Memoirs of the Empress Josephine, Vol. 2 of 2 — Story, Setting & Ideas

Napoleon's Theory of Rank

Rémusat devotes considerable space to Napoleon's own justification for creating a new nobility. In a scene set in the Empress's presence, the Emperor walks up and down the room, explaining that titles are "a kind of civic crown" won by good actions, and that he remains "within the principles of the Revolution" because his nobility is not exclusive. Yet he immediately undercuts this reasoning by acknowledging that the dukes he endows with enormous sums "will become partially independent of me." His final remark—"Ah, but they won't run so fast but that I shall be able to catch them!"—reveals a calculating mind that sees even his own creations as potential rivals. Rémusat does not editorialize, but the juxtaposition of theory and practice is sharp.

The Mocking Court

The volume repeatedly shows how the Parisian public and courtiers resisted Napoleon's attempts to control their perceptions. When Marshal Lefebvre is made Duke of Dantzic, his wife's coarse manners become a target of ridicule. She openly prefers the monetary gifts, and when she tells the Empress to make "your young hussies hold their tongues," the laughter only increases. Rémusat notes that the Emperor could not stop the jesting, and that witty sayings and calembourgs were written off to the army. The Minister of Police, Fouché, affects a disdainful liberality, but then summons the hosts of offending drawing-rooms to warn them. This cat-and-mouse game between the Emperor's desire for dignity and the court's irreverence forms a recurring structural pattern.

Movement Between Battlefield and Drawing-Room

The narrative shifts frequently between military campaigns and domestic court life. Chapter headings announce battles—Jena, Eylau, Friedland—but the text itself lingers on the reactions in Paris: the Empress's jealousy of the Queen of Bavaria, the theatricals at Malmaison, the death of Queen Hortense's son. Rémusat often places a military event and a social anecdote in close proximity, as when she follows the account of the Treaty of Tilsit with a description of vexations at court. This movement suggests that for the memoirist, the Emperor's power is as much performed in the drawing-room as on the battlefield. The reader sees Napoleon through the lens of those who must manage his moods and his wife's anxieties.

Reported Speech as Evidence

Rémusat's method relies heavily on direct quotation, often introduced with phrases like "he used to say" or "he suddenly paused and said." These passages give the impression of a witness recording the Emperor's unguarded moments. For example, Napoleon's remark that "Liberty is needed by a small and privileged class" is presented as a private reflection, not a public address. The memoirist also includes her own reactions—she notes a smile she "can not attempt to analyze." This technique creates an intimacy that a more formal history would lack, but it also raises questions about memory and selection. Rémusat does not claim completeness; she offers scenes that illustrate character, not a full chronicle of events.

Readers should attend to the way Rémusat uses physical movement—Napoleon pacing, the Empress retiring to Malmaison, courtiers shifting from laughter to fear—as a structural device that mirrors the instability of the regime. The volume does not attempt to cover every political development; instead, it selects moments that reveal the human cost of empire-building. Because the excerpts are incomplete, the reader cannot assume that Rémusat's perspective is consistent throughout, but the patterns of irony, reported speech, and juxtaposition offer a coherent lens for interpreting the court of Napoleon.

The rain drummed against the windows, and I lost myself in Madame de Rémusat’s account of Napoleon’s calculated coronation of new nobles, watching Josephine navigate that gilded, machined court. Her quiet resilience made me think of other leaders, forged in stranger fires. After closing it, I drifted to Abraham Lincoln, Volume II — A Reader’s Guide, finding the same weary solitude, the same measured steps through overwhelming politics. Both felt like whispers from men and women who simply endured. No grand conclusions, just shared company that afternoon.