\THE COURT OF THE TUILERIES FROM THE RESTORATION TO THE FLIGHT OF LOUIS PHILIPPE nv CATHERINE CHARLOTTE, LADY JACKSON OLD Rl-GIME 'etc. AUTHOR OF OLD PARIS THE IN TWO VOLUMES VOL. L LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET Ipublislurs in (i">i&imu!) to 'if)rr pinjtstn tl^c ft,1uccn 1883 \All rights reserveil '^'' CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAPTER I. PAGE Introductory r CHAPTER II. A Band of Traitors — A Mysterious Agency — The Traitor Marmont — A Polite Attention — ' Where is he ? Where is he ? ' — Entry of the Allied Armies — A well-deserved soiijjlet — The Emblem of Victory — Belles amies de M. de Talleyrand — The White Cockades — Alexander and Frederick William — 'Vive Plenri Ouatre ! ' . CHAPTER III. The City of Pleasure ' — The Hetman PlatofT— The Deity of the French Nation — A Crowded Audience — A Bril- liant Show — ' Trajan ' and ' La Vestale' — Their Majes- ties' Modesty — The Glorification of Henri IV. — A Doubtful Compliment ly VOL. I. a ' vi CONTENTS OF CHAPTER IV. PAGE Return to a Wise Government — Coquetting with all Parties -^' De Bonaparte et des Bourbons' — M. de Chateau- briand — Resignation to Plate's Decree — A Sad Falhng Away — The Abdication — Prince Talleyrand expostu- lates — Interview with Alexander — An Opportunity lost — Napoleon's Humiliation — Choosing a Residence — The Great Drama is ended — Generous Enemies — Over- coming Hesitation — Resignation to Fate — Les Adieux de Fontainebleau — An Honourable Mission — Unenvi- able Notoriety 28 CHAPTER V. Realization of Hope Deferred — The Lieutenant-Gcneral of France — ' Once more I behold Fair France ! ' — An Ap- propriate Appellation — M. de Chateaubriand — Le petit chapeau k la Wellington — A Prudent and Politic Act — Rivalling the Popular Emperor — The Hotel in the Rue Ceruti — Making Peace with Heaven — The Office of Maitresse-en-titre — A Startling Change — Saint Louis and Henri Ouatre — A Grand Spectacle — In the Bosom of One's Family — The Emperor Alexander's Visits — An Objectionable Arrangement — Fraternal Sentiments — The Saintly Due d'Angoulcme — A Martial Air . . 47 CHAPTER VI. A Triumphal Promenade — The First Gentleman in Europe — The Chateau de Compicgne — The Peace of Paris — A Power in the State — Stealing a March on the Marshals — ' I promise to march with you ! ' — But a Puff of Smoke — M. Blacas' Firm Conviction — A Mere Parvenu ! — The Bourbon King's Motto — Forcing the King's Hand — High time to show ourselves— Elba and Paris . . 67 THE FIRST VOLUME. vii CHAPTER VII. r.\Gi-' A Disappointment — Soldiers of the Restoration- — Louis XVIII.'s Entry into Paris — The Duchesse d'Angouleme — An Avenging Angel — The Toilet of the Old Regime — An Expressive Gesture — ' Au revoirh, Paris' — Smooth- ing the Way for the King — An Idealized Portrait — The Old Guard and the New King — ' Memoires d'outre- tombe' — Justly Expelled 8i CHAPTER VIII. The Merry Month of May — A New Sensation — In Port at last — A Search for an Old Spinette — The Great Ones of the Earth — King Solomon in Paris — Making hay while the sun shone — ' Les Anglais pour rire' — Milors and Miladis — The King at the Grand Opera — Gazing on Royalty — Smiles for the New Nobility — Pearls and Nodding Plumes — The King and his Allies at the Opera — Putting on the Curb — Excuses for the Duchesse — Marrying Madame Royale — An Inattentive Audience — Life at La Bagatelle 94 CHAPTER IX. Grand Marshals of the Empire — The ' Bravest of the Brave' in Tears — Salon of the Duchesse d'Abrantes — The Governor of Paris — An Extravagant Pair — Death of General Junot — Royal Promises — The Right of the Tabouret — Living on Vain Hopes — The Polonaise — A Faithless Friend — Royal Condescension — Death of Josephine 11; CHAPTER X. .Signing of the Treaty of Paris — The Congress of Vienna — The Coronation talked of — Reading the Charter — Sav- ing Clauses of the Charter — The Ladies disappointed viii CONTENTS OF —Ostentatious Piety — Weighty Questions — The Angel of the Pavilion Marsan — Hopes and Fears of IVIadame de Stael — Time, as a Beautifier — Nunc Dimittis — The Flower of French Gallantry — Madame de Stael's Two Millions — M. and Madame Constant de Rebecque — Madame Recamier en voyage — The King and Queen of Naples — 'Am I then a Traitor?' — The Defence of King Joachim — A Middle-aged Lover — Reducing Adoration to Friendship — Risking Life for a Lady's Smiles . .126 CHAPTER XL Change for the Worse — Looking towards Elba — ' Sac7'e! what is that to you ? ' — A Rebuff to the ' Right Divine ' — A New Invasion — The Princes and the Fete-Dieu — The New Royal Household — The Eagle and \h& fleur de /y^'— Paying the King's Debts — Attempting the Im- possible — The King and the 'Petit Caporal' — 'It will reappear in the Spring' — A Prophetess — A Rival Priestess — The End of the World proclaimed — The' King's Levity reproved — Madame du Cayla — Seeking Change of Air — Base Ingratitude — Acted Charades . 148 CHAPTER XII. The Duchess en grajide toilette — Revival of Old Court Etiquette — Saint Louis at Dinner — ^A Royal vol-aii- Tjent — Marie Antoinette and the tabouret — A Model of Manly Beauty— A First Appearance — Royalty and the People — Despotism tempered hy chansons — ' Le Marquis de Carabas' — ' Le Vieux Soldat ' — The French Thalia — The Violets Triumphant — A Stipulation of the Treaty of Paris — The Ceremony of the Atonement — Sanson, the Executioner — Identifying the Royal Remains — ' Horrible ! most horrible ! ' — The Charter and Equal Rights — Funeral of Mdlle. Raucourt — Pompous Royal Obsequies — Taken by Surprise 168 THE FIRST VOLUME. ix CHAPTER XIII. PAGE ' The Man of Elba ' lands in France — ' The Congress is dissolved ! ' — ' I gave you due warning, Sire '■ — Roused at last — Bringing back the Corsican Ogre — Decamping without Beat of Drum — Les convenances — A Transforma- tion — Rallying round the Charter — Epigrams and chan- sons — Flight of the English Ladies — Faded Hopes — An Imperious Heroine — Packing the Travelling Carriage — On the qui vive — Flight of the ' Comte de Lille ' — Dps and Downs — The Warrior's Return — ' Vive la vieille garde ! ' 1 90 CHAPTER XIV. Departures and Arrivals — A Familiar Process — ' A Subject of Raillery '^What means shall he choose ?— A Famous Philippic — A Discreet and Devoted Friend — The Love- lorn Swain's Return — From Lille to Ghent — King of Kings — His Serene Highness in London—' Le petit Guizot' — The Lover a Councillor of State — A New Con- stitution — Approved by Madame de Stael — The Captious Lover — Honour Avenged ...... 209 CHAPTER XV. The ' Champ de Mai ' delayed — Regaining Popularity — The 14th of July and the ist of June — The Compact Com- pleted — Legislator and General — Fading Violets — Hor- tense and Josephine — A Secret Negotiation — King Joachim of Naples — ' Italy asks for Freedom ! ' — ' All is lost but life ! ' — Caroline Bonaparte — Murat lands in France — Upholding the Right Divine — To whom was the Victory due ? — Napoleon's Address to his Army — Opening of the Campaign — Narrow Escape of Bliicher — The ' Sauve qui peut ! ' of Waterloo — The Prison at Ste. Helena ......... CONTEXTS OF CHAPTER XVI. I'AGE A Second Invasion — In vain ; all in vain ! — The Frenzy of Delight — Who is this Daring Villain ? — An Imprudent Imperialist — Forming the New Ministry — Still Watch- ing and Waiting — A Reassuring Document — The Triumphant Army — Patriotic Sentiments — The Enemy's Artillery — Resuming the White Cockade — Prussian Reprisals— The Violet and i]\& Jleur de lys — 'Louis I'Inevitable'— The Ladies' Greeting to the King — Terrifying the Guilty 245 CHAPTER XVII. Great Expectations — The Sanguinary White Terror — The Duke of Wellington's Ball — Debts of Friendship — Wholesale Plundering: — A Repulse for the Duke — A Portrait of Madame Recamier— Seeking but the Tribute of a Tear — The General Amnesty — Paris stood aghast ! — The Memorials of Victory — The Horses of the Sun — Ancient Tapestry — A Lamentable Falling-ofF — A Mes- sage from Heaven^ — The Imperial Convert — A Struggle for Fame — Mystical Influence — Differing Descriptions — An Embarrassing Commission 263 CHAPTER XVIII. Pleasure, an Emigrant — Fouche in a New Character — A Marriage in High Life — Pleading in Vain for Clemency — A Chance for Benjamin Constant — ' I crave the law ! ' — The Marshal and the Monarch — Judging Marshal Ney — ' Soldiers ! do your duty ! ' — ' Spare the face — aim at the heart ! ' — The Royal Mind in a (Quandary — Counsels of the chere amie — Justifying their Position — Fouche en retraite — Eschewing Politics — Pure Royalists — An Imitator of Madame Recamier — Rival Favourites--A (jratifying Announcement ...... 283 THE FIRST VOLUME. xi j'-'j CHAPTER XIX. The Chateau of Saint-Cloud — A Model of Perfection — The Fountains of Saint-Cloud — The Exclusives — Lcs honnetes getis — A Heartrending Scene — 'Jeanne d'Arc' — Thalia and Melpomene — The Royalist Actress — Rehearsing a Love Scene — A Doubtful Compliment — 'Must he, too, have his mistresses?' — 'When mercy seasons justice' — Something about to Happen — Made- moiselle Garnerin — An Anxious Throng — Hope told a Flatterinfj Tale ........ CHAPTER XX. Matrimonial Proposals — Throwing the Handkerchief — The English Wife and Family— Preparing to receive the Bride — The Glorious 2nd of May — The Emperor and his Generals — ' Very^ sorry ; but it cannot be' — Going to Prayers — ' Peace on earth and mercy mild ' — The Saints and the Sinners — Dignity Compromised — A Hue and Cry — A Fruitless Search — Madame de la Valette— The Gallant English Officers — ' Are you, then, athirst for his blood?' CHAPTER XXI. The Memorable Event — ' Te Deiim^ madame, in all the churches' — 'What, alas! will this lead to?' — The Wedding Garments— A Painful Doubt— Awaiting the Bride — Curiosity banishing Etiquette— To the manner born — The Grand-master's Programme — A Geneial Sensation— Distressingly Hilarious— The General Har- mony Menaced— A Pretty Speech— The Marriage/7« — The Young Duchesse de Berry— The Duchess's Dressing-room — The Duchess and her Dog . . . jjf xii CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. CHAPTER XXII. PAGE Madame Royale — The Picture of a Saint — Madame Royale's Homilies — The Duke appeals to his Father — The Princess Bagration — Donizetti — Lord Byron — An Afifront to M. de Chateaubriand — Dissentient Opinions — Pretenders to the Throne — ' Let him stay where he is ' — ' Let the King in his wisdom decide ' — ' Let this pen be kept ' 353 CHAPTER XXIII. A Piece of Advice — Enforcing his Claims — Mother and Child are doing well— Assassinating the Duke — Royal Visits, Balls, and fetes — Alexander's Parting Counsel — The Due de Berry Assassinated — The Ante-room of the Opera-House — The Closing Scene .... 366 ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I. DUCHESSE d'Angoul£:me Frontispiece Emperor Alexander .... To face page 76 Mdlle Mars „ 178 Madame Recamier „ 268 DUCHESSE de BeRRI „ 340 THE COURT OF THE TUILERIES. CHAPTER I. IxNTRODUCTORY. OU may do everything, and you dare nothing. For once, then, be daring.' Thus wrote the arch-intriguer Prince Talleyrand to the allied sovereigns and their generals : and to those words and the effect they produced, far more than to the plotting, intriguing, and treachery going on on all sides in Paris, the Bourbons may be said mainly to have owed their restoration to the throne of France. For on the 23rd of March, 1814, Napoleon, having reached Saint-Dizier, put to the rout a corps of Russian cavalry, whose movements were intended to mislead him as to the actual direction in which the main body of VOL. I. B i'L A WARNING MESSAGE. the allied army was marching. Aware, how- ever, that the Austrians and Prussians were marching on Paris, he determined on an auda- cious and desperate plan for checking their advance, and gaining time, as he hoped, to reach the capital before them — the route of Troyes being then open to him. The Director of the Posts, General de La Valette, had recently despatched a warning message to Napoleon. ' The partisans of the foreigner,' he wrote, ' are holding up their heads, and are seconded by secret intrigues. The presence of the Emperor is needed, and there is not a moment to lose if the capital is to be saved.' Immediately General Dejean is sent forward to announce the Emperor's speedy arrival, and to bear his orders to the lieutenant-general — Joseph Bonaparte — and the minister of war — the Due de Feltre — to resist to the last extremit}'' ; to barricade the streets ; to fortify the houses ; to cut the outer bridges and take away the boats ; to bring eighty field-pieces of large calibre from Cherbourg and place them in battery ; to surround Paris with redoubts, and hold out till he came. To this he added — un- fortunately, as the disastrous results proved — ' If THE EMPEROR'S MANCEUVRES. 3 the enemy should advance on the capital with a force so overwhelming that to resist it would be impossible, send away the Empress- Regent and my son, with the officers of the household and the ministers, in the direction of the Loire, for I am about to manoeuvre in a manner that will probably leave you some days without any news of me,' The Emperor's manoeuvres were indeed so mysterious — announcing some new and strik- ing proof of his genius, and great fertility in expedients — that they considerably disquieted the allies, and caused them great embarrass- ment. The Emperor Alexander especially regarded their harassing consequences with alarm. So much so, that the question whether it would not be prudent to avoid incurring the risk of being shut up between insurgent pro- vinces. Napoleon's army — weakened though it was — and a city that could furnish 100,000 combatants, was actually under deliberation when M. de Talleyrand's missive reached head-quarters. By the same messenger, the royalist com-' mittee in Paris vaunted their successes in ihe south. Hesitation was at once banished from the council of the allies. The interrupted 13 2 FATAL INTELLIGENCE. march on the capital was speedily resumed, and the army, divided into three cokimns, pressed onward by forced marches, eager to reach the city, whose inhabitants — as M. de Talleyrand would fain have them believe., and as the Due d'Alberg also sent them word — ■were anxiously waiting to welcome them with palms of victory, and laurel wreaths for the conquerors' brows. In the night of the 29th, Napoleon with his guard had pushed forward fifteen leagues. But in his impatience to reach Paris ere it was too late, he determined to precede his troops — dis- reofardinor the risk he thus ran of fallinof into the hands of the enemy. In a caleche with post- horses, and accompanied by Generals Berthier and Caulaincourt, he dashes on with great speed, and at ten in the evening of the 30th halts at Fromenteau. He is then but five leagues from his capital. But there he encounters General Belliard marching with a small force towards Fontainebleau. With dejected air the general reveals the fatal intelligence — Paris had ca- pitulated only two hours before. The Em- press-Regent, whose escort had withdrawn from the defence of the city 2,500 troops, the lieutenant-general, the ministers, cScc, had THE CAPITULATION. all left for Blois, with the exception of M. de Talleyrand — -forcibly detained in Paris to wel- come the enemy, and to play the part of King of France ad interregnum. Under this desperate blow of adverse fate Napoleon is for a moment bewildered. He alights from his carriage, and, reclining on the stone seat of a fountain, becomes wrapped in thought. Speedily, however, he recovers his wonted sang-froid \ directs the Due de Vicenza — M. de Caulaincourt — to repair to Paris, to obtain his intervention in the treaty ; then orders his horses' heads to be turned towards Fontainebleau. Already he meditates a new campaign. ' Two hours ago,' he murmured, as the car- riage drove off ; and truly they were words that must have given rise to very bitter reflec- tions. Two hours later — had not capitulation been pressed upon Joseph Bonaparte by Mar- shals Marmont and Mortier, with undue haste — and the Emperor had been in Paris, when, in the words of one who accompanied the allied armies, ' a very different scene would have been enacted from that which actually took place.' The capitulation was signed at the head-quarters of the allied sovereigns at THE CONQUERING HEROES. two in the morning- of the 31st of March. At seven, the troops of Marshals Marmont and Mortier were to evacuate the city, and at noon the conquering heroes to make their triumphal entry into it A BAND OF TRAITORS. <^r CHAPTER II. A Band of Traitors — A Mysterious Agency — The Traitor Mar- mont — A Polite Attention — 'Where is he ? Where is he?' — Entr}' of the AlHed Armies — A well-deserved soiifflet — The Emblem of Victory — Belles amies de M. de Talleyrand — The White Cockades — Alexander and Frederick William — ' Vive Henri Ouatre ! ' ^^"[^^HE shoutings, acclamations, and voci- ferous vivas that greeted the foreign sovereigns and their troops on their entry into the capital of France would have eter- nally disgraced the nation had they been a spon- taneous outburst of welcome on the part of the people. The allies themselves were amazed, as well they might be, at the uproarious enthusiasm with which conquered Paris seemed to glory over its own humiliation. The page of history has not recorded many such scenes ; for probably no other beleaguered city ever contained within its walls such a band of traitors — both men and women — so eagerly bent on delivering it into the hands of a hostile force, for the fur- therance of their own petty personal interests. A MYSTERIOUS AGENCY. The allies were indebted for the ovation that greeted them to the active exertions of M. de Talleyrand, and the self-styled royalist committee, of which he was the head, the soul, and the guiding spirit. Otherwise the boulevards would have been silent and de- serted. As it was, the bo2Lrgeoisie, and all in whose breasts there glowed a spark of patriot- ism, remained in their houses. Most persons, too, who had anything to lose were anxious and disquieted concerning their property — naturally regarding with dread the influx of rough soldiers, who were shortly to be quar- tered upon them, and let loose on the city to indulcje with little or no restraint their destruc- tive and pillaging propensities. The municipality of Paris seemed to have abdicated. The police were nowhere to be seen. A few wounded soldiers, who were being conveyed to the hospitals, and here and there a straggler or deserter, alone represented the French army. Nothing had been done for the defence of Paris. Some mysterious agency seemed to favour the invaders, and to thwart and paralyze every effort to obstruct or delay their triumph. Suspicion pointed towards the minister of war — the Due de Feltre — THE TRAITOR MARMONT. believed to be acting in concert with Talley- rand. Very little fighting preceded the capitula- tion. The students of the military colleges and some of the old Invalides behaved oral- o lantly at the barrier of Clichy, under the veteran General Moncey. Of course their spirited resistance, unsupported, was soon over- come, and these posts, by arrangement, were then occupied by the national guards. They, however, were not trusted with arms, lest indignation should rouse them to attempt the repulse of the enemy ; while Marshals Marmont and Mortier waited not for the morning dawn to evacuate the city, but passed out of it in the night. Marmont on the following day gave over to General Souham the command of his corps of 15,000 men — first, for the greater convenience of carrying on a secret negotiation with M. de Talleyrand and Prince Schwartzenberg for the transfer of his services and corps d'arinde from the Emperor to his successor ; secondly, to escape the rough handling expected from the exasperated soldiers, who mutinied, and threatened him, when they became aware of his treachery and the object for which they lo A POLITE ATTENTION. were marched to Versailles surrounded by the Bavarian cavalry. They fired on their officers, shouted ' Vive FEmpereur,' and were with diffi- culty pacified. A stipulation that ' the person of Napoleon should not be sacrificed,' as he termed it, should he fall into the hands of the allies, served as a soothing balm to the prickings of conscience which this traitor — the first of the marshals to desert — seems in some slicrht de- gree to have experienced. The invisible authorities of Paris, as a polite attention to the enemy, had ordered the streets to be perfectly cleansed. They were nicely and evenly sanded too, in order that the rugged paved roads on the line of march might less impede the regular military step of the incoming hosts. As noon approached, a number of men of the working class — -the workshops and manu- factories all being closed — began to appear in the streets. There was then no sort of joyousness in their manner, rather dejection. Curiosity probably drew them from their homes, and a desire to see a grand military spectacle — always attractive to the French. This one, they are told, is the precursor of the 'WHERE IS HE?— WHERE IS HE?' ii much-needed blessing of peace. But that any display of the kind should take place uncon- nected with some victory of their own great captain, seems to most of them incredible — few minds among the people being prepared to re- ceive as a fact that he could be brought so low and utterly vanquished by those whom he so often and so easily had conquered. The chan- sonnier Beranger, who witnessed this scene, says, 'the people continually asked, " Where is he ? where is he ? " ' Paris generally that morning, but especially the quartier St.-Antoine, had been infested by a set of noisy, idle vagrants in blouses, in twos and threes, and sometimes as many as half a dozen together. Having received an ecu each for usinof their lun^js and excitinof the people that day, they rushed hither and thither brandishing pieces of white calico, striving to multiply themselves by vociferous shouting, and bawling at the top of their voices, ' Long live the allies! Loner live the Bourbons! Long live Louis XVIII.! Down with Bona- parte ! Down with the Corsican ogre !' ^ Thus low had the mighty conqueror alread)' fallen ! ^ An epithet first applied to liim by the political pamphleteer, Martainville, in an article in a journal of that morning. 12 ENTRY OF THE ALLIED ARMIES. All who listened to these fellows were urged to ' hasten to the fete of the kings, and behold what real monarchs Avere like,' ending their story with a renewed shout of ' Long live the Bourbons ! ' ' As well cry, Long live the dead,' exclaimed one or two voices in reply ; for the Bourbon race was believed by the people to have be- come extinct in the persons of Louis XVL and the Due d'Enghien. The generation thus reminded of their existence were children of the Revolution and the Empire. They knew not the Bourbons, except as an extirpated race of former task-masters, whose misrule had brought on France and her people a long train of national evils and family misfortunes. But the tramp of the infantry is heard. It comes nearer, grows louder and louder. Many who had vowed that they would not bestow even so much as a glance on these foreign foes, cannot now resist the impulse which bids them, as they declare, ' turn round and haughtily face them.' Fond of the pomp and circumstance of war, they at once become interested spectators, and gaze with more of delight than haughtiness on the really grand military procession. There are fifty thousand infantry of different nations A WELL-DESERVED SOUFFLET. 13 passing along the boulevards. They are followed by ten thousand cavalry and a train of artillery. All are well equipped, and on the whole are a fairly good specimen of the sort of troops Napoleon's young soldiers have had to fight against. As they defiled along the boulevards, General Letort/ full of suppressed indignation, was waitinof near the Madeleine to cross the road, when a voice behind him exclaimed, 'Par- dicii ! these soldiers are men, not marionnettes like ours. No wonder that such fine fellows should have given so thorough a dressing to our marmosets of conscripts.' The general turned fiercely round. The speaker was a young man of good appearance. He had a military air, and wore the red riband at his button-hole. ' May I inquire,' said the general, ' if you are a Frenchman ? ' 'I am,' was the reply. ' And a military man, I presume ? ' ' Yes,' he answered, much astonished. But the 'yes' had scarcely passed his lips when the general's hand came with considerable force in contact with the side of his face. At the same time a card was ^ He was then only colonel, but was promoted to the rank of general in 181 5 by Napoleon, who also made him one of his aides-de-camp. He was killed on the 15th of June at the battle of Fleurus, while charging at the head of his squadrons. 14 THE EMBLEM OF VICTORY. thrust into his hand, with the intimation that he or any friend he might choose to send would find the general at home any morning until twelve. When the young man recovered from his amaze- ment his assailant had disappeared. But * le Idche,' said the general, ' never made his appear- ance to call me to account for the insult he had received. I ought,' he would exclaim, working himself into a rage, when, as sometimes urged by friends, he repeated the story, * I ought to have killed him on the spot — yes, killed him, le Idche I ' It was not, then, merely the mob who enjoyed the spectacle of the march of an in- vading army into the city, but equally volatile spectators of a higher grade. At the head of this army rode the Emperor Alexander I. and the Grand Duke Constantine ; Frederick William III. of Prussia and his two sons (one the present emperor) ; the com- manders-in-chief and a brilliant staff. The staff officers wore on the left arm a white scarf or streamlet. It was an emblem of victory. Many thought it an announcement of peace ; while the error that the victors thus declared themselves champions of the Bourbon cause was widely disseminated by M. de Talleyrand BELLES AMIES DE M. DE TALLEYRAND. 15 and his emissaries : no less actively, too, by that bevy of fair friends who so zealously served him ; whom he with infinite art cajoled and flattered, and on Avhom he could always rely in matters requiring feminine acuteness and delicate subtlety to bring them to a happy issue. It was owino- to the untirincr exertions of these fair devotees that Paris was so lavishly bedecked with white calico. The ' pretty, serpent-faced Comtesse de Perigord,' and her mother the Duchesse de Courland, had urged all their acquaintances to make use of this cheap but effective decoration for the fronts of the balconies. Madame de Remusat, whose ruse for keeping Talleyrand in Paris had succeeded so well/ was more than others eager in her desire to carry out her friends' views, and to contribute towards the overthrow of the man to whom she and her husband, like so many more of the traitorous band, owed everything. Victory, peace, or the return of the Bourbons. Any or all of these, according to the fancy of the wearer or spectator, were represented in white calico ; whether fluttering on a pole, doing duty as a banner, draping the facade of a house, or traversing the brawny ' See Mdmoires de Madame la Duchesse d'Abranits. 1 6 THE WHITE COCKADES. chests of some score or two of ill-looking raga- muffins — the most conspicuous, and apparently the most enthusiastic of the crowd. Calico, torn into strips, was also being deftly made up in cockades by the feminine circle assembled in the salon of the Hotel St.-Florentin, where the Emperor Alexander's quarters were arranged, and from the windows of which the cockades descended on the crowd every few minutes like a shower of snowflakes. At each issue the Due d'Alberg (a German by the way, and recently a groveller at the feet of his Majesty the Emperor Napoleon, but now an opponent of ' the Corsican Bonaparte,' and of his claim to be a Frenchman) leaned forward and said al 3ud, ' On hrentre Ics cocartcs planches! This was to intimate to the laughing mob that they were expected to decorate themselves with the symbol of royal ism thus graciously conferred on them. All classes, however, seemed to be equally desirous of seeing the Emperor Alexander, and he certainly found immense favour with all. He was then thirty-six, but looked much younger ; being tall, handsome, and fair, and of an elegant figure. As he passed the balconies, filled with ladies and children arrayed in white ALEXANDER AND FREDERICK WILLIAM. 17 for the auspicious occasion, his graceful bow, recognized as 'pecuHarly French,' at once con- quered the hearts of these patriotic dames. On all sides broke forth a chorus of admira- tion : 'Ah! what a handsome cavalier! How graceful ! He really is charming ! adorable ! per- fect ! ' No less graciously and gracefully did he acknowledge the acclamations of the people. They pressed so eagerly upon him that his escort found it difficult to keep the admiring mob at a sufficiently respectful distance, as per- sistently they strove to kiss the dusty boots of their so-called friend and saviour. Doubtless enthusiasm is contacrious ; for after this sudden and exaggerated exhibition of it, all restraint seemed to vanish, and the joyous multitude gave themselves up to the hilarious celebration of their country's disgrace. That peaceably-disposed monarch, Frederick William HI., had met with but little attention at first from the spectators. But now a full tribute of applause is bestowed on him. It falls short of that paid to Alexander ; but, as an eye-witness of this scene remarked, ' however much his good Berliners may have loved him, he was never welcomed to his own capital with half so frantically joyous a greeting.' VOL. I. C i8 ' VIVE HENRI QUATRE /' The levity and instability conspicuous in the French character could rarely have been more strikingly displayed than on the occasion in question. True, the excitement soon gave place to soberer feelings. Yet it seems almost incredible that people who began the day saddened by forebodings of evil should, in the space of an hour or two, by the very same event that had caused their dejection, be worked up to a state of rapturous delight strongly resembling the intoxication of joy. Perhaps the vigorous performance by the foreign bands of the inspiring airs ' Vive Henri IV.' and ' Charmante Gabrielle ' had some share in producing a temporary fever of ex- citement. The glorification of the loves of that gay gallant and his beautiful mistress has always played a prominent part in welcoming a new ruler or government in France and the turning out of a fallen one. Yet none but those swayed by self-interest then dreamed of welcoming- back the Bourbons. Pride in the glories of the Empire may, however, have yielded before the satisfaction that weary minds found in the near prospect held out to them of a much-needed and enduring peace. II ' THE CITY OF PLEASURE: 19 CHAPTER III. The City of Pleasure '—The Hetman Platoff— The Deity of the French Nation— A Crowded Audience— A Brilliant Show —'Trajan' and 'La Vestale'— Their Majesties' Modesty —The Glorification of Henri IV.— A Doubtful Compliment. O sooner were the ranks broken and quarters assigned to the soldiers and numerous officers of various grades and various nations, most of whom now saw Paris for the first time, than they thronged to the pubHc promenades, the Palais Royal cafes and restaurants, and eagerly sought for the different theatres. But the directors of these establishments had the decency to close their doors, at least on the night of the 31st of March, and, on the whole, the inhabit- ants of the 'city of pleasure,' which Paris was supposed to be, were not so wholly given up to revelry as the rapturously received in- vaders had expected, it seems, to find them. In default of theatrical and other entertain- c 2 20 THE HETMAN PLATOFF. ments, the foreign visitors amused themselves by a raid on the wine stores. It was computed, by one who was present, that not less than 65,000 or 70,000 bottles of champagne — that exhilarating beverage being more in request than any other — were broached in honour of the auspicious day. Disgraceful scenes of riot ensued amongst the drunken foreign soldiery. This led to other depredations, tending further to diminish their popularity, which had greatly waned since the morning. In every house several of these marauders were quartered, and bed and board of the best, however grudgingly bestowed, must be provided for them. The ordinary fare of the Parisians did not satisfy the ravenous appetites of 'their friends the enemy.' ' No kickshaws for them. The mounseers must supply them wdth some- thing far more substantial,' and quite uncere- moniously they demanded it. The Duchesse d'Abrantes gives in her Memoires an amusing account of the ample repasts of the Hetman Platoff, and his Cossack officers, who were quartered in the lower apart- ments of the splendid hotel she still inhabited in the Champs-Elysees. In the upper rooms of the hotel (which failure of means, consequent THE DEITY OF THE FRENCH NATION. 21 on the downfall of Napoleon, compelled her ere long to dispose of, together with the rich spoils of war it contained, and all the art treasures collected by General Junot) Lord Cathcart and his staff were lodged. His influence with the ruling powers soon relieved her of the unwel- come presence of the Hetman, whose appetite caused immense annoyance to her chef. He declared that he could never succeed in appeas- ing it, however largely he prepared for and supplied it, or by any of his devices — devices which the duchess felt bound to condemn and forbid — create in the Don Cossacks or their chief the slightest loathing of food. Paris at this time exhibited unusual scenes of drunkenness, riot, confusion, and general dissatisfaction. But, as the great Frederick once wrote to D'Alembert, ' the deity of the French nation is novelty.' The novelty, there- fore, of much then surrounding them, together with the hope that a speedy peace would shortly relieve them of the presence of guests so bar- barous, enabled the Parisians to bear up for awhile under troubles which the treacherous supineness of those left in charge of the capital had brought on them. On the evening following the entry of the A CROWDED AUDIENCE. allies the theatres resumed their performances. Anxiety as to the result of the campaign had of late considerably diminished their receipts. The drooping spirits of the patriotic actors were therefore much cheered by the prospect of full houses after performing so many nights to * a beggarly account of empty boxes.' But again they sank when it was bruited about that the new-comers looked to be amused at the theatres and elsewhere gratuitously. This pretension, however, was at once disallowed by an impera- tive mandate from head-quarters. Consequently, money was then forthcoming, and enough to fill all the theatres to overflowing — florins, guineas, and ciucats streaming in in abundance and replenishing their empty treasuries. But it was at the opera-house on the ist of April where Parisians and foreigners assem- bled in G^reatest force. There Alexander and Frederick William were expected to be present. The house was packed stiflingly full from floor to ceiling almost immediately after the doors were opened. As many more spectators would have effected an entry had it been possible. As it was not, not an inch even of standing room being available, they congregated in a dense mass in the Rue de Richelieu — formino; an A BRILLIANT SHOW. 23 obstacle to the passing of a line of carriages, filled with elegantly dressed ladies for whom places were reserved, but whom the swaying crowd for a considerable time prevented from approaching the entrances. The theatre presented a brilliant show of rich and dazzlino- uniforms, to which greater effect was given by the ladies' white dresses, waving white plumes, fluttering white fans, lilies, pearls, and diamonds. There was a fair sprinkling, too, of St.