HISTORY
Hapoleon Bonaparte;
INCLUDING
LIVES OF NAPOLEON THE GREAT,
LOUIS NAPOLEON,
AND OF
THE PRINCE IMPERIAL.
BY HENRY W. DE PUY,
\UTHOI OF "KOSSUTH AND HIS GENERALS," "ETHAN ALLEN," ETC.
NEW YORK :
HURST & COMPANY,
PUBLISHERS,
1.732710
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
Characteristics of Revolutions The French Revolution of 17'JS
The Power of Opinion Profligacy of the French Court previous
to the Revolution the Catholic Priesthood Debauchees at the
Confessional The Palais Royal The Catholic Church Infi-
delity Oppressive Laws Maladministration of Justice Indus-
try Paralyzed The Bastile Revolt of the People Crimes and
Sufferings during the Revolution The Reign of Terror The
French Character Napoleon Bonaparte His Influence over
European Affairs P&rents of Bonaparte Varying Fortunes of
the Bonaparte Family Early History of the Bonapartes They
are driven from Corsica Arrest of Napoleon His Poverty He
Contemplates Suicide His Dreams of Oriental Empire HU
Prompt Suppression of an Insurrection in Paris The Boy and
the Sword Josephine Her Romantic History Her Opinion
of Napoleon He Carries Her Character of Josephine Bona-
parte is Appointed to the Command of the Army in Italy His
Extraordinary Successes His Expedition to Egypt His Ambi-
tion The First Consul Marengo Eugene and Hortense The
Emperor Marriage of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense Letter
from Joseph ii:e to Hortense Napoleon the Master of Europe
He Distributes Crowns among his Brothers and Sisters HU
Divorce His Marriage with Maria Lou-ina Birth of the King
of Rome Invasion of Russia Disasters Elba Waterloo
Children of Louis Bonapart3 and Hortense Birth of LouU
Jfipoleon Napoleon Charles Death of Napoleon Charles
A.n*xiuU;N Louis Napoleon and the Emperor i'reseuUoiwit foi
Presentiment The Exiles, II
TU1 C O N T K TC T 8 .
CllAi'TEH II.
BKSTOHATION OK THE BOURHON8
For.tainblean Infidelity and Immorality Francis I. an<! the Wig*
Fool The Dying King and tin; Courtiers Adventure of Francii
J. Diana of Poitiers and the Duchess d' Etarnpea Catherine
<te MediciHGabriellod' Entrees Henry IV. Loui;XIV. His
Queen and his Mistresses Vice and Devotion The Lady Gam-
blers Madame do Main tenon The Actreas and Her Lover in
Lent Death of Louis XIV. His Manner of Converting the
Huguenots Louis XV. His Marriage with Marie Lecziuska
A Prince and his Tutor Anecdotes of the Duke of Burgundy
} : ius VII. Josephine at Fontainbleau Napoleon and Maria
Louisa Napoleon and Pius VII. " Comedian " " Tragedian "
Abdication of Napoleon Parting of Napoleon with the Im-
perial Guard The King's Cabinet Napoleon's Civil Adminis-
tration His Character The Conscription War and its Crimes
and Miseries The Passion for War What a Declaration of
War really is .Review of Bonaparte's Career The Bourbons
Louis XVI II. His Escape from France He Seeks an Asylum
in England The Son of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette His
Imprisonment and Death Louis XV1JI. placed upon the
French Throne by tho Allied Powers His Policy "Nothing
Learned, Nothing Forgotten" Reign of Louis XVIII. His
Death Chailes X. His Gallantries Madame Polastron, his
Mistress Coronation of Charles X. His Desire to Re-establish
Despotism His Unpopularity The Royal Family The Soli-
tary Hut rah Prince Polignac Expedition against Algiers
Discontent of the People Character of Charles X. Another
UiToliition The Pavements of Paris again Bathed with Blood
Infatuation <>f Charles X. Queen Hortense Her Sons Louis
Na|M>leoii, .... ......
CHAPTER III.
THE RKK;N or i,oris PUIUPPE.
The Three Days oi July Incidents Victory of the People De-
position of Charles X. The Duke of OrleansExile of Ohvlw
CONTENTS. U
. Louis Philippe Chosen King Parentage of Louis Philippe
Character of his Father Madame de Genii a Education pf
Louis Philippe He Joins the Army Anecdotes Decapitation
of Louis Philippe's Father Exile Louis Philippe in Switzer-
land He Becomes a Teacher He Proposes to Visit the United
States His Journey through Norway and Sweden He Lands
at Philauelphia Visits Washington Proceeds to the West Hia
Adventure with the Indians He Visits Niagara Falls Returns
to Philadelphia Poverty The Rejected Lover The Amateur
Surgeon Return to Europe Death of the Duke of Montpensier
Marriage of Louis Philippe His Effort to Engage in the Eu-
ropean Revolutions His Interview with Danton Louis Phil-
ippe again in France Returns to Nenilly Called to the
Throne of France The Duchess de Berri Administration of
Louis Philippe Peace Sentiments Family of Louis Philippe
The Princess Adekide Her Death Children of Louis Philippe
The Duke of Orleans His Marriage The Duke of Nemours
The Duke of Montpensier Louisa Marie Guizot Anecdote
Guizot's Marriage His Literary Labors His Political Fortunes
His Personal Appearance Thiers His Early History Thifers
u a Legislator His Appearance His Oratory The War in
Algiers Abd-el-Kader How the French Exterminated the
Arabs Cost of the War in Algiers Anecdotes The Emir and
the Bishop, IS]
CHAPTER IV
LOUIS NAPOLEON.
Hortense Her Sons in the Italian Revolution HorteuM
and Louis Napoleon in Paris Louis Napoleon and the Polea
His Generosity His Work on the Swiss Confederacy He De-
clines the Hand of the Queen of Portugal His Correspondence
with Lafayette His Plans for Revolutionizing France His In-
terview with French Officers Madame Gordon Colonel Van-
drey Persigny Louis Napoleon Enters Strasbourg Letter to
his Mother Speech to the Soldiers Failure Imprisonment
Defense Letter to Odilon Tlnrrnt Lints Napoleon is sent to
America Consternation of Louis Philippe Trial of Louis Na-
polaon'i Accomplices Letter of Queen Hortense Her Deatn-
CONTENTS.
Louis Napoleon Leaves Switzerland Goes to England Death
of Charlea X. Death of the Duke d' Angouleme Removal of
the Ashes of Napoleon from St Helena to Paris Louia Na-
poleon at Boulogne His Defeat His Attempt to Escape His
Arrest His Trial His Imprisonment His Address to the Re-
mains of the Emperor The Fortress of Ham The Constable's
Tower The Capuchin Friar A Lover's Revenge Louia Na-
poleon's Literary Pursuits His Works The Nicaraugua Canal
Illness of Louis Napoleon's Father Escape of Louia Napoleon
Dr. Couneau Death of the Count of St Leu, 11
CHAPTER V.
THE REVOLUTION OK 1848.
Review of Louis Philippe's Reign His Purchase of Adherents
Condition of the Country Electoral Reform Reform Banquets
The King's Speech Proposed Banquet in Paris Its Suppres-
sion Excitement of the People The Barricades Battles The
Tricolor Victorious Louis Philippe's Abdication HisEscap*
The Impromptu Monarch The Duchess of Orleans The Cham-
ber of Deputies The Provisional Government Its Proclama-
tion Lamartine His Early Life The Sermon Lamartine in
the Chamber of Deputies Lamartine's Associates Louis Phil-
ippe in Exile His Character and Social Qualities His Death
The National Assembly The Provisional Government Resign
their Authority into the Hands of the People's Representatives
The Juno Insurrections General Cavaignac Louis Napoleon
His Election to the National Assembly His Declinature His
Re-election He enters the National Assembly He becomes a
Candidate for the Presidency His Addresses to the Nation
Character and Services of General Cavaignac The Presidential
Candidates Election of Louis Napoleon, 941
CHAPTER VI
THE BONAPARTE FAMTLT.
Instability of the French Government Changing Dynasties Bona-
parte Family Maria Louisa Her Abandonment of Napoleon ia
<> N T K NTS- E
his Adversity Count of Nieppcrg The Duchy of Parma Ex-
travagauce of Maria Louisa Parmesan Scandals Favorites of
Maria Louisa The Son of Bonaparte Created Duke; of Reich-
stadt His Character His Death Joseph Bonaparte His Early
Career He declines the Crown of Lombardy Becomes King
of Naples Afterward accepts the Crown of Spain Retires to
die United States Declines tha Crown of Mexico Returns to
Europe His Death Lncien Bonaparte His Legislative Career
Quarrel with Napoleon Refuses to he Placed on the Spanish
Throne His Etruscan Farm His Death His Children Louis
Bonaparte King of Holland His Philanthropy His Literary
Works Jerome Bonaparte His American Wife King of West-
phalia His Dissipation His Queen Eliza Bonaparte Pauline
Bonaparte Her Character Anecdotes Caroline Bonaparte
Her Love of Sway Her Children The Mother of Bonaparte-
Anecdote Eugene Beauharnais The Revolution of 1848 Louii
Napoleon 298
CHAPTER VIL
THK "COUP D'ETAT.'*
The National Will Louis Napoleon's First Message The Consti-
tution of France The Seeds of Dissension Louis Napoleon at
Ham Parties in the Assembly Acts of the Assembly Speech
of Louis Napoleon French Intervention in Rome Pius IX.
His Early History His Elevation to the Pontificate His Ef-
forts at Reform Anecdote The Pope and the Revolution The
Popes Flight from Rome His Return Agitation of France
Attitude of the President The Suffrage Question Increasing
Excitement The " Coup d' Etat " Appeal to the People Ar-
reat of General Changarnier Of General Cavaignac Of General
Lamoriciere Of Other Members of the Assembly Thiers De-
cree of the Assembly The Usurpation Resisted Success of
Louis Napoleon The Elections The Inauguration of the Pre-
sident The New Constitution Arrests Deportation of Politi-
cal Offenders Destruction of the Freedom of the
C O N T E N T 8
Conli.siauun of (lie Orleans Estates The Duchess of Orleaiui
Louis Napoleon'* Self-vindication Distribution of .Medal*
among tho Military Officers Oalh of Allegiance General La-
moricioro Arago, tlie Astronomer Independent Action of Die
Court* Adjournment of the Assembly and Senate Presi-
dent'* Journey to Strasbourg Matrimonial Projects four
through the Southern Departments Significant Speeches at
Lyons and Bordeaux Reception at Paris Announcement of
the Empire to the Senate "Senutus Consultum " The Popu-
lar Vote I n augural Address The Empress Speech on the
Marriage Marriage Ceremony Imperial Clemency Prosper-
ity of the Country Acquiescence of the People Rigor of the
Bmparor'8 Rule Cavaignac _.35J
CHAPTER VIII.
THE EMPIRE IN ITS RISE AND IN ITS FALL.
Intrigues at Constantinople Tret ty with England War with
Russia Battles in the Crimea Two points gained by Na-
poleon Birth of Prince Imperial Orsini's attempt Ital-
ian Wars Victories of the Fre.ich Peace of Villefranca
Gains of France Victorious War with China Peace
signed at Pekin Mexico and Maximillian Sad fate of
Maximillian and his wife Napoleon's attitude during the
Polish Insurrection Declaration of War against Germany
Defeats of the French Capitulation of Sedan Napoleon
a Prisoner Napoleon's Death in England The Empress
in England The Prince Imperial His Education His
Services His Death in Africa Prince Napoleon (Pon-
HISTORY OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILI
CHAPTER I.
RETROSPECTIVE
THE progress of the human raind, and of human so-
ciety, is seldom marked by regular and successive steps.
At some periods, civilization appears to be stationary ;
at others, even to retrograde ; at others again, to spring
forward with rapid, gigantic, and almost convulsive
strides. This irregularity of advance is, doubtless, os-
tensible rather than actual. Preparations are gradu
ally made, ideas slowly matured, and the fonndations
of the future superstructure laid with secret and patient
industry. But these subterranean workings are for
the most part unnoticed, till, ir the fullness of time, a
rich harvest of consequenc.es is developed with appa-
rent suddenness, from causes which have been accumu-
lating in silence for many years.
The fall of the Roman empire constituted one of
these great eras. It was the demarkation between the
old world and the new. From that period, society and
nations alike assumed a new aspect, and the world
commenced a new career. It was the moral delude.
O
upon the abatement of which a new condition of
14 BKTEOSPECf.
society, new systems of government, and new methodi
of thought sprung up.
The Reformation effected another mighty change
It introduced pure religion into the realm of almost
pagan superstition, civil liberty into the empire of
tyranny, and science into the depths of national igno-
rance. One of its immediate and most momentous
consequences was the struggle for constitutional rights,
in England, in the seventeenth century a struggle in
which civil liberty and religious freedom and tolerance
won their most substantial victory.
The great rebellion against feudal and mental op-
pression in France, which broke forth publicly in 1789,
and resulted in the overthrow of the French throne, is
among these memorable transitions, and is deeply in-
teresting to the present generation, being nearest to OUT
own days, most extraordinary in its character, and far-
spreading in its consequences. No period in history
is more fertile in attractions none presents more
scenes of thrilling interest, more subtle problems of
character, more intricate intrigues, more truths of po-
litical philosophy, or more lessons of profound wisdom.
No period is richer in materials for the contemplation
of the statesman, the moralist or the Christian.
The fall of the empires of the ancient world, exhib
iting scenes of extensive suffering in their progress,
and melancholy calamity in their consummation, bore
a far different character. They all perished by in-
vasion. Tiie foreign sword, of all the instruments of
ruin rhe most obvious, rude and simple, struck the dia-
dem irom orowtj already sinking under the weight of
sovereignty, and the remains of empires mouldered
away by the course of nature.
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 15
But the French monarchy was unassailed by any
external violence. In the midst of what seemed to the
eye? of Europe the full vigor of life, it perished in rapid
agonies, for which the public experience had no rem
eily, and human annals scarcely a name. Like one
of those bodies whose flesh and blood turn into fire, it
consumed with internal combustion, and at length,
after an interval of indescribable torture, sunk in ashes,
and was no more.
This singular result was effected by the agency of a
new power one which must inevitably prove stronger
than the fortresses or armed legions of despots the
Power of Opinion ! In the old trials of empire, all the
motives of action were confined to the higher ranks.
Wars wp'-f> undertaken by ambitious princes to extend
their conquests, or they were occasioned by the rivalry
of aspirants to sovereignty. Dynasties might be
changed, but the institutions and the laws of the state,
the habits and condition of the masses of the people,
remained the same. Whatever might be the result, the
calamities of war fell with equal weight upon them,
while they never experienced its benefits. The French
Revolution was of a different character. It was a
warfare between the People and the Sovereign a re-
bellion against Privilege and for Equality. It was not
a conflict to decide who should be recognized as the
oppressor of the people, but it was a warfare against
Oppression itself.
Perhaps the world never saw, since the days of Sar
danapalus, a court so corrupt, a nobility so profligate,
and a state of society so utterly contemptuous of even
the decent affectation of virtue, as existed in France
10 RETIiOSI'KCT.
fruin the reign of Loui^ XiV. until the overthrow of
Louis XVI. A succession of dissolute women ruled
the king and controlled the deliberations of the cabi-
net ; lower life was a sink of corruption ; the whole a
romance of the most scandalous order.
Vice may have existed to a high degree of crimi-
nality in other lands ; but in no other country of Eu-
rope, or of the earth, was vice ever so public, so osten-
tatiously forced upon the eyes of men, so completely
formed into an established and essential portion of
fashionable and courtly life.
It was a matter of course that the king of France
should hvvfj a mistress! She was as much a part of
the royal establishment as a prime minister was of the
royal, councils, and not unfrequently, if not always, her
pow?,r was greater and more arbitrarily exercised than
t!i?,f of this high officer. And, as if for the purpose
of offering a still more contemptuous defiance to the
common decencies of life, it often happened that the
mistress was a married woman!
Yet in that country the whole ritual of Popery was
performed with scrupulous exactness. A numerous
and powerful priesthood filled France ; and the cere-
monials of the national religion were performed con-
tinually before the court, with the most rigid formality.
The king had his confessor, and the mistress inva-
riably had hers. The nobles attended the royal chapel,
and had their confessors. The confessional was never
without royal and noble solicitors of monthly, or, at
the furthest, quarterly absolution. Still, from the
whole body of ecclesiastics, France heard few remon-
sbance against these public abominations. Their ser
TICKS OF TUK NOBILITY. 17
nions, few aiid feeble, sometimes declaimed ou the
vices of the beggars of Paris, or the riots amoiig the
peasantry ; but no sense of scriptural responsibility,
and no natural feeling of duty, often ventured to depre-
cate the vices of the nobles or the shameless and revolt-
ing debauchery of the throne.
Around the king was clustered a crowd of venal no-
bles, who contended for his favors with adulation, and
breathed only in the sunshine of his smiles. YV holly
destitute of independence of spirit, these noble* were
licentious and arrogant, battening without shame on
the spoils of the people, and priding themselves on
the lineages they disgraced.
The Palais Royal was for a long time the seat of the
revolting impurities of the most impure court in Ku-
rope. Built by a prelate on whose head rested the in-
nocent blood of the Huguenots, and probably built out
of their spoils, it w;is destined, in the possession of
Philip Egaiit (father of Louis Philippe.) to make a
further progress in the corruption of the public morals.
He divided his palace into tenements, and hired them
out to every pursuit of every purchaser, however vile.
From this assemblage of gaming houses, and nests of
the most daring and the most forbidden violations of
law, human and divine, was poured forth, in its time
of ripeness, the misery of France. The government,
which had criminally endured such a center of abomi-
nation in its capital, and had even suffered a scanda-
lous revenue to be raised out of its pollutions, was
the first to feel the evil. The Palais Royal suddenly
combined with its character as the chosen place of the
low luxuries of Parisian life, the uc\v character :*f the
18
bead-quarters of revolution. There wore to be found
the haranguers against the state ; there were the con-
federacies which marched to the overthrow of the
throne. If the government of Louis XVI. had been
awake to the primary obligation on all governments of
guarding the national morals, this glaring scandal
would not have been suffered an hour the gates of the
Palais Iloyal would have been closed on the whole
r-co of its professors of abomination.
The clergy, too, shared in the general corruption.
T .cir wealth was enormous ; their luxury excessive
an i ostentatious ; and all pretensions to superior sanc-
tity or correctness of manners had long since been
abandoned. Indeed, many of the highest rank among
them were pre-eminent for their licentiousness. Gener-
ally speaking, it might be said, that, for a long time,
the higher orders of the clergy had ceased to take a
vital concern in their profession, or to exercise its func
tiuns in a manner which interested the feelings and
ali'ections of men.
The Catholic church had grown old, and unfortu-
nately did not possess the means of renovating her
ill ctrines, or improving her constitution, so as to keep
pace with the enlargement of the human understanding.
The lofty claims to infallibility which she had set up
and maintained during the middle ages claims which
she could neither renounce nor modify, now threatened,
in more enlightened times, like battlements too heavy
for the foundation, to be the means of ruining the edi-
fice they were designed to defend. To retrace no
footsteps to abandon no dogma, continued to be the
mottoes of the church of Rome, She could explain
CHURCH OF Roirrc.
Nothing, s< ften nothing, renounce nothing, consistently
with her assertion of infallibility.
The whole trash which had been accumulated for
ages of darkness and ignorance, whether consisting of
extravagant pretensions, incredible assertions, absurd
doctrines which confounded the understanding, or pu-
erile ceremonies which revolted the taste, was alike
incapable of being explained away or abandoned. It
would certainly have been (humanly speaking) ad van
tageous, alike for the church of Rome and for Chris-
tianity in general, that the former had possessed the
means of relinquishing her extravagant claims, modi-
fying her more obnoxious doctrines, and retrenching
her superstitious ceremonials, as increasing knowledge
showed the injustice of the one, and the absurdity of
the other.
But this power she dared not assume ; and hence,
perhaps, the great schism which divides the Christian
world, which might otherwise never have existed, or at
least not in its present extended and imbittered state.
But, in all events, the church of Rome, retaining the
spiritual empire over so large and fair a portion of the
Christian world, would not have been reduced to the
alternative of either defending propositions, which, in
the eyes of all enlightened men, are altogether unten-
able, or of beholding the most essential and vital doc-
trines of Christianity confounded with them, and the
whole system exposed to the scorn of the infidel. The
more enlightened and better informed part of the
French nation had faJlen very generally into the lattei
extreme.
Infidelity, in attacking the absurd claims and
20
extravagant doctrines of the church of Re me, had art
fully availed herself of those abuses, as if they had been
really a part of the Christian religion ; and they whose
credulity could not digest the grossest articles of the
papist creed, thought themselves entitled to conclude,
in general, against religion itself, from the abuses in-
grafted upon it by ignorance and priestcraft. The same
circumstances which favored the assault, tended to
weaken the defense.
Embarrassed by the necessity of defending the mass
of human inventions with which their church had ob-
scured and deformed Christianity, the Catholic clergy
were not the best advocates even in the best of causes ;
and though there were many brilliant exceptions, yet
it must be owned that a great part of the higher ordere
of the priesthood gave themselves little trouble about
maintaining the doctrines, or extending the influence
of the church, considering it only in the light of an
asylum, where, under the condition of certain renunci-
ations, they enjoyed, in indolent tranquillity, a state of
ease and luxury.
Those who thought on the subject more deeply, were
contented quietly to repose the safety of the church
upon the restrictions on the press, which prevented thft
possibility of free discussion. The usual effect fol-
lowed ; and many who, if manly and open debate
upon theological subjects had been allowed, would
donbtlens have been enabled to winnow the wheat
from the chaff, were, in the state of darkness to which
they were reduced, led to reject Christianity itself,
alon^ with the corruptions of the Ilotnish church,
and to become absolute infidels instead of reformed
Christiana.
OONMTION OF THE PEOPTJL $1
The number of the clergy, who were thus indiffer-
eat to doctrine or duty, was largely increased, since
promotion to the great benefices had ceased to be dis-
tributed with regard to the morals, piety, talents, and
erudition of the candidates, but was bestowed among
the younger branches of the nobility, upon men who
were at little pains to reconcile the looseness of their
former habits and opinions with the sanctity of their
new profession, and who, embracing the church solely
as a means of maintenance, were little calculated by
their lives or learning to extend its consideration.
Beneath all, there was the bulk of the population,
urban and rural, who may be said to have literally pos-
sessed no rights, except that of paying taxes. All the
burdens of the state fell on the industrious and product-
ive classes. The nobility and clergy were exempt from
taxation. The most oppressive mode of collecting
prevailed. Two-thirds of the whole land of the coun
try was in the possession of the nobility and clergy,
who, not content with their fiscal exemption, imposed
upon the cultivators feudal dues and services of the
most onerous and harassing description.
The right of killing game was reserved to the land-
lords ; and tenants were even forbidden, by special
edicts, to till their ground, or reap their crops, if the
preservation of young broods might be thereby endan-
gered. Game of the most destructive kind, such aa
wild boars and herds of deer, was permitted to go at
large through extensive districts, without any inclosurea
to protect the crops. Numerous edicts existed which
prohibited hoeing and weeding, lest the young par-
tridges should be disturbed ; taking away the stubbla
lest the birds should be deprived of shelter ; mowing
hay, lest their eggs should be destroyed ; manuring
with night-soil, lest their flavor should be injured
Manorial courts were scattered through the land, to
take summary vengeance on delinquents in any of
these particulars. In fact, the rural population was, to
& certain extent, in a state of serfdom, continually ex
posed to galling and degrading tyranny, which the
inhabitants of towns escaped only to undergo humilia-
tions and vexations of an analogous nature.
It was impossible that agriculture could flourish un-
der such untoward circumstances. Instead of being
protected and encouraged in his indispensable calling,
the husbandman was regarded as a species of drudge,
appointed by nature to toil for the benefit of superiors.
The king, the nobility, and the clergy, all considered
him in this light, and contended which should wring
from him the most in the various shapes of taxes, rents,
<lues, and tithes. Thus cultivation was in the rudest
state, and the naturally fertile soil yielded but a frac-
tion of the produce it might have been stimulated to
rear. Travelers who visited France at this epoch,
concur in representing abject poverty and wretchedness
as the universal lot of the peasantry.
Nor was it otherwise with commerce. Industry
was fettered by a thousand shackles. Rulers have, in
every age and country, with strange perversity, marked
trade and its followers for their legitimate prey, and,
in the alternate guise of exaction and restriction, la-
bored to cramp its development. The right to carry
on business, to exercise a profession, was a matter of
purchase. Not only were there chartered guilds te
MALAii.UIMSTKATlUX OF JTJSTIOT. 23
enter through a lung novitiate and a heavy outlay, bnt
the king also was to be bought. Licenses might be
obtained from him to monopolize certain callings
within a particular circuit, such as those of barber,
wood-vender, sausage-maker, &c. When the royal
treasury needed a sudden replenishment, multitudes of
these licenses used to be issued, which were bought up
in the first instance by capitaKsts, and subsequently
resold by them through the country at a considerable
advance. A regular traffic was at times maintained
in this singular species of paper-money, prices being
ruled naturally by the prospect, more or less promis-
ing, of plundering the community.
The corruption and uncertainty prevailing in the
administration of justice likewise tended to thwart tho
operations of commerce. Judicial offices were subjects
of bargain and sale ill every part of the kingdom, dis-
posed of to the highest bidders, wholly irrespective of
competency. Hence bribery flowed as a necessary
consequence, and the courts of law degenerated into
mere marts, where justice was openly bartered for gold.
Thus privilege was the grand characteristic of France
at this period, ranging through all the ramifications of
her disjointed society. First, the high nobility, with
sinecures and pensions often hereditary, crouched in
sycophancy around the court, and regarded all others
as made to minister to their gratifications. Next, the
inferior nobility or gentry, who alone were eligible to
be officers in the army and navy, and to fill sundry
important offices ; both exempt from taxation.
Thus the French labored under a despotism to which
the horrors of Iliiidoo servitude were comparative
RCTROSrKCT.
freed 01 r.. Without trial by jury, without means of
justice, subjected to the most atrocious oppressions, in
person and property, by the grand seigneurs, the posi-
tion of a French subject was far less enviable than that
of an Egyptian fellah of the present day. The life of
a peasant was less valued than that of a wild boar,
and long centuries of tyranny had left him but littlo
else of humanity than its form.
A volume would scarcely suffice to define all the op-
pressions to which the French subject was exposed ;
and how sjreat soever were his wrongs, the semblnnce
of justice was to be had only through the influence of
the beauty of a female relation, or bri-bes in money,
that were openly and shamelessly administered. Tlio
Bastile was crowded with the victims of private ani-
mosity, consigned to loathsome dungeons without the
pretense of crime, by arbitrary arrests obtained from
a corrupt executive through favor or money. These
victims numbered 15,000, in the reign of Louis XV r .
Safety for persons and property there was none ; and
the social relations of the lower classes were exposed to
the debaucheries of the seigneurs; among the long
catalogue of whose infamous " rights," the " bai.yer tie
ma/riees* and the "silence dc grenouilles" were at
once the most odious and the most ridiculous. The
nature of the latter, was a requirement on the peasants
to beat constantly the waters of the marshy districts,
in order to keep silent the frogs, lest their croakiugs
should disturb the lady of the seigneur during her con-
finement. This duty might be commuted for a snm of
money, or the delinquent caught, and hung up without
ceremony at the dour of the grand seignenr.
ANA.ROBY. 25
Debauchery and blasphemy, selfishness and disre-
gard of right, in high places, had done their worst.
Nothing short of miraculous interposition could have
saved France from the legitimate consequences of its
own unparalleled infamy. A rapid stride in political
knowledge had been made in the briefest possible space
of time, but the alphabet of morals and the social vir-
tues, had yet to be acquired.
A revolution prompted by principles thoroughly en-
lightened, fostered by motives thoroughly pure, and
commenced by means thoroughly pacific and constitu-
tional, had, unfortunately, been attempted by a nation
which, if we regard it in the mas-, must be pronounced
to have been utterly unworthy of the blessings to
which the contemplated changes were in themselves
likely to lead.
Justified in revolt by the oppressions and crimes of
their rulers, but undeserving of freedom by reason of
their own vices, the French nation knew not how to
use the gift when it was put into their hands. The
first steps of their emancipation plunged them into an-
archy, irreligion, and massacre. They dishonored that
eacred name of Liberty which they had proudly writ
ten upon their banner : and they were punished moro
for the sins of their governors than for their own by
having to pass again under the yoke, and to learn
gome of the duties of freemen, from a despot whom
they themselves had been obliged to place on the
throne of the Capets.
No great revolution can be accomplished without
excesses and miseries at which humanity revolts. This
ifi cuiliieotly true of the F;each revolution. It was a
26 KKTUOBPKC T.
destruction of great abuses, executed with much ititin
rnanity, violence and injustice.
But notwithstanding the crimes of the revolution and
the sufferings it caused, it effected a beneiicial change.
A revolution, at its best, is a painful and perilous ruin
edy ; at its worst, it is the severest trial which a nation
can undergo. But such trials seldom occur, except in
cases where hopeless slavery and irreparable decay are
the only alternatives. There is no doubt that the
French Revolution was an instance of the worst kind ;
perhaps it was the very worst that ever occurred. Not
only did the popular movement result in atrocities, but
the exhaustion which followed led to the usurpation of
Napoleon and the wars of the empire.
Three millions and a half of Frenchmen,* and a
prodigious number of foreigners, perished, who, but for
the Revolution and its consequences, might have ended
their days in peace. Human ingenuity, in short, can
scarcely imagine means by which a greater amount of
violence and bloodshed could have been crowded into
a quarter of a century. Still, an escape from this fiery
trial would have been dearly purchased by the contin-
uance of the ancient institutions for another century.
The evils of violence and bloodshed, dreadful as they
are, cannot be compared to those of oppressive insti-
tutions. Violence and bloodshed are necessarily par-
tial, but oppressive institutions are universal. It is
Mr. Alison, in his hist Jiy, enumerates the victims of the Revolution,
including those of the civil war in La Vendee, at 1,022,351 souls; and
the soldiers wno perished in the ware of the Empire, at 2,200,400. Thii
does not include those who fell at Waterloo, in the battles of the revolu*
ttonary contest, and in the various naval actions of the war.
PfcABANtfcYi 7
impossible to guillotine a whole nation ; it is impossible
to enroll a whole nation as conscripts ; but it is easy to
make a whole nation miserable by disabilities and exac-
tions. Even under the Reign of Terror, each individual
citizen must have felt that there were many hundred
chances to one in favor of his escape from denuncia-
tion ; but no peasant had a hope of escaping the
tyranny of the feudal customs.
Violence and bloodshed are in their nature transi-
tory ; but oppressive institutions may be perpetual.
Crimes which spring from passion soon exhaust them-
selves ; but crimes which spring from habit may
continue for ever. The Reign of Terror was over in
fourteen months ; but the ancient regime might have
subsisted until its effects had reduced France to the de-
crepitude of China or Constantinople. Violence and
oloodshed produce merely suffering ; but oppressive
institutions produce degradation also. A French peas-
ant might retain the pride and spirit of a free man,
though he knew that the next day he might be dragged
before a revolutionary tribunal, or hurried to join the
army in Spain or Russia. But a French peasant who
had been placed in the stocks for want of due servility
to a noble, who had seen his son sent to the galleys for
destroying a partridge's eggs, who knew that the honor
of his family had been outraged by some licentious
courtier such a man could not but feel himself a de-
based and unhappy slave. The sufferings of the Revo-
lution, in short, were to the sufferings of the Bourbon
monarchy, -\ the plague in London to the malaria of a
tropu'Hl climate. The one was a temporary, though
overwhelming blow, the other a wasting pestilence
28 EETBOSPEOT.
the perpetual source of terror and misery to evetj
successive generation existing within its influence.
The whole of the privileged classes of France actu-
ally vied with the populace in running the career of
general subserviency. The National Assembly was
totally irreligious, it was a great conclave of infidels
All professing popery, all alienated by their habits from
the religion of the Scriptures, all scoffing at that reli-
gion which they had been forbid to investigate, and all
hating the superstition which had been substituted in
its room the higher orders of France, the gentry, and
the whole body of literature were godless, is it to be
wondered at, that their private profligacy passed into
their public existence ? that the heartlessness, vanity,
selfishness, and love of pleasure, which already made
society in France an abomination in the sight of earth
and heaven, should have only flamed out in the broad
and violent fires of the Revolution?
But with every allowance for the operation of these
unfortunate conditions, much, no doubt, must be at-
tributed to the singular features of the French charac-
ter : to that fickle and hasty temperament, that warlik
spirit and inordinate passion for military glory, and
that deplorable want of moral principle which have
too much distinguished it, but which were never so
marked or attended with such fatal consequences as
during the revolutionary struggle. There is much that
is amiable, and much that is admirable, in the French
character ; for general cleverness, active enterprise,
during heroism, and patience under the hardships and
privations of \vtir, they are, perhaps, unriraled ; but
the quiet enthusiasm which pursues its object, steadily
29
and silently, through neglect and througn reproach
the courage to withstand popular clamor the linu-
ness to resist the contagion of popular emotion the
fortitude to sutler in obscurity and in secret the de-
votion to adhere unflinchingly to an obnoxious prin-
ciple or to a sinking cause these, unhappily, have ..l
no time been prominent in the Gallic character.
The vices and cruelties of the several governments
which successively seized the direction of affairs, after
the memorable events of 1789, and the consequent dis-
appointment, disgust, and exhaustion of the people,
paved an easy way for the daring usurpation of Na-
poleon Bonaparte ; and amid the comparative repose
which ensued under his iron despotism, the nation,
wearied of its fruitless struggle after freedom, surk
quietly to sleep.
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
There can be no stronger illustration of the genius
and influence of Bonaparte than the simple fact, that
for twenty years his life and the history of Europe are
convertible terms. During the whole of that time, the
annals of the smallest European state would be abso-
lutely unintelligible without a clear view of the policy
and character of the French Emperor ; and, on the
other hand, every change of rulers in the pettiest prri
i:>a!ity every intrigue at Peter** burg or
30 MAI'OLKoN lU'.N APAKTE.
every motion in the British Parliament was of ill*
mediate and vital concern to Napoleon. This is more
than can be said of any other conqueror or statesman
in modern times. The direct influence of Louis. Fred-
erick, aud Catherine, was comparatively limited. A
Russian or a Turk cared little for the invasion of llol-
land or the Spanish succession ; and an Italian was
comparatively indifferent to the conquest of Silesia ot
the division of Poland. But no such supineness pre-
vailed during the wars of the French empire. Wher-
ever the great conqueror was engaged, the breathless
attention of all Europe was fixed. Every citizen of
every state felt his hopes or his fortunes raised or de-
pressed by the event. The death of an English minis
ter was hastened by the battle of Marengo ; the treaty
of Tilsit was felt as an object of interest in the deserts
of central Asia ; the battle of Leipsic roused or para-
lysed every European from Cadiz to the North Cape.
The French empire, in a word, resembled the tails
manic globe of the sorcerers in Southey's poem of
"Thalaba," the slightest touch upon which caused the
whole universe to tremble.
In the year 1785 there died at Montpelier, in the
prime of life, a Corsican lawyer, named Charles Bona-
parte. His place of residence was the town of Ajaccio,
in his native island. As is usual in southern climates,
tie married at the early age of nineteen, having won
for his wife, from numerous competitors, the reigning
beauty of the world of Corsica, the young Lctitia Ra-
molino, who was remarkable, not only for her personal
charms, but also for the courage and fortitude of her
ybaructer. He left her a widow, still young and
BOSAJ'AKtE FAMILY. 81
beautiful, with eight children, of whom the eldest was
but seventeen years, and the youngest only three
months. Six others had died in infancy. Left in
somewhat straitened circumstances, the chief reliance
of the family was in a rich old uncle, an ecclesiastic in
the Corsicau church. Two of the children, indeed, had
already, in a manner, been provided for. The eldest,
a son, had begun the study of the law. The second, a
youth of sixteen, had completed his education at the
military academies of Brienne and Paris, and had just
received, or was on the point of receiving, a sub-lieu-
tenancy of artillery in the French king's army. It was
on this young soldier, rather than on his elder brother,
that the hopes of the family were fixed. Even the
poor father's ravings on his death-bed, it is said, were
all about his absent boy, Napoleon, and a " great
sword " that he was to bequeath to him.
