1809.
The Emperor Francis was not without distractions during his honeymoon with his third wife, the young Empress, Marie Louise Beatrice. It was evident to every one that the Peace of Presbourg, like that of Lunéville, could be nothing more than a truce. Austria could never be reconciled to its loss, between 1792 and 1806, of the Low Countries, Suabia, Milan, the Venetian States, Tyrol, Dalmatia, and finally of the Imperial crown of Germany; for the heir of the Germanic Caesars now styled himself simply the Emperor of Austria, and a great part of Germany had become the humble vassal of Napoleon. Of all the Austrians, it was perhaps the Emperor who felt the least hatred of France. His whole family and his whole people—nobles, priests, the middle classes, and the peasantry—nourished an angry resentment against the nation that was overturning Europe. The new Empress, whose family had been deprived of the Duchy of Modena, was conspicuous for the bitterness of her indignation and of her political feelings. In the eyes of all the Austrians, great or small, poor or rich, the French were the hereditary enemies, the invaders, the destroyers of the throne and the Church, impious, sacrilegious, revolutionary,—the authors of every evil. It was they who, for years, destroyed the harvests, shed torrents of blood, smote with the sword or the axe of the guillotine, crowded war upon war, heaped ruins upon ruins, bringing misery and disgrace to all mankind. The old nobility, once so proud of its coats-of-arms and of its sovereign rights, now enslaved, humiliated, shorn of its independence, knew no limit to its abuse of the "Corsican savage," who had cut the roots of the old Germanic tree, previously so majestic. The priests denounced the nation which had dared to confiscate the patrimony of Saint Peter, and they cursed in Napoleon the persecutor of the Holy Vicar of Christ. Women who had lost their husbands or sons in the war held France responsible for their afflictions. The Frenchmen, overthrowing and despoiling everything, foes of the human race, the enemies of morality and religion, brought suffering to princes in their palaces, to workmen in their factories, to tradespeople in their shops, to the priests in their churches, to the soldiers in their camps, to the peasants in their huts. The war of wrath was irresistible. Every one lamented the mistake that had been made in abandoning the struggle; all felt that they should have fought to the end, at the cost of every man and every florin; that a mistake had been made in not assisting Prussia at the time of the campaign of Jena; and that the moment had come for all the powers to combine against the common foe and to crush him. Did he make any pretence of concealing his intention to overthrow every throne, and to make himself the oldest sovereign? Had he not had the insolence to say at Milan in 1805, to the Prince of Cardito, the Neapolitan envoy extraordinary, "Tell your Queen that I shall leave to her and her family only enough land for their graves"? Had he not recently, under the walls of Madrid, uttered these significant words to the Spaniards, "If you don't want my brother Joseph for king, I shall not force him upon you. I have another throne for him; and as for you, I shall treat you as a conquered country"? This other throne, it was said at Vienna, this throne which Napoleon did not name, must be the throne of the Emperor Francis II. himself. Already the Imperial crown of Germany had been lost, and the Austrian crown was threatened. But, added all the archdukes and officers, that would not be so easy as the French imagined, and they would get a good lesson. The Hapsburgs were not so compliant as the Spanish Bourbons, and the Bayonne ambush could not be repeated. All Europe was thrilling with indignation; only a signal was needed for it to rise, and this signal Austria would give. This time there was every chance of success. Their cry was "Victory or Death!" but victory was certain. The French army, scattered from the Oder to the Tagus, from the mountains of Bohemia to the Sierra Morena, would not be able to withstand so many people eager to break their yoke. Were not Russia and Prussia as desirous as Austria of revenge? Was not the whole of Germany ready for the fray? Napoleon boasted that he was the Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine; but if the Confederate Princes were under his command, in his pay, the people, more patriotic, more truly German than their rulers, burned with a longing to expel the French. Let Napoleon suffer but a single defeat, and then on which one of his vassals would he be able to count? Could he even rely on his own subjects? Were there not already in his overgrown Empire many germs of decay and death? In Vienna in 1809 the same things were said as in Berlin in 1806; the same feelings prevailed. The military ardor had grown so intense that the greatest soldier of Austria, the Archduke Charles, was looked upon as too cool, too moderate, and those who were eager to begin the fight called this bold warrior, this famous general, the "Prince of Peace." Even if he had wished it, the Emperor Francis would not have been able to calm the warlike fever of his army and his people.
The musketry and the cannon would have fired themselves without waiting for war to be declared. The Landwehr, which had been organized only a few months, was impatient to cross swords with the veterans of the French army. Volunteers enlisted in crowds; patriotic gifts abounded. A story was told of a cobbler who, in despair at not being permitted to join the army, blew out his brains. Youths wished to leave school in order to serve. All classes of society rivalled one another in zeal, courage, and self-sacrifice. When it was known that the Archduke Charles had been appointed commander-in-chief, February 20, 1809, there was an outburst of confidence from one end of the Empire to the other. March 9, the Archbishop of Vienna solemnly blessed in the Cathedral the flags of the Viennese Landwehr. Together with the other members of the Imperial family, the young Archduchess Marie Louise was present at this patriotic and religious ceremony. Could she have imagined that one year later, to the delight of the vast majority of this same populace of Vienna, she was to become the wife of this Napoleon who then was calling forth such violent wrath and deep hatred?
Never was there such a terrible war; never perhaps had the world seen such slaughter. April 8, 1809, the Emperor Francis left his capital, leaving there his wife and children, who were not able to stay there after the fifth of May. From Vienna the Archduchess Marie Louise wrote frequently to her father. A rumor had spread that the battle of Eckmühl had been a brilliant victory for the Austrians, and Marie Louise wrote to her father, April 25: "We have heard with delight that Napoleon was present at the great battle which the French lost. May he lose his head as well! There are a great many prophecies about his speedy end, and people say that the Apocalypse applies to him. They maintain that he is going to die this year at Cologne, in an inn called the 'Red Crawfish.' I do not attach much importance to these prophecies, but how glad I should be to see them come true!" These sentiments, it must be confessed, are a singular preparation for the next year's wedding.
When the Empress of Austria was compelled to leave Vienna with her children at the approach of the enemy, she had more the appearance of an exile than of a sovereign. She was very ill at the time, and scarcely able to support the jolting of her carriage, and she groaned continually, as much from her moral as from her physical sufferings. "It is horrible," said Marie Louise, "to see her suffer so." It rained in torrents, and the thunder roared as if to foretell all the misfortunes which were about to overwhelm the country. The roads, made still worse by the bad weather, were abominable. When the fugitives reached Buda, after a long and difficult journey, they were wet through, and nearly worn out with fatigue.
The illusions of the Imperial family were speedily destroyed by the harsh reality. Vienna surrendered May 12, after suffering severely. In a few hours eighteen hundred shells had fallen in the city. The streets were narrow, the houses high, and the populace crowded within the narrow fortifications were terrified and infuriated at the sight of the damage caused by the shells, which started fires in every direction. Who would have said to the Viennese who were then hurling all manner of imprecations at Napoleon, the author of their woes, that in ten months later they would be singing the praise of this detested Emperor, and would be voluntarily setting French flags in their windows as symbols of friendship? May 13, 1809, the French, under the command of General Oudinot, entered Vienna, amid the curses and execrations of the populace beside itself with grief; and ten months later to a day, March 13, 1810, the same populace, joyous and peaceful, with bells ringing and cannon saluting, blessed and applauded an archduchess who was leaving Vienna to share this same Napoleon's throne!