-Florentin cockades, though probably very few indicated that the wearers were really partizans of the ' Right divine.' The French are prone to yield when strong pressure is put on them, and war's alarms at the gates of Paris produced in many breasts — as some French writers assert — results that in others were due to royalist principles only. It was, however, remarked that the foreign element predominated amongst the male portion of the audience ; and those who had waited for hours for the opening of the doors complained loudly of so many favoured individuals having been privately admitted be- fore the public were allowed to enter. But the audience is becoming impatient — the French part of it at least — for the royalties 24 'TRAJAN' AND 'LA VESTALE: are tardy in making their appearance. The orchestra, obedient to the demand of the people, have played ' Henri IV.,' and of course the inseparable * Charmante Gabrielle,' with great spirit as often as the many encores received have compelled them to renew these favourite and so-called monarchical airs. Yet the mighty potentates still are absent. Murmurs are be- o-inninof to be heard when the actor Derevis steps before the curtain and explains that the sudden indisposition of a principal performer makes it necessary to change the piece announced for that of ' La Vestale.' Many of the audience vehemently protest against this new arrangement, and declare that the opera of ' Trajan ' only will they listen to. This opera, composed , expressly to glorify Napoleon and his victories over the Russians and Prussians, was, strangely enough, chosen by the administration of the opera-house — perhaps as a sort of malicious pleasantry — for the occasion of the visit of the allied sovereigns. The fulsome flattery so lavishly heaped on the fallen hero at the height of his power and glory was to be transferred, for the nonce, to his triumphant foes. But the deter- mination on the part of the audience to accept THEIR MAJESTIES' MODESTY. no substitute for * Trajan ' evoked the real cause of the delay of the sovereigns in making their appearance. It was the refusal of their Majesties to accept the laudatory and flattering allusions contained in the opera selected for their visit. Derevis aeain comes forward to make this announcement of their Majesties' modesty, and to say that the Emperor of Russia has ex- pressed his own and the King's willingness to honour by their presence the performance of ' La Vestale.' The actor appeals to the ' good sense ' of the audience, and at once the imperial decision is deferentially bowed to. Alexander and Frederick William enter together, and take their" seats in the imperial box surmounted by the eaorles of France. The whole house rises. Deafening acclamations greet them. But they make their acknowledgments with some con- straint, even embarrassment, as though they feel this exuberant expression of joy to be far in excess of what the occasion requires. When, after this jubilant welcome, calmness is in some degree restored, the performers appear and ' La Vestale ' commences. But so little attention does it receive from the audience that none seem to be aware that it is given with 26 THE GLORIFICATION OF HENRI IV. the scenery of ' Trajan.' On ordinary occasions this would neither have escaped notice nor noisy remonstrances. But the object of this brilhant rdiinion was rather to fete the royal, though unbidden, guests than to listen to an operatic performance. Often indeed it was interrupted, and ' La Vestale ' herself required to sing the praises of the gallant Henri and his mistress, the whole house joining with the rest of the performers in the chorus. Both invaders and invaded in the warmth of their enthusiasm vociferated until they were hoarse, and the evening terminated with much emotional press- ing of hands and fervent embracing. All the theatres in turn were honoured by the visits of the allied sovereigns ; the souvenirs attaching to Henri IV. forming the usual theme of the pieces represented. ' Le Souper de Henri IV.,' ' Les Clefs de Paris,' were chief favourites ; while every one was sent into ecstasies when, with electrifying spirit, the orchestra struck up the eternal strains of ' Vive Henri IV.' and ' Charmantc Gabrielle.' 'The most devout ladies,' says M. Murat, ' were overwhelmed with delight while listening to the glorification of the roystering vert-galant and his belle viaitresse. Paris resounded with these A DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT. 27 supposed monarchical songs ; and nothing- better, in the estimation of all classes, could be found to welcome back the descendant of Saint Louis to his kingdom. * The orchestra of the opera-house and of the theatres generally, the little street organs, the tinkling pianos of private salons, were all unceasingly employed in celebrating the loves of Henri and his Gabrielle, in compliment to the returning Bourbons. Probably it was in- tended thus to announce that the privileges of royal personages were universal ; that the morality of ordinary human beings was no standard for them any more than it had been for Jupiter and the Olympian deities. Or, per- haps, the generous and magnanimous qualities of the great Henri were left unsung, as having perished with him ; while his vices, which alone survived , in his descendants, were the only remaining traits of resemblance between the popular monarch and his successors.' ^ Uhtstoirc par Ic Thdatrc. 28 RETURN TO A WISE GOVERNMENT CHAPTER IV. Return to a Wise Government — Coquetting with all Parties — ' De Bonaparte et des Bourbons ' — M. de Chateaubriand — Resignation to Fate's Decree— A Sad Falling Away— The Abdication — Prince Talleyrand expostulates — Interview with Alexander — An Opportunity lost — Napoleon's Humi- liation — Choosing a Residence — The Great Drama is ended — Generous Enemies — Overcommg Hesitation — Resigna- tion to Fate — Les Adieux de Fontainebleau — An Honour- able Mission — Unenviable Notoriety. HE language of the morrow was but little In harmony with the senti- mental enthusiasm displayed with such seeming unanimity at the opera fete. The majority of the bourgeoisie had no sym- pathy with those extravagant demonstrations of feeling. Many, too, who had joined in the songs and vociferous acclamations at the theatres, now regarded the position of affairs from a soberer point of view. For during the niorht the walls of Paris had been covered with a proclamation which, in the name of the Emperor Alexander, promised more favourable COQUETTING WITH ALL PARTIES. 29 terms of peace to France because of her return to a wise government. This puzzled the people, and they anxiously inquired what this wise form of government might be. The royalist committee had been active in propagating monarchical ideas by means of pamphlets, songs, and caricatures ; which, though failing in their aim to imbue the public mind with monarchical sentiments, yet had already succeeded in making the actual existence of the Bourbons a recognized fact, even by the dullest and most ignorant. But the Russian Emperor — whether M. de Talley- rand had or had not succeeded in convincing him that 'Louis XVIII. was a principle,' for the consecration of which the allies had fought — had not thought it needful to make any public declaration of his wishes respecting the Bour- bon family. He, however, was believed to be opposed to their restoration, and inclined to favour the elevation of Bernadotte to the throne of Napoleon. Again, it was whispered about that the partizans of the younger branch, already on the qui vive, had secretly suggested the Due d'Orleans as a desirable constitutional king, and that Alexander had turned no unwilling ear to 30 ' DE BONAPARTE ET DES BOURBONS: them. In a word, he was supposed to be coquetting with all parties, while maintaining the most amiable relations with the princely host of the Hotel St.-Florentin, who enter- tained him and his suite right royally.' But on the 2nd of April many conjectures were set at rest, many illusions dispelled. For on that eventful day the Senate concluded its stance with a declaration that ' Napoleon having deserted them, they felt themselves authorized to make choice of another chief for the orovern- ment of France. Consequently, as with one voice, they called their legitimate sovereign, Louis XVIII., to the throne of his ancestors.' A provisional government was appointed to guide the vessel of the State ad interim : M. de Talleyrand helmsman ; the officers and crew his humble servants. The duty of elaborating a new constitution ' in conformity with the needs and the wishes of the nation ' was assigned them. It was to be presented to the restored monarch on his arrival, and M. de Talleyrand guaranteed its acceptance. On the same day appeared M. de Chateau- briand's famous pamphlet, ' De Bonaparte et des Bourbons,' Sec. In it the great French ' Private letters of 1814. M. DE CHATEAUBRIAND. 31 writer condescends to employ the language of insult and calumny, and to designate the fallen warrior-chief by such contemptuous epithets as ' histrion, comddien ' — a mere stage king, in fact. Yet in 1802 he dedicated to him, as * the restorer of religion,' his ' Genie du Chris- tianisme.' Soon after he was attached to the Roman embassy, through the interest of Lucien Bonaparte and his sister Madame Bacciochi ; both of whom showed much kindness to M. de Chateaubriand, when, as a returning emigrant, he came back to France in poverty. Subsequently the First Consul appointed him French minister to the republic of Valais. But the sad catastrophe of the Due d'Enghien's arrest and execution induced him to resign, and to separate himself from the government of Napoleon. It has, however, been frequently asserted that Napoleon, at any time during his reign, mifjht have bougfht the chevalier's facile and influential pen, had he chosen to flatter him and pay for his services the very high price which his excessive CQfotism led him to set on them. The Emperor always declared that the difficulty was not in buying M. de Chateaubriand, but in paying the sum at which he estimated liiniscll. 32 RESIGNATIOiX TO FATE'S DECREE. His pamphlet, which was widely distributed, doubtless did good service to the Bourbon cause. When the author was presented to Louis XVIII., on his arrival at Compiegne, the King declared, with flattering exaggeration, which, as he knew the man, he knew would please, that 100,000 soldiers would have given him less valuable aid than he had derived from M. de Chateaubriand's forcible and eloquently expressed arguments. If it was so, then the pamphlet was but scantily recompensed by elevation to the peerage and a grant of 20,000 frs. For this sum the chevalier's name figured on the list of recipients of the King's bounty when a portion of the imperial treasure in the vaults of the Tuileries was divided amonofst the ravenous shoals of returninof emicrrants. Whilst the Restoration was proceeding at a rapid pace in Paris, Napoleon remained at Fontainebleau in a meditative mood, mistaken by some of those about him for resignation — resignation to fate's decree, that his career of glory was ended. Yet he had with him 50,000 soldiers devoted to him, and burning to avenge the shame of the capitulation. But Napoleon was aware that no such ardour animated his A SAD FALLING AWAY. 33 marshals. Tkey urged on him the necessity of signing an act of abdication, in order to avert the miseries of civil war, and to preserve the throne for his son. M. de Caulaincourt had arrived from Paris on the evening- of the 2nd, to announce the refusal of the allies to treat with Napoleon. They demanded his abdica- tion. That alone would satisfy his so recently obsequious Senate — now the self-elected pro- visional government. Indignant at these pretensions, he laid before his marshals a plan he had formed for marching on Paris conjointly with the corps of the Dues de Ragusa and Trevise (Marmont and Mortier). But the once intrepid lieutenants of the army of Italy listened to their chief in silence. They are now the great dignitaries of that crumbling empire they had helped to build up ; but in its fall they have no desire to share. Wiealth and honours have been heaped on them. To retain them they scruple not to desert in his hour of adversity the man who conferred them. Already, Marmont's defection is not an isolated instance of abandonment of duty for the sake of personal interests. The Dukes of Valmy and Belluna (Marshals Victor and Kellermann), with General Nansouty and VOL. I. D 34 THE ABDICATION. Others, have discarded the tiHcolore — as dear to the old repubHcans as to the Bonapartists — and adopted the white cockade. ' This sort of treachery,' says a private letter, ' excites strong feelings of contempt even amongst the party that is to be the gainer by it, and is loudly inveighed against by men who are not the warmest of Bonaparte's partizans. Others, again, look wise and whisper, ' These men are no traitors. They have taken the only way now open to them of serving their chief, and may be called a corps of generals in reserve. The idea doubtless prevails that the end is not yet, but on what it is founded does not clearly appear.' Napoleon, however, perceives that he can no longer rely on his marshals. In much bitterness of spirit, and after some hesitation, he writes and signs his abdication. But it is in favour of his son, under the regency of Maria Louisa. M. de Caulaincourt was deputed to bear this document to Paris. Marshals Oudinot, Ney, and Macdonald accompanied him ; and it was the wish of Napoleon that Marmont, of whom he had a high opinion, sliould join them. At Essone they unexpectedly met with him. PRINCE TALLEYRAND EXPOSTULATES. 35 Great was the marshal's consternation, and so great his fears lest his own private negotiation with the enemy should be affected by M. de Caulaincourt's mission, that he acknowledged having made certain proposals to Prince Schwartzenberg, the sole motive of which, he declared, was the good of the State, But Napoleon's plenipotentiaries, indignant at the marshal's presumption in treating with the enemy separately and on his own account, were disposed to arrest him. They, however, con- tented themselves with sending off a message to the Emperor, informing him that Marmont had gone over to the allies. In an order of the da)' his treason was denounced to the army of Fontainebleau, whose indignation was expressed in no measured terms. On the evening of the 4th, the Due de Vicenza and the marshals arrived at the Hotel St.-Florentin. Before they were allowed to see the Emperor Alexander, Prince Talleyrand received them in his salon, that he might ex- postulate with and reproach them. ' Gentle- men,' he said, 'what is this you would do ? Are you not aware that if you succeed in pro- claiming the regency, you compromise all who have entered this room since the 1st of April .? D 2 36 INTERVIEW WITH ALEXANDER. The number, I assure you, is not a small one. I include not myself. I would wish to be com- promised.' What this expression was intended to convey, he alone probably knew. Admitted to the presence of the Russian Emperor, Napoleon's abdication was laid be- fore him, and the regency demanded in the name of the army. Much inquietude of mind prevailed that evening among the numerous guests who passed restlessly in and out of the Hotel St.-Florentin while this interview with Alexander lasted. It was comparatively a long interview, from which many of the royalists were disposed to forbode evil. M. de Talley- rand had not been summoned to give his advice or opinion. He knew that the Emperor had a wavering mind, and might be drawn by M. de Caulaincourt, for whom he had a liking, into making some promise which, although it might not be kept, yet in the present position of affairs would prove embarrassing. But Alexander, with whom all arrangements respecting the future form of government in France appear to have rested, was as prudent as M. de Talleyrand himself could have been. Reminded that he had said, ' the allies came not to France to impose on the nation a ruler or a AN OPPORTUNITY LOST. 37 government,' he assented, and listened with complaisance to the reasons adduced in favour of Napoleon II. and the regency. However, General Dessoles, an enemy on whom Napoleon had heaped many favours, being in the cabinet — either as secretary or aide-de-camp, for the time being, to Alexander — ventured to say, ' The regency, sire, would be only Bonaparte in disguise.' The duke and the marshals retorted with asperity, and the Emperor at once put an end to the interview, observing that on so important a matter he must necessarily consult the King of Prussia, and would communicate to them the result. This communication was anxiously awaited at Marshal Ney's. It was a demand for a fresh abdication, absolute, not only as re- garded Napoleon himself, but his son and the whole of the Bonaparte family. Had the Em- peror of Austria and Prince Metternich been in Paris at this moment, they, probably, would have supported the claims of Napoleon II. and regency of Maria Louisa, for many preferred the regency to the Bourbons. But P>ancis and his minister lingered at Dijon, and lost their opportunity. Napoleon indignantly refused compliance with this new demand, and began 38 NAPOLEON'S HUMILIATION. to enumerate the resources which yet remained to him in the north, the south, the Alps, &c., with a view of renewinof the war. But this project found no adherents. The countenances of his old comrades, as they listened to him, became more and more clouded, and they re- plied to his appeals only by objections. ' Had he then,' says Baron Fain, ' but left these here- ditary dukes of the empire and passed into the room of the secondary officers, he would have found young and enthusiastic men eager to follow him. A few steps further, and he would have been saluted by his soldiers with acclamations whose warmth would have reanimated his drooping spirit, and called forth anew his wonted vigour and activity of mind. A squadron of the imperial guard dashing into Paris to the cry of " Vive I'Empereur ! " would have roused the whole population, who would have rallied to his standard to a man.' Such a result, to say the least, was at that particular juncture very doubtful. For there was a longing for peace. It was felt by all to be the great need of the nation. But the position of Napoleon was humiliating in the extreme, and it was scarcely possible that he, so recently at the height of power and glory, CHOOSING A RESIDENCE. 39 should without a terrible mental struggle bow to it. He displayed some irritation at the apathy, as he considered, with which the mar- shals regarded the dishonour of the capitu- lation, and spoke with bitter sarcasm of the con- duct of the Senate, who, when, little more than two months before, he took leave of them to open the campaign, would have licked the dust from his feet. Nevertheless, after some moments of reflection, yielding to circumstances, he silently took up a pen, wrote what the allies had demanded, and, without remark, handed the document to the Due de Vicenza, who forth- with proceeded with it to Paris. While waiting for precise information re- specting the ' honourable and independent existence promised by Alexander to Napoleon in the name of the allies, and which was to be in every way befitting the elevated position the fallen hero has held in Europe,' Talleyrand invites the Emperor's envoy to join the pro- visional crovernment. He knows that M. de o Caulaincourt is a man of ability. He is morti- fied to find that, unlike himself, he is also a man of integrity, who cannot be seduced to desert the master he has served so long because adverse fate has overtaken him. 40 THE GREAT DRAMA IS ENDED. Alexander and his cabinet council fluctuated for a time in their choice of a residence for Napoleon. Corfu, Corsica, Ferreira, and Elba were severally proposed, the preference being given to Elba, until he could be transferred to the prison England had in reserve for him. The Czar afterwards conferred with the mar- shals, individually and collectively, and having gained over Macdonald to his views, Marmont and one or two others being already secured, it was determined to offer Napoleon the island of Elba 'for a retreat' A revenue of six mil- lion francs was proposed — three for himself and Maria Louisa, and three as a provision for his brothers and sisters. His retention of the title of Emperor was also conceded. But M. de Caulaincourt and Marshal Ney vehemently op- posed this arrangement, and again urged the appointment of a regency. Alexander, how- ever, was firm, repeating the determination of the allies not to treat with Napoleon. A private letter from Paris of the ,7th says, ' The great drama is ended. Bonaparte's answer was awaited here by the ruling powers with intensest anxiety, which, under present circum- stances, would to most persons seem singular. The truth is, the army cannot be trusted. To abandon the tricolore, with its associations of GENEROUS ENEMIES. 41 liberty and glory, for the white flag and white cockade ^ is to many regiments, both officers and men, a very sore trial indeed, A signal from one, whom even Talleyrand acknowledges to be the " first soldier in the world," would at this moment certainly cause a great commotion, and possibly something more. But Marshal Ney has written that Bonaparte accepts a resi- dence at Elba, and desires that his wife and son may rejoin him without delay. About this, however, there is some doubt.' After reading the treaty conferring on him the sovereignty oi Elba, with pensions to himself and his brothers and sisters, Napoleon took offence at the pretension of the allies to regu- late, as he said, 'the destiny of every member of his family,' and refused to sign it. A courier was sent after M. de Caulaincourt to order the withdrawal of his abdication. But it was too late. The allies or their representatives had signed the treaty on the i ith. His messenger further informed him that the Comte d'Artois entered Paris on the 12th, and that the Empress and his son would not be permitted to join him, or even to bid him adieu. Maria Louisa was utterly wanting in de- ^ A decree of the 9th abolished the former and ic-cstablishcd the latter. 42 OVERCOMING HESITATION. cision of character, therefore quite unequal to sustaining the part of heroine, as she had then an opportunity of doing. Duty pointed one way, inchnation drew her another. Full of per- plexity she placed herself under the protection and guidance of the allies, and was very readily detached from the interests of her husband and son, and of her adopted country. ' Nearly all Napoleon's princes and dukes,' the letter above quoted continues, 'have forsaken him. Even Berthier, they say, after biting his nails to the quick until they ran blood — appa- rently under the influence of some strong feeling that for a while held him back — has overcome his hesitation, and, following the example of others, proved faithless at the last. It remains to be seen how these men and the people gene- rally will like their most Christian king when they get him. We, however, very much doubt whether those who are to succeed the fallen giant are likely, with their base intrigues, rest- less ambition, and personal animosities — already but too apparent — to restore peace and pro- sperity to France.' The many afflicting and humiliating circum- stances with which it was sought to embitter the fall of Napoleon, together with the almost RESIGNATION TO FATE. 43 total abandonment and solitude in ^vhich he felt himself at Fontainebleau, produced in him the most poignant mental anguish. Reacting on his already unstrung constitution, it resulted, on the night of the 14th of rVpril, in that intense bodily sufferino- which has been sometimes ascribed to poison. Failing, it has been asserted, to find the relief he sought in death, he whispered to M. de Caulaincourt — who, with Count Bertrand and the Due de Bassano, was then staying at the palace — ' God does not wish it.' M. de Caulaincourt, however, denied this, as did his other two friends, who were present also. They attributed his sufferings on that mysterious night solely to a paroxysm of intense agony of mind reacting on the body. On the morrow, greater resignation to his fate was the only change observable in him. He asked for the treaty (the treaty of Fontaine- bleau) which he had rejected, and at once signed it. It crratified him to hear that Marshal Soult had successfully attacked Lord Wellington at Toulouse on the loth, as it confirmed him in his conviction that he might have implicitly relied on his army had he resumed hostilities, and even have still placed confidence in some of his generals. It may have been also a 44 LES ADIEUX DE FONTAINEBLEAU. cheerino- conviction held in reserve for the future. He knew not yet of Augereau's base conduct at Lyon, and the insulting proclamation in which he made known to the troops the downfall of their chief. The allies now announced that Napoleon was free to depart. Four commissioners, re- presenting Russia, Austria, Prussia, and Eng- land, with a small escort, were to accompany him. At noon on the 20th of April the old guard was drawn up in the court of honour. Napoleon, wearing a general's uniform, with the historical grey overcoat and three-cornered hat, soon after appeared on the grand terrace. Slowly he descended the steps and passed along the lines of his old companions in arms. His address and his adieux to these scarred and weather - beaten soldiers were alike solemn, touching, and dignified. They were listened to with deep emotion, and he was himself much affected, his voice losing firmness as he uttered his last words — ' Adicti, mcs cnfants I Ales vociix voiLS accompagncront toiijoiirs ! ' It was the will of M. de Talleyrand and his royalist accomplices that one continued demon- stration of hatred and hostile feelinof should attend Napoleon on his journey to Frejus, and AJV HONOURABLE MISSION. 45 no pains were spared by their emissaries to incite the people to insult him. This was meant, probably, to justify his assassination, which Baron Maubreuil was commissioned to find means of accomplishing. So, at least, he persistently declared in the face of Europe, and to the face of M. de Talleyrand himself That he was officially charged to \vaylay the prin- cess of Bavaria — Jerome Bonaparte's wife — in the forest of Fontainebleau, and rob her of her money and jewels, is well known ; also that he did it effectually and to the satisfaction of his princely employers.^ However, in spite of all efforts to raise a ^ It was this same Baron Maubreuil whom the provisional government commissioned to recruit soldiers for the army of the Restoration. For five days his head-quarters were in the Place Vendome, where the most disgraceful scenes occurred. None perhaps more disgraceful than the attempt of a mob of ragged ruffians (Bourbon sans-ailottes) to overthrow the statue of Napoleon. The attempt proving unsuccessful, a number of young men of noble family — the sons of returned emigrants — to prove their hatred of the ' usurper,' harnessed themselves together with these vagrants like a gang of convicts, and, a rope being put round the neck of the statue, did their best to pull it from the summit of the column raised to the glory of the French arms. Vain were all their efforts, happily, probably, for themselves. However, these zealous royalists were resolved that the statue should fall with the hero it represented. Delau- ney, its founder, was therefore sought, and, under pain of military execution, was ordered by Count Rochechouart to take down the statue, in expiation of the crime of having so firmly fixed it on its lofty pedestal. — Anqiietil. 46 UNENVIABLE NOTORIETY. contrary cry, 'Vive I'Empereur ! ' resounded through every town and village on the road, even to the frontiers of Provence. The assassin found no opportunity of unsheathing his dagger, or he may have recoiled from the dark deed, and thus Elba was reached in safety. Avignon was certainly avoided — a city which, but a year later, obtained the unenviable notoriety of being the scene of murder and crime more horrible, more revolting and cruel than any of the san- guinary deeds of the Reign of Terror. Several detachments of Marshal Augfereau's corps were met on the road returning from Lyon. They saluted their Emperor with the customary honours, cheered him with enthu- siasm, and shouted, ' Sire, Marshal Augereau has sold your army.' On the 3rd of May he anchored in the road- stead of Porto Ferrigo, and was received with a salute of 10 1 guns. On the 4th he landed. The whole population of his islet empire, headed by the municipality and the clergy, had assembled to greet him with joyous acclamations expres- sive of their goodv/ill and gladness. REALIZATION OF HOPE DEFERRED. 47 CHAPTER V. Realization of Hope Deferred— The Lieutenant-General of France — ' Once more I behold Fair France ! ' — An Appro- priate Appellation — M. de Chateaubriand — Le petit chapeau k la Wellington— A Prudent and Politic Act— Rivalling the Popular Emperor — The Hotel in the Rue Ceruti— Making Peace with Heaven — The Office of Maitresse-en- titre— A Startling Change— Saint Louis and Henri Ouatre — A Grand Spectacle — In the Bosom of One's Family — The Emperor Alexander's Visits — An Objectionable Arrange- ment—Fraternal Sentiments— The Saintly Due d'Angou- leme— A Martial Air. "HILE preparations were making at Fontainebleau for the departure of Napoleon, the Bourbons singly and at short intervals made their appearance in Paris. Louis XVIII. was still at Hartwell, unable, in fact, to leave it. He was suffering from the reaction caused by the realization of hope deferred. So much was he overwhelmed with delight when on the 5th of April he was informed that the throne of France, which for so many years he had sighed to sit on, and so unscrupulously had sought to displace liis brother, was vacant for him, that he was near 48 THE LIEUTENANT-GENERAL OF FRANCE. losing the enjoyment of this cherished wish of his heart by intense nervous emotion at the moment of its fulfilment. Several days elapsed before his favourite medical attendant, le Pere Elisee, thought him sufficiently calmed down to set out for that France to which M. de Talleyrand so obsequiously invited him, as the ' well-beloved of the nation ; the long-desired monarch whose return was so yearned for, and who was so earnestly prayed to come quickly.' 'Fine words!' exclaimed the Kinof. But he put not the smallest faith in them ; for, as Cardinal Maury said, ' the Comte de Provence knew the Bishop of Autun well, and was more riis^ even than he.' The first of the family to present himself to the longing eyes of the Parisians was the Comte d'Artois, self-created Lieutenant- General of the kingdom. M. de Talleyrand, however, suggested his being welcomed to Paris as Monsieur — the title always borne by the king's eldest brother under the old regime. On the I 2th of April, a charming spring day, he arrived at the barrier of Bondy, attended by a numerous retinue of royalist emigrants and several priests, and escorted by a detachment of troops from Lord Wellington's army. He and his son, the 'ONCE MORE I BEHOLD FAIR FRANCE!' 49 Due d'Angouleme, had been staying for protec- tion at the EngHsh head-quarters in the south, while awaiting M. de Talleyrand's signal to enter the capital. The members of the provisional govern- ment went in a body to receive him. M. de Talleyrand, being their president, was also their spokesman. In his most winning manner he begged Monsieur to ' condescend, with that celestial goodness which had ever characterized his illustrious house, to accept his and his col- leagues' homage of religious attachment and respectful devotion.' The Count bowed and smiled, then stammered out in reply some few unconnected, unintelligible words, from which none could gather any meaning. But Talley- rand, knowing that Monsieur was not gifted with an eloquent tongue, came to his rescue, and, purposely, the rest of his mutterings were lost in an enthusiastic outburst of loyal vivas. How it must have surprised Monsieur, if he looked at the ' Moniteur ' of the following- morning, to find that all unconsciously he had really made a spirituel reply to M. de Talle}- rand's address — * Once more I behold fair France. Nothing is changed there, unless it be that it contains one more Frenchman." But VOL. I. E so AN APPROPRIATE APPELLATION. alas! he was not so well inspired. It was but the happy thought of M. de Beugnot, the editor, who, consulting with his editorial colleagues, declared that ' it would not do to report the Comte d'Artois' entry into Paris without attri- buting a speech of some sort to him.' The above brief and telling phrase, by many con- sidered ' charmingly ' patriotic, occurred at that moment to M. de Beugnot. It was at once adopted and sent forth to the world as spoken by Monsieur. This seemed very like a pro- mise to those who were in the secret, and the promise undoubtedly was realized, that the epithet ' Menteur,' so long applied to the ' Moniteur ' under the imperial rdgime, would be a no less appropriate appellation under the new order of things. Besides the members of the provisional government, a cavalcade of between two and three hundred royalist gentlemen rode out to the barrier to greet Monsieur on his return to the land of his birth. The Chevalier de Chateau- briand was one of them, and was especially presented to him. A copy of the famous pamphlet was at the same time handed to Monsieur, and a hope expressed that he would condescend to honour its author by reading it. ^^I. DE CHATEAUBRIAND. 51 ' Otherwise,' says the astonished Chevaher, in his ' Memoires d'outre-tombe,' 'he would not have recollected my name. For he had no idea of having seen me at the Court of Louis XVI., or at the camp of Thionville, and doubtless had never heard of the "Genie du Christianisme "! ' What a blow this must have been to the vanity of ^I. de Chateaubriand, who was a fluent, poetic, and able writer, but believed himself to be the grreatest o-enius of that aee or of any preceding one, and universally known and accepted as such. But then, Monsieur was no reader, and had not the wonderful memory with which his elder brother Louis XYIIL was gifted — a memory that enabled him to recognize at any distance of time a person whom he had once seen, and, though his attainments were shallow, to dazzle, with his endless quotations from Latin authors, those who were not profound scholars them- selves, by seeming to possess all learning and all knowledge. But when Monsieur was made to compre- hend that this Chevalier de Chateaubriand's pamphlet contained much eloquent abuse of the ' Corsican usurper,' and, as might have been E 2 52 LE PETIT CHATEAU A LA WELLINGTON. added, equally eloquent and untruthful praise of the Bourbons, he bowed with his accustomed infinite grace, and blandly smiled his approval. His great forte, as every one knew, lay in bow- ing and smiling ; but his capacity for treating of the affairs of the kingdom which now de- volved on him in the post to which he had appointed himself, was expressed by the phrase that he had no more brains than a hare. His mother, the Princess of Saxony, was distin- ouished amono^ the ladies of the Court for her graceful bowing and daring riding. The Count alone of her family inherited her grace and equestrian skill. His indifference to the public feeling was shown on the occasion in question by his wear- ing the military hat or cap called the ' petit chapeau a la Wellington,' and otherwise affect- ine the Enorlishman in his dress. The national guard, drawn up at the barrier, and deputed to escort him thence into Paris, took great offence at this glaring indiscretion. Already much aggrieved by the arbitrary and impolitic substitution of the white cockade and banner for the long cherished tricolore, they expressed their disapprobation in loud and angry mur- murs. But the lieutenant-general's gross mis- A PRUDENT AND POLITIC ACT 53 take was adroitly turned to his advantage by a member of the provisional government whose chateau was in the vicinity. Very humbl)' he requested that Monsieur would do him the honour to rest there awhile before entering the capital, and his request was condescendingly complied with. After a short interval Monsieur reappeared. To the astonishment of the citizen soldiers he wore the uniform of a colonel of the national guard. Presumably it had been provided for him, and M. de Talleyrand may have done him that service. His forethought and foresight were certainly as remarkable as his activity in smoothing the path for the returning Bourbons. Vivas loud and long now greeted the Count, for many of the guard were simple enough to believe that he had retired to make the change in compliment to them, as his new escort. They were therefore as over-anxious to applaud as they considered they had been over-hasty to murmur. The Comte d'Artois' ' prudent and politic act ' was reported in Paris, and much credit awarded him in consequence ; while the con- stitutional party's hopes and expectations for the future ran high, based on this slightest of 54 RIVALLING THE POPULAR EMPEROR. foundations. It would never have occurred to the Comte d'Artois to be guilty of such a con- cession to the feelings or prejudices of the people, if those who knew better than he the real state of public opinion in Paris had not counselled the change, and impressed on him its importance and necessity.^ The old dowaofers of the Fauboursf St.- Germain, who had contrived to exist in France during the Revolution, or had returned to it when Bonaparte became First Consul (though neither of these was favourably received, if tolerated, at the Court of the Restoration), were in ecstasies at the arrival of their ' Galaor,' as they called him, the ' vrai chevalier francais.' This gay gallant — the insolent, arrogant roud of the depraved Court of their early days, when the misguided Marie Antoinette was queen — would prove, they prophesied, a formidable rival to the popular Emperor. During the ten or twelve days that the allies had occupied Paris, Alexander was said to have conquered the capital on his own account. He had acquired such a reputation for wisdom as to be named the ' Solomon of the North.' All classes looked up to him, and ^ Private letters of 1 814 and 181 5. THE HdTEL IN THE RUE CERUTI. 