On the day following, the 18th Brumaire, these three consuls entered the Luxembourg, amid the plaudits of the people, and slept, as conquerors, in the beds of the Directory of yesterday.

From that day forward a new world began to take shape, and the forms of etiquette which, during the ascendency of the democratic republic, had slunk away out of sight into the darkest recesses of the Luxembourg and the Tuileries, began to reappear, slowly and circumspectly, ’tis true, in broad daylight.  People were no longer required, in accordance with the spirit of equality, to ignore all distinctions of condition and culture, by the use of the words “citizen” and “citizeness;” or, in the name of brotherhood, to endure the close familiarities of every brawling street ruffian; or, in the name of liberty, to let all his own personal liberty and inclination be trampled under foot.

Etiquette, as I have said, crept forth from the dark corners again; and the three consuls, who had taken possession of the Luxembourg, whispered the word “monsieur” in each other’s ears, and greeted Josephine and her daughter, who were installed in the apartments prepared for them in the palace on the next day, with the title of “madame.”  Yet, only a year earlier, the two words “monsieur” and “madame” had occasioned revolt in Paris, and brought about bloodshed.  A year earlier General Augereau had promulged the stern order of the day in his division, that, “whoever should use the word ‘monsieur’ or ‘madame,’ orally or in writing, on pretext whatever, should be deprived of his rank, and declared incapable of ever again serving in the army of the republic[7].”

[Footnote 7:  Bourrienne, vol. i., p. 229.]

Now, these two proscribed words made their triumphant entry, along with the three consuls, into the palace of the Luxembourg, which had been delivered from its democratic tyrants.

Josephine was now, at least, “Madame” Bonaparte, and Hortense was “Mademoiselle” Beauharnais.  The wife of Consul Bonaparte now required a larger retinue of servants, and a more showy establishment.  Indeed, temerity could not yet go so far as to speak of the court of Madame Bonaparte and the court ladies of Mademoiselle Hortense; they had still to be content with the limited space of the diminutive Luxembourg, but they were soon to be compensated for all this, and, if they still had to call each other monsieur and madame, they could, a few years later, say “your highness,” “your majesty,” and “monseigneur,” in the Tuileries.

The Luxembourg Palace was soon found to be too small for the joint residence of the three consuls, and too confined for the ambition of Bonaparte, who could not brook the near approach of the other two men who shared the supreme control of France with him.  Too it was also for the longings that now spoke with ever louder and stronger accents in his breast, and pushed him farther and farther onward in this path