The Court of the Empress Josephine | Page 3

bounds; their irritability was extreme.
Nothing seemed good enough, for them. In the way of honors
privileges, and when we recall their father's modest at Ajaccio, it is
hard to keep from smiling at the vanity of these new Princes of the
blood. Of Napoleon's four brothers, two were absent and on bad terms
with him: Lucien, on account of his marriage with Madame Jouberton;
Jerome, on account of his marriage with Miss Paterson. His mother,
Madame Letitia Bonaparte, an able woman, who combined great
courage with uncommon good sense, had not lost her head over the

wonderful good fortune of the modern Caesar. Having a presentiment
that all this could not last, she economized from motives of prudence,
not of avarice. While the courtiers were celebrating the Emperor's new
triumphs, she lingered in Rome with her son Lucien, whom she had
followed in his voluntary exile, having pronounced in his favor in his
quarrel with Napoleon. As for Joseph and Louis, who, with their wives,
had been raised to the dignity of Grand Elector and Constable,
respectively, one might think that they were overburdened with wealth
and honors, and would be perfectly satisfied. But not at all! They were
indignant that they were not personally mentioned, in the _plébiscite_,
by which their posterity was appointed to succeed to the French crown.
This _plébiscite_ ran thus: "The French people desire the Inheritance of
the Imperial dignity in the direct, natural, or adoptive line of descent
from Napoleon Bonaparte, and in the direct, natural, legitimate line of
descent from Joseph Bonaparte and from Louis Bonaparte, as is
determined by the organic _senatus-consultum_ of the twenty-eighth
Floréal, year XII." For the Emperor's family, these stipulations were the
cause of incessant squabbles and recriminations. Lucien and Jerome
regarded their exclusion as an act of injustice. Joseph and Louis asked
indignantly why their descendants were mentioned when they
themselves were excluded. They were very jealous of Josephine, and of
her son, Eugene de Beauharnais, and much annoyed by the Emperor's
reservation of the right of adoption, which threatened them and held out
hopes for Eugene. Louis Bonaparte, indignant with the slanderous story,
according to which his wife, Hortense, had been Napoleon's mistress,
treated her ill, and conceived a dislike for his own son, who was
reported to be that of the Emperor. As for Elisa Bacciochi, Caroline
Murat, and Pauline Borghese, they could not endure the mortification
of being placed below the Empress, their sister-in-law, and the thought
that they had not yet been given the title of Princesses of the blood,
which had been granted to the wife of Joseph and the wife of Louis,
filled them with actual despair.
Madame de Rémusat, who was present at the first Imperial dinner at St.
Cloud, May 18, 1804, describes this curious repast. General Duroc,
Grand Marshal of the Palace, told all the guests in succession of the
titles of Prince and Princess to be given to Joseph and Louis, and their
wives, but not to the Emperor's sisters, or to their husbands. This fatal

news prostrated Elisa, Caroline, and Pauline. When they sat down at
table, Napoleon was good-humored and merry, possibly at heart
enjoying the slight constraint that this novel formality enforced upon
his guests. Madame Murat, when she heard the Emperor saying
frequently Princess Louis, could not hide her mortification or her tears.
Every one was embarrassed, while Napoleon smiled maliciously.
The next day the Emperor went to Paris to hold a grand reception at the
Tuileries, for he was not a man to postpone the enjoyment of the
splendor which his satisfied ambition could draw from his new title. In
this palace, where had ruled the Committee of Public Safety, where the
Convention had sat, whence Robespierre had departed in triumph to
preside over the festival in honor of the Supreme Being, nothing was
heard but the titles of Emperor, Empress, My Lord, Prince, Princess,
Imperial Highness, Most Serene Highness. It was asserted that
Bonaparte had cut up the red caps to make the ribbons of the Legions
of Honor. The most fanatical Revolutionists had become conservative
as soon as they had anything to preserve. The Empire was but a few
hours old, and already the new-born court was alive with the same
rivalries, jealousies, and vanities that fill the courts of the oldest
monarchies. It was like Versailles, in the reign of Louis XIV., in the
Gallery of Mirrors, or in the drawing-room of the Oeil de Boeuf. It
would have taken a Dangeau to record, hour by hour, the minute points
of etiquette. The Emperor walked, spoke, thought, acted, like a
monarch of an old line. To nothing does a man so readily adapt himself
as to power. One who has been invested with the highest rank is sure to
imagine