55 he was popular even with the army. The Parisians accepted him as their king — at least in a political sense, and while waiting the arrival of Louis XVIII., another Solomon, no less 'fin, faux, et adroit ' (to quote Napoleon's words) than he. But this all-conquering Russian Czar reigned also with absolute sway as king of hearts in the salons, whether presided over by ladies of the old or the imperial rdgime. It was suspected that he preferred the latter, as he was so fre- cjuent a visitor in the Rue Ceruti at the hotel of Oueen Hortense. But there, or elsewhere, form and ceremony were dispensed with as much as possible in compliance with his wish ; he setting the example by his own great affa- bility. His manners were fascinating, ' adorable,' as the ladies in chorus continued to exclaim whenever he was mentioned. Courteous and gallant towards all, both old and young, he undoubtedly was, and perhaps something more than that towards one or two whom he espe- cially delighted to honour. Alexander, however, was young — several years younger than the Comte d'Artois' elder son, the Due d'Angouleme. And besides that the Count, once ' the glass of fashion and mould 56 . MAKING PEACE WITH HEAVEN. of form,' was now verging on sixty, and that a dissipated life, together with the ordinary results of the withering hand of time, had wrought a very marked change in him personally, a change no less marked had come over him in spirit — the ddbatichS had become a devotee ! His last nuiUi'esse-en-titre, the Marquise de Polastron, whom an illness had carried off prematurely, repented of the irregularities of her life when on her death-bed. Having thus, as she believed, made her peace with heaven, and secured happiness in the next world when compelled to renounce the pleasures of this, she implored ' her Charles ' to follow her pious example. Then, though for a brief space they must be separated, they would meet again, and the liaison which the Fates so cruelly severed in this world would be happily and lastingly renewed in the next. Charles complied with the request of his marquise. He abstained from riotous living, confessed and received absolution. Time in- deed it was, that one who had already reached the sere-and-yellow-leaf stage of life should cease to sow wild oats. From the arms of his mistress, then, he rushed into the arms of the Jesuits, by whom he had been brought up, and THE OFFICE OF MAITRESSE-EN-TITRE. 57 who received with gladness their repentant prodigal son. He did not proclaim, like his great ancestor Henri IV., when death snatched from him his charmine Gabrielle, that ' his heart was cold and dead to love, even to its very root, so that the tender passion could never again live and flourish there.' Yet it was generally whispered about that, as in the case of that gallant monarch, who, after a short season devoted to sadness and mourning, discovered that a corner of his heart had escaped the withering blight he supposed had fallen wholly upon it, so it had happened with the gay Comte d'Artois, now the pious Monsieur. However, no recognized viaitresse-en-titre had hitherto succeeded the Marquise de Polastron. And as that high office had been abolished in France — at least in name— ever since the time of Madame du Barry, it was probably not one of the many projected revivals of the usages and customs of the good old Bourbon days. Monsieur was welcomed to Paris with joyous acclamations by the royalists, both old and new, and by the Parisian public with keen curiosity. The French have a weakness for a graceful tounnu'e. And as the Comte d'Artois, notwith- 58 A STARTLING CHANGE. Standing- his worn, expressionless countenance, was still in personal appearance the most pre- sentable of his family, it was well that he should be seen of the people first. He was an excellent horseman, bowed gracefully, smiled pleasantly, if somewhat simperingly, when he was pleased, and bore himself with that air of grand-seigiieiL7% supposed to be the special attribute of hio^h birth and breedinor under the old rSgime. Early in the day he attended mass at Notre Dame, where a Te Detim and Domine Salvtim were given with grand orchestral accompani- ments. The church was thronged with ladies, who of course were much affected by the sanc- timonious earnestness with which their prince bore a part in the service. Afterwards, he took possession of the Tuileries in the name of Louis XVIII. There, even he must have been startled b}- the change. In that ancient royal residence, abandoned by the Bourbons, all now was splendour, where, when Louis XVL and his queen, driven from Versailles to Paris by the insurgent mob, were compelled to reside in it, they found only bare walls to shelter them, a bed and a few chairs being borrowed for the night of their arrival. In the evening the pro- SAINT LOUIS AND HENRI QUATRE. 59 visional government gave a ball, which the Comte d'Artois graced by his presence, smiled and bowed indefatigably, and appeared to be guileless as a dove, if not as wise as a serpent. The Due d'iVnorouleme — a second Saint Louis, according to royalist reports — had en- tered Bordeaux under the fostering wing of Marshal Beresford, and there proclaimed Louis XVIII. While awaiting orders to proceed to I^iris, he was wandering from village to village and town to town, to accustom the people, he said, to the presence of their legitimate princes. His brother, the Due de Berry, had a less saintly reputation. He was more given, like his father in his youth, to worldly pleasures and makin"' love to les belles than to mass and confession. France was therefore told to expect in him another Henri IV. For some weeks he had been waiting in Jersey, in anxious expectation of the result of the campaign. On the 14th he landed at Cher- bourg, provided by Louis XVIII. with a set of harangues to be spoken to the people of Rouen and other towns on his route to Paris. His oratory made an unfavourable impression : the burden of his message being, ' I'renchmen, we 6o A GRAND SPECTACLE. return to you, forgetting the wrongs of the unfortunate past ! ' Having blurted this out, as though under the influence of strong emotion, he melted into tears and sank on the breast of any one of the authorities of the town who ,chanced to be nearest to him. All this was regarded as an amusing farce ; even Napoleon's renegade marshals sneered at his seemingly irrepressible emotion when, on being presented to him, he rushed into their arms, embraced them severally, and in gasping utterances expressed an earnest wish that his sentiments of affection towards them mis^ht be reciprocated. The duke's promenade from Cherbourg to Paris was accomplished very leisurely ; in all probability that he might not divide honours with Francis 1 1, and his minister Count Metternich, who reached Paris a few days before the valiant Due de Berry. The Emperor of Austria's entry into Paris was a very grand spectacle — a great display of military pomp, the whole of the troops of the allied armies lining the streets and boulevards on either side along the route taken by the procession. To give greater effect to it, vehicles of every kind were prohibited from passing to and fro, and all were invited to add to the IX THE BOSOM OF ONE'S FAMILY. 6i splendour of the triumphal march of the modest Emperor Francis by decorating the fronts of the houses. Flags of all nations were available for mingling with the white calico that represented France. The iricolore only was proscribed. Though so dear to the hearts of the people, it was no longer their national flag. It was therefore put out of sight — laid up carefully in lavender, to be brought out in triumph on some future day. Henri and his Gabrielle played as usual a conspicuous part in the proceedings of the day. And there was revived on this occasion the almost forgotten old tune, 'On pczU-onctremieux quaiL sein de sa famillc ? ' (Where can one be better than in the midst of one's family /^), that so constantly greeted Louis XVI. after the failure of his attempts to withdraw from the midst of his large family of rebellious subjects. It was rather a mocking song of welcome for one whose family had just been rejected by the Government that received him with such excessive parade and homage. It would almost seem that the Emperor Francis and his second self, Count Metternich, had purposely delayed their arrival until the Russian Emperor, in the name of the allied 62 THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER'S VISITS. sovereigns, had finally refused to acknowledge Napoleon II. and the regency of Maria Louisa. Yet it is recorded that both emperor and minister were annoyed that the settlement of so weighty a question had taken place in their absence — the grand ceremony of their entry by no means compensating for the disappointment. But ' everything,' Count Metternich said, * was thoughtlessly accepted in Paris, as if nothing in the world was serious.' Maria Louisa (now with marked affectation always spoken of as the Archduchess), per- plexed and irresolute, had left Blois with her son for a few days' sojourn at the Petit Trianon. Thence she repaired to Rambouillet, where she awaited her husband's departure and her father's arrival, in order to set out on her return to Vienna. The Emperor Alexander visited her at Rambouillet, as he visited Josephine at La Malmaison, and the ex-Queen Hortense (now Madame Louis Bonaparte) in Paris. It was the general opinion that he ought not to have paid any of those visits, and that he should have especially refrained from presenting him- self at La Malmaison. But Josephine, with characteristic thoughtlessness, was as anxious as others to sec the amiable sovereign of the AN OBJECTIONABLE ARRANGEMENT. 63 Cossacks and Baskirs, who had taken Paris and the Parisians under his protection, and was reported to her as more generous, more courteous, and more pohte than were the de- scendants of Saint Louis. To admire Alexander had become a fashion with the ladies. They spoke of him with rapture, and Josephine's tribute of admiration was no less enthusiastic than the rest. It was perhaps not wholly disinterested. She was anxious to obtain from the omnipotent Czar some definite promise respecting her title of Empress, which she was unwilling to exchange for that of Duchesse de Navarre, as had been suggested to her. She had also a vague idea of accompanying Napoleon to Elba, as Maria Louisa was not permitted to do so, had she even been disposed. According to Madame Junot, it was Madame de Remusat who encou- raged Josephine to carry out this idea. It may, however, be considered certain that such an arrangement, had it been attempted, would have been strongly objected to by Napoleon, and no less so by his mother and sister, who, with more propriety, were about to become companions of his exile. The whole of the Bonaparte family had left 64 FRATERNAL SENTIMENTS. or were leavinsf France. The Princess Pauline was in Provence. Madame Lsetitia and her brother Cardinal Fesch were to set out for Rome on the i/th. Jerome and Joseph had gone no one knew whither, but with the inten- tion of proceeding, when opportunity offered, to America. Caroline Bonaparte still wore her crown and reigned at Naples. Only at her instance, it was firmly believed, had the intrepid, dauntless Murat, who often quailed before his imperious wife, consented to turn against Napoleon and join the coalition. Lucien was in England. Louis XVIII., judging Lucien's fraternal sentiments by his own apparently, is said to have suggested to Lucien that he should return to France with him. But Lucien replied that, * while his brother was an exile, he would never set foot on the soil of France.' On the 2ist, the day after Napoleon's de- parture, the Due de Berry arrived. He had a long harangue prepared for the edification of the authorities who went to the barrier of Clichy to receive him. Again he exhibited strong emotional feeling, and renewed his assurances that he and his family returned to France forgetting the wrongs of the past. But, except to the royalists, the Due de Berry THE SAINTLY DUC UANGOUL^ME. 65 was not exactly the Henry IV. the Parisians expected. He was a pigmy in stature, with a rather large head, which, from the shortness of his neck, seemed driven down between his shoulders. His temper was haughty and iras- cible, his voice harsh, and his movements were brusque, denoting an angry and impetuous spirit. When in a placid mood his countenance was not unpleasing. His eyes were fine, and his smile pleasant, displaying a good set of teeth. He was thirty-six years of age, and, as far as his more limited resources TDermitted, had followed a career of dissipation similar to that which had made the heyday of his father's youth so notorious. The last to appear, heralding the arrival of the Comte de Provence, now fully recognized as Louis XVHI., King of France, was the saintly Due d'Angouleme. His extreme obesity, his unwieldy movements, and that swaying of the body peculiar to this branch of the Bour- bons—as though the feet and ankles supported the ponderous mass with difficulty — were as remarkable in him as in his uncles Louis XVT. and XVHI., the fattest of the fat Dauphin's fat family. Notwithstanding his saintly reputa- tion, his entourage of Jesuit priests, his i3raycrs VOL. I. V 66 A MARTIAL AIR. and masses, the Due d'Angouleme was of a violent and arrogant temper. He was under the delusion that he was a very great sol- dier, possessed of a military genius surpassing Napoleon's, but wanting opportunity for its development. However, with his enormous bulk and rosy fat face, he had less of the martial air and bearing of a soldier than that comfortable one of a well-fed abbot, or prior, of the old regime — one of those sleek, sleepy, and pious priests, fonder of the pleasures of the table than of fasting, penance, and prayer. A TRIUMPHAL PROMENADE. 67 CHAPTER VI. A Triumphal Promenade — The First Gentleman in Europe — The Chateau de Compiegne^The Peace of Paris — A Power in the State — Stealing a March on the Marshals — ' I promise to march with' you ! ' — ^But a Pufif of Smoke — i\I. Blacas' Firm Conviction — A Mere Parvemt ! — The Bour- bon King's Motto— Forcing the King's Hand — High time to show ourselves — Elba and Paris. SHE restoration of Louis XVHI. may be said to have been inaugurated in London, where he arrived from Hartwell on the 20th of April, at Grillon s Hotel in Albemarle Street, which had been en^aeed for his temporary residence. On the morrow he made a sort of public triumphal pro- menade through the streets and parks of the West End. The King, the Princes of Conde, the Dukes of Havre, Duras, Gram- mont, and Lorges ; the King's two favourites, the Comte de Blacas-d'Aulps and le Pere Elisee, with other members of his household, occupied seven of the Prince Regent's state carriages, each drawn by six horses. The servants wore their state liveries ; several F 2 68 THE FIRST GENTLEMAN IN EUROPE. hundred gentlemen on horseback preceded the King's carriage ; and a detachment of cavalry- escorted the whole, making up a very pretty show. Of course there was no lack of spectators — rails, walls, window^s, and pavement, having each its full complement. Some French writers say that the people took the horses from the King's carriage and, with vociferous hurrahs, drew him in triumph to his hotel. But — on the authority of an eye-witness — the people only took off their hats as the proces- sion passed, and displayed no enthusiasm whatever for the ' right divine ' in the person of Louis XVIII. Why indeed should they? His appearance was not likely to inspire any, and they knew naught of the intrigues of the Regent and the Government in his favour. On the 22nd 'the first gentleman in Europe ' — then growing bulky and gouty like his brother of France — visited the reinstated monarch at his hotel. Many of the nobility also paid their respects to him. A few hours later the royal visit was returned. Louis then bade a final adieu to the Prince Re^ient. He was effusive in his thanks for the great service he had done him in urging on Lord Castle- THE CHATEAU DE COMPlkCNE. 69 reagh, so early as the beginning of the campaign — ' No compromise, no treaty with Bonaparte. Support the recall of the Bourbons,' He believed that for his return to France he was chiefly indebted to the good offices of the English Prince. At nine the followingr mornincr, with the Duchesse d'Angouleme and his suite, he left London, accompanied also by a numerous party of emigrants. British men-of-war con- veyed them to Calais, where, on the 24th, the King and the duchess landed, amidst the enthusiasm (as a French writer says) of the emigrants they had brought back with them. Louis and his retinue travelled by very easy stages, though the roads, unlike those he had known under the old i^dgime, were good, and ample means were at his command for getting on quickly. On the 28th he arrived at the Chateau de Compiegne. Its imperial splendour and the extensive alterations must have been a great surprise to him — though, as the work of ' the usurper,' these renovations are said to have caused both him and the duchess no slight indignation. The latter, on taking possession of the boudoir — draped with the finest cashmere shawls, the furniture being 70 THE PEACE OF PARIS. similarly covered — crossed herself devoutly when her eye fell on the imperial cipher and crown. At Compiegne, however, the King would have halted for a while. He found the new arrangements very comfortable, and he wished to ascertain, before advancing further, whether the political soil of France was yet sufficiently firm to bear him. For the Liberal party loudly denounced the Peace of Paris, by which the lieutenant- general had signed away on the 23rd all the conquests of the Republic (Savoy excepted), and those of the Empire, and had also given up to the allies the vast stores and material of war (valued at many millions) collected by Napoleon, and contained in the numerous for- tresses and arsenals lost to France by the treaty. The odium of this wholesale signing away of all the territory conquered by the French arms during the previous twenty-five years was to be borne by the lieutenant- general, he being then so popular. The salons of old ladies of die Faubourg- Saint-Germain resounded with his praises. In no other country, probably under any circum- stances, much less under the serious political aspect of things then prevailing in France, A POWER IN THE STATE. 71 would the admiration of a set of old women for the gay libertine of their youthful days — whose conquests, however, were more numer- ous in the coulisses of the theatres and at opera balls than in the salons, which he frequented but rarely — have availed him anything in smoothing away aught of the difficulties of his position. But the Comte d'Artois knew that these elderly dowagers were a power in the State ; and to secure the popularity then needed he had even condescended to whisper pretty flattering speeches to faded belles of the vilaine noblesse. In France there were, and doubtless still are, as many political intriguers of the ' gentler sex' as of the sterner one. The former are often more subtle as well as more insinuating than the latter, and it is the elder women who, in this respect, generally possess the most real influence. Napoleon often made use of wily woman's wit to carry out his projects. And how much less of evil or good (whichever it may be considered) would Prince Talleyrand have effected deprived of his devoted band of belles amies J Even the betises of Madame la Prin- cesse de Benevento — not so bcle perhaps as some people thought her — he at times was known to 72 STEALING A MARCH ON THE MARSHALS. have turned to very good account. ' But for the women,' Louis XVIII. is reported to have said, ' the Restoration would have been a bond of peace and universal concord.' Certainly none strove more to make it otherwise than the morosely pious Duchesse d'Angouleme. But to return to Compiegne. Thither the great military grandees, the grand-marshals and generals of the Empire, hastened to do homaee to their new sovereis'n. It was not their fault if they were not the first of his faith- ful subjects to welcome him to his kingdom. But the legislative body had been on the alert for the earliest news of his Majesty's landing, and had immediately despatched a deputation to greet him — thus stealing a march on the marshals, who reached the chateau some three or four hours later. They, however, were not the last to appear, and certainly not the least enthusiastic in their welcome. A flattering fulsome harangue was spoken by Marshal Berthier, Prince of Neufchatel, in the name of the marshals and officers gene- rally. This was indeed a deplorable spectacle. All sense of honour, all self-respect, had appa- rently become extinct in the breasts of these men. Their royalism of a few days' date was '/ PROMISE TO MARCH WITH YOU !' yz vociferously expressed — the impetuous Marshal Ney of all others, ' the bravest of the brave,' beingr the most eao^er in orivlno^ the sio^nal for the frequent cry of ' Vive le roi ! ' when the King replied to their address. And a very ludicrous reply it was. Affect- ing to be inspired by the enthusiasm of these renegade marshals, so far as to ignore the patent fact that his enormous obesity, his ever- lasting gout, and a complication of other mala- dies, disqualified him from walking without assistance even so much as a dozen paces, he exclaimed — half rising from his seat by his attendants' aid, and as though his soul were all aflame with military ardour — * Gentlemen, I trust that France will have no further need of your swords ; but should we be forced again to unsheath them, I, all gouty as I am, promise to march with you ! ' This noble speech, which might well have provoked a peal of derisive laughter, elicited warm and prolonged applause. The marshals and generals in their brilliant imperial uniforms, and decked out with their crosses and erand cordons of the Leo^ion of Honour, glittering with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, then withdrew from the presence of the royal warrior chief, who in case of need 74 BUT A PUFF OF SMOKE. was to succeed the great captain td whom they owed the decorations of which they were un- worthy, and even their martial glory. ' I was rather afraid of those marshals,' said the King to M. Blacas, when the military depu- tation withdrew ; ' for I thought to find them ferocious. But they are perfectly tame, and have neither nails nor teeth. With Bona- parte they were no doubt to be feared ; without him they are but a puff of smoke — mere play- things in fact.' The provisional government having elabo- rated its new constitution, presented it on the 8th of April to the Comte d'Artois. He had signed the Treaty of Paris, apparently — and only apparently — without the sanction of the King ; for the terms of this treaty were the sole conditions on which he and his family were permitted by the allies to return to France. He, however, refused to commit his brother to the acceptance of a constitution based on principles of liberalisai so repugnant to both. When it was laid before Louis XVni., he very cavalierly rejected it alto- gether. He would have no constitution thrust upon him by his subjects, but he would gra- ciously condescend to grant them one. This M. BLACAS' FIRM CONVICTION. 75 rebuff cooled the royalistic ardour of the Senate, who refrained from sending a deputa- tion to lay its members collectively at the feet of the sovereign. But, if not represented as a body, many of its number separately made the journey to congratulate the King on his arrival, as did also a considerable number of the royalist gentry. M. Blacas, the King's intimate friend, coun- sellor, and favourite, had given close attention to the fulsome harangues and humble attitude assumed by the new converts to royalism. The eagerness with which they thronged to Compiegne to do homage and to swear allegi- ance to the restored dynasty, led him, perhaps rather hastily, to a firm conviction that the re-establishment of the absolute monarchy of former days was an affair of no difficulty whatever. ' His Majesty need not trouble himself about reforms and concessions. But, above all, let him not be hampered, on taking up the reins of power, by any conditions.' Louis, though less confident than his coun- sellor, yet was in no hurry to inform his zealous but anxiously expectant lieges in what manner he proposed to govern them. It was in his nature to temporize, to manoeuvre. Yet he 76 A MERE PARVENU/ was so ill-advised — considering himself of more ancient and lofty lineage than any other Euro- pean sovereign — to receive the Emperor Alex- ander at Compiegne with a sort of haughty condescension, very wounding to the suscepti- bilities of the all-powerful and popular Czar. Perhaps this was the more noticeable as Louis XVIII. piqued himself on the punctilious observance of the forms of politeness. He, however, regarded the descendant of the Romanoffs as a mere parvenu compared with the descendant of Saint Louis. And this par- venu came to dictate to him ! Singular mission for the despotic ruler of a nation of serfs — Alexander had resolved on seeing the political liberties of the people, who had so warmly received him, consecrated under his auspices. It was his strong sympathy for everything French that had sustained the enthusiasm with which, on his entry, he was greeted, and had given him so much genuine popularity. It was he, not Louis XVIII., who was king — of all Paris, at least. And ' all Paris ' still, to a great extent, was accepted as of old in the sense of 'all France.' When, therefore, he perceived the supercilious indifference of Louis when pressed on the THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER. THE BOURBON KING'S MOTTO. 77 question of promptly issuing a liberal pro- gramme of government to meet the anxious wishes of his people, he made him clearly understand that the gates of the capital would be closed against him if he refused to satisfy the expectations of the constitutional party. The Russian Emperor returned to Paris, The Kine of France moved on to Saint- Ouen. There for two days the unyielding M. Blacas strove to fortify the King in a determina- tion to govern according to his own good pleasure ; to submit to no dictation ; and, in a word, to convince refractory France that the Restoration must be accepted in all things, in its true sense, and as an accomplished fact, including the Bourbon king's motto — ' L'Etat, c'est moi.' He fancied, as other returned emi- grants did, that France was so delighted to have them all back again that the people would be only too happy unconditionally to surrender everything to them. The realization of his favourite's arbitrary views would doubtless have been very agree- able to Louis XVIII. But he was too shrewd and clear-sighted to entertain a hope that a consummation so devoutly to be wished was 78 FORCING THE KING'S HAND. possible then, whatever the womb of time might eventually bring forth. Yet he still held out, being secretly encou- raged by M. de Talleyrand, who, however, feigned opposition to his views and agreement with Alexander's. Two days had elapsed, and no proclamation was forthcoming — the various factions into which society and the political world were divided, interpreting this silence according to their several hopes and fears. The most powerful of the allies again inter- posed. He declared that the concessions de- manded beino^ withheld, the allied armies could not evacuate France. From thirty thousand to forty thousand troops must remain there — so great was the agitation that prevailed through- out the country. The King's hand thus forced, the draft of a manifesto, promising even more liberal and extensive reforms than those of the constitu- tion he had rejected, was sent to Alexander. Communicated to the Senate, it made a favour- able impression. This manifesto, known as the ' Declaration de Saint-Ouen,' was signed ' Louis Stanislas Xavier, roi de France et de Navarre.' Meet- ing with the approval of the Russian Emperor HIGH TIME TO SHOW OURSELVES. 79 as well as of the Senate, it was intimated to Louis XVIII. that he might now enter Paris. No time was lost in availinor himself of this permission. He was annoyed, indeed, that any conditions had been attached to his entry, as well as at the little anxiety the people had evinced for his presence among them.. A spark of jealousy also fired his ample breast when the conviction was forced on him that his despotic ally had more real power in France than he. * It is high time,' he said, ' that we should show ourselves.' The scale must be turned. For, oh ! — crowning vexation — the pious lieutenant-general, the hope of the ultramontanes and ultra-royalists, was courting and obtaining popularity. Slight, active, and still upright in figure — such a con- trast to the elephantine proportions of the august Louis — daily he might be seen cara- coling and displaying his horsemanship before the admiring eyes of the ladies, with all the airs and CTaces of the Comte d'Artois erown young again. The duchess, too, was much alarmed at this. But, worse still perhaps, he was scattering with a too lavish hand Napoleon's sixty mil- lions, with which the allies had endowed the 8o ELBA AND PARIS. King, who never before had had so much cash in reserve. He had proposed to dole it out in part to the most needy or importunate of his partizans, reserving, of course, the Hon's share for himseh'". Takinof all these untoward circumstances together, it was time, ' high time,' as M. Blacas said, echoing his sove- reign's words, ' that they should show them- selves.' On the morrow, then, the 2nd of May — the day on which Napoleon arrived at Elba — Louis XVIII. entered Paris. A DISAPPOINTMENT. 8i CHAPTER VII. A Disappointment— Soldiers of the Restoration— Louis XVI 1 1. 's Entry into Paris — The Duchesse d'Angouleme — An Avenging Angel— The Toilette of the Old Regime— A.n Expressive Gesture— 'Au revoir k Paris'— Smoothing the Way for the King— An idealized Portrait— The Old Guard and the New King—' Memoires d'outre-tombe ' — Justly Expelled. ITHER the people had grown weary of welcoming the Bourbons, as severally they made their appear- ance in France, or they were disappointed to find that the divinity supposed to hedge a king, which they had been led to believe was conspicuously present in the person of Louis XVIII., to their eyes was only con- spicuously absent. For it is certain that the appearance and manners of this 'son of Saint Louis ' impressed all who first saw him on the occasion of his entry far differently from what was expected by himself and generally hoped for by his partizans. All was done tliat the difficult position of affairs permitted to invest VOL. L G 82 SOLDIERS OF THE RESTORATION. the proceedings of the day with imposing so- lemnity. It was anticipated that this, more readily than festive arrangements, would find its way to the hearts of the people ; would repress any show of ill-feeling ; would awaken respect, and elicit an enthusiastic reception for the aged prince restored to the throne of his ancestors after long years of exile. The city was full of foreign troops. At- tended by them, a grand military cortege might have been effectively arranged. But it was imperative, on such an occasion, that these alien forces should be wholly kept out of sight. That the susceptibilities of the monarch and his people might not be too deepl}' wounded, French soldiers must escort him to his capital. But Baron Maubreuil's recruits — ' the soldiers of the Restoration,' a set of ruffians and raga- muffins — had already disbanded themselves, no attempt having been made to restrain them. The temper of the French army — still calling itself imperial — made insubordination, and opposition to the restored d)'nasty, the rule in the ranks. This ill-feeling was further embittered by the sight of the white flag au- daciously flaunting over the Vendome column, where so lately had stood the statue of their LOUIS XVIII: S ENTRY INTO PARIS. 83 Emperor. Yet, in spite of the distrust they inspired, it was necessary that a sufficiently numerous escort should be formed of these troops. Some of the more popular of their officers were therefore induced, though but little disposed for the service assigned them, to reason with their men, and thus lead them to yield, if not with ready obedience, at least with less marked unwillingness, to the order to attend the King on his entry, and otherwise do duty in the ceremony of the day. Louis XVIII. entered Paris on a bright sunny May morning, in an open carriage drawn by six horses. He wore a light blue coat with epaulettes and gilt buttons, red velvet gaiters, velvet boots, and a round hat. His hair, or wig, was powdered. The Grand Cross of the Order of Saint Louis was suspended over his white waistcoat, and a large white cockade decorated the left side of his coat : it had been pinned there by the august fat hands of the Prince Regent — a parting token of his friendship on biddino- a final adieu to the French Kinof. As he had been placed in his carriage on quitting Saint-Ouen, his excessive corpulence and chronic gout obliged him immovably to remain. His countenance wore a frigid, defiant 84 THE DUCHESSE UANGOUL&ME. expression, that seemed to contradict De Berry's emotional utterance, ' Frenchmen, we return to you, forgetting the wrongs of the past ' — unless, indeed, the wrongs of the past signified those that the nation had suffered at the hands of the Bourbons. Those they did forget, but on their return were fully purposed to inflict them anew. On the King's left hand sat the Duchesse d'Angouleme, the daughter of that unfortunate pair whose weakness and incapacity on the one hand, folly and extreme levity on the other, broupfht so much evil on France and so sad a fate on themselves. It was natural, however, that their errors should now be forgotten, and bitter recollections give place to sympathy, when the sons and daughters and aged widows of the victims of the red-handed chief Qi the Reien of Terror beheld the daughter of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette returning amongst them. But more closely were they in heart attracted towards her when those standing nearest her carriage told to the crowd around them, in subdued and respectful tones, ' She weeps.' And many wept with her. Tears effaced the derisive laugh that had but just before played on their features when, in reply to the anxious questioning of the spectators as to which was \ AN AVENGING ANGEL. the ' new king ' — for the old Princes de Conde, father and son, both solemn and severe, were also in the royal carriage — a voice in the crowd loudly blurted out, ' Ocst ce gros goiUteux ! ' (It is that big gouty fellow !) As if in contempt for this unkingly-looking king, a startling shout of 'Vive la garde im- periale ! ' burst forth in response, and was again and again repeated ; but none cried ' Long live the King ! ' The duchess put down the parasol with which she had partly concealed her emotion, and cast a penetrating glance on the people. It was a glance of intensest hate ! Had its power been equal to her will, it would have scattered those presumptuous rebels with the full force of a shower of mitraille. Louis, for his own advantage, would have had the duchess smile on the crowd, and bow unceasingly — representing an angel of pardon and peace, a mediatress, if need were, between them and the awe-inspiring right divine, of which he was the awfully majestic impersonation. But if the Duchesse d'Angouleme was to play the angel con amore, it must be in the spirit of an avenging one. As such she returned to France. She desired to enter Paris attired in deepest 86 THE TOILETTE OF THE OLD REGIME. mourning. The King strenuously opposed it. It contrasted too strongly with his own gala costume of red, blue, and white, and glittering cross of Saint Louis. But, more important still, it was perilously impolitic. Yet in spite of these objections — for she had all the wilfulness of Marie Antoinette — the duchess appeared in a dress which, if not actually mourning, was of such sombre hue and exaggerated plainness that the aristocratic dames of the royalist Fau- bourg — dressed with much elegance for this occasion — gazed on their princess with dismay. If — and they were elate with the expectation — the old 7^(igwie was to be fully revived in its ancient splendour, surely it was not to be minus the laces and ribands, pearl powder and rouge, silks and jewels, and the thousand and one etceteras that made up the graceful feminine toilette of that period. The vilaifie noblesse, as the baronesses and duchesses of the Empire were termed, also looked on the royal lady's costume with much wonder ; but with them wonder was mingled with compassion. She had resided, they said, so long in Germany and England that it was not surprising she should so entirely have lost a Frenchwoman's natural good taste in dress. AN EXPRESSIVE GESTURE. 