The Life and Loves of Madame Recamier

It's my pleasure to welcome Cheryl Bolen to the salon today to discuss another salon keeper, the famed  Madame Recamier!

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The Life and Loves of Madame Recamier

The Duke of Wellington and Napoleon opposed each other not only on the battlefield but also for the affections of a certain beautiful lady. That lady, Madame Recamier, spurned both of these powerful men. Napoleon was so outraged, he banished her from France and her famed Parisian salon where authors and intellectuals—most of whom despised Napoleon—gathered. 

In an era when, as Lord Egremont said, “Women considered it a stain upon their reputation if they hadn’t taken a lover,” Juliette Recamier (1777-1849) went four decades without knowing a lover—not even the wealthy, much-older banker she had married at age 15.

Madame Récamier by Jacques-Louis David, 1800

Called a figid coquette, Madame Recamier directed her sensuous flirtations on virtually every man who came to her salon on rue du Mont-Blanc—and most of them became captivated by her beauty and voluptuous charm. Author and political philosopher Benjamin Constant said, “Madame Recamier takes it into her head to make me fall in love with her . . . My life is completely upset.” For the next fourteen months, he was tortured by his unrequited love for her. 

He was one of dozens over the years.

Lady Bessborough,  who was among the English aristocrats who flocked to Paris in 1802 after the signing of the short-lived Treaty of Amiens, gives this interesting account of meeting the beautiful Madame Recamier.

I must tell you [Lady Bessborough wrote to her lover, Granville Leveson Gower] tho’, a nasty and an indelicate story, but how distress’d I was at Mad. Recamier’s. We went there and found her in bed—that beautiful bed you saw prints of—muslin and gold curtains, great looking glasses at the side, incense pots, &c., and muslin sheets trimm’d with lace, and beautiful white shoulders expos’d perfectly uncovered to view—in short, completely undress’d and in bed. The room was full of men.

During her salons, Madame Recamier commonly reposed on a chaise longue—a piece of furniture which would later be named a recamier in her honor. A famed portrait by Jacques Louis David of her on her chaise longue hangs in the Louvre. 

The only child of Marie Julie Matton and Jean Bernard, the king’s counsellor, Juliette was born in Lyon, but the family later moved to Paris. During the Reign of Terror, she married Jeanne-Françoise Julie Adélaïde Récamier, who was 27 years her senior. Mystery surrounds the marriage. There is some credence that Recamier married to pass on his fortune if he should fall to the Terror. It was said he was very close to Juliette’s mother. Some suggested Juliette remained a virgin because Recamier was her natural father, but this has been discounted. 

As she neared the age of thirty, Madame Recamier finally fell victim to Cupid’s arrow when she fell in love with Prince Augustus of Prussia, a nephew of Frederick the Great. They met in the Swiss home of her friend, the famed Madame de Stael, who encouraged the romance. Juliette Recamier wrote to her husband to ask for a divorce, but at the time he was besieged with financial woes (he eventually went bankrupt). His response appealed to her sensibilities while telling her she could not have picked a worse time. He also expressed regret that he had respected her virginal susceptibilities. 

Writing years later about her lover, Madame Recamier said, “We were convinced that we were going to be married, and our relationship was very intimate; even so, there was one thing he failed to obtain.”

Prince Augustus of Prussia
by Franz Krüger, 1817.

Before the two lovers parted, they exchanged written promises. Prince Augustus wrote, “I swear by my honor and by love to preserve in all its purity the sentiment that attaches me to Juliette Recamier, to take all steps that duty allows to unite with her in the bonds of marriage, and to possess no woman as long as there is hope that I may join my destiny with hers. AUGUST, PRINCE OF PRUSSIA.”

Madame Recamier wrote, “I swear by the salvation of my soul to preserve in all its purity the sentiment that attaches me to Prince August of Prussia; to do everything that honor permits to dissolve my marriage, to have no love nor flirtation with any other man, to see him again as soon as possible, and, whatever the future may bring, to entrust my destiny entirely to his honor and his love. J. R.”

The Recamiers did not divorce, and Prince Augustus never married, though two of his long-time mistresses bore him eleven children. Ten years after he fell in love with Juliette Recamier, he had his portrait made standing in front of her portrait. 

Back in Paris, the Recamiers were forceed to sell their house on the rue du Mont Blanc, their silver, and Juliette’s jewelry. She suffered the losses with the same languid serenity that governed her life. By 1809, Recamier was once again in business but on a much smaller scale. 

