#paris 1814

Well, mostly that’s me being malicious as usual 😁. But yes, people in Paris at the time did of course wonder what made the tsar – called by some the most handsome man of the era, according to Hortense’s biographer Marie-Hélène Baylac - go to Malmaison of all places during his time in Paris 1814. And they surely did not assume it had anything to do with 50-year-old Josephine, but with her daughter Hortense. Who may not have been as beautiful, but had the reputation of being very distinguished and rather … friendly, especially with men.

Hortense and the tsar met for the first time on 16 April 1814, according to a footnote by Jean Hanoteau in volume 2 of Hortense’s memoirs. Hortense makes a big point about how she at first behaved in a very dignified, almost cold manner to this enemy of France and how it took both Josephine’s persuasion and the efforts of several diplomats, Caulaincourt and Nesselrode among them, for her to befriend him. This is to some degree confirmed by the memoirs of her reader Louise Cochelet. However, that degree may not be very high, considering that Louise Cochelet’s memoirs were published and edited (rewritten?) by Hortense herself. Memoirs of contemporaries indicate that it was rather Louise Cochelet who ran after the new Russian masters of Paris and tried to win them over to the Beauharnais cause. Even if Hortense claims it in her memoirs, it seems doubtful that Louise (Hortense’s closest confidante, keeper of all her secrets down to the existence of a certain Duc de Morny) would have acted on her own accord.

In the end, it does not matter. A close friendship developped, that much is sure. As Hortense states in her memoirs:

What's most appealing about him is that his need for affection seems to be part of his character. He inspires confidence because he knows how to show it. [...] I liked his character. I felt friendship for him and it is painful to expect any service from those whom we would like to love for themselves. So I left my initial reserve and allowed myself a greater degree of abandonment [...].

Both had an interest in the spiritual, both were rather romantic and enthusiastic. According to Hortense’s memoirs, Alexander even pondered inviting both Hortense and her mother to Saint Petersburg. The tsar went out of his way for Hortense (as he later would for Eugène, when the latter reached Paris). It was probably he who bullied Louis XVIII into making Hortense a "Duchess of Saint-Leu", and into allowing her to keep her sons with her in France, when technically, she was of course a Bonaparte and should have been affected by the law that exiled all members of the family, just like her husband. Hortense’s sons were, after the little ex-King of Rome, the next pretenders to the imperial throne. So Louis XVIII had to agree to have his own rivals grow up right before his eyes, that’s surely asking a lot from a monarch.

When Josephine died, Hortense was so overcome with grief – she writes – that she did not see anyone. Except for one visitor: Tsar Alexander.

Finally, when Alexander left for London, his depart started a very personal and, from Hortense’s side, sometimes gushy correspondence between them. They also must have met during Hortense’s stay in Baden. Interestingly, both Hortense and Alexander at that time have troubles with their longterm lovers: Handsome Flahaut, the father of the Duc de Morny, does propose to Hortense after Napoleon’s fall, suggesting Hortense should officially divorce. Hortense however refuses, and her relationship to Flahaut takes a severe blow (he will soon find a bride elsewhere). Alexander, as to him, during the same year ditches his mistress Maria Antonovna Naryshkin. And he confides about this to – Hortense.

Baylac cites one of Hortense’s letters as follows:

[…] when I think of the sovereign who has shown an interest in me, who has looked after my affairs with kindness, I am grateful, I wish for his happiness, and that is all; but when I think of the man who showed me friendship and confidence, when I remember that he tried to love me, my troubles advise me to hope in providence; finally, he knew how to speak to my heart, for how many times since, feeling emotion or fear about the future, I have resigned myself by saying: My God, I trust in you! Ah, the one whose feelings are so similar to mine, he is a friend, a support that heaven has sent me.

It’s maybe not completely astonishing that the tone of this correspondence has made, as Baylac puts it, "certain biographers doubt the platonic nature of their relations".

This relationship, whatever its nature, continued until the Hundred Days. At this point, Eugène was in Vienna, taking part in the Vienna Congress. The secret police (allegedly?) intercepted (falsified? - it’s so hard to find the truth about what happened within all these intrigues!) several letters, at least one from Hortense, badly hidden in a brush she had sent to her brother. I have read that Hortense in one letter openly mocked the tsar. The intercepted letters were shown to Alexander, who then passed them on to Eugène – ostentatiously opened – before breaking off all relations with both Beauharnais siblings.

