#munich1805

[josefavomjaaga]

About her brother’s marriage, Hortense de Beauharnais relates in her memoirs:

[…] The Emperor once wrote to me from Vienna that he thought my son would make himself worthy of his high destiny. […]

Which, if I may chime in, is at least a somewhat daring assessment considering Hortense’s son is three years old at the time, with his greatest achievement so far probably being potty-trained.

[…] After the battle of Austerlitz, he asked my husband to have him sent to him in order to present him to his triumphant army and was refused.

At that time, he created the kingdoms of Bavaria and Württemberg, the Grand Duchies of Baden, Hesse-Darmstadt, Nassau and Berg... Back in Munich, he decided to marry my brother to Princess Auguste of Bavaria, the king's daughter. My mother, from Strasbourg, had gone to that city. She wanted me to join her there. My husband objected to this and caused me one of the great disappointments of my life.

Eugene was ordered to come from Milan without suspecting what they wanted from him [...].

Her memories regarding her own journey to Munich at least seem doubtful. The last sentence however is plain wrong. As we have seen, she herself in her letters had taken care of the fact that by late December, Eugène probably got jumpy whenever anyone as much as uttered the words »Munich« or »Bavaria«.

What is true: He had not heard any official word so far about this marriage that was secretely concluded and about which half of Europe apparently already gossipped. Napoleon of course kept his Italian viceroy informed about each and every detail of the campaign, but that was it. And Josephine had last written to him before she left Straßburg. Since then, nothing. We also have a complaint from Napoleon about a similar lack of correspondence in his regard (»Hey, empress. How about you deign to occupy yourself a little with your slaves, huh?«)

Josephine did write to her daughter however on December 11th in order to admonish her for spreading rumours:

I am very much surprised at the rumours you tell me about, which are attributed to LeRoy. Surely, if there was any question of your brother's marriage, you are the first person I would have told, and it would not have been my clothier that I would have taken as a confidant.

However, the miracle happened: Overjoyed with the news, Josephine actually took to the pen, apparently on December 28th, two days after Auguste had, sighing and in tears, agreed to marry this viceroy person. Or whomever.

Josephine to Eugène

Munich, this 7th of Nivôse [year XIV, that’s December 28, 1805. At least the French Empress still uses the official calendar.]

I have not written to you for some time, my dear Eugene, because I always wished to be able to tell you the news of your marriage to Princess Auguste: it has finally been decided, and the Emperor, by taking care to fix your fate in such an advantageous way, is personally giving us both further proof of his attachment. I cannot say too much in favour of the young princess: her exterior is pleasant, she may even pass for a beautiful person, but I am much less attached to her external qualities than to those of her mind and heart, since your happiness depends on the latter. You know, my friend, whether your mother's heart is occupied with this care, but on this side I think you will have nothing to desire.

So I will see you, my good Eugene. This will be a time in my life which I shall never forget; and if the future offers me some sorrow, the memory of the happiness I will have experienced through our meeting will help me to bear it all.

Farewell, my dear son; believe in my tenderness. How sweet it is for me to remember the tenderness of which you have given me so many proofs! I embrace you with the best of my heart.

However, it seems that this letter only reached Eugène together with, or inclosed in, another letter, written two days later, that’s on the day Napoleon would come to Munich. It read:

Munich, December 30, 1805.

My Lord,

Her Majesty the Empress charges me to write a second time to Your Highness to acknowledge receipt of his dispatch and to confirm to him the contents of my first one by which Her Majesty had ordered me to announce to him his marriage to the Princess Auguste of Bavaria.

Her Majesty instructs me to tell Your Highness that she is well and that she is very impatient to have the pleasure of seeing you.

I find myself very happy and honoured to be able to beg Your Highness a second time to accept the homage of the unbounded devotion and profound respect with which I am, of Your Serene Highness, the most humble and most obedient servant.

BOULANGER.

Monsieur … Boulanger? Well, he apparently was Josephine’s »inspecteur de poste«. So, you could say, Eugène’s first congratulant, and the one who first told him about the fact he was actually engaged, was in fact the postman.

