A Lavish Journey to Kingship

In June 1775, Louis XVI embarked on a journey to Reims for his coronation, traveling in a magnificent new carriage that weighed 1.5 tons and cost at least 50,000 livres—a sum equivalent to seventy times the annual salary of most parish priests. This extravagant vehicle was adorned with symbols of Bourbon power: fleurs-de-lis, the coats of arms of France and Navarre, and small statues crafted from solid gold. The opulence of the procession was carefully choreographed to reflect the title “Rex Christianissimus” , a designation that underscored the sacred nature of French monarchy. Upon arrival, the Duke of Bourbon, governor of Champagne, presented the keys of the city of Reims to the young king, initiating a ceremony steeped in centuries of tradition.

Inside the cathedral, Louis XVI, clothed in purple velvet and ermine, received the holy unction with oil believed to have been used at the baptism of Clovis, the first Frankish king, in 496. He swore oaths to protect the Church and eradicate heresy, while the archbishop exhorted him to give alms to the poor, set an example for the wealthy, and uphold peace. The ceremony culminated in one of the monarchy’s most mystical rites: the royal touch. Accompanied by his 19-year-old queen, Marie Antoinette, the 20-year-old king laid hands on 2,400 individuals afflicted with scrofula, a tubercular disease of the lymph nodes known as “the king’s evil.” These sufferers had journeyed to Reims in the hope that the monarch’s touch would bring healing, a practice that symbolized the divine authority and benevolence of the French crown.

The Fabric of the Ancien Régime

By the time of Louis XVI’s coronation, the Bourbon dynasty had woven together the largest kingdom in Europe outside of Russia, a patchwork of privileges, histories, and traditions accumulated over eight centuries. Every aspect of public life bore the imprint of this long process of state formation and compromise with newly incorporated provinces. Privilege was inherently local: certain towns and provinces enjoyed preferential tax status, while the clergy and nobility held privileges that dictated how they were taxed and judged—and how they, in turn, governed others.

The inhabitants of 18th-century France were united by two dominant characteristics: 97% were both Catholic and subjects of Louis XVI, “by the grace of God, King of France and Navarre.” The breathtaking Palace of Versailles, with its 700 rooms and 575-meter-wide gardens—largely completed under Louis XIV in 1710—stood as a powerful symbol of absolute monarchy. This vast complex embodied the king’s authority, derived directly from God and exercised for the supposed happiness of his subjects. Louis XV and Louis XVI continued this tradition of royal display, yet beneath the surface of unity lay profound diversity and fragmentation.

A Kingdom of Many Tongues and Traditions

Despite the 1539 Ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts, issued by Francis I, which mandated the use of French in official records and judicial documents, the linguistic reality of France was far more complex. Only a minority of subjects spoke the version of French understood by the king. Across much of the country, French was primarily the language of administration, commerce, and certain professions. The clergy used Latin and French but preached in regional dialects or languages. Millions in Languedoc spoke variants of Occitan; those in the northeast spoke Flemish; in Lorraine, German was common. Near the Spanish border, Basque and Catalan prevailed, while in Brittany, about a million people spoke Celtic languages.

This linguistic diversity was symptomatic of deeper regional identities. As one traveler, the Abbé Albert, noted when journeying from the Alps through Auvergne, communication with local peasants was nearly impossible despite attempts to use French, Latin, or regional accents. Even in northern France, dialects and accents varied significantly from one area to another. These differences reflected a France where local allegiance often overshadowed national identity, a reality that would profoundly shape the coming revolution.

Geographic and Social Diversity

France’s physical landscape was as varied as its cultures. The country encompassed Europe’s highest peaks—Mont Blanc at 4,800 meters and the Pyrenees reaching 3,000 meters—as well as the broad, flat plains of the Paris Basin and the rugged terrain of the Massif Central. Settlement patterns ranged from the dense villages and small towns of the south to the scattered farms and hamlets of the west. Regional differences in architecture, agricultural practices, and local products were pronounced, creating a tapestry of distinct identities that fascinated travelers then as now.

By the 1780s, France’s population had grown to about 28 million, nearly double what it is today in relative terms, with most people living in rural areas. Only one-fifth of the population resided in towns of 2,000 or more; the majority inhabited 40,000 rural communes or parishes, each averaging around 600 inhabitants. These communities were largely agricultural, with farming methods and crop choices adapted to local conditions. Subsistence farming dominated, with families relying on mixed agriculture to meet their needs—a system that left little margin for failure.

The Pillars of Authority and Burden of Privilege

Rural life was underpinned by three pillars of authority: the monarchy, the Catholic Church . Together, royal taxes, ecclesiastical tithes, and feudal dues levied by lords consumed between 15% and 40% of peasants’ income, depending on the region. Despite these burdens, population growth after 1750—fueled by a series of good harvests—pushed numbers from about 24.5 million to 28 million by the 1780s. This increase strained resources and heightened tensions, as more people competed for land and sustenance.

The Church, as the First Estate, wielded significant spiritual and temporal power. It collected tithes, operated schools and hospitals, and enjoyed exemption from many taxes. The nobility, or Second Estate, held monopolies on high offices in government, the military, and the judiciary. They collected seigneurial dues and exercised judicial authority over their domains. The Third Estate—everyone else, from wealthy merchants to impoverished peasants—shouldered the heaviest tax burdens while being largely excluded from positions of power.

The Seeds of Discontent

Beneath the splendor of Louis XVI’s coronation lay simmering discontent. The cost of the ceremony—exemplified by the lavish carriage and festivities—stood in stark contrast to the hardships faced by ordinary people. The monarchy’s financial troubles were deepening, exacerbated by costly wars and inefficient tax collection. Enlightenment ideas challenging divine-right monarchy and privilege were spreading among educated elites, while rural communities chafed under the weight of feudal obligations.

The ceremony of the royal touch, intended to demonstrate the king’s sacred role, also highlighted the gap between royal myth and reality. As scrofula sufferers sought healing, many must have wondered whether the touch of a distant monarch could truly address their woes. The ritual, once a powerful symbol of royal benevolence, now seemed anachronistic to some, a relic of a world that was rapidly changing.

Legacy and Modern Relevance

The coronation of Louis XVI and the society it represented would soon be swept away by the French Revolution. The very privileges and traditions so vividly displayed at Reims became targets of revolutionary fervor. The monarchy’s inability to reform itself, coupled with economic crisis and social inequality, led to the upheavals of 1789 and beyond. The Revolution sought to replace a kingdom of privilege with a nation of citizens, united by common laws and rights.

Today, the story of Louis XVI’s coronation offers insights into the complexities of pre-revolutionary France. It reminds us of the power of symbolism in politics and the dangers of disconnection between rulers and ruled. The linguistic and regional diversity that characterized the ancien régime continues to influence modern France, where regional identities and languages are still celebrated. The Revolution’s legacy—of liberty, equality, and fraternity—remains a foundational part of French identity, even as the nation grapples with the tensions between unity and diversity.

The lavish carriage that carried Louis XVI to his coronation now sits in a museum, a relic of a vanished world. Its story, and that of the society it represented, serves as a poignant reminder of how quickly fortunes can change—and how the most enduring monuments of power can become symbols of its fragility.