Interestingly, his friendship with Eugène was soon healed. With Hortense? Not so much. To my knowledge, never. Alexander obviously felt truly hurt by her, in a similar way as he felt hurt by Caulaincourt’s behaviour. Admittedly, I have not looked into Hortense’s years in Bavaria much, but it seems when the tsar and tsarina visited Bavaria, and the tsar insisted on Eugène being of the party (much to the chagrin of queen Karoline 😊), Hortense was very much not invited. (Though, truth be told, it seems she was only rarely invited to Munich ever.)

So, that’s the base for my maliciousness 😁. Make of it what you want. As i do not have much faith in Hortense’s professed virtue in general, I am probably not the best judge of character in her case.

Just a quick addition to this story about Soult's "roi Nicolas" affair in Oporto 1809: Saint-Chamains in his memoirs mentions

a Portuguese priest named Veloso, who was as rich as he was narrow-minded

as somebody who turned into a staunch supporter of the French and their marshal during the weeks Soult's army corps occupied the north of Portugal.

It just occurred to me to google that name and guess what?

Link to some Portuguese archive

Correspondência entre o duque da Dalmácia , o marechal general Wellington, duque de Vitória e D.Miguel Pereira Forjaz sobre o pedido do Padre José Valério Veloso para regressar a Portugal -

Correspondence between the Duke of Dalmatia, Marshal General Wellington, Duke of Vitoria and Miguel Pereira Forjaz on Father José Valério Veloso's request to return to Portugal

According to this table of contents there are - if I've properly understood - 5 letters from this correspondence, dated April to May 1814, so immediately after Napoleon's first abdication. Does this mean that the poor Padre Veloso had been forced to follow the French, and that Soult was now trying to get Wellington to use his influence on Portuguese authorities in order for his Portuguese ally to be allowed home?

There is a book by historian Thierry Lentz entitled "Les vingt jours de Fontainebleau", referring to the three weeks Napoleon spent at this castle between the fall of Paris and his departure for Elba. This period also includes his suicide attempt, and since @northernmariette was interested in this topic, here's a short summary.

Thierry Lentz's narrative for the most part does not follow Caulaincourt's memoirs, which he consults for the time before and after, but the notes of Louis Etienne Saint-Denis, aka "Mameluk Ali", who, although not a direct witness himself, drew his knowledge from the valet Hubert, a friend of his who was on duty that night. While until the middle of the nineteenth century there were apparently grave doubts, today at least no one denies that Napoleon's suicide attempt really took place. In any case, there are enough testimonies that point to immense agitation on that night from 12 to 13 April 1814.

Chronological context: On the afternoon of 12 April, after delivering Napoleon's unconditional abdication to Tsar Alexander as Napoleon's plenipotentiaries and negotiating the Treaty of Fontainebleau with the Tsar and the interim government, Macdonald and Caulaincourt had returned to Fontainebleau. Ney, the third member of their negotiating team in fact, had already left them and joined the Allies. During the negotiations, Napoleon had once again tried to withdraw his abdication, a move that a deeply unnerved Caulaincourt simply chose to ignore.

Nevertheless, the two remaining negotiators are received warmly by Napoleon upon their return. Among Napoleon's remaining entourage, the mood is almost relieved to see the agony finally come to an end. Macdonald and Caulaincourt report and are asked to attend supper at 9 o'clock in the evening, but they eat alone because Napoleon feigns indisposition, retires to his room and eats something there. When he returns, he dismisses Macdonald for the evening with orders to be back tomorrow at nine. Caulaincourt stays a little longer before he too is dismissed to bed with the remark that Napoleon will send for him later tonight.

Up to this point we have followed Caulaincourt, now we switch to Saint-Denis:

At about four o'clock in the morning Napoleon calls the valet Hubert and asks for his dressing gown. Hubert enters, puts the lamp on the side table, brings Napoleon his dressing gown, a pair of footed trousers, and puts the slippers on him. Then he is instructed to rekindle the fire. Napoleon declares that he wants to write to the Empress. Hubert descends the stairs to the writing cabinet to fetch ink, paper and quills, and then retreats back to the antechamber. He leaves the door slightly ajar and can watch Napoleon start to write several times, only to crumple up the papers each time and throw them into the fire.