Sixty-seven years have elapsed since then two
generations and part of a third and what changes
have they not seen in the fortunes of the Corsican
family ! In the first, issuing from their native island,
like some band of old IJeracleidae, and pushing, with
their military brother at their head, into the midst of
a revolution that was then convulsing Europe, these
half-Italian orphans, whose dialect no one could recog-
nize, cut their way to the center of the tumult, seize the
administration, and are distributed as kings and princes
among the western nations. In the second, shattered
and thrown down as by a stroke of Apocalyptic ven-
gennce, thoy are dispersed as wanderers over the civ-
ilized \vorld, to increase their numbers, uiid form
connections everywhere. And now. again, at the
32 NAPOLEON
beginning of a third, there seems to be a gathering i
them toward the old center, as if for a new function in
regard to the future. Let us glance for a little at these
successive chapters of a most extraordinary family-
history, not yet ended.
The outbreak of the Revolution in 1789 found the
Bonapartes all living together at Ajaccio the eldest,
Joseph, in his twenty-third year, a lawyer entering into
practice ; the second, Napoleon, now twenty-one years
of age, a lieutenant of artillery on leave of absence ;
the third, Lucien, a hot-headed young man, five years
younger than Napoleon, and fresh from the college of
Autim ; the fourth, a daughter, Eliza, then in her fif-
teenth year ; next to her, Louis, a boy of twelve or
thirteen ; and lastly, the three youngest, still mere in-
fants, Pauline, Caroline, and Jerome. In the same
house with the Bonapartes, and about three years older
than Joseph, lived the Abbe Fesch, a half-brother of
Madame Bonaparte. All the family, as indeed almost
all the Corsicans at that time, were admirers of the
Revolution ; but the most fervid revolutionist of all was
Lucien, who was the juvenile prodigy of the family,
and whose speeches, delivered at the meetings of a
popular society that had been established at Ajaccio,
were the delight of the town. Joseph, older 1 and
steadier, took his part, too, in the general bustle ; while
the lieutenant amused his idleness by long walks about
the island, and by writing various essays and sketches,
among which is mentioned a History of the Revolution
of Corsica, a manuscript copy of which was forwarded
to Mirabeau.
Driven from Corsica, on account of their political
WAIT ON THE FREttott COAST,
opinions, the widow and her eight children were east,
like a waif, npon the shores of France. Madame
Bonaparte, amidst a small band of faithful followers,
marched with her young children, under the shade of
darkness, and, before daylight, reached a secluded spot
on the sea-shore, whence, from an elevation, she could
see her house ii flames. Undaunted by the sad spec-
tacle, she exciaimed, fct Never mind, we will build it up
again much better : Vive la France! " After a con-
cealment of two days and nighte in the recesses of the
woods, the fugitives were at length gladdened by the
sight of a French frigate, on board of which were Jo-
seph ani Napoleon. In this vessel the whole party at
once embarked, and as no hope remained of finding
security in Corsica, it was straightway steered for
France. Marseilles was its port of destinaiton, and
there it accordingly landed the family of exiles, desti-
tute of every vestige of property, but unbroken, it
would seem, in courage and health. Madame Bona-
parte had occasion for the exercise of all her fortitude
in these trying circumstances, for she was reduced to
almost extreme poverty, and was fain to receive with
thankfulness the rations of bread distributed by the
municipality to refugee patriots. Joseph speedily
received an appointment as a commissary of war ; and
he and Napoleon contributed to the support of the
family from their scanty allowances ; but during the
first years of their resicknee in France, these obscure
exiles, who even spoke the language of their adopted
country with difficulty, suffered all the inconveniences
of extreme penury.
Marseilles became the head-quarters of the Bona-
4 NAPOLEON BOtfAPAtttte.
parte family during the Reign of Terror. Here, from
171K3 to 1796, they were several)/ to be either seen 01
heard of Joseph, employed as a commissary of war,
living in the town, wooing, and at last (171U) "marrying
a Mademoiselle Clary, the daughter of a wealthy mer-
chant ; Napoleon, occasionally at Marseilles, but usu
ally absent in Paris, or elsewhere, already a general of
brigade, having been raised to that rank for his scrv
ices at the siege of Toulon, yet grumbling at his pov
erty and inactivity, and thinking his brother Joseph a
"lucky rogue" in having made so good a match ; Lu
cien, a young firebrand, known over the whole district
as "Brutus Bonaparte," and extremely popular as a
republican orator at Marseilles, where, in 171)5, he
married the sister of an innkeeper ; and lastly, the
five younger members of the family living with their
mother.
The fall of Robespierre and his party (July, 1794)
was u temporary blow to the fortunes of the Bonapartes,
connected as they were with that side of the Revolu-
tion. General Bonaparte was arrested, and although
afterward liberated, was still suspected and degraded.
His release was purchased by the sacrifice of his rank
in the army, and he lost all the fruits of the brilliant
reputation he had won, and was thrown an outcast
upon the world, at the age of twenty-five, ignomini-
oufily expelled from the profession in which he had
already begun to gather prospective laurels.
After his discharge from the army and from captiv-
ity, Napoleon hnd proceeded to Paris, with the view
of ciiii;ning from the new government, reparation of
the wrongs he had suffered. But all his applications
HOPES OF OKLENTAI. EMPIRE. 35
being fruitless, lie found himself iu a situation at once
most galling and deplorable ; since, to his impetuous-
spirit, the want of employment at a time when active;
service offered so many chances of distinction, must:
have been intolerable, while his destitution was such;
that he often lacked the means of procuring a dinner-
Yet his ardent imagination was even then tilled with*
reveries of the greatness he might achieve ; and it was
on an oriental field his thoughts wandered in brilliant
perspectives ; for he deemed Europe tame and sterile;
in comparison with Asia, as a theater of glorious enter--
prise, lie cherished the idea of leaving France, and
offering to the Turkish sultan the sword his country
was unworthy to possess ; but averse to go forth as *
mere adventurer, he submitted a proposition to the=
government for heading a detachment of officers to*
improve the discipline of the Ottoman forces, and pre-
pare them for a more equal encounter with the trained
soldiers of Russia. This proposition, however, was
not entertained ; and the impatient hero was compelled
to await a more propitious period to realize his scheme
of revolution and conquest in the East. To the very
end of his career his mind was full of the most roman-
tic visions of eastern grandeur ; and his magnificent
and wild imagination presents a vivid contrast to the
vigorous grasp of his intellect, the coolness of his judg-
ment, and the crystal clearness of his understanding.
The throne of Constantinople or Tlindostan was one of
the dreams of his earliest youth ; and even in the midst
of his most splendid European conquests, gorgeous
visions of palms and pagodas were seldom long absent
(TOJB las funcv. This dreum of oriental yiiijire
36 NAruLtioK HOXAI'ABTB.
the chief iucentive to his subsequent Egyptian exp
ditiou. While gating 011 the mount of Richard Cuiiu
tie Lion, previous to his repulse at Acre, lie said to
Ikmrrienne, u Yes, that miserable fort has, indeed, cost
me dear. But matters have gone too far tor me not to
make a last effort If I succeed, I shall find in that
town all the treasures of the pacha, and arms for
300,000 men. 1 shall raise and arm all Svria ; 1 shall
march on Damascus and Aleppo. Acre taken, I shall
secure Egypt 1 shall arrive at Constantinople with
armed masses, overturn the empire of the Turks, and
establish a new one in the East, which will fix my
place with posterity. And perhaps 1 may return to
Paris by Adrianople and Vienna, after having annihi-
lated the house of Austria." This circuit of Asia and
Europe, through subverted thrones and fields of battle,
only to return to Paris at last, brings to the memory
the dialogue of Pyrrhus the Epirote, with the philoso-
pher, and might be fairly ridiculed by the philoso-
phers remark " Why not go there without taking all
this trouble?" But extravagant as was the conception,
and boundless as the bloodshed and misery which must
have purchased this circuitous path to Paris and re-
nown, it evidently clung to Napoleon. When all
things else had left him, twenty years after, on the
precipices of St. Helena, he still felt the blow that the
sword of England had given to his ambition in Syria.
" Acre once taken," said he, u the French army would
have ilown to Aleppo and Damascus ; in the twinkling
of an eye it would have been on the Euphrates ; the
Christians of Syria, the .Druses, the Christians of Ar-
OiMtiitt, would have joined it ; the whole population v/f
THOUGHTS OF SUICIDJC. 37
the East would have been agitated." To the observa-
tion, that he would soon have had 100,000 men, he
replied, " Say rather 600,000. Who can calculate what
would have happened ? I should have reached Con-
stantinople and the Indies. I should have changed
the face of the world."
Big with these enthusiastic dreams of future power,
Bonaparte, poor, unemployed and unfriended, loitered
about the streets of Paris, scowling at the effeminate
dandies who pranced in the promenades on capar-
isoned horses, and lisped the praises of singers and
dancers at the opera for the metropolis of terror had
been suddenly changed to one of exaggerated gayety,
frequenting coffee-houses, theaters, gambling-houses,
and other places of amusement ; strolling in deserted
avenues, in the stillness of evenings, to indulge in pen-
sive meditations, or to beguile the weary time ; lead-
ing, in short, a life of pure vagabondism, which has its
joys in the days of youth, when the spirits are buoy
ant and hope is elastic, but which is replete with mo-
ments of remorse and anguish. In such paroxysms
of the conscience, despair is prone to seize upon the
mind, and inspire its victims with lamentable im-
pulses. So Napoleon fell under the dire temptation,
and one night started along the quays to throw him-
self from one of the bridges over the Seine. On his
way he encountered an old friend, whom he had not
seen since they were comrades of the camp, and to
whom he related the sad story of his distresses, which
affected not him only, but objects dearer to him than
himself. The friend \vas moved by the mournful tale,
and presented to the intending suicide a bag of gold,
38 NAPOLEON BONAPAKTE.
whose magic touch at once dispelled the gloomy
humors which had impelled him to his fearful purpose.
Thus rescued from an inglorious death, the teeming
era of revolutions at length summoned into conspicuous
action the desolate and wo-worn Napoleon an insur-
rection occurring in Paris, he was fortunate enough to
be chosen among the officers appointed to suppress it.
He at once assumed the direction of affairs. Instantly
he opened upon the insurgents a terrific discharge of
grape-shot, which staggered, overthrew, and routed
them. The battle was neither long nor obstinate ; the
insurgents could make no head against the tempest of
oalls vomited against them by their pitiless and scien-
tific enemy. The conqueror in the broil was hailed
with acclamations by the grateful Assembly, and in
reward of his services he was nominated to be General
of the Army of the Interior. By this achievement he
saved the Revolution, for had the insurgents been
triumphant, the restoration of the Bourbons would
have been the almost inevitable result. Henceforth he
became of paramount importance in the convulsed
community : the reduction of Toulon had first fixed
upon him the attention which was requisite to encour-
age confidence in his superiority ; the repulse of the
insurgents in October, 1795, showed him resolute and
indomitable in conflict, and stamped upon him the
eeal of predominance, although cemented in the gore
of fellow-countrymen and citizens.
It is thus that opportunity only is wanting to men
of real genius and capacity, to make manifest the
qualities within them, and assure them of a commanding
position among their fellow men. This Napoleon had
JOSEPHLNK. 39
gained, and straightway the path of fortune was wide
and smooth before him. Happy accidents almost
poured upon him, and none was more singularly au-
spicious than that which introduced him to a wife.
One day he was applied to by a boy not more than
ten years of age, for the restoration of his father's
sword, which had been seized in the general search,
although its owner was long since dead. The ingenu-
ous earnestness of the youth pleaded in his favor,
and Napoleon restored him the sword ; but he was
induced to ask the circumstances of the family to
which he belonged. His father, Alexander de Beau-
narnais, had commanded one of the armies of the
republic, but had lost his head in the Reign of Ter-
ror ; his mother, Josephine, still survived, having nar-
rowly escaped the same fate by the fortunate overthrow
of Robespierre within a few hours of her intended
execution. . She was a native of Martinique, and was
enveloped in a strauge interest, from the remarkable
prophecies that had been made concerning her. In
one of these, delivered by an old negress, she herself
put faith, with the superstition natural to her clime ;
and so far, in truth, the prediction had been verified
It was said that she should witness the death of her
first husband, be plunged into the deepest misery, but
ultimately be raised above the estate of a queen. But
whatever might be the fabled destinies in store for her,
it was upon more rational expectations that Napoleon
sought and won her hand. She was recommended to
him b} the inimitable graces of her person and man-
ners, which were fascinating in a superlative degree,
and probably also bv c.onsid orations of a somewhat
40 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
grosser nature. Society was very dissolute at tLis
period ; she had heretofore enjoyed an intimacy with
JBarras, which gave her great influence over him ; and
this personage now possessed almost supreme power.
Hence, his favor was of material consequence, espe-
cially in the distribution of military commands ; and
as Napoleon aspired to the very highest and most im-
portant in the service of the republic, it was politic in
him to strengthen his pretensions by an alliance forti-
fied with the most cogent and persuasive ties.
At Josephine's house Bonaparte was wont to meet
a small, but valuable circle, composed of those who,
while they favored his suit, were able likewise to pro-
mote his interests, as soon as these should become
united with the fortunes of her whom he loved. On
her part Josephine was distinctly promised by Barras,
that if she would accede to the arrangement, Bonaparte
should be appointed to the command of the army in
Italy. In a letter to a friend, explaining her motives
for marrying Bonaparte, she mentions this circum-
stance, and says : " Yesterday, Bonaparte, speaking of
this favor, which already excites murmuring among his
fellow-soldiers, though it be as yet only a promise, said
to me, ' Think they then I have need of their protec-
tion to arrive at power ? Egregious mistake ! They
will all be but too happy one day should I condescend
to grant them mine. My sword is by my side, and
with it I will go far ! ' What say you to this security
of success ? Is it not a proof of confidence springing
fro; 11 an excess of vanity? A general of brigade pro-
tect the head of government ! that, truly, is an event
highly probable I I know not how it is, but sometimes
MAKRIAGE OF BONAPABTB. 41
this waywardness gains upon me to such a degree,
that almost 1 believe possible whatever this singular
man may take into his head to attempt ; and with
his imagination, who can calculate what he will not
undertake ? "
Truly might Josephine, in bitterness of soul, accuse
Bonaparte of being an ingrate, who afterward sacri-
ficed her by whom he had risen. She probably did
not marry Bonaparte from attachment : a desire to
provide a protector for her daughter, a guide for her
son, were her own motives ; the representations of her
friends accomplished the rest. Time, and experience
of those fascinations which she herself described as
nnequaled, ripened the grateful feelings of a mother's
heart into a love and admiration which, for uncom
plaining self-devotedness, in the most painful of all
sacrifices, stands pre-eminent in the sad story of
unrequited affection.
"Where passion prompted and ambition urged, Bona-
parte was not the man to fail. His nuptials with Jose-
phine were solemnized, according to the revolutionary
forms, by the appearance of the contracting parties
before the civil magistrate, March 9, 1796. Josephine
was then thirty -three years of age, and Napoleon
twenty-seven she having been born June 23, 1763,
and he August 15, 1769. On the registry of the
marriage, however, Josephine's birth is placed in 1767.
The four years thus deducted from her real age must
be assigned either to mistake, or, not improbably, to
roluntary forgetfulness. The births of the children of
her first marriage, are decisive on this point Eugene
having been born September 3, 1780, and Hortense
42 NAPOLEON BONAPABTB.
April 10, 1783 ; but so little attention was paid tc
consistency, that according to the registry of her mar-
riage with Bonaparte, she must have beon a mother at
a little more than the age of ten years. It is deserv-
ing of notice also, as something like a mutual abnega-
tion of curious inquiry on this head, that in the same
instrument a year is added to Napoleon's age.
From her earliest years, Josephine appears to have
displayed those excellencies of character, and that ele-
gance of demeanor, which, amid some frivolities,
render her so amiable in every change of her check-
ered life, and enabled her, in gentleness, yet not with-
out dignity, to maintain an influence over a spirit so
differently constituted from her own. From a child,
opening beauty and sprightliness, united with perfect
good nature, rendered her the delight of her own cir-
cle. She played on the harp and sang with exquisite
feeling. Her dancing is said to have been perfect.
An eye-witness describes her light form, rising scarcely
above the middle size, as seeming in its faultless sym-
metry, to float rather than to move the very person-
ation of grace. She exercised her pencil and her
needle and embroidering frame with beautiful ad-
dress. " A love of flowers," that truly feminine aspi-
ration, and, according to a master in elegance and
virtue, infallible index of purity of heart, was with her
no uninstructed admiration. She had early cultivated
a knowledge of botany, a study of all others especially
adapted to the female mind, which exercises without
fatiguing the understanding, and leads the thoughts to
hold converse with heaven through the sweetest objects
of earth. To the Empress Josephine, France and
OHABAOTEB OF JOSEPHINE. 43
Europe are indebted for one of the most beautiful of
vegetable productions the camelia. In all to which
the empire of woman's taste rightly extends, hers was
exquisitely just, and simple as it was refined. Her
sense of the becoming and the proper in all things,
and under every variety of circumstances, appeared
native and intuitive. She read delightfully ; and na-
ture had been here peculiarly propitious : for so har-
monious were the tones of her voice, even in the most
ordinary conversation, that instances are common of
those who, coming unexpectedly and unseen within
their influence, have remained as if suddenly fasci-
nated and spell-bound, till the sounds ceased, or fear
of discovery forced the listener away. Like the harp
of David on the troubled breast of Israel's king, this
charm is known to have wrought powerfully upon
Napoleon. His own admission was, "The first ap-
plause of the French people sounded to my ear sweet
as the voice of Josephine."
Barras fully redeemed the pledge to Josephine, and
only twelve days after his union with her, Bonaparte
set out for Italy as the commander-in-chief of the re*
publican army in that country. He was animated
with a fervor and self-confidence which set at naught
all impediments ; and he said joyously to his friends,
as he started, " In three months you will see me again
at Paris, or will hear of me at Milan."
It was in no idle spirit that he spoke these words :
for on the desperate hazard he was prepared to stake
the future of his life, whether it should be disgrace in
failure, or empire in success. Two armies were op-
posed to him one of Piedmontese, 20,000 strong
44 HAPOLEON BONAPAKTE.
and the other of Austrians, 35,000 strong, between
which he poured with his emaciated complement of
30,000. Already, undei the revolutionary impulse,
the tactics of war had been materially changed from
the old established routine. But such changes were
trifling in comparison with those introduced by Napo-
leon Bonaparte, who struck by blows so sure and rapid,
that his enemy was overpowered before he well knew
that operations had commenced ; and campaigns which,
under the old system of even Marlborough and Frede-
rick, would have lingered for years, were decided in a
few weeks, sometimes in a few days. Thus he hurled
the Piedmontese and Austrians before him, on separate
routes of retreat, with a precipitation which annihilated
resistance: in less than two months he had fought six
battles, reduced Sardinia to sue for peace, entered
Milan in triumph, and expelled the Austrians from
Lombardy, driving them across the Adige, and into
the fastnesses of the Tyrol. Such a series of exploits,
accomplished in so short a time, wrought a boundless
amazement, and the hero of them was extolled as a
prodigy superior to all warriors of ancient or modern
fame. It was the rapidity of his achievements, rather
even than their results which dazzled the imagination,
and marked the advent of a new master in the great
"art of war. No conqueror had ever displayed such
originality of genius, such boldness of conception, such
profundity of combination, such celerity of execution;
and the sudden interest which surrounded him was in
creased by the novel grandeur of the language in which
he spoke to his soldiers, and the imperious tone ha
assumed to the potentates who held fair Italy is
BONAPARTE'S EARUY vicroBna. v
servitude. At the bare aspect of his sword, priestly
and royal dominations crouched before him; and the
proud oligarchy of Yenice sent humble intercessions to
propitiate his wrath. Yet his possession of Lombardy
was very insecure, for the house of Austria was
making prodigious exertions to wrest it from him, and
to recover that stolen jewel of its usurping crown.
Four successive armies of 60,000 men each were pushed
down the gorges of the Tyrol and across the Brenta,
under veteran leaders of exalted reputation, to dislodge
him from his central position of Yerona, and thence
dislodged, to inflict on him an inevitable ruin. Against
these he contended with a skill and energy which have
rendered his deeds in those campaigns superior in
renown to all other feats of strategy or heroism. He
himself has not surpassed them. They assured to him
the definite possession of Italy, and enabled him, in a
subsequent campaign, to cross the Noric Alps and
advance within twenty-five leagues of Yienna, where
he extorted from the Emperor the famous treaty of
Campo-Formo, which secured to France all the vast
accessions of territory she had gained from the first
outbreak of the revolutionary war. At no period of
her history had she concluded so glorious and advanta-
geous a peace; and in his double capacity of warrior
and pacificator, Napoleon was received in Paris with
an enthusiasm befitting the great services he had per-
formed.
But the time was not yet come for Bonaparte's as-
sumption of the government ; he must yet gather fresh
laurels, and the country be overwhelmed with disasters,
ere he could aspire to seize supreme authority in the
4 KAPOLEON BONAPAKTE.
republic. It was not at a period when he had raised
it to the pinnacle of greatness it would voluntarily
accept him for a sovereign ; a season of calamity was
needed to rally its hopes on him as an indispensable
instrument of salvation. His position at Paris was
irksome both to himself and to the Directory, and it
was equally the wish of both that he should forthwith
betake himself again to active employment. The
Directory was anxious to invade England or Ireland.
But Napoleon had a different project of his own,
which was more agreeable to those early fancies he had
so fondly indulged ; and he had not completed his
conquest of Italy before he cast his eyes on Egypt, as
the next theater of his ardent powers. In Egypt he
saw the commencement of his visionary subjugation
of Asia, or his dethronement of the Ottoman sultan,
and an expedition to conquer it was sufficiently plausi-
ble to be defended on the ground of interest to France.
The possession of Malta and Egypt was a prodigious
step toward that grand traditionary scheme of ren-
dering the Mediterranean a French lake, while, by
opening the readiest route to India, it facilitated the
destruction of England in a more certain manner than
by direct invasion. Upon these arguments he main-
tained the superior merits of his project, and the
Directory was fain to yield to them a reluctant acqui-
escence. There was just sufficient of national advantage
in it to cloak his personal desires, to which at all times
of his life he was ready to sacrifice every other consid-
eration. He embarked, therefore, on his extravagant
but magnificent enterprise, accompanied by 4he largest
naval and military armament that had ever crossed a
WAPOLKON IN EGYPT. 47
iride expanse of gea ; and before the aim of iis expe-
dition was known to the world, had planted the repub-
lican banner on the impregnable ramparts of Malta,
the ruined towers of Alexandria, and the glittering
minarets of the city of the Caliphs. The battles of the
Pyramids and Mount Tabor, fought on fields of such
imperishable and hallowed recollection, shed a luster
on the French arms, which was all the brighter for the
distance it traveled for the unknown regions that had
witnessed them. The French were in raptures at the
tidings, for the predominant idea of their Revolution
had become military glory and conquest, to the exclu-
sion of all earlier views touching liberty and frater-
nity ; and the reverses they were sustaining in Europe
gave to them a character of peculiar consolation. The
Directory was composed of vulgar and violent men,
who displayed an insatiable wickedness in aggressions
on the neighbors of France, and who outraged every
law in the gratification of its lustful passions. Soon,
its detestable usurpation drew upon it the indignation
of combined Europe, and its desolating armies were
driven back with infamy into the confines of France
itself. But for the inveterate cupidity of Austria, and
the astounding imbecility of England, the republic
must have been overthrown at that time ; as it was, it
was reduced to a state of depression and misery unex-
ampled among the retributions that have been visited
on the sins of the nations. In this dismal crisis, all
eyes reverted to the indomitable hero who had already
elevated France to such a pitch of grandeur, from
which she had fallen the moment his sword was with-
drawn, and who alone still upheld the. fame of ket
4:8 NAPOLEON BONAPABTK.
victorious flag ; when, at the critical moment, the de-
sired leader appeared, and converted the gloom of hie
disconsolate countrymen into the joy of an anticipated
deliverance.
Never was a country so ripe to receive a mastei
fitted to curb its licentious factions and to restore its
vitality, as France in the latter part of 1799. For ten
years, she had been engaged in a career of revolution,
and at the end of that time, her fervent prayer was
for the institution of a despotism, to relieve her from
the greater horrors of anarchy and social dissolution.
The master she required in her necessities she found
in the person to whom her hopes had instinctively
turned in Napoleon Bonaparte, whose absence she
had deplored and his return invoked. On the 9th of
November, the revolution of the 18th Brumaire, the
last of the prolific series since 1790, constituted him
First Consul of the French republic, with an almost
absolute executive authority. His brother Lucien was
of great assistance in accomplishing this object, dis-
playing, in his capacity of President of the Council of
Five Hundred, a firmness and courage which secured
the success of the project when almost on the point of
failure. Two subordinate consuls were at the same
time created ; but all the chief appointments were
vested in the First Consul, who had consequently
abundant means of rewarding his friends and parti-
sans. The policy he pursued was the beneficent one
of amalgamating parties and interests, and of substi-
tuting for the violent system of preceding governments
one of conciliation and clemency. The measures he
took for the restoration of order and tranquillity were
THE FIKST CONSUL. 49
singularly judicious and effective, and, in a short time,
he wrought an incredible change in the condition of
FraDce, which joyfully threw herself into his arms, re-
posing confidently on his superior intelligence and
capacity. But internal ameliorations were of second-
ary importance to the still greater object of delivering
France from the pressure of foreign enemies, and to
this Napoleon directed his unremitting energies. His
overtures for peace being contemptuously rejected by
the inflated governments of England and Austria, he
prepared to strike a blow, which, by its force and sud-
denness, should confound them, and annihilate their
pretensions.
With an army, of whose very existence they were
profoundly ignorant, he crossed the great chains of the
Alps, and debouched into the plains of Italy, directly
on the rear of the Austrians, who were beyond the
Appenines, contemplating an immediate invasion of
Provence. These, precipitately retrograding, to regain
their communications, he encountered and vanquished
on the memorable field of Marengo, through which
event he again became, in the course of a few days
complete master of the whole of Italy. Austria was
smitten to the heart by so unlooked-for and miraculous
a disaster, and she sent an envoy with plaintive propo-
sitions to treat of peace. But England strove to revive
her palsied courage by dint of replenished subsidies,
and she was induced, with desperate resolution, to try
the fortunes of another campaign. This proved equally
calamitous, and nothing remained for her but to submit
to the will of the conqueror she had unwisely defied.
At LunevUle, accordingly, on the 9th of February,
50 NAPOLEON EOJS'APARTK.
1801, she signed a treaty infinitely more disadvaa
tageous to her than that of Campo-Formo, and on
which assured to France an aggrandizement wholly
inconsistent with the old balance of power in Europe
Nevertheless, to this sad termination of all her strug-
gles against the Revolution, England herself wag
reduced to accede: placed in a melancholy isolation
against the power of the colossal republic, she, too,
succumbed, and concluded a treaty at Amiens, in
March, 1802, in order to gain at least a temporary
respite from the afflictions of war. Thus did Napoleon
lift France, from an abyss of degradation, to the very
highest rank among the nations of the earth ; and
while he endowed her with this envied supremacy,
healed the festering sores of her internal maladies,
and conferred on her a peace and prosperity she had
never known since she embarked in her wild crusade
against kings, nobles, and priests. Commensurate was
the gratitude of her enraptured people, who were ready
to testify it by any inordinate expression agreeable to
the ambition of their benefactor and idol.
During the short interval between the 18th Brumaire
and the peace of Amiens, Napoleon appears clothed
with a majesty and glory which throws far into the
shade the luster of monarchs cradled in royalty. Not
only did he beat to pieces the formidable coalition ar-
rayed to extinguish France, but all his conduct in this
happy era of his life was marked by a wisdom and be-
neficence which stands in dazzling contrast with the
folly and iniquities of his subsequent career. In 1,
restoration of religion alone, against the most invetr
prejudice confirm^ ift the course of the Revolution, hg
A&BOGANCE OF NAPOLEON. 51
rendered to a benighted land the greatest good it
could receive, and the indispensable guardian of society,
but which it would certainly not have accepted from
any hands save his alone. Yet rarely has the intoxica-
tion of power been so quick and overwhelming in its
corruption of the mind and the understanding, as in
the instance of this extraordinary individual. He
almost straightway became the slave of passions that
grew in their evil intensity with every gratification
which ted them, until they reached a height which
overmastered his reason and transformed him into the
very curse of humanity. The arrogance of the language
he habitually used toward foreign courts particu-
larly the British, which he thoroughly despised was
altogether insufferable ; while he recklessly seized
upon dominions that opposed him, regardless of all
guarantees imposed by either good faith, policy, or
public law. Hence he rendered relations of peace im
possible with him, unless on the part of miserable
trucklers like the king of Prussia.
Encouraged by the admiration and homage of the
tfhole nation of Frenchmen, he constituted himself
their Emperor; and amidst an adulation exceeding the
abjectness of degenerate Greeks, established an empire
unmatched for the rigor of its despotism and the splen-
dor of its emblazonries. To consecrate this culminating
phase of the Revolution, he summoned to Paris the
head of the Catholic church, and exhibited to the as-
tonished universe the spectacle of a pope anointing in
Notre-Dame the plebeian but august warrior, who had
the papacy shorn of the territorial grandeur it nad
labored so hard in by-gone ages to secure.
52 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE.
Among all the vices of Napoleon's charaster, ic
cannot assuredly be charged with want of affection for
las family, since he displayed toward those connected
with him an attachment and regard which was often
detrimental to him. His wife, Josephine, was particu-
larly dear to him, although her conduct on many occa-
sions was not altogether blameless. His letters to
her at every period of their union, are replete with
expressions of the warmest devotion ; and if at any
time she seemed to disregard his wishes, it was through
a wayward levity, which left her scarcely mistress of
herself. He was supremely fond of her society. That
she had borne him no children was a subject of incon
solable regret, but he cheribiied those of her former
husband as if they were his own. Both of them
possessed in an eminent degree the attractive qualities
of their mother ; and Napoleon heaped upon them con-
tinual evidences of his affection. Eugene had acted
as his aid-de-camp, both in Italy and in Egypt ; at
Marengo, he had commanded a brigade of the Guard ;
in 1804, he was made an imperial prince and arch-
chancellor of state ; in 1805, immediately after Na-
poleon's coronation at Milan, he was nominated viceroy
of Italy, and subsequently, Prince of Venice, and heir
of the Lombardo-Venetian crown. Hortense was de-
signed by Napoleon to be given in marriage to his
favorite aid-de-camp, Duroc, whose handsome person
and gallant bearing had already won her girlish admi-
ration. But Josephine artfully opposed this arrange-
ment, from a natural anxiety she labored under of
drawing still closer the ties that united her with her
husband j for her barrenness had already become the
MAKRIAOF, OF I/>UI8 AND HOBTKN8E. 58
theme of opprobrium on the part of Joseph and La-
den, who labored assiduously with their brother to im-
press upon him the expediency of a divorce. On this
account, she was intent to bring about a marriage
between Louis Bonaparte and Hortense, through which
she hoped to defeat the insidious suggestions of her
enemies. But serious obstacles stood in the way of
her accomplishing her design ; for the young couple
had an absolute antipathy toward each other, and
both were actually in love with other parties. Louis
had become enamored of Josephine's niece Louise-
Emilie, daughter of Francis, Marquis de Beauharnais,
her first husband's elder brother without, however,
engaging the young lady's affections in return. Louis,
whose character was naturally of a pensive cast, took
his disappointment grievously to heart ; and, joined
to an infirm state of health, it produced in him a
melancholy which preyed on him all the remainder of
his life. He never ceased to mourn the loss he had
sustained ; and when the proposition of a union with
Hortense was made to him, he recoiled from it with
abhorrence. He resisted all persuasions with a settled
determination ; and it was only by much skillful
maneuvering that Josephine at length succeeded in
extorting his consent. She had wrung from her
daughter, too, an unwilling acquiescence ; and on the
4th of January, 1802, the ill-assorted knot was tied
the gloomy countenances of the affianced belying the
factitious joy of the courtly retinue that graced their
inauspicious nuptials.
"' Without connubial Juno's aid they wed :
Nor Hymen nor the Graces bless the bed I "
54 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
" Never," exclaims Louis, in a tone of anguish, " was
there a more gloomy ceremony ? Never had husband
and wife a stronger presentiment of the horrors of a
reluctant and ill-assorted union!" Louis was then
twenty-four, and Hortense about eighteen. From this
he dates the commencement of his unhappiness, his
bodily and mental sufferings. It stamped on his whole
existence a profound melancholy, a dejection, a drying
of the heart, which, he adds, " nothing ever could, or
ever will remedy." As for Hortense, who had only
left Madame Campan's boarding-school a few weeks
before the wedding, a lady who was present at a ball
given in honor of it by Madame de Montesson, states,
that "every countenance beamed with satisfaction,
save that of the bride, whose profound melancholy
formed a sad contrast to the happiness which she
might have been expected to evince : she seemed to
shun her husband's very looks, lest he should read in
hers the indifference she felt toward him. Covered
with diamonds and flowers, she appeared insensible to
every thing save regret. From that day, sorrow might
easily have been augured from a marriage where the
contracting parties were so little agreeable to each
other."
The correspondence between Duroc and Hortense,
had been so long and so openly conducted, as to be
known to several members of the consular household.
The moral character of Hortense was scarcely above
reproach. Although married to Louis at the early age
of eighteen, she is said to have had two children
before her union with him, one of whom died in in-
fancy, and the other is Ptill living and holding an office
JOSEPHINE TC HOKTENSE. 55
of considerable dignity under the French government.
Fouch6 even goes so far as to intimate that the
object of the alliance was to throw a vail over an al-
ready existing intimacy between Napoleon and hia
step-daughter. Certain it is, that Josephine knew of
these allegations, so injurious to her honor and her
peace. From the following letter, indeed, written long
afterward, it not only appears that she was well aware
of them, but that Hortense, in one to which this is the
answer, had accused her mother of being opposed to
the separation from Louis, as giving credit to the
reports of having a rival in her daughter.
JOSEPHINE TO HORTENSE.
" You have ill-understood me, my child ; there is
nothing equivocal in my words, as there cannot exist
an uncaudid sentiment in my heart. How could you
conceive that I participate in some ridiculous, or per-
haps, malicious opinions ? No I you do not think that
I believe you to be my rival. We, indeed, both reign
in the same bosom, though by very different, yet
equally sacred rights ; and they who, in the affection
which my husband manifests for you, have pretended
to discover other sentiments than those of a parent and
a friend, know not his soul. His is a mind too ele-
vated above the vulgar ever to be accessible to the pas-
sions. That of glory, if you will, engrosses him too
entirely for our repose ; but, at least, glory inspires
nothing vile. Such, as touching him, is my profession
of faith. I make the confession to you in all sincerity,
in order to allay your inquietudes. When I recom-
mended to you to love, or, at least, not to repulse Louis,
I spoke to you in my character of an experienced wife,
an attentive mother, and tender friend, and in thia
threefold relation do I now embrace vn."
On the accession of Napoleon to uie imperial diw-
nity, (18th May, 1804,) it became of paramount
56 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE,
importance with the founder of the dynasty, to decide
how and by whom it should be perpetuated. He hml
himself no offspring, and therefore must choose a col-
lateral heir. The imperial crown was settled on his
male descendants these failing, on those of Joseph,
and next, on those of Louis. The exclusion of Lucien
and Jerome, shows that they were not in such favor
with the Emperor as the other two brothers. When the
decree was referred for ratification to the French peo-
ple, (27th November, 1804,) 3,521,675 affirmative, and
only 2,579 negative votes were recorded.
