CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1809
THE DIVORCE
Eugène Reaches Paris—His Difficult Position—He Arranges a Final Conference—Refuses the Crown of Italy—The Family Council at the Tuileries—Address of the Emperor—Josephine’s Touching Reply—Eugene’s Address to the Senate—Napoleon Leaves for the Trianon—Josephine’s Departure from the Tuileries—Annulment of the Religious Marriage—The Legend of Joséphine
Prince Eugene arrived in Paris on the 8 December. At the time he left Milan he was still ignorant of the reasons for his summons, but Hortense, by order of the Emperor, met him at Nemours, a few miles south of Fontainebleau, and broke the sad news. Joséphine had looked forward to his arrival, with the hope that he might turn the Emperor from his purpose, even at the last moment; but this illusion was soon dissipated.
The position of Eugène was very difficult. He was devoted to his mother, but he owed everything to the Emperor. It was not easy to reconcile his feeling of filial tenderness, with the respect and the gratitude which bound him to Napoleon. At his first interview he saw that the divorce was no longer an open question, and that it would be useless for him to raise any objections. He demanded the permission of the Emperor to retire to private life, saying that he could no longer hold the office of viceroy when his mother had ceased to be empress. To which the Emperor replied: “Do you not realize how imperious are the reasons which force me to take this step? If Heaven grants me the object of my dearest hopes, the son so necessary to me, who will take my place by his side when I am absent? Who will be to him a father, if I die? Who will bring him up? Who will make a man of him?”
In order to settle the matter definitely, without any further delay, Eugène asked the Emperor to consent to a meeting with Joséphine, where, in his presence, they could have a final explanation. Napoleon agreed, and the conference was held that same evening.
The Emperor stated that the divorce was an absolute necessity for the stability of the Empire. Joséphine in turn said that this consideration should outweigh any others, and that she was ready to make this sacrifice for her country. Then she added, bursting into tears: “As soon as we are separated, my children will be forgotten. Make Eugène King of Italy.”
Eugène interrupted her with the indignant words: “No! I pray you, leave me out of the question. Your son does not wish for a crown, which would be the price of your separation. If you bow to the wishes of the Emperor, it is of you alone that he must think.” Napoleon was touched. “That is Eugène’s true heart,” he said. “He does well to trust to my affection.”
Friday, the 15 December 1809, was the day chosen by the Emperor for the dissolution of his civil marriage. The Family Council assembled at nine o’clock in the evening at the Tuileries in the salon of the Emperor, on the first floor, between the Throne Room and the Gallery of Diana. All the members of the family were present except Joseph, who was in Spain, Lucien, who was still in disgrace, and Élisa, who was expecting a child. But Madame Mère, Louis, Jérôme and his wife, Pauline, Caroline and her husband, Murat, were there, together with Eugène and his sister as representatives of the Beauharnais. Cambacérès, the arch-chancellor, and Regnault, secretary of state, were also present.
The palace was brilliantly illuminated, as on days of fête, and the whole Imperial family was in full Court dress. Joséphine wore a perfectly plain white robe, with no jewels. Although very pale, she seemed calmer than either Eugène or Hortense, who were much agitated. Around the room were arranged the seats for the members of the family, in due order of precedence: armchairs for the Emperor, Empress, and Madame Mère; chairs for the kings and queens; and stools for the others.
When all had taken their places, the Emperor arose, and began to read his address:
“The policy of my monarchy, the interests and the needs of my people, which have constantly guided my actions, demand that after myself, I leave to children, heirs of my love for my people, this throne upon which Providence has placed me. Nevertheless, for several years past, I have lost the hope of having children of my marriage with my well-loved spouse the Empress Joséphine. It is this which has led me to sacrifice the dearest affection of my heart, to listen only to the welfare of the State, and to desire the dissolution of our marriage.
