Part 6 (2/2)

She sprang to meet him. He fondly clasped her in his arms, and a.s.sured her that he had not spoken to a single individual since he had taken the oaths of office, that the voice of his Josephine might be the first to congratulate him upon his virtual accession to the empire of France. An animated conversation ensued, and then Napoleon, throwing himself upon his couch for a few moments' repose, gayly said, ”Good night, my Josephine! to-morrow we sleep in the Luxembourg.”

The next day the three consuls met in Paris. His colleagues, however, immediately perceived that the towering ambition of Napoleon would brook no rival. He showed them the absurdity of their plans, and compelled them to a.s.sent to the superior wisdom of his own. The untiring vigor of his mind, the boldness and energy of his thoughts, and his intuitive and almost miraculous familiarity with every branch of political science, overawed his a.s.sociates, and the whole power pa.s.sed, with hardly the slightest resistance, into his own hands. Immediately after their first interview, the Abbe Sieyes, who combined great weakness with extensive knowledge, remarked to Talleyrand and others, ”Gentlemen, I perceive that we have got a master. Bonaparte can do and will do every thing himself. But,” he continued, after a pause, ”it is better to submit than to protract dissensions forever.”

In this most astonis.h.i.+ng revolution, thus suddenly accomplished, and without the shedding of a drop of blood, Napoleon was much indebted to the influence which his wife had exerted in his behalf during his absence in Egypt. The dinners she had given, the guests she had entertained in her saloons evening after evening, consisting of the most distinguished scholars, and statesmen, and generals in the metropolis, had contributed greatly to the popularity of her husband, and had surrounded him with devoted friends. Napoleon ever acknowledged his obligations to Josephine for the essential service she had thus rendered him.

The next morning Napoleon and Josephine removed from their elegant yet comparatively plebeian residence in the Rue Chantereine to the palace of the Luxembourg. This, however, was but the stepping-stone to the Tuilleries, the world-renowned abode of the monarchs of France. They remained for two months at the Luxembourg. The energies of Napoleon were employed every moment in promoting changes in the internal affairs of France, which even his bitterest enemies admit were marked with the most eminent wisdom and benevolence. During the two months of their residence at the Luxembourg, no domestic event of importance occurred, except the marriage of Murat with Caroline, the sister of Napoleon. Caroline was exceedingly beautiful. Murat was one of the favorite aids of Bonaparte.

Their nuptials were celebrated with great splendor, and the gay Parisians began again to be amused with something like the glitter of royalty.

Each day Napoleon became more popular and his power more firmly established. Soon all France was prepared to see the first consul take up his residence in the ancient apartments of the kings of France. The Tuilleries had been sacked again and again by the mob. The gorgeous furniture, the rich paintings, and all the voluptuous elegance which the wealth of Louis XIV. could create, had been thrown into the court-yard and consumed by the infuriated populace. Royalty itself had been pursued and insulted in its most sacred retreats.

By slow and cautious advances, Napoleon refurnished these magnificent saloons. The emblems of Jacobin misrule were silently effaced. Statues of Brutus and Was.h.i.+ngton, of Demosthenes, and of others renowned for ill.u.s.trious deeds, were placed in the vacant niches, and the Tuilleries again appeared resplendent as in the days of pristine pride and power.

On the morning of the 19th of February, 1800, all Paris was in commotion to witness the transfer of the embryo court of the first consul and his colleagues from the Luxembourg to the Tuilleries. Already the colleagues of Napoleon had become so entirely eclipsed by the superior brilliance of their imperious a.s.sociate that their names were almost forgotten. The royal apartments were prepared for Napoleon, while those in the Pavilion of Flora were a.s.signed to the two other consuls. The three consuls entered a magnificent carriage, drawn by six white horses. A gorgeous train of officers, with six thousand picked troops in the richest uniform, surrounded the cortege. Many of the long-abolished usages of royalty were renewed upon that day. Twenty thousand soldiers, in most imposing military array, were drawn up before the palace. The moment the carriage appeared, the very heavens seemed rent with their cries, ”Vive le premier consul!” The two a.s.sociate consuls were ciphers. They sat at his side as pages to embellish his triumph. This day placed Napoleon in reality upon the throne of France, and Josephine that evening moved, a queen, in the apartments hallowed by the beauty and the sufferings of Maria Antoinette.

The suite of rooms appropriated to the wife of the first consul consisted of two magnificent saloons, with private apartments adjoining.

No French monarch ever sauntered through a more dazzling scene than that which graced the drawing-rooms of Josephine on this occasion.

Emba.s.sadors from nearly all the courts of Europe were present. The army contributed its utmost display of rank and military pomp to embellish the triumph of its most successful general. And the metropolis contributed all that it still retained of brilliance in ancestral renown or in intellectual achievement.

