On November 17, His Holiness resumed his carriage and thus accomplished the remainder of his journey always in the same company. The Emperor went to meet the Holy Father, and they encountered each other on the Nemours road, in the forest of Fontainebleau. The Emperor alighted from his horse, and the two sovereigns entered Fontainebleau in the same carriage. They say that in order that neither might take precedence of the other, they got into it simultaneously, His Majesty by the right-hand door, His Holiness by the left. I do not know whether the Emperor resorted to precautions and finessing to avoid compromising his dignity, but I do know very well that it would have been impossible to show more regard and attention than he did to the venerable old man. The day following his arrival at Fontainebleau, the Pope made his entry into Paris with all the honors ordinarily rendered to the chief of the Empire; a lodging had been prepared for him at the Tuileries, in the Pavilion of Flora; and in consequence of the delicate and affectionate care instituted by His Majesty from the first in order to receive the Holy Father well, the latter found his apartment arranged and furnished exactly like that he occupied at Rome. He warmly expressed his surprise and gratitude for an attention which he himself, so they say, described as quite filial; intending at the same time an allusion to the respect the Emperor had shown him on all occasions, and to the new title of eldest son of the Church, which His Majesty was about to take along with the imperial crown.

By His Majesty's orders I went every morning to inquire after the health of the Holy Father. Pius VII. had a beautiful and noble countenance, an air of angelic goodness, and a sweet and sonorous voice. He talked little, slowly, but with grace; he had an extreme simplicity and an incredible sobriety; toward others he was indulgent and not rigorous. Thus, in what concerns good cheer, the persons of his suite did not make a point of imitating him, but profited largely, on the contrary, by the order the Emperor had given to furnish all that should be asked for. The tables intended for them were abundantly and even magnificently supplied; which did not prevent a basket of Chambertin being asked for every day for the private table of the Pope, who dined alone and drank nothing but water.

The stay of nearly five months which the Holy Father made in Paris was a time of edification for the faithful, and His Holiness must have carried back with him the best idea of a population which, after having ceased to practice and to behold for more than ten years the ceremonies of the Catholic religion, had resumed them with inexpressible avidity. When the Pope was not detained in his apartments by the delicacy of his health, which demanded the greatest precautions on account of the difference between the climate and that of Italy, and the severity of the weather, he visited the churches, the museums, and the establishments of public utility. When the weather prevented him from going out, persons who asked that favor were presented to Pius VII. in the large gallery of the Napoleon museum. I was begged one day by some ladies of my acquaintance to conduct them to this audience of the Holy Father, and it was a pleasure to me to accompany them.

The long gallery of the museum was occupied by a double row of men and women. The great majority of these were mothers of families and had their children around them or in their arms, in order to present them for the Pope's blessing. Pius VII. rested his eyes on these groups of children with a sweetness and kindliness truly angelic. Preceded by the governor of the museum, and followed by the cardinals and noblemen of his household, he advanced slowly between the two ranks of the faithful kneeling along his path, often stopping to lay his hand on the head of a child, to address some words to a mother, or to give some one his ring to kiss. His costume was a simple white soutane, without any ornament. Just as the Pope came near us, the director of the museum presented a lady who, like the others, was awaiting the benediction of His Holiness on her knees. I heard the director name this lady, Madame the Countess de Genlis. The Holy Father, after presenting his ring, raised her, and affably addressed her in some flattering words, complimenting her on her works and the happy influence they had exerted in the re-establishing of the Catholic religion in France.

The venders of chaplets and rosaries ought to have made their fortunes that winter. There were shops where more than a hundred dozens were sold daily. During the month of January alone, this branch of industry was said to have made a clear profit of forty thousand francs for a merchant of the rue Saint-Denis. All those who presented themselves at the audiences of the Holy Father, or who pressed around him when he went out, had chaplets blessed for themselves, for all their relatives, and for their friends in Paris or in the provinces. The cardinals distributed an incredible quantity of them also in their visits to various hospitals, asylums, the Hotel des Invalides, etc. Even when they visited private houses they were asked for them.

