JV-Jat rrlliNc ENQf<. \V. H. R1TCH1H ILLUSTRATED Memoirs of 'The Empress Josephine In Two Volumes Volume One Paris SOCIETE DES BIBLIOPHILES London and New York MERRILL 4ND B4KER This Edition Magnifique of the Courtiers anb Jfabouritesf of fcopaltp is limited to fifty-two numbered and registered sets •"> / Dumber •-', . L. — S' HISTORICAL AND SECRET MEMOIRS OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE JOSEPHINE TASCHER DE LA PAGERIE, the daughter of an American woman and a Frenchman living in Martinique, was born at Trois Islets there, June 23, 1763. Who at that time could have foreseen that she was destined to play a great role in the history of France, and would occupy the first rank among the women of her fatherland? An old negress, it is true, predicts to her when she is a child that she will be twice married, that her first marriage will be unfortunate, and that she will die Queen of France. But these are predictions to which only simplicity attaches credence. At fifteen, Josephine leaves the convent at which she has been educated. She betakes herself to France, and Madame Renaudin, her aunt, marries her in 1779 to a clever and dashing officer of twenty, Viscount Alexandre de Beauharnais. This union starts off ill. A thorough man of the world, the brisk and light-minded officer does not understand that his young wife, abruptly transplanted to* the midst of Parisian upper society, feels rather an exile there. He considers her an insignificant person, neglects her, and leaves her to stay with the two children born to them : a son, who is to be Prince Eugene, and a daughter, Hortense, who is to be queen. Called to America by business, the viscount in 1788 sets out alone for Martinique. During his absence, Josephine fol- lows the excellent counsels of Madame de Montesson and the Countess Fanny de Beauharnais. She is assiduous at drawing- rooms. She learns her apprenticeship to society so well, that on her husband's return he accuses her of infidelity, and brings THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE against her before the Parliament of Paris an absurd lawsuit for separation of bodies, a suit which he loses. An amicable separation nevertheless takes place between the two consorts, who during four years live far apart from each other. Josephine has even been back for two years with her family in Martinique, when Alexandre de Beauharnais induces her, in consequence of numerous and urgent steps, to return and take up once more their life in common. Meanwhile, great events have been enacted. When Jose- phine reenters, in 1791, her old house in the rue de 1'Univer- site, the Revolution has changed many things. The viscount himself has become deputy to the Constituent Assembly. He there pronounces energetically for the suppression of privileges, the equality of punishments, and the admissibility of all citizens to all employments. He is one of the conspicuous person- ages ; his salon is much frequented, and Josephine's grace quickly augments the attraction and the fame of her receptions. But the frontiers are being assailed. Alexandre de Beau- harnais resumes service as an officer ; he distinguishes himself so well against the enemy that in no long time he receives the chief command of the Army of the Rhine. He is occupying this high position ' when there appears, in 1793, the decree which dismisses the nobility from all military employ. He immediately resigns, and retires to his estates. He does not long remain there, for, denounced as a suspect, he is arrested and dragged before the Revolutionary tribunal, where he is accused of having, by a fortnight's inaction, contributed to the surrender of Mayence. De Beauharnais, condemned to death, is executed on the 5th Thermidor. Like so many others, Josephine herself has become suspect. Shut up in the prison at Carmes, she meets there Therezia Cabarrus, the beautiful mistress of Tallien ; she forms an inti- mate connection with her; and when, after Robespierre's THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE death on the pth Thermidor, she recovers liberty, that firm friendship aids her greatly in obtaining restitution of her con- fiscated property. Josephine is then protected by Barras, of whom she is accused without proof of having been the mistress. She is urged by him to marry Bonaparte, whose acquaintance she has made, and who is enticed by her beauty, her grace, and her sweetness. The handsome widow, already thirty-three, is at first reluctant enough over this projected union. Nevertheless, after mature reflection, and vanquished by the impetuous pas- sion which Bonaparte evinces for her, she yields to the urgency of her friends, and decides to marry " the Corsican with the flat locks." The civil marriage is celebrated March 9, 1796. Two days later, Bonaparte, named general-in-chief of the Army of Italy, goes to rejoin his troops, with whom he soon gains, blow on blow, victories on victories. At the news of his success, Josephine hastens to Italy ; she speeds as far as Milan to rejoin the conqueror of Lodi, whom she wishes to follow even to his headquarters. But having barely escaped capture by the Austrian troops, she finds herself compelled with much hardship to return to Lombardy. After the preliminaries of Leoben, we again find her near Milan, at the chateau of Montebello,* where she gives royal receptions