“Arrived at the age of forty years, I can conceive the hope of living long enough to bring up in my spirit and my thought the children whom it may please Providence to give me. God knows how much such a resolution has cost my heart; but there is no sacrifice above my courage, when it is proved to me that it is for the benefit of France.”
The address of the Emperor had been carefully prepared and written out in advance, but departing now from the text he continued:
“Far from ever having had to complain, I can, on the contrary, only rejoice over the affection and tenderness of my well-loved spouse. She has graced fifteen years of my life, and the memory of this will remain ever stamped upon my heart. She was crowned by my hand; I desire that she shall keep the rank and title of crowned Empress, but above all that she shall never doubt my feelings, and that she shall have me always as her best and dearest friend.”
It was now the turn of Joséphine to speak. She also had modified the terms of the declaration prepared for her, which by its excess of adulation would have taken, from her lips, a tone of irony. The words which she used were well chosen, and apparently her own, as they were written in her clear hand upon her usual paper. Once more she had given proof of that tact which was one of her graces and her charms. But she had only read a few sentences when her voice became choked with tears, and she handed the paper to Regnault, who continued the discourse:
“With the permission of our august and dear spouse, I declare that, since I have no hope of bearing children, who can satisfy the requirements of his policy and the interests of France, it is my pleasure to give him the greatest proof of attachment and devotion which was ever given on earth. I owe all to his bounty; it was his hand which crowned me, and seated me on this throne. I have received nothing but proofs of affection and love from the French people. I am recognizing all this, I believe, in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which is now an obstacle to the welfare of France, and deprives her of the good fortune of being ruled one day by the descendants of a great man, plainly raised up by Providence, to remove the ill-effects of a terrible Revolution, and to set up again the altar, the throne, and the social order. But the dissolution of my marriage will make no change in the sentiments of my heart. The Emperor will always have in me his best friend. I know how much this act, which is made necessary by his policy and by such great interests, has wounded his heart; but we shall win glory, both of us, by the sacrifice which we have made in the interests of our country.”
Not only her children, Eugène and Hortense, but even the hostile Bonapartes, were moved by these eloquent and touching words. The meeting ended with the signature by each member of the Imperial family of the document prepared by Cambacérès. The Emperor then conducted Joséphine to her apartment, where he left her after a tender embrace.
But the night was not to end for Napoleon without one more painful scene. He had hardly retired when the door opened and Joséphine appeared. She threw herself into his arms, and Napoleon pressed her to his heart, saying: “Come, my good Joséphine, be more reasonable. Courage, courage, I shall always be thy friend.”
The following day Joséphine was to leave the Tuileries forever. After a sleepless night she was occupied from early morning with her preparations for departure. Her children were with her, but Eugène was obliged to leave her at eleven o’clock for the meeting of the Senate, where the decree was to be passed, annulling the imperial marriage. It was the first appearance of the Viceroy in his quality of senator. After taking his oath of office, he spoke in support of the resolution offered by Comte Regnault, saying: “I think that it is my duty, under the present circumstances, to make plain the sentiments by which my family is animated. My mother, my sister, and myself, we owe everything to the Emperor. To us he has been a real father. At all times he will find in us, devoted children, and submissive subjects. It is important for the welfare of France that the founder of this fourth dynasty shall grow old surrounded by direct heirs who shall be our guarantee, as a pledge of the country’s glory. When my mother was crowned before the whole nation by the hands of her august spouse, she contracted the obligation to sacrifice all her affections to the interests of France. She has filled this first of her duties with courage, nobility and dignity.”
Of the eighty-seven senators present, all but seven voted in favor of the decree, with four blank bulletins. Attention was called to the fact, often forgotten, that no less than thirteen of the predecessors of Napoleon upon the throne of France had been constrained to dissolve their marriage bonds, and among them four of the monarchs the most admired and loved by the people: Charlemagne, Philip-Augustus, Louis the Twelfth, and Henry the Fourth.
