Louis Philippe John S. C. Abbott 1544 downloads.pdf

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Louis Philippe
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will
have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
this eBook.

Title: Louis Philippe

Author: John S. C. Abbott

Release date: February 26, 2009 [eBook #28199]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28199

Credits: E-text prepared by D. Alexander and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Team

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOUIS
PHILIPPE ***

E-text prepared by D. Alexander
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(http://www.pgdp.net)
from digital material generously made available by

Internet Archive
(http://www.archive.org/)

Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet
Archive. See
http://www.archive.org/details/louisphilippe00abboiala

Makers of History

Louis Philippe
BY

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT
WITH ENGRAVINGS

NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1904

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
Harper & Brothers,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Copyright, 1899, by Susan Abbott Mead.

LOUIS PHILIPPE AT THE
HÔTEL DE VILLE.

PREFACE.
It would be difficult to find, in all the range of the past, a man whose career
has been so full of wonderful and exciting vicissitude as that of Louis
Philippe. His life covers the most eventful period in French history. The
storms of 1789 consigned his father to the guillotine, his mother and
brothers to imprisonment, and himself and sister to poverty and exile. There
are few romances more replete with pensive interest than the wanderings of
Louis Philippe to escape the bloodhounds of the Revolution far away
amidst the ices of Northern Europe, to the huts of the Laplanders, and again
through the almost unbroken wilds of North America, taking refuge in the
wigwams of the Indians, and floating with his two brothers in a boat a
distance of nearly two thousand miles through the solemn solitudes of the
Ohio and the Mississippi from Pittsburg to the Gulf.
Again we see the duke, on the recovery of a large portion of his estates,
enjoying the elegant retreat at Twickenham, fêted by the nobility of
England, and caressed by the aristocracy of Europe.
Again the kaleidoscope of changeful life is turned. The Empire falls. The
Bourbons are restored. Louis Philippe returns to the palaces of his fathers.
In rank, he takes his stand next to the throne. In wealth, he is the richest
subject in Europe. At one moment he is caressed by Royalty, hoping to win
his support, and again he is persecuted by Royalty, fearing his influence.
There is another change. The throne of the Bourbons is overthrown. Louis
Philippe finds himself, as by magic, King of the French. He exchanges his
ducal coronet for a royal crown. He enters the regal mansions of the
Tuileries, Versailles, Saint Cloud, and Fontainebleau the acknowledged
sovereign of thirty millions of people. All the proud dynasties of Europe
recognize him as belonging to the family of kings. Eighteen years pass
away, crowded with the splendor, cares, toils, and perils which seem ever to
environ royalty. During this period the adventures of the Duchess de Berri
to regain the throne for her son, the Count de Chambord, presents an
episode of extraordinary interest.

There is another change. The tocsin of insurrection tolls its dismal knell in
the towers of Paris. Through scenes surpassing fable, the king and his
family escape to the hospitable shores of England. Here, in obscurity and
exile, he reaches the end of life's journey, and passes away to the unknown
of the spirit-land. Such is the wonderful story which we have endeavored to
compress within the limits of these brief pages. Every event here narrated is
sustained by documentary evidence beyond the possibility of a doubt.
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
Fair Haven, Conn.

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ORIGIN OF THE HOUSE OF 13
ORLEANS
II. THE EXILE 45
III. WANDERINGS IN THE OLD 76
WORLD AND THE NEW
IV. THE TOMB AND THE BRIDAL 109
V. THE RESTORATION 136
VI. THE DEATH OF LOUIS XVIII. 168
AND THE REIGN OF
CHARLES X
VII. CHARLES X. DETHRONED 204
VIII. THE STRUGGLES OF 241
DIPLOMACY
IX. LOUIS PHILIPPE'S THRONE 279
X. THE ADVENTURES OF THE 306
DUCHESS DE BERRI
XI. THE FINAL STRUGGLE 349
XII. THE THRONE DEMOLISHED 379

ENGRAVINGS.
PAGE
LOUIS PHILIPPE AT THE HÔTEL Frontispiece.
DE VILLE
EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI 27
STORMING THE BASTILE 40
FLIGHT AND IMPRISONMENT OF 50
LAFAYETTE
SAINT GOTHARD 71
NORTH CAPE 80
LOUIS XVII. IN PRISON 113
LOUIS XVIII. LEAVING PARIS 147
NAPOLEON ENTERING THE 151
TUILERIES
MARSHAL NEY 162
ASSASSINATION OF THE DUKE 171
DE BERRI
PALACE OF ST. CLOUD 222
CHARLES X. AT VALOGNES 234
THE PALAIS ROYAL 275
THE BARRICADE 312
ST. HELENA 353
LOUIS PHILIPPE LEAVING 391
FRANCE

LOUIS PHILIPPE.

Chapter I.

Origin of the House of Orleans.
1669-1793

T he origin of the House of Orleans is involved in
some obscurity. The city of Orleans, from which the Louis and Philippe.
duke takes his title, was the Aurelium of imperial Rome.
The first Duke of Orleans with whom history makes us familiar was Philip,
the only brother of Louis XIV. Louis XIII., the son and heir of Henry IV.,
married Anne of Austria. Two children were born to them, Louis and
Philippe. The first became the world-renowned monarch, Louis XIV. His
brother, known in history as Monsieur, enjoyed the title and the princely
revenues of the dukedom of Orleans.
Monsieur married, as his first wife, the beautiful
Henrietta Stuart, daughter of the unfortunate Charles I. The regent.
of England. Her mother was Henrietta of France, the
daughter of Henry IV., and sister of Louis XIII. She died in the bloom of
youth and beauty, of poison, after the most cruel sufferings, on the 27th of
June, 1669.[A] Philippe took as his second wife Elizabeth Charlotte,
daughter of the Elector Charles of Bavaria. By this marriage he left a son,
Philippe, who not only inherited his father's almost boundless wealth and
princely titles, but who attained wide-spread notoriety, not to say renown,
as the regent of France, after the death of Louis XIV., and during the
minority of Louis XV. The regent was a man of indomitable force of will.
During his long regency he swayed the sceptre of a tyrant; and the ear of
Europe was poisoned with the story of his debaucheries.
He married a legitimated daughter of Louis XIV., Marie
Françoise de Blois, a haughty, capricious beauty. His Louis de Valois.
scandalous immoralities alienated his duchess from him,
and no happiness was to be found amidst the splendors of their home.
Dying suddenly, at the age of fifty-one, his son Louis succeeded him in the
vast opulence, the titles, and the power of the dukedom of Orleans. The
following list of his titles may give some idea of the grandeur to which

these ancient nobles were born. Louis de Valois, De Chartres, De Nemours,
and De Montpensier, First Prince of the blood, First Peer of France, Knight
of the Golden Fleece, Colonel-general of the French and Foreign Infantry,
Governor of Dauphiny, and Grand Master of the Orders of Nôtre Dame, of
Mount Carmel, and of St. Lazarus of Jerusalem.
Born, as this young man was, in the palace of splendor, and surrounded by
every allurement to voluptuous indulgence, two domestic calamities opened
his eyes to the vanity of all earthly grandeur, and led him to enter those
paths of piety where his soul found true repose. The death of his father, cut
down suddenly in the midst of his godless revelry, and the decease of his
beloved wife, Auguste Marie Jeanne, a princess of Baden, in her twenty-
second year, so impressed him with the uncertainty of all terrestrial good,
and left his home and his heart so desolate, that he retired to the Abbey of
St. Geneviève, and devoted the remainder of his days to study, to prayer,
and to active works of Christian usefulness.
He became a proficient in the fine arts, an accomplished scholar, and a
patron of all those literary men whose works tended to benefit society. He
founded hospitals and literary institutions; established a college at
Versailles; endowed a professorship at the Sorbonne for expounding the
Hebrew text of the Scriptures, and translated, from the original Greek and
Hebrew, the Epistles of Paul and the Psalms of David. At the early age of
forty-eight he died—cheerfully fell asleep in Jesus, rejoicing in the hope of
a heavenly inheritance. Few men who have ever lived have crowded their
days with more kind, useful, and generous actions.
His son, Louis Philippe, acquired the sobriquet of le
Gros, or the Fat, from his excessive corpulence. His Louis le Gros.
unwieldy body probably contributed to that indolence of
mind which induced him to withdraw from nearly all participation in
political life. Louis XV. was one of the vilest of men, and by a portion of his
subjects was thoroughly detested. Exasperated by an act of gross despotism,
the deputies from Brittany offered to furnish Louis Philippe with sixty
thousand men, completely armed, to overthrow the reigning dynasty, and to
establish in its place the House of Orleans. The prince received the
deputation courteously, but decidedly declined embarking in the enterprise,
avowing that he had not sufficient energy of character to meet its demand,

and that he was too much attached to his relative, Louis XV., to engage in a
conspiracy against him. He was an amiable, upright man, avoiding
notoriety, and devoting himself to literary pursuits. Being of the blood
royal, the etiquette of the French court did not allow him to enter into
marriage relations with any one in whose veins the blood of royalty did not
flow. His first wife, Louise Henriette de Bourbon Conti, was a princess of
royal lineage. Upon her death he married Madame de Montesson, a
beautiful woman, to whom he was exceedingly attached. But the haughty
Court of France refused to recognize the marriage. Notwithstanding his
earnest solicitations, he was not permitted to confer upon her the title of
Duchess of Orleans.
Even when he died, in the year 1785, court etiquette
would not allow his widow to assume any public Pride of royalty.
demonstrations of mourning. "The blood of a Capet," it
was said, "is too pure to admit of a recognized alliance below the rank of
royalty."
Such, in brief, was the character and career of the first four dukes of this
illustrious house. We are thus brought down to the exciting scenes of
modern history—to scenes in which the house of Orleans has acted a part so
conspicuous as to attract the attention of the civilized world.
The fourth duke of whom we have spoken, and his first
wife, Henrietta de Bourbon Conti, had a son born on the Birth of Egalité.
13th of April, 1747, at the Palace of St. Cloud. They
gave their child the name of Louis Philippe Joseph d'Orleans. During the
life-time of his father he bore the title of the Duke de Chartres. No expense
was spared in his education, his parents providing for him teachers of the
highest eminence in all the branches of knowledge. Though the young
prince developed much energy and activity of mind, he was not fond of
study, and did not make any remarkable progress in book-learning.
Surrounded by flatterers, and in the enjoyment of almost
boundless wealth, as the appetites and passions of youth Fortune of the Duke
grew strong, he plunged into the most extravagant of Orleans.
excesses of dissipation. He is described at this time as a young man of
handsome features and graceful figure, above the average size. His skin was

remarkable for its softness and whiteness, and a very sweet smile generally
played upon his lips. Though simple in his ordinary style of living, upon all
state occasions he displayed grandeur commensurate with his wealth and
rank. Immense as was the fortune to which he was born, it was greatly
enhanced by his marriage with the Princess Marie Therese Louise, only
daughter of the Duke of Penthièvre, the most richly-endowed heiress in
Europe. Thus he attained wealth which made him the richest subject in
Europe, and which enabled him almost to outvie the splendors of royalty.
But, notwithstanding this vast wealth, he plunged so recklessly into
extravagance that his pecuniary affairs became much embarrassed.
His father died in the year 1785, just as the storms of the French Revolution
were beginning to darken the horizon. The Duke of Chartres then took the
title of the Duke of Orleans, and rushed into the tumult of revolution with
eagerness and energy, which caused his name to resound through all
Europe, and which finally brought his neck beneath the slide of the
guillotine.
The court, under Louis XVI., in consequence of its
arbitrary measures, about the year 1789, was brought Democracy of the
into collision with the ancient Parliament, which Duke of Orleans.
remonstrated, and even refused to register the royal edicts. The Duke of
Orleans headed the party opposed to the court. At his magnificent mansion,
the Palais Royal, nearly opposite the Tuileries, the leading men in the
Opposition, Rochefoucault, Lafayette, and Mirabeau, were accustomed to
meet, concerting measures to thwart the crown, and to compel the
convocation of the States-General. In that way alone could the people hope
to resist the encroachments of the crown, and to claim any recognition of
popular rights. The people, accustomed to the almost idolatrous homage of
rank and power, were overjoyed in having, as the leading advocate of their
claims, a prince of the blood. The court was greatly exasperated. It was
determined that the high-born leader of the revolutionary party should feel
the heaviest weight of the royal displeasure. This severity, however, did but
augment the popularity of the duke among the people.
Louis XVI., through his advisers, ordered the Parliament to register a loan,
thus compelling the people to furnish the money it despotically demanded.
The Opposition in vain urged that the States-General should be convened,

as alone competent to impose taxes. The royal measure was carried,
notwithstanding the Opposition. As the keeper of the seals, amidst the most
profound emotion of the Parliament, read the decree, the Duke of Orleans
rose, and, with much agitation of voice and manner, inquired:
"Is this assemblage a lit de justice, or a free consultation?"
"It is a royal sitting," the king answered, somewhat sternly.
"Then," replied the duke, "I beg that your majesty will permit me to deposit
at your feet, and in the bosom of the court, the declaration, that I regard the
registration as illegal, and that it will be necessary, for the exculpation of
those persons who are held to have deliberated upon it, to add that it is by
express command of the king."
This bold act announced to all France that the Duke of
Orleans was ready to place himself at the head of the Wealth of the Duke
opposition to the court, and that he was endowed with of Orleans.
the courage and energy which would be found essential to maintain that
post. The wealth of the Duke of Orleans was so great that a former loan of
twenty-five million dollars he had taken up himself. Immediately upon the
withdrawal of the king from the Parliament, the Duke of Orleans presented
and carried a resolve declaring the action which had taken place as illegal.
The king, who was quite under the influence of the
stronger mind of his wife, Maria Antoinette, was deeply Banishment of the
offended. The duke was banished from Paris to his rural duke.
chateau of Villers Cotterets, and his leading friends in the Opposition were
exiled to the isles of Hières. The indignation of Parliament was roused, and
very vigorous resolutions of remonstrance were adopted, and presented to
the king. In these resolves it was written:
"The first prince of the royal family is exiled. It is asked in vain, What
crime has he committed? If the Duke of Orleans is culpable, we are all so. It
was worthy of the first prince of your blood to represent to your majesty
that you were changing the sitting into a lit de justice. If exile be the reward
for fidelity in princes, we may ask ourselves, with terror and with grief,
What protection is there for law and liberty?"

In allusion to the universal impression that the king was urged to these
severe measures by the influence of Maria Antoinette, the Parliament
added, "Such measures, sire, dwell not in your own heart. Such examples
do not originate from your majesty. They flow from another source. Your
Parliament supplicates your majesty to reject those merciless counsels, and
to listen to the dictates of your own heart."
The plea was unavailing. The agitation throughout France was rapidly
increasing—the people everywhere struggling against the encroachments of
the crown. From all parts of the kingdom the cry arose for the assembling of
the States-General. The Duke of Orleans, maddened by his banishment, and
exasperated to the highest degree against Maria Antoinette, whom he
considered as the author of his exile, was intensely engaged in plotting
measures of revenge. During his banishment he won the affections of the
peasantry by the kindly interest he seemed to take in their welfare. He
chatted freely with the farmers and the day-laborers—entered their cottages
and conversed with their families on the most friendly terms—presented
dowries to young brides, and stood sponsor for infants.
This course rapidly increased the popularity of the duke
among the people, and the Parliament was unceasing in Popularity of the
its solicitations for his recall. The court became Duke of Orleans.
embarrassed, and at length gladly availed itself of the opportunity of
releasing him, in response to a petition from the Duchess of Orleans.
The current of the revolution was now beginning to flow with resistless
flood. The hostility between the court and the people was hourly increasing.
Famine added its horrors to the general tumult and agitation. A winter of
unparalleled severity—the winter of 1789—terribly increased the general
suffering. The Duke of Orleans was profuse in his liberality, opening a
public kitchen, and supplying the wants of famishing thousands. The duke,
having thus embarked, without reserve, in the cause of the people, added to
his own popularity and to the exasperation of the court, by publicly
renouncing all his feudal rights, and permitting the public to hunt and shoot
at pleasure over his vast domains. His popularity now became immense.
The journals were filled with his praises. Whenever he appeared in public,
multitudes followed him with their acclaim.

On the 4th of May, 1789, the States-General, or National
Assembly, met. The duke, followed by about forty Assembling of the
others of the nobility, renounced all his aristocratic States-General.
privileges, and took his place as an equal in the ranks of the tiers état, or
third estate, as the common people were called. The clergy, the nobility, and
the people then constituted the three estates of the realm.
The French Revolution was now advancing with rapid strides, accompanied
by anarchy, violence, and bloodshed. The court party was increasingly
exasperated against the popular duke, and many stories were fabricated
against him to undermine his influence. The situation of the king and royal
family became daily more irksome and perilous. He endeavored to escape,
to join the armies of Austria and Prussia, which were marching to his relief.
He was arrested at Varennes, brought back to Paris, and held as a prisoner in
the Tuileries. The question was now discussed of deposing the king and
establishing a regency under the Duke of Orleans.
The first National Assembly, called the Constituent,
which was convened to draw up a constitution for Commotion in
France, having completed its work, was dissolved; and Paris.
another assembly, denominated the Legislative, was chosen to enact laws
under that constitution. The allied armies of foreign dynasties were on the
march to rob the French people of their constitution, and to impose upon
them the absolute despotism of the old régime. Fearful riots ensued in Paris.
The palace of the Tuileries was stormed. The king, with his family, fled to
the Legislative Assembly for protection, and was imprisoned in the Temple.
On the 20th of January, 1793, he died upon the scaffold.
The National Convention, which speedily succeeded the
Legislative Assembly, brought the accusation of treason Flight of the nobles.
Petition of the Duke
against the king—tried, condemned, and executed him. of Orleans.
The Duke of Orleans, a member of this Convention,
voted for the death of the king. The abolition of monarchy and the
establishment of a republic immediately followed. The question was with
much interest discussed, whether the republic should be federal, like that of
the United States, or integral, like the ancient republics of Greece and
Rome. The Duke of Orleans advocated the concentration of power and the
indivisibility of France. Fanaticism usurped the place of reason; the

guillotine was busy; suspicions filled the air; no life was safe. The Duke of
Orleans was alarmed. He sent his daughter, under the care of Madame de
Genlis, to England. The nobles were flying in all directions. Severe laws
were passed against the emigrants. The duke, who had assumed the
surname of Egalité, or Equality, excited suspicion by placing his daughter
among the emigrants. It was said that he had no confidence in the people or
in the new order of things. To lull these suspicions, the duke sent a petition
to the Convention on the 21st of November, 1792, containing the following
statement:

EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI.
"Citizens,—You have passed a law against those cowards who have fled
their country in the moment of danger. The circumstance I have to lay
before you is peculiar. My daughter, fifteen years of age, passed over to
England in the month of October, 1791, with her governess and two
companions of her studies. Her governess, Madame de Genlis, has early
initiated them in liberal views and republican virtues. The English language
forms a part of the education which she has given to my daughter. One of

the motives of this journey has been to acquire the pronunciation of that
tongue. Besides that, the chalybeate waters of England were recommended
as restoratives of my daughter's health. It is impossible, under these
circumstances, to regard the journey of my daughter as emigration. I feel
assured that the law is not applicable in this case. But the slightest doubt is
sufficient to distress a father. I beg, therefore, fellow-citizens, that you will
relieve me from this uneasiness."
But by this time the Convention began to look upon the
Duke of Orleans with suspicion. Rumors were in Domestic discord.
circulation that many of the people, tired of republicanism—which was
crowding the prisons, and causing blood to gush in an incessant flow—
wished to reinstate the monarchy, and to place the Duke of Orleans upon
the throne. The Duchess of Orleans, the child of one of the highest nobles,
was not in sympathy with her husband in his democratic views. His
boundless profligacy had also alienated her affections, so that there was no
domestic happiness to be found in the gorgeous saloons of the Palais Royal.
Robespierre wished to banish the Duke of Orleans from France, as a
dangerous man, around whom the not yet extinct spirit of royalty might
rally. He moved in the Convention, "That all the relatives of Bourbon Capet
should be obliged, within eight days, to quit the territory of France and the
countries then occupied by the Republican armies."
The motion was, for the time, frustrated by the following expostulation by
M. Lamarque:
"Would it not be the extreme of injustice to exile all of the Capets, without
distinction? I have never spoken but twice to Egalité. I am, therefore, not
open to the suspicion of partiality, but I have closely observed his conduct
in the Revolution. I have seen him deliver himself up to it entirely, a willing
victim for its promotion, not shrinking from the greatest sacrifices; and I
can truly assert that but for Egalité we never should have had the States-
General—we should never have been free."
Thus public sentiment fluctuated. An event soon
occurred which brought matters to a crisis. General Flight of General
Dumouriez.
Dumouriez, a former minister of Louis XVI., was in
command of the army on the northern frontier. Disgusted with the violence

of the Convention, which was silencing all opposition with the slide of the
guillotine, and apprehensive of personal danger, from the consciousness that
he was suspected of not being very friendly to the Government, he resolved
to abandon the country which he thought doomed to destruction, and to
seek safety in flight. Louis Philippe, the eldest son of the Duke of Orleans,
then a lad of about 16, was on his staff. They fled together. This aroused
popular indignation in Paris to the highest pitch. This young prince, Louis
Philippe, then entitled the Duke of Chartres, and who, as subsequently King
of the French, is the subject of this memoir, had written in a letter to his
father, which was intercepted, these words: "I see the Convention utterly
destroying France." It was believed that Dumouriez had entered into a plot
for placing the Duke of Orleans on the throne, and that the duke was
cognizant of the plan.
A decree was immediately passed ordering the arrest of
every Bourbon in France. The duke was arrested and Arrest of the Duke
of Orleans.
conveyed to Marseilles, with several members of his
family. Here he was held in durance for some time, and was then brought to
Paris to be tried for treason. Though there was no evidence whatever
against him, he was declared guilty of being "an accomplice in a conspiracy
against the unity and indivisibility of the Republic," and was condemned to
death.
The duke, as he heard the sentence, replied: "Since you were predetermined
to put me to death, you ought at least to have sought for more plausible
pretexts to attain that end; for you will never persuade the world that you
deem me guilty of what you now declare me to be convicted. However,
since my lot is decided, I demand that you will not let me languish here
until to-morrow, but order that I be led to execution instantly." His request
was not granted; but he was conducted back to the cells of the Conciergerie,
to be executed the next day. The next morning he was placed in the death-
cart at the Conciergerie, with four others of the condemned, to be conveyed
to the guillotine, which stood in the Place de la Concorde. He was
elaborately dressed in a green frock-coat, white waistcoat, doe-skin
breeches, and with boots carefully polished. His hair was dressed and
powdered with care. As the cart passed slowly along in front of his princely
abode, the Palais Royal, and through immense crowds, lining the streets,

who formerly had been fed by his liberality, and who now clamored for his
death, he looked around upon them with apparently perfect indifference.
At the guillotine the executioner took off his coat, and
was about to draw off his boots, when he said, calmly, Execution of
Egalité.
"It is only loss of time; you will remove them more
easily from my lifeless limbs." He examined the keen edge of the knife, and
was bound to the plank. The slide fell, and his head dropped into the basket.
Thus perished Louis Philippe Egalité in the 46th year of his age. It was the
6th of November, 1793, ten months after Louis XVI. had perished upon the
same scaffold. The immoralities of the Duke of Orleans were such that it
has often been said of him, "Nothing became his life so much as his manner
of leaving it." Louis Philippe Egalité, inheriting from his ancestors vast
opulence, had become, by his marriage with the daughter of the immensely
wealthy Duke of Penthièvre, the possessor of almost royal domains. His
wife, the duchess, though aristocratic in all her prepossessions, and
sympathizing not at all with her husband in his democratic views, was a
woman of unblemished character, of amiable disposition, and of devoted
piety.
Having thus given a brief account of the origin of the Orleans family, we
must, at the expense of a little repetition, turn back to the birth of Louis
Philippe, the oldest son of the Duke of Orleans, and the subject of this
memoir.
Louis Philippe was born in the Palais Royal, in Paris, on
the 6th of October, 1773. In his early years, he, with the Birth of Louis
other children of the ducal family, was placed under the Philippe.
care and tuition of the celebrated Madame de Genlis. Until the death of his
father, he bore the title of the Duke of Chartres.
"The Duke of Chartres," writes Lamartine, "had no youth. Education
suppressed this age in the pupils of Madame de Genlis. Reflection, study,
premeditation of every thought and act, replaced nature by study, and
instinct by will. At seventeen years of age, the young prince had the
maturity of advanced years."
Madame de Genlis was unwearied in her endeavors to
confer upon her illustrious pupil the highest intellectual His daily journal.

and religious education. The most distinguished professors were appointed
to instruct in those branches with which she was not familiar. His conduct
was recorded in a minute daily journal, from which every night questions
were read subjecting him to the most searching self-examination. The
questions were as follows:
1. Have I this day fulfilled all my duties towards God, my Creator, and
prayed to Him with fervor and affection?
2. Have I listened with respect and attention to the instructions which have
been given me to-day, with regard to my Christian duties, and in reading
works of piety?
3. Have I fulfilled all my duties this day towards those I ought to love most
in the world—my father and my mother?
4. Have I behaved with mildness and kindness towards my sister and my
brothers?
5. Have I been docile, grateful, and attentive to my teachers?
6. Have I been perfectly sincere to-day, disobliging no one, and speaking
evil of no one?
7. Have I been as discreet, prudent, charitable, modest, and courageous as
may be expected at my age?
8. Have I shown no proof of that weakness or effeminacy which is so
contemptible in a man?
9. Have I done all the good I could?
10. Have I shown all the marks of attention I ought to the persons, present
or absent, to whom I owe kindness, respect, and affection?
These questions were read to him every night from his journal. To each one
he returned a reply in writing. He then kneeled, and in prayer implored the
forgiveness of his sins, and Divine guidance for the future. Under such
training, notwithstanding the enjoyment of almost boundless wealth, the
influence of a dissolute father, and the measureless corruptions of the times,

Louis Philippe developed a character embellished by the loftiest principles
and the purest integrity.
The Orleans children, consisting of three sons and a
daughter, were taught in their earliest years to speak Educational
French, English, German, and Italian, so that each of influences.
Mental and physical
these languages became, as it were, vernacular. At St. training.
Leu, where they resided most of the time, a garden was
laid out, which they dug and cultivated with their own hands. A German
gardener superintended their work, while a German valet accompanied
them in their morning walks. A physician, who was a distinguished chemist,
instructed them in botany, pointing out the medicinal virtues of the various
plants. They were taught to manufacture numerous articles of domestic
utility, and the boys became skillful in turning, weaving, basket-making,
and other mechanical employments. The Duke of Chartres became a very
skillful cabinet-maker, and, aided by his brother, the Duke of Montpensier,
manufactured a bureau for a poor woman at St. Leu which was equal to any
which could be found in the market. They were also accustomed to fatigue
and hardship, that they might be prepared for any of the vicissitudes of
future life. Madame de Genlis, in reference to this training of her pupil, and
his subsequent trials and privations, writes:
"How often, since his misfortunes, have I applauded
myself for the education I have given him; for having Testimony of
taught him the principal modern languages; for having Madame de Genlis.
accustomed him to wait on himself; to despise all kinds of effeminacy; to
sleep habitually on a wooden bed, with no covering but a mat; to expose
himself to heat, cold, and rain; to accustom himself to fatigue by daily and
violent exercise, by walking ten or fifteen miles with leaden soles to his
shoes; and, finally, for having given him the taste and habit of travelling. He
had lost all that he inherited from birth and fortune; and nothing remained
but what he had received from nature and me."
In one of her earlier letters, she wrote: "The Duke of Chartres has greatly
improved in disposition during the past year. He was born with good
inclinations, and has now become intelligent and virtuous. Possessing none
of the frivolities of the age, he disdains the puerilities which occupy the
thoughts of so many young men of rank—such as fashions, dress, trinkets,

follies of all kinds, and a desire for novelties. He has no passion for money,
is disinterested, despises glare, and is, consequently, truly noble. Finally, he
has an excellent heart, which is common to his brothers and sister, and
which, joined to reflection, is capable of producing all other good qualities."

STORMING THE BASTILE.
During the boyhood of Louis Philippe, revolutionary
principles were rapidly spreading over France; and, as Demolition of the
he approached manhood, they had reached their Bastile.
maturity. The example of his father, and the teachings of Madame de
Genlis, inclined him strongly in the direction of popular rights, though his
mother did not at all sympathize with these revolutionary principles. When
the exasperated people rose and demolished the Bastile—the symbol and

the instrument of as great despotic power as ever existed upon earth—
Madame de Genlis took her pupils into Paris to witness the sublime drama.
In describing the scene, she writes eloquently:
"This redoubtable fortress was covered with men, women, and children,
working with unequalled ardor, even on the most lofty parts of the building
and on its turrets. The astonishing number of these voluntary laborers, their
activity, their enthusiasm, their delight at seeing the fall of that terrible
monument of tyranny—these avenging hands, which seemed consecrated
by Providence, and which annihilated with such rapidity the work of many
centuries—all this spoke at once to the imagination and the heart."
When the Duke of Chartres was informed that the
Assembly had annulled all the rights of primogeniture— The Duke of
Chartres joins the
thus depriving him, as the first-born, of his exclusive Jacobin Club.
right to the title and the estate—he threw his arms
around his brother, the Duke of Montpensier, and said, "Now, indeed, we
are brothers in every respect." The unconcealed liberal opinions of the
young prince increased the exasperation of the court against the whole
Orleans family. And when, guided by his radical father, and in opposition to
the advice of Madame de Genlis, the young duke became a member of the
Jacobin Club—then numbering, as it was estimated, four hundred thousand
in France—the indignation of the court reached its highest pitch.
On the 20th of November, 1785, the young Duke of Chartres, then in his
thirteenth year, became colonel of the nineteenth regiment of dragoons. He
proceeded, not long after, to Vendôme, and devoted himself, with all the
enthusiasm of youth, to the duties of his profession. His democratic
principles led him, in opposition to the example of most of his brother-
officers, to associate quite familiarly with the common soldiers.
"Far from imitating the example of these young
noblemen, who disdained to mix or converse with the His affability.
Noble sentiment.
soldiers, the duke was constantly in the midst of them,
and the advice and reprimands which they received from his lips had double
the force of usual orders. On every occasion he proved himself the soldier's
friend. He heard their complaints with kindness, and the generous, noble
familiarity with which he replied to their demands in a little time won for

him all their hearts. Strengthened by those affections, which he so well
knew how to merit, he was enabled, without any exertion, to establish and
preserve the strictest discipline. His men obeyed him with pleasure, because
his orders were always given with urbanity.
"His exemplary conduct had the happiest influence over the whole garrison
of Vendôme. The soldiers now forgot his youth; the oldest officers found in
him such intelligence and punctuality as sometimes left their experience in
arrear. He frequently reached the stables, in the morning, before the
lieutenant, whose duty it was to call there; and he exhibited equal energy in
every other subject. His lieutenant-colonel, imagining that this too frequent
appearance among the men would lessen that respect for the dignity of
colonel which he considered essential to the maintenance of discipline,
ventured to remonstrate with him upon his conduct. He replied:
"'I do not think that I shall forfeit the respect of my men, or be less entitled
to their regard, by giving them an example of punctuality, and by being the
first to submit myself to the demands of discipline.'"[B]

Chapter II.

The Exile.
1791-1794

I n the month of August, 1791, the Duke of Chartres left
Vendôme with his regiment, and went to Valenciennes, Plans for the
invasion of France.
where he spent the winter. He had been appointed
commandant of that place, and, young as he was, discharged the important
duties of the position with ability and firmness, which secured for him a
very high reputation. The emigrant nobles had assembled on the French
frontier, in the electorate of Trèves, where they were organizing their forces
for the invasion of France. It was understood that Leopold II., then Emperor
of Germany, was co-operating with them, and was forwarding large bodies
of troops to many points along the German banks of the Rhine for a crusade
into France.
The French government demanded of the emperor an explanation of his
intentions. He replied: "We do not know of any armaments in the Austrian
states which can be magnified into preparations for war." Though Louis
XVI. was in cordial sympathy with the emigrants, and, by his secret agents,
was urging the Emperor of Austria to lend him troops to aid in crushing the
revolution in France, still he was compelled not only to dissemble, but on
the 20th of April, 1792, publicly to declare war against the Emperor of
Austria, who was brother of his queen, Maria Antoinette.
The Duke of Orleans, Egalité, begged permission of the
king to join the armies of revolutionized France in their The campaign of
1792.
march against Austria, and to take with him his two
oldest sons, the Duke of Chartres (Louis Philippe), and the Duke of
Montpensier. In the campaign of 1792, which ensued, both of these young
men acquired distinction and promotion. General Biron, in command, wrote
to the minister of war:
"Messieurs Chartres and Montpensier have accompanied me as volunteers,
and, being exposed for the first time to a brisk fire from the enemy, behaved

with the utmost heroism and intrepidity."
The Duke of Chartres, in command of a brigade of dragoons, was soon after
transferred to a corps at Metz, under General Kellerman, who subsequently
obtained such renown in the wars of the Empire.
When the Duke of Chartres first appeared at head-quarters, General
Kellerman, not knowing who he was, and surprised by his youthful
appearance, exclaimed:
"Ah, monsieur! I never before have had the pleasure of seeing so young a
general officer. How have you contrived to be made a general so soon?"
The duke replied: "By being a son of him who made a colonel of you."
They clasped hands cordially, and a warm friendship commenced between
them.
In July, 1792, the united armies of Prussia and Austria
commenced their march from the German fortresses The invasion of
upon the Rhine into France. The emigrant nobles, and all France.
their partisans, were received into the ranks of these invaders. Their
combined strength amounted to 160,000 men. The Duke of Brunswick, in
command of the united armies, issued from Coblentz, on the 15th of July,
1792, his famous manifesto, in which he declared, "That he would punish
as rebels every Frenchman who should oppose the allied army; and that,
should any attack be made upon the royal family in the Tuileries, the whole
city should be given up to destruction, and the rebels to instant death."
In view of these terrible menaces, the Legislative Assembly issued a
proclamation, in which it was said:
"A numerous army has moved upon our frontiers. All
those who are enemies to liberty have armed themselves Proclamation of the
against our constitution. Citizens! the country is in Assembly.
danger! Let all those who have had the happiness of taking up arms in the
cause of liberty remember that they are Frenchmen, and free; that their
fellow-citizens enjoy in their homes security of persons and property; that
the magistrates are vigilant; that every thing depends on calm resolution;
that they should take care to acknowledge the majesty of law, and the
country will still be safe."

FLIGHT AND IMPRISONMENT OF LAFAYETTE.
The plan of the campaign, adopted by the Duke of
Brunswick, was to press rapidly forward, with his ImprisonmentLafayette.
of

combined army, from the banks of the Rhine to Paris,
cut off its supplies, and by famine to compel it to surrender. He would then
destroy the liberal constitution, punish and disperse the friends of popular
rights, and restore the king to the absolutism of the old régime. To oppose
this formidable army of invasion, France had one corps of 14,000 men near
Metz, and another of 33,000 at Sedan, under General Dumouriez. General
Lafayette had been in command of the latter force; but, by his opposition to
some of the radical measures of the Convention, had excited the hostility of
the Paris mob and the Jacobin clubs. They had burned him in effigy at the
Palais Royal, accused him of treason before the Assembly, and set a price
upon his head. Argument was of no avail against the fury of the populace—
in flight only was his safety. While thus pursued by the Jacobins of Paris as
an aristocrat, he was arrested by a patrol of the Austrian army as a
democrat. With the greatest secrecy, his captors hurried him to Olmutz,
where he was thrown into close confinement, and subjected to the most
cruel privations. It was two years before his friends could discover the place

of his captivity. His wife and daughters then, after much difficulty and
delay, succeeded in obtaining permission to share the glooms of his
dungeon. It was not until after an imprisonment of five years that he was set
at liberty, Napoleon commanding his release in tones which Austria did not
dare to disregard.
The proclamation by the Assembly that the country was
in danger, caused volunteers in large numbers to set out Measures of
defense.
from every portion of France. From Paris alone, in three
days, an army of 32,000 men, completely equipped, were on the advance to
the scene of conflict. General Dumouriez, in command at Sedan, drew up
his lines of defense before the defiles of Argoun, where he thought he could
make the most effectual stand against the invading host. The Duke of
Brunswick fell fiercely upon his left wing, and, breaking through, poured
his troops like a flood into the plains of Champagne. For a time a terrific
panic spread through the French army, and it became needful for Generals
Dumouriez and Kellerman to unite their forces. In the mean time, the
triumphant Prussians, defiling rapidly by Grandpré and Croix-aux-Bois,
were approaching Chalons.
The French troops concentrated at Valmy. There they drew up in line of
battle, to arrest the advance of their foes. The second line of the French
army was commanded by the Duke of Chartes. The battle which ensued
was one of the most memorable and hard-fought in French history. In the
early morning a dense mist covered the field of conflict. At eleven o'clock
the fog dispersed, and the sun came out brightly, revealing the Prussian
columns advancing in beautiful order, with a glittering display of
caparisoned horses and polished weapons, deploying with as much
precision as if on a field of parade. The eye took in at a glance 100,000 men
preparing for the death-struggle. It was, indeed, an imposing spectacle, for
such hosts had then been rarely collected on any field of blood.
Neither party seemed disposed to come into close
contact with the other, but each brought forward its Battle of Valmy.
batteries, and a terrific cannonade commenced, which
continued until the close of the day. It was estimated that forty thousand
balls were hurled by the opposing armies into each other's ranks. Each
army, however, maintained its position. Yet it was considered a French

victory, for the Prussians failed in their attempt to break through the lines of
the French, and the French succeeded in arresting the march of the
Prussians. Indeed, it was admitted by the Prussians that their plan was
hopelessly thwarted. The Duke of Brunswick proposed an armistice to the
French officers, and this was speedily followed by the evacuation of the
French territory by the whole body of Prussian troops. Thus, for the time,
the Germanic project of invasion was abandoned.
The Duke of Chartres again, upon this occasion,
distinguished himself by bravery and military skill. Gallantry of the
Duke of Chartres.
General Kellerman, in his official report of the battle,
said: "I shall only particularize, among those who have shown distinguished
courage, M. Chartres and his aid-de-camp, M. Montpensier, whose extreme
youth renders his presence of mind, during one of the most tremendous
cannonades ever heard, so very remarkable."
It will be observed that General Kellerman speaks of the young dukes as
simply M. Chartres and M. Montpensier. At that time all honorary titles
were abolished in France, and the highest nobles were addressed, as were
the humblest peasants, by the only title of Citizen. Still, the lower classes
regarded with great jealousy those higher orders to whom they had been
accustomed to pay the homage which slaves render their masters. The
laborers, the humble artisans, the toil-worn peasants, could not appear with
any thing like equality in the presence of the high-born men and courtly
dames who, through their ancestry of many generations, had been
accustomed to wealth and rank and power. Thus, to the lower orders, the
dress of a gentleman, the polite bearing of the prince, the courtly manner of
the noble, excited suspicion, and created hostile feelings.
Even Egalité himself, though he had renounced all his
titles, all his feudal rights, and had assumed, as far as Embarrassment of
Egalité.
possible, the manners of a blunt, plain-spoken man, was
still, next to the king, in the enjoyment of the richest revenue in France. He
could by no possibility place himself upon a social equality with his boot-
black. He manifested no disposition to divide his vast possessions with the
mob in Paris, and to send his wife to work with the washer-women, and his
daughter to a factory, and to earn himself his daily bread by menial toil.
And the washer-women were asking, "Why should we toil at the tub, and

Citizeness Orleans ride in her carriage and dress in satins? We are as good
as she, and our blood is as red." And at the corners of the streets, the
uncombed mob were beginning to inquire, "Why should Citizen Orleans,
who, by adopting the title of Egalité, has confessed himself to be only our
equal, be in possession of magnificent palaces, and of thousands of acres of
the public domain, and of a revenue of millions of francs, while we dwell in
hovels, and eat the coarsest food, and, by the most menial toil, obtain a bare
subsistence? Citizen Orleans has given up his titles, as he ought to have
done; now let him give up his enormous estates, and divide them among us,
his brethren; and, if he is unwilling to do this, let us compel him to do so."
Louis Philippe, accustomed to profound reflection, and
trained in the school of these tremendous political Continued war
against France.
agitations, clearly foresaw all these menaces. He was
well aware that it was no longer safe for him to be in Paris, and that the
perils of the battle-field were among the least he had to encounter. Though
the Prussian troops had withdrawn from the alliance against France, the
Austrians, encouraged by the intrigues and the gold of the British cabinet,
still continued the conflict. The Austrian court had an additional motive for
perseverance, in the war against revolutionary France, in the anxiety it felt
for the safety of the Austrian princess, Maria Antoinette.
On the 5th of November, 1792, the French army, under General Dumouriez,
found itself intrenched upon the heights of Jemappes. Directly before it was
the camp of the Austrians, containing a veteran force of twenty-two
thousand men, commanded by General Clarfait.
The renowned battle of Jemappes ensued, which
commenced, after a cannonade of three hours, by an The Battle of
Jemappes.
attack upon the whole of the Austrian lines by the entire
French army. Again the young Duke of Chartres, who commanded the
centre, greatly distinguished himself by his coolness, bravery, and skill. The
carnage was serious on both sides, and for some hours the result was
doubtful. At length victory declared in favor of the French. The Austrians,
driven from all their positions, fled, leaving the battle-field covered with
their dead, and abandoning nearly all their cannon to the victors.