Eugène was usually very indulgent with his mother, but this time he sent her a really long and whiny letter back.

The return of my courier has given me much grief and I love my good mother too dearly to hide it from her for a moment. I was already very distressed at not having received any news from her for six weeks. Is it not cruel, when you adore your mother, to remain for so long without a word from her, without even a word on her behalf? So I learned from the Paris gazettes that she had left Strasbourg, gone to Stuttgart and finally arrived in Munich. A thousand different rumours came to strike my ear: I did not believe any of them, relying entirely on the heart and tenderness of my mother.

Why should my hope be deceived? So today my courier came back. He had been sent: 1° to announce to my good mother the abundant kindness of the Emperor towards me; 2° to lay at her feet the tributes due to my mother on the first day of the year, tributes of sentiments which I am happy to repeat to her and which I feel very keenly. Well, the courier brings me the official news of my marriage and this news is officially announced to me by a postal inspector! Not a word from the ten thousand people who are with her and who would have fulfilled this commission with interest.

I am not grieved by the impropriety: it can only be and is quite involuntary on the part of my good mother; but what I cannot think of without the greatest pain is that I have been deprived for seven weeks of news of the Empress. It takes all my attachment to her august person to forgive her forgetfulness. Let only complaints be permitted to the most tender and respectful of sons.

Now, I could be mistaken, but this does not sound like the cheeriest of bridegrooms either … Maybe it’s a good thing that for now, the happy couple is still separated by the Alps.

But of course, that is about to change with Napoleon’s arrival in Munich.

[josefavomjaaga]

So, the Bavarian marriage is arranged, the bride has sacrificed herself, we have seen her reaction, that of the empress, of the bride’s father and stepmother … but it seems the most important person has not even been mentioned yet.

No, not the bridegroom. The bridegroom sat in Italy and received letters from Napoleon on a daily basis, dealing with all kind of matters and not mentioning any weddings at all. No, the most important person in this affair was of course the bridegroom’s sister! Who had taken an interest in this affair very early on, to the point where you have to wonder who of the siblings was about to get married:

Hortense to her brother, August 7, 1805, Saint-Amand

[...] If the Emperor's plan is carried out, you can hope to be happy in private; you can always think of your friends and love your wife, if she is made, as they say, to captivate a heart; think with pleasure of that moment; see it in a beautiful way and you will not be completely unhappy. [...]  

Hortense to her brother, August 30, 1805, Saint-Amand

[...] I had forgotten to tell you in my last letter that I had spoken to the Emperor about you; I told him how much you desired what would be agreeable to him and that, if you did not fulfil his views exactly, it would never be your fault; that you were very sad to be separated from him; that I would like you to be married. He replied that it would be necessary to find a little Parisian girl. I confess that this surprised me greatly, but I thought that perhaps he did not remember that he had spoken to me otherwise this winter and that he did not want to tell me about his plans. [...]

Hortense to her brother, November 9, 1805

[...] You know, no doubt, that I have seen someone who interests you. I needed to know how you were doing and I was happy to see someone who loves you and whom you love. She is very kind and interesting; there will come a time when the poor little girl will be very sad, but then I will take her under my protection, for she is really honest; she sees no one here, and if it were not for her little trip, she would have died of grief at not seeing you. [...]

Napoleon had told Eugène to break off an affair with some unnamed “young person”. It could be the actress Emilie Bigottini with whom both Eugène and Duroc had an affair and who came to see Eugène several times in Milan, according to Mlle Avrillion.

You know that there is always talk of your marriage; I think that, if there were a truce, this would be the time to do it; I have written something about it to Mama, but above all, that I should not be forgotten and that all the authorities should be put forward to bring me here; I cannot be refused and I would be too sad if I were to remain alone away from you at this time. Without vanity, I believe that there will be people who, if they are there, will be happy to have me and then I will bring you good luck. Think that you were not at mine and let us hope that yours will be happier. [...]

Vanity? Oh, please, who would ever accuse Hortense of that?

Hortense to her brother, 21 November 1805

[...] There is much talk of peace. There is also talk of your marriage and also of making you king of Italy: this is not news from Paris, but from M. de Talleyrand. The Emperor said to him one day, speaking of you: "How this young man has grown! Now he is in a condition to govern as well as I am."