The first act of the program, the annulment of the civil marriage, had been carried out, and no obstacle had been encountered. All of the actors had filled their rôles better than any one could have expected. There remained the religious marriage to dissolve, a very necessary step if the Emperor were to espouse a Catholic princess.
While the chamber of the Senate was still echoing with the adulations of the address unanimously voted to her by the members, the Empress was leaving the Tuileries. It had been arranged that during the course of the day Joséphine should go to Malmaison, which in the future was to be her principal residence, while the Emperor was to depart for the Trianon. He was to leave first, at four o’clock in the afternoon. When his carriage was announced, he took his hat, called to his secretary, Méneval, to follow him, and rapidly descended the private staircase which led to the apartment of Joséphine in the rez-de-chaussée. On the entrance of the Emperor, Joséphine, who was awaiting him alone, threw herself into his arms, and Napoleon tenderly embraced her. Then she fainted, and Méneval rang for her attendants. As soon as Napoleon saw that she was recovering consciousness, to avoid a prolongation of the painful scene, he took his departure. Enjoining upon his secretary not to leave the Empress, he passed through the salons on the ground floor to the court, and entered his carriage which bore him away to Versailles.
When Joséphine perceived that the Emperor had left, she seized the hands of M. de Méneval, and exclaimed: “Tell the Emperor not to forget me. Assure him of my undying affection. Promise me to send me news of him as soon as you arrive at the Trianon, and see that he writes me.”
It was now the turn of Joséphine to leave. All the members of the palace household had gathered in the vestibule to salute the Empress as she departed. She was loved and regretted by all, and many eyes were filled with tears. To her they had always gone in their troubles, when there was a favor to ask, or a fault to be pardoned. There was not one who did not regard the good Empress as a guardian angel.
For the last time, Joséphine enters her carriage at the door of the Tuileries, and leaves this abode of ten years, where she has spent so many happy days, and also endured so many hours of anguish.
Cambacérès, who had the matter in charge, found great and unexpected difficulties in procuring the annulment of the religious marriage, and a whole month passed before the decree was published. The ground taken was that the Emperor had been constrained, that his consent had been neither voluntary nor free, and that under the circumstances the marriage was null and void. The facts could not be disputed, but matrimonial cases of sovereigns were by usage reserved for the Pope: it was before the Supreme Pontiff that the cases of Louis the Twelfth and Henry the Fourth had been taken. Now the domains of the Church had been annexed to the Empire, and Napoleon had been excommunicated by the Pope, who was at present his prisoner. Other means must therefore be sought for the dissolution of the marriage. The various steps are related in detail by M. Masson, to whom the curious reader is referred. Suffice it here to state that on the 14 January 1810 the Moniteur announced to France and to the entire world the rupture of the spiritual bond which united His Majesty the Emperor Napoleon and Her Majesty the Empress Joséphine.
For several weeks the divorce was naturally the one topic of discussion in Paris. Joséphine was an object of universal sympathy, and on descending from the throne, as if she were already dead, she was accorded all the virtues.
In the Army, the divorce was generally regretted. With the soldiers she had long been legendary, and many of the officers also attributed to her a beneficent effect upon the fortunes of Napoleon. When the hour of defeat sounded, during the terrible retreat from Moscow, more than one of the old grognards were heard to exclaim: “The Little Corporal should never have given up la vieille (the old woman); she brought good fortune to him and to us too.” It is doubtful if Joséphine would have been entirely pleased with this compliment if she had overheard it.
Beugnot, in his Mémoires, also speaks of the general belief that Joséphine brought good luck to her husband. “I repeated it, and I even almost believed it,” he writes, “that Joséphine was the good fortune of the Emperor, and consequently of France, and that if she were ever separated from her husband, she would carry that fortune with her.”
Joséphine, with her Creole tendency to superstition, probably believed it, and certainly tried to make Napoleon believe it. Later on, when overcome by reverses and betrayals, he was heard to say: “She was right: our separation has brought me misfortune.”