The French vigorously pursued the routed Austrians until they again
overtook them, and drove them out of the kingdom. On the 8th day after the
victory of Jemappes, Dumouriez advanced the French standard to Brussels.
As we have mentioned, the sister of the Duke of Chartres, the Princess
Eugene Louise Adelaide, with her governess, Madame de Genlis, had been
included in the proscriptive laws against emigration. The Duke of Chartres
visited them in Switzerland, where they had taken refuge, and conducted
them to Tornay.
While there, a new decree was issued by the Assembly,
declaring that every member of the Bourbon family then Peril of the Orleans
in France, with the exception of the royal household family.
itself, which was held in imprisonment in the Temple awaiting trial under
the charge of treason, should leave France, and all the territory occupied by
the newly-established Republic, within eight days. The position of the
Orleans branch of the Bourbon family now became every hour increasingly
perilous. The nation was demanding the life of the king, and the banishment
of all who bore his name. St. Just, in urging in the Assembly this decree of
banishment, said: "As to the king, we shall keep him; and you know for
what?"
The Duke of Chartres, who very fully comprehended the peril in which his
father's family was involved, urged him to avail himself of the decree of
banishment, which opened an honorable avenue of escape for him, and all
his family, from France.
"You will assuredly," said he to his father, "find yourself in an appalling
situation. Louis XVI. is about to be accused before an assembly of which
you are a member. You must sit before the king as his judge. Reject the
ungracious duty; withdraw, with your family, to America, and seek a calm
retreat, far from the enemies of France, and there await the return of happier
days."
But the Duke of Orleans did not deem it consistent with his honor to desert
his post in the hour of danger. Yet the arguments urged by his son were so
strong that he desired him to consult an influential member of the Assembly
upon the subject. The deputy replied:

"I am incompetent to give your father any advice. Our positions are
dissimilar. I myself seek redress for personal injuries. Your father, the Duke
of Orleans, ought to obey the dictates of his conscience as a prince, and the
dictates of duty as a citizen."
This undecided answer led the Duke of Orleans to the
decision that, in the prominent position which he Decision of the
Duke of Orleans.
occupied as a citizen of rank and wealth, he could not
with honor abandon his country in her hour of peril. The Duke of Chartres
desisted from any further solicitation, and, oppressed with much anxiety,
returned to the army.
The badge of the Bourbons was a white banner. The
insurgents, if we may so call the opponents, of all Origin of the Tri-
color.
varieties of opinions, who assailed the ancient
despotism, at the siege of the Bastile, wore red cockades. But very many
were in favor of monarchy who were also in favor of constitutional liberty.
Blue had been, in ancient times, the royal color, and they adopted that.
Others, who were in favor of the Bourbons, and advocated reform only, not
revolution, adopted white, the livery of the Bourbons. Thus arose the
celebrated tri-color flag, which became the emblem of all in France who
adopted the principles of political liberalism, whether monarchists or
republicans. The white banner of the Bourbons and the tri-color of the
revolutionists thus became arrayed against each other.
It was well known that there was a strong party in favor of placing the Duke
of Orleans upon the throne. The king was awaiting his trial in the Temple.
The monarchy was virtually overthrown, and a republic was established.
The Republicans were in great fear of a reaction, which might re-establish
the throne in favor of the Orleans family. It was, therefore, proposed in the
Assembly that the Duke of Orleans and his sons should be banished from
France. But it could not be denied that the Duke of Orleans had been one of
the most prominent leaders in the revolution. He had given all his influence,
and consecrated his immense wealth, to the cause. He had made great
sacrifices, and had alienated himself entirely from the royal family, and
from the nobility generally, by his bold advocacy of democratic principles.
Under these circumstances, it seemed peculiarly ungrateful to proscribe and

persecute him, merely because the blood of the Bourbons flowed in his
veins, and because he was born near the throne.
After a violent discussion in the Assembly, the decree of
banishment was passed. But the friends of the duke The Decree of
rallied, and succeeded, after a struggle of two days, in Banishment.
obtaining a reversal of the decree. It was known that the Duke of Chartres
had urged his father to yield to the decree, and to retire from France. This
increased the suspicion that the Duke of Chartres was not friendly to the
new state of things in republican, anarchic, France.
"It can not be denied," says a French historian, "that upon this occasion the
young prince evinced that high sagacity which, by foreseeing events,
succeeds in dispersing their dangers. He looked upon it that the revocation
of the decree of banishment against his family was a great misfortune;
because the name of Orleans having been once pronounced suspected and
dangerous, could never again be useful to their country, and would be
infallibly persecuted. 'If we can no longer be useful,' said he, 'and if we only
give occasion of offense, can we hesitate in expatriating ourselves?'"
But, as we have said, the duke decided to remain at his
post; and his son, returning to the army, anxiously Battle of Nerwinde.
awaited events. The Austrians speedily filled up their
depleted ranks with reinforcements, and on the 18th of March, 1793, were
again in battle array near the village of Nerwinde. Another terrible battle
ensued, in which the Duke of Orleans again won many laurels; but victory
decided against the French. The army of Dumouriez was utterly routed. The
Duke of Chartres had a horse shot from under him; but he spent the whole
night upon the field, struggling to rally the fugitives. It was attributed to his
heroism that the army did not, on that occasion, experience an irreparable
disaster.
General Dumouriez now found himself in the most painful and perilous
position. It was not safe for any leader of the Republican armies to allow
himself to be defeated. The loss of a battle was considered equivalent to
treason. A committee was sent by the Assembly to spy out his conduct. The
Moniteur of the 27th of March, 1793, contains the following report:

"We arrived at Tournay on Tuesday, the 26th. Citizen
Proly—who was previously known to General Charges against
Dumouriez.
Dumouriez—waited upon him. He found him at the
house of Madame Sillery, in company with that lady, the Misses Egalité,
and Pamela. He was attended, also, by Generals Valence and Chartres.
"Among other unbecoming observations, which he did not hesitate to make,
General Dumouriez said that the Convention was the cause of all the
misfortunes of France; that it was composed of 745 tyrants, all regicides;
that he was strong enough to bring them to a sense of propriety; and that, if
they were to call him Cæsar, Cromwell, or Monk, he was still resolved to
save his country."
The publication of this report rendered it certain to Dumouriez and his
friends that he would immediately be arrested and conveyed to Paris, under
circumstances which would render condemnation and execution inevitable.
He had not an hour to lose. He was supping with the Duke of Chartres,
anxiously conversing upon the peril in which they both were involved,
when a courier arrived, summoning him immediately to repair to Paris to
explain his conduct to the Convention. The Duke of Chartres said sadly to
his general: "This order is your death-warrant." As he said this, the general
was opening another document, and replied: "Now it is your turn, my young
friend; this letter incloses a similar invitation for you."
They both mounted their horses, and bidding adieu to
unhappy France, set out, with a small retinue, for the The Flight.
frontier. A detachment of dragoons was sent in pursuit of
them. By the extraordinary sagacity and self-possession of Baudoin, the
faithful servant of the prince, they effected their escape. It is altogether
probable that Dumouriez was intending, by the aid of the army, to
overthrow the Convention, and re-establish the throne in favor of the Duke
of Chartres. An anonymous French writer, commenting upon these events,
says:
"We do not hesitate to place among the number of the
plans of Dumouriez a project which did him honor—that Supposed Plan of
Dumouriez.
of abolishing the republican system and erecting a
constitutional monarchy in favor of the Duke of Chartres. Many persons

have imagined that the Duke of Chartres was aware of this design. It is
certain that in the army, as well as among the moderates of the interior, the
prince would have found a crowd of adherents. But he was too
conscientious to usurp a crown which had just fallen in blood—too good a
son to authorize proceedings which would have endangered the life of his
father; in short, too enlightened, too prudent, notwithstanding his extreme
youth, to be instrumental in any ambitious or ill-conceived scheme
emanating from such a man as Dumouriez. However, whether the Duke of
Chartres was conscious or not of the designs of General Dumouriez, a stern
necessity rendered a union of their fortunes indispensable for a time."
The fugitives repaired first to Mons, the head-quarters of the Austrians, to
obtain their passports. Prince Charles urged the duke to enter the service of
the Empire, and to co-operate with foreign armies and the emigrants in
restoring monarchy to France. The duke emphatically declined. Indeed,
such an act would probably have brought his father's head, and the head of
every member of the family, within reach of the Convention, beneath the
slide of the guillotine. Nothing now remained for the prince but exile and
poverty.
In the month of April, 1793, the duke, assuming the
name of Mr. Corby, and the appearance of an English Wanderings on the
traveller, accompanied only by a servant and his aid-de- Rhine.
camp, Cæsar Ducrest, commenced travelling in Germany. While the
Republicans assailed him from suspicion of his secret hostility to
Republican principles, the emigrants thoroughly hated both him and his
father for the countenance which they had given to the Revolution. The
region was full of emigrants who would gladly surrender him to his
enemies. It was necessary for him to practise the utmost caution, that he
might preserve his incognito. In the cities of Liege, Aix-la-Chapelle, and
Cologne, he did not dare to dine at the table d'hôte, lest he should be
recognized.
The duke had reached Frankfort, when he read the account in the journals
of the arrest of his father and brothers. Lafayette, laden with irons, was
pining in the dungeons of Olmutz. Such was the reward which these patriots
received for their devotion to the cause of popular liberty.

Departing from Frankfort, the duke proceeded to Basle.
From an eminence in the environs of the town the tri- Arrest of the
Orleans family.
color flag was visible, floating in the distance above the
battlements of the fortress of Huninguen. With deep emotion the duke
saluted the flag of liberty, for which he had suffered so much, and continued
his sad journey. At Basle he learned that his sister, accompanied by
Madame de Genlis, had taken refuge at Schaffhausen, in Switzerland. His
mother and two brothers, as well as his father, had been arrested, and were
imprisoned in France. Joining his sister and Madame de Genlis, the little
party of exiles proceeded, oppressed with anxiety and grief, to Zurich. Here
it became necessary for them to acquaint the magistrates with their real
names.
The emigrant royalists who had taken refuge there ostentatiously displayed
their detestation of the democratic prince. At the same time, the Helvetic
magistrates trembled lest they should incur the wrath of Revolutionary
France by affording a refuge to the illustrious exiles. The Moniteur, of the
12th of June, 1793, contained the following notice:
"The ci-devant Duke of Chartres and his suite are not in Italy, as had been
supposed, but reside in a solitary house on the margin of Lake Zug, in
Switzerland. They pass for an Irish family."
It was on the 14th of May that the sorrowful exiles took
up their residence upon the banks of this silent lake. In Life in Switzerland.
Zurich, where they were recognized, they had been exposed to many
insults. One evening, as they were walking out, an emigrant cavalier
purposely caught his spur in a portion of the dress of Mademoiselle
d'Orleans, rudely tearing it.
Soon they were again discovered by some emigrants who were passing
through Zug. A dispatch from Berne reproached the authorities for their
imprudence in allowing the noble wanderers an asylum. The magistrates
called upon the duke and respectfully, but with much embarrassment,
entreated him to depart from their coasts. It was now evident that the party
could no longer, with safety, reside together. The duke succeeded, through
some influential friends, in obtaining admission for his sister into the
convent of Sainte Claire, near Bremgarten.

"As for you," said M. de Montjoie to the Duke of Chartres, "there is no
alternative but to wander in the mountains, not sojourning long in any
place, but pursuing this life of sorrow until the circumstances of your
country shall assume a more favorable aspect. If fortune shall prove
propitious, your wanderings will be an Odyssey, the details of which will
one day be collected with avidity."
General Dumouriez, who was also wandering in obscurity and exile, at this
time wrote to General Montesquieu, who was a friend of the Duke of
Chartres, and a gentleman possessed of much influence and power in
Switzerland:
"Embrace for me our excellent young friend. What you
are doing to serve him is worthy of you. Let him derive Letter from General
Dumouriez.
instruction and strength from his adversity. This frenzy
will pass away, and then he will find his place. Induce him to make a
circumstantial diary of his travels. It will be curious to see the diary of a
Bourbon treating of other subjects than the chase, women, and the table. I
am convinced that this work, which he will one day produce, will serve as a
certificate for life, either when he shall have re-entered it, or to make him
return to it."
Darker and darker grew the path of the exiled prince.
His funds became very low. He was separated from all Hardships of travel.
his friends except his faithful servant, Baudoin, who
absolutely refused to leave him. He retained but one horse. His servant
chanced to be so sick that he could not walk. The duke left Basle on foot,
leading by the hand the horse upon which his humble but faithful
companion in exile was mounted.[C]
Passing through Neufchâtel, Zellen Blatt, and Kussnacht, he reached the
ruins of Halsburg. Here, in the midst of silence and solitude, the great-
grandson of the brother of Louis XIV. sought a refuge from his countrymen,
who were thirsting for his blood.

ST. GOTHARD.
During one of his adventurous excursions among the Alps, on foot,
accompanied only by his servant, he approached the hospitium of Saint
Gothard. It was on the 28th of August, 1793. Having rung the bell, a
Capuchin friar appeared at the casement and inquired, "What do you want?"
"I request," replied the duke, "some nourishment for my companion and
myself." "My good young men," said the friar, "we do not admit foot-
passengers here, particularly of your description." "But, reverend father,"
replied the duke, "we will pay whatever you demand." "No, no," added the
Capuchin, pointing to a shed where some muleteers were partaking of
Alpine cheese, "that little inn there is good enough for you."
At Gordona the duke and his servant met with a similar repulse. Covered
with the dust of travel, and with knapsacks on their backs, with night and
storm approaching, they found the door of a hostlery closed against them. It
was not until after much entreaty that the way-worn travellers were allowed
shelter, with a bed of straw, in an outhouse.
While engaged in these wanderings, the duke received a
letter from M. de Montesquieu, offering him the A college professor.
situation of professor at the college of Reichenau. This
was a chateau near the confluence of the upper and lower Rhine. He was
then but twenty years of age. Assuming the name of M. Chabaud, he

underwent a very rigid examination, without exciting the slightest suspicion
as to his real character. For eight months he discharged the duties of
teaching the French and English languages with marked success, and so
secured the respect of the inhabitants of Reichenau that they elected him
their deputy to the Assembly at Coire.
Here the tidings reached him of the sad fate of his father. Overwhelmed
with grief, and restless in view of the peril of other members of the family,
he resumed his wanderings. Proceeding to Bremgarten, the residence of his
influential friend M. de Montesquieu, he remained with him, as aid-de-
camp, until some time in the year 1794.
But it was impossible for a man so widely known to
remain long concealed in any place. There was still an Political divisions
in France.
energetic and increasingly powerful party in France
opposed to the disorders which the Republic had introduced, and anxious to
restore monarchical forms. The situation of the sister of the Duke of
Orleans, as Louis Philippe now became, on the death of his father, was
considered so unsafe in the convent of Bremgarten that she was removed to
Hungary.
One day, as the duke was sitting silently, lost in thought,
in a parlor adjoining the one occupied by his generous The wilds of
Scandinavia.
host, he overheard some conversation which led him to
fear that the hospitality which he was receiving might endanger the safety
of his friend. He immediately resolved to withdraw from Bremgarten and to
seek refuge in Hamburg. Here, finding his position very insecure, he
resolved to hide himself in the cheerless climate of Northern Europe.
Accustomed to the severest privations, he was enabled to recommence his
wanderings with the slender funds at his disposal. Assuming the character
of a Swiss traveller, he made arrangements to disappear from Southern
Europe, and seek refuge in the wilds of Scandinavia. He obtained passports
from the King of Denmark, which allowed him to take with him his
steadfast friend Count Montjoie, and his faithful servant Baudoin, who had
shared all the sufferings of his exile. A letter of credit upon a banker at
Copenhagen supplied his immediate pecuniary wants.

Chapter III.

Wanderings in the Old World
and the New.

1794-1798

T he peninsula of Scandinavia can be explored at a
very slight expense. The exiled prince, with his Louis Philippe in
Sweden.
companions, travelled in the most unostentatious
manner. He felt quite secure in his wanderings, as but few of the emigrants
had penetrated those distant regions. From Copenhagen he passed to
Elsineur, visiting all objects of historic interest. Crossing the Sound at
Helsinbourg, he entered the hospitable realms of Sweden. After a brief tarry
at Gottenburg, and ascending Lake Wener, he directed his steps towards
Norway, remaining for a short period at Friedrichsthal, where, in 1718, the
half-mad Charles XII., after perhaps the most stormy life through which a
mortal ever passed, breathed his last.
Proceeding to Christiania, he was received, as an intelligent and affable
traveller, with much distinction, though no one suspected his rank.
Wherever he went the purity of his character impressed itself upon the
community. M. Monod—subsequently a distinguished pastor of one of the
Protestant churches in Paris—was then at Christiania. He fully appreciated
the unusual virtues of his countryman, who, in every word and action,
manifested the spirit of true Christianity.
"M. Monod has repeatedly since been heard to declare," write A. Laugier
and Carpentier, "that the more the virtuous and instructive life of this
traveller was examined, the more exalted and exemplary it appeared. What
must have been his surprise when, subsequently, in his own country, he
recognized in the young Frenchman of Christiania, so gentle and modest, a
prince of the blood standing upon the very steps of the throne of France!"
For some time the duke remained at Christiania, His incognito.
receiving many kind attentions. On one occasion he
dined with a numerous party at a banker's in the city. In the evening, at the

close of the entertainment, as the guests were departing, the duke was
startled and alarmed by hearing the son of the banker, in a loud and
somewhat playful tone, call out, "The carriage of the Duke of Orleans." For
a moment he was much embarrassed. But perceiving that neither the young
man nor any of the company turned their eyes to him, he recovered his self-
possession, and calmly inquired of the young man, "Why do you call for the
carriage of the Duke of Orleans? What have you to do with him?"
"Nothing at all," he replied, with a smile; "but in a journey which we, not
long ago, made to Paris, every evening, as we were coming out of the
opera, we heard the people shouting on all sides, and with the greatest
eagerness, 'La voiture de Monseigneur le Duc d'Orleans! les gens de son
Altesse Royale?' I was almost stunned by the noise. At the moment it
occurred to me to imitate them, instead of simply calling for the carriage."
[D]

Continuing his journey to the north, the prince passed
through Drontheim and Hamersfeldt, which latter place Journeying
northward.
was then the most northern town in Europe. Some years
after, when Louis Philippe had ascended the throne of France, he sent a
clock to the church tower in Hamersfeldt, in graceful recognition of his
hospitable reception there as a stranger.

NORTH CAPE.

Continuing along the coast of Norway, he reached the Gulf of Salten, and
visited the world-renowned Maelstrom. Taking an Icelander, by the name of
Holm, as his guide, he entered Lapland. Thus journeying, he, on the 24th of
August, 1795, reached North Cape, the extreme northern point of Europe,
within eighteen degrees of the North Pole. It is said that no Frenchman had
ever before visited those distant and frigid regions. Here the duke remained
for several weeks, enjoying the hospitality of the simple-hearted inhabitants
—winning their confidence by his affability, and deeply interested in
studying their manners and customs.
Then, turning directly south, accompanied by several of
the natives, he reached Tornev, on the extreme northern Court ball of King
Gustavus.
shore of the Gulf of Bothnia. Thence he traversed the
eastern shores of the gulf for many weary leagues, to Abo, in Finland,
where he embarked for the Aland Islands, and reached Stockholm the latter
part of October. Here, notwithstanding all his endeavors to preserve his
incognito, his curiosity to witness a grand court ball, given in honor of the
birth-day of King Gustavus II., led to his recognition by the French envoy at
that court, though he had adopted the precaution of entering the highest
gallery in the ball-room.
The king, being informed of his presence, immediately dispatched a
messenger to say that his majesty would be happy to see the duke. The
kindest attentions were lavished upon him. From such attentions he deemed
it prudent to escape, and speedily resumed his wanderings—searching out
and carefully examining all objects of historical interest. Recrossing the
Sound, he returned to Hamburg, by the way of Copenhagen and Lubeck.
The Revolution was still running riot in France. The duke, having exhausted
the resources at his disposal, found himself in truly an embarrassing
situation.
The Directory was at that time ruling France with
despotic sway. Ever trembling in fear of a reaction, the Despotism of the
Directors would gladly place beneath the slide of the Directory.
guillotine any one in whose veins there ran a drop of royal blood. Fearful of
the great influence of the house of Orleans, even when its property was
sequestered, and its members were in prison or in exile, the greatest efforts
had been made, by means of secret agents, to find out the retreat of Louis

Philippe. At length, by some means, they discovered him in the small town
of Frederichstadt, in Holstein. His two brothers were then in prison in
Marseilles, in hourly danger of being dragged to the guillotine, upon which
their father had perished.
The Directory proposed to the Duchess of Orleans, who
was imprisoned in Paris, and to Louis Philippe, now the The duke urged to
join the emigrants.
head of the family, that if the duke and his brothers
would embark for America, leaving Europe, the two imprisoned princes
should be restored to liberty, and the sequestrated property of the family
should be refunded.
Louis XVIII., also an emigrant, in the bosom of the armies of Austria, and
surrounded by the armed nobility of France, had previously, through an
envoy, urged Louis Philippe to join the emigrants, in their attempt, by the
aid of the sword of foreigners, to re-establish the throne of France. But the
prince was not willing to bear arms against his native land.
The agents of the Directory, who now approached the
prince, presented him a letter from his mother. Her Letter from the
husband had suffered a cruel death from the executioner. duchess to her son.
Her two sons were in hourly peril of the same fate. Her eldest son and her
daughter were in exile, wandering in poverty, she knew not where. She
herself was a captive, cruelly separated from all her family, exposed to
many insults, and liable, at any hour, to suffer upon the scaffold the same
fate which her queen, Maria Antoinette, and many others of the noblest
ladies of France had already endured.
The affectionate heart of this amiable woman was lacerated with anguish.
She wrote a letter to her son, which was intrusted to the agents in search of
him, imploring him, in the most affecting terms, to rescue the family, by a
voluntary exile to America, from its dreadful woes and perils. In the letter
she wrote:
"May the prospect of relieving the misfortunes of your distressed mother, of
mitigating the sorrows of your family, and of contributing to restore peace
to your unhappy country, reward your generosity."

The duke, upon the reception of this letter, decided at once to embark for
America. To his mother he wrote: "When my beloved mother shall have
received this letter, her commands will have been executed, and I shall have
sailed for America. I shall embark in the first vessel destined for the United
States. I no longer think that happiness is lost to me while I have it in my
power to alleviate the sorrows of a cherished mother, whose situation and
sufferings have for a long time rent my heart."[E]
On the 24th of September, 1796, the Duke of Orleans
embarked at Hamburg in an American vessel, "The Embarkation for
America.
America," then a regular packet plying between that port
and Philadelphia. Still retaining his incognito, he represented himself as a
Dane, and obtained Danish passports. He paid thirty-five guineas for his
passage, and took with him his ever-faithful servant Baudoin, for whom he
paid seventeen and a half guineas. A favorable passage of twenty-seven
days landed them at Philadelphia, on the 21st of October, 1796.
We have not space here to describe the cruel sufferings
of the two younger brothers of Louis Philippe during Sufferings of the
young princes.
their captivity. The elder of the two, the Duke of
Montpensier, was but seventeen years of age; the younger, Count
Beaujolais, was but thirteen. The brothers were confined separately, in dark,
fetid dungeons, and were not allowed any communication with each other.
The health of Beaujolais soon began to suffer, and it was evident that he
must die unless he could have fresh air. The Duke of Montpensier writes, in
his touching autobiography:
"My brother Beaujolais was consequently permitted to spend two or three
hours each day in the open air, and was then remanded to his dungeon. His
cell being above mine, he was obliged to pass my door on his way out, and
he never failed to call out, 'Good-day, Montpensier; how are you?' It is
impossible to describe the effect his gentle voice had upon me, or the
distress I felt when a day passed without my hearing it; for he was
sometimes actually forbidden to utter these words, and was always hurried
by so quickly that he had scarce time to hear my answer. Once, however,
that he was permitted to remain until my dinner was brought, he kept so
close to the heels of the basket-bearer that, in spite of the administrators,
who tried to hold him back, he darted into my cell and embraced me. It was

six weeks since I had seen him—six wretched weeks. The moment was
precious, but how short! He was torn from me forthwith, with threats of
being no more allowed to go out should the same scene be repeated. I
myself was not afterwards permitted, when my cell door was opened, to go
near enough to catch the breeze which passed up the narrow staircase."
The princes were not allowed to see the public journals,
or to receive from their friends any letters which had not Their destitution.
been previously examined by their jailers. They were left in entire
ignorance of their father's execution until some time after his head had
fallen. When the awful tidings were conveyed to them, both of the young
princes, weakened by imprisonment and misery, fainted away. The hatred
with which they were pursued is evinced by the epithet of wolves' cubs,
which was ever applied to them in the clubs of the Jacobins. Eight francs a
day were allowed for their support. Their mother had sent to them, for their
immediate necessities, twelve thousand francs ($2400); but the magistrates
had seized the whole sum. As the weary months rolled on, there were
variations in the treatment of the illustrious prisoners—it sometimes being
more and sometimes less brutal, but ever marked with almost savage
ferocity. After the fall of Robespierre, a decree was passed—
"That the imprisoned members of the Orleans family should have the outer
walls of the fort as the limits of their captivity, the privilege of ranging
about within those bounds, and in future they were not to be locked up in
their cells."
The mother of the princes, the Duchess of Orleans, who
had been in close surveillance in the palace of the The attempt to
escape.
Luxembourg, in Paris, also experienced very
considerable alleviation in the severity of her treatment. From various
quarters the captives at length obtained funds, so that their pecuniary wants
were supplied. On the 18th of November, 1795, the princes made a
desperate but unavailing effort to escape. The breaking of a rope by which
Montpensier was endeavoring to let himself down, outside of the walls,
precipitated him from a great height to the ground, very seriously breaking
one of his legs. He was recaptured, and suffered terribly from mental and
bodily anguish. His brother, Beaujolais, having effected his escape, learning
of the misfortune which had befallen his brother, returned, with true

brotherly love, to voluntary captivity, that he might do something to cheer
the sufferer.
Upon the return of Beaujolais, the commandant of the prison said,
exultingly, to the Duke of Montpensier, who was writhing upon a bed of
bodily suffering and of mental anguish:
"Your young brother is again my prisoner in the fortress, and burns with
anxiety to see you. You are henceforth to be confined separately, and will
no longer have an opportunity to communicate with each other."
The two brothers were allowed one short interview. "Ah,
brother," said Beaujolais, "I fear we shall derive no Strong affection for
each other.
benefit from what I have done, for we are to be confined
separately. But without you it was impossible for me to enjoy liberty."
For forty days Montpensier was confined to his bed. It was a year and a half
before he entirely recovered the use of his broken limb. Thus three years of
almost unmitigated wretchedness passed away. There were many massacres
in the prison; and often it seemed that miraculous interposition alone had
saved them from a bloody death. Gradually the horrors of the Reign of
Terror seemed to subside. The captive princes were allowed to occupy a
room together, and that a comfortably furnished apartment in the fort,
overlooking the sea. It was under these circumstances that the mother
consented to their banishment to America, as the condition of their
liberation. The Directory, however, would not open their prison doors until
it had received official intelligence of the embarkation of Louis Philippe.
Immediately upon being satisfied that the Duke of
Orleans had sailed from Hamburg, the authorities The release of the
prepared to release the princes from their captivity, and captives.
to send them also to the New World. When all things were ready, General
Willot, a humane man, who had arrived at Marseilles with extensive
powers, informed them that the hour for their release had come.
"The prisoners at first could scarcely credit their senses. They looked
steadfastly at each other; then, throwing themselves into each other's arms,
they began to cry, laugh, leap about the room, and for several minutes
continued to manifest a temporary derangement."

It would still be a few days before the vessel would sail. Jacobinical fury
was such in Marseilles that it was not safe for the princes to appear in
public, lest they should be torn in pieces by the mob. They were therefore
removed to the house of the American consul, Mr. Cathalan, who had
manifested almost a brotherly interest in their welfare.
"It is impossible to describe," writes the Duke
Montpensier, in his autobiography, "the sensations I The contrast.
experienced in crossing the draw-bridge, and contrasting
the present moment with the frightful occasions on which I had passed it
before; the first time, on my entrance into that dismal fortress, where I had
been immured for nearly three years of my life; and the second, on my
unfortunate attempt to escape from it and recover my liberty. The gratifying
reflection that I now trod on it for the last time could with difficulty impress
itself upon my mind; and I could not avoid fancying that the whole was a
sleeping vision, the illusion of which I was every moment apprehensive of
seeing dissipated. On our exit from the fort, we were received by a strong
detachment of grenadiers, who conducted us to the sloop."
Being thus placed under the protection of the stars and stripes, the soldiers
of the Directory left them, and they repaired immediately from the vessel to
the house of the American consul, where several friends had assembled to
greet them.
"Here," continues M. Montpensier in his journal, "we
passed very agreeably the few days that remained before Blending of joy and
the departure of the vessel for America. We were, anxiety.
indeed, true birds of the night—only venturing out after dusk; but our days
passed happily enough. Still, we were too near that abode of misery, the
fort, which we never ceased to think of without anguish. And so
apprehensive were we of a sudden change in the sentiments of the existing
Government, or an actual revolution in the Government itself, that our
anxiety to depart was almost insupportable. At last we were informed that
the vessel would sail the following day. The effect of this joyous news was
the total loss of our rest during the night. Seven o'clock in the morning of
the 5th of November, 1796, found us awake and in transports of delight at
being permitted to take wings and fly to some land of toleration and liberty,
since our own had ceased to be such.

"The citizens of Marseilles, being informed of our intended departure,
assembled in crowds to see us embark. The ramparts of the fort were lined,
the windows filled. Almost all congratulated us upon the recovery of our
liberty. Some envied us our lot; while a few, undoubtedly, wished that the
sea might ingulf us where its depth was greatest, and rid France of two
members of the proscribed and hated race. The anchor was raised, and the
sails were set. A favorable breeze springing up, we soon lost sight of that
country in which we had been victims of a persecution so relentless, but for
whose prosperity and happiness we never ceased to offer up our prayers to
heaven."
The voyage was long and stormy. It was not until after The long and
the expiration of ninety-two days that the vessel, the stormy voyage.
"Jupiter," reached Philadelphia, in February, 1797. Here,
with inexpressible emotions of joy, they found their brother awaiting their
arrival. They took up their residence in a humble house in Walnut Street,
between Fourth and Fifth streets, adjoining the church; from which they
soon removed to a house which they rented from the Spanish consul, in
Sixth Street.
Philadelphia was then the seat of the Federal Government. The incognito of
the princes was removed, and they were received with marked respect and
attentions. They were present when Washington delivered his Farewell
Address to Congress, and also witnessed the inauguration of President
Adams. The funds of the princes, though not large, enabled them to meet
their frugal expenses. In the early summer the three princes—accompanied
by the faithful servant Baudoin, who had accompanied Louis Philippe in all
his wanderings—set out on horseback to visit Baltimore and other Southern
cities. The present City of Washington did not then exist. They, however,
visited Georgetown, where they were hospitably entertained by Mr. Law.
Passing through Alexandria, they took the road to Mount
Vernon, where they had been invited to pass a few days Visit to Mount
with perhaps the most illustrious man of modern ages. Vernon.
Washington, with whom they had become acquainted in Philadelphia, and
who had invited them to his house, received them with the greatest
kindness. The modest, gentlemanly, heroic character of these remarkable
young men deeply impressed him. He furnished them with letters of

introduction, and drew up an itinerary of their journey, south and west,
directing their attention to especial objects of interest.
In those early days, and through that wild, almost uncultivated country,
travelling was attended with not a little difficulty and with some danger.
Mounted on horseback, with all their baggage in saddle-bags, the princes
took leave of their honored host, and rode, by the way of Leesburg and
Harper's Ferry, to Winchester, where they were entertained in the celebrated
inn of Mr. Bush. An American has in the following terms described the
character and appearance of this celebrated landlord:
"I have him in my mind's eye as he was then, portly,
ruddy, though advanced in life, with a large, broad- The republican
brimmed hat, and with his full clothes of the olden time, landlord.
looking the very patriarch of his establishment. He had two houses—one
for his family, and the other for his guests; and there was no resting-place in
all that rich valley more frequented by travellers than his. It was a model of
neatness and comfort, and the excellent man who built it up, and who
continued it more from the desire of employment than from the love of
gain, seemed to consider the relations subsisting between the traveller and
himself as a favor to the former rather than to the latter."
Mr. Bush had been in Manheim, which Louis Philippe had recently visited,
and he could speak German. This created quite an intimacy between guest
and host, and led to a long conversation. The journey had been rough, the
exposure great, and the youngest brother, unaccustomed to such fatigue,
was greatly exhausted. The Duke of Orleans, who watched over his brother
with parental tenderness, out of regard to his prostration, asked the
privilege, so common in Europe, of having their dinner served to them in
their own room. The pride of the republican inn-keeper was touched.
"Such a request," writes G. N. Wright, "had never been
heard in the fair and fertile vale of Shenandoah, or, at all Driven from the
events, within the limits of Bush's Winchester Hotel. It inn.
infringed his rules; it wounded his professional pride; it assailed his very
honor. The recollection of Manheim, and the pleasant days he had passed
there—the agreeable opportunity of living over those hours again in the
conversation of the Duke of Orleans—the gentle conduct of the three young

strangers—were all, in a moment of extravagant folly, passion, and
intractableness, forgotten, flung to the winds, when, with a scornful air, he
addressed Louis Philippe:
"'Since you are too good to eat at the same table with my guests, you are too
good to eat in my house. I desire, therefore, that you leave it instantly.'"[F]
In vain did the Duke of Orleans endeavor to explain and Journeying in the
convince his irate host that he intended no disrespect. wilderness.
The weary travellers were compelled immediately to
leave, and to seek hospitality elsewhere. Continuing their journey through a
variety of adventures, some amusing and some painful, they passed through
Staunton, Abington, and Knoxville, and reached Nashville, in Tennessee.
After a short tarry here, they continued their ride through Louisville,
Lexington, Maysville, Chilicothe, Lancaster, Zanesville, Wheeling, to
Pittsburg, in Pennsylvania. Their accommodations in these vast wilds were
often of the humblest kind. The three brothers often slept on the floor,
wrapped in their cloaks, in some wretched hut, with their feet towards the
blazing fire, while their landlord and his wife occupied the only bed in the
only room.
At Pittsburg the travellers rested for several days. From
that place the princes directed their steps to Buffalo, Indian hospitality.
skirting, for some distance, the shores of Lake Erie. At
Cattaraugus they were the guests, for one night, of the Seneca Indians. They
felt some anxiety in reference to their baggage, the loss of which, in those
distant regions, would have been a serious calamity. The chief, perceiving
their solicitude, said that he would be personally responsible for every
article which might be committed to his care, but for nothing else. After a
little reflection, the duke placed in his hands saddles, bridles, blankets,
clothes, and money—every thing, except a beautiful dog, which he did not
think of including in the inventory. All were restored in the morning,
excepting that the dog was missing. "If the dog," said the chief, "had been
intrusted to my care, it would have been waiting your departure." With
some difficulty the favorite animal was reclaimed.
At Buffalo the travellers crossed the head of the Niagara River, and, passing
down the Canadian shore, visited the world-renowned falls. On their way,

they passed a night in the huts of the Chippewa Indians. The following
extracts, written by the Duke of Montpensier to his sister, throw much light
upon the character of these excellent young men. It was dated August 14,
1797:
"I hope you have received the letters which we wrote to
you from Pittsburg about two months ago. We were then Letter from the
in the midst of a long journey, which we have terminated Duke of
Montpensier.
only fifteen days since. It occupied us four months. We
journeyed during all that time a thousand leagues, and always upon the
same horses, except the last hundred leagues, which we performed partly by
water, partly on foot, partly on hired horses, and partly by stage, or the
public conveyance.
"We have seen many Indians, and we remained even many days in their
country. They are, in general, the best people in the world, except when
they are intoxicated or inflamed by passion. They received us with great
kindness; and our being Frenchmen contributed not a little to this reception,
for they are very fond of our nation. The most interesting object we visited,
after the Indian villages, was certainly the Cataract of Niagara, which I
wrote you word from Pittsburg that we were going to see. It is the most
astonishing and majestic spectacle I have ever witnessed. I have made a
sketch of it, from which I intend to make a water-color drawing, which our
dear little sister shall certainly see at our beloved mother's home.
"To give you an idea of the agreeable manner in which Hardships of travel.
they travel in this country, I must tell you, dear sister,
that we passed fourteen nights in the woods, devoured by all kinds of
insects, often wet to the bone, without being able to dry ourselves, and our
only food being pork, a little salt beef, and maize bread. Independently of
this adventure, we were forty or fifty nights in miserable huts, where we
were obliged to lie upon a floor made of rough timber, and to endure all the
taunts and murmuring of the inhabitants, who often turned us out of doors,
often refused us admission, and whose hospitality was always defective. I
should never recommend a similar journey to any friend of mine; yet we are
far from repenting what we have done, since we have all three brought back
excellent health and more experience.

"Adieu, beloved and cherished sister—so tenderly loved. Receive the
embraces of three brothers, whose thoughts are constantly with you."
As the travellers were proceeding from Buffalo to Canandaigua, over a
country so rude that they suffered more than on any other part of their
journey, they met Mr. Alexander Baring, afterwards Lord Ashburton, whose
acquaintance they had made in Philadelphia. Mr. Baring was on a tour to
Niagara, from which the princes were returning. His patience was quite
exhausted by the hardships he was enduring on the way; and he expressed
the doubt whether the sight of Niagara could repay one for such excessive
toil and privation. His experience must, indeed, have been different from
that of the modern tourist, who glides smoothly along in the palace-cars.
Arriving at Geneva, they took a boat and sailed up Seneca Lake to its head;
whence they crossed over to Tioga Point, on the Susquehanna. The last
twenty-five miles of this trip they accomplished on foot, each one carrying
his baggage. Passing through the country, in almost a direct line, by the way
of Wilkesbarre, they returned to Philadelphia.
Soon after their return the yellow-fever broke out in
Philadelphia with great malignity, in July, 1797. The Return to
princes had expended on their long journey all their Philadelphia.
funds, and were impatiently awaiting remittances from Europe. They were
thus unable to withdraw from the pestilence, from which all who had the
means precipitately fled. It was not until September that their mother
succeeded in transmitting to them a remittance.
With these fresh resources they commenced a journey to the Eastern States,
passing through the States of New York, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and
Massachusetts, to Boston; and it is said that they extended their travels to
Hallowell, in the District of Maine, to call upon the Vaughans, an illustrious
family from England, then residing there.
Louisiana at that time belonged to Spain. The exiles
decided to cross the country to the Ohio, descend the Crossing the
river to New Orleans, and thence to proceed to Havana, Alleghanies.
on the island of Cuba, by some Spanish vessel. Returning to Philadelphia,
they set out, on the 10th of December, 1797, to cross the Alleghanies. Upon
those heights and gorges winter had already set in, and the cold was very

severe. Just before leaving, they learned that the Directory had passed a
decree banishing every member of the Bourbon family from France,
including their mother, who was a Bourbon only by marriage, and that their
mother had taken refuge in Spain. At that time Spain was in alliance with
France, and the British Government was consequently at war against it.
At Pittsburg they found the Alleghany still open, but the
Monongahela was frozen over. They purchased a small Floating down the
river.
keel-boat, which they found lying upon the ice, and with
considerable difficulty transported it to a point where they could launch it in
the open water, though the stream was encumbered with vast masses of
floating ice. Then the three brothers, with but three attendants, embarked to
float down the Ohio and the Mississippi, through an almost unbroken
wilderness of nearly two thousand miles, to New Orleans. When they
arrived at Wheeling, Virginia, where there was a small settlement, they
found their way hedged up by solid ice, which filled the stream, from shore
to shore. They drew their boat upon the land, to wait for an opening through
this effectual barricade. Louis Philippe, with characteristic energy, impatient
of delay, ascended an eminence, and, carefully surveying the windings of
the river, found that the obstruction of ice occupied only about three miles,
beyond which the stream was clear.
Watching their opportunity, they forced their way through some miles of
broken ice, and continued their adventurous voyage. An American military
courier, less energetic, was detained three weeks by the obstructions which
the French party thus speedily overcame. At Marietta, Ohio, they found
another small village. Here they landed to lay in supplies; and they spent
some time in examining those Indian mounds so profusely scattered there—
interesting memorials of an extinct race.
Continuing their voyage amidst the masses of ice which still encumbered
these northern waters, they one day, through the negligence of their
helmsman, ran against a branch of a tree, termed a snag, and stove in their
bows. The boat was immediately unloaded, drawn upon the shore, and in
twenty-four hours was so repaired as to enable them to continue their
journey. As they entered more southern latitudes the floating ice
disappeared, and the voyage became more pleasant, as they rapidly floated
down the tortuous stream, by forests and headlands, and every variety of

wild, sublime, and beautiful scenery, until they reached New Orleans, on
the 17th of February, 1798.
Here they met with a very friendly welcome, not only
from the colonists generally, but from the Spanish Welcome in New
Orleans.
governor, Don Gayoso. They were detained in New
Orleans five weeks, awaiting the arrival of the corvette which was engaged
in conveying passengers and light freight from that port to Havana.
Impatient of the delay, as the packet did not arrive, they embarked in an
American vessel. England was then truly mistress of the seas. She made and
executed her own laws, regardless of all expostulations from other nations.
As the American vessel was crossing the Gulf of
Mexico, she was encountered by an English frigate, Arrogance of the
which, by firing several guns, brought her to, and BritishGovernment.
immediately boarded her. The British Government had
adopted the very extraordinary principle that an English ship might stop a
ship, of whatever nationality, on the seas, board her, summon her
passengers and crew upon the deck, and impress, to serve as British
seamen, any of those passengers or crew whom the officers of the frigate
might pronounce to be British subjects. From their decision there was no
appeal.

"The princes," says the Rev. G. N. Wright, "had an opportunity of
witnessing one of those violations of international law which not only
marked but degraded the maritime history of that period, by the gross
sacrifice of public law and private liberty. This was the seizure and
impressment of men employed on board neutral vessels, and compelling
them to enter the navy of a foreign country. The crew, being mustered on
the deck, Captain Cochrane selected the ablest hands from among them—
taking them on a service in which they not only had no interest, but with
which some of them were actually at variance, and might, therefore, be
compelled to fight against their own country.
"It is not the least strange, of all the strange events which have occurred in
those days of change, that a young man, a passenger on board an American
ship, and who was brought by circumstances in contact with the practical
operation of the iniquitous claim which Great Britain set up—of taking out
of vessels sailing under the American flag any person they pleased—should
have been called upon subsequently, when upon the throne of France, by
the English Government to disavow the forcible abduction of a seaman
from an English ship."
Many years after this, when Louis Philippe was king of
the French, a French frigate, from a squadron blockading Action of the
Vera Cruz, boarded an English packet-ship, and took out French
Government.
of her a Mexican pilot. All England resounded with a
burst of indignation. Both Houses of Parliament passed a decree that such
an act was a gross outrage upon the British flag, which demanded
immediate apology from the French Government.
"The pilot," said Lord Lyndhurst, "had come on board,
under the protection of the British flag. But in this The "right of
search."
instance it was no protection. A more grave and serious
outrage was never committed against our country."
"Any man," said Lord Brougham, "on board a British merchantman is as
much under the protection of the British flag as if he were on board the
queen's ship. The gravemen of the charge is that a man has been taken from
an English ship."

Louis Philippe, who deemed it essential to the stability of his throne to
maintain friendly relations with the British Government, humbly disavowed
the act in the name of his country, while he considerately forbore from
taunting the British Government with its own opposite and arbitrary course,
or from congratulating it upon the happy change of principles which it had
so suddenly experienced.
Captain Cochrane, learning that the Duke of Orleans,
with his brothers, the Duke of Montpensier and Count Narrow escape.
Beaujolais, were on board the small and uncomfortable
American vessel, politely invited them to continue the remainder of their
voyage in the enjoyment of the superior accommodations of his large and
commodious ship. The deck of the frigate towered far above that of the
humble American merchantman. A rope was lowered to assist the travellers
in their ascent. The Duke of Orleans slipped his hold and fell into the sea.
Being an excellent swimmer, he swam around to the stern of the ship, where
a boat was lowered, which rescued him from his unwelcome bath. On the
31st of March, 1798, the British frigate landed them safely in Havana.

Chapter IV.