while waiting for the peace of Campo Formio to permit the general to return to Paris. The sojourn of Josephine and Bonaparte in the capital is short. The general receives the order to set out for Egypt; and as he refuses to take his wife with him, Josephine retires to Malmaison, at the fine estate she has just bought in the neigh- bourhood of Paris and Versailles. From this moment Malmaison becomes the rendezvous of the celebrities of France. Beneath the shade of her fine trees, Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, Joseph Che"nier, Arnault, Legouve1 THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE Talma, Collin d'Harleville, Volney, Me"hul, Gerard, Lesueur, Girodet, and many others yet, present their homages to the fair proprietress, and constitute around her a veritable court, which recalls the ancient memories of Trianon of illustrious name. And what shall we say of those Thursday receptions which a Pleiad of handsome women illumine with their beauty ; where, beside Hortense de Beauharnais, one admires Mes- dames Tallien, Caffarelli, Damas, and Andreossi, and the Count- esses de Beauharnais, d'Houdetot, etc.? So when Bonaparte returns from Egypt, there is a fully organized party there on which it suffices to lean for success in his coup d'etat of the 1 8th Brumaire. The epoch of the sojourn at Malmaison is perhaps for Jose- phine that in which her life is happiest and most brilliant. Soon, alas ! begins the era of disillusions and griefs. Bona- parte is already abandoning himself to fleeting amours ; already he is reproaching his wife with barrenness ; already, urged by his family, he is pronouncing the word divorce. Josephine, nevertheless, still succeeds in retaining for some time her inconstant spouse. More yet, she secures consecration and coronation as Empress by Pope Pius VII., at the same time as the Emperor (Dec. 2, 1804). What a triumph for her the day when Napoleon's sisters, her sworn foes, are obliged to hold up the skirts of her cloak during the official ceremonies ! How her maternal heart must also have rejoiced when Prince Eugene, appointed Viceroy of Italy, marries the daughter of the King of Bavaria (1805-6), and when her daughter Hor- tense becomes Queen of Holland (1806) ! But also what sad awakenings. Heedless, adored by all who approach her, lavish to such a degree that the Emperor gives severe orders to restrain the inconsiderate expenses which are involving her in debt, she lives in the midst of continual fetes- She is abruptly over- THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE whelmed by misfortune ; for Bonaparte suddenly gives her to understand that, having decided to found a dynasty, he is going to divorce her. The unfortunate Empress weeps ; she sheds bitter tears, but those tears in which her august consort " found an . incomparable charm " remain this time without effect. Cold reasons of state triumph, and the divorce is pronounced Dec. 16, 1809. Josephine abandons the imperial bed to Maria Louisa, Archduchess of Austria. She nevertheless preserves her title of Empress, and dowered with an income of two millions, she first retires to Navarre, near Evreux, then settles herself on her property at Malmaison, where she distracts her grief by occupy- ing herself with botany and the fine arts. Despite everything, Napoleon retains the most affectionate sentiments for her ; he often writes to her, sometimes pays a visit to Malmaison, and in 1812 brings her his son, the King of Rome, whom she kisses, weeping. Existence already seems very dull to her; nevertheless, Josephine has still not emptied the cup of unhappiness, and she is to drink it to the last drop. To the moral sufferings of the rejected wife are now added the tortures that rend the heart of the Frenchwoman. The beauteous days of glory are flown ; wearied fortune betrays her forrrrer favourite. Napoleon is conquered ; the Allies have invaded France, they occupy Paris. And while the conqueror gains the Isle of Elba, where they send him into confinement, Josephine receives at Malmai- son the visit of foreign sovereigns. It is on the occasion of the Emperor Alexander's visit which assures her his protection, that she gives the grand fete where she contracts the throat complaint of which she dies, after a few days' illness, May 29, 1814. LJ&ON VALL£E. DEDICATORY LETTER To His MAJESTY ALEXANDER, EMPEROR OF ALL THH RUSSIAS, KING OF POLAND. SIRE, — Your Majesty, wholly occupied in promoting the happiness of your subjects, daily adds to your fame the glory which is reflected by enlightened princes who deign to. protect literature and the arts; but the trump of fame will never cease to repeat — future generations will learn with surprise and admiration — the fact that Your Majesty, anxious to establish, in a durable manner, the happiness of nations, tore himself from a people by whom he was adored, to achieve the overthrow and humiliation of that celebrated man who had reached the summit of power, and established his empire on the ruins of republican factions. How did he reach that elevation? What did he do to attain so much greatness ? Surely he was gifted with an active, energetic mind, a capacity for great things. He was not among the murderers of his King; and yet the blood of the virtuous Louis XVI. was the original cement of the throne of the modern Gengis-Khan. For years had