During the absence of Joséphine the interior of the château of Navarre had been restored as completely as possible, and refurnished in a simple manner, so that now it was quite habitable. It was still difficult to heat the immense oval salon, which occupied the centre of the building: it was paved with marble, and lighted only by windows in the vestibule, and openings pierced in the lofty dome above. But the architect had succeeded in arranging around this room a salon, a music-room and a card-room. A number of comfortable, if not very luxurious chambers had also been partitioned off, for the members of the household. By burning an immense quantity of wood and coal in the fireplaces, it was now possible to make the rooms fairly comfortable. Large sums had also been spent on the gardens and hothouses, and Navarre promised in time to become a second Malmaison.

The household was much more numerous than before: Joséphine had brought with her quite a number of young girls, as pretty as they were poor, who were supposed to possess some talents as musicians. The life at the château was nevertheless very monotonous. Joséphine remained in her room until eleven o’clock, at which hour the déjeuner was served punctually. After this meal, which lasted three-quarters of an hour, the young people had music in the salon, while the older persons played cards or chess. In the afternoon there were promenades through the gardens and park, or drives in the forest of Évreux. If the weather was unfavorable, the time was passed in reading the latest novels, of which a box was received every week from Paris. At four o’clock every one was free, and Joséphine went to her room, where she usually summoned one of her old intimates for a confidential chat.

At six o’clock dinner was served, and there were always some invited guests from the city: the prefect, the mayor, and, most frequently, the bishop, Mgr. Bourlier. There was only one table, and the service was very luxurious. After dinner, there was music, cards, and sometimes dancing. Joséphine was fond of games, and played cards, backgammon, and billiards equally well. The evening usually ended at eleven o’clock, when every one retired.

Joséphine, whose health had always been good, had never been so well; she no longer suffered from the frequent headaches, which were due mainly to the irregular hours of the Emperor. She began to grow stout and for the first time in her life was obliged to wear a corset, in place of the former brassières. Her only trouble was with her eyes, which her physician told her was due to her crying so much, “nevertheless,” she wrote her daughter, “for some time past I only weep occasionally.”

The first of the year Hortense finally arrived for her long-promised visit, but while Joséphine received her with transports of joy, it was not the same with the other members of the household. The Queen, with all her affectation of simplicity, was very rigorous on the point of etiquette, and insisted that her chamberlains should appear every evening in full uniform, and her ladies in décolleté gowns. Under the mild régime of Joséphine every one had become somewhat careless, and Court ceremonial had been more honored in the breach than the observance. Therefore Hortense was generally regarded as a killjoy.

It was quite different when Eugène came. He had always preserved his simple, boyish manners, and was only too glad to escape from the tiresome etiquette he was obliged to maintain at Milan. He entered heartily into the games and pastimes of the young people, and was a universal favorite. His trunks were full of presents, which he distributed with a lavish hand, and this was the only way in which he recalled the fact that he was a prince.

The day of Saint-Joseph fell in March, and on the eighteenth “all the personages of the city came in carriages to Navarre to salute the Empress and wish her a happy fête-day.” In the evening there was a celebration at the château, and Joséphine distributed presents. The following evening the Empress gave a ball in the grand salon, where a parquet floor had been laid for dancing, over the marble tiles.

On the 20 March, to continue the festivities, the mayor gave a dinner in honor of the Empress. She sent all the members of her household, but remained at home herself, as she was expecting news from Paris. In this way she missed the first notification of the great event. At the moment that the guests came out from dinner, at eight o’clock, a despatch was received from Paris announcing the birth of the King of Rome. Enthusiastic toasts were drunk, the bells were rung, and the cannon fired.

Joséphine, who was anxiously waiting at Navarre, heard the sound of the guns and the bells before the postmaster could reach her presence. He had been advised by the courier on his way to Cherbourg, had hastily donned his uniform, and rushed to the château. When he communicated the news to Joséphine he noticed at first a slight frown upon her face; then, recovering her usual gracious manner, she said: “The Emperor cannot doubt the lively interest that I take in an event which crowns his joy. He knows that I cannot separate myself from his destiny, and that his happiness will always make me happy.”

The following morning Eugène arrived at Navarre. The Emperor had had the delicate thought of sending him to tell Joséphine all the details of the happy event. She immediately sent her felicitations, and on the 22 March received from the Emperor the following letter, sent by one of his pages:

To the Empress Joséphine, at Navarre

By this tacit comparison of his son and Eugène the Emperor gave Joséphine the greatest consolation in his power; by this association of the two names, he practically assured her of the continuance of his protection and good-will.

In fact, although his letters had not been so frequent of late, Napoleon, when he wrote, had been as tender and as cordial as ever, even with a touch of humor. Thus, he had written her in reply to her New Year’s greetings: “They say that there are more women than men at Navarre.” In a later letter he said: “I am well; I hope to have a son: I will let you know at once.... When you see me, you will find that my regard for you has not changed.”

The Emperor was soon to give her a new proof of his kindness, in sending her permission to spend the springtime at Malmaison, which he knew would give her the greatest possible pleasure. The middle of April, therefore, we find her with Eugène at Malmaison, where she stayed during the whole month of May. This visit is passed over in silence by nearly all the biographers of Joséphine, who state that she remained at Navarre until the middle of September.

