cabinet of the Emperor only; we were ignorant of them, and we knew that nobody could meddle with them. The few persons in whom the Emperor confided were wholly devoted to the execution of his will, and absolutely unapproachable. Duroc, Savary, and Maret never allowed an unnecessary word to escape them, confining themselves strictly to communicating to us without delay such orders as they received. We were in their sight and in our own mere machines, simply and solely doing those things which we were ordered to do, and of about as much importance as the elegant articles of new furniture with which the palaces of the Tuileries and Saint Cloud were now profusely adorned.

I remarked at this time, with some amusement, that, as by degrees the grands seigneurs of former days came to Court, they all experienced, no matter how widely their characters differed, a certain sense of disappointment curious to observe. When at first they once more breathed the air of palaces, found themselves again among their former associates and in the atmosphere of their youth, beheld anew decorations, throne-rooms, and Court costumes, and heard the forms of speech habitual in royal dwellings, they yielded to the delightful illusion. They fondly believed that they might conduct themselves as they had been accustomed to do in those same palaces, where all but the master remained unchanged. But a harsh word, a peremptory order, the pressure of an arbitrary will, soon reminded them roughly that everything was new in this unique Court. Then it was strange to see how, despite all their efforts, they lost their presence of mind, feeling the ground uncertain under their feet, and became constrained and uneasy in all their futile little ways. They were too vain or too weak to substitute a grave bearing, unlike the manners of their past, for their former customs, and they did not know what course to adopt. The arts of the courtier availed nothing with Bonaparte, and so profited them not at all. It was not safe to remain a man in his presence—that is to say, to preserve the use of one’s intellectual faculties; it was easier and quicker for everybody, or nearly everybody, to assume the attitude of servility. If I chose, I could tell exactly the individuals to whom such a course came most readily; but, if I were to go more at length into this subject, I should give my Memoirs the color of a satire, which is neither according to my taste nor my intention.

While the Emperor was at Boulogne, he sent his brother Joseph to Paris, where all the governing bodies presented addresses to him and his wife. Thus, he assigned each person his own place, and dictated supremacy to some and servitude to others. On the 3d of September he rejoined his wife at Aix-la-Chapelle, and remained there some days, holding a brilliant Court and receiving the German Princes. During this sojourn, M. de Rémusat was directed to send to Paris for the company of the second theatre, then managed by Picard, and several fêtes were given to the Electors, which, although they did not approach the magnificence of later occasions, were very splendid. The Elector Arch-Chancellor of the German Empire and the Elector of Baden paid assiduous court to our sovereigns. The Emperor and Empress visited Cologne, and ascended the Rhine as far as Mayence, where they were met by a crowd of princes and distinguished foreigners. This excursion lasted until the month of October.

On the 14th Mme. Louis Bonaparte gave birth to a second son. Bonaparte arrived in Paris a few days later. This event was a great source of happiness to the Empress. She believed that it would have a most favorable effect upon her future, and yet at that very moment a new plot was being formed against her, which she only succeeded in defeating after much effort and mental suffering.

Ever since we had learned that the Pope would come to Paris for the coronation of the Emperor, the Bonaparte family had been exceedingly anxious to prevent Mme. Bonaparte from having a personal share in the ceremony. The jealousy of our Princesses was strongly excited on this point. It seemed to them that such an honor would place too great a distance between themselves and their sister-in-law, and, besides, dislike needs no motive of interest personal to itself to make anything which is a gratification to its object distasteful. The Empress ardently longed for her coronation, which she believed would establish her rank and her security, and the silence of her husband alarmed her. He appeared to be hesitating, and Joseph spared no argument to induce him to make his wife merely a witness of the ceremony. He even went so far as to revive the question of the divorce, advising Bonaparte to profit by the approaching event to decide upon it. He pointed out the advantage of an alliance with some foreign princess, or at least with the heiress of a great name in France, and cleverly held out the hope that such a marriage would give him of having a direct heir; and he spoke with all the more chance of being listened to, because he insisted strongly on the personal disinterestedness of advice which, if taken, might remove himself from all chance of the succession. The Emperor, incessantly harassed by his family, appeared to be impressed by his brother’s arguments, and a few words which escaped him threw his wife into extreme distress. Her former habit of confiding all her troubles to me now led her to restore me to her confidence. I was exceedingly puzzled how to advise her, and not a little afraid of committing myself in so serious a matter. An unexpected incident was near bringing about the very thing which we dreaded.