France stood in need of a master. Her citizens were depressed and discouraged. Napoleon, environed with military glory, appeared ; he astonished all ; and the different parties which, in 1814, united to overthrow him, then all concurred in the estab- lishment of his power. The dark policy of Bonaparte knew no arbiter but the Vlll DEDICATORY LETTER sword. Strength enabled him to overcome virtue ; and justice, often down -trodden, disappeared beneath the con- queror's steel. Precious monuments and museums attested the con- queror's taste for magnificence and luxury, enriched as he was by the spoils of Europe ; but the giant who sought to rule the whole world was not even master of his own will. A slave to the caprices of his flatterers, he often fell into their snares without perceiving them. At a time when fortune seemed to favour Napoleon, while he still thought himself happy and successful, unforeseen reverses overtook him, and extinguished, by degrees, the brightness of his glory. He surely might have displayed more courage in adversity ; but he was not endowed with that constancy which characterises and forms a hero. His movements were out of the ordinary line ; they were by turns brilliant, obscure, bold, pusillanimous, changeful, incomprehensible. The future alone will show the true cause which impelled him, and the real object he wished to attain. Your Majesty has presented to the world a sublime spectacle of kindness and generosity. When your enemy's vessel was under full sail you deigned to warn him of the hidden rocks which lay in his course; and when he had hurled himself into the abyss, you stretched forth a help- ing hand to the people of France. Master of their capital, you saved it, actuated by the interests with which a brave and unhappy people inspired you. The illustrious grand- son of the immortal Catherine wore upon our ramparts the loops of Minerva only to protect our arts, our workshops, our academies, and to diffuse around him sentiments of joy and admiration. From age to age will our contempo- raries and our posterity recall those memorable events. Men will never forget the august and generous Alex- ander deigned to visit the forsaken wife of Bonaparte, and that, in honouring her with his presence, he proved how much and how sincerely he admired her, not only DEDICATORY LETTER e for the good she had done, but the evil she had prevented in the country which was her home. Such evidences of Your Majesty's especial kindness were a healing balm to the wounds of her afflicted heart ; they soothed the last troubled moments of her life; and when she left this world — a world in which she had nothing more to expect or to hope — she had, at least, the consolation of carrying with her, into the tomb, the consciousness of having relieved misfortune ; and also that other conscious- ness, still dearer to every feeling heart — as she herself said with her dying breath — of never having caused a tear to flow. The Secret Memoirs of her life, which I am about to publish, were, in a great measure, prepared by herself, and this is the reason which has determined me to place them under the special protection of Your Majesty. I have presumed to dedicate them, less to the Sovereign of all the Russias, than to that enlightened man who needs not the radiance of a throne to add to the splendour of his cha- racter; it is to the philosophic hero who, after having turnished to kings examples of true policy, and to warriors high evidences of attainment in their art, might dictate, even to the best writers, lessons of true taste and refinement. Permit me to hope that the work which I have the honour to present to you, may make its appearance under the auspices and patronage of the greatest of Sovereigns. But, Sire, however you may regard this request, you have here before you the historical collection which Josephine undertook. She consecrated it to France, and I lay this homage at the feet of Your Majesty. Although the different epochs in the private and public life of the first wife of Bonaparte may appear like detached sketches, yet it will be found that they are so connected together by a succession of events, prepared by an inscrutable Provi- dence, as to be all founded, so to speak, one upon another. Allow me to hope, Sire, that you will find the moral of the work at once touching, consoling, religious, and eminently philosophical. VOL. I b X DEDICATORY LETTER Prince ! born to promote the happiness of nations, Destiny, which sometimes seems to conceal, in obscurity, those bright geniuses whose labours contribute to illustrate the reign of princes, has reserved a particular glory for that of Your Majesty ! Awake ! shade of Josephine, awake from the sleep of the tomb. Now, more than ever, do I stand in need of thine aid ! How shall I, without thee, call to mind all the great deeds which do honour to Alexander, and transmit his virtues and his fame to an impartial pos- terity ? Oh, for the genius of the immortal Maro ! — then would I, like him, sing your praises " at dawn and dewy eve."1 But there is no force nor richness of style that will suffice to paint, I will not say with brilliancy but with fidelity, the great actions which you have performed. Yet I may be permitted to say, without offence to Your Majesty, that the glory of those actions does not eclipse that which you have acquired by