Mme de Cetto came to see me last Monday.

That’s the wife of the Bavarian ambassador in Paris.

She spoke to me a great deal about the Princess Auguste, and how happy she would make her husband, that she was sure she would be happy with you too; that, if the Emperor still had the idea, it might soon be done; that she was telling me about it because she thought I should know. I told her that if she made you happy, I would love her with all my soul, that I knew they spoke very highly of her, and that I could not praise you more highly than by assuring her that, even if you did not love your wife, you would make her very happy. This is what I think. So, my dear Eugène, I asked Mrs de Cetto if the young person knew. She told me that she believed it; that when M. de Cetto had been in Bavaria he had spoken of you in front of her and that she had blushed. Her brother, whom she loves very much, is delighted with you; he talks of nothing else. So try to get used to this idea, to think about it a little.

I do hope that if you are King of Italy, this will not prevent you from coming to Paris often, because I would really curse your royalty. It is terrible, in our position, not to have a little ambition! [...]

Nope, no ambition. Not at all.

Hortense to her brother, 3 December 1805

[...] Are you coming to Paris? Are you going to Munich? My God, I wish I were a month older. There is a lot of talk about your marriage and everyone is rejoicing. [...]

Hortense to her brother, 5 December 1805

[...] I have seen with pleasure how much you are loved, everyone is very interested in your marriage.  [...]

Hortense to her brother, 30 December 1805

I must confess that I am very unhappy; I am going to make everyone angry and yet I will always be the saddest. The Emperor writes, on the 15th, to Louis; he asks him to have me leave at once, with Napoleon, for Munich. This invitation puts Louis in despair: he is a lost man, dishonoured if his wife leaves without him; to go and find her mother, her father-in-law, and perhaps her brother, all this is nothing to him. [...]

If, however, your marriage, about which there is much talk, were to take place in Munich, I might well rebel a little and I would urge you to go through Paris, for we would go together day and night; I would no longer have to be told that I am alone, for that is the only excuse that can be given. [...]

This last letter is, as far as the facts are concerned, plain wrong. I’m just not sure if Hortense here lies deliberately, or if it is some kind of misunderstanding. Fact is, there is no such letter from Napoleon asking Louis to send Hortense to Munich. Not even a trace of it. To the contrary, we have a letter by Louis to Hortense from the same December 30, in which he complains about not getting any news from the emperor, and eagerly demands if there’s any news about Eugène’s marriage:

I’m baffled that Eugène doesn’t know anything. I’m waiting for whatever he can share. He must not doubt that I wish him to have all the joy that can be found in a happy union. It is said that the princesse is charming […] This event must make you very happy. First, you will, as everything indicates, have your brother around for quite some time, and then you will see him happy.

This really does not sound like a husband begrudging his wife to see her relatives … When Hortense (spoiler alert) in the end really wasn't going to be at Eugène's wedding (because Napoleon had first wanted to have the ceremony in Paris but then in one of his last-minute decisions rather wished to have the wedding immediately, in Munich), she worked herself up over it to the point that Josephine found her seriously ill when she returned. Fact is, if there is anybody to blame for Hortense not going to Munich, it’s Napoleon, not Louis.

Sometimes I do wonder if sweet Hortense was playing with a full deck.

[josefavomjaaga]

So, on December 24, 1805, Duroc comes to Munich, charged with a personal letter from Napoleon to Bavarian elector Max Joseph. The letter reads:

Schönbrunn, December 21, 1805

I am sending my grand marshal of the palace, General Duroc, to ask Your Highness for His daughter, the Princess Auguste, to be married to my son, Prince Eugène. It is already several years since I desired the alliance with Your Highness, and, in the present circumstances, where several proposals have been made to me, I have remained faithful to the engagements I took at Linz with His minister Gravenreuth. I shall be very pleased to give Your Highness and His people this proof of friendship and esteem.

I charge General Duroc with taking on my part all the suitable engagements and arrangements for the abovementioned marriage, which I wish to see celebrated as soon as possible, at the very moment of general peace, which will undoubtedly be signed within a fortnight.