87 But althouofh the Duchesse d'Anfrouleme made no converts to her dreary style of dressing, she might, with more geniahty of temper and more enhghtened views of reHgion, have exerted a very benign influence on the Court and society of that day, which would probably have gone far to avert the final downfall of the elder branch of the Bourbons. This reception, then, of the Most Christian King by his faithful lieges, ' in whose love he had found,' as he proclaimed, ' the restitution of his rights,' could not be considered very enthu- siastic. Yet royalist writers have spoken of acclamations that rent the air. And they may have done so ; but the air was not torn and tattered for the King. They tell, too, of the monarch having graciously, if not gracefully, placed his hand on his heart in acknowledgment of this deafening greeting ; so deafening that ' I'empereur,' it seems, was not distinguishable from ' Louis XVIII.' Placing his hand on his heart was confessedly a favourite gesture of his. ' It expressed so much,' he said, 'without the necessity of uttering a word.' But on the occasion in cjuestion it may have been but a sign of recognition addressed to a lady who, charmingly arrayed in white silk, 88 'Al/ RE VOIR A PARIS.' with white bonnet, flowing white plume, and a bunch of lilies reposing on her bosom, was stand- ing in a balcony, and rather demonstratively- waving to and fro either a small white flag or a handkerchief. The old King had seen this lady before and expressed much interest in her. She was in the summer-time of life, not num- bering more than thirty years, and if not exactly a beautiful woman, decidedly an elegant one. She was remarkably spirituelle, and lively in temper, and was, besides, one of the greatest intrigantes in Paris, keeping on the most ex- cellent terms with all parties and factions, and with politicians of every hue, whether of her own or of the lordly sex. On this lady's last visit to Hartwell, Louis, on taking leave of her, had said, ' Au revoir a Paris.' When suddenly, then, so fair a vision again beamed on him, he would not unnaturally — as he still piqued himself on his gallantry — make an effort to find the place where his heart should be and press his gouty hand upon it. It was an appropriate sign that indeed might well mystify the indifferent multitude, but would be fully comprehended by the wily Countess du Cayla, whose influence over the King was to prevail to so great an extent during the next SMOOTHING THE WAY FOR THE KING. 89 ten years in the secret councils of State. The unexpected appearance of his fascinating and talented amie intime may have been to him as the sudden bursting forth of the sun on a misty morn. For neither he nor those who were with him could well fail to perceive the decidedly hostile attitude assumed by the military on that day, or to feel, at the least, much chagrined by it. That, in the main, staunch, if at times slightly wavering, royalist, M. de Chateau- briand, rather naively relates/ that dreading the effect which the personal appearance of Louis XVIII. would have on the Parisians, he undertook to prepare, as it were, the way for his entry. That is, he wrote an account which was published in the ' National,' describing the King's arrival at Compiegne, whither with other royalist gentlemen he went to do homage to his new sovereign. 'Aided by the Muses,' he says, ' I idealized the son of Saint Louis, as it was my aim to make him known to the Parisians.' As the King approached, he tells them, a confused clamour of ' Vive le roi ! ' arose in the air, with subdued expressions of joy and tender- ' Mdmoires cVotdre-tombe. 90 AN IDEALIZED PORTRAIT. ness. The blue coat and ' simple decorations ' are then described, with the ' ample red velvet gaiters bordered with a small gold cord.' ' Seated in his arm-chair,' continues the Che- valier, * wearing his old-fashioned gaiters, and holding his cane between his knees, one might have fancied that he beheld Louis XIV, at the age of fifty.' This was an idealized portrait indeed, and one that did much injustice to the magnificent grand monarque. He at the age of fifty was still a man of noble presence, tall, erect, and robust. He would have disdained velvet gaiters and velvet boots ; for he was a great walker too, then and for many years after. Louis XVHI., on the contrary, could not walk two yards with- out assistance. He was also within a few months of his sixtieth year, and in constitution old before his time — the victim of gluttony, disp-ustinor to behold. This interesting object, according to Cha- teaubriand's account, ' returning from exile, de- stitute of everything — without a suite, without guards, without wealth, has nothing to give, almost nothing to promise. He alights from his carriage ; he leans on the arm of a young woman ; he shows himself to the captains, who THE OLD GUARD AND THE NEW KING. 91 have not yet seen him ; to the grenadiers, who scarcely knew his name. " Who is this man ? " they ask. "It is the King," is the reply ; and all present fall at his feet.' Commenting on his own statement, the Chevalier continues : ' What I said of these warriors, in order to attain the object I had in view, was true as regarded the principal officers. But I lied [je vientais) as far as the men were concerned.' That he lied to no purpose is seen by what follows. ' There rises up vividly before me,' he says, ' the spectacle of which I was an eye-witness when Louis XVIII. entered Paris on his way to Notre-Dame. He was spared the humiliat- ing sight of the foreign troops — some regi- ments of the old guard lining the road from the Pont Neuf to Notre-Dame. But I do not think that human countenances ever before expressed anything so terrible, so menacing. These bronzed and scarred soldiers, the con- querors of Europe, deprived of their leader, were compelled to salute in the invaded capital of Napoleon, and under the surveillance of the hidden army of Russians, Prussians, &c., an old king — an invalid, not of the battle-field, but of age and infirmity. 92 ' MEM 01 RES U OUTRE-TOM BE.' ' Some of them, by a movement of the head, lowered the fronts of their tall hair caps over their eyes, as if to ' hide from their view what was passing before them. Rage or contempt was strongly expressed on the contracted features of others, while their closely set teeth, eleamino^ throuo^h their moustaches, crave them the expression of tigers ready to spring on their prey. It must, however, be conceded that it was trying these men greatly to select them for such a service. No doubt it was to many of them as the suffering of martyrdom, and it was well they were not then called on to exact vengeance. ' At the end of the line of troops a young officer of hussars sat' on his horse with his sword drawn. Rage was in his face, and he was pale as death. As he glared on the scene with the suppressed fury of a savage, his horse, yielding to the pressure of the rider's spur, slightly advanced. The King was then pass- ing, and the temptation to seize that moment to rush upon and attack him was, apparently, with difficulty resisted.' It is evident from the above that the entry of Louis XVIII. into Paris was no triumphal one. The reception he met with, from all but JUSTLY EXPELLED. 93 the emigrant party he brought back with him, was rather a protest against the conduct of the alHes in thrusting on the nation a ruler abhor- rent to it ; a man in whom no interest was felt, and who had not the qualities to inspire any ; a member of a hated dynasty already expelled, and justly too, for its oppressive and despotic rule. 94 THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY. CHAPTER VIII. The Merry Month of May — A New Sensation — In Port at last — A Search for an Old Spinette — The Great Ones of the Earth — King Solomon in Paris — Making hay while the sun shone — ' Les Anglais pour rire ' — Milors and Miladis — The King at the Grand Opera — Gazing on Royalty — Smiles for the new Nobility — Pearls and Nodding Plumes — The King and his Allies at the Opera — Putting on the Curb — Excuses for the Duchesse— Marrying Madame Royale — An Inattentive Audience — Life at La Bagatelle. ,HE month of May, 1814, was a very gay month in the capital of France ; j ^ <( Lo^ in spite, too, of the special griev- ances of the Bonapartists, constitutionaHsts, repubhcans, and revohitionists — all more or less indisposed towards the royalist restoration. Yet all seemed willing to enjoy the brief honeymoon of festivity and pleasure, though it boded neither concord nor happiness in the future ; for the governed and governing parties, distrusting each other, were secretly marshal- ling their forces — notwithstanding the promised charter — on the one hand to oppose and resist, on the other to crush and subdue. A NEW SENSATION. 95 As soon as Louis XVIII. and his family were installed in the luxuriously furnished Palace of the Tuileries, a fresh foreign inva- sion of Paris took place. Visitors flocked in in overwhelming numbers. The English, most numerous of all, were among the first to make their appearance. To the greater part a visit to Paris was a new sensation ; while the few who had spent a short time there during the peace of 1802 were amazed at the change which the imperial capital had since undergone. The improvements — which an almost continual state of preparation for war would seem to have left no time for — were not only numerous, but good, and the embellishments in excellent taste, transforming Paris into a magnificent city com- pared with what it was when it came into Napoleon's hands. The Bourbons and emigrants of '89 and '90 confessed that they scarcely recognized it. But this confession was professedly made in sorrow, as a lament for the squalor that had disap- peared. Extreme royalists were known to have fervently expressed their gratitude to heaven for staying the hand of the ' Corsican usurper,' ere he had realized his sweeping and impious project of erecting a new city on the site ol the 96 IN PORT AT LAST. fever-harbouring capital of the descendants of Saint Louis. But the King, it appears, was perfectly con- tent both with the comfort and splendour of the quarters which his Corsican predecessor had vacated for him. His thorough apprecia- tion of the luxurious ease they afforded him added considerably to his enjoyment of finding himself, after so many ups and downs, so many alternations of hope and fear, firmly seated on the throne of France. With extraordinary tenacity he clung to that throne and to the possession of the long-coveted privileges of royalty. So much so that, although but a mass of disease and infirmities, with one foot well in the grave and the other ready to follow, he for ten years lived on, sustained during the last five, almost by the force of his will alone, in a state of physical decay that almost precluded the hope of a life of as many months' duration. The Comte d'Artois and the Due and Duchesse d'Angouleme were also sumptuously lodged at the Tuileries, in the Pavilion Mar- san. But the unamiable duchess, as if to mark her supreme contempt for the splendour sur- rounding her, had the folly to order the at- tendants to search the apartments for an old A SEARCH FOR AN OLD SPINETTE. 97 spinette, left in the palace when the mob in- vaded it in 1792. It was to be brought to her boudoir, and an elegant instrument, formerly- belonging to Josephine, was to give place to it. But, alas! the spinette could not be found. It did not seem to occur to the duchess that the mob who wantonly destroyed so much that was really valuable would not have been likely to spare the spinette if it fell in their way ; and she was no less unmindful of many subsequent scenes of riot and confusion having also taken place at the Tuileries before it was repaired and refurnished for the imperial Court. Evi- dently, she fancied that the sacrilegious hand of the usurper had been laid on the royal spinette. Probably it had served to light the fires of some of the sans-ctilottes, or had helped to heap up a bonfire round which, waving their caps of Liberty, they had danced the Carmagnole. But to return to the foreign visitors, of whom every unwieldy diligence, every swift (swift for those days) vialle-poste, every pon- derous family travelling carriage, brought its contingent. There were, indeed, unusual at- tractions for strangers in Paris at that parti- cular juncture, the chief of them being that the greater part of the royalty of Europe was VOL. I. H 98 THE GREAT ONES OF THE EARTH. assembled within its walls, and to be seen, one may say, at a single glance. There were the four great Christian poten- tates of Russia, Austria, Prussia, and France ; for Louis XVIII. must be accepted as one of them, though many regarded him in the light of a vi\^x& pis-aller, a makeshift, stopping a gap until a more eligfible chief was forthcominof. Then there were the minor kings and sove- reign princes — creations, for the most part, of the magic wand of Napoleon. Also the most distinguished military chiefs — the greatest of all excepted — as well as two of his former aides-de- camp, men of lowly birth, but of high military renown, who had developed into royal person- ages, and were now leagued with the enemies of their great commander. They were the unfor- tunate Joachim Murat, King of Naples, and the very fortunate Charles Jean Bernadotte, then Crown Prince, and afterwards King, of Sweden. Besides these, there were those important personages the ambassadors of all nations, whose duty it was to g\v& fetes to the monarchs, the princes, and distinguished visitors. Gene- rally, too, there was an ambassadress to do the honours of the salon. Otherwise it would have fallen almost wholly on those wealthy KING SOLOMON IN PARIS. 99 turncoats, the great dignitaries and military grandees of the empire, to entertain monarch- ical Paris. The old nobility of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, whether then resident in, or only returning to, France, declared themselves too poor to receive. They had also the valid excuse of having to afford a home and sub- stantially provide table to several uninvited guests of the allied army. The necessity of giving up their best rooms as quarters to foreign officers was a great grievance to many of the old French families. Yet the return of a Bourbon king, and the proposed revival of the good old times, should have amply compensated them for this temporary inconvenience. Louis had condescended to announce that early in June, probably, it would be his boii plasir to confer on his faithful lieges the pro- mised new constitution. En attendant, Kincr Solomon still reigned, and all the municipal authorities were Russian or German. In one or other of those languages proclamations for the edification of the Parisians constantly deco- rated the walls of Paris. And very diligently, if ineffectually, did the people puzzle their brains to make out what such outlandish gib- berish could mean. H 2 loo MAKING HAY WHILE THE SUN SHONE. Ludicrous scenes often occurred at the pass- port office between the foreign officials and travellers arriving" or departing. The former gentlemen — or, if you please, jacks in office — when French or English was spoken, would shake their heads most deprecatingly. When by rare chance a traveller appeared who was able to speak a few words of either of the tongues then in vogue in Paris, it was pathetic to behold how imploringly his aid was sought by his distracted and less accomplished coun- trymen. In short, where, as in the case of passports, it was necessary at that time to be especially clear and explicit, confusion worse confounded reigned. The English were generally reproached with making everything dear, when they might with more reason have complained that every- thinor was made dear for them. The charges at hotels and for private apartments were raised at least cent, per cent. The restaurateur's jDrices rapidly rose in the same ratio, and every other tradesman, whether he supplied neces- saries or luxuries, adopted a similar tariffi Naturally all were bent on making hay while the sun shone. There was also a real and increasing difficulty in fully supplying the wants 'LES ANGLAIS POUR RIRE: ioi of this influx of foreign guests. Daily they continued to stream in, and new hotels and boarding houses were needed for their accom- modation. Speedily, too, they were estab- lished, in more or less expensive style, to suit all tast-es and purses — from the wealthy and extravagant to the less amply provided and frugal. It was then that ' Galignani's Mes- senger ' was first 'issued for the especial benefit of English visitors. Not many persons at that time possessed any competent knowledge of the French lan- guage. But as the English were great fre- quenters of the theatres — content, apparently, to see the acting, while understanding little of what was said — a mirthful piece, ' Les Anglais pour rire,' w^as produced for their enlighten- ment, being a sort of mirror (a slightly distort- ing one, certainly), held up by the French to their English visitors, to enable them to • see how British eccentricities of costume and manners impressed the Parisian mind. English ladies, however, could not be re- proached with unwillingness to adopt French fashions. Their difficulty at this early stage of the transitional period was to know what b rench fashions were, or were likely to be. It I02 MILORS AND MILADIS. was of course assumed that they were to obli- terate those of the Empire. There were whis- perino-s in the air that, so far as the Court of the Tuileries was concerned, fashion, Hke everything else, was to take a backward leap of a quarter of a century, and all be restored as existing in the early months of '89. This seemed to predicate a revival of paniers and plumes, powder, patches, and paint. Should it really prove so, a hope was expressed that it would be minus the fashionable vices that pre- vailed in the dissolute Court of Versailles at the period when those accessories of the toi- lette, and even the vices, were de rigiteiir. While awaiting the fiat of the duchess in this important matter, many English miladis as well as inilors (for on all who had cash in abundance and liberally disbursed it that Anglo-French title was conferred) were roaming about Paris, and especially exploring its most obscure nooks and corners, in search of rare specimens of old cabinet work, escritoires, gueridons, &c. Old lace, ivories, and china, pictures, and rare or choicely bound books, were often picked up for small sums, and were as eagerly purchased for large ones. Anything, in fact, of an artistic character found a ready sale on the assurance THE KING AT THE GRAND OP^RA. 103 that it had been obtained — Heaven only knew how, for these enthusiasts, of course, asked few questions — from one of the ransacked palaces or hotels of the old nobility. Some amateurs of bric-a-brac were very successful in their quest. Others, having merely the love of collecting, without any special knowledge to guide them as to the real value of their purchases, made very bad bar- gains. Dealers in those things were quick to discern on whom they could or could not palm off inferior or sham objcts d'art as specimens of the tasteful style and patient workmanship of the olden time. But if hunting up old curiosity shops was the occupation of the few, pleasure was the business of the many. The King's announced intention of being present at the Grand Opera to hear Sacchini's ' Gidipe a Colone,' and that the duchess and other members of his family would accompany him, caused an overwhelm- ing demand for places. Not many cared for the opera ; but to secure a few inches of stand- ing room where, without being crushed to death, a glimpse could be obtained of the re stored Bourbon family, large sums were in many instances paid. 104 GAZING ON ROYALTY The crush was the greater because it was known that the opportunities of seeing the King in pubhc would be rare ; while the duchess's disapproval of theatrical entertainments, her aversion to all fetes except those of the Church, all pomp and parade unless in connec- tion with ecclesiastical ceremonies and priestly processions, had already got noised about. As neither all foreign visitors nor all Parisians could be received at Court, they were therefore the more anxious to avail themselves of per- haps the solitary chance now afforded them of gazing on royalty. It was no easy matter for the King's per- sonal attendants to get his Majesty comfortably seated in the royal, so lately imperial, box, even with the aid of the mechanical chair by which he was raised or lowered to get in or out of his carriage. There would scarcely have been more difficulty in placing him in full marching order at the head of an army, had he been called upon to fulfil the promise so valiantly made to the marshals. The duchess at first declined to attend ; she regarded any festive arrangements as sacrilegious while the expia- tory ceremonies in connection with the death of Louis XVI. and his queen were unfulfilled. SMILES FOR THE AEIV NOBILITY. 105 But the King decreed otherwise, and the duchess, with very ill grace, yielded to his will. By her order no diamonds were to be worn ; to spare, it was said, the returned emigrant ladies of the old nobility, who had few probably, and in some instances none, of those dazzling gems, the mortification of being outshone by the ostentatious display she imagined the vilaine noblesse would make, unless thus restrained. Her own dress was of rigid simplicity. But even she could perceive that both good taste and elegance were conspicuous in the toilettes of the ladies she affected to disdain, and would have banished from her Court, had not Louis XVIII. been far too astute to permit it. He even proposed, in a modified sense, to continue Napoleon's system of fusion. The King's mind wa'S therefore made up to be condescendingly gracious to the new nobility, and to bestow his inane, insincere smiles on the generals' wives, also on those of the officers of the imperial household whose husbands had been most obsequious, and most prompt in giving in their adhesion to the monarchy. The Bourbons were said to have owed their restora- tion much more to the women of the Empire io6 PEARLS AND NODDING PLUMES. than to the men. But when the feminine part of the old and new order of thino^s were brouQ-ht into contact — their position at Court being reversed — the grandes dames of the Empire decHned to take the second place, while the ladies of the old regime as resolutely refused to cede the pas to those new-fangled duchesses and princesses. Eventually the clash of wounded female pride and undue lofty pretensions proved almost as fatal as the clash of arms to Louis' cosy enjoyment of the pleasures and privileges of his newly acquired regal honours. But for the present those antagonistic feel- ings lay dormant. Curiosity was the prevailing sentiment in the brilliant audience anxiously awaiting the appearance of the royal party. Ladies were present in far greater number than on the occasion of the Russian Emperor's first visit to the opera. With rare exceptions all were attired in white silk or white muslin. A few white feathers appeared — a timid venture on the part of those who were not )'et aware that, in spite of her austerity, the duchess, who had inherited her mother's fondness for noddino- plumes, sometimes yielded to the weakness of wearing them. Pearls not being forbidden were profusely worn by their fortunate possessors THE KING AND HIS ALLIES AT THE OPERA. 107 — those of the Duchesse d'Abrantes beine re- markable for their size and purity. Of course there was no stint of white HHes. It was early in the season for them in the immediate neigh- bourhood of Paris ; but they were procured from the south, regardless of cost or trouble. Mixed with white lilac they formed a charming and odorous bouquet, and, as almost every lady carried one, the result of the white dresses and natural white flowers was a general diffusion of sweetness and light. But if diamonds and glittering jewels were denied to the ladies, they sparkled and shone in lustrous profusion in stars, crosses and grand crosses on diplomatic uniforms, and the various military ones of foreign officers who, in rather large number, represented the allied armies. Some English visitors' eyes happened to fall on the new duke (Lord Wellington was first greeted in Paris by this new distinction). He seemed desirous of avoiding recognition, but, his presence being detected, some applause followed. It was mingled however with hisses, therefore speedily suppressed. The Parisians, in the mood they were then in, would doubt- less have gladly accepted Alexander as their king, had it pleased him to displace the son io8 PUTTING ON THE CURB. of Saint Louis ; but Wellington and English officers generally were far from being in favour with the people, however well they were re- ceived in the salons. But, attention ! The royal party enters. The whole house rises. The King seated in his chair is wheeled in. Only his head and ample bust are visible to the audience. But his face is so florid, and he smiles so benignantly ricrht and left — as it were the sun shininfj on the just and the unjust — that some of his good people of Paris are quite taken with him, and the ladles especially admire ' sa belle vieillesse,' as they term his seeming green old age. During the first months of his reign, when he dreamed of being able to do as it pleased him with his own — that is, to put on the strong curb he had in store to restrain any further disposition to restiveness on the part of his supposed re- pentant subjects — Louis was literally, as the old adage says, as happy as a king, and, until a change came o'er the spirit of his dream, when he found that he was curbed himself by his own hated Charter, really seemed destined late in the autumn of life, and in defiance of gout, to enjoy a St. Martin's summer. The morose, resentful duchess, however. EXCUSES FOR THE DUCHESS. 109 has smiles for none. A slight and haughty bend of the head is the only notice she deio-ns to take of the very friendly greeting of the audience. The Comte d'Artois and his sons are less ungracious ; the gloomy face of the duchess being therefore more generally re- marked. It is evident to all that she will bring the Bourbons no increase of popularity. The sad events of her early years had naturally, as those most friendly towards her suggest, had their influence on her character, and to the seclusion in which she since had lived mieht be attributed in some measure the great stiffness and frigidity of her manners. Personally the Duchesse d'Angouleme was not unpleasing, but her nature was so utterly unsympathetic that she repelled rather than attracted. Few, very few, probably, who were present at the opera that evening, besides the King and his family, had ever seen Marie Antoinette, but her portraits were familiar to most persons. Though always greatly flattered, the daughter's likeness to them, if not striking, was at least perceptible. The grace, which was really the chief charm of the heedless, un- fortunate queen, was however wanting in her daughter, while the haughty air and vindictive no MARRYING MADAME ROY ALE. temper which characterized Marie Antoinette were inherited to the full. The duchess could not be reproached with the same lamentable levity of conduct that brought on the queen and others such heavy misfortune ; she erred in the opposite extreme, and should have wholly adopted the religious life, or, on returning to France, have abstained from interferino- in affairs of State. She had ereat influence over the weak mind of the reformed roti^, her father-in-law. But her influence was most baneful ; for she had neither judgment nor toleration. Adversity had taught her nothing, and she was guided only by a spirit of vengeance. Like her mother, she was unfortunate in her husband. It was proposed to marry her to the Archduke Charles, after her liberation from the Temple in exchange for French prisoners in Austria. Her own inclination, it appears, favoured this proposal ; but Louis XVI I L, then Comte de Provence (who at her baptism had endeavoured to fix on her the stigma of illefriti- macy), stepped in and opposed it, and insisted on her marrying the Due d'Angouleme. Having no heirs himself he was so generous as to desire that the crown of France should not escape her AN INA TTENTIVE A UDIENCE. 1 1 1 in the event of his restoration. But, unhappily, both crown and happiness escaped her by her marriag-e with Angouleme. There was much to excite sympathy in the history of the daughter of Louis XVI. But she rejected it, and persistently repulsed all who were kindly disposed towards her. It is not then to be wondered at that she gazed with stoical indifference on the gay scenes at the opera-house. Indeed it may be asserted, not only of her, but generally, as regarded the music, that a more inattentive audience perhaps never before assembled within its walls. To most persons the centre of attraction was not the stage, but the party occupying the royal boxes ; royalty in its turn (save and except the duchess, who sat silent, gloomy, and distraite) being chiefly intent on keenly, if furtively, scru- tinizing the audience. The orchestra exerted itself with little success to attract unlistening ears, and the best efforts of the singers to awaken attention were as scantily rewarded. But at last the opera came to an end, and the King, who it was suspected was dozing, was being wheeled off, as the house rose, and a few shouts of ' Vive le roi ! ' were heard. This roused him, and a movement of 112 LIFE AT LA BAGATELLE. his chair brino-ino- him face to face with the audience, he graciously bent his head and smiled his approbation. His party followed him, and many of the audience also beat a hasty retreat. But there was a ballet to follow, and it seemed likely to receive more attention than the opera, the great attraction of the evening being with- drawn. It was noticed that the Due de Berry had returned, but that he kept well back in his box. It was whispered about, too, that he waited the end of the ballet to escort two or three belles dansetises to La Bagatelle, where he supped with his friends after the theatre or opera. La Bagatelle was the celebrated petite inaison belonging to the Comte d'Artois, who spent on its decoration two millions which his brother Louis XVI. gave him out of the impoverished treasury for the purpose of paying his debts. Already it was partly restored, not only in its former splendour, but to its former uses, The pious count had presented it to the Due de Berry at the latter's request, and the orgies for which it was notorious in his father's gay youth were being resumed in all their former shame- Icssness. GRAND MARSHALS OF THE EMPIRE. 113 CHAPTER IX. Grand Marshals of the Empire — The ' Bravest of the Brave in Tears — Salon of the Duchesse d'Abrantes — The Governor of Paris — An Extravagant Pair — Death of General Junot — Royal Promises — The Right of the Tabouret — \A\\Vi- V>' his rider with so much violence to the irround £3 VOL. I. R 242 NARROW ESCAPE OF BLUCHER. that he was unable to rise. The whole of the French cavalry, in eager pursuit of the Prussians, passed by without recognizing Blucher or even heeding him. His adjutant, who had contrived to remain near at hand, then procured him another horse, which he managed, though much bruised and shaken, to mount and rejoin his troops ^ — thus, probably, despoiling the French of the victory of the i8th. For notwithstanding the secret plot that appears to have been organized to prevent Napoleon's orders from reaching his generals, or to confuse them by contradictory ones, yet for the second time on that fatal day he believed the battle won. At three in the afternoon he despatched a courier to Paris to announce that victory was no longer doubtful. The Emperor in person was on the eve of completing it at the head of the reserve forces when suddenly a brisk fusilade was heard on the side towards Saint-Lambert. ' 'Tis Grouchy,' he exclaimed ; * the victory is ours ! ' A French writer " asserts that Napoleon at that moment began whistling the air, ' A la Monaco, Ton chasse et Ton dechasse,' interrupting it only to repeat, ' C'est Grouchy ! c'est Grouchy ! ' ^ Private letters of 1814 and 18 15. "^ Beaumont- Vassy, Manoires secrets. THE 'SAUVE QUI PEUT P OE WATERLOO. 243 But, alas for him, it was not Grouchy ! and a few hours later, owing to this and other con- tretemps, resulting from indecision or treachery, not only was the battle lost, but two-thirds of his army were killed, wounded, or prisoners. If ever the memoirs of JNI. de Talleyrand reveal the truth, and nothing but the truth, con- cerning his intriguing and eventful career, they may tell who raised the fatal cry of ' Sauve qui pent ! ' at Waterloo, and throw a new light on the battle of the i8th of June, But it is far more probable that they will reveal nothing but a portrait of himself, depicted after the manner in which he would have posterity regard him and his many doubtful acts. As for Fouche, his treason was so evident to all, that his and his accomplices' arraignment was proposed by the Chamber of Deputies. Carnot publicly charged him with sacrificing both France and the Emperor ; Caulaincourt treated him with crushing disdain ; and General Grenier threatened to blow out his brains, but unfortunately did not carry out his threat. Napoleon, the bearer of the news of his own defeat, arrived in Paris on the 21st. A panic seized the inhabitants when they heard of his return and that he had gone to the palace of R 2 244 THE PRISON AT STE. HELENA. the Elysee. Perhaps he preferred to dictate and siorn there the act of abdication. ' I offer myself/ he said, ' in sacrifice to the hatred of the enemies of France. My pohtical hfe is ended, and T proclaim my son by the title of Napoleon II. Emperor of the French.' While dictating this, the people had assembled round the Elysee, and were vociferously crying, ' Vive I'empereur ! ' Fouche therefore wrote to the English commander-in-chief to hasten the occupation of the capital, to prevent the French army, then reassembling in large numbers and perpetu- ally crying ' Vive I'empereur ! ' from taking up arms, as they were ready to do for either Napoleon I. or Napoleon II. All that concerns the Emperor Napoleon from his defeat at Waterloo to his departure for his miserable prison at Ste. Helena- — that rock in a wide waste of waters — is too well-known by all, it may be presumed, to need dwelling on here. The hopeless exile to which he was doomed was indeed a melancholy close to the brilliant career of a man so eminently gifted ; not merely as a military genius, but with qualities especially adapting him to be the ruler of a great nation. A SECOND INVASION. 245 CHAPTER XVI. Second Invasion — In vain ; all in vain ! — The Frenzy of Delight— Who is this Daring Villain ? — An Imprudent Im- perialist — Forming the New Ministry — Still Watching and Waiting — A Reassuring Document — The Triumphant Army — Patriotic Sentiments — The Enemy's Artillery — Resuming the White Cockade — Prussian Reprisals — The Violet and ibo-Jieur de lys — 'Louis I'Inevitable' — The Ladies' Greeting to the King — Terrifying the Guilty. OR the second time Paris is invested by foreign troops. They are swarm- ing on the heights around it, and sharp conflicts are occurring between the in- vaders and the invaded. There is desperate skirmishing at Saint-Germain, and Versailles is taken and retaken again and again. Marshal Bluchers division sustains a partial defeat on the left bank of the Seine. He is attacked there by General Exelmans with a detachment of six regiments of cavalry and one of in- fantry withdrawn from the command of the traitor Davoust. Supported, the French general 246 IN VAIN; ALL IN VAIN! could have annihilated the Prussian marshal's army. But in vain, all in vain, Is this sacrifice of brave men's lives in the desperate attempt to oppose the entry of the foreign hosts. In vain the Chambers assemble, vote that Paris be put into a state of siege, and call on the people and the army to rally round 'the tricoloured banner; consecrated by the glory and the solemn oath of the nation.' In vain they proclaim the rights of Frenchmen, declare their rejection of the Bourbons, their allegiance to Napoleon II., and propose the appointment of a council of regency ; for an army of 1 50,000 men is at their gates. Napoleon II. is in his enemies' safe keeping. Talleyrand and Fouche are plotting, caballing, strivincr — and for once in their lives in concert — to overcome this strenuous resistance of the French people again to succumb to the yoke of the Bourbons, In the wake of the Anglo-German army comes Louis XYIII.— if not actually concealed in Txfoitrgon, yet screened from observation by the baggage waggons that surround his closed carriage and form his novel escort. But besides the necessity for secretly bringing back this son of Saint Louis to a people who declare that they THE FRENZY OF DELIGHT. 247 will not have him reign over them, there exists another reason for sparing him as far as is pos- sible all excitement. He is suffering from bodily pain and mental agitation, resulting from a paroxysm of immoderate joy on learning that the allies were victorious at Waterloo and the battle decisive. A similar fit of frenzied deli'frht had seized him in the preceding year when informed that the throne of France was vacant for him. But the present attack has more lasting results ; and from the period of the second restoration a degree of senility was sometimes painfully apparent in the excessive raofe to which he would on mere fancied provocation give way, and his equally childish joy. A rather amusing anecdote relating to his second return to Paris is told by the Comtesse de Bassanville. The King, in order to obtain some repose, and to prepare for the doubtful re- ception that might await him in Paris, stopped at the Chateau of Ecouen, where, under the Empire, the daughters of officers of the Legion of Honour were educated. During the attack on Paris they were sent to their homes for safety. The principal matron or governess also left, locking up her parrot In a large closet, 248 WHO IS THIS DARING VILLAIN? with an ample supply of food for the short time she expected to be absent. The chief bedchamber seems to have been that of the head matron, and on her couch Louis, tired with his journey, was soon repos- ing ; his attendants temporarily leaving him to prepare the en-cas, or night meal, with which, like Louis XIV., the XVIIIth Louis of that royal line also regaled himself — once, twice, or thrice, as he chanced to awake, in the course of the night. Suddenly, and, as it seemed to him, close to his ear, in coaxingly whispered accents, he hears those hated words, * Vive I'empereur ! ' He is startled, of course ; he listens, and would start upright on his couch, but unhappily he is unable to rise. ' Vive I'empereur ! ' again assails his ears, and this time with a sort of chuckle at the end of it, a repetition of the offensive words, and a hearty peal of laughter. Who is this daring- villain that thus pre- sumes to mock at and insult his sacred Ma- jesty ? 