At the Petit-Luxembourg Napoleon occupied the former apartment of Moulin on the ground floor, on the right as you enter from the Rue Vaugirard. His cabinet was near a private staircase which led to the first floor, where Joséphine was installed in the old quarters of Gohier. The dinner was served at five o’clock, and the table was always set for twenty persons. Joséphine did the honors with her usual grace. If Bonaparte was tired, or absorbed, and refused to talk, no one felt neglected. Since the rude shock which she had received on the return of Bonaparte, Joséphine had conducted herself with so much tact that she had entirely regained her former place in his esteem. She was no longer loved with the same blind devotion, but she had become a very important element in the new Consular Court. By nature and by experience she was admirably adapted to serve her husband’s interests in rallying all parties and all factions to the support of the new government. The nobles of the old régime who had frequented the hôtel in the Rue Chantereine, such as Caulaincourt, Just de Noailles and Ségur, began to encounter in her salon at the Luxembourg men of the Revolution like Monge, Réal and Cambacérès.

No one was received except upon a written invitation, and formal notice was served by Bonaparte that the dress, or rather undress, of the ladies who frequented the Court of the Directory, would no longer be tolerated. In the Moniteur appeared a report worded as follows:

“During the month of December past there was a large assembly at the Luxembourg. When every one was in the reception room, Bonaparte ordered the servants to make a large fire. He even repeated this order two or three times. When some one made the remark that it was impossible to put more wood in the fireplace, he said, ‘That will do. I wanted a good fire because the cold is excessive, and these ladies are nearly nude.’” Advice to readers: decency is the order of the day; and decency in dress would bring in its train decency in morals.

For their trips to Malmaison, as for every other function in life, Joséphine has the rare faculty of being always ready, and ever submissive to her husband’s orders. Her hours of rest, of meals, of every kind, are arranged so as not to interfere with his work. As soon as his task is finished, Joséphine is always ready, at any hour of day or night, to eat, to go out, to start on a journey without previous notice, in a costume which becomes her, and is suitable for the occasion. She has constantly on her lips the same smile, which always seems natural, and never forced; her voice is ever soft and soothing, with her pretty Creole accent, which pleases the ear, and is like the caressing touch of a loving hand. To this man of thirty years, who has never known a home, who has always lived in an inn or a tent, she gives the delightful experience of a well-ordered and luxurious household, a touch of domestic life.

At this time Joséphine has no official rôle to play: she has no recognized place in the State; she is present on occasions of ceremony only as a distinguished guest, who looks on from window or balcony. She makes a point of seeming to exercise no influence over her husband, except in deeds of good-will. This is the real secret of her power, and she knows it. The day that she even attempted to direct his actions, her power would be lost. Bonaparte would tolerate no Pompadour, no Marie-Antoinette at his side. As for the rest, he cares little. She can have all the money she wants, to pay for her toilettes and her jewels, to settle her old debts; but political influence, never! Her indirect power, in the form of charity and social duties, receives his entire approbation, as it is directed to the same object which he himself is striving to attain.

In all her sentiments, Joséphine is a royalist, both from natural inclination and from reasons purely personal to herself. She has the most tender attachment to the name of the King, and the Ancien Régime. The reason is not hard to find. If Bonaparte plays the rôle of Monk and recalls the Bourbons, he will have at least the title of duc and peer, the dignity of marshal or constable of France, a great position at Court, and she will have the assurance of sharing his fortune and of never being repudiated. “Indeed,” remarks one of her historians, “how, in 1799, only seven years after the fall of the Throne, could Joséphine have any other ideas? What was there greater in ancient France, after the king—and no one then thought that he could become king, because one does not become king—what was there greater than duc and peer, maréchal de France? What was there higher than these dignities to which, in the most dizzy dream of ambition, a private individual could aspire?”

She does not suspect, she cannot imagine, that this new society demands a new form of government, that the man who is to accomplish this task has appeared on the scene, and that that man is her husband!

Bonaparte is by no means displeased with the royalist sympathies of his wife. He wishes to gain time in his negotiations with the rebels in the Vendée, to endeavor to rally them to his cause, and enlist them in his armies. For this reason he does not wish to break too abruptly with the Pretender, who has already made advances to him. He knows that the émigrés are only too anxious to return to France and recover at least a part of their property. Joséphine is practically the retained advocate of the Royalists and the Émigrés, and the favors which she solicits, and is accorded, one by one, are not calculated to excite the alarm of the purchasers of the national property, or arouse the wrath of the Jacobins. “Little by little this immense social force, lost for the France of the Revolution, will flow back from every part of Europe towards the France of the Consulate, and bring back, with the habits of courtesy and elegance, administrators for the departments, magistrates for the superior courts, diplomats for the legations, officers for the troops, causeurs for the salons, personages for the Court.... Bonaparte feels that the glory of the past, represented by illustrious names, is necessary to the splendor of the future; and to create a France worthy of the destiny which he prepares for her, he has need of all her children.” Without in the least suspecting the fact, Joséphine thus played a most important rôle in that policy of fusion, which was one of the greatest principles of Napoleon’s administration, and one which specially characterized it.