Napoleon did indeed write to Marie Louise that night, although Hubert seems to have missed the fact that Napoleon actually completed one of his draft letters. According to the editors of the "Correspondance Générale", Tom 15, however, the letter was never delivered to Marie Louise. It reads:

No. 38658 - To Marie-Louise. Fontainebleau, 13 April 1814, 3 a.m.

My dear Louise, I have received your letter. I approve of your going to Rambouillet where your father will join you. It is the only consolation you can receive in our misfortunes. For eight days I have been waiting for the moment with eagerness. Your father has been misguided and bad for us, but he will be a good father for you and your son. Caulaincourt has arrived. Yesterday I sent you a copy of the arrangements he signed, which ensured your son's fate. Goodbye, my sweet Louise. You are what I love most in the world. My misfortunes affect me only by the harm they do to you. All your life you will love the most tender of husbands. Give a kiss to your son. Farewell, my Louise. All yours.

[I can’t help but notice the most secure sign that he really may have wanted to kill himself: He calls little Napoleon Marie Louise’s son no less than three times. Usually, it’s always »my son«.]

Back to events according to valet Hubert:

On the dresser are usually glasses, a sugar bowl and a carafe of water, but Hubert happens to know that the sugar bowl is missing this evening as the servant who should have filled it has left it with him in the antechamber. Nevertheless, he hears Napoleon pouring liquid into a glass and then stirring it with a spoon. He wonders what Napoleon is dissolving in water, since he has no sugar, but then assumes that Napoleon must have taken sugar from his travel nécessaire.

[While I am struck by the fact that it was apparently customary to sweeten normal water with sugar? Ah, these ascetic, hardened military men!]

After a moment of silence, Napoleon approaches the door and tells Hubert to call Messrs Caulaincourt, Maret, Bertrand and Fain. As soon as the gentlemen arrive, Napoleon tells them that he cannot and will not bear the dishonour of France and has therefore just poisoned himself. Whereupon, of course, there is immediate commotion, people run around the castle looking for Yvan or anyone else who might have an antidote at hand, they give Napoleon emetics, watch him vomit and oversee him as he writhes in convulsions on his bed, complaining that this dying thing is really a difficult business. He falls asleep briefly, they carry him to the window for fresh air, and when the immediate danger seems over, they leave him under Constant's care and go to bed. The next morning Napoleon is already well enough to go for a walk in the garden with the gentlemen.

@northernmariette: I am not sure if this is the incident you had in mind. But I did indeed come across a scene that has Caulaincourt and Berthier trying in vain to calm Napoleon down. And even if it’s not what you thought about, it’s still a fine episode of “First Empire - Comedy Central”.

During the afternoon of March 30, Napoleon and his army, informed of the approach of the allied troops, were rushing towards Paris. And the emperor apparently had forgotten all the orders he had given to Joseph about never letting his son falling into the hands of the enemy etc, because his mood was excellent. He apparently thought he would find the enemy army waiting for him, planned to beat them in one decisive battle (ignoring the odds and the enemy’s numerical superiority) and to thus save the day and the war.

In truth, the battle for Paris had already happened and ended, Marie Louise and the King of Rome had left the city the day before, Joseph that same day, and Marmont and Mortier had capitulated in the afternoon and were already in negotiations to withdraw their troops from the capital. All of which Napoleon learned, when they were changing horses at the post station of Fontainebleau, from one general Belliard, who led the first troops out of the Paris region.

And now the shit hit the fan.

Belliard didn’t know much of what had been going on but what he knew sufficed to set Napoleon off on a rampage. He ordered Caulaincourt to immediately bring his coach, wanted Beliard to turn around and lead his troops back - which would have meant breaking the agreements of the capitulation -, sent Flahaut to Paris in order to stop all kinds of negotiations right now ... and as all of this apparently wasn’t enough, he started walking. On foot. To Paris. In order to ... lift the siege of Paris all by himself, I guess?

According to the witnesses, he actually marched for several kilometers (!), accusing everyone of having “perdu la tête“, Joseph of being a prick (”un con”) and Clarke (minister of war) of being either a jerk (”jean-foutre”) or a traitor, before Berthier and Caulaincourt, who apparently kept running after him, managed to calm him down enough to drag him back to Fontainebleau.