The last year that Joséphine was destined to wear the imperial crown was for her a period of constant anxiety. She knew that the divorce was inevitable, and that her days upon the throne were numbered. Before the fatal decree was passed, however, she had yet many trials to endure. From the date that the Emperor left for Erfurt to that eventful evening in December 1809, she saw but little of her husband, who was absent from France the greater part of the time.

Returning from Bayonne on the 14 August, the Emperor immediately began preparations on a large scale to put down the revolt in Spain and restore his brother to the throne. For the sake of his own prestige also it was necessary as soon as possible to repair the damage done by the capitulation of General Dupont. He had therefore decided to enter Spain himself at the head of the Grand Army, the invincible veterans of Austerlitz, Jena and Friedland. Before leaving for the Peninsula, however, he wished to feel certain that there would be no change in the political situation during his absence. Above all he wanted the assurance that his new ally, the Czar, was still as favorably disposed towards him as when they parted at Tilsit the previous year. He therefore suggested an interview, and Alexander accepted. The meeting took place at the little German city of Erfurt, and lasted from the 27 September to the 14 October. All of the allies of the Emperor were present: the kings of Bavaria, Würtemberg, Saxony and Westphalia; the Prince-Primate, and all the princes of the Confederation of the Rhine. The actors of the Comédie-Française, summoned from Paris, played before a “parterre of kings.”

To her great regret, Joséphine was not allowed to accompany the Emperor, and she divined that her divorce would be one of the subjects of discussion. In this she was not mistaken. The Czar had two sisters of a marriageable age: the grand duchesses Catherine and Anne, and Napoleon had thought of the elder as a possible wife. At one of their conferences the Emperor broached the subject by saying to Alexander:

“This life of agitation wearies me. I need rest, and look forward to nothing so much as the moment when without anxiety I can seek the joys of domestic life, which appeals to all my tastes. But this happiness is not for me. What domesticity is there without children? And can I have any? My wife is ten years older than myself. I must ask your pardon. It is perhaps ridiculous of me to tell you all this, but I am yielding to the impulse of my heart which finds pleasure in opening itself out to you.”

It is perhaps unnecessary to state that Napoleon was not yielding to the impulse of his heart, but to the calculations of his ambition, or the demands of his policy. He was broaching the subject, which he proposed to have followed up by Talleyrand, whom he had brought to Erfurt for that very purpose. He was about to commit these delicate negotiations to that wily diplomat, who had already made up his mind to betray him.

The evening of that same day the Emperor had a long conversation with Talleyrand, regarding the divorce. As reported by Talleyrand in his Mémoires, he said:

“My destiny requires it, and the tranquillity of France demands it. I have no successor. Joseph amounts to nothing, and he has only daughters. It is I who must found the dynasty, and I cannot do so without allying myself to a princess who belongs to one of the great ruling houses of Europe. The Emperor Alexander has sisters: one of them is of suitable age. Take the matter up with Romantzoff; tell him that as soon as this Spanish affair is settled, I will enter into all the Czar’s plans for the partition of Turkey. You will not lack for other arguments, for I know that you are a partisan of the divorce: the Empress Joséphine is also aware of the fact, I can inform you.”

Talleyrand said in reply that he thought it would be better for him to take the matter up directly with the Czar, instead of his minister, and Napoleon acquiesced. Talleyrand, who well knew the feelings of the mother of Alexander, instead of loyally furthering the plans of his master, suggested to the Czar a dilatory policy, which would thwart the plans of Napoleon, without arousing his resentment. The unprincipled minister embraced this opportunity to begin to weave the plot which was finally to bring about the fall of the man he had always secretly detested.

During his absence the Emperor sent Joséphine only three letters, all of them brief and insignificant. In the first, written two days after his arrival, he expressed his satisfaction with the Czar. In the second, ten days later, he says: “I have just hunted on the battle-field of Jena. We took breakfast on the spot where I passed the night at my bivouac. I attended a ball at Weimar. The Emperor Alexander dances; but I, no: forty years are forty years!” In his last letter, which bears no date, he again speaks of his satisfaction with Alexander, and says, “if the Czar were a woman I should be in love with him.”

In spite of his great genius Napoleon was the dupe of this young Emperor, who, he thought, was his friend. From this interview he gained nothing except a breathing spell during which he could proceed, without danger of immediate interruption, to regulate his affairs in Spain.

Between his return from Erfurt, and his departure for Spain, Napoleon spent only ten days with Joséphine at Saint-Cloud. During this time their relations were somewhat strained. The Emperor appeared embarrassed in the presence of his wife, as though he feared that, through some indiscretion, a report of his matrimonial projects might have reached her ears; and Joséphine, who both desired and feared to know the truth, did not venture to ask any questions. As usual, she wished to accompany the Emperor to the frontier, and it was almost by main force that he prevented her from entering the carriage which bore him away.

Leaving Saint-Cloud on the 29 October, the Emperor reached Bayonne on the 3 November; a month later he was at the gates of Madrid, and the city capitulated the following day. During the three weeks which he spent at the capital, Napoleon resided at a small country mansion, Chamartin, a few miles north of the city. He was constantly occupied with plans for the upbuilding of the country. He had reinstated his brother on the throne, and if there had been time for the new institutions to take root, Spain to-day would be a far more progressive country.