protecting and defending the rights of a nation as warlike as France, intoxicated by great successes, yet fortunate, indeed, and proud to acknowledge the fact that to you they are indebted for the olive branch of peace, and the preservation of their rich and vast territory. Seated upon a throne where the world with admiration beholds you, the fires of your genius will enlighten and electrify your subjects ; for 'tis by the examples of heroes that great men are formed. The arts that you have trans- planted into your empire will one day form the principal basis of the prosperity of your estates, and become the cause of that veneration which gratitude will engrave upon all hearts, to the memory of so enlightened and benevolent a Prince. The sons of fame shall astonish the future with the story of your great deeds, and delight to extol the glorious actions which have already signalised your reign, and those which are yet to give it additional lustre. They will say, " His country boasted of his clemency, the grace- i Te veniente die, te descendente canebat. — Georgics, lib. iv. DEDICATORY LETTER XI fulness of his manners, the wisdom of his counsels. She will for ever celebrate his triumphs, and the innumerable blessings he has lavished upon her." The voice of poetry shall proclaim to the world that, under his reign, the people enjoyed a wise and just liberty, and that by his munificence, the germs of talent and art are daily de- veloping themselves throughout the vast Empire of all the Russias. Condescend, great Prince, to receive benignly my sin- cere homage, and the assurance of the profound respect with which I am, Your Majesty's most humble and most obedient servant, LENORMAND. [Reply to the foregoing."] [Letter addressed to Mademoiselle Lenormand, by order of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Alexander.] His Imperial Majesty having been made acquainted with the letter which you have addressed to him, has charged me to testify to you, Mademoiselle, his thanks for the work you have sent him ; he accepts with pleasure the dedication of the " Historical Memoirs of the Empress Josephine," and presents to you, as a souvenir, a ring enriched with diamonds. In fulfilling his orders by these presents, I hasten to thank you for the copy of your works which you have sent me, and to express to you my high respects. (Signed) LE PRINCE VAL.KOUSKY. (1336. Aix-la-Chapelle, the 6th— i8th Oct., 1818. To Mademoiselle Leaormand.) 6—2 PREFACE I AM about to recount to Frenchmen the principal events in the life of Josephine. Perhaps, alas ! I attempt a task beyond my strength ; but what mortal so well Knows himself as not to undertake too much ? Yet I shall not have to reproach myself with having omitted any effort to merit the approbation of the people she loved. Should I not attain it, I shall be doubly afflicted ; for, in whatever I say, I aim only to speak the truth, not solely for the honour of speaking it, but because truth is useful to men. If I sometimes happen to wander from it I shall find in my errors some consoling motives. For the rest, if I have deceived myself, and if any of my principles be not conformable to the general interest, it will be an error of the head, but not of the heart ; and I declare in advance that I disavow them. It is pleasant to read a good book ; but it is not so very easy to write one. The first condition, and the one which is the most rarely observed, is unity of object and interest ; the second, and which must be reconciled with the first, is to describe events well, and to seize the different shades of each picture. I ask only one favour of the reader, and that is, to understand before he con- demns me, to follow out the chain of my ideas — to be my judge, and not my accuser. This request is not the effect of a rash confidence. Some of my maxims may seem adventurous. Should certain critics believe them false, I beg them to consider, while they condemn them, that the most useful discoveries PREFACE Xlll are often due only to the boldness of endeavour, and that the fear of advancing an error ought not to deter us from prosecuting our search after truth. In vain do weak and cowardly men seek to proscribe truth by giving to it the odious name of licence ; for such is human frailty, that there is no truth which may not become dangerous. Yet, woe to the man who shall, on that account, deprive man- kind of it ! I repeat, the moment the investigation of certain truths shall be interdicted in France, it will not be permitted to utter truths of any kind. Unhappily, there are some men indefatigable in their ambition, who will never give over ; who persist in believing that truth can never make itself heard, and that courage in a his- torian does not suffice to make him respected. How many powerful persons were there who figured at Napoleon's Court, and who, under the idea that it is sometimes wise to conceal the truth, wished to banish it from the earth ! But I intend to strip off the veil which conceals those crafty politicians ; I will paint the ancient courtiers, who — " 'Neath Caesar's eye, composed their face to smiles." Among the qualities of the heart, according to my ideas, that which will always most challenge our admira- tion, is that elevation of soul which scorns to tell a lie ; errors cease to be dangerous while it is permitted to com- bat them. Discussion