'Vive I'empereur!' is the screaming reply, * ha ! ha ! ha ! ' The culprit seems to grow bolder each time he repeats the offence, and indignation and rage give strength to the King to find a bell-rope at the head of the bed, at which he pulls most lustily. The AN IMPRUDENT IMPERIALIST, 249 affria;hted domestics hasten in. No need to inquire what has happened — Louis points towards the spot whence come those sounds profane, so joyously repeated. They stand aghast : for the laughter is louder, the tones more defiant. The King commands a search for the sacrilegious offender. He is neither under the bed nor behind it. But on drawing- aside the curtains a door is seen ; it is locked, but soon yields to blows, when, swinging in his cage, and excited by the noise, poor 'Vert Vert' is discovered gleefully laughing as he repeats the words which are the full extent of his vocabulary and form the head and front of his offending. The conclusion is not pleasant. The offence of this imprudent imperialist was not condoned. His neck was savagely twisted, and thus he became the first victim of the second restoration. Poor Vert Vert ! peace to his manes ! Louis remained at the Chateau of Ecouen two days, to recover from the shock his nerves had sustained, also to see that all the ostenta- tiously displayed crowned ' N's,' which, with derisive pity, he pointed out to his indignant suite over certain doors and entrances of this imperial institution, were thoroughly effaced. 250 FORMING THE NEW MINISTRY. But while the King was reposing, Paris con- tinued in a very disturbed and unsettled state. The commission of government recommended resistance, if need were, even unto death. Many of the strong places of France also refused to surrender, and the general cry was, ' The country has been sold. A bas les Bour- bons ! Vive la nation ! ' However, on the 3rd of July, a capitulation — called a convention, to spare the feelings of the Parisians — was agreed upon. The French army to evacuate Paris in three days ; the main body of the English and Prussian troops to occupy it on the 6th ; and Louis — henceforth surnamed 'the Inevitable ' — to enter on the Sth. He had, however, stolen a march on rebellious Paris, and was already at the Chateau d'Arnouville. He was forming his new ministry there under the inspiration of MM. de Talleyrand and Fouche, who took their places — as of old under the revolutionary government and the imperial r(fgiine — of Minister of Foreign Affairs and Minister of Police. A new favourite, M. Decazes, was named Prefet of Police — M. de Talleyrand remarkino- of him that he had the manners and appearance of a barber's apprentice. As some far-seeing people STILL WATCHING AND WAITING. 251 perceived that M. Decazes was destined to become a personage of importance, Talleyrand's remark was treasured up by his enemies for use when needed ; nor was it forgotten b)- Decazes himself, to whose ears it came. The ao-ents of the Due d'Orleans had also taken advantage of the vehemence with which the return of Louis XVII!. was opposed, to put forward the claims of their patron, and had promised secretly to all parties the fulfilment of their wishes. Even the royalists were assured that if the crown were offered to the duke, he would accept it only to restore it to Louis XVIII. And there were many who, in their aversion to the latter, would have been w^illing that the Due d'Orleans should supersede him. He of course did not openly appear in the matter. He watched and waited, and left the rest to his partizans, contenting himself with requesting the Duke of Wellington to take up his quarters at his Chateau of Neuilly. But the allies did not favour his pretensions — they were wholly intent on upholding the rights of legitimacy. The proclamations concocted at Arnouville were therefore placarded on the walls of Paris as soon as the first instalment of 50,000 A REASSURING DOCUMENT. Prussian troops entered the city on the morning of the 6th to intimidate the people and to pre- vent their being torn down. But their acri- mony was by no means abated b)^ the tone of their gracious monarch's address to the French nation. It was commented upon in a very sarcastic spirit ; and it was with many a jest, inspired by bitterness of feehng, that those gathered around these placards either read, or were informed by others, that ' The King's powerful allies having dis- persed the tyrant's satellites, he was hastening back to his dominions to re-establish the con- stitution he had bestowed on France ; to repair the evil occasioned by the unaccountable revolt that had taken place, and of the war — its neces- sary result.' It was further stated that he proposed ' to recompense the faithful, and to put in force the existing laws against the guilty.' This reassuring document, dated from Cateau-Cambresis, was signed in the usual imposing form — ' Louis Stanislaus Xavier, by the grace of God King of France and Navarre,' ' and in the 20th year of our reign,' of course — to be insisted on now more strenuously than ever. Some person or persons, however, soothed mortified feeling, it may be supposed, THE TRIUMPHANT ARMY. 253 by tearing down part of the proclamations, and inserting in the greater number of those that remained the word ' 1' Inevitable ' after the name and ' against the will of the nation ' after ' by the grace of God.' ^ But this futile demonstration of the people's discontent, though it may have relieved its agents of a little superfluous spleen, necessarily availed not to change an iota of the programme of the two following days. On the 7th, another division of the Anglo- Prussian army, 50,000 strong, marched into Paris, and immediately began to conduct themselves most infamously — assuming the tone of masters in the houses where they were quartered. In the evening of the same day the enemy's artillery was heard rumbling and rolling over the stones with frightful fracas, as with boisterous triumph it was brouo^ht into Paris. In 1 8 14 the theatres were closed on the da)' of the entry of the hostile forces into the capital. On this occasion of still greater humiliation they were open — but by command, it was reported, in order to entice the people from the streets, where altercations were con- tinually taking place between the [)()i)ulace and ' Private letters of 1814 and 1815. 2 54 PATRIOTIC SENTIMENTS. the insolent soldiery. It was certainly doing the Parisians but little injustice, considering with what rapture they had welcomed their conquerors in the preceding year, to suppose that any depression of feeling consequent on the country's misfortunes would vanish before the attractions of a play. It was to the in- terest of the royalist party, too, to encourage this feelinor. A French writer has recorded that when the cannon of the Anglo- German army was rolling with a noise like thunder alonof the streets of Paris, a crowded audience had as- sembled to witness at the theatre of the Porte Saint-Martin the mdlodrame of the ' Pie voleuse' ('The Maid and the Magpie'); and that so utterly devoid was this large audience of pa- triotic sentiments, that the unwelcome sound raised in their stoical breasts no other feclino;- than a desire that the doors should be closed, as the noise prevented the actors from being distinctly heard. The French people are certainly credited with great volatility of character and very elastic spirits. Yet if a private letter of the period may be credited — speaking generally, but referring it would seem to the occasion THE ENEMY\S ARTILLERY. 255 above mentioned — the narrator of the above must have been misinformed. * It was a plea- sant summer evening,' says the writer; 'people of all classes were in the street, few beino- able to remain in their houses, listenino- in anxious suspense for what might occur or was occurrmg. * A long train of artillery was coming in with a rolling, rushing, echoing sound like thunder, and shaking, as it seemed, the houses to their very foundations. Many made a precipitate retreat ; others — women and children mostly — seemed for a moment panic-struck ; but per- ceiving that the theatre opposite was open, they rushed in, followed by a few men — fathers and husbands probably — filled the staircases and passages, and closed the doors.' If a large audience then filled the theatre, there, under these circumstances, they neces- sarily for a time were compelled to remain. This, too, appears to be the more natural occur- rence ; for at a time of such creneral agitation it seems incredible that a laree number of people, brought together by chance, should one and all be so utterly insensible to their country's misfortune. It should, however, be remembered that there was a satisfied as well as a dissatisfied 2 56 RESUMING THE WHITE COCKADE. party ; and that the Bourbons and their parti- zans, who had watched with fear and trembhng the course of events, were glad to be brought back at any cost to the nation. Louis XVIII. was again put in possession of the Tuileries on the 8th of July. He was accompanied by the Duke of Wellington and another 50,000 foreign troops ; also by the an- nouncement of a large pecuniary imposition, a military occupation, and the restitution of those treasures of art that formed the nation's most cherished trophies of its great captain's vic- tories. It is not surprising, then, to find the people repudiating Louis XVIII., and leaving to foreigners the dutv of escortino- and wel- com i no; him. His newly appointed Prefet of the Seine was, of course, at the barrier of Saint- Denis to harangue his sovereign, and attended by such officials as could not absent themselves. The national guard abstained from assembling, be- cause of an order from General Dessoles to resume the white cockade. The city, from the Champs- Elysees to the extreme end of the Bois de Boulogne, presented the appearance of a vast camp. Troops were bivouacking on the quays, in the squares, and public gardens. PRUSSIAN REPRISALS. 257 Cannon was levelled on the Tuileries and at the points where two or more streets crossed each odier, and English and Prussian soldiers were defiling on all sides, accompanied by drums and other military music. The inhabitants were in constant terror from the pillaging propensities of this army of 1 70,000 troops of all nations, to whose tender mercies the capital seems to have been given Li]j. Whatever they could lay their hands on in the houses where they were quartered these conquering heroes carried off and sold. The Prussians indulged In the most savage reprisals. They attacked the public monuments, menaced the column of the grand army, and, had they not been prevented, would, at Marshal Bliicher's suggestion, have blown up the bridges of Jena and Austerlitz, It is true that this ferocious old oreneral was then sufferinij from one of those strange fits he was subject to of confused thought bordering on mental alienation. Notwithstanding these troubles, a few en- thusiastic ladies of the extreme royalist party, who for the last twelve months had been vainly looklncr forward to the revival of the Court of the old n^ginie, imagined that this much-desired event could not now be far distant. ' The VOL. I. S 258 THE VIOLET AND THE FLEUR DE LYS. usurper 'was finally defeated, the King happily- restored to his kingdom, and a royal marriage, if not exactly on the tapis, at all events pro- spectively so. They would, therefore, go forth to welcome the King, and show him that the ladies of the Court, though neglected, were loyal. Arrayed in white silk, with lilies in their bonnets, and carrying each a bouquet of those rather flaunting white flowers, they await in the Tuileries gardens the King's return to his palace. The fragrant spring violets with which those gardens so lately were covered have been carefully cleared away, and the bright summer sun now shines on the fleur de lys. Suddenly and secretly this change has been made, and appears to be a surprise to most people, whose pleasure or indignation is expressed as their sentiments are hostile or favourable to the King. Perhaps it was intended thus to con- sole him for the disappearance of his cypher, his fletir dc lys, and all emblems of the Restora- tion, which, during his absence, the people, with a sort of patriotic emulation, had effaced throughout Paris — just as he, hoping to oblite- rate the memory of Napoleon, had ordered the effacement of his cypher and emblems wherever LOUIS niNEVITABLE. 259 they were met with. None, however, knew whence came the hHes ; whose hand had planted them, or ' whose was the treacherous thought ' — as some who were present angrily exclaimed — ' to pay this emblematical compliment to the King, regardless of the declared feeling of the nation.' This triflincf incident miMit have resulted in an dmeute, or, at all events, in the lesser evil of the total destruction of the flowers. But frowning foreign troops were drawn up around the palace, and a crowd had assembled, of whom but a few probably felt very deeply con- cerning the offending fletir de lys. They were far more anxious to see ' Louis 1' Inevitable ' — to support whose baseless throne 100,000 men had just fallen victims — re-enter his palace as a conqueror. But it was deemed advisable, as he could not walk in unassisted, that his entry should be effected rather stealthily. As hi^> foreign escort was so numerous, his descent from his carriage was effectually concealed, and he was borne in easily and speedily. 1 lis first appearance, then, was made in his cliair, wheeled into the balcony. A shout, long and loud, of ' Vive le roi ! ' greeted him, and — as appears to be always the s 2 26o THE LADIES' GREETING TO THE KING. case on such occasions — * " the air was rent " with the hearty acclamations of the people.' A Prussian band struck up the eternal ' Vive Henri IV. !' with the inseparable ' Charmante Gabrielle,' which may have been meant as a compliment to Madame du Cayla, who, although not visible, was quite within hearing of the joyous strains which were sure to restore the people's good humour. The ladies in white who came to welcome back the King, and who formed such a pretty group in the midst of the lilies, apparently were not received into the palace. Bowing and curtseying, and waving small white scarves, made up their greeting; which Louis graciously acknowledged by smiles and bows, a wave of the hand, and its momentary pressure on his heart. Nothing more, perhaps, could then well have been done. The King was tired ; his couch was preparing. He had been rather frightened too ; but on the whole, if his welcome had not been warm, his return had been well got over, and he was prepared for a good nieht's rest. The Dues d'Angouleme and dc Berry, unsuccessful in their attempt to propagate civil war in the southern, western, and northern TERRIFYING THE GUILTY. 261 departments, had repaired to the English head- quarters at Louvres, returning to Paris with the army. The elder Bourbons are, therefore, in spite of the nation's resistance, once more installed in the capital. The intrigues of the Due d'Orleans coming soon after to the King's ears, he is requested to return to England, and it is the King's declared intention that this wily candidate for his throne shall not be permitted to return to France. Great rejoicings and numerous fetes are in contemplation to cheer the spirits of his Majesty's sorely tried faithful lieges, and gene- rally to divert public attention from those signal punishments which are to ' strike terror into the hearts of the guilty.' The Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia, with the Emperor of all the Russias (whose troops, though marching towards Belgium, did not arrive in time to take part in the Waterloo battle), are daily expected in Paris to celebrate the abasement of France. The beginning of a new reiofn of terror is also at hand. ' We are going to punish, and punish severely,' is the announcement of the pious Duchesse d'Angou- leme — her countenance more radiant than her friends have before seen it since her return to 262 CATHERINE DE MEDICIS II. France. Her words are widely circulated — exultingly by the Bourbonites ; by others, to friends as a warning — and they obtain for the revenc^eful dauo-hter of Marie Antoinette the unenviable sobriquet of ' Catherine de Medicis the Second.' GREAT EXPECTATIONS. 263 CHAPTER XVII. Great Expectations— The Sanguinary White Terror— The Duke of Wellington's }5all— Debts of Friendship — Wholesale Plundering — A Repulse for the Duke — A Portrait of Madame Recamier — Seeking but the Tribute of a Tear — The General Amnesty— Paris stood aghast !— The Memo- rials of Victory — The Horses of the Sun — Ancient Tapestry — A Lamentable Falling-off— A Message from Heaven — The Imperial Convert — A Struggle for Fame— Mystical Influence— Differing Descriptions — An Embarrassing Com- mission. iCARCELY were the allied armies again in possession, than the English, who had fled with such haste on the approach of Napoleon, were crowding back to the French capital. Great gaieties were expected to follow the second restoration, the general peace, and the return of the emperors, kings, and princes to Paris. The luodistcs and couturicrcs, with similar expectations, were in- venting new fashions to harmonize with this looked-for revival of the too long suspended amenities of social life. 264 THE SANGUINARY WHITE TERROR. The white banner, flaunting again on the Vendome column, brought white dresses into favour ; and the season allowed of their general adoption, as well as of white bonnets, white veils, white fans, gloves, and parasols. Virgin white was encountered at every turn ; and such was the general passion for white that the sanguinary deeds then committing in the .south were distinguished by the name of the ' White Terror.' Unchecked by the Government, a sort of ' St. Bartholomew ' ensued, and crimes the most atrocious were perpetrated with impunity during this royalist reaction. None, without shuddering wuth horror, can read of the ferocious cruelties inflicted on Protestants and Bonapartists, as their victims were classed, by these partizans of the monarchy by right divine. The vile deeds of the Terror of '93 under the Jacobin Robespierre were not more revolting to humanity, nor is any crime recorded of it more savage, more ferociously barbarous, than the horrible assassination of Marshal Brune by the White Terrorists at Avignon. The blood runs cold at the mere thouc^ht of their murders by fire and sword, their exulta- THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S BALL. 265 tion over the agony of their victims, and their demoniacal dances and songs. As far as possible these excesses were con- cealed from the general public by false accounts in the Government papers. But if there were attempts at gaiety in Paris they were confined to the foreign visitors and invaders — for, except the extreme royalists, few beside participated in them. The Duke of Wellington soon after his entry gave a grand ball ; but invitations to it were rarely accepted by the French. Those who did attend ' compared themselves to victims asked to dance on the tomb of their country.' There was a superabundant display of lilies, real and artificial, on this occasion, but chiefly on the dresses of the English ladies, who, with their accustomed good taste, were wreathed and garlanded, festooned and draped, with these floral emblems to the fullest possible extent. A simple bouquet, or single ' sacred flower' worn in the hair, sufficed, in most instances, to attest the loyalty of the dlt^gantcs of the French beati, monde. Two or three there were, indeed, whose lukewarm royalism led thcni to substitute the modest lily-of-the-valley for the consecrated 266 DEBTS OF FRIENDSHIP. emblem of purity that descended from heaven on the sainted monarch who first bore it on his banner. But this ingenious attempt to defraud royalty of its due, be assured, would not pass unnoticed. The austere countenance of the resentful duchess would plainly indicate to those ladies, when next they presumed to pay their respects at the Tuileries, that their disloyal act was not unknown to her. Keen, far-seeing eyes, and acute ears, were present at all social gatherings to detect and report on the words and deeds and looks — one might almost say, and to read the thoughts, which were certainly often guessed at — of the company present. Unfortunately, however, this sort of espionage has been common to every rdgiine in France. Many of the English aristocracy were then in Paris, and received each other — ' as in the hmite socidtd frangaise, the women made it a rule that no one should propose the introduction of a foreign lady.' To be reminded of their emigra- tion, it was said, was not agreeable to them. And as to their debts of friendship, if they did not altogether repudiate, they barely acknow- ledged them, and avoided any renewal of inti- macy with their former friends. It is surpris- ing to find French royalists returning to their WHOLESALE PLUNDERLNG. 267 country cherishing the same prejudices against the Enghsh and holding the same ilhberal opinions concerning them as had been current in France before the Revolution. With Bonapartists, repubhcans, and some other sections of the pohtical world, hatred of the English would be explicable. Not so with royalist emigrants, who probably would never have seen their country again had England made peace with Napoleon (the better course for France, at all events, as some persons have thought), instead of assisting to restore the expelled dynasty. But whether or not, all parties were agreed in cordially detesting their conquerors — English and German — from the commanders-in-chief, their officers and troops, even to the most humble private traveller. As regards the military, there appears to have been very sufficient reason for general dissatisfaction — their extortion of sums of money and their wholesale plundering were shameful ; and they received no check from their commanders. It seems strano^e that the Duke of Welling- ton should have expected — as it appears he did expect — to find the favour he coveted in the eyes of Madame Recamier by ' exclaiming with much elation ' as, after his return from Waterloo, 268 A REPULSE FOR THE DUKE. he entered her salon, * I have beaten him ; thoroughly beaten him ! ' Madame Recamier has herself recorded that she was ' deeply pained.' On the former triumphant occasion, when introduced to her, she had not received him with that habitual sympathetic warmth of manner which with the charm of her beauty brought so many slaves to her feet. He was piqued at this coldness. But now he imagines all reserve will vanish. For he comes crowned with fresh laurels, announcing himself a victor, and claiming as his reward the approving smiles of beauty, as, bowing the knee before her, he seeks permission to kiss her hand. But she concedes neither. Before all things she is a Frenchwoman ; and he learns, apparently with surprise as well as mortification, that she is too profoundly grieved at the degradation of her country to feel flattered by the victor's homage. But Madame Recamier, who so entirely monopolized the attention of the gentlemen, young and old, grands seigneurs and men of humbler position, learned and unlearned, wealthy and poor, and of every nation, was often severely criticized by the ladies, who accused her of being, under those soft winning ways of hers, the most artful as well as heartless of r MADAME RECAMIER. A PORTRAIT OF MADAME RECAMJER. 269 coquettes. Miss Berry, who was then in Paris, speaking- of a reception at Madame Recamier's, sa)'s, ' She was recHning on a chaise longiie, with twelve or fifteen men in adoration around her. Only three or four ladies present.' Miss Berry, however, did not greatly admire her. Yet she had seen her in 1802, after the peace of Amiens, when she was in the full bloom of her beauty, being then but twenty-five. ' I met her,' she says, ' at a dinner at Mr. Francis Jackson's. She has the finest house in Paris, in the new style, and is herself the decided beauty of the new world ; for if she can be called handsome, she is entirely -2^ figure do fantaisic. Her complexion is clear, she is young and tall, and dressed, with much affec- tation of singularity, in the extravagance of fashion. Her manners are doucereuses, thinking much of herself, with perfect carelessness about others. She has pretensions, I understand, to bel esprit, besides being a beauty ; and they may be as well founded, yet not sufficient to burn her for a witch.' This, perhaps, is not quite a faithful portrait ; but women rarely do admire those of their own sex who usurp the admiration of men so unconscionably as did Madame Recamier. Instances of a woman exciting such general 270 SEEKING BUT THE TRIBUTE OF A TEAR. admiration and devoted passionate love are, however, very rare. Yet her reputation re- mained unblemished ; the tongue of scandal breathed no word against her fair fame, and that at a time when immorality was the rule of life. That she was to blame in fjivino- tacit encouragement to the ardent passion of Ben- jamin Constant, she herself, some few years later, acknowledged. But at the period now in question — 1815 — he was still in the agony of unrequited love, and still in Paris, hoping that a chance yet remained to him of being called upon to lay his head on the fatal block, or to bare his breast to receive death from the bullets of a party of soldiers. Only thus, he believed, could he inspire that cold bosom with pity — love he no longer looked for — and draw the tribute of a tear to his melancholy fate from the bright eyes that were not often reddened by tears. He has informed Madame Recamier of the Duchesse d'Angou- leme's widely circulated announcement, ' Notis allons pii7iir, et pu)iir beatuoup.' But Madame Recamier is not willing to have his death on her conscience. She implores him to leave Paris. ' Madame Constant de Rcbeque is anx- iously awaiting him in Brussels. Let him depart THE GENERAL AMNESTY. 271 and ease her fears, while yet there is time.' Not he. He will await the publication of the general amnesty, trusting to find himself on the list of those excluded from benefiting by it. For Benjamin Constant in his adherence to Napoleon has been more consistent than many others who declared in his favour on his return from Elba. He has publicly stated that the compact accepted and sworn to by the Emperor and the people, in the Champ de Mars on the I St of June, could not be annulled by the defeat of Waterloo. This sentiment, however honourable to him, of itself, would suffice to render him odious in the eyes of the King, who had obtained a law, voted unanimously and with much exultation by an obsequious royalist Chamber, declaring that • death was the only penalty that could atone for the unspeakable crime of aiding and abetting the guilty designs of the usurper.' Thus Louis was able to exclude from his ' gaieral amnesty ' fifty-seven leading men, whose ability or influence might be prejudicial to his and his family's designs. But as these assassinations must be perpetrated in Paris, their infamy was to be in some degree masked by conducting them under a judicial form. 272 PARIS STOOD AGHAST I What a spectacle to offer the gay throng who, on pleasure bent, then filled every room, from ground-floor to the eighth or ninth story, of every house in Paris that had not been fully taken possession of by the soldiers of the foreign armies ! Then there was the spoliation of the museums and national libraries. At this Paris stood aghast ! Rage filled every French- man's breast — so deeply was the national pride wounded — and curses loud and deep were poured on the heads of the allies. All other miseries — even the millions of the indemnity and the presence and maintenance of the army of occupation — seemed to sink into insignific- ance compared with this one great humiliation. For besides being trophies of the victories of the French arms, the greater part ceded to France by the Treaty of Tolentino, those fine productions of Raphael, Pietro de Cortoni, Corregio, Canachi, and other eminent masters of the old Italian school, when removed from Italy were fast going to destruction from ex- treme neglect. It was necessary, either care- fully to restore, to clean, or in some cases, as the only means of saving them, to transfer these cJicfs-d'' oeiivrc to new canvas before they could be publicly exhibited. It was then for THE MEMORIALS OF VICTORY. 273 the first time that their beauty became appa- rent to their former possessors, who now cla- moured for their return, together with the ancient sculpture, whose dilapidations had been treated with similar care — occupying, with the pictures, many able artists a period of two years to complete. Even Louis XVIII., so anxious to get rid of everything recalling the memory of the ' usurper,' as he invariably termed his great predecessor, was very loth to part with these memorials of the usurper's victories. Their removal was effected under the super- intendence of Canova, the Emperor's liberally patronized and favourite sculptor. ' No French- man,' says an eye-witness^ of these scenes of lamentation and despair on the one part and of ruffianly insolence on the other, * would aid in this work. Promises of reward, threats of punishment, were alike ineffectual. Porters, labourers, men plying for work, would not, indeed, dared not — such was the exasperation of the people — render any assistance to the. spoilers. The Murillos had chiefly fallen to the share of the generals ; but, though con- sidered private property, their restitution was demanded, and obtained.' ' Helen Maria Williams, Letters, &c. VOL. L T 274 THE HORSES OF THE SUN. It was found necessary to surround the Place du Carrousel and the entrances to the Louvre with troops, to keep off the French ; only foreigners were allowed to pass in while the Venus and Apollo were being put into their cases, or coffins. Artists wept over them and passionately kissed them, as though separating from loved friends. Austrian cavalry were stationed around while Austrian workmen brought down the famous Horses of the Sun from the arch of the Carrousel. It had been attempted in the night, lest royal eyes should be offended, royal feelings wounded. But the attempt was unsuccessful. It appears to have been attended with great difficulty, increased by the repeated attempts of the people to enter the place in spite of the cavalry. At last the descent of the steeds was accomplished. But before they were unhar- nessed, English ladies, who were present to | witness as a morning's amusement a scene so ' painful to French ladies, are said to have 'placed themselves triumphantly in the Car of! Victory, to which Napoleon had attached the famous bronze horses.'^ Of course the ambition of these English ladies did not add either to! ^ Helen Maria Williams, Letters, &c. ANCIENT TAPESTRY. 275 their own or their nation's popularity at that critical period. Many similar scenes occurred in Paris at this time — very distressing to some persons, very gratifying to the bad feeling of others. The 2,000 MSS. from the Vatican, which were part of the spoils of the Thirty Years' War, presented to the Pope by General Tilly, but ceded to France by the Treaty of Tolen- tino, were claimed by the Margrave of Baden, whose claim, it appears, was allowed. There were even claimants for the cabinet of natural history in the Jardin des Plantes. To cover the bare walls of the museum, the spoilers were good enough to leave the ancient tapestry, said to have been worked by the queen of William the Norman and her ladies, representing the taking of the city of London and other of his conquests in England. The Parisians had hoped much from the interference of the Emperor Alexander, who in the previous year had played the part of King of Paris with such general approbation, and was confessedly so French in his sym- pathies. Count Nesselrode, in the Emperor's name, did represent to Lord Castlereagh that the whole proceeding was inexpedient, but •J' z 276 A LAMENTABLE FALLhNG-OFF. simply because it would place Louis XVIII. in an unpleasant position as regarded the public. But Lord Castlereagh had already urged in favour of the restitution of the Italian pictures, &c., that ' it would be more advantageous for the arts to be cultivated in Rome.' There the matter ended. But Alexander had really less influence on the present than on the former occasion. His troops were withdrawn, not having been en- gaged at Waterloo. It was, besides, apparent to the ladies who had been most eao^er to welcome him back — fancying that on his reappearance the fetes and rejoicings would begin in good earnest — that a very marked change had come over him. There was no abatement in the general courtesy of his manners, but there was certainly a falHng-off of that gallantry which was so flatterinof even to those who were not the most marked objects of his attention. Some thought he was annoyed that his troops had missed their share of the honours of Waterloo ; others that he had adopted a serious air as being more suited to the title of ' Blessed^ which, with a sort of political canonization, had been decreed him by the Senate of St. Petersburg. The Emperor had, however, declined to A MESSAGE FROM HEAVEN. 277 accept that strange title ; it being ' inconsistent,' he said, ' with the simpHcity and moderation of which he had desired to set the nation an example.' But disappointed society was not destined long to remain in doubt as to the cause of the change so deeply lamented in their, former ' adorable Emperor.' Following quickly on his arrival was the reappearance of Madame de Kriidener in Paris ; and if the salons, where so many bright eyes once welcomed him, had lost their charm for the melancholy Czar, the society of that mystical lady had become especially attractive to him. At Heilbronn she at last succeeded in throwing her spell over him. ' A message from heaven,' says M. Eynard, her fullest biographer and firmest believer in what she termed her mission, * sent her thither, having numberless and won- derful things to tell him.' It was, however, only by stratagem that she obtained her first inter- view with him, when, ' tearing the veil from his eyes, she showed him that he was a sinner.' A long sermon followed ; and, according to M. Eynard, ' he listened attentively to it, concealed his face with his hands, and wept abundantly.' ' Madame,' he said, after their interview had lasted three hours, ' Madame, your words are 278 THE IMPERIAL CONVERT. music to my soul. I beg that our interviews may be frequently renewed, and that you will not leave Heilbronn.' At Heidelberg, whither she followed, the same sort of intercourse took place ; he entreating the support of her pre- sence, she vaunting him as ' great ; great with the greatness of a Christian.' Apart from her mysticism and the spiritual communication she professed to hold with heaven, she did some jjood at Heidelberg; and elsewhere — visitino- the prisons and reading the Scriptures to criminals under sentence of death. In Paris Madame de Krildener found more difficulty in keeping her imperial convert within the charmed circle of her influence. 'It re- quired,' says M. Eynard, ' a tact that only the Spirit of God could inspire — for she was in danger of losing him either by too much severity or by permitting too much laxity.' She took advantage of those fits of melancholy that occasionally came over him when recalling with remorse his complicity in his father's down- fall. Then she subjugated him entirely. At other times she flattered his immense amour- propre by assuring him that he was the angel destined to carry out the will of the Lord on earth. A STRUGGLE FOR FAME. 279 Their mysterious intercourse gave rise to much curiosity in Paris. And when it was dis- covered that they passed the evening in reading the Bible, Madame interpreting it according to instructions received direct in poetical visions from heaven — ' visions or hallucinations resem- bling in their extravagance those of Swedenborg, but minus their obscenity and revolting horrors ' — a sort of indignant pity was felt for the Czar's blindness and folly. Jokes at his expense, both mirthful and sarcastic, were, however, not spared. Nor did the beau moizdes^dLVG the lady, the depravity of whose early life had caused much scandal, even in dissipated Paris and other capitals, in the period preceding the Empire. The story of the strange steps she had taken in 1803 to secure success for her novel of' Valerie' was revived, and obtained a revival of its popularity. It is said to be the account of her own career, much poetized of course, and told in the form of letters. She was desirous of literary fame at that time, and, as she was wealthy, she employed poets to write enthusiastic sonnets addressed to her in the public prints. In Paris she inquired at the most fashionable shops for toilettes a la Valdrie — bonnets, yf^//?