Sunday, the 29th of May, 1825, the city of Rheims presented, even
before sunrise, an extraordinary animation. From four o'clock in the
morning vehicles were circulating in the streets, and an hour after
people with tickets were directing their steps toward the Cathedral,
the men in uniform or court dress, the women in full dress. The sky was
clear and the weather cool.
Let us listen to an eye-witness, the Count d'Haussonville, the future
member of the French Academy:--
"Need I say that the competition had been ardent among women of the
highest rank to obtain access to the galleries of the Cathedral, which,
not having been reserved for the dignitaries, could receive a small
number of happy chosen ones? Such was the eagerness of this feminine
battalion to mount to the assault of the places whence they could see
and be seen, that at six o'clock in the morning when I presented myself
at the Gothic porch built of wood before the Cathedral, I found them
already there and under arms. They were in court dress, with trains,
all wearing, according to etiquette, uniform coiffures of lace passed
through the hair (what they called barbes), and which fell about their
necks and shoulders, conscientiously decolletes. For a cool May morning
it was rather a light costume; they were shivering with cold. In vain
they showed their tickets, and recited, in order to gain entrance,
their titles and their rank; the grenadier of the royal guard, charged
with maintaining order until the hour of the opening of the doors,
marched unmoved before these pretty beggars, among whom I remember to
have remarked the Countess of Choiseul, her sister, the Marchioness of
Crillon, the Countess of Bourbon-Bosset, etc. He had his orders from
his chief to let no one enter, and no one did."
Finally the doors were opened. At a quarter after six all the galleries
were filled. The foreign sovereigns were represented by especial
ambassadors: the King of Spain by the Duke of Villa-Hermosa, the
Emperor of Austria by Prince Esterhazy, the King of England by the Duke
of Northumberland, the Emperor of Russia by the Prince Wolkonski, the
King of Prussia by General de Zastrow. These various personages were
objects of curiosity to the crowd, as was Sidi-Mahmoud, ambassador of
the Bey of Tunis. The rich toilets and dazzling jewels of the ladies of
the court were admired; all eyes were fixed on the gallery where were
the Dauphiness, the Duchess of Berry, and the Duchess and Mademoiselle
d'Orleans, all four resplendent with diamonds. The spectacle was
magnificent. An array of marvels attracted attention. Behind the altar
the sacred vessels in gold, of antique form, the crown in diamonds
surmounted by the famous stone, the "Regent," the other attributes of
royalty on a cushion of velvet embroidered with fleurs-de-lis; on the
front of the altar the royal mantle, open, not less than twenty-four
feet in length; on the altar of green-veined marble, superb candelabra
in gold; on the centre of the cross of the church, suspended from the
ceiling above the choir and the prie-dieu of the King, an immense
canopy of crimson velvet, sown with golden fleurs-de-lis; at the back
of the choir, toward the nave, about one hundred and fifty feet from
the portal, the gigantic jube with its staircase of thirty steps; upon
this the throne; all around a swarm of standards, those of the five
companies of the King's body-guard, and the flag of his foot-guards,
borne by the superior officers; on the two sides of the stairway,
ranged en Echelon, the flags and standards of the regiments of the
guard and of the line in camp under the walls of Rheims; a splendor of
light, banishing all regret for the sun, from candelabra at the
entrance of the choir, from chandeliers in the galleries, from
chandeliers full of candles suspended from the ceiling, from tapers on
the columns.
The Cardinals de Clermont-Tonnerre and de La Fare, preceded by the
metropolitan chapter, came to seek the King in his apartment in the
palace. The Grand Preceptor knocked at the door of the royal chamber;
the Grand Chamberlain said in a loud voice:--
"What do you seek?" The Cardinal de Clermont-Tonnerre responded:--
"Charles X., whom God has given us for King."
Then the ushers opened the doors of the chamber. The two cardinals
entered and saluted the sovereign, who rose from his chair, bowed, and
received the holy water. The Cardinal de Clermont-Tonnerre recited a
prayer. The cortege was formed, and in the following order traversed
the great covered gallery which had been built along the right side of
the Cathedral:--
The metropolitan chapter; the King's foot-guards; the band; the
heralds-at-arms; the king-at-arms; the aides de ceremonies; the Grand
Master of Ceremonies, Marquis de Dreux-Breze; the four knights of the
Order of the Holy Spirit, who were to carry the offerings, viz. the
Duke de Vauguyon the wine in a golden vase, the Duke of Rochefoucauld
the pain d'argent, the Duke of Luxembourg the pain d'or, the Duke of
Gramont the ewers filled with silver medals; the King's pages on the
flanks; the Marshal Moncey, Duke of Conegliano, charged with the
functions of constable, holding in his hand his naked sword; the Duke
of Mortemart, captain-colonel of the foot-guards in ordinary to the
King; the Marshal Victor Duke of Bellune, major-general of the royal
guard; the Marshal Marquis de Lauriston, the Count de Cosse, and the
Duke de Polignac, named by the King to bear his train in the church;
then, with his two attendant cardinals, de Clermont-Tonnerre and de La
Fare, one at his right, the other at his left, the King.
There was a movement of curiosity, attention, and respect. Charles X.
had entered the Cathedral. The moment his foot crossed the threshold,
Cardinal de La Fare pronounced a prayer:--
"O God, who knowest that the human race cannot subsist by its own
virtue, grant Thy succor to Charles, Thy servant, whom Thou hast put at
the head of Thy people, that he may himself succor and protect those
subject to him."
Here, then, is Charles X. in that basilica where fifty years before,
Sunday, June 11, 1775, he assisted at the coronation of his brother
Louis XVI. Then he was seventeen. Ah! what would have been his surprise
had it been foretold to him by what strange and horrible series of
gloomy and bloody dramas he should himself come to be crowned in this
Cathedral of Rheims! What a contrast between the religious pomps of
June 11, 1775, and the sacrilegious scaffolds of January 21 and October
16, 1793! What a difference between the royal mantle of the sovereign
and the humble costume of the captive of the Temple, between the
resplendent toilet of the Queen of France and Navarre and the patched
gown of the prisoner of the Conciergerie! What a road travelled between
the hosannas of the priests and the insults of the Furies of the
Guillotine! What reflections might one make who had been present at
both the ceremonies! How much must such an one have been moved were he
the King himself, the brother of Louis XVI., Charles X.! But the 29th
of May, 1825, all hearts inclined to confidence and joy. Peoples forget
quickly, and there were but few to call up sinister memories. The
sovereign appeared in his first costume, a camisole of white satin,
with a cap rich with diamonds, surmounted by black and white plumes.
Despite his sixty-seven years, Charles X. had a fine presence, a
slender form, a manner almost youthful. State costumes became him
perfectly. He wore them with the elegance of the men of the old court.