exposes them, and they soon fall into the depths of oblivion, while truth alone remains supernatant upon the vast surface of ages. When one is about to design plans for building, he does not content himself with an examination of the house which he inhabits ; he goes abroad and views the winding walks of some smiling and fertile garden, which furnish the leading ideas — or wanders forth amid romantic scenery. He creates around him the most novel and varied prospects. Thus, when we open a book on morals, or set about sketching history, we must XlV PREFACE leave the narrow circle of our previous ideas and place ourselves in a point of view where we may survey the whole range of events and of human passions. The " Memoirs of Josephine " cannot, I am persuaded, fail to present to the mind of the reader reflections which are new and interesting, and to furnish aid in the study of the human heart. They will renew the memory of the first wife of the most astonishing man of his age. A new world will be opened to those who shall deign to peruse them. I see the tears fall from their eyes, and their souls catch new inspiration, as they peruse the important events I am about to narrate. I pity those who, more severe than posterity can with justice be, shall dare blacken the public life of a woman who, by a freak of Fortune's wheel, that never ceases its revolutions, was borne upwards to one of the mightiest thrones in the universe. Bonaparte pre- tended not to be subject to the opinions of men. Alas ! his interest and ambition destroyed in a moment the charm of his existence and sundered the bonds which united him to Josephine. Is it possible that his courtiers could have succeeded in their guilty projects had he possessed the courage to withdraw from their influence ? At that epoch every obstacle vanished beneath his tread ; he thought himself able to oppose a serene brow to the storm, and brave in their turn both men and destiny. Josephine's love for that remarkable man, her too blind confidence in the means he possessed, finally induced her to applaud his designs. But never did she share that boundless power whose weight hung so heavily upon an unhappy people. Permit me to describe Josephine such as she presented herself to my imagination ; that is, at the age when, still young, she lost her first husband. There was an ex- pression of sadness about her countenance, giving her an appearance of melancholy. Her mind was filled with recollections of the past; she knew perfectly the part PREFACE XV she had acted, but was then ignorant of what she was one day to perform. Her bearing was noble, her stature majestic ; she was nevertheless kind and compassionate, enamoured of glory, which she hoped to espouse — if I may be allowed the ex- pression— in the person of the man who was to engage her affections. With pleasure shall I describe her maternal love, the heroic courage which she displayed at the period of her divorce. I shall relate the most secret events of her life. I shall speak of the enthusiasm of that admirable woman for whatever bore an impress of the sublime ; of her husband's crooked policy, and of her respect for certain illustrious but unfortunate persons. Josephine had a kind of towering pride in her composi- tion. The love of the beautiful exalted her soul, and whatever was noble and generous was sure to obtain her favour. She possessed, moreover, but without any show, the art of captivating hearts. By means of her goodness, and the graciousness of her demeanour, she conciliated even the enemies of her second husband. Instead of leaving him upon a throne, surrounded by abysses, in which sleepless crime kept watch in the hope of dragging him into the depths, she gained him friends and parti- sans, who became his firmest supporters. I shall also enquire whether it was a subject of reproach for Bonaparte to have forgotten the debt of gratitude he owed to Josephine. 'Tis the ordinary effect of ambition to destroy the natural sentiments of the heart, and to hide them beneath a veil of black ingratitude. Soon, too soon, did he realise the dream which it was his duty to banish from his mind : he chose a new companion. Unhappy Maria Louisa ! Thine august father, to ensure the tranquillity of his empire, consented to give to his daughter a master as he had given one to himself, by associating Napoleon in the empire of the world. XVi PREFACE Josephine witnessed the triumph of her rival, without making the slightest attempt to disturb her repose. The loss of her husband was sufficient of itself to render her insensible to whatever passed around her. Nothing but great passions produce extreme suffering and lasting sorrow. She remained several days buried in profound meditation ; but to the recollections of the heart, which seemed to overcome her, she joined the noblest fortitude, the most patient resignation. A new Ariadne, she seemed to forget the perfidious Theseus who had abandoned her. And yet she uttered in secret her prayers for a husband who was perjured to his vows. Alone at Malmaison, Josephine no longer took notice of the agitating factions of the times, nor the increasing popular disturbances ; she heard not the long-stifled groans of the people, nor the preparations of the nations for the tumult of arms. Afar from the frightful spectacle of so many evils, and the appalling arrangements to remedy