The flotilla as it approached was a brilliant sight. At the head was the “Dorade,” a cross at her prow, and, behind, the coffin. It was draped in purple velvet, surrounded by flags and garlands of oak and cypress, and surmounted by a canopy of black velvet ornamented with silver and masses of floating black plumes. Between cross and coffin stood the Prince de Joinville in full uniform, and behind him Generals Bertrand and Gourgaud and the Abbé Coquereau, almoner of the expedition. The vessels following the “Dorade” bore the crews of the “Belle Poule” and the “Favorite” and the military bands. A magnificent funeral boat, on whose deck there was a temple of bronzed wood, hung with splendid draperies of purple and gold, brought up the official procession. Behind followed numberless craft of all descriptions. Majestic funeral marches and salvos of artillery accompanied the advance.
THE FUNERAL PROCESSION IN PARIS. FUNERAL CAR PASSING DOWN THE CHAMPS ELYSÉES.
At Courbevoie the flotilla anchored. Notwithstanding the intense cold, thousands of people camped all night on the hill-sides and shores, their bivouac fires illuminating the landscape.
Only those who have seen Paris on the day of a great fête or ceremony can picture to themselves the 15th of December, 1840. The day was intensely cold, eight degrees below the freezing point, but at five o’clock in the morning, when the drums began beating, and the guns booming, the populace poured forth, taking up their positions along the line of the expected procession. This line was fully three miles in length, and ran from Courbevoie to the Arc de Triomphe by way of Neuilly, thence down the Champs Elysées, across the Place and Bridge de la Concorde, and along the quai to the Esplanade des Invalides. From one end to the other it was packed on either side a hundred deep, before nine o’clock. The journals of the day compute the number of visitors expected in Paris as about half a million. Inside and outside of the Hôtel des Invalides alone, thirty-six thousand places were given to the Minister of the Interior, and that did not cover one-tenth of the requests he received. It is certain that nearly a million persons saw the entry of Napoleon’s remains. The people hung from the trees, crowded the roofs, stood on ladders of every description, filled the windows, and literally swarmed over the walks and grass plots. A brisk business went on in elevated positions. A ladder rung cost five francs ($1.00); the man who had a cart across which he had laid boards, rented standing-room at from five to ten francs. As for windows and balconies—they sold for fabulous prices, in spite of the fact that the placard fenêtrés et balcons à louer appeared in almost every house from Neuilly to the Invalides, even in many a magnificent hotel of the Champs Elysées. Fifty francs ($10.00) was the price of the meanest window; a good one cost one hundred francs ($20.00); three thousand francs ($600.00) were paid for good balconies. One speculator rented a vacant house for the day for five thousand francs ($1,000.00), and made money on his investment.
The crowd made every preparation to keep warm; some of them carried foot-stoves filled with live coals, others little hand-warmers. At intervals along the procession great masses of the spectators danced to keep up their circulation. Vendors of all sorts of articles did a thriving business. Every article was, of course, Napoleonized; one even bought gauffrettes and Madeleines cut out in the shape of Napoleons. There were badges of every form—imperial eagles, bees, crowns, even the petit chapeau. Many pamphlets in prose and verse had a great sale, especially those of Casimir Delavigne, Victor Hugo, and Barthélemy; though all these stately odes were far outstripped by one song, thousands upon thousands of copies of which were sold. It ran:
“Premier capitaine du monde
Depuis le siége de Toulon,
Tant sur la terre que sur l’onde
Tout redoutait Napoleon.