May Your Highness see in this desire, to have in my family a princess as accomplished as the Princess Auguste and to form such close ties with Your Highness, the most constant secret of my policy and the proof of the feelings of esteem and friendship which I have dedicated to him.

As is to be imagined, this epistle throws the small Bavarian court into serious turmoil. Particularly the elector’s family. As Michel Kérautret put it in his biography of Eugène: »Auguste weeps, the stepmother screams, the elector proclaims himself ill.« But this time, there’s no escape. It’s an official wish from an emperor. That’s as good as an order. So what now?

Max Joseph reacts as he always does: by getting a stomach ache and taking to his bed. And there, on the next day, he wonders how to let his daughter know that, unfortunately, she will have to take this horrible Frenchman whom her father had promised her she would never have to accept. As he really does not feel up to a personal discussion, and as both electress and electoral prince stubbornly refuse to break the news to the princess, Max decides to write her a letter:

If there was a ray of hope, my dearly beloved Auguste, that you could ever marry Charles [her cousin, the Prince of Baden], I would not beg you on my knees to renounce him; I should still less insist, my dear friend, that you should give your hand to the future King of Italy, if this crown was not to be guaranteed by all the Powers at the conclusion of peace, and if I were not sure of all the good qualities of Prince Eugène, and that he has everything it takes to make you happy.

Not sure when or how dear Max has acquired this certitude as he still has never seen or met the bridegroom. The true reason follows in the next paragraph:

Remember, my dear child, that you not only assure the happiness of your father, but that of your brothers and of Bavaria, who all so ardently desire this union. A proof that this marriage is a desirable one lies in the fact that Baron de Thugut [Prime Minister of Austria] who, unfortunately for our house, has retaken the governmental helm, has commenced by offering the Emperor's eldest daughter as wife to Prince Eugene. It grieves me to wound your heart; but I count on the love and devotion which you have always shown for your father, and the thought that you would not willingly embitter his last days.

Max was 49 at the time and convinced he would die soon (his brother had died at that same age). He would of course continue to live for almost another 20 years.

Remember, dear Auguste, that a refusal would make the Emperor as much our enemy as he is at present the friend of our house.

No pressure, petal, make up your mind, just remember that if you take the wrong decision we’ll all be driven out of town by that rogue Corsican with the many cannons.

Spare me the sorrow of an explanation which would be detrimental to my shattered health. Reply to me by writing or through your brother. Believe me, my dearest, that it causes me much pain to write to you in this manner; but circumstances which are more than imperious, and my duty to care for the interests of the country over which Providence has placed me as ruler, leave me no choice. God knows that I have only your welfare at heart, and that no one in the world loves you more than your faithful father and best friend.

The letter closed and probably sealed with many fatherly crocodile tears, there’s another problem: how to get that letter to her. Nobody wants to be the bearer of such dreadful news. In the end it’s prince Ludwig, Auguste’s brother, who performs the task of electoral postman. After all, he’s the only one in the family who has at least met the bridegroom.

Auguste, as for her, knows her duty – and her father. She answers him in writing:

My very dear and beloved father,

I consent to break the word which binds me to Prince Charles of Baden, notwithstanding the pain it costs me, if by so doing I can guarantee peace of mind to a cherished father, and happiness to a people depending upon him.

I put my fate in your hands; as cruel as it may be, it will be softened  for me by the knowledge that I will have sacrificed myself for the welfare of my father, my family, and my country. On her knees your child asks your blessing; it will help me to bear my sad fate with resignation.

Now, if this isn’t a cheerful young bride I don’t know what is!

The only person truely cheerful is the Imperial guest hosted in the Munich residence, empress Josephine. Duroc has not been allowed to talk to her before everything is arranged, but now that he has she is over the moon with joy. She immediately calls Ludwig to her rooms and presents him with a portrait of herself for having talked his sister into the marriage with Eugène. Ludwig can deny he did so all he wants, she will not even listen.

But these are not the last funny letters that will be exchanged concerning this wedding. Most of those quoted in this article are taken from A. Pulitzer, The Romance of Prince Eugène.