them ; far from the headlong and criminal manoeuvres by which her husband's political system devoted men to mutual destruction, and opposed fury to fury, her heart, wholly consecrated to doing good, preferred the silent, but instructive, communion of the children of Nature to the society of courtiers, who thronged in multitudes around her. She might have been seen breathing, in its voluptuous freshness, the morning ahr in the poplar's silent shade, round which the rose and the honeysuckle entwined themselves, hanging like rich crowns above her head. Here, with pencil in hand, she would sketch the various pictures which Nature unfolded to her view. Her imagi- nation would speed its flight towards that happy isle, the witness of the bright days of her childhood — days the memory of which she loved to cherish. Here her heart melted with tenderness ; here she poured forth her tears as she reflected upon the past. And yet, even here, she began to enjoy a momentary felicity. For fifteen years she was thought to be the happiest of women ; she seemed PREFACE XVli seated for ever upon the car of Fortune ; and yet a day, a single day, had already sufficed to scatter all those seduc- tive illusions. Thus, alas ! the years roll on. Although she must have felt the necessity of banishing all memory of her irreparable loss, she, nevertheless, at times, grasped an enchanted cup, from which she drew long draughts of nectar ; still was she sensible to the pleasure of being loved, and was ravished with delight when she heard, confidentially, that the new spouse of Bonaparte appeared not to occupy in his heart the same place as herself. During her moments of leisure at Malmaison, she sketched the different events of her life ; she preserved the most secret particulars of her husband's reign, and destined those precious manuscripts for posterity. I will fulfil her most cherished vow. With such materials I am permitted to undertake this interesting work. Would that, for its execution, I held the insinuating, persuasive pen of the immortal author of " Malthide." But, though unsustained by such advantages, I shall offer, at least, to my readers several chapters written entirely by Josephine's own hand; and, as a complement to the work, they will, I trust, content themselves with the curious notes which she deposited in my hands. O ye who are still plucking the flowers of youth — noble Eugene, kind-hearted Hortense — ye whose minds are still surrounded by the dark clouds which conceal your future lot ; ye who, to heroic sentiments, unite the celestial enthusiasm of private virtue; may the ex- ample of your illustrious mother lead you ever to sustain becomingly the reverses of fortune, and make you sensible of this important truth, that, without the resources of genius and sentiment, a man is poor in the midst of treasures, and alone in the midst of society ! Permit me, children of Josephine — permit me, at least, to present to posterity the history of her life; permit me to display the picture of her heart, and the annals of the XV111 PREFACE times in which she lived. To men I will resign the perilous career of politics; but I will not suffer certain authors with impunity to sharpen the dart of satire against the memory of a woman whom they ought to adore. I shall endeavour to avoid the shoals which surround me on every side. Too just to be influenced by fear, I shall invoke the testimony of those who, like myself, knew how to appreciate her understanding, the charms of her conversation, and the pleasures of her society. My principal object is, not only to awaken in- teresting reflections in the minds of Frenchmen, but, like her, to inspire them with the love of whatever is great, noble and generous. And let those who, following in the footsteps of her husband, dare still to entertain the luck- less and fatal ambition of reigning over a divided people, learn from her what are the hidden rocks among which they sail. I shall likewise enter into some details connected with the too famous affair of her divorce. As I am afraid to have my readers misled by false conjectures, and as they may not, from a want of proper investigation, be able to unravel a mystery which is covered with an impenetrable veil, I have endeavoured to shed some light upon that in- teresting but distressing portion of her life. In doing this I may present the cup of consolation to wives who, like her, have experienced those fearful dreams which leave nothing behind but long despair, their last and only prospect for the future. I think that even envy will hardly impute to me a dis- position to wound the feelings of anyone who has had relations with Josephine. In these her Secret Memoirs, she considers no man in his individual character, but treats of men and nations in general. This should shelter her from the attacks of malignity. It will be perceived, in reading the work, that she loves the French, and desires their happiness, without hatred or contempt towards any of them in particular. PREFACE XIX Josephine was deeply affected by the innumerable chronicles which obtained circulation in France, after her husband's downfall. " I have seen," said she, " the hateful mask beneath which envy delights to hide itself. I have seen the infamous veil with which hate sought to cover itself ; and I have thought it my duty to rend them away. " Though I may be