Having thus settled the foundations of his empire,
as he deemed, on an imperishable basis, the warlike
Corsican prepared to wage battle against the confeder-
ated powers of Europe, and exalt his greatness to a yet
more colossal height : and, in truth, the armies of the
continent were extinguished by him with a facility
which might well inflate him with notions of his om-
nipotence on earth. At Ulm and Austerlitz he pros-
trated the Austrian empire ; at Jena he dissolved in a
day the accumulated dominion of Frederick and the
house of Brandenburg ; at Friedland he annihilated
the martial host of barbaric Russia ; at Tilsit he bound
the successor of the savage Romanzoffs captive to his
chariot, and whirled him to the precipice on which he
had well-nigh met his ruin. Then supreme dominator
of the potentates he suffered to reign in corners of
their former territories, he trod upon their necks with
a pride and insolence wholly unparalleled. From Na-
ples he expelled the hostile race of Bourbons, and
placed on its throne his brother Joseph ; in Holland
he planted Louis as king; tud at Cassel, across the
TKE FAiilLl OF KINGS. 57
Rhine, over a heterogeneous compound called the
kingdom of Westphalia, he fixed Jerome as a mon
arch. Caroline he gratified by making her husband
Grand-Duke of Berg, constituting him a sovereign over
300,000 wretched Germans. This system of vassal-
fiefs he completed by the confederation of the Rhine,
in which he enrolled the second-class powers of Ger-
many as his immediate dependents such as Saxony,
Bavaria, and Wurtemburg, whose reigning princes he
created kings. Thus he obliterated the ancient Ger-
man empire, and absorbed the greatest part of it
within the folds of his exorbitant ascendancy. But
even such aggrandizements were insufficient to appease
the devouring lusts of his heart. He must needs form
alliances with sovereign houses. Accordingly, he
united his adopted son Eugene to the eldest daughter
of the king of Bavaria ; and having compelled Jerome
to discard his fair American, he extorted from the re-
luctant king of Wurtemburg his daughter Catharine
as a wife for his graceless majesty of Westphalia. A
niece of the Empress Josephine, Stephanie de Beau-
harnais, he married to the hereditary prince of Baden ;
while another niece, the beautiful Mademoiselle de
Tascher, being created a French princess for the occa-
sion, was given in wedlock to the young heir of the
house of Arembnrg. By these courtly alliances he
thought to consolidate his sway, to extend the ramifi-
cations of his influence, and to have the obscurity
of his origin forgotten. It is melancholy that so
witless a conceit, and so poor a vanity, should have
overmastered one of the mightiest of human under-
standings ! Upon all these distributions and alliancei
NAPOLEON BONAPABTE.
of her sons and daughters, the venerable Madame
Laetitia is said to have looked with a calm and only
half-believing eye, living quietly at Paris, and care-
fully economizing her income. " Who knowe," she is
reported to have said, " but I may have to keep all
those kings and q ueens one day I "
When, to the facts above enumerated, we add tha
Prussia and Austria were servile through defeat, tha
Sweden was governed by the Frenchman Bernadotte, a
relative of the Bonapartes, that Kussia was acquiescent,
and that only Great Britain was stubborn and irrecon-
cilable, we shall have an idea of the distance that
Napoleon had advanced in the path to universal em-
pire. To secure what had already been attained, to
put all else within his grasp, and to give to the work
of las life that roundness and finish that he wished it
to have in the eyes of posterity, only one thing further
seemed necessary his own marriage, namely, with n.
princess of the house of Austria. By such a measure,
it seemed, two things would be accomplished the
East of Europe would be permanently linked with the
West, forming a confederacy so vast in the body, that
mere extremities like Russia, Sweden, and Great
Britain, would be forced to give in to it ; and the tri-
umphant work of modern genius would be guararteed
in a manner satisfactory to the spirit of progressive
civilization, by being grafted on the gnarled stock of
the whole European past. By such calculations of a
moral algebra, did Napoleon reconcile himself to these
two important steps in his life his divorce from the
Empress Josephine, registered the 10th of December,
J.809 j and bj. marriage with the Archduchess Mari*
WATEBLOO. 69
Louisa, daughter of Francis IL To consummate all
his expectations from this marriage, only one thing
remained to be desired the birth of a son. In this
also his wishes were satisfied ; and on the 20th of
March, 1811. the booming of a hundred and one guns
over Paris proclaimed the birth of a King of Rome.
At his christening, a few days afterward, the imperial
child received the name of Napoleon-Francois.
But the star of Napoleon had reached its zenith.
The disastrous invasion of Russia, followed by the mem-
orable campaigns of 1813-14, laid the work of years
in ruins ; the entry of the allied armies into Paris,
31st March, 1814, was the crowning stroke of misfor-
tune ; and on the 4th of April was signed the famous
act whereby Napoleon unconditionally abdicated, for
himself and his heirs, the empire he had so long held.
Eetaining the imperial title, and receiving from
France, as a tribute for his past services, an annual
revenue of six millions of francs, ($1,200,000,) the con-
queror was to be shut up for the rest of his days,
splendid European relie, in the little island of Elba.
For ten months he endured the captivity, the assem-
bled diplomatists of Europe, meanwhile, re-arranging at
Vienna, the chaos that he had left behind him ; but at
length the old spirit prevailed in him ; France again
contained the Emperor ; Louis X TILL fled ; and the
fluttered diplomatists, kicking over the teible at which
they had been sitting, had to postpone further proceed-
ings till they should again have caged their imperial
bird. But the struggle was short ; the last hopes of
Napoleon were crushed on the field of Waterloo ; and
a few months more saw him confined to the distant
60 NAPOLEON bONAPABTE.
and solitary rock, where, May 5th, 1821, he closed
his extraordinary career.
From the first, Louis and Hortense pretended to no
regard for each other, and from the date of their mar-
riage, in January, 1802, to that of their final sepa-
ration, in September, 1807, they were not together
more than four months in the whole, and that at three
wide intervals. As soon as the political necessities
that had kept them together, ceased to exist, they
separated by mutual consent. Hortense went to Paris,
where she resided in great splendor at court, and
where her third son, the subject of this memoir,
was born, April 20, 1808. Napoleon Charles, the first
son of Louis and Hortense, was born October 10th,
1802, and Napoleon Louis, ^>e second, October 11,
1804. Charles Louis Napoleon, (or, as he now calls
himself, Louis Napoleon,) was the first prince of the
family born after Napoleon had assumed the title of
Emperor, and his birth was celebrated in the most
magnificent manner. Salvos of artillery announced
along the whole line of the " grande armee" through-
out the vast extent of the empire, that another heir to
the imperial scepter was born. France was at that
time in the apogee of its grandeur. The genius of
Bonaparte was reorganizing Europe, and, in order to
give to his power on the continent an appearance oi
predominance, the Emperor received with joy the new-
born male heir to his political fortunes. At this su-
perb epoch, his divorce from Josephine had not been
seriously contemplated. His nephews were, therefore,
considered by him as the future continuators of his
projects, name and power. Napoleon Charles, had
DEATH OF PBDS'CE NAPOLEC.N CHARLES. 61
evinced, from earliest infancy, the happiest disposi-
tions, and had gained, in an astonishing manner, upon
the affections and hopes of his uncle. He was, besides,
the first-born ; and except his two brothers, the only
acknowledged son of the imperial family in direct
male lineage ; his father was the Emperor's favorite
brother, and his birth drew more closely the ties which
united his wife and her children to the affections of
Napoleon. There appears, therefore, no reason for
discrediting the belief then generally entertained of
the Emperor's intention to adopt the child. Thus, in
the offspring of her daughter, Josephine would have
given a successor to the throne of France, and, as has
been remarked by a French writer, " her own sorrows,
perhaps all the evils that followed, might have been
prevented."
The boy upon whom the destinies of so great an em-
pire may thus be said to have rested, died at the Hague,
(1807) after a few hours' illness, of the croup. So sud-
den and fatal was the attack, that before Corvisart's
directions could be received, which, from his knowl-
edge of the complaint, might have proved effectual,
the child had ceased to live.* Hortense never quitted
the room for an inetant. When all was over, her
attendants endeavored gently to wile her from the
apartment : but divining their purpose, even in the
distraction of grief, she clung with such convulsive
grasp to a sofa by the bed of her child, that her arms
could not be unfolded, and she was carried out in this
condition. For hours the most alarming apprehensions
Oorvisart. Napoleon's private physician, was the first who mad
successful researches on this disease.
62 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
were entertained for the queen's life. In vain were
remedies applied ; her eyes continued fixed and
without a tear, her breathing oppressed, and her limbs
rigid and motionless, till one of the chamberlains,
bearing in the dead body of the little prince, laid it on
the mother's knees, leaving the rest to nature. The
sight of her son, now shrouded in the peaceful attire of
the grave, recalled the unhappy Hortense to a more
present and tender sentiment of her loss ; she caught
the inanimate form to her bosom, and despair yielded
to the sweet agony of tears.
To Josephine this loss was irremediable ; hers was
a grief not less acute, yet greater than a mother's
sorrow ; for while she grieved for a beloved child, she
trembled to think what might be the consequence to
herself. Naturally fond of children, she had loved the
young Napoleon Charles with a tenderness corre-
sponding to the hopes concentrated on his head. After
receiving intelligence of a bereavement which had
reached her, before she had perfect knowledge that the
blow was menaced, she shut herself up for three days,
weeping bitterly ; and, as if to nourish grief, collecting
around her his portrait, his hair, his playthings, -
every relic that might recall the image of her grandson.
A melancholy coincidence added to the poignancy of
her sorrow on the sight of the portrait. Some time
before setting out for the campaign of Tilsit, the Em-
peror had held a review of the guard, and, on retiring
to his apartments in the Tuileries, had, according to
custom, flung his sword on one Beat and his hat on
another, continuing to walk through the saloon in
conversation with Josephine. Meanwhile, the child
AVBGDOTE* OF NAPOLEON CKAKLE8. 63
had entered unobserved, and, putting the sword-belt
over his little neck, and the hat upon his head, began
to follow behind his uncle with military step, attempt-
ing, at the- same time, to whistle a favorite march.
Napoleon turned round, took the boy in his arms, and
kissed him fondly, saying, " See, Josephine, what a
charming picture!" The empress, ever studious to
gratify her husband, had the young prince painted in
this costume by Gerard. The portrait was sent to St.
Cloud on the very morning which brought the sad
intelligence of the death of the original.
The boy was very like his father, and, consequently,
bore a strong resemblance to the Emperor. His hair
was fair, his eyes blue, and his countenance marked
with extraordinary intelligence. He was likewise ex-
tremely fond of his uncle, who, in turn, doted upon
him as if he had been his own child. One morning,
when silently making his way through the saloon,
amid a crowd of distinguished personages, Murat, then
Grand-Duke of Berg, caught him in his arms. " What !
Napoleon, not bid me good morning ! " " No," said
the child, disengaging himself, " not before my uncle
the Emperor" In like manner, every thing he re-
ceived from his uncle was preferred to all others
King Louis, who loved him tenderly, seeing he disre-
garded some new playthings he had just brought him,
said, " Why, my dear child, look how very ugly the
old ones are ! " " Ah ! yes, papa, but I got them from
my uncle."
What chiefly delighted Napoleon was, the firmness
of character, and, if the desires of the child may be
so termed, the predilection for war displayed by hii
64: NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.
intended heir. Often, in their amusements, the Em-
peror would put these qualities to curious but severe
tests. At breakfast, he would seat him upon his knee,
making the poor little fellow taste of such things as
are usually most annoying to cnildren ; the spirited
boy would try to look stern, but never refused to take
what was offered, though spite and vexation were
painted on every feature of his really beautiful coun-
tenance. Strawberries (and it is curious that the fruit
produced similar effects on Maria Louisa's son) always
brought on severe indisposition. Though a favorite
dish, they were, of course, strictly prohibited ; but one
day the prince had so wrought upon his nurse, that
she permitted him to eat a large quantity. The usual
consequence ensued ; he was attacked by sickness and
vomiting. Hortense insisted on knowing who had dis-
obeyed her orders. " Mamma," said the courageous
boy, though still suffering, " you may punish me, but I
gave my word not to tell, and I will never break my
promise." An affecting circumstance is the solicitude
shown by this singular child in his parents' misunder-
standings ; on observing their estrangement, he would
take his father's hand, who thus suffered himself to be
conducted to the queen, and the artless pleadings of
their son rarely failed to' reconcile two beings possess
ing great goodness of heart, but both suffering from
the not uncommon calamity in married life of misun-
derstanding each other's feelings.
The most brilliant honors and the solemnity of public
rejoicings attended the birth of Louis Napoleon. A
family register for the children of the imperial dynasty
was deposited in the senate, as the great book of the
PRINCE LOUIS NAPOLEON. 65
right of succession. The name of the new prince was
there inscribed with much pomp. The King of Rome
was the second and only one after him. The former
was baptized in 1811, at the palace of Fontainbleau.
The prince, Charles Louis Napoleon, third son of
Louis Bonaparte and Queen Hortense, was a child
greatly beloved by the Emperor, who was accustomed
to draw amusements from, and find recreation in, his
innocent prattle ; it often served as a distraction in the
midst of those weighty cares and meditations which
constantly occupied his mind. Napoleon gave to his
family nothing but the brief season of his repasts. He
breakfasted in his cabinet, and alone, at a small table,
which no one except the two sons of the king of Hol-
land ever shared. He would often send for them in
order to inform himself of the progress of their
studies, and to watch the development of the ideas of
the two princes, upon whom rested the hopes of his
future. He questioned them with interest, amused
himself with their innocent conversation, and always
made them recite fables of his own selection, of which
he gave them explanations, and afterward asked them
for an account, as an exercise of their young under-
standings. Their progress was one of the greatest
sources of his satisfaction and delight.
On his return from Elba, he saw the children again,
with renewed pleasure, and his happiness at their
health and progress, was the greater, because he had
been then deprived of his own son, who was in Vienna.*
His nephews appeared to fill his'place in Napoleon's
. affections. He was desirous that they should be con-
stantly near him, and under his own eyes. At that
66 NAPOLEON BONAPABTE.
time Prince Louis Napoleon was seven years old. One
day, the eve of the Emperor's departure for the fatal
campaign of Waterloo, Napoleon had just entered his
cabinet ; he appeared anxious and sad, and the brevity
and sharpness of his words revealed the deep and
engrossing thoughts which occupied his mind. Sud-
denly a young boy slipped into the apartment and
approached the Emperor ; his whole countenance waa
impressed with an air of sorrow, and his whole pro-
ceedings gave evidence that he was under the influ-'
ence of some deep emotion, which he was endeavoring
to restrain. The child, having approached, threw him-
self on his knees before the Emperor, hid his head in
nis lap, and clasped his legs with his arms, and then
his tears began to flow in abundance. "What aila
you, Louis?" cried the Emperor, in a tone which indi-
cated his annoyance at the interruption. " Why have
you come? For what are you crying?" The child,
frightened by his manner, could only reply by sobs.
Having, however, by degrees recovered confidence and
become calm, he at last said, with a sweet, but melan-
choly voice "Sire, my governess has just told me
that you are about to set out for the war 1 Oh ! do not
go! do not go!" "But why do you not wish me to
go?" said the Emperor,, with a voice suddenly ren-
dered mild by the solicitude of his youthful nephew
for it was Prince Louis Napoleon, the young favorite
.of the Emperor. "Why do you not wish me to go,
my child ? " repeated he, lifting up his head, and run-
ning his fingers through his beautiful light hair. " It
is not the first time I have left for the war. Do not
be alarmed fear nothing, for I shall soon return"
PRESENTIMENT. 67
"Ob!" replied the young prince, while he continued
to weep, " Oh ! my dear uncle, those wicked allies are
eager to kill you. Let me go, uncle ; let me go with
you." To this thel^mperor made no reply, but having
taken the young prince upon his knee, he pressed him
in his arms and embraced him with warmth and affec-
tion. Then, after addressing some kind and playful
words to the prince, in order to console him, he was
about to restore him to his mother, when, perceiving
tlio effect of his emotion upon one of his officers, he
said, " Come, embrace him ; he will have a good heart,
and amiable dispositions. He is, perhaps, the hope of
my race!" This was presentiment for presentiment.
Prince Louig Napoleon had not attained his eighth
year, when he was forced away from the soil of France
in 1815. Like the King of Rome he refused to go
into banishment. The queen, his mother, had great
trouble to make him submit to his fate ; and when the
Emperor came to Malmaison, to bid his last adieu to
his family, he could only be torn by violence from his
embrace ; he refused to be separated from his nncle,
and cried bitterly, saying that he wanted to fire the
cannon upon his tyrants.
JHAPTEK 11.
RESTORATION OF THE BOURBOBS
THE palace of Fontainbleau is one of the most an
cient and magnificent in France. Among the many ex-
traordinary transactions that have taken place within
its walls, which had been the scene of the joys and
revelry, the intrigues and debauchery of the French
monarchs, for centuries, none were more remarkable
than the abdication of Napoleon, whose empire had
sprung from the Revolution in which the crimes com-
mitted at Fontainbleau had met with such a terrible
expiation.
No one need look beyond the history of Fontain-
bleau for the origin of the most sanguinary and bloody
)f Revolutions. The infidelity and immorality that
played at the apex of society found their way rapidly
to its broad and extended base. The bloodiest heroes
of the Revolution were the sons and grandsons of the
men who had been taught by their rulers that there is
no God in the universe, and no happiness on earth
that is not found in the overthrow of the moral sense
and in the anarchy of the passions. There had been a
clear renunciation, on the part of the kings, of all the
duties they owed to the people, before the masses re-
pelled against the authority of the crown.
Fontainbleau, from an early period, was in possession
PALACE OF FONTAINBLEAU. 69
f the French kings, but was not much lased as a
royal residence until the accession of Francis L in
1515. He employed many artists to fit it up on the
reception of Charles V. "If Charles V. dares to
traverse France," said Tribault, the King's jester, "I
will give him my fool's cap." " And if I allow him to
pass ? " asked the monarch. " Then," replied the fool,
with a wisdom which subsequent events justified, " I
will take back my cap and make yon a present of it 1 "
Francis laughed and Charles arrived.
In 1546, Francis I. fell sick, and saw all the courtiers
of Fontainbleau abandon him to seek the favor of his
successor. Anger revived his strength; he left his bed
of suffering, painted his cheeks, put on his silk and
velvet clothes, and declaring himself cured, went to
the cathedral to return thanks for his recovery. All
the courtiers returned in alarm and fell upon their
knees. " Ah ! ah 1 " said he, with an ironical smile,
" I have once more been able to inspire them with
fear ! " Then, exhausted by this effort, he fell back and
soon expired. Tradition relates that he gave one day
a brilliant proof of his courage and strength. A ser-
pent eighteen feet long if Guillaume Morin can be
believed had become the terror of the hunters and
of the peasants. He -could not be attacked, because
he hid himself between the rocks, and it was, therefore,
necessary to vanquish him by single combat. No one
would undertake this. " Well, I will attempt it ! "
said the king. " For which purpose, (adds the chroni
cler,) he caused to be made an entire suit of -armor,
covered in several places with sharp blades, so that
the serpent attempting to twine around him and onfold
70 BE8TOKATION OF THE BOTJBBON8.
him, was cut in pieces, and the combatant pierced
his throat ; and. having killed him, he returned victo-
rious, with the astonishment of the whole court, thai
a man should have the resolution to contend with a
monster so venomous and formidable." If this story
seems fabulous, we cannot help it ; the author of tho
History of Gatenais believes the circumstances as if he
had seen it.
A revolution of the boudoir followed at Fontain-
bleau the death of Francis I. The prince's favorite,
before the Duchess d' Etampes, had been the beautiful
Diana de Poitiers, a duchess of the same stamp, under
the name of Valentinois. From the father she had
passed to the son, and governed the court of the
dauphin, while her rival governed the court of the
king. Leaning over the death-bed of Francis I., she
had watched his last sigh, and said laughingly to the
Duke of Guise " He is going bravely, he is going ! "
As soon as he had actually expired as soon as the
scepter was within the hands of Henry H., a womac
arrived in haste at Fontainbleau. She entered, with
lofty and radiant brow, and summoned the officers and
porters, who were still in tears. (Fidelity has always
been the virtue of the little.) She showed them an
order of the new king, enjoining them to open the
doors for her. She went directly to the room where
the finest diamonds of the crown were kept. In this
room she found another woman, who had worn them
the day before, and who, like the servants, was bathing
her mourning robes with her tears. With a bitter and
disdainful look she froze the grief which merited her
respect She seized the diamonds as her prey; adorucc
THE RIVAL MISTRESSES. 71
with them her hair, her breast, her arms, her girdle ;
and putting the rest in a golden casket, traversed the
palace, admiring herself in every mirror, and com-
manding like a queen who is taking possession of her
dominions. A few moments after, two women met at
the Porte Dore"e she who had just been weeping, and
she who had usurped her place. The one was more
desolate and more humble still ; the other had never
been so beautiful and so triumphant. The one uttered
a long sigh, and almost swooned on the threshold ; the
other bid her adieu with a burst of laughter, and had
nearly crushed her under the feet of her horse. The
first was Madame d' Etampes, the sovereign of tho
day before, who was going on foot to finish her days in
some humble retreat. The second was Diana of Poi-
tiers, the present sovereign, who was returning in her
carriage to Henry II. Diana was then forty-four,
and had never been more beautiful, says Brantome,
who could not yet, seventeen years after, recall her
without emotion. This phosnix of grace, this monster
of pride, reigned at Fontainbleau without a rival.
Henry H. limited himself to being the most valiant
knight, the most courageous champion, the most active
leaper in France ; in other respects well enough, a
slave of his favorite through amiability of disposition,
as well as through indolence of mind. Meanwhile, the
true queen, who was one day to become Catherine de
Medicis, saw with a gloomy and jealous eye this power
which supplanted hers, and acquired amid the shame-
ful corruptions, the diabolical genius of which she
afterward gave such formidable proofs. She shook off
the joke, and threw aside the mask, on the very day
72 BESTOKATION OF THE BOURBONS.
of Henry II. 's death. Struck in the tourney of the Rue
St. Antoine by a fragment from the lance of Mont-
gomery, the king was still breathing when an officer
went in search of the Duchess of Valentinois. " In the
name of Queen Catherine," said he to her, " deliver up
the diamonds of the crown and quit the palace imme-
diately." " While Henry II. breathes," fiercely replied
Diana, "I acknowledge no master below!" And she
remained, in fact, until evening. But the next day the
king was no more, and she left Fontainbleau, for her
chateau of Anet.
Under Charles IX. and Henry IV., Fontainbleau
was the theater of gayety and voluptuousness. The
majestic but malignant Catherine de Medicis and the
belle Gabrielle d' Estrees were its most celebrated mis-
tresses. It was at Fontainbleau that the great heart
of Henry devised the sublime plan of dividing Europe
into fifteen different states, so well balanced and gov-
erned that civil or national wars should be impossible.
May our century see the essential realization of that
dream, which elevates Henry IY. to the first rank of
philanthropists ! He had already converted to his ideas
Rome and Venice, Savoy, England, Denmark, Sweden,
the Protestants of Hungary and Bohemia, Austria, and
the United Provinces. Spain and the Emperor Ro-
dolphe alone repelled this fraternal alliance, and con-
strained the king of France to prepare for a war,
which was to bring about universal peace. The poniard
of Ravillac put an end at once to the great man and
his great project.
The reign of Louis XIV. was truly characterized by
the remark of Gronville : " The misfortune* of tht
LOCIS xiv. 73
succeeding reigns were his work, and he has hardly
influenced posterity except for its ruin." Louis was
equally dissolute and bigoted. No words that we can
venture to employ, would give an adequate idea of the
profligacy prevalent under his reign of the debauch-
eries of the clergy, the vileness of the courtiers, the
immorality of all classes. " The clergy, (says Dulaure,)
with the exception of a few men of genius, who threw
a bright luster upon their century, and a few others,
commendable for their talents and regular lives, were
plunged in ignorance and dissoluteness. When the
conversion of the Protestants was undertaken, hardly a
priest was to be found in the rural districts capable of
instructing them by his discourse, and of edifying
them by his conduct. The king set an example of dis-
order by his gallantries." A king who scrupled not to
travel with his wife and his two mistresses, (de Munt-
espan and la Yalliere,) all in the same carriage while
the people flocked to see the three queens, as they
called them could with ill grace have shown himself
too severe a censor of his subjects. Later, however
in the height of his fanaticism, when he was coin
pletely in the hands of the pious Madame de Mainte-
nou and his spiritual advisers, and religion was the
order of the day, the clergy and courtiers continued
their evil, courses, merely adding hypocrisy to their
other vices. While the king was occupied with his
amours, (says Duclos,) the court was gallant ; the con-
fessor stepped in and took possession, and it became
dull and hypocritical. The courtiers ran to the chape)
as they before had hurried to ball and pageant ; but the
kiug was still the god to whom the worship
74 RESTORATION OF THE BCUUBOK8.
addressed. He had opportunities of perceiving thU
Once when he was expected at evening prayer, the
aisles were full of courtly devotees. Brissac, major of
the body-guard, entered the chapel, and said aloud to hid
men that the king was not coming, and withdrew them
In an instant the chapel emptied itself. A quarter c 4
an hour afterward, Brissac replaced the guards. The
king arrived, and was astonished at the extraordinary
solitude. Brissac told him the reason ; Louis laughed,
and perhaps he pardoned the indifference to religion in
favor of the respect and fear shown to his person. The
corruption of the court was extreme. " They united,
(says Dulaure,) pride with baseness, licentiousness with
devotion, the forms of politeness with acts of cruelty.
When too old for amorous intrigues, they became pas-
sionate gamblers, quarrelsome, litigious, false devotees,
the tyrants of their homes, the curse of their families.
The annals of tribunals, and historical records, afford
abundant and indisputable proofs of the truth of this
picture." When devotion (or hypocrisy,) had become
the fashion at court, " the lady gamblers, (says a con-
temporary writer,) upon separating, pronounced a
formula, by which they reciprocally made each other a
present of such gains as they might have acquired by
cheating ! This mode of defrauding God, practiced by
so many pious harpies, even in the very apartments of
Madame de Maintenon, appeared to me an eminently
characteristic trait." The mixture of bigotry and liber
tinism, prevalent at the end of the 17th century, was
most curious. Compliance with the forms of religion
with fasts and penitence, was held far more important
than a virtuous life. Louis XIV.'s son, known as the
BURIAL OF T.OTTT8 XTV. 75
grand -dauphin, considered it one of the blackest of
crimes to eat meat on a fast-day. During Lent he sent
to Paris for one of his mistresses, an actress named
Raisin ; and when she came he gave her nothing to
eat but salad and bread fried in oil, imagining that a
sin avoided expiated a sin committed ! The king's
brother, eating a biscuit, said to the Abbe Feuillet, a
canon of St. Cloud, "This is not breaking the fast.''
"Eat a calf, (replied the priest, with a frankness and
honesty rare at that time,) and be a Christian ! " It was
the age of hypocrisy and outward observance. The
busk of religion was offered to God ; the grain wag
nowhere. People went daily to church ; there to talk
and laugh, and see their friends.
No monarch had ever been so flattered in life as
Louis XIV. ; few have been so insulted in death. No
one was ever more magnificent in his expenditures ;
few have been buried with so little pomp. It was an
occasion of great rejoicing. I i is wife abandoned him
several .days before his death. While his coffin was
'eing deposited in its final resting-place, the writers of
ampooiis and satires, were hard at work at the poor
king's expense.
This dissolute monarch, who blazoned forth his
adulteries, and set aside the laws of marriage when he
proclaimed the children of his mistress to be as le^-iti
mate as his lawful issue, was a strict devotee, and
made eager eiforts to persuade the Huguenots to return
to the Catholic faith efforts which, when unsuccess-
ful, were replaced by the most oppressive and cruel
measures. The persecutions were preceded and ac-
by ardent attempts at t>roselytisra. On aU
76 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS.
sides missionaries were at work. When they failed
dragoons replaced them. The sword succeeded the
crucifix.. Neither were successful; but a hundred and
fifty thousand families, belonging to the most intelli-
gent portion of the French population, fled from their
native land, where religious s liberty was refused them,
to enrich other countries by their ingenuity and indus-
try. By guarding the frontiers, Louvois endeavored,
.but in vain, to check this wholesale emigration, the
evil of which was insufficient to wrest concession from
the king. "The first of religions for Louis XIV.,"
*ays Duclos, " was the belief in the royal authority.
Ignorant, besides, in matters of doctrine, superstitious
in his devotion, he pursued a real or imaginary heresy
as an act of disobedience, and thought to expiate his
fault by persecution."
The first formal visit of Louis XV. at Fontainbleau,
was the denouement of a touching story. Stanislaus,
formerly king of Poland, but dethroned by Peter the
Great, was pensioned by the generosity of France.
The hand of his daughter, Marie Leczinska, had been
demanded in marriage by the Count d' Estrees. The
king gave his consent on condition that d' Estrees
would obtain the rank of duke. When the count pre-
sented himself to the regent, (Louis XV. being yet a
minor,) and stated his request and the object of it, that
personage replied " You are mad, to think of marry-
ing the daughter of an ex-king, who has not the means
of subsistence. She is the worst match in Europe.
Think no more of it. I will cure you of your fine
passion, by marrying you to the daughter of a farmer-
general, with a dowry of some millions. You shall.
THE QUEJuN AM) 'J'HTi DDCHKS8. 77
after that, be a duke and peer, if you like. We will
arrange this business. Come to-morrow and sup at
the Palais Koyal ! " Louis XV. remained pensive, and
d' Estrees, abashed, allowed himself to be drawn away
!y the regent. He renounced the hand of the prin-
cess, under pretexts which scarcely concealed forget-
fulness and disdain. This was the last drop of the
cup which the proscribed king had drank to the dregs.
His daughter was repulsed, as an unworthy match,
by an officer of the guards turned from his honor-
able purpose by- the raillery of the regent. But his sor-
row was soon turned to joy. The same courier who
carried to him the letter of d' Estrees was also the
oearer of another from Louis XV., demanding the
nand of Marie in marriage. The bride, scorned by an
officer, became the Queen of France and of Navarre !
The portrait drawn by d' Estrees of the graces of Marie,
had remained engraved on the heart of the young
monarch, and Providence had done the rest. The
marriage of Louis XV. and Marie Leczinska, was cele-
brated formally at Fontainbleau, in the month ol
September, 1725. The new queen avenged herself on
the officer of the guards only by procuring ftr him the
titles of duke and peer, and saying to a friend, when
the Duchess d' Estrees came to pay her court "1
might have been in the place of this lady, and have
done reverence to the queen of France."
The immoderate love of pleasure during the reign
of Louis XV., and which, from the higher descended to
the lower classes, and was defended or excused by the
infidel philosophy of the day, occasioned a fearful
separatioc of reason from morality, and of the passion
78 BESTOBATION OP TQK BOURBONS.
from rectitude. The moral infection spread farther
and farther, and ate deeper and deeper into the roots
of public spirit and every civil virtue. Even Louis
XIV., despite the badness of his example, left the fol-
lowing noble advice to his grandson "Do not bur
den the people with needless expenditures. L<v<
peace, and undertake no war, except when the good
of the state and the welfare of your people render it
necessary." A much deeper impression should have
been made on the mind of the royal child, by the con-
duct of the people who accompanied the hearse of his
father with insults and the grossest expressions of joy.
But Villeroi, his teacher, used to carry him from win
dow to window of the palace, exclaiming "See
there, my king ! your people; all these people belong
to you; all that you see is your property; you are lord
and master of it ! " In his manhood, as the result of
such teachings, the affairs of France were not regarded
as those of Louis XV. He was accustomed to say
" Let us amuse ourselves, even if the deluge comeE
afterward ! " How different were the views of his
father, the noble Duke of Burgundy, who intended, in
case he ascended the throne, to restore to the people
their lost rights. It was he who, shortly before his
death, while contemplating Paris from a high tower,
cried out " What delight a king must experience in
making so many people happy ! " Always confined to
his study, he there contracted the malady which short-
ened his days. He would take no care of himself, and
obstinately refused the aid of medicine. One day Dr.
Senac entered, on the part of the king, and attempted
to give Mm some advice. " I shall be delighted to see
JOSEPHINE AT FONTAnfBLEAO. 79
you," said the prince, " if you talk to me of science and
literature; but if you say a word about health, i shall
prohibit your entering my apartment." Senac then
turned toward a tapestry which represented Alexan-
der the Great, and began to enumerate all the dangers
of a disease from neglected lungs. " Doctor," replied
the dauphin, " have I not forbidden you to speak of
these things?" "I was not addressing you," said
Senac, " but Alexander, who deigns to listen to me."
The prince smiled, but forgot the advice, and died at
the fall of the leaves.
Fontainbleau, which had witnessed so many varying
scenes, became the theater of the greatest errors and
most bitter disasters of Napoleon's imperial reign. It
was there that Pius VTL found supreme honors, when
he came to crown the great conqueror ; and it was
there that the generous pontiff was, after an interval of
nine years, imprisoned by the haughty Emperor. In
this interval, Napoleon had brought Europe to his feet,
distributed crowns to his family, and realized, in
France, all the grandeur of the age of Augustus, of
Leo X., and of Louis XIV. It was there that Jose-
phine, while her happiness lasted, shared it with the
whole world. But her husband soon grew cold toward
her, and she foresaw the dissolution of their union.
The first word which announced this fatal divorce was
pronounced at Fontainbleau, in the Emperor's cabinet.
How many tears flowed from this moment until the
day of the separation ! Josephine had loved Napoleon,
and been beloved passionately by him in his youth.
he had shared his humble fortune ; by her conuec-
in Paris, and especially bv her skillful conduct
80
KE8TORATION OF THB BOtTBBOKi.
during his Egyptian expedition, she had most materi-
ally assisted him in the attainment of the sovereign
dignity ; she had subsequently adorned his court, aad
gratified his pride by the elegance of her manners, and
won to herself the attachment of his people, by her
sincere good nature and active benevolence. Her
power over her husband was known to be great, and
no one ever doubted but that it had uniformly been
exerted on the side of mercy. She was considered as
the good angel who, more frequently and effectually
than any influence besides, interfered to soothe the
fierce passions, and temper the violent acts of her lord.
Her devotion to him was perfect : she partook his la-
bors as far as he would permit her to do so, submitted
to all his caprices, and, with a dark presentiment that
his ambition would one day cast her aside, continued
to center the whole of her existence in the contempla-
tion of his glory. At last Josephine departed, and the
good genius of Napoleon departed with her. France
was thenceforth suspicious of the man who had dis-
trusted himself; and Maria Louisa, the new Empress,
brought to Fontainbleau, under her Austrian mantle,
neither the heart of a woman nor the head Df a queen.
Napoleon, nevertheless, did all that he could to avert
the evil star, and to please the wife destined to give
him a son. Maria Louisa found in the private garden
the pines which are still seen there. The Emperor had
caused them to be planted to remind her of the aspect
of German forests. These delicate attentions did not
prevent Maria Louisa from forgetting Austria in
France, then France in Austria, and at a later period,
-^towing upon an Austrian colonel the hand which
i:;id belli the imperial scepter!
NAPOLEON AND THE POPE. 81
It was at Fontainbleau that Napoleon had his cele-
brated interview with the pope which is still a great
historic mystery. Yet one of the pages about the
palace professes to have overheard it, and gives the fol-
lowing account of the conversation : The pope sat
with downcast eyes, seemingly resigned to hear what
Napoleon might say without replying. The Emperor,
after walking about the room, and watching the pon-
tiff, now in profile, now in the mirrors about the room,
said abruptly " Do not, holy father, assume the air
of a martyr, offering his sufferings to Heaven. Such is
not your situation. You are only a voluntary pris
oner. Say a single word, you are free ; the road tff
Rome is open, no one shall detain you." Pius VII
sighed, raised his right hand, and looked at the golden
cross which he wore suspended from his neck. "If the
dignity of your character did not prevent mo, I should
say you were a little ungrateful. You do not seem
sufficiently to have remembered the good offices which
France has rendered you. The conclave of Venice,
which elected you pope, has to me a little the appear-
ance of having been inspired by my campaign in Italy,
and by a word which I said about you. I have never
had time to study theology myself; but I attach great
faith to the power of the church. She has a prodigious
vitality. Holy father, you shall be satisfied with me !
We can, if you please, do great things in the future."
And with an air of the most gentle and naive confi-
dence : " For example, I do not see why you should be
reluctant to reside in Paris always. I will even allow
you the Tuileries, if you desire it. You will already
tind there your chamber of Monte Cavallo.' which ii
S3 RESTORATION OK THE BOURBONS.
prepared for you. I shall not live there mud Do
you not see clearly, Padre, that this is the true capital
of the world ? As for me, I will do all you wish me
tu ; I am the moat obedient child in the world. Pro-
vided war and politics are left to me, you shall manage
the church as you please. I will be only your soldier.
