Chapter 20

Attempting a Dynasty

In This Chapter

Attempts on Napoleon’s life

Imperial ambitions

A childless couple

A political marriage

I n 1804, Napoleon became Emperor of the French. To some, this was a natural progression in a Europe that was traditionally ruled by emperors and kings. To others, it was proof positive of his insatiable ambition and arrogance.

In fact, Napoleon did not make the decision to become emperor lightly. It was the result of a variety of important factors, including plots against his life after he became the ruler of France in 1799. In the end, the decision would cost him a wife and do him little good in his relations with the other crowned heads of state.

In this chapter, I explain why Napoleon felt he had to become emperor. I also join with you in saying goodbye to Josephine and hello to Marie Louise.

Surviving Assassination Attempts

When Napoleon became First Consul in late 1799, he was the ruler of France in all but name, as the other two consuls had little real power (see Chapter 8). The French Revolution was over, and it was time to consolidate the ideals of that Revolution while attempting to solve the many problems that confronted France. Napoleon had become France’s leader largely because of his ambition and the fact that people recognized he was a man of extraordinary talent. A national hero, he immediately turned to the task of problem-solving. (In Chapter 19, I describe many of his reforms.)

Becoming the subject of royalist intrigues

Not everyone was pleased with Napoleon’s ascendancy, however. Some of the most radical Revolutionaries, called Jacobins, were not pleased with a military leader.

Of greater concern, however, was the desire on the part of many of the royalists to bring a Bourbon king back to the throne of France. Indeed, when Napoleon took over, the Count of Provence, who was Louis XVI’s oldest surviving brother (and the future Louis XVIII), wrote to Napoleon to congratulate him on his having ended the Revolution. The Count suggested that Napoleon might now bring him to the throne. Napoleon sent back a polite reply saying, in essence, “Thanks, but no thanks.” He pointed out that if the Count tried to return, it would be over the bodies of 100,000 dead French soldiers.

The point was taken, but the royalists were not about to give up. If they couldn’t work with Napoleon, they’d eliminate him altogether! This idea suited some of the other powers of Europe just fine, especially the British. Napoleon was wildly popular with the French people, so there was little hope for removing him by election or another coup. With those avenues closed, assassination seemed most logical. Many royalists lived in England, and it was there that they hatched their plots with the full cooperation and financial support of the British government.

One of the major conspirators was a man named Georges Cadoudal. He organized what today we may call a terrorist training camp for would-be assassins. Sheltered as Cadoudal was by England, Napoleon had no opportunity for a preemptive strike.

Ironically, Napoleon had been reaching out to the royalist exiles and allowing them to return to France. Indeed, it was his willingness to accommodate the hated old nobility that most outraged the Jacobins and made them inclined to kill Napoleon as well. To Napoleon, the left-wing Revolutionaries, with their history of violence (remember the guillotine!), were most worrisome.

Napoleon’s fears notwithstanding, the royalists were actually the greater danger. Several attempts were made on Napoleon’s life, and several other plots never came to fruition. But one attempt very nearly succeeded.

The “infernal machine”

On Christmas day of 1800, Napoleon and Josephine were going to see Hayden’s Creation. Joining them was General Jean Rapp, an aide-de-camp to Napoleon; Josephine’s daughter, Hortense; and Napoleon’s sister, Caroline. They were taking two carriages. Napoleon left in his, but last-minute changes in attire delayed the ladies, so there was a significant gap between the two carriages.

Along the way, Napoleon’s carriage passed a young girl watching over a cart containing a large wine cask. This was no ordinary wine, however. The cask contained gunpowder and broken rocks. It was, in fact, a very large bomb, known to history as the “infernal machine.” As Napoleon’s carriage neared, the fuse was to be lit and, “boom,” no more Napoleon.

Well, we all know it didn’t work out that way. Napoleon’s carriage raced by before the bomb went off, and Josephine’s carriage, which was just approaching, suffered only minor damage. Nine people were killed by the explosion, but what really exploded was the myth that a popular leader like Napoleon was safe, even in his own capital.