In the meantime, an English army under Sir John Moore had advanced on Burgos to cut the French line of communications, and on the 22 December the Emperor left Madrid with his Guard, to meet this new offensive. Moore learned of his danger in time and beat a hasty retreat. When he was at Astorga, on the first day of January 1809, Napoleon received a despatch from his old friend and aide de camp Lavalette, telling him of the intrigues of Talleyrand and Fouché with Murat and Caroline, and the armament of Austria. He turned over the pursuit of the English to Ney and Soult, and started for Valladolid. On the 17 January he set out for Paris, covering the distance of thirty leagues from Valladolid to Burgos in the remarkable time of six hours, upon his own horses, arranged in six relays. The following day he left this country, which he alone could have conquered, which he never was to see again, and which was destined to ruin his Empire. At eight o’clock on the morning of the 23 January he was back in the Tuileries.

During his absence of twelve weeks Napoleon sent Joséphine fourteen letters, some of them brief and insignificant. The first five, from Marrac, Tolosa, Vittoria, Burgos, and Arranda, tell only of his progress, and the state of his health. After this, his letters are longer and more interesting.

To the Empress, at Paris

On the afternoon of the 23 January, the day of his return to Paris, all of the ministers and grand officers of the State called at the Tuileries to pay their homage to the Emperor. In the presence of this distinguished assembly, Napoleon severely rebuked Talleyrand and Fouché for the disgraceful intrigue which they had carried on during his absence. This reproof was not the cause of their hostility to the Emperor, as often stated, but it was the signal for the secret war which they levied against him from that time on.

During the Campaign of Poland, in 1807, and again during the absence of the Emperor in Spain, the following year, the possibility of his death, and its effect on the dynasty, were seriously discussed at Paris. There were well-founded rumors of a project to place Murat on the throne, in case anything happened to Napoleon. Fouché and Talleyrand were in the plot, and the warmest advocate, if not the real instigator of the plan, was Napoleon’s ambitious sister Caroline.

In this connection there is a record in the Journal of Stanislas Girardin of a conversation which he had with Joséphine on the last day of February 1809, after his return from Spain. The Empress said to him:

“While you were in Spain there were some curious rapprochements; irreconcilable enemies [Fouché and Talleyrand] have suddenly become reconciled; men who never saw each other have been seen together frequently.... This clique is powerful, and braves us; Fouché is its soul.

“When Murat was given the throne of Naples, all the journals under the control of the police sang his praises.... Fouché said openly that Murat was the only successor of the Emperor, the only one who could inspire Europe with fear, and the only one who enjoyed the confidence of the Army. He wrote a letter to the Emperor in which he stated positively that France did not want any of his brothers as a successor. Fortunately the eyes of Bonaparte are opened since his return. The letter of which I speak is in existence: it is in the hands of Méneval [the Emperor’s secretary].”

In spite of the assertions of Lanfrey and other historians, there is little doubt of the existence of this plot, but the Austrian menace probably had more weight in determining the Emperor to return from Spain. Austria thought that the moment was opportune to attempt to recover her lost possessions. The Archduke Charles, who was in command of the army, had made a supreme effort to raise a force capable of meeting Napoleon, and he had done his work well.

Late on the 12 April Napoleon was informed by a semaphore message that the Austrian army had crossed the Inn and invaded the territory of his ally the King of Bavaria. At daybreak the next morning, accompanied by Joséphine, he started for Strasbourg, where he arrived in forty-eight hours. He left the Empress there and immediately crossed the Rhine.

During the following week, in one of the most brilliant operations of his career, the Emperor won two decisive victories, and completely crushed the Austrian offensive. Eighteen days later he was once more quartered in the palace of Schœnbrunn at Vienna.

On the 23 April, before Ratisbon, Napoleon was slightly wounded by a spent bullet which struck him in the right heel. This is the only wound he is ever known to have received, except a bayonet thrust in the thigh at the siege of Toulon; but at the time of the autopsy, after his death at Saint Helena, several scars were found on his body. This seems to prove that he was hit on other occasions, but was successful in concealing the fact.

Joséphine remained for several weeks at Strasbourg, where she was visited by Hortense and her sons, by the Queen of Westphalia and the Grand Duchess of Baden.

The story of the campaign is told in several brief letters from the Emperor:

To the Empress, at Strasbourg

It would be impossible for any one reading the last two letters to imagine that they were written a week after the terrible two-days’ battle of Aspern-Essling, in which Napoleon received one of the worst reverses in his career. In his next letter he alludes to a visit of Hortense and her sons, without his permission, to the baths of Baden; and also to the death of his old companion-in-arms, Lannes, who was mortally wounded just at the end of the battle of Essling.

To the Empress, at Strasbourg

Early in June, Hortense left her mother to go to the baths in the Pyrenees, and Joséphine went to Plombières. Here she received the news of the great victory of Wagram, and of the armistice of Znaïm. On the 13 July the Emperor was again back at Vienna, where he remained until the final peace was signed on the 14 October. It is rather remarkable to note that, although he had Madame Walewska with him, his brief letters are more tender than for several years. In one he says: “Good-bye, mon amie, you know my feelings for Joséphine: they are unchangeable.” Two letters written from Vienna in August, and one in September, are even more notable. At this time Joséphine had gone from Plombières to Malmaison. “I have heard,” he writes on the 26 August, “that you are fat, fresh, and looking very well. I assure you that Vienna is not an amusing town. I should much like to be back again in Paris.” Five days later he says: “I have received no letters from you for several days. The pleasures of Malmaison, the beautiful hothouses, the fine gardens, cause the absent to be forgotten. That is the way with you all, they say.” Finally, on the 25 September: “I have your letter. Do not be too sure. I warn you to look after yourself well at night; for one of these early ones you will hear a great noise!”

From Munich on the 21 and 22 October 1809, the Emperor sent Joséphine the last letters he wrote during the Campaign of Wagram, the last also which she was to receive from him before the divorce.

To the Empress, at Malmaison