Even though her circumstances were reduced, Madame Recamier’s salons were as popular as ever. Later she resided in apartments in a former convent, now demolished, at 16 rue de Sèvres in Paris.

It is believe she finally lost her virginity at age 40. Her lover was the 50-year-old author Chateaubriand. 

Her husband died in 1830. She lived another nineteen years before cholera claimed her at age 71. She was buried in the Cimetiere de Montmarte.

Resources

Herold, J. Christopher. Mistress to an Age: A Life of Madame de Staël. The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1958.

Lady Granville, The Private Correspondence of Lord Granville Leveson Gower, 2 vol., London, John Murray, 1917.

Written content of this post copyright © Cheryl Bolen, 2016.

A Salon Guest... Caroline Bonaparte Murat, Napoleon’s Treasonous Sister

Today it is my pleasure to welcome the estimable Shannon Selin with the twisting tale of Napoleon’s treasonous sister.

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Caroline Bonaparte Murat, Napoleon’s Treasonous Sister

Caroline Bonaparte Murat before the Bay of Naples by François Gérard

One tries to find redeeming features in Napoleon’s sister Caroline Bonaparte Murat, but they are hard to spot. Biographers have been quite unkind: “Caroline, with a baseness that makes her resemble some monstrous queen of antiquity, betrayed husband, brother, and country alike to slake the thirst of her unprincipled ambitions.” [1] French Foreign Minister Talleyrand was more generous: 

Madame Murat had the head of Cromwell upon the body of a well-shaped woman. Born with much grandeur of character, strong mind, and sublime ideas; possessing a subtle and delicate wit, together with amiability and grace, seductive beyond expression; she was deficient in nothing but in the art of concealing her desire to rule; and when she failed in attaining her end, it was because she sought to reach it too quickly. [2]

Fresh as a Rose

Maria Annunziata Buonaparte was born on 25 March 1782 in Ajaccio, Corsica. She was the seventh of Charles and Letizia Bonaparte’s eight surviving children, and thirteen years younger than her brother Napoleon, who was away at military school in France. Known as Annunziata as a child, as a teenager she adopted the name Caroline, in an attempt to appear less Corsican (her siblings also “Frenchified” their names).

Caroline’s father died a month before she turned three. When Caroline was eleven, Napoleon fell out with the Corsican nationalists and the family had to flee to France. Caroline had a brief taste of poverty in Marseilles, but Napoleon’s rapid rise in the French army soon put an end to that. Napoleon paid for Caroline to attend an expensive girls’ school at St. Germain-en-Laye, operated by Madame Campan, a former lady-in-waiting to Marie Antoinette. Hortense de Beauharnais, the daughter of Napoleon’s wife Josephine (whom the Bonapartes could not stand), was also at the school. Napoleon’s valet relates the following anecdote from a family dinner some ten years later: 

[Napoleon] had just received a letter from a prefect who told him that a man named Geoffrin had saved several workmen in a coal mine which had caved in. The letter was given to [Caroline], who could hardly decipher it. The Emperor, seeing his sister’s embarrassment, said, ‘Give it to Hortense; she will read it.’ In fact, [Hortense], holding the letter, read it quite fluently. [3]

Suffice to say that Caroline Bonaparte was known more for her cunning than her book-learning. In 1797 she met a similarly unintellectual character in the form of General Joachim Murat, a theological student turned cavalry officer who was on Napoleon’s staff with the Army of Italy. Murat was dashing, charismatic and good-natured, with a huge mane of curly dark hair, which makes him easy to recognize in paintings. Caroline was charming and pretty – “fresh as a rose: not to be compared, for the regular beauty of her features, to [Pauline Bonaparte], though more pleasing perhaps by the expression of her countenance and the brilliancy of her complexion.” [4] 

Joachim Murat by François Gérard, 1808

The two fell in love. They were married on 20 January 1800, after Napoleon gave his reluctant permission (he preferred instrumental marriages to love matches). Caroline was seventeen. Murat was thirty-two. The age difference did not prevent Caroline from trying to dominate her husband.

She was soon pregnant with their first child. A month before the birth, a bomb (the “infernal machine”) intended for Napoleon exploded in front of the carriage in which she was riding. Unlike Josephine and Hortense, who were also in the carriage, Caroline kept her cool. Her son Achille was born on 21 January 1801, followed by Letizia (26 April 1802), Lucien (16 May 1803) and Louise (21 March 1805). 