But meanwhile there were many horrors, and much blood was shed. The artillery duel was most formidable; there was no limit to the fury and obstinacy of the two combatants. It was a war of giants in which all the infernal powers appeared to be let loose at once. Napoleon himself, familiar as he was with scenes of carnage, was surprised by the bitterness of the struggle. Never had he defied fortune with such audacity. Neglecting the usual laws of military science, he fought for twenty-four hours without cessation, on a line only three leagues long, having in his rear one of the largest rivers in Europe. Wagram was a victory, but a victory hotly disputed. When at the opening of the campaign it was thought that events would take a turn favorable to Austria, a thrill of hope, a movement of joy, ran through all the European nations, which showed the conqueror what would have happened if he had been beaten. He began to long for peace as ardently as he had longed for war. He no longer thought of making Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia three separate kingdoms, or of dethroning the Emperor Francis, and putting in his place his brother, the Grand Duke of Würzburg, formerly the Grand Duke of Tuscany. The Austrians, for whom he had felt a certain contempt, now inspired him with profound esteem; he admired their bravery, and especially the fidelity, of which they had given many touching proofs, to their unfortunate ruler. The hero of Wagram said to himself that if instead of gaining this battle he had lost it, he would not have gone back to the Tuileries as easily as Francis was going back to his palace in Vienna. An Emperor of Austria could be beaten and retain his popularity; but he, the great Napoleon, could not. That was the reflection which was made one day by his successor, himself a prisoner of Prussia, "In France one cannot be unfortunate."
When the negotiations began to arrange peace, Napoleon treated the two distinguished officers, Prince John of Lichtenstein and General von Bubna, with the utmost courtesy. He spared no pains to show his personal esteem and to flatter their national pride; he spoke in the highest terms of the Austrian army and of the bravery it had displayed in the last campaign. He said to them: "You will always remain the first continental power, after France; you are deucedly strong. Allied as I was with Russia, I never expected to have on my hands a serious continental war, and what a war!" Then to console them for the conditions imposed on mutilated Austria, he added: "Why distress yourselves about a few scraps of territory which must come back to you some day? All this can only last during my lifetime. France ought never to fight beyond the Rhine. I have been able to; but when I'm gone, it's all over." Perhaps he was thinking of marrying Marie Louise; at any rate, he showed a consideration for Prince John of Lichtenstein and General Bubna which amazed all who saw it. M. de Bausset, who accompanied him as a gentleman-in-waiting, says in his Memoirs: "I watched attentively the two Austrian commissioners while they were breakfasting with the Emperor: I tried to read their expressions, and I fancied that I saw harmony and a good understanding growing day by day…. Napoleon's politeness and graciousness towards these gentlemen never relaxed for a moment. He seemed anxious to give them a favorable idea of his manners and his person." Nevertheless there were many patriotic men and women in Austria who were inconsolable. Princess Charles of Schwarzenberg—the wife of the brilliant general who had just fought like a hero, and, in the next year, as Austrian ambassador at the court of the Tuileries Avas to negotiate the marriage of Napoleon and Marie Louise—wrote a most despairing letter to her husband, in which she said: "I shall bury myself in the past in order to escape the present and the future. I have heard that you were to be chosen to negotiate this so-called peace; it was a heavenly grace by which you escaped sullying your name. To conclude, I have only one earthly wish: it is that the ruin which we are cowardly enough to call a peace, may become complete, that our political existence may end. I pray for the calm of death."
Napoleon was about leaving Schoenbrunn, to return to France, when, October 12, 1809, just as he was about to review his troops, he saw approaching him a young German, of suspicious appearance, who was at once arrested. This young man, whose name was Staaps, was the son of a Protestant pastor at Erfurt, and under his coat was found a large, sharp dagger, with which he said he had intended to kill the Emperor, in order to deliver Germany. The cool, calm replies of this determined fanatic, whom Napoleon himself examined, made a deep impression upon him. Might not this young German be the forerunner of numberless volunteers who were about to organize against France what they would consider a holy war? At the sight of this youth, who gave calm expression to unrelenting hatred, Napoleon—who did not venture to spare his life, although no criminal act had been committed—was moved by a painful feeling in which pity was mingled with surprise. He who had cost Germany such torrents of blood and tears was singularly astonished when at last he saw that Germany did not love him. Nothing is so repugnant to the great of the earth, and especially to conquerors, as the thought of death,—death, the only unconquerable foe! What, the first comer, a fool, a vulgar fanatic, can with a kitchen knife lay low the greatest hero, the most illustrious warrior, the mightiest king! At Regensberg, when he was wounded for the first time since he had begun his military career, the hero of so many battles perceived, and not without a pang, that he was not invulnerable. Before the corpse of the brave Marshal Lannes, who had had his two legs carried off by a cannon-ball at Esoling, he wrote very sadly to the Empress Josephine: "So everything ends!" And now he might himself have fallen by the hand of a poor, unknown student! As the Duchess of Abrantès wrote: "Death, which was always prowling about the Emperor in various forms, yet never daring to seize him, but always appearing to say, Take care! … was a prophecy, and a prophecy of evil." Napoleon began to reflect seriously. To audacity and the spirit of adventure there suddenly succeeded prudence and the need of self-preservation. The all-powerful Emperor said to himself at the moment of his triumph, that if he were to die without a direct heir, his vast Empire would fall to pieces, like that of Alexander the Great, and the unrivalled edifice, built at the price of so much toil and sacrifice, would be shattered.
The national historian has said: "In proportion as he lost the support of the public, Napoleon took pleasure in thinking that it was the lack of a future and not his own misdeeds that threatened his proud throne with premature fragility. The desire to make firm what he felt trembling beneath his feet, became his dominant passion, as if, with a new wife in the Tuileries, the mother of a male heir, the faults which had armed the whole world against him would be only causes without effects." And Thiers adds this reflection: "It would doubtless have been to his advantage to have had an undoubted heir; it would have been better, a hundred times better, to have been prudent and wise. Napoleon, who, despite his need of a son, could not, after Tilsit, at the very climax of his power and glory, make up his mind to sacrifice Josephine, at last came to a decision because he felt the Empire threatened, and he tried in a new marriage to secure the solidity which he should have tried to obtain by wise and moderate conduct."
Possibly even when at Schoenbrunn the conqueror already thought of asking for the hand of the young archduchess whose home this palace was. At any rate, it never crossed his mind that in the very room where he wove such proud visions, such far-reaching plans, his heir would die so sadly, the heir whom the daughter of the Germanic Caesars was to give to him. When he reappeared crowned with victory at Fontainebleau, October 26, 1809, Josephine felt that her fate was sealed. The immediate result of the battle of Wagram was the divorce.
