Four of the Marshals, readily recognised by their scarlet ostrich-plumes and gold-tipped bâtons of command, attended the Standard, and, as Colonels-General of the Imperial Guard, led the Imperial Military Household, the “Maison Militaire de l’Empereur.” The four were: Davout, titular chief of the Grenadiers of the Guard; Soult, Colonel-General of the Chasseurs; Bessières, of the Heavy Cavalry; Mortier, of the Guard Artillery. Close behind them four other gorgeously brilliant officers of rank rode abreast, the Colonels-General of the Cavalry of the Army: St. Cyr, of the Cuirassiers, disdainful and sardonic of mien; stern Baraguay d’Hilliers, of the Dragoons; good-looking Junot, Colonel-General of the Hussars; and Napoleon’s son-in-law, the chivalrous Eugène Beauharnais, Colonel-General of Chasseurs. A brilliant cavalcade of little less resplendent cavaliers, the Emperor’s aides de camp, all of them Generals of Division or Brigadiers, rounded up the group.
Another eye-surfeit of gleaming varnish, gilded carvings, and green liveries continued the pageant: twelve other State coaches, six-horsed like those in advance; carrying the personal suites of Napoleon and Josephine and the Princesses, Court Chamberlains and similar gold-embroidered functionaries, Ladies of the Palace and “Officers of the Crown.” The procession ended after them; the rear being brought up by the Mounted Grenadiers of the Guard, strapping troopers in huge bear-skins—soldiers picked for their height and bearing from the Cavalry of the Line—and the Gendarmerie d’Elite, who formed the Imperial palace-guard.
More than half the Imperial Guard—numbering, in 1804, ten thousand officers and men—lined the streets under arms; detachments of Grenadiers and Vélites, Foot-Chasseurs, Veterans of the Guard, Marines of the Guard. Through double rows of these, all standing with presented arms, the procession took its way, passing from the Tuileries Gardens, across the Place de Concorde and over the bridge there, to the Esplanade des Invalides. Yet another thundering Imperial salute from the twenty old cannons of the Batterie Triomphale greeted Napoleon at that point; while rows of old soldiers, the maimed veterans of Arcola and Rivoli and Marengo, shouted themselves hoarse, standing ranged in front of the Outer Court beside Napoleon’s Venetian trophy, kept there temporarily, the Lion of St. Mark.
From the Invalides, by way of the Rue de Grenelle, it was not far to the Military School.
WITHIN THE MILITARY SCHOOL
Withindoors at the Ecole Militaire a pause was made in the Governor’s apartments, which had been sumptuously furnished for the occasion from the Imperial storerooms of the Garde Meuble. Napoleon here accepted a number of selected addresses from the military delegations. One of them was brought by the regimental deputation of the 4th Chasseurs stationed at Boulogne. It thanked the Emperor in advance for the new standard he was presenting to the corps, “trusting that the day is at hand when we shall be able to contribute towards consolidating the splendour of the Empire by planting our Eagle on the Tower of London.” The Emperor also received the congratulations of the Ambassadors and Diplomatic Corps. Ten hereditary German Princes of the Rhineland, visiting Paris for the Coronation, attended at the Military School to witness the Presentation of the Eagles; at their head the Prince-Bishop-Elector of Ratisbon, Arch-Chancellor of the German Empire, the Margrave of Baden, and the Princes of Hesse-Darmstadt and Hesse-Homburg. Napoleon and Josephine after that withdrew to assume their crowns and Imperial regalia and pass outside to the two thrones prepared for them and standing side by side in the grand central pavilion in front.
The vast array of “guests of the Emperor,” seated outside, had of course been long since in their places, awaiting the advent of their Majesties amid surroundings designed on a scale of lavish magnificence regardless of cost.
On either hand pavilions and galleries and platforms, canopied and carpeted, draped and curtained and hung in crimson and gold, decorated with festoons and banners, and fenced with gilded balustrading, covered the whole length of the façade of the Ecole Militaire fronting the parade ground. In the centre stood the Imperial Pavilion, beneath a canopy of crimson silk supported by tall gilded columns. Side galleries draped, and under awnings led from it right and left to two other pavilions, at either end of the façade, similarly adorned in lavish gorgeousness. Below the galleries extended long stands, sloping forward to the ground, draped in green and crimson, and packed with rows of seats five or six deep. Here, partly in the open, sat the provincial Coronation guests from the Departments: the local prefects and sub-prefects, procurators, magistrates and syndics, mayors and councillors, and other municipal functionaries, all in gala-day attire of every colour, plumes in their hats, and buttons and embroidery all over their coats. They made a many-hued show in the mass, seen from the parade ground. The higher State dignitaries had seats under the canopies of the galleries, and looked yet more decorative. Seated in the pavilions on cushioned chairs were the Ambassadors and Foreign Princes, the Senate, Corps Legislatif, and Tribunate, High Court Judges in flowing robes of flame-coloured silk, and velvet-clad “Grand Officers of the Empire,” in full-dress all. They looked imposing and magnificent, but most of them were shivering, with damp bodies and numbed fingers.
IN THE IMPERIAL PAVILION
The sleet had stopped for the time, but after the all-night’s downpour of rain and snow the seats everywhere were in a sad condition. Canopies and cushions, curtains, seats, carpets—everything had been drenched through and swamped during the night. The discomfort, however, was past helping and had to be borne. The Imperial Pavilion itself indeed had not escaped a wetting, and in parts it was in little better condition than the other places. “Only with the greatest diligence,” describes one of the suite, “had it been possible to keep the thrones dry.”