Caroline Bonaparte Murat and her Children by François Gérard, 1808

The Quest for a Crown

In 1803 Murat became the military governor of Paris. He bought the Elysée Palace and moved his family in. This did not satisfy Caroline’s ambition. When, in 1804, Napoleon crowned himself Emperor of the French and proclaimed his brothers Joseph and Louis princes of the Empire, Caroline was livid that her sisters-in-law – including Hortense, who was married to Louis – would have a higher status than she would. The evening of the coronation:

Madame Murat was excessively angry, and during the dinner had so little control over herself, that on hearing the Emperor address Madame Louis several times as ‘Princess,’ she could not restrain her tears…. Everyone was embarrassed, and [Napoleon] smiled maliciously…. 

On the following day, after a family dinner, a violent quarrel took place…. Madame Murat burst into complaints, tears, and reproaches; she asked why she and her sisters were to be condemned to obscurity and contempt, while strangers were to be loaded with honours and dignity? Bonaparte answered her angrily, asserting several times that he was master, and would distribute honours as he pleased…. The discussion ended by Madame Murat’s falling on the floor in a dead faint, overcome by her excessive anger, and by the acrimony of her brother’s reproaches. [5] 

Though Napoleon gave in and granted his sisters the courtesy titles of “Imperial Highness,” Caroline continued to try to wheedle a proper crown out of her brother. The Murats threw lavish parties for Napoleon and his entourage. They also procured mistresses for him. In 1805, they introduced him to Éléonore Denuelle de la Plagne, a beautiful eighteen-year old in their employ, whom Murat was bedding. In December 1806 Éléonore gave birth to Napoleon’s first child, Charles Léon Denuelle. Caroline was elated. The birth demonstrated to Napoleon that he was not responsible for Josephine’s infertility, and thus sealed the case for divorcing her, which Napoleon did in January 1810. When – two months later – Napoleon married Princess Marie Louise of Austria, he sent Caroline to the Austrian frontier to escort her back to Paris.

In the meantime, Caroline’s toadyism bore fruit. In 1806 Napoleon made the Murats the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Berg and Cleves, having carved a principality for them out of territory taken from Prussia and Bavaria. Conveniently, Caroline did not have to reside there.

The Grand Duchess of Berg…lived in great splendour at the Elysée-Bourbon Palace. Her beauty was set off by the most exquisite dress; her pretensions were great; her manners affable when she thought it prudent, and more than affable to men whom she wished to fascinate…. [S]he endeavored to make friends among the influential members of the Government who might be useful to her…. She wanted to secure her present position, and especially to elevate her husband in spite of himself. [6]

Her lovers included General Junot, who had replaced Murat as governor of Paris, and Clemens von Metternich, the Austrian ambassador to France.

In 1808, when Napoleon moved Joseph Bonaparte from the throne of Naples to that of Spain, he made the Murats King and Queen of Naples. Caroline emptied the Elysée Palace of its French state treasures and had them brought to Naples (to be fair, Joseph had liberated Naples of its best art, and later stole the royal treasures of Spain).

Though Murat wanted to preserve his royal prerogative, Caroline insisted on being consulted on all matters of importance. They often quarreled. When, in 1812, Napoleon entrusted Murat with command of the Grand Armée’s cavalry for the Russian campaign, Caroline governed in her husband’s absence. It was her finest hour. She impressed her ministers and officials with her sound judgement. During the march back from Moscow, Napoleon hurried to Paris, leaving Murat in charge of the army’s retreat. Murat abandoned his post and fled to Naples. Napoleon was furious. He wrote to Caroline: “The King of Naples has left the army. Your husband is very brave on the field of battle, but he is weaker than a woman or a monk when he is not in the presence of the enemy. He has no moral courage.” [7] 

Caroline Bonaparte Murat with her daughter Letizia by Louise Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, 1807

Betrayal

Though Murat rejoined Napoleon for the 1813 campaign in Germany, Caroline considered her brother’s defeat inevitable. She and Murat hoped to save their throne by allying with Napoleon’s enemies. On 11 January 1814, Murat signed a treaty with Austria. This guaranteed to him and his heirs the sovereignty of the territory he possessed in Italy. In return, he was bound to cooperate in the war against Napoleon. 