The ceremony of the coronation of Their Majesties had been fixed for December 2. Everybody in the château was up very early in the morning of this great day, especially those connected with the service of the wardrobe. The Emperor rose at eight o'clock. It was no small affair to put on His Majesty the rich costume he had had made ready for the occasion, and while I was dressing him, he was not sparing in maledictions and apostrophes against embroiderers, tailors, and furnishers of every description. As fast as I would hand him some article of his costume: "This is fine," he would say (and my ears came into play), "monsieur le drôle, but we shall see the bills." This was his costume: silk stockings embroidered in gold, with the imperial crown above the clocks; half-boots of white velvet, laced and embroidered in gold; breeches of white velvet embroidered in gold on all the seams, with diamond buttons and buckles on the garters; the vest also of white velvet embroidered in gold and with diamond buttons; the coat of crimson velvet, with trimmings of white velvet, embroidered on all the seams, closed in front to the bottom, and sparkling with gold. The half-mantle was also crimson, lined with white satin, covering the left shoulder and attached to the right over the breast with a double clasp of diamonds. Formerly, in similar circumstances, it was the grand chamberlain who put on the shirt. It seems His Majasty had not thought of this law of etiquette, and it was simply I who performed this office, as I had always been accustomed to do. The shirt was one of His Majesty's ordinary ones, but of very beautiful lawn; His Majesty never wore any but very fine body linen. The cuffs, however, had been replaced with superb lace; the cravat was of the most perfect muslin and the collarette of magnificent lace; the toque was of black velvet surmounted by two white aigrettes; the band was of diamonds, with the regent for button. Thus dressed, the Emperor left the Tuileries, and it was only at Notre-Dame that he put the grand coronation mantle on his shoulders. It was of crimson velvet strewn with golden bees, lined with white satin and ermine, and fastened by gold bullion; it must have weighed at least eighty pounds, and though it was upheld by four great dignitaries, the Emperor was crushed by it. Hence, on returning to the château, he disembarrassed himself as quickly as possible of all this rich and uncomfortable pageantry, and putting on his grenadier's uniform, he incessantly repeated: "At last I breathe!" He was certainly much more at his ease on a day of battle.

The jewels used at the coronation of Her Majesty the Empress, and which consisted of a crown, a diadem, and a girdle, came from the ateliers of M. Margueritte. The crown had eight branches which came together under a globe of gold surmounted by a cross. The branches were adorned with diamonds, four of them shaped like palm leaves, and the other four like myrtle leaves. Above the curve was a cordon incrusted with eight enormous emeralds. The band which rested on the forehead sparkled with amethysts. The diadem was composed of four rows of pearls of the finest water, interlaced with foliage in diamonds perfectly assorted and mounted with an art that was as admirable as the richness of the material. Above the forehead were several large brilliants, a single one of which weighed one hundred and forty-nine grains. The girdle was a ribbon of gold enriched with thirty-nine rose diamonds.

The sceptre of His Majesty the Emperor had been made by M. Odiot. It was of silver enlaced by a golden serpent and surmounted by a globe on which Charlemagne was represented sitting. The hand of justice and the crown, and likewise the sword, were of exquisite workmanship. It would take too long to describe them. They came from the ateliers of M. Biennais.

At nine o'clock in the morning, the Pope left the Tuileries to repair to Notre-Dame, in a carriage drawn by eight dapple-gray horses. On the roof was a tiara with all the insignia of the papacy in gilded bronze. The first chamberlain of His Holiness preceded the carriage, riding on a mule and carrying a silver-gilt cross.

There was an interval of about an hour between the arrival of the Pope at Notre-Dame and that of Their Majesties. They left the Tuileries at eleven o'clock precisely, their departure being announced by numerous salvos of artillery. Their Majesties were in a carriage dazzling with gold and costly paintings, and drawn by eight light-bay horses caparisoned with extraordinary richness. On the roof was a crown supported by four eagles with outspread wings. The panels of this universally admired carriage were of glass instead of wood, so that the back was very much like the front. This resemblance occasioned a mistake on the part of Their Majesties, and on entering it they sat down on the front seat. It was the Empress who first noticed this error, over which both she and her husband laughed heartily.

