In vain were negotiations set on foot to make Lucien divorce his wife.  The attempt only produced exasperation, Joseph himself finally accusing Napoleon of bad faith in the course of this affair.  In the following springtime Lucien shook off the dust of France from his feet, and declared in a last letter to Joseph that he departed, hating Napoleon.  The moral to this curious story was well pointed by Joseph Bonaparte:  “Destiny seems to blind us, and intends, by means of our own faults, to restore France some day to her former rulers.” [279]

At the very time of the scene at St. Cloud, fortune was preparing for the First Consul another matrimonial trouble.  His youngest brother, Jerome, then aged nineteen years, had shown much aptitude for the French navy, and was serving on the American station, when a quarrel with the admiral sent him flying in disgust to the shore.  There, at Baltimore, he fell in love with Miss Paterson, the daughter of a well-to-do merchant, and sought her hand in marriage.  In vain did the French consul remind him that, were he five years older, he would still need the consent of his mother.  The headstrong nature of his race brooked no opposition, and he secretly espoused the young lady at her father’s residence.

Napoleon’s ire fell like a blasting wind on the young couple; but after waiting some time, in hopes that the storm would blow over, they ventured to come to Europe.  Thereupon Napoleon wrote to Madame Mere in these terms: 

“Jerome has arrived at Lisbon with the woman with whom he lives....  I have given orders that Miss Paterson is to be sent back to America....  If he shows no inclination to wash away the dishonour with which he has stained my name, by forsaking his country’s flag on land and sea for the sake of a wretched woman, I will cast him off for ever."[280]

The sequel will show that Jerome was made of softer stuff than Lucien; and, strange to say, his compliance with Napoleon’s dynastic designs provided that family with the only legitimate male heirs that were destined to sustain its wavering hopes to the end of the century.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XIX

THE ROYALIST PLOT

From domestic comedy, France turned rapidly in the early months of 1804 to a sombre tragedy—­the tragedy of the Georges Cadoudal plot and the execution of the Duc d’Enghien.

There were varied reasons why the exiled French Bourbons should compass the overthrow of Napoleon.  Every month that they delayed action lessened their chances of success.  They had long clung to the hope that his Concordat with the Pope and other anti-revolutionary measures betokened his intention to recall their dynasty.  But in February, 1803, the Comte de Provence received overtures which showed that Bonaparte had never thought of playing the part of General Monk.  The exiled prince, then residing at Warsaw, was courteously but most firmly urged by the First Consul to renounce both for himself and for the other members of his House all claims to the throne of France, in return for which he would receive a pension of two million francs a year.  The notion of sinking to the level of a pensionary of the French Republic touched Bourbon pride to the quick and provoked this spirited reply: