THE NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. CORONATION OF THE KINGS OF FRANCE PRIOR TO THE REVOLUTION. BY CHARLES WHITE, ESQ. ON looking down from the galleries of Westminster Abbey, upon the imposing spectacle of a coronation, an Englishman may fancy himself carried back to the early days of British chivalry and feudal grandeur. He may imagine that he sees not the descendants, but the very ancestors of those nobles, warriors, and churchmen, whose wisdom, valour, and piety, have immortalised their country's name, and extended her dominion to the farthest corners of the habitable globe. This illusion may be easily accounted for when one considers that the beauty of British women retains that lustre for which fair Rosamond, Mary of Scotland, Jane Grey, and a thousand others were universally celebrated; whilst the men have lost nothing of that stalwart energy and steadfast courage which rendered them triumphant upon the plains of Crecy and Azincourt-that the state costume of the officiating peers, prelates, knights, squires, heralds, and pursuivants, has undergone little variation since the Reformation-that the yeomen-guards are attired as they were in the fifteenth century-that the ecclesiastical and secular ceremonies have suffered little modification since the death of Elizabeth-and that the feudal services, in right of tenures, are " done and performed" according to the most ancient forms and precedents;-in short, that many of the very emblems and ornaments employed upon this occasion have served at the consecration of a long line of glorious monarchs, from the days of Edward the Confessor down to those of our youthful and beauty-breathing Queen. The Reformation, which substituted one religion for another in Great Britain, did not destroy British respect for ancient customs, or British veneration for the memory and practice of those rites and courtly pageantries that were founded by our ancestors. With the Revolution, which exiled one royal race and introduced another, no change took place in English attachment to monarchy, or to those venerable ceremonials that were wont to add so much lustre to the crown. The physical representatives of majesty were no longer of the same blood, but no perceptible alteration took place in the general desire of Englishmen to uphold and add splendour to the attributes of royalty. England was free and seeking to diffuse freedom, ere the word, constitution, was known to other States. where we, as it were, terminated. June.-VOL. LIII. NO. CCX. The latter commenced, therefore, They had to establish what we had L only to amend-they had to tear down and remodel what we were seeking to strengthen and beautify; and, as is always the case with unruly and inexperienced craftsmen, they fell to work, not only to overturn the ancient structure, but to ruin and immolate each other in order to obtain the situation of first architect for the new one. Not content, indeed, with uprooting the venerable pile-its turrets, keep, and courts -all, in short, which could remind them of olden days, they laid violent hands upon the furniture, and vented their fury even upon the records of gone-by times, glories, and observances. Every emblem of past privileges or aristocratic supremacy was, to them, a memorial of servtude, and every reminiscence of former feudal power a portrait of their former vassalage. Such, at least, was the case in France, when the Revolution either effaced or polluted, with its blood-stained fingers, every vestige of those imposing rites which had been cherished and maintained with scrupulous fidelity, from the first enthronement of the Merovingian monarchs, down to that of the ill-fated Louis. Napoleon-that marvellous example and admixture of destruction and regeneration, of liberty and despotism, of devotion and scepticism, of grandeur and abasement-Napoleon stretched forth his giant arm and endeavoured to exhume a portion of these mutilated relics; but, however gorgeous might have been the spectacle represented in Notre Dame de Paris at the coronation of that conqueror, and in despite of the presence of Pius the Seventh,* it had more the air of a theatrical pageant or military ovation than of a religious ceremony, intended to add sanctity to the sacred character hitherto attributed by the French nation to those sovereigns whose ancestors had reigned over them in uninterrupted succession during a lapse of more than twelve centuries. The sceptre in the hand of Napoleon, as he stood before the altar surrounded by his devoted legions, reminded men of the fierce and irresistible Attila, brandishing the sword of conquest over a vanquished people, and not of St. Louis, upraising the wand of justice, as an amblem of earthly right and divine approbation. Louis the Eighteenth having died without being crowned, his successor, Charles the Tenth, who had figured at the consecration of Louis the Sixteenth, as representative of the Duke of Normandy (one of the ancient lay peerages of France†), no sooner mounted the throne than he resolved to revive the ceremonies, and re-establish all the obsolete usages that had been adhered to at the coronations of his legitimate predecesRheims, which claimed the honour of being the coronation-place. of the great majority of French kings, from Clovis to Louis the Sixteenth, was