Days later, I left Plombières for Paris, where I immediately set out for Malmaison, Josephine and Napoleons home in nearby Rueil-Malmaison. I walked through the familiar, elegant rooms, imagining. At closing, I set out on foot for the village. I was in luck: the church was open. I bought a rose at the florist’s shop across the square and, once inside the empty church, stood before Josephine’s tomb. I’d gone to mass in the church of her childhood; this was the church of her death. Both were small village churches. In between she’d been crowned empress of the French in the cathedral of Notre-Dame of Paris. Overcome with a feeling Josephine might have called melancholy, I lay the rose
on top of her tomb, took a few swipes at the dust, and left. I knew I would return.
Preparing to write
The Last Great Dance on Earth,
the last of my Josephine B. novels, I spread out the maps once again. I wanted to visit Evreux, northwest of Paris, where Josephine was often obliged to live after Napoleon remarried. I longed to see the castle of Laeken near Brussels where she consoled her grief-mad daughter. I know the facts, but the facts are not enough. The places reveal so much more.
“I know the facts, but the facts are not enough. The places reveal so much more.”
An Interview with Sandra Gulland
“It was said that Napoleon’s manners were of the barrack room, and I think his taste in food was as well.”
There are so many wonderful details about food and drink in the books: Napoleon’s preference for Chambertin (oft described as “an undrinkable wine”), the rum-and-absinthe cocktail called pétépié, Barras’s Brussels biscuits and, of course, his extravagant dinner menu, to name but a few. Are there stories behind these and why you chose to include them? Were there any other “interesting edibles” that you came across in your research that didn’t make it into the book?
As often as possible, I try to use factual details. Napoleon did drink the red wine Chambertin (mixed with water), and I was delighted to find the actual dinner menu for one of Barras’s parties. It brought the elegance of the evening to life for me. Napoleon’s table manners and tastes were less refined than those of Barras, to be sure. It was said that Napoleon’s manners were of the barrack room, and I think his taste in food was as well. He preferred simple food and ate quickly, with his fingers. Speed seemed to be what he valued most. He liked chicken but hated to wait for one to be cooked. He would have his cooks prepare a fresh one every half-hour so that one was always ready for him. Chicken Marengo, which I didn’t mention in the diaries, is a chicken dish Napoleon came to be very fond of, one that was initially cooked for him after a victory when on campaign. From that time on, it was served after each victorious battle.
Each part of
Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe
begins with a quote, as in Part V: “We are sowing today in tears and blood. Liberty will be our harvest.”—
Napoleon to Josephine.
Did you feel that by including real quotes at the start of each new part you could gently remind your readers that these characters actually existed?
As a reader, I’m sometimes quite moved to see real-life documents and quotes in a fact-based novel. Part of the impact of this type of fiction is the realization that these people in fact existed, that the story events actually happened. By including quotes, I hoped that my readers would likewise be moved. Plus, as a writer of historical fiction, I myself am excited by these artifacts. In particular, what few words we have from Josephine reveal quite a bit about her personality as well as about her life. (I love what she wrote to Thérèse: “The Age of Fable is over; the Reign of History has begun.”) Napoleon too, is supremely quotable. If he were alive today, he would be a master of the TV sound bite.
Malmaison sounds absolutely delightful; you’ve described it and its contents lovingly through Josephine. Have you been to the Musée du château de Malmaison? Did any of your research take you to the other locations mentioned?
I find it essential to see the places I’m writing about. Researching Josephine’s life, I travelled to France, Martinique, northern Italy and Germany, visiting the places in which she stayed. Some were difficult to find, and all were surprising. I’ve been to the prison where she was held in Paris, attended mass at her family church in Martinique, had treatments in the mountain spa she frequently went to, seen where she was born and where she died. By going to the places where she lived, walking where she walked, looking out a window as she surely did, I began to feel Josephine come alive.
“Part of the impact of this type of fiction is the realization that these people in fact existed, that the story events actually happened.”
“By going to the places where she lived, walking where she walked, looking out a window as she surely did, I began to feel Josephine come alive.”
Josephine’s spirit is most clearly evident at Malmaison. It’s a beautiful home. As a museum, it has been faithfully restored. I highly recommend a trip there. For each book in the trilogy, I went to Malmaison at least once. In the offices or in the attic, rooms that used to house Josephine’s wardrobe, I would meet with historian Dr. Catinat and sometimes with chief curator Bernard Chevallier, two individuals who know more about Josephine than anyone in the world. I felt privileged to be there. No matter how many times I visited Malmaison, I never felt I got enough of the place. After each visit, I would walk into Rueil-Malmaison to the church on the village square, where Josephine’s and Hortense’s tombs lie. If the church was open, I would buy a rose from the flower shop on the square and place it on Josephine’s tomb. I’m hoping that more and more roses will mysteriously appear there over time.
There seems to be no other breed of dog than the pug in all of France! Was the breed the height of fashion, or is there another explanation for Josephine and “the Glories’s” fascination with them?
There were many types of dogs favoured by the aristocratic families of that era: Newfoundlanders and mastiffs (as guard dogs), spaniels, hounds for hunting—but ladies preferred small dogs like toy poodles and pugs, dogs that could charmingly be carried about in a travelling basket. Josephine’s first pug, Fortuné, was famous for his bad temper; he even bit Napoleon on the leg on their wedding night.
You are careful not to assume that readers know their Napoleonic history. For many, your books may serve as a primer for Napoleon’s battles and for this period in history in general. How did you go about weaving historical fact into the fiction?