The Tomb and the Bridal.
1799-1809

T he position of the French princes was peculiarly
embarrassing. Both of the parties into which all the The antagonistic
parties.
nations of Europe were then divided suspected and
feared them. The Royalists could not forget that the father of the princes
had taken the title of Egalité, had renounced all feudal privileges, had voted
for the death of the king, and had placed himself at the head of the
democratic movement in France.
The liberal or democratic party could not forget that the young princes were
by birth in the highest ranks of the nobility, that by blood relationship they
were nearly connected with the crown, that their whole family had been so
utterly crushed by democratic rule that they could not but hate that rule, and
that there was a party in France, sustained by many of the courts in Europe,
in favor of reaction and of re-establishing the throne with the young Duke
of Orleans as king. Thus the Orleans princes were alike suspected and
feared by both parties.
The government in Madrid was in entire sympathy with
the aristocratic party in Europe. Though the Orleans Driven from Cuba.
princes had been received in Cuba, by the Spanish
authorities and leading citizens, with much attention, as the victims of
democratic fury, the government of Madrid, remembering only the
democracy of Egalité, and fearing that the princes, retaining their father's
principles, might unfurl the dreaded tri-color in Havana, sent an order dated
May 21, 1799, ordering the captain-general of the island not to permit any
longer the presence of the dukes of Orleans and of Montpensier, and of their
brother, Count Beaujolais, but to send them immediately to New Orleans,
without any regard to their mode of subsistence.
Under these circumstances the exiles, withdrawing from Cuba, succeeded in
reaching the Bahama Islands, which belonged to England, and thence sailed

for Halifax. The Duke of Kent, son of George III., and father of Queen
Victoria, was then in Halifax, and received them with guarded and formal
courtesy. Not certain what might be the feelings of the British Cabinet in
reference to them, he did not feel authorized to grant them a passage to
England on board a British vessel of war. They, therefore, embarked in a
small vessel for New York, and there took passage in a regular packet-ship
for England.
In the first week in February, 1800, the ship reached
Falmouth. Immediately the princes forwarded a request Take refuge in
England.
to George III. that they might be permitted to land in
England and proceed to London. The request was promptly granted, and on
the sixth of the month they reached the capital. To convince the court and
the nobility of England that they were entirely weaned from all those
democratic tendencies which had brought such awful ruin upon their house,
they selected Twickenham as their place of residence. It was a beautiful and
salubrious site in the midst of the family seats of the English aristocracy,
and in the vicinity of Windsor Castle, the ancient and world-renowned
palace of the British kings. Here every movement would be open to the
eyes of the British aristocracy, and the mode of life of the princes, their
associates, and their manner of spending their leisure hours, would all be
known. The spotless and amiable character of these young men rapidly
secured for them the confidence and esteem of all their acquaintances.
The unhappy son of Louis XVI., whom the Legitimists
regarded as their sovereign under the title of Louis Courted by the
XVII., had perished of brutal treatment in his dungeon, Bourbons.
on the 6th of June, 1796.[G] The Legitimists now recognized the elder
brother of Louis XVI., the Count de Provence, as king, with the title of
Louis XVIII. The Count de Provence, assuming all the etiquette of royalty,
and recognized by nearly all the courts of Europe as the lawful sovereign of
France, held his court at Mittau, in Courland, surrounded by a crowd of
emigrant courtiers. His only brother, Count d'Artois, who subsequently
ascended the throne of France as Charles X., resided in London,
punctiliously maintaining court etiquette.

LOUIS XVII. IN PRISON.
The Count d'Artois, anxious to secure the open and cordial co-operation of
the Duke of Orleans in behalf of the Royalist cause, sent him an earnest
invitation to come to London, assuring him of an affectionate greeting on
his own part and that of his friends. The duke repaired to London, and was
received on the 13th of February with princely hospitality by the count and
other members of the Bourbon family, at his residence in Welbeck Street,
Cavendish Square.
"The king, Louis XVIII.," said the Count d'Artois, "will
be delighted to see you; but it will be proper and Reconciliation.
necessary that you should first write to him." The Duke
of Orleans did so. In this letter he must have recognized the sovereignty of
Louis XVIII., a sovereignty founded on legitimacy, for he received a
courteous and cordial reply. Thus there seemed to be a perfect
reconciliation, social and political, between the elder and younger branches
of the Bourbon family.

General Dumouriez had visited the court of the exiled monarch, pledged to
him his homage, mounted the white cockade, and, receiving a commission
in the Russian army, was marching with the Allies against republican
France. All his energies were consecrated to the restoration of the house of
Bourbon-Orleans.
Count d'Artois left no means untried to induce the Duke of Orleans and his
brothers to enlist under the standard of emigration. But an instinctive
reluctance to unite with foreigners in their war against France, and the
entreaties of their anxious mother that they should not, in those dark and
perilous hours, commit themselves to the apparently hopeless cause of the
royal confederacy, led the cautious duke to adhere to the life of privacy
upon which he had entered. But it is scarcely possible but that, under the
circumstances, both he and his brothers must have longed for the restoration
of the Bourbons, which would have enabled them to return to France and to
enter upon the enjoyment of their exalted rank and their vast estates.
Still, the princes were subject to many humiliations and
annoyances. The partisan press, on both sides, assailed Embarrassments of
them with every species of calumny. "The leading the princes.
ministerial journals in London declared openly that they suspected the
sincerity of the young Duke of Orleans in his late repentance; and that his
past exemplary conduct should not be accepted as any security against his
future treachery."
But the emigrants in London generally, and the British
Court, assumed to place full reliance in the Aristocratic
reconciliation between the Bourbon and the Orleans attentions.
branches of the royal family. All the arts of flattery were employed to
cement this union, and to lead the princes to commit themselves irreparably
to the royal cause. England, under the ministry of William Pitt, was waging
relentless warfare against revolutionary France. On the 20th of February the
princes were invited to meet England's most renowned prime minister, and
the most implacable foe of republican institutions in France, at a dinner-
party, at the town mansion of the Count d'Artois. Lord Grenville gave a
magnificent entertainment in their honor, on the 1st of March, 1800; and the
next Sunday the exiles were presented to his majesty George III. at a levee
held especially for that purpose.[H]

On the 13th of March the Russian ambassador, Count Woronzo, following
in the train of these marked civilities, invited them to a princely banquet,
which was attended by all the aristocracy of London, at his mansion in
Harley Street; and on the 13th of March his Royal Highness the Prince of
Wales honored them by an invitation to Carlton House to meet all the
foreign ambassadors.
The Orleans princes were now fully introduced to
fashionable life in London. Their presence was deemed Fashionable life in
essential to the completeness of any soirée or banquet. London.
The Marchioness of Salisbury, then the arbitress in London of fashion and
elegance, invited the princes to meet at her house four hundred guests of the
highest rank and distinction, among whom was the Prince of Wales. Then
the Lady Mayoress of the city, Lady Harvey Combe, threw open to them
Egyptian Hall in as magnificent an entertainment as the times could furnish.
Immediately following this brilliant scene, the Duke of Clarence,
subsequently William IV., invited them to a dinner-party, which in many
respects surpassed all which had preceded it in splendor. All these people
who thus fêted them were combining their energies to overthrow
revolutionary principles in France, and to reinstate the Bourbons.
At this time the British Cabinet was preparing an armed force for the
invasion of France by a descent on the southern coast. The report was
circulated that the three Orleans princes were to assume the white cockade
and accompany this military expedition against their native country. At the
same time, the Bourbon princes renewed their solicitations to the Orleans
princes to range themselves, with arms in their hands, under the standard of
emigration. But the great victory of Marengo just then took place, which
threw into the power of the First Consul all of upper Italy, and compelled
the utterly discomfited Austrians to withdraw from the British alliance. It
was a dark hour for the Royalist cause in France.
The exiled princes, who found but little in the festivities of London to
alleviate their world-weariness, or to cheer them in the peculiar
embarrassments and trials of their position, after several minor adventures,
withdrew to their retreat in Twickenham, where they endeavored to seclude
themselves from observation and from all participation in public affairs.

The Duke of Orleans devoted himself to the study of
English institutions, visiting the prominent Domestic habits.
establishments of learning and of industry. The
irreproachable character of this virtuous prince, his high intellectual culture,
dignified bearing, amiable disposition, and persistent refusal to involve
himself in any intrigues, secured for him general admiration. Months of
tranquillity, almost of happiness, glided away. But sorrow is the doom of
man. The Duke of Orleans had not yet drained the cup which was prepared
for his lips.
The health of the Duke of Montpensier had been for
some time rapidly failing. His constitution and that of Death of the Duke
of Montpensier.
his brother, Count Beaujolais, had been quite
undermined by the hardships they had endured during their imprisonment.
All the remedies which the best medical advice could administer proved
unavailing. It soon became manifest that death was approaching by slow
but resistless strides. The young duke, conscious that his end was
approaching, bore all his sufferings with the most amiable and
uncomplaining resignation, until, on the 18th of May, 1807, he fell asleep.
The grief of the Duke of Orleans and of the Count of Beaujolais, in the loss
of so gentle and tenderly-beloved a brother, was very great. The funeral
ceremonies were attended in London with almost regal pomp. The Count
d'Artois was present as one of the principal mourners. The gloom of
twilight had begun to fall upon the city as the imposing procession
approached Westminster Abbey, to convey the remains of the long-suffering
prince to the darkness of the tomb. The procession was led by mules
bearing plumes of white feathers. A mourning-carriage, containing the heart
of the deceased in an urn, was drawn by six horses, decorated with the
richest funereal caparisons, and led by postilions in the mourning-livery of
the house of Orleans. The hearse followed, preceded by a herald with a
coronet on a velvet cushion.
The empty private carriage of the deceased was followed by many other
carriages filled with the noblesse of France, each drawn by six horses. The
state equipages of the Prince of Wales and of the Dukes of Sussex and York,
with postilions in state livery, closed the procession. With such mournful

pageants were the mortal remains of the exile consigned to the ancient
mausoleum of the kings of England.
"Sorrows," says the poet, "come in troops." Scarcely
were the remains of the Duke of Montpensier placed in Sickness of Count
Beaujolais.
the tomb, ere his brother, Count Beaujolais, began
rapidly to fail. He was urged to seek a milder climate in Malta or Madeira.
To the solicitations of his fond and anxious brother he replied:
"I feel that my life is soon to terminate as Montpensier's did. What is the
use of going so far to seek a tomb, and thus to lose the consolation of dying
in this retreat where we have at last found repose. Let us remain in this
hospitable land. Here, at least, I shall be permitted to die in a brother's arms,
and share a brother's tomb."
Still, amiably yielding to the anxiety of his brother, he
consented, against his own judgment, to accompany him Death of Count
Beaujolais.
to the island of Malta. The climate not agreeing with
him, and his strength rapidly failing, the Duke of Orleans wrote to
Ferdinand IV., king of Naples, soliciting permission to visit the salubrious
clime where he had established his court. Ferdinand IV., flying from the
revolution beneath which his throne had crumbled, had sought refuge,
protected by the British fleet, in the old Moorish castle, called the Palazzo
Reale, near Palermo, on the island of Sicily. To the application of the duke
to repair with his dying brother to those genial skies, a very cordial consent
was returned. But before the reply arrived, the gentle spirit of Beaujolais
had taken its flight to join the spirit of Montpensier in the eternal world.
With tearful eyes and an almost broken heart, the bereaved Duke of Orleans
deposited the wasted remains of his dearly-beloved brother in the vaults of
the church of St. John, in Valetta.
Having performed these last sad rites, and feeling almost alone and
desolate, in a world where he had experienced so many sorrows and so few
joys, influenced by the friendly invitation of the Sicilian Court, he
embarked for the island of Sicily, and reached Messina in safety.
Proceeding to Palermo, he was welcomed with great cordiality to the
ancient and massive palace. The commanding figure of the prince, his
finely chiselled features, his dignified bearing, united with a frank, cordial,

unaffected address, his intelligence and accomplishments, all combined
with that nameless charm of a pensive spirit, created by the greatest
sufferings patiently endured, secured for him the admiration and the
warmest sympathy of the Sicilian family.
The second daughter of the king, the Princess Amelia,
was a young lady whom all unite in describing as The Princess
Amelia.
possessed of unusual attractions of person and character.
A strong attachment almost immediately sprang up between them. But the
Duke of Orleans was a wanderer, an exile, deprived of his patrimonial
estates, and living upon the hospitality of others or upon those fragments
which by chance had been saved from the utter wreck of the possessions
which had descended to him from his ancestors. Should he recover his rank
and possessions, it would be a suitable match. Should he fail, he would
prove but a needy adventurer. The proud queen was perplexed whether to
frown upon or to encourage his suit.
In France the anarchy of the Conventions and of the
Directory had given place to the Consulate and the Banner of the
Empire. Under the sagacious and energetic rule of Empire.
Napoleon, France had risen to dignity and power unequalled by that of any
other nation in Europe. Napoleon had seized upon the fundamental
principle of the Revolution, Equal Rights for all Men, and, inscribing that
upon his banners, had reorganized France with such skill as to enable her to
bid defiance to despotic Europe in arms against that principle. All France
seemed united in this government of republican principles under
monarchical forms, and, notwithstanding the implacable hostility and
persistent coalition of foreign dynasties, all hopes of the restoration of the
Bourbons seemed to have vanished. Ferdinand of Naples and his queen,
who was an Austrian princess, and sister of Maria Antoinette, had, with
great determination, espoused the cause of the Allies against France. A
revolution in their own kingdom, aided by French arms, had driven them
from the continent of Italy to the island of Sicily, where they were protected
by an English army of twenty thousand men, and by the invincible fleet of
Great Britain, which had entire command of the seas.
The position of the Duke of Orleans in the Sicilian Court
must have been very embarrassing. Ferdinand, a weak The Duke of
Orleans in the

man, and his wife, an intriguing, reckless woman, did Sicilian Court.
every thing they could to entangle their illustrious
visitor, and the suitor of their daughter, in the meshes of the intrigues in
which they were ever involved. Napoleon had shown a very decided
disposition to conciliate the Orleans family, and to restore to them their
possessions if he could have any assurance that the vast influence which
they would thus possess would not be used in the attempt to overthrow the
republican empire which France had so cordially accepted. The cautious
duke felt that it would be the height of folly to hurl himself against a power
which seemed irresistible.
The Spanish Court had treacherously, while professing
friendship for France, entered into a conspiracy with the Spanish intrigues.
Allies to strike her in the back in the anticipated hour of
disaster. The Spanish war ensued, into the merits of which we have no
space here to enter. The king and queen of Sicily hoped to place upon the
throne of Spain their son Leopold; and they urged the Duke of Orleans to go
to Spain, and, under the patronage of England, to take command of an army
for the invasion of France.
Influenced by these importunities, the duke repaired with evident reluctance
to Gibraltar; but seeing no chance for Leopold, he passed over to England
to confer with the British Cabinet.[I] The duke was a Frenchman, and,
instead of being cordially received in Spain, found himself in danger of
being mobbed by the ignorant and fanatic populace. Lord Collingwood
wrote to the British Government, in reference to this movement, in behalf
of Prince Leopold, through the agency of the Duke of Orleans:
"Several of the nobles who attend his royal highness are French, and there
is no government here which can give protection to any Frenchman from
the populace."
England did not favor the idea of placing a Sicilian
prince on the throne of Spain by the aid of a French Wandering of the
Duchess of Orleans.
duke. Thus the enterprise was finally abandoned. In the
then disturbed state of Europe, nearly all the countries being more or less
ravaged by the sweep of hostile armies, and there being no regular postal
communication, and no free passage from one country to another, it was

often impossible for the Duke of Orleans to learn, for long periods of time,
what was the fate of his mother and his sister, or even where they were.
Upon the decree by the Directory of the expulsion of all the Bourbons from
France, the Duchess of Orleans had retired to Figueras, in Spain.
In June, 1808, one of the tempests of war reached that town, and in a terrific
bombardment of a few hours it was laid in ashes. The Duchess of Orleans
fled from her home at midnight, only a few hours before it was blown into
the air by a shower of bombs. Escaping from these scenes of ruin and woe,
the widowed, almost childless, and friendless duchess, but still maintaining
wonderful fortitude of character, found refuge, after many painful
adventures, in Port Mahon, on the island of Minorca.
The Duke of Orleans, thwarted in his plans, regarded with jealousy by the
British Cabinet, and assailed with bitterest contumely in both aristocratic
and democratic journals, applied to the English Secretary of State for
permission to pass to Port Mahon to join his mother. But the British
authorities would not consent to his landing anywhere on the Spanish
territories. They, however, at length yielded to his importunities so far as to
allow him to embark in an English frigate for the island of Malta, the
captain of the frigate receiving strict injunctions not even to approach the
Spanish coast.
Proceeding to Portsmouth, where he was to embark, he
there, to his inexpressible joy, met his only and dearly The brother and
beloved sister, from whom he had so long been sister united.
separated. This virtuous, amiable, but unhappy princess, had long been
striving to join her wandering brothers and share their fate. Thus far she had
been baffled in every endeavor, and two of them had sadly gone down into
the grave, unsustained by those consolations which a sister's love and
attentions might have afforded them. The princess had finally succeeded in
tracing her only surviving brother from Sicily to Gibraltar, and from
Gibraltar to England. She had thus providentially met him just as he was
embarking for Malta.
The brother and sister sailed together, and landed at the
port of Valetta, in Malta, in February, 1809. Thence the Their arrival at
Malta.
duke dispatched a private messenger, the Chevalier de

Brovul, to seek an interview with his mother, to explain to her the
impossibility of their going to Minorca, and to entreat her to join them, if
possible, in Malta.
"The duke's agent," writes the English historian, Rev. G. N. Wright, "was
faithful, intelligent, and active. But the impediments which were placed in
his path rendered his progress in negotiation slow, and at length completely
obstructed them."
The Spaniards did not love the English, and the English made no efforts to
disguise their contempt of the Spaniards. There was no cordial co-operation
of action. There was a strong party in Spain in favor of the regeneration of
their country by the enlightened and liberal views which Joseph Bonaparte
was introducing. There was another powerful party opposed to France, and
equally opposed to British domination.
"The greatest anarchy," says Mr. Wright, "prevailed in
every part of the Peninsula. The Spaniards were divided Anarchy in Spain.
in their allegiance, and a Bonapartist party was formed
in the heart of the country. The national resources were exhausted; and their
co-operation with the English wanted that cordiality to which her noble
efforts had entitled her, and which Spanish policy ought to have extended to
them.
"Brovul, who had been dispatched to convey a mere affectionate expression
of regard and love from her children to the venerable duchess, became, on
his route, transformed into a political envoy. It was now distinctly and
emphatically proposed, by several of the most distinguished men of the
Spanish national party, that the Duke of Orleans should be invited over into
Spain, and that he should place himself at their head, and lead an army of
invasion into France.
"A secret agent was sent into the southern provinces of France to ascertain
the public sentiment there. He reported that the people looked to the Duke
of Orleans as the only member of the Bourbon family who enjoyed a
military reputation; as a prince whose sword had been sharpened by the
wrongs of his race, and that they declared, in the most enthusiastic manner,
their readiness to follow him to victory or death."

Misled by this report, which proved to be a gross
exaggeration, the Spanish Junta appointed the Duke of Unfriendly conduct
Orleans to a command destined to act on the frontiers of of the Queen of
Sicily.
Catalonia. But the local juntas were opposed to the
movement. There was no harmony—no combined action. All was
confusion, and the duke made no attempt to enter upon his command.[J] The
Sicilian queen, Maria Caroline, irritated by the utter failure of the
movement in behalf of her son, and disappointed that the Duke of Orleans
had so little influence over the British Cabinet, became quite alienated from
her prospective son-in-law, wrote very cold letters to him, and the failure of
the marriage treaty was openly spoken of in the court and in the journals.
The duke—whose attachment to the Princess Amelia was very strong—
alarmed by these procedures, repaired immediately to Palermo to confront
his enemies and to plead his cause. He was successful. The confidence and
love of Amelia had never abated. The presence of the illustrious young man
—so handsome, so intelligent, so spotless in character, so fascinating and
princely in his bearing—soon dispelled all clouds. The queen could no
longer withhold her consent to the nuptials. With happiness thus beginning
to dawn upon him, the duke wrote as follows to his mother:
"Their majesties urged some objections to the marriage
of a princess of their house to a wandering exile like Eulogy upon the
Duchess of Orleans.
myself. Upon which I stated that I should apply to you
and induce you to advocate my cause, and become security for my
principles and fidelity to those to whom I promised allegiance. 'Ah,' replied
the queen, 'if you can obtain the advocacy of that angel, it will, indeed, be
impossible to refuse you any thing.' I should like, dear mother, to give you a
faithful portrait of the princess, who was destined to be my bride, even
before her birth. But I feel that I could make but an indifferent and very
unworthy sketch. She possesses many amiable and elevated qualities, which
I shall take the liberty of summing up in one brief sentence, by assuring you
that she seems to be a perfect model of my mother."
Soon after this the duchess embarked in an English
frigate for Palermo, and reached there in safety on the The wedding.
15th of October, 1809. Thus, after long, long years of separation, the
survivors of the exiled family, though still in exile, were reunited. On the

25th of November the nuptial benediction was pronounced in the beautiful
old Norman chapel of the Palazzo Reale.
"The most remarkable and curious fact connected with the origin and
structure of the Capella Reale is, that to the completion of this most perfect
illustration of the art of ecclesiastic building three nations have contributed
—the Greeks, Saracens, and Normans. And by this fortuitous association
the chaste style of the ancients, the cold manner of the Northerns, and the
luxurious fashion of the East are all here blended in perfect harmony."[K]
General Cass, the American minister to France, who, thirty years after these
events, wrote from the palace of the Tuileries, where Louis Philippe and his
amiable queen were then enthroned, says:
"The queen was the daughter of that King of Naples who
was driven from his Continental dominions by the Character of the
bride.
French, and took refuge, with his family and court, in Her benevolence.
Sicily. Here the king, Louis Philippe, then poor and in
exile, married her; and the match is understood to have been one of
affection on both sides. The thirtieth anniversary of their union has just
expired, and they are at the summit of human power, with a most interesting
family of seven children, and, as is known to every body, with the warmest
attachment to each other. In the bitterness of French political discussions no
whisper of calumny has ever been heard against the queen. And one who
could pass through this ordeal has nothing more to dread from human
investigation. A kinder, more anxious mother is nowhere to be found. She is
a sincere believer in the Christian religion, and devout in the performance
of its duties. Her charity is known throughout the country, and appeals for
the distressed are never made to her in vain. In the performance of her regal
duties, while her bearing is what the nature of her position requires, there is
a kind of affability which seems continually seeking to put all around her as
much at their ease as possible."[L]

Chapter V.

The Restoration.
1814-1817

T he court of Ferdinand IV., one of the most worthless
and corrupt of the old feudal dynasties, was The Sicilian Court.
maintained in Sicily by the army, the navy, and the purse
of England. His Sicilian majesty received from the British Government an
annual subsidy of four hundred thousand pounds sterling ($2,000,000), to
support the dignity of his throne, and to pay for the troops which Sicily
furnished England for her interminable warfare against the French Empire.
The Duke of Orleans severely condemned the errors and follies continually
developed by the reigning dynasty, and yet he found himself utterly
powerless to remedy them. The queen was the ruling power at the court,
and her prejudiced and impassioned nature was impervious to any appeals
of reason. She knew very well that England did not loan her protection and
lavish her gold upon the Sicilian Court from any love for that court, but
simply from dread and hatred of the republican principles advocated by
Napoleon. She, therefore, often treated the English with the utmost disdain.
And yet, sustained by twenty thousand British troops upon the island, she
trampled upon all popular rights, consigning, by arbitrary arrests, to the
dungeon or to exile all who opposed her sway.
"Against these violations of law, infringements of
liberty, and manifestations of absolutism, the Sicilians Retirement of the
duke.
rose with becoming firmness. The Duke of Orleans had
long foreseen the approaching hurricane, the gathering wrath of an injured
people; but finding his remonstrances vain, his principles of government
almost directly contrary to those of his august mother-in-law, he retired
from a court where there was no room for a virtuous counsellor, and, with
his wife and her infant prince, lived in retirement a few miles from
Palermo."[M]
The duke was living tranquilly, and perhaps not
unhappily, in this retirement, abstaining from all The Restoration.

participation in the intrigues of the Sicilian Court, when, on the morning of
the 23d of April, 1814, an English frigate, with every banner floating
triumphantly in the breeze, entered the harbor of Palermo. It brought the
astounding intelligence of the fall of Napoleon and the restoration of the
Bourbons. The exciting tidings soon reached the ears of the duke. He
hurried to Palermo, and drove directly to the palace of the English
ambassador, where he was greeted with the words:
"I congratulate you upon the downfall of Napoleon, and on the restoration
of the illustrious race, of which you yourself are a member, to the throne of
their fathers."
For a moment the duke was speechless with astonishment, and then
declared the story to be quite incredible. He however was soon convinced
that it was even so, by reading a copy of the Moniteur, which gave a
detailed account of the whole event. All the shipping and all the forts of
Palermo were now resounding with the thunders of exultation. The Duke of
Orleans had fought under the tri-color flag. Mingled emotions agitated him.
He saw that national banner which had waved so proudly over many a field
of victory now trampled in the dust beneath the feet of foreign squadrons,
and their allied armies exultingly encamped within the parks of his native
city. The restoration of the Bourbons had been accomplished at the expense
of the humiliation of his country.
The next day, the commander of the ship which had brought the intelligence
called at the residence of the Duke of Orleans, and said to him,
"I am directed by Admiral Lord William Bentinck, who
is now at Genoa, to wait upon your royal highness, and The return to Paris.
ascertain if you wish to return to France. If so, my vessel
and my personal services are at your command. If you prefer to remain at
Naples, I hope you may enjoy that lasting happiness to which, by your
eventful and virtuous life, you are so eminently entitled."[N]
The duke pondered the fact that he was invited to return
to Paris, not by an envoy from the restored king, but by Arrival in Paris.
an officer in the British navy. Still the prince resolved
immediately to repair to Paris. Taking an affectionate farewell of his wife
and their infant son, he embarked on board the English frigate,

accompanied by a single servant, and on the eighteenth of May, 1814,
entered his native city, from which he had so long been an exile. Louis
XVIII. was already there, having returned to Paris in the rear of the
bayonets and the batteries of foreign troops. It was his majesty's expressed
wish that the Palais Royal, the hereditary mansion of the Orleans family,
should be repaired and restored to its former owners. During the republican
and imperial rule, its numerous and spacious apartments had been
appropriated to private residences. The duke, upon arriving in Paris, availed
himself of temporary accommodations in furnished apartments in the Rue
Grange Batelière. One of his first steps was to repair incognito to the home
of his fathers. The Swiss servants who guarded the palace still wore the
imperial livery. With some reluctance they yielded to the importunities of
the stranger, and allowed him to penetrate the interior apartments.
"As he approached the grand staircase, the recollections of his boyhood, the
lustre of his ancient race, the agonies of mind he had endured since he last
beheld that spot, and gratitude to that Providence which had spared him
amidst such universal ruin, completely overwhelmed him, and, falling
prostrate on the tesselated pavement, he imprinted a thousand kisses on the
cold white marble, while tears gushing from his eyes indicated, while they
relieved, the emotions with which he contended."[O]
The next day the duke was presented to his majesty, Louis XVIII., at the
Tuileries. As he approached the royal presence, the king advanced towards
him, and said,
"Your highness was a lieutenant-general in the service of
your country twenty-five years ago, and you are still the Reception by the
Bourbons.
same."
The assumption adopted by Louis XVIII. that there had been no
interruption of the Bourbon reign, and the attempt to blot from history the
twenty-five most eventful years in the annals of France, deservedly excited
both contempt and ridicule. An American writer of distinction says:
"The unconquerable prejudices of the Bourbons, and their studied ignorance
of the feelings of the country they were called to govern after an exile of
twenty-five years, were the prognostics as well as the cause of their ultimate
fall.

"Their imperial predecessor had indeed left them a
difficult task. His career was so brilliant that it may well Testimony of an
American.
have dazzled his countrymen, and left them unfitted for
a milder domination. He was, indeed, a wonderful man; and I have been
more powerfully impressed than ever, since my arrival in France, with the
prodigious force of his character, and with the gigantic scope as well as the
vast variety of his plans.
"I am satisfied that circumstances have not been favorable to a just
appreciation of the whole character of Napoleon in the United States. While
he was at the head of the nation, we surveyed him very much through the
English journals, and we imbibed all the prejudices which a long and bitter
war had engendered against him in England. To be sure, his military renown
could not be called in question; but of his civic talents a comparatively
humble estimate was formed. I have since learned to correct this
appreciation."[P]
It was the undisguised effort of Louis XVIII., now
restored by foreign armies to the throne, to annihilate the Pride of the
memory of all that France had achieved at home and Bourbons.
abroad, under the administration of Napoleon. The tri-
color was exchanged for the white banner of the Bourbons, and the eagles
were replaced by the Gallic cock. All the insignia of imperialism were
carefully obliterated. The evidence seems quite conclusive that the king,
notwithstanding his apparent reconciliation with the Duke of Orleans, still
regarded him with much suspicion, and would have been very willing that
he should have continued in exile. Indeed, the king seemed disposed to
revive old family feuds, that he might keep the duke estranged, as far as
possible, from the sympathies of the Legitimist party.
The Duchess of Orleans was of royal blood, the daughter of a king. But the
father of the Duke of Orleans had worn only a ducal, not a royal crown. The
king, consequently, gave orders that, whenever the Duke of Orleans and his
suite should appear at court, both of the folding-doors of the grand entrance
should be thrown open for the duchess, while but one should be opened for
her husband.

In July the duke embarked in a French ship of the line, with Baron Athalin
and Count Sainte Aldegonde as his aids, to transfer his family from Palermo
to Paris. Early in August they were luxuriously domiciled in his magnificent
ancestral home. Madame de Genlis, now venerable in years, and having
ever retained the reverence and affection of her distinguished pupils,
hastened to join the ducal family in the saloons of the Palais Royal.
"This resolution," she writes, "procured me the
inexpressible happiness of once more seeing my pupils, Madame de Genlis.
Mademoiselle and the Duke of Orleans. In our first
interview they both displayed to me all the affection, all the emotion and
delight which I myself experienced. Alas! how deeply I felt, at this meeting,
the absence of the beloved pupils, the Duke of Montpensier and his brother
Count Beaujolais, who both died in exile."
The winter passed rapidly away, and on the 5th of
March, 1815, to the dismay of the Bourbons, and of all Triumphal advance
the crowned heads of Europe, the tidings reached Paris of Napoleon.
that Napoleon had left Elba, landed at Cannes, and, accompanied by ever-
increasing thousands of enthusiastic supporters, was on the triumphal march
towards the metropolis. The most terrible proclamations were hurled against
him by Louis XVIII., but all in vain. All opposition melted before the
popular emperor. The path from Cannes to Paris was over six hundred miles
in length, through the heart of France. But the Bourbons, with the armies of
France nominally at their disposal, and the sympathies of all the feudal
dynasties in Europe enlisted in their behalf, could summon no force
sufficient to arrest the progress of that one unarmed man. The Duke of
Orleans hastened to the presence of his majesty, and, addressing the
trembling monarch, said:
"Sire, as for me, I am prepared to share both your bad and good fortune.
Although one of your royal race, I am your subject, servant, and soldier. Do
with me as your majesty pleases, for the honor and peace of our country."
The king sent him to Lyons; to co-operate with the king's brother, the Count
d'Artois, subsequently Charles X., in the endeavor to retard, by every means
in their power, the advance of the ex-emperor upon Paris. A council of war
was immediately held, the Count d'Artois presiding. Marshal Macdonald

proved to the satisfaction of all present that it would be impossible to
prevent the occupation of Lyons by Napoleon. Thence his march to Paris
would be unimpeded.
All was consternation in the Bourbon Court. Louis Philippe broke up his
establishment, and dispatched his wife and family, by the most expeditious
route, to England. The armies of France were concentrated as rapidly as
possible on the borders of the Rhine, where the allied troops could hurry to
their support. The Duke of Orleans was invested with the command of this
army of the north. Louis XVIII., surrounded by a small body of Guards,
entered his carriage and fled precipitately across the Rhine, to place himself
again under the protection of the allied sovereigns who were convened in
Congress at Vienna.
The accompanying cut will give the reader a vivid idea
of the departure. The king was enormously fat. His Flight of Louis
figure, with long body and very short legs, was peculiar XVIII.
almost to deformity. He entered his carriage for his flight, with apparently
none to regret his departure, at one o'clock, on the morning of the 19th of
March. The evening of the next day, the 20th, the emperor arrived, and,
surrounded by the acclamations of thousands, was borne, in a scene of
indescribable enthusiasm, on the shoulders of the people into the vacant
palace.

LOUIS XVIII. LEAVING PARIS.
"The moment that the carriage stopped," says Alison, "he was seized by
those next the door, borne aloft in their arms, amidst deafening cheers,
through a dense and brilliant crowd of epaulets, hurried literally above the
heads of the throng up the great staircase into the saloon of reception, where
a splendid array of the ladies of the imperial court, adorned with a profusion
of violet bouquets, half concealed in the richest laces, received him with
transports, and imprinted fervent kisses on his cheeks, his hands, and even
his dress. Never was such a scene witnessed in history."
This triumphal journey of Napoleon for nearly seven
hundred miles, through the heart of France, alone and Signal triumph of
unaided invading a kingdom of thirty millions of Napoleon.
inhabitants, vanquishing all the armies of the Bourbons, and regaining the
throne without drawing a sword or firing a musket, presents one of the most
remarkable instances on record of the power of one mighty mind over
human hearts. Boundless enthusiasm, from citizens and soldiers, greeted
him every step of his way. A more emphatic vote in favor of the Empire
could not have been given. A more legitimate title to the throne no monarch
ever enjoyed. And yet the Allies, in renewing the war against him, had the
unblushing effrontery to proclaim that they were contending for the liberties
of the people against the tyranny of an usurper! In view of such
achievements of Napoleon, we do not wonder that Lamartine, his
unrelenting political foe, should say that, as a man, "Napoleon was the
greatest of the creations of God."
"The emperor, notwithstanding the Bourbons had set a
price upon his head, issued special orders that they Retirement of the
should not be molested; that they should be permitted to Bourbons.
retire without injury or insult. He could, with perfect ease, have taken them
prisoners, and then, in possession of their persons, could have compelled
the Allies to reasonable terms. But his extraordinary magnanimity
prevented him from pursuing such a course. Louis XVIII., accompanied by
a funeral procession of carriages containing members of his family, his
ministers, and returned emigrants, trembling and in dismay, retired to Lille,
on the northern frontiers of France. The inhabitants of the departments
through which he passed gazed silently and compassionately upon the

infirm old man, and uttered no word of reproach; but as soon as the cortége
had passed, the tri-colored banner was run up on steeple and turret, and the
air resounded with shouts of Vive l'Empereur."[Q]

NAPOLEON ENTERING THE TUILERIES.
Immediately Napoleon dispatched by telegraph the following order
throughout France: "The emperor having entered Paris at the head of the
very troops that were sent to oppose him, the civil and military authorities
are hereby cautioned against obeying any other than the imperial orders,
and are enjoined, under the last penalty of military law, to hoist the tri-
colored flag upon the receipt of this intelligence."
Regardless of this order, the Duke of Orleans, in the
north of France, made very great efforts, by visiting all Efforts of the Duke
of Orleans.
the posts, to inspire the soldiers to fidelity to the
Bourbons, and to rouse them to oppose the emperor. "Finding," says a
writer, who was in sympathy with his efforts, "his great exertions as
fruitless as the assaults of the winds upon the mountain's rocky ridge, he at
length abandoned the project. The conduct of Louis XVIII. was but little
calculated to inspire his subjects with respect, or to restore their fading
fidelity. Having reached Lille on the 22d, on the next day he fled, with

indecent haste, towards the frontier, not remaining long enough, even if his
faculties had been sufficiently collected to do so, to give final or further
instructions to the lieutenant-general. Terror of Napoleon occupied his
every thought; and the wings of the wind were unequal to keep pace with
the eagerness of his mind to escape from the iron grasp of the mortal enemy
of his race. Louis Philippe had lent the protection and encouragement of
companionship to his majesty to a distance of five miles from Lille; yet the
timid monarch never delivered to him any instructions or command as to
the operations of the army, nor confessed his future project."[R]
The Duke of Orleans was annoyed and irritated by the
pusillanimity displayed by the king, and by the Dejection of the
Duke of Orleans.
mortifying reserve with which he himself was treated.
He called upon the commandants of the different towns, and informed them
that the king had left France without giving him any authority to act. He
then issued a public proclamation, in which he resigned his entire command
to Marshal Mortier. In this he said:
"I go to bury myself in retirement and oblivion. The king being no longer in
France, I can not transmit you any further orders in his name; and it only
remains for me to release you from the observation of all the orders which I
have already transmitted to you, and to recommend you to do every thing
that your excellent judgment and pure patriotism will suggest to you.
Farewell, my dear marshal. My heart is oppressed in writing this word."
On the 22d Louis Philippe broke up his establishment at head-quarters, and
set out to rejoin his family in England. He had but little hope then of ever
again revisiting France. His sufferings must indeed have been agonizing in
finding all his newly-born hopes vanishing, and in again entering upon the
weary life of an exile. Arriving in England, he directed his steps to the
beautiful and sequestered retreat of Twickenham. It was a hallowed spot,
endeared to him by the memory of days of tranquillity and of a pensive joy,
and by scenes of heart-rending anguish, as he had there seen his two
beloved brothers sinking sadly into the grave.
"The triumph of legitimacy," says Mr. Wright, "which
dethroned Napoleon," inspired its followers in foreign Calumnies of the
journals.
lands with new zeal, fresh devotion, and increased

prospects of ascendency. In England the most servile of that faction had the
malignity to invent and publish, by means of the dishonest portion of the
daily press, the grossest and most painful calumnies against the Duke of
Orleans. The Bourbon faction, expert at calumny and intrigue, employed
every means their art supplied to accomplish their darling object, which was
the still further separation of the elder from the younger branch of the royal
family. It was now that the persecutors of the Duke of Orleans hit upon the
scheme of defaming him by forgery. They forged various protestations and
confessions of faith, which they subscribed with the name of Louis
Philippe, and procured their publication in English journals; "the tendency
of which was to place him in a false position with respect to the elder
branch of his family."
The hundred days of Napoleon's second reign passed
rapidly away. The defeat at Waterloo restored Louis Return of the
Bourbons to Paris.
XVIII. to the throne, with a better prospect of its
permanent possession. Napoleon, in the long agony at St. Helena, expiated
the crime of raising the banner of Equal Rights for All Men, in opposition to
the exclusive privileges of kings and nobles. Louis XVIII., escorted by
nearly a million of foreign troops, returned to the Tuileries. All the members
of the royal family followed from their wide dispersion. Louis Philippe
joined the crowd, and again presented himself in the royal saloons. The king
suspected him, and in the presence of a full court received him with marked
coldness. Conscious of his own unpopularity, and of the general impression
that the Duke of Orleans was tinctured with liberal sentiments, the king was
ever apprehensive that a faction might arise in favor of placing the Duke of
Orleans upon the throne.
The shrewd, intriguing Fouché, duke of Otranto, in a letter written to the
Duke of Wellington at this time, says:
"The personal qualities of the Duke of Orleans, the remembrance of
Jemappes, the possibility of making a treaty which would conciliate all
interests, the name of Bourbon, which might serve outside, but not be
pronounced within—all these motives, and many others that might be
mentioned, present in this last choice a perspective of repose and security
even to those who could not perceive in them an omen of happiness."

Though the king declined the assistance of the Duke of
Orleans in reorganizing his government, he restored to The duke's
him his vast ancestral possessions. Recrossing the possessions
restored.
Channel, the duke conducted his family from The duke returns to
Twickenham back to the sumptuous saloons of the Palais the Palais Royal.
Royal. A royal ordinance commanded all the princes of
the blood royal to take seats in the Chamber of Peers. Under this decree the
Duke of Orleans became a member of that august and influential body.
And now commenced the reign of what was called the Terreur Blanche, or
White Terror, consisting of a series of proscriptions and bloody executions,
under the white flag of the Bourbons, which shocked the spirit of humanity.
Unrelenting revenge was dominant. Marshal Ney, General Labedoyere, and
many others of the noblest men in France, were ere long put to death or
driven into exile. The friends of Louis XVIII. in the Chamber of Peers
urged on these merciless executions. A resolution was introduced into that
body and strongly supported, calling for the exemplary chastisement of all
political delinquents. There were a few who indignantly repudiated this
revengeful spirit.
The Duke of Orleans ascended the tribune. His person was but little known
by the majority of those present. As the son of Egalité, and as one suspected
of liberal principles, he was hated by the returned emigrants of the old
Bourbon party. As he took his stand in the tribune there was breathless
silence throughout the whole assembly. Every eye was fixed upon him. His
majestic figure, his fine countenance, intellectual, thoughtful, upon which
there remained the traces of many sufferings, his calm, dignified, self-
possessed bearing, and his exalted rank as a prince of the royal line, created
profound sentiments of respect. For a moment he looked upon the assembly
in silence. Then in slow, solemn, decisive terms he remonstrated against the
malevolent spirit which was being developed.
"I propose," said he, "the total suppression of the
obnoxious clause. Let us leave to his majesty's parental Humanity of the
Duke of Orleans.
care the charge of maintaining public order. Let us not
urge a revengeful spirit which malevolence may convert into a weapon for
disturbing the peace of the nation. Our position as judges of appeal over
those very individuals to whom you recommend the exercise of severity,

rather than of mercy, should impose absolute silence upon us in respect to
them."
These just and noble sentiments the majority applauded, and the vote was
carried in behalf of humanity. But the king and his coterie were very angry,
and assailed the duke in the most violent terms of condemnation. The king,
in a petty spirit of revenge, issued a decree, recalling the ordinance that all
the princes of the blood royal were to sit in the Chamber of Peers, and
declaring that none in future were to appear there but by special authority of
the king, delivered at each particular sitting.
This was intended as a deliberate insult to the Duke of
Orleans, to exclude him from the Chamber of Peers, and The duke
to degrade him in the eyes of the partisans of the king. persecuted
court.
by the

This pitiful spirit of persecution greatly increased the
general popularity of the duke, which led to a redoubled clamor of calumny
on the part of his opponents. He was accused of seeking to rally around him
the malcontents, of courting the favor of the populace, and of trying to
organize an Orleans faction in his interests.

MARSHAL NEY.
The clamor was so loud and so annoying, and the duke found himself so
entirely excluded from the sympathies of the court and of the dominant
nobles, that, to escape from the storm, he imposed upon himself voluntary
exile, and again, forsaking France, sought refuge with his family in his
English retreat at Twickenham.
The annoying report was circulated, that the duke was banished by an
indignant decree of the king, which, out of regard to the duke's feelings, he
had not made public. Louis Philippe was fully conscious of the great
unpopularity of the elder branch of the Bourbons, and of the feeble tenure
by which they held their power, sustained against the popular will by the
bayonets of the Allies.