I will not undertake to describe the cortège, though my recollections of it are still fresh and complete; but I should have too many things to say. Imagine ten thousand cavalrymen in splendid uniforms, defiling between two ranks of equally brilliant infantry, each line being nearly half a league in length. Think of the number of the equipages and their richness, the beauty of the horses and the uniforms, of that multitude of musicians playing the coronation marches to the sound of bells and of cannon; then add the effect produced by the concourse of four or five thousand spectators; and even thus you will still be far from having a just idea of this astonishing magnificence.

The weather is seldom fine in the month of December, but on this day the skies seemed favorable to the Emperor. At the moment he entered the archbishop's palace a rather heavy fog which had hung on all the morning, disappeared and permitted the sun to add the lustre of his rays to the splendor of the cortège. This singular circumstance was noticed by the spectators and increased their enthusiasm.

All the streets through which the procession passed had been scrupulously cleaned and sanded; according to their tastes and their means the inhabitants had decorated the fronts of their houses with draperies, tapestries, colored paper, and some with garlands of evergreens. Nearly all the shops on the quay des Orfèvres were decked with festoons of artificial flowers.

The religious ceremony lasted nearly four hours, and must have been inexpressibly fatiguing for the principal actors. The chamber servants were obliged to remain constantly in the apartment prepared for the Emperor at the archbishop's palace. The curious, however (and that included all of us), left it from time to time, and could thus see the ceremony at their leisure.

I think I have never heard such fine music. It was composed by MM. Paesiello, Rose, and Lesueur, chapel masters to Their Majesties; the orchestra and choruses combined the first talent of Paris. Two orchestras of four choirs, composed of more than three hundred musicians, were directed, the one by M. Persuis, the other by M. Rey, both of them chief musicians to the Emperor. M. Lais, His Majesty's first singer, MM. Kreutzer and Baillot, his first violinists, had added all that the imperial chapel, the opera, and the great lyric theatres possessed of superior talent, whether instrumental or vocal. The military bands were innumerable, and under the orders of M. Lesueur; these executed heroic marches, of which one, commanded by the Emperor from M. Lesueur for the army of Boulogne, still ranks, in the judgment of connoisseurs, among the finest and most imposing of musical compositions. For my part, this music made me turn pale and tremble; I shuddered from head to foot in listening to it.

His Majesty would not have the Pope put his crown on his head; he placed it there himself. It was a diadem of oak and laurel in gold. His Majesty afterwards took the crown intended for the Empress, and after holding it over her a few moments, placed it on the head of his august spouse, on her knees before him. She was shedding. tears of emotion, and on rising fixed a glance of tenderness and gratitude on the Emperor, who returned it, but without losing the gravity required by so imposing a ceremony in the presence of spectators; and yet, in spite of this constraint, their hearts comprehended each other in the midst of this brilliant and noisy assembly. Certainly, the idea of the divorce was not then in the Emperor's mind, and for my part, I am sure that this cruel separation would never have taken place if Her Majesty the Empress could still have had children; or even if the young Napoleon, son of the King of Holland and Queen Hortense, had not died at the time the Emperor was thinking of adopting him. Yet I must own that the fear, or rather the certainty, of not having from Josephine an heir to his throne, reduced the Emperor to despair; and I have often heard him suddenly interrupt his work with the vexed exclamation: "To whom shall I leave all this?"

After the Mass, His Excellency Cardinal Fesch, grand almoner of France, carried the book of the Gospels to the Emperor, who from his throne pronounced the imperial oath in a voice so firm and distinct that all who were present heard it. It was then that, for perhaps the twentieth time, the cry of: Long live the Emperor! came from every mouth. The Te Deum was chanted, and Their Majesties left the church with the same pomp with which they had entered it. The Pope remained in the church for a quarter of an hour after the sovereigns, and when he rose to retire universal acclamations saluted him from the chancel to the door.