Austria had known terrible fears during the campaign of Wagram; it had asked anxiously, whether the Hapsburgs might not disappear from the list of crowned heads, like the Spanish Bourbons, or might not, like the Neapolitan Bourbons, be left to enjoy only part of their States. The peace which was signed at Vienna, October 14, 1809, had somewhat allayed these serious apprehensions, but the situation of Austria remained no less anxious and painful. As Prince Metternich has said in his curious Memoirs: "The so-called Peace of Vienna had enclosed the Empire in an iron circle, cutting off its communication with the Adriatic, and surrounding it from Brody, on the extreme northeast, towards Russia, to the southeastern frontiers toward the Ottoman Empire, with a row of states under Napoleon's rule, or under his direct influence. The Empire, as if caught in a vice, was not free to move in any direction; moreover, the conqueror had done all he could to prevent the defeated nation from renewing its strength; a secret article of the treaty of peace established one hundred and fifty thousand men as the maximum force of the Austrian army."
A still darker danger threatened the throne of the Hapsburgs; namely, the marriage, which was thought very probable and very near, of Napoleon with the sister of the Czar. Thus imprisoned between two vast empires, between that of the East and that of the West, as if between hammer and anvil, what would become of Austria, shorn of its territory and its strength?
There was but one chance, and a very faint one, of any defence against the dangers that threatened Austria, and that was, that the Viennese court might make the match which the Russian court was contemplating. Already, its matrimonial alliances had brought the country good fortune more than once, and it could not forget the famous maxim expressed in a Latin line—
"Bella gerant alii; tu felix Austria, nube!""Let others wage war; do you, happy Austria, marry!"
The last campaigns had been unfavorable to the Hapsburg dynasty; a marriage would set things to right.
At Vienna a party which may be called the peace party had come to power. Mr. von Stadion, a statesman of warlike tendencies, had been succeeded in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by a young and brilliant diplomatist, Count Metternich. The new minister had been ambassador to Paris before the campaign of Wagram, and, while he had been unable to prevent the war, he had left a very favorable impression at Napoleon's court, where his success as a man of the world, as a great nobleman, had been very brilliant. He then, in the lifetime of his father, Prince Metternich, bore only the title of Count. In his desire to attest his belief in the possibility of a reconciliation between Austria and Napoleon, he had left his wife, Countess Metternich, in France during the war. When he came to power, he conceived a political plan which was founded, temporarily at least, if not finally, on a French alliance. But to secure all the benefits which he hoped to get from it, Napoleon's marriage with an Austrian princess was necessary; and Metternich, who was aware of the negotiations between the French and Russian courts, was not inclined to believe in the possibility of a marriage between an Austrian Archduchess and the hero of Wagram. Neither before nor after the conclusion of the Treaty of Vienna was a word spoken about this plan, either by Napoleon or by the Austrian court.
The Emperor of the French had absolutely decided on a divorce; but he still thought that it was the Grand Duchess Anne, sister of the Emperor Alexander of Russia, who was going to succeed Josephine. On the occasion of the interview at Erfurt he had spoken of this marriage, and the Czar appeared to be most favorable to the plan. November 22, 1809, the Duke of Cadore, Minister of Foreign Affairs, forwarded this despatch to the Duke of Vicenza, French Ambassador at Saint Petersburg: "Rumors of the divorce reached the ears of the Emperor Alexander at Erfurt, and he spoke to the Emperor on the subject, saying that his, sister Anne was at his disposition. His Majesty desires you to broach the subject frankly and simply with the Emperor Alexander, and to address him in these terms: 'Sire, I have reason to think that the Emperor, urged by the whole of France, is making ready for a divorce. May I ask what may be counted on in regard of your sister? Will not Your Majesty consider the question for two days and then give me a frank reply, not as to the French Ambassador, but as to a person interested in the two families? I am not making a formal demand, but rather requesting the expression of your intentions. I venture, Sire, upon this step, because I am so accustomed to say what I think to Your Majesty that I have no fear of compromising myself.'
"You will not mention the subject to M. de Romanzoff on any pretext whatsoever, and when you shall have had this conversation with the Emperor Alexander, and shall have received his answer two days later, you will entirely forget this communication that I am making. You will, in addition, inform me concerning the qualities of the young Princess, and especially when she may be expected to become a mother; for in the present state of affairs, six months' difference is of great importance. I need not recommend to Your Excellency the most complete secrecy; you know what you owe to the Emperor in this respect."
At that time couriers took two weeks to go from Paris to Saint Petersburg, and the answer to the despatch of November 22 had not yet arrived when Napoleon, who did not yet know who his second wife was to be, announced to Josephine, November 30, that divorce was inevitable. The unhappy Empress received for the last time at the Tuileries, which she was to leave forever, in the morning of December 16. The reception was drawing to an end. Among those who were waiting on the grand staircase or in the vestibule for their carriages to be announced, there happened to be standing together M. de Sémonville, a young man of some prominence in the court, and M. de Floret, a young secretary of the Austrian legation. Everybody imagined then that the marriage with the Grand Duchess of Russia was settled. Suddenly, in this crowd of great personages, M. de Sémonville began the following conversation with the Austrian diplomatist:—
"Well, that's fixed. Why didn'tyoudo it?"
"Who says that we didn't want to?"
"People think so. Are they wrong?"
"Perhaps."
"What? It would be possible? You may think so; but the Ambassador?"
"I will answer for Prince Schwarzenberg."
"But Count Metternich?"
"There is no difficulty about him."
"But the Emperor?"
"Or about him, either."
"And the Empress, who hates us?"
"You don't know her; she is ambitious, and could be persuaded."
M. de Sémonville started at once to report this curious conversation to his friend, the Duke of Bassano, who at once hastened to speak of it to the Emperor. Napoleon appeared pleased, but not astonished. He said that he had just heard the same thing from Vienna.
This is what had happened in the Austrian capital: the Count of Narbonne had been passing through before going to Munich, where he was to represent France as Minister Plenipotentiary. This amiable and distinguished man, of whom M. Villemain has written an excellent life, had succeeded in attracting Napoleon's favor, and after receiving an appointment as general in the French army, he had been made ambassador and one of the Emperor's aides-de-camp. M. de Narbonne, who was a model of refinement and bravery, had been one of the ornaments of the court of Versailles and of the Constituent Assembly. He had been a Knight of Honor of Madame Adelaide, the daughter of Louis XV.; Minister of War under Louis XVI., in 1792; a friend of Madame de Staël; an émigré in England, Switzerland, and Germany; and in 1809, thanks to Napoleon's good-will, he had once more resumed his military career, after an interruption of seventeen years. Towards the end of the campaign the Emperor had sent him as governor to Raab, to keep an eye on Hungary and Bohemia, and in case Austria should refuse to accept the conditions imposed by her conqueror, to proclaim the independence of those two countries. The peace once signed, General the Count of Narbonne went to Vienna, where he met two of his best friends,—the Prince of Ligne, who had been one of the favorites of Marie Antoinette, and the Count of Lamarck, who had been a confidant of Mirabeau. One day when he was dining with them, and Prince Metternich and a few other intimate friends, the conversation turned to politics. The Austrian Minister congratulated himself on the peace, which, he said, made the future sure, and cut short all danger of trouble and anarchy. The Prince of Ligne expressed similar views. Then M. de Narbonne spoke out somewhat as follows: "Gentlemen, I am surprised by your recent astonishment and your present confidence. Is it possible that you are too blind to see that every peace, easy or hard, is nothing more than a brief truce? that for a long time we are hastening to one conclusion, of which peace is but one of the stations? This conclusion is the subjugation of the whole of Europe under two mighty empires. You have seen the swift growth and progress of one of these empires since 1800. As to the other, it is not yet determined. It will be either Austria or Russia, according to the results of the Peace of Vienna; for this peace is a danger if it is not the foundation of a closer alliance, of a family alliance, and does not finally restore more than its beginning took away; in a word, you are ill advised if you hesitate in your leaning towards France."