Recognizing the source of the problem

Napoleon was convinced that the attack had been orchestrated by the Jacobins and ordered a general crackdown on their activities. In August 1803, however, he came to realize his mistake. Georges Cadoudal, apparently tired of training assassins, decided to become one himself. He left the supportive safety of London and headed off to Paris. He was joined by General Charles Pichegru, an exiled royalist who had dreams of overthrowing Napoleon. The two men were convinced that France was just buzzing with discontented generals who were desperate to restore the Bourbons to the throne. I have no idea where they got that idea, but it was the basis of their plot.

There was one general, Jean Moreau, who they thought might possibly side with them, and the conspirators were determined to win him over. In this, if nothing else, they were successful. The idea was that several generals, including Pichegru and Moreau, would get close to Napoleon, pretending to give him a document, perhaps a petition for clemency, and then, at just the right moment, they would all draw out swords or knives and kill Napoleon.

Then — and this is very important to understanding what would follow — a prince of the House of Bourbon would magically arrive and be declared the new king. Just like that.

Frankly, it sounds to me like they’d had a bit too much cognac and read a bit too much Shakespeare. Such a plot had worked against Julius Caesar, but these guys never got the chance to try it out for themselves. And even with Caesar, it took a long civil war to find a successor. With Napoleon as popular as he was, what were those guys thinking!

Napoleon’s secret police got wind of the plot and rounded up all the suspects, who were soon executed. Cadoudal should have stayed in London!

Eliminating a Bourbon prince

Cadoudal’s plot finally convinced Napoleon that the royalists were the biggest threat to his safety. The particular folks involved in this plot had been executed, but there must have been a Bourbon prince involved too, who was still alive and well. Napoleon had tried hard to win over the old nobility and royalists (without going so far as to hand the country over to them), but it seemed they were not won over at all.

Napoleon was determined to send the royalists a message they couldn’t possibly misinterpret. He had no way to know just which Bourbon prince was involved in the plot (assuming that one was). What he did know was that the Bourbon prince Louis Antoine, the Duke of Enghien, was living in the nearby German principality of Baden and had sworn to bring down both the French Revolution and Napoleon.

French troops arrested the Duke, and he was court-martialed that very night. This action violated the territory of a sovereign country, even though the Duke was a French citizen who was, as it happens, guilty of treason. He was accused of conspiring with British agents, was known to have fought in armies against his country, and had sworn to bring down the current government. The latter two actions alone constitute treason. Found guilty by a unanimous verdict of seven officers, the Duke was executed.

The courts of Europe were outraged, and many people still consider this episode a major black mark on Napoleon’s career. His critics ignore the treasonous acts of the Duke and concentrate instead on the violation of Baden territory and the lack of credible evidence that the Duke was involved in any specific plot. On the latter, they certainly have a point; there was no evidence that Louis Antoine was involved in a specific plot to overthrow Napoleon.

The execution may have been a scandal to the courts of Europe (who, one suspects, would not have tolerated treason against themselves ), but the French people took it in stride. More importantly, it sent the desired message to both royalists and Jacobins; neither group would ever again engage in a plot to kill Napoleon.

Even so, the plots against Napoleon’s life emphasized the frailty of his rule. One bullet, and all he had worked to achieve might be lost forever. There was only one solution: dynasty.

Establishing an Empire

To establish a dynasty, Napoleon needed an heir to the throne. Throughout history, the traditional heir has been the eldest male son, but that wasn’t necessarily the route that Napoleon would take. For starters, he didn’t have a son! His eldest brother, Joseph, was a possibility, as would be offspring of his siblings. But he and Josephine were young and seemed likely to eventually produce a child.

Yes, I know. There’s a nagging question in all of this. You’re probably wondering, “How in the world would the people of France accept Napoleon, or anyone else, as emperor? After all, they just tossed out their monarchy and established a republic!”