What helped, I suspect, were my years of experience as a book editor. I am not knowledgeable about history; I learned a great deal researching the trilogy, but it was all new to me. I know what it feels like to be confused by it all, so perhaps that’s what helped me to present the historical information in a way that I hoped would be clear to a reader who knew nothing about the period. At the same time, I didn’t want to bore readers who knew a great deal about Napoleonic history. It’s a difficult balance.
You provide hints of Napoleon’s barbarism through Eugène’s horrific experience in battle. Did Eugène really deliver heads to the Pasha? Is there reason to believe that Josephine knew very little about his exploits on the battlefield?
“Josephine’s first pug, Fortuné, was famous for his bad temper; he even bit Napoleon on the leg on their wedding night.”
As with war today, the news received back home tends to be sanitized. Napoleon was very careful about what was reported in the papers. However, Josephine likely knew more than the average citizen. According to my research, Eugène did have to deliver heads to the Pasha, but what we perceive as “barbarism” was not necessarily viewed in that light at the time. Remember: public executions were considered entertainment.
Napoleon,
Vincent Cronin
Napoleon’s Viceroy: Eugène de Beauharnais,
Carola Oman
Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution,
Simon Schama
Napoleon & Josephine: An Improbable Marriage,
Evangeline Bruce
The Rose of Martinique: A Life of Napoleons Josephine,
Andrea Stuart
More Than a Queen: The Story of Josephine Bonaparte,
Frances Mossiker
Napoleon and His Family: The Story of a Corsican Clan,
Walter Geer
To receive updates on author events and new books by Sandra Gulland, sign up at www.authortracker.ca
For more information on the author and the books in the series visit:
www.sandragulland.com
The
Fondation Napoléon
offers an impressive general interest site for the true enthusiast:
www.napoleon.org
For more on Josephine’s country home, Malmaison:
www.georgianindex.net/Napoleon/Malmaison/Malmaison.html
www.chateau-malmaison.fr
(in French only)
For a comprehensive historical timeline of Napoleon’s military accomplishments:
www.napoleonguide.com/timeind.htm
To view a digital library of Napoleonic satirical posters and caricatures, visit:
dl.lib.brown.edu/napoleon/index.html
For an interview with Sandra Gulland as part of an educational website for the PBS Napoleon series:
www.pbs.org/empires/napoleon/n_josephine/courtship/page_1.html
An Excerpt from the Third Book in the Josephine B. Trilogy,
The Last Great Dance on Earth
From Chapter One:
In which peace seems an impossible dream
March 2, 1800 – Tuileries Palace, Paris.
“Josephine … Come see the moon.”
I woke with a start. A man was nudging my shoulder, his face illuminated by candlelight. “Bonaparte, it’s
you,”
I said, clasping his hand. I’d been dreaming of home, of my beautiful Martinico, dreaming of the sea. But I was not on a tropical island. I was in the dank, opulent palace, in the bed of Marie Antoinette and King Louis XVI—the bed of the dead. I pressed Bonaparte’s fingers against my cheek. “What time is it?”
“Almost three. Come outside with me.”
“Now?” I asked, but threw back the covers.
“It’s a little chilly,” he said, draping a cape over my shoulders.
A full moon hung over the river, bathing the gardens in a radiant light. “It reminds me of something you once wrote to me,” I said, taking Bonaparte’s hand. “That we are born, we live and we die—in the midst of the marvelous.”
“I don’t remember writing that,” he said, heading toward the steps that lead down to the flower beds.
The fertile scent of spring was heavy in the air. Bonaparte brushed off a stone bench for us to sit on. I leaned my head on his shoulder, overcome with a feeling of longing. It is the season of renewal, yet I remain barren—in spite of love, in spite of prayers.
“I think best in the open air,” Bonaparte said. “My thoughts are more expansive.”
“A full moon hung over the river, bathing the gardens in a radiant light.”
“Before Bonaparte, everything was chaos, and now prosperity prevails and France is made whole again—I am made whole again.”
By moonlight, in profile, he looked like a Roman statue. “See those shacks down by the laundry boats? Every citizen should have a proper home—and clean water. I’m thinking of a canal system to bring it in. And more hospitals—there should never be more than one patient to a bed. And bridges across the river would be beautiful as well as practical. Imagine it! I intend to make Paris the most beautiful city of all time.”
“You will do it,” I said, with confidence. What could stop him? Already so much has changed. Before Bonaparte, everything was chaos, and now prosperity prevails and France is made whole again—I am made whole again. Not long ago I was a widow, a survivor of the Terror, a frightened mother of two children. Now I look upon my life with wonder, for everywhere there is abundance—of wealth, certainly, and even glory, but mainly of heart. As Madame Bonaparte—indeed, as Josephine—I have felt my spirit blossom. This intense little man I married has inspired me to believe once again in heroes, in destiny, but above all in the miracle of love.
It was at this moment that I found the courage to voice the question I have long been afraid to ask: “Bonaparte, what if …?” What if we can’t have a child?
An owl’s plaintive call pierced the night silence. “We must not give up hope,” Bonaparte said gently. “Destiny has blessed us in so many ways.”
Blessed me, certainly—blessed Hortense and Eugène, my fatherless children. “
You
have blessed us,” I told him truly.
Je le veux,
Bonaparte so often says. I will it!
If only he could will a child into being.
Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe
© 1998 by Sandra Gulland.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks.
EPub Edition © DECEMBER 2011 ISBN: 978-1-443-40354-2
Published by Harper Perennial, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
® is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.