When Napoleon learned of this treachery, he said, “I was well aware that Murat was a fool, but I thought he loved me. It is his wife who is the cause of his desertion. To think that Caroline, my own sister, should betray me!” [8] 

On 26 February, Napoleon wrote to Joseph: 

It seems that the allies have not yet ratified the treaty with the King of Naples. Despatch by a courier, with the utmost haste, a letter to the King, in which you will frankly point out to him the iniquity of his conduct, offering to mediate for him if he will return to his duties. Tell him that this is his only hope; that if he takes any other course he must be destroyed either by France or by the allies…. Write also to the Queen on her ingratitude, which revolts even the allies. [9] 

It was no use. Napoleon lost and was exiled to Elba. The Murats remained in power in Naples. Murat, however, felt sorry about what he had done, He secretly entered into communication with Napoleon. When the latter escaped from Elba and returned to France in March 1815, he told his brother-in-law to maintain the Neapolitan forces in a defensive position. Napoleon hoped to keep the Austrians neutral. For this to happen, Italy (partly under Austrian control) had to stay neutral. Murat disregarded this advice. Thinking he could help Napoleon by starting a diversion, he foolishly led his forces into Italy. He was defeated in the Battle of Tolentino in early May. Murat retreated to Naples and said goodbye to Caroline. She was so angry with him (she still supported the allies) that he said, “If you see me alive, madam, pray believe it is that I have sought death in vain!” [10] She never saw him again.

Murat went to France, but Napoleon refused to see him. “Twice Murat betrayed and ruined me,” he later said. [11] Napoleon lost the Battle of Waterloo and was banished to the remote South Atlantic island of St. Helena.

Caroline surrendered to the commander of the English squadron that was cruising around Naples. He transported her to Trieste and handed her over to the Austrians, who kept her at the castle of Hainburg, near Vienna. Meanwhile, Murat made his way to Corsica, from where he tried to reconquer his kingdom. On 8 October 1815, Murat and a small band of followers landed at the Calabrian port of Pizzo. The locals proved hostile and Murat was arrested. On 13 October he was tried by a military tribunal, condemned to death and shot by a firing squad.

Miniature of Caroline Bonaparte Murat by Jean-Baptiste Isabey

Life after Napoleon 

Caroline took the name of the Countess of Lipona (an anagram of Napoli, or Naples). Her former lover, the Austrian Chancellor Metternich, tried unsuccessfully to obtain permission for her to settle in Rome near her mother and siblings. Instead, she was allowed to live in the castle of Frohsdorf, south of Vienna (Marie Antoinette’s daughter, Marie Thérèse, the Duchess of Angoulême, was a later resident there). Letizia Bonaparte, in any case, had no desire to see her daughter. When Caroline protested that Murat’s 1814 betrayal had not been her fault, Letizia replied, “If you were unable to influence him, you should nevertheless have opposed him. But what opposition did you make? Has any blood been shed? It is only across your dead body that your husband should have smitten your brother, your benefactor, your master!” [12]

Caroline’s companion in exile was General Francesco Macdonald, who, despite his name, was of Italian origin. He had been an aide-de-camp to Murat and was the former Minister of War of Naples. They may have married as early as 1817, though 1830 has also been suggested. Visiting them in Trieste in 1825, Madame Récamier noted:

The queen, whose skin was as fair as a lily, was still singularly pretty, almost retaining the brilliancy of her youth. She had grown stout; and, as she was not tall, her figure had not gained in elegance. She was animated in conversation; and, from her caressing manners, it was easy to see that, when she wished to please, she could exercise great powers of fascination.

Her intercourse with her daughter [Louise] was full of the most confiding tenderness. Her bearing to General Macdonald was affectionate, with a shade of authority. To her guests … she manifested a warmth and gratitude that proved, alas! how few disinterested marks of sympathy she had received since her misfortunes. [13] 

Caroline’s sons moved to the United States, from where they pestered her for money. Her daughters married Italian noblemen. The American actor René Auberjonois, who played Father Mulcahy in the film version of M*A*S*H, is Caroline Bonaparte Murat’s great-great-great-grandson.

In 1831, Caroline was allowed to move to Florence. When Letizia Bonaparte died in 1836, Caroline fought with her brothers over her mother’s estate. To keep the dispute out of the newspapers, Joseph turned his share over to Caroline. General Macdonald died the next year.

Caroline spent a good part of her later years trying to recover the money she claimed was owed to her by France. Although the French authorities found the claims bogus, King Louis Philippe – who, in his struggle against the legitimists, wished to flatter the enemies of the Bourbons – allowed Caroline to visit Paris to pursue her case. The American scholar George Ticknor encountered her there in January 1838. 