^j-, gloves, &c. — and as they had 28o MYSTICAL INFLUENCE. not been heard of she described and ordered them. Forthwith they appeared, and with the toilette the novel also became known and in vogue. But although society laughed at the now rigid priestess and her imperial convert, and amused themselves greatly over the exaggerated reports of their proceedings, yet curiosity drew many to the religious meetings or receptions of this repentant Magdalen. She had a fine hotel in the Faubourg Saint- Honore, its gardens then extending to the Champs-Elysees. There she and the Emperor walked in the evening, dis- coursing probably on the prescribed form of the Holy Alliance which was shortly to be the result of her influence, or on the New Jerusalem, which the initiated understood to be the symbol of a social renovation or revolution she aspired either to establish or lead. All were welcomed who chose to attend her receptions, her object being to gain proselytes. The entertainment consisted of alternate prayer and preaching, during which her professed followers knelt. Having a great flow of pas- sionate eloquence, and a vivid imagination, she sometimes acquired a fleeting influence over' those of her auditors who were sentimentally DIFFERING DESCRIPTIONS. 281 inclined. Yet generally she made more im- pression on men than on her own sex. Some accounts speak of her as a woman of imposing appearance ; but the descriptions of her person by two individuals who knew her well and con- versed with her often are so entirely different that it is impossible to reconcile them as de- scribing the same person. Mademoiselle de Cochelet, one of the ladies of Queen Hortense, speaking of her Avhen at Carlsruhe — she was anxious to find a convert in the ex-queen — says, ' Her small slight figure and extreme spareness ' (' sa petite taille mince, son excessive maigreur,' &c.), her fair hair, in the greatest disorder, and the animated expression of her eyes, imparted to her person a sort of supernatural air. Her fanatical disciple, M. Eynard, says she was ' tall ' (' de grande taille '), of dusky complexion, with protruding lips, large blue eyes, charming fair hair, and arms of real beauty.' He adds, 'She was a very rich heiress ; ' and it appears that in Geneva and other places, whence the police expelled her, she bought most of her proselytes. Her mode of impressing those who attended her sdances in Paris was to stand in a sort of dim religious light — obtained by the arlilicial 282 AN EMBARRASSING COMMISSION. arrangement of lamps and draperies — at the end of a succession of salons widely opening into each other. There, kneeling, with up- raised eyes and arms, she prayed with much apparent fervour. Afterwards, advancing to the next salon, she began to preach, growing more excited as she proceeded, and generally concludinof with a denunciation of the wicked- ness of the age and a prediction of the ap- proaching end of the world, Benjamin Constant was much impressed by her ecstatic performances. She charged him with what he termed a most embarrassing commis- sion — a request to Madame Recamier that if she visited her again to come less beautiful, as she distracted people's attention.' ' You cannot, of course, divest yourself of your charms,' he wrote to Madame Recamier, * but do try not to heighten them.' PLEASURE, AN EMIGRANT. 283 CHAPTER XVIII. leasure, an Emigrant— Fouche in a New Character— A Mar- riage in High Life — Pleading in vain for Clemency — A Chance for Benjamin Constant — ' I crave the law ! ' — The Marshal and the Monarch — Judging Marshal Ney — 'Sol- diers ! do your duty ! ' — ' Spare the face— aim at the heart ! ' — The Royal Mind in a Ouandaiy — Counsels of the chere amie — Justifying their Position— Fouchd en retraite — Eschewing Politics — Pure Royalists — An Imitator of Madame Rocamier — Rival Favourites — A Gratifying An- nouncement. \HOUGH the streets of Paris had per- haps never before been so thronged, yet the throng for the most part was a very unwelcome one. Though there was no lack of bustle and activity in the city, yet it was not due to increased briskness of trade, but to the hurrying to and fro, and in all direc- tions, of agents and porters employed by 'the allied enemies ' — as the favourite phrase was — bearing away the art treasures torn from the Paris museums. An unaccustomed Moom hung over the capital. Pleasure was said to 284 FOUCHE IN A NEW CHARACTER. have emigrated, while many called pleasure the fifty-eighth victim of the general amnesty. The spirits of the Parisians were saddened by what was passing around them, by the news that every post brought of the terrible reprisals in La Vendee and elsewhere ; and they mourned by anticipation over the victims whose blood was to be shed in their midst — to be poured forth as a libation to appease the wrath of the son of Saint Louis. But let them repress their murmurs, and give no expression to their feel- ings, for the duchess's order has gone forth to ' resent all insulting cries.' Perhaps comfort may be derived from the thought that some of the victims will escape ; for Fouche, the powerful Minister of Police, even he has shrunk from putting into execution the Draconian law of the royalist chambers. Before signing the order for the arrest of the fifty-seven victims — mark how scrupulously conscientious he had become — before signing the King's order for their arrest, it is asserted that he signed fifty-seven passports, and warned those to whom they were despatched to put themselves out of danger ; and, lest funds for the purpose should not at the moment be readily obtainable, he enclosed a sum sufficient A MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE. 285 to enable them to reach the frontier — as much, it is said, as 500,000 francs (20,000/. ster- ling). It is to be hoped this is true, and that, having" done so much harm, he sought by doing a little good to make some slight atonement. He had just married his second wife, Mdlle. de Castellane. The lady was neither youthful nor rich, but of a very noble royalist family. Yet she disdained not the title of Duchesse d'Otranto, to which a disgraceful notoriety, rather than honour, was attached. The mar- riage of this red-handed revolutionist was quite a grand affair, with all the old regime cere- monial. The Comte d' Artois was present, and signed the marriage contract. Some accounts assert that the King's signature was also attached to it. This is doubtful, however, for Louis detested F'ouche ; but it is certain that the greater part of the Faubourg Saint-Germain assisted at the ceremony. Fouche thought to sustain himself by this alliance at the Court of the Restoration. Nevertheless, his days as Minister of Police were numbered. But Fouche's generosity and desire to save life on the occasion of his marriage availed but little. Few of the doomed victims cared to 286 PLEADING IN VAIN FOR CLEMENCY. escape, and fewer still to accept a pecuniary- gift from Fouche to enable them to profit by his warning. General de La Bedoyere, who disdained to hide himself in the provinces, was the first to suffer ; and it was he whom the restored monarch was anxious first to strike. He and his troops marched out of Grenoble to meet the Emperor, and joined him before he entered the town. He was also urgent in his efforts to obtain the recognition of Napoleon n. by the provisional government, and com- mitted the further offence of remaining faithful to the Emperor in his adversity and accompany- ing him to Rochefort. He was not allowed to offer any explanation of his conduct, and of course he was condemned to death. Many friends strove to save him. Even Madame de Kriidener interposed, and appealed to the Duchesse d'Angouleme. She might as well have appealed to one of the stone statues in the Tuileries gardens. Alexander also, in the presence of the princess, blamed both the arrest and the sentence of La Be- doyere, and pleaded for clemency. ' Why employ so much severity ? ' he said ; * and what good can it lead to ? ' ' Sire,' replied the duchess, 'justice re- A CHANCE FOR BENJAMIN CONSTANT. 287 quires firmness, and measures calculated to inspire awe.' ' Madame, if justice has its rights, clemency also claims hers,' said the emperor. ' Clemency,' she answered, ' is the equiva- lent of weakness.' * You mistake, madame ; clemency, or charity, will gain hearts, and will subdue them,' rejoined the emperor. But such sentiments had no place in the breast of the duchess. She breathed only vengeance. La Bedoyere met his fate with much calm- ness and courage. But when, having disposed of him, the Chambers again met, there appeared to be a chance of M. Benjamin Constant be- cominof the interestiuQf individual he was anxious to be, in order to inspire that tender pity which claims close kindred with love. Violent royalists declared that he deserved the same fate as La Bedoyere. However, as his name was not on the fatal list, he was not molested — purposely overlooked, perhaps — his facile pen being- wanted. He had already written a panegyric on the King, and allowed Madame Rccamicr to see it. ' If it were known,' he said, 'that I had written it, I should at once be accused of wanting to sell myself But it is to you onl)' 288 ' / CRA VE THE LAM^ /' that I make this offer, and you refuse to buy me.' The next victim was Marshal Ney, ' bravest of the brave.' Arrested in the department of Cantal, he was transferred to Paris, to be interrogated first by the King's favourite, 'the simpering Decazes,' then by a council of war — probably by way of further humiliating the marshal, and adding a sharper sting to his mental torture : for his sentence was already pronounced, his condemnation being made a question of State by the King, the Comte d'Artois, and the Duchesse d'Angouleme. She, unhappy woman, was wondrously active in bafflinof the efforts of friends and relatives to save the lives of the condemned men, or to spare them any added ignominy to the sentence of death. Marie Antoinette was never more persistent in obtaining grants of money and pensions to heap on her worthless favourites, regardless of the poverty of the State and the sufferings of the people, than was her daughter at this period in slaying — so far as counten- ancinof such deeds availed — all who had been guilty of serving their old master with more fidelity than the new one. There was some difficulty in assembling a THE MARSHAL AND THE MONARCH. 289 council of war to try the great marshal. Many officers begged to be excused from being included in it ; others declined, for they were bound to condemn, while they desired to acquit him, but had not the courage to do so. The oldest of the marshals, Marshal Moncey, was chosen president, when at last seven officers were prevailed on to form a council. But the veteran soldier absolutely refused, and informed the King of his resolve. At the same time he pleaded nobly and courageously for the accused marshal. ' Reflect, sire,' he wrote, * reflect on this matter. Believe me, it is both dangerous and impolitic to drive brave men to desperation. Ah ! it might well have been that the un- fortunate Marshal Ney, if he had shown at Waterloo that decision he so many times before displayed elsewhere, instead of being dragged before a military commission, would have been implored by those who now seek his death to extend protection to them.' The magnanimous Louis was astounded at the old marshal's presumption. The reply to his letter was an announcement of his degradation in military rank and condemnation to three months' im- prisonment. VOL. I. U -zgo JUDGING MARSHAL NEY. The seven officers who formed the mihtary commission, having gone through the form of interrogating Ney, declared, by a vote of five against two, that they were not competent to be his judges — thus transferring the odium of condemnincr him to the Chamber of Peers — Ney being a peer of France. The Due de RicheHeu appeared as his accuser. ' We come,' he said, addressing the assem- bled peers, ' not in the name of the King only, but also in the name of France — indignant and amazed at the crime — and even in the name of Europe, to adjure and require you to judge the Marshal Ney.' The marshal's ad- vocates, MM. Berryer and Dupin, saw at once that there was no hope for the accused ; for to judge meant in this case to condemn. But Dupin pleaded that Sarrelouis — Ney's birth- place — by the late convention, was no longer a part of France. Ney, replying to this plea, said, ' I am a Frenchman. I shall die free. My appeal is to Europe and posterity.' Most of the peers of the Empire declined to vote ; the ecclesiastical peers took no part in the proceedings. Seventeen others voted for banishment ; but for death the majority, in com- pliance with the royal wish, was overwhelming. 'SOLDIERS/ DO YOUR DUTY/' 291 It was, however, hoped — against hope, pro- bably — that the sentence only would satisfy the King. Immediately, therefore, the most strenu- ous efforts were made to obtain its remission. But when those who came to plead for the life of a great and brave man arrived at the palace, his gracious Majesty was going to bed (the execution was to take place at dawn on the following morning), and would not even listen to a word they had to say. Waving his hand as he was wheeled away, he exclaimed, ' Let me hear when I awake that the traitor has paid the forfeit of his crime ! ' The people of ' indignant France ' uttered the word ' rescue ! ' Secretly the scene of the murder was then changed from the plain of Crenelle to the esplanade facing the Observa- tory, and the deed fixed to take place half an hour earlier. The marshal seemed surprised on alicjhtino- from his carriacre, but observed, with a peculiar smile, as guessing the reason, ' It is to be done here, is it ? ' Then placing himself against the wall opposite the twelve reluctant assassins, ' Soldiers ! ' he said, ' do your duty — straight to the heart ! ' Twelve balls pierced him, and, as he fell, he exclaimed 'Vive la France!' He was buried next day, u 2 292 'SPARE THE FACE— AIM AT THE HEART/' without any ceremony at Pere La Chaise, while the poHce were busy in effacing the blood of the 'bravest of the brave' from the wall against which, in his 46th year, he was shot. A few weeks earlier, after many romantic adventures, there perished at Pizzo, at the same age and in the same manner, by order of Ferdinand, the restored King of Naples, a former brother-in-arms of Marshal Ney — Joachim Murat, the 'Achilles,' as he was called, of the French army. He was shot in less than half an hour after sentence of death was pro- nounced. He met his fate very courageously; and, with something of the romance with which all his acts were tino-ed, he died holdino- in his hand a cornelian cameo head of his wife. Thinking, too, a little of his personal appear- ance after death (he was a handsome man), he exclaimed, as he bared his breast to receive the bullets, ' Soldiers ! spare the face — aim at the heart.' Many executions which throughout the country had caused more or less sensation had taken place. Yet there remained two or three individuals of note still at large, when the question of the expediency of finding a wife for the Due de Berry was again seriously discussed. THE ROYAL MIND IN A QUANDARY. 293 The Grand-Duchess Anne, the Emperor Alex- ander's youngest sister, was first thought of. She was on the cards when Napoleon was look- ing around the Courts of Europe for a youthful bride, and had now just attained her twenty- first year. She was extremely handsome ; but she was not a Roman Catholic, and the empress dowager, her mother, was unwilling that she should become one. Of greater importance still, M. de Talleyrand had so flattered Louis XVI II. 's absurd pride in his ancient and saintly descent, when formerly discussing this marriage question, that a doubt now suggested itself to the royal mind of the eligibility of a member of so parvenu a family as the Romanoffs for the honour of beinof the bride of a Bourbon, It was, however, most desirable — the throne being now so firmly rooted in the affections of the people — that the elder branch of the royal line should not die out. Of the occurrence of this melancholy event there seemed to be every chance ; for no youthful heir was ex- pected from the Angoulemes ; and the dissi- pated De Berry appeared satisfied with his left-handed union, and much attached to his English wife and his children. The Comtc d'Artois was therefore urged again to enter 294 COUNSELS OF THE CHERE AM IE. the holy estate of matrimony, and to seek a bride among the youthful princesses of Europe. But he, alas ! was already bound by solemn vows to his heavenly bride, the Comtesse Polastron. Besides the one cogent reason for enlarging the family circle, there was another of consider- able weight. Louis began to perceive that the Court of the Tuileries was a court only in name, and that even the exclusives of the Faubourg Saint-Germain were susjoected of looking back with regret to the brilliant Court of the Empire. In this dilemma, he consulted Madame du Cayla ; who told him that the only way of bringing back mirth and gaiety to the now silent saloons of the royal dwelling, and probably securing also the much-desired heir — to the discomfiture of his serene highness of Orleans — was to find forthwith a young and sprightly Duchesse de Berry. Her counsels, always prudent, always convincing to the King, are agreed to. But before the marriage bells can be rung, certain matters of State must be settled. M. Blacas-d'Aulps, with whom the ministry will not transact business, all favourite and old friend though he is, is dismissed at the fair countess's sucfiiestion.. JUSTIFYING THEIR POSITION. 295 He is sent to Rome — which in his case is equivalent to being sent to Coventry, but with an ample fortune to console him — to urge the Pope on the subject of the Concordat, and — vainly, as it proves — on that of the 19th year and the coronation. The two men who have made themselves Louis' stepping-stones to the throne are also to be discarded. In vain they have turned their coats and sought to justify their position in the new order of things — Talleyrand, by informing the King how France should now be governed, and by endeavouring to obtain more favourable terms from the allies for their aid in getting rid of the ' usurper ' — Fouche, who as he drew nearer to the close of his career would seem to have become sick of blood and outrage, by laying before the King a truly pathetic picture of the state to which unhappy France and her people were reduced, Fouche, who, by means of his well-trained agents and perfectly organized system, of police, knew everything that was said or done, or pro- posed to be done, in Paris, and indeed through- out France, was well aware that there was a cabal against him, and that his dismissal was imminent. He therefore at once placed the 296 FOUCHE EN RETRAITE. King" in a dilemma by a premature request to accept his resignation and to appoint him his representative at the Saxon Court. There were individuals in the Government who thought the affairs of France must come to a standstill if Fouche did not hold office. Hence the King's perplexity. He, however, took the opportunity of appointing his favourite Decazes to fill the vacant post of Minister of Police. There was also a plot on foot to assassinate Fouche on his journey, but he amused himself by effectually thwarting it. When, some few months later, the law disqualifying * conven- tionalists and regicides ' from holding any office under the Government deprived him of his post at the Saxon Court, Fouche retired, first to Prague, then to Lintz, to live en prince on his immense private fortune.^ M. de Talleyrand pursued a contrary plan. He clung to his p07^tefeuille of foreign affairs, and had the mortification of being told by the King that a change in the ministry would alone obtain some favourable terms from the allies. Stung to the quick in his amotLv-propre ' He died in 1820, aged 66, at Trieste, of a pulmonary complaint. Though so infamous in his public career, he is said to have been most estimable in his domestic relations. ESCHEWING POLITICS. 297 as a diplomatist, he then offered his resignation. In his most gracious manner, and with many acknowledo-ments for thus sacrificino; himself to reasons of State, Louis smilingly took M. de Talleyrand at his word, and . transferred his portefeidlle to the hands of the Due de Richelieu. The great influence which the Comtesse du Cayla had obtained over the mind of Louis XVI n. was very evident in this political intrigue. In secret intelligence with the Emperor Alexander and the Due de Richelieu, she had prepared the fall of the ministry, and induced him to favour a new one of purely royalist principles ; and she is said to have owed this singular empire over him far less to her beauty than to her tact. What he had refused the Comte d'Artois and the Duchesse d'Angouleme, he at her persuasion consented to. She passed two hours with him daily in literary conversation — criticizing the works of the day, and repeating stanzas of the poetry of other days. Political subjects were supposed to be for- bidden. Yet she contrived to introduce lively remarks on the events of the time, and generally succeeded, by a sort of refined cajolery in which 298 PURE ROYALISTS. she was an adept, in bringing him over to her views. It was his habit to affect to defer to them from gallantry, but usually he yielded to her wishes, whatever they chanced to be. She obtained from him the pardon of the Due de Rovigo — General Savary — who, as Minister of Police, had never refused her a passport for Holland when her health needed change of air. As he was attached to Napoleon, and she was very assiduous in her attendance at the Imperial Court, he may not have suspected that from Holland she passed over to England. At all events, she was sufficiently grateful for her passport to save the general's life. On the other hand, she is accused of having had a part in preparing the list of the fifty-seven who were excepted from the general amnesty. But this may not be true — for, as a Court favourite, and the amic dtc ccetcr of an old dotard, she naturally had many enemies. The men chosen to form the new cabinet had all given proofs of pure royalism during the Hundred Days. It included a traitor duke of the Empire, General Clarke, Due de Feltre. Yet so extremely pure were they that exception was taken to M. Decazes, formerly Madame Loctitia's secretary, afterwards Louis THE NEW PREFET DE POLICE. 299 Bonaparte's representative in Paris when King of Holland. He had worn the tricoloured cockade as captain of the 2nd legion of the national guard, but exchanged it for a white one when he found that white was the winning colour. On Napoleon's arrival from Elba, Decazes Avas present when the magistrates of the Supreme Court assembled to vote an address to him. Having expressed some disapproval of the language employed, it was replied that * he who had been able to reconquer his king- dom without difficulty, and in the course of a rapid march, might well be termed its legiti- mate sovereign.' ' I never before heard,' he answered audaciously, ' that legitimacy was the prize of a race.' The government of the Hundred Days thought it worth while to invite him to take up his abode at a distance of forty leagues from the capital. This brought him into favour with Louis XVni., and obtained for him the post of Prefet of Police. In this capacity he still further won the royal favour by placing before the King in piquant language a sort of daily cJn'oniqiie scandalettsc oi \\\(t capital. His win- ning manners completed the conquest. He 300 RIVAL FAVOURITES. seems to have imitated Madame Recamier, and has been compared to her, in the warm interest he affectedly evinced towards all he came in contact with — seizinsf both hands of utter strangers in his eager sympathy, and looking into their eyes with a kind of earnest pleasure as he listened to the most common- place utterances. The fair countess resfarded M. Decazes with no friendly eye. His growing favour alarmed her, and secretly she strove to undermine his credit with the Kino-. In this manner she obtained toleration for herself with the count and the duchess and the Pavilion Marsan circle generally, who disliked both these favourites, and hoped to secure the coiigd of both by the cordial dislike they entertained for each other. But nothing of the sort occurred. The countess, as the King's spiritiLclle amie intime, remained inaitresse-en-titre to the end ; while M, Decazes, confirmed in his post of Minister of Police, with the direction — as the King added, laying some stress on the words — of the ' travail secret ' of his department, continued some years in office. When a change came, he was far too im- portant and wealthy a personage to fawn on or A GRATIFYING ANNOUNCEMENT. ^oi to fear either the delle comtesse or the Pavilion Marsan. His influence with the Kino- was employed rather beneficially for France than otherwise — his constitutional principles being opposed to the retrograde sentiments and im- politic measures of the * ultras ' ; a term first employed by M. Decazes to designate the ' pure royalists.' ' We have been tricked,' said the Prince de Benevento to his colleagues, when the new cabinet was formed : ' this is an intrigue that has been long in hand.' He, however, secured a retiring pension of ioo,coo francs, and a sinecure of importance in the King's household ; while Louis was able, first preluding on the theme of the * inconceivable defection,' to open his new Chambers with this gratifying announcement — the indemnity was reduced by his efforts from a thousand to seven hundred millions of francs (28,000,000/. sterling), to be paid in five years, ' 150,000 troops to remain in occupation until the indemnity should be fully paid.' Gratify- ing indeed ! The first war tax was imme- diately levied, and great difficulty experienced in collecting it. Riots ensued, blood was shed, and ' A bas les Bourbons ! ' ' Vive Napoleon ! ' were cries which the utmost efforts of the police BOURBON REPRISALS. were unable wholly to repress. ' The scaffold and the dungeon,' says a French writer/ 'could tell some deplorable acts of reprisal at this time on the part of the rulers whom the coalition of kings had inflicted on a prostrate nation.' • Madame Jiinot. THE CHATEAU OF SAINT-CLOUD. 303 CHAPTER XIX. The Chateau of Saint-Cloud— A Model of Perfection— The Fountains of Saint-Cloud— The Exclusives— ZL^-j honnC'tes gens— A Heartrending Scene— ' Jeanne d'Arc'— Thalia and Melpomene— The Royalist Actress — Rehearsing a Love Scene — A Doubtful Compliment — ' Must he, too, have his mistresses!' — 'When mercy seasons justice' — Something about to Happen — INIademoiselle Garnerin— An Anxious Throng — Hope told a Flattering Tale. >ARIE ANTOINETTE'S Chateau of Saint-Cloud had become, under the Napoleonic regime, a truly pa- latial residence. A handsome theatre had been erected, and some fine saloons added to the old chateau ; while the whole had been very richly redecorated, but in excellent taste, and sumptuously furnished. Louis XVIII. from his youth had loved splendour and luxury in his surroundings almost as much as from the same early period he had loved to indulg-e in the pleasures (as gluttony is termed) of the; tabk>. He was therefore delighted, when he paid liis 304 A MODEL OF PERFECTION. first visit to Saint-Cloud, to determine what portion of the chateau he preferred for his own exckisive residence, to find in the private apart- ments the same happy combination of magnifi- cence, elegance, and comfort, so suited to his self-indulgent and luxurious habits, as, with unlooked-for satisfaction, he had succeeded to at the Tuileries. He was under the delusion that, besides being of more illustrious descent than any other human being — for he scarcely deemed even his brother and nephews quite his equals in that respect — he surpassed all men in natural endow- ments, both intellectual and personal ; and, as a matter of course, in the profundity of his learning, as well as worldly wisdom and general knowledge. He piqued himself no less on the perfection of his taste, which in early years had been guided b}^ that of his reputed mistress Madame de Balby — the lady who burnt the furniture of the apartments he had prepared for her, because of its want of harmony and proper proportions. The embellishments of his favourite chateau and domain of Brunoy were completed according to her designs or sug- gestions ; and, though there may have been exaggeration in the praises bestowed on them, THE FOUNTAINS OF SAINT-CLOUD. 305 Brunoy was regarded on the whole as a model of what perfection of taste, with total disregard of cost, can effect. When, therefore, at Saint-Cloud Louis XVIII. was graciously pleased to accord the * usurper ' the possession of a modicum of that perfect taste of which he believed himself to have a superabundance, it must be admitted that it was praise indeed. And this praise was fully echoed by all who were privileged to see the embellishments and luxurious arrangements that had called forth the unwilling compliment. But it was not only in the palace, but in the park and grounds of Saint-Cloud, that the master's improving hand was visible. They had been much enlarged, and laid out in less formal style. The waterworks, too, had been arranged on a much improved system, and both the volume of water and the heicjht of the principal jets increased — glittering drops falling in a shower, or in feathery spray, varying their former monotony. These fountains when in full play had always been an attractive sight. But agitating recent events had so fully occupied the attention of both people and rulers that some months had elapsed since they were announced, as formcrh'. VOL. I. X 3o6 THE EXCLUSIVES. to play at stated intervals. The Parisians seemed to have given up their customary Sunday jaunt to Saint-Cloud ; and the fountains, continuing to send forth no water, were in a fair way of being forgotten. Paris, however, was full of English and other visitors, of whom a very considerable sprinkling, though possessing what was something less per- haps of 2i passe-partout then than now — a well- filled purse — had not the eiitrtfe to the salons of the dite, English or foreign. Lord and Lady Castlereagh and Lord Stewart were supposed to keep open house, though all were excluded except the exclusives. Then there were Lady Malmesbury's and the Duchess of Wellington's receptions, which, like other English salons, looked very brilliant and gay when crowded with richly dressed women, military officers, and diplomatists. But the fine dresses and uniforms are said to have been the gayest part of the entertainment. The few French ladles whom curiosity at- tracted to these exclusive gatherings pronounced them dull — Inexpressibly dull. The men were said to congregate in groups to discuss public affairs. The ladles were left to criticize each other, or, at best, to laugh at French fashions, as LES HONN^TES GENS. 307 the French laughed at the Enghsh, their straw hats, their green veils and silk spencers, which they ended by adopting. They modified them certainly, and thus they were readopted by the English as a caprice of la mode frangaise. Those unfortunate individuals who were a step or two too low on the social ladder to obtain an introduction to this dull but distin- guished circle, ventured — just as cats are per- mitted to look at kings — to get a view of the sovereigns and magnates of Europe at the theatres. It appears that on reassembling in Paris at the second restoration they did not, as on the first occasion, enter much into general society, but were more frequently to be met with at the opera and other public places. However, visitors who were not of the creme de la creme of the beati monde, but merely la creme des honnetes gens, after having had, as they said, ' a good look at the royalties,' began to seek other amusements. * When would the fountains of Saint-Cloud play again ? ' some inquired. None could tell. They had last played on the 21st of March to greet the Emperor on his return. It was reported too, and found credence with many, that when the waters were then turned on they leaped from X 2 3o8 A HEARTRENDING SCENE. the fountains In a most unusual way, and with a sort of loud lonsf shriek that sounded to the ears of all present like * Vive I'empereur ! * The water had been turned on since to greet ' the Inevitable,' but the fountains obstinately refused to send forth a drop of it. The reason why, nobody knew, though perhaps many could give a good guess. But they were soon to be tried again, and a fete, or a fair, at Saint-Cloud was talked of. This was disappointing — for, confessedly, sightseers found a dearth of amusement. They had visited the encampments, and they some- times witnessed threatening collisions between French soldiers and foreign troops. They had probably taken the opportunity of seeing the plain of Waterloo, as depicted in an opera ballet, and a moving incident of the battle vigorously danced. A Highland regiment — chosen, of course, for the picturesque costume — and a detachment of the old French euard danced together in token of their deep sym- pathy with a lovely young lady whose betrothed had been slain In the ficrht — she meanwhile portraying the madness of despair in pirouettes and entrechats. Most English visitors doubtless had made 'JEANNE D'ARC: 309 a point of seeing Talma as Oreste in ' Andro- maque,' which he played when Kemble returned Talma's visit to England. The French traee- dian then gave a splendid supper, at which all the celebrities of the French stage, and the dlite of the artistic and dramatic world, were assem- bled to do honour to the great English actor. Of course they had also seen the play of 'Jeanne d'Arc,' in which their nation was so vigorously denounced, and the denunciations and political allusions as vigorously applauded. Lafond, who played Talbot, the English com- mander, is said to have greatly enjoyed the storm of wrath which his energetic performance brought down on the personage he represented ; the public — with whom he was a favourite — en- deavouring at the same time, by alternating ' A has Talbot ! ' with ' Vive Lafond ! ' to separate the actor from any share in it. 'Jeanne' was a great part with the tragic actress Mdlle. Duchesnoy — whose alarming ugliness startled those who saw her for the first time. But, like Lekain, her powerful acting overcame the dis- advantages of personal unattractiveness. She commanded attention from the moment she began to speak, and the entire sympathy of the audience soon followed. THALIA AND MELPOMENE. Then there was Mdlle. Mars, whose face was as beautiful as that of Mdlle. Duchesnoy was plain, and whose fame equalled that of the tragic lady in the higher walk of comedy. They were the Siddons and Jordan of the * French stage — the latter having a sort of political popularity superadded to her pro- fessional one, that of her amusingly persistent Bonapartism. As Louis XV III. was, of course, in his own opinion, one of the greatest wits of the day, as well as one of the most gallant of mankind, he was not displeased to hear of the spirittcelles saillies of a pretty woman. She was, however, sufficiently astute to re- frain from aiming her sometimes stinging coups dUpingle at the King ; she cast them at his surroundings, and this Louis did not object to, for amongst his many great qualities he possessed a fair share of malice. It was cus- tomary with his first breakfast, of coffee and fifteen cotelettes aii^jiis, to serve the daily dish of scandal and dons mots, diligently collected and invitingly prepared for him by his able chef the Minister of Police — who, by means of his numerous agents, may be said to have been ubiquitous so far as France was concerned. If from this dainty dish Louis chanced to pick out THE ROYALIST ACTRESS. any piquant jeu d' esprit aimed at the ultras of the Pavilion Marsan — with whom he and his favourite Minister were rarely in agreement — he took a secret pleasure in directing M. Decazes to see that it failed not to reach its address. But if Mdlle. Mars, in virtue of her wit and beauty, was allowed unmolested to proclaim herself a Bonapartist, Louis, who professed himself a lover of justice, determined on re- compensing the royalism of the pretty Mdlle. Bourgoin, a rival of the French Thalia — not, however, in talent or beauty, but only in the advantage she had of being a few years younger. Gout and obesity prevented Louis XVIII. from frequenting the theatres; but through the reports of his Minister of Police he knew all which that Minister chose he should know of the sayings and doings of actors and actresses, both public and private. Mdlle. Bourgoin, being reported devotedly royalist in her sentiments, and attractive in person, was accordingly summoned to appear in the royal presence ; and Louis put on the grand and gracious manner, so impressive, as he believed, and yet so encouraging to the timid and lower section of humanity, to receive REHEARSING A LOVE SCENE. the young lady when mysteriously introduced into his Majesty's private cabinet, or study. The first gentleman of the chamber placed a chair for her close to the King's, and remained in attendance ; but, by his royal master's order, with his back turned, and at a very respectful distance. Taking Mademoiselle's hand, he raised it to his lips. Then smiling on her with great be- nignity, and assuming an air of as much gallantry as was possible under the unfavourable circum- stances, ' Never,' he said, with much emphasis, ' until this day, have I so regretfully felt the weight of my twelve lustres.' Mademoiselle smiled, and bowed her thanks for the implied compliment, but appears not to have ventured on replying. The King then began to question her about the parts in which she was most successful, and even attempted to rehearse a scene with her — he taking the lover's part. Here her seriousness failed her. Louis' efforts to declaim the lanci'uaore of love in impassioned tones, instead of making the im- pression on the young lady it should have done, inspiring her with corresponding fervour, produced only an irrepressible fit of merry laughter. Notwithstanding this unmindful- A DOUBTFUL COMPLIMENT. 