accused of seeking to justify the man whom all Europe at present condemns, I shall not, at least, be suspected of having, like many others, admired his errors, and endeavoured to encourage him in the dark road of his political system. When I possessed his confidence, I never ceased to urge him to follow the primary impulses of his heart — a heart which often, often dreamed of the happiness of France, which he had so many means to secure. Flatterers precipitated him into a volcano, and those same men will, perhaps, hereafter draw other princes into the same abyss. Traitors only change masks ; they adopt all colours without distinction. They will, undoubtedly, yet be exposed in the face of the v/orld, but it will be too late for the security of France. In vain," said Josephine, " should I seek to conceal from posterity the names of those cowardly beings who have changed with my fortune, and whose culpable indifference I here arraign, though with a feeling of moderation and generosity. I know I have had some ungrateful friends, whose open abandonment of me has inflicted deep wounds upon my heart. I could wish to have my afflictions understood, but I am afraid to fix an eternal stain upon certain names which I am anxious to shield from opprobrium ; nor will I stoop to environ even with the celebrity of disgrace certain wretches in the shape of men, envious of my spoils, or of the feeble portion of power I ever retained over the mind of Bonaparte. There were some of those cowards who, at tne time of my repu- diation, had the audacity to demand my exile into Italy; others, equally hypocritical, but more cruel, thronged to Malmaison, and insulted the victim ; they rejoiced to see the dagger already rankling in a wounded heart, and praised xx PREFACE the hand which had placed it there, treating my misfortune as a crime, and his abuse of power as the chastisement of the Deity ! " Whoever, in fine, shall follow out all the circumstances of the life of Josephine while the wife of Napoleon, will discover that her character evinced enough of firmness and energy to merit the attention of the historian and the love of the French people ; and this is surely a sufficient recom- pense for her having sat upon a usurped throne. This work will justify its title of " Historical and Secret Memoirs." Though the embellishments belong to the author, the characters and events belong to histojry. JOSEPHINE TO HER CHILDREN MY DEAR CHILDREN, — I myself have taken care of your education ; I have taught you to scorn alike pain and riches ; to stand less in fear of torture, nay, of death itself, than of the reproaches of conscience. I have pointed out to you the means of shunning luxury, especially the cor- rupting pleasures; to exercise courage in misfortune, and to regard injustice, falsehood, ingratitude, cowardice, and effeminacy, as disgraceful and despicable. I have taught you lessons of humanity and disinterestedness, of firmness in repelling an insult, and have enjoined it on you to serve your country. I have accustomed you to speak the truth boldly, and to show yourselves enemies of all adulation. To teach you these things, my children, I did not wait for you to reach even the age of childhood ; but the moment I perceived in you the first sparks of reason, I hastened to instil them into your minds. Hardly had you beheld your eighth summer, when I discovered that you began to fulfil my hopes. Like the soft wax, which, in the hands of a skilful artist, takes whatever form he seeks to give it, youth, at the voice of its guide, commences its journey either in the right or in the wrong path, embraces with PREFACE XXI earnestness the part of virtue, or attaches itself to the seductive exteriors of vice. No one can bring up a child better than a tender and enlightened mother ; and it becomes her who has not leisure for that occupation, which is at times both pleasant and painful, to bestow the greatest attention on the choice of the persons to whom she confides her children. As the minute attentions of the gardener contribute to the birth and perfection of the children of Flora, so does the care of the instructor develop and direct the character and talents of the pupil. Gloomy symptoms of popular discontent had long fore- told the frightful revolution which precipitated France into the depths of calamity. At that time, my children, you seemed to be the only solace of your afflicted mother. Your ingenuous tenderness made you contrive, every day, some new means to assuage her sorrows. You knew how to divert and console me, by means of your gaiety and the charms of your conversation. Early was I tried in the school of adversity. To complete my accumulated mis- fortunes, I was doomed to see my husband sent to prison at the moment I had regained his confidence. I had done everything to merit his esteem — I was about to pluck some of the flowers that spring up along the pathway of life, when, suddenly, the Reign of Terror set in with all its violence. The throne was overturned, the elite of our warriors were cut down by the revolutionary scythe, and M. de Beauharnais, like many others, fell beneath the weight of the laurels that adorned his brow. To escape death or deportation, the most of our friends betook themselves to flight, and, in the depths of woods, in solitary hovels, found an asylum which the towns and cities, a prey to