On the Monday evening a concert was to take place in the apartments of the Empress. The Pope, however, declined to be present, and retired just as the entertainment was about to begin.
At this time the Emperor took a fancy to Mme. de X——, and whether it was that his budding passion had inspired him with a wish to please, or that his satisfaction at the success of his plans kept him in good humor, I can not say; certain it is, however, that while we were at Fontainebleau he was more affable and approachable than usual. After the Pope had retired, the Emperor remained in the Empress’s drawing-room, and talked, not with the men, but, by preference, with the women who were there. His wife, keen of perception where anything which aroused her jealousy was in question, was struck by this departure from his ordinary habits, and suspected that some new fancy was the cause of it. She could not, however, discover the real object of his thoughts, because he very adroitly paid marked attention to each of us in succession; and Mme. de X——, who as yet conducted herself with great reserve, did not seem to perceive that she was the particular object of the general gallantries that the Emperor affected to distribute among us. Some of those present believed that the Maréchale Ney was about to receive his homage. The Maréchale is the daughter of M. Augué, formerly Receiver-General of Finance, and her mother was one of the Bedchamber Women to Queen Marie Antoinette. She was educated by her aunt, Mme. Campan, and when in her establishment became the friend and companion of Hortense de Beauharnais, now the Princess Louis. She was at this time about twenty-two or twenty-three years old, and rather pretty, but too thin. She knew very little of the world, was excessively shy, and had not the slightest desire to attract the Emperor, whom she regarded with extreme dread.
During our sojourn at Fontainebleau, a decree of the Senate was published in the “Moniteur.” It was to the effect that, according to the verification of the registers of the votes given upon the question of the Empire, made by a commission of the Senate, Bonaparte and his family were declared to be called to the throne of France. The general total of voters amounted to 3,574,898. Of these, 3,572,329 were ayes, 2,569 noes.
The Court returned to Paris on Thursday, the 29th of November. The Emperor and the Pope traveled in the same carriage, and his Holiness was lodged in the Pavilion of Flora. Certain members of the household were appointed to attend on him.
During the first few days of his residence in Paris, the Pope was not treated by the inhabitants with all the respect which might have been anticipated. A crowd, attracted by curiosity, thronged his path when he visited the churches, and assembled under his balcony when he appeared there to give his blessing. By degrees, however, the description of the dignity of his manners given by those who had access to him, several noble and affecting sayings of his on different occasions, and the self-possession which he maintained in a position so new and strange to the head of Christendom, produced a marked change even among the lower classes of the people.
Every morning the terrace of the Tuileries was covered with a great multitude, calling loudly for him, and kneeling to receive his blessing. The people were admitted to the gallery of the Louvre at certain specified times during the day, and then the Pope would walk from end to end of it and bless the multitude. Mothers flocked thither with their children, and were received with special kindness. One day an individual who was a well-known enemy of religion was in the gallery when the Pope arrived, and, as his curiosity urged him to stay, he held himself aloof, as though to avoid the benediction. The Pope drew near him, divined his secret hostility, and said to him, in the gentlest tone: “Why do you avoid me, sir? Is there any danger in an old man’s blessing?”
Very soon all Paris resounded with praise of the Pope, and the Emperor’s jealousy was excited. He made certain arrangements which obliged his Holiness to deny himself to the too eager entreaties of the faithful; and the Pope, who detected the Emperor’s uneasiness, adopted extreme reserve, but without allowing the slightest sign of human pride to appear in his manner or conduct.
Two days before the coronation, M. de Rémusat, who, in addition to being Grand Chamberlain, was also Keeper of the Wardrobe, and therefore charged with all the details of the Imperial costumes, submitted to the Empress the superb diadem which had just been made for her. He found her in a state of delight and satisfaction, which she could hardly conceal from general notice. Presently she took my husband apart, and confided to him that, on the morning of that same day, an altar had been erected in the Emperor’s cabinet, and that Cardinal Fesch had performed the marriage ceremony between herself and Bonaparte, in the presence of two aides-de-camp. After the ceremony she had procured a written certificate of the marriage from the Cardinal. She carefully preserved this document, and, notwithstanding all the Emperor’s efforts to obtain it from her, she never could be induced to part with it.
It has since been said that any religious marriage not witnessed by the curé of the parish in which it is celebrated is de facto null and void, and that a means of breaking the marriage was purposely reserved by this expedient. In that case, Cardinal Fesch must have been a consenting party to the fraud; and yet his subsequent conduct forbids any such supposition. When violent quarrels arose on the subject of the divorce, and the Empress went so far as to threaten her husband with the publication of the certificate in her possession, Cardinal Fesch was consulted upon the point. He repeatedly affirmed that the document was in good form, and that his conscience obliged him to declare the marriage so validly solemnized that it could not be broken otherwise than by an act of arbitrary authority.
After the divorce the Emperor wanted to get possession of the document in question; but the Cardinal advised the Empress not to part with it. It is a remarkable proof of the extent to which suspicion and distrust prevailed among all the members of the Bonaparte family, that the Empress, while availing herself of advice that coincided with her own feelings, told me she sometimes thought the Cardinal gave her that advice in connivance with the Emperor, who wanted to drive her to some outbreak which would give him an excuse for banishing her from France. And yet, the uncle and nephew had quarreled, at that very time, about the Pope’s affairs.