The will of the people

The answer to that question is easier than you may imagine. Napoleon was already acting much like an emperor. In August 1802, the French people overwhelmingly voted to make him First Consul for Life with the power to name his heir. His “court” became a bit grander and his powers more centralized. Even diehard Revolutionaries had become convinced that a progressive Napoleon was far better than anyone else who was likely to come about.

Napoleon had other things going for him as well:

He was wildly popular with the people.

Everyone understood that whatever his title, he had risen to power based on his extraordinary talent and the will of the people.

After taking power, each increase in his position was submitted for a vote of the people, and he got results that most politicians only dream about!

For my money, Napoleon was already set. Why bother trying to become emperor? Because some people feared that the power to name his heir might disappear should disaster strike.

Plus, by 1804, the people of France were ready to have him move to the next step. The Senate voted to propose the idea to the people, and the people, in turn, voted overwhelmingly in favor of the idea. Napoleon would be the new Charlemagne, Emperor of the French. Moreover, he would be given the right to adopt a male heir if he didn’t produce one with Josephine. In one of those ironies of history, France would turn to an emperor to protect its Revolution!

Coronation

After the decision was made, planning the coronation became job one. The location was easy: Where better than the grand cathedral of Notre Dame? The famed artist Jacques-Louis David was commissioned to create imperial facades for the interior. Imperial symbols were chosen: the eagle for the empire itself, and the bee for Napoleon’s personal family symbol. (The eagle tied the empire to ancient Rome, and people believed that the bee tied Napoleon to the sixth-century Frankish King Chilpéric.) Other symbols were used to promote images of Charlemagne, the last truly great emperor to whom the Pope had given the title Holy Roman Emperor.

Involving the Pope

And speaking of the Pope, one of the major controversies of the coronation regarded the ceremony itself. The French Revolution had pretty much tossed the Catholic Church out of France. Napoleon had worked hard to reintegrate the Church into society while maintaining a strict separation of church and state. More than a few Frenchmen would be displeased to see Pope Pius VII involved. Not only did they remember the Church’s excesses in recent history, but they also understood that a Pope consecrating an emperor implies that the Pope is more powerful. (Charlemagne understood that and always regretted letting the Pope give him his title.)

On the other hand, most French were at least nominally Catholic, and the Pope’s involvement might serve to give Napoleon’s rule more legitimacy in the eyes of the other rulers of Europe. So the Pope was in, but not for the entire ceremony.

From the very beginning, it was understood that Napoleon would crown himself, thus avoiding Charlemagne’s mistake. Napoleon’s detractors like to say that he snatched the crown from the Pope, or that this was an act of unbelievable arrogance, but neither of those charges hold water. Napoleon was simply symbolizing that he was becoming emperor based on his own merits and the will of the people, not because of some religious consecration. The Pope knew about this move from the beginning and had no objection (not that it would have mattered).

The Pope did object to being present for the Imperial Oath, as that oath had Napoleon promising to uphold religious freedom. No problem. The Pope exited stage left prior to the administration of the oath.

Worrying Josephine

One person who did object to all this hoopla was Josephine. She understood that Napoleon’s becoming emperor was all about providing an heir to the throne, something she had not yet done. The “fault” in this matter, whether Napoleon’s or Josephine’s, was not yet known, but she could see the writing on the wall.

Another issue regarding Josephine was the fact that in 1796, she and Napoleon had been married in a civil ceremony. This did not sit well with the Pope, who refused to consecrate her as empress. The about-to-become imperial couple solved that problem by having Napoleon’s uncle, Cardinal Joseph Fesch, marry them in the church the night before the imperial ceremony.

Preparing for the big event

The rehearsals for the coronation were a real treat. Napoleon’s sisters were jealous of each other, and all were jealous of Josephine. His sisters had already been complaining to Napoleon about their various titles, or lack of titles, in the imperial family, and they objected to having to carry Josephine’s train. (I think Napoleon should have told them all to stay home, but Napoleon worked things out, more or less to their satisfaction.)