The next morning the Count of Narbonne was summoned to the Emperor Francis II., and the Austrian monarch indicated the possibility of a marriage between Napoleon and the Archduchess Marie Louise. The Count of Narbonne approved, and eloquently expressed his conviction that such a happy result as confiding once more an Archduchess to France would at last decide Napoleon to remain at peace, instead of forever hazarding his glory, and to work for the welfare of the people in harmony with the wise and virtuous monarch whose adopted son he would become. M. de Narbonne sent a note of this conversation to Fouché, to be shown to the Emperor, who thus had knowledge of the secret plans of the Viennese court six weeks before the meeting over which he presided at the Tuileries, to ask his councillors their opinion on the choice of an Empress.
Since the resumption of diplomatic relations between the two powers, the Austrian Ambassador in Paris had been Prince Charles of Schwarzenberg, the warrior and statesman who later, as commander-in-chief of the Austrian forces, was to deal such heavy blows to France. In 1810 he was all for peace, and his sole aim was to undermine, for the good of his country, the influence of his Russian colleague, Prince Kourakine. The Austrian Ambassador was very anxious that the Archduchess Marie Louise should become Empress of the French; for he was convinced that such an event would be of as much benefit to him as to his country. Yet he was still afraid to hope for the realization of his dream, when one of his friends, Count Alexandra de Laborde—who, after serving as an émigré, in the Austrian army, had returned to France and been appointed Master of Requests in the Council of State, encouraged him in his ideas which might at first have seemed fanciful, M. de Laborde, whose father had been court-banker before the Revolution, and had most generously aided Marie Antoinette, was well known and much liked in Vienna. In this matter of the marriage of Marie Louise he was the secret agent between Napoleon's Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Prince of Schwarzenberg, in whom he kindled so much zeal in behalf of the French alliance that the Ambassador, as we shall soon see, signed the marriage contract of the Archduchess with Napoleon, even before he had received the authorization of his government.
December 17, 1809, nothing had been decided. Indeed, what seemed probable, if not certain, was the Russian marriage. That day—the day when there appeared in theMoniteurthe decree of the Senate relative to the divorce—a new despatch had been sent from Paris to Saint Petersburg by the Duke of Cadore, to demand a speedy reply from the Russian court, yes or no. The answer of the Duke of Vicenza to the first despatch, that of November 22, 1809, did not reach Paris until December 28. The Ambassador said that the Czar had received his overtures very amiably, but that the affair needed much discretion and a little patience. The Emperor Alexander, he went on to say, was personally favorable; but his mother, whom he did not wish to offend, refused her consent, and the Czar asked for a few days before giving a final answer. This delay vexed Napoleon, who nevertheless resolved to wait, although waiting suited neither his tastes nor his character.
In short, at the beginning of 1810, the matrimonial alliance with Austria was not settled. The initiative steps had not been taken by the monarch, the ministers of Foreign Affairs, or by the ambassadors. It is a curious and characteristic detail, that it was the divorced Empress, Josephine, who gave the signal. She summoned the Countess Metternich to Malmaison, January 2, 1810, and said to her: "I have a plan which interests me to the exclusion of everything else, and nothing but its success can make me feel that the sacrifice I have just made is not wholly thrown away: it is that the Emperor shall marry your Archduchess; I spoke to him about it yesterday, and he said that his choice was not yet made. But I think it would be made, if he were sure of being accepted by you." Madame de Metternich was much surprised by this overture, which she hastened to communicate to her husband in a letter dated January 3, 1810, which began thus: "To-day I have some very extraordinary things to tell you, and I am almost sure that my letter will make a very important part of your despatches. In the first place, I must tell you that I was presented to the Emperor last Sunday. I had only mentioned the matter in conversation with Champagny when I received a letter from M. de Ségur, telling me that the Emperor had appointed Sunday, and that I was to choose a lady-in-waiting to present me. In my wisdom I selected the Duchess of Bassano, and after waiting in company with twenty other women, among whom were the Princess of Isenburg, Madame de Tyskiewitz and others, from two till half-past six in the evening, I was introduced first, and the Emperor received me in a way I could not have expected. He seemed really glad to see me again, and glad that I had stayed here during the war; he spoke about you and said, 'M. de Metternich holds the first place in the Empire; he knows the country well and can be of service to it.'"
Then the Countess went on to narrate what the Empress Josephine and Queen Hortense had said the evening before at Malmaison. She had been received by Hortense while waiting in the drawing-room for Josephine to come down, and she had been much astounded to hear the Queen of Holland say with much warmth: "You know that we are all Austrians at heart, but you would never guess that my brother has had the courage to advise the Emperor to ask for the hand of your Archduchess." Josephine frequently referred to this projected marriage, on which she seemed to have set her heart. "Yes," she said, "we must try to arrange it." Then she expressed her regret that M. de Metternich was not in Paris; for if he had been, doubtless he would bring the affair to a happy conclusion. "Your Emperor must be made to see," she went on, "that his ruin and the ruin of his country are certain if he does not give his consent to this marriage. It is perhaps the only way of preventing Napoleon from breaking with the Holy See."
The letter of the Countess Metternich ended thus: "I have not seen the Queen of Holland again, because she is ill. Hence I have nothing positive to tell you concerning the matter in question; but if I wanted to tell you all the honors that have been showered upon me, I should not stop so soon. At the last levee I played with the Emperor; you may imagine that it was a serious matter for me, but I managed to come off with glory. He began by praising my diamond headband, and that everlasting gold dress, then he asked me a number of questions about my family and all my relatives; he insisted, in spite of all I could say, that Louis von Kaunitz was my brother. You can't imagine what effect that little game of cards had. When it was over, I was surrounded and paid court to by all the great dignitaries, marshals, ministers, etc. I had abundant material for philosophical reflections on the vicissitude of human affairs."
Nevertheless, in spite of the overtures which Josephine had made to the Countess Metternich, Napoleon had come to no decision about his new wife. One day when he had been working with M. Daru, whom he highly esteemed, he had the following conversation with him:—
"In your opinion which would be the better for me, to marry the Russian or the Austrian?"
"Neither."
"The devil! You are very hard to please."
"Neither, I say, but a Frenchwoman; and provided the new Empress does not have too many relatives who will have to be made princes and given a large fortune, France will approve your choice. The throne you occupy is like no other; you have erected it with your own hands. You are at the head of a generous nation; your glory and its glory ought to be shared in common. It is not by imitating other monarchs, it is by distinguishing yourself, that you find your real greatness. You do not rule by the same title that they do; you ought not to marry as they do. The nation would be flattered by your looking at home for an Empress, and it would always see in your line a thoroughly French family."