On the 20 January 1800, at Mortefontaine was celebrated the marriage, by civil forms only, of Caroline Bonaparte and Joachim Murat. According to Madame Récamier, Caroline, although not so beautiful as her sister Pauline, was very attractive. She strongly possessed the Napoleonic type of countenance, and had much intelligence, and a strong will.

Murat, who at that time was only a general of division, was the most striking cavalier in the French army. Young, handsome, full of life, with his brilliant uniforms, on the field of battle or in a review, he attracted universal attention.

Napoleon at first was very much opposed to the match. When Murat was sent to Paris after the armistice of Cherasco, he was too attentive to the wife of his general-in-chief, and boasted rather indiscreetly of his bonne fortune. Later he fell in love with Caroline, during her visit to Milan, and was accepted by her. To secure the consent of Napoleon, they solicited the good offices of Joséphine. What better means of convincing Bonaparte that, if Joséphine had ever favored Murat’s suit, all was now over? Joséphine warmly espoused his cause, with the double object of putting an end to Napoleon’s suspicions, and of securing in Murat a strong ally in her constant struggle against the enmity of the Bonapartes.

On the occasion of her marriage Caroline received from her brothers a dot of forty thousand francs, the same amount that they had given to Pauline. In addition she had a trousseau and presents of the value of twelve thousand francs. Nearly all the members of the family were present at the ceremony, but no mention can be found of the First Consul and his wife. The young couple took up their residence in the Hôtel de Brionne, near the Tuileries, and continued to be on the warmest terms of intimacy with Joséphine.

After living for three months at the Luxembourg, on the 19 February 1800 Napoleon moved to the Tuileries, which became his principal place of residence during the Consulate and the Empire. He occupied the suite of Louis the Fourteenth on the first floor, facing on the Gardens, while Joséphine lived below him on the ground floor, in the former apartment of Marie-Antoinette.

As at the Luxembourg, life at the Tuileries at first was very simple. It was too soon for the appointment of chamberlains and ladies of the palace. On the day of the formal entrance of the First Consul to the Tuileries, Joséphine, who had preceded him in a private carriage, was modestly placed in a window of the Pavilion de Flore, to view the ceremony. But two days later, when Bonaparte received the diplomatic corps, she had all of the members presented to her, and held a court which recalled that of the queens.

During the early days, it was not easy to constitute a new society at the Tuileries. Bonaparte himself had had no experience in the world. Having passed all his time in the army, he had but few acquaintances at Paris, and found it necessary constantly to call upon his colleague Lebrun for information regarding persons and things. There would also have been a great outcry from the Republicans if he had immediately received the personages of the Ancien Régime, the royalists and the émigrés. These persons, at first, affected to draw a line between the First Consul and his wife. While they did not mount the steps to the apartment of Bonaparte on the first floor, they filled the rooms of the former Vicomtesse de Beauharnais on the floor below. Each décade, the First Consul gave in the Galerie de Diane a grand dinner with two hundred couverts. As the Russian Princesse Dolgorouki wrote at this time: “It was not exactly a Court, but it was no longer a camp.”

As often as he could lay down the cares of office, generally three or four times a month, Bonaparte went to Malmaison for a day’s rest. This estate, purchased by Joséphine during his absence in Egypt, had become his favorite place of recreation. The château was situated in a fine location, near the village of Rueil, on the left bank of the Seine, about nine miles from Paris. The building, which has recently been restored and presented to the State as a museum of Napoleonic souvenirs, consisted then, as now, of three stories, with a plain façade, and a tile roof. On the ground floor, at the left of the large vestibule, were the dining-room, the council chamber and the library; in the other wing, the billiard-room, the boudoir, the salon of Joséphine, and the gallery. From the library there was access to the garden by a little bridge thrown across the moat which runs along this side of the château.

From the billiard-room there was a staircase to the first floor. Here, at the right, an antechamber opened into Joséphine’s bedroom, which was oval in form, and hung in red. For many years this was their common chamber, and here Joséphine drew her last breath while Napoleon was in exile at Elba. Two other adjoining rooms, and a bath-room, completed the private suite. In the other wing were the rooms occupied by Hortense after her marriage. In the middle there was a long corridor, from which opened several small rooms, occupied by the aides de camp on duty, or invited guests.

Malmaison was for Joséphine what the Petit-Trianon had been for Marie-Antoinette. In her time the grounds extended as far as the village of Rueil, and were beautifully decorated with exotic trees, rare plants, exquisite flowers, and small lakes with their white and black swans.

At Malmaison, Napoleon always appeared at his best. The great man relaxed, and threw off his cares; he was amiable, familiar, indulgent. He took part in the games with the ardor of a youth. He joked, he told stories with a spirit which astonished everybody. He was an admirable host, affable, spirituel, putting all his guests at their ease. At that time he had not yet abandoned his republican simplicity, and adopted the tiresome and chilling etiquette of the Imperial Court.