During his absence from Paris the Emperor had not lost sight of his plans for the Coronation, and had sent his uncle Cardinal Fesch to Rome as a special ambassador. He was to arrange with the Pope to come to Paris to crown the new Charlemagne in his capital. If the Holy Father consented, Fesch had full powers to arrange with him all the details of the ceremony.

After much hesitation the Pope finally agreed to yield to the wishes of the Emperor and go to Paris. This unheard-of act of condescension filled the new sovereign with delight. The political consequences to him were enormous: on the one hand, it assured his standing with the large Catholic population of France, and on the other, it legitimized his title in the eyes of the other sovereigns of Europe, and put an end to the claims of the Bourbons.

The visit of the Pope to Paris was an event so extraordinary as to seem to every one almost incredible. When the report was first spread abroad, Madame Letitia, who was now called Madame Mère, was simply astounded at the thought that the Pope, il santissimo Padre, should condescend to make the journey to Paris to crown her bambino Napoleone as Emperor of the French! The good woman could hardly realize it.

No one had followed the negotiations with more interest than Joséphine. For her the important question was, would she be crowned with the Emperor? This, she thought, would mean an assured future, with no more worry over the perpetually recurring menace of divorce, which empoisoned her entire existence. As she had anticipated, the Bonapartes took this occasion to renew their efforts to persuade Napoleon to repudiate his wife, and this time they might have gained their end if they had used more tact. But they went too far in their attacks on Joséphine, and as usual only succeeded in arousing their brother’s wrath. In this crisis, Joséphine displayed so much grief, and at the same time so much submission to his wishes, that Napoleon could not bring himself to the point of repudiating her. “He took Joséphine in his arms, and told her effusively that he would never have the strength to part with her, even though public policy demanded it; then he promised her that she should be crowned with him, and receive at his side, from the hands of the Pope, the divine consecration.” Monsieur Thiers, in relating this incident, adds that he took it from the manuscript of the unpublished memoirs of a reliable person attached to the imperial family, who was an eye-witness of the scene.

The preparations for the Coronation were on a grand scale, and nothing was left undone to make the spectacle imposing and memorable. The costumes were designed by the great painters David and Isabey. The crown of the Emperor, modelled upon that of Charlemagne, was made by Foncier, the leading jeweller of Paris, and was a wonderful work of art. It can still be seen in the Gallery of Apollo at the Louvre.

In order to have the ceremony as perfect as possible, there were several “dress-rehearsals” held at Notre-Dame. David arranged the groups, and the scenes were repeated until each one knew his rôle perfectly. The painter profited by these rehearsals to make the sketches for his great painting of the Coronation, afterwards ordered by the Emperor, which now hangs in the Louvre. When some one said later to David that in his painting he had made Joséphine absurdly young, he replied: “Go and tell her so!”

For the Coronation two dates had been considered: first, the 14 July, anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, and second, the 9 November, the day of the 18 Brumaire, when Bonaparte overthrew the Directory. But both of these dates were manifestly inappropriate, and the delay of the Pope in reaching a decision finally caused the day to be set for the first week in December.

On the second day of November, the Pope, Pius the Seventh, then sixty-two years of age, left Rome for his long and tiresome journey to Paris. At the same time Napoleon was hurrying the work on the château of Fontainebleau, so that it should be ready to receive the Holy Father on his arrival. As if by magic, in less than three weeks the palace was redecorated and refurnished, with all its former splendor.

The Pope was expected to arrive on Sunday the 25 November. To avoid all ceremony, Napoleon, dressed in hunting costume, left the palace an hour before noon, and directed his horse to the part of the forest by which the Pope was to arrive. As soon as his carriage stopped, on meeting the Emperor, the Pope descended, and Napoleon dismounted. The two illustrious sovereigns embraced cordially, and then entered the Emperor’s carriage, which had been sent to meet them.

At the door of the palace, the Empress and the grand dignitaries of the Court were gathered, to meet the Supreme Pontiff. Dressed in a long white soutane, which fell around him like the drapery of an antique statue, with his face devoid of color, the Pope had a most ethereal air. His handsome and noble countenance, his sweet expression, his soft but resonant voice, produced a strong impression.

