There is no city in the world where things are forgotten so quickly as in Paris, and the impression made by the death of the Duc d’Enghien soon passed away. Even with the royalists the event caused more sorrow than indignation. The First Consul decided to appear in public as usual, and soon went with his wife to the Opéra, where he was greeted with the customary applause. A week after the execution, the Senate in an address formally called on Bonaparte to guarantee the future by rendering his work “as immortal as his glory.”

In the Tribune, on the 28 April a member suggested a hereditary empire, and five days later the proposition was adopted by the vote of all the members except Carnot. The Senate disputed the initiative of the Tribune in this matter, because six weeks before Fouché had made an appeal to that body to establish hereditary power in the person of Bonaparte as the surest means of preserving the benefits of the Revolution.

At the session of the 18 May the Senate adopted a decree worded as follows:

“The French people decree the heredity of the Imperial dignity in the descent, direct, natural, legitimate, and adopted, of Napoleon Bonaparte; and in the descent, direct, natural, and legitimate, of Joseph Bonaparte and of Louis Bonaparte.”

Then the Senate adjourned, and proceeded in a body to Saint-Cloud to hail the new sovereign, Napoléon I^er. Napoleon, in uniform, received them in the magnificent Gallery of Apollo where four and a half years before, in the early hours of a gloomy November morning, he had taken his oath as consul. Now it is a day of splendid May sunshine, and Joséphine, radiant with joy, is by the side of her husband, whose triumph she modestly shares.

In the name of the Senate, Cambacérès pronounces a solemn discourse, which ends with the expression of the hope that the decree shall immediately be executed, and Napoleon instantly proclaimed as Emperor of the French. There is enthusiastic applause in the gallery, which is echoed throughout the château, and in the courts and gardens. The cry of “Vive l’Empereur!” to be heard later on so many fields of battle, for the first time splits the air.

Napoleon, arrived at the goal of his ambition, conceals his pride under an air of outward calm. He is so much at ease in his new rôle of monarch, that one would imagine he was born to the purple.

It is next the turn of the new Empress to receive the homage of the Senate. Cambacérès, in his most flowery manner, conveys to Joséphine the expression of the respect and gratitude of the French people for her never failing kindness and sympathy in cases of misfortune, the living remembrance of which would teach the world that, to dry the tears, is the surest way to reign over the hearts. Behold therefore the modest and gracious Creole elevated to the rank of sovereign!

In the chorus of acclamations which echoed from every part of France there was scarcely a discordant note. The people ratified the Napoleonic dynasty by the almost unanimous vote of over three and a half millions in the affirmative against twenty-five hundred in the negative—a majority larger than that obtained for the Consulate. If supreme power is ever to be based upon the foundation of a nation’s will, no ruler in history ever had a clearer title to his throne than Napoleon Bonaparte!

In the midst of these scenes of joy, the only persons who appear dissatisfied are the members of the new imperial family, who ought to be the most delighted, and the most astonished at their grandeur. Nothing seems sufficiently splendid to meet their extravagant desires. When we think of the modest mansion of their father at Ajaccio, it is impossible to suppress a smile at the pretentions of these new princes and princesses of the blood. Of the four brothers of Napoleon, two are absent and in disgrace: Lucien, for his marriage with Madame Jouberthou; Jérôme for having wedded Miss Patterson. His mother has espoused the cause of Lucien, and followed her son into exile at Rome. Joseph and Louis are disappointed because their children, instead of themselves, are designated in the line of succession. Élisa and Caroline are full of chagrin because they are placed in the official scale below their sister-in-law, the Empress, and they are plunged in despair because they do not yet receive the title of princesse like the wives of Joseph and Louis. They certainly must have expected that the wife of the Emperor would receive an exalted rank, but they did not imagine that Julie and Hortense, who were not of the blood, could bear titles which they themselves did not have.

After the reception of the Senate at Saint-Cloud, at which Élisa and Caroline were present, the Emperor asked them to remain for dinner. As they were about to go to the table, Duroc announced the titles which should be given to each one, and in particular to the wives of the princes. Mesdames Bacciochi and Murat appeared astounded at the difference between themselves and their sisters-in-law. Madame Murat, especially, found it difficult to conceal her chagrin. About six o’clock the Emperor appeared, and began, without any appearance of embarrassment, to salute each one with his new title. The Empress showed her usual amiability; Louis appeared satisfied; Madame Joseph, resigned to what was expected of her; Madame Louis, equally submissive; Eugène de Beauharnais, simple and natural, with an air free from all signs of ambition or disappointment. It was not the same with the new marshal, Murat, but fear of his brother-in-law forced him to self-restraint, and he displayed a thoughtful reticence. As for Madame Murat, she was in despair, and had so little self-control that when she heard the Emperor, on several occasions during the dinner, address the Princesse Louis, she could not repress her tears; she drank in succession several large glasses of water, in the endeavor to recover her composure, but the tears continued to fall.

Her sister, Madame Bacciochi, older, and more mistress of herself, did not cry; but she was brusque and cutting in her manner, and treated the dames du palais with marked hauteur.