This will be truly fine ; we will have councils like Con-
stantine and Charlemagne ; I will open them and close
them ; I will afterward place in your hands the true
keys of the world, and as our Lord has said : ' I am
come with the sword,' I will only ask your blessing
upon each Bnccess of our arms." The pope remained
mute and motionless. Napoleon smiling, bent forward
and awaited a reply. The old man at last slowly
raised himself and sighed, as if speaking to his
invisible angel: Commediante! " (Comedian !)
The Emperor bounded like a wounded leopard, bit
his lip till it bled, jingled his spurs, and made the floor
shake and the curtains tremble. "la comedian ! "
exclaimed he suddenly. " Oh ! I will give yon come-
dies which shall make you all weep like women and
children. Comedian ! You are mistaken if you think
tliis insolent coolness will affect me ! My theater is the
world ; the part which I play in it is that of manager
and author ; for actors, I have you all, pope, kings,
people ! * and the thread by which I move you, is
fear ! Comedian ! Ah ! it will take a man of another
stamp than yourself to dare to applaud or to hiss me.
Signor Chiaramonti! do you know that you would be
Napoleon was accustomed to uso such proud 'xinguaga. * Come to
Evfurth, (said he on one occasion to Talma, the actor,) end UJH *kaU
play lujfor* o/ok vttfuil of kings I "
COMEDIAN TRJLGEDLAJJ. 88
aly a poor curate if 1 willed, you and, your tiara)
France would laugh in your face, if 1 should not pre-
serve my serious air in saluting you. Only four years
since, no one dared speak the name of Christ aloud
Who then would have spoken of the pope, if you
please ? Comedian ! It is I who hold you all in my
fingers ; it is I who move you from South to North,
like puppets ; it is I who pretend to rely upon you in
some things, because you represent an old idea which
1 wish to resuscitate ; and you have not wit enough to
perceive this and to act as if you did not perceive it.
I must speak plainly ! You must look closely at things
before you can comprehend them. And you really
think we need you, and lift up your head, and clothe
yourself in your woman's robes ? But learn that they
do not impose upon me, and that if you go on, I will
treat yours as Charles VII. did that of the Grand
Vizier, I will rend it to pieces with a blow from my
spurs ! " Pius VII. was as calm as before ; the same
smile of resignation dwelt on his lips. He raised his
eyes a second time and said as before, with a sigh :
'^Tragedienne! " ( Tragedian 1 )
This was too much. Napoleon, who was standing
nt the extremity of the chamber, darted like an arrow,
rushed upon the pontiff as if he would have killed
him, but stopped at the table, took from it a vase of
Sevres, and crushed it to fragments beneath his heel.
He threw himself violently into a chair, and after re-
flecting in gloomy silence, said "It is true, this is a
wretched life ! It is true, tragedian or comedian ! all
is acting, all is costume for me, has been and will be
forever. What weariness! What littleness! T
84 RESTORATION OF THE BOUKBONB.
practice postures! always to practice postuies! The
face to this party, the profile to that, according to their
ideas. To appear to them to be what they choose to
have you, and to divine justly their imbecile dreams.
To p. ace them all between hope and fear ; to dazzle
them by dates and bulletins, by prestiges of distance
and prestiges of name ; to be the master of all, and
not know what to do with them. Faith, this is all!
And after this all, to suffer from ennui as I do ; it is
too much. For, in fact, (pursued he, crossing his legs
and throwing himself back in his chair,) I am enor-
mously wearied. As soon as I sit down I am ready to
burst with ennui. I could not hunt three days at Fon-
tainbleau without being tired to death. I must go
where I must go ; if I know where, may I be hanged.
I speak to you frankly. I have plans for the lives of
forty emperors ; I make one every morning and one
every night ; I have an indefatigable imagination, but
before I had time to carry two of them into execution,
I should be worn out body and soul ; for oui poor
lamp does not burn long. And, candidly, if all my
plans should be executed, I would not swear that the
world would find itself much happier, but it would
be more beautiful, and a majestic unity would reign
over it. I am not a philosopher myself, and I know
no one but our secretary of Florence that has common
sense. I understand nothing of certain theories. Life
is too short for rest. As soon as I have planned, I
execute. Enough explanations of my acts will be found
after me to exalt me if 1 succeed, and humble me if 1
fall. Paradoxes are here already ; they abound in
France. 1 keep ti^m quiet while I live, but after ua
SHAKING HANDS.
they will appear. No matter my business is to sue
ceed. 1 make my Iliad in action, every day. What
would you have? one must live ; we must find our
pl.;i.-e and dig our hole. 1 have made mine like a bullet.
So much the worse for those who were before mel
Ii\ory one eats according to his appetite. For myself,
f was very hungry ! When I have worn for an hour
my imperial costume, i have had enough of it. I re-
sume my uniform, and mount my horse. Always on
horseback ! all my life on horseback ! There are in the
world but two classes of men : those who possess, and
those who are reaching forward. The first may lie
down, the second are moving. As I understood that
early, I have gone far ; that is all. There are work
men on buildings, in colors, in forms, and in phrases
I am an architect of battles. This is my profession. .
have already manufactured fifty, which are called vic-
tories. I must be paid for my work ; and the pay of
the empire is not too dear. Besides, I shall continue
to labor. You will see many others. You will see all
dynasties date from mine, parvenu as I am like
yourself, holy father, elected, and taken from the
crowd. On this point, we can shake hands." And he
hastily presented his hand to Pius VII., who, touched
by this frank confession, and seeing him at last throw
off the double mask which he had wrested from him
by two words, extended in turn his trembling hand,
and, letting tall a tear on his thin cheek, yielded his
temporal power.
On the 23d of January, 1814, the pope left Fontain-
bleau, blessing the crowd assembled in the court of Le
Cheval Blanc ; and on the 13th of March following
86 RESTORATION OF THE BOCJRBON6.
Napoleon learned in the same court the entrance into
Paris of the kings whom he had driven from the.i
capitals. This downfall of the terrible Emperor was
greater than his elevations. His defense of the French
territory against foreign invasion surpassed the glory
of his finest conquests ; and he never appeared so sub
lime us on the night in which he re-entered Fontain-
bleau exhausted, repeating, " All is lost except honor.''
The enemies of Bonaparte had triumphed. lie
could no longer carry on the war against them. After
great reluctance and a long debate among his mar-
shals, he seated himself at a table and traced with a
firm hand the following lines :
" The allied powers having proclaimed that the Em-
peror Napoleon is the sole obstacle to the re-establish-
ment of peace in Europe, he, faithful to his oath, de-
clares that he is ready to descend from the throne, to
quit France, and even to relinquish life, for the good
of his country, which is inseparable from the rights of
his son, from those of the regency in the person of the
empress, and from the maintenance of the laws of the
empire. Done at our palace of Fontainbleau, April
the 4th, 1814. NATOLEON."
These lines, dignified in expression and replete with
deep feeling, were worthy of the solemn occasion. The
treaty of Fontainbleau, in which, having abandoned
all hope, he renounced for himself and his heirs the
throne of France and of Italy, was concluded on the-
llth of April. But little remained except to bid
adieu to his companions in arms. On the 20th of
April the relics of his imperial guard were drawn up
in the court-yard of the castle. He advanced toward
them on horseback; and tears dropped from his eyei
NA-POU5ON AND THE IMPERIAL GUARD. 97
M he dismounted in their midst. " All Europe," said
Napoleon, u has armed against me. France herself
lias deserted me, and chosen another dynasty. 1
might, with my soldiers, have maintained a civil wai
for years but it would have rendered France un-
happy. Be faithful to the new sovereign whom your
country has chosen. Do not lament my fate : I shall
always be happy while I know that you are so. 1
could have died nothing was easier but I will
always follow the path of honor. I will record with
my pen the deeds we have done together. I cannot
embrace you all," he continued, taking the command-
ing officer in his anus, " but I embrace your general.
Bring hither the eagle. Beloved eagle ! may the
kisses I bestow on you long resound in the hearts of
the brave ! Farewell, my children farewell my
brave companions surround me once more fare-
well ! " Amid the silent but profound grief of these
brave men, submitting like himself to the irresistible
force of events, Napoleon placed himself in his
carriage, and drove rapidly from Fontainbleau.
It is most painful to contemplate these scenes.
What agonies must have passed through the heart of
such a man, so humbled ! What inevitable contrasts
of the throne with the dungeon ! What sense of
shame in the humiliation which thus placed him at
the disposal of nis own few followers ! What sleepless
anxiety in those midnight consultations, in those ex-
posures to public shame, in this sense of utter ruin, in
this terrible despair ! If some great painter shall
hereafter arise to vindicate the pencil by showing its
power of delineating the deepest passions of our nature,
88 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS.
or flme still greater poet shall come to revive tin
day of Shakepeare, and exhibit the tortures of i\
greater Macbeth, fallen from the highest elevation of
human things into a depth of self-reproach and sell'
abasement to which all the powers of human language
might be weak what a subject for them were here !
The apartments at Fontainbleau are full of the giant
shadow of the Emperor : it was there that he labored
in the days of his glory it was there that he fell in
his greatness. The round table at which he wrote his
abdication is still there. It bears, at present, OM
plate of copper, this historical inscription, engraven
by order of Louis XYIIL: " On the 5th of April,
1814, Napoleon Bonaparte signed his abdication, on
this table, in the King^s Cabinet ! the second from
the sleeping-chamber at Fontainbleau" We may
easily recognize in this the prince who always spoke
of the Emperor Napoleon as Monsieur de Bonaparte.*
The capacities of Napoleon as a civil ruler were
scarcely inferior to his talents as a general. We find
ample evidence of the success with which he applied
the native vigor of his understanding to the science of
government, in his dispatches to the ministers of state,
in his recorded conversations with his friends, in hie
speeches and observations to his council, and in the
admirable measures he adopted or suggested for the
* Louis XVIII.'s dislike to Napoleon is well known. The late J. Fen-
imore Cooper, writing) from Paris, in 1826, mentions the following cir-
cumstance in regard to it : " My girls have shown me an abridgment of
the history of France, that has been officially prepared for the ordinary
schools, in which there is no sort of allusion to him (Bonaparte.) The
wags here, say that a work has been especially prepared for the heii
presumptive, however, in which the Emperor is a little better troated ;
being spoken of as "a certain Marquis de BonaparU who commanded
the armiwj of the king I"
NAPOLEON'S OIVTL ADMINISTRATION. 89
reorganization of France from 1800 to 1804. It is im-
possible to read the account of these without doing
involuntary homage to the strong, clear sense, the
instinctive wisdom, which, amid all the fatal errors
which ambition led him to commit, marked every
observation which fell from this wonderful man. Nor
does history alone contain the proofs of Napoleon's ex-
traordinary administrative capacity. All France and
Italy abound with the undertakings of public utility
which ho set on foot and carried through. It appears
that during the twelve years of his government he ex-
pended no less than $200,000,000 on the public works
in the various countries under his rule ; ($140,000,000
in France alone ;) and of these, $110,000,000 were for
roads, bridges, harbors, and canals, which will remain
eternal monuments of his genius and power, and per-
petual blessings and sources of civilization to all
Europe, long after the hand of time and industry shall
have obliterated the last lingering traces of his desolat-
ing wars, and when the memory of his crimes and his
glory shall have faded into the dim remoteness of the
past. The Antwerp harbor, the Alpine roads, and the
Code Napoleon, will long survive the effects of the
mischiefs which he caused and the sufferings which he
inflicted.
The reverse of this interesting picture is presented
when we turn from his intellectual endowments to con-
template his moral qualities. Yet even here there waa
much that was attractive. He was a man of fasci-
nating manners, of occasional impulses of generous
emotion, and of warm and kind, though limited affec-
tions. He appears to have been sincerely attached U
90 RKSTOfiATION OF THE BOUKBONfc.
his wife and child, and to a few of his early compan
ions in arras. But the prominent feature of his char
acter was a hard, cold, unrelenting selfishness. What
ever interfered, or seemed likely to interfere, with his
own fame, his own aggrandizement, his own ambition,
was trampled under foot with the most ruthless
resolution. His frequent and contemptible disregard of
truth ; his entire disregard of the lives of his soldiers,
or the exhaustion of his country, or his own deliberate
promises or solemn treaties, or, in short, of any con-
sideration whatever, when in pursuit of the object he
had determined to obtain; enable us to look without
regret upon the retributive fate which finally overtook
him. The insatiable and unresting ambition of Na-
poleon admits of no excuse. His encroachments were
even more daring and intolerable in time of peace
than during war. He pursued them from passion, and
justified them on principle. It would appear that
Providence had sent him upon earth, to show to the
worshipers of grandeur and of genius, how com-
pletely all that is most magnificent in intellectual en-
dowments may be divorced from moral excellence and
: l ie generous affections; and when so divorced, how
.iiealculably sad and terrible are its consequences to
mankind. It seems almost certain that if Napoleon, at
the height of his power, had sheathed the sword, and
devoted his talents and actions to internal improve-
ments, nncl to the reparation of the ravages which his
wars had made in the wealth, the finances, the com-
merce, the population, and the agriculture of France,
lie might have maintained the extended boundaries
;>f his empire and have continued to reign over it
CHARACTER OF WAJL. 91
From the commencement to the close of Napoleon's
career, the levies of soldiers in France exceeded four
millions, and not less than three millions of these per-
ished in the field, the hospital or the bivouac. If to
these we add at least an equal number out of the ranks
of their antagonists, it is clear that not less than six
millions of human beings perished in warfare in the
course of twenty years, in the very heart of civilized
Europe, at the commencement of the nineteenth cen-
tury of the Chistian era. But even these stupendous
numbers give us no adequate conception of the de-
struction of human life directly consequent on the wars
of the Revolution and the Empire. We must add the
thousands who perished from want, outrage, and ex-
posure, and the hundreds of thousands who were subse-
quently swept away by the ravages of that pestilence
which took its rise amid the retreat from Russia, and
the crowded garrisons of the campaign of 1813, and
for several years afterward desolated in succession
every country in Europe.
And even when we have summed up and laid before
us, in all the magnitude of figures, the appalling
destruction of life here exhibited, we can still gather
only a faint and remote conception of the suffering?
and evils inflicted by this awful scourge. Death :r
the field is among the smallest of the miseries of war :
the burned villages the devastated harvests the
ruined commerce the towns carried by assault the
feeble and the lovely massacred and outraged grief,
despair and desolation carried into innumerable fami
lies, these are among the more terrific visitation* of
military conflicts, and the blackest of the crimes foi
whicn a fearful retribfcvion win ono uay be exacted at
',he hands ot (Looe wtio have provoked, originated, or
;ou,pciled them.
l f ?3y thing could awaken the statesmen ^f our age
LI A just estimate of war and the warrior, surely their
J oeds and the consequences of these deeds should do
t,o, when exhibited on a scale of such tremendous mag-
Mtudc:. Yet, so far, the impression made seems to have
i-3en both feeble and imperfect. Our views with re-
gard to war are still in singular discordance both with
our reason and our religion. They appear to be rather
the result of a brute -instinct, than of obedience to the
dictates of a sound sense or of a pure faith. On all
other points, Christianity is the acknowledged founda-
tion of our theory of morals, however widely we may
swerve from it in practice ; but in the case of war we
do not pretend to keep up even the shadow of alle-
giance to the authority of our nominal lawgiver. u A
state of war, (says Robert Hall,) is nothing less than a
temporary repeal of all the principles of virtue. The
morality of peaceful times is directly opposite to the
maxims of war. The fundamental rule of the first is
to do good ; of the latter to inflict injuries. The
t'>nn.er commands us to euccor the oppressed; the latter
to overwhelm the defenseless. The rules of morality
will not suffer us to promote the dearest interests by
falsehood ; the maxims of war applaud it when
employed for the destruction of others."
How happens it that our notions on the subject of
war are so widely different from what we have a right
to suppose they would be among a Christian people !
from what they would be, if Christianity had had
THE PASSION FOE WAM. 93
any share m their formation? We think the singu-
lar discrepancy may be traced to two sources. In the
first place, the whole tone of feeling among educated
minds and through them among other classes has
become thoroughly perverted and demoralized by the
turn which is given to their early studies. The first
books to which the attention of our youth is sedulously
and exclusively directed, are those of the ancient au-
thors ; the tirst poet they are taught to reiisn aua &u-
mire is Homer ; the first histories put into their hands,
(and with which through life they are commonly more
conversant than with any other,) are those of Greece
and Rome ; the first biographies with which they be-
come familiar are those of the heroes and warriors of
ihe wild times of old. Now, in those days the staple
occupation of life at once its business and its pas-
time was war. War was almost the sole profession of
the rich and great, and became, in consequence, almost
the sole theme cf poets and historians. It is, therefore,
the subject most constantly presented, and presented in
the most glowing colors, to the mind of the young stu-
dent, at the precise period when his mind is most sus-
ceptible and most tenacious of new impressions ; the
exciting scenes of warfare fill him with deeper interest
than any other, and the intellectual and moral quali-
ties of the warrior quick foresight, rapid combina-
tion, iron resolve, stern severity, impetuous courage
become the objects of his warmest admiration ; he for-
gets the peaceful virtues of charity and forbearance, or
learns to despise them ; ho sees not the obscurer but
the loftier merits of the philanthropist and the man of
sc'ence ; ho comes to louk upnn wr as the noblest of
94 RESTORATION OF THE BOUKBON8.
professions, and upon the warrior as the proudest 01
LIU man characters ; and the impression thus early made
withstands all the subsequent efforts of reflection and
rt-ligion to dislodge it. It is difficult to overestimate
the mischief wrought by this early misdirection of our
studies ; and that the impression produced is such ai
we have represented it, every one will acknowledge on
a consideration of his own feelings.
The ether source of our erroneous sentiments with
regard to war, may be found in the faulty and mis-
chievous mode in which history has been generally
written. In the first place, little except war has been
touched upon ; and the notion has been thus left upon
the mind, either that nations were occupied in war
alone, or that nothing else was worth recording. Those
silent but steady labors which have gradually advanced
the wealth of a country, and laid the foundation of its
prosperity and power ; those toilsome investigations
which have pushed forward the boundaries of human
knowledge, and illustrated throughout all time the age
and the land which gave them birth ; that persevering
ingenuity and unbaffled skill which have made science
the handmaid of art, and wrought out of her discov-
eries the materials of civilization and national pre-emi-
nence ; and, greater than all, that profound and patient
thought which has eliminated the great principles of
social and political well-being ; concerning all these,
history has been almost silent ; and the whole attention,
both of the teacher and the student, has been concentra-
ted upon "the loud transactions of the outlying world,"
while the real progress of nations, and the great and
DESOLATION OF WAIL 95
good men who have contributed thereunto, have alike
been consigned to oblivion.
Again, historians have seldom given a full and fair
analysis of what war is. They have described the
marches, the sieges, the able maneuvers, the ingenious
stratagems, the gallant enterprises, the desperate con
flicts, the masterly combinations, the acts of heroic
daring, with which war abounds ; and they have sum
med up those descriptions of battles which we read
with breathless interest, by informing us that the vic-
tory was gained with a loss of so many thousands killed
and wounded so many thousands made prisoners
and so many standards and pieces of artillery taken
from the enemy. But all this is only the outside color-
ing of war, and goes little way toward making us ac-
quainted with its real character. Historians rarely tell
us of the privations suffered the diseases engendered
the tortures undergone during a campaign ; still less
of the vices ripened, the selfishness confirmed, the
hearts hardened, by this " temporary repeal of all the
principles of virtue." They do not speak of the ties
broken of the peasants ruined of the hearths made
desolate of grief never to be comforted of shame
never to be wiped away of the burden of abiding
affliction brought upon many a happy household of
all the nameless atrocities, one of which in peaceful
times would make our blood run cold, but which in
war are committed daily, by thousands, with impunity.
When a statesman declares war in consequence of
any of the ordinary motives thereto for the sake of a
rich colony which he is desirous to obtain : to preren*
96 RESTORATION OF THE BOUKBON8.
an ambitious neighbor from acquiring what inigii
render him a formidable rival ; to restore a monarch
dethroned by a people wearied of his manifold oppre^
sious ; to resent a private wrong, or avenge a dip!"
inatic insult his thoughts on the matter seldom travel
beyond the issuing of a manifesto, the appointment ot
a general, the levying of troops, and the imposition
of taxes for the maintenance of the contest, lie is
therefore, wholly unconscious what in reality he i*
doing ; and if a sage were to go to him, as Nathan
went to David, and say "Sir, you have given orders
for the commission of murder on a monstrous scale ;
you have directed that 50,000 of your subjects shalJ
send as many of their fellow men, wholly unprepared
for so awful a change, into a presence where they must
answer for their manifold misdeeds ; you have com-
manded that 30,000 more shall pass the best years of
their life in hopeless imprisonment shall in fact be
punished as the worst of criminals, when they have
committed no crime but by your orders ; you have
arranged so that 20,000 more shall lie for days on the
bare ground, horribly mutilated, and slowly bleeding
to death, and at length only be succored in order to
undergo the most painful operations, and then perish
miserably in a hospital ; you have given orders that
numbers of innocent and lovely women as beautiful
and delicate as your own daughters shall undergo
the last indignities from the license cf a brutal sol
diery ; you have issued a fiat which, if not recalled,
will carry mourning into many families, will cut off at
a stroke the delight of many eyes, will inflict upon
thousands, now virtuous and contented, misery xvriieJ?
REVEEW OF BONAPAKTE'S KEIGN. 97
can know no cure, and desolation which in this world
can tind no alleviation ; " if such a message as this
were conveyed to him every word of which would
be strictly true would he not disown the ghastly
image thus held np to him, and exclaim, "Is thy ser
vant a dog, that he should do this thing?" And if
statesmen could realize all this before they put theii
rumd to the declaration of hostilities, would they not
rather thrust it into the flames ?
With this digression if remarks can be so called
which so inevitably grow out of the subject we have
been considering we close this hasty notice of the
career of Bonaparte. The period over which it ex-
tends is, beyond all others, the most thronged with
great events great in themselves, marvelous in the
rapidity with which they succeeded each other, and
momentous and far-reaching in their consequences.
In it the most glorious prospects that ever dawned
upon civilized humanity, were quenched in the darkest
clou<l that ever closed over its destinies. We see the
overthrow of an ancient tyranny, intolerable from its
intense selfishness, more intolerable still from its very
dotage and decrepitude and the birth, out of its
ashes, of a wild and shapeless liberty, at once violent
and feeble, stained with the ineradicable vice and
weakness of its origin, mischievous and transient.
We see the most prolonged and devastating wars ever
waged upon the earth, ended by a fearful and fitting
retribution ; and the most magnificent genius of mod
ern times, within the short space of twenty-five years,
a famished ensign in an unpaid army, monarch of the
most powerful empire which has existed since the dayi
RESTORATION OF THE BOUKBOKi.
rcf Trajan, and, finally, a forsaken and solitary eajt.iv*
on a barren rock in the remotest pathways of the
ocean. In a period thickly strewn with such vicissi-
tudes, there is much food for wholesome contempla-
tion ; and if the nations arid the rulers of our timee
would study its lessons with the solicitous humility
which their magnitude and their solemnity demand,
the eartli would become rich in that wisdom which
grows out of the grave of folly strong in that virtue
which springs out of the recoil from sin.
Upward of twenty years of exile had passed over
the heads of the expatriated Bourbons, when the reac-
tion consequent upon the devouring ambition of Na-
poieon, drove him from the throne and replaced them
in the vacant chair.
The following personages composed the royal family:
The King, Louis XVIII. ; his brother, the Count d' Ar-
tois, (afterward Charles X.) ; the two sons of the latter,
the Duke d' Angouleme and the Duke de Berry; and
the Duke d' Orleans, (afterward Louis Philippe I.)
The princesses were the Duchess d" Angouleme,
(daughter of Louis XVI.); the Duchess d' Orleans,
mother of Louis Philippe ; the Duchess d' Orleans,
wife of Louis Philippe ; and his sister Adelaide.
Louis XVIII. was born November 15, 1755, and
was bordering on his sixtieth year at the time of the
restoration. He was brother to Louis XVI. He man
aged his escape from France, at the period of the Rev-
olution, with much adroitness. His only confidants
were his mistress and Count d' Avaray, who made pre-
parations for his flight. He mixed with the people,
a free arid unembarrassed air, and returnee
ESCAPE OF LOUIS XVIII. 99
late to his palace. He then retired to his own bed
chamber, was undressed by his valet-de-chambre, who
slept in the same room, and whom he distrusted. lit-
went to bed, closed the curtains one side, got out at the
other without noise, slipped into a cabinet which com-
municated with a lobby of the palace, passed from
thence to a lodge, where Count d' Avaray was waiting
for him with a disguise ; painted his eyebrows, as-
sumed false hair over his own, and placed on his round
hat a large tri-colored cockade. He then descended
into the court of the palace, where a hackney-coach
was waiting for him. On the quay he found a travel-
ing carriage with post-horses, got into it with his friend,
and with English names and passports, passed the bar-
riers without suspicion. On arriving at Maubeuge, the
last town in France on the Belgian frontier, he bribed
the postillion to pass round the town, and tearing the
tri-colored cockade off his hat, he abandoned himself
to joy on throwing away, at last, this sign of his op-
pression and of his terror. When they reached Mons,
e pressed his deliverer, Count d' Avaray, in his arms,
ind threw himself on his knees to thank heaven for his
safety. Then mingling his scenic and literary souve-
nirs with his self-congratulations on his escape, with
characteristic frivolity, he parodied some verses of an
opera, and applied their tragic meaning to the most
burlesque accidents of his disguise and journey. Alas !
while he was thus reveling in the isolated joys of his
own safety, his wife, of whose fate he was ignorant, was
running the same dangers by another route ; and the
king, the queen, their children, and his sister, over-
take!) on the road at Varennes, were going to pay,
100 RESTORATION OF THB BOUEBOH8.
with their liberty and their lives, for this day whic!
gave to him alone security on a foreign soil.
During the overwhelming success of Napoleon, he
was driven from court to court uu the continent, the
kings who befriended him being successively compelled
to expel him from their dominions. He finally, (1807,)
sought an asylum in England, where he remained until
the overthrow of Napoleon.
When Louis XVI. and his queen Marie Antoinette,
were beheaded, their two children, a son and daughter,
were retained prisoners, and confined in loathsome
dungeons. The lad, (who was called by the royalists,
Louis XYII.,) met with a melancholy death. Blows,
scanty food, the damps and filth of a dungeon, were
inflicted on him. He was even compelled to drink in-
toxicating liquors. He had been taught obscene songs,
and his innocent hand had even been forced to sign an
incestuous deposition against his own mother, the im-
pious meaning of which he did not comprehend. " This
poor child, (said his sister, who was liberated,) lay wal-
lowing in his infected dungeon, amidst filth and rags.
It was swept out only once a month. His sense of
feeling was obliterated ; he lived like an unclean rep
tile in a common sewer." " It is well known, (said
Harmand, a representative in the National Assembly,
who visited him,) that Simon, his jailer, played cruel
tricks with the sleep of his prisoner. Without any re
gard for an age when sleep is so imperative a want, he
repeatedly called him up in the course of the night.
' Here I am, citizen,' would the poor child reply, shiver-
ing with cold. ' Come here, and let me touch you,'
Simon would exclaim; then striking or kicking him,
LOU 18 XVIII. 101
would cry out, k get to bed, you young wolf.'" From
the time when he understood the nature of the crimes
he had been made to charge his mother with, he main-
tained uniform silence, and died, June 9, 1795, without
uttering a word. Upon his death, his uncle assumed
the title of Louis XV1IL, although he was, for nearly
twenty years afterward, an exile from France.
The throne of France was finally bestowed upon
him, in 1814, by the allied powers, and not by the
choice of the French people. There was, consequently,
from the beginning, a feeling of distrust between him
and the nation. His measures were illy calculated to
conciliate the good will of the people. He seemed re-
solved to make use of the victory which the allies had
won for him, to restore the most odious features of the
monarchy which the nation had violently discarded a
quarter of a century previous.
The nation wished, 1st. to have its poli'-ical liberties
secured, and the right of being represented by depu-
ties, chosen by the people ; 2d. that the personal free-
dom of individuals should be secured from prosecu-
tions for imaginary crimes, contrary to legal forms ;
3d. the equality of citizens in the eye of the law, and
the right of all to obtain any civil or military dignity,
by merit and talents ; 4th. the abolition of feudal ser-
vice ; 5th. the right, in criminal accusations, to be
judged by a jury ; 6th. the independence of the judi-
ciary from every other power in the state; 7th. the
right of levying taxes by their representatives, and all
classes in proportion to their property ; 8th. the right
of every individual to exercise any means of gaining a
living which did not interfere with the rights of othei
RESTORATION oK illK BOURBONS.
itizeus ; 9th. the freedom of speech and of tue
>r the riglit of every one to communicate his thoughts
to his fellow citizens, in public meetings or through the
press; and 10th. the right of every one to perform di-
vine worship in his own way, without molestation.
So entirely was the spirit of Louis XVIll.'s govern-
raent at variance with that of the nation, that many
individuals, who had at first welcomed the return of
the royal family, liecame convinced that the Bourbons
and France were no longer tit for each other. Al-
though Louis XVIII. possessed much natural sagacity,
he had, during his long exile, become enfeebled by age
and disease ; he did not understand the change which
had been wrought in the character of the people of
France. It was said to him, with equal justice and
severity, that during his exile " he had forgotten noth-
ing and learned nothing." lie carried on against the
constitution he had granted the people, a series of petty
thefts and paltry invasions, and left to his successor a
government whose origin was odious and whose ad-
ministration was regarded with hatred. Innocent in-
dividuals, charged with political crimes, were often
kept in close confinement for years, before being set
at liberty. In the prisons, condemned criminals were
confined with those who were merely confined for
trial the worst of criminals were mingled with men
detained only for political offenses. It wns also a
source of discontent, which existed until the final ban-
ishment of the Bourbons, that the nation was not per-
mitted to choose a single magistrate. All officers were
appointed by the government, and the councils of the
departments 'mt. which the kingdom wa,s divided,
tsi
Jm.iiessedly declared the wishes of the people, al
though wholly Unauthorized) so that their voices were
often opposed to the opinion of the majority in the
departments. The national guard was not permitted
to elect its own officers, and was a mere instrument
in the hands of the king.
Until the death of Louis XVIIL, the government was
almost constantly engaged in the suppression of local
insurrection caused by the disaffection of the people.
Probably the existence of Napoleon, on a rock far
away in the ocean, saved the throne of Louis XVIII.
from overthrow. While Napoleon lived, all other
pretensions besides his were impossible ; When he
died, pretenders rushed thick upon the field of con-
spiracy. There was a party for Napoleon II., a party
for Joseph Bonaparte, and another for Prince Eugene.
The latter was so much in earnest that Lafayette was
offered the sum of a million of dollars, to cover the
first cost of a He volution in favor of the brother of
Queen Hortense. This Lafayette neither declined nor
accepted, but he was supposed to favor the pretensions
of Josph Bonaparte. Louis XVIII. never felt him-
self secure on the throne, and was more than once on
the point of flying from the country. He died Sep-
tember 16, 1824. " Had he lived a little loi^jr," said
the late J. Fenimore Cooper, in a letter from Paris,
written in 1825, " he would most probably have been
dethroned before this ; the hopes and the expectation*
which Usually accompany a new reign, having, most
probably, deferred the crisis for a few ycarp." The
crisis did come, four years after Mr. Cooper wrote
the above, and the successor of Louis XVIIL was
104 RESTORATION OF THE BOURBONS.
dethroned. The king, although he could tot learn
wisdom from his fears, always retained a lively reinem
brance of the night when, about a year after his first
restoration, a courier knocked suddenly at the gate of the
Tuileries. His knock was that of a man who brought
bad news : he was told that the king slept, but his an-
swer was that he must immediately be awakened ; for
there had been seen on the road a little man in a small
hat, dressed in a gray coat, with his hands crossed be-
hind him, who arrived on foot and alone, with his
sword in its scabbard, again to take the constitutional
throne of France from its legitimate kings. Thus said
the courier, and he would take no reward for the intel-
.igence ; he chose it should be an act of charity to the
house of Bourbon. Louis XVJII. was obliged to quit
the palace, as speedily as if it had been on fire. He
did not even stop to have the sheets taken from his
bed, or to secure his prescriptions from his room. On
the other hand, the Emperor arrived so quickly, that he
found the room in disorder, the physic scattered, and
chicken-bones half picked, under the bed. The last
incident was told by a person who entered the Em-
peror's bedroom just as he was surveying it. "Look,
(said ho,) as if it were not enough to make a kitchen of
my bedroom, they have made a dog-kennel of it."
For this visit to that " dog-kennel" the Emperor was
hurled into the abyss of Waterloo.
It is reported that Louis XVIII. , while sitting on the
ranteuil on which he was about to expire, surrounded
by high personages in tears, and his face overspread
with the ghastliness of hastening dissolution, called to
his side the youngest and weakliest prince of liig
CHAftLES X- 10."
tarn i iy, and laying his hand on the child's head, as it
bent to receive his blessing, said, " Let my brother
be careful of the crown of this child." Not long after,
the princes and several grand officers were assembled
in another part of the palace, and seemed as though in
expectancy of some momentous event. Suddenly a
door of the apartment was thrown open, and a voice
cried out, "The King, sirs." it was Charles X. that
entered. Louis XVII L had just expired.
Charles X., the youngest brother of Louis XVI. and
Louis XVIII., was born October 9, 1757, and was con-
sequently sixty-seven years of age when he ascended
the throne. In his youth he had been the idol of his
family, of the court and of Paris. His handsome per-
son, his gracefulness, the thoughtlessness of his char-
acter, even the frivolity of his mind, won him the
affections of the aristocracy. He affected to look upon
the coming Revolution as one of those transient
commotions of the lower orders, which should be sup-
pressed and not discussed. None of those ideas which
then tilled the rest of the world had ever entered into
his head; for those ideas pro-supposed intelligence, and
he never reflected. Spoiled by the court; flattered by
a circle of the young aristocracy, as frivolous and
unreflecting as himself; held forth to the army and
nobility as the prince who would shortly rally them
around the standard of absolute monarchy, and who
was to dissipate, with the point of the sword, all the
liberal dreams of the nation this prince was blind to
the Revolution. The men of the Revolution regarded
him witii contempt or indiiierence ; they did not teai
him enough to hate him. Yet he was the first to
106 ii&ie&Aftoit of 'm&
escape frotn the impending ruin. Among Ids vices, a
passion for the fair sex was predominant. Although
married, he had an amour with the Countess de Polafl*
tron, who abandoned her husband and followed him to
foreign lands. Consoled and intoxicated by the charms
and the tenderness of this accomplished woman, he had
renounced, in his passion and fidelity for her, all th
trifling liaisons which his personal beauty had formed
around him in his youth. He only lived in future for
Madame Polastron, who was for him the model of liv-
ing tenderness. A decline, aggravated by the humid
climate of England, seized on Madame Polastron. and
she beheld death slowly approaching her, in a.'l the
freshness of her charms, and all the delights of a mu-
tual flame. Religion, however, (as many French wo-
men understand it,) consoled her, and she wished to
impart its consolation and its immortality to her lover.
He became a convert, at the voice of that love which
had so often and so delightfully dissipated his serious
thoughts. One of his almoners, who has since become
Cardinal Latil, received, even in the chamber of the
repentant beauty, the confession and the remorse of the
two lovers. "Swear to me, (said Madame de Polas-
tron to the young prince,) that I shall be your last fault
and your last love upon earth, and that after me you
will love only the object of whom I cannot be jealous
God himself." The prince took the oath with his heart
apd his lips, and Madame Polastron, thus consoled t
carried with her last embrace his oath to the grave.
From this day he was an filtered man. But that prob-
ity of heart which he found in love, and that pietj
which he drew from death, only changed the nature of
COROXATTOJC OF PTIARLE8 X. 107
hie weaknesses. His new virtues had from that day
for him, the effect of his ancient faults. They con-
tracted his understanding without elevating his cour-
age. They delivered him over entirely to ecclesiastical
influences, which piously took advantage of his con-
science, as others had done of his levities.
