Napoleon and the Queen of Prussia Part 60

"We shall have the trunk carried into the house; I believe the postmaster has a room where you can dress, and a servant-girl who can a.s.sist you."

"But, Bonaparte," exclaimed Josephine, "do you not see that that is impossible? It is daylight; is, then, the carriage to open and the empress to alight with one slipper on her feet, to be triumphantly conducted into the house? Ah, my friend, all Europe would smile at the idyllic empress who accompanied her husband on his journey in such a dishabille."

"It is true," said Napoleon, moodily, "it would be a fine anecdote for the so-called legitimate princes, and they would proudly laugh at the violation of the _dehors_ committed by imperial upstarts. As though it were so difficult to learn the ridiculous rules of their etiquette, if one should deem it worth while!"

Josephine gently patted the emperor's forehead with her white hand. "No clouds must darken my morning sun," she said, "for they would foretell a gloomy day. I wish you could transform yourself into my maid."

"What!" exclaimed the emperor, laughing. "Transform myself into your maid?"

"And why not, Bonaparte?" asked Josephine. "Did not your brother, the great Jove, transform himself into an ox for the sake of Europa? The carriage is moving again! Draw the curtains, and then, my dear maid, we shall commence dressing." She hastily opened the small travelling-trunk, which had carefully been filled with every thing required for her toilet--small velvet gaiters, a comfortable velvet cloak, one of her large cashmere shawls, and a beautiful red satin dress with lace tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs.

"You will have but little trouble with me," said the empress, busily examining the contents of the trunk. "Dear Madame Remusat has arranged every thing as judiciously as possible, and forgotten nothing. There are warm gloves, embroidered handkerchiefs--in short, all I need. Ah! there is but one thing she has forgotten."

"Well, and what is that?"

"It is a mirror. Bonaparte, you must be my mirror to-day. But come now, my dear maid! enter upon your duties. In the first place, a.s.sist me in putting on my gaiters."

"What admirable ones they are!" said the emperor. "Are these tiny things really large enough for your feet?"

"Yes. Did you forget that your Josephine has the smallest and prettiest foot in all France? Formerly, when you were not the all-powerful Napoleon, but the brave and ill.u.s.trious General Bonaparte, you knew it.

Ah, I wish you were still General Bonaparte, and we lived at our small house in the Rue Chantereine!"

"Indeed, I am glad that I am no longer there," said Napoleon. "It seems to me General Bonaparte did not forfeit his glory; he only changed his t.i.tle and position. That of an emperor is not so bad, and the Tuileries a very pleasant residence. But, Josephine, let me see whether this fairy-shoe is really large enough for human foot!"

"Bonaparte, envy and jealousy prompt you to say so," said Josephine, laughing. "You cannot comprehend how any foot could be even smaller than yours. But just take into consideration that you are the great Bonaparte, and that I am but poor little Josephine--the insignificant creature that derives only from you light and life. Bonaparte, you have the largest foot that man ever had."

"What! I have the largest foot?" exclaimed Napoleon, in surprise. "Why, I have always been told that my foot was very small."

"Oh, that was a mistake," said Josephine, gravely, "for how would it otherwise be possible for you to trample down the whole of Europe as you are doing?"

Napoleon laughed. "Very good," he said, "you are right; I have put my foot on the neck of Europe, and shall crush all who resist me!"

"Bonaparte," exclaimed Josephine, menacingly, "no politics now, no threatening imperial face! Remember that, at the present moment, you are nothing but my maid. There is my foot! Put on my gaiter, and see whether it is large enough!"

Napoleon at once obeyed, his wife's toilet commenced, and the first day of their journey pa.s.sed in laughter and affectionate chatting. The empress had not enjoyed so happy a day for years. All cares and apprehensions were forgotten. What did light-hearted Josephine care for the future?

But, alas! the second day was different. The smiles of the unfortunate woman met with no reply. The emperor was taciturn and gloomy. Wrapped in his sable robe, he was leaning in a corner of the carriage, and made only stern and brief answers to Josephine's questions. The heart and countenance of the empress grew heavy and anxious.

