Josephine appeared in Napoleon’s life in 1795 when he was starting off as a soldier. Six years older, she was looking for a man with prospects. It’s fair to say she struck gold with Napoleon; the future Emperor of France, perhaps, less so. It was, in the early days, a love match—for Napoleon at least.
Separated by his invasion of Italy, Napoleon makes his feelings clear: “Since I left you, I have always been sad. My happiness consists in lying with you. I constantly recall in my memory your kisses, your tears, your kind jealousy.”
During their marriage, and in between conquering most of Europe, Napoleon wrote 265 letters to Josephine. Josephine’s letters are in single figures—perhaps because as some argue, she was never in love with the man. Having got what she wanted, Josephine was too busy enjoying life, whilst her husband was fighting for the glory of France.
Eventually Napoleon suspected that all was not right:
“I had hoped to receive a letter from you, and your silence plunges me into a horrifying uneasiness. I beg you, do not leave me any longer in such uneasiness . . . How can you forget the one who loves you so ardently? For three days, I am without a letter from you, and yet I have written to you many times. The absence is horrible, the nights are long, tiresome, and insipid.”
Discontent turns to anger. 1796:
“I no longer love you. On the contrary, I detest you. You are a wretched, clumsy, rude woman. You do not write to me . . . you do not love your husband. What do you do all day, Mademoiselle? What important business takes up your time to write to your good lover? What affection suffocates and makes you forget the love, the tender and constant love that you have promised him. Who can be this prodigious new lover who absorbs all your moments?”
Campaigns in Europe and Egypt saw them drift farther apart. Josephine continued to ignore him, and Napoleon’s love turned to indifference. When Josephine realised she had all but lost her meal-ticket she sought her inner ‘Stepford Wife;’ it was too late.
Irrespective of fertility, Josephine's behaviour as described above gives context to Napoleon's rather cold letter shown in the previous post, and possibly shows Napoleon in a more sympathetic light. Having said that, Napoleon sacrificed both Josephine and the Countess Maria Waleskwa in the interests of real-politick.
In 1810 he divorced Josephine and put Maria on hold in Italy—in some degree of luxury—in the interests of a dynastic and more ‘respectable’ marriage. In his own words, 'I am marrying a womb.'
The lucky woman was Marie Louise, daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor and, ironically, the great niece of Marie Antoinette. Napoleon proved an attentive and considerate husband but the marriage was relatively short.
When her family saw which way the wind was blowing after his first exile to Elba, they made every effort to separate them. His defeat at Waterloo clinched the deal. Marie Louise, daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor and great niece of Marie Antoinette, did not accompany him in his St Helena exile. Her family made sure of it. Husband and wife never saw each other again.
For me, the end of a journey from a random page in The Letters of Napoleon The rabbit hole continues, if you find yourself intrigued by the relationship between Napoleon and Marie Louise. Alternatively try here. Wishing you a safe and happy journey.
2 comments:
Not too sure Marie was lucky, but at least her family spirited her away so she wouldn't be stuck with him.
If you're entirely passive as Marie seems to have been, luck doesn't have much to do with it or at least directly. Your fate is decided by others.
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