313 ness of the presence of the descendant of Saint Louis, the King paid her many compHments. Yet he was secretly vexed perhaps. For after having sufficiently, as it appeared to him, played the gallant, he put an end to the inter- view with the following quotation, which can scarcely be considered gracious or gallant ^ : * The best of company must part at last, said Dagobert to his dogs.' (' II n'est si bonne com- pagnie que ne se quitte enfin, disait Dagobert a ses chiens.') But on the following morning a very hand- some carriage drawn by a pair of fine bays drove up to the house where the lady resided. The first gentleman-in-waiting, who had been present at the interview with his back turned, stepped out of the carriage. He was the bearer of a complimentary message from his sacred Majesty to Mdlle. Bourgoin, with a re- quest that as a memento of their interview she would accept the present he sent her. It was the carriage and horses in which the king's messenger had arrived ; also an elegant dress- ing-case with fittings in silver gilt, together with a sum of 30,000 francs. This is considered to have been a soli tar)' ' Mdviob'cs dhin bourgeois dc Paris. 314 ' MUST HE, TOO, HA VE HIS MISTRESSES instance of gallantry and generosity on the part of Louis XVI 1 1, towards a popular actress ; though whether intended as a tri- bute to her beauty and talent, or to the very pronounced royalist sentiments she professed in opposition to those of the greater actress, does not appear. At all events, Mdlle. Bour- goin made no secret of the conquest she naturally supposed she had made on receipt of such valuable presents. She walked for some days with a statelier step, and assumed a more queenly air, as became a lady wooed by a king. And such a king ! ' Ce gros gouttenx ! and must he, too, have his mistresses ! ' exclaimed one of Mademoiselle's rejected lovers, as indignantly he resented the altered demeanour of the lady of his affections But, alas ! no first gentleman of the chamber was ever again despatched to carry presents and compliments to Mdlle. Bourgoin, or to sum- mon her to another interview with her royal lover. The belle Comtesse du Cayla had heard of the visit of the royalist actress, and had ventured on a little witty badinage at her next morning visit. Louis received it very kindly. He liked to be thought a terrible fellow where ladies' hearts were concerned. ' WHEN MERCY SEASONS JUSTICE: 315 But the lively countess conveyed the news to the austere duchess, who counted her beads, said a paternoster, and looked grave, very grave, by way of reproof, when next she saw that gay Lothario her royal uncle. But she neither looked grave nor reproach- fully when, at about the same time as he sent his presents to the pretty Mdlle. Bourgoin, he refused even to listen to a kneelinof woman's appeal for mercy. A pitying friend had brought the wife of General Mouton-Duvernet to the palace, vainly hoping that her heart- rending agony might move the King to commute the general's sentence, and to be satisfied with banishment. His great soul, however, disdains the weakness of tempering with mercy what to his warped mental vision looks like justice. When wheeled along the gallery his eye rests on the unwelcome vision of a suppliant, and he screams in his impotent rage, ' Take that woman away ! take her out of my sight ! ' But let us throw a veil over these hideous assassinations. Leave the widow and the orphan to mourn their dead, and let us away to the fcies with which these sanguinary scenes are so pleasantly varied. ' I speak o^/r/rs,' says a French writer (Jou)-), ' in the circumstances 3i6 SOMETHING ABOUT TO HAPPEN. in which we are now placed, because /^/^j- are given. And for those who undertake to depict the manners of the French, such a trait of character is of itself a picture.' But the fete of Saint-Cloud, with the fair and the fountains, to which both French and foreigners were looking forward with pleasing expectations, was not destined to take place. The King and his family and their partizans were afraid of the people. A superstitious feeling was gaining ground amongst them that something was about to happen that would drive 'the Inevitable' and his relatives out of the country, and with the month of March and the flowers of spring, again and for good, bring back Napoleon. Some people asserted that he had never left the country, but was concealed, with his son and his wife, in some remote chambers at Fontainebleau, awaiting the completion of his plans. Truly they who believed this could have known little of what was taking place in the world, and it appears they really did know very, very little beyond the fact that the nation was brought to the brink of ruin and was a^ain under the sway of a hated dynasty. Any story then, if it promised relief from the 'gros goutteux ' and taxation, if it did not exactly MADEMOISELLE GARNERIN. 317 obtain perfect credence, gave rise to hope that it might prove true. As the objections to a fete at Saint-Cloud grew more formidable in the royal eyes the more they were examined, a people's fete at Tivoll was substituted for it. There was to be a balloon ascent — a great attraction, rendered still more attractive by the fact of a young lady being the aeronaut ; this was Mdlle. Garnerin, whose father had revived Blanchard's idea of the parachute. She made the ascent from the Tivoli gardens in a balloon, to which a car with a parachute was attached. The cords were to be cut at a given signal, and the descent made with the parachute. The young lady was dressed — one is almost tempted to say inappropriately — in filmy white muslin, so that a fleecy cloud seemed to en- velop her almost ere she had fairly quitted terra firma for the region of clouds. A bunch of lilies in the bosom of her dress and a wreath of them on her head completed her aerial toilette. She carried in her hand a small white flag, which she waved to and fro as, amidst the acclamations of the thousands assembled to witness the ascent, she began to soar aloft. But she had not soared far — little more than a 3i8 AN ANXIOUS THRONG. hundred yards or so, though the height is described as ' prodigious ' — when the affrighted spectators became alarmed for her safety. They urged and entreated, as with anxious upturned eyes they watched her still ascending, a thin white cloud partly veiling her from view, that the signal (three rockets) for separating the car from the balloon should be sfiven. To ease the minds of the people this was done ; but, to their horror, the lady in the clouds heeded it not. Upward still she soared. The alarm became general. ' She must have fainted ! ' ' She is afraid to separate the car from the balloon ! ' cried some. ' Ah ! where will that infernal machine carry her ? ' screamed others. Suddenly she emerges from the mist that had momentarily concealed her from sight, and it is perceived that the cords are cut and her frail bark launched into space. A thrill of terror rushes through every breast ; a cry of alarm echoes through that anxiously upward- gazing throng. But at the same moment the parachute expands, and the intrepid young aeronaut very leisurely descends, so leisurely that she seems loth to quit the aerial regions, and to return to terra firma with regret. In the fulsome phraseology revived by the Restoration, says the French writer before HOPE TOLD A FLATTERING TALE. 319 named, ' his sacred Majesty most graciously deigned to reward the courageous Mademoiselle Garnerin by according her the high honour of a presentation to him,' He received her with his usual gracious senile simper, told her her beauty equalled her courage, did her the further immense favour of inflicting on her the penance of kissing his gouty green-gloved hand, and as she knelt to do so he quoted a line or two of Latin — probably in one sense untranslatable, as the quotations of this depraved-minded man addressed to ladies often were — then conde- scendingly waved her an adieu. However flattering this may have been to Mdlle. Garnerin, yet it appears she had hoped that her friends would rather have ob- tained for her a presentation to the Duchesse d'Angouleme. The duchesse, however, de- clined to receive her. ' She did not patronize such pursuits.' What, indeed, did she patron- ize ? — certainly not art or literature. She resembled her mother in that — also in being- no musician, though, unlike her, she forbore to exhibit her ' royally bad ' performances in public. The Duchesse d'Angouleme patronized only priestcraft, and art, so far as it was con- nected with the designing of embroidery for priestly vestments. MA TRIMONIAL PROPOSALS. CHAPTER XX. Matrimonial Proposals — Throwing the Handkerchief — The English Wife and Family — Preparing to receive the Bride — The Glorious 2nd of May — The Emperor and his Generals — Very sorry ; but it cannot be — Going to Prayers — ' Peace on earth and mercy mild' — The Saints and the Sinners — Dignity compromised — A Hue and Cry — A Fruitless Search — Madame de La Valette — The Gallant English Officers — ' Are you, then, athirst for his blood ?' IERY strenuous efforts had been made by Louis XVIII. while in exile to obtain a royal bride for the Due de Berry ; but the prospect of a Bourbon restora- tion seemed, until 181 2 or '13, so very unlikely an event that Louis' matrimonial proposals on his nephew's behalf were invariably declined. The European Courts were unwilling to give umbrage to Napoleon for the sake of an alliance that brought with it no sort of advantage, political or otherwise. The Due de Berry lived in exile a very dissipated life — as on returning to France he continued to do — squandering such small means THROWING THE HANDKERCHIEF. 321 as he possessed, and getting into debt as deeply as the tradespeople whom he honoured with his patronage allowed him. That he was already married in left-handed fashion would of course have been no obstacle to a royal marriage, had he otherwise been an eligible parti. But with Louis XVIII. on the throne of France, it became the duty of his younger nephew to perpetuate the royal line, and most of the European Courts then had a princess to offer. The double question of birth and religion disposed at once of the Russian alliance, though the duke was less punctilious on those points than his elders. Louis would have preferred the Princess Amelia of Saxony. ' She was worthy,' he said, ' to wear a crown — even the crown of France.' But unfortunately she was in delicate health. Austria offered an arch- duchess — a sister of Maria Louisa — a marriacre that would have made Berry the brother-in-law of the ' usurper.' From such a connexion the whole family naturally recoiled with [)ious horror, and the handkerchief at last fell at the feet of the Princess Marie Caroline of Naples. ' I know instinctivel)',' said the Kinc;-, ' that she will please France. She is a Bourbon, one VOL. I. Y 322 THE ENGLISH WIFE AND FAMILY. of ourselves, I choose her then as my second beloved niece. Without havino- seen her, I know that she has many excellent qualities, that she is graceful, charming-, talented, and devotedly attached to her ancient race.' This important preliminary settled, ' the great Blacas,' as M. de Jaucourt calls him, prepared his travelling- carriao^es and ao-ain set forth for Italy ; now to claim a bride, and to arrange the terms of a marriage instead of a con- cordat. He had but lately returned from Rome, when the King created him a duke. The Due de Berry meanwhile had his own private arrangements to see to. His English wife, Miss or Mrs. Amy Brown, was in Paris with his son and two daughters. He appears to have been very anxious about them, and doubtless they were amply provided for,' The public announcement of his approaching mar- riage was received with boundless joy by the I ' A paragraph in a London journal of very recent date men- tioned ihe death of Thomas Brown at Nantes, in his 78th year. [ It stated that 'he was one of the three children of the Due deJ Berry and an Enghsh woman named Amy lirown. The twol daughters were created countesses by Charles X., but he desired! that the son should be inscribed on the Civil Register, underl the name simply of Thomas Brown. Amply provided lor, as farl as worldly goods were concerned, he led a tranquil and retiredl life in a provincial town, never meddling in politics, or in anjj way courting notoriety.' PREPARING TO RECEIVE THE BRIDE. 323 royalists ; with expressions of discontent by the rest of the nation. There were complaints of the waste of the public money in the extravagance of the preparations, at a time, too, when the people were so heavily burdened with an oppressive war tax and the support of a foreign army. But murmurs and remonstrances of that kind were not likely to be heeded. The preparations to receive the bride in old r(^giine fashion both in Paris and at Fontainebleau were continued with much alacrity. Her household was appointed, magnificent presents of diamonds employed the Court jewellers, and the bridal carriages, lavishly ornamented, were nearly completed. The royal bridegroom's income of a million of francs was augmented ; and generally no expense was to be spared to celebrate the auspicious event with fitting splendour. The Parisians had therefore this consolation in the midst of their trouble- — and to many no doubt it sensibly diminished the burden — the certainty of a fortnight of unceasing gaiety and festivity. Balls, public and private, every night ; t/eneral illuminations ; free entrance to the theatres, with special appearance of the royal- Y 2 324 THE GLORIOUS SECOND OF MAY. ties ; picturesque scenes on the Seine, and tournaments in the gardens ; grand mihtary spectacles in the Champ de Mars, and reviews of troops, French and foreign. That the latter for so signal an occasion might, without any lacera- tion of their feelings as conquerors, be impressed into the service of the conquered was unanim- ously conceded by their commanders. Such, then, was a portion of the programme for the cele- bration of the forthcoming great national event. Of course, no day for the ceremony could then be precisely fixed. Preparations were making at Naples, with the leisurely speed of the Italians, for the despatch of the bride. The journey in those days was also an affair of time, especially for a princess whom a complimentary demonstration awaited at every town on her route. The King accordingly availed himself of this delay to allow his loving subjects to get up an ovation in his own honour — to celebrate, in fact, the glorious 2nd of May, the anniversary of his first entry into Paris. When this was arranged, Sir Robert Wilson, Colonel Hutchinson, and another officer were on their trial before the judges of the High Court of Justice for complicity in a plot against the State. In other words, they were arraigned THE EMPEROR AND HIS GENERALS. 325 for aiding in defrauding the guillotine of a victim — General de La Valette, condemned by the court of assizes to an ignominious death. Immediately on the flight of the King, the general (as already mentioned) resumed his former office of Director of the Posts, and telegraphed the news of the Emperor's return to all the departments of France. After the disastrous battle of Waterloo he and General de La Bedoyere, with other officers, accompanied Napoleon to Rochefort, where they would have embarked with him for America. Tw^o vessels had been placed at the Emperor's disposal by the provisional govern- ment. But the infamous Fouche, in close com- munication with the allies, saw in the conces- sion of these vessels the means of ensnaring their prey — for they seemed to shrink from actually laying hands on him. English ships blockaded the port ; to pass out, a safe- conduct was needed. It was applied for, but the Duke of Wellington refused it. When the Emperor went on board the English ship, La Bedoyere and La Valette were not permitted to embark with him. The former had already been judicially assassinated, and the latter, now escaped, sentenced to death before even he was arrested. 326 VERY SORRY J BUT IT CANNOT BE. He appeared before the court on the 20th of November ; his sentence being more ignominious than La Bedoyere's, because, in addition to ' plotting against the head of the State,' he was accused of ' usurpation of pubhc functions under the royal government.' The sentence was appealed against ; but the Court of Cassation confirmed it. The object, however, was to gain time, and during the month that intervened great efforts were vainly made to obtain a remission of the sentence of death. His own urgent request to the King was that, ' as a soldier who had served his country, he might be spared the disgrace of the guillotine, and his Majesty graciously order that he should be shot' The Court of Bavaria very persistently addressed the King in his favour, at which the amiable duchess was exceedingly indignant — Bavaria being but a second-rate, perhaps only a third-rate, power. The Emperor of Austria pleaded also, and made the remission of the general's sentence a personal favour to himself. Louis was very sorry, of course. But ' this man was not less guilty than Marshal Ney, General de La Bedoyere, and some others he named. He had not spared them. Justice must take its course.' GOING TO PRAYERS. ^'^j The general seems to have had troops of friends, and among them was Marshal Marmont, fiis treachery had been of so much service to the Bourbon cause that he might surely claim to be heard when he pleaded. The Duchesse d'Angouleme had positively refused to receive the Comtesse de La Valette, and orders were given to attendants not to admit her to the palace. Marmont nevertheless accompanied her thither. She passed in with him, and was placed in the gallery through which the duchess went to the chapel to hear mass. She wore deep mourning ; and as the duchess approached she knelt before her, sobbing, but unable to utter a word. Marmont stood beside her. He states that the duchess, with a move- ment of impatience, on seeing Madame de La Valette, momentarily turned towards her ; but with a look expressive of more intense hatred and diss^ust than he could have believed a human countenance capable of assuming. He says he was startled by it. She then passed on, to say her prayers — to thank God probably that she was not so weak as other women were, or even as some men. Intercession then was useless. ' An example is necessary,' said the Pavilion Marsan coterie, as though no other blood had been shed. 328 'PEACE ON EARTH AND MERCY MILD: The execution was to take place on Christ- mas Day ! — a worthy celebration, certainly, of the festival of peace on earth and goodwill towards all men. At about four o'clock on Christmas eve, just when a cold and cheerless day was closing in, and the gloomy shadows of night were gathering over dimly lighted Paris, Madame de La Valette, accompanied by her daughter, a girl of twelve years, and a female servant, arrived In a sedan chair, as she had done on previous occasions, at the prison of the Conciergerie. She was much wrapped up in furs, and wore the large flapping hat which the English ladies had introduced, and, besides, was thickly veiled. She and her daughter were admitted to the prisoner's cell ; and, as husband and wife were to take their final leave of each other, they were left with their child alone for awhile — the servant remaining at the door. Shortly after, she leaves the prison sobbing violently, her veil and her handkerchief con- cealing her face, and scarcely prevented from falling, though supported on either side by her servant and child. The gaolers are moved to pity. The turnkey waits a few minutes ere he returns to his prisoner, to allow him to over- THE SAINTS AND THE ShWNERS. 329 come the state of emotion in which, after such a parting, he expects to find him. But on opening- the door of his cell, what is his amazement — real or feigned (for one or more must have been in the secret) — Madame de La Valette stands, transfixed as it were, before him. She wears her husband's clothing, but offers no explanation. She is motionless, silent, rigid ; her eyes, with a stony stare of terror, gazing on the door. Her reason is gone, poor victim ! A hue and cry is immediately raised. What a commotion it creates at the Tuileries among the pious, who are at their Christmas eve devotions, when, like a thunderbolt in their ears, comes the announcement : ' General de La Valette has escaped!' Louis XVIII. and his chere ainie, en tete-a-tete^ are discussing the forthcoming marriage. ' Again, then,' says the fair countess, * the now dreary salons of the Tuileries are to resound with mirth and laughter ! ' And the King replies that all balls, concerts, theatricals, and other gaieties of the revived Court will belong to the department of the future young Duchesse de Berr)'. He is all or-Qod humour tliis evenincr, full of tlie milk of human kindness. He has resolved that, until the marriage festivities are ended, there 330 DIGNITY COMPROMISED. shall be no more executions after La Valette's head has fallen. He feels as benignant as if he had granted another general amnesty. He has just placed an ample pinch of snuff", as is customary with him, on the countess's ivory shoulder, whence he removes it in sundry small pinches, or, occasionally leaning towards her, inhales it. At that moment, with an unceremoniousness unusual with him, and, indeed, never permitted by his royal master, M. Decazes enters the apartment. He has an affrio-hted air. The Kino^ looks dao-g-ers. The countess affects the superb and shakes the snuff from her shoulder, which makes the King sneeze and greatly compromises his dignity. M. Decazes is now Comte Decazes. The Kingf is lookinof out for a suitable wife for him. He has a fine estate or two, possesses his Majesty's full confidence, and by-and-by he will be Due Decazes. Still there are times and seasons, as he knows, when even he must not intrude. And for the world he would not do so. 'But' — he is beginning to apologize, when the King, perceiving the pallor of his countenance, relents. ' Mon enfant' he says (he now always addresses Decazes as ' my child,' or ' my dear A HUE AND CRY. 351 child') — ' 7J1071 enfant, what has happened to bring you here at this hour ? ' ' Sire, General de La Valette has escaped,' he exclaims, in[a tone that seems to say, ' Pray pardon me' — for he is Minister of Police, be it remembered. ' General de La Valette escaped ! ' echoes Louis, and re-echoes Madame du Cayla. M. Decazes then relates particulars, and adds that the telegraph has been set to work, a watch placed at all the barriers, and orders issued to search the houses of the general's friends. The King commends his favourite's zeal, and M. Decazes departs, to take such further steps to trace or retake the criminal as may in his wisdom seem good. No sooner had the door closed on M. De- cazes than the countess began, ' If Fouche had been Minister of P ' The Kinof raised his hand deprecatingl)-. ' Madame,' he said, * has her department, the Minister of Police has his — and both fulfil their duties admirabl)'.' Madame was about to insist that M. Decazes was a Jacobin, and probabl)- a party to the general's escape ; that he alienated the affections of the royalists from their sovereign, and that the sovereign himself seemed inclined to pass 332 A FRUITLESS SEARCH. over to the enemy's camp. But the King began to doze. Their interview had lasted longer than usual. When, therefore, he again for a moment opened his drowsy eyes, his fair friend wished him a good night and pleasant dreams ; then withdrew to ascertain how the Comte d'Artois and the duchess bore their disappointment. The measures taken by M. Decazes for La Valette's rearrest proved utterly un- availing. Wherever the telegraph announced his escape, acclamations and vivas attested the delight of the people. The joy was as general as when, using the telegraph himself, he sent the news of the Emperor's arrival to every part of France. But he was still in Paris. On leaving the prison a carriage awaited him on the quay. It was driven by a lady, disguised, the Princess de Vaudemont, who conducted him to a place of safety and concealed him until he could cross the frontier. Several times her house was searched, but as vainly as the houses of other friends. Yet the disguise he escaped in was burnt there, and through her influence he was conveyed to the frontier of Holland by Sir Robert Wilson, Captain Hutchinson, and another officer, to all of whom he was a stranger. MADAME DE LA VALETTE. -^^y. General de La Valette wore the uniform of an English quarter-master-general when the above-named officers openly drove him through Paris. He was indebted to the princess for the carr^ang out of the skilfully arranged plot to which he owed his escape. She had so thoroughly taken her precautions that the only failure feared was in the important part assigned to his wife. She herself doubted that she would have sufficient nerve to carry her through it. At first she hesitated to undertake it ; then refused. But the sterner-minded princess pre- vailed, by showing her that it was her duty, and almost commandino- her to do it — leaving the rest to her. Madame de La Valette never recovered from the shock her reason sustained under the excessive terror she experienced while contri- buting to her husband's escape. It is owing to this melancholy circumstance probably that the general (in his Memoirs) has ascribed to his wife the sole credit of saving him from an ignominious end. Perhaps, too, the princess might not have desired that the active part she took in the plot should be openly avowed. Its perfect success, however, boldl)- and skilfully as she laid her plans, reall}- depended on Madame 334 THE GALLANT ENGLISH OFFICERS. de La Valette, who nerved herself to do what from natural tunidity she shrank from, and became so sadly the victim instead of a parti- cipator in the joy of its happy results. On leaving France, General de La Valette retired to Bavaria, and after five years of this self- banishment was pardoned. The trial of his three English deliverers naturally excited great general interest. The court was filled with ladies. Lady Grantham, the Marchioness of Conyngham, Lady Francis Cole, the Countess of Glengall, and many of the dlite of the English circle, were present; and amongst other notabilities, Madame Jerome Bonaparte (Mrs. or Miss Paterson). She is described as being then very pretty, not particu- larly graceful ; more lively than, considering her position, some persons thought she ought to be, and with manners trcs prononcdes, which rather shocked the shy English ladies of that day. The gallant Sir Robert — who had a spice of romance in his character — was acquitted, with, of course, his equally gallant companions. The procureur-g^neral, says a writer of the time, with all his rabid eloquence, failed to impart to an act of humanity the semblance of a capital crime. But they were ordered to pay the 'ARE YOU, THEN, ATHIRST FOR HIS BLOOD ?' 335 expenses o( t\\& pi^occs, and some accounts state that they were under arrest for three months for breach of miHtary discipHne. The King- not only affected cheerfully to accept the result of the trial, but declared that the English officers had really done him a service, by releasing him from the embarrassing position in which he was placed towards those of his allies who had solicited the guilty general's pardon. ' La Valette had escaped, and he was glad of it' He even gave countenance to the rumour, set afloat by ' royalists more royalist than the King,' that he and his Minister of Police facilitated the escape. Yet they did not fail to dismiss and severely punish the head gaoler. The Duchesse d'Angouleme was so vehe- ment in the expression of her rage at the escape of the prisoner, and her intense dissatis- faction with the result of the trial of its abettors, that Louis XVIII., who certainly could not be called a humane man, thus sternly checked his wrathful niece, ' Are you, then, athirst for his blood .? ' JJ'- THE MEMORABLE EVENT. CHAPTER XXI. The Memorable Event — ' Tc Dcinn, madame, in all the churches ^ — ' What, alas ! will this lead to ? ' — The Wedding Garments — A Painful Doubt — Awaiting the Bride — Curiosity banish- ing Etiquette — To the manner born — The Grand-master's Programme — A General Sensation — Distressingly Hilarious — The General Harmony Menaced — A Pretty Speech — The Marriage fetes — The Young Duchesse de Berry — The Duchess's Dressing-room — The Duchess and Her Dog. ERHAPS the people were put into L_ V/ni good humour by the report, ema- '^'^ ^ ~ nating, as supposed, from the uhra- royahsts to rouse the less ardent of their party, that the King, led astray by his favourite, the Minister of Police, was fast degenerating into liberalism. The Minister, through his numerous staff of secret agents, may have circulated this report. A little popularity for himself and a semblance of enthusiasm for the Kino- were needed for the due celebration of the anniversary of the return of * the Inevitable' to his lonoingf people on the memorable 2nd of May. ' How could it otherwise have happened,' asks a cynical 'TEDEUM, MADAME, IN ALL THE CHURCHES: 337 writer, ' that so many of the people to com- memorate that unhappy event devoted the livelong day to pleasure, instead of fasting in sackcloth and ashes ? ' However, so it hap- pened — and from the break of dawn, when a hundred oruns announced the birth of the auspicious day, Paris was a scene, if not of pleasure, at least of noisy revelry. Louis him- self was satisfied, and his Minister equally so. But at the daily interview Louis learned from the countess that the immaculates of the Pavilion Marsan were far from being satisfied. 'What,' he inquired, 'are their reasons, madame ? ' ' Sire, an illustrious lady and her uncle think that the day should have been marked by more solemnity.' * Madame, I beg to remind you of the Tc Dewn in all the churches ; also at the royal chapel, which a little gout that sometimes troubles me did not allow me to attend. Her royal highness and my august brother and nephews doubtless did so. And yourself, madame ? ' ' Oh, certainly, sire. I am, as your Majesty knows, a royalist.' ' And the King, madame ? ' VOL. I. Z 338 'WHAT, ALAS/ WILL THIS LEAD TO?' 00 ' Ah, sire ! ' ' The King is a Jacobin, is not he, ma- dame ? ' 'Sire, I should not dare to use that term, though there are bold tongues that do not shrink from it ; and if I may venture, without offending your Majesty, to repeat what is said in pure royalist circles, it is asked, " What, alas ! will this lead to ? " ' Louis was a little offended. But although, as he said, this lady and he had frequent quarrels — she affecting ultra principles, while, in fact, she was a liberal — yet her soft, insinuating voice and the charm of her gentle manners had so soothino- an effect on him that his answer with her was very different from that which he felt when other people provoked him. To her remark, ' What, alas ! will this lead to ? ' he replied : — ' Madame, the festive occasion we first were speaking of will lead to another of equal im- portance. The /d/es and national rejoicings will, however, be of longer duration. The Court and the people will participate in them ; and none, I firmly believe, madame, will find more enjoyment -in them than yourself.' The lady smiled on her royal c/ic7^ ami, and bowed THE WEDDING GARMENTS. 339 her assent to his words. For it was she who had urged him to revive the gaieties of the old Court of France, as the young noblesse were dying of eujiui. The embroidery designs for the coat which the King had ordered, to do honour to the royal marriage, were submitted to her for approval before they were put in hand. The coat was of velvet, bleu dtt roi, his favourite colour, embroidered in white silk mixed with seed pearls. A pair of half boots of velvet — colour not named — lightly embroidered, were also prepared for the occasion. The famous * Regent' diamond, which had glittered for twelve years in Napoleon's sword-hilt, was now transferred to Louis' new plumed hat ; and the somewhat less lustrous ' Sancy,' which the Emperor occasionally wore in his hat, now decorated the King's sword. These, and some ample garments of white satin with diamond buckles, were all prepared and packed for early despatch to Fontainebleau, and Louis flattered himself that when arrayed in his wedding suit he should far outshine all the rest of the company. The Princess Marie Caroline Ferdinande was married by proxy at Naples, in that same palace z 2 340 A PAINFUL DOUBT. where, but a twelvemonth before, the unfortu- nate Joachim Murat reigned. The Due de Blacas-d'Aulps represented the bridegroom. On the 30th of May the princess landed at Mar- seilles, and was received by the Due d'Avray, the Duchesse de Regglo, and two other ladies. Etiquette did not permit the Due de Berry to proceed thither in person. He, however, had the gallantry to be anxious to go to Naples and bring the bride thence to France himself ; and he wrote to the princess to express his regret that he could not do so, being of course com- pelled, as he said, to submit to the decrees of their elders. However, what was denied to the bridegroom was permitted to a party of the younger noblesse, who accompanied the ladies of the household to Marseilles to escort the princess thence to Fontainebleau. The duke was rather painfully doubtful of the effect his personal appearance and twent)'' years of seniority might have on a lively young lady of eighteen. He expressed as much in his letters, and spoke rather disparagingly of his personal endowments. In her replies she seemed desirous of putting him at ease on that matter ; but she reproves him for writing too hastily, and says that, * greatly delighted though DUCHESSE DE BERRI. AWAITING THE BRIDE. 341 she was to read his letters, he had caused that pleasure to be delayed by the necessity she was under of studying his writing before she could read it. She hopes he will not think, because she mentions it, that she is difficult to please and inclined to scold, but his writing was not very legible, such was the fact.' Royalist accounts speak of the splendour with which, in all its details, this marriage was celebrated, as surpassing all preceding ones. Probably the marriage of Napoleon and Maria Louisa would not be included by a Bourbonite in the category of royal marriages ; but there is no doubt that it far exceeded the Due de Berry's in magnificence. In both instances the ceremonial observed was as nearly as possible the same as when Marie Leczinska was married to Louis XV., and Marie Antoinette to the dauphin, afterwards Louis XVI. Two richly tapestried and decorated tents were erected in the forest. The royal family and attendant grand diornitaries assembled in one of them to await the arrival of the bride. Louis meanwhile, arrayed in his wedding gar- ments and reposing in his easy chair, received the compliments of all present on the richness, yet chaste and elegant simplicity, of his dress, 342 CURIOSITY BANISHING ETIQUETTE. its exquisite taste, and extreme becomingness. He glanced at the countess, who was present^ though she held no appointment in the new royal household. She was there because his sacred Majesty willed it. And exceedingly handsome she looked in her rich dress of rose Dii Barry brocade, antique point lace, and pearls, Louis admired her almost as much as he admired himself. But list ! They hear the sound of coaches. It is the rumbling of the capacious and highly ornamented state carriages in which the young princess and her retinue travel the last stage of their journey. What a commotion her entry oc- casions amongst this pompous assemblage, who,, in their eagerness to gratify curiosity, forget for the moment all the grand manners and formal etiquette observed on such courtly occasions. ' We allowed our hearts to play their part in the bride's reception,' says the Due de Doudeauville, speaking in the name of Louis XVIII. But whether the sudden and unexpected departure from the prescribed forms was to be attributed to sentiment or curiosity, the utter upset of his very precise arrangements greatly chagrined the Marquis de Dreux-Breze, grand-master of the ceremonies. TO THE MANNER BORN. 343 The Comte de Segur, who filled the same post of honour during the Empire, and, to Louis' amazement and indignation, applied to be re- instated in it when the restoration took place, had made some strange mistakes, it appears, when reviving the old rdgime etiquette in the imperial salons. But here was a grand-master born to the manner of these old-world ways, and fondly cherishing them as having their part in the halo of glory that illumined the throne of the Bourbon monarchy. In his great zeal he had personally superintended every detail of the ceremony of the reception. He had given explanations to the less well-informed when requested, and had taken the trouble to have the attendants thoroughly rehearsed in the duties which on this special occasion devolved on them. The reward he naturally sought was that all should go smoothly, from scene the first to the end. The bride, being a Bourbon, had been well initiated in the theory of the right divine, its sacred privileges, c:\:c., and in that respect she was staunch. But she was young and lively, and the restraints of etiquette bored her ex- ceedingly. Before leaving Naples she had been thoroughly admonished, in order to tone down 344 THE GRAND-MASTER'S PROGRAMME. her rather exuberant spirits to a point of gravity- consistent with the responsible position of a possible queen of France and the probable mother of its king. Everywhere on her journey from Marseilles — which occupied a fortnight — she had met with a sympathetic welcome ; and the honours that were paid her she received with a sort of gracious gaiety, which, while expressing her own delight, delighted others. M. cle Breze had forwarded to Marseilles, for the information of the ladies of honour, a programme of the ceremonial of the bride's reception. On looking it over they agreed that it would be advisable to school the princess a little in the part she had to play in it. She might otherwise bend or bow, or kneel or partly kneel, at the wrong time, and be raised or partly raised, or paternally blessed, by the wrong persons. When the cortege arrived at the Cross of St. Herem, and her carriage drew up at the entrance of the tent of honour, the princess's countenance was perceived to be slightly serious. She was seized with doubts of her ability to walk with a slow and dignified mcmiet-de-la-coMr sort of step to the centre of the tent, where somebody would be waiting to conduct her to A GENERAL SENSATION. 