The duke had hardly arrived at Twickenham ere he
received an affecting letter from the wife of Marshal Execution of
Marshal Ney.
Ney, entreating him to intercede with the Prince Regent
of England for the life of her noble husband, then in prison awaiting the
almost certain doom of death. The duke did plead for him in the most
earnest terms; but his efforts were unavailing. Thus one of the most
illustrious of the sons of France, "the bravest of the brave," was led out into
the garden of the Luxembourg and shot down like a dog. Marshal Ney had
fought a hundred battles for France, not one against her. His crime was,
that, having accepted command under the Bourbons, he had been guilty of
treason in deserting his standard, and had welcomed back the emperor,
whom he had served in so many battles, and whom he so dearly loved. By
the capitulation of Paris it was expressly declared that "no person should be
molested for his political opinions or conduct during the Hundred Days;"
but the Allies paid no regard to their plighted faith.[S]
One important object of Louis Philippe, in withdrawing
from France, was to avoid the embarrassment of being Again an exile.
brought forward in opposition to the king, and in being
made the head of the Liberal party. This refusal to identify himself with any
democratic movement rendered him very popular with the English Court, a
popularity increased by England's adoration of exalted rank and princely
fortune. The duke was received, in palace and castle, with splendid
hospitality, which he frequently eclipsed in the brilliant entertainments
which he in return gave at Twickenham.
The duke now devoted himself, in his voluntary exile, to the administration
of his sumptuous household, and to the rearing of his rapidly increasing
family, abstaining entirely from all participation in the politics and intrigues
of Paris. His mansion was ever thronged with distinguished guests, and
multitudes, ruined by the storms which had swept over their several lands,
frequented his saloons, seeking pecuniary aid. The applicants were so
numerous and the claims so complicated, that the duke found it necessary to
establish a bureau of charity to examine these claims and to disburse his
bounty.
In 1817 the duke returned to France, and divided his time between the
Palais Royal and his magnificent rural retreat at Neuilly. Wealth, rank, and

hospitality will always draw a crowd. The duke lived, as it were, in a small
but brilliant court of his own. He seldom appeared in the court of Louis
XVIII., and took no part in public affairs. Much of his time was devoted to
superintending the education of his very interesting group of children.
Madame de Genlis gives the following description of this ducal family:
"I continued to pay my respects to Mademoiselle
d'Orleans, who is still as kind and affectionate towards Testimony of
Madame de Genlis.
me as ever. I saw the young Prince de Joinville, who was
only two years old, but who spoke as distinctly as a child of six or seven.
He was also as polite as he was handsome and intelligent. In fact, the whole
family of the Duke of Orleans is truly the most interesting I ever knew. The
members of it are charming by their personal attractions, their natural
qualities and education, and by the reciprocal attachment of parents and
children."[T]
But again the duke incurred the displeasure of the court.
Anxious that his sons should derive the benefit of free The princes in the
national lyceums.
intercourse with the world, he decided to place them, for Democratic
the completion of their education, in the national tendencies of the
duke.
lyceums. Here they were on a level with other boys, and
could only secure distinction by merit. The court, however, and the old
nobility, deemed it gross contamination for princes of the blood royal to
associate with the children of citizens, and they regarded the measure as
merely another attempt on the part of the Duke of Orleans to secure the
favor of the populace. Even the king himself remonstrated with the duke
upon the impropriety of his course. But the duke reminded his majesty that
their illustrious ancestor, Henry IV., had been thus brought up, having been
sent by his mother to the public school in Berne.
One of the Paris journals, commenting upon this republican measure of the
duke, wrote: "Already has the Duke of Chartres, the eldest son of the Duke
of Orleans, entered a college in Paris; a natural thing, it may be said,
provided he is only old enough to comprehend the course of study. Princes
have not hitherto been seen in public colleges since princes and colleges
were in existence; and this noble youth is the first who has been educated in
this manner.

"What would that great king Louis the Superb say—he who could not
tolerate the idea even of his illegitimate children being confounded with the
nobility of the kingdom, such was his sensitiveness in view of the
degradation of the blood royal—if he beheld his grand-nephew, without
page or Jesuit, at a public school, mixing with the common herd of the
human race, and disputing with them for prizes, sometimes conquered,
sometimes conqueror!"

Chapter VI.

The Death of Louis XVIII., and
Reign of Charles X.
1816-1830

W e have alluded to the Duke de Berri, the second son of Count d'Artois.
As he became the father of Count de Chambord, the present
Legitimist claimant of the throne of France, his career calls for more minute
mention.
On the 28th of March, 1816, the French people were
informed, by an announcement to both of the Chambers, Marriage of the
Duke de Berri.
that the young Duke de Berri was about to enter into a
matrimonial alliance with Caroline Mary, eldest daughter of the heir to the
crown of Naples. Caroline Mary was the niece of the Duchess of Orleans,
being the child of her brother. The Chambers, in token of their satisfaction,
voted the Duke de Berri a nuptial gift amounting to three hundred thousand
dollars. The duke manifested his generous character, and won great
popularity, by accepting the gift only upon condition that he might be
allowed to distribute the sum among the poor in the provinces, who were
then suffering severely from famine.
The marriage proved a happy one, until death sundered
the tie. Caroline Mary, who thus became the Duchess de Family of the Duke
de Berri.
Berri, was of sylph-like grace of figure, beautiful in
features, and by her affable manners and unaffected amiability won all
hearts. Four years glided swiftly away. Two children were born, a son and a
daughter; both died in infancy. A third child proved to be a daughter. As, by
an ancient law of the realm, daughters were not eligible to the throne of
France, there was great anxiety felt throughout the kingdom. Unless a
prince were born, there would be a failure in the direct line of succession,
and civil war might be the result. On the 13th of February, the duke and
duchess attended the opera. The duchess was expecting soon again to be a
mother. By the sudden opening of a door, she was unexpectedly struck in

the side with violence, which caused her some alarm, and she expressed the
wish to return home.
The duke led her to her carriage. She took her seat in it,
saying to him with a smile, "Adieu; we shall soon meet Assassination of the
Duke de Berri.
again." As the duke was returning to the opera, an
assassin, by the name of Louvel, who had been lying in wait for him, sprang
from the darkness of a projecting wall, and seizing the duke by the shoulder
with one hand, with the other plunged a dagger to the hilt in his side. It was
the deed of an instant, and the assassin, in the darkness, fled, leaving the
dagger in the side of the victim.
The footman was just closing the door of the carriage of the duchess when
she heard her husband cry out, "I am assassinated! I am dead! I have the
poniard! That man has killed me!" With a shriek, the duchess sprang from
her carriage and clasped her husband in her arms, as the gushing blood
followed the dagger which he drew from the wound.
"I am dead!" exclaimed the duke. "Send for a priest. Come, dearest, let me
die in your arms!"

ASSASSINATION OF THE DUKE DE BERRI.
The dying man was conveyed to an adjoining room, and
The dying scene.
medical attendance was summoned. Nothing could

staunch the gushing blood, and life was rapidly ebbing away. The duke was
informed that the assassin was arrested. "Alas!" he said, "how cruel it is to
die by the hands of a Frenchman!" Overhearing some one say to the almost
distracted duchess that he hoped the wound would not prove fatal, the duke
replied, "No; I am not deceived; the poniard has entered to the hilt." His
sight became dim, and he inquired, "Caroline, are you there?" "Yes," she
answered, "and I will never leave you."
His father's confessor, the Bishop of Chartres, entered, and the dying man
had a few moments of private conversation with the ecclesiastic. He then
called for his infant daughter. She was brought to him, asleep, for it was
near midnight. Placing his hand upon her head, he said, "Poor child! may
you be less unfortunate than the rest of your family."
The wound ceased to bleed externally, and its inward flow threatened
suffocation. The duke's physician, M. Boujou, endeavored to restore
circulation by sucking the wound. "What are you doing?" exclaimed the
duke. "For God's sake stop! Perhaps the poniard was poisoned." Respiration
was now very difficult, and the hand of the duke was clammy with the
damp of death. As a last resort, the surgeon, with his knife, opened and
enlarged the wound. The duke, grasping the hand of the duchess, patiently
bore the painful operation, and then said, "Spare me further pain."
Turning to his wife, whom he tenderly loved, he said, "Caroline, take care
of yourself for the sake of our infant, which you bear in your bosom."
The duke and the duchess of Orleans, being immediately
summoned, were the first of the relatives to arrive in this Assembling of the
chamber of death. They were speedily followed by the royal family.
Count d'Artois, the father of the sufferer, and by the Duke d'Angoulême, his
elder brother. Other members of the royal family soon arrived. In the feeble
accents of approaching death, the duke inquired,
"Who is the man who has killed me? I wish I could see him, to inquire into
his motives. Perhaps it is some one whom I have unconsciously offended.
Would that I might live long enough to ask the king to pardon him. Promise
me, my father, promise me, my brother, to ask of the king the life of that
man."

Another touching scene, of a very delicate nature, which I can not refrain
from recording occurred in this solemn hour. It was manifest to the duke, as
well as to all of his friends, that before the hour should expire the spirit of
the dying would pass to the tribunal of that God in whose presence both
prince and peasant are alike. The memory of all past sins, in such an hour,
often crowds the soul with its tumultuous array. In whispering tones,
inaudible to others, a few words were interchanged between the dying man
and his wife. Then two illegitimate children, who were born to the duke
when he was an exile in London, were brought in. It seems that he had ever
recognized them as his own, and that they had been protected and fostered
by both himself and his lawful wife.
As these children entered the chamber, and knelt, sobbing convulsively, at
their father's dying bed, the duke embraced them tenderly, and, turning his
fading eye to his wife, said,
"I know you sufficiently, Caroline, to be assured that, after me, you will
take care of these orphans."
The duchess responded in an action far more impressive
than words. Taking her own babe into her arms from its Noble conduct of
the Duchess de
nurse, she drew the unfortunate children to her bosom, Berri.
and said, "Kiss your sister." It was a noble deed. All eyes
were suffused in tears. Few can read the simple record without emotion.
The duke then received, from the bishop, absolution, repeatedly attempting
the prayer, "My God, pardon me, pardon me; and pardon the man who has
taken my life!"
Just then the king, Louis XVIII., who was very infirm, arrived. "My uncle,"
said the dying man, "give me your hand, that I may kiss it for the last time. I
entreat you, in the name of my death, to spare the life of that man."
The king replied, "You are not so ill as you suppose. We will speak of this
again."
"Ah!" exclaimed the duke, "you do not say yes. The pardon of that man
would have softened my last moments, if I could die with the assurance that
his blood would not flow after my death."

These were his last words. There was a slight gasping, a
convulsive shuddering passed over his frame, and the Death and burial.
spirit of the duke took its flight to the judgment-seat of
Christ. The remains were conveyed, with much funereal pageantry, to the
vaults of St. Denis, the ancient mausoleum of the kings of France. Louvel, a
miserable fanatic, who sought notoriety by the murder of a prince, expiated
his crime upon the scaffold.
Seven months after this assassination, on the 20th of September, 1820, the
Duchess de Berri gave birth to a son. He was christened Henry, duke of
Bordeaux. He is now known as the Count de Chambord, the Legitimist
candidate for the throne of France. Indeed the Legitimists regard him as
their lawful sovereign, though in exile, and give him the title of Henry V.
Louis XVIII. retained the throne, upon which the Allies had placed him, for
eight years, until his death. He was a good-natured, kind-hearted old man,
but so infirm from gout and excessive obesity, that he could with difficulty
walk, and he was wheeled around his saloons in a chair. Lamartine, whose
poetic nature ever bowed almost with adoration before hereditary royalty,
gives the following pleasing account of his character:
"His natural talent, cultivated, reflective, and quick, full
of recollections, rich in anecdotes, nourished by Character of Louis
philosophy, enriched by quotations, never deformed by XVIII.
pedantry, rendered him equal, in conversation to the most renowned literary
characters of his age. M. De Chateaubriand had not more elegance, M. De
Talleyrand more wit, Madame De Staël more brilliancy. Since the suppers
of Potsdam, where the genius of Voltaire met the capacity of Frederick the
Great, never had the cabinet of a prince been the sanctuary of more
philosophy, literature, talent, and taste."
To this it should be added that he was devoted to the
interests of the aristocracy; that his mind was almost DeathXVIII.
of Louis

exclusively occupied in making happy hits in
conversation, and in writing graceful billet-doux; that the priests and the
nobles controlled him through the all-persuasive influence of the fascinating
Madame Du Cayla. He died on the 16th of September, 1824. As his last
hour approached, and his extremities became cold, and it was manifest that

he had but a few moments to live, his mind remained clear and composed.
Assuming a cheerful air, he said to his family, gathered around his bed:
"A king of France may die, but he is never ill. Love each other, and thus
console yourselves for the disasters of our house. Providence has replaced
us upon the throne."
He then received extreme unction, bade adieu to all, and, ordering the
curtains of his bed to be closed, composed himself as for ordinary sleep.
With the earliest dawn of the morning the chief physician opened the
curtains, and found that his pulse was just ceasing to beat. In a few
moments he breathed his last. In accordance with court etiquette the
physician said, solemnly, "The king is dead." Then, turning to the king's
brother, Charles, previously known as the Count d'Artois, he bowed and
said, "Long live the king."
Charles X., into whose hands the sceptre thus passed,
was then in the sixty-seventh year of his age—having Charles X. and
been born in Versailles, October 9, 1757. This family.
unfortunate monarch is represented, by his friends, as having been one of
the most accomplished of men. His horsemanship attracted universal
admiration. In all social circles he charmed every one who approached him
by his grace and courtesy. He was warm-hearted and generous. Though in
early life a man of pleasure, he had become quite a devotee; and, to an
extraordinary degree, was under the influence of the priesthood. Leaving
the affairs of State in the hands of others, he gave his time, his thoughts, his
energies, to the pleasures of the chase. This pursuit became, not his
recreation, but the serious occupation of his life.
Charles was the father of two sons. The eldest, and consequently the heir to
the crown, was the Duke d'Angoulême. He had married the daughter of
Louis XVI., whose sufferings, with her brother, the dauphin, in the Temple,
have moved the sympathies of the whole civilized world. The duke and
duchess were childless, and with no hope of offspring.
His second son, the Duke de Berri, had been assassinated, as we have
mentioned, about four years before, as he was coming from the opera,
leaving his wife enciente. In the course of a few months she gave birth to a
son—the Duke of Bordeaux. This child—now called Count de Chambord—

was the legitimate heir to the throne, next to his uncle, the Duke
d'Angoulême.
Six years of the reign of Charles X. passed away, during which the
discontent of the people was continually making itself increasingly
manifest. They regarded the Government as false to the claims of the
masses, and devoted only to the interests of the aristocracy.
The spirit of discontent which had long been brooding
now rose in loud and angry clamor everywhere around Ball at the Palais
the throne. The court was blind to its peril; but Royal.
thoughtful men perceived that the elements for a moral earthquake were fast
accumulating. In the midst of these hourly increasing perils, the Duke of
Orleans, on the 31st of May, 1830, gave a ball at the Palais Royal in honor
of his father-in-law, the King of Naples. This festival was of such splendor
as to astonish even splendor-loving Paris, and was long remembered as one
of the most brilliant entertainments the metropolis had ever witnessed. The
immense fortune of the duke, his refined taste, and the grandeur of the
saloons of his ancestral palace, enabled him almost to outvie royalty itself
in the brilliance of the fête.
Vast amphitheatres bloomed with flowers in Eden-like profusion. The
immense colonnades of the Palais Royal were crowded with orange-trees,
whose opening buds filled the air with fragrance, and whose clusters of
golden fruit enhanced the beauty of the scene. The spacious roofs and
rotundas of glass sparkled with thousands of wax-lights, creating a
spectacle so gorgeous and glittering that even those who were accustomed
to royal splendor were reminded of the enchanter's palace in Oriental fable.
The marriage of the Duke de Berri, the son of Charles X. with Caroline
Mary, niece of the Duchess of Orleans, had produced some reconciliation
between the Bourbon and the Orleans branches of the royal family. The
king and his family this evening, for the first time, in regal state visited the
Palais Royal. As the duke was receiving the congratulations of his guests
upon the marvellous splendor which the palace presented, thronged with
courtiers sparkling with jewels and decorated with all the costly and
glittering costumes of the old régime, one of the guests, M. Salvandy,
shrewdly observed to the duke,

"It is, indeed, quite a Neapolitan fête, your highness, for we dance upon a
volcano."
The duke with some emotion replied, "That there is a
volcano here I believe as firmly as you do. But I know Striking remarks of
the Duke of
that the fault is not mine. I shall not have any occasion, Orleans.
hereafter, to reproach myself for not having endeavored
to open the eyes of the king. But what could be expected when nothing is
listened to? God only knows where all this will end—I certainly do not
foresee what is about to happen. I can not tell where all those who are
producing this state of things will be in six months hence; but one thing I do
know, which is, where I shall be myself.
"Under all circumstances or changes which may occur, my family and
myself will remain in this palace. This is our throne. Whatever may be the
peril of so doing, I shall not move from the home of my fathers. I shall
never again consent to separate the fate and fortune of myself and children
from those of my country. This is my unchangeable determination."
One of the saloons contained two very fine paintings of Montmiral and
Champ-Aubert, two towns in France in which Napoleon, heroically
struggling against dynastic Europe combined in arms against him, signally
defeated and drove back the Allies. The duke, being asked why he allowed
paintings commemorative of the victories of the Empire to hang upon his
walls, replied, "Because I like every thing French."
Soon after this the popular complaints against the crown
became so general, so bitter, and the excitement so great, Complaints against
the crown.
that the king, by the advice of the ministers who
governed him, issued several ordinances which were regarded by the people
as so despotic, as so subversive of all popular rights, as to call for resistance
by insurrection and the force of arms.
The first of these famous ordinances suspended the
liberty of the press, and prohibited the publication of any The fatal
ordinances.
journals excepting such as were authorized by the
Government.

The second dissolved the new Chamber of Deputies, or Legislature,
because the members were too liberal in their political opinions, assuming
that the electors had been deceived by the popular clamor, and had chosen
such persons as they ought not to have chosen.
The third reduced the number of deputies from three hundred and ninety-
five to two hundred and twenty-eight, and so altered the electoral franchise,
in order to secure the return of members favorable to the Government, as to
deprive a large number of the right of suffrage who had heretofore
exercised it.
Such, in brief, were the ordinances which overthrew the throne of Charles
X. and drove the elder branch of the Bourbons into exile. There were others
issued at the same time, but which were of no material importance.
Frivolous as was the character of Charles X., he had sagacity enough to
know that such decrees could not be issued in France without creating
intense agitation. His ministers also, though the advocates of the despotic
principles of the old régime, were men of ability. They recognized the
measures as desperate. Popular discontent had reached such a crisis that it
was necessary either to silence it by despotic power or yield to it,
introducing reforms which would deprive the ministers of their places.
Prince Polignac was at this time prime minister. His
mother had been the bosom-friend of Maria Antoinette. Character of the
ministry.
Through his whole life he was the unswerving friend of
the Bourbons. Implicated in the plot of Georges for the overthrow of the
First Consul, he was condemned to death. Napoleon spared his life, and
finally liberated him, upon which he followed Count d'Artois (Charles X.)
into exile. Returning with the Bourbons, in the rear of the Allied armies, he
was rewarded for his life-long fidelity to the ancient régime by the highest
honors.
The sorrows of life had left their impress upon his pensive features. He was
well-read, very decided in his views that the people were made to be
governed, not to govern. He was energetic, but possessed of so little
worldly wisdom that he thought that the people, however much
exasperated, could be easily subdued by determined action.

M. de la Bourdonnaye, Minister of the Interior, like Polignac, was an ultra
Royalist. He had been one of the most violent of the Vendéans in their
opposition to the Revolution, and is represented, even by those who were in
sympathy with him, as wishing to govern by a royalist reign of terror.
M. de Bourmont, Minister of War, had been a staunch
Royalist in the days of the Revolution, struggling with M. de Bourmont.
the Vendéans in defense of the monarchy. Upon the
establishment of the Empire he gave his adhesion to Napoleon. Being a man
of ability, he was placed in responsible posts. At Waterloo, upon the eve of
the great struggle, he deserted to the Allies, carrying as his peace-offering
the betrayal of the emperor's plan of campaign. It is supposed that his
testimony against Marshal Ney sealed the fate of that illustrious man. The
French people had not forgotten his defection at Waterloo, and he was
exceedingly unpopular.
These were the prominent ministers. The other members of the cabinet,
though men of ability, were not of historic note. The original appointment
of these ministers, whose opinions were so obnoxious and well known, had
caused great indignation. The liberal press assailed them with vehemence.
The Journal des Débats, after announcing the names of the ministers,
exclaimed:
"The emigration of M. de Polignac, the fury of proscription of M. de la
Bourdonnaye, desertion to the enemy in M. de Bourmont—such are the
three principles in the three leading persons of the administration. Press
upon it. Nothing but humiliation, misfortune, and danger will drive it from
power."
M. Guizot was then editor of the journal Le Temps. He had already attained
renown. His weighty editorials, distinguished alike for cogent argument and
depth of philosophical thought, carried conviction to the most intelligent
minds. M. Thiers was editor of the Nationale. His great abilities, already
developed in his "History of the French Revolution," had given him a
commanding position among the journalists on the liberal side. Both of
these distinguished writers, and many others, assailed the ministry with
such popular effect, that it was clear that their utterances must be silenced,
or the ministry must fall. Hence the Ordinances were issued.

The scene at the signing of these ordinances is
represented by Lamartine as quite dramatic. The Dramatic scene.
important measure of the coup d'état was anxiously
discussed under the pledge of secrecy. The project of the ministers was
cordially approved by the king. He is reported to have said:
"It is not the ministry, it is the crown, which is attacked. It is the cause of
the throne against revolution which is at issue. One or the other must
succumb. I recollect what occurred in 1789. The first step my unhappy
brother, Louis XVI., made in retreat before the revolutionists was the signal
of his ruin. They, too, pretended fidelity to the crown, and demanded only
the dismissal of its ministers. He yielded, and all was lost. Gentlemen, I will
not dismiss you. No! Let them conduct us, if they please, to the scaffold.
But let us fight for our rights; and if we are to fall, fall sword in hand. I had
rather be led to execution on horseback than in a cart."
On the morning of the 25th of July, 1830, the king and
his ministers met at the palace of St. Cloud to sign the Charles X. and his
ministers.
fatal ordinances. They all seem to have been in some
degree aware of the peril of the step. Many of them had passed a sleepless
night, and were deeply impressed with the solemnity of the occasion. They
sat pale, silent, anxious, as Prince Polignac slowly read the ordinances and
presented them to the king for his signature. Charles X. took the pen, turned
pale, and for a moment hesitated. Then raising his eyes to heaven, as if
imploring Divine aid, he said, "The more I think of it, the more I am
convinced that it is impossible to do otherwise than I do." With these words
he affixed his signature to the document which expelled him and his
dynasty from France.[U]
The ministers, one after another, countersigned the
ordinances. Not a word was spoken. "Despair," says Their unanimity.
Alison, "was painted on every visage." Polignac, in the
temporary absence of M. Bourmont, was acting Minister of War. In reply to
the inquiry what means of resistance the Government had in case of
insurrection, he replied, with confidence equal to his self-deception,
"No popular movement is to be apprehended. At all events, Paris is
sufficiently garrisoned to crush any rebellion and guarantee public

tranquillity."
The force upon which Polignac relied consisted of
11,550 men in Paris, with twelve pieces of cannon. The antagonistic
forces.
There were also fifteen battalions of infantry and thirty-
four squadrons of cavalry stationed in towns not far distant, which could be
rapidly collected to aid the troops within the walls. On the other hand, the
city of Paris, in a general insurrection, could furnish 200,000 fighting men.
Many of these had seen actual service. There was a National Guard, the
militia of the metropolis, organized and well armed, consisting of 40,000
men. A portion of the royal troops, also, could not be relied upon in a
struggle with the people. General Marmont, one of the marshals of the
Empire, was in command of the Royalist troops. He was exceedingly
unpopular in Paris, in consequence of the feeble defense it was thought he
made when the city was captured by the Allies.
The ordinances were secretly printed, and during the
night of the 25th were placarded on the walls of Paris. Issuing the
They also appeared simultaneously the next morning in ordinances.
the Moniteur. Though some of the more sagacious had been suspecting that
the Government might resort to measures of desperation, these ordinances
took the whole community by surprise. Crowds gathered in the coffee-
houses, at the doors of the public journals, and in all the prominent places
of resort. There was no sudden ebullition of indignation, and no immediate
demonstrations of violence. The event had come so suddenly that the
masses were unprepared for action, and the leaders required time to decide
whether it were best to attempt forcible resistance, and, if so, what measures
to that end could most effectually be adopted. Though throughout the day
no insurrectionary movements appeared, still agitation was rapidly on the
increase, and Paris represented a bee-hive into which some disturbing
element had been cast.
The editors of the leading journals, and several others of
the most illustrious advocates of liberal opinions, held a Risings of
opposition.
consultation upon the state of affairs. But night came,
and the result of their deliberations was not made known. The day had been
serene and beautiful, inviting all the population of Paris into the streets. The
balmy summer night kept them there. Innumerable rumors increased the

excitement, and it was evident that a few words from influential lips would
create an insurrection, which might amount to a revolution.
The gentlemen who had met in conference—forty-four in number—after
careful deliberation, and having obtained the opinion of the most celebrated
lawyers that the ordinances were illegal, gallantly resolved to resist them at
the hazard of their lives. They accordingly issued a protest, to which each
one affixed his signature. The boldness of the act commanded the
admiration even of the advocates of arbitrary power. In their protest they
said:
"The Government has lost the character of legality which commands
obedience. We resist it in so far as we are concerned. It is for France to
determine how far resistance should extend."
The liberal journals refused to take out the license the
ordinances required. This act of defiance the Silencing journals.
the

Government met by sending the police to seize the
journals and close their printing-offices. A commissary of police, with two
gendarmes, repaired to the office of the Temps, edited by M. Guizot, in the
Boulevard des Italiens. They found the doors barred against them. A
blacksmith was sent for to force the entrance. This collected a crowd, and
he refused to act in obedience to the police. A second blacksmith was sent
for. As he commenced operations the crowd took his tools from him. At
length, however, an entrance was effected, and a seal was put upon the
printing-presses. This scene, occurring in one of the most populous
thoroughfares of Paris, created intense agitation. Still, thus far, there had
been so little commotion that the king and his ministers were quite sanguine
that their measures would prove triumphant. Charles X. was so infatuated
that on that morning—the 26th—he went to Rambouillet, and spent the day
in hunting.
During the night of the 26th there was another very important meeting of
the leaders of the liberal party at the mansion of M. Casimir Périer. About
thirty were present. Nearly all were members of the Chamber of Deputies,
and in intellectual strength were among the most illustrious men in France.
Anxiously, yet firmly, they discussed the course to be pursued. It was a
fearful question to decide. Submission placed France, bound helplessly

hand and foot, under the heel of Bourbon despotism. Unsuccessful
insurrection would consign them either to life-long imprisonment in the
dungeon or to death upon the scaffold.
All agreed in condemning the ordinances as illegal. The
more cautious hesitated at rousing the energies of Diversity of
counsel.
insurrection, and submitting the issue to the decision of
the sword. The young and impetuous advocated an immediate appeal to
arms. While deliberating, a deputation appeared professing to represent the
electors of Paris, and urged that, as the Government was manifestly
resolved to support the despotic ordinances by force, nothing remained to
the people but to have recourse to insurrection. It was also stated that nearly
all the workmen from the manufactories were in the streets, eager to throw
up barricades and to defend their rights at every hazard.
At the same time committees presented themselves from various bodies of
young men, urging the deputies to take the lead of the patriotic movement
in which the people were resolved to engage. Their solicitations were
intensified by occasional discharges of musketry in the streets, and by the
clatter of iron hoofs, as the king's cavalry here and there made charges to
disperse threatening gatherings, or to prevent the erection of barricades. It
does not, however, appear that any very decisive action was taken by this
body. Late at night it adjourned, to meet again the next day.
The morning of the 27th revealed a scene of turmoil and
agitation such as even excitable Paris had rarely The conflict in
Paris.
witnessed. The king and his court, with twelve hundred
of the troops, withdrawn from the city, were at St. Cloud. Large bodies of
men were surging through the streets, apparently without leaders or definite
object, but ready for any deeds of daring. Every hour of the day affairs were
more menacing. Frequent reports were brought by the police to the
ministers at St. Cloud, which represented that, though business was
generally suspended, and there were agitated crowds in the streets, still no
serious danger was apprehended.
But General Marmont, who was intrusted with the
command of the garrison in Paris, early in the morning Threatening aspect
of affairs.
became alarmed in view of the struggle which he

apprehended was about to commence, and of the inadequate means under
his control to meet it. In counting up his forces he found that he had not
more than ten thousand troops within the walls. Of these not more than four
thousand could be relied upon in a conflict with the people.
Well might General Marmont tremble. From the remote sections and
narrow streets the populace were thronging to central points. The
boulevards, from the Place de la Bastile to the Madeleine, presented a dense
mass, whose angry looks, loud words, and violent gestures indicated that
they would fight with desperation should the struggle once commence.
Many of them were skilled in the use of arms. They knew how to construct
barricades. Every house was a fortress from whose windows and roof the
populace could hurl destruction upon the heads of the troops, wedged in the
narrow streets. And General Marmont had reason to fear that of the small
force under his command six thousand would fraternize with the people
upon the report of the first musket.
The war-worn marshal skillfully arranged his forces, evidently copying the
operations of Napoleon in his famous repulse of the attack of the sections
upon the Convention. Three battalions were placed at the Carrousel, which
might be regarded as a vast fortress in the centre of the city, walled in by the
Tuileries and the Louvre. Three battalions were stationed in the Place de la
Concorde, with two pieces of artillery. Three battalions of the line were
ranged along the boulevards from the Place of the Bastile to the Madeleine.
General Marmont did not wait for an attack to be made upon him. He sent
out detachments to scour the streets and to prevent the erection of
barricades. Reports had reached him that several were in process of
construction in the most narrow streets.
The first barricade encountered was in the Rue St.
Honoré, nearly in front of the Palais Royal. The troops Incidents of the
battle.
endeavored to disperse the defenders by a volley in the
air. As this produced no effect, they opened upon them with a point-blank
discharge, by which several were wounded, and one man was killed. The
other detachments met with no opposition, but removed several barricades,
and dispersed tumultuous gatherings. The agitation was hourly on the
increase. Random shots were heard in different parts of the city. The dead
body of the man shot while defending the barricade was paraded in blood-

stained ghastliness through the streets, exciting frenzied passions. The
troops of the line, so called, who were known to be in sympathy with the
people, and whom General Marmont distrusted, were received with shouts
of applause wherever they appeared.
A vast concourse of the people had assembled in front of
the Palais Royal. A detachment of the line was sent to Fraternization of
the troops and the
guard the palace. The troops and the populace mingled populace.
together, talking and laughing. As the multitude pressed Retreat of the king.
the troops, they opened their ranks and let the living
torrent pass through, amidst loud cheers. Several armorers' shops were
broken open, and it was manifest that vigorous preparations were going on
in anticipation of the struggle of the succeeding day. Still the king, with an
infatuation which is inexplicable, took no measures to add to the military
strength at the disposal of General Marmont. Thus passed the day of the
27th. It seems that at night the king became somewhat alarmed, for at
eleven o'clock he issued an ordinance from his retreat at St. Cloud declaring
Paris to be in a state of siege.
During all the hours of the night of the 27th there reigned the calm which
precedes the storm. The leaders of the Liberal party—among whom were to
be found many of the most intelligent men, the wisest statesmen, and the
most accomplished generals in France—had fully decided to submit their
cause to the arbitrament of battle. Calm deliberation, organization, carefully
matured plans, were requisite to meet the marshalled forces of the
monarchy. It was no longer a mere street insurrection, but a kingdom was to
be revolutionized. Immediately a new and tremendous impulse was secretly
given to the movement. Committees were busy. Agents were active,
invested with authority which the populace instinctively recognized without
inquiring into the source from which it emanated.
With the early light of the next morning—the 28th—the result of the
operations of the night was manifest. In the vicinity of the Place of the
Bastile there is a portion of the city densely populated, called the Faubourg
St. Antoine. It is inhabited by a class in a humble condition of life, who
have ever taken a very prominent part in all the insurrections which have
agitated Paris. Reckless of their own lives as well as of the lives of others,

they have ever been the most desperate and the most dreaded fighters in
every conflict in the streets.
With the morning dawn the faubourg seemed to be
swarming. Guided by some mysterious but common All Paris in arms.
impulse, a huge and disorderly mass—ever increasing—
of maddened men and equally maddened women, armed with swords,
muskets, pickaxes, and every other conceivable weapon of offense or
defense, surged along through the Rue St. Denis and along the crowded
boulevards towards the Place of the Madeleine, which was occupied by the
military. At the same time, at several important points along the boulevards,
the people were busy—men, women, and boys—tearing up the pavements,
seizing and overturning omnibuses and carts, cutting down the trees,
pitching heavy articles of furniture out of the windows of the houses, and
thus constructing barricades.
The points selected and the artistic style of structure
indicated that military genius of a high order guided the Triumph of the
insurgents.
movement. Only a small detachment of troops could be
sent out from the central position at the Tuileries. As they could not be
everywhere, the intrenchments of the populace rose in various parts of the
city, unopposed, with inconceivable rapidity, and with almost military
precision. Large bodies advanced simultaneously to the gunsmiths' shops, to
the police stations and guard-houses, to the arsenal and powder
manufactory, to the artillery dépôt of St. Thomas Aquinas; and the guns,
muskets, and ammunition thus seized were freely distributed to the people.
The National Guard, forty thousand strong, was thoroughly armed. The
ranks of this formidable body were filled with the citizens of Paris, who
were all in sympathy with the insurrection. Many of them appeared in the
streets even in their uniform.
A band of armed men advanced to the Hôtel de Ville,
where but sixteen soldiers were stationed on guard. The Success of the
insurgents.
soldiers, attempting no opposition, withdrew
unmolested. A huge tri-color flag, unfurled from the roof, announced with
the peal of the tocsin that that important post, almost an impregnable citadel
in the hands of determined men, had fallen into the possession of the
people. The tidings swept the streets like a flood, giving a new impulse to

the universal enthusiasm. A few moments after another band burst open the
gates of Nôtre Dame, and another tri-color flag waved in the breeze from
one of its towers; while the bells of the cathedral with their sublime voices
proclaimed to the agitated yet exultant masses the additional triumph. It was
scarcely midday, and yet four-fifths of Paris was in the undisputed
possession of the insurgents, and, as by magic, from twenty spires and
towers the tri-color flag spread its folds in defiance to the banner of the
Bourbons. More than a hundred barricades had been erected, or were in the
process of erection. Behind them stood more than a hundred thousand well-
armed, determined men. With such rapidity and sagacity had all this been
effected that there had been scarcely any collision worthy of notice. A few
charges had been made by the gendarmery in dispersing crowds, and a few
random shots had been fired.
General Marmont, in preparation for assuming the
offensive, concentrated the whole of his little band Tactics of General
Marmont.
around the Tuileries, and constructed for himself a
fortified camp in the Carrousel protected by eight guns. A few troops were
forwarded to him from Vincennes and Versailles, so that he could display
for the defense of that central point thirty-six hundred soldiers of the Guard,
tried men, upon whom he could rely. Six hundred of these were horsemen.
Forming three columns, he sent one along the banks of the river to
recapture the Hôtel de Ville, to demolish all the barricades, and disperse the
armed bands, until they reached the Place of the Bastile. Another was to
advance to the same point by the boulevards. The third was to force its way
through the Rue St. Honoré to the Market of the Innocents. Along these
three lines the battle now raged fiercely, with equal determination on each
side. The scene of tumult, carnage, horror, which ensued can neither be
described nor imagined. The streets were narrow. Every house was a
fortress, from whose windows a deadly fire was poured upon the troops.
The combatants, inflamed by the fury and terror of the strife, neither asked
nor granted quarter. Hour after hour they fought, Frenchmen against
Frenchmen, brother against brother, and the pavements were clotted with
blood. Barricades were taken and retaken. There were triumphant charges
and murderous repulses.

Chapter VII.

Charles X. Dethroned.
1830

N ight came, the night of the 28th of July, 1830. The royal troops, having
really accomplished nothing of any moment in their conflict with the
insurgent people, were ordered to avail themselves of the darkness to retreat
from all the positions they had gained. Thus, before midnight the troops,
virtually defeated, sought refuge in concentrating themselves in their
fortified camp at the Carrousel. It was with no little difficulty that some of
them fought their way back to regain the quarters which they had left.
Two parties must ever co-operate in such scenes as we
are now describing. There must be not only bold men, Progress of the
insurrection.
with arms in their hands, to achieve, but there must be
sagacious men in council to plan and direct. During the day a sort of
provisional government was established by the insurgents, which continued
in session until midnight. The voices of the street cannon had summoned
Lafayette to Paris, and he consecrated his world-wide renown to the cause
of popular rights, for which he had fought in America, and to which he had
been ever true in Europe. M. Lafitte, the wealthiest banker in Paris,
consecrated his fortune to the cause. M. Thiers, never prone to follow any
lead but that of his own vigorous mind, though he had united with other
journalists in recommending resistance, now objected to any resort to
violence, and demanded that the resistance should be legal only. Being
outvoted by his more practical compeers—Lafayette, Lafitte, and Mauguin
—he retired in displeasure, and, abandoning the conflict, took refuge in the
country at some distance from Paris. To his remonstrances Lafayette replied
in language which one would deem convincing to every mind:
"Legal means have been cut short by the ordinances in the Moniteur, and
the discharges of artillery you hear in the streets. Victory can alone now
decide the question."

There was but little sleep for any one in Paris that night.
A population of a million and a half of people, crowded Night of tumult.
in narrow streets, was in a state of the wildest
excitement. The air was filled with rumors of the approaching forces of the
monarchy. The tramp of armed men, the rumbling of the ponderous
enginery of war, the clamor of workmen throwing up barricades, the shouts
of the mob, and often, rising above all, the soul-stirring strains of the
"Marseillaise Hymn," pealed forth from thousands of impassioned lips,
together with the darkness of the night, the flash of torches, the blaze of
bonfires, presented a spectacle sublime beyond comprehension. The
"Marseillaise Hymn" is unquestionably the most powerful composition in
the world, both in its words and its music, to rouse the populace to a frenzy
of enthusiasm. We give below a vigorous translation of the first verse:

Ye sons of France, awake to glory!
The "Marseillaise
Hark! hark! what myriads bid you Hymn."
rise!
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,
Behold their tears and hear their cries!
Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,
While peace and liberty lie bleeding?

(Chorus.) To arms! to arms, ye brave!
Th' avenging sword unsheath!
March on! march on! all hearts resolved
On liberty or death!