Charles X. was admirably adapted for the task he
proposed to himself, upon ascending the throne. No
one in a shorter time, l>y any possible maneuvering,
could so effectually have ruined his own fortunes and
those of all who belonged to him. September 27, 1824,
he made his first public entry into Paris, on horseback,
and in the month of May following, he was crowned at
Rheims, where many ancient customs, and some ridic-
ulous usages, were revived. For instance, the vial con-
taining the holy oil, (which was said to have been
brought, in former ages, by a dove from heaven,) was
again restored. Power was scarcely in his grasp, be-
fore threats were held out to those who should dare to
question the royal will, or oppose the king's govern-
ment. Charles X. hoped to establish an absolute
despotism among the people of France. After more
than a quarter of a century of bloodshed, revolution,
anarchy, civil and foreign warfare, this was the result
of the great lesson. Humanity sighs as it contemplates
the incapacity of dunces in a school where the dullest
may find instruction if they will. The people, natur-
ally enough, refused to be coerced into a love of his
majesty's government, and his majesty, with character-
istic obstinacy, declared his resolution "to be unalter
aide." France had positively to do its work ove?
again from the beginning!
UESTORA:] IN UF TIIK UOUKBONS.
The royal family were extremely unpopular. Tha
utmost indifference, if not actual aversion, was mani-
fested when they appeared in public. The following
account of their appearance at the races, near Paris, in
1826, is from the pen of an eye-witness, and gives A
graphic illustration of the public opinion. "During
the heats, accompanied by a young American friend, I
had strolled among the royal equipages, in order to
examine their magnificence, and returning toward the
course, we came out unexpectedly at a little open
space, immediately at one end of the pavilion, in
which the royal family was seated.' There were not a
dozen people near us, and one of these was a sturdy
Englishman, evidently a tradesman, who betrayed a
keen and a truly national desire to get a look at the
king. The head of a little girl was just visible above
the side of the pavilion, and my companion, who, by a
singular accident, not long before, had been thrown into
company with les enfans de France,* (as the royal
children are called,) informed me that it was Mademoi-
selle d' Artois, the sister of the heir presumptive. lie
had given me a favorable account of the children,
whom he represented as both lively and intelligent, and
I changed my position a little, to get a better look of
the face of this little personage, who was not twenty
feet from the spot where we stood. My movement at-
tracted her attention, and, after looking down a moment
into the small area in which we were inclosed, she
disappeared. Presently a lady looked over the balus-
trade, and our Englishman seemed to be on tenter-
hooks. Some thirty or forty French gathered round lie
* CiiiiUreu of .Fraucti.
Immediately, ana i picsu-ne ii was inuagnt none but
loyal subjects could manifest so much desire to gaze
at the family, especially as cue or two of the French
clapped the little princess, whose head now appeared
and disappeared again, as if she were earnestly press
ing something on the attention of those within the
pavilion. In a moment, the form of a pale and sickly-
looking boy was seen, the little girl, who was a year or
two older, keeping her place at his side. The boy was
raised on the knee of a melancholy-looking and rather
hard-featured female of fifty, who removed his straw
hat, in order to salute us. 'There are the Dauphine*
and the Due de Bordeaux,' whispered my companioa
who knew the person of the former by sight. The
Dauphine looked anxiously, and I thought mournfully,
at the little cluster we formed directly before her, as if
waiting to observe in what manner, her nephew would
be received. Of course my friend-and myself, who were
in the foreground, stood uncovered ; as gentlemen we
ould not do less, nor as foreign gentlemen could we
ery well do more. Not a Frenchman, however, even
touched his hat! On the other hand, the Englishman
straddled his legs, gave a wide sweep with his beaver.
und uttered as hearty a hurrah as if he had been cheer
ing a member of Parliament who gave gin in his beer.
The effect of this single, unaccompanied, unanswered
cheer, was both ludicrous and painful. The poor fel-
low himself seemed startled at hearing his own voice
amid so profound a stillness, and checking his zeal aa
unexpectedly as he had commenced its exhibition, he
looked furiously around him, and walked surlily away
* Wife of the heir apparent
RESTORATION ofr THE BOUKBONB.
Tho Danphine followed him with her eyes There
was no mistaking his gaitered limbs, dogged mien, and
florid countenance ; he clearly was not French, and
those that were, as clearly turned his enthusiasm into
ridicule. 1 felt sorry for her, as with a saddened face,
she set down the boy, and withdrew her own head
within the covering of the pavilion. The little Mad-
emoiselle d'Artois kept ner bright looks, in a sort of
wonder, on us, until the circumspection of those around
her gave her a hint to disappear. This was the first
direct and near view I got of the true state of popular
feeling in Paris, toward the reigning family. Accord-
ing to the journals in the interest of the court, enthusi-
asm was invariably exhibited whenever any of their
princes appeared in public."
The affairs of France were fast hastening to a crisis.
Charles X., in 1829, appointed Prince Polignac to the
head of the administration, a man known to entertain
the most arbitrary purposes. Prince Polignac was
supposed to he an illegitimate son of Charles X., by a
lady of the court of his brother, Louis XVI. The king
had long desired to make him prime minister, despite
the views of the people. Never had a ministry in
any country to encounter such a storm of virulence
and invective, as that which assailed the cabinet of
Prince Polignac. Charles more than shared the odium
thrown on his obnoxious favorite; his patronage of the
Jesuits and monastic orders, his revival of austere and
rigid etiquette in his court, and his marked dislike oi
thopo who had acquired eminence in tho Revolution, or
.under Napoleon, were circumstances which rendered
unpopular with the great bulk of the nation so
WAR IN AmrEBB. Ill
ib.g estranged from the Bourbons and their policy.
Polignac defied the storm ; but unfortunately, as the
contest continued, he departed from the course of
caution and prudence, probably because injustice had
driven him into anger, and he soon furnished his
adversaries with just grounds for continued hostility.
When the chambers assembled, the royal speech was a
direct attack on the first principles of the constitution,
concluding \vith a threat of resuming the concessions
made by the charter, which was notoriously impotent,
and therefore supremely ridiculous. A very uncourtly
\iply was voted by the chamber of deputies, after a
very animated debate, by a majority of forty. The
only alternative now left was a dissolution of the
chambers, or a change of the ministry ; Charles X.
chose the former, trusting that events might turn the
popular current, and give him a more manageable
chamber at a new election.
Charles and his minister appear to have hoped that
their unpopularity would be overcome, and their fu-
ture projects facilitated, by gratifying the taste of the
French people for military glory. An armament was
therefore prepared with extraordinary care, and sent
against Algiers, under the pretext that the dey had in-
sulted the honor of France. The success of the ex-
pedition corresponded with the exertions made to
insure it ; the city of Algiers was taken after a very
slight resistance, the dey was sent prisoner to Italy,
and his vast treasures remained at the disposal of the
conquerors. It was reasonable that the maritime pow-
ers should feel jealous at the establishment of French
garrisons and colonies in northern Africa ; to allay
112 RESTORATION OK TH K U--URBON8.
their suspicions, a promise \va uude that the occupa
tion of Algiers should be merely temporary ; but the
I'Yench nation formed such un infatuated attachment
to their conquest, that they have kept it ever since,
though it costs an annual waste of life and treasure,
without conferring any appreciable advantage either
on Africa or on France. Polignac, relying on the
moral effect which the conquest of Algiers would
produce, dissolved the chan hers, but with the same
infatuation which seems to hve directed all his move-
ments, he at the same time dismissed the only two
moderate members of his cabinet, and supplied their
places by the most unpopular men in France. Such a
course, as ought to have been foreseen, more than
counterbalanced any benefit n'hich the ministers might
have gained from the conquest of Algiers; the elec-
tions left them in a miserable minority, and matters
were brought to a crisis. The majority of the com-
mercial classes and landed proprietors in France
dreaded the renewal of civil commotions ; they knew
that there was an active republican party in the coun-
try, which, though not very numerous, was very ener-
getic; they feared, and not without reason, that the
triumph of this party would terminate in another revo-
lutionary struggle. But at the same time, these classes
were equally hostile to the restoration of the ancient
despotism, which they believed to be the object of the
king and his ministers. Had Charles X. declared that
he would be contented with the prerogatives of a con-
stitutional monarch, dismissed his obnoxious minis-
ters, and formed a cabinet of moderate men, the crisis
would have passed over without danger; unfortunately^
FREEDOM OF TUK J'KESS ABOLI8EED. 113
ruvi-e arbitrary councils prevailed ; Polignac and his
colleagues resolved to terminate the straggle by sub-
verting the constitution.
Charles X. was a gentlemanly and good-natured old
man, but obstinate and in his dotage. Seeing and
tearing the head-way which liberal opinions were mak-
ing in France, he had the folly to appoint a ministry,
each individual of vrliich was a known opponent of
liberal principles, and especially obnoxious to the
French people. The public press immediately opened
upon this ministr" *>\e most harassing and merciless
warfare. CharL~, Buoyed and irritated by the loud
and continued demonstrations of the public hatred,
with a degr.xz cf insanity to which we can hardly find
a parallel even in the folly of princes, determined to
abolish the freedom of the press, and silence these
voices of the nativii. On Monday morning, (July 26,
1830,) the Moniteur, the government paper, appeared
with a^ ordinance declaring, among other obnoxious
articles, that at all times the periodical press had been,
and it was its nature to be, only an instrument of dis-
order and sedition. It therefore declared that the free-
dom of the press was no longer to be permitted, but
that it was placed under the censorship of the govern-
ment. Upon the appearance of this execrable ordi-
nance, excitement and indignation flamed like a con-
flagration through every lane and alley of the city.
Thousands began to assemble around the reading-
rooms. The great thoroughfares leading to the public
squares of the city, to the garden of the Tuileries, and
the Palais Royal, were thronged with the roused mas>
ses, crowding fo ^icsts cents t of intelligence. Readers.
114 EKSTORAl'luN OF TiiK BOUBBOMU
mounted upon barrels and chairs, loudly read the
government ordinance to the gathering multitude.
As the police endeavored to arrest a man who was
reading the new laws to the excited crowd, he indig-
nantly replied, " I am only blowing the trumpet . if
you dislike the notes, go settle the matter with those
who composed the music." During the day, the ap-
pearance of serious popular commotion became more
and more threatening. As the shades of night dark-
ened the streets of the inflamed city, cries of " Live
the Constitution ! " " Down with the Bourbons ! "
u Death to the ministry ! " resounded through the
gloom. As the mounted troops of the king were driv-
ing the gathering people from one of the streets, the
populace seized upon a passing omnibus, overturned it,
and, throwing around it such articles of heavy furni-
ture as could be gathered from the adjoining dwellings,
formed a barricade which effectually arrested the pro-
gress of the troops. Behind this barricade they val-
iantly defended themselves with paving stones and
every missile within their reach. Instantaneously,
every mind saw the efficacy of this measure. The
lamps lighting the city were dashed, and the populace
toiled the livelong night in the mystery of darkness,
making arrangements for the conflict of the morrow.
Crowds of students from the military schools thronged
the streets, filling the midnight air with the Marseilles
Hymn, those spirit-stirring words, which, in the old
Revolution, so often roused the multitude to frenzy.
On the morning of the 27th, few of the journals ap-
peared, for the publication of those which were not
sanctioned by the minister of the interior was prohibited
THE ntOT feECOMT'B A RHVOLUTTOV. 115
by the police. Tlie proprietors of two journals printed
their papers in defiance of the ordinance, and the first
disturbance was occasioned by the police forcing an en-
trance into their establishments, breaking the presses,
scattering the types, and rendering the machinery un-
serviceable. So little was an insurrection anticipated,
that Charles, accompanied by the dauphin, went on a
hunting match to Rambouillet ; and his ministers neg-
lected the ordinary precaution of strengthening the
garrison of the capital.
Between six and seven o'clock in the evening, some
detachments of troops were sent to the aid of the
police ; this was the signal for commencing the con-
test ; several smart skirmishes took place between the
citizens and the soldiers, in which the latter were gen-
erally successful, so that Marmont, the military gover-
nor of Paris, wrote a letter to the king, congratulating
him on the suppression of the riot, while the minis-
ters issued their last ordinance, declaring Paris in a
state of siege. When night closed in, the citizens
destroyed every lamp in the city, thus securing the
protection of darkness for their preparation to renew
the struggle.
On the morning of the 28th, Marmont was aston-
ished to find that the riots which he had deemed
suppressed, had assumed the formidable aspect of a
revolution. The citizens were ready and organized for
a decisive contest ; they were in possession of the arse-
nal and the powder magazine ; they had procured
arms from the shops of the gunsmiths and the police
stations ; they erected barricades across the principal
itreets, and had selected leaders competent to direct
lit) RESTORATION Ofr THE
their exertions. Under these circumstances, the mat
ehal hesitated before taking any decisive step ; it \vai
noon before he had resolved how to act, and he then
determined to clear the streets by military force. lie
divided his troops into four columns, which he directed
to move in different directions, thus unwisely separat-
ing his forces, so that they could not act in concert.
Every step taken by the columns was marked by a
series of murderous conflicts ; they were assailed with
musketry from the barricades, from the windows and
tops of houses, from the corners of streets, and from
the narrow alleys and passages which abound in Paris.
When the cavalry attempted to charge, they were
overwhelmed with stones and articles of furniture
flung from the houses ; their horses stumbled in the
unpaved streets, or were checked by the barricades,
while the citizens, protected by their dwellings, kept up
a heavy fire, which the disheartened horsemen were
unable to return. Though the royal guards performed
their duty, the troops of the line showed great reluc-
tance to fire on the citizens, and hence the insurgents
were enabled to seize many important points with little
or no opposition. When evening closed, the troops
had been defeated in every direction ; they returned
to their barracks, weary, hungry, and dispirited ; by
some inexplicable blunder, no provision was made for
their refreshment, while every family in Paris vied in
supplying the insurgents with everything they wanted.
Marmont was now fully sensible of the perils of hia
situation ; he wrote to the infatuated king, represent
ing the dangerous condition of Paris, and soliciting
instructions ; the orders he received in reply
ftlfc K^tlFTt fcoxArAftTl. 11?
urged iiini to persevere. Tlie contest was renewed on
the morning of the third clay, the soldiers evincing
great feebleness, while the populace seemed animated
by a certainty of success. While the issue was yet
doubtful, two regiments of the line went over to the
insurgents in a body ; the citizens, thus strengthened,
rushed through the gap which this defection left in the
royal line, took the Louvre by assault, and soon com-
pelled the troops that remained faithful to the royal
cause, either to lay down their arms or evacuate Paris.
The Revolution was speedily completed by the instal-
lation of a provisional government ; measures were
adopted for the speedy convocation of the chambers,
and in a few hours the capital had nearly assumed its
oi'dinary aspect of tranquillity.
Charles and his ministers appear to have believed
that the country would not follow the example of
Paris. They were speedily convinced of their error;
the king was abandoned, not only by his courtiers,
but even by his household servants; he was forced to
emain helpless in his country-seat, until he was
dismissed to contemptuous exile by the national
commissioners.
The crash at Waterloo had scattered the Bonapartea
about the world as exiles. During: the reckless and
O
treacherous sway of Louis XVIII., and the foolhardy
reign of Charles X., the liberty, if not the lives of the
Bonapartes, and also the wreck of their estates, de-
pended on their absolute quietude. Among them,
Queen Tlortonse left the splendors to which she waa
accustomed, and with her two sons retired to Switzer-
land Escorted by an \ustrian officer, the queen
RESTORATION Of TttE
arrived at the eastern frontier. "I quitted, (snid she,)
the territory of France, from which the allied powerg
expelled rue, in haste, weak woman as I am, with my
two sons ; so much was I feared by them, that from
post to post the enemies' troops were under arms, as it
was said, to protect my safe passage." It was thus
that the young princes whose birth was welcomed by
the thunder of cannon, and who had grown up under
the shadow of the greatest throne in the world, saw all
the magnificence of royalty depart from them. "With
their youth, their country, their family, and their fu-
ture hopes, all seemed to disappear at once, and give
place to exile and the bitter trials of the world into
which they were entering by the gate of misfortune.
Augsburg, and afterward a house on the shores of the
Lake Constance, was the asylum to which Queen
Hortense retired. In this retreat she devoted herself
wholly to the education of her sons. Prince Louis
Napoleon was admitted into the camp at Thun, in the
canton of Berne, which the Swiss assembled every
year for the instruction and practice of engineer and
artillery officers, under the direction of Napoleon's
skillful officers. This instruction consisted not merely
in communicating information on the science, but in
actual maneuvers and expeditions among the glaciers,
in which the young prince, with his knapsack on his
back, took part, partaking of the bread of the common
soldier, and with his pick and compass in his hand.
" My son," says Queen Hortense, in one of her letters,
" is still with the pupils at Tlmn, engaged in making
military roc-oiiaist>a)icea in the mountains. They go
on foot ten or twelve leagues a day, and by night
LOUS NAl'UI.KOBT. 119
Bleep under a tent at the tout oi the glaciers." lie-
ceiviug such a mixed general and military education
as was supposed to be suitable for young men in their
circumstances, the two sons of Queen Hortense at-
tained the age of early manhood. Naturally a rest-
less, hair-brained character, no member of the dis-
persed Bonaparte family seems to have retained in
exile such a concentrated amount of the Emperor's
spirit as young Louis Napoleon. From his earliest
years he seems to have realized his position as a Bo-
naparte, and always entertained a conviction that he
would ultimately occupy a position in Europe commen-
surate with the dignity of his birth. Even before the
death of the Emperors son, (who, with the title of Duke
of Ueichstadt, was a virtual prisoner in Austria,) or of
his own elder brother, Louis Napoleon was altogether
their superior in every thing that concerned the active
assertion of the family claims ; and after their death,
precedence was converted into a sense of actual right.
By the terms of the decree concerning the succession,
he then assumed the first place in the second genera-
tion of Bonapartes the lawful heir after his uncle
Joseph and his father Louis, to all that could be re-
covered of tho imperial fortunes. He became the de-
clared imitator and executor of his uncle the ac-
knowledged' chief of the young Napoleonidse. Yet,
in many respects, lie seemed little fitted for this post
of honor. In person, he was the least like the Em-
peror of all the surviving Bonapartes ; the Beauhar-
nais features of his mother predominating in his
heavy, somber countenance, over whatever of th
120 KESTOKA110M OK iiiii UOUEBON8.
Napoleonic lie may have derived from his father. lint
his courage, self-confidence, and audacity, with a sol-
dierly good-nature and kindly susceptibility, rendered
him quite popular among the people of the free valleji
tf Switzerland, his adopted
SAPTEB III.
THl REIGN OF LOUIS PHIL1PPS
THE last of the memorable " three days J> of July
18.50, dawned upon Paris. The night before, princa
Polignac had been congratulated on having defeated
the insurgents. Charles X. felt so secure that he spent
& part of the evening playing whist. "The Parisians,
(said he,) are in a state of anarchy ; anarchy will ne-
cessarily bring them to my feet." But on the morn ing
of Wednesday, the 30th, the streets were filled with
people. Instead of the unarmed mobs, which had fled
bdfore the dragoons the preceding day, there now aj>-
peared throngs of well-armed citizens, marshaled here
and there in military array under active leaders,
either veteran generals of the old revolutionary armies
or enthusiastic students from the military schools.
From the venerable towers of N6tro Dame the tri-col-
ored flag of the Revolution was seen floating in the
breeze. The tri-colored cockade, the pledge of resist-
ance unto death, was upon every lint. The melan-
choly peal of the alarm-bells and the martial drum
collected the populace in innumerable rendezvous for
war. Anxiety and stern defiance sat on every coun-
tenance. Paris was a camp a bottle-field. The king
had in Paris and its 5imn<'d !;$(( vicinity, eighteen thou-
sand troops, veterans in war. To met these in deadly
6
122 THE ELiG.N Ol- 1 LOtlfc 1'HILLIl'PK.
conflict was no child's play. As soon us the morning
light was spread over the city, the sound ui' the
trumpet and martial drum was heard, as the regiments
of the king, in solid phalanx, marched from their head-
quarters at the Tuileries, with infantry, and artillery
and cavalry, to sweep the streets of the insurgent city
Then ensued scenes of murderous strife, such as have
seldom been exceeded in any conflict. The demon of
war rioted in every street of the city. Heavy can-
non mowed down the opposing multitude with hal!
and grape-shot. Bomb-shells demolished the houses
which afforded a covert to the assailing people. Well-
mounted troops, armed to the teeth, drove their bullets
into every eye that peeped from a window, and into
every hand that appeared from a turret.
It is not easy to imagine the havoc that must be
produced by the balls from heavy artillery boimding
over I he pavements of a crowded city, and tearing
their destructive way through parlors and chambers,
where affrighted mothers and babes were clustered
together. One lady had retired in terror to her cham-
ber and her bed, when a cannon-ball pierced the
house, passed through the bed and through her body,
and, scattering her mangled remains over the room,
continued unimpeded on its way of destruction and
carnage.
A female, as she observed the awful slaughter which
one of the king's cannon produced as it mowed down
the crowds in the streets, rushed to the cannon, pressed
her bosorn to its mouth, and, clasping it with her arms,
entreated the officer in t'oumu nd to desist. The sol-
diers endeavored to pull her away. >ut with irautic
rttrehgth she clung to the grin, declaring that, if they
would continue their slaughter, they should tire through
her body. The officer commanded the torch to be ap-
plied. The gunner shrank from the horrible deed.
'Fire! " shouted the officer, " or I will thrust my sword
through your body." The torch was applied, and
instantly the remains of this heroic woman were
scattered in fragments through the air.
The tumult was increasing. The conflict became
more bloody and determined. The streets were every-
where obstructed by barricades, and from the roofs
and windows of the houses, a shower of tiles, paving
stones, broken bottles, and even articles of furniture
rained on the heads of the unfortunate soldiery. Mar
rnont, who had been appointed to the command of the
troops, by Charles X., was, in a painful situation his
duty as a soldier required of him what was contrary to
his inclination as a man. To a deputation of citizens
who waited on him, he expressed his determination to
execute his orders. He said that the only way to stop
he effusion of blood was for the people of Paris to re-
urn to obedience. The deputation replied that there
couhl be no peace while Charles X. adhered to hie
tyrannical views no obedience to a king who tram-
pled on the rights of the people. Marmont sent a
message to the king, informing him of the interview
witli the deputation, and of the state of affairs. The
king was at St. Cloud, a short distance from Paris, en-
gairi-d in the chase. The only reply he made to the
inc.-** 1 !!*." 1 !' from Mannont was, a command to h'ght ou.
The infatuated monarch and his court seemed to have
no idea of the magnitude of the danger, and altho igfc
121 filK fcElGtt OF LotlS
they cotud hear the cannon roaring in the streets of
Paris, and knew that the people were in deadly con
llict with the soldiery, Charles X. eat down composed! j
to a game of whist.
All was confusion in Paris. It was not known ID
one quarter what was doing in another; there was
nobody to direct the insurrection ; no union, no au-
thority. It was a moment of anarchy ; for the ruya]
power was resisted, and no new one had yet arisen.
But it is the nature of society to struggle for order
even in the midst of discord. Some persons announced
in a placard, which \vas posted in several parts of the
city, that a provisional government had been formed,
at the head of which was General Lafayette. The
falsehood was soon discovered ; but it helped to sus-
tain the courage of the combatants : it showed what
people were thinking about.
The falsehood of one day became a verity on the
next. On the 31st of July, a proclamation was ad-
dressed to the Parisians, which began with this decla-
' O
ration "Inhabitants of Paris! Charles X. has ceased
to reign!" It announced the formation of a provi
sional government. Neither Lafayette nor the persona
temporarily intrusted with authority, were prepared to
proclaim a republic. They were uncertain what course
to pursue. While they hesitated, Charles X. might
take advantage of the circumstance and regain hie
authority. Affairs were in a critical state. It was
finally determined to invite the Duke of Orleans to
the head of the nation, with the title of Lieutenant
General. A deputation was sent, to him for that pur-
pose, lie hesitated, or appeared to hesitate. He asked
E OK OHM: IKS X. 125
fin a briei' period to deliberate, and sent to consult
Talleyrand, whose answer was "Let him accept,"
and the duke accepted. A proclamation was imme-
diately published in the name of the Duke of Orleans,
in which. he announced to the Parisians, that having
complied with the wishes of the representatives of the
people, in accepting power, his h'rst act would he to
assemble the chambers to consult about the means of
securing the observance of law and the maintenance
of the rights of the nation. The deputies immediately
issued a proclamation to the French people, announ-
cing that France was free! that absolute power had
endeavored to raise its standard, but that the heroic
population of Paris had dashed it to the ground.
In the mean time Charles X. was on his way to
exile. On the 30th of July, it was known at St. Cloud
that the king's authority no longer existed, and the
people who were about him dropped off rapidly, and
he was left almost alone. He left St. Cloud at the
head of a few followers, and started toward the sea-
coast ; but he lingered on the way, hoping to hear that
his grandson, in whose favor he wrote a formal act of
abdication, would be accepted as king of France. It
was two weeks before he left the soil of France. No
one showed him any personal disrespect, but he could
not but perceive that his expulsion froul *he kingdom
gave almost universal satisfaction.
In determining the character of the new govern-
ment, all looked to the venerable Lafayette. He pos-
sessed immense influence, and his advice was decisive.
He feared that France was not prepared to become a
republic. He believed that a ?inma-rchy was ncccssarv
126 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE.
to protect the country from anarchy. He considered
the elevation of the Dnke of Orleans to the vacant
throne, with the concession of important rights to the
people, to be the surest guarantee of the public safety.
A France needs a throne surrounded by republican in-
stitutions," said he. Accordingly the Duke of Orleans
was, on the 9th of August, invited to become King of
the French. lie gave his acceptance in these terms :
"I have read with great attention the declaration of
the Chamber of Deputies and the act of adhesion of
the Chamber of Peers. 1 have weighed and medi-
tated every expression therein. I accept, without re-
striction or reservation, the clauses and engagements
contained in that declaration, and the title of the King
of the French which it confers on me, and am ready
to make oath to observe the same." lie then rose, took
off his glove, uncovered his head, and pronounced the
following oath: "In the presence of God, I swear
faithfully to observe the constitutional charter, with
the modifications set forth in the declaration ; to gov-
ern only by the laws; to cause good und exact justice
to be administered to every one according to his right;
arid to act in every thing with the sole view to the
interest, the welfare, and the glory of the French na-
tion." lie then appeared on the balcony before the
masses <if the people, accompanied by Lafayette, into
whose arms he threw himself "as into the arms of the
nation personified." The veteran of revolutions, point-
ing to the new king, exclaimed "This is the prince
whom we wanted : it is the best of republics!" And
BO the Duke of Orleans ascended the throne fts Louis
Philippe I., King of the French
'18?
hotiis t'hilippe of Orle&ns> Duk& of Valoia at his
birth, Duke of Chartres on the death of his grand ;
father, (1785,) Duke of Orleans on the death of hid
father, (1 794,) and King of the French in 1830, was borti
October 6, 1773. He was one of live children. His
brothers were the Duke of Moutpeusier, born in 1775,
and the Count of Beaujolais, born in 1779 ; his sisters
were Marie Caroline, who died in infancy, and Eu-
genie Adelaide, her twin sister. His father was Louis
Philippe Joseph, Duke of Orleans, better known under
his revolutionary title of Philip Egalite. The Orleans
branch of the Bourbon family, originated in a younger
son of Louis X11J., created Duke of Orleans by his
older brother Louis XVI., and of whom Louis Philippe
was the grandson's great-grandson.
Whatever were the personal and political faults of
citi/en Egalite, he was a kind father, and beloved by
his children. Desirous of imparting to his family a
sound education, in which he himself had had the
misfortune to be deficient, he committed them to the
superintendence of his mistress, Madame de Sillery
better known by her later acquired title of Countess de
Genlis. Notwithstanding the errors of this lady, she
was eminently qualified, by her talents and disposi-
tions, to be an instructress of youth. She appears to
have endeavored to make up for her own misconduct
by a scrupulous regard to the manners and morals of
her pupils. The principles on which she based her
plans of education were considerably in advance of the
age. Mini such as art- only now beginning r,o be gem-r-
ally understood. She considered that it was of the
ttrst importance to surround children, almost from
1-3 1'Hfc RKlGN OF LOCIS
their cradle, with happy and cheering influences, to the
exclusion of every thing likely to contaminate their
minds or feelings. It was necessary, above all things
to implant in them a universal spirit of love a love
of God and his works, the consciousness that all was
from the hand of an Almighty Creator and Preserver
v ho willed the happiness of hi*- creatures. To excite
this feeling in her young charge, she took every oppor-
tunity of arousing the sentiment of wonder with respect
to natural phenomena, and then of explaining the
seeming marvels on principles which an awakening
intelligence could be led to comprehend. The other
means adopted to form the character of her young
pupils the Duke of Yalois, Duke of Montpensier,
the Count Beaujolais, and their sister the Princess
Adelaide were equally to be admired. While re-
ceiving instructions in different branches of polite
learning, and in the Christian doctrines and graces,
from properly qualified tutors, they learned, without
labor or pain, to speak English, German and Italian,
by being attended by domestics who respectively con-
versed in these languages. Nor was their physical
education neglected. The boys were trained to endure
all kinds of bodily fatigue, and taught a variety of
useful and amusing industrial exercises. At St. Leu,
a pleasant country residence near Paris, where the
family resided under the charge of Madame de Genlis,
the young princes cultivated a small garden under the
direction of a German gardener, while they were in-
structed in botany and the practice of medicine by a
medical gentleman, who was the companion of their
rambles. They had also ateliers, or workshops, ir
which they were taught turning, basket-n.uking, weav-
ing, and carpentry. The young Duke of Vrdois took
pleasure in these pursuits as what boy would not,
under proper direction, and if allowed scope for his
ingenuity ? He excelled in cabinet-making ; and, as-
sisted only by his brother, the Duke of Moutpensier,
made a handsome cupboard, and a table with drawers,
for a poor woman in the village of St. Leu.
Louis Philippe passed from the hands of his senti-
mental, but by no means incompetent or unskillful
tutor, to step at once into the thorny path of active
life. At an early age he entered the army, and in
1785, inherited the colonelcy of the regiment of cav-
alry which bore his name. In 1791 he commanded the
fortress of Valenciennes. His attention to military
duty had acquired for him the respect of hia superiors,
and was held up as a pattern to the service. Jlis
ability to say exactly what the occasion required, and
which, while king of the French, so distinguished him,
was early developed. When he heard that the right
of primogeniture had been abolished, he turned to his
younger brother, the Duke of Montpensier, and em-
bracing him, exclaimed " Ah ! now we are brothers
in every respect." When an old officer went to Val-
enciennes, to pay his respects to the new commandant,
the veteran exclaimed " Ah! Monsieur, I have never
before had the pleasure of seeing so young a general
officer ; how have you contrived to be made a general
BO soon? " Louis Philippe replied " By being a son
of him who made a colonel of you." The veteran
laughed, shook hands, and they became friends aton'.-e.
While Louis Philippe, now Duke of Char-tree, was in
ibihfi iga!/-8t the armies which menaced the tottering
fabric of 'iie French monarchy, the Devolution wa&
hasty ing to its crisis. Monarchy being extinguished
and It e king and his family placed in confinement, a
decrr? of banishment was hastily passed against aU
othe. members of the Bourbon race. The Duke ol
Chart. '8 earnestly besought his father to take ad van
tage j the decree of banishment, and with his family
seek -A retreat in a foreign country. " You will assur-
edly, (said he, addressing the Duke of Orleans,) find
yourself in an appalling situation. Louis XVI. is
about to be accused before an assembly of which you
are a member. You must sit before the king as hts
judge. Reject the ungracious duty, withdraw with
your family to America, and seek a calm retreat far
from the enemies of France, and there await the return
of happier days." To these persuasives the Duke of
Orleans lent a deaf ear; he either considered ,it to be
inconsistent with his honor and his duty to desert his
post at tl e approach of danger ; or, what is as prob-
able, he .jxpected that by a turn of affairs he might be
elevated to the first place of the nation, whatever
should be its form of government. Nevertheless,
moved by the entreaties of his son, Orleans desired
him to consult an influential member of the Assembly
on the subject, and let him know the result. The
deputy, however, declined to express his opinion. " I
am incompetent," said he, "to give your father any
advice. Our positions are dissimilar. I myself seek
redress for personal injuries ; your father, the Duke of
Orleans, ought to obey the dictates of his conscience as
a prince of his duties as a citizen." The undecided
EXECUTION oy LnriF nrHJPPE'8 FATHER. 133
answer neither influenced the judgment of the Duke of
Orleans, nor corroborated the arguments of his son.
Impressed to the fullest extent with the duties of a citi-
zen, he felt that he could not honorably recede ; and
that a man, whatever his rank might be, who inten-
tionally abandoned his country, was deserving of the
penalties reserved for traitors. Perceiving that his
father made his determination a point of honor a
case of political conscientiousness he desisted from
further solicitation, embraced him for the last time,
and returned to the army.
Events now rapidly followed each other. On the
21st of January, 1793, Louis XVI. was carried to the
scaffold, and a few months thereafter, the Duke of Or-
leans was seized on the charge of conspiring against the
nation. On the 6th of November, he was brought be-
fore the revolutionary tribunal, and, after a mock trial,
condemned to death on a series of charges, of all which
he was notoriously guiltless. Viewing the proceedings
of his judges with contempt, he begged, as an only fa-
vor, that the sentence might be executed without delay.
The indulgence was granted, and he was led, at four
o'clock, when the daylight was about failing, from the
court to the guillotine. The courage of this intrepid
mar. faltered not at the place of execution. When the
executioner took off his coat, he calmly observed to the
nssistants who were going to draw off his boots, "It is
o o
only loss of time ; you will remove them more easily
from the lifeless limbs." In a few minutes he was no
more.
previous to the death of his father, the
cs, along with his friend
132 THE BEUJN OF LOUIS PH1LLIPPB.
Dumouriez, became assured that the cause of uio4^ ratios
was lost, and looked with apprehension on the Reign
of Terror which had already begun to manifest itself.
There was little time for deliberation as to their course.
Being summoned to appear before the Committee of
Public Safety, and knowing that citations of this nature
were for the most part equivalent to condemnation,
both instantly tied toward the French frontier. The
fugitives were hotly pursued, but were fortunate in
making their escape into the Belgian Netherlands, at
that time belonging to Austria.
The next six or seven years of his life was a period
of great hardship and obscurity. Hated by the royal-
ists for refusing to serve with the Aust.rians, and for
his father's conduct during the Revolution, he was re-
lentlessly pursued by the republican government; in
addition to which, lie was suffering from narrow
means. Traveling incognito through the Low Conn-
tries, he joined his sister in Switzerland, and pro-
ceeded to Zurich. Having been recognized, the party
were obliged to quit the city, on account, of the fears
of magistrates and the excitement of the emigrants.
The exiles next took up their abode in a small house
near Zug; but the duke was once more identified by
some emigrants passing through the town, and the
authorities of Berne compelled his removal. His sister
procured admission into a convent; the duke took
leave of the few friends who had hitherto accom-
panied his fortunes, sold his horses to raise money,
and, attended by a faithful servant who refused to
leave him, traversed Switzerland on foot, knapsack on
baclw .Muster and servant reached the celebrated
LOUIS PHILIPPE A TEACHER. 133
monastery of St. Gothard, tired and footsore; the
Prince rang the bell, and craved refreshment. "There
is no admittance here for travelers on foot," was the
reply ; "certainly not for men of your appearance.
Yonder is the house for you," and the monk pointed
with his finger to a shed in which some muleteers
were eating cheese, and slammed the door in the
Prince's face. At Gordona, on another occasion, du-
ring a bitter night, Louis Philippe presented himself
at a farm-house, without luggage, and in somewhat
damaged attire. He asked hospitality, and, after
much demurring, he was allowed to have a bed of
straw in a barn. The future king slept soundly uiitL
the break of day, when he awoke to find a young man
armed with a gun pacing the floor as sentinel. The
appearance of the traveler had excited suspicion in
the house, and orders had been given to shoot him if
he attempted mischief.
It was while pursuing this somewhat ignoble course
of life, that a plan was suggested to the young duke
which promised immediate if not lasting relief from
his great embarrassment. A gentleman named Cha-
bot-Latour had been invited from Paris to take a pro-
fessorship in the college of Keichenau. M. Chabot-
Latour failed to keep his engagement, and, by the
contrivance of the Prince's friends, it was arranged
that the Duke of Chartres should appear in the name
and place of the absent candidate. The Prince ac-
cordingly presented himself for examination, and was
unanimously elected, after receiving great commenda-
tion for the ability and knowledge he had evinced
throughout the oideal. He was then twenty -two yean
134 TDK REIGN OF LOUIS PllLLLIl'i'E.
of age ; bis salary was about f 275 a-year, a larger sal
ary than was usual iu Switzerland ; and for tbat sum he
taught history, geography, mathematics, and the Eng-
lish language. For the space of one year during which
he held the professorship, none but the director of
the institution was aware of the teacher's rank. Louis
Philippe was quietly instructing the youth of Rieche-
nau, when he received news of his father's melancholy
death, and of his own accession to an empty, blood-
stained title. He threw up his appointment at once,
and in June, 1794, retired to Bremgarten. He carried
along with him an honorable testimony of the services
he had rendered to the academy, and was justly proud
of the document when he afterward sat upon the throne
of France, reputed the wisest monarch of his time.