I spent the early part of the evening at the Countess Lipona’s, the name under which Madame Murat passes here. She is a very good-looking, stout person, nearly sixty years old, I suppose, and with ladylike and rather benevolent manners. She lives in good style, but without splendour; and, like the rest of her family, allows those about her to call her Reine. Prince Musignano [Caroline’s nephew] was there, and perhaps in the course of an hour twenty people came in, for it was her reception evening; but the whole, I suppose, was Bonapartists, for I happen to know that those who wish to stand well with Louis Philippe avoid her doors; a weakness on his part as great as that which, on hers, permits her to be called Queen. [14] 

Caroline Bonaparte Murat by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1814

At last Caroline was granted a pension of 100,000 francs. She had little time to enjoy it. On 18 May 1839 she died of stomach cancer in Florence at the age of 57. She was buried in the Chiesa di Ognissanti in Florence. There is a cenotaph to her and Murat in Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.

The final word regarding Caroline must go to Napoleon. On St. Helena, he reflected on her thus: 

The Queen of Naples had chiefly formed herself amidst great events. She had solid sense, strength of character, and boundless ambition…. She must naturally suffer severely from her reverses, more particularly as she may said to have been born a Queen. She had not, like the rest of us, moved in the sphere of private life. Caroline, Pauline and Jerome were still in their childhood when I had attained supreme rank in France; thus they never knew any other state than that which they enjoyed during the period of my power. [15] 

And Napoleon had the decency, in his will (he died in 1821), to thank Caroline, along with the rest of his family, “for the interest they continue to feel for me.” [16] 

References

1. “Prefatory Note” by W.R.H. Trowbridge in Joseph Turquan, The Sisters of Napoleon, translated and edited by W.R.H. Trowbridge (London, 1908), p. ix.
2. Catherine Hyde Govion Broglio Solari, Private Anecdotes of Foreign Courts, Vol. 1 (London, 1827), p. 456.
3. Louis Étienne Saint-Denis, Napoleon from the Tuileries to St. Helena, translated by Frank Hunter Potter (New York and London, 1922), p. 11.
4. Laure Junot, Memoirs of the Duchess D’Abrantès, Vol. I (New York, 1832), p. 256.
5. Paul de Rémusat, ed., Memoirs of Madame de Rémusat, 1802-1808, translated by Cashel Hoey and John Lillie, Vol. 1 (London, 1880), pp. 254-56. Madame de Rémusat’s account is undoubtedly coloured by her attachment to Josephine, who related part of this anecdote to her and who “could not but enjoy the vexation of a person who so thoroughly disliked her.” 
6. Memoirs of Madame de Rémusat, p. 488.
7. Memoirs of the Duchess D’Abrantès, Vol. VII (London, 1835) p. 391.
8. The Sisters of Napoleon, p. 291.
9. The Confidential Correspondence of Napoleon Bonaparte with His Brother Joseph, Vol. II (London, 1855), p. 327.
10. Caroline Murat, My Memoirs (London, 1910), p. 21. These are the memoirs of Caroline Bonaparte Murat’s granddaughter.
11. Barry O’Meara, Napoleon in Exile, Vol. 1 (Philadelphia, 1822), p. 134.
12. The Sisters of Napoleon, p. 293.
13. Isaphene M. Luyster, ed. and trans., Memoirs and Correspondence of Madame Récamier (Boston, 1867), pp. 240-241.
14. George Stillman Hillard, Life, Letters and Journals of George Ticknor, Vol. II (London, 1876), p. 127.
15. Emmanuel-Auguste-Dieudonné Las Cases, Memorial de Sainte Hélène, Vol. II, Part III (Boston, 1823), p. 157.
16. Letters and Despatches of the First Napoleon, Vol. III, p. 427.

About the Author

Shannon Selin is the author of Napoleon in America, which imagines what might have happened if Napoleon had escaped from St. Helena and wound up in the United States in 1821. She blogs about Napoleonic and 19th century history at shannonselin.com.

Written content of this post copyright © Shannon Selin, 2014

You can find out more about Napoleon's remarkable family in Life in the Georgian Court, now available to order worldwide!