[josefavomjaaga]

Munich Residence before 1800.

-----

Empress Josephine reached Munich on December 5, 1805. In her entourage, apart from the various ladies-in-waiting surrounding Mademoiselle Avrillion, she also had fifteen cooks. She had been instructed by Napoleon to distribute vast quantities of gifts and to appear dignified, but to be as nice as possible. Clearly he wanted to expose the Bavarian court to a torrent of Beauharnais charm, and then the question of Eugène's marriage would settle itself in no time.

He had underestimated the Bavarian ladies' determination.

As French ambassador Otto had already written from Würzburg: "My greatest opponents here [i.e., at the Bavarian court] are the indecision of the Elector and the tears of the Electress." Electress Karoline still wanted to have her little brother Karl von Baden as bridegroom for stepdaughter Auguste. The latter had an inkling of how it would turn out, but was likewise appalled by the prospect of having to marry a mere Beauharnais:

Auguste to her brother Ludwig, Würzburg, September 30, 1805

I have suffered much, very much since you have been away ... tell anyone who wants to hear it, my sister did everything she could to prevent such a shameful union [...] I consider myself lost, even though the best of fathers gave me his word that it would never happen.

Just in time for Empress Josephine's reception, the Bavarian ladies had arrived back at the Munich Residenz. First impressions of each other were, as was to be expected, not very positive:

Karoline to her mother Amalie von Baden, Munich, December 9, 1805:

I can't go on, I'm done, sick with boredom and weariness. If this exclamation, in case my letter is opened, should shock the readers, I quickly add the plain truth: that I am not complaining about the Empress. She is a gracious, very obliging woman, full of eagerness to please, but her dignity demands that one must die of boredom with her.

One day later:

When I returned from dinner, a valet brought me a box full of things which she had already announced to me these days. Auguste received just as much: gold embroidered tulle dresses, lace. I also received a lace veil and a black lace dress, a robe de crepe brodée aux lames de couleurs, and Auguste in silver, a great many flowers and shawls and many things of various kinds [...].

Again three days later:

Yesterday at noon she came to me again and brought me a lovely dress of blue velour et tulle d'argent brodé en lames, all ready and in a cut she calls Hanoverian, also a bonnet with selected feathers. She tried it on me herself and then made me accept a simple Venetian necklace with an amethyst, which she wore around her neck and which I had clumsily found pretty. I have to constantly restrain myself from admiring what she's wearing because otherwise she'll want to give it to me right away.

But Parisian chic or not - Karoline was determined that there would be no marriage. Even if Josephine were to deliver the entire production of House Leroy in Munich!

As usual, there is no direct statement from Josephine. Only Napoleon remembers on Saint Helena how his first empress had been insulted by the Electress and Auguste's governess Madame de Wurmb during her stay in Munich, because there had been constant talk in her presence of Auguste's imminent marriage to Prince Karl of Baden.

Fortunately, after a chaotic journey, another lady arrived in Munich who was not known for her restraint: Caroline Murat. She wrote four long letters from Munich to her best friend Hortense (who was sulking at home because she had no husband in the army and therefore no excuse to go to Munich), which were published by Paul Le Brethon in the magazine "La Revue de France" in 1921 and which I unfortunately have not seen in full (@joachimnapoleon: have you?). In any case, she does not seem to have been gentle with the Bavarian court:

Electress: graceful despite enormous bust size

Auguste's little sister Charlotte: ugly but infinitely spiritual

Electorial prince Ludwig: deaf and stuttering, likes to talk about Italy

Auguste: drooping cheeks, "not too pretty" teeth, nature of extreme kindness, amiable, cheerful, very childlike but little spirit

Caroline's tone and her descriptions of the older princess were soon to change radically - once she understood that this lady was Hortense's future sister-in-law. And it was not long before that happened. The Battle of Austerlitz had already taken place on December 3, and the peace negotiations had been going on ever since. On December 24, 1805, just in time for Christmas Eve, Duroc arrived from Vienna. In his luggage he had a letter in which Napoleon, Emperor of the French, officially asked for the hand of Princess Auguste on behalf of the Viceroy of Italy.