I am generally not a sucker for a love story. See “Romance” under “Things Everyone But Me Likes”. Yet, I am and always have been captivated by the story of Napoleon and Josephine. The basic plotline is as follows, played out in a serious of passionate letters:
Napoleon Bonaparte, a young Revolutionary soldier, meets the unbelievably beautiful Josephine Beauharnhais, a widowed socialite and mother of two.
He courts her, eventually obtaining her hand in marriage.
Napoleon goes off to war. Josephine is home, lonely and bored. She takes on many lovers, and eventually Napoleon finds out.
He is heartbroken and angry and feels he must ask for a divorce, though he loves her still. Josephine convinces him otherwise. He never lets her live down her infidelity, but they move past this obstacle.
Napoleon is crowned Emperor, and in a touching ceremony, bestows the title Empress on Josephine.
They seem to be unable to conceive a child, a problem Napoleon blames on himself. The pressure increases for him to bear an heir.
They seem to be unable to conceive a child, a problem Napoleon blames on himself. The pressure increases for him to bear an heir.
One of Napoleon’s mistresses (he is the cheater now, still making up for Josephine’s adultery) has a baby by him, which he cannot claim legally. He then realizes he is able to conceive children after all and begins blaming the problem on Josephine.
He divorces Josephine and marries 18-year-old Marie Louise of Austria. Napoleon and Marie Louise conceive a son, Napoleon’s heir.
Napoleon is exiled to Elba. He and Josephine continue to write letters as they always had. She asks to be permitted to join him in Elba in the last letter she ever writes, dying before she receives his reply.
When Napoleon escapes and returns to Paris, the first thing he does is ask Josephine’s doctor what happened to her. The doctor tells him she died of a broken heart.
Napoleon dies. His last words are rumored to have been “France, the army, Josephine”.
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