When they arrived at Strasburg on the evening of the fourth day, each of them sat silent--the empress with tearful eye; the emperor frowning and stern. Napoleon offered his arm to his consort, and conducted her into the palace. "Good-night, Josephine," he said, standing still at the entrance of the rooms destined for her, "good-night!"

"You will not take supper with me?" asked the empress in a low, imploring voice.

"No, I have business to attend to. Good-night!" And he walked away without saluting or even looking at her. Josephine went into her rooms.

She refused to partake of refreshment, and avoided the necessity of admitting the officials, who wished to pay their respects to her, by sending them word that she was too fatigued to receive any one. Alone she could weep without being disturbed.

At an unusually early hour on the following morning Napoleon entered her room. Josephine was just about to dress, a.s.sisted by her Parisian maids.

He motioned them to withdraw, and then commenced pacing the room in his usual manner, when excited.

"Napoleon," said Josephine, in a tremulous voice, "you have come with bad news. My heart tells me so, and I read it on your gloomy brow.

Speak, and tell me every thing at once. I am prepared for it."

"Well, then, I must say," replied Napoleon, vehemently,--"you cannot, Josephine, accompany me farther. We must part this hour. I yielded to your wishes in spite of myself, but only thus far! A new campaign is about to begin; days of battles, troubles, and fatigues, are awaiting me. You must not and cannot share them. You must remain here."

Josephine cast a melancholy look on him. "But when you have conquered, when you have made again your triumphant entry into Vienna, will you then call me, Napoleon? Shall I then share your triumphs as I used to do? Bonaparte, do not now make an evasive reply! Tell me the truth, for I can bear it. Tell me, when the fortune of war has favored you--when you have vanquished Austria, as you have hitherto every other enemy--will you then call me to you? The truth, my friend, the truth!"

"Very well, I will tell you the truth," exclaimed Napoleon, after a brief hesitation. "No, Josephine--I will not. You can share my triumphs no more!"

Josephine uttered a cry, and her eyes filled with tears. "I am doomed, then," she said, "and what Fouche told me was true!"

"What did he tell you?" asked the emperor, hastily.

"He told me to prepare for a heavy blow--that you, Napoleon, had secretly applied to the Emperor Alexander for the hand of his sister, and that only the resistance of the dowager prevented you from accomplis.h.i.+ng your purpose."

"Yes," exclaimed Napoleon, moodily, and, as if absent-minded, "yes, the proud empress-dowager hates me, and hastened to marry her daughter to a petty German prince rather than let her become the consort of the Emperor of the French.[44] Well, no matter! other princes have daughters, too, and one of them will a.s.suredly be only too happy to become my wife!"

[Footnote 44: Napoleon ordered Talleyrand at Erfurt to inquire of the Emperor Alexander whether he would permit him to marry his sister.

Alexander replied that nothing could afford him greater pleasure than that Napoleon should become his brother-in-law, but the matter did not depend on his decision alone. The empress-dowager must also be consulted. No sooner had she heard of Napoleon's wishes than she induced her daughter to marry the Duke of Oldenburg. The notification of the marriage of the grand-d.u.c.h.ess to this German prince was the only reply that was ever made to Napoleon's inquiring wish.]

"Napoleon, and you dare tell me so?" exclaimed Josephine, reproachfully.

"You admit, then, that you are about to disown me?"

The emperor started. "Pardon me, Josephine," he said, in confusion, "I was absent-minded, I--"

"Yes, you were," interrupted the empress, "and while so, you betrayed your thoughts. It is true, then! Cruel man! You have forgotten every thing, and the whole past has been blotted out. You can seriously think of parting with me, your best friend?"

"No, not now, Josephine," exclaimed Napoleon. "You have nothing to fear.

I shall not enter Germany as a wooer, but as a soldier, and I do not desire to seek myrtle-crowns, but laurels!"

"But, my husband, when you have gained fresh laurels and new territories with the blood of your soldiers, then, I suppose, Josephine is to be sacrificed?"

Napoleon did not reply. He paced the room slowly and with a bowed head.

Standing still, he looked with sad eyes in his consort's tearful face.

"Josephine," he said, in a grave voice, "you have a n.o.ble heart, and it will bear the truth. Yes, there may be a day when we shall have to part, although I love you, and I know well that you are the only faithful friend on whom I can rely! Judge, therefore, what pangs it will cost me when obliged to come to the terrible resolution to separate from you, my guardian angel! But I belong to my people--I belong to my glory! My power has a.s.sumed such gigantic proportions that I must support it with foundations that cannot be overthrown. The Emperor Napoleon must have a successor; if you had given birth to one, I should never have parted from you. Now all hope is gone, and I shall, perhaps, be compelled one day to look for a consort among the daughters of kings. I really do not wish to do so, but my duty to my people makes it imperative."

"No, not your duty, but your ambition!" cried Josephine, with streaming eyes. "You have sacrificed every thing for that--your tranquillity, your conscience, the blood of your soldiers, and now your wife!"

"Yes, it is as you say, Josephine," exclaimed Napoleon; "it is my ambition that separates me from you, and compels me to part with her who has been my glory and my life for sixteen years! It is ambition that points its iron arm at my imperial crown, and commands me to look for another empress, that I and my son may enter the ranks of legitimate princes. I have formed vast plans; I shall soon effect new convulsions: I shall vanquish all my enemies, and Europe will have to recognize me as her master. But when nothing remains to wish for--when I have so ascended as to leave no heights above me, then I shall think of securing the happiness and peace of my people and of my empire. To do so, I am in need of a direct heir. For myself, I ask and wish for nothing; but my glory belongs to France. After my death my contemporaries will say of me, 'He was the only one who could strive for universal good, while his individual wishes had been gratified; others thought only of themselves--Bonaparte's wishes and deeds were for his country. There was one thing that was dear to him personally, and that was his wife! But the welfare of his people requiring it, he sacrificed this beloved wife to their interests.'"

"Words!" exclaimed Josephine. "You are vainly trying to conceal your innermost thoughts from me. I know you, Bonaparte, and can read your soul! You wish to connect yourself with the foremost sovereign houses of Europe, because such a union will flatter your pride and your insatiable ambition. When you are the son-in-law of an emperor or a king, you will believe that you are at liberty to do every thing with impunity. You will deem yourself a demi-G.o.d, and, accompanied by your victorious legions, you will march to the conquest of the whole world. But that will not be your destiny. You believe you can enslave the nations.

Beware lest they one day awake, break their chains, and take a terrible revenge on the tyrant whom they allowed so long to oppress them!

Seduced by your illusive ambition, you will disown Josephine? Infatuated man! you will perceive too late that you walk near a volcano. Oh, Bonaparte, I tremble and weep for you! Remember that you have often called me your guardian angel. Believe me, when you disown me, you disown your good fortune. It will forsake the faithless man, and your star will sink in an eternal night! That is what wounds my heart, and drives me to despair. You will be alone in the midst of traitors and false friends. When Josephine is with you no more, no one will have good intentions toward you. No one will dare tell you the truth, when you lose your best friend. Falsehood will flatter you, but only to lead you to the verge of the precipice!" The empress, with quivering limbs and pale features, sank on a chair, and covered her face.

A long pause ensued. Napoleon gloomily continued walking the room. At last he approached Josephine, and gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Do not weep," he said, imploringly. "We have once more allowed phantoms to frighten us, and quarrelled about things that belong to the future.

You are still my wife, and who knows whether you will not always remain mine? Who knows whether you will not soon be my widow? I am about to enter into another war, and it will be a desperate, obstinate struggle, in which old Austria will try to wrest the palm of victory from young France. Victory will perch on my banners. I have no doubt of that, but who knows whether I shall not have to pay for it with my blood! for I must not spare myself--I shall always be at the head of my troops, and, like my private soldiers, with them bare my own breast to the hail of bullets. In so decisive a struggle as will take place now, the emperor will be nothing but a soldier, and do his duty."

"Oh, Bonaparte!" cried Josephine, rising in dismay and clinging to him, "oh, have mercy on my heart! Do not rashly expose yourself to the accidents of battle! Remember that the fate of millions depends on your life! Remember that I should die if an accident befall you! Oh, my dearest husband, be kind and generous--spare yourself, and spare my love!"