The first visit which the King and Queen made in this capital was to the famous Cathedral. There they fell on their knees, and the Milanese were much touched by the spectacle. The Italian Journal, in its official account of Napoleon's entrance into Milan, uttered these dithyrambics: "It is impossible to imagine a more brilliant day than that which yesterday adorned our capital, when Bonaparte, the hero of the age, our adored monarch, entered within our walls. This day will be forever memorable in the chronicles of our history. Milan saw entering its gates, bearing the proud name of King, the same hero who had already been proclaimed conqueror, liberator, peace-maker, and legislator, and who to-day, under his august Empire, assures that greatness to which his victories and his genius permit us to aspire. The Emperor entered by the gate named after his most glorious triumph, the Marengo Gate."
On reaching Milan, Napoleon exchanged the decorations of the Legion of Honor for the oldest orders of chivalry in Europe. He received from the Minister of Prussia the Black and the Red Eagle; from the Spanish Ambassador, the Golden Fleece; from the Ministers of Bavaria and Portugal, the Orders of Saint Hubert and Christ respectively; and he gave them the broad ribbon of the Legion of Honor. When he had received besides foreign decorations for the principal men of the Empire, he granted an equal number of his own. May 12, wearing the broad ribbon of the Black Eagle, he went with the Empress to the theatre of La Scala and saw the opera of Castor and Pollux. The theatre, which was brilliantly lit, was crowded with the fair ladies of Milan, resplendent in full dress and jewels. The elegance and splendor of these deservedly famous beauties, the brilliant diversity of the uniforms, the sumptuousness of the Imperial box, and on the stage the magnificence of the dresses and the scenery, the skill of the singers, all combined to make the performance most memorable. That day, after mass, Napoleon had ridden out, and had inspected the troops who paraded on the Place of the Cathedral.
The Empress's grace and affability aroused general admiration. At the reception of the upper clergy of Italy, May 25, she was thus complimented by the Archbishop of Bergamo: "Madame, If charity were to descend from heaven to relieve the woes of humanity, it would seek no other asylum than the heart of a Queen, adored by her subjects. The feelings of love, gratitude, and respect which animate all your subjects are the same that lead to your feet all the bishops of the kingdom of Italy. Happy to find in your august spouse sublimity, glory, and genius, and in you all the charm of kindness, nothing is left for them but to pray for the happiness of your reign, and to offer thanks to heaven for having united in the souls of their sovereigns everything which can make supreme power loved and respected." This speech will suffice to show to what pitch the official flatteries were tuned.
The coronation took place May 26, in the Milan. Cathedral, which is the largest church in Italy, with the single exception of Saint Peter's in Rome. The weather was magnificent. From early morning a numberless throng crowded the Place of the Cathedral, the court-yards of the palace, and the adjacent streets. Just as in Paris at the coronation, a wooden gallery had been built, connecting the Archbishop's Palace with Notre Dame, so here at Milan, a similar gallery led from the palace to the Cathedral. The interior of the church was decorated with crimson silk stuffs. As at Notre Dame, a large throne had been built at the entrance to the nave, approached by twenty-five steps. Four gilded statues, representing victories, upheld like caryatides the canopy above the throne. The four figures held in one hand palms; in the other, the green velvet mantle falling from the royal crown above the canopy. The Cathedral was brilliantly lit by forty chandeliers hanging from the roof, and as many candelabra fastened on the columns.