"Come, come! that's nonsense! If M. de Talleyrand should hear you, he would form a very poor idea of your political sagacity. You don't treat this question like a statesman. I must unite in defence of my crown those at home and abroad who are still hostile to it; and my marriage furnishes a chance. Do you imagine that monarchs' marriages are matters of sentiment? No; they are matters of politics. Mine cannot be decided by motives of internal policy; I must try to establish my influence outside, and to extend it by a close alliance with a powerful neighbor."
No answer had come from Russia, no official overture had been made to or by Austria; still Napoleon continued to believe, or at least pretended to believe, that his only difficulty was to make the best choice. The idea that two emperors and a king—without counting the other sovereigns on whom he did not deign to cast a glance—were simultaneously disputing the honor of allying their family with him, greatly flattered his pride. In fact, what he desired was the Austrian marriage; but he was anxious to keep his preferences secret, in order to prolong in the eyes of his principal councillors, an uncertainty in which his pride did not suffer. He convoked them to an extraordinary session, at the Tuileries, after mass, Sunday, January 21, 1810. The great dignitaries of the Empire,— Champagny, Minister of Foreign Affairs; the Duke of Cadore; Maret, the Secretary of State; the Duke of Bassano; M. Gamier, the President of the Senate; and M. de Fontanes, President of the Corps Législatif,—all took part in this solemn council. The relative advantages and disadvantages of the Russian, the Saxon, and the Austrian marriage were considered at great length. The Archtreasurer Lebrun and M. Gamier favored the daughter of the King of Saxony; the Archchancellor Cambacérès and King Murat, the Grand Duchess of Russia; M. de Champagny, Prince Talleyrand, Prince Eugene, the Prince of Neufchâtel and the Duke of Bassano, the Archduchess Marie Louise. Murat especially distinguished himself by his violent opposition to the Austrian alliance. Doubtless he was averse to the selection for Empress of the French of the granddaughter of Queen Marie Caroline of Naples, whose throne he was occupying. Napoleon remained calm and impassive. When the meeting was over, he dismissed the councillors, simply saying: "I shall weigh in my mind the arguments that you have submitted to me. In any case, I remain convinced that whatever difference may exist in your views, each one has formed his opinion only from a desire for the good of the country and devotion to my person." Thus it was that seventeen years to a day after a king of France who had married an Austrian archduchess had died on the scaffold, there was discussed the alliance of a new French ruler with another archduchess, the grandniece of the other.
Some time later, Cambacérè's, in the course of a conversation with M. Pasquier, then Counsellor of State, gave utterance to his regret at having failed to impress upon his hearers the superior advantages of the Russian alliance. "I am not surprised," he said; "when a man has only one argument to give, and it is impossible to give it, he must expect to be beaten…. And you will see that my argument is so good that a single sentence will show you all its weight. I am morally sure that in less than two years we shall be at war with the Emperor whose relative we do not marry. Now war with Austria causes me no anxiety; but I dread war with Russia; its consequences are incalculable. I know that the Emperor is familiar with the road to Vienna, but I am not so sure that he will find the road to St. Petersburg."
After quoting this conversation between Cambacérès and M. Pasquier in his admirable book,The Church of Rome and the First Empire, the Count d'Haussonville indulges in some philosophic reflections: "If it is curious to come upon this profound and accurate summary, compressed into a few clear and precise words by a man of remarkable sagacity dealing with a future still completely hidden, it is no less strange to think that the prospect of the Austrian marriage, destined to be so fatal to the Empire, should be suddenly discussed in a five minutes' talk between two men who met by chance on the steps of the Tuileries, at the very moment when the unhappy Josephine was about to leave this spot which had been so long her home. When we reflect on the course of all the following events, we may perhaps say that the fate of the Empire was settled in this eventful quarter of an hour; for if the Emperor had married the Grand Duchess instead of Marie Louise, probably the campaign of 1812, which Cambacérès foresaw, would not have taken place, and Heaven knows what part this unhappy expedition played in the fall of the First Empire!"
How insufficient is human wisdom, how false its calculations! This Austrian marriage which discouraged the bitterest enemies of the hero of Austerlitz, of Jena, of Wagram, this magnificent marriage which was to have been the safeguard of the Empire, proved its ruin. This great event which called forth abundant congratulations and outbursts of noisy delight was the main cause of the most tremendous and most disastrous war of modern times. If he had not blindly counted on his father-in-law's friendship, would Napoleon, in spite of all his audacity, have ventured to march to the Russian steppes, without even taking the precaution of reviving Poland? He himself has said it: his marriage with the Austrian Archduchess was an abyss covered with flowers.
January was drawing to a close; and while in Paris many people were beginning to regard Napoleon's marriage with Marie Louise as very probable, the young princess herself had no suspicion of his intentions. Count Metternich who, like his sovereign, had maintained secrecy about this delicate matter, wrote to his wife, January 27, 1810: "The Archduchess is still ignorant, as indeed is proper, of the plans concerning her, and it is not from the Empress Josephine, who gives us so many proofs of her confidence, who with so many noble qualities combines those of a tender mother, that I shall conceal the many considerations which necessarily present themselves to the Archduchess Marie Louise when the matter is laid before her. But our princesses are little accustomed to choose their husbands according to their own inclinations, and the respect which so fond and so well-trained a daughter feels for her father's wishes, makes me confident that she will make no opposition."
The same day, January 27, 1810, the Count Metternich wrote to Prince Charles of Schwarzenberg, the Austrian Ambassador in Paris, a despatch which proves that the negotiations concerning the marriage had not yet begun: "It is with great interest that his Imperial Majesty has heard the details which Your Highness has communicated to him in his last despatches, on the question of the marriage of the Emperor of the French. It would be difficult to form any definite conclusion from the different data that reach us. It is impossible not to see a certain official character in the explanations, vague as they are, which the Minister of Foreign Affairs has had with Your Highness. M. de Laborde's uninterrupted zeal, the remarks of so many persons connected with the government, all tending in one direction, and especially the very direct overtures made by the Empress and the Queen of Holland to Madame de Metternich, would incline us to suppose that Napoleon's mind was made up, as the Emperor said, if our August master should consent to give him Madame the Archduchess. On the other hand, the demands commonly reported to have been addressed to Russia conflict with this supposition. The question must, at any rate, become clearer shortly after the arrival of the next courier, if indeed not before then. So much has been said, that it is impossible to deny that an alliance with the Imperial House of Austria has entered into the designs of the French court. By following a very simple calculation and comparing the great publicity given to the alleged demand on Russia with the secrecy exercised towards us in this matter, we may possibly be authorized to suppose that at present their views tend in our direction; but probability is of very little account in a transaction of this sort to which Napoleon is a party, and we can only go on in our usual course, and the result, in one way or another, must inure to our advantage."