345 somebody else. But no sooner was the carriage door opened, than, giving up her onerous duties apparently altogether, the fair young bride jumped lightly out, and, unmindful of the bowing, cringing groups in attendance around her, tripped into the tent unattended. This unexpected and unceremonious appearance of the sprightly ingdniie caused a general sensation. The bridegroom, by an irresistible impulse, it seems, sprang forward to meet her, seized her hand, and kissed it. Thus terrible confu- sion ensued ; all the parts were changed, and M. de Breze was ready to sink into the earth with shame and vexation. It was the Comte d'Artois who should have advanced with a dignified step and air, not have rushed or sprung forward, to meet and welcome the young lady and conduct her to the King ; before whom she should have kneeled. His Majesty should have graciously raised her, or, gout not permitting, have bidden her raise herself, embraced her, and delivered her up with a blessing to the Due de Berry. In his turn he should have presented his bride to the Due and Duchesse d'Angouleme ; while others present, according to their several degrees of rank, should have craved the honour of paying 346 DISTRESSINGLY HILARIOUS. their homage and laying themselves at her feet. Much more than this, and no less impressive in character, was of course set down in the pro- gramme. But when the heart, as the King said, claimed to share in it, there was an end to all courtly proceedings, and the whole affair was conducted with a sort of bourgeois hilarity dis- tressing to witness in so august an assembly. The gay young princess had imparted a little of her own airy spirits to the prosy elderly circle, and all were delighted. Even the austere countenance of the Duchesse d'Angouleme relaxed into the shadow of a smile. The Due de Berry thought his bride charming, and, says the King — with his accustomed gallantry — he was not the only one of the family of that opinion. A grand banquet was in course of prepara- tion in the adjoining tent. But when about to repair to it, the princess was near spoiling his Majesty's appetite, and throwing a gloom over the spirits of some others of the royal party whom her bright presence had made so un- wontedly gay. She suddenly expressed her surprise and disappointment at the absence of her uncle and aunt d'Orleans. By the startled countenances of those around her, she perceived THE GENERAL HARMONY MENACED. 347 there was some indiscretion in her remark, though she knew not what it was. But as none ventured to reply to it, the King- himself answered : ' My dear child, his serene highness ' (he was fond of emphasizing that word) ' and family are now in England.' The King intended his reply to be a full and final one to her question, and the princess was sufficiently acute and clever, for the time being, so to receive it. Thus the menaced interruption to the general harmony was warded off; and as Louis proceeded with his dinner — which It appears was a long protracted, elaborate, and highly satisfactory one — the unwelcome image of the intrleuinor and mistrusted Due d'Orleans gradually faded from his mental vision. No receptions took place at the palace of Fontainebleau. That splendid royal resid- ence, where both royal and imperial Courts had given such magnificent fetes, such grand hunt- ing parties, and/^/^j- champetres, In the woods, seemed to be avoided by the Bourbons. They shrank from it as though they shared the popular delusion that a Napoleon II. was growing up in some remote corner of that princely dwelling ; and for many a )ear to come no royal visitor entered it. The most 348 A PRETTY SPEECH. meagre preparations only were made for resting beneath its roof a few hours, the day being too far advanced to return to Paris on the 14th. Early on the morrow, the royal party were on their way to the capital. The Comte de Chabrol, Prefect of the Seine, with the municipal authorities, was of course in waiting at the city gates to welcome the bride, to harangue the King, and generally to compliment and render homage in the name of the city of Paris. ' M. le Prefet,' replied the King, 'you see me return accompanied by my children. You well know my paternal heart, and will therefore readily comprehend my happiness. To see that my faithful subjects participate in it gratifies me exceedingly.' On the 17th the marriage was solemnized at Notre-Dame with wondrous pomp — the number of crowned heads and other royal personages who attended it giving exceptional ^clat to this ceremony, for which a musical mass, said to have been extremely impressive, was specially composed. Neither pains nor expense were spared to secure the acclamations of the fickle Parisians ; and little difficulty was there in accomplishing this object. For, though one day bitterly complaining of burdensome taxa- THE MARRIAGE F&TES. 349 tion, of the Ignominious presence in their midst of a foreign army — far, very far, outnumbering their own — and of many things besides which displeased them, chief among which was * the Inevitable ' and his family ; the next, pro- claim but a fete, an illumination, a gorgeous procession (if it was not an ecclesiastical one), a Tivoli ball, a balloon or two, or special theatrical representation, and all was changed. When the procession of the bride and bride- groom passed through Paris, it was who should cry the loudest. 'Vive Henri IV.' and * Charmante Gabrielle ' saluted them every- whei'e. One would have thought they were that celebrated pair of lovers in person. All who had any tapestry decorated with it the fronts of their houses ; those who had non« hung out their curtains and carpets ; and when at nieht the g^eneral illumination made Paris all aglow with colour from the refulgent rays of myriads of many-coloured lamps, enthusiasm reached its highest pitch. Gathering in one vast crowd before and around the Tuileries, which was brilliantly ligiited up, they vied with each other in raving their vivas for the King, for Madame la Duchesse and ]\I. le Due de Berry. 3 so THE YOUNG DUCHESSE DE BERRY. This, however, was a breach of etiquette. So near the royal palace they should have been content to gaze in ecstatic joy, to wave their hats, their handkerchiefs, or to express their feelings less noisily. It was on the present occasion inconveniently overwhelming, and was about to be suppressed, when the King, who thought it more prudent to encourage than to check sounds so unwonted, declared it to be his bo7i plaisir that the delirious joy of his faithful lieges should not be interrupted. ' It is their hearts that speak,' he said ; ' and mine excuses them.' The newly married Duchesse de Berry was by no means beautiful. Though she was in her eighteenth year, her appearance and manners were those of a girl of fifteen. But she had a pleasing expression, an engaging smile, and merry laugh. She was of medium height, and her fiofure sligflit and Q^raceful. Her education had been much neglected ; but this and the girlish petulance she at times exhibited were counterbalanced by her desire to cultivate the talents she possessed and to patronize the arts, and by her affability and the gaiety of her southern temperament. She was passionately fond of pleasure. The Court was therefore THE DUCHESS'S DRESSING-ROOM. 351 delighted with her, both the old and the new noblesse] yet at first they regarded her more as a charming spoiled child than as a leader of the Court society. So much of a child was she that some ingenious toys were made expressly to amuse her. The furniture of her dressing-room was also of a fanciful kind — the toilet-table, glass, and chair being all mounted in diamond-cut crystal, and having some concealed mechanism attached to them, which when wound up played two tunes each, for her amusement, probably, while dressing. On returning to the palace of the Elysee — the Due de Berry's residence — after the ceremony at Notre- Dame, it being supposed she must feel both fatigued and agitated, she was left for a while in her apart- ment alone, that she might rest and recover composure. Time — more than sufficient for this purpose, it was thought — having elapsed, the Due de Berry ventured to take advantage of his newly acquired privileges to enter the young bride's apartment. His astonishment was great indeed when he beheld his petite dtichesse still wc'aring her grand Court costume of white brocade embroidered in silver and diamonds, plumes on 352 THE DUCHESS AND HER DOG. her head, and diamond coronet. Her train, which was six yards in length, and had been borne by six ladies of distinction — there being then a scarcity of royal princesses at the Court of France — was twisted several times round her arm ; while she, humming a lively tune, was dancing gaily round the chairs and tables with a pet spaniel she had brought from Naples, and which she was holding up by his forepaws.^ ' Private letters of 1816. MADAME ROY ALE. 353 CHAPTER XXII. Madame Royale — The Picture of a Saint — I\Iadame Roj'ale's Homilies — The Duke appeals to his Father — The Princess Bagration — Donizetti — Lord Byron — An Affront to M. de Chateaubriand — Dissentient Opinions — Pretenders to the Throne — ' Let him stay where he is ' — ' Let the King in his wisdom decide ' — ' Let this pen be kept.' Q^g^ADAME la Duchesse de Berry be- ^ ' gan very soon to tire of her toys, and to prefer dancing at fancy balls to dancing with her dogs. The Duchesse d'Angouleme's title of Madame Royale was, however, now more than hitherto insisted on at Court ; probably to mark that her place there was above that of the aspiring young lady who sought to grasp the sceptre of queen of the revels and of La Mode. The royal sisters-in-law were compared to Madame de Maintenon and the lively young Duchesse de Bourgogne, the mother of Louis XV. It was a comparison rather disparaging to the lady whose enemies gave her the sobriquet of the VOL. L A A 354 THE PICTURE OF A SAINT. ' fatisse prude', for if she did not always approve of the duchess's escapades, she was much more tolerant of them, and often threw a veil over indiscretions which needed more veilinof than those of the Duchesse de Berry. Madame Royale had smiled almost benig- nantly at Fontainebleau on the girlish bride, whose youthful appearance was heightened by abundance of beautiful fair hair flowingf in natural curls over her shoulders. She believed she saw in her a future saint — a child of plastic nature, to be moulded by her own and able Jesuit hands into a bright example of piety to the younger nobility. They, too generally well disposed, as she perceived with pain, towards a renewal of the gaieties which she would repress, strove earnestly for emancipation from the restraints of the formal etiquette of the old Court which, with priestly rule, it was her aim to revive. She was rather disconcerted, yet not w^holly discouraged, by the ill-success of her first attempts to check the disposition which the young duchess soon evinced to delight in the pomps and vanities of the world. Paris had not been so generally devoted to pleasure and dissipation for many a day as during the month MADAME ROY ALE'S HOMILIES. 355 following the royal marriage. This was an evil for which there was no remedy ; but, the nuptial festivities ended, Madame looked forward to exhorting, admonishing, and reproving with better effect. Inviting the duchess into her oratory, that the lesson, aided by its solemn surroundings, might be more impressive, Madame began to talk in serious tones of the evanescence of earthly pleasures. Pointing to more enduring ones, she urged her to pursue the path that led to them — keeping ever in view the promised reward, a heavenly crown, and fleeing, as she would fly for her life, those pleasures of sense that wrought the soul's perdition. This, with very much more of warning to flee from the wrath to come, was — with the best Intentions, no doubt — pressed on the un- willing ear of the pleasure-loving Duchesse de Berry whenever opportunity occurred. But this was not often ; for she was intent on enjoying the pleasures of the passing hour, and cared not to be saddened by her severe sister-in-law's homilies. They were to her, as the bigotry of the duchess was to ladies of the Court generally, a sort of wet blanket, whose unpleasant contact ^ Private letters of i8i6 and 1S17. A A 2 356 THE DUKE APPEALS TO HIS FATHER. she resolved to avoid — therefore complained to her husband. He, who approved all she did, and had modified to a great extent the dissipated life he led before his marriage, in order to devote himself to his charming bride and to share her tastes and amusements, was immensely annoyed that so perfect a little woman should be so harshly, as he considered, taken to task — so he appealed to his father. The reformed roue, like many others of the dreary Court, had fallen under the spell of the light-hearted Italian girl, so soon become as thoroughly Parisian as though her adopted country were her native one. This, to many, was not the least of either her charms or her merits, and, being purposely made public, secured her much popularity. The Comte d'Artois, therefore, though not disposed to reprove the young duchess for taking the initiative in the organization of Court balls, concerts, &c., as Madame Royale neglected to do so, yet felt bound to join the latter in a word of admonition concerning the Jldneric of both duchess and duke. This gay pair, between whom there appears to have been a stron^r attachment as well as sympathy in their tastes, rambled about Paris THE PRINCESS BAG RATION. 357 together ; visited the ateliers of the painters in vogue — Gerard, Girodet, the Vernets, &c. — quite in bourgeois fashion. Sometimes they went out on foot, at others in a tiny open carriage driven by the duke, but always unattended. They also frequented the salons, of which two or three were reopened about the time of the marriage ; but desiring always that they might not be troubled by any restraints of etiquette — that was to be reserved for formal state occasions. At the rdintions of the Russian princess Bagration they were frequently met with. The princess was the wife of the Russian field-marshal of that name, and was then a very beautiful woman. She was one of the most brilliant stars of the constellation of beauties that had shone at Vienna when the sovereigns and princes of Europe were assem- bled there, ' amusing themselves en vacances' as the Prince de Ligne said of the royal per- sonages jat the Congress. The Emperor Alexander, when, as some- times had happened,^ he was faithless to mysti- ' In the autumn of 181 5, when the Treaty of the Holy Alliance had been proposed and signed. ' Prince Mcttcrnich has been suspected of imagining this league offensive and de- fensive of the sovereigns against the people, he being the oracle whose lessons Madame de Kriidcncr repeated and covered with 358 DONIZETTI. cism and Madame de Kriidener, might not unfrequently be found in the splendid salons of the Hotel Baoration in the rue Mont Blanc (Chaussee d'Antin). But not only emperors, kings, and princes, distinguished generals,, diplomatists, and statesmen were attracted thither by the charms of the gracious and graceful hostess ; the cordial welcome that awaited the dlite of the literary and artistic world drew poets, painters, and musicians, and every writer of any eminence, to her receptions. It was there that the talent of the young Italian composer and pianiste, Donizetti, was first made known to aristocratic Paris. Doni- zetti had just arrived from Italy, recommended to the princess, which was more fortunate for him than if he had been recommended to the patronage of the Court. He was then scarce twenty years of age, and exceedingly handsome. ' His smile,' said the Comtesse de Bassanville, ' is that of hope, and the expression of his eyes reveals genius. His voice is divine ; he sings a veil of vague and mystic language.' Yet it was written in pencil wholly by Alexander, and revised by Madame de Kriidener, who gave it its name of the ' Sainte Alliance.' The fit of tran- sitory enthusiasm to which she owed her influence over the emperor gradually died out after leaving Paris. LORD BYRON. 359 as they sing in heaven ; and he is so good and so amiable that none can know him and fail to love him.' The Princess Bagration had good reason to be proud of her protdgd, for he was a protdgd whose brilliant talent needed no patron. But she presented il Signor Gaetano Donizetti to all her friends, predicting as she did so that the future composer of ' Lucia di Lammermoor,' * Lucrezia Borgia,' ' La Favorita,' ' La Fille du Regiment,' &c., would surely become a great artiste ; and a great artiste he became. But, alas ! this youth, so full of genius, and destined to achieve honours, wealth, and fame, was destined also to lose the light of reason, and at a comparatively early age to end his days in a madhouse. Amonof Ens^llsh visitors of distinction and literary fame who assiduously visited at the Hotel Bagration at this time (18 16 and 1817) Lord Byron may be named, though he does not appear to have been a favourite either in English or foreign society. The French thought him ' cold and haughty, wrapped up in self, often assuming for effect an inspired air ; and if perchance a few civil words escaped lu's mocking lips, appearing to expect that the for- 36o AN AFFRONT TO M. DE CHAtEAUBRIAND. tunate individual to whom they were addressed should be overwhelmed with delight at the honour done him.' It was, however, admitted that, although lame, his lameness was not un- graceful, and that he might have been a charming cavalier had he but condescended to be one. M. de Chateaubriand, in his amazing vanity, was jealous beyond measure of the poet. Any praise bestowed on his works irritated him greatly ; for he considered it as depriving him of a portion of his fame to bestow it on a writer unworthy to be ranked with the author of the * Genie du Christianisme.' Byron, however, ■\j^as but one among many whose fame dis- pleased M. de Chateaubriand, and was resented by him as though it were a personal affront. But it was especially at the soirees intimes that the Due and Duchesse de Berry were allowed to enjoy themselves as simple mortals. It was necessary, however, that the jorincess should issue a stringent order that her royal guests were not to be recognized ; otherwise some among those who sought the privilege of beinof admitted would doubtless have availed themselves of an opportunity of falling at their feet and worshipping. This might have pleased Madame Royale ; but the aim of the younger DISSENTIENT OPINIONS. 361 lady was not to inspire the faithful with awe by her presence, but to receive every one graciously, and when she departed to leave a trace of joyousness behind her ; and this she contrived to do in a perfectly natural manner, being amiable, charitable, and conciliatory. But, although she won golden opinions from all conditions and parties — some of the factions into which the community was divided be- ginning to fancy that the duke, her husband, the modern Henri IV., guided b}- so wise and winsome a Gabrielle, might make a tolerable king — the Pavilion Marsan was sorel}^ grieved, sorely displeased, at the undignified proceedings of the Elysee Bourbon. Serious dissensions were frequent in the family. The King de- clared that discord now troubled him more than his gout. But he had the wisdom to approve of the pursuits of the younger duchess, whose fondness for theatres, concerts, balls, and plays he thought only natural at her age, and far more commendable than the discussion of politics. ' It has been proved to mc,' he said, ' that to the women and their politics I owe at least two-thirds of my adversaries ! Madame la Duchesse de Berry does not meddle with ^62 PRETENDERS TO THE THRONE. politics ; she has chosen the better part. Let her then continue to amuse herself.' Louis XVI I L was also a little disturbed at this time by two or three pretenders to the throne of France, each restinQf his claims on the asserted escape of Louis XVIL from the Temple. The first was Mathurin Bruneau, who was soon disposed of. A more trouble- some, if not formidable, claimant was Henri Louis Hebert, soi-disant Baron de Richemont and Due de Normandie.^ Both in 1814 and 1815 he protested against the accession of Louis XVI n. Again in 18 17 he gave the police some trouble, and much roused the ire of his sacred Majesty, whose serenity being further, disturbed by the contentions and opposite views of the different branches of the female part of his family, was moved to express himself very harshly. From the Kinof's commendation of the Duchesse de Berry for abstaining from politics, ' This pretender went through a variety of adventures, always persisting in his claim, and defending his cause in memorials and pamphlets. He protested against Louis Philippe's elevation to the throne ; was condemned to twelve years' impri- sonment ; escaped; and again and again was arrested. In 1848' he was allowed unmolested to pose as legitimate king — some old dowagers of the Faubourg Saint-Germain composed his court.. He died in 1855. His descendants are still claim 'LET HIM STAY WHERE HE IS.' 363 the friends and partizans of the banished Due d'Orleans conceived the idea of using her influence to bring their chief back to Paris and his party. The dowaeer Duchesse d'Orleans had fre- quently, but in vain, entreated the King not to prolong her son's banishment or to give heed to the calumnies of his enemies ; she would herself be Avilling; to be a cruarantee for his loyalty. On the occasion of the marriage the duke had duly sent his congratulations, and expressed a desire to be allowed to offer his compliments in person. Louis turned a deaf ear to this, but gave him, and several others at that time, the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour. Again protestations of gratitude and eternal fidelity are received from the Illustrious exile, but they only raise a cunning smile on the face of the rt^Sif monarch. * Let him stay where he is,' he said ; ' he is a man of honour no doubt ; but he has the misfortune to please my enemies. I am more at ease when the sea lies between his virtue and my distrust.' However, the Duchesse de Berry had more than once expressed a wish to see her dear kind aunt and uncle d'Orleans. Being urged by the dowager duchess, she told the King 364 'LET THE KING IN HIS WISDOM DECIDE? that the presence of these dear relatives was alone wanting to complete her happiness. He regretted to learn that anything was wanting to make her happiness perfect, and the more so that what was needed was the very thing he could not grant. He spoke to M. Decazes on the subject. He * verily thought that public tranquillity would not be in any way disturbed by the return of his serene highness.' This was clearly a gain to the exile. The King, however, thought it would be well to discuss the matter with his fair friend the countess at their next tete-a-tcte. But she could not be prevailed on to risk an opinion, for she knew that the Duchesse d'Anofouleme abhorred the Due d' Orleans, and was vehemently opposed to his return. She was sure that ' whatever his Majesty might determine would be the wisest decision that could be arrived at.' This pleased the King. He believed that she agreed with him, but forbore to say so because the Comte d'Artois was of opinion that to recall the duke and load him with favours was a surer way of securing his fidelity and attach- ment to the Interests of the elder branch than banishing him from his country — on the prin- 'LET THIS PEN BE KEPT} 365 ciple probably of heaping coals of fire on one's adversary. This opinion the count reiterated. ' You treat our cousin too severely,' he said. * I am persuaded that his sentiments are in the main what they ought to be.' The little duchess in coaxing terms once more said how she longed to see the dear uncle who when she was a child had been so kind to her. Louis at last, against his better judgment, yielded to the urgent entreaties of a part of his family. The Due d'Angouleme always adopted the views of the duchess, and the Due de Berry was indifferent : ' If Madame la Duchesse,' he said, ' would be made happier by the return to France of the Due d'Orleans, so would he.' To the Minister who presented the pen to the King for his signature to the order recalling the Due d'Orleans to France, he said, on return- ing it : ' Let this pen be kept ; it will serve to sign the abdication of those who urge me to commit this fault ' — prophetic words, indeed, if, as is asserted, they really were uttered by Louis XVIIL 366 A PIECE OF ADVICE. CHAPTER XXIII. A Piece of Advice — Enforcing his Claims — Mother and Child are doing well — Assassinating the Duke — Royal Visits, Balls and fetes — Alexander's Parting Counsel — The Due de Berry Assassinated — The Ante-room of the Opera-House — The Closing Scene. JHE Due d' Orleans and his family returned to France in February 1817. He was received by the King with an appearance of cordiality while desirine not to see him at all. ' Alon cotLsin' he said, ' I shall hope to see you often at the Chateau. Let your society be ours.' This was meant, it appears, as a piece of advice, but was received by the duke as a compliment. He, however, did not act upon it, but imme- diately after his arrival began to busy himself with eatherinof tosjether the remains of his paternal inheritance, and assembling around him his old clique. Most circumspect in his conduct, so that no reproach could be addressed to him, the Palais ENFORCING HIS CLAIMS. 367 Royal was nevertheless regarded as the head- quarters of intrlg-iie and conspiracy; thus realizing, as the King believed, his fears and expectations when he consented to his return. One obstacle to his views Louis resolved to oppose to him. This was an order that the princes of the royal house should not sit in the Chamber of Peers, by which means he prevented the Due d'Orleans from speaking against any of the measures introduced by his ministry. He, however, was more intent at that time in seeking- to add to his possessions. Although immensely rich, his parsimony was the frequent subject of jests and epigrams ; and the astonishment of the liberal party was great indeed when he brought an action against M. Julien to enforce the claim he made to the buildings comprising the Comedie Francaise. But he was less triumphant in this matter than he expected to be. The decision, as he ascer- tained, was almost certain to be against him. He therefore proposed a compromise, and to his immense chagrin had to hand over to M. Julien, the then proprietor of the building, the sum of 1, 1 50,000 francs — between forty and fifty thousand pounds sterling. It may perhaps have given him some sort 368 MOTHER AND CHILD ARE DOING WELL. of satisfaction, as the King, much mortified, be- lieved it would, when on the 21st of September, 1819, the Duchesse de Berry gave birth to a daughter. Two previous premature confine- ments had disappointed the anxious hopes of the elder Bourbons. On the present occasion it was almost high treason to doubt the appearance of an heir; and the 10 1 guns were confidently- listened for by all good royalists as the Virgin's reply to their earnest entreaties that a son might be vouchsafed to them. But neither prayers, nor votive offerings, nor revived street processions had availed. Mother and child were doing well, and that must suffice for the present. But, although the heir was not yet forth- coming, the throne that was supposed to await him was thought to be more satisfactorily established. France, released from the igno- minious burden of the army of occupation, and the war indemnity paid, the nation might soon look to be herself again. Certainly Bona- partism, as it was called, had not been extir- pated, severe as had been the repressive measures employed by the Government. It was preserved in the army as a sort of religion, and excited in royalist circles considerable ASSASSINATING THE DUKE. 369 alarm as the time drew near for the final evacuation of France. A secret negotiation was attempted with a view of prolonging the stay of the foreign troops, and one means employed to create disquiet was apretended attempt to assassi- nate the Duke of Wellino-ton when returning at night from a reception at Lady Crawford's to his hotel in the rue de I'Elysee. The duke's life was in no sort of danger. It was even asserted that he was concerned in the plot, therefore a party to the sham attack upon him. But this of course was an absurd story circulated by those who were not favour- able to him, and they appear to have been numerous. Louis, however, or rather his Minister of Police, discovered this intrioue of 'royalists more royalist than the King'; and the minister received his reward — ' tuie supcrbe alliance^ as the King said — his royal master asking in marriage Mdlle. Sainte-Aulaire, a lady with an ample dowry and of an ancient royalist family, in order to bestow her hand on his Minister as a particular mark of his favour. But when the strong places of France began to be evacuated in November 1818, according to the terms of the Convention agreed upon by the sovereigns at the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, VOL. I. B B 370 ROYAL VISITS, BALLS, AND fATES. the troops were escorted out of the towns by throng-s of people, half frantic with joy at their departure, shouting ' Vive la France,' and sing- ing with enthusiasm their patriotic songs. The Congress being dissolved, the Emperor Alex- ander, and his brother the Grand Duke Con- stantine, with the Kino- of Prussia and his son. returned to Paris to take their final leave of the King. Court balls, grand banquets, y^^j-, and public rejoicings were, as before, the order of the day. But the people were less sympathetic, for, notwithstanding all these gaieties, much financial embarrassment prevailed. There was a great depreciation in the public funds, and even a prospect of national bankruptcy. At this crisis the Emperor Alexander came to the rescue of France, and a prolongation of time for payment of the indemnity was arranged. The Czar is said to have then expressed his approval of Louis XVI 1 1. 's political system. It was difficult to define exactly what that system was. Some writers have called it ' playing the despot under the partial disguise of a constitu- tional king.' At all events, he was then invited to become a party to the Holy Alliance, and he seems to have been rather elated in consequence — considering it a proof of the fear with which ALEXANDER'S PARTING COUNSEL. the foreign sovereigns regarded France from the moment they made her free. The Emperor warned the King as a parting counsel that he would do well to keep a vigilant eye on the proceedings of the Due d'Orleans' friends. That the duke was ignorant of what was done and said in his name he sincerely hoped and desired to believe. ' My cousin,' replied the King, 'is doubdess aman of honour, and would on no account plot against me ; but if his friends could thrust me from my throne, and were to Invite him to sit on it, he would not, I think, object to take my place, provided it ap- peared to him that he could sustain himself there.' By the ist of July, 1819, the whole of the foreign troops had left. * God be praised ! ' exclaimed his sacred Majesty. * At last I may believe that I am King of France. Gentlemen,' he said, turning to the courtiers standing around him, ' henceforth I will be guarded only by my own soldiers ; and I promise you, we shall be perfectly peaceful.' This promise was not realized ; yet, on the whole, it may be said that appearances in 18 19 — deceitful though they were — warranted the hope of the Bourbons that the throne for which an heir was so anxiously desired was at last fairly established. 372 THE DUC DE BERRY ASSASSINATED. Lamentably, then, In 1820 were those hopes suddenly dashed by the dagger of the assassin Louvel, who, on the night of the 1 3th of February, stabbed the Due de Berry as he was re-entering the opera house after having conducted the duchess to her carriage. ' Adieu,' he was saying to his wife ; ' 1 shall soon rejoin you ' — for she was leaving the theatre early, feeling nervous froni the effects of a blow she had received from the sudden opening of a door in the corridor, as she was passing out of the Due d'Orleans' box to her own. The man placed his hand on the prince's shoulder, struck him under the right breast, then fled with all speed up the rue de Richelieu. For the moment the prince thought it only a blow ; but blood began to issue, and putting his hand to his side, he drew the dagger from the wound. ' Voila mi Jicr bnttal^ he exclaimed, and would have fallen but for the support of the Comte de Menard, who stood near, but whom the man Louvel had thrust aside to do his vile deed more surely. All this took place so rapidly that the duchess's carriage had not yet left. Hearing the duke's exclama- tion, she instantly jumped out, opposing all attempts to restrain her, rushed to her husband, and, while embracing him, her dress was covered with his blood. THE ANTE-ROOM OF THE OPERA-HOUSE. Z7Z The prince was now removed to an ante- room and laid on a sofa, and two surgeons were soon in attendance. Hope that he would survive there was none. He asked for a priest, and the Bisliop of Chartres shortly after arrived. ' Where is my Caroline, my wife ? ' he cried. ' Oh ! come to me, that I may die in your arms.' She mean- while was in an agony of grief, sobbing violently, insistinof on embraclnof him, her dress torn and stained, her hair dishevelled, imploring the doctors to speak to her words of hope. Meanwhile the ballet was going on, and the applause of the spectators was plainly heard — what had taken place had not then been com- municated to the manager. Once the dying man opened his eyes, and recognized the room he was in. ' Ah, this room ! ' he exclaimed ; ' 'tis a judgment of heaven.' — It was there that he had been accustomed to have his rendezvous with the. Jig ur antes of the opera. The Princess Adelaide d'Orleans was so deeply impressed by the horror of the scene in the ante-room, and its incongruity with what was taking place outside, that, overcome b)- her feelinp-s, she fainted. The whole of the famil)' had assembled except the King, when the duke suddenly asked for his children, the baby princess, and the 374 THE CLOSING SCENE. illegitimate family. Of the latter, the two girls only were brought to him ; but he whispered to his brother Angouleme, ' The boy.' No heed was given to this request — perhaps it seemed too like a family acknowledgment of him. But, whether or not, the child was not brought to his father. At last the King arrived. Life seemed to have been so long spared to the dying man that he mieht ask with his last breath that he who had eiven him his death-blow should not die for it. The King made no reply. He then asked pardon for disturbing him, for bringing him from his bed ; and Louis answered, ' I have had my night's rest, my child. It is half-past five ; I shall not leave you again.' Once more he said imploringly, ' Let him not die.' Still no answer. He then asked to be turned on his left side, and, murmuring ' I should have died happier,' breathed his last. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. Spottiswoodc ^j' Co., Printers, New-street Square, London. 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