One very special person was missing from the ceremony. Napoleon’s mother, Leticia, so despised Josephine that she refused to attend her son’s coronation. Even so, Napoleon gave her the title Madame Mère (literally, “Madame Mother”), along with a bevy of servants and a pile of cash.

Becoming Emperor of the French

On December 2, 1804, massive crowds lined the streets of Paris. The imperial carriage went through the city, escorted by legions of mounted horsemen. Napoleon and Josephine, each wearing splendid coronation outfits (Napoleon’s included a wreath crown like that of the Caesars), entered Notre Dame Cathedral. Soon thereafter, Napoleon was crowned Napoleon I, Emperor of the French (see Figure 20-1). Later, he would add “King of Italy” and “Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine” to his titles.

After placing the crown on his own head, Napoleon placed it on Josephine’s, making her Empress of the French. It’s hard to imagine things getting any better. Napoleon is said to have whispered into his brother Joseph’s ear, “If only our father could see us now.” Indeed, Carlo would have been proud. But he may also have echoed his wife Leticia’s equally famous words (said sometime later), “If only this will all last.”

Seeking a Dynasty

Napoleon’s position as emperor established, he went to work continuing his reforms and winning his battles. But always in the background was the primary reason for becoming emperor to begin with: to provide an heir to the imperial throne and assure France — and the world — that, come what may, his legacy and his policies would continue.

Figure 20-1: This very rare period engraving shows Napoleon crowning himself Emperor of the French.

In 1802, Josephine’s daughter, Hortense, gave birth to a boy. The father (Hortense’s husband) was Napoleon’s brother Louis. This event appeared to solve the problem of succession, as Napoleon adopted the lad as his heir. For five years, all seemed well, and the issue of succession was seemingly safely behind them. Napoleon and Josephine ruled France and maintained a loving relationship (see Figure 20-2). But the boy died in 1807, moving the issue back to the front burner.

Figure 20-2: These rare ivory plaques by Noël depict Napoleon and Josephine at the height of their imperial time together.

Goodbye, Josephine

By 1809, it was clear that the reason for the imperial couple’s infertility was Josephine, not Napoleon. Napoleon had fathered an illegitimate child or two, most notably in 1809 with Marie Walewska (see Chapter 10). This fact, along with another foiled attempt on his life that year, caused Napoleon to give further, and more urgent, thought to the need for an heir.

Napoleon and Josephine had developed a loving and mutually supportive relationship. Napoleon’s soldiers saw her as their good luck charm; indeed, the entire nation did. But Napoleon was determined to have an heir to the throne, even if it meant divorcing Josephine. It is difficult to say when he came to that conclusion, but in the fall of 1809, he finally got around to telling Josephine. It was a dreadful scene that resulted in Josephine fainting. (Well, maybe she fainted and maybe she didn’t; it may have been an act of high drama!)

Napoleon felt that “France and my destiny” mandated the divorce, but he treated Josephine well. She got their home, Malmaison, as well as a palace in Paris and a château in Normandy. She retained her title of empress and, of course, kept her entire wardrobe. My wife is still jealous of her almost 300 pairs of shoes! He paid off her (surprise!) substantial debts and gave her a pension of 2 million francs a year. All of her homes were furnished in unbelievable style. She was, in short, an incredibly wealthy woman who would continue to play a role in French social and even political society. (See Figure 20-3 for an enduring image of Josephine as empress.)

Figure 20-3: This 19th-century snuffbox shows the beautiful Josephine as empress.

Moreover, Napoleon took good care of her two children, who remained loyal both to their mother and to Napoleon. The divorce was made final in December 1809, but the two never lost their affection for each other and kept up communication until Josephine’s death in 1814.