While the court of Vienna thus maintained a position of prudent and dignified reserve, Napoleon, annoyed by the delays of the Russian court, and now only anxious to have nothing more to do with it, impatiently awaited the despatches from Saint Petersburg. These arrived February 6, but they brought no satisfactory news. The first delay of ten days which the Czar had asked of the Duke of Vicenza came to an end January 6, but on the 2lst the Emperor Alexander had not yet replied. He said, to be sure, that his mother had withdrawn her opposition; but he combined the affairs of the marriage with the political negotiations concerning Poland, and doubtless in the desire of affecting Napoleon's decision, he let the matter drag, as if he wanted to be urged. The Duke of Vicenza also said in his despatches that, according to the physicians, the Grand Duchess was yet too young to bear children, and that since she was averse to changing her religion, she insisted on having a Greek chapel and Greek priests at the Tuileries.
Napoleon hesitated no longer. That same day he sent word to the Russian Ambassador, Prince Kourakine, that, being unable to accept a longer delay, he broke off the negotiation; and that evening he had the Austrian Ambassador, Prince Schwarzenberg, asked if the contract of his marriage with the Archduchess Marie Louise could be signed the next day.
The Austrian diplomatist had never expected that events were going to move at any such speed. He knew the favorable disposition of his court, but he had received no authorization to conclude the business. The general instructions which had been sent to him regarding the marriage were dated December 25, 1809, and they had not since been modified. These left the Ambassador free to discuss the question only in accordance with the restrictions which Count Metternich had thus formulated.
"1. Every overture is to be received by you in an unofficial capacity. Your Highness must take cognizance of it only by expressing your personal willingness to see how the land lies here.
"2. You will then make it clear, as if it were a remark of your own, that if no secondary consideration, no prejudice, influence the Emperor's decision, there are laws which he will always obey. His Majesty will never force a beloved daughter to a marriage which she might abhor, and will never consent to a marriage not in conformity with the principles of our religion.
"3. You will endeavor, moreover, to get a definite statement of the advantages which France would offer to Austria in the case of a family alliance."
When, in the evening of February 6, 1810, Napoleon's Minister of Foreign Affairs asked Prince Schwarzenberg if he was ready to sign the marriage contract at the Tuileries the next morning, the Ambassador was delighted, but surprised, and perhaps, for a moment, perplexed. If he regarded the instructions conveyed in the despatch of December 25, 1809, he certainly had no authority to sign anything. In fact, not merely did he not know whether the Archduchess had given her consent, he did not know whether she had ever been informed of the projected marriage. Besides, he had no information as to the way in which the Austrian court looked on the annulment of the religious marriage of Napoleon and Josephine by the officials of the diocese of Paris, who had acted independently of the Pope. Finally, he was not in condition to stipulate for any political advantage to his government as the price of the alliance. A timid diplomatist would have hesitated. But might not there arrive the next moment a courier from Saint Petersburg, bringing a definite answer from the Czar? Would Napoleon, impatient as he was and unused to delay—would he accept the slightest postponement on the part of Austria? Prince Schwarzenberg burned his ships; he said to himself that if his action were disavowed, he could go and raise cabbages on his estate; but if it were approved, he would be at the top of the wave. Abandoning then the customary slowness and scruples of diplomacy, he answered without hesitation that he was ready, and made an engagement with the Duke of Cadore, Minister of Foreign Affairs, for the next day, at the Tuileries, to sign the marriage contract of the Emperor of the French, King of Italy, and of Marie Louise, Archduchess of Austria. IV.
February 7, 1810, M. Champagny, Duke of Cadore, the French Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Prince Charles of Schwarzenberg, met at the Tuileries, and signed, without the slightest hitch, the marriage contract of Napoleon and the Archduchess Marie Louise. The text was a copy almost word for word of Marie Antoinette's marriage contract, which had been signed forty years before.
On leaving the Tuileries, Prince Schwarzenberg despatched a messenger to Vienna to announce the momentous news, which possibly would arouse more surprise than delight. "Count," he wrote to M. de Metternich, "in signing the marriage contract, while protesting that I was in no way clothed with powerad hoc, I believe that I have merely signed a paper which can guarantee to the Emperor Napoleon the determination already formed by my August Sovereign of meeting him half-way in negotiation on this subject. The despatches with which you have honored me made the course that I was to follow perfectly clear. His Majesty, as Your Excellency assures me, approves of my conduct by bidding me follow the same course; hence the marriage is an affair which my government naturally regards as one of the greatest interest, and one which it desires to see arranged. It will be evident to those who know the character of Emperor Napoleon that if I had shown the slightest hesitation, he would have abandoned this plan and have formed another. If this affair was hurried, it was because that is the way in which Napoleon acts, and it seemed to me best to seize the favorable moment. I have the most profound conviction of having been of service to my sovereign on this occasion; and if by any possibility I have had the misfortune to displease him by the course that I took in perfect sincerity, His Majesty can disavow it, but in that case I shall instantly demand my recall."
The next day Prince Schwarzenberg sent to Vienna one of his secretaries, M. de Floret, with this letter to M. de Metternich: "Paris, February 8, 1810. I send to you, dear Count, M. de Floret, who will give you an account of everything that has happened. You will soon see that I could not have acted otherwise without spoiling the whole business. If I had insisted on not signing, he would have broken the affair off, to treat with Russia or Saxony. I formally declared that I had full power to give the most positive assurances that the propositions of marriage would be favorably received by my court; but that if I was not ready to sign a contract, it was only on account of the impossibility in which my minister found himself of supposing that a matter scarcely touched upon should so soon come to a head. I beg of you, my dear friend, to arrange that there shall be no obstacle to this important business, and that it be arranged with a good grace…. I pity the Princess, it is true; but yet she must not forget that it is a noble deed to give peace to such good nations, and to give a guarantee of general peace and tranquillity. Floret will give you our records, and will explain it to you by word of mouth; we have not had time to have it copied. You will not object to this, inasmuch as we wish Floret to leave at once. Conclude this matter nobly, and you will render an incalculable service to our country."
At the diplomatic reception which was held at the Tuileries, February 8, Napoleon walked up to the Austrian Ambassador and said to him, in the most friendly way, "You have been very busy lately, and I think you have done a good piece of work." Prince Kourakine, the Russian Ambassador, was much annoyed at the turn events had taken, and did not attend the reception, under the pretext that he was not well. The evening before Prince Schwarzenberg had dined at the house of Napoleon's mother with the King of Holland, Louis Bonaparte, who was loudspoken in his praise of the Emperor Francis and the Imperial house of Austria. At the court of the Tuileries there was general satisfaction. Napoleon thought that he had never achieved a greater triumph. The messenger whom Prince Schwarzenberg had despatched on the day he had signed the contract, reached Vienna February 14. The populace had not the faintest idea of the possibility of a marriage between the Archduchess Marie Louise and the Emperor of the French; the Austrian monarch and M. de Metternich, in their anxiety to keep their secret, lest some opposition should manifest itself, had not breathed a word about the overtures made at Vienna by Count Alexandre de Laborde, and at Malmaison by the Empress Josephine. Neither the Viennese nor the Diplomatic Body suspected anything. As M. de Metternich put it, Count Shouvaloff, the Russian Ambassador at the Austrian court, was literally petrified. The English breathed fire and flame. The sudden outburst of a volcano would not have been more startling than this piece of news which came from a clear sky. The impression made upon the populace was one of surprise which amounted to disbelief. People stopped in the streets to ask one another if the thing was possible.