When Josephine entered the gorgeously-illuminated apartments of the palace, leaning upon the arm of Talleyrand, and dressed in the elegance of the most perfect simplicity, a murmur of admiration arose from the whole a.s.sembly. She was attired in a robe of white muslin. Her hair fell in graceful ringlets upon her neck and shoulders. A necklace of pearls of great value completed her costume. The queenly elegance of her figure, the inimitable grace of her movements, the peculiar conversational tact she possessed, and the melody of a voice which, once heard, never was forgotten, gave to Josephine, on this eventful evening, a social triumph corresponding with that which Napoleon had received during the day. She entered the rooms to welcome her guests before her husband. As she made the tour of the apartments, supported by the minister, whose commanding figure towered above all the rest, she was first introduced to the foreign emba.s.sadors, and then to others of distinguished name and note. ”Napoleon wins battles, but Josephine wins hearts.” This was the all-appropriate theater for the triumph of Josephine. Here she was entirely at home. Instinct taught her every thing that was graceful and pleasing. Etiquette, that stern tyrant so necessary for the control of common minds, was compelled to bow in subjection to Josephine, for her actions became a higher law. In the exuberance of benevolent joy, she floated through this brilliant scene, wherever she appeared exciting admiration, though she sought only to diffuse enjoyment.

Josephine was now about thirty-three years of age, and while in personal charms she retained all the fascination of more youthful years, her mind, elevated and enn.o.bled by reverses and sufferings most magnanimously borne, and cultivated by the daily exercise of its rich endowments, enabled her to pa.s.s from the circles of fas.h.i.+on to the circles of science, from those who thought only of the accomplishments of the person to those who dwelt in the loftiest regions of the intellect, and to be equally admired by both.

Her figure appears to have been molded into the absolute perfection of the female frame, neither too large for the utmost delicacy of feminine beauty, nor too small for queenly dignity. The exquisite symmetry of her form and the elasticity of her step gave an etherial aspect to her movements. Her features, of Grecian outline, were finely modeled, and through them all the varying emotions of the soul were unceasingly beaming. No one probably ever possessed in a higher degree this resistless charm of feminine loveliness. Her eyes were of a deep blue, and possessed a winning tenderness of expression when reposing upon those she loved which could not be resisted. Napoleon, even when most agitated by the conflicts of his stormy life, was speedily subdued by the tranquilizing power of her looks of love. But the tone and modulations of her voice in conversation const.i.tuted the most remarkable attraction of this most attractive woman. No one could listen to her sparkling, flowing, musical words without feeling the fascination of their strange melody. ”The first applauses of the French people,” says Napoleon, ”fell upon my ear sweet as the voice of Josephine.”

The rural charms of Malmaison, however, exerted a more powerful sway over both the first consul and his companion than the more splendid attractions of the Tuilleries. The Revolutionary government had abolished the Sabbath, and appointed every tenth day for rest and recreation. Napoleon and Josephine habitually spent this day at Malmaison. There, in the retirement of green fields and luxuriant groves, surrounded by those scenes of nature which had peculiar charms for them both, they found that quiet happiness which is in vain sought amid the turmoil of the camp or the splendor of the court. Josephine, in particular, here found her most serene and joyous hours. She regretted the high ambition of her husband, while, at the same time, she felt a wife's pride and gratification in view of the honors which were so profusely heaped upon him. It delighted her to see him here lay aside the cares of state, and enjoy with her the unostentatious pleasures of the flower-garden and the farm-yard. And when the hour came for them to return from their rural villa to their city palace, Napoleon often said, with a sigh, ”Now it is necessary for us to go and put on again the yoke of misery.”

The dangers of greatness soon began to hover around the path of the first consul. Josephine was continually alarmed with rumors of conspiracies and plots of a.s.sa.s.sination. The utter indifference of Napoleon to all such perils, and his entire disregard of all precautionary measures, only increased the anxiety of his wife. The road leading from Paris to Malmaison wound through a wild district, then but thinly inhabited, and which presented many facilities for deeds of violence. Whenever Napoleon was about to traverse this road, Josephine sent the servants of their private establishment to scrutinize all its lurking-places where any foes might be concealed. Napoleon, though gratified by this kind care, often amused and good-naturedly teased Josephine with most ludicrous accounts of the perils and hair-breadth escapes which he had encountered. She also had large and powerful dogs trained to guard the grounds of Malmaison from any intrusion by night.