Melancholy, and weary of his fate, the exile pined to
quit Europe, and in a new world " to forget the great-
ness and the sufferings which had been the compan-
ions of his youth." But he was literally without a far-
thing. A fruMid wrote on his behalf to Robert Morris,
who had been embassad or to France from the United
States. He had been acquainted with Egalit6, and was
then at Hamburgh, about to return to his native
country. Mr. Morris answered the application with
promptitude and kindness. He offered the Prince a
free passage to America, his services when the exile
should arrive there, and, at the same time, he trans-
mitted an order for $500 to defray the expenses of
the journey to Hamburgh. The Prince accepted
Mr. Morris's friendship in the spirit in which it was
offered. " I am quite disposed to labor in order to
make myself independent," he wrote to his benefactor:
LOUIS rHlLIl'l'E TRAVELING ON PCOT. 135
44 1 scarcely entered upon life when the greatest inisfor-
tuues assailed me ; but, thank God, they have not dis-
couraged me. I feel a great happiness in my re-
verses that my youth has not given me time to attach
myself too much to my position, or to contract habit*
of life difficult to be broken, and that I have been de-
prived of my fortune before I was able to abuse 01
even use it." It was well and royally said. But how
much clearer the intellectual vision of the youth than
the maturer eyesight of the man ! On the 10th of
March, 1795, Louis Philippe quitted Bremgarten and
reached Hamburgh at the end of the month.
At Hamburgh the Prince missed his friend, who
was then employed upon a diplomatic mission in Ger-
many. Some months must elapse before Mr. Morrie
could return to Hamburgh, and the young adventurer
resolved to employ the interval in exploring Northern
Europe. The undertaking half a century ago was
associated with difficulties unknown to the traveler of
to-day. He visited the duchies of Holstein and Schles-
wig, the island of Zealand, Copenhagen, and Elsinore,
and in every place exhibited an honest zeal for infor-
mation, that put -suspicion to sleep. From Denmark he
crossed to Sweden, and thence passed into Norway,
making excursions, that were remembered long after-
ward, to the iron and copper mines of that country.
The northward journey did not end even here. The
traveler was not content until he had seen the wonders
of the Maelstrom, and .had advanced some degrees
beyond the Arctic Circle. Returning southward, the
Prince traversed on foot the desert which separates
the Northern Ocean from the river Tornea. Fifteen
136 THE BEION OF LOUIS PHILLIPPB.
days were occupied in the journey, during which time
no other nourishment could be procured than the mill?
and flesh of the reindeer. It must be acknowledged
that Louis Philippe was now turning the misfortunes
of his family to the most profitable account. By
bringing himself into contact with every variety of
life, and adding the treasures of personal observation
to the stores of learning with which his mind was
fraught, he was preparing himself for that course of
events which afterward gave him a powerful influence
over the destinies of his country and of Europe. The
bold and rugged scenery of these arctic regions, and
the simple and unpretending kindness of the inhab-
itants, must have produced a vivid impression upon a
young man of his rank and previous pursuits, sent
forth under such circumstances to commence his novi-
tiate in the world. Picking up knowledge, and enlarg-
ing the range of his acquirements at every step, the
youth returned to Fredericstadt, in Holstein, at which
town he received the gratifying intelligence that the
executive directory of France were prepared to grant
liberty to his brothers, who had been kept close pris-
oners since their father's death, upon condition that the
Duke of Orleans with them would consent to banish-
ment from Europe. The consent was given as soon as
asked, and on the 24th of October, 1796, Louis Phil
ippe landed in Philadelphia : it was not until the 7th
of February following, that, after a cruel and protracted
absence, the brothers met in the same city, and found
in their restoration to one another, some consolation for
the sufferings long endured by all. Among their first
visits was one to Gen. Washington at Mount Vernon,
LOUIS PHILIPPE IN AMERICA. 137
who proposed for the exiled princes an itinerary jour
ney to the western country, 'and furnished them with
some letters of introduction for persons upon the route.
They made the necessary preparations for a long tour,
which they performed on horseback, each of them
carrying in a pair of saddle-bags, after* the fashion of
that period, whatever he might require in clothes or
other articles for his personal comfort The traveling-
map of the three princes is still preserved, and fur-
nishes convincing proof that it has passed through
severe service. The various routes followed by the
travelers are strongly depicted in red ink ; and by their
extent and direction they show the great enterpi-ise
displayed by three young strangers to acquire a just
knowledge of the country, at a time when the difficul-
ties of traveling over a great part of the route were
enough to discourage many a hardy American. Louis
Philippe, in afterward showing this map to an
American gentleman, mentioned that he possessed an
accurate account, showing the expenditure of every
dollar he disbursed in the United States! It is an
example of business habits worthy of all praise and
imitation. This attention to the important concern of
personal expenditure was one of the characteristic
features of "Washington ; and both of these celebrated
men were, no doubt, penetrated with the conviction
that exactitude is essential to success.
At the period in which the journey of the princes
was performed, the back settlements of the United
States were in a comparatively rude condition, and
could not be traversed without undergoing many hard-
ships. From Washington they went to Nashville,
138 THE KEIGN OF LOUIS PH1LLIPPE.
Louisville, Wheeling, Pittsburg and Niagara Falls,
At Bairdstown the party were detained by the illness
of Duke Beaujolais. Forty years afterward, when
Louis Philippe was king of France, he sent to Bairds--
town a handsome clock as a memorial of the kindness
with which he was entertained there. In their journey
from Erie to Buffalo, they met a band of Seneca In-
dians, to whom they were indebted for a night's hospi-
tality. The chief assured the travelers that he would
be personally responsible for every article they might
intrust to his care ; but that he would not answer for
his people unless this precaution was used. Accord-
ingly, every thing was deposited with the chief sad
dies, bridles, blankets, clothes and money ; all which
being faithfully produced in the morning, the day's
journey was commenced. But the party had not pro-
ceeded far upon the route, when they missed a favorite
dog, which they had not supposed to be included in
the list of contraband articles requiring a deposit in
this aboriginal custom-house, and had therefore left it
at liberty. He was a singularly beautiful animal, and
having been the companion in imprisonment of the
two younger brothers, at the castle of St. Jean, they
were much attached to him. The Duke immediately
returned to seek and reclaim the dog ; and the chief,
without the slightest embarrassment, said to him, in
answer to his representations, "If you had intrusted
the dog to me last night, he would have been ready for
you this morning ; but we will find him." And he im-
mediately went to a kind of closet, shut in by a board,
and on removing this, the raithful animal leaped out
upon his masters.
LOTUS PHILIPPE IN LOVE. 139
Scarcely resting at Buffalo, they crossed to Fort Erie
on the British side, and then repaired to the Falls of
Niagara. This grand natural object, as may be sup-
posed, engaged the careful examination of the princes,
and one of them, the Duke of Montpensier, who ex-
celled in drawing, made a sketch of the cataract for
his sister. The party then proceeded to Canandaigua,
through a country almost in a state of nature. Con-
tinuing their route to Geneva, they procured a boat,
and embarked upon the Seneca Lake, which they
ascended to its head ; and from thence they made their
way to Tioga Point, upon the Susquehannah each
of the travelers carrying his baggage, for the last
twenty-five miles, upon his back. From Tioga the
party proceeded to Wilkesbarre, and thence they
crossed the country to Philadelphia. When in that
city, Louis Philippe became enamored of a Miss "W ,
and solicited her father's permission to pay her his
addresses, who is said to have replied, in substance :
" As a penniless exile, you are no match for my daugh-
ter ; and as a prince of the blood royal of France, you
are far too great a one." It is a curious coincidence
that the Princess of Naples, whom Louis Philippe
married some years after he left America, very strongly
resembled Miss "W . Many years after, when king
of France, he distinguished by his attentions two
young gentlemen of the W family, who visited Paris
in their travels, recalling his own sojourn in Philadel-
phia when a homeless stranger. During the residence
of the Duke of Orleans and his brothers at Phila-
delphia, in 1797, the city was visited by that fatal epi-
demic, yellow fever, but from which the unfortunate
140
THE KEIGN OF LOUTS PHILLIPPJS.
princes found it impossible to tiy, on account of a
lack of funds. From this unpleasant and perilous
dilemma they were happily relieved in the course of
September, by a remittance from their mother. With
a purse thus opportunely reinforced, they now under-
took another journey, which this time led them to the
eastern part of the United States, finally arriving in
New York. Here the brothers learned that a new law
had just decreed the expulsion of all the members of
the Bourbon family yet remaining in France from that
country ; and that their mother had been deported to
Spain. Their object was now to join her ; but owing
to their peculiar circumstances, and to the war between
England and Spain, this object was not easily attained.
To avoid the French cruisers upon the coast, they de-
termined to repair to New Orleans, and there to find a
conveyance for Havana, whence they thought they
could reach the mother country. They set out,
therefore, for Pittsburg in December, 1797.
At Carlisle, Louis Philippe was thrown from his
wagon and considerably injured. In early life, as we
have seen, he had learned to perform the operation of
bleeding. Immediately perceiving that his situation
required depletion, and making his way, as he best
could, to the tavern, he requested permission of the
landlord to perform the operation in his house, and to
be furnished with linen and water. The family was
kind, and supplied him with every thing he required ;
and he soon relieved himself by losing a quantity of
blood. The circumstance, however, had attracted
general attention, in consequence of the accident to the
wagon, and of the injury to the traveler, and
LOU1B PHTLUTE ItETUiaSB TO EUROPE. 141
more from the extraordinary occurrence of self-bleed-
ing ; and a large crowd had collected in the tavern tc
watch the result of the operation. It is probable the
curious spectators thought he was a Yankee doctor,
going to the west to establish himself. Satisfied
with the surgical ability which the stranger had just
displayed, they proposed to him to remain at Carlisle,
and to commence there his professional career, promis-
ing to employ him, and assuring him that his prospect
of success would be much more favorable than in the
regions beyond the mountains.
When our party reached Pittsburg, they found the
Monongahela frozen, but the Alleghany open. They
purchased a keel-boat, then lying in the ice, and with
much labor and difficulty transported it to the point
where the two rivers met and formed the Ohio. There
the party embarked on that river, which they de-
scended along with three persons to aid them in the
navigation, and arrived at New Orleans in February,
1798.
From New Orleans they embarked on board an
American vessel for Havana. Upon their passage
they were boarded by an English frigate under French
colors. Until the character of the cruiser was ascer-
tained, the three brothers were apprehensive that they
might be recognized and conducted to France. How-
ever, when it was discovered, on one side, that the
visitor was an English ship, and, on the other, that the
three yonng passengers were the princes of the house
of Orleans, confidence was restored, and the captain
nastened to receive them on board his vessel, where he
treated them with distinction and conducted them to
THE BEION OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE.
Havana. The devoted young men reached Cuba, to be
immediately expelled from it by the captain -general of
the island. Orders had been leceived to deny them
hospitality. In their despair, the princes resolved to
seek shelter in a British colony. They proceeded to
the Bahamas, thence to Halifax, and finally set sail for
England. They reached London in February, 1800.
Their destination, however, was Spain, not England.
They obtained a passage to Barcelona, and were within
hail of that dear mother whom they had traveled so
far to comfort with their presence. They were, never-
theless, not permitted to land at Barcelona ; and the
poor lady was not even told that they had reached tbs
harbor on their affectionate pilgrimage. The princes
returned to England, and took up their residence at
Twickenham. Here the exiles had at length an oppor-
tunity of enjoying some repose in the midst of the
best English society. They were treated with the
greatest kindness by all classes, from royalty down-
ward, and, by their unaffected manners, gained uni-
versal esteem. But neither the polite attentions of the
English people, nor the splendors of London fashion-
able life, could obliterate the recollections of their
mother from their hearts. After several years of quiet
enjoyment, sorrow again visited Louis Philippe. Hit
brother, the Duke of Montpensier, died (in 1807) of
consumption. The funeral was scarcely over before
the Count of Beaujolais was attacked with the same
disease, and ordered to a warmer climate. Louis Phil-
ippe accompanied the invalid to Malta, and reached the
island in time to find a final resting place for the young
iufferer. The Count of Beaujolais died at Viletta,
MABBIAOK OF LOUIS PHILIPPIB.
in 1808. Fortunately for Louis Philippe he was not
left aione in the world. He had still a sister. After
fifteen years' separation, brother and sister had
again met. Their meeting was most affecting. They
rowed to each other never again to separate, and the
row was sacredly kept. In company they proceeded
once more in search of their mother. With difficulty
they managed to convey a letter to her, fixing a ren-
dezvous at Minorca, and in September, 1809, they
landed at that island, to embrace at last the object of
their long and anxious search. With her, by invitation
of King Ferdinand of Naples, they took up their
residence with the royal family at Palermo. After a
brief interval, a marriage alliance was formed between
Louis Philippe and the second daughter of Ferdinand.
(It is curious that before the downfall of the French
monarchy, an alliance had been contemplated between
the young Duke of Chartres and the daughter of Na-
ples, then unborn.) Whatever doubts may arise about
the marriages of other potentates, there can be little
question that the union between Louis Philippe and
the princess Marie Amelie was a love-match. The
Duke of Orleans was then an exile, with an income
both narrow and precarious, and without the remotest
appearance of succeeding even to his patrimonial prop'
erty. The king of Naples was shorn of the principal
half of his dominions. He was only supported in the
other by the power of Great Britain ; upon whose
allowance he was indeed living, and whose exertions
the folly of the court was doing its best to neutralize.
Worldly objects would scarcely 1-e contemplated by
either party : looking at their rank, their prospect^
Ill- THE T :TCTGX OF i.or-s niTr.: TPPF:.
and the probability of a family, the ninrriagc was
scarcely a prudent one. However, marriage goes by
destiny ; and, notwithstanding some objections and
delays by the queen, consent was obtained, and on the
25th of November, 1809, the Duke of Orleans and the
Princess Marie Amelie were married, in the old Nor-
man chapel of the Palazzo Eeale.
Before the marriage was permitted, however, the
queen of Naples had employed Louis Philippe on
one of her political schemes. When the popular insur-
rection against Napoleon took place in Spain, she
thought of getting her second son appointed regent
of the kingdom ! Apparently proceeding upon " the
one down and t'other come up" principle, she dis-
patched her son Prince Leopold and Louis Philippe
to Gibraltar, that the Spaniards might take one if they
rejected the other. The princes were permitted to
iand ; but Sir Hew Dalryrnple refused to forward the
project, and Lord Collingwood, who commanded the
fleet, pointed out to the Duke of Orleans the insupera-
ble public difficulties in the way of the scheme, and
the personal impolicy of a French prince in his posi-
tion appearing in arms against France. Looking
rather to his future mother-in-law than to the reason
of the thing, the Duke departed for London to com-
plain : but he was informed that the British govern-
ment perfectly approved of Sir Hew Dalrymple's
conduct, and could only re-impress Lord Collingwood's
advice.
Not content with this intrigue, the Duke on his re-
turn engaged in another. The object was to ,]>ut him
at the head of a Catalan army, that, among other
DANTON A^D LOUIS PHILIPPE. 145
exploits, was to invade the south of France ; a project
that was no sooner detected, than Napoleon, by in-
vading Catalonia, gave the Catalan force enough to do
at home. Still unconvinced, the Duke of Orleans, in
the summer of 1810, again fished in Spanish waters.
The regency invited him to a command ; which, not-
withstanding the opinion of Wellington, he persisted
in accepting ; but the plan was baffled by the veto of
Cortes. When the partisans of the Duke of Orleans,
after the success of the "three days," announced that
he was the only Bourbon who had never borne arms
against France, Louis Philippe may have remembered
the prudence of the British commander's advice.
According to a tolerably well authenticated anecdote,
Danton, in the early part of the first Revolution, also
advised Louis Philippe to act discreetly. While he
was with the army under Dumouriez, he was in the
habit of expressing his views with great freedom on
public measures. Danton sent for him and urged him
to be more prudent. "In the future," said the great
leader of the Revolution, "be silent. Return to the
army ; do your duty ; but do not unnecessarily expose
your life. You have many years before you. France
is not fitted for a republic ; it has the habits, the wants,
and the weaknesses of a monarchy. After one storm
it will be brought back to that by its vices or by its
necessities. You will be King! Adieu, young man.
Remember the prediction of Danton 1 "
With the unsuccessful attempt to obtain a command
i:i the Spanish army, the wanderings of him who haa
been called the modern Ulysses may be said to have ter-
minated. In Sicily tranquillity first dawned upon hii
10
THE KEION OF LOUIS PHELLJPPB.
agitated career. It was a season of mild repose a
blush of light between the storms. His mother, hia
sister, and his wife were at his side ; children were
born unto him ; public affairs ceased to harass or de-
press him ; he sought and found happiness at the fam-
ily hearth, where Heaven provides it for the meanest.
In the midst of the profound calm there fell a thun-
derbolt. Napoleon was beaten; Louis XVIII. was
restored to the throne of France. Louis Philippe
heard the news, and started for Paris that very moment.
Marvelous vicissitudes of life ! The man who had
been refused his bed of straw at a monastery, reached
the French metropolis, and, scarcely taking time for
refreshment, hurried to the Palais Royal to set foot
again in his magnificent home. His heart beating
high, his soul pierced with a hundred conflicting
sensations that expressed themselves in visible tears, the
restored heir paced the well-known galleries and vis-
ited the well-remembered gardens. The doors of the
grand staircase chanced to be opened. The visitor in-
voluntarily entered, but was stopped by a porter still
wearing the imperial livery, who said that strangers
were not allowed in the private apartments. Louis
Philippe, overcome with emotion, fell upon his knees,
and in his bewilderment kissed the lowest step of the
staircase. He was recognized, and admitted.
Louis XYIH. and Charles X. may be said to have
represented the dry sticks of Bourbonism ; the sap of
the race was gone, the rich blood of Louis Quatorztj
had ceased to circulate. Whatever was chivalric :n
the family, whatever heroic, whatever superb, what-
soever could engage the admiration and secure the
LOUIS ivm. AXD LOUIS rmLippB. 147
pride of a people otherwise aggrieved, had departed
forever; whatever was bigoted, oppressive, ignorant,
ridiculous, and suicidal, obstinately remained. Louis
XYIII. was scarcely on the throne, Louis Philippe
hardly housed in the Palais Royal, before intrigues
were on foot in reference to the successor to the throne.
Intriguers on every side were busy as possible, when the
astounding announcement was made that the chained
lion at Elba had burst his bonds, and was advancing,
with strides such as that lion alone could take, rapidly
on Paris. It was enough. Intrigues were postponed
for the present. Louis XYIII., as quick as lightning,
was beyond the frontier. Louis Philippe, accompanied
by his family, was again at Twickenham.
Waterloo again restored the crown to the Bourbons,
but they were not wise enough to retain it. The first
proposition made by the House of Peers on behalf of
the restored crown, was that all who had taken any
part whatever in the successive revolutions of France
should be visited with extreme punishment Louis
Philippe was in the chamber of Peers when the im-
politic measure was proposed. He protested against
it loudly and indignantly, and at his instigation the
obnoxious motion was rejected without a division.
Louis XVLTL, considerably disgusted, forbade the
princes of the blood to appear in the chamber of the
Peers unless summoned by special authority. The
Duke of Orleans retired into comparative seclusion,
and revenged himself upon the court by entering his
eldest son as a student in one of the public colleges aa
a simple citizen. "I perceive," says Louis XYHL in
his own memoirs, and with touching imbecility, "that
J4& THE BEION OF LOUIS PUUJ.IPPE.
although Louis Philippe does not stir, he advances,
How must I manage to prevent a man from walking
who appears as if he did not take a step? It is a
problem which remains for me to solve, and I should
be glad not to leave it for solution to my successors."
Poor old gentleman ! The problem was too difficult
both for himself and the brother who succeeded him.
Retiring to IsTeuilly, he spen* his time in the educa-
tion of his children, the estivation and improvement
of his vast estates, and, doubtless, in the careful
nurture of a public interest. Knowing the unpopu-
larity of Louis XYIII. and Iiis successor, he adroitly
availed himself of the preference of public opinion,
which turned instinctively toward him. He was re-
served in his attitude, a courtier of the king, and,
above all, expressed himself only in half sentences,
but in his omissions allowing a glimpse to be obtained
of a secret disdain for the court, and favorable remi-
niscences for all that breathed of the Revolution. He
associated himself even, by a skillful flattery, with the
regrets and glories of the army, choosing his mil;
tary household among the young generals of Napoleon.
His intimate society was among the writers and
orators of liberty. He was irreproachable in appear
ance toward the court, and gracious and attractive
toward the rising opposition. This opposition seemed
to spring up in the very palace of Orleans, where the
Revolution had its birth. At last came the Revolu-
tion of tlie Barricades (in 1830) and the once homeless
and needy wanderer was elevated to the throne of
France.
The new monarchy established in France was ex
LOUIS PHILIPPE ON IHfl THBONI. l4i
posed to the most imminent dangers from the reputui
cans on the one hand and the partizans of the exilea
family on the other. The republican party was in-
finitely the most formidable, because, in the capital, at
least, there was a much greater mass to whom its opin-
ions and incentives were likely to be agreeable. There
was a spirit of extraordinary earnestness in its mem-
bers ; several attempts were made to assassinate the
king ; but all were unsuccessful.
But there were many elements of discord to be over-
come before the throne could enjoy tranquillity. The
republican party deemed itself betrayed by the elec-
tion of a king, and several who had consented to that
arrangement were satisfied with the limited extension
of popular privileges gained by the Revolution. A
great number of idle, discontented young men were
anxious to involve Europe in a war of opinion, and
they denounced the king as a traitor to the principles
which had placed him on the throne, because he re-
fused to grant their insane wishes. The total sepa-
ration of the church from the state alienated the
French clergy ; while the royalists, recovered from
their first terror, began to entertain hopes of a restora-
tion. Thus surrounded by difficulties and dangers,
Louis Philippe was far from finding his throne a bed
of roses ; but he evinced firmness and talent adequate
to the occasion, and he was zealously supported by the
middle classes, who looked upon him as their guarantee
for constitutional freedom and assured tranquillity.
An insurrection of the Carlists, as the partisans of
the exiled family were called, in the south of France,
injured the cause it was designed to serve. It WOT
150 THE RKTGN OF LOU18 PH1LLIPPK.
easily suppressed, but the government learned that the
Duchess de Berri, (whose son, the Duke of Bourdeaux,
was grandson of Charles X.,) had made arrangement!
for landingan La Vendee, and heading the royalists in
the province. Such preparations were made, that
when the Duchess landed, she found her partisans
disheartened, and their movements so closely watched,
that it was scarcely possible for them to assemble any
force. Still she resolved to persevere ; but the enter-
prise degenerated into a series of isolated and insig-
nificant attacks, made by small bodies in a strong
country, and the proceedings of the royalists, con-
sequently, resembled those of the brigands. The
Duchess continued five months in the country, though
actively pursued by the military and police ; she was
at length betrayed by one of her associates, and made
prisoner. The government of Louis Philippe treated
the royal captive with great clemency. She had not
been long in prison when it was discovered that she
was about to become a mother, having been privately
married some time before her arrest. This unfortunate
circumstance threw such an air of ridicule over the
entire enterprise, that the royalists abandoned all fur-
ther efforts against the government
The Revolution of July, 1830, had driven one dy-
nasty from the throne of France, and seated another
in its place. It had thus prevented a return to the
despotic government of the seventeenth century, and
preserved the little share of liberty which the Bourbons,
on their restoration in 1814, had granted with a reluc-
tant and sparing hand, to the French nation. Their
overthrow was consequent upon their endeavors t
LOUIS PHILIPPE AGAINST WAB. 151
deprive the people of the freedom which was then
unwillingly yielded to them.
The government of Louis Philippe gradually ac-
quired, by its continued success in keeping down do-
mestic factions, and maintaining the friendly relations
of France with foreign powers, a high reputation for
wisdom and firmness. The peace of Eorope was sup-
posed to be in the French king's hands ; and men con-
gratulated themselves that so vast and important a
trust should be grasped by a monarch so able and so
averse to war. The resources of France by the mere
force of its internal and external tranquillity rapidly
developed themselves, and the enterprise of the French
people appeared to be at length directed to other and
higher objects than triumphs, ruinous alike to the
victor and vanquished, in the fields of strife. What-
ever may have been the errors of the reign of Louis
Philippe, and they were many, his efforts, whether from
policy or from principle, to maintain the peace of Eu-
rope, entitle him to lasting admiration. His reply to
a deputation from Belgium, inviting the Duke of Ne-
mours, his second son, to ascend the Belgian throne,
was worthy of his reputation. "The thirst of conquest,
(said he,) or the honor of seeing a diadem placed on
the brow of my son, shall not induce me to expose my
country to a repetition of those calamities which war
entails ; nor could any advantages France might reap
from my acceptance of the honor you propose, compen-
sate for those evils. The examples of Louis XIY. and of
Napoleon are sufficient to save me from the fatal temp-
tation of erecting thrones for my sons ; and I prefer the
maintenance of peace to all the brilliancy of victories,
152 THE KEION OF LOUIS PHELL1PPE.
unless, indeed, in a war in which the defense of hoi
standard would call forth the sons of France."
These sentiments were still more emphatically ad
vanced by Louis Philippe, in reply to an address for-
warded to him by the English and American societies
for the preservation of Peace. "I am happy, (said he,)
'** receive these addresses, and feel particularly grati-
ned to find that our American friends should do justice
> the pains I have taken to maintain the general peace
of Europe. There is no advantage in making war,
even when a nation has attained the object for which
it has fought, because, ultimately, the losses are always
greater than the gains. I have ever professed that
principle. When I was in America, forty years ago, I
was often asked to propose toasts at public dinners,
and I almost invariably expressed the wish that uni-
versal and permanent peace should exist among all
nations. I was then exiled from my country, and
my anxious desire was that it should enjoy peace and
happiness. This is what caused me to adopt that salu-
tary precept. I could not then foresee that I should
be called upon one day to exert my influence and act
myself in favor of that great cause. May the Almighty
accord me the maintenance of peace. War appears to
me a malediction ; and war in Europe, between civil-
ized nations, I regard as an absurdity ; if the smaller
states desire it we should prevent them ; and as peace
between great powers becomes daily more consolidated,
I hope, if I live a few years longer, that a general war
in Europe will have become impossible."
However much we may doubt the full sincerity of
Louis Philippe, in these observations, there can be DO
THE QUKKlf. 163
doubt the views were admirable ; and they presented
a curious reverse to the old spectacle of kings playing
at the game of war in spite of their subjects for while
in France there were many restless and discontented
persons infatuated with a desire for war, the king him-
self was reluctant. That Louis Philippe thought
himself better able to accomplish his aim the per-
petuation of his dynasty and the aggrandizement of
his family through the tortuous and noisome ways
of diplomacy, than by warfare, is quite certain, and i*
is equally certain that he relied much upon his reputa-
tion, as a friend of peace, for the stability of his throne.
Louis Philippe, in the character of a husband and
father, merited the highest admiration ; and he was
particularly fortunate in his family relations. By his
side, looking like the guardian angel of his family,
was his wife, a modest, amiable, clever woman, who
contributed not a little to the popularity of his family.
The queen, a daughter of a king, married the Duke of
Orleans, when he was a fugitive and an exile. At that
time the house of Bourbon had seemingly no prospect
of re-ascending the throne of France. It had fallen
from too great a height to hope to rise again from such
a depth. The marriage of the Duke of Orleans and
his wife was founded wholly upon mutual esteem and
affection, The Duchess of Orleans loved her husband,
at first because he was unhappy, because he was poor,
a wanderer and an exile, exposed even to the re-
proaches of those relations among whom' he emigrated
She loved him, next, for the fortitude with which he
supported his ill-fortune, and his patience. These
two persons were admirably qualified to be alwayi
*
154 THE KEIQN OF LOUIS PUILLIPFB.
supporting each other a little above their position, what
ever that position might be. Once upon the throne,
the Duchess of Orleans acted and thought like a queen,
She had been consulted by her husband in all the im-
portant speculations and affairs of their life she was
equally consulted in the management of political con
cerns. But she was a queen, as she had been the
mother of a family, without ostentation. In the bitter
nees of French political dissensions, no whisper of
calumny was ever heard against the queen ; and one
who could pass triumphantly through such an ordeal
had nothing more to dread from human investigation.
She was a kind and affectionate mother, a sincere be-
liever in the Christian religion, and devout in the per-
formance of its duties. Her charity was only bounded
by her means to relieve the distressed.
The king's sister, the Princess Adelaide, formed a
part of the royal family, and was said to be one of the
most devoted sisters a brother ever possessed. In the
qualities of head and heart, all who knew her awarded
to her the meed of praise. Religious, charitable, ex-
emplary, she was one of those who adorn high places
by higher virtues. Madame Adelaide was four yearg
younger than her brother, and had resided with him
from the time of his return to Europe, after his exile
in America. From that period she was his friend and
adviser in all matters of delicacy and difficulty. S,he
was thought to possess a more masculine mind than
Louis Philippe himself. It is a well-known fact that
Louis XVIII. hated and rather despised the Duke of
Orleans, but ho somewhat feared Madame Adelaide.
The astute monarch was aware of the courage, sagacity,
MADAMTC ADELAIDE. 165
constancy and steadiness of this remarkable woman.
Separated from her counsels, he thought the Duke of
Orleans was not dangerous ; but under her influence
and guidance, he felt that he had to deal with a name
and pretensions which she could render powerful.
During the last years of the reign of Charles X., no
one in France more clearly saw the doom of the elder
branch of the Bourbons than Madame Adelaide.
When, at length, the Revolution was successful, and
the triumph of the "three days" certain and assured,
she it was who induced her brother to accept the
crown, and while she lived she was his principal ad-
viser, and most trusted counselor. Nor was this won-
derful. From the period when they were first driven
from France, he had perpetually corresponded or been
in conference with her, and had always found her
judgment sure, and her intelligence and tact unsur-
passable in difficult conjunctures. Together they left
France, agitated and revolutionized, their father one
of the first victims ; together they closed, in Spain, the
eyes of a dying mother; together they mourned, in
London and Malta, over the couches of their departed
brothers, Mosntpensier aud Beaujolais ; together they
shared, a second time, exile from France; together
they returned thither in 1817. And was it, therefore,
extraordinary, that a prince of a cold and reserved na
ture should fly to one whom he had so often found
true, trustworthy, and full of resources upder the most
difficult and trying circumstances? Though managing
her immense property for she, with Louis Philippe,
possessed between them, all the fortunes of their
father with commendable carefulness and economy.
156 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PH1LLIPPE.
yet she was by no means so parsimonious as the kihg
and remonstrated with him frequently on the small
allowance made to his children. She relieved them
from many embarrassments, and on one occasion paid
debts to the amount of $2,000,000 for one of them.
She died in 1847.
Louis Philippe had eight children, six of whom
survived him. They were Ferdinand, Duke of
Orleans, born September 3, 1810; Louisa Marie,
born April 3, 1812 ; Marie Christine, born April 12,
1813 ; Louis, Duke of Nemours, born October 25,
1814 ; Marie Clementina, born June 3, 1817 ; Francis,
Prince of Joinville, born August 14, 1818; Henrj,
Duke of Aumale, born January 16. 1822 ; and Antoine,
Duke of Montpensier, born July 31, 1824.
The Duke of Orleans who was destined, (according
to appearances, which human pride seldom condescends
to imagine may be fallacious,) to wear, one day, the
most brilliant crown in the world was remarkably
handsome and prepossessing in his appearance. Lik<
all the other children of Louis Philippe, he was tho*
oughly educated, and it was to the admirable care ol
his father that the heir to the throne, as well as his
brothers and sisters, formed not only the most intelli-
gent but really the most popular royal family in
Europe. While the grasping and selfish policy of
Louis Philippe gained him many enemies, all but two
or three of his .family were favored with the affections
of the French people.
In 1836, the Duke of Orleans, accompanied by his
brother, the Duke of Nemours, visited Eastern Europe,
in the hope of obtaining a wife from the royal fauiiliei
A PBINOE IN 8EAKOH OF A WIFE. 157
of Russia or Austria. Louis Philippe was eager to
secure matrimonial alliances for his child i en from
among the established monarchies of Europe. Thiers,
the prime minister, was required to learn the views of
those courts, without incurring the humiliation of a di-
rect refusal. Had he possessed the moral courage, the
elevated soul, which ought particularly to character-
ize those who fill so important an office as the one he
held, he would have given the royal family the only
counsel which ought to have been acted upon he would
have represented to it that to seek alliances with those
inimical to the Revolution which elevated it to power,
was a gratuitous degradation of itself that a French-
woman, the daughter of some considerable citizen,
woul'l be a better guarantee of the nation's supper 4
than a princess of foreign and hostile blood that Na
poleon, after an alliance with the royal family of Aus-
tria, in the eyes of the world morally abdicated his
throne, i'ur it dispelled the belief that he felt himself
superior to the greatest kings, needing to have nothing
to do with, nothing in common with, and nothing to
borrow from the old European monarchies. From
Russia, Louis Philippe was given to understand he
had nothing to expect for his son. His thoughts were
then directed to an archduchess of Austria, and the
Duke of Orleans was sent to Vienna. But the Aus-
trian government had not forgotten Maria Antoinette,
and Maria Louisa. They were not forgetful of the
various attempts that had been made to assassinate
Louis Philippe. They thought it quite out of the ques-
tion for an Au.-trian princess to form an alliance that
might lead her to the guillotine, or to be subject to ride
158 THE REIGN OF LOUTS PHILLIPPB.
in a carriage, liable, at almost any moment, to be
pierced with bullets. The Duke of Orleans returned
to Paris, a bachelor. A less haughty alliance was then
contemplated. May 30, 1839, he married Helena, a
princess of one of the petty German monarchies. The
marriage was not a brilliant one; it had neitler the
prestige of a high monarchical alliance, nor the heroic
significance of a national and popular choice ; but
after the insulting refusals of the sovereign families
the Duke of Orleans, perhaps, thought himself lucky
in not being refused by an obscure and indigent Ger-
man princess. Two sons were born to him the first
on the 24th of August, 1838, created Count of Paris ;
the second, born in 1840, was called the Duke of Char-
feres. Unfortunately the Duke of Orleans lost his life
on the 13th of July, 1842. This much lamented prince
was returning from Neuilly, when the horses of his
carriage took fright, and he, in attempting to jump out,
was thrown upon his head and killed. Pie was the
most popular of Louis Philippe's sons. The Duke of
Nemours, the second son of the king the proposed
regent of France, should Louis Philippe die before the
Count of Paris attained his majority was, perhaps,
the least popular of all the royal family. He married a
daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, a cousin of
Prince Albert the consort of the Queea of England.
The Prince of Joinville married a princes* of Brazil ;
the Duke of Aumale, a daughter of the Sic.b'an Prince
of Salerno ; Montpensier, the youngest soi, married
Louisa, the sister of Isabella, Queen of S, i.in. All
these marriages were fruitful in progeny, so t) \t should
Franco ever desire the restoration of the Ori >aiw
THB PRINCESS MARIK. 159
family, there will be no lack of heirs to avail themselvei
of the invitation.
The marriage of the Duke of Montpensier created a
tremendous excitement throughout Europe. Isabella,
the Queen of Spain, it was feared, would die childless,
and in that case leave the throne to Montpensier's wife ;
so it was thought to be more than possible that the
crowns of France and Spain, as in the case of Castile
and Arragon, would eventually descend upon one
brow. Yet all these princely alliances, Louis Philippe
afterward found, were less influential in fixing his
family upon the throne of France, than would have
been the marriage of his sons with the daughters of
French citizens.
Louisa Marie, the eldest daughter of Louis Philippe,
was married to Leopold, King of the Belgians. His
first wife was the Princess Charlotte, heir apparent
to the throne of England, whose early death cast a
gloom over the English nation. Marie Christine, the
second daughter of Louis Philippe, married Duke
Alexander of Wurtemburg. She died of consumption
soon after the birth of a son, hetonly child, who lived
thereafter in the family of Louis Philippe. She had
much love for the fine arts, and excelled in sculpture.