Marie Louise had given her consent more with resignation than with pleasure. Metternich recounts in his Memoirs his speech to Francis II.: "In the life of a state, as in that of a private citizen, there are cases in which a third person cannot put himself in the place of one who is responsible for the resolutions he has to take. These cases are especially such as cannot be decided by calculation. Your Majesty is a monarch and a father; and Your Majesty alone can weigh his duties as father and emperor." "It is my daughter who must decide," answered Francis II. "Since I shall never compel her, I am anxious, before I consider my duties as a sovereign, to know what she means to do. Go find the Archduchess, and then let me know what she says. I am unwilling to speak to her of the demand of the French Emperor, lest I should seem to be trying to influence her decision."
M. de Metternich betook himself at once to the Archduchess Marie Louise, and set the matter before her very simply and briefly, without beating about the bush, without a word for or against the proposition. The Archduchess listened with her usual calmness, and, after a moment's reflection, asked him, "What are my father's wishes?" "The Emperor," the minister answered, "has commissioned me to ask Your Imperial Highness what decision she means to take in a matter concerning her whole life. Do not ask what the Emperor wishes; tell me what you yourself wish." "I wish only what my duty commands me to wish," answered Marie Louise. "When the interests of the Empire are at stake, they must be consulted, not my feelings. Beg of my father to regard only his duty as a sovereign, without subordinating it to my personal interests."
When M. de Metternich had reported to Francis II. the result of his interview, the Emperor said: "What you tell me does not surprise me. I know my daughter too well not to expect just such an answer. While you were with her, I have been considering what I have to do. My consent to this marriage will assure to the kingdom a few years of political peace, which I can devote to healing its wounds. I owe myself solely to the happiness of my people; I cannot hesitate."
We shall now make some extracts from the despatches of Count Otto, the French Ambassador at Vienna in 1810, which we have found in the archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The documents, which have never been published, are well worthy of our readers' attention, and they throw a full light on the Emperor Napoleon's relations with the Austrian court. M. Otto wrote to the Duke of Cadore, February 16, 1810, that the news of the marriage was beginning to spread through the city: "Business people are much excited. Merchants are entreating me to tell them what I know. Couriers are despatched in every direction. In short, I have never had occasion to use more reserve than at this moment, when the real feeling of this nation, which has long been compelled to be our enemy, reveals itself in a way most flattering to us. The French officers who are returning from different missions assure me that they have found the same spirit in the army. 'Arrange,' they say, 'that we can fight on your side; you will find us worthy.' Every one agrees that this alliance will insure lasting tranquillity to Europe, and compel England to make peace; that it will give the Emperor all the leisure he requires for organizing, in accordance with his lofty plans, the vast empire he has created; that it cannot fail to have an influence on the destiny of Poland, Turkey, and Sweden; and finally, that it cannot fail to give lasting glory to Your Excellency's ministry. The news of the conclusion of this marriage will be received with tumultuous joy throughout the Austrian dominions. France and the greater part of Europe will share this joy. As to the English government, I do not think it possible for it to avert the blow which this important event will deal it; the national party will finally triumph over the avarice of usurers, the rancorous passions of the ministry, and the bellicose and constitutional fury of their king. All humanity will find repose beneath the laurels of our August Emperor and, after having conquered half of Europe, he will add to his long list of victories the most difficult and most consolatory of all,—the conquest of general peace."
The first feeling that prevailed in all classes of Viennese society, on hearing of the Archduchess's marriage, was, as has been said, one of surprise, which soon gave way to almost universal joy. Count Metternich wrote to Prince Schwarzenberg under date of February 19, 1810: "It would be difficult to judge at a distance the emotion that the news of the marriage has aroused here. The secret of the negotiations had been so well kept, that it was not till the day of M. de Floret's arrival that any word of it came to the ears of the public. The first effect on 'Change was such that the currency would be to-day at three hundred and less, if the government had not been interested in keeping it higher, and it was only by buying a million of specie in two days that it succeeded in keeping it at three hundred and seventy. Seldom has anything been so warmly approved by the whole nation."
M. de Metternich was most delighted, and took especial satisfaction in the thought that it was his work. "All Vienna," he wrote to his wife, "is interested in nothing but this marriage. It would be hard to form an idea of the public feeling about it, and of its extreme popularity. If I had saved the world, I could not receive more congratulations or more homage for the part I am supposed to have played in the matter. In the promotions that are to follow I am sure to have the Golden Fleece. If it comes to me now, it will not be for nothing; but it is none the less true that it required a very extraordinary and improbable combination of circumstances to set me far beyond my most ambitious dreams, although in fact I have no ambitions. All the balls and entertainments here will be very fine, and although everything will have to be brought from the ends of the earth, everything will be here. I sent the order of arrangements a few days ago to Paris; Schwarzenberg will have shown it to you. The new Empress will please in Paris, and she ought to please with her kindness and her great gentleness and simplicity. Her face is rather plain than pretty, but she has a beautiful figure, and when she is properly dressed and put into shape, she will do very well. I have begged her to engage a dancing-master as soon as she arrives, and not to dance until she has learned how. She is very anxious to please, and that is the surest way of pleasing."
The Austrian court did everything with the best possible grace, knowing that Napoleon set great store by the details of etiquette. Everything was exhumed from the archives which bore on the weddings of Louis XIV., Louis XV., the great Dauphin, the father of Louis XVI., of Louis XVI. himself. The old gentlemen of the court of Versailles, and especially M. de Dreux-Brézé, the master of ceremonies at the end of the old régime, were consulted at every step. Napoleon was very anxious that in pomp and majesty the wedding of Marie Louise should not only be quite equal, but even superior to that of Marie Antoinette, for he thought himself of far more importance than a dauphin of France. He was given what he wanted. Speaking of the Princess's escort, Count Otto said in despatch to the Duke of Cadore, dated February 19, 1810: "In order to give the part its full importance, the Emperor of Austria has appointed to it Prince Trautmannsdorff, who on all great occasions holds the highest rank in the kingdom. The Dauphiness had been accompanied by a nobleman of no very lofty position. Moreover, the Emperor has given orders to deepen all the tints: the suite of the Dauphiness consisted of six ladies-in-waiting and six chamberlains; the future Empress will have twelve of each. The Emperor will choose the most distinguished and best-known personages of the Empire for these functionaries, and the Empress has reserved for herself the right of naming the ladies most prominent for their old families and their position in society. In a word, the Minister has assured me that no pains will be spared to make the train most brilliant."
Points of etiquette kept the French Ambassador very busy. He wrote, February 21, 1810, to the Duke of Cadore: "In reading carefully the historic summary enclosed in Your Excellency's despatch, I found but few matters requiring comment, but these seemed to me of sufficient importance to warrant my calling your attention to them. They are as follows:
"1. Since the religious ceremony is the most solemn, it seems that it is here that the distinction between the Dauphiness and the new Empress should be most distinctly marked. The first-named sat in an armchair, placed in front of the altar, but without a canopy, the Queen Marie Leczinska, daughter of King Stanislas, having a place, under a canopy, between the King and Queen of Poland.