Josephine, who had been crowned as Empress in Paris, was not to be crowned at Milan, although she bore the title of Queen of Italy. She watched the ceremony from a gallery. At half-past eleven she went to the Cathedral, preceded by her sister-in-law, the Princess Bacciocchi, and was conducted beneath a canopy to her gallery, amid loud applause. At noon the Emperor and King left his palace, and reached the Cathedral through the wooden gallery. On his arrival there incense was burned, and he was welcomed by an address from Cardinal Caprara, Archbishop of Milan, at the head of all his clergy. Preceded by the ushers, the heralds-at-arms, the pages, the Grand Master and the masters of ceremonies, by the seven ladies carrying offerings, and by the honors of Charlemagne, of the Empire, and of Italy, he appeared in most impressive pomp. On his head he wore the crown; he carried in his hands the sceptre, and the hand of justice of the kingdom; on his back he wore the royal cloak, the skirts of which were carried by the two First Equerries of France and Italy. As he entered the Cathedral a march of triumph was played. He took his seat on the small throne in the choir, having on his right the honors of Italy, on his left, those of France. The Archbishop of Bologna, who held a place at the coronation of the King very like that of the Pope at the crowning of the Emperor, carried to the altar the iron crown of the old Lombard kings, and began the mass. After the gradual, he blessed the royal ornaments in the following order: the sword, the cloak, the ring, the crown. Napoleon received from the Archbishop's hands the sword, the cloak, and the ring, but he took himself the iron crown from the altar, and proudly placing it on his head, exclaimed, in a voice that thrilled all present: "Dio me la diede, guai a chi la tocca!"—"God has given it to me; woe to him who touches it!" Then, having replaced the iron crown on the altar, he took the crown of Italy and placed it on his head, amid unanimous applause. Preceded by the same officials who had conducted him to the chair, he walked down the nave and took his place on the great throne at the other end by the entrance. The first herald-at-arms shouted, "Napoleon, Emperor of the French and King of Italy, is crowned and enthroned. Long live the Emperor and King."
The same day, at half-past four in the afternoon, the King and the Queen drove in a state carriage, with a brilliant escort, to the church of Saint Ambrose, one of the most revered sanctuaries of Italy, and there they heard a Te Deum of thanksgiving.
Mademoiselle Avrillon, Josephine's reader, tells us that Napoleon, when he had returned to the palace, was full of the wildest gaiety. He rubbed his hands, and in his good humor said to the reader: "Well! Did you see the ceremony? Did you hear what I said when I placed the crown on my head?" Then he repeated, almost in the same tone that he had used in the Cathedral: "God has given it to me! Woe to him that touches it!" "I told him," says Mademoiselle Avrillon, "that nothing that had happened had escaped me. He was very kind to me, and I often noticed that when there was nothing to annoy the Emperor, he talked cheerfully and freely with us, as if we were his equals; but whenever he spoke to us he used to ask questions, and in order to avoid displeasing him, it was necessary to answer him without showing too much embarrassment. Sometimes he gave us a pat on the cheek, or pinched our ears; these were favors not accorded every one, and we could judge of his good humor by the way they hurt us…. Often he treated the Empress in the same way, with little pats preferably on the shoulders; it was no use her saying: 'Come, stop, Bonaparte!' he went on as long as he pleased."
The Emperor greatly enjoyed his stay in Milan, and breathed with rapture the incense burned in abundance before him. The Italian Journal in its account of the coronation reached lyric heights:
"The most brilliant day has lit up Milan; it has had no equal in the past, and it offers the happiest auguries for the future…. Old men themselves, accustomed as they are to praise the past, have exhibited the liveliest enthusiasm. It was in vain that night struggled to draw its veil over our city, it had to yield before the general and magnificent illumination which brought out in lines of fire the shape and admirable form of the Duomo. Most of the palaces and private houses were covered with devices and inscriptions. The first one of the days consecrated to the liveliest national rejoicing was ended by a vast exhibition of fireworks, which were set off on the spot where so many have perished at the stake."
The next day games were celebrated, in the manner of the ancients, in a circus rivalling the Roman amphitheatres in size. This was the occasion of a dithyrambic outburst inserted in the Moniteur: "The Italians have just offered Napoleon the same spectacle that their ancestors offered Marcus Aurelius and Trajan; but the presence of Napoleon has called forth more joy and admiration, because it has aroused greater admiration and higher hopes. They were but the preservers of Italian greatness; he is its creator and its father. In the pomp of the games, amid the tumultuous applause, the immense mass of people were to be seen turning their eyes towards him alone, as if they were saying to him: 'These festivities are but feeble expressions of the gratitude that all Italy vows to you for all the good you have done her; and since you deign to accept it, since you like to sit among us as our Prince and our father, these festivities become an augury to us of still greater benefit. The day will perhaps come when Italy, restored to this new life, may be able to adorn its circus with the monuments of its own bravery which will also be the monuments of your glory; and Italy, being never doomed to perish, whatever great deeds may be wrought by Italians in the course of centuries will be due to the hero who has recalled them to life.'" After the races there was a balloon ascension. The courageous wife of the aeronaut Garnerin accompanied him and threw down flowers to Napoleon and Josephine. "Thus," the Moniteur goes on, "in a single day, at one show, the Italians have combined the proudest pomp of the ancients and the boldest invention of modern science, together with the presence of a hero who excels both ancients and moderns."