After a while the Emperor became annoyed, and increased the discomforture of his sisters by teasing them with indirect banter. On this occasion there were too many people present for the matter to go further, but the following day at the family dinner, Madame Murat broke out in tears and complaints. Napoleon lost his temper, and replied very severely. Caroline, who could endure no more, fell on the floor in a dead faint. This had an immediate effect on Napoleon, who calmed down, and agreed to do what they wanted. The next day the official paper inserted the following note: “To the French princes and princesses is given the title of Imperial Highness: the sisters of the Emperor bear the same title.”

In the midst of all these family désagréments Joséphine maintained her usual amiable serenity. The conduct of his brothers and sisters was in such contrast with that of his wife and her children that Napoleon could not help being impressed with the difference. Except for money, from time to time, to pay her debts, Joséphine asked nothing. For the rest, she accepted whatever it pleased her husband to give her, but without any appearance of desiring it, and without any pretention that it was due her. If he gave to others, she approved, and never displayed any envy. Her conduct, whether calculated or not, was so adroit that every one was struck by her disinterestedness, and her husband most of all.

With respect to her children Joséphine showed exactly the same spirit. As Napoleon himself stated later, she never asked anything for Eugène; never even thanked him for what he did for her son, and never showed any particular appreciation of his favors. At the début of the Empire, Napoleon did nothing for Eugène, who found himself relegated, by his duties and his rank, to the waiting-room the most distant from the Emperor’s apartment. Eugène seemed to consider this entirely natural, and made no complaint. When Napoleon offered him through Joséphine the office of Grand Chamberlain, Eugène modestly declined, saying in excuse that this employment suited neither his tastes nor his character, his vocation being entirely military. No reply could have better pleased the Emperor, who at once increased his allowance from 30,000 to 150,000 francs, and appointed him colonel-general of the Chasseurs à cheval, which made him a grand officer of the Empire.

The new Empire opened brilliantly; and no one seemed to give a thought to the Republic, of which almost the only vestige left was the gold coins that continued for several years to bear the anomalous inscription: “République Française, Napoléon Empereur.” The first public appearance of the new sovereigns on a formal occasion was at the fête of the 14 July, anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, which this year was to be the occasion of the presentation of the crosses of the Légion d’honneur. For the first time they traversed in a carriage the grande allée of the Tuileries Gardens, and proceeded with great pomp to the Hôtel des Invalides. The ceremony took place in the church, which during the Revolution had been made a Temple of Mars, and was now again consecrated for religious uses. After the Mass, and a discourse by the grand chancellor of the Order, the Emperor pronounced the oath, and each of the members cried: “Je le jure!” Napoleon then called to him Cardinal Caprara, who had negotiated the Concordat, and who was soon to be of great service in deciding the Pope to come to Paris for the Coronation. Detaching from his neck the cordon of the Légion, the Emperor presented it to the venerable prelate.

On this occasion the Empress had a great personal triumph. She wore a robe of pink tulle covered with silver stars, with a very décolleté corsage, as was then the fashion, although the ceremony took place in full daylight. Clusters of diamonds crowned her head. Radiant with happiness, she never appeared to greater advantage.

Four days later the Emperor left Saint-Cloud for Boulogne on a general tour of inspection of the Channel ports from Calais to Ostende. He left Joséphine occupied with the preparation of her toilettes for the visit which she was soon to make with him to the banks of the Rhine. He was to meet her the first of September at Aix-la-Chapelle, where the Empress was to precede him by several weeks for the purpose of taking the waters.

As was his custom, before leaving Saint-Cloud Napoleon dictated in the minutest details the itinerary of the journey of the Empress. Everything was worked out with the same precision that he would have given to the orders for an army corps to arrive at a certain hour on the field of battle. He also dictated the replies that Joséphine was to make to the addresses of welcome that she would receive at the different cities through which she passed. Every day, before her departure, Joséphine could be seen, a large page of manuscript in her hand, trying to commit these discourses to memory, as a school-girl learns her lesson. Fortunately her replies were brief, and she soon knew them by heart.

Joséphine’s life at Aix was very monotonous. After the morning toilette, the Empress went to the thermal establishment for a bath. An hour of rest followed, and then she dressed for breakfast. In the afternoon she usually went out for a drive. Upon her return she again changed her robe for dinner. In the evening, unless she went to the theatre, she retired at an early hour.

It will be interesting here to read one of the letters written at this time by Napoleon to Joséphine, if only for the purpose of comparing it with the ardent effusions he sent her during the Campaign of Italy:

To the Empress, at Aix-la-Chapelle

After a visit of nine days at Aix, where he arrived on the 2 September, Napoleon left with Joséphine for Cologne. From there they travelled separately to Mayence, which they reached on the 20 September. At Mayence the sovereigns received the warmest of welcomes. The houses and public buildings were all illuminated in their honor. The Emperor found himself surrounded by a regular court of German princes. Performances were given by the second company of the Théâtre-Français, which had been summoned from Paris.

On the 12 October the Emperor and Empress were once more back at Saint-Cloud. This visit to the banks of the Rhine made a great impression on France, and indeed on all Europe. No theatrical manager ever had a greater talent than Napoleon for what may be called the art of the mise en scène. The stage was now set for the Coronation, and the curtain was about to rise on one of the grandest spectacles the world has ever seen.