"2. The representative and personal rank of His Highness the Prince of Neufchâtel being much higher than that of the Marquis de Durfort, who held a similar position in 1770, it has seemed to me desirable to make the reception more formal. Count Metternich has given me complete satisfaction on both these points. He has told me that the Emperor would give the most positive orders to pay to the Empress of France the same honors that were paid to the Empress of Austria at the celebration of the last marriage. The canopy and all the paraphernalia of royalty will be assigned to the new Empress, and the Emperor will furthermore make a concession on this occasion which is without precedent in the annals of the realm: at table he will resign the first place to his daughter, and take the second place himself. Nothing will be left undone to give these ceremonies their full splendor and to show the interest with which these new ties are regarded here. The Emperor is so well pleased with this alliance that he speaks about it even with private persons who have the honor to be admitted to his presence. He loudly denounces those who led him into the last war, and asserts that if he had earlier known the loyalty and magnanimity of the Emperor Napoleon, he should have been on his guard against their counsels."
The Viennese, who in their amiability and fickleness closely resemble the Parisians, passed in a moment from an apparently deep-seated hatred of Napoleon, to the most unbounded confidence. The still bleeding wounds of Wagram were forgotten; every one thought of nothing but the brilliant festivals that were preparing. Smiles took the place of tears, and it seemed as if the French and the Austrians had always been brothers.
The French Ambassador wrote to the Duke of Cadore, February 21, 1810: "Since the 16th the whole city has thought of nothing but the great marriage for which the preparations are now under way. All eyes are turned on the Archduchess. Those who have the honor of being admitted to her presence are closely questioned, and every one is glad to hear that she is in the best spirits, and does not try to conceal the satisfaction she takes in this alliance. Funds continue to rise in a surprising way, and the price of food is falling in the same proportion. A great many people have found it hard to sell their gold. Never has public opinion spoken more clearly or more unanimously. A great many people who had hoarded their silver in the hope of selling it or of sending it abroad, are now carrying it to the mint, and consider the government paper which they get for it as good as gold. The stewards of great houses are ordering new silverware to take the place of that which they have had to give to the government. Every one shows a readiness to offer all his fortune, being convinced that after such an alliance the government cannot fail to meet its engagements."
The Viennese have a very lively imagination, and bounding from one extreme to another, they began to form visions of the Austrians waging wars of ambition and conquest along with the French. They fancied that their Emperor and his son-in-law would have all Europe at their feet. "The greater their enthusiasm about the French," wrote Count Otto in the same despatch, "the more evident the old animosity of the Austrians against Prussia and Russia. The coffee-house politicians are already busy with devising a thousand combinations according to which the Emperor of Austria will be able to recover Silesia and to extend his dominions towards the east. The disappointed Russians, of whom there are very many here, are much astonished at this sudden change. One of them was heard to say, 'A few days ago we were very highly thought of in Vienna, but now the French are adored, and everybody wants to make war on us.' Count Shouvaloff himself keeps very quiet. Sensible people do not share this warlike feeling; they want a general peace, and bless an alliance which seems to secure it for a few years. In their eyes even a successful war is a great calamity. Peace, too, has its triumphs, and this last negotiation is one of the finest known to history."
The officialGazette, which was eagerly read by a noisy multitude in the streets of Vienna, published the official announcement of the great news. The number of February 24, 1810, contained the following paragraph: "The formal betrothal of the Emperor of the French, King of Italy, and Her Imperial and Royal Highness the Archduchess Marie Louise, the oldest daughter of His Imperial and Royal Majesty, our very Gracious Sovereign, was signed at Paris, on the 7th, by the Prince Schwarzenberg, Ambassador, and the Duke of Cadore, Minister of Foreign Affairs. The exchange of ratifications of this contract took place on the 21st of this month, at Vienna, between Count Metternich Winneburg, Minister of State and of Foreign Affairs, and the Imperial Ambassador of France, Count Otto de Mesloy. All the nations of Europe see in this event a gage of peace, and look forward with delight to a happy future after so many wars." On the day that this paragraph appeared in the official journal, the French Ambassador wrote to the Duke of Cadore: "The Emperor loves the Princess, and is very happy in her brilliant good fortune. It is long since he has seemed so happy, so interested, so busy. Everything which furthers the sumptuousness of the festivals now in preparation is a matter of great interest to him, and all his subjects, with very few exceptions, share their sovereign's amiable anxiety."
The French Ambassador was beside himself with delight; he saw everything in glowing colors,—Marie Louise, the court, all Austria. His despatch of February 17 was full of enthusiasm. In it he drew with trembling hand the portrait of the August lady, and we may readily conceive the eagerness with which Napoleon must have devoured it: "Every one agrees that the Archduchess combines with a very amiable disposition sound sense and all the qualities that can be given by a careful education. She is liked by all at court, and is spoken of as a model of gentleness and kindness. She has a fine bearing, yet it is perfectly simple; she is modest without shyness; she can converse very well in many languages, and combines affability with dignity. As she acquires familiarity with the world, which is all very new to her, her fine qualities will doubtless develop further, and endow her whole being with even more grace and interest. She is tall and well made, and her health is excellent. Her features seemed to me regular and full of sweetness."
Even the Empress of Austria, who recently had been conspicuous for her dislike of the French, so that there had been felt some dread of her dissatisfaction, if not of direct opposition, thoroughly shared her husband's joy. On this subject, Count Otto, in a despatch of February 19, expressed himself as follows: "The Empress shows herself extremely favorable to this marriage. In spite of her wretched health she has expressed her desire to be present at all the festivities, and she takes every occasion to speak of them with delight."
The Ambassador carried his optimism so far as to look upon Marie Antoinette's marriage as a happy precedent. In the same despatch he wrote to the Duke of Cadore: "The names of Kaunitz and Choiseul are on every one's lips, and every one hopes to see a renewal of the peaceful days that followed the alliance concluded by those two ministers. They had both been ambassadors, in France, and in Austria, exactly like Your Excellency and Count Metternich." The French diplomatist's satisfaction was only equalled by the vexation of the Russian Ambassador. "The Russian coteries," added Count Otto, "are the only ones that take no part in the general rejoicing. When the news reached a ball at a Russian house, the violins were stopped at once, and a great many of the guests left before supper. I must observe that Count Shouvaloff has not come to offer his congratulations." The good humor of the Viennese grew from day to day, especially in business circles. The French Ambassador concluded his letter thus: "It is at the Bourse that public opinion has declared itself in the most amazing way. In less than two hours funds went up thirty per cent. A feeling of security established itself and at once affected the price of imported provisions, which immediately began to fall. Yesterday there was a large crowd gathered at the palace to see the Archduchess go to mass. The populace was delighted to see her radiant with health and happiness. Two artists are painting her portrait. The better one will be sent to Paris." Everything had moved smoothly without the slightest jar. "In the whole course of the negotiation," Count Otto had written, February 17, "I have not heard a word about any pecuniary consideration, or the slightest objection except as to the legality of the divorce. A mere word from me was sufficient to overcome that." Consequently nothing troubled the composure of the happy Ambassador.