But no translation can equal the force of the original.
The king and his courtiers at St. Cloud were struck with
consternation as they received the tidings of the general Consternation of
and successful revolt. The booming of the cannon in the the court.
streets of Paris could be distinctly heard. With his spy-glass, from the
heights behind the chateau, the king could see the tri-color, the
representative of deadly hostility to his dynasty, unfurled from the Hôtel de
Ville and from the towers of Nôtre Dame, and then from more than twenty

other prominent points in the city. At four o'clock in the afternoon a
dispatch from General Marmont informed the king of the desperate state of
affairs. The Royal Guard, composed largely of Swiss mercenaries, had been
faithful to discipline. But the troops of the line, all Frenchmen, had in many
instances refused to fire upon the insurgents.
The fearful and unexpected crisis roused the king to
action. It is said he displayed more of coolness and The royal family.
energy than any of his ministers. Orders were sent to
General Marmont to concentrate his forces as speedily as possible at the
Tuileries. Agents were dispatched to all the divisions of the Royal Guard
garrisoned in the towns in the vicinity of Paris to break camp immediately,
and move with the utmost haste to the capital. The king's eldest son, the
Duke d'Angoulême, of whom we have previously spoken as having married
his cousin, the unhappy but heroic and very noble daughter of Louis XVI.,
was with his father at St. Cloud. The duchess was absent. The widow also
of the king's second son, the Duke de Berri, was at St. Cloud with her two
children, a daughter ten years old, and the little boy, the Duke of Bordeaux
(Count de Chambord), nine years of age. These constituted the royal family.
"While Charles X. thought only of inspiring all around him with his own
fatal security, a bold scheme was concocting, almost before his eyes, in the
apartments of Madame de Gentaul. Convinced of the old monarch's
impotence to defend his dynasty, General Vincent had resolved to save
royalty without the king's co-operation, unknown to the king, and, if
necessary, despite the king. He went to Madame de Gentaul and set forth to
her that, in the existing state of things, the fate of the monarchy depended
upon a heroic resolve, and he therefore proposed to her to take the Duchess
de Berri and her son, the Duke of Bordeaux, to Paris. He suggested that
they should take Neuilly in their way, get hold of the Duke of Orleans, and
oblige him by main force to take part in the hazard of the enterprise. They
should then enter Paris by the faubourgs, and the Duchess de Berri,
exhibiting the royal child to the people, should confide him to the
generosity of the combatants. Madame de Gentaul approved of this scheme.
In spite of its adventurous character, or rather for that very reason, it won
upon the excitable imagination of the Duchess de Berri, and every thing
was arranged for carrying it into execution. But the infidelity of a
confederate put Charles X. in possession of the plot, and it broke down."[V]

The Duke d'Angoulême, called the Dauphin, was a very
respectable man, without any distinguishing character. The Duchess de
His wife, disciplined in the school not merely of sorrow, Berri.
but of such woes as few mortals have ever been called to endure, had
developed a character of truly heroic mould. The Duchess de Berri was
young, beautiful, and fascinating. Her courage, enthusiasm, and love of
adventure, as subsequently displayed in the eyes of all Europe, were
perhaps never surpassed. Every generous heart will cherish emotions of
regret in view of that frailty which has consigned her name to reproach. The
two children of the Duchess de Berri were too young to comprehend the
nature of the events which were transpiring. Even while the bloody strife
was in progress, and the din of the conflict reached their ears, these two
innocent children were amusing themselves in a game in which
Mademoiselle led the rebels, and the Duke of Bordeaux at the head of his
Royal Guard repulsed them.
The cabinet ministers, under the protection of the troops, were in permanent
session at the Tuileries. Prince Polignac, a thoroughly impractical man, who
was at the head of the Government, seems not at all to have comprehended
the true state of affairs. When General Marmont sent him word, on the
evening of the 28th, that the troops of the line were fraternizing with the
people, he is reported to have replied, with extraordinary coolness and
simplicity, "Well, if the troops have gone over to the insurgents, we must
fire upon the troops."
Many of these officers found themselves in a very
painful situation, embarrassed by the apparently Embarrassment of
conflicting claims of duty—fidelity to their sovereign on the officers.
the one hand, and fidelity to the rights of the people on the other. Some, like
General Marmont, remained faithful to their colors, some silently
abandoned their posts, but refused to enter the ranks of the people to fight
against their former comrades; some openly passed over to the people and
aided them in the struggle, thus with certainty forfeiting their own lives
should the royal troops conquer. The following letter from Count de Raoul
to Prince de Polignac, resigning his commission, will give the reader some
idea of the embarrassments with which these honorable men were agitated:

"Monseigneur,—After a day of massacres and disasters,
entered on in defiance of all laws, divine and human, Resignation of
and in which I have taken part only from respect to Count de Raoul.
human considerations, for which I reproach myself, my conscience
imperiously forbids me to serve a moment longer. I have given, in the
course of my life, proofs sufficiently numerous of my devotion to the king,
to warrant me, without exposing my intentions to unjust suspicions, to draw
a distinction between what emanates from him and the atrocities which are
committed in his name. I have the honor to request, monseigneur, that you
will lay before the king my resignation of my commission as captain of his
guard."
In the confusion of those hours it appears that this letter did not reach its
destination. M. Polignac writes: "I never received this letter, I would have
sent it back to its author. In the moment of danger no one's resignation is
accepted."
The dismal night of the 28th passed quickly away, as
both parties summoned their mightiest energies for the The troops desert.
death-struggle on the morrow. The truce of a few hours,
which darkness and exhaustion compelled, was favorable to the people. I
think it was Madame de Staël who made the shrewd remark that "there is
nothing so successful as success." The real victory which the people had
achieved not only inspired the combatants with new courage, but induced
thousands, who had hesitated, to swell their ranks, and the troops of the line
very generally deserted the defense of the Government and passed over to
the people.
Early in the morning of the 29th the heroic little band of the Guard
stationed at the Tuileries—heroic in their devotion to discipline, though
unconsciously maintaining a bad cause—received a reinforcement of fifteen
hundred infantry and six hundred cavalry. This, however, did but little more
than make up for the losses in killed and wounded of the preceding day, and
as most of the troops of the line had now gone over to the people, the cause
of the Government seemed hopeless. As General Marmont counted up his
resources, he found that he had but five thousand effective men and eight
guns to defend his position at the Tuileries. A hundred thousand combatants,
most of them well armed and disciplined, and renowned for bravery,

surrounded him. Military men who may be familiar with the localities,
either by observation or from maps, may be interested in seeing how
General Marmont disposed of his force to meet the emergency.
A Swiss battalion occupied the Carrousel. Two more
Swiss battalions were stationed in the Louvre, a fortress Tactics of General
Marmont.
which could not easily be stormed. Two battalions were
placed in the Rue de Rivoli, to guard the northern entrance to the Carrousel.
Three battalions of the Guard and a regiment of cavalry occupied the
garden of the Tuileries and the spacious Place de la Concorde, outside of
the iron railing. Two battalions of the line, who had not yet abandoned their
colors, were stationed in the Rue Castiglione, which abuts upon the garden
near its central northern entrance.
By this arrangement General Marmont, if sorely pressed, could rapidly
concentrate his whole force, either in the Carrousel or in the garden of the
Tuileries, where he could easily for some time hold an army at bay. Should
retreat be found necessary, there was open before him the broad avenue of
the Champs Elysées. The ground which the royal troops occupied was all
that remained under the control of the Government. The whole of the
remainder of Paris was in possession of the insurgents.
It was well known that General Marmont could feel but
little sympathy in the cause which, in obedience to his The struggle
continued.
oath, he felt compelled to defend. The insurgents were Interview between
now pressing the troops on every side. An incessant fire General Marmont
of musketry, accompanied by loud shouts, indicated the and M. Arago.
renewed severity with which the battle was beginning to
rage. The Provisional Government, anxious to arrest, if possible, the
carnage inevitable upon the continuance of the struggle, dispatched M.
Arago, the celebrated philosopher, who was an intimate friend of General
Marmont, to confer with him upon the subject. The philosopher was
introduced to the warrior, seated upon his horse in the middle of the
Carrousel, surrounded by his staff of officers. The following is, in
substance, the conversation which is represented as having taken place
between them. M. Arago first urged General Marmont to imitate the troops
of the line, and, with his Guard, espouse the cause of the people, which was

the cause of liberty and justice. The general firmly and somewhat
passionately replied,
"No! propose nothing to me which will dishonor me."
M. Arago then urged him to abandon a bad cause, to surrender his
command, retire to St. Cloud, and return his sword to the king, and no
longer to fight in defense of despotic measures, and against the people, who
were struggling only for their rights. The general replied:
"You know very well whether or not I approve of those
fatal and odious ordinances. But I am a soldier. I am in Firmness of
the post which has been intrusted to me. To abandon that Marmont.
post under the fire of sedition, to desert my troops, to be unfaithful to my
king, would be desertion, flight, ignominy. My fate is frightful. But it is the
decree of destiny, and I must go through with it."[W]
While they were conversing, the battle was still raging at the outposts with
the clamor of shouts, musketry, and booming cannon. An officer came,
covered with dust, and bleeding from his wounds, to urge that
reinforcements should be dispatched to one of the outposts which was hotly
assailed. "I have none to send," said the general, in tones of sadness and
despair. "They must defend themselves."
These two illustrious men, in heart both in sympathy, but by the force of
circumstances placed in opposite parties, arrayed in deadly strife, after a
long and melancholy interview separated, with the kindest feelings, each to
act his part, and each alike convinced that the Bourbon monarchy was
inevitably and rapidly approaching its end. The Provisional Government, so
hastily and imperfectly organized, had also sent a deputation to the
ministers assembled in the Tuileries. But Polignac and his associates
refused them admission. The decisive decree was then passed by the
Provisional Government that the king and his ministers were public
enemies, and orders were issued to press the royal troops on every side with
the utmost vigor.
The Hôtel de Ville became the head-quarters of the
insurgents, and the Provisional Government transferred Success of the
insurgents.
itself there. The military government of Paris was given

to Lafayette. The royal troops were speedily driven in to the vicinity of the
Louvre, and the situation of the ministers in the Tuileries became alarming.
They decided that it was necessary for them to retire to St. Cloud. Before
setting out they sent for General Marmont, that they might ascertain his
means of defense.
"You may tell the king," said General Marmont, "that, come what may, and
though the entire population of Paris should rise up against me, I can hold
this position for fifteen days without further reinforcements. This position is
impregnable."
As this statement was repeated to the king he was much
cheered by it. The monarchy was much stronger in the Capture of artillery.
provinces than in Paris. The populace of the capital
could do but little outside of its walls. A few days would give an
opportunity to assemble numerous regiments of the Guard from the various
positions they occupied in the vicinity of the metropolis. But affairs were
rapidly assuming a more fatal aspect in Paris than General Marmont had
deemed possible. The whole of the city, except the ground held by the royal
troops around the Tuileries, was in the hands of the insurgents. An
impetuous band of students from the Polytechnic School rushed upon and
took every piece of artillery in the Rue St. Honoré.
The regiment placed in the Rue Castiglione, to guard the great entrance into
the garden of the Tuileries from the boulevards, through the Rue de la Paix,
opened its ranks, and the triumphant populace, with shouts which rang
through Paris, entered the iron-railed inclosure. These disasters caused the
withdrawal of a portion of the troops who had for some time been
defending the Louvre from the colonnade opposite the Church of St.
Germain l'Auxerrois, where the insurgents were posted in great strength.
Thus encouraged, the insurgents rushed vehemently across the street, and
took the Louvre by storm. Flooding the palace like an ocean tide, they
opened a deadly fire from the inner windows upon the Swiss in the
Carrousel.
These brave men, thus assailed where successful
resistance was hopeless, were thrown into a panic. With Retreat of the
Royalists.
bullets whistling around them, deafened by the roar of

the battle and the shouts of infuriated men, and seeing their comrades
dropping every moment upon the pavement dead or wounded, they fled in
wild disorder through the arch of the Tuileries into the garden, into which,
from the side gate, as we have mentioned, the insurgents were pouring.
All was lost, and, as it were, in a moment. Such are the vicissitudes of
battle. General Marmont rushed to the rear, the post of danger and of honor
in a retreat. He did every thing which skill and courage could do to restore
order, and succeeded in withdrawing his little band into the grand avenue of
the Champs Elysées, through which they rapidly marched out of Paris,
leaving the metropolis in the hands of the insurgents. In the midst of the
storm of death which swept their retreating ranks General Marmont was the
last to leave the garden of the Tuileries. One hundred of the Swiss troops,
who had been posted in a house at the junction of the Rue de Richelieu and
the Rue St. Honoré, were unfortunately left behind. They perished to a man.
Did these heroic troops do right in thus proving faithful to their oaths, their
colors, and their king? Did these heroic people do right in thus resisting
tyranny and contending for liberty at the price of their blood? Alas for man!
Let us learn a lesson of charity.
General Marmont having collected his bleeding and
exhausted band in the Bois de Boulogne, where pursuit General Marmont
ceased, galloped across the wood to St. Cloud, in and the king.
anguish of spirit, to announce to the king his humiliating defeat.

PALACE OF ST. CLOUD.
"Sire," said this veteran of a hundred battles, with moistened eyes and
trembling lips, "it is my painful duty to announce to your majesty that I
have not been able to maintain your authority in Paris. The Swiss, to whom
I intrusted the defense of the Louvre, seized with a sudden panic, have
abandoned that important post. Carried away myself by the torrent of
fugitives, I was unable to rally the troops until they arrived at the arch of the
Étoile, and I have ordered them to continue their retreat to St. Cloud. A ball
directed at me has killed the horse of my aid-de-camp by my side. I regret
that it did not pass through my head. Death would be nothing to me
compared to the sad spectacle which I have witnessed."

The ministers were called in. All were struck with
consternation. The chateau of St. Cloud is but six miles Consternation at St.
from Paris. Thousands of men, maddened, savage, ripe Cloud.
for any deeds of outrage, might in an hour surround the castle and cut of all
possibility of retreat. There was no time for deliberation. As usual on such
occasions, confused and antagonistic views were hurriedly offered. M. de
Ranville, who had the evening before advised measures of compromise,
was now for a continuance of the conflict.
"The throne is overturned, we are told," said he; "the evil is great, but I
believe it is exaggerated; I can not believe that the monarchy is to fall
without a combat. Happen what may, Paris is not France. If, however, the
genius of evil is again to prove triumphant, if the legitimate throne is again
to fall, let it fall with honor; shame alone has no future." These sentiments
were strongly supported by the Duke d'Angoulême.
The king, however, either from a constitutional want of
heroism, or from a praiseworthy desire to save France Recall of the
ordinances.
from the horrors of a protracted civil war, refused to
appeal any longer to the energies of the sword. He hoped, however, that by
dismissing the obnoxious ministers, and revoking the ordinances, the people
might be appeased. A decree in accordance with this resolve was
immediately prepared and signed. A new ministry was also announced,
consisting of very popular men.
It is said that the Duke d'Angoulême paced the floor, quivering with
indignation, as this decree was signed, and that the discarded ministers left
the council-chamber "with tears in their eyes and despair in their hearts."
The new ordinances were hastily dispatched to the Provisional Government
at the Hôtel de Ville. "It is too late," was the reply. "The throne of Charles
X. has melted away in blood." Some few of the members, dreading the
anarchy which might follow the demolition of the throne, urged that the
envoys might be received, as it was still possible to come to an
accommodation. But their voices were drowned by cries from all parts of
the hall, "It is too late. We will have no more transactions with the
Bourbons."

It would only bewilder the reader to attempt a narrative
of the scenes of desperation, recrimination, confusion, Scenes of
confusion.
and dismay which simultaneously ensued. M. de
Montmart, whom the king had appointed in place of Prince Polignac as the
new President of the Council, a noble of vast wealth, and one of the bravest
of men, set out in his shirt-sleeves, disguised as a peasant, hoping to gain
access to the Provisional Government, and, by his personal influence, to
save the monarchy. His mission was in vain. General Marmont, to spare the
useless shedding of blood, entered into a truce—some said a capitulation—
with the revolutionary forces. The Duke d'Angoulême, in his rage, called
the venerable marshal to his face a traitor. In endeavoring to wrest from him
his sword, the duke severely wounded his own hand. General Marmont was
put under arrest; but soon, by the more considerate king, was released.
The king, with most of the royal family and court,
retired to the chateau of Trianon, at Versailles, four or Retreat to
Versailles.
five miles farther back in the country. The Duke
d'Angoulême was left in command of such troops of the guard and of the
line as could be collected, to act as rear-guard at St. Cloud. But scarcely had
Charles X. established himself at Trianon ere the duke presented himself in
the presence of his father, with the disheartening intelligence that the troops
stationed at the bridge of St. Cloud to prevent the insurgents from crossing
the Seine, had refused to fire upon them. In consequence, the revolutionary
forces had taken possession of the chateau, and were preparing to march
upon Trianon.
The king had gathered around him at Trianon about
twelve thousand troops. Some of them were troops of To Rambouillet.
the line. He knew not what reliance could be placed in
their fidelity. Alarm-couriers were continually arriving with appalling
tidings. Men, women, and boys, inflamed with passion, and many delirious
with brandy—on foot, and in all sorts of vehicles—a motley throng of
countless thousands—were on the march to attack him. The king had not
forgotten the visit of the mob of Paris to his brother Louis XVI. and family
at Versailles—their captivity—their sufferings in the dungeon and on the
scaffold. Another and an immediate retreat was decided upon to
Rambouillet, a celebrated royal hunting-seat, about thirty miles from Paris.

It was midnight when the king and his family, in the deepest dejection,
under escort of the Royal Guard, ten thousand strong, reached Rambouillet.
The Duke d'Angoulême still earnestly advocated the most determined
resistance. But the king, an old man who had already numbered his
threescore years and ten, was thoroughly disheartened. After a few hours of
troubled repose he, on the following morning, assembled his family around
him, and communicated his intention of abdicating in favor of his grandson,
the Count de Chambord. His son, the Duke d'Angoulême, renouncing his
rights as heir to the throne, assented to this arrangement. The king
announced this event in a letter to Louis Philippe, duke of Orleans,
appointing the duke lieutenant-general of France—requesting him to
proclaim the accession of the Count de Chambord, as Henry V., to the
throne, and authorizing him to act as regent during the minority of the king.
The act of abdication—drawn up informally as a letter to the Duke of
Orleans—contained the following expressions:
"I am too deeply distressed by the evils that afflict, or
that may seem to impend over my people, not to have Abdication.
sought a means to prevent them. I have, therefore,
resolved to abdicate the crown in favor of my grandson. The dauphin (the
Duke d'Angoulême), who participates in my sentiments, likewise renounces
his rights in favor of his nephew. You will therefore have, in your quality of
lieutenant-general of the kingdom, to cause to be proclaimed the accession
of Henry V. to the crown. You will, furthermore, take all measures that befit
you to regulate the forms of the Government during the minority of the new
king.
"I renew to you, my cousin, the assurance of the sentiments with which I
am your affectionate cousin, Charles."
But in the mean time an army of uncounted thousands was hastily organized
in Paris to march upon Rambouillet and drive the king out of France. This
formidable array of determined men was crowded into carriages, cabriolets,
omnibuses, and vehicles of every kind, and was pushed forward as rapidly
as possible. General Pajol commanded the expedition. General Excelmans
was intrusted with the advance-guard. This motley mass was trundled
along, singing the "Marseillaise" and other revolutionary songs, and

presenting far more the aspect of a mob than that of an army. In the position
in which the king was placed, with troops upon many of whom he could
place but little reliance, they were the more to be dreaded. Three
commissioners were sent in advance of the revolutionary troops to demand
of the king an unqualified resignation of the crown for himself and his
descendants. The king received them with calmness and dignity.
"What do you wish with me?" he said. "I have arranged every thing with the
Duke of Orleans, my lieutenant-general of the kingdom."
M. Odillon Barrot replied, "If the king would avoid
involving the kingdom in unheard-of calamities and a M. Barrot and the
king.
useless effusion of blood, it is indispensable that his
majesty and his family should instantly leave France. There are eighty
thousand men who have issued from Paris, ready to fall on the royal
forces."
The king took Marshal Maison, another of the commissioners, aside into the
embrasure of a window, and said to him, "Marshal Maison, you are a
soldier and a man of honor. Tell me, on your word of honor, is the army
which has marched out of Paris against me really eighty thousand strong?"
"Sire," the marshal replied, "I can not give you the number exactly; but it is
very numerous, and may amount to that force."
"Enough," said the king; "I believe you, and I consent to every thing to
spare the blood of my Guard."
Orders were immediately issued for the prompt
departure of the court for Cherbourg, there to embark for Departure for
some foreign land. In a few hours the mournful Cherbourg.
procession was in movement. The long cortége of carriages was
accompanied by several regiments of the Guard. Sad indeed must have been
the emotions of the inmates of those carriages as they commenced their
journey from the splendors of royalty to the obscurity of exile. Slowly this
funereal procession of departed power was seen winding its way through
the distant provinces of the realm, to find in foreign lands a refuge and a
grave.

The first night they stopped at Maintenon, where the
illustrious family of Noailles received the royal fugitives St. Maintenon.
with sympathy and generous hospitality, in one of the
most ancient and splendid country-seats of the kingdom. Here, the next
morning, the king took leave of the greater part of his Guard. He reserved
for his escort but a few hundred select troops, with six pieces of cannon.
General Marmont, in whom the king reposed implicit trust, was placed in
command of this little band, which was to guard the illustrious refugees to
the coast.
The parting of the King from that large portion of the Guard from whom he
here separated presented a touching spectacle. Loyalty with these soldiers
was a religious principle. In these hours of disaster, whatever might have
been the faults of their fallen sovereign, they forgot them all. They were
drawn up in military array along the noble avenue of the park. As the royal
cortége passed between them they presented arms, silent in their grief,
while many of these hardy veterans were in tears. The king himself was for
the moment quite unmanned, and, bowing his head, sobbed aloud.
Twelve days were occupied in the slow journey to
Cherbourg. It was deemed necessary to avoid all the Mournful journey.
large towns, and to take unfrequented paths, that they
might not be arrested in their progress by any popular uprising. Before
reaching Cherbourg the king had the mortification of hearing that the
Orleans throne had been reared upon the ruins of the Bourbon throne.
During the whole of this sad journey General Marmont, whose life had been
so full of adventure and vicissitude, rode on horseback by the side of the
carriage of the king. Many of the most illustrious noblemen and most
distinguished ladies of France, faithful to their principles and their king in
the hour of misfortune, added by their presence to the mournful pageantry
of the cavalcade. The peasants even were awed by this spectacle of fallen
grandeur. Though they gathered in crowds around the carriages in the
villages through which they passed the night, no word of insult was offered.
In silence they gazed upon the scene, and not unfrequently tears were seen
to moisten eyes quite unused to weep.

CHARLES X. AT VALOGNES.
When the cavalcade reached Valognes, a few miles from
Cherbourg, as all danger was passed, the king decided to Parting
Guard.
with the

dismiss the remainder of the Guard. Gathering around
him the officers, and six of the oldest soldiers of each company composing
his escort, he received from them the royal banners of the elder house of
Bourbon, which could no longer be unfurled in France. The Duke and the
Duchess d'Angoulême, and the Duchess de Berri, with her daughter, and her
son, the Duke of Bordeaux, stood by his side. With a trembling voice,
which was finally broken by sobs, the king said:
"I receive these standards, and this child" (pointing to the Duke of
Bordeaux) "will one day restore them to you. The names of each of you,
inscribed on your muster-rolls, and preserved by my grandson, will remain
registered in the archives of the royal family, to attest forever my
misfortunes, and the consolation I have received from your fidelity."
This was one of time's tragedies—the dethronement of a
dynasty. There are but few who will not, in some degree, Louis seeks an
appreciate the sublimity of the scene. All present were in asylum.
tears, and loud sobs were heard. The king and his family then laid aside all
the insignia of royalty, and assumed the dress more appropriate to exiles.
The king also wrote to the King of England and to the Emperor of Austria,

announcing his dethronement, and soliciting an asylum in each of their
realms.
It would seem, however, that Charles X., who twice before had been driven
into exile, did by no means relinquish the idea of regaining the crown for
his family. In taking leave of Prince Polignac, who more than any one else
was responsible for the obnoxious ordinances, he said:
"I recollect only your courage. I do not impute to you our misfortunes. Our
cause was that of God, of the throne, and of the people. Providence often
proves its servants by suffering, and defeats the best designs for reasons
superior to what our limited faculties can discern. But it never deceives
upright consciences. Nothing is yet lost for our house. I go to combat with
one hand, and to negotiate with the other. Retire behind the Loire, where
you will find an asylum from the vengeance of the people in the midst of
my army, which has orders to assemble at Chartres."
"Charles X.," writes Louis Blanc, "was tranquil. The aspect of the dauphine
in tears, of his woe-begone courtiers, and of the two children of the Duchess
de Berri, who, in their ignorance, found amusement in the novelty of every
thing about them—to all this he was insensible, or at least resigned. But the
sight of a bit of tri-colored ribbon, or a slight neglect of etiquette, was
enough to excite his petulance. It was necessary, in the small town of
L'Aigle, to have a square table made, according to court usage, for the
dinner of a monarch who was losing an empire. Thus he showed, combined
in his person, that excess of grandeur and of littleness which is acquired
from the practice of royalty."
The journey to Cherbourg was sad and solemn. The two
princesses, the Duchess d'Angoulême and the Duchess Journey to
de Berri, walked when the weather was fine. Their dress Cherbourg.
was very much neglected, because their attendants had not been able to
bring away linen or clothes. A grave and pensive expression sat on the faces
of the beholders wherever the cortége passed. Some officers presented
themselves on the road, bowing in homage to expiring royalty.
"Gentlemen," said the king, "keep those worthy sentiments for that child,
who alone can save you all;" and he pointed to the little flaxen-haired head
of the Duke of Bordeaux, at the window of a carriage following his own.

When the melancholy cortége, consisting of a long train
of carriages, reached the cliffs of Cherbourg, they beheld Arrival at
the ocean spread out in its apparently illimitable expanse Cherbourg.
before them. Here they halted. For a moment dismay filled their hearts; for
the advance couriers came galloping back with the tidings that a numerous
band of armed insurgents, a tumultuous mob, with shoutings like the
roarings of the sea, were advancing to assail the royal party. The king and
his son, the Duke d'Angoulême, hastily stepped from their carriages, and,
mounting horses, reached Cherbourg in safety. The ladies and children were
not molested save from the fright which they experienced.
An immense crowd thronged the streets of Cherbourg, raising revolutionary
cries, while the tri-color flags seemed to float from every window. The port
is separated from the town by a strong, circular iron railing. The marine
gate-way was guarded by some grenadiers, who closed it as soon as the
royal carriages, with the small accompanying guard, had entered. Within
this inclosure no tri-color flag was seen, no word of reproach was uttered.
Thousands crowded to the railing, eagerly looking
through the bars upon the tragedy which was transpiring. Embarkation.
The royal party alighted at a small bridge, carpeted with
blue cloth. The dauphine, who had passed through so many scenes of woe,
nearly fainted as with trembling steps she entered the ship which was to
bear her again to exile, and an exile from which death alone could release
her. The Duchess de Berri assumed an air of indignation and defiance,
characteristic of her Neapolitan blood. The little Duke of Bordeaux, now
called the Count de Chambord, in behalf of whom Charles X. had
abdicated, and who was consequently now regarded by all the court party as
their lawful sovereign, was carried in the arms of M. de Dumas, who was
very apprehensive lest the bullet of some assassin might pierce him. The
king sufficiently controlled his feelings to appear calm as ever.
The deposed monarch and his despairing household
stood upon the deck of the vessel as it was towed by a A sad farewell.
steamer out of the harbor. As the sails were unfurled, and
filled with a favoring breeze, they sadly watched the receding shores of
France. There was no parting salute. It was a funereal scene. Even the most
ardent Loyalists could not raise a cheer. A few hours' sail conveyed the

silent, melancholy court to England, and thence to Scotland, where an
asylum was found in the ancient palace of Holyrood, immortalized as the
scene of the sufferings of Mary Queen of Scots. Thus fell the throne of
Charles X.

Chapter VIII.

The Struggles of Diplomacy.
1830

U pon the sudden overthrow of the throne of Charles X. by a revolution in
the streets of Paris, four parties appeared, struggling for the crown.
Charles, as he fled with his court in terror from France, threw back a decree
of abdication in favor of his grandson, the Count de Chambord, then
entitled the Duke de Bordeaux. This child, who still lives, was then about
ten years old. The birth of this child, whom the Legitimists call Henry V.,
and whom they regard as the legitimate heir to the ancient throne of the
Bourbons, was hailed with rejoicing throughout France.
It is recorded that quite a dramatic scene occurred at his
birth. His grandfather, Charles X., hastened to the Birth of the Duke of
Bordeaux, now
chamber, and, seizing the new-born babe in his arms, called Count de
exclaimed, with delight, "Here is a fine Duke de Chambord.
Bordeaux! He is born for us all!" He then gave the child
a few drops of the wine of Pau, with which tradition says that the aged
father of Jeanne d'Albret anointed the lips of her child, Henry IV., before
the babe was allowed to place his mouth to his mother's breast.
The heroic mother of the young duke, the Duchess de Berri, whose
subsequent fate was so deplorable, said to the king, the father of her
departed husband, "Sire, I wish I knew the song of Jeanne d'Albret, that
every thing might be done here as at the birth of Henry IV."
The advocates of the ancient régime, the Legitimist
party, many of them illustrious in rank and intellect, Henry V. and the
Regency.
rallied around the banner of young Henry, the Duke of
Bordeaux. They probably had the sympathies of those European dynasties
which, by force of arms, had replaced the Bourbons upon that throne of
France from which the Revolution of 1789 had expelled them. In
accordance with the decree of abdication which Charles X. had issued, the
Legitimists wished the young Duke of Bordeaux to be recognized as

sovereign, with the title of Henry V,; and the Duke of Orleans, Louis
Philippe, to be accepted as regent, during the minority of the child.
Next came the Republican party, formidable in physical
strength, in Paris and in other cities. The Republicans Strength of the
had roused the masses, filling the streets with a hundred Republicans.
thousand armed workmen; they had inspired the conflict, demolished the
throne, achieved the revolution; but they had no leader capable of
organizing and controlling the tumultuous populace. The moneyed men,
remembering the Reign of Terror, were afraid of them. All through the rural
districts, the peasantry, influenced by the priests, could not endure the idea
of a republic.
The bankers in Paris, the moneyed class, men of large resources and
influence, were the leaders of the third, or Orleans party, so called. These
men were opposed to the aristocracy of rank, but were in favor of the
aristocracy of wealth. They had ample means and very able leaders. They
wished for a constitutional monarchy, modelled after the aristocratic
institutions of England. They would place upon the throne the Duke of
Orleans, a Bourbon, one of the richest nobles in Europe. He would be the
legitimate heir to the throne should the young Duke of Bordeaux die. The
Duke of Orleans, with his vast wealth, would be the fitting representative of
the moneyed class. The Orleanists could very effectually appeal to the
moderate men of the Legitimist and Republican parties in favor of a
compromise in the interest of the Duke of Orleans. To the first they said:
"Unless you accept the Duke of Orleans, there is danger
that the Republicans will gain the ascendency, and then Arguments of the
Orleanists.
our time-honored monarchy will be overthrown." To the
Republicans they said: "Unless you consent to this compromise, which
gives us a constitutional monarchy, under a citizen king, there is danger that
another coalition of the powers of Europe will inundate France, and, after
years of blood and woe, the old régime of the Bourbons will be again forced
upon us."
In speaking to the Republicans, they emphasized the declaration that Louis
Philippe would be a citizen king. When speaking to the Legitimists, they
laid stress upon the fact that the Duke of Orleans would be the legitimate

sovereign, should the frail child die who alone stood between him and the
throne.
There was a fourth party—the Imperial or Napoleonist. It existed then in
rather a latent state, though in a condition to be roused, as subsequent
events proved, to marvellous life by an electric touch. The renown of the
great emperor filled the land. The memorials of his reign were everywhere.
He was enthroned in the hearts of the French people, as monarch was never
enthroned before. But the Bourbons had taken especial care to banish from
France every one who bore his name, and to obliterate, as far as possible,
every memorial of his wonderful reign. The revolution had burst upon Paris
with almost the suddenness of the lightning's flash. There was no one there
who could speak in behalf of the descendants of him who had so lately
filled the world with his renown, and who was still enshrined, with almost
idolatrous worship, in so many hearts.
From the above it will be perceived that the chances
were greatly in favor of the Orleans party. Louis Embarrassment of
Louis Philippe.
Philippe was placed in perhaps as embarrassing and
painful a position as man ever occupied. He was far advanced in life, with
property amounting, it is said, to about one hundred millions of dollars.
Revolutionary storms had, at one time, driven him into the extreme of
poverty. He had experienced the severest sufferings of persecution and
exile. Now, in his declining years, happy amidst the splendors of the Palais
Royal, and in his magnificent retreat at Neuilly, he was anxious for repose.
Should he allow himself to be placed at the head of the
obnoxious, utterly-defeated Legitimist party, as regent Indecision.
during the minority of the Duke of Bordeaux? It was
scarcely possible that he could maintain his position. Republicans,
Orleanists, and Imperialists, all would combine against him. The army
could not be relied upon to sustain him. Ruin seemed inevitable—not only
the confiscation of his property, but probably also the loss of his head.
Should he allow himself to be made king by the bankers in Paris? He would
be an usurper; false to his own principles of legitimacy, to those principles
which had brought him into sympathy with the allied dynasties of Europe in

those long and bloody wars by which they had forced rejected legitimacy
back upon France.
The little Duke of Bordeaux and his grandfather, Charles X., were his near
blood relatives. He had received from the royal family great favors—the
restoration of his vast domains. He would be morally guilty of the greatest
ingratitude in assuming the attitude of their antagonist, interposing himself
between the lawful heir and the crown. Should he stand aloof from these
agitations, and take no part in the movement of affairs, then anarchy or a
Republic seemed the inevitable result. In either case, he, as a rich Bourbon,
with an amount of wealth which endangered the state, would be driven from
France and his property confiscated.
But affairs pressed. Scarcely a moment could be allowed
for deliberation. The crisis demanded prompt and The pressure of
events.
decisive action. The embarrassment of the duke is
painfully conspicuous in the interviews which ensued. Anxiously he paced
the floor of his library at Neuilly, bewildered and vacillating.
There was a rich banker at Paris by the name of Lafitte. He called a meeting
at his house, of Guizot, Thiers, and other leading journalists. There they
decided to unite upon the Duke of Orleans, and to combine immediately,
without a moment's delay, all possible influences in Paris, to place the
sceptre of power in his hands, before the dreaded Republicans should have
the opportunity to grasp it. It was the 30th of July, the last of the three days'
conflict. The thunders of the battle had scarcely ceased to echo through the
streets of the metropolis.
Baron Glandevès, governor of the Tuileries, and of
course a warm partisan of Charles X., who had probably Interview between
the baron and the
heard a rumor of this meeting, called upon M. Lafitte, banker.
and the following conversation is reported as having
taken place between them:
"Sir," said the baron to the banker, "you have now been master of Paris for
twenty-four hours. Do you wish to save the monarchy?"
"Which monarchy?" inquired Lafitte, "the monarchy of 1789, or the
constitutional monarchy of 1814?"

"The constitutional monarchy," the baron replied.
"To save it," rejoined Lafitte, "only one course remains; and that is to crown
the Duke of Orleans."
"The Duke of Orleans!" exclaimed the baron, "what are his titles to the
crown? That boy, the son of Napoleon, whom Vienna has educated, can at
least invoke the memory of his father's glory. It must be admitted that
Napoleon has written his annals in characters of fire upon the minds of
men. But the Duke of Orleans—what prestige surrounds him? What has he
done? How many of the people know his history, or have even heard his
name?"
"In the fact of his want of renown," replied the banker, "I see a
recommendation. Having no influence over the imagination, he will be the
less able to break away from the restraints of a constitutional monarch. His
private life is irreproachable. He has respected himself in his wife, and has
caused himself to be revered and loved by his children."
"Mere domestic virtues," rejoined M. Glandevès, "are not to be
recompensed by a crown. Are you ignorant that he is accused of approving
of the vote of his father for the death of Louis XVI.; that in our dark days he
associated himself with projects to exclude forever from the throne the
legitimate heirs; that during the Hundred Days he preserved a mysterious
inaction; that, since 1815, while pretending to be the humble servant of the
court, he has been the secret fomenter of all intrigues? Louis XVIII.
restored to him his vast estates. Charles X., by a personal request to the
Chambers, secured them to him, by legal and irrefragable rights, and
conferred upon him the title of royal highness, which he so long coveted.
How can he now, thus burdened with kindnesses from the elder branch of
the Bourbons, seize upon their inheritance?"
"It is not for the personal interest of the duke," replied M. Lafitte, "that we
wish to place him upon the throne, but for the salvation of the country. This
alone can save us from anarchy, which otherwise seems inevitable. I do not
ask whether the situation of the Duke of Orleans is painful to his feelings,
but simply whether his accession to the throne is desirable for France. What
prince is more liberal in his political sentiments, or more free from those
prejudices which have ruined Charles X.? And where can we find any

candidate for the throne who combines so many advantages? And what
course can you propose preferable to that of placing the crown on his
head?"
"If you believe Charles X. guilty," rejoined the baron, "at least you will
admit that the Duke de Bordeaux is innocent. Let us preserve the crown for
him. He will be trained up in good principles. Does Lafayette very sincerely
desire a Republic?"
"He would wish for it," Lafitte replied, "if he were not afraid of too
searching a convulsion."
"Well, then," said the baron, "let a council of regency be established. You
would take part in it with Lafayette."
M. Lafitte replied, "Yesterday that might have been possible; and, had the
Duchess de Berri—separating her cause from that of the old king—
presented herself, with her young son, holding a tri-color in her hand—"
"A tri-color!" exclaimed the baron, in astonishment, interrupting him—"A
tri-color! Why, it is, in their eyes, the symbol of every crime. Rather than
adopt it, they would suffer themselves to be brayed in a mortar."
"Under these circumstances," inquired Lafitte, "what is it you have to
propose to me?"
The prompt reply was, "Respect the divine right of the Duke of Bordeaux—
proclaim him sovereign, as Henry V.—intrust the regency, during his
minority, to the Duke of Orleans."
This was the plan of the Legitimists. Talleyrand also
cherished the same view. The Republicans were by no Plan of the
means inclined to enthrone another Bourbon in the place Legitimists.
of Charles X. When M. Thiers and M. Mignet, with others from the office
of the Nationale, appeared among the crowd distributing printed slips of
paper eulogizing the Duke of Orleans, they were received with hisses.
When it was announced to the combatants of the Passage Dauphin that
there was a plot concocting to raise the Duke of Orleans to the throne, there
was one unanimous burst of rage, with the simultaneous exclamation, "If
that be the case, the battle is to be begun again, and we will go and cast

fresh balls. No more Bourbons: we will have none of them." M. Leroux,
who had witnessed this scene, hurried to the Hôtel de Ville to warn
Lafayette of the danger. He assured Lafayette that the Republican spirit
which Lafayette had evoked now menaced Paris and France with anarchy,
and that the attempt to place another Bourbon on the throne would be the
signal of a new and terrible conflict.
Lafayette—who was seated in a large armchair—
seemed, for a moment, stunned and speechless. A Anxiety of
messenger came in to inform him that the Duke of Lafayette.
Chartres—the eldest son of the Duke of Orleans—had been taken captive,
and that a riotous band was surging through the streets shouting, "A prince
is taken! Let us go and shoot him!" Almost by miracle the young duke
escaped death.
The peril of anarchy was hourly increasing. There was
not a moment to be lost in organizing, if possible, some Danger of anarchy.
stable government. The millions in the rural districts
would not accept a Republic organized by the populace in Paris. The men of
property, and the friends of order generally, thought that their only chance
of averting confusion and ruin was to rally in support of the Orleans
dynasty. Thus the Orleans party rapidly increased among the more wealthy
and reputable portion of the citizens. The leading journals espoused their
cause. Nearly all the journals, trembling in view of the threatening anarchy,
earnestly rallied around that banner. Béranger, the most popular poet in
France—notwithstanding his profound admiration of Napoleon, which was
breathed forth in so many of his soul-stirring songs—gave the Orleanists
the aid of his all-powerful pen.
The following proclamation in favor of the Duke of Orleans was issued:
"Charles X. can never return to Paris; he has shed the
blood of the people. A Republic would expose us to Orleanist
horrible divisions; it would involve us in hostilities with proclamation.
Europe. The Duke of Orleans is a prince devoted to the cause of the
Revolution. The Duke of Orleans has never fought against us. The Duke of
Orleans was at Jemappes. The Duke of Orleans is a citizen king. The Duke
of Orleans has carried the tri-color flag under the enemy's fire. The Duke of

Orleans can alone carry it again. We will have no other flag. The Duke of
Orleans does not declare himself. He waits for the expression of our wishes.
Let us proclaim those wishes and he will accept the charter, as we have
always understood and desired it. It is from the French people he will hold
the crown."
"This proclamation," says Louis Blanc, "was drawn up with great art. It
repeated the name of the Duke of Orleans again and again, in order that this
name, little known to the people, might nevertheless be deeply imprinted on
its memory. By talking of the tri-color flag and Jemappes to a multitude
who troubled themselves little about political forms, it engaged, on behalf
of the elect of the bourgeoisie, that national feeling that had been exalted to
so high a pitch by the victories of the Republic and the Empire, Lastly, it
invoked the sovereignty of the people, the better to destroy it—an old trick
of courage-lacking ambition."
The above proclamation was placarded throughout Paris, and was
simultaneously published in the three leading journals, the Nationale, the
Courier Français, and the Commerce, which were severally edited by the
distinguished journalists, Thiers, Mignet, and Larequy. Another renowned
editor, M. Carrel, was dispatched to Rouen, to gain that important city to
the Orleans cause.
In the mean time, the Legitimists, headed by
Chateaubriand and Talleyrand, were not idle. These men Activity of the
were not merely ambitious partisans. It can not be Legitimists.
doubted that they believed that the interests of France would be best
promoted by respecting the rights of the Duke of Bordeaux, under the
lieutenant-generalship of the Duke of Orleans.
The successful insurrectionists, composed mainly of the
Republican and Democratic parties in Paris, had their Attempts at
head-quarters at the Hôtel de Ville. Here they hastily compromise.
organized what they called a Provisional Government. General Lafayette
presided over their deliberations. The embarrassment of affairs was such,
that the illustrious marquis was in a state of cruel anxiety. In principle he
was a Republican. And yet he could see no possibility of evolving a stable
Republic from the chaos into which the political world was then plunged.

After much deliberation, the Republican leaders at the Hôtel de Ville sent
General Dubourg, as a commissioner, to the Orleanists assembled at M.
Lafitte's, to confer respecting a compromise and union of parties. But
already the Orleanists felt so strong that they refused even to admit him to
their presence.
The Orleanists were very anxious, from fear that the
Duke of Orleans might accede to the proposition of the Fears of the
Legitimists, and proclaim the Duke of Bordeaux king, Orleanists.
and himself, in accordance with the decree of Charles X., lieutenant-general
of France, and regent during the minority of the duke. This would be in
accordance with the forms of law, and the only legal course. Such a step
would give the Legitimists immense vantage-ground, from which they
could only be driven by another bloody conflict.
To guard against this peril, it was decided to send a delegation, consisting of
M. Thiers, M. Scheffer, and M. Sebastiani, to the rural chateau of Louis
Philippe, at Neuilly, which was but a short distance from Paris, to offer to
him the crown. Should he refuse it, they were directed to arrest him and
convey him to a place of safety, and hold him in close custody. Louis Blanc,
in his "Dix Ans de Louis Philippe," has given a minute account of this
interview. It would seem that Louis Philippe, in an agony of suspense,
though informed of the approach of the delegation, was not prepared to
meet them. To avoid the interview, he fled to Rancy, leaving his wife and
sister behind him.
The Duchess of Orleans received the gentlemen. Pale and trembling, she
listened to the offer of a crown to her husband. Then with extreme emotion
she replied to M. Scheffer, the speaker of the party:
"How could you undertake such a mission? That M. Thiers should have
charged himself with it, I can understand. He little knew us. But that you,
who have been admitted to our intimacy—who knew us so well—ah! we
can never forgive it."
Just then Louis Philippe's sister, Madame Adelaide,
followed by Madame de Montjoie, entered the room. Singular interview.
Fully comprehending the object of the mission, and the
dangers which surrounded them, Madame Adelaide said,

"Let them make my brother a president, a commander of the National
Guard, any thing, so that they do not make him a proscribed."
"Madame," responded M. Thiers, "it is a throne which we come to offer
him."
"But what," rejoined the princess, "will Europe think? Shall he seat himself
on the throne from which Louis XVI. descended to mount the scaffold?
What a panic will it strike in all royal houses! The peace of the world will
be endangered."
"These apprehensions, madame," M. Thiers replied, "are natural, but they
are not well-founded. England, full of the recollection of the banished
Stuarts, will applaud an event of which her history furnishes an example
and a model. As to the absolute monarchies, far from reproaching the Duke
of Orleans for fixing on his head a crown floating on the storm, they will
approve a step which will render his elevation a barrier against the
unchained passions of the multitude. There is something great and worth
saving in France. And if it be too late for legitimacy, it is not for a
constitutional throne. After all, there remains to the Duke of Orleans only a
choice of danger. In the present posture of affairs, to fly from the possible
dangers of royalty is to face a Republic and its inevitable tempests."
These forcible words of the sagacious statesman
produced a deep impression upon the strong and well- Agitation of the
balanced mind of Madame Adelaide. She was fully ducal family.
capable of appreciating all their import. She gave virtual assent to them by
saying, "I am a child of Paris: I am willing to intrust myself to the
Parisians." It was decided to send immediately for the duke. A messenger
soon reached him, and he set out on horseback, accompanied by M.
Montesquiou, for Paris. Still his irresolution, timidity, and bewilderment
were so great that, before reaching the city, his heart misgave him, and,
turning his horse, he galloped with the utmost speed back to Rancy. Alison,
in depicting these scenes, says, with a severity which our readers will
probably think that the recorded facts scarcely warrant,
"He had neither courage enough to seize the crown which was offered to
him, nor virtue enough to refuse it. He would gladly have declined the

crown if he had been sure of retaining his estates. The most powerful
argument for accepting it was, that by so doing he could save his property."
The strange crisis of affairs was such that, while the
population of France was over thirty millions, a few Strange crisis of
bankers in Paris, without consulting the voice of the affairs.
people, were about to impose upon them a government and a king; and it
must be admitted that the peril of the nation was such that many of the
purest and noblest men approved of these measures. The majority of the
members of the Chamber of Deputies were gained over to this cause; and
even the members of the House of Peers were so overawed by the menacing
aspect of the excited populace, that they were disposed to fall in with the
movement.
The deputies were assembled at the Hôtel Bourbon,
waiting to receive the report of the delegation which had Appalling rumor.
been sent to offer the crown to Louis Philippe. It is said
that there was but one man, M. Hyde de Neuville, who occupied the
benches reserved for the advocates of the old royalty. There were probably,
however, others in favor of the Duke of Bordeaux, who absented
themselves. While thus in session, the rumor came that a body of royalist
troops from Rouen were marching upon Paris, and that their cannon were
already planted upon the heights of Montmartre, which commanded the
city. In the midst of the consternation which this communication created,
the deputies returned from Neuilly, with a report of their favorable reception
by the family of Louis Philippe.
Immediately, though with some dissenting voices, the following resolution
was adopted, and transmitted to the Duke of Orleans:
"The deputies in Paris deem it essential to implore his royal highness the
Duke of Orleans to repair immediately to Paris, to exercise the functions of
lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and also to resume, in accordance with
the universal wish, the tri-color flag."
Meanwhile the peers had met in their hall, in the palace of the Luxembourg.
Chateaubriand was then in the plenitude of his renown as a writer, an orator,
a statesman. Crowds of young men, in admiration of his genius, were ready
enthusiastically to follow his leading. This distinguished man fully realized

the true state of affairs—the difficulties involved in whatever course they
should attempt to pursue. For some time he sat apart, silent and melancholy,
apparently in gloomy thought. Suddenly he rose, and, in deliberate, solemn
tones, said:
"Let us protest in favor of the ancient monarchy. If needs be, let us leave
Paris. But wherever we may be driven, let us save the king, and surrender
ourselves to the trust of a courageous fidelity. If the question come to the
salvation of legitimacy, give me a pen and two months, and I will restore
the throne."
Scarcely had he concluded these bold, proud words, when a delegation
presented itself from the Chamber of Deputies, soliciting the co-operation
of the peers in placing the crown upon the brow of the Duke of Orleans. It
was soon manifest that but few of the peers were prepared to surrender
themselves to martyrdom by following the courageous but desperate
councils of Chateaubriand.
The ultra democratic party, dissatisfied with the
moderate tone assumed by Lafayette and his associates The ultra
at the Hôtel de Ville, formed a new organization at a hall Democrats.
in the Rue St. Honoré. They were bold, determined men, ready to adopt the
most audacious resolutions, and to shed their blood like water, in street
fights, to maintain them. They were numerous, and with nervous gripe held
the arms they had seized; but they had no commander. There was not a man
in their ranks who could secure the support of a respectable party
throughout France. They had no pecuniary resources—they consisted
merely of a tumultuous band of successful insurrectionists, with no one of
sufficient character and prominence upon whom even they could unite to
recognize as their leader. The eloquent and universally popular Béranger,
advocating in all his glowing verse the rights of the people, with other
agents of the Orleans cause, repaired to this democratic gathering, to win
them over, if possible, to their side. Angrily the Democrats rejected all such
propositions. A ferocious debate ensued, which was terminated by a pistol-
shot from an enraged opponent, which wounded an Orleanist orator
severely in the cheek. It was no longer safe, in that presence, to urge the
claims of Louis Philippe. His advocates, as speedily as possible, left the
hall.