She fitted up a studio in the palace of the Tuileries, in
which she spent a great portion of her time with a
sculptor's chisel in her hands. Among her statues waa
one of Joan of Arc, on horseback. The horse is a very
fine Norman one, calmly and vigorously placed ; the
young warrior, armed cap-a-pie, holds in her hand that
terrible sword which she has just used for the first
time. The expression of her lace is remarkable, and
160 THE REIQN OP LOtHB PHTLLtPWB.
could only have been conceived by a mind filled with
the tendercst and noblest feelings. Joan of Arc, lean-
ing from her saddle, is represented as having just
slain an Englishman, whose blood is flowing at her
feet. The sternness of the warrior has disappeared,
and the innocent young shepherdess is seen under
her cuirass. The sword nearly falls from her trembling
hand ; astonishment, mingled with pity and alarm, is
seen on her lovely countenance. It is not she who has
kille;! the man : it is her sword, swayed by some power
she could not control or resist. Another statue chiseled
by the Princess Marie, was placed, after her death, ai
the tomb of her brother, the Duke of Orleans. In tie
pursuit of her favorite art, the princess did not spaj
her self-love, and she would take pleasure in relating
that, more than once, she had sent anonymous worlis
to the public exhibitions, and that the public had pa*-
sed coldly before these first attempts, and not only th<5
public, who seldom flatter, but also the courtiers, who
always flatter. She would tell also of the just severity
of the criticisms upon her, for unlike the greater part of
her companions, who incessantly attack criticism, the
Princess Marie paid deference to it, saying that trnth
was not so painful to hear as might be supposed. And
with how much enjoyment would she repeat, that at
one exhibition she had sent an anonymous painting,
much valued by her, and when she passed before
the despised work, and stopped complacently to look
at it, a flatterer, who accompanied her, said, " Ah,
princess, you who understand such matters, how can
you stop before such baboons?"
Such was the family of Louis Philippe. His peculiar
GUIZOT. 161
province seemed to be, to bring up, instruct, and en
rich his children. His sons were all educated at col
lege, among other young men of their age. They
pursued the same studies, contended for the same
prizes, and of these prizes they had their share, but
not without great difficulty and hard study. His chil-
dren were the objects of Louis Philippe's enjoyment
and activity. His errors chiefly arose from pursuing
their aggrandizement more zealously than he did the
welfare of the French people.
The most distinguished man connected with the
government of Louis Philippe, was Francis Peter Wil-
liam Guizot. He was born of Protestant parents, in
1789. His father was a lawyer of some eminence, who,
on account of his principles during the Revolution, was
compelled to flee from the country. He was found in
a remote province, by an agent of the police, who,
knowing and respecting his character, offered to allow
him. to escape, being undesirous to contribute in any
wise to the death of so good a man. The worthy advo-
cate, instinctively apprehending that in thus saving hia
own life he would infallibly endanger the life of his
generous and humble friend, did not an instant hesi-
tate to relinquish the last hope left to him. He was
apprehended and beheaded. Madame Guizot, the
nother of the future distinguished minister of France
was thus left a widow, with two sons, of whom the eld-
est, the remarkable subject of this brief sketch, was
entering, at the period of the death of his father, into
his seventh year. From the death of her husband and
their parent, commenced, for this admirable woman,
the austere practice of those painful duties whicfc
11
162 THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHTLLIPPE.
devolved upon her. Notwithstanding the interest with
which the sad fate of her husband invested her in their
native town, she tore herself away from friends and
relatives, and proceeded to Geneva, where she felt she
could give her children a more solid and serious educa-
tion than the distracted condition of France permitted
at home.
In 1805, young Guizot went to Paris, and began the
study of the law. Here the gravity and severity of his
character, with poverty, and want of friends, kept
him long in obscurity. But he finally procured a pre-
ceptorship in a family of great respectability, where he
was treated according to his singular merits, and
brought into connection with influential society. In
this situation he became acquainted with Mademoiselle
Pauline de Meulan, a lady of excellent attainments
and character, and of a distinguished family, but im-
poverished by the Revolution. She at that time con-
ducted a periodical with great success; but being seized
with a serious illness, she feared she should be obliged
to suspend, if not to discontinue altogether, her labors,
for lack of the necessary assistance. While these sad
thoughts were revolving in her mind, she received, one
morning, in an unknown hand, a letter, telling her to
keep her mind at rest, for that if the zeal and industry
of another could suffice, she might rely upon the reg-
ular aid of a substitute. The offer of the unknown
contributor, who was none other than Guizot, was ac-
cepted ; and it was not till she had completely recov-
ered that Mademoiselle de Meulan was aware of the
name of her benefactor. This good-natured act was
not without its uses to Guizot. His humane and liberal
MARRIAGE OK GUI/OT. 163
conduct procured him friends and admirers; and when,
in the following year, (1809) he published a " Diction-
ary of Synonyms," the literary world, propitiated by
his kindness to a Buffering authoress, were civilly dis
posed toward him. The work on synonyms was rap-
idly followed by a volume of "Lives of the French
Poets." Guizot had now embraced literature rather
than law for a profession. He published a French
translation of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire, enriched with valuable and erudite notes, indi-
cating depth of scholarship and historical research.
The friendship, founded on his kindness to Pauline de
Meulan, ripened into love, and five years after, (1812)
they were married. Pauline was several years his
senior. She was a superior woman, of a grave and
reflective character, who struggled to make all who
came into contact with her purer and more perfect.
As was to be expected, she acquired a great ascend-
ancy over the steady and sensible young man who had
chosen her for a wife. The demure and hard-working
student had many angularities to round off many
little defects of manner and gesture to modify. Mad-
ame Guizot became his monitress ; and thus early
habituated to prudence and self-control, these virtues
became a part of his nature. Soon after his marriage
he was appointed to the professorship of history in the
Paris University. In 1814, on the restoration of the
Bourbons, he was appointed to a government office,
but Bonaparte's return from Elba sent him back to his
professorship. From this period until the year 1820
his life was mostly literary, though he was occasionally
in the employ of the government. Between 1820 ana
1G4 THE REIGN OF LOUISE PHILLIPE.
1822, lie published several political pamphlets, which,
had great influence on public opinion. In these pro-
ducts of a powerful and reflective mind, there was
neither flattery of the people, nor abuse of authorit v.
They appeared to be the views of a calm, conscientious
man, taking his stand between anarchy and despotism.
Guizot had, by these political treatises, become a sort
of power in politics. Still, he did not abandon his se-
rious historical studies, and he published twenty-
seven volumes of memoirs relating English history.
These were followed b} r twenty-eight volumes relat-
ing to the history of France. He also translated
several of the tragedies of Shakspeare into French.
In 1827, Guizot lost his first wife, but afterward mar-
ried, and again became a widower.
During the ministry of Polignac, Guizot was elected
to the Chamber of Deputies, and wrote the famous pro-
test of the Chambers against the despotic ordinances,
of Charles X. Upon the accession of Louis Philippe,
he was chosen as a member of the cabinet, and, except
when employed as Minister*to England, he may be
said to have been a leading member of every admin-
istration until the overthrow of that monarch. His
only rival in the public estimation was Thiers. An
able but unscrupulous and dishonest diplomatist, he
bent the whole energy of his genius to the promotion
of the projects of Louis Philippe for the aggrandize-
ment of his family. The chief, and almost only merit,
that can bo accorded to the career of Guizot, while
minister, was his desire to preserve the peace of Eu-
rope. His tricky and dishonest course, while in of-
fice, has tended greatly to desroy the high position
to which his ability, as a historian would entitle him.
P1CMONAL APPEARANCE OF OTJIZOT. 165
Tbe personal appearance and manner of Guixot are
thus graphically described by an English author:
"}>elow the middle stature, somewhat square-built, and
of an aspect always grave, if not severe, with a proud
and piercing eye, Guizot strikes you at first sight as a
man of thoughtful and reflective habits, and of an
energy subdued rather than extinguished by severe
study. Approach him nearer, and you will perceive
that he is more spare in flesh, more somber in appear-
ance, more livid in look, than you had supposed at a
distance. II is features, when excited, assume a disa-
greeable aspect his lips become contracted, his eyes
appear deeper sunk in their cavernous orbits, and his
whole appearance gives token of a person of a restless
and melancholy, as well as of a meditative disposition.
There is no gayety in his look or manner. He does not
laugh nor joke with his next neighbor on the bencn of
ministers, and appears altogether absorbed in public
affairs or in his own reflections. He exhibits, on his
entrance to the Chamber, the impassibility of a profes-
sor or college tutor. He crosses his arms, inclines his
head on his breast, and attentively listens to the dis-
cussion. But if the orator at the tribune attacks the
man or his system, Guizot becomes restless and excited,
rises from his seat, interrupts the speaker, strikes his
desk with his wooden paper-knife, and, giving a loud
contradiction to the member in possession of the
house, asks to be heard in reply.
" At the tribune, notwithstanding his diminutive stat-
ure, his appearance is imposing, for he has an expres-
sive countenance there is much latent fire in his
ieep-eet eye, and notwithstanding his dictatorial and
166
pedautical air, there is a certain dignity in his
His voice is full and sonorous, but it is neither very
varied in tone nor very flexible. It is dry, sententious,
clear, dogmatical, luminous, lacking the suppleness and
vivacity of Thiers, and genial flow, pathos, richness,
and grace. But its tone, it must be admitted, is geu
erally philosophical and elevated, and he exhibits
great power of expression, and often much adroitness
in hitting the humor of the Chamber. No man seizes
on a leading popular idea with greater address, or
more artfully and elaborately produces it suited to the
taste of a majority. Tbough he seldom breaks out into
those happy buists which enthrall and captivate the
auditor and hurry him along against his will, yet he is
almost always copious and fertile, and shows his supe-
riorjty to the mass, as a scholar and a man of general
information. Guizot is always self-reliant, and nearly
always cool and self-possessed. The most frivolous
an 1 oft-repeated interruptions cannot turn him from
the exposition and development of a favorite idea."
But there was a statesman in France even more in-
fluential, and held in higher estimation by the French,
than Guizot. This was Louis Adolphe Thiers. lie
was born at Marseilles, \ pril 20, 1797. His father
11 as a locksmith and small iron-dealer, and his mother
a daughter of a bankrupt merchant, of a poor but
proud family. By the influence of some relations,
Adolphe was admitted ;i free scholar in the Imperial
Lyceum of Marseilles, where he acquitted himself
creditably until 1815, when he removed to Aix, to
enter upon the study of law. Ih-ro he formed a lasting
friendship with Magnet Hie historian, who was hip
THIIRB. 167
fellow-student In this situatiot., Thiers added history,
philosophy, and belles-lettres, to his law studies, and
imbibed radical notions. Even then he showed traces
of the demagogue declaimed against the restoration,
and made himself suspected by the police and hated
by the faculty of the college. Rather than confer the
prize of eloquence upon him, his instructors adjourned
the trial a year, when, producing the same piece, he
was outdone, much to their satisfaction, by an anony-
mous oration sent from Paris ; but what was their
subsequent mortification to find that this also was a
production of their mischievous little Jacobin, who had
taken this pleasant method of entrapping them. As a
lawyer in Aix, Thiers could get no employment, and
went with Mignet to Paris. They took lodgings in the
garret of a miserable house in one of the meanest
streets of the capital. A common chest of drawers, of
the cheapest wood, a bed to match, two rush-bottom
chairs, a little rickety nut-wood table, incapable of
standing steadily on its legs, and a white calico cur-
tain, formed the inventory of the furniture which ac-
commodated the future prime minister of the greatest
country in Europe, and the future historian of the
Revolution. After some time spent in poverty and
restlessness, Thiers obtained a situation among the
editors of an influential journal. His bold and vigor-
ous articles soon excited general attention ; and the
young politician, in despite of poverty, found himself
drawn into the best circles of Paris. He was, how-
ever, exceedingly diligent, and made the utmost im-
provement of the opportunities placed at his disposal
Through the assistance of a generous friend, he became
168 THE KEIGN OF LOUIS PHILLJPPE.
proprietor of one-half of the journal he conducted. il
i-ose at five in the morning, and from that time until
noon, applied himself to his editorial duties, and made
his paper so popular that its receipts were increased
tive fold. After having thus devoted those hours to
labor which most Parisians were wont to consume in
sleep and idleness, he went into society, where lit
s 'light, not only to extend his connections, but to col-
lect information, which he well knew how to turn to
account.
If Thiers were an ordinary man he would, doubtless,
have been abundantly satisfied by his emineni success
as a newspaper writer. But he sought for more perma-
nent fame, and in 1823, published the first volume of
a History of the French Revolution. Sodoubtful were
the booksellers of his ability as a historian, notwith-
standing his success as a journalist, that the work was
published under the name of Felix !>odi v , a writer
then popular in France. It created a gre t sons- tion.
and soon acquired a party value altogether indepen-
dent of its literary merit. The clearness, vigor, and
beauty of the young author's style the art and won-
derful tact with which he dramatized circumstances
added an inexpressible charm to his development of
the revolutionary movement. Each volume appeared
with increasing popularity. It was followed, after an
interval of some years, by his brilliant, though not
always reliable, History of the Consulate and Empire
Alter the Revolution of 1830, Thiers was elected to
the Chamber of Deputies, where he soon distinguished
himself. His most remarkable parliamentary effort,
was one in regard to the finances. He was chosen to
THIEB8 IN THE CilAJVLBEK UK UKl'lITIES. It59
write the report from the committee on that subject ;
but the debate in the Chamber having I, ecu suddenly
and unexpectedly brought to a close one evening, the
report was in order for the next morning. To write a
report so voluminous in a single night, was a mechani-
cal impossibility, to say nothing of the mental part of
the process. What was to be done? Such reports aie
always prepared in writing and read to the Chamber,
for this obvious reason, that although necessarily the
composition of an individual member of the committee,
they are in fact supposed to proceed from, and do really
possess the sanction of all the members of the commit-
tee, as well as of that individual member who is more
especially charged with their composition. liners.
however, pressed by the exigency of the occasion, went
down to the Chamber, and apologizing for bc.ing com-
pelled to depart from the usage of the house, by the
unexpectedly early period at which the report was
called for, in giving an unwritten report, he proceeded
at once to the subject, aided only by a few numerical
memorandas, and delivered a speech of four hours'
duration, in which he discussed and exhausted every
topic bearing on the matter of the finances. He
plunged, with ready and voluble fluency, into financial,
political, and administrative details, intermingled with
bursts of picturesque oratory, with which he astonished
and confounded the Chamber. History, politics, public
economy, questions of national security and progress,
were passed in succession before his wondering hearers,
like scenes exhibited in a magic lantern. As usual, no
topic was omitted every question was marshaled in
its proper place and order, but the house, nevertheies*,
- i <J THE REIGJS OF LOUIS PHIlLirPE.
exhibited no signs of fatigue; they listened with nna
uted interest to the end. On several occasions in
pauses of his speech, after he had continued speaking
for nearly three hours, they invited him to rest, not from
fatigue on their part, but from apprehension of his ph ys-
ical powers being exhausted. He proceeded, however,
to the close without suspension.
In 1832, Thiers was appointed a member of the cabi
net, and signalized his advent to power by the arrest
of the Duchess de Berri and the exposure of her frailty,
which obliterated any sentiment of chivalrous compas-
sion which the struggle of a brave mother, for what
she believed to be the rights of her son, might naturally
have produced. From that period he took a promi
nent position in the administration of affairs until the
overthrow of his royal master.
In physical appearance, Adolphe Thiers is extremely
unprepossessing. He has neither figure, nor shape, nor
mien, to win favor. His voice is thin, harsh, and
reedy his aspect sinister, deceitful and tricky a
sardonic smile plays about his insincere and mocking
mouth, and at first view all spectators are disposed to
distrust so ill-favored a little dwarf. The first time he
gets up to speak or rather squeak, there is a universal
desire to put him down with a universal laugh. But let
the little pigmy be fairly heard, and he greets his audi-
tors with such pleasant, light, lively, voluble talk, inter-
spersed with historical remarks, personal anecdotes,
ingenious reflections, all conveyed in such clear, concise
and incomparable language, that they forget his ugli-
ness, his impudence and insincerity. They listen, and
as Uousseau said, in one of his most elounent letterjj.
THE WAR IN ALOIKR8. 171
in "listening they are undone." He fixes his huge
spectacles, (which entirely hide his eyes,) upon hie
audience, and addresses them in a ."how d'ye do" vein
of eloquence, and soon captivates their attention just
a& if he was addressing each one personally. There is
no warmth, no apostrophe, no rhetoric, no figure of
speech, no pathos, but a wonderful tumbling forth of
ideas rushing out like children from a country school
house but without any effort, any aim at originality
any desire to excite surprise. It is cold, sensible, irre-
sistible. Those who know him well, do not suppose he
can be in earnest about any matter which does not in-
timately concern his own interests. The truth is thai
in his innermost heart he laughs at all theories, other
than the one which can raise Adolphe Thiers to power,
and maintain him there. He is more restless and rash
than Guizot, but has the same perseverance and im-
perturbable determination to occupy the foremost place
of power the same love of eminence, not for its
wealth, its luxury, or the other consequences of eini-
ence, but f:r its own sake; for its activity, for its
espoiioibility, and because it satisfies the cravings ci'
ti spirit purely and naturally ambitious of managiiiir
gieat events.
Notwithstanding the pacific tendency of Louis Phil-
ippe's reign, the war in Algiers, begun by Charles X..
was continued by him. Having taken possession ; f
Algiers, it was thought dishonorable for the French t<i
abandon it ; while to occupy it, was to be in contimral
warfare with the natives. Another reason, probably,
had great weight in the decision of Louis Philippe's
".abinet, in regard to the continuation of the wa~. It
1 i '2 THE RKIGN OF LOUIS PHILLIPPfc.
afforded congenial occupation to the most restless, and
turbulent, portion of the French, who might otherwise
have periled the peace of Europe. The occupation of the
new possession, however, was a constant source of em-
barrassment, and occasioned a continual and enormous
drain upon the treasury. The intractable natives of
Algiers, it was found, were not reducible to method ;
and European colonists could not be induced to settle
among them. At least the French, who understand
the sword better than the olive-branch, and parade
more than utility, could make nothing of their acquisi-
tion. Nominally masters of Algiers, they really only
possessed those portions occupied by their garrisons.
The neighboring Moors arid Arabs gave them constant
employment, making frequent attacks upon the French
posts, while the French sacked and burnt their villages
in retaliation. Instead of dealing with the Arabs on
o
principles of conciliation, and nursing the infant col-
ony with money, goods, markets and colonists, the
conquerors assumed a contrary policy. The most ac-
tive and powerful chief arrayed against them, was the
celebrated Abd-el-Kader, Emir of Mascara, a province
lying along the foot of the lesser Atlas mountains.
The public life of Abd-el-Kader, (who was born
in 1806,) commenced with the conquest of Algiers by
the French in 1830. Chosen Emir of the tribes ar-
rayed in opposition to French domination, he con-
trived to rapidly extend his influence still more and
more widely among the neighboring tribes, until he
became the head of a powerful confederacy of bellige-
rent Arabs. Thenceforward, for seventeen years, the
Emir kept up an almost constant warfare against +he
THB FRENCH AJSTD THE ABAJB8. 173
French. The Arabs, whose rude and savage love oi
independence is the redeeming trait of their character,
and whose religious fanaticism in the hour of defeat
arouses them to fresh exertions, were unanimous in
their determination never to yield to the French. The
latter gained victory after victory without advantage.
The Arabs were able to flourish where the French could
not exist. Their burning summers, their rugged and
pathless country, were allies that no treachery could
deprive them of. Their destitution of military sup-
plies, without which no European army can perform
the most ordinary operations, did not affect their con-
stant power of annoyance, or diminish their opportu-
nities of harassing and surrounding their opponents'
position. They regarded Abd-el-Kader who is de-
scended from one of the most ancient Arabian families,
as the gallant defender of their faith, and the heroic
chief of a holy war, in which light their contest with
the French was universally regarded. Pillaging, burn-
ing, and massacring were the order of the day on both
sides. The following example of the atrocities com
mitted by the French, is enough to justify any cruelt^
of which the Arabs may have been guilty. Among
the French officers, in the early part of 1845, was a
Colonel Pelissier, who, on one occasion, drove a large
1 inmber of Arabs, belonging to the tribe of Ouled
'iiah, into a large cavern, in the mountains to which
they were accustomed to retreat, and the entrance of
which they had strongly fortified.
After having surrounded the caverns, some fagots
were lighted and thrown by the French troops teforo
the entrance. After this demonstration, which was
174 THE BE1GN OF LOU18 PHIIXIPPE.
made to convince the Arabs that the French had the
power, if they pleased, of suffocating them in their
hiding-place, the colonel threw in letters offering to
them life and liberty if they would surrender their
arms and their horses. At first they refused, but sub-
sequently they replied that they would consent if the
French troops would withdraw. This condition was
considered inadmissible, and more burning fagots were
thrown. A great tumult now began, and it was known
afterward that it arose from & discussion as to whether
there should be a surrender or not. The party opposed
to a surrender carried their point, and a few of the
minority made their escape. Colonel Pelissier, profes-
sing a wish to spare the lives of those who remained in
the cavern, sent some Arabs to them to exhort them to
surrender. They refused, and some women, who did
not partake of the savage fanaticism of the majority,
attempted to fly, but their husbands and relations fired
upon them to prevent their escape from the martyrdom
which they had themselves resolved to suffer. Colonel
Pelissier then suspended the throwing of the burning
fagots, and sent a French officer to hold a parley with
the Ouled Eiahs, but his messenger was received with
a discharge of fire-arms, and could not perform hie
mission. This state of things continued till the next
night, when the fire was renewed and rendered intense.
During this time the cries of the unhappy wretches
who were being suffocated, were dreadful, and then
nothing was heard but the crackling of the fagots.
This silence spoke volumes. The troops entered and
found eight hundred'dead bodies. About one hundred
and fifty, who still breathed, were brought into the
AJBD-EL-KA.DEB. 175
fresh air, but a portion of them died afterward. Ac
officer under Pelissier's command, in giving the hide-
ous details of this atrocious massacre, said: "Six
hundred bodies have already been taken out of the
cave, without counting those that were heaped one
above the other, nor counting the infants at the breast,
who were almost entirely concealed by their mothers'
clothes. The colonel expressed the horror which he
t'elt at this terrible result. He is afraid, principally,
of the attacks of the journals, who will, no doubt, criti-
cise so deplorable an act. One thing certain, is, that
it has made the whole country submit. We have been
obliged to remove our camp from the neighborhood of
the caves on account of the infectious smell, and wo
have abandoned the place to the ravens and vultures,
who have been flying for some days around the grotto,
and which we can see from our encampment carrying
away huge pieces of human flesh."
Abd-el-Kader, like another Antseus, rose with fresh
vigor after each blow, and renewed the contest with
increased spirit. For a large portion of the seventeen
years that Abd-el-Kader maintained the war, the
French had an army of over 100,000 men in Algiers,
the support of which cost $200,000,000. In 1847.
Abd-el-Kader was finally, through alleged treachery
and bad faith on the part of the French, taken prisonef
and confined at Amboise, in the west of France, where
he lingered in captivity until 1852.
In person, Abd-d-Kader is very small ; his face is
long and deadly pale; his large black eyes are soft
and languishing; his mouth email and delicate; his
nose rather aquiline ; his beard thin, but jet black
176 THK KK!<;\' OF LOUTS T'HILLIPPK.
Hie dress was always distinguished by the most studied
simplicity, having no gold or embroidery on any part
of it. His whole appearance is dignified and prepos-
sessing. His disposition is humane, and many acts of
generosity are told of him. His habits are correct
according to the Arab standard, as he is guiltless of
any infidelity toward his wives, four of whom accom-
panied him to his French prison. In regard to these
wives, the French relate an amusing anecdote. Abd-
el-Kader, it is said, lately employed a competent per-
son to give his children lessons in writing. The teacher
fulfilled his task in the most exemplary manner, treat-
ing his little pupils with the utmost kindness. The
brave father, being very grateful, bethought him of
making the teacher a present as a mark of his esteem,
and, after much cogitation, concluded to give him one
of his Arabian wives! The Frenchman in vain en-
deavored to explain that he already had a wife, and
that European law only allowed him one. Abd-el-
Kader thought the writing-master wished to be cere-
monious, and persisted most perseveringly in his offer,
stating, in a courteous manner, that he would still have
three wives left enough, in the name of Allah, for a
poor prisoner. The matter ended and the writing-
master was rescued from this ludicrous dilemma, by his
wife the original, European one carrying him off
from the chief's presence, and prohibiting him from
ever entering there again.
Not alone in the early stages of his captivity, but
ever since he became their neighbor, the ladies of Am-
boise. with continuous kindness, have exhibited their
oenevolent feelings both to him and to the females of
THE CAPTTVTC KMIR. 177
his suite and their children. Delicacies from iheic
kitchens, and little useful presents have been sent to
the po<^r captives, who have received these attentions
in the spirit in which they were given. One instance
of considerateness gave particular gratification to the
Emir. A lady sent him a magnificent plant, a native
of his own valleys of the Atlas. It is related that the
Emir on receiving it burst into tears. He sent back
the expression of his gratitude in the following charac-
teristically poetical words, "Too poor to offer you in
return any thing worthy of your acceptance, not pos-
sessing even a tlower that 1 can call mine, I will pray
to Allah that for the love of his servant he will one
day bestow Paradise upon you."
The large, mournful, gazelle eyes, of Abd el-Kader,
his calm, beautiful mouth, and his rich, jet-black beard,
have gained many a heart, both male and female ; but
hi? misfortunes are too interesting, too romantic, too
piquant, to be lightly parted with, and the French will
probably keep the lion still caged as an object on which
to exercise their sensibilities. Occasionally the Emir
appears on his balcony, accompanied by the ladies of
his suite. One of them is said to be still young, and
very handsome. This is the report of a young French-
man, whose patient curiosity was rewarded on a happy
occasion, when the vailed fair one withdrew the envi-
ous screen of her beauties one day, imagining that she
was unobserved, that she might the better gaze upon
the fine river, and feel the soft breeze of an evening
in June upon her check. Occasionally some of the
children of the captives may be seen playing round
their parents, as they s'..ind motionless, looking
12
178 THE BEIQN OF LOUIS PHHLIPPK.
their higi> position. These little captives are of all
shades, from white to ebony hue, and are by no means
so silent or so still as their elders, for they clamor and
climb and twist about upon the parapets in a manner
quite startling to those who are watching them from
below.
Some time ago the bishop of Algiers, passing through
Amboise, stopped to pay a visit to the Emir ; he ex
horted him to resignation alas! what else could he
preach? and received the same answer as the illus-
trious prisoner always gives to these who seek to con-
sole him, "I gave myself up on the sole condition
that I should be conducted to Alexandria, in order tc
go to Mecca, where I desired to finish my days. The
promise was given me : I ask for nothing farther, and
I rely on the justice of Allah."
CHAPTER VI.
LOUIS NAPOLEON.
outraged and indignant France overthrew
Charles X., by the three days of July, and drove that
monarch sworn to destroy the liberties of the peo-
ple into exile, it conferred the throne, in its headlong
haste and infatuation, upon Louis Philippe. The throes
of France are always felt in Italy, which has long
groaned under the triple oppression of the Pope, Aus-
tria, and the petty princes ; and, no sooner was Charles
X. driven from Paris by a nation that loathed him,
than groups of Italian patriots were in arms, burning
to free their country from the shackles that enthralled
it. The two sons of Hortense, now grown to manhood,
had been waiting for an occasion to try their fortunes,
and, encouraged by some of the Italian insurgents,
they prepared to stake their all in the cause of Italian
freedom. They believed that a brilliant career awaited
them, not unworthy their great uncle, who had found a
grave in St. Helena. When about to join the friends
of freedom at Bologna, against Austria, Prince Louii
Napoleon and his brother, addressed the following
laconic note to their mother, who was unacquainted
with their plans :
"Mother, Your affection will comprehend our
feeling?. We have entered into engagements, which
ISO LOUIS NAPOLBOH.
we cannot fail to perform, and the name which we
hear constrains us to succor the unfortunate who call
to us."
Their afflicted mother soon after hastened to meet
them, eager to withdraw her children, whom she loved
with tenderness and cherished with pride, from that
bloody and unequal struggle. u Feel proud, madam,
(said General Arrnandi, an Italian patriot, to Queen
Hortense, when he perceived her maternal anguish,
and shared all her apprehensions,) feel proud at being
the mother of such sons. The whole of their conduct
in these melancholy circumstances, is a series of noble
and generous sentiments, worthy of their name." Hor-
tense, who was a woman of great penetration, endeav-
ored in vain to dissuade her sons from their rash and
perilous enterprise. The princes, listening only to
their warlike ardor, armed and led forward a few
determined patriots. Several brilliant actions were
fought with much bravery and address, against greatly
superior bodies of Austrians. They defeated the Papal
forces on several occasions. Great rejoicings prevailed
in the camp of the insurgents : alarm and confusion
filled the Vatican. Both were of short duration. The
crooked and double-tongued policy of the French and
Austrian rulers gained the upper hand. The two
princes were finally conquered and banished from the
soil of Italy. At Faenga the elder of the two brothers
was attacked with an internal inflammation and ex
pired, March 27, 1831, in the arms of the younger.
Louis Napoleon was also sick from fatigue, anxiety and
affliction. The Austrians were in possession of the
town where 'he was concealed, and it required al] the
HOKTEN8E AJfD ilEK SO.N LN PAKI8. 18 1
fortitude and ingenuity of the Duchess of St. Leu, (as
Queen II ortense was called after her husband abdicated
the throne of Holland,) to save the only son who now
remained to her. She caused a report to be imme-
diately circulated, that the prince had taken refuge in
(4 recce ; and although lodging in the immediate neigh-
bor! lood of the commander of the Austrian forces, she
succeeded, in the midst of the most harassing anxie-
ties, in concealing her patient from the observation of
all. By disguising herself as a domestic, and, what is
etill more difficult for a woman, concealing her grief
of heart, she conducted him, under the protection of an
English passport, and not without running great risks,
through a large part of Italy ; and, in order to take
him to a safe asylum in Switzerland, she ventured to
brave the law of proscription, which excluded her from
the soil of France. " At length, (said she,) I arrived al
the barriers of Paris, and I felt a sort of pride in show-
ing that capital, in its best points of view, to my son,
who could no longer remember it. From the windows
of my apartment I looked upon the Boulevards ; and,
in my present isolation, I felt a sort of bitter joy in
being able once more to behold that city which I was
about to leave, probably for ever, without speaking to
any one, or being at all distracted from the impression
which that view made upon my mind." Thus it was
that that young man, whose birth had been announced
by salvos of artillery throughout the vast extent of the
empire, from Hamburgh to Rome, and from the Pyr
enees to the Danube, returned to Paris, after fifteen
years of exile, a proscribed fugitive. A new impulse
was given to the indomitable ambition of Louis
182 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
Napoleon, by Ids mother's showing him from the win
dows of her apartments, the scenes where she had re
ceived homage as a queen, and enjoyed an intimacy
witli the Emperor that few others could boast. Hor
tense announced in a letter to Louis Philippe, her ar-
rival in Paris with her son. The king, notwithstand-
ing his family had received many favors from the Em-
peror through the influence of Hortense,* gave her a
peremptory order to quit the kingdom, and she pro-
ceeded, with her son to England. There the prince
employed his time in completing his education, and
visiting, with the moat scrupulous attention, every es-
tablishment of industry or science. Hortense and hei
son returned to Switzerland in August, 1831. A depn
tation of Polish noblemen, who had been sent from War-
saw, visited Louis Napoleon, and urged him to place
himself at the head of the armies of Poland. The letter
of the Polish chief contained the following passage :
"To whom could the direction of our enterprise be
confided with greater hope of success than to the
nephew of him who was the greatest captain of all ages.
Should a young Bonaparte appear upon our battle-
fields, waving the tri-colored standard for victory, what
a moral effect would be produced, the consequences of
which would be incalculable to our oppressed country.
Go, then, young bero, the hope of Poland, and confide
to the waves, that will obey at the whisper of thy great
name, the future Caesar, and what is more, the destinies
* The Emperor, through the solicitation of Hortensc, permitted Louis
1'hilippe's mother and aunt, (the Duchess of Bourbon, mother of the
Duke of Enghein,) to remain in France, and granted to the former a
pension of $30,000 a year, and to the latter $40,000. It was from this
liberality that Louis Philippe was supported while an exile. Thea*
ladies wrote many letters to Queen Horteuse, expressive of their gratitude
t'or hnr beneficent 'nfluanco with tie Emperor in their behalf
LOUIS NAl-OLEUiN A\'> THK POIJCfl 183
jf liberty, and you will gather the acknowledgments
of your brethren in arms, and the admiration of the
universe."
This offer to a young man of twenty-two, however
much it may have been influenced by the name he
bore, certainly would not have been made unless the
ability displayed by him in the Italian insurrection had
entitled him to the confidence of the Polish generals.
But the misfortunes of the Italian movement had
rendered Louis Napoleon somewhat more distrustful
of success, than he had been the previous year, a,nd
lie declined to accept the proposal. This refusal was
in accordance with the earnest entreaties of Qiiceu
Hortense, who, however frivolous she may have been
in her youth, while intoxicated with the splendors and
gayeties of a court, showed herself, throughout her
exile, to be a prudent, sensible, affectionate, and noble-
hearted mother. Louis Napoleon, restless and rash,
was hardly contented with his inactivity, and even
xmtemplated the recall of his answer to the Polish
leputation, but the calamities that rapidly overspread
?hat unhappy country, and its gallant patriots, put an
end tr his schemes. In the mean time hie purse was
always open to the unfortunate Poles. All the fugi-
tives that passed through Constance, his Swiss home,
were quartered at his expense, and departed from
thence loaded with presents. All his large income
was spent on them. Among other things, he presented
the Polish committee a writing-case that had belonged
to the Emperor, which was sold for $4000. The com-
mittee, as an expression of their grat"tude, wrote him
f.he foLowing letter :
184 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
"We should be happy were we permitted to follov.
the impulse of our hearts, and to preserve, as a eacreii
rylic, an object which formerly belonged to the great
man, whose death the Poles, (who of late enjoyed thv
glory to belong to his phalanx,) deplore with the utmost,
grief. Five hundred of the Polish refugees, warmed
by the generous solicitude of his heart for their mis-
fortunes, have the honor to offer their sentiments of the
profoundest respect which they feel for the illustrious
descendant of the Emperor Napoleon."
In 1833, Louis Napoleon published a remarkable
pamphlet, entitled, "Political and Military Considera-
tions upon the Swiss Confederacy." It gave evidence
of thoughtful ness and of a fee talent for composition.
It created a considerable excitement in the diplomatic
world, and in the minds of military men. The consti-
tutions of the different cantons were examined, ana-
lyzed and described with astonishing sagacity for so
young an author. It abounded in superior views and
reflections, worthy of a thorough diplomatist. The
prince proposed a line of defense, which, if adopted,
would render the Swiss republic almost invulnerable
to the hostilities of foreign powers. As a mark of
their estimation of the pamphlet, the rights of citir.on
ship were conferred on him by the canton of Thurgo-
via. Ho returned thanks, (May 15, 1833,) for this
mark of esteem, in the following letter :
" I accept the rights of a citizen of Thurgovia with
the greatest pleasure. I am glad that a new tie now
binds me to that country, which for sixteen years hap
extended to us the most generous b.ospitality. My
position as an exile, renders me doubly sensible to the
interest yon show me. As a Frenchman and as a
Bonaparte, I am proud of being the citizen of a free
country. My mother desires me to tell you how much
uhe is affected bv vour kindness to rue."
THE MAJJUAX OF AJITILLERT. 85
Two years afterward, Prince Napoleon pubusned a
K'ork on artillery, for the use of the Swiss troops, as a
reward for which, the government appointed him a
captain of artillery. In acknowledging this mark of
esteem and confidence, he wrote as follows :
"I have just received the letter which informs me
hat the executive council of Berne have conferred the
title of captain of artillery on me, and hasten to ex-
press to you my gratitude for this nomination. My
country, or rather the French government, repulses me
because I am the nephew of Napoleon ; you are more
just. I am proud of being numbered among the de-
fenders of a state in which the sovereignty of the people
is considered as the basis of the constitution, and where
every citizen is ready to sacrifice himself for the liberty
and independence of his country."