The two sovereigns dined together, and the Pope retired at an early hour, to rest after the fatigues of so long a journey. The following day Joséphine managed to have a confidential interview with the Pope, during which she confided to him the fact that she and Napoleon were only united by a civil bond. She prayed him to use all his influence with the Emperor to have him put an end to this situation which was filling her heart with remorse! “Rest in peace, my daughter,” he said on retiring, “that will be arranged.”

On Thursday the Pope made his entry into Paris, where he was received with the same honors accorded the Emperor. He was lodged at the Tuileries in the Pavillon de Flore, which had been prepared specially for his reception. He arrived at the palace about eight o’clock in the evening, in the same carriage with the Emperor. Joséphine, who left Fontainebleau in the morning, had reached Paris a few hours earlier.

All Paris was excited over the approach of the great day. The hotels were crowded with strangers who had come from far and near to be present at the ceremony. All the shops were working night and day to have the uniforms and the robes ready in time. The ladies were to wear ball-dresses, with trains, with a collerette of blond lace called cherusque, which, fastened upon the two shoulders and rising quite high behind the head, recalled the fashions of the time of Catherine de Médicis. The costumes of the men were also very rich.

A week before the ceremony the painter Isabey received from the Emperor an order to make seven sketches, representing the number of principal scenes in the spectacle at the cathedral. To prepare seven such designs, each containing over a hundred figures, in the short time at his disposal, was manifestly out of the question. In this dilemma Isabey conceived the ingenious idea of purchasing a hundred dolls and dressing them to represent the various personages. These he placed in a plan in relief of the interior of Notre-Dame, and took them to the Emperor. Napoleon was much amused and also much pleased at this solution of the problem, and the miniature stage with the puppets was used to instruct the actors as to their rôles in the spectacle.

The Pope kept his promise to Joséphine, and, on the night before the Coronation, Cardinal Fesch, at an altar erected in the Emperor’s cabinet, performed the religious marriage of Napoleon and Joséphine. No witnesses were present, but after the ceremony the cardinal gave Joséphine a formal certificate of her marriage, which she always carefully guarded.

At last the great day arrived. The second of December dawned cold and foggy, but the bright sun soon dissipated the mists. At an early hour the streets were crowded with spectators, and windows along the route of the procession rented as high as three hundred francs.

Before the departure for Notre-Dame the ladies of the palace were introduced to the apartment of the Empress. Their costumes were very brilliant, but they paled before those of the Imperial family. Joséphine, resplendent with diamonds, her hair dressed in the mode of Louis Quatorze, did not appear over twenty-five. She wore a robe and court mantle of silver brocade, embroidered with golden bees, the Imperial emblem. She had a head-band of diamonds, a necklace, earrings, and a girdle, of very great value, all of which she wore with her accustomed grace.

The Pope left the Tuileries at nine o’clock in a carriage drawn by eight dapple-grey horses. According to Roman usage he was preceded by one of his cameriers, mounted upon a mule, and bearing a large cross. This unaccustomed sight greatly amused the Parisians.

The Emperor and Empress started over an hour later. Their carriage, which is still preserved in the museum of the Grand-Trianon at Versailles, was drawn by eight cream-colored horses, covered with brilliant harnesses. It was decorated with allegorical paintings on a gold background, and all the panels were of glass, so that the sovereigns could be seen from every side. They left the Tuileries by way of the Carrousel, and followed the Rue Saint-Honoré, as the Rue de Rivoli was not then completed. Marshal Murat, at the head of twenty squadrons of cavalry, led the way, and eighteen six-horse carriages followed, with the principal personages of the Court. The streets were guarded by a double line of infantry, who kept back the crowds.

Arrived at the palace of the archbishop, Napoleon put on the coronation costume. Over a narrow robe of white satin, he wore a heavy mantle of crimson velvet. On his head he placed a crown of golden laurels; on his neck, the collar of the Légion d’honneur, in diamonds; at his side, a sword ornamented with the Regent diamond.

After the High Mass, the Pope blessed the Imperial ornaments, and then returned them to the Emperor: the ring, which he placed upon his finger; the sword, which he replaced in its sheath; the mantle, which was attached to his shoulders by the chamberlains; then the sceptre and the “hand of justice,” which he gave to the Arch-Treasurer and the Arch-Chancellor.