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Jean Lannes, Duc de Montebello: The Death of an Emperor's Confidante

Jean Lannes, 1st Duc de Montebello (Lectoure, France, 10th April 1769 – Ebersdorf, Austria, 31st May 1809)
 

Jean Lannes by François Gérard

It seems that rarely a week goes by in which we do not have cause to visit France and hear a story from the shores of that particular nation. Today we meet another French character and hear a gruesome story from the battlefields of Aspern-Essling.

Jean Lannes was a man to be reckoned with. From humble origins he rose to the highest levels of military power and became a confidante and favoured commander of Napoleon, who made him Duc de Montebello in recognition of his efforts. The friendship between Lannes and the emperor was enduring and deep and when the end came for the Duc de Montebello, Napoleon was sharrered at his loss.

Lannes was a military commander to be reckoned with. Loyal, brave and a gifted strategist, on 22nd May 1809 he was engaged in the brutal battle of Aspern-Essling, with the French facing off against the forces of Austria in an attempt to cross the Danube. Napoleon's forces came under a barrage of heavy fire and he ordered Lannes to retreat back to the Danube island of Lobau in order to minimise the casualties falling victim to the Austrian efforts. 

In fact, as their opponents fell back, the Austrians opened cannon fire on the sheltering forces whilst on Lobau, Lannes was in the company of his mentor, General Pierre-Charles Pouzet. As the two men discussed the battle, a cannonball struck Pouzet in the stomach and killed him instantly. Reeling from the shock at watching his close friend die so violently before his very eyes, the dazed Lannes stumbled to the edge of a ditch and sat down.

As he gathered his thoughts, shrapnel from a second cannonball tore through his legs, smashing the knee of one and badly injuring the other. Although Lannes told witnesses that his injuries were not so bad as they seemed, he was unable to stand and was rushed for treatment to our old friend, Dominique Jean Larrey. So terrible were the wounds to the Duke's limbs that Larrey elected to amputate one, whilst dressing the injuries to the other, although he would eventually face the trauma of having that leg amputated too.

The tomb of Lannes

When news of the Duke's plight reached Napoleon, he rushed to his friend's side in a state of utmost distress. The devastated emperor embraced Lannes and those present noted that he  wept bitterly for his injured friend, perhaps counting the true cost of the disastrous battle. Under Napoleon's instruction Lannes was moved to the comfort of a house in Kaiser-Ebersdorf but there was nothing that could be done to save the injured man. Instead he lingered on for a week and, as dawn broke on 31st May 1809, Jean Lannes died. In death, Napoleon ensured that his confidante was feted and his body was interred at the Pantheon, where he rests to this day. 

Love, Loss and a Long Life: Juliette Récamier

Juliette Récamier (Jeanne-Françoise Julie Adélaïde Récamier, Lyon, France, 4th December 1777 – Paris, France, 11th May 1849)

Madame Récamier by Jacques-Louis David, 1800

We stay in France today though there are no prisons, battlefields or guillotines to hamper our path. Instead we are due an audience with Juliette Récamier, a fellow salon-keeper of considerable renown.

Juliette was born in Lyon to Marie Julie Matton and Jean Bernard, King's Counsellor. She received an exemplary convent education that ended prematurely when her father was promoted to Receiver of Finance and the family moved to Paris. Here the modest young girl continued her education, happy in her surroundings as discontent spread throughout the country. Her peaceful life was shattered when the Terror swept through Paris and her father was imprisoned; although he would survive the revolution due to the intervention of influential friends, he lost his job and much of his wealth.

At the age of 15, Juliette married a 42 year old banker and close friend of her mother, Jacques-Rose Récamier. The wealthy Récamier was immensely fond of Juliette and protective towards her and rumours spread through Paris that he was the girl's true father and had married her to ensure that she could be his heir should he fall victim to the revolutionary guillotine. Indeed, Récamier made no secret of his fondness for Juliette's mother and the marriage was never consummated, leading to speculation that Juliette had a physical confition that made intercourse too painful to attempt.

Juliette Récamier by François Gérard, 1805

In her new role as wife to the influential Récamier, Juliette became a favourite of Paris society and her salons were immensely popular with the literary and political circles of the city. Many of the male attendees to the salon found their hostess enchanting and developed strong, platonic attachments to her. Her greatest champion was François-René de Chateaubriand and he was a constant presence in Juliette's home, as were many former royalists who had survived the Terror. The monarchist flavour of her household brought Juliette to the attention of Napoleon and he watched her gatherings with interest, seeing them as a rallying place for those who would oppose him. Indeed, her closest friends were Henri-Benjamin Constant de Rebecque and , Germaine de Staël, outspoken opponents of the emperor.