Hello, Marie Louise

The divorce taken care of, it was time for Napoleon to turn to a replacement. You and I may think that Marie Walewska would fit the bill. (I introduce her in Chapter 10.) After all, she and Napoleon were in love, and she already had a son by him. (And even if their illegitimate son couldn’t become emperor, a future son would fill the dynasty bill.) But Napoleon was concerned about a possible scandal, and in any event Marie was (1) married to another man and (2) only of the minor nobility. Napoleon quite understandably wanted to use this marriage to gain him not only a fertile wife but a meaningful political alliance.

The person that Napoleon and his advisors most wanted to be Napoleon’s new bride was the Russian Tsar Alexander’s 15-year-old sister, Anna. The political implications of this marriage would be mind-boggling:

France and Russia, already allies, would be sealed together by marriage, thus surrounding the rest of Continental Europe in a way that would be difficult to resist.

A marriage of France and Russia might well lead to a general peace. Even Great Britain, France’s staunchest enemy, might feel compelled to come to terms with France.

Alas, it wasn’t to be. The tsar wasn’t interested in that much solidarity with France. His family was still steaming over the execution of Louis Antoine, the Duke of Enghien, who was related to the tsar’s family by marriage. The tsar hemmed and hawed and eventually told Napoleon no dice, at least until the young girl was 18. That answer didn’t do wonders for Napoleon and Alexander’s relationship, but Napoleon, ever the pragmatist, immediately looked at other options.

The only other real option was Archduchess Marie Louise, the 18-year-old daughter of Emperor Francis of Austria (see Figure 20-4). This marriage was almost as good as a marriage to the tsar’s sister:

The Hapsburg dynasty was the oldest and grandest in Europe; a tie to that family could finally give Napoleon legitimacy in the eyes of the old regimes that still saw him as a usurper.

The ladies of that family were extremely prolific, a key element to consider.

Finally, a look at a map of Europe in 1810 will show what a formidable force any alliance between the French and Austrian empires would be.

Figure 20-4: A 19th-century miniature on ivory showing Marie Louise as empress.

Napoleon was convinced and sent word to an already supportive Austrian court. To them, it was a win-win situation. If Napoleon was to remain powerful for the foreseeable future, they may as well be on the winning side. And if he stumbled in Spain or elsewhere, Austria, at least, would be out of the line of fire and able to consider her options.

On March 11, 1810, Marshal Louis Alexandre Berthier stood in as proxy for Napoleon in a civil marriage ceremony in Vienna. The marriage took place during a massive round of parties, with each side seemingly happier about things than the other. (See Figure 20-5 for an image of the happy couple.)

Figure 20-5: This gilt snuffbox was pro- duced to celebrate the mar- riage of Napoleon and Marie Louise.

A few weeks later, a huge convoy escorted Marie Louise to Strasbourg. There, Napoleon’s sister Caroline took charge, and a French honor guard fell into place, along with French attendants of every description. At Compiègne, Napoleon met his new wife in the rain at the gates of the city. That evening, they had a quiet dinner and then retired to the business of providing for an heir.

The Austrians and their emperor, Francis, gained much from the alliance. In addition to giving Francis numerous awards, including Officer of the Legion of Honor, Napoleon granted Austria what today we may call “most favored nation” status. Trade increased, loans materialized, and prisoners of war came home faster than normal. Napoleon was always generous to his friends or those whom he needed; Francis met both criteria.

On March 20, 1811, Marie Louise gave birth to Napoleon-François-Joseph-Charles. Don’t worry, no one called him by that long name. He was known then, and is known now, by the title Napoleon immediately bestowed on him: the King of Rome. And if you still think that Napoleon was uncaring or completely obsessed with an heir come hell or high water, think again. The birth did not go well, and at one point the doctors informed Napoleon that they might have to choose between saving the child or the mother. “Save the mother,” was Napoleon’s immediate response. In the end, both mother and child were fine.

Napoleon’s quest for a dynasty was now fulfilled. He had a political alliance bound by marriage, a son who was the grandson of the Austrian emperor, and an alliance with Russia and Prussia. Except for those pesky Brits and that little matter in Spain (see Chapter 12), everything seemed to be going Napoleon’s way.