On the evening of the day when Napoleon made his entry into the Tuilleries, he remarked to Bourrienne, ”It is not enough to be in the Tuilleries, we must take measures to remain there. Who has not inhabited this palace? It has been the abode of robbers--of the Convention. There is your brother's house, from which, eight years ago, we saw the good Louis XVI. besieged in the Tuilleries and carried off into captivity. But you need not fear a repet.i.tion of the scene. _Let them attempt it with me if they dare._” To all the cautions of his anxious wife respecting a.s.sa.s.sination, he ever quietly replied, ”My dear Josephine, they dare not do it.”

CHAPTER IX.

DEVELOPMENTS OF CHARACTER.

A.D. 1800-A.D. 1801

Second Italian campaign.--Its brilliant results.--Napoleon's desire to leave a name.--A faithful correspondent.--Delicate attentions of Napoleon to Josephine.--Her pastimes.--Retirement at Malmaison.--Private theatricals.--The game of ”Prisoners.”--The mode of playing it.-- Napoleon's favorite amus.e.m.e.nt.--He is no misanthrope.--Josephine's expansive benevolence.--Josephine's unwearied exertions in behalf of the emigrants.--The Marquis of Decrest.--Accidental death of his son.--Josephine arrests the grief of Decrest.--Her tenderness.--The Infernal Machine.--Its power.--Hortense wounded.--Napoleon proceeds to the opera.--Narrow escape of Josephine.--Treachery of the Royalists.--Fouche.--Josephine's letter to the Minister of Police.--She pleads for lenity in behalf of the guilty.--Character of Louis Napoleon.--He is disappointed in love.--Napoleon tries to heal the wound.--Character of Hortense.--She is married to Louis.--An uncongenial union.--Marriage of Duroc.--Letter from Josephine to Hortense.--She advises Hortense to be more kind to Louis.--Unhappy disposition of Louis.--Errors of Hortense.--Happiness to which she might have attained.--The spirit of Josephine.--Character of Hortense.--Calumnies against Napoleon.--They fail in their effect.-- Unjust remarks of Hortense.--Josephine's reply.--The love of glory Napoleon's ruling pa.s.sion.

During Napoleon's absence in Egypt the Austrians had again invaded Italy. The French troops had been beaten in many battles, and driven from vast extents of territory, over which Napoleon had caused the flag of the Republic to float in triumph. The first consul having, with almost superhuman energy, arranged the internal affairs of his government, now turned his thoughts toward the defeated armies of France, which had been driven back into the fastnesses of the Alps. ”I must go,” said he, ”my dear Josephine. But I will not forget you, and I will not be absent long.” He bade adieu to his wife at the Tuilleries on the 7th of May, 1800. At midnight of the 2d of July he returned, having been absent less than two months. In that brief period he drove the Austrians from all their strongholds, regained Italy, and by a campaign more brilliant than any other which history has ever recorded, added immeasurably to his own moral power. These astonis.h.i.+ng victories excited the Parisians to a delirium of joy. Night after night the streets were illuminated, and whenever Napoleon appeared, crowds thronged him, filling the air with their acclamations. These triumphs, however, instead of satisfying Napoleon, did but add fuel to his all-absorbing ambition. ”A few more great events,” said he, ”like those of this campaign, and I may really descend to posterity. But still it is little enough. I have conquered, it is true, in less than two years, Cairo, Paris, Milan. But, were I to die to-morrow, half a page of general history would, after ten centuries, be all that would be devoted to my exploits.”

During his absence Josephine pa.s.sed her time at Malmaison. And it surely is indicative not only of the depth of Napoleon's love for Josephine, but also of his appreciation of those delicate attentions which could touch the heart of a loving wife, that in this busiest of campaigns, in which, by day and by night, he was upon the horse's back, with hardly one moment allowed for refreshment or repose, rarely did a single day pa.s.s in which he did not transmit some token of affection to Malmaison.

Josephine daily watched, with the most intense interest the arrival of the courier with the brief and almost illegible note from her husband.

Sometimes the blurred and blotted lines were hastily written upon horseback, with the pommel of his saddle for his writing-desk. Sometimes they were written, at his dictation, by his secretary, upon a drum-head, on the field of carnage, when the mangled bodies of the dying and the dead were strewed all around him, and the thunders of the retreating battle were still echoing over the plains. These delicate attentions to his wife exhibit a n.o.ble trait in the character of Napoleon. And she must have been indeed a n.o.ble woman who could have inspired such a mind with esteem and tenderness so profound.

Josephine employed much of her time in superintending those improvements which she thought would please her husband on his return; creating for him pleasant little surprises, as she should guide his steps to the picturesque walk newly opened, to the rustic bridge spanning the stream, to the rural pavilion, where, in the evening twilight, they could commune. She often rode on horseback with Hortense, who was peculiarly fond of all those pleasures which had the concomitants of graceful display.

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