For some time Mme. Bonaparte had perceived an increase of intimacy between her husband and Mme. de ——. In vain did I entreat her not to furnish the Emperor with a pretext for a quarrel, which would be made use of against her. She was too full of her grievance to be prudent, and, in spite of my warning, she watched for an opportunity of confirming her suspicions. At Saint Cloud the Emperor occupied the apartment which opens upon the garden, and is on the same level. Above this apartment was a small suite of rooms communicating with his own by a back staircase, which he had recently had furnished, and the Empress strongly suspected the purpose of this mysterious retreat. One morning, when there were several persons in her drawing-room, the Empress, seeing Mme. de —— (who was then resident at Saint Cloud) leave the room, suddenly rose a few minutes afterward, and, taking me apart into a window, said: “I am going to clear up my doubts this very moment; stay here with all these people, and, if you are asked where I have gone, say that the Emperor sent for me.” I tried to restrain her, but she was quite ungovernable, and would not listen to me. She went out at the same moment, and I remained, excessively apprehensive of what might be going to happen. In about half an hour the Empress reëntered the room by the opposite door. She seemed exceedingly agitated, and almost unable to control herself, but took her seat before an embroidery frame. I remained at a distance from her, apparently occupied by my needlework, and avoiding her eye; but I could easily perceive her agitation by the abruptness of all her movements, which were generally slow and soft. At last, as she was incapable of keeping silence under strong emotion of any kind, she could no longer endure this constraint, and, calling to me in a loud voice, she bade me follow her. When we had reached her bedroom, she said: “All is lost. It is but too true. I went to look for the Emperor in his cabinet, and he was not there; then I went up the back stairs into the upper room. I found the door shut, but I could hear Bonaparte’s voice, and also that of Mme. de ——. I knocked loudly at the door, and called out that I was there. You may imagine the start I gave them. It was some time before the door was opened, and when at last I was admitted, though I know I ought to have been able to control myself, it was impossible, and I reproached them bitterly. Mme. de —— began to cry, and Bonaparte flew into so violent a passion that I had hardly time to fly before him and escape his rage. I am still trembling at the thought of it; I did not know to what excess his anger might have gone. No doubt he will soon come here, and I may expect a terrible scene.” The emotion of the Empress moved me deeply. “Do not,” said I, “commit a second fault, for the Emperor will never forgive you for having admitted any one, no matter whom, to your confidence. Let me leave you, Madame. You must wait for him; let him find you alone.” I returned at once to the drawing-room, where I found Mme. de ——. She glanced at me nervously; she was extremely pale, talked almost incoherently, and tried hard to find out whether I knew what had passed. I resumed my work as tranquilly as I could, but I think Mme. de ——, having seen me leave the room, must have known that the Empress had told me. Every one was looking at every one else and nobody could make out what was happening.

A few minutes afterward we heard a great noise in the apartment of the Empress, and of course I knew that the Emperor was there, and that a violent quarrel was taking place. Mme. de —— called for her carriage, and at once left for Paris. This sudden departure was not likely to mend matters. I was to go to Paris in the evening. Before I left Saint Cloud the Empress sent for me, and told me, with many tears, that Bonaparte, after having insulted her in every possible way, and smashed some of the furniture in his rage, had signified to her that she was at once to quit Saint Cloud. He declared that, weary of her jealous spying, he was determined to shake off such a yoke, and to listen henceforth only to the counsels of his policy, which demanded that he should take a wife capable of giving him children. She added that he had sent orders to Eugène de Beauharnais to come to Saint Cloud in order to make arrangements for the departure of his mother, and she added that she was now lost beyond redemption. She then directed me to go and see her daughter in Paris on the following day, and to inform her exactly of all that had occurred.

Accordingly, I went to Mme. Louis Bonaparte. She had just seen her brother, who had come from Saint Cloud. The Emperor had signified to him his resolution to divorce his wife, and Eugène had received the communication with his accustomed submission, but refused all the personal favors which were offered to him as a consolation, declaring that from the moment such a misfortune should fall upon his mother he would accept nothing, but that he would follow her to any retreat which might be assigned to her, were it even at Martinique, as he was resolved to sacrifice all to her great need of comfort. Bonaparte had appeared to be deeply impressed by this generous resolution; he had listened to all that Eugène said in unbroken silence.

I found Mme. Louis less affected by this event than I expected. “I can not interfere in any way,” she said. “My husband has positively forbidden me to do so. My mother has been very imprudent. She is about to forfeit a crown, but, at any rate, she will have peace. Ah! believe me, there are women more unhappy than she.” She spoke with such profound sadness that I could not fail to read her thoughts; but, as she never allowed a word to be said about her own personal position, I did not venture to reply in such a way as would make it evident that I had understood her. “And, besides,” said she in conclusion, “if there be any chance at all of setting this matter right, it is the influence of my mother’s tears and her gentleness over Bonaparte. Believe me, it is better to leave them to themselves—not to interfere at all between them; and I strongly advise you not to return to Saint Cloud, especially as Mme. N—— has mentioned you, and believes that you would give hostile advice.”