Increasingly heavy became to Napoleon the burden of his family. Joseph in Spain required huge armies and huge subsidies to uphold him there, and his correspondence with his brother was one long, lugubrious howl for “more.” Jerome’s reckless dissipations and extravagance in Westphalia scandalized Germany, bringing reproach upon the Empire. Lucien contributed his share of mischief by encouraging the ill-temper of the Pope. Pauline, Caroline, Elisa were so many thorns in the flesh, so many annoyances more or less acute. Brother-in-law Murat, by his pride and boasting and complaints, disgusted friends of the Emperor, arousing jealousies among old comrades who had not been made kings. Mother Letitia, like the mother of Washington, complained that the illustrious son had not done enough for the author of his being. Uncle Fesch, now a cardinal, had absorbed all the essence of his clerical order, and maddened his nephew by opposition in the quarrel with Rome.
And to cap a climax and advertise family feuds to the world, Louis Bonaparte vacated the throne of Holland, left the country privately, and went, almost as a fugitive, to “drink the waters” at Teplitz in Bohemia. For some days it was not even known what had become of him.
The Emperor’s grief, anger, and mortification were extreme. Stunned by the blow dealt him by his brother, he said in broken voice: “To think that Louis should make me this return! When I was a poor lieutenant of artillery, I divided my slender pay with him, fed him, taught him as though he were my son.” And this cross-grained, thankless Louis had brought shame upon Emperor and Empire! Why? Because the brother who had put the sceptre in his hand wished him to rule Holland as a province of the Empire, in line with the policy of the Empire, sharing all the benefits of the Empire, and sharing likewise its burdens! Because Napoleon would not consent that Holland should violate the Continental system, and become practically the ally of England in the great struggle for national supremacy, Louis had dropped the crown and gone away to drink mineral water in Bohemia.
A very aggravating mortal must have been this Louis, on general principles. Yielding to his brother’s influence, he had wedded Hortense, the daughter of Josephine. There was no love prior to this marriage, and none afterward. Despite Napoleon’s repeated, patient efforts, the two could never harmonize. With or without reason, Louis suspected the virtue of his wife. Ugly rumor reported that the first child of Hortense was not begotten by Louis, but by Napoleon. The younger brother may not have believed the story, but the fondness of the childless elder brother for the son of the younger, attracted attention and excited remark. The child was a promising boy; he was named after his uncle Napoleon, and he was devotedly fond of this uncle. The little fellow would come into Napoleon’s room, put on the Emperor’s hat, catch up his sword, put the belt over his shoulders, and, whistling a military air, go marching about in military style, with the sword dragging along on the floor. And Napoleon would be thrown into ecstasy, and would cry out, rubbing his hands: “Look at him! See the pretty picture!”
His love for the boy growing with the boy’s growth, Napoleon had offered to make him King of Italy, preparatory, doubtless, to adopting him as heir to the Empire. Louis would not hear of it. Put his son above him? Give his child a throne, when he himself had none? Never in the world! So he objected flatly, saying to his brother with unparalleled impudence, “Such a favor from you to this child would revive the rumors that you are his father.”
Is it any wonder that Napoleon’s temper escaped control, and that he caught Louis about the body and flung him out at the door?
The little Napoleon had died, Hortense had separated from her impossible spouse, and was going a rapid pace of her own, with a certain Duc de Flahaut, famous for his shapely legs,—so much so that they wrung from the Emperor an exclamation on the subject of Flahaut and “his eternal legs.” Holland’s throne was vacant: what was Napoleon to do? Give it to some one else who would be as ungrateful as Louis had been? Abandon it entirely, and see England get a foothold there?
To escape the dilemma, Holland was annexed to the Empire (July, 1810).
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The royal line of Sweden was about to become extinct. It became necessary to provide for the succession. The Swedes decided to choose a Crown Prince from among the illustrious Frenchmen who stood around Napoleon’s throne. They wished to win Napoleon’s good-will and protection by selecting one of his favorites, and they were made to believe that they could not please him better than by the choice of Bernadotte.