mained unaltered till the commencement of the harvest, the
citizens themselves presently making a jest of their sedition, and
nicknaming it The War of the Grains.[4]
In France, one excitement soon drives out another, and the whole attention
of the nation was now fixed on the coronation, which had been appointed to
take place in June. After some discussion, it had been settled that Louis
should be crowned alone. There had not been many precedents for the
coronation of a queen in France; and the last instance, that of Marie de
Medicis, as having been followed by the assassination of her husband, was
regarded by many as a bad omen. If Marie Antoinette had herself expressed
any wish to be her husband's partner in the solemnity, it would certainly
have been complied with, and their subsequent fate would have been
regarded as a confirmation of the evil augury. But she was indifferent on
the subject, and quite contented to behold it as a spectator. It took
place on Sunday, the 11th of June, in the grand Cathedral at Rheims. The
progress of the royal family, which had quit Versailles for that city on
the preceding Monday, had resembled a triumphant procession, so
enthusiastic had been the acclamations which had greeted the king and
queen at each town through which they had passed; and all the previous
displays of joy were outdone by the demonstrations afforded by the
citizens of Rheims itself. It was midnight, on the 8th of June, when the
queen reached the gates; but the road outside and the streets inside were
thronged with a crowd as dense as midday could have produced, which
followed her to the archbishop's palace, making the whole city resound
with their loyal cheers; and which, the next morning, awaited her
coming-forth after holding a grand reception of all the nobles of the
province, to meet the king when he made his solemn entry in the
afternoon. The ceremony in the cathedral was one of great magnificence;
but, in the account of the day which, after her return to Versailles,
she wrote to her mother, she does not enter into details, as being
necessarily known to the empress in their general character; confining
herself rather to a description of the impression which the manifest
cordiality with which the whole people had entered into the spirit of
the solemnity had made upon her own mind and heart.[5]
"The coronation was perfect in every respect. It was made plain that every
one was highly delighted with the king, and
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