re-endowed with its ancient privileges. Therefore, in the sors. *The following epigram was affixed to the statue of Pasquino at Rome, when H. H. Pio the Seventh proceeded to France to crown Napoleon : "Romani vi diro un bel quadro, D' uno santo padre che fu coronar un' ladro- The other five lay peers were the Dukes of Burgundy and Aquitaine, with the Counts of Toulouse, Flanders, and Champagne. All the French kings, from Louis the Seventh to Louis the Sixteenth, were crowned at Rheims, excepting Henry the Fourth, who was consecrated (1594) at Chartres with the holy oil preserved in the Abbey of Marmontre. month of June, 1825, that ancient city saw itself once more transported to the most brilliant days of regal splendour and ecclesiastical majesty. But here again the workings of the revolution and of the empire showed their fruits. The church, in despite of the dazzling brilliancy and pomp of its representatives, no longer possessed the same moral power over the multitude. Many of those rites and mysteries, which had formerly been regarded as inherent and inalienable portions of faith, and consequently, as of divine origin, were scoffed at as priestly mystifications, the result of fraud and superstition. There was an outward appearance of deference towards the dignitaries of the church, but little inward veneration. There was a mighty display, also, of enthusiasm for the king; but scarcely a single expression of loyalty or attachment arose from the people that was not accompanied by some mental reservation. The secular performers, also, were mingled together in apparent harmony, and all parties present seemed to fraternise and rejoice at the resuscitation of those ceremonies that were the reflection of the mightiest days of olden France; but, although the illustrious descendants of men, who owed their nobility to Charlemagne or the Crusades, stood hand in hand with those whose titles and dignities dated no further back than Wagram and the Moskwa; the former sank into nothingness, at least in the minds of the people, when compared with those new creations which so amply flattered the national vanity by recalling the defeat of a dozen vanquished nations. Nay, the simple cross of the Legion of Honour was more glorious in their sight than the jewel-studded collars and diamond-sparkling stars of St. Louis and the St. Esprit; whilst the war-worn faces of some still surviving veterans of the old guard appeared infinitely more illustrious than those of the noblest descendants of the Montmorencys or Grammonts. All eyes were fixed upon the legitimate monarch, but, with the exception of those who had shared the bitter cup of adversity with the restored family, all hearts and thoughts were with that empire and revolution by which so many had attained unbounded wealth and honours, and had risen to a level with peers and princes. The magnificence displayed at the consecration of Charles the Tenth was unrivalled. Nothing was omitted that could add splendour or solemnity to the scene; but, as before stated, there was little inward veneration for the imposing rites of the church, and still less respect for those ancient customs that were revived for the occasion. Every part of the ceremony that brought before men's eyes the forgotten privileges of the hereditary nobility was looked upon with jealousy by that of recent creation, and was considered as an attempt to restore those feudal exactions which had been anathematised by the Republic, and left in abeyance by the Emperor. In short, the volcano that was destined to burst forth ere yet the echo of the hosannahs of consecration had died away, was smouldering beneath the royal feet; so that the king and his venerable adherents stood there as memorials of what France had struggled to abolish, not as models of what she was desirous to reinstate. The gorgeous splendour of Charles the Tenth's coronation, and the apparent unction and sincerity with which the dignitaries of the kingdom pressed around him, serve but to render more striking the contrast between that pageant and the misguided monarch's expulsion in 1839. How forcibly does his fate and that of his family remind one of old Quarles' lines! "And what's a life? A weary pilgrimage, Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage Of the proud summer meadow, which, to-day, There is little prospect of Louis Philippe attempting any of the coronation ceremonies, looked upon as indispensable by the older Bourbons. It is more than probable, also, that his successor will follow his example; therefore, unless some most extraordinary change should take place in men's minds, neither natives nor foreigners are likely to have any opportunity of again witnessing one of those august ceremonies in France. Such being the case, it may not be uninteresting, at the present moment, to offer an outline of the French coronations, such as they were solemnised prior to the Revolution. The first French monarch publicly crowned and anointed, according to the rites of Christianity, was Clovis. This solemnity took place upon Christmas Eve, 496, in the city of Rheims, the then capital of Belgian Gaul (Gaule Belgique), where St. Remi, with a vast concourse of prelates and priests, had congregated for the purpose. 