Perhaps in an effort to gain or ascertain Juliette's loyalty, on several occasions she was offered the position of  lady-in-waiting to Joséphine de Beauharnais, rejecting the opportunity each time. Finally, Napoleon decided that he could delay no longer and, fearing the type of chatter that might be going on in the salon, he had Constant, de Staël and Juliette exiled from Paris. She travelled Europe before settling first in Italy and then with de Staël in Switzerland, where she met Prince Augustus of Prussia, with whom she fell deeply in love. Desperate to accept the Prince's proposal, Juliette asked Récamier for a divorce but the couple found themselves distracted by the loss of his fortune in a disastrous business deal and the divorce was never pursued. When Augustus returned home, Juliette was plunged into depression, though found some comfort when she and her husband adopted his orphaned niece, to whom both were devoted.

Prince Augustus of Prussia by Franz Krüger, 1817. The Prince stands before the portrait of Madame Récamier.

With her husband attempting to rebuild his financial affairs, Juliette returned to Paris in 1814 to resume her salons in somewhat circumstances. She took up residence at L'Abbaye-aux-Bois, where she continued to host visitors and became the centre of a literary circle of some renown. Récamier fell seriously ill in 1829 and stayed with Juliette until his death the following year, nursed to the end by the woman who had once been his teenage bride. Afflicted by failing eyesight in her later years, Juliette was heartbroken to hear of the death of Augustus in 1843 and she died six years later, a victim of cholera. This remarkable woman was laid to rest in Montmartre beside her parents and husband, her famed salons passing into history.

The Colourful Life of Charles XIII of Sweden

Charles XIII of Sweden (Stockholm,Sweden, 7th October 1748 – Stockholm, Sweden, 5th February 1818)

Charles XIII of Sweden by Carl Frederik von Breda 

Well, what a palaver we've had here as I asked the girl to spend Sunday dusting around the salon in preparation for today's visit - it's only right when you're entertaining a monarch, after all. Monday sees a return to Sweden to meet Charles XIII of Sweden, a man with an incredibly ambitious mother who has already graced the chaise longue!

Charles was the second son of King Adolf Frederick of Sweden and Louisa Ulrika of Prussia and as befitted his noble status, was awarded the title of Grand Admiral within days of his birth. A good-humoured and cheerful child, he had a distant relationship with his parents but was extremely close to his elder brother, Gustav and when that same sibling came to power following a coup d'état in 1772, he rewarded Charles' loyalty with the title of Duke of Södermanland. Initially unwilling to consummate his own marriage, Gustav was happy to pass the responsibility for producing an heir to his sibling and brokered marriage plans between Charles and Hedwig Elizabeth Charlotte of Holstein-Gottorp, though neither party was particularly enthused at the idea.

Queen Charlotte of Sweden and Norway, 1809

Although on civil terms, the Duke and Duchess of Södermanland lived separately and both had numerous affairs; indeed, Charles fathered a child with his mistress, Augusta von Fersen, cousin of Axel von Fersen, though both of the children he had with his wife died in early infancy. Charles' somewhat colourful private life gained him something of a reputation as an eccentric as did his interests in the occult and Freemasonry, as well as his reliance on mystics. He was easily influenced by family, lovers and friends yet served as regent without incident when Gustav III visited Russia in 1777. In addition, he proved himself brave and dedicated in military matters, distinguishing himself at numerous battles in the Russo-Swedish War.

Despite his earlier friendship with his brother, when Gustav was assassinated in 1792 there were those who whispered that Charles, fired by ambition and the not always honourable influence of others, had known of the assassination plans and did nothing to prevent the death of the king. Certainly Gustav's death saw Charles propelled to power as regent until his nephew, Gustav IV, was old enough to take the throne. Though Charles was ruler in name, he was operated from behind the scenes by Privy Councillor, Gustaf Adolf Reuterholm, a fiercely ambitious character. Slowly the regent and Reuterholm began to reverse the decisions and policies of the late king, becoming increasingly reactionary and restrictive.

Gustav III (left) and his two brothers, Prince Fredrik Adolf and Prince Charles by Alexander Roslin, 1771

Charles lost his position as regent in 1796 when Gustav IV Adolf of Sweden came of age and a feud developed between the new king and the Duke and Duchess of Södermanland. Gustav IV himself  would fall from power in 1809 after a series of poor decisions during the Napoleonic Wars and suddenly Charles found himself the man of the moment once more.