About this time Joséphine found herself once more in serious financial difficulties. In spite of the two millions she had received in 1811, she had debts to the amount of a million more, and no funds to complete her purchase of Prégny, to pay for the repairs at Navarre, and meet her current bills. She was compelled to apply to the Emperor, who wrote her the following letter:

To the Empress Joséphine

This letter, No. 227 in the Didot Collection, bears the date of 25 August 1813, but this is plainly an error. That year Napoleon left Paris the middle of April for the campaign in Saxony, and did not return until the 9 November. On the other hand, he was at the Trianon on the 25 August 1811, and that is undoubtedly the correct date.

After a careful inquiry into Joséphine’s affairs, the report made to the Emperor showed that her situation was even worse than he expected, and on the 4 November he sent word to her intendant that he had allowed an additional sum of a million francs for her dowry that year.

Two years later, on his return from the disastrous campaign of 1813, the Emperor sent at once for Mollien, the Minister of the Treasury, and, in place of many subjects far more important, he took up “the finances of the Empress Joséphine,” the economies which she could and should make. “She can no longer count upon me to pay her debts,” he said; “I no longer have the right to add anything to what I have done for her. The fate of her family must not rest only upon my head.” Then he added in a low tone, as if speaking to himself: Je suis mortel et plus qu’un autre.

When Mollien told him that Joséphine had shed tears in the course of an interview he had with her, Napoleon exclaimed: “But she must not be allowed to weep!”

Immediately after this conference with Mollien, Napoleon wrote Joséphine:

To the Empress Joséphine, at Malmaison

As Masson says, after recounting this incident: N’est-il pas toujours le même—et elle, toujours pareille!

One would think that this new financial crisis, coming after so many others, might have made Joséphine, at least for a time, more reasonable, but such was not the case. While she was at Malmaison she sent for her old architect, Fontaine, to consult him about her plans for Navarre. She wanted to remove the dome, and change the château into an Italian villa, with a flat roof, and a crown of balustrades.

A month later, she again sends for the architect. This time she has another plan: to construct at Malmaison a new château, with all the modern improvements. As this will be very costly, in order to provide the funds, “she begs Fontaine to propose to the Emperor, if he finds an opportunity, an exchange of the palace of the Élysée against its value in money.” This project did not displease Napoleon, who had often regretted his gift of the Élysée to Joséphine. There was no privacy at the Tuileries, and he had deprived himself of the only residence in Paris where he and his family could take a little exercise. Joséphine could not reside in the city, and for both of them it seemed an excellent arrangement. Napoleon was therefore inclined to welcome the proposal, but he did not care to add another million or two to the large sums he had already given the Empress. He accordingly made a counter-proposition: an exchange of the Élysée for the château of Laeken, a modern palace, richly furnished, and in perfect order, surrounded by a large park, and near an important city. He had purchased this property when First Consul, in April 1804, for about a million francs, and had subsequently spent another million in alterations and additions. The château was considered to be one of the finest of the imperial residences, and was always kept in perfect order, ready for immediate occupancy. By a decree under date of 10 February 1812 the Emperor authorized the exchange, but Joséphine never visited her new residence, even to take possession.

In September 1811 Joséphine returned to Malmaison for the winter. The Navarre party, as it was called, was now in a flourishing condition, and the Court of the Empress Joséphine fairly rivalled that of the Empress Marie-Louise.

In the spring of 1812 she had the pleasure of a short visit from Eugène, who had been summoned from Milan to receive the orders of the Emperor regarding the coming war with Russia. Augusta was expecting another baby the last of July, and Eugène persuaded his mother to make her long-deferred visit to Milan, to be present on that occasion.

In May she passed several days at Saint-Leu with Hortense and her children. But she did not venture to start for Italy without the permission of the Emperor. From Dantzig on the 8 June he wrote: “I hope that the waters will do you good, and I shall be glad to see you on my return”; but not a word about Italy. Finally, from Gubin on the 20 June he wrote: “I do not see anything in the way of your going to Milan, to be with the Vicereine. You had better go there incognito. You will find it very hot.”

This letter did not reach the Empress until the first of July, and then again her departure was deferred for two weeks by news of the illness of one of her grandchildren at Aix-la-Chapelle. As this did not prove serious, Joséphine finally set out on the 16 July, and reached Milan twelve days later. Her letter to Hortense is worth quoting:

To Queen Hortense, at Aix-la-Chapelle

Only three days after Joséphine’s arrival there was a fourth grandchild, the future Empress Amélie of Brazil. “Augusta,” writes Joséphine the same day, “is perfectly well, and her daughter is superb, full of strength and health.”

Before she had been at Milan a week, Joséphine was already uneasy, and anxious to leave for Aix-les-Bains. But she prolonged her stay for a month because Madame Mère and her brother, Cardinal Fesch, were at the waters, and she did not wish to meet them. At Aix she found Julie, “good and amiable as usual,” with her sister, the former Désirée Clary, who was now the wife of Bernadotte, the Prince-Royal of Sweden. After their departure, at the end of September, she went to her château of Prégny for a short stay. A few days after her arrival she writes to Hortense: “I regret that you are not here with me. The weather is very fine. The views of the lake and of Mont-Blanc are magnificent. It only lacks you at Prégny to appreciate with delight the full charm of a quiet life.”

On the 21 October her “quiet life” at Prégny came to an end, and Joséphine set out for Malmaison, leaving the good people of Geneva quite content with her departure, as “the kind of life which we have led since she is here does not agree with our habitudes.”