66 Upon this occasion," says Gregory de Tours, "the streets were carpeted with flowers, the adjacent buildings were ornamented with banners and tapestry, the churches were hung with costly white draperies, fragrant perfumes embalmed the air, and the glare of innumerable tapers added lustre to the light of day." It was not so much the coronation, however, as the conversion of Clovis, that lent importance and sanctity to this imposing spectacle. For the king not only prostrated himself before the altar to receive the unction of royalty, but that of salvation; he having abjured the errors of idolatry and embraced the blessings of Christianity upon that day. If we are to give credit to Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, who lived in 848, the Divine satisfaction at this conversion was manifested after a most marvellous manner; it being asserted by him that the celebrated Sainte Ampoule (holy phial), containing the sacred oil destined to anoint Clovis and his successors, was brought direct from heaven by a dove, and delivered into the hands of St. Remi, who was apprised of its origin and destination by a vision. This Sainte Ampoule formed so prominent a feature in all French coronations, from that period down to the time of Louis the Sixteenth, and even of Charles the Tenth, that it is necessary not only to mention its accredited origin, but to describe, ere we proceed further, the ceremonies attending its removal to Notre Dame de Rheims from the Abbey of St. Remi, where it was preserved within the founder's tomb.* So great was the importance attached to the preservation of this relic, that, ere the prior and chapter of St. Remi would permit it to be removed *St. Remi died and was canonised in 535. The archbishops, his successors, had the titles of first dukes and ecclesiastical peers of France, primates of Belgian Gaul, and hereditary legates of the Holy See. It was their exclusive privilege to perform the ceremonies of anointment and coronation. from their custody, four noblemen, selected by the king, were sent to serve as hostages for its safety, and a guard of honour, consisting of fifty inhabitants of Chêne le Pouilleux,* who claimed this privilege from time immemorial, was appointed to watch over it during its transfer. Upon these occasions it was transported, in a richly-chased reliquary, suspended to the neck of the grand prior, who bestrode a beautiful white palfrey (haquenée), which, with its embroidered housings, and the costly canopy borne above the prior's head, were gifts from the King to the Chapter of St. Remi-a gift against which the inhabitants of Chêne le Pouilleux most energetically protested; for they were not content with claiming the right of escort, but that of receiving the horse, furniture, and canopy, as their especial perquisite. This claim was founded, as they affirmed, upon a grant of Charles the Seventh, who accorded this privilege to their ancestors, as a recompense for their having defeated a body of English near Rheims, and thus rescued the Sainte Ampoule from their sacrilegious grasp. On the other hand, the Chapter treated this pretension as a fabrication, and declared that the inhabitants of Chêne had no other title whatever even to serve as escort to the Sainte Ampoule, save what they derived from having been vassals to the abbey of St. Remi, prior to the reign of Charles the Seventh. This assertion apparently coincided with the King's opinion, for he directed his presents to be delivered, pendente lite, to the care of the Chapter, to whom they were subsequently awarded. In order to make assurance doubly sure," and to add greater solemnity to the delivery of the Sainte Ampoule into the hands of the prelate appointed to anoint the Sovereign, the lords-hostages above mentioned were compelled to make oath that they would expose their lives in its defence, and that they were ready, not only to offer up their property as security for its safe return, but that they were willing to remain prisoners in the abbey until it should be restored. These and other preliminaries being settled, the relic was extracted from the tomb of St. Remi, and the procession commenced its progress towards Notre Dame. First appeared a long train of priests, monks, and choristers; then came a deputy-master of the ceremonies, and a field-officer of the King's Guards, attired in rich mantles, and handsomely mounted; after these rode two of the lords-hostages, attended by their esquires, bearing banners; they were followed by the grand prior, carrying the Sainte Ampoule, beneath a splendid canopy, the four poles of which were borne by an equal number of noblemen, called knightsbarons of the Sainte Ampoule-a privilege attached to the four baronies of Terrier, Bellestre, Neuvizy, and Souastre; in the rear of the canopy came the two remaining lords-hostages and their esquires, followed by various functionaries belonging to the jurisdiction of the abbey, whilst the flanks were covered by the inhabitants of Chêne, in green uniforms; on the outside of these were two companies of French and Swiss Guards, who closed the procession, which, upon reaching the door of the metropolitan church, was met by the archbishop, attended by his suffragans and assistant clergy. The prior, having dismounted, requested the archbishop to engage, on * Chêne le Pouilleux, a town six leagues from Rheims, on the road to Rhetel. |