The Democrats, as this wing of the Republican party
may be called, who had broken from their more The demand for a
moderate brethren, who were assembled, under the plebiscite.
presidency of Lafayette, at the Hôtel de Ville, thus left to themselves, sent a
deputation to that body, with the following well-expressed remonstrance
against organizing a government without consulting the voice of the French
people:
"The people yesterday reconquered their rights at the expense of their
blood. The most precious of their rights is that of choosing their form of
government. Till this is done, no proclamation should be issued announcing
any form of government as adopted. A provisional representation of the
nation exists: let it continue till the wishes of the majority of Frenchmen are
known."
The spacious Place de Grève, in front of the Hôtel de
Ville, was crowded with an excited, surging, tumultuous Tumultuous scenes.
mass, anxiously awaiting the issues of each passing hour. The democratic
delegation elbowed their way through the crowd, and were courteously
received by Lafayette, in behalf of the Provisional Government. As
Lafayette was addressing them, a gentleman entered, M. Sussy, a
commissioner from the fugitive king, Charles X., with a proclamation
which Charles had issued, hoping to conciliate the enraged people by
revoking the ordinances which had roused them to insurrection, dismissing
the obnoxious ministers who had recommended those ordinances, and
appointing a new cabinet of more popular men.
It was too late for compromise. The same proclamation
had been sent to the deputies, but they refused to receive Resolutions passed
it. Upon the announcement of the mission of M. Sussy, by the Republicans.
the indignant cry arose from the Republicans, "No! no! away with him: we
will have nothing more to do with the Bourbons." So great was the fury
excited that it was with difficulty that a brawny Republican, M. Bastide,
was prevented from throwing M. Sussy out of the window. By the
interposition of Lafayette, he was withdrawn, in the midst of a frightful
tumult, to another room. Under the influence of the hostile feelings thus
aroused, a series of resolutions were passed, declaring that France would

have no more of royalty—that the representatives of the people alone
should make the laws, to be executed only by a temporary president.
It will be seen that these resolutions were in direct opposition to the views
of those who wished to re-erect the monarchy and to place Louis Philippe
upon the throne. But these resolutions were passionately adopted, by the
most radical portion of the party, in the midst of a scene of the wildest
tumult. They were by no means unanimously accepted. The more moderate
of the Republicans, with Lafayette at their head, in view of the agitation
hourly augmenting in the streets, in view of the insuperable difficulties,
obvious to every well-informed man, of establishing a stable Republic in a
realm where a large majority of the population were opposed to a Republic,
and trembling in view of the anarchy with which all France was menaced,
and conscious that a Republic would excite the hostility of every
surrounding throne—were already strongly inclined to effect a union with
the Orleans party, under a constitutional monarchy.
In various parts of the city there were excited gatherings,
adopting all sorts of revolutionary resolutions, and Arrogance of the
sending delegations to the Hôtel de Ville with Polytechnic pupils.
instructions, petitions, and threats. The students of the Polytechnic School
—who had distinguished themselves in the bloodiest scenes of the street-
fight with the troops of Charles X.—sent a committee to the Hôtel de Ville
with a military order, to which they demanded an official signature. The
appropriate officer, M. Lobau, refused to sign it. "You recoil, do you?" said
the determined young man who presented the ordinance. "Nothing is so
dangerous, in revolutions, as to recoil: I will order you to be shot!"
"To be shot!" was the indignant reply. "Shoot a member of the Provisional
Government!"
The young man drew him to the window, pointed to a well-armed band of a
hundred men, who had fought desperately the day before: "There," said he,
"are men who would shoot God Almighty, were I to order them to do so."
The order was signed in silence.
Such occurrences gave new impulse to the inclinations
of Lafayette and the more moderate of the Republican Increasing anxiety
and peril.
party towards the Orleanists, who were deliberating in

the salons of M. Lafitte. Charles X., who had fled from St. Cloud with his
family and with some of the most devoted of his followers, while these
scenes were transpiring, was still in France, at but a few leagues from Paris,
at the head of twelve thousand veteran troops. Should the Duke of Orleans
escape and join him, and rally the rural portion of the people in defense of
Legitimacy, and in support of the Duke of Bordeaux, results might ensue
appalling to the boldest imagination. As hour after hour passed away, and
the duke did not appear in Paris, the anxiety in the crowded salons of M.
Lafitte was terrible. Orleanists and Republicans were alike imperilled. The
re-establishment of the old régime would inevitably consign the leaders of
both these parties, as traitors, to the scaffold. Democratic cries were
resounding, more and more loudly, through the streets. Power was fast
passing into the hands of the mob. Should the Duke of Orleans fail his
party, there was no one else around whom they could rally, and their
disastrous defeat was inevitable.
The hours were fast darkening into despair. Messengers
were anxiously sent to the Palais Royal, the sumptuous The panic.
city residence of the duke, to ascertain if he had arrived.
No tidings could be heard from him. The domestics seemed to be packing
up the valuables in preparation for removal. The utter failure of Béranger
and his associates to gain the co-operation of the Democrats was reported.
The decisive resolution adopted at the Hôtel de Ville was known. All
seemed lost. There was nothing before the eye but a frightful vision of
anarchy and bloodshed. A general panic seized all those assembled in the
apartments of Lafitte, and there was a sudden dispersion. It was near
midnight; but three persons were left—Lafitte, Adolphe Thibodeaux, and
Benjamin Constant. A few moments of anxious conversation ensued.
"What will become of us to-morrow?" sadly inquired Lafitte.
"We shall all be hanged," replied Benjamin Constant, in the calm aspect of
despair.
In this crisis of affairs, matters threatened to become still
more involved by two energetic young men, M. Two imperialists.
Ladvocat and M. Dumoulin, who proposed to bring
forward the claims of the Empire. The name of Napoleon then pronounced

in the streets, and the unfurling of the eagle-crowned banner under any
recognized representative of his renown, would, perhaps, have called a
party into being which would instantly have overridden all others. This peril
was adroitly averted by the sagacity of M. Thiers and M. Mignet. By their
powerful persuasion they induced M. Ladvocat to desist from the attempt
The other young man, who was found inflexible in his resolve, they lured
into a room in the Hôtel de Ville, where they caused him to be arrested and
imprisoned.
In the following terms Louis Blanc describes this singular event:
"While every one was seeking to realize his wishes, a
few voices only were heard uttering the name of the Testimony of Louis
Blanc.
emperor in a city that had so long echoed to that sound.
Two men without influence, military reputation, or celebrity of any kind,
MM. Ladvocat and Dumoulin, conceived, for a while, the idea of
proclaiming the Empire. M. Thiers easily persuaded one of them that
fortune gives herself to him who hastens to seize her. The other appeared,
dressed as an orderly-officer, in the great hall of the Hôtel de Ville. But,
being politely requested by M. Carbonel to pass into an adjoining room, he
was there locked up and kept prisoner.
"This is one of those curiosities of history the key of which is found in the
grovelling nature of most human ambition. The son of Napoleon was far
away. For those who were actuated by vulgar hopes, to wait was to run the
risk of losing those first favors which are always easiest to obtain from a
government that has need to win forgiveness for its accession. Nevertheless,
Napoleon's memory lived in the hearts of the people. But what was requisite
to the crowning of the immortal victim of Waterloo in the first-born of his
race?—That an old general should appear in the streets, draw his sword,
and shout, Vive Napoleon II!
"But no; General Gourgaud alone made some tentative
efforts. Napoleon, besides, had pigmied all minds round The Empire.
his own. The imperial régime had kindled in the
plebeians he had abruptly ennobled a burning thirst for place and
distinction. The Orleanist party recruited itself among all those whose
promptitude to revive the Empire needed, perhaps, but one flash of

hardihood, a leader, and a cry. Of all the generals whose fortunes were of
imperial growth, Subervic alone gave his voice for a Republic in M.
Lafitte's saloons—at least he was the only one that was remarked. Thus all
was over as regards Napoleon. And some little time after this, a young
colonel, in the service of Austria, died beyond the Rhine—the frail
representative of a dynasty whose last breath passed away with him."[X]
When Louis Blanc penned these lines he little supposed that but a few years
would pass away ere the almost unanimous voice of the French people
would call Napoleon III. to the throne of France, and that under his
energetic sway France would enjoy for twenty years prosperity at home and
influence abroad which almost eclipsed the splendors of the first Empire.
In the mean time an agitated crowd poured out through
the gates of Paris, and, invading Neuilly, surrounded the The mob at Neuilly.
chateau, intending to seize the Duke of Orleans and
carry him into the city. But he, as we have mentioned, had retired to Rancy.
The leaders of this multitude, professing to be a deputation from the
Chamber of Deputies, demanded to see the duchess, and informed her that
they should take her and her children as hostages to the city, and there keep
them until the duke should appear in Paris. The duchess, terrified in view of
the peril to which she and her children would be exposed in the hands of an
ungovernable mob, wrote to her husband entreating him to return
immediately.
Thus influenced, the duke resolved to repair to Paris.
The streets were thronged with an excited mob, who The duke visits
Paris.
would surely assassinate him should he be recognized.
The peril of his family overcame his constitutional timidity. In disguise,
accompanied by three persons only, who were also disguised, this reluctant
candidate for one of the most brilliant of earthly crowns, a little before
midnight, set out on foot from his rural retreat; and, entering Paris,
traversed the thronged streets, with Republican cries resounding
everywhere about him. In several instances the mob, little aware whom they
were assailing, compelled him to respond to the cry. Upon reaching his
sumptuous palace, sometime after midnight, he threw himself, in utter
exhaustion, upon a couch, and sent the welcome announcement to his
friends of his arrival. M. de Montmart, one of the most prominent of the

Orleans party, immediately called. He found the duke in a state of extreme
agitation, bathed in sweat, undressed, and covered only with a light spread.
The duke gave vehement utterance to his perplexities and alarm. He
declared his devotion to the principles of Legitimacy, and his inalienable
attachment to his friends and relatives of the elder branch of the Bourbon
family. He remonstrated against the cruelty of placing him in the false
position of their antagonist, saying, "I would rather die than accept the
crown." Seizing a pen, he wrote a letter to Charles X., full of protestations
of loyalty and homage. M. de Montmart concealed this epistle in the folds
of his cravat, and it was conveyed to the fugitive king.
This epistle was probably intended only to be a forcible expression of the
extreme reluctance with which Louis Philippe yielded to those influences
which seemed morally to compel him to accept the crown. Charles X. was
cruelly deceived by the letter. He interpreted it to signify that the Duke of
Orleans would remain firm in his allegiance to the dynasty which had been
driven by successful insurrection from Paris.

THE PALAIS ROYAL.
At an early hour the next morning, a delegation from the
Scene in the Palais
Chamber of Deputies, with General Sebastiani at its Royal.

head, arrived at the Palais Royal. The agitations of the Advice of
Talleyrand.
hour were such that, without waiting for an
announcement, they broke into the presence of the duke with the entreaty
that he would accept from them the lieutenant-generalcy of the kingdom,
which was merely the stepping-stone to the throne. The duke was still very
undecided, or, to save appearances, feigned to be so. The deputies assured
him that the crisis was so imperious, that not only the destinies of France,
but also his own life, were probably dependent upon his accepting the
appointment. The duke implored a few more moments for private reflection,
and retired to his cabinet with General Sebastiani, who was then hurriedly
dispatched to the hotel of M. Talleyrand in the Rue St. Florentin. Talleyrand
had been one of the firmest supporters of Legitimacy. Louis Philippe sought
his advice. The wily statesman, who had lived through so many revolutions,
had not yet left his bed-chamber, and was dressing. He, however, promptly
returned the sealed answer, "Let him accept."
The duke hesitated no longer. Returning to the Deputies, he announced his
decision. The most vigorous action was now required. A proclamation to the
inhabitants of Paris was immediately drawn up in the name of Louis
Philippe, and which was unanimously agreed to by the delegation,
announcing that, in obedience to the wishes of the Deputies, he had
assumed the office of lieutenant-general of France. At the same time, the
illustrious writer, M. Guizot, was intrusted with the duty of preparing a
more full exposition of the principles of the Orleanist party, which was to
be signed by ninety-one of the Deputies. The proclamation issued by Louis
Philippe, and which was simply expanded in the longer one drawn up by M.
Guizot, was as follows:
"Inhabitants of Paris,—The Deputies, at this moment
assembled in Paris, have expressed their desire that I Proclamation of
Louis Philippe.
should betake myself to this capital to exercise there the
functions of lieutenant-general of the kingdom. I have not hesitated to come
and partake of your dangers, to place myself in the midst of this heroic
population, and use all my endeavors to preserve you from civil war and
anarchy. On entering the city of Paris, I wore with pride those glorious
colors you have resumed, and which I had myself long carried.

"The Chambers are about to assemble. They will consult on the means of
securing the reign of the laws and the maintenance of the rights of the
nation. A charter shall be henceforth a true thing.
"Louis Philippe d'Orleans."

Chapter IX.

Louis Philippe's Throne.
1830

B y the movement chronicled in the previous chapter, the Duke of Orleans
became virtually dictator. Could his dictatorship be maintained, it was
of course a death-blow to all other parties. The Republican party, weak as it
was if we consider the whole of France, was strong in the streets of Paris. It
was a matter of great moment to try to conciliate the leaders of that party. It
was soon evident that this would be no easy matter. The proclamation of the
duke was very angrily received in the streets. Loud mutterings were heard.
Those who were distributing the proclamation were fiercely assailed, and
one of the agents narrowly escaped with his life.
At length the bold resolve was adopted for the Duke of
Orleans to go in person to the Hôtel de Ville, The duke at the
Hôtel de Ville.
accompanied by an escort of Deputies. A throng of Discordant cries.
Orleanists surrounded the Palais Royal and cheered the
duke as he came out. As the procession advanced, insulting shouts began to
assail their ears. The duke was on horseback. The Place de Grève was
thronged with Republicans. Angry outcries greeted him. "He is a Bourbon,"
some shouted; "away with him! We will have nothing to do with him."
Benjamin Constant and Béranger mingled with the crowd, doing every
thing in their power to appease and calm it. It was feared, every moment,
that some pistol-shot would strike the duke from his horse. His countenance
was pale and care-worn; but there was no visible perturbation. Having with
difficulty forced his way through the angry crowd, Louis Philippe alighted
from his horse and ascended the stairs. Lafayette, who was already in heart
in sympathy with the Orleanist movement, came forth courteously to meet
him, and conducted him to the great hall of the palace. There was here a
very excited interview, the more passionate of the Orleanists and of the
Republicans coming very near to blows. But Lafayette and the most
illustrious men of the liberal party, seeing no other possible way of rescuing
France from anarchy, now openly espoused the cause of Louis Philippe.

Lafayette took the Duke of Orleans by the hand, and led
him out upon a balcony, where they were in view of the Decisive action of
Lafayette.
vast multitude swarming in the vacant space below. The
devotion of the marquis to popular rights was universally known. He could
not, in that tumultuous hour, make his voice heard. But in the use of action,
more expressive than words, he threw his arms around the neck of the duke
in an affectionate embrace. The best part of the multitude accepted this as
the indorsement of his fitness for the trust, by one in whom they could
confide. It was on this occasion that the following incident occurred:
"You know," said Lafayette to Louis Philippe, "that I am a Republican, and
that I regard the Constitution of the United States as the most perfect that
has ever existed."
"I think as you do," Louis Philippe replied. "It is impossible to have passed
two years in the United States, as I have done, and not be of that opinion.
But do you think that in the present state of France a republican government
can be adopted?"
"No," said Lafayette; "that which is necessary for France now is a throne,
surrounded by republican institutions. All must be republican."
"That is precisely my opinion," rejoined Louis Philippe.
After this scene, the duke, immensely strengthened in his position, returned
to the Palais Royal, accompanied by a decided increase of acclamations.
Still there were many murmurs. The people could not forget that he was by
birth an aristocrat and a Bourbon; that he had taken no part, either by word
or deed, in the conflict for the overthrow of the despotic throne; that,
concealed in the recesses of his palace at Neuilly, he had not shown his face
in Paris until the conflict in which they were shedding their blood was
terminated, and that then he had come merely to assume a crown.
Immediately after the withdrawal of Louis Philippe from
the Hôtel de Ville, Lafayette and his friends drew up a The social contract.
programme, or social contract, in which they endeavored
to reconcile republican institutions with the forms of a monarchy. Lafayette
himself took this contract to the Palais Royal, and submitted it to the duke.
He gave it apparently his candid consent. There were, however, Legitimists

as well as Republicans who had no faith in this union. The Abbé Gregoire is
reported to have exclaimed in disgust, "Good God, are we then to have both
a republic and a king?"
There were yet many dangers to be encountered. The word king had not
been distinctly spoken. And still the supreme power was placed in the hands
of Louis Philippe, the Duke of Orleans. It was necessary to the more full
organization of the government that he should be recognized as a sovereign.
But it was no easy matter to reconcile the populace of Paris to the idea of
placing a Bourbon at the head of the new government.
"To obviate the unfavorable impression thus produced,"
writes Alison, "the Orleans committee prepared and Singular statement.
placarded all over Paris a proclamation not a little
surprising, considering that M. Mignet and M. Thiers were members of it
—'The Duke of Orleans is not a Bourbon; he is a Valois.' A remarkable
assertion to be made, by historians, of a lineal descendant of Henry IV., and
of the brother of Louis XIV."
The leading journals had all been won over to the side of
the Orleans party. We would not intimate that any Support of the
journals.
unworthy means had been employed to secure their
support. Such men as Thiers, Guizot, Mignet, are above suspicion. They
doubtless felt, as did Lafayette, that the attempt to establish a Republic
would result only in anarchy; that it would be impossible to maintain a
Republic in a realm where the large majority of the people were
monarchists. Still, it is obvious that the wealth of a party composed of
nearly all the moneyed men in the kingdom, and whose leader was the
richest noble in France, if not in Europe, was amply sufficient to present
very persuasive influences to secure the support of any journalist who might
be wavering. The result was, that nearly all the periodicals of the kingdom
opened their broadsides against a Republic. They denounced that form of
government as the sure precursor of anarchy, pillage, and a reign of terror,
and as certain to embroil France in another war with combined Europe.
It was, indeed, greatly to be feared that the foreign dynasties, who would
not allow France to lay aside the Bourbons and place Napoleon upon the
throne, would resist, through the same devotion to the principles of

legitimacy, the "usurpation" of Louis Philippe. To conciliate them it was
necessary for the Duke of Orleans to represent that he was in sympathy with
the hereditary thrones, co-operating with them in their advocacy of
exclusive privilege, and that he was, providentially, a barrier to whom they
owed a debt of gratitude, arresting France from rushing over to democracy.
But the open avowal of these opinions would rouse the liberal party to
desperation against him.
Notwithstanding all these efforts of the journalists to
discredit republicanism in every possible way, there still Endeavors to
reconcile the
remained a democratic party in Paris among the democracy.
populace, led by very bold, impetuous, and determined
men. These leaders had great influence with a portion of the people who
could be easily roused to insurrection, which, however impotent, might still
cause the streets of Paris to run red with blood. It was deemed a matter of
much importance to win over these men. A meeting was arranged between
them and the Duke of Orleans. M. Boinvilliers, a man who understood
himself, and who was entirely unawed in the presence of dignitaries, was
the spokesman of the delegation. His scrutinizing interrogatories
embarrassed the duke exceedingly.
"To-morrow," said M. Boinvilliers, "you are to be king. What are your ideas
upon the treaties of 1815?"
By the treaties which in that year the conquerors of
Waterloo formed at Vienna, Europe was partitioned out The treaties of
1815.
among the dynasties, so as to bind the people hand and
foot, and render any future uprising in behalf of liberty almost impossible.
The River Rhine, since the days of Cæsar, had been regarded as the natural
boundary between France and Germany. Large provinces on the French
banks of the Rhine were wrested from France and placed in the hands of
Prussia, that, in case the French people should again endeavor to overthrow
the aristocratic institutions of feudal despotism, the allied dynasties might
have an unobstructed march open before them into the heart of France.
Though the Bourbons, replaced by foreign bayonets, had entered into this
arrangement for their own protection against democracy, still, the discontent
of the French people, in view of the degradation, was so great that even

Charles X. was conspiring to regain the lost boundary. According to the
testimony of his minister, Viscount Chateaubriand, he was entering into a
secret treaty with Russia to aid the czar in his designs upon Turkey, and, in
return, Russia was to aid France in regaining her lost Rhenish provinces. In
reference to these treaties of 1815 even one of the British quarterlies has
said:
"Though the most desperate efforts have been made by the English
diplomatists to embalm them as monuments of political wisdom, they
should be got under ground with all possible dispatch, for no compacts so
worthless, so wicked, so utterly subversive of the rights of humanity, are to
be found in the annals of nations."
When the question was asked of Louis Philippe, "What
are your ideas upon the treaties of 1815?" his The duke
interviewed.
embarrassment was great. Should he say he approved of
those treaties, all France would raise a cry of indignation. Should he say
that he was prepared to assail them, all the surrounding dynasties would
combine in hostility to his reign.
The reply of the duke was adroit. "I am no partisan to the treaties of 1815.
But we must avoid irritating foreign powers."
The next question was still more embarrassing, for it was to be answered
not only in the ears of this democratic delegation, but in the hearing of all
aristocratic Europe eagerly listening. "What are your opinions upon the
subject of an hereditary peerage?" Still the duke manifested no little skill in
meeting it. He replied:
"In hereditary aristocracy is the best basis of society. But if the hereditary
peerage can not maintain itself, I certainly shall not endow it. I was once a
Republican; but I am convinced that a Republic is inapplicable to such a
country as France."
The interview was unsatisfactory to the delegation, and the members retired
in disgust.[Y]
Chateaubriand, with all the ardor of his poetic and
religious instincts, was a Legitimist. As the Interesting
statement of

representative of the old Bourbon régime, he sought an Chateaubriand.
audience with the duke, hoping to induce him to decline
the crown, and to act in the interests of the expelled dynasty. In his
"Mémoires d'Outre Tombe," this illustrious man has given a minute account
of the conversation which took place. Chateaubriand was received by the
Duchess of Orleans, who very cordially invited him to take a seat near her.
Rather abruptly she commenced the conversation by saying,
"Ah, Monsieur de Chateaubriand, we are very unhappy.
If all parties could unite, we might yet be saved. What The conversation.
do you think about it?"
"Madame," Chateaubriand replied, "nothing is so easy. Charles X. and
Monsieur the Dauphin have abdicated. Henry, the Duke of Bordeaux, is
now king. The Duke of Orleans is lieutenant-general of the realm. Let him
be regent during the minority of Henry V., and all is right."
"But, Monsieur de Chateaubriand," said the duchess, "the people are very
much agitated. We shall fall into anarchy."
"Madame," replied Chateaubriand, "may I venture to inquire of you what is
the intention of the Duke of Orleans? Will he accept the crown, if it is
offered to him?"
The duchess, after a moment's hesitation, added, without replying to the
question, "Reflect, Monsieur de Chateaubriand, upon the evils to which we
are exposed. It is necessary that all good men should unite in the endeavor
to save us from a Republic. You could render great service as ambassador to
Rome, or in the ministry here, should you not wish to leave Paris."
"Madame is not ignorant," Chateaubriand rejoined, "of my devotion to the
young king and to his mother. Your royal highness could not wish that I
should give the lie to my whole life"—que je dementisse toute ma vie.
"Monsieur de Chateaubriand," replied the duchess, "you do not know my
niece. She is so frivolous. Poor Caroline! But I will send for the Duke of
Orleans. He can persuade you better than I can."
The duke soon entered, in dishevelled dress and with a countenance
expressive of great anxiety and fatigue. After a few words, which

Chateaubriand rather contemptuously records as an "idyl upon the pleasures
of country life," Chateaubriand repeated what he had said to the duchess.
The duke exclaimed, "That is just what I should like. Nothing would please
me better than to be the tutor and guardian of that child. I think just as you
do, M. Chateaubriand. To take the Duke of Bordeaux would certainly be the
best thing that could be done. I fear only that events are stronger than we."
"Stronger than we, my lord!" rejoined M.
Chateaubriand. "Are you not esteemed by all the Counsel of
Chateaubriand.
powers? Let us go and join Henry V. Call around you,
outside the walls of Paris, the Chambers and the army. At the first tidings of
your departure all this effervescence will cease, and every one will seek
shelter under your protection and enlightened power."
The duke was much embarrassed. He seemed to avoid looking
Chateaubriand in the face. With averted eyes he said, "The thing is more
difficult than you imagine. It can not be accomplished. You do not know
what peril we are in. A furious band can launch against the Chambers with
the most frightful excesses; and we have no means of defense. Be assured
that it is I alone who now hold back this menacing crowd. If the Royalist
party be not massacred, it will owe its life solely to my efforts."
M. de Chateaubriand responded in brave words, which perhaps the occasion
warranted:
"My lord, I have seen some massacres. Those who have passed through the
Revolution are inured to war. The gray mustaches are not terrified by
objects which frighten the conscripts."
These not very courteous remarks, which implied that,
though the duke might be a coward, the viscount was Termination of the
interview.
not, terminated the interview.
Chateaubriand, then the most distinguished writer and illustrious orator in
France, had prepared an "accusing and terrible speech," to be addressed to
the Chamber of Peers, pleading the cause of the vanquished dynasty, and
protesting against the Orleans usurpation.

"This news," writes Louis Blanc, "had reached the Palais Royal, which it
threw into the utmost uneasiness. Such a danger was to be averted at any
cost. Madame Adelaide saw M. Arago, and told him that he would entitle
himself to unbounded gratitude if he would see M. de Chateaubriand and
entreat him to forego his intended speech; upon which condition he should
be assured of having his place in the administration.
"M. Arago called upon the illustrious poet and submitted
to him that France had just been shaken to its inmost Remonstrance of
centre; that it was important to avoid exposing it to the M. Arago.
risk of too sudden reactions; that the Duke of Orleans would have it in his
power, on becoming king, to do much for public liberty; and that it became
a man like Viscount de Chateaubriand to abstain from making himself the
mouth-piece of the agitators at the commencement of a reign.
"He ended by telling him that a better means remained
to him to serve his country with advantage, and that Flattering offers to
Chateaubriand.
there would be no hesitation to bestow a portefeuille
upon him—that of public instruction, for example. Chateaubriand shook his
head suddenly, and replied that, of all he had just heard, that which most
touched his heart was the consideration of what was due to the interests of
France in its deeply disturbed condition; that he expected nothing, and
would accept nothing upon the ruin of his hopes; but, since his speech
might sow the seeds of rancor in his native land, he would soften down its
tenor. This singular negotiation took place on the eve of the 7th of August."
The next evening, the 8th of August, there was a meeting of the Chamber of
Peers. In the eloquent speech which M. Chateaubriand made in advocacy of
the old régime, he said;
"A king named by the Chambers, or elected by the
people, will ever be a novelty in France. I suppose they Speech of Viscount
wish liberty—above all, the liberty of the press, by Chateaubriand.
which and for which they have obtained so astonishing a victory. Well,
every new monarchy, sooner or later, will be obliged to restrain that liberty.
Was Napoleon himself able to admit it? The liberty of the press can not live
in safety but under a government which has struck its roots deep into the
hearts of men.

"A Republic is still more impracticable. In the existing state of our morals,
and in our relations with the adjoining states, such a government is out of
the question. The first difficulty would be to bring the French to any
unanimous opinion upon the subject. What right have the people of Paris to
impose a government, by their vote, on the people of Marseilles? What right
have they to constrain any other town to receive the rulers which they have
chosen, or the form of government which they have adopted? Shall we have
one Republic, or twenty Republics? a federal union, or a commonwealth
one and indivisible?
"Charles X. and his son are dethroned, or have abdicated, as you have
heard. But the throne is not thereby vacant. After them a child is called to
the succession; and who will venture to condemn his innocence? I know
that in removing that child it is said you establish the sovereignty of the
people. Vain illusion! which proves that in the march of intellect our old
democrats have not made greater advances than the partisans of royalty. It
were easy to show that men may be as free and freer under a Monarchy than
a Republic. After all I have said, done, and written for the Bourbons, I
should be the basest of the human race if I denied them when, for the third
and last time, they are directing their steps towards exile."[Z]
On the morning of the next day, the 9th, the Chamber of Deputies met at the
Palais Bourbon. It was a very exciting scene, and strong opposition was
manifested against proclaiming the Duke of Orleans king. After an angry
debate the motion was carried, that,
"Considering that the king, Charles X., his royal
highness Louis Antoine, dauphin, and all the members Resolve passed by
the Deputies.
of the elder branch of the royal family, are at this
moment quitting French territory, the throne is declared to be vacant, de
facto and de jure, and that it is indispensably needful to provide for the
same."
The friends of the duke felt that their only hope consisted in driving the
question to an immediate decision. The Chamber of Deputies had no legal
authority to elect a king. M. Fleury demanded that the electoral colleges
should be invoked to elect a new assembly, with special powers delegated
to the Deputies to elect a king. The demand was not listened to. M. de

Corcelles urged that the question should be submitted to the people, that the
voice of universal suffrage might decide what should be the form of
government for France, and who should be the sovereign. This proposition
was rejected. The venerable Labbey de Pompières then demanded that the
voters should inscribe their names and their votes in a register. This they
had not courage to do; for, in case of the return of the Bourbons, they would
lose their heads.
"Thus," writes Louis Blanc, "the crown of France was voted as a simple
matter of by-law regulation."
After some amendments of the charter, the vote was
taken. It was a tumultuous scene, and there is some little Louis Philippe
chosen king.
discrepancy in the number of votes given as the result of
the ballot. Louis Blanc gives the result as follows:

Number of voters 252
White balls 229
Black balls 33

"Thus," he adds, "229 Deputies, who in ordinary times would have formed
a majority of but two voices, had modified the constitution, pronounced the
forfeiture of one dynasty, and erected a new one."
France contained between thirty and forty million inhabitants. Two hundred
and twenty-nine Deputies, with no delegated authority to do so, decided
upon the form of government for these millions, and chose their sovereign.
When, several years after, the throne of Louis Philippe
was overthrown, an appeal to universal suffrage re- Subsequent vote for
established the Empire, and placed the crown upon the Napoleon.
brow of Napoleon III. In this act the voice of the nation was heard. The vote
was taken throughout the eighty-six departments of France, in Algiers, in
the army, and in the navy. The result was as follows:

Affirmative 7,844,180
votes
Negative 253,145

Irregular 63,326
—————
Total 8,160,651

The action of the Deputies in choosing Louis Philippe king greatly
exasperated the Democrats. They endeavored to stir up insurrection in the
streets; but the journals were against them, and they had neither leaders of
any repute, organization, or money. A procession, four abreast, marched
through the streets to the Palais Royal, to inform Louis Philippe of his
election by their body to the throne of France. The newly elected king
feelingly replied:
"I receive with deep emotion the declaration you present
to me. I regard it as the expression of the national will; Reply of the Duke
of Orleans.
and it appears to me conformable to the political
principles I have all my life professed. Full of remembrances which have
always made me wish that I might never be called to a throne, and
habituated to the peaceful life I led in my family, I can not conceal from you
all the feelings that agitate my heart in this great conjuncture. But there is
one which overbears all the rest—that is, the love of my country. I feel what
it prescribes to me, and I will do it."
According to Alison, in the Chamber of Peers eighty-nine voted "the
address to the Duke of Orleans to accept the throne, while ten voted against
it." But there was great informality in all these hurried proceedings. "We
will not," writes Lamartine, "enter into the details of these gradual
approaches to the throne during the five days which preceded the election
of one who had no title, by a Parliament which had no mission, to a royalty
which had no rights."[AA]
In the same spirit Sir Archibald Alison writes: "Thus did
a small minority, not exceeding a third of either Testimony of
Alison.
Chamber, at the dictation of a clique in the antechambers
of the Duke of Orleans, dispose of the crown to a stranger to the legitimate
line, without either consulting the nation or knowing what form of
government it desired."[AB] The two Chambers hurriedly prepared a
constitution, to which Louis Philippe gave his assent. The ceremony of

inauguration—it could scarcely be called coronation—took place with
much pomp, in the Chamber of Deputies, on the 9th of August, 1830.
"Gentlemen, peers, and deputies," said the Duke of Orleans, "I have read
with great attention the declaration of the Chamber of Deputies and the
adhesion of the peers, and I have weighed and meditated upon all its
expressions. I accept, without restriction or reserve, the clauses and
engagements which that declaration contains, and the title of King of the
French, which it confers upon me." He then took the following oath:
"In the presence of God, I swear to observe faithfully the
Constitutional Charter, with the modifications contained The inauguration.
in the declaration; to govern only by the laws and
according to the laws; to render fair and equal justice to every one
according to his right, and to act in every thing in no other view but that of
the interest, the happiness, and the glory of the French people."
The hall resounded with shouts of "Vive le Roi!" The new-made sovereign,
with a splendid cortége, retired, to take up his residence in the Tuileries as
King of the French. The Revolution was consummated. The throne of Louis
Philippe was erected.

Chapter X.

The Adventures of the Duchess
de Berri.

1831-1836

L ouis Philippe had scarcely taken his seat upon the throne ere he found
himself involved in apparently inextricable embarrassments. Legitimists
and Republicans were alike hostile to his reign. That he might conciliate the
surrounding dynasties, and save himself from such a coalition of crowned
heads as crushed Napoleon I., he felt constrained to avow political
principles and adopt measures which exasperated the Republicans, and yet
did not reconcile the Legitimists to what they deemed his usurpation.
Notwithstanding the most rigid censorship of the press France has ever
known, the Government was assailed in various ways, continuously and
mercilessly, with rancor which could scarcely be surpassed.
On the 1st of June, 1832, General Lamarque died—one
of the most distinguished generals of the Empire. He had Death of General
Lamarque.
gained great popularity by his eloquent speeches in the
tribune in favor of the rights of the people. Napoleon, at St. Helena, spoke
of him in the highest terms of commendation. His death occurred just at the
moment when Paris was on the eve of an insurrection, and it was
immediately resolved to take advantage of the immense gathering which
would be assembled at his funeral to raise the banner of revolt. A meeting of
all the opposition had just been held at the house of the banker, M. Lafitte,
who had been so influential an agent in crowning the Duke of Orleans. A
committee had been appointed, consisting of Lafayette, Odillon Barrot, M.
Manguin, and others of similar influence and rank, to draw up an address to
the nation. All the leaders of the popular committees were very busy in
preparation for the outbreak, and arms were secretly distributed and officers
appointed, that they might act with efficiency should they be brought into
collision with the royal troops.

The funeral took place on the 5th of June. It was one of
the most imposing spectacles Paris had ever witnessed— The funeral.
assembling, apparently, the whole population of the
metropolis, with thousands from the provinces. A magnificent car,
decorated with tri-color flags, bore the remains. The procession moved from
the house of the deceased through the Rue St. Honoré to the Church of the
Madeleine, and thence, by way of the teeming Boulevards, to the Place of
the Bastile, where several funeral orations were pronounced, and where the
body was received, to be taken to its place of burial in the south of France.
All the Republican and Democratic clubs turned out in full strength. The
Chamber of Deputies was present. Banners, inscribed with exciting popular
devices, floated in the air.
The police of Paris was maintained by two thousand
municipal guards. In anticipation of an outbreak, the Strength of the
Government had summoned into the squares of the city royal forces.
an additional force of twenty-two thousand troops, consisting of eighteen
thousand infantry, four thousand cavalry, and eighty pieces of cannon. And,
as an additional precaution, there was a reserve of thirty thousand troops
stationed in the vicinity of Paris who could in an hour be brought into the
streets. Apparently here was ample force to crush any uprising of the
populace.
But, on the other hand, the populace could easily rally an enthusiastic mass
of one hundred thousand men. Large numbers of these were accustomed, in
their clubs, to act in concert. Their leaders were appointed—each one
having his special duty assigned to him. Not a few of these were veteran
soldiers, who had served their term in the army, and there were military
men of distinction to lead them. The forces, therefore, which might be
brought into collision were not very unequal.
The immense procession commenced its movement at
ten o'clock in the morning. The whole city was in Movement of the
excitement. All hearts were oppressed with the procession.
conviction that tumultuous scenes might be witnessed before the sun should
go down. When the head of the procession reached the Place Vendôme, it
was turned from its contemplated course, so as to pass up through the Place
and the Rue de la Paix to the Boulevards, thus marching beneath the

shadow of the magnificent column of Austerlitz, which has given the Place
Vendôme world-wide renown.
Cries of Vive la République began now to be heard. A hundred and fifty
pupils of the celebrated military school, the Polytechnic, joined the
procession, shouting "Vive la Liberte!" These shouts were soon followed by
the still more ominous cry, "A bas Louis Philippe!" "Vive Lafayette!" The
storm of popular excitement was rapidly rising.
When the funeral-car had reached its point of destination, near the bridge of
Austerlitz, where the remains were to be transferred to those who would
carry them to their distant place of burial, several brief funeral orations
were pronounced, adroitly calculated still more intensely to arouse popular
feeling. A Polish refugee, General Uminski, in an impassioned harangue,
said:
"Lamarque, you were the worthy representative of the
people. You were ours. You belonged to the human race. Speech of General
All people who love freedom will shed tears at your Uminski.
tomb. In raising your noble voice for Poland, you served the cause of all
nations as well as France. You served the cause of liberty—that of the
interests dearest to humanity. You defended it against the Holy Alliance,
which grew up on the tomb of Poland, and which will never cease to
threaten the liberties of the world till the crime which cemented it shall have
been effaced by the resurrection of its unfortunate victim."[AC]

THE BARRICADE.
The agitation was now indescribable. General Lafayette
was urged to repair to the Hôtel de Ville and organize a Advance of the
provisional government. The crowd unharnessed his cuirassiers.
horses and began, with shouts, to draw him in his carriage through the
streets. Suddenly the cry was raised, "The Dragoons!" A mounted squadron
of cuirassiers, with glittering swords and coats of mail, in a dense mass
which filled the streets, came clattering down at the full charge upon the
multitude, cutting right and left. Blood flowed in torrents, and the wounded
and the dead were strewn over the pavements. The battle was begun.
Fiercely it raged. Barricades were instantly constructed, which arrested the
progress of the troops. As by magic, fire-arms appeared in the hands of the
populace. Notwithstanding the general tumult and consternation, order

emerged from the chaos. Every house became a citadel for the insurgents,
and two armies were found confronting each other.
The king and his council, in session at the Tuileries, were greatly alarmed.
At three o'clock the tidings were brought that one-third of the metropolis,
protected by barricades, was in the possession of the insurgents, and that the
aspect of affairs was threatening in the extreme. Orders were transmitted for
all the royal troops within thirty miles of Paris to hasten to the capital. The
night passed in tumult and terror. Armed bands were surging through the
streets. The solemn boom of the tocsin floated mournfully through the air.
The shoutings of the populace, and the frequent explosions of artillery and
musketry, added to the general dismay and gloom. There was no sleep in
Paris that night. Fifty thousand troops of the line and fifty thousand of the
National Guard were marching to their appointed places of rendezvous in
preparation for the deadly strife which the morrow would certainly usher in.
The populace were no less busy, organizing in military bands, collecting
arms, throwing up barricades, and seizing important posts. Both parties
were alike aware that the Government could place but little reliance upon
the National Guard, as many of them were known to be in sympathy with
the people.
A provisional government had in reality, as it were,
organized itself. While Louis Philippe and his ministers The Provisional
Government.
were in session at the Tuileries, Lafayette, M. Lafitte,
and other distinguished men, who but a few months before had placed
Louis Philippe upon the throne, were in secret assembly at the mansion of
M. Lafitte, issuing orders for the overthrow of that throne. Their orders
were received by the leaders of the populace, and thus there was unity and
efficiency of action.[AD]
During the night there were several bloody conflicts, in which the populace
were generally successful. With their head-quarters at the Porte St. Martin,
and pushing out their intrenchments on both sides of the river, before the
dawn a large part of the city was under their control. The Government
forces were mainly concentrated at the Tuileries, the Louvre, and the Hôtel
de Ville.

Marshal Soult was in command of the royal troops.
Wherever his sympathies might be in the peculiar Marshal Soult in
emergency which had risen, he felt bound to be true to command.
his oath and his colors. By ten o'clock in the morning he had eighty
thousand men under his command, including six thousand cavalry, with one
hundred and twenty pieces of artillery. Strong as this force was, it was none
too strong for the occasion. There was great consternation at the Tuileries.
To prevent the soldiers of the National Guard from passing over to the
people, they were intermingled with the troops of the line.
The conflict which ensued was one of the most terrible
ever recorded in the history of insurrections. Thirty The conflict.
thousand compact royal troops, cavalry, infantry, and
artillery, slowly marched along the Boulevards, battering down the
barricades, and sweeping the streets with musketry and grape-shot. Another
band of thirty thousand traversed, in an equally sanguinary march, the
streets which bordered the banks of the Seine. They were to meet at the
bridge of Austerlitz.
The houses of Paris are of stone, five or six stories high. Each house
became a citadel filled with insurgents, which kept up a deadly fire upon the
advancing columns. The slaughter on both sides was dreadful; on either side
was equal courage and desperation. A very bloody struggle took place at the
Cloister of St. Meri, which strong position the insurgents held with the
utmost determination.
"The tocsin," writes Sir Archibald Alison, "incessantly
sounded from the Church of St. Meri to call the The conflict at St.
Republicans to the decisive point; and they were not Meri.
wanting to the appeal. Young men, children of twelve years of age, old men
tottering on the verge of the grave, flocked to the scene of danger and stood
side by side with the manly combatants. Never had there been, in the long
annals of revolutionary conflicts, such universal enthusiasm and determined
resolution on the part of the Republicans."
Before the terrific fire from the windows and from behind the barricade the
whole column of royal troops at first recoiled and fled back in confusion.
But heavy artillery was brought forward; a breach was battered through the

barricade; shells were thrown beyond to scatter the defenders, while an
incessant storm of bullets penetrated every window at which an assailant
appeared. The royal troops rushed through the breach. Quarter was neither
given nor asked. On both sides the ferocity of demons was exhibited. This
closed the conflict. The insurrection was crushed. The royal troops admitted
a loss in killed and wounded of 417. The loss of the insurgents can never be
known, as both the dead and the wounded were generally conveyed away
and secreted by their friends.
On the morning of the 6th, the leaders of the Liberal
party were sanguine of success. But the unexpected The insurrection
display of governmental force rendered the revolt quelled.
hopeless. The leaders, who had been acting in entire secrecy, dispersed, and
Alison says that they quietly slipped over to the other side, and sought only
to mitigate the victor's wrath. A deputation was appointed by some of the
citizens to call upon the king, congratulate him upon his victory, and
implore him to temper justice with mercy.
The king angrily replied, "Who is responsible for the blood which has been
shed? The miserable wretches who took advantage of the funeral of General
Lamarque to attack the Government by open force. The cannons you have
heard have demolished the barricades of St. Meri. The revolt is terminated.
I do not know why you should suppose that violent measures are to be
adopted; but, rely upon it, they are loudly called for. I know that the press is
constantly endeavoring to destroy me; but it is by the aid of falsehood. I ask
you, is there any person of whom you have ever heard, against whom a
greater torrent of calumny has been poured forth than against myself?"[AE]
The next morning a decree was issued ordering all the
printing-presses opposed to the Government to be Severity of the
Government.
broken to pieces, and substituting courts-martial instead
of the ordinary tribunals to try all cases connected with the insurrection.
The Government regarded the movement as a combined attempt of the
Republicans and the Legitimists. Hence Garnier Pagés, the Democrat, and
Viscount Chateaubriand, the Bourbonist, found themselves arrested as
accomplices in the same rebellion.