party fury, no longer afforded ; others quitted France. I myself was one of the victims of the distressing events which followed. The estate of your father consisted of several dwellings, but his income wab annihilated by the disasters which visited almost all our XX11 PREFACE colonies, and by the law of sequestration. On leaving the prison only one resource was open to me, that of rising to my task often before day ; sustained by the hope of being useful to you, I earned with some difficulty enough to supply our primary wants. You may, perhaps, imagine that in such a sad situation I felt unhappy ; not so. I fulfilled that sacred duty not as a task ; the very occupation it afforded became dear to me, and created in my heart sources of the purest enjoy- ment. To work for my children opened to me a way of happiness, which, till then, I had not known. You, my son, were born with a thirst for knowledge; study was for you only an amusement, which you preferred to all the sports peculiar to your age. I attended to all your lessons, and raised you in that simplicity which be- fitted the times we lived in. For that reason, I promptly took away from you the book of Heraldry. Of what service would it then have been to you to understand the different armorial bearings, the Champs de Gueules, the sinoples, the pals, the besants, &c. ? All those words had become barbarous, and might no longer be sounded in the ears of the enemies of kings. Besides, I had taught you that it is not birth which opens the road to fame. As the feeble lark mounts up from his resting-place on the earth towards the heavens, so may a man, though bom a shepherd (if possessed of native worth), travel all the paths of military glory, and reach the most distinguished rank. Eugene, you were raised amidst the dust of camps ; you esteemed it an honour, while occupying inferior stations, to be obedient to your superiors ; you constantly observed the discipline of a soldier ; in battle, you ever preserved that presence of mind and that moderation which are so necessary ; and when honour, or the interest of your country, required, you confronted with coolness the greatest dangers ; and you have ever fought for the general weal. Beyond this no one is required to go ; the PREPACK xxiii warrior who rashly exposes himself spreads confusion in the ranks, and often occasions disorder through the whole army. Promoted to the rank of general, aware that courage in a chief is a powerful incitement to the soldier, you displayed your own at the head of our armies ; you did not then forget what you had practised in inferior grades. You remembered that the warrior who commands ought to show himself a model to all who are to obey; and you ever furnished such a model. If you have dis- tinguished yourself in numerous engagements ; if, following in the footsteps of your illustrious father, you have acquired the reputation of a hero, your glory, like his, will never be effaced. But, my son, never forget to protect the weak against the oppressor ; ever make virtue triumphant ; ever show yourself the inflexible enemy of crime ; indulgent towards error, and compassionate towards misfortune. O my son ! I confide to you your children. Watch over their education ; let them learn from you to conduct themselves like men, in whatever country they may be, whether in prosperity or adversity — in a word, to show themselves worthy of you and themselves. And may they one day prove themselves worthy of their ancestors, honouring their country, and rendering themselves im- mortal. As to thee, my beloved daughter, long borne down with sorrow, thou wast, even in thine infancy, quoted as a model of reserve and modesty; but, when fortune had placed thee upon the public stage, thou becamest an object of base jealousy. Faults were imputed to thee, and the blackest envy misconstrued thy most innocent actions. Thy mother was deeply touched by thy sorrows. To her alone didst thou open thy heart ; before her didst thou freely pour forth thy tears. Although the horrible calum- nies did not, in all their venorn, reach thee, yet it was with difficulty that I restored calmness to thy afflicted spirit. The poisonous breath of detraction, which scattered all thy hopes of bliss, long continued to assail thee. But XXIV PREFACE thou hast endured all those persecutions with angelic meekness, and hast the consolation of a pure conscience and an innocent heart. It belongs to me, Hortense, to make thee known ; thy interesting history is attached to my own. How ardently shall I one day perform the duty of your justification. Perchance I shall have the happiness, should the Secret Memoirs of my life be published in France, of reviving in all hearts those sentiments of esteem and admiration which are due to thee. Truth, that truth which I shall make known in all its brightness and power, will correct the errors of opinion ; men will forget their unfounded preju- dices, and learn to admire thy virtues — virtues which have too long been denied thee. And thus wilt thou behold thy reputation triumph by means of that same moderation which thou hast never ceased to show from the origin of thy misfortunes. There are those who, enlightened by the torch of repentance, will say, " Too late am I undeceived, and my tardy regrets cannot now repair the wrongs of which I was the involuntary cause." Hist of TOu0tratt