The Court of the Empress Josephine | Page 6

is difficult to form an idea of the
enormous throng that blocked all the approaches to the Palace of
Justice the day the trial opened, and continued to crowd them during
the twelve days that the trial lasted, which was as interesting to
Royalists as to Republicans. The most fashionable people of Paris
made a point of being present. Sentence was pronounced June 10.
Georges Cadoudal and nineteen of the accused, among whom were M.
Armand de Polignac, and M. de Rivière, were condemned to death.
To the Emperor's great surprise, Moreau was sentenced to only two
years of prison. This penalty was remitted, and he was allowed to
betake himself to the United States. To facilitate his establishing
himself there, the Emperor bought his house in the rue d'Anjou Saint
Honoré, paying for it eight hundred thousand francs, much more than it
was worth, and then he gave it to Bernadotte, who did not scruple to
accept it. The sum was paid to Moreau out of the secret fund of the
police before he left for Cadiz. Josephine's urgent solicitations saved
the life of the Duke Armand de Polignac, whose death-sentence was
commuted to four years' imprisonment before being transported.
Madame Murat secured a modification of the sentence of the Marquis
de Rivière; and these two acts of leniency, to which great publicity was

given, were of great service in diminishing the irritation of the
Royalists. After Moreau's trial, the opposition, having become
discouraged, and conscious of its weakness, laid down its arms, at least
for a time. Napoleon was everywhere master.
The Republic was forgotten. Its name still appeared on the coins:
"French Republic, Napoleon, Emperor"; but it survived as a mere ghost.
Nevertheless, the Emperor was anxious to celebrate in 1804 the
Republican festival of July 14; but the object of this festival was so
modified that it would have been hard to see in it the anniversary of the
taking of the Bastille and of the first federation. In the celebration, not a
single word was said about these two events. The official eulogy of the
Revolution was replaced by a formal distribution of crosses of the
Legion of Honor.
This was the first time that the Emperor and Empress appeared in
public in full pomp. It was also the first time that they availed
themselves of the privilege of driving through the broad road of the
garden of the Tuileries. Accompanied by a magnificent procession,
they went in great splendor to the Invalides, which the Revolution had
turned into a Temple of Mars, and the Empire had turned again to a
Catholic Church. At the door they were received by the Governor and
M. de Ségur, Grand Master of Ceremonies, and at the entrance to the
church by the Cardinal du Belloy at the head of numerous priests.
Napoleon and Josephine listened attentively to the mass; then, after a
speech was uttered by the Grand Chancellor of the Legion of Honor, M.
de Lacépède, the Emperor recited the form of the oath; at the end of
which all the members of the Legion shouted "I swear." This sight
aroused the enthusiasm of the crowd, and the applause was loud. In the
middle of the ceremony, Napoleon called up to him Cardinal Caprara,
who had taken a very important part in the negotiations concerning the
Concordat, and was soon to help to persuade the Pope to come to Paris
for the coronation. The Emperor took from his own neck the ribbon of
the Legion of Honor, and gave it to the worthy and aged prelate. Then
the knights of the new order passed in line before the Imperial throne,
while a man of the people, wearing a blouse, took his station on the
steps of the throne. This excited some surprise, and he was asked what
he wanted; he took out his appointment to the Legion. The Emperor at
once called him up, and gave him the cross with the usual kiss.

The Empress's beauty made a great impression, as we learn from
Madame de Rémusat, who generally prejudiced against her, but on this
occasion was forced to recognize that Josephine, by her tasteful and
careful dressing, succeeded in appearing young and charming amid the
many young and pretty women by whom she was for the first time
surrounded. "She stood there," Madame de Rémusat goes on, "in the
full light of the setting sun, wearing a dress of pink tulle, adorned with
silver stars, cut very low after the fashion of the time, and crowned by a
great many diamond clusters; and this fresh and brilliant dress, her
graceful bearing, her delightful smile, her gentle expression produced
such an effect that I heard a number of persons who had been present at
the ceremony say that she