He was named named regent once more and then elected king by the Riksdag of the Estates, though he was subject to a new constitution that drastically reduced his power. However, he had lost his appetite for rule and in 1810 handed over control of policy to Crown Prince Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte, whom Charles adopted as he was without a natural heir. With the Union of Sweden and Norway in 1814 Charles also became King Carl II of Norway, happy to leave the matter of governing his realm to the Crown Prince as he had in Sweden. 

Charles XIV John as Crown Prince of Sweden by François Gérard, 1811

His health deteriorating, Charles lived a quiet life with his wife, content to remove himself from affairs of state. The last king of the house of Holstein-Gottorp died in 1818, leaving Bernadotte to follow Charles on the thrones of Sweden and Norway.

Life in the Georgian Court, true tales of 18th century royalty, is available at the links below.

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Stéphanie de Beauharnais, Grand Duchess of Baden: In Search of Destiny

Stéphanie de Beauharnais, Grand Duchess of Baden (Stéphanie Louise Adrienne de Beauharnais; Versailles, France, 28th August 1789 – Nice, France, 29th January 1860) 

Stéphanie de Beauharnais by François Gérard, 1806

In the past few days we've soared into the clouds, delved into some deep thoughts and fought on the front line of the resistance with a formidable mother. For today's story we're taking a trip back to the Palace of Versailles in the days of revolution, this time to meet a woman who married to secure a Napoleonic alliance.

Stéphanie de Beauharnais was born at Versailles as the storm clouds of revolution gathered above France. She was the daughter of  Claude de Beauharnais, 2nd Count des Roches-Baritaud and Claudine Françoise de Lezay. Claudine succumbed to tuberculosis in 1791 and Stéphanie's father passed the responsibility for her care to Lady Bath, who devoted herself to ensuring the little girl had the best education possible. However, the French Revolution would touch Stéphanie personally and when her father's cousin, Alexandre, Vicomte de Beauharnais, went to the guillotine on 23rd July 1794, the child's destiny was changed forever.

At his execution, Alexandre left behind a widow in the figure of a certain Joséphine Tascher de la Pagerie, his wife of almost fifteen years. Never one to let events overtake her, within two years the widow was remarried, her new husband the near-legendary Napoléon Bonaparte. With Napoleon's profile increasing, Claude de Beauharnais was happy to capitalise on his influence and gladly let him assume the role of patron of the family, enjoying the prestige and wealth that came with such a connection.

Following Napoleon's coronation Stéphanie took up residence in the Tuileries. Beautiful, cultured and close to the most important man in France, Stéphanie enjoyed the best of everything. Her life was one of opulence and privilege, but political dealings were afoot that would decide the young lady's future for her.

Charles, Grand Duke of Baden 

With an eye on securing his influence, Napoleon enthusiastically pursued an alliance with Charles Frederick, Elector of Baden and it was agreed between the two that this would be achieved via marriage. The elderly Elector produced Charles, his young, eligible grandson to satisfy his side of the match and Napoleon turned his eye on his extended, inherited family. With no legitimate children of his own, Napoleon decided that Stéphanie would more than fit the bill and swiftly adopted her, presenting her to the Elector and sealing the matrimonial deal.

Charles and Stéphanie were married in an elaborate ceremony in Paris on 8th April 1806 but for all its pomp, the marriage was destined to be an unhappy one. Utterly refusing to accept that he now had a wife, Charles promptly set up home alone in Karlsruhe and continued with his bachelor lifestyle, leaving his new bride to live alone in Mannheim. A furious Napoleon petitioned Charles Frederick to remedy the situation and he offered the couple the use of Schwetzingen Castle, but Stéphanie moved into the residence alone. Only the need to produce heirs finally drove the young man to reconcile with his bride, with the couple eventually having five children together.

Statue in Mannheim, Germany

In 1811 Karl became the Grand Duke of Baden with Stéphanie as his Grand Duchess; upon his death in 1818 the widow returned with her three surviving children to Mannheim. Here she enjoyed a new life as a highly popular society grand dame, devoting herself to her daughters and her love of intellectual pursuits. Finally able to live as she chose, Stéphanie held glittering salons and became a patroness of the arts, indulging this passion for the remainder of her life. 

Life in the Georgian Court, true tales of 18th century royalty, is available at the links below.

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