Again the drums rolled, and again order was restored. And now the supreme act of the drama opened—the formal presentation of each Eagle to its own regimental deputation.
Forthwith the wide-fronted columns, breaking swiftly into quarter-column formation, began to move, section by section, in turn. Rapidly, and, as it almost seemed, automatically, they resumed their first formation, extending round the Field of Mars on three sides. From front to rear the quarter-columns took up a full mile and three-quarters. Ranked in close order, the long-drawn-out array of troops on that set off, to a stately march from the bands of the Guard, to pass along the front of the Military School, before the flanking pavilion, and galleries and stands. So, in due course, all in turn came opposite to the foot of the great stairway ascending to the throne.
Each section, as it came in front of the steps, made a pause. The Colonels at the same moment were passing in file before Napoleon. Each in turn inclined the Eagle that he bore towards the Emperor. He held the staff at an angle of forty-five degrees—the regulation method of salute, in accordance with an Imperial order issued in the previous July, when the adoption of the Eagle as the Army standard was first announced. Napoleon on his side, with his ungloved right hand, just touched each Eagle. The Colonels, then, saluting, turned, one after the other, to descend the stairs. At the foot of the stairway each delivered over the Eagle to the standard-bearer of his regiment, who, together with the deputation, was at the spot to receive it.[5]
THE ONLY EXISTING NAVAL EAGLE
With the Eagles in their charge the regimental parties moved on. Passing in front of the stands and pavilions beyond, all wheeled there, to pass again round the arena of the Field of Mars, until they had reached their former stations, and halted, all ranged in the order in which they had taken post at their first arrival.
THE EAGLE OF THE IRISH LEGION
There remained after that the grand finale. The March Past of the Eagle detachments before Napoleon now came on, designed as the consummation of the day’s doings.
In connection with that, however, there was an unfortunate incident. On the Field of Mars were displayed also the old Army colours of the Consulate, which, as has been said, had been brought to Paris at the order of the War Minister by the regimental deputations. Paraded together with the new Eagles they helped to render the scene the more striking; but their presence led to an unforeseen complication, and in the end a deplorable contretemps.
The standard-bearers who had received the Eagles were each, in addition, still carrying the old regimental flag. They had to carry both. No instructions had been given out—by oversight, most probably—as to the giving up of the old flags, or what was to be done with them.
ALL DID NOT WANT THE EAGLES