It was half-past six o'clock when Their Majesties returned to the château, and the Pope did not come until seven. To enter the church, Their Majesties passed, as I have said, through the archbishop's palace, the buildings of which communicated with Notre-Dame by means of a wooden gallery. This gallery, covered with slates and hung with superb tapestries, ended at a portal, also in carpenter's work, established in front of the principal entrance of the church, and in a style in perfect harmony with the Gothic architecture of this beautiful cathedral. This flying portal rested on four columns decorated with inscriptions in gilded letters which represented the names of the thirty-six principal cities of France, the mayors of which had been deputed to be present at the coronation. On the upper part of these columns Clovis and Charlemagne were painted in relief, sitting on their thrones, sceptre in hand. In the centre of the frontispiece were represented the arms of the Empire, shadowed by the flags of sixteen cohorts of the Legion of Honor. On the two sides were two turrets surmounted by golden eagles. The under part of this portico, as well as the gallery, were vaulted, painted sky-blue, and bestrewn with stars.

The throne of Their Majesties was raised upon a semicircular platform, covered with a blue carpet studded with bees. Twenty-two steps led up to it. This throne, draped in red velvet, was surmounted by a canopy of the same material, the left wing of which shaded the Empress, the princesses, and their ladies of honor, and the right one of the two brothers of the Emperor, the archchancellor and the archtreasurer.

Nothing could be more magnificent than the spectacle afforded by the garden of the Tuileries on the evening of this beautiful day. The grand parterre surrounded by porticoes in lanterns, from each arcade of which hung garlands of colored lamps; the grand alley decorated with colonnades surmounted by stars; orange trees of fire on the terraces; each tree of the other alleys illuminated by lanterns; finally, to crown the illumination, an immense star suspended over the Place de la Concorde, dominating all the other fires. It was a palace of fire.

On the occasion of the coronation, His Majesty made magnificent presents to the metropolitan church. Among other things was remarked a chalice in silver-gilt ornamented with bas-reliefs, designed by the celebrated Germain; a ciborium, two cruets with their tray, a holy-water vase, and an offertory plate; all in silver-gilt and curiously wrought. By His Majesty's orders, transmitted through the minister of the interior, there was also sent to M. d'Astros, canon of Notre-Dame, a case containing the crown of thorns, a nail, and a fragment of the wood of the true cross; a little bottle containing, it was said, some of our Saviour's blood; an iron discipline which had been by Saint-Louis, and also a tunic that belonged to that king.

In the morning, Marshal Murat, governor of Paris, had given a magnificent breakfast to the German princes who had come to Paris to be present at the coronation. After the breakfast, the marshal-governor had them taken to Notre-Dame in four six-horse carriages, with an escort of a hundred men on horseback commanded by one of his aides-de-camp. This cortège was particularly noticed on account of its elegance and richness.

The morrow of this great and memorable ceremony was a day of public rejoicings. From early morning, an innumerable throng of people, favored by splendid , swarmed over the boulevards, the wharves, and the squares, where an infinite variety of diversions had been arranged. Heralds-at-arms passed through the public places at an early hour, throwing to the crowd which pressed upon them medals struck in memory of the coronation. These represented on one-side the figure of the Emperor, his forehead encircled by the crown of the Cæsars, with the legend: Napoleon Emperor. On the reverse was a figure in the costume of a magistrate, surrounded with appropriate emblems, and that of an ancient warrior raising on a buckler a crowned hero covered with an imperial mantle. Below this was engraved: The Senate and the people. As soon as the heralds had passed, the rejoicings began, and were prolonged far into the evening.

On Place Louis XV., then called Place de la Concorde, four large, square galleries had been erected in carpenter's and joiner's work, for dancing. Stages for pantomime and farce had been placed at regular intervals along the boulevards; groups of singers and musicians executed national airs and warlike marches; greased poles, rope-dancers, and games of every kind stayed the spectators at every step, and caused them to await without impatience the moment for the illuminations and the fireworks.

The illuminations were admirable. From the Place Louis XV. to the extremity of the boulevard Saint Antoine, there was a double cordon of colored lamps in garlands. The former Garde-Meuble, the palace of the Corps Legislatif, glittered with lights; the Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin gates were covered with lanterns from top to bottom.

In the evening, all the sight-seers went to the quays and bridges to see the fireworks, which were set off from the Pont de la Concorde (now Pont Louis XVI.), 1 and surpassed in brilliancy all that had been seen until then.