Three days after, on the 10th of June, Chateaubriand wrote from his prison
to M. Bertin, editor of Le Journal des Débats, that he had refused to take
the oath of allegiance to Louis Philippe, first because his government was
not founded upon legitimate succession, and second, that it was not founded
on popular sovereignty.
A few weeks after this, upon his release, Chateaubriand visited the young
prince, Louis Napoleon, who, in studious retirement, was residing with his
mother, Queen Hortense, in their beautiful retreat at Arnemberg, on the
Lake of Constance. The prince had just published a work entitled "Political
Reveries," in which he took the ground that the voice of the people is the
legitimate foundation of all government; that the people, in the exercise of
universal suffrage, should decide upon their form of government and
choose their rulers. Chateaubriand read this treatise with much interest,
suggested the substitution of the word nation for that of people, and became
personally the warm friend of the young prince, though still adhering to the
doctrine of legitimacy and to his allegiance to the Bourbons.[AF]
The government of Louis Philippe pursued and punished
with the greatest energy those engaged in the revolt. Numerous
prosecutions.
"The number of the prosecutions," writes Alison,
"exceeded any thing previously witnessed, not merely in French, but in
European history. The restrictions complained of during the Restoration
were as nothing compared to it. From the accession of Louis Philippe to the
1st of October, a period of a little more than two years, there occurred in
France 281 seizures of journals and 251 judgments upon them. No less than
81 journals had been condemned, of which 41 were in Paris alone. The total
number of months of imprisonment inflicted on editors of journals during
this period was 1226, and the amount of fines levied 347,550 francs
[$80,000]. This is perhaps the hottest warfare, without the aid of the
censorship, ever yet waged, during so short a period, against the liberty of
the press. The system of Louis Philippe was to bring incessant prosecutions
against the parties responsible for journals, without caring much whether
they were successful or not, hoping that he should wear them out by the
trouble and expense of conducting their defenses."[AG]
Thus terminated the Republican attempt to overthrow the throne of Louis
Philippe. And now let us turn to an attempt of the Legitimists to accomplish

the same end. About eleven months after the
enthronement of Louis Philippe, in March, 1831, the The Duchess de
Berri.
Duchess de Berri, having obtained the reluctant consent
of Charles X., set out from Scotland for the south of France, to promote a
rising of the Bourbon party there in favor of the Duke of Bordeaux—whom
we shall hereafter call by his present title, the Count de Chambord—and to
march upon Paris. The Legitimist party was rich, and was supported
generally by the clergy and by the peasantry. In the south of France and in
La Vendée that party was very strong.
"The idea of crossing the sea at the head of faithful
paladins; of landing after the perils and adventures of an Statement of Louis
unexpected voyage, in a country of knights-errant; of Blanc.
eluding, by a thousand disguises, the vigilance of the watchful enemies
through whom she had to pass; of wandering, a devoted mother and
banished queen, from hamlet to hamlet, and chateau to chateau; of testing
humanity, high and low, on the romantic side, and, at the end of a victorious
conspiracy, of rearing in France the standard of the monarchy—all this was
too dazzling not to captivate a young and high-spirited woman, bold
through very ignorance of the obstacles she had to surmount, heroic in the
hour of danger through levity; able to endure all but ennui, and ready to lull
any misgivings with the casuistry of a mother's love."[AH]
The ex-king, Charles X., who, having abdicated, had no power to nominate
to the regency, still issued a decree, dated Edinburgh, March 8th, 1831, by
which he authorized "a proclamation in favor of Henry V., in which it shall
be announced that Madame, Duchess de Berri, is to be regent of the
kingdom during the minority of her son."[AI]
The duchess, assuming the title of Countess of Segana,
crossed over to Holland, and, ascending the Rhine and The reception of the
traversing the Tyrol, safely reached Genoa. The King of duchess in Italy.
Sardinia, Charles Albert, received her kindly, and loaned her a million
francs. But the French consul discovered her through her disguise, and by
order of the French Court the Sardinian king felt constrained to request her
to withdraw from his domains.

The Duke of Modena received her hospitably, and assigned to her use the
palace of Massa, about three miles from the sea. Here, with confidential
advisers, she matured her plans. Secret agents were sent to all the principal
cities in France, to organize royalist committees and to prepare for a general
uprising. The plan was for the insurrection to break out first in the west of
France, to be immediately followed by all the southern provinces.
While affairs were in this posture, a very curious
measure was adopted by the Government, which merits Abolition of the
brief notice. The Chamber of Deputies, composed of the peerage.
bourgeoisie, voted the abolition of the hereditary peerage. This was a
constitutional amendment, which needed to be ratified by the Chamber of
Peers. But the Peers were not disposed thus to commit suicide. Louis
Philippe had been placed upon the throne by the bourgeoisie. The nobles
were Bourbonists. He felt constrained to support the measures of his
friends. He therefore created, by royal ordinance, thirty-six new peers to
vote the abolition of the peerage, and thus the vote was carried.[AJ] A vote
was also passed banishing forever from the soil of France every member of
the elder branch of the house of Bourbon. These measures, of course,
exasperated the friends of the ancient régime, and rendered them more
willing to enter into a conspiracy for the dethronement of the Citizen King.
At Massa the duchess had assembled several prominent men to aid her with
their advice and co-operation. But, as was to have been expected, these men
soon quarrelled among themselves. The brother of the Duchess de Berri was
now King of Naples. But he did not dare to afford his sister an asylum, as
the French Government threatened, in that case, immediately to send a fleet
and an army from Toulon and bombard the city of Naples.
Proclamations and ordinances were prepared, to be widely distributed. A
provisional government, to be established in Paris, was organized, on paper,
to consist of the Marquis de Pastoret, the Duke de Bellino, the Viscount
Chateaubriand, and the Count de Kergarlaz.
In the mean time the officers of the Government were
watching with the utmost vigilance every movement in Vigilance and
severity of the
the south of France, and punishing with terrible severity, Government.
by shooting, bayoneting, and hanging, and often without

trial, those who were suspected of being implicated in the anticipated
Bourbon uprising. The duchess was much deceived by the flattering reports
she was receiving from her friends. Though they correctly described the
intense dissatisfaction of the country with the government of Louis
Philippe, they greatly exaggerated the numbers and the zeal of those whom
they supposed to be ready to rally around the banner of the Bourbons.
The 24th of April, 1832, was fixed for the departure. The
utmost secrecy was necessary, as the spies of Louis A midnight
Philippe were all around. Arrangements had been made adventure.
for a small steamer, the Carlo Alberto, in the darkness of the night to glide
into the harbor, take on board the duchess and her suite, and convey them to
Marseilles. It was given out that the duchess was about to visit Florence. At
nightfall of the 24th a travelling carriage, with four post-horses, was drawn
up before the ducal palace. The duchess, with one gentleman and three
ladies, entered, and in the darkness the carriage was rapidly driven a short
distance from the gate of Massa, when, upon some pretext, it stopped for a
moment beneath the shadow of a high wall. While some directions were
given, to engage the attention of the postilion, the duchess, with
Mademoiselle Lebeschu and M. de Brissac, glided out of the door
unperceived, when the door was shut and the horses again set out upon the
gallop for Florence.
The duchess and her friends stealthily moved along
under the shadow of the wall, until they reached a The embarkation.
secluded spot upon the sea-shore where the steamer was
expected. The major of a body of troops in that vicinity joined them, with a
lantern, as a signal to guide the boat from the expected steamer to the shore.
Here they remained, in breathless silence and in much anxiety, for an hour.
Just as the clocks in the distant churches were tolling the hour of midnight,
a feeble light was seen far away over the water. It was the Carlo Alberto, the
steamer for which they were waiting. Rapidly it approached; a boat was
sent ashore. The Princess Marie Caroline, worn out with cares and
anxieties, or—which is the more probable—possessed of that gay,
untroubled spirit which no cares could agitate, was wrapped in her cloak
and soundly asleep on the sand. Her companions did not awake her till the
boat was about to touch the beach. It was three o'clock in the morning. The
duchess and her suite, composing a party of seven—Mademoiselle

Lebeschu being her only lady attendant—were soon transferred from the
shore to the deck of the Carlo Alberto.
All were conscious that the enterprise upon which they had embarked was
perilous in the extreme. Its success would greatly depend upon what is
called chance. The duchess appeared calm and cheerful, as if determined
not to doubt of a triumphant result, and manifestly resolved to wipe from
the Bourbon name the charge of pusillanimity which it has so often
incurred.
To avoid the French cruisers the Carlo Alberto kept far
out to sea, and did not reach Marseilles until midnight of The night storm.
the 28th. The party was to be landed near the light-
house, where a rendezvous had been fixed for the small but determined
band who were to meet her there. The moment the steamer cast anchor the
signal of two lanterns was raised, one at the foremast head and the other at
the mizzen-mast head, which signal was instantly responded to from the
shore. Dark clouds had gathered in the sky, and the moanings of a rising
gale and the dashings of the surge added to the gloom of the hour. The
gentlemen who were to accompany Marie Caroline to the shore were
dressed in the disguise of fishermen. The sea had become so high that it was
with difficulty and peril that the party could embark. At one time the boat
was dashed so furiously against one of the paddle-boxes of the steamer that
the destruction of all on board seemed inevitable. Through all these trying
scenes the fragile, sylph-like duchess manifested intrepidity which excited
the wonder and admiration of every beholder. The little skiff which was to
convey her to the beach soon disappeared in the darkness of that stormy
sea.
The landing occurred without accident, and Marie
Caroline scaled the rocks, along a path which tried the The landing at
Marseilles.
nerves even of the boldest smugglers, till she reached a
temporary hut which had been reared to afford her shelter. The vigilance,
however, of the Government police had not been entirely eluded. That very
evening the authorities, in some way, received the rumor that the duchess
had landed, or was about to land, at Marseilles, to commence the uprising
there. Immediate and vigorous preparations were adopted to quell it. The
force of every military post was doubled.

A band of about two thousand of her partisans was the
next morning assembled at an appointed rendezvous in The insurrection.
the city. They ran up the white banner of the Bourbons
upon the spire of St. Laurient, and began shouting vociferously, "Vive Henri
Cinq!"—hoping to excite a general insurrection, and that the whole
populace of the city would join them. They did create intense agitation, and
wonder, and bewilderment. Men, women, and children ran to and fro, and
the alarm-bells were violently rung from the steeples. The duchess was still
in her hut, waiting for the favorable moment in which to make her
appearance. When she saw the Bourbon flag unfurled from St. Laurient, she
was deluded by the hope that the success of the enterprise was secured.
But soon the regular troops appeared in solid battalions. The crowd fled
before them. A few of the insurgents who attempted to make a stand were
dispersed by a bayonet charge, their leaders captured, and the Bourbon flag
disappeared! By one o'clock it was all over—the émeute had utterly and
hopelessly failed!
Her despairing friends urged her immediately to repair to the steamer, and
to take refuge with the Bourbons of Spain. Heroically she replied, "I am in
France now, and in France will I remain." We have not space here to enter
into the detail of her wonderful adventures, which she seemed to enjoy as if
she were merely engaged in a school-girl frolic. Probably she felt assured
that if she were taken prisoner, her royal blood, her relationship with the
queen, as her niece, and the sympathy of most of the courts of Europe in
what they deemed the righteousness of her cause, would save her from any
very severe treatment.
"Disguised as a peasant-boy, and accompanied by no
one but Marshal Bourmont, also in disguise, she set out Wild adventures.
on foot to walk across France, through fields and by-
paths, a distance of four hundred miles, to the department of La Vendée,
where the Bourbon party was in its greatest strength. The first night they
lost their way in the woods. Utterly overcome by exhaustion, the duchess
sank down at the foot of a tree and fell asleep, while her faithful attendant
stood sentinel at her side.

"There is nothing in the pages of romance more wild
than the adventures of this frivolous yet heroic woman. "Little Peter."
She slept in sheds, encountered a thousand hair-breadth
escapes, and, with great sagacity, eluded the numerous bands who were
scouring the country in quest of her. At one time, in an emergency, she
threw herself upon the protection of a Republican, boldly entering his
house, and saying, 'I am the Duchess of Berri: will you give me shelter?' He
did not betray her. After such a journey of fifty days, she reached, on the
17th of May, the chateau of Plassac, near Saintes, in La Vendée, where a
general rising of her friends was appointed for the 24th. Nearly all the
Vendéan chiefs were then awaiting the summons. On the 21st of May, the
duchess—still in the costume of a young peasant, presenting the aspect of a
remarkably graceful and beautiful boy, and taking the name of 'Little
Peter'—repaired on horseback to an appointed rendezvous at Meslier."[AK]
Here her disappointment was bitter. The Government troops were on the
alert, fully prepared for any conflict. Her own friends were despairing.
There was no enthusiasm manifested to enter upon an enterprise where
defeat and death seemed inevitable. Passionately she entreated her friends
not to abandon her, delineating the great risks she had run. It was all in vain.
No general uprising could be secured. There were a few despairing
conflicts, but the feeble bands of the insurgents rapidly melted away before
the concentration of the Government troops.
Still, the duchess herself escaped capture. Accompanied
by a single guide, and apparently insensible to hardship Perilous
wanderings.
or peril, she wandered through the woods, often sleeping
in the open air, and occasionally carried upon the shoulders of her attendant
through the marshes.
"On one occasion," writes Alison, "when the pursuit was hottest, she found
shelter in a ditch covered with bushes, while the soldiers in pursuit of her
searched in vain, and probed with their bayonets every thicket in the wood
with which it was environed. The variety, the fatigue, the dangers of her
life, had inexpressible charms for a person of her ardent and romantic
disposition. She often said, 'Don't speak to me of suffering. I was never so
happy at Naples or Paris as now.'"[AL]

She took great pleasure in a variety of disguises. Sometimes, in the
picturesque costume of a peasant-girl, with coarse wooden shoes on her
little feet, she would enter a town filled with Royalist troops, and converse
gayly with the gendarmes who guarded the gates. The coasts of France were
so watched by Governmental vessels as to render her escape by water
almost impossible. She consequently decided to seek a retreat in Nantes, a
city in which she had so few adherents that no one would suspect her taking
refuge there.
In the disguise of a peasant-girl, with one female companion, she entered
the city, and was concealed by a few friends who perilled their lives in so
doing. For several months she eluded all the efforts of the Government to
find her. In the mean time, the partisans of the duchess were pursued and
punished with the most terrible severity. No mercy was shown them. The
duchess, from her retreat, kept up a lively correspondence with her friends,
still hoping that fortune might turn in her favor. Pleading in behalf of these
men, she wrote as follows to her aunt, the queen:
"Whatever consequences may result for me, from the
position in which I have placed myself while fulfilling Letter to the queen.
my duties as a mother, I will never speak to you,
madame, of my own interests. But brave men have become involved in
danger for my son's sake, and I can not forbear from attempting whatever
may be done with honor, in order to save them.
"I therefore entreat my aunt, whose goodness of heart and religious
sentiment are known to me, to exert all her credit in their behalf. The bearer
of this letter will furnish details respecting their situation. He will state that
the judges given them are men against whom they have fought.
"Notwithstanding the actual difference in our positions, a volcano is under
your feet, madame, as you know. I knew your alarm—your very natural
alarm—at a period when I was in safety, and I was not insensible to it. God
alone knows what He destines for us, and perhaps you will one day thank
me for having had confidence in your goodness, and for having given you
an opportunity of exerting it in behalf of my unfortunate friends. Rely on
my gratitude. I wish you happiness, madame, for I think too highly of you

to believe it possible that you can be happy in your present situation. Marie
Caroline."
This letter was conveyed to the queen at St. Cloud. She The letter returned.
probably read it; but it was immediately returned to the
bearer, who was in waiting, with the declaration that the queen could not
receive it. Five months had now elapsed since the duchess entered Nantes.
It is by some supposed that Louis Philippe did not wish to have her arrested.
He would be fearfully embarrassed to know what to do with her. It would
hardly do to restore her to liberty while her partisans were cruelly punished
with death. It was not easy to decide upon the tribunal which would sit in
judgment upon her. The peerage would have recoiled with horror from
passing judgment upon a princess, who endeavored to gain the throne for a
child, who was entitled to that throne by the avowed principles of
legitimacy.
A renegade Jew, by the name of Deutz, at length betrayed her. By the most
villainous treachery he obtained an interview with the duchess, and then
informed the police of the place of her retreat. It was the 6th of November.
In the following words Louis Blanc describes the preparations made for her
arrest:
"The first communication between M. Thiers and Deutz
took place under the following circumstances: M. Thiers Note from Louis
one day received a letter wherein a stranger begged him Blanc.
The traitor Deutz.
to repair in the evening to the Champs Elysées,
promising to make him a communication of the very highest importance. At
the appointed hour he proceeded to the Champs Elysées, with a brace of
pistols ready in his coat-pockets. At the spot indicated in the letter he
perceived a man standing, who seemed agitated with fear and doubt. He
approached and accosted this man. It was Deutz. A conference was opened,
which ended in a base crime. The next night, by an arrangement of the
police, Deutz was introduced into the office of the Minister of the Interior.
'You can make a good thing of this,' said M. Thiers. The Jew shook with
agitation at the idea; his limbs trembled under him, and his countenance
changed. The price of the treachery was settled without difficulty."

No sooner had Deutz withdrawn than bayonets glittered in every direction,
and commissioners of police rushed into the house, with pistols in their
hands. The duchess had barely time to take refuge, with three companions,
in a small recess behind the fire-place, which was adroitly concealed by an
iron plate back of the chimney. The police commenced a minute search,
calling masons in to aid them. The walls were sounded with hammers,
articles of furniture moved and broken open. Night came while the search
continued. The space in which they were confined was very narrow, with
but one small aperture for the admission of air. They barely escaped
suffocation by applying their mouths in turn to this hole, but three inches in
diameter.
The gendarmes, fully satisfied that the duchess must be
concealed somewhere in the house, took possession of Discovery and
the room and lighted a fire in the chimney, which arrest.
converted their hiding-place into a hot oven. The heat soon became
insupportable. The iron plate had become red-hot. One of the prisoners
kicked it down, and said, "We are coming out; take away the fire." The fire
was instantly brushed away, and the duchess and her companions, after
having endured sixteen hours of almost insupportable torture, came forth in
great exhaustion, and yet the duchess almost gayly said, referring to the
ancient martyr roasted upon a gridiron,
"Gentlemen, you have made war upon me à la St. Laurent. I have nothing
to reproach myself with. I have only discharged the duty of a mother to gain
the inheritance of her son."[AM]
The captive was treated with the respect due to her rank.
After a brief confinement at Nantes, she was transferred Imprisonment at
Blaye.
to the citadel of Blaye, one of the most gloomy of
prisons, on the left bank of the Gironde. All the effects of this princess of
royal birth, who had entered France as regent, were tied up in a pocket-
handkerchief. Measures were apparently adopted to keep her in close
captivity, without trial, for a long time. The fortress was thoroughly manned
with nine hundred men, and put in a state of defense, as if anticipating a
siege. Three gun-boats were stationed in the river. The small building
within the walls of the citadel, which was assigned to the duchess, was
surrounded with a double row of palisades ten or twelve feet high. The

windows were covered with strong iron bars, and even the apertures of the
chimneys were closed with an iron grating. Even the gay spirit of the
princess was subdued by the glooms in which she was enveloped.
Still, from many eminent men of her own party she received gratifying
proofs of fidelity. Chateaubriand issued an eloquent pamphlet which won
the applause of the Legitimists throughout Europe. In this he had the
boldness to exclaim, "Madame, your son is my king." In a letter of
condolence to the princess, in which he offered his professional services in
her defense, he said:
"Madame,—You will deem it inconsiderate, obtrusive, that at such a
moment as this I entreat you to grant me a favor, but it is the high ambition
of my life. I would earnestly solicit to be numbered among your defenders.
I have no personal title to the great favor I solicit of your new grandeur, but
I venture to implore it in memory of a prince of whom you deigned to name
me historian, and in the name of my family's blood. It was my brother's
glorious destiny to die with his illustrious grandfather, M. de Malesherbes,
the defender of Louis XVI., the same day, the same hour, for the same
cause, and upon the same scaffold. Chateaubriand."
But a terrible secret was soon whispered abroad, which
overwhelmed the princess with shame, and which filled The terrible secret.
the court of Louis Philippe with joy, as it silenced all
voices which would speak in her favor. It became evident that the duchess
was again to become a mother. For a princess, the child, sister, and mother
of a king, secretly to marry some unknown man, was deemed as great a
degradation as such a person could be guilty of. The shame was as great as
it would be in New York for the daughter of a millionaire secretly to marry
a negro coachman. It consigned the princess to irremediable disgrace. But
the situation in which she found herself compelled her to acknowledge her
marriage. The universal assumption was that she had not been married.
Secrecy divests marriage of its sanctity.
The sufferings through which the princess passed were awful. No pen can
describe them. Could she but be released from prison, her shame might be
concealed. Her tears and entreaties were all unavailing. Louis Philippe,
unmindful that the princess was the niece of his wife, deemed that the

interests of his dynasty required that she should be held with a firm grasp
until the birth of her child should consign her to ignominy from which there
could be no redemption.
On the 22d of February, 1833, the duchess placed in the hands of General
Bugeaud, governor of the citadel of Blaye, the following declaration:
"Urged by circumstances, and by the measures ordered
by the Government, though I had the strongest reason to The marriage
keep my marriage secret, I think it a duty to myself and announcement.
my children to declare that I was secretly married during my residence in
Italy."
To a friend, M. de Mesnard, she wrote: "I feel as if it would kill me to tell
you what follows, but it must be done. Vexatious annoyances, the order to
leave me alone with spies, the certainty that I can not get out till September,
could alone have determined me to declare my secret marriage."
The humiliations to which the unhappy duchess was
compelled to submit were dreadful. The detail would be Humiliations of the
only painful to our readers. On the morning of the 10th duchess.
of May a daughter was born, whom God kindly, ere long, removed to
another world. The fact, minutely authenticated, was proclaimed to all
Europe. Thus far Marie Caroline had kept secret the name of her husband.
But it was now necessary that his name should be given, to secure the
legitimacy of her child. It was then announced, by the officiating physician
to the group of officials which the Government had placed around her bed,
that the father of the child was Count Hector Sucheri Palli, gentleman of the
chamber to the King of the Two Sicilies.
In commenting upon these events, Louis Blanc writes:
"The partisans of the new dynasty exulted with indecent Comments of Louis
zeal at the event of which the ministers had so well Blanc.
prepared the scandal. The Republicans only manifested the contempt they
felt for this ignoble triumph. As for the Legitimists, they were overwhelmed
with consternation. Some of them, however, still persisted in their daring
incredulity; and they did not hesitate to denounce the document, upon
which their enemies relied as the denouement of an intrigue which had
begun with violence and ended with a lie. Separated from her friends,

deprived of their counsels, dead to the world, to the laws, to society, was it
possible for Marie Caroline to make any valid deposition against herself,
and that, too, surrounded by her accusers, by her keepers, by the men who
had vowed her destruction?"
Thus, while one party affirmed that there was no truth in the alleged birth or
marriage, the Orleanists declared that the Duchess of Berri had not only
given birth to a child of no legitimate parentage, but that the Duke of
Bordeaux, who was born seven months after the assassination of the Duke
of Berri, was also the child of dishonored birth, and had, therefore, no title
whatever to the crown. Such is the venom of political partisanship.
On the 8th of June, Marie Caroline, who could no longer
claim the title of Regent of France, but who had sunk to The duchess
the lowly condition of the wife of an Italian count, was liberated.
liberated from prison. She had fallen into utter disgrace, and was no longer
to be feared. With her child and her nurse, abandoned by those friends who
had gathered around the regent, she sailed for Palermo. Her brother, the
king, received her kindly, and she was joined by Count Lucheri Palli. Few
troubled themselves to inquire whether she were ever married to the count
or not. We hear of her no more.
These events broke up the Legitimists into three parties. The one assumed
that, under the circumstances, the abdication of Charles X. was not to be
regarded as binding; that he was still king, and to him alone they owed their
allegiance. The second took the position that, in consequence of the
suspicions cast upon the birth of the Duke of Bordeaux, the abdication in
favor of the duke was null, and that the dauphin, the Duke de Angoulême,
was the legitimate heir to the crown. The third party still adhered to the
Duke of Bordeaux, recognizing him as king, under the title of Henry V.
Thus terminated in utter failure the Legitimist endeavor to overthrow the
throne of Louis Philippe.
While these scenes were transpiring, the Duke of
Reichstadt, the only son of Napoleon I., and, by the Death of the Duke
votes of the French people, the legitimate heir to the of Reichstadt.
throne of the Empire, died in Vienna, on the 22d of July, 1832. Commenting
upon this event, Louis Blanc writes:

"In a calm, lovely day, there was seen advancing through a perfectly silent
crowd, along the streets of that capital of Austria which once looked down
abashed and terror-struck beneath the proud eagles of Napoleon, a hearse,
preceded by a coach and a few horsemen. Some attendants walked on either
side, bearing torches. When they arrived at the church, the court
commissioner, in pursuance of a remarkable custom of the country,
proceeded to enumerate the names and titles of the deceased. Then,
knocking at the door, he solicited for the corpse admission to the temple.
The princes and princesses of the house of Austria were there awaiting the
body, and attended it to the vault, into which the fortune of the Empire then
descended forever. The death of the son of Napoleon occasioned no surprise
among the nations. It was known that he was of a very sickly constitution,
and besides poison had been spoken of. Those who think every thing
possible to the fear or ambition of princes had said, He bears too great a
name to live."
The attempts subsequently made by Louis Napoleon for Louis Napoleon.
the restoration of the Empire, which failed at Strasbourg
and Bologne, but which finally gave the Empire to France through twenty
years of unparalleled prosperity, we have not space here to record. They
will be found minutely detailed in Abbott's History of Napoleon III.
In reference to these unsuccessful attempts, Louis Blanc
writes: "Of the two sons of the ex-king of Holland, Statement of Louis
Napoleon's brother, the elder, we have seen, had Blanc.
perished in the Italian troubles, by a death as mysterious as premature. The
younger had retired to Switzerland, where he applied himself unceasingly to
the preparation of projects that flattered his pride and responded to the most
earnest aspirations of his soul.
"Nephew to him whom France called the Emperor, the emperor par
excellence (imperator), and condemned to the vexations of an obscure
youth; having to avenge his proscribed kindred, while himself exiled by an
unjust law, from a country he loved, and of which it might be said, without
exaggeration, that Napoleon still covered it with his shadow—Louis
Bonaparte believed himself destined at once to uphold the honor of his
name, to punish the persecutors of his family, and to open to his disgraced
country some way to glory.

"His design was to make trial of the prestige of his name to overthrow the
Orleans dynasty, after which he would convoke the people, consult and
obey it. Nothing is more certain than that this respect for the principle of the
sovereignty of the people was perfectly sincere and honest on the part of the
young prince. But the hopes with which he flattered his ambition were not
the less grand on that account. Heir to the imperial tradition, might he not
be the choice of the people?
"He was generous, enterprising, prompt in military exercises, and the
uniform sat upon him with a manly grace. There was no braver officer—no
more gallant cavalier. Though the expression of his countenance was gentle,
rather than energetic and imperious—though there was an habitual languor
in his looks, often dashed with thought, no doubt the soldiers would love
him for his frank bearing, his honest and hearty speech, his small figure,
resembling his uncle's, and the imperial lightning which the passion of the
moment kindled in his blue eye. What a name, too, was his!"[AN]
Charles X. was overwhelmed by his misfortunes. His
health rapidly failed. He was often heard to say, "The Death of Charles X.
day is not far distant that shall witness the funeral of the
poor old man." On the morning of November 4, 1836, he was seized with a
chill, while temporarily residing at Goritz, in Styria. It proved an attack of
cholera. His sufferings were severe, but he was calm and resigned, and
conversed freely upon the eternity opening before him. The Duke of
Bordeaux and his sister were brought into the room to receive his blessing.
He placed his trembling hands upon their heads and said, "God protect you,
my children. Walk in the ways of righteousness; do not forget me; pray for
me sometimes." A deep lethargy came upon him; and, after a few hours of
apparent insensibility, he breathed his last, at the age of 79 years.

Chapter XI.

The Final Struggle.
1833-1848

T he Liberal party in France, despairing of any effectual reform under the
government of Louis Philippe, began to turn their thoughts to the re-
establishment of the Empire under Louis Napoleon, a young prince, the
nephew and heir of Napoleon I., then residing in studious seclusion at
Arnemberg, in Switzerland. The prince had already obtained some celebrity
by his writings in favor of popular rights. One of the leading republicans
wrote to him:
"The life of the king is daily threatened. If one of these
attempts should succeed, we should be exposed to the Letter to Louis
Napoleon.
most serious convulsions; for there is no longer in
France any party which can lead the others, nor any man who can inspire
general confidence. The great name which you bear, your opinions, your
character, every thing, induces us to see in you a point of rallying for the
popular cause. Hold yourself ready for action. When the time shall come,
your friends will not fail you."[AO]
Every month there seemed to be rising enthusiasm in
respect to the Napoleonic name. Louis Philippe had but Honors to the
memory of
just taken his seat upon the throne, when a petition was Napoleon I.
presented to the Chamber of Deputies praying that the
remains of the Emperor might be claimed of the British Government, and
transferred from St. Helena to Paris. In a speech made by M. Mortigny, on
the occasion, he said:
"Napoleon established order and tranquillity in our country: he led our
armies to victory: his sublime genius put an end to anarchy: his military
glory made the French name respected throughout the world, and his name
will ever be pronounced with emotion and veneration."

In the Place Vendôme a column was reared in commemoration of the deeds
of the French army. It had been surmounted by the statue of Napoleon. The
Allies tore down the effigy. The people now demanded that the statue
should be restored. The Government could not refuse. On the 28th of July,
1833, the statue of the emperor again rose to that proud summit, in the
midst of, apparently, the universal acclaim of Paris and France.
On the 1st of August, 1834, a statue of the emperor was placed in the court-
yard of the Royal Hôtel des Invalides, accompanied by as imposing civil
and religious ceremonies as France had ever witnessed.
In the year 1806, Napoleon I. had laid the foundations of
the Arc de l'Étoile, at the entrance of the most superb The Arc de l'Étoile.
avenue in the world. The people now demanded the
completion of the monument. Preparations were made for a magnificent
fête on the 29th of July, 1836, when the completed arc was to be unveiled.
But Louis Philippe had become so excessively unpopular, he was so
incessantly pursued by assassins, that it was not deemed safe for him to
appear at the ceremony. The magnificent monument was unveiled without
any ceremony—the Moniteur proclaiming to Europe the humiliating
declaration that the king could no longer with safety appear in the streets of
Paris. "The soil," writes a French annalist, "was so sown with assassins that
there was no safety for the monarch but within the walls of his palace."[AP]
All over the kingdom insurrections were constantly bursting out, and there
were bloody conflicts in Lyons, Marseilles, and other places. And now the
demand became irresistible for the transfer of the remains of Napoleon to
Paris. Such a scene of national homage as this great occasion manifested the
world never witnessed before. In 1840, the eyes of the world were fixed
upon this grand funereal pageant. The honored remains were transferred
from the lonely grave at St. Helena, placed beneath the dome of the
Invalides, and over those remains a nation's gratitude has reared a
monument which attracts the admiration of the world.

ST. HELENA.
But these reluctant yieldings to popular sentiment did
not add to the popularity of Louis Philippe. He was shot The "Target King."
at so frequently that he received the sobriquet of the Target King! A volume
might be filled with the recital of the foul attempts to assassinate him. His
days must have passed in constant wretchedness. He was assailed in low
blackguardism in the journals: he was assailed with envenomed eloquence,
by such men as Lamartine, at the banquets; and his path was dogged, with
dagger and pistol, by such brutal wretches as Fieschi, Boirier Meunier,
Alibaud, and many others.
Louis Philippe, in the relations of private life, was one of the best of men.
His character had been formed in the school of misfortune. He was not a
man of generous affections; the fearful discipline through which he had
passed rendered this almost impossible. He was greedy of money, and
exceedingly desirous of aggrandizing his family by such matrimonial
alliances as would strengthen his dynasty.
On the 13th of July, 1842, the king experienced one of
the heaviest calamities of his life—a calamity quite Death of the Duke
of Orleans.
irreparable. His eldest son, who, upon the enthronement
of his father, had taken the title of the Duke of Orleans, was a very noble
young man, quite popular with the people and in the army. He was believed

to be far more liberal in his views than his father. He was driving in his
carriage from Paris to Neuilly; the horses took fright, and the driver lost his
control over them. The duke endeavored to leap from the carriage; his head
struck the ground, and his brain was so injured that he breathed but a few
hours, in insensibility, and died. Thus sadly the direct heir to the throne was
cut off. The succession reverted to his son, the Count of Paris—an infant
child, then in the arms of its nurse.
This young man—who subsequently married his cousin,
a daughter of the Duke of Montpensier, and who has The Count de Paris.
been residing much of the time at Twickenham, in
England—is, at the present writing, the Orleans candidate for the throne of
France. He is deemed a worthy man—has two children, but never has been
placed in circumstances to develop any marked traits of character. As the
Count of Chambord has no children, upon his death the Count of Paris
becomes the legitimate candidate for the throne.
The Count of Chambord had married the Archduchess Maria Theresa-
Beatrice, of Modena, eldest sister of the reigning duke of that principality,
and the only prince in Europe who had refused to recognize Louis Philippe.
"It was a singular proof of the mutations of fortune that the direct
descendant of Louis XIV. deemed himself fortunate upon being admitted
into the family of a third-rate Italian potentate."[AQ]
Louis Philippe, during his reign of about eighteen years, encountered
nothing but trouble. The advocates of legitimacy—of the divine right of
kings—regarded him as an usurper. As the voice of the nation was not
consulted in placing him upon the throne, the masses of the people deemed
themselves defrauded of their rights, and hated him, as the representative
only of the moneyed aristocracy of Paris. The bitterness with which he was
assailed by the Liberal party may be inferred from the following extract
from the "Revolution of 1848," by Louis Blanc:
"Whatever may have been the baseness of Rome under
the Cæsars, it was equalled by the corruption in France Testimony of Louis
Blanc.
in the reign of Louis Philippe. Nothing like it had ever
been witnessed in history. The thirst for gold having obtained possession of
minds agitated by impure desires, society terminated by sinking into a

brutal materialism. The formula of selfishness, every one by himself and for
himself, had been adopted by the sovereign as the maxim of state; and that
maxim, alike hideous and fatal, had become the ruling principle of
government. It was the device of Louis Philippe—a prince gifted with
moderation, knowledge, tolerance, humanity, but skeptical, destitute of
either nobility of heart or elevation of mind—the most experienced
corrupter of the human race that ever appeared on earth!"
There were thirty-four millions of people in France. Of Opposition of the
these, but one hundred and fifty thousand of the richest king.
proprietors enjoyed the right of suffrage. Consequently,
the laws were framed to favor the rich. All the efforts of the people to
secure a reform of the electoral law proved unavailing. The agitation of the
subject increased every year, and the cry for parliamentary reform was ever
growing louder and more menacing. Many of the illustrious men in France
joined this reform party. Among others, there were M. Lafitte, the wealthy
banker, M. Odillon Barrot, the renowned advocate, and M. Arago, the
distinguished philosopher.
We may search history in vain for the record of any monarch so
unrelentingly harassed as was Louis Philippe from the time he ascended the
throne until he was driven from it. He was irreproachable in morals, a man
who had seen much of the world in all its phases, sagacious and well
meaning. But he was placed in a position in which no earthly wisdom could
rescue him from the direst trouble. There were two antagonistic and very
powerful parties watching him.
The one was the Liberal party in France, of varied
shades of opinion, demanding equal rights for all men, Liberals and
hating the old dynastic despotisms of Europe, who had Legitimists.
forced the Bourbons upon them, and hating those treaties of Vienna, of
1815, which had shorn France of a large portion of her territory, and had
bound Europe hand and foot, so as to prevent any future uprising of the
friends of popular liberty.
The other party consisted of the old aristocracy of France, the Legitimists,
supported by the sympathies of all the courts of Europe, who were supposed
to be not only willing but eager to unite their armies to maintain the

principles of the old régime in France, and thus to prevent the establishment
there of those principles of popular liberty which would endanger all their
thrones.
The difference between these two parties was irreconcilable. As Louis
Philippe was situated, he was compelled to choose between the two. He
chose the latter. This involved him in unrelenting and unintermitted war
with the former. Alison says: "Concession to the Republican party and a
general change in external policy, so earnestly pressed upon him by the
Liberals, would lead at once to a general war;" that is, the surrounding
dynasties would not permit free institutions to be established in France.
Louis Philippe was a man of great decision of character, as his friends
would say. His enemies called that trait stubbornness. In a letter purporting
to have been written on the 9th of November, 1847, by his son, the Prince
de Joinville, to the Duke de Nemours, the writer says to his brother:
"I write one word to you, for I am disquieted at the
events which I see on all sides thickening around us. Letter from the
Indeed, I begin to be seriously alarmed. The king is Prince de Joinville.
inflexible. He will listen to no advice. His own will must prevail over every
thing. There are no longer any ministers. Their responsibility is null. Every
thing rests with the king. He has arrived at an age when observations are no
longer listened to. He is accustomed to govern, and he loves to show that he
does so."
The king is reported to have said, at the close of a cabinet meeting, in reply
to some who urged concessions to the Liberal party, "Every one appears to
be for reform. Some demand it, others promise it. For my part, I will never
be a party to such weakness. Reform is another word for war. When the
opposition succeed to power, I shall take my departure."
This was the declaration of the king that the surrounding
dynasties would not permit popular rights in France. An The banquets.
ancient law of the old régime did not allow the people to
assemble to discuss affairs of state. Louis Philippe revived the law, and
enforced it vigorously. To evade this prohibition, large dinner-parties, or
banquets, as they were called, were introduced, which afforded an
opportunity of offering toasts and making speeches, in which the measures

of Government were vehemently assailed. These banquets sprang up in all
parts of the kingdom, and were attended by thousands. Arrangements were
made for a mammoth banquet in the city of Paris on the 22d of February,
1848. The place selected was a large open space near the Champs Elysées.
It would accommodate six thousand persons at the tables, and was to be
covered with a canvas awning.
The Government resolved to disperse the assembly by force. The leaders of
the Opposition, aware that they were not prepared for a resort to arms,
entered into a compromise with the Government. The guests were to meet
at the appointed time and place for the banquet. The officers of the police
were then to appear, order the assembly to disperse, and arrest the leaders,
who were to be indicted for a breach of the law prohibiting political
gatherings. Thus the question of the right thus to assemble was to be
referred to the legal tribunals. This compromise was gladly acceded to by
the Liberals, as many of them desired a change of ministry only, being very
reluctant to run the hazard of a change of dynasty.
The Liberals accordingly announced to Paris, by a
proclamation, that the banquet was interdicted by the Agitation in Paris.
Government, but that there would be a general
demonstration by forming a procession on the largest possible scale, to
march to the appointed place of meeting, and there peaceably to disperse at
the orders of the police.
The Government was exceedingly alarmed when it
learned that the banquet was converted into a The procession
procession. This was magnifying the danger. The prohibited.
excitement in Paris was intense. It soon became manifest that not less than
one hundred thousand men would join in the procession. A decree was
accordingly issued by the prefect of police, stating that all who chose to go
to the banquet individually could do so, but that any attempt to form a
procession would meet with forcible resistance. This rendered it necessary
for the Liberals either to give up the plan of the procession, or to run the
risk of a collision with the royal troops, for which they were by no means
prepared.

The leaders of the Liberal party held a meeting, when the question was
anxiously discussed. Opinions on the subject were divided. One of the most
prominent men of the party, M. Lagrange, urged decided measures. "Let the
democracy," said he, "hoist its standard, and descend boldly into the field of
battle for progress. Humanity, in a mass, has its eyes upon you. Our
standard will rally around us the whole warlike and fraternal cohorts. What
more are we waiting for?"
On the other hand, Louis Blanc said, "Humanity restrains me. I ask if you
are entitled to dispose of the blood of a generous people, without any
prospect of advantage to the cause of democracy. If the patriots commence
the conflict to-morrow they will infallibly be crushed, and the democracy
will be drowned in blood. That will be the result of to-morrow's struggle.
Do not deceive yourselves. Determine on insurrection, if you please; but for
my part, if you adopt such a decision, I will retire to my home, to cover
myself with crape and mourn over the ruin of democracy."
Ledru Rollin, following in the same strain, said, "Have we arms,
ammunition, combatants ready? The Government is thoroughly prepared.
The army only awaits the signal to crush us. My opinion is, that to run into
a conflict in such circumstances is an act of madness."
Under the influence of such views, it was decided to
abandon the procession. The regular troops in Paris at The procession
abandoned.
that time numbered twenty-five thousand. There were as
many more garrisoned in neighboring towns, who could in a few hours be
concentrated in the city. Orders had been already issued for all the military
posts of the capital to be strongly occupied. In consequence of these various
measures, excitement pervaded the whole metropolis. Many of the Liberal
party were not satisfied with the decision of their leaders. Many of the
populace were also ignorant of the resolutions to which the committees had
come at a late hour of the evening of the day before the procession was to
have been formed.
At an early hour in the morning of the 22d, immense crowds had assembled
in the Place de la Madeleine, the Place de la Concorde, and the Champs
Elysées. Here they swayed to and fro, hour after hour, motiveless, awaiting
the progress of events. M. Guizot was then Minister of Foreign Affairs, and

M. Duchatel Minister of the Interior. In the afternoon a large band of
students swept through the streets singing the Marseillaise, and shouting
"Long live Reform!" "Down with Guizot!" Agitation was rapidly on the
increase. Quite a large body of regular troops was stationed at the junction
of the Rue Rivoli and the Rue St. Honoré. Towards evening the excited mob
pelted the troops with stones, and commenced erecting barricades in the
vicinity. There was, however, no other serious disturbance during the day.
The Government, alarmed by these demonstrations,
resolved to call out all its military force the next Concentration of
morning, both the regular troops and National Guard, to the royal troops.
maintain order. Consequently, at an early hour in the morning of the 23d,
the générale was beat in all the streets, and the National Guard, more than
forty thousand strong, hurried to their appointed places of rendezvous. This
crowding of the streets with troops greatly increased the general excitement.
All business was suspended. Many of the shops were closed. The whole
population of Paris seemed to be upon the pavement.
The National Guard, composed of the middling class in
the city of Paris, were most of them in favor of reform. Defection of the
National Guard.
Many of their officers belonged to the Liberal party.
Their commander-in-chief, General Jacquemont, was ready to sustain the
Government. He was powerless without the co-operation of his officers and
men. In anticipation of the conflict which now seemed so menacing, large
numbers of the officers held a secret meeting the night before, in which they
decided to stand between the regular troops and the irresponsible populace.
They would, on the one hand, assist the people in demanding reform, and
would protect them from the assaults of the regular troops. On the other
hand, they would defend the monarchy, and aid the troops in repelling
insurrection and revolution. As the National Guard occupied every post
conjointly with the regular troops, they would not allow the troops to
disperse the assemblages of the people. It would have been destruction to
the regular troops to engage in a conflict with the National Guard,
supported as it would have been by the whole populace of Paris.
In this singular posture of affairs, the guard standing between the regulars
and the people, and not unfrequently joining with the people in shouts of
Vive la Réforme, the hours wore on. Many of the Liberal leaders were so

encouraged by this state of things that they dispatched orders to the secret
societies in the faubourgs immediately to come forth in all their banded
strength, hoping to overawe the Government. These formidable bodies soon
appeared, traversing the thoroughfares in appalling numbers. The cavalry
received orders to clear the streets. The guard formed into line in front of
one of these bands, and with fixed bayonets held the cavalry back. The
populace, inspired with new zeal, seized arms wherever they could be found
and commenced throwing up barricades.
The king was struck with consternation as these tidings
were brought to him at the Tuileries. A cabinet council Consternation at the
was hastily convened. In view of the peril of the hour the Tuileries.
A cabinet council
king sent for the queen and his son, the Duke de summoned.
Montpensier, to be present at the meeting of the
ministers. Lamartine has given an account of the interview. The queen and
the Duke de Montpensier both urged the king to dismiss his obnoxious
ministers, and replace them by a Liberal ministry who should introduce
parliamentary reform. The king was in entire sympathy with his ministers.
They were carrying out his own policy. With tears in his eyes he declared
that he had rather abdicate the throne than be separated from them.
"You can not do that, my dear," said the queen; "you belong to France, and
not to yourself. You can not abdicate."
"True," replied the king, mournfully, "I am more to be pitied than they. I can
not resign."
M. Guizot, who was absent at the commencement of the meeting, had come
in during the interview. The king turned to him and said, "My dear M.
Guizot, is it your opinion that the Cabinet is in a situation to make head
against the storm, and to triumph over it?"
The minister replied, "Sire, when the king proposes such a question he
himself answers it. The Cabinet may be in a condition to gain the victory in
the streets, but it can not conquer, at the same time, the royal family and the
crown. To throw a doubt upon its support in the Tuileries is to destroy it in
the exercise of power. The Cabinet has no alternative but to resign."