The only ornament which remained to be handed to the Emperor was the crown. As the Pope was about to proceed with this final act of the ceremony, Napoleon took from his hands the emblem of supreme power and proudly placed it himself upon his head.

It had been arranged that the train of the mantle of the Empress should be borne by the five Imperial princesses: Julie and Hortense, the wives of Joseph and Louis, and the three sisters of the Emperor, Élisa, Pauline and Caroline. It was not without violent protests that Napoleon’s sisters accepted this “servile” rôle.

When the moment arrived for Joséphine to take her part in the ceremony, she arose and advanced towards the steps of the altar, where the Emperor awaited her. All the ladies of the palace arose at the same time, and the princesses who formed her “service d’honneur” proceeded to perform their duty. The mantle of the Empress, of red velvet embroidered with golden bees, and lined with ermine, was very heavy, and the rôle of the princesses was far from being merely honorary. The three sisters entirely neglected their part and the Empress was unable to move forward. The quick eye of Napoleon at once took in the situation, and a few sharp words to his sisters quelled the mutiny.

Arrived before the altar, Joséphine knelt, joined her hands, and gracefully bowed her form. Napoleon then placed upon her head the small closed crown surmounted by a cross; he even seemed to take a loving pleasure in carefully arranging it upon her hair. Joséphine had never been so happy, or seemed so charming as on this occasion. Isabey, who had touched up her features with his painter’s art, had removed the traces of time, and she looked fifteen years younger than her real age. The head of Joséphine in David’s well known painting is a faithful representation of her appearance on this day.

Mlle. Avrillon writes in her Mémoires: “Never have I seen upon any countenance an expression of joy, of satisfaction, of happiness, which could be compared to that which animated the face of the Empress: she was radiant! The crown placed upon her brow by the hands of her august spouse had assured her future, and seemed for all time to have ended the rumors of divorce with which she had been so often tormented.”

After the ceremony the procession returned to the Tuileries by way of the boulevards and the present Rue Royale, and entered the palace from the Gardens. The day had been long and tiresome, and Napoleon was glad to resume his modest uniform of colonel of the Chasseurs de la Garde. He dined alone with Joséphine, whom he begged to retain the diadem which she wore so gracefully, and which became her so well. He was in excellent humor, and paid his wife a thousand compliments, saying that she was the most charming empress in the world!

The Coronation was followed by a series of fêtes. On the 5 December the Emperor distributed to the Army the Imperial eagles. The ceremony took place on the Champ-de-Mars in the presence of the Empress and all the high dignitaries of the Empire. Unfortunately the weather was terrible: an icy rain fell in torrents, and the field was a sea of mud. Notwithstanding the storm, the streets along the route of the procession were crowded with spectators. In the evening there was a grand banquet, served in the Galerie de Diane at the Tuileries. The table of the sovereigns was placed on a magnificent dais: the Empress was seated in the centre, with the Emperor at her right, and the Pope at her left.

Of all the entertainments, the finest was that given by the marshals at the Opéra on the 7 January 1805. The hall was transformed into a magnificent ball-room, by a floor built over the parquet on a level with the stage. The marshals arrived at eight o’clock, the Empress at ten, and the Emperor an hour later. After a concert, the ball was opened by Prince Louis, Marshal Murat, Eugène de Beauharnais, and Marshal Berthier, who danced with the four Imperial princesses. The Emperor twice made the tour of the room, and then retired at an early hour.

The last of the fêtes was the baptism on the 24 March at Saint-Cloud of Napoleon-Louis, the second son of Louis and Hortense. The ceremony was performed by the Pope himself, a week before his departure for Rome. Joséphine had been the godmother of the older boy, but on this occasion Madame Mère was chosen to fill the rôle. Joséphine was entirely satisfied, as this baptism seemed to seal the reconciliation between the two families, and assure her future, as well as that of her grandson.

From this date, up to the time of the divorce, there were no more solemn baptisms. Napoleon and Joséphine indeed promised to give their names to many children, but the Emperor always put off the ceremony, which finally took place at Fontainebleau in November 1810. But on this occasion there was another marraine, and the numerous Joséphines were presented at the font by a new Empress, who was called Marie-Louise!