The king was deeply moved as he felt thus compelled to accept their
resignation. Tears dimmed his eyes. Affectionately embracing them, he
bade them adieu, saying, "How happy you are! You depart with honor, I
remain with shame."
Guizot himself announced his resignation to the
Chamber of Deputies, then in session. The Resignation of the
ministry.
announcement was received with shouts of applause
from the Opposition benches. The tidings spread with electric speed
through the streets. Night came, and large portions of the city blazed with
illuminations, exultant bands surged through the streets, songs resounded,
and the city presented an aspect of universal rejoicing. Still, with thinking
men, there was great anxiety. Where would all this lead to? Would the
triumphant populace be satisfied merely with a change of ministry? Might it
not demand the overthrow of a dynasty? If so, what government would
succeed? There were Legitimists, and Orleanists, and Imperialists, and
moderate Republicans, and Socialists of every grade of ultra Democracy.
Was France to be plunged into anarchy by the conflict of these rival parties?
While the unreflecting populace drank, and sang, and danced, and hugged
each other in exultant joy, thoughtful men paused, pondered, and turned
pale with apprehension.
The ardent revolutionists began now to organize in
bands in different parts of the city. Three large bodies Organization of the
revolutionists.
were speedily gathered; one in front of the office of the
Reform, another before that of the Nationale, and a third in the Place de la
Bastile. These three columns, led by such men, born to command, as ever
emerge from the populace in scenes of excitement, paraded the illuminated
streets, with songs and shouts and flaming torches, until they formed a
junction in the Boulevard des Italiens. It was manifest that some secret but
superior intelligence guided their movements. The Hôtel of Foreign Affairs,
then the residence of M. Guizot, was in the Rue de Choiseul. At the head of
that street a well-armed detachment broke off from one of the processions,
and, bearing with them the blood-red flag of insurrection, advanced to
surround the hotel.
A royal guard had been stationed here, consisting of a
battalion of the line. The troops were drawn up across Collision with the

the street, presenting a rampart of bayonets to prevent troops.
the farther advance of the column. Here the insurgents
halted, face to face with the troops, almost near enough to cross bayonets.
The leader of this column is thus graphically pictured by Lamartine:
"A man about forty years of age, tall, thin, with hair curled and falling on
his shoulders, dressed in a white frock, well worn and stained with dirt,
marched, with a military step, at their head. His arms were folded over his
chest, his head slightly bent forward with the air of one who was about to
face bullets deliberately, and to brave death with exultation. In the eyes of
this man, well known by the multitude, was concentrated all the fire of the
Revolution. The physiognomy was the living expression of the defiance of
opposing force. His lips, incessantly agitated, as if by a mental harangue,
were pale and trembling. We are told that his name was Lagrange."
The commander of the royal troops sat on horseback in The conflict
front of his line. The gleam of the torches and the commenced.
waving of the insurgent banner frightened his horse. The
animal reared, and, recoiling upon his haunches, broke through the line of
troops, which in some confusion opened to let him pass to the rear. At this
moment, either by accident or design, a musket-shot was discharged at the
soldiers by some one of the insurgents; Alison says by Lagrange himself.
The troops, in the gloom of the night, agitated by the terrible excitements of
the hour, and by the confusion into which their ranks were thrown by the
retreat of their commander through them, deeming themselves attacked,
returned the fire, point-blank, in full volley. By that one discharge fifty of
the insurgents were struck down upon the pavements, killed or wounded.
The street thus swept by bullets was crowded with men,
women, and children. The discharge echoed far and Flight of the
insurgents.
wide through Paris, creating terrible alarm. Most who
were present had not the remotest idea of danger, supposing that they had
met only for a demonstration of joy. Apprehensive of another discharge,
there was an immediate and tumultuous flight of the populace, the strong
trampling the weak beneath their feet. The insurgents took with them their
dead and wounded. This accidental slaughter roused Paris to frenzy. It was
regarded as the revenge which the ministers had taken for their overthrow.
Several large wagons were procured, and the dead, artistically arranged so

as to display to the most imposing effect their blood and wounds, were
placed in them. Torches were attached to the wagons, so as to exhibit the
bodies of the slain. A woman was among the victims. Her lifeless body, half
naked, occupied a very conspicuous position. A man stood by her side
occasionally raising the corpse that it might be more distinctly seen.
Thus, in the gloom of a dark and clouded night, this
ghastly procession traversed all the leading streets of Unpopularity of the
Paris, the whole population, of a city of a million and a king.
half of inhabitants, being then in the streets. The rage excited, and the cries
for vengeance, were deep and almost universal. Louis Philippe had no
personal popularity to sustain him. Legitimists and Republicans alike
ignored his claims to the throne. He was regarded as intensely avaricious,
notwithstanding his immense wealth, and as ever ready to degrade France
in subserviency to the policy of foreign courts, that he might gain the co-
operation of these courts in the maintenance of his crown, and secure
exalted matrimonial alliances for his children. There have probably been
few, if any, kings upon the throne of France, who have had fewer friends or
more bitter enemies than Louis Philippe. The following statement from the
North American Review correctly expresses the sentiment of most
thoughtful men upon the character of his administration:
"During a reign in which his real authority and influence were immense, he
did little for his country, little for the moral and intellectual elevation of his
people, and nothing for the gradual improvement of the political institutions
of his kingdom; because his time and attention were absorbed in seeking
splendid foreign alliances for his children, and in manœuvring to maintain a
supple majority in the Chambers, and to keep those ministers at the head of
affairs who would second more heartily his private designs."
While these scenes were transpiring, the king, though The Duchess of
greatly chagrined at the compulsory dismissal of his Orleans.
ministers, yet supposed that he had thus appeased the
populace, and that there was no longer danger of lawless violence. Helen,
duchess of Orleans, widow of the king's eldest son, a woman of much
intelligence, had been greatly alarmed in apprehension that the dynasty was
about to be overthrown. Her little son, the Count de Paris, was heir to the
crown. Relieved of her apprehensions by the dismissal of the obnoxious

ministers, and not aware of what was transpiring in the streets, she pressed
her child to her bosom, saying: "Poor child! your crown has been indeed
compromised, but now Heaven has restored it to you."
M. Guizot, at the time the untoward event occurred in
front of his hotel, chanced to be at the residence of M. Midnight tumult.
Duchatel, the ex-Minister of the Interior. As they were
conversing, the brother of M. Duchatel entered, breathless and in the
highest state of agitation, to communicate the tidings that the troops had
fired upon the people, that the whole populace of Paris was in a ferment of
indignation, and that there was imminent danger that the streets of the
metropolis were about to be the theatre of the most fearful carnage. Should
either of these ministers fall into the hands of the exasperated populace,
their instant death was certain. They both hastened to the Tuileries. It was
midnight. The terrible news had already reached the ears of the king. They
found him in his cabinet with his son, the Duke de Montpensier, and other
important personages. All were in a state of great consternation. M. Thiers
was immediately sent for. The crisis demanded the most decisive measures,
and yet the councils were divided. There was a very energetic veteran
general in Paris, Marshal Bugeaud, who had acquired renown in the war in
Algeria. He was popular with the soldiers, but very unpopular with the
people. Inured to the horrors of the battle-field, he would, without the
slightest hesitation, mow down the people mercilessly with grape-shot.
The king was appalled, in view of his own peril and that
of his family. He well knew how numerous and bitter Consternation of
the royal family.
were his enemies. He had not forgotten the doom of his
predecessors in that palace, Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette. For years
assassins had dogged his path. All varieties of ingenious machines of
destruction had been constructed to secure his death. He was appropriately
called the Target King, so constantly were the bullets of his foes aimed at
his life. Even a brave man may be excused for being terrified when his wife
and his children are exposed to every conceivable indignity and to a bloody
death. Under these circumstances the king consented to place the command
of the army in the hands of the energetic Marshal Bugeaud. It was now two
o'clock in the morning. The veteran marshal, invested with almost
dictatorial powers, left the Tuileries in company with one of the sons of the

king, the Duke de Nemours, to take possession of the troops, and to arrange
them for the conflict which was inevitable on the morrow.
The impulse of a master-mind was immediately felt. Aided by the obscurity
of the night, messengers were dispatched in every direction, and by five
o'clock in the morning four immense columns of troops were advancing to
occupy important strategic points, which would command the city. These
arrangements being completed, the Duke de Nemours anxiously inquired of
the marshal what he thought of the morrow. M. Bugeaud replied:
"Monseigneur, it will be rough, but the victory will be
ours. I have never yet been beaten, and I am not going to Marshal Bugeaud.
commence to-morrow. Certainly it would have been
better not to have lost so much time; but no matter, I will answer for the
result if I am left alone. It must not be imagined that I can manage without
bloodshed. Perhaps there will be much, for I begin with cannon. But do not
be uneasy. To-morrow evening the authority of the king and of the law shall
be re-established."

Chapter XII.

The Throne Demolished.
1848

I n the mean time the king formed a new and liberal
ministry, consisting of MM. Thiers, Odillon Barrot, Attempts at
conciliation.
and Duvergier de Hauranne, hoping thus to conciliate
the populace. The fact was placarded, at six o'clock in the morning, all over
Paris. But the act of appointing Marshal Bugeaud to command the troops
was a declaration of war—the formation of this ministry was a supplication
for peace. The one act was defiance, the other capitulation. Thus, while
General Bugeaud was loading his cannon to the muzzle, and marshalling
his troops for battle, he received an order, to his inexpressible chagrin, from
the new ministry directing him to cease the combat and to withdraw the
troops, while at the same time an announcement was made, by a
proclamation to the people, that the new ministry had ordered the troops
everywhere to cease firing, and to withdraw from the menacing positions
which they occupied. The indignant marshal for a time refused to obey the
order until it should be ratified by the sign-manual of the king. He soon,
however, received a dispatch from the Duke de Nemours which rendered it
necessary to submit. Thus the new ministry rejected the policy of resistance,
and inaugurated that of conciliation.
The king, worn out by excitement and fatigue, at four
o'clock in the morning retired to his chamber for a few False confidence of
the king.
hours of sleep. He was so far deceived as to flatter
himself that, through the measures which had been adopted, all serious
trouble was at an end. He slept soundly, and did not rise until eleven
o'clock, when he came down to the breakfast-room in morning-gown and
slippers, and with a smiling countenance. Here appalling tidings met him.
The exasperated populace were tearing down and trampling under foot the
conciliatory proclamation of M. Thiers. The national troops, disgusted with
the contradictory orders which had been issued, were loud in their clamor
against the king. The National Guard was everywhere fraternizing with the

people. The frenzy of insurrection was surging through all the
thoroughfares of Paris.
The king was silent in consternation. Immediately repairing to his chamber,
he dressed himself in the uniform of the National Guard, and returned to his
cabinet, where he was joined by two of his sons, the Duke de Nemours and
the Duke de Montpensier. All night long the dismal clang of the tocsin had
summoned the fighting portion of the population to important points of
defense. Nearly all the churches were in the hands of the insurgents. Under
cover of the darkness, barricades had been rising in many of the streets. The
national troops had retired, humiliated, to the vicinity of the Tuileries and
Palais Royal. Many of the soldiers, in their disgust, had thrown away their
muskets, while some of the officers, under similar feelings, had broken their
swords and cast them away upon the pavement.
Affairs made such rapid progress that by ten o'clock M.
Thiers became fully convinced that he had no longer Resignation of
influence with the people. He accordingly resigned the Thiers.
ministry, and M. Odillon Barrot, a man far more democratic in his
principles, was appointed prime-minister in his stead. The Palais Royal, the
magnificent ancestral abode of the Duke of Orleans, being left unguarded,
the mob burst in, rioted through all its princely saloons, plundering and
destroying. Its paintings, statuary, gorgeous furniture, and priceless works
of art were pierced with bayonets, slashed with sabre-strokes, thrown into
the streets, and consumed with flames. In less than half an hour the
magnificent apartments of this renowned palace presented but a revolting
spectacle of destruction and ruin.
The king, the queen, the Duchess of Orleans, and the
Duke de Montpensier, with several distinguished Scene in the palace.
friends, were still in the breakfast-room—the Gallery of
Diana, in the Tuileries. The mob, their hands filled with the plunder of the
Palais Royal, were already entering the Carrousel. Loud shouts announced
their triumph to the trembling inmates of the royal palace, and appalled
them with fears of the doom which they soon might be called to encounter.
Two of the gentlemen, M. Remusat and M. de Hauranne, stepped out into
the court-yard of the Tuileries to ascertain the posture of affairs. Speedily
they returned, pale, and with features expressive of intense anxiety.

"Sire," said M. Remusat to the king, "it is necessary that your majesty
should know the truth! To conceal it at this moment would be to render
ourselves implicated in all that may follow. Your feelings of security prove
that you are deceived! Three hundred feet from here the dragoons are
exchanging their sabres, and the soldiers their muskets with the people!"
"It is impossible!" exclaimed the king, recoiling with astonishment.
"Sire," added an officer, M. de l'Aubospère, who was present, "it is true. I
have seen it."
The queen, re-enacting the heroism of Maria Antoinette
on a similar occasion, said to her faint-hearted husband, Heroism of the
"Go, show yourself to the discouraged troops, to the queen.
wavering National Guard. I will come out on the balcony with my
grandchildren and the princesses, and I will see you die worthy of yourself,
of your throne, and of your misfortunes."
The king descended the stairs, while the queen and the princesses went
upon the balcony. He passed through the court-yard of the Tuileries into the
Carrousel. If any shouts were uttered of "Vive le Roi," they were drowned in
the cry which seemed to burst from all lips, "Vive la Réforme! à bas les
Ministres!"
All hope was now gone! The king, in despair, returned to
the royal family. The panic was heart-rending—the The insurrection
triumphant.
ladies weeping aloud. The shouts which filled the air
announced that the mob was approaching, triumphant, from all directions,
while a rattling fire of musketry was heard, ever drawing nearer. Marshal
Bugeaud did what he could to arrest the advance of the insurgents, but his
troops were sullen, and but feebly responded to any of his orders.
In the midst of this terrible scene, the king took his pen to appoint another
ministry, still more radically democratic than Barrot and Hauranne. As he
was writing out the list, M. de Girardin entered the apartment. He was
editor of the Times newspaper, and one of the most uncompromising
Republicans in the city. Approaching the king, he said to him firmly, yet
respectfully,

"Sire, it is now too late to attempt to form a new ministry. The public mind
can not be tranquilized by such a measure. The flood of insurrection, now
resistless, threatens to sweep away the throne itself. Nothing short of
abdication will now suffice."
Upon the utterance of that fatal word, the king inquired anxiously, "Is there
no other alternative?"
M. Girardin replied, "Sire, within an hour, perhaps, there will be no such
thing as a monarchy in France. The crisis admits of no third alternative. The
king must abdicate, or the monarchy is lost."
The Duke de Montpensier, fully comprehending the peril of the hour,
earnestly entreated his father to sign the abdication. But, on the other hand,
there were those who entreated the king, with equal fervor, not to sign it. M.
Piscatory and Marshal Bugeaud urged that abdication would inflict a
Republic upon France, with no end to anarchy and civil war; that the only
way to meet the insurrection was to crush it by military power.
The king hesitated. The clamor and the rattle of
musketry increased and drew nearer. Messengers came The abdication.
in breathless, announcing that all was lost. The Duke de
Montpensier, trembling in view of the irruption of the mob, and of the
dreadful consequent doom of the royal family, with renewed earnestness
entreated his father to abdicate. Thus influenced, the king took his pen and
wrote:
"I abdicate this crown, which I received from the voice of the nation, and
which I accepted only that I might promote the peace and harmony of the
French.
"Finding it impossible to accomplish this endeavor, I bequeath it to my
grandson, the Count de Paris. May he be more happy than I have been."
It is said that the excitement and hurry of the occasion
were so great that the king neglected to sign the Imminent danger of
abdication. Girardin, however, took the paper and went the royal family.
out into the stormy streets to announce the important event. But Paris was
now in a state of ferment which nothing could immediately appease. The
rush and roar of the storm of human passion in the streets seemed still to

increase, and to approach nearer to the doors of the palace. Danger of
violence and death was imminent. Nearly all had withdrawn from the
Tuileries except the royal family. Louis Philippe now thought only of
escape. Surrounded as the palace was by the mob, this was no easy task to
accomplish. The king disguised himself in citizen's dress. The queen was
almost frantic with terror.
The king, having abdicated in favor of his grandson, the Count de Paris,
was disposed to leave the child-monarch with his mother in the palace. He
flattered himself that the innocence of the child and the helplessness of the
mother would prove their protection. But when the Duchess of Orleans
perceived that no arrangements were being made for her escape and that of
her children, she exclaimed in anguish,
"Are you going to leave me here alone, without parents, friends, or any to
advise me? What will become of me?"
The king sadly replied, "My dear Helen, the dynasty must be saved, and the
crown preserved to your son. Remain here, then, for his sake. It is a
sacrifice you owe your son."
Seldom has a woman and a mother been called to pass
through a more severe ordeal than this. The peril was Peril and sufferings
of the Duchess of
awful. In a few moments a mob of countless thousands, Orleans.
composed of the dregs of the populace of Paris, inflamed Flight of the king.
with intoxication and rage, might be surging through all
the apartments of the Tuileries, while the duchess and her children were
entirely at their mercy. No ordinary heroism could be adequate to such a
trial. The duchess threw herself at the feet of the king, and entreated
permission to accompany him in his flight. The king was firm, cruelly firm.
Leaving the widow of his son, with her two children, all unprotected,
behind him, he withdrew, to effect his own escape with the queen and the
princesses, under the guidance of his son, the Duke de Nemours, who
displayed the utmost heroism during all the scenes of that eventful day. As
the party was in disguise, and the whole city was in a state of indescribable
tumult, the fugitives succeeded in traversing, without being recognized, the
broad central avenue of the garden of the Tuileries. Emerging by the gate of
the Pont Tournant, they reached the foot of the obelisk in the Place de la

Concorde. It was one o'clock in the afternoon; the duke had ordered the
carriages to be ready for them there. But the mob, recognizing the carriages
as belonging to the royal family, had dashed them to pieces.
The embarrassment and peril were terrible. There was
momentary danger of being recognized. Then death and Escape.
being trampled beneath the feet of the mob were almost
inevitable. An agitated throng of countless thousands was surging through
the Place. Already some began to suspect them as belonging to the court,
and they were rudely jostled. But providentially there were two hackney-
coaches near by. These were hurriedly engaged, the royal family thrust into
them, and a guard of cuirassiers, previously stationed near for the occasion
by the Duke de Nemours, gathered around the carriages as an escort, and at
a quick trot swept along the banks of the Seine by the Quai de Billi, and
escaped from Paris. That night they reached Dreux, one of the country-seats
of the king.
Their peril still was great. The small escort at their disposal was by no
means sufficient to protect them, should there be any uprising of the people
to arrest their progress. It was, therefore, deemed best to dismiss their
guard, and proceed to the sea-coast in disguise, by unfrequented routes, as
simple travellers. They were, however, in great want of money. The king, in
the confusion of his departure, had left seventy thousand dollars in
banknotes upon his bureau. He had but a small supply in his pocket.
Resuming their journey the next morning, they reached Evreux, and were
entertained for the night by a farmer in the royal forest, who had no idea of
the distinguished character of the guests to whose wants he was ministering.
Early in the morning of the third day they set out again in a rude cart, called
a Berlin, drawn by two cart-horses. They had many strange adventures and
narrow escapes, even performing a portion of their journey on foot. At
length they reached the sea-coast at Honfleur, near the mouth of the Seine,
on the southern bank. Here they embarked, still under the assumed name of
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, for Havre, from which port they crossed over to New
Haven, on the southern coast of England, leaving behind them their crown
and their country forever. They reached this land of refuge for dethroned
kings on the 4th of March, and took up their abode at Claremont, formerly

the residence, and perhaps then the property of their son-in-law, Leopold,
king of Belgium.

LOUIS PHILLIPE LEAVING FRANCE.
And now let us return to the Princess Helen, who was
left with her two children in one of the apartments of the Peril of the Duchess
Helen.
palace. Immediately upon the withdrawal of the king,
the troops in the Carrousel, who were then retreating into the court-yard of
the Tuileries, retired through the palace into the garden. The princess, a very
heroic woman, had entirely recovered her self-possession, and awaited her
doom with the serenity of a martyr. As the shouting mob rushed into the
Carrousel, and the windows of the palace were rattling from the explosions
of the artillery, M. Dupin, president of the Chamber of Deputies, entered the
room, and, much agitated with both fear and hope, said,
"Madame, I have come to tell you that perhaps the rôle of Maria Theresa is
reserved for you."
"Lead the way," replied the heroic woman; "my life belongs to France and
to my children."
"There is not a moment to lose," M. Dupin rejoined. "Let us go instantly to
the Chamber of Deputies."

As he was speaking these words, the Duke de Nemours returned. Peril was
indeed imminent. The mob was already surging in at the court of the
Tuileries, and thundering against the gates of the palace.
The princess and her few companions immediately set
out on foot, to pass through the garden of the Tuileries, She retires from the
Tuileries.
the Place de la Concorde, and to cross the river, to obtain
the protection of the Chamber of Deputies. Scarcely had they emerged from
the portals into the garden ere the roaring mob burst from the court-yard
into the palace, and surged through the saloons with the destruction of
consuming flame. Shouts seemed to burst from all lips, "Down with the
Throne!" "Long live the Republic!" Every vestige of royalty was torn to
shreds. The rich drapery which canopied the throne was rent into scarfs, or
formed into cockades, with which the mob decorated their persons.
With hurried steps and anxious hearts the royal party
pressed on through the throng which choked all the The duchess in the
Chamber of
avenues to the palace. They seem to have been partially Deputies.
recognized, for a noisy crowd followed their footsteps.
The princess led her eldest son, the Count de Paris, by the hand. The
youngest, the Duke de Chartres, was carried in the arms of an aid-de-camp.
M. Dupin walked upon one side of the princess, and the Duke de Nemours
upon the other. Safely they crossed the bridge and entered the hotel of the
Deputies. All was agitation and confusion there. M. Dupin repaired to the
hall of session, and, ascending the tribune, announced that the king had
abdicated in favor of his grandson. In a brief, earnest speech he urged the
claims of the Count de Paris as king, under the regency of the Duchess of
Orleans, his mother. This speech created a momentary enthusiasm. By
acclamation it was voted that the resignation of the king should be accepted,
and that the Count de Paris should be recognized as lawful sovereign, under
the regency of the duchess. Just then Lamartine came in.
Lamartine, notwithstanding the brilliance of his talents and the purity of his
character, was by no means insensible to flattery, or to the suggestions of
ambition. It is said that a group of Republicans had but a moment before
met him at the entrance of the building, with the assurance that a Republic
was inevitable, and that all the Republicans were looking to him as their
leader and future President. These assurances may not have swayed his

judgment. But many who had supposed that his strong predelictions were
for royalty were not a little surprised when he ascended the tribune, and
said,
"There is but one way to save the people from the
danger which a revolution, in our present social state, Speech of
Lamartine.
threatens instantly to introduce, and that is to trust
ourselves to the force of the people themselves—to their reason, their
interests, their aims. It is a republic which we require. Yes, it is a Republic
which alone can save us from anarchy, civil war, foreign war, spoliation, the
scaffold, destruction of property, the overthrow of society, the invasion of
foreigners. The remedy is heroic. I know it. But there are occasions, such as
those in which we live, when the only safe policy is that which is grand and
audacious as the crisis itself."
As Lamartine left the tribune, M. Thiers entered, flushed
with excitement. All eyes were anxiously fixed upon Scene in the
Chamber.
him. Taking his place in the tribune, he simply
remarked, "The tide is rising," at the same time, with dramatic gesture,
lifting his hat above his head. As he again disappeared in the crowd, there
was a general increase of alarm. It was manifest to all that affairs were now
sweeping along in a swollen current which human sagacity could but feebly
control. The roar of the throng surging around the hall filled the air. The
strongest minds were appalled.
Just then the folding-doors of the Chamber were thrown
open, and the Duchess of Orleans, leading the Count de Entrance of the
duchess.
Paris by one hand and the Duke de Chartres by the other,
was ushered in. Lamartine, an eye-witness, gives the following account of
the scene: "A respectful silence immediately ensued. The Deputies, in deep
anxiety, crowded around the august princess, and the strangers in the gallery
leaned over, hoping to catch some words which might fall from her lips.
She was dressed in mourning. Her veil, partially raised, disclosed a
countenance the emotion and melancholy of which enhanced the charms of
youth and beauty. Her pale cheeks were marked by the tears of the widow,
the anxieties of the mother. No man could look on her countenance without
being moved. Every feeling of resentment against the monarchy faded away
before the spectacle. The blue eyes of the princess wandered over the hall as

if to implore aid, and were, for a moment, dazzled. Her slight and fragile
form inclined before the sound of the applause with which she was greeted.
A slight blush, the mark of the revival of hope in her bosom, tinged her
cheeks. The smile of gratitude was already on her lips. She felt that she was
surrounded by friends. In her right hand she held the young king, in her left
the Duke of Chartres—children to whom their own catastrophe was a
spectacle. A white collar was turned down the neck of each, on his dark
dress—living portraits of Vandyck, as if they had stepped out of the canvas,
of the children of Charles I."
The duchess had but just entered when the doors were
burst open by the pressure of the crowd, and the mob The rush of the
mob.
rushed in. They were coarse, brutal men, armed with
every conceivable weapon, and immediately they inundated the hall.
Clamorously they demanded the rejection of the throne, which had, thus far,
ever trampled upon their rights, and for the establishment of a republic,
from which alone they hoped for redress. A scene of indescribable
confusion ensued, cries rising upon all sides. The duchess endeavored to
speak. Her tremulous feminine voice was heard exclaiming, "I have come
with all I hold dear in the world," but the remainder of her words were
drowned in the universal clamor.
The sympathies of Lamartine, notwithstanding his republican speech, were
deeply moved by the presence of the princess. Taking advantage of a slight
lull in the storm, when his voice could be heard, he said, "Mr. President, I
demand that the sitting should be suspended, from the double motive, on
the one hand, of respect for the national representation; on the other, for the
august princess whom we see before us."
But Marshal Oudinot, the Duke de Nemours, and other friends who
surrounded the duchess, deemed it essential to the success of her cause that
she should not withdraw from the Chamber. The human heart is often
swayed by influences stronger than argument. A young and beautiful
woman, heroically facing the most terrible dangers in advocacy of the
claims of her child to the throne, appealed more persuasively to many
chivalric hearts than the most cogent logic. Every one in the room trembled
for the life of the princess and her children. They were surrounded by a mob
of scowling, ferocious men, who held possession of the hall. The blow of a

club, the thrust of a dagger, might at any instant be given, and there was no
possibility of protection.
The friends who endeavored to surround the princess
and the children with the shield of their bodies gradually Escape of the
duchess and her
crowded them along to a higher portion of the house children.
near the door, through which they could more easily
effect their escape in case of necessity. The confusion and clamor which
now filled the hall can scarcely be imagined. Scarcely the semblance of a
deliberative assembly was maintained. The triumphant mob was holding
there its wildest orgies. In vain Lamartine, Ledru Rollin, and others
endeavored to make themselves heard, calling for a provisional
government. The howling of the mob drowned every voice.
The members, in confusion, rose from their seats. The president fled from
his chair. Some ferocious wretches, upon whose countenances brutality was
imprinted, clambered over the benches and leveled their muskets at the
head of the princess. Her friends, terror-stricken, hurried her and her
children through the door. The moment she disappeared there was a general
cry for a provisional government, as the first step towards the establishment
of a Republic. This call was made, not only by the mob, but by that large
portion of the Deputies who thought that a Republic alone could save
France from anarchy, and restore to the people their long withheld rights.
Lamartine succeeded in obtaining the tribune. For a
moment he was popular, the representative of The Provisional
Republicanism. There was a brief lull in the tempest as Government.
the throng listened to what he had to say. The following list of names of
those proposed to constitute the Provisional Government was then read off:
Lamartine, Marie, Ledru Rollin, Cremieux, Dupont de l'Eure, Arago, and
Garnier Pagés. Some of these names were received with cheers, others with
hisses. It was impossible to take any formal vote. The voices of the
Deputies were lost in the clamor of the mob. Still, the general assent
seemed to be in their favor. These were all good men. They were deemed
moderate Republicans.
But there was another portion of the Republican party,
the radical, so called, who would by no means be The moderate and
the radical

satisfied with such an administration as these calm, Republicans.
deliberate men would inaugurate, with their lingering
adhesion to the rights of wealth and the dignity of rank. There might have
been possibly a thousand people crowded into the hall of the Chamber of
Deputies, who thus, self-appointed, were forming a government for a nation
numbering thirty-five millions.
The more radical party, perhaps equal in number, and no less tumultuous,
composed also of those of the stoutest muscle and most determined will,
who could elbow their way through the throng, gathered in the great hall of
the Hôtel de Ville, proclaimed an antagonistic provisional government,
more in accordance with their views. Their list consisted of Marrast,
Flocon, Louis Blanc, and Albert. The danger of a conflict, leading to
hopeless anarchy, was imminent, as the partisans of each should rally
around its own choice.
The first Provisional Government, accordingly, immediately repaired to the
Hôtel de Ville, followed by a tumultuous crowd which no man could
number. The leaders of the two parties soon met upon the stairs of the Hôtel
de Ville, and a violent altercation ensued, which came near to blows. The
Place de Grève, in front of the hotel, was like a storm-tossed ocean of
agitated men, "a living sea, madly heaving and tossing about beneath the
tempest of revolution."
Both parties were terrified by the menacing aspect of
affairs. A compromise was hurriedly agreed to by adding A compromise.
to the six chosen at the Chamber of Deputies six more,
chosen from the party at the Hôtel de Ville. Lamartine, from the head of the
stairs, read off the list to the masses surging below.
In the mean time, the Duchess of Orleans, having
escaped from the Chamber of Deputies, and surrounded A surging crowd.
by friends who were ready to sacrifice their own lives in
her defense, was with difficulty rescued from the crowd. Prominent among
her protectors was M. de Morny. As the duchess was veiled, her little party
was soon lost in the heaving masses, and unrecognized. The terrors of the
hour caused fugitives to be struggling wildly through the throng in all
directions. The pressure was so great and so resistless that the duchess was

torn from the side of her brother, the Duke de Nemours, and from both of
her children. A moment after the separation, as the mother, frantic with
terror, was groping around in search of her sons, a brutal wretch of gigantic
stature recognized the Count de Paris, and, seizing him by the throat,
endeavored to strangle him. One of the National Guard who chanced to be
near rescued the child, and succeeded in placing him in the hands of his
mother. But the younger child, the Duke de Chartres, could nowhere be
found. In vain the distracted mother called aloud for her child. The close-
packed throng swayed to and fro, and her feeble voice was unheard in the
deafening clamor. She was swept along by the flow of a torrent which it
was impossible to resist. With exceeding difficulty her friends succeeded in
forcing her into a house. She ran to the window of one of the chambers to
look down upon the scene of tumult for her lost child. Soon, to her
inexpressible joy, she saw him in the arms of a friend. The poor child was
faint, and almost lifeless. He had been thrown down and trampled under the
feet of the crowd. The day was now far spent. As soon as it was dark, the
royal party, all in disguise, engaged a hack, and, passing through the
Champs Elysées, escaped from the city. After a short journey of many perils
and great mental suffering, they were reunited with the exiled king and
court at Claremont.
The night succeeding these scenes in Paris was appalling
beyond imagination. There was no recognized law in the Awful scenes in
Paris.
metropolis. A population of a million and a half of
people was in the streets. The timid and the virtuous were terror-stricken.
The drunken, the degraded, the ferocious held the city at their mercy.
Radical as was the party which had assembled at the Hôtel de Ville, there
was another party, composed of the dregs of the Parisian populace, more
radical still. This party was ripe for plunder and for unlimited license in
every outrage. About midnight, in a desperately armed and howling band,
they made an attack upon the Provisional Government at the Hôtel de Ville;
after a severe struggle, the assailants were repelled. The next morning the
Moniteur announced to the citizens of Paris, and the telegraph announced to
Europe, that the throne of Louis Philippe had crumbled, and that a Republic
was established in France.
We must not forget, in our stern condemnation of the brutality, the
ignorance, the ferocity of the mob, that it was composed of men—

husbands, brothers, fathers—many of whom had been defrauded of their
rights and maddened by oppression. If governments will sow the wind by
trampling upon the rights of the people, they must expect to reap the
whirlwind when their exasperated victims rise in the blindness of their rage.
Louis Philippe did not long survive his fall. He died at
Claremont, in England, on the 26th of August, 1850. The Death of Louis
reader, who may be interested to inform himself of the Philippe.
changes in France which followed this Revolution, will find them minutely
detailed in the "Life of Napoleon III."

THE END.

Footnotes
[A] See Abbott's History of Louis XIV, p. 223.
[B] Life and Times of Louis Philippe, King of the French, by Rev. G. N. Wright.
[C] Vie Anecdotique de Louis Philippe. Par MM. A. Laugier et Carpentier, p.
108.
[D] Vie Anecdotique de Louis Philippe, p. 120.
[E] A. Laugier et Carpentier, p. 132.
[F] Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N. Wright, p. 21.
[G] There have been efforts to prove that the dauphin was removed from prison,
and another child was substituted in his place, who died and was buried. Several
claimants have risen, professing to be the dauphin. But there is no evidence upon
this point sufficient to change the general verdict of history.
[H] Life and Times of Louis Philippe, p. 22.
[I] "I have another great puzzle come to me. The Queen of Sicily has sent her
son, Prince Leopold, to Gibraltar to propose himself to be regent of Spain. It
appears to me to be extreme want of knowledge of the state of Spain. The Duke
of Orleans came down with him, and on the 13th of August I discussed the
subject fully with his highness, much to his satisfaction, and he went off to
England with a light heart."—Collingwood's Correspondence.
[J] "Besides, possibly England did not think, and the exiled Bourbons of the
elder branch would naturally have concurred in the sentiment, that it would be
prudent or politic to send a gallant prince of Orleans to lead the Spaniards to
victory, a prince who was the great-grandson of that Philippe of Orleans who, by
the lustre of his talents and the many attractions of his character, became the idol
of the army and the nation."—Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N.
Wright.
[K] Wright's Shores and Islands of the Mediterranean.
[L] France in 1840. By an American—[General Cass].
[M] Life and Times of Louis Philippe.
[N] During much of his exile, Louis XVIII. had occupied the chateau of
Hartwell, in the county of Buckingham, about fifty miles from London.
[O] Life and Times of Louis Philippe.
[P] General Cass.
[Q] Abbott's Life of Napoleon, vol. ii., p. 465.

[R] Life and Times of Louis Philippe, by Rev. G. N. Wright.
[S] "England entailed a lasting disgrace upon her name by not prohibiting the
execution of a vengeance so long delayed; by not claiming as her victims those
brave men whom the glory of her arms had unfortunately placed at the mercy of
the Bourbons, and by allowing the French king to put those fine fellows to death
on the scaffold, whose military prowess was honorable to France."—Life and
Times of Louis Philippe.
[T] Autobiography of Madame de Genlis.
[U] "The ministers took their places in silence around the fatal table. Charles X.
had the dauphin on his right and M. de Polignac on his left. He questioned each
of his servants, one after another, and when he came to M. d'Hausrez, that
minister repeated his observations of the preceding day. 'Do you refuse?' inquired
Charles X. 'Sire,' replied the minister, 'may I be allowed to address one question
to the king? Is your majesty resolved on proceeding, should your ministers draw
back?' 'Yes,' said Charles, firmly. The minister of marine took the pen and
signed.
"When all the signatures were affixed, there was a solemn and awful pause. An
expression of high-wrought energy, mingled with uneasiness, sat on the faces of
the ministers. M. de Polignac's alone wore a look of triumph. Charles X. walked
up and down the room with perfect composure."—France under Louis Philippe,
by Louis Blanc, p. 107.
[V] Les Dix Ans de Louis Philippe, par Louis Blanc.
[W] "The Duc de Raguse found himself invested with a real military
dictatorship. His situation was a cruel one. If he took part with the insurgents, he
betrayed a king who relied upon him. If he put so many mothers in mourning,
without even believing in the justice of his cause, he committed an atrocity. If he
stood aloof, he was dishonored. Of these three lines of conduct he adopted that
which was most fatal to the people."—Louis Blanc.
[X] "The History of Ten Years," by Louis Blanc, vol. i, p. 187.
[Y] Louis Blanc, i., 359.
[Z] Moniteur, August 3, 1830.
[AA] History of the Restoration, vol. iv., p. 489.
[AB] Alison, vol. vi., p. 463.
[AC] Louis Blanc, iii., 296.
[AD] Alison, vol. vii., p. 77.
[AE] Les Dix Ans de Louis Philippe, vol. iii., p. 318.
[AF] Œuvres de Napoleon III., t. i., p. 393.
[AG] History of Europe from the Fall of Napoleon to the Accession of Louis
Napoleon, by Sir Archibald Alison, vol. iii., p. 82.

[AH] Louis Blanc.
[AI] By the laws of France the dauphin attained his majority at the age of
thirteen.
[AJ] In the British House of Lords the Crown will often carry a measure by a
similar action. By the Constitution of the Empire in France, under Napoleon III.,
this was rendered impossible.
[AK] Abbott's Life of Napoleon III., p. 87.
[AL] Alison.
[AM] Mémoires de la Duchesse de Berri, pp. 87-90.
[AN] "The History of Ten Years," by Louis Blanc, vol ii., p. 453.
[AO] Vie de Louis Napoleon, t. i., p. 22.
[AP] Alison, vol. iii., p. 206.
[AQ] Alison, vol. viii., p. 193.

Transcriber's Notes:
1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetter's errors; otherwise,
every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.
2. The sidenotes used in this text were originally published as banners in the
page headers, and have been moved to the relevant paragraph for the
reader's convenience.
3. The final 11 paragraphs of Chapter IX in the original publication, which
appear to be out of context and which were duplicated in Chapter XI, have
been removed from this e-book. As a result, page numbers 301 thru 305 do
not appear in this e-text.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOUIS PHILIPPE
***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be
renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law
means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the
Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States
without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying
and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the
PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a
registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook,
except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying
royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge
anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is
very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg
eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do
practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by
U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license,
especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any
other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you
agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg License
available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing
Project Gutenberg electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg electronic work,
you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the
terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright)
agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement,
you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg
electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy
of or access to a Project Gutenberg electronic work and you do not agree to
be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on
or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be
bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can
do with most Project Gutenberg electronic works even without complying
with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a
lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg electronic works if you
follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to
Project Gutenberg electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation”
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual
work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are

located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works
based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are
removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg
mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing
Project Gutenberg works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for
keeping the Project Gutenberg name associated with the work. You can
easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg License when you
share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a
constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the
laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before
downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating
derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg work.
The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status
of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg work (any work on which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project
Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied
or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License included with
this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in
the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country
where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is derived from
texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice
indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the
work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without
paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a
work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on
the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs
1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is posted with the
permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply
with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed
by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project
Gutenberg License for all works posted with the permission of the
copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg License
terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any
other work associated with Project Gutenberg.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently
displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or
immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg work in a format other than “Plain
Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the
official Project Gutenberg website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no
additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of
exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work
in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format
must include the full Project Gutenberg License as specified in paragraph
1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing,
copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg works unless you comply
with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to
or distributing Project Gutenberg electronic works provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the
use of Project Gutenberg works calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the
owner of the Project Gutenberg trademark, but he has agreed to donate
royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days
following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to
prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly
marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about
donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does
not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You
must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works
possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all
access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.

• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution
of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in
this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project

Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3
below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works
not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and
the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as,
but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription
errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or
damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that
damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except
for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to
you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE
THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT
EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE
THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY
DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE
TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL,
PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE
NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you
discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you
can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the
defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund.
If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to

you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work
electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you
may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the
problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in
paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING
BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR
FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or
limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable
to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum
disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity
or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that
arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause
to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg work, (b)
alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg
work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project
Gutenberg

Project Gutenberg is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic
works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including
obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the

efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of
life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance
they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg’s goals and ensuring
that the Project Gutenberg collection will remain freely available for
generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for
Project Gutenberg and future generations. To learn more about the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations
can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)
(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of
Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service.
The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541.
Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax
deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s
laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 41 Watchung Plaza #516,
Montclair NJ 07042, USA, +1 (862) 621-9288. Email contact links and up
to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and
official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the
number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment

including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are
particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States.
Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort,
much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these
requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not
received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or
determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit
www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have
not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against
accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us
with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any
statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the
United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods
and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including
checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit:
www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg
electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with
anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg
eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions,
all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a

copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in
compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility:
www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg, including how
to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation,
how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email
newsletter to hear about new eBooks.