This work was the result of three years of laborious
research, serious meditation, and an immense number
of practical experiments. The most competent authori-
ties gave this work the highest praise, and pronounced
Louis Napoleon to be one of the most competent mili-
tary tacticians of the age. The Swiss, French and
English journals, almost unanimously pronounced it
the best treatise on artillery existing in Europe. Al-
though nominally prepared for the use of the Swiss
troops, the real object of its composition, undoubtedly
was to win the attention of the French officers, espe-
cially those who regarded with pride the splendid
achievements of the Emperor. In this Louis Napoleon
was eminently successful, for many who had scarcely
thought of his existence at all, began to reflect upon
his position as a Bonaparte, and upon what it might
be, should a popular convulsi- -n overthrow the throne
of Louis Philippe.
6 LODI8 NAPOLEON.
In 1835, Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal, having
lost her husband, the Duke of Leuchtenberg, (son of
Eugene Beauharnois,) the question of providing her
with another husband was agitated among the Portu-
guese. Some persons of distinction opened a negotia-
tion with Louis Napoleon, on the subject of marrying
the royal widow. But as such a step would destroy
his prospects of becoming ruler of France, he per-
emptorily declined the proffered honor. A prince
without power and an exile without a country, he
seems to have had implicit faith that he would ulti-
mately become the successor of the Emperor Napoleon,
on the imperial throne of France ; and he was unwil-
ling to barter off his hopes, however dim their realiza-
tion might seem, for any present dignity, however
brilliant. The following letter, published by him, in
regard to his rumored intention of becoming the con-
sort of the Portuguese Queen, is clearly characterized
by this feeling:
" Arenemberg, December 14th, 1835.
"Several of the public journals have announced the
news of my departure for Portugal, as a suitor for the
hand of Queen Donna Maria. However flattering to
me, might be the supposition of a union with a young.
'H-autiful, and virtuous queen, the widow of a cousin
who was dear to me, it is my duty to disclaim such a
report, for which there is no foundation whatever. 1
owe it to myself moreover to add, that notwithstanding
the lively interest which 1 feel in the destinies of a
nation which h.is just recovered its liberties, I would
refuse the honor of sharing the throne of Portugal,
should T be deemed worthy of such an honor.
v ' The noble conduct of my father, who abdicated in
1810, because he could not combine the interests of
France with those of Holland, has never departed fron;
LAFAYETTE AND LOUIS NAPOLEON. 187
JAV mind. My father has proved to me by his illustri-
ous examjv e, how much one's country is preferable tc
a foreign throne. I feel, in fact, that having been ac-
customed from my youth to cherish my country above
every thing else, I could not prefer any thing to French
interests.
u Persuaded that the great name which I bear shall
not always constitute a title of exclusion in the eyes of
my fellow-countrymen, because it recalls to their mind
fifteen years of glory, I wait with calmness, in a free
and hospitable country, till the people recall into their
minds those who were exiled in 1815, by 1,200,000
foreigners. The hope of one day serving France as a
citizen and a soldier, fortifies my mind, and in my
eyes, is of more value than the whole world.
" Accept, &c.,
"NAPOLEON Louis NAPOLEON."*
As early as 1833, Louis Napoleon had been in con-
sultation with Lafayette in regard to French aifairs.
The latter was dissatisfied with Louis Philippe, and
regretted having placed him on the throne. "But
France is not republican, (he added ;) we considered
the Duke of Reichstadt as a prisoner, and there was
no one but Louis Philippe that we could place at the
head of the nation." He thought that the government
of Louis Philippe could not stand, and that the name
of Bonaparte being the most popular one in France.
Louis Napoleon might grasp the imperial eagles
and bear them successfully to Paris. After the la-
mented death of Lafayette, Armand Carral, the
* At this period Louis Napoleon seems to hare been unsettled in
regard to the name he should assume. Although his baptismal name
\ras Charles Louis Napoleon, his letters are indiscriminately signed
" Napoleon Bonaparte," " Napoleon Louis Bonaparte," and " Napoleon
Louis Napoleon." Since his accession to the Presidency of France b*
hu adopted the name of " Louis Napoleon."
188 LOC18 NAPOLEON.
acknowledged leader of the republican party, continued
the intercourse with the Prince. u llis political and
military works, (said Carral in regard to Louis Na-
poleon,) prove that, he has a noble character and a
strong mind. His name is the greatest of modern
times. If he understands the new interests of France,
if he is willing to forget his claim to imperial rights,
and think only of the sovereignty of the people, he
may yet be called to play a great part." These words
were reported to Louis Napoleon, and while they in-
flamed his ambition, strengthened his determination to
court the republican party, whose assistance was essen-
tial to the overthrow of Louis Philippe. He sought
diligently to obtain the confidence of the republicans,
and to win the affections of the army. By means of
trusty agents he sounded the dispositions of the troops
and their officers, entered into communication with
important personages, and obtained information as to
the position of parties. The result of his investigation
was neither quite favorable nor quite discouraging.
There were germs of dissatisfaction in the array ; no
doubt it was attached by its recollections to the Em-
peror; some of the commanding officers promised
their swords, but only after the first victory should be
won. The persons of note to whom overtures had been
made, showed themselves well-disposed rather than
hostile. Louis Philippe was evidently unpopular, and
doubtless it was from policy rather than from any par-
tiality to the young Bonaparte, that they wished, with-
out committing themselves to his cause, to be in a
situation to make the most of circumstances, should
Louis Philippe be overthrown.
BEVOLDTIONABY PBOJEOTB. 189
In tlie month of July, 1836, Louis Napoleon went
to J3aden in order to be near the French frontier. He
had resolved to make a decisive blow, though what the
blow should be, or when it should be struck, were not
matters of certainty. lie relied more upon the hap-
pening of some favorable exigency than upon any pre-
arranged plan. The magic of his name, however, was
his chief reliance. His favorite idea was that of
throwing himself into some large and strongly forti-
ti d town, and there, by the influence of his name, and
the boldness of his movement, to rally around him the
inhabitants and the garrison ; then to hasten, by forced
marches, to Paris, winning on his way both troops and
people. After much thought, Strasbourg appeared to
him the most favorable city for the execution of his
designs, if such his crude hopes rather than purposes,
may be called. An immense arsenal, with military
resources of every kind in abundance, a garrison of
fen thousand men, and a population greatly dissatisfied
with the established government, made this an impor-
tant place for the ground-work of his operations. The
news of a revolution at Strasbourg thus he rea-
eoned accomplished by the nephew of the Emperor,
in the name of liberty and the sovereignty of the peo-
ple, would influence all minds. Once master of the
city, a national guard would immediately be organized,
which would b sufficient to man the fortress. The
same day on which this groat revolution should be
accomplished, every thin<r would be arranged for the
march to Paris, on the morrow, with ton thousand
men, as many camp followers, one hundred piecee of
cannon, and a supply of arm* tor the population on
190 LOUIS NAPOLKON.
route. The example of Strasbourg would can-}
-virh it all Alsace and its garrisons. The line of marcL
'.vould be through Vosges, Lorraine, and Champagne.
What grand reminiscences would be awakened! What
resources secured by the patriotism of these provinces !
Metz would obey the impulse received from Stras-
bourg. Nancy, and her garrisons would be surprised,
on the fourth day, before the government would have
time to act! The national cause, as Prince Louis Na-
poleon seemed to regard his scheme, would be strength-
ened every day! Proclamations made to excite the
sympathies of the people would penetrate everywhere;
they would spread over the north, the west, the middle
and the south of France ! Besanc, on, Lyons, Grenoble,
would feel the electrifying effect of this grand revolu-
tion ! The government would be powerless! It would
be unable to retard, much less to arrest, the progress
of a movement begun with such energy ! To this
army of citizens and soldiers, enthusiastic for liberty
and glory, it could only oppose regiments shaken by
the contagious example of revolt! Paris and France
would acknowledge Louiw Napoleon as their liberator,
and by so doing enable him to become their tyrant!
So ran the reveries of the rash and audacious dreamer.
Hid presence in France, and the magic of the name
ho bore, were to accomplish all! Strasbourg and ail
France must yield to him! 'lf the present govern
merit, (said he to the friends to whom he communi-
cated his projects and his hopes,) lias committed suffi-
cient faults to make another revolution desirable; if
the government of Napoleon has left sufficiently deep
roote in the nation, I have but to appear before the
LOUIS NAPOLEON AT BTRABliOUKO. 191
and people, to remind them of their former pros
perity and glory, of their present humiliation and
grievances, and they will join me. France wishes foi
national institutions as representatives of their rights ;
for a man or a family to represent her interests. She
wishes for the popular principles of "the republic, ac-
companied by stability for the national dignity, the
order, the internal prosperity, but not the conquests of
the empire ; she might desire the external alliance of
thft restoration, but what can she wish or hope for from
the present government? My ambition is to appear
with the most popular and glorious banners ; to rally
all that is generous and noble in every party around
me; to restore the national dignity without war, liberty
without anarchy, stability without despotism. To suc-
ceed in this plan 1 must be acknowledged and assisted
by the people, for from the people alone proceed rea-
son and justice." It is by no means certain that the
prince argued unwisely.
At Baden, Louis Napoleon became acquainted with
several young officers, who declared themselves ready
to join him One evening, after one of those brilliant
parties, so customary at fashionable watering places,
he mounted his horse, and accompanied by a friend,
soon arrived at Strasbourg. In a room hired for the
purpose, fifteen officers met that night. When they
heard that Louis Napoleon was about to appear before
them, they exclaimed enthusiastically : "The Emperor's
nephew shall be welcome! He has nothing to fear;
he has confided in us ; we would defend him at the
peril of our own lives!" The prince then made his
appearance : " Gentlemen, (said he,) I have confided
I 92 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
in your honor ; 1 have perhaps risked iny life IL ordet
to see you. I wish to leuru from yourselves what are
your feelings and opinions. If the nation views the
present state of the country as I do, I think I can be
useful. The great man is no more, but our cause is
r.he same as in his time. The eagle, that sacred em-
blem, represents, as in 1815, the rights of the people
and the national glory. I act not from personal ambi-
tion, therefore tell me if 1 am wrong, and although
exile with its cares and sorrows has weighed heavilv
upon me, I will resign myself to living in a foreign
land, until happier days." "No!" exclaimed the at-
sembled officers, "you shall not languish in exile; we
have long sympathized with you ; we will restore you
to your country."
The ardor of the conspirators went on increasing
and, had they not possessed resolution and daring oi
their own, there was a woman among them who would
iuive set them a bold example. Madame Gordon, thn
daughter of a captain of the imperial guards, and
'Drought up in the worship of the Emperor, appeared
at Strasbourg and Baden as a professional singer,
Louis Napoleon became her ardent admirer. She was
informed of all his projects, and immediately plunged
into the conspiracy with the characteristic impetuosity
of female zeal. Young, beautiful, and fascinating, this
ambitious lady speedily acquired great influence
among the conspirators, and urged on the development
jf the plot
On the 25th of October, 1836, Louis Napoleon, who
nad returned from Baden to Arenemberg, again left
his mother usder the pretext of joining a hunting
ISTEBVTEW WITH COLONEL YAUDKEY. 193
party. A rendezvous had been assigned in the grand
duchy of Baden to some important personages on
whom he counted. He found no one at the place ap-
pointed, and after waiting three days, resolved to set
out for Strasbourg, where he arrived, October 28th
The next day he had an interview with Colonel Yau
drey, which would have made a man of a more patient
temperament hesitate. The colonel urged in objection,
the rashness of the enterprise ; the number of chances
against it ; the extreme uncertainty of success among
BO many hostile passions, and so many interests prompt
to take alarm ; and also the impropriety of exposing
the Emperor's nephew to such great dangers. These
prudential counsels had the more weight, coming from
a man full of courage, who had been often proved in
battle ; but Louis Napoleon thought he had gone toe
far to retreat, and the colonel gave way. The Prince
then showed him a paper in which he agreed to confer
an income of $2000 to each of Vaudrey's children, but
the incorruptible old veteran indignantly tore up the
document, exclaiming, "I give my blood, I do not
sell it!" Colonel Yaudrey was commander of the
regiment *in which the Emperor had made his first
campaign, and which at a later period, (on his return
from Elba,) proud of the recollection of this circum-
stance, welcomed him with transports at Grenoble, and
formed his escort in his triumphal march to Paris.
Louis Napoleon found a still more important, al-
though a less distinguished auxiliary, in the person of
M. de Persigny. With a quick and easy wit, clever,
energetic and bold, and with a mind full of resources,
M. de Persigny was at once the directing intelligent
13
LOUIS NAPOLEON.
and the acting agent of the adventures to which he
Dad devoted himself. Diplomatic by instinct rather
than by education, he wove the thread of the conspir-
acy with consummate ability, and in a manner to leave
him free to impress it with whatever direction he
thought best. Somewhat of a flatterer, flattery with
him was only a means of ruling, and leading the self
will and vanity of men, as with a chain of flowers,
much stronger than a chain of iron. A conspirator by
disposition and upon calculation, an adventure had
irresistible attractions for him. Devoid of enthusiasm
or passion, he enlisted himself rather in the fortunes
of the man than for the man himself, or his cause.
Cool and impassible in the face of danger, no peril
could deter or stop him. With a forethought which
prepared all the combinations, and a boldness intimi-
dated by nothing, he was the most active man in the
conspiracy.
Other actors, of secondary importance, were grouped
around these leaders, who risked not only their own
lives, but the repose of society, in their hazardous ex-
ploit. Madame Gordon, in the character of a public
singer at Strasbourg, had drawn many of these around
her as admirers, and, making their adherence to the
plot for the elevation of Louis Napoleon, the condition
on which they were to receive her smiles, had involved
them in the conspiracy.
The 30th of November, 1836, was the day fixed for
the commencement of the insurrection. It was agreed
that the first thing requisite was to win a considerable
armed force over to the Prince's side, so that the feel-
ings of the inhabitants of Strasbourg might not bf
WIGHT BEFORE THE INSTTEEECTlOiff. 195
^pressed by the authorities. After some discussion,
ft was decided, that the Prince should present himself
to the 4th regiment of artillery, at the Austerlitz bar-
racks, and from thence proceed to the Finkmatt bar-
rack, where the 46th regiment of the line was quartered.
If these two regiments joined him, all military difficul-
ties were at once at an end. The Prince's proclamations
would be instantly printed and posted up ; the authori-
ties would be arrested, and it would be impossible to
put a stop to this popular movement. If, oil the other
hand, the 46th would not join the Prince, those officers
who were devoted to him would assemble the 3d regi-
ment of artillery, and the Prince would then have been
master of a force superior to any that could have been
opposed to him.
Rooms were rented in a private honse, at a short
distance from the Austerlitz barracks. Thither Louis
Napoleon repaired on the evening of the 29th of Octo-
ber. A message was then sent to those officers upon
whom he could rely. They came, successively, toward
hree o'clock, and his rooms were soon crowded. He
aow recapitulated his plans, and the means he pos-
sessed of executing them, informed every one of what
he would be called upon to do in the morning, and
then read his proclamations aloud. At 6 o'clock in
the morning Colonel Vaudrey was to repair to the
Austerlitz barrack. The Prince exclaimed, "My poor
mother, I have deceived her! She believes that I am
with my cousin. She must learn from myself what
may be my fate." He then wrote two hasty letters, in
one of which he informed his mother of the success of
hii enterprise ; in the other he said, " I have fallen,
LOUIS NAPOLBOH.
mother, but in a noble cause. Do not weep ; do not
blame any one; nothing but my own convictions could
have induced me to act as I have done ; I have been
influenced by no one ; when I crossed the Rhine I was
prepared for all." He was evidently moved as he gave
the letters to one who stood near him, saying, "If I am
well received by the first regiment before which I pre-
sent myself, we are certain of success; therefore let
the first letter be instantly dispatched to my mother.
If I fall, send the other ; it will be my farewell." The
tears started to his eyes as he spoke, but as the sound
of the trumpet was heard at that moment, he con-
quered his emotion, and recovered that composure
which did not desert him during all the events of that
day. " This is a solemn moment, (said he, as he rose ;)
we are about commencing a great enterprise; if it suc-
ceeds, the benedictions of our country will be our re-
ward ; if it fails, the world will not find words strong
enough to depict the folly of our attempt ; but we will
bear that with resignation. We will remember the
long sufferings of the Emperor at St. Helena. We
shall fall in a great cause, and the French nation will
pity us."
In the mean time, the soldiers of Colonel Vaudrey's
regiment, aroused at an unusual hour by the sound of
the trumpet, hastened down to the court-yard of their
barracks, anxiously inquiring what had happened.
They were ordered to stand in two rows on each side
of the court, so that every man might see all that was
to take place. The Prince, having been informed that
the regiment was assembled, hastened to the scene of
action. A movement of curiosity was visible when
ADDRESS TO TUE SOLDIERS. 16
Louis Napoleon made his appearance. He advanced
toward Colonel Vaudrey, who, putting his hand on his
sword, exclaimed, "Soldiers, a great revolution is about
commencing! You behold here before you the nephew
of the Emperor Napoleon. He comes to reconquer
the rights of the people : the people and the army may
place full dependence upon him. It is around him
that all who love the glory and the liberty of France
ought to gather themselves. Soldiers, may the nephew
of the Emperor co^unt upon yon ? "
This speech was received with loud cries of "Vive
Napoleon ! Vive 1' Emperenr I " When silence was
restored, Louis Napoleon addressed them as follows :
"Soldiers! having resolved to conquer or to die for the
liberty of the French nation, I was anxious that yours
should be the first regiment before which 1 should
appear, for we are united by strong ties. It was in
your regiinent that my uncle, the Emperor, first served;
i* was with you that he distinguished himself at the
siege of Toulon ; it was your brave regiment that re-
ceived him at Grenoble, on his return from the island
of Elba. Soldiers! new destinies are in store for you
To you the glory of commencing a great enterprise!
your's is the honor of being the first to salute the eagle
of Austerlitz and of Wagram." Here the Prince seized
the eagle borne by one of his officers, and, holding it
up to the regiment, exclaimed, "This is the symbol of
glory ; may it be also that of liberty ! During fifteen
years it lead our fathers to victory ; during fifteen
years it glittered upon every battle-field, it towered
above every capital of continental Europe. Soldiers,
rally around this noble banner! 1 confide it to your
198 U)Ui3
honor and to your courage. Let us march together
against the traitors and the oppressors of our country,
crying, ' Vive hi France! vive la liberte!'"
This speech was received with acclamations. Many
of the inhabitants, attracted by the noise, joined them-
selves, in crowds, to the retinue, and mingled their
shouts with those of the soldiers. Joy and hope
beamed on every face. The first steps to be taken
were the arrest of the civil authorities, and the general
in command of the fortress. While some were dis-
patched to tiie residences of the magistrates, Louis
Napoleon proceeded to the quarters of General Voirol.
Approaching him, the Prince said "General, I come
to you as a friend. 1 should be much grieved to raise
our old tri-colored flag, without having the aid of a
brave soldier like yourself! The garrison is on my
side will you not follow me?" The general declin-
ing to join the movement, was put under arrest. After
this the troops were set in motion, but owing to an
error were led in a wrong direction. This created
much confusion. The officer intrusted with the distri-
bution of the proclamations, explanatory of the move-
ment, had failed to perform that duty, and it became
impossible to restore order, for the people were not
informed of the object of the insurrection, nor by whom
it was conducted. As the Prince was about to address
a large body of troops, he was interrupted by a dis-
turbance which arose at the other extremity of the
regiment. A Colonel Tailiandier had just arrived, and
on being told that the Emperor's nephew was there
with the 4th regiment, he could nut believe such extra-
ordinary iii tell igeuce, and his surprise was so great
A.KRK8T OP T.Ot~re .VAPOI.EOK. 19P
that he preferred attributing it to a vulgar ambition on
the part of Colonel Vaudrey, rather than to credit
the movement on behalf of the Prince. "Soldiers!
(he exclaimed,) you are deceived ! the man who ex-
cites your enthusiasm can only be an adventurer and
an impostor." An officer of his staff cried out at the
same time, "It is not the Emperor's nephew; it is the
nephew of Colonel Vaudrey ; I know him." Absurd
as was this announcement, it flew like lightning from
mouth to mouth, and began to change the disposition
of the regiment, which a moment before had been so
favorable. Great numbers of the soldiers, believing
themselves the dupes of an unworthy deception, be-
came furious. Colonel Taillandier assembled them,
and caused the gates of the barrack yard to be closed ;
while, on the other hand, the officers devoted to the
Prince gave orders to have the drums beaten to bring
forward the soldiers who had embraced the cause of
Louis Napoleon. The space they occupied was so con-
fined that the regiments became, as it were, confounded
together, and the tumult was frightful. From moment
to moment the confusion increased, and the officers of
the same cause no longer recognized each other, as all
parties wore the same uniform. Muskets were charged,
and bayonets and sabers flashed in the air, but no blow
was struck, as each feared to wound a friend. In the
midst of the confusion Louis Napoleon became sepa-
rated from his adherents, and hurried into the midst of
those who doubted his identity. There, after barely
escaping the bayonets of the indignant soldiery, he
was arrested. His friends, finding that any further
resistance was useless, yielded to the same fate. Iii
T/MTTS
the moan time the magistrates had been placed undci
arrest, and the two regiments in the other part of tti
town had enthusiastically pronounced in favor of Louis
Napoleon, and were proceeding to join him, whe*i they
heard of his arrest. This intelligence, with the reoorts
which were in circulation as to the identity of Louis
Napoleon, prevented them from acting decisively in
his behalf. To still further embarrass and paralyze the
friends of the Prince, it was also reported through all
parts of the city that the insurrection was one in favor
of the restoration of Charles X. a movement for
which they had no sympathy.
Louis Napoleon was placed as a prisoner in the cita-
del which, an hour before, he had flattered himself
with the hope of commanding. General Voirol treated
him with much kindness. fc ' Prince, (said he,) when 1
was your prisoner, I could find none but hard words to
nse toward von : now that von are mine I have none
*/ v
but expressions of consolation to oft'er you." But after-
ward he was treated with the utmost rigor by a Mon-
sieur Lebel, one of the creatures of the king. The
Prince was not even permitted to open his window., to
breathe the pure air, in a prison that stood in a circle
of loaded muskets and drawn swords. But this exces-
sive cruelty was of short duration, for in a few days he
was removed to Paris.
As Prince Napoleon had every reason to suppose
that he would be brought to trial before the house of
Peers, he busied himself in drawing up his defense,
which was found unfinished in his prison. It ran thus:
"GENTLEMEN: I do not intend to defend my hfel
I knew that I risked it when I crossed the French
; ;KKKJSSE OF i.ot:rs NAPOLEON. 20;
frontier, but i am auxioua to defend my honor and my
rights. Yes, gentlemen, my rights!
"After the revolution of 1830, 1 requested per-
mission to return to France as a private citizen. I
was repulsed. I desired to be allowed to serve as a
common soldier. No notice was taken of this request.
1 have been treated as a pretender, (aspirant) I have
acted as one !
"Do not believe, however, that mine was only the
paltry ambition to till a throne. I aspired to some-
thing higher. I wished to assemble a national Con-
gress, which, consulting the wishes of each man,
would have made French laws, without borrowing
constitutions that are not suited to us, from other
countries. The Emperor accomplished his mission ;
he prepared the nation for liberty, by introducing the
principle of equality in their customs, and by making
merit the only means of rising. Every government
that lias succeeded that of the Emperor has been ex-
clusive ; one rested wholly on the nobility and clergy,
another on a bourgeois aristocracy, a third solely on
the working classes. The government of the Emperor
rested on the people, as a general on his array. The
government of Napoleon received the popular sanction
four times. In 1804, the French nation recognized
the hereditary rights of the Imperial family by four
millions of votes. Since that period the nation has
not been consulted. As the eldest of the Emperor's
nephews, I was justified in considering myself, not us
the representative of the empire, (for within twenty
years many ideas have changed) but as the representa-
tive of the sovereignty of the nation. I have always
considered the eagle as the emblem of the rights of
the people, not ef those of a family.
"Animated by these ideas, and by the justice of my
cause, I exclaimed, 'Those princes who consider them-
selves of the Eight Divine can find men to die f<>r
ffi'-m. in order to re-eef:>';lish abuses and privileges :
and must I, whose name recalls so much glory and
liber 1 :}', must I die in ex; (" 'No!' answered mj
v*
202 LOtTS NAI'OLKON.
brave companions in misfortune, 'we will conquer
together in the cause of the French nation, or perish
with you ! ' Do not suppose that it was my aim tc
imitate the last of the Roman emperors, who wae
raised one day on the bucklers of the soldiery, and
overthrown on the next. I availed myself of the aid
of the army in attempting a revolution, as this mode
of action ottered the most chances of success ; and
besides, I was anxious to avoid the confusion and
tumult that usually attend on social conflicts. I made
a givat mistake in the execution^ of my project, but it
is little to the honor of our old soldiers that their
hearts did not bound at the sight of the eagle, the
symbol of their past glory. They once more be-
held that banner which they had planted from tho
Tagns to the Moskwa that banner which they had
watered with their blood * * * they beheld it,
and they trampled it beneath their feet!!! They told
me of their new oaths, forgetting that it was tho
presence of one million two hundred thousand for-
eigners which had released them from that they had
talken to the Imperial banner. A principle that has
been annulled hy force can only be re-established by
force. I believed that I had a mission to fulfill ; 1
have acted accordingly."
Contrary to general expectation, instead of bringing
the Prince to trial, the government secretly determined
to send him to the United States. "On the evening of
the ninth of November," says Louis Napoleon, in a
letter to his mother, "I was informed that I was to
be removed to another place of confinement. On
leaving my room, I found General Voirol and the
Prefect waiting for me. They led me to the carriage
without telling me whither I was to be conducted.
I insisted on remaining with my companions in inip-
fortune, but i found that the government had decided
otherwise. On reaching the hotel of the Prefecture,
LKTTKK TO HOETEN8E. 203
I saw twc post-cliaisep. 1 was placed in nu, with. AL
Guinat, the commander of the military district of
the Seine, and Lieutenant Thiboulot ; in the other were
four non-commissioned officers. 1 cannot describe the
)>;vin I felt at learning that i was to be separated from
my co-accnsed ; that 1 was to abandon men who had
risked their lives for me; that 1 was not to be allowed
to explain my ideas, to defend my intentions. The
two officers who had accompanied me had served in
the time of the Empire, and were intimately ac-
quainted with M. Parqnin ; I might have imagined
that I was traveling with friends. At two o'clock
on the morning of the llth, we arrived at Paris, and
alighted at the Prefecture of* Police, where 1 was most
kindly received by M. Delessert. lie told me that you
had come to France to implore the king's clemency
in my behalf, and that 1 was to set out in two hours
for L' Orient, from whence I was to sail for the United
States."
Before leaving Paris, Louis Xapoleon was allowed
to write the following letter to Queen Horteuse :
"Mv DKAK MOTHER: Your tenderness is proved
by the step you have taken. You thought only of
the danger in which I was placed, and not of my
honor, which compelled me to share the fate of my
companions in misfortune. It gives me the greatest
pain to be obliged to abandon men whom I have led
to ruin, when my presence and my testimony might
have influenced the jury in their favor. I have
written to the king to entreat him to show mercy
to them ; it is the only favor I ask. I am about leav-
ing France for America, but, my dear mother, if you
do not wish to increase my affliction, do not follow me,
I entreat you,
204
LOUIS NAPOLEOW.
"Will you see that the prisoners of Strasbourg an
in want of nothing. Take care of the sons of Colonei
Vau<l rey, who are at Paris, with their mother. I
should he resigned to my fate if I knew that the lives
of my companions would be spared ; but to feel that I
had been the cause of the death of those brave men
would give me everlasting pain.
"Farewell, dearest mothe-.*. Return to Arenemberg.
Do not attempt to join me ia America; it would make
rne too unhappy. Farewell."
The Prince was so anxious about the m&n from
whom he had been separated, that, previous to his de-
parture, he wrote to several other persons concerning
them. One of his letters ^vas quoted, at the trial ot
the prisoners of Strasbouig, by their counsel, who
exclaimed " Do you think it proper, do you think it
generous, thus to expatiate on the faults of the Prince
in his absence. If, by meai s of the press, the singular
language you have held sho ild reach his ear, would he
not have cause to complain ; would he not exclaim :
' Your government would not allow me to appear be-
fore its tribunals ; and now that, contrary to my
wishes, I have submitted to its orders, now that I
have left my country, the instruments of the law are
allowed to calumniate me. It is the object of the
government to ruin me in the opinion of the French,
whose confidence and esteem are to me invaluable.
Let such clemency be revoked ! I will not accept it
at such a price. Death is a thousand times preferable
to life with dishonor.' What generous mind could
misunderstand this noble language? I am happy in
being able to give France a more favorable opinion of
L,;:is Napoleon. He was suddenly removed frcm
TO ms cotrxsfcL. 206
prison. He was taken to Paris, where be was allowed
to pass a couple of hours to rest, after the fatigues of
the journey, and to prepare for a long voyage. How
did the noble young man employ the time thus allotted
him? He could not forgot that he had left his com-
panions under the weight of a terrible accusation. He
began a letter dated Paris, November llth, but he
had not time to conclude it immediately. The latter
part of the letter bears the date of L' Orient, Novem-
ber 15th, for lie would not put his foot on board the
vessel, which was to take him far from France, with-
out having done all he could to defend those who
had compromised themselves for him. This letter,
addressed to Odillon Barrot, ran thus:
"SiR: Notwithstanding my desire to remain with
my companions in misfortune, and to share their fate;
notwithstanding my protestations on this subject,
the king, from a kindly motive, doubtless, has or-
dered that 1 should be tf-ken to L' Orient, and from
thence to the United States. Although much touched
by the king's generosity, 1 am deeply afflicted at
leaving my companions, fcr 1 believe that my presence
at the bar, and my testimony would have influenced
the jury in their favor, and shed light on many im-
portant circumstances. A.S I am deprived of the
consolation of being usei'iv' to the men of whose ruin I
am the cause, I must, confide to a lawyer what 1 am
not allowed to tell the j iry. We are all guilty foi
having taken up arms ag.iinst the government, but I
am the most so, for I had long meditated effecting a
revolution ; I snatched my companions from an honor-
able position in society, aiid induced them to risk all
the dangers that must ah*ays attend a popular com-
motion. I seduced them by speaking to them of all
that \vas moot likely to 'iiove the heart of French
men. They told me of thoir oaths. I reminded their
206 LOUIS
that in 1815 they had sworn fidelity to Napoleon II
and his dynasty.
"The government has acted generonsly toward me.
t has considered that my being an exile, my love for
France, and my relationship to the Emperor, were
excuses for me.
"Can the jury do otherwise than follow the road
pointed out by the government?"
On the 2 1st of November, Louis Napoleon em-
barked on the frigate which was to bear him to the
American continent. The captain had sealed orders to
sail first to Rio de Janeiro, and afterward to proceed
to New York. The voyage occupied five months, and
the Prince did not arrive in New York until toward
the end of April, 1837. During the voyage he wrote
many letters to his mother, in one of which (dated
December 14, 1836) the following passage occurs:
"Two months ago I wished for nothing except never
again to behold Switzerland ; now, if I were to follow
my own inclinations, I should have no other wish than
to find myself again in my little chamber in the midst
of that fine country, in which I fancy I ought to be
so happy! Alas! when one has a soul that feele
deeply, one is destined to pass one's days oppressed
with the sense of inactivity, or in the struggles of
painful sensations. When some months ago I went to
bring home Matilda, on re-entering the park I found a
tree which had been blown down by the tempest, and
I said to myself, our marriage will be broken off by
fate. That which I vaguely guessed has become real-
ized. Have I then exhausted all the happiness which
was destined for me?"
The lady to whom the Prince makes the above allu-
sion, was the daughter of Jerome Bonaparte, and was af-
terward married to a Ilussian prince. Her extraordin-
ary beauty, her manifold graces and accomplishment!
Atfr; 51V.K KKV. .i.f ! IONABY PLOT. 207
mily justified the choice which Louis NapoleoL had
made. She was rather small, but perfectly formed.
Her head was beautifully shaped, and thrown into fine
relief by her luxuriant brown hair. Her eyes were
large and sparkling, and the features classically regu-
lar. The expression of her face was most captivating,
and revealed an elevation of character that charmed
at first su>ht. Her manners were full of spirit and
elegance. Her voice was clear and ringing. She
conversed with great fluency and vivacity, and her
language was well chosen and pointed. When she
subsequently took up her residence at Paris, she
became a great favorite in fashionable society.
It happened by a singular coincidence, that on the
same day Louis Napoleon made his attempt at Stras-
bourg, some soldiers of a hussar regiment, at Vonddme,
were forming the plan of a mutiny, the object of
which was to proclaim a republic. The plot, de-
nounced before the hour appointed for its execution,
was easily stifled. It had been conceived by a brigadier
named Bruyant, a resolute man, and one of no com-
mon stamp. Being arrested, he escaped from his
guards, and swam across the Loire. But his accom-
plices not having been able to imitate his example, he
was unwilling to escape the fate that awaited them, and
returned and surrendered himself a prisoner.
The government of Louis Philippe was in consterna-
tion. A long series of conspiracies, riots and disorders
had occurred, in which the unpopularity and weakness
of the king were displayed in a glaring and dangerous
manner. Every device was put in practice to cloak
the important nature uf the events. The ministerial
208 LOUIS NAl'ot.KON.
journals sneered at the puerility of Louis Napoleon's
enterprise, which they called a mere hair-brained freak,
die agents of the government received orders to over-
look a large number of the guilty ; the authorities re-
ported that only a small number of soldiers had taken
part in the movement, and only three subordinate offi-
cers were deprived of their commissions ; General
Voirol was raised to the dignity of a peer of France,
and thanks were given to the garrison at Strasbourg
for its fidelity to the dynasty of Louis Philippe!
The accomplices of Louis Napoleon were brought to
trial while he was on his voyage to the United States.
Seven only appeared Colonel Vaudrey, Parquin, De
Bruc, Laity, De Querelles, De Gricourt, and Madame
Gordon. The trial was one of extraordinary interest.
The rank of the accused, most of them being military
men ; the glorious past days of some ; the youth and
spirit of the others ; the ardent sympathy in favor of
the revolt all conspired to render the spectacle im-
pressive. The demeanor of the prisoners corresponded
with the interest they excited. Parquin expressed
freely the attachment he bore to the memory of the
Emperor and to his family. Madame Gordon was en-
dowed with so much beauty and fiery eloquence that
she won the sympathy of all. Querelles, De Gricourt
and De Bruc sustained their examination almost with
exultation. Colonel Vaudrey maintained a firmness
and dignity becoming his high reputation. But none
of the prisoners excited stronger interest than Lieuten-
ant Laity. His countenance was serious and earnest
In throwing himself into an enterprise in which there
uotliiug but danger on all hands, he had felt that
TRIAJL OF THE PKISOXEK8 AT BTEAEBOUKO. -09
he had given pledges to death. Ueaten, lie refusoO to
defend himself, and was only prevailed on to do so by
being informed how far such a determination was es-
sential to the safety of his companions in misfortune.
In the presence of the judges he was calm and indom-
itable : he expressed himself nobly, without art or
effort, and concisely like a soldier. "I am a republi-
can, (said he,) and I followed Louis Napoleon only be-
cause I found in him democratic opinions." The depo-
sitions of the witnesses wave occasion to various inci-
r?
dents that added to the impression produced hy the
whole affair. Colonel Talliamlier having related, that
in arresting Commandant Parquin, he had torn off his
general's epaulettes, 4he latter replied ' It is very true
that he insulted me, and he could do so with impunity:
I was his prisoner."
In the city the excitement was continually increas-
ing. The whole town rung with loudly expressed
wishes for the acquittal of the prisoners. The senti-
ments of Lieutenant Laity were vociferously applauded.
The republicans were eager to have the authority of
the reigning king weakened others desired merely
the humiliation and defeat of the ministry. But all
agreed in masking the real ground of their desire for
an acquittal, by appealing to the principle of equity.
It was injustice, they argued, to punish the accomplices
of the Prince when he had been sent beyond the reach
of punishment. At every step the jurors encountered
symptoms and expressions of feeling that could not but
have a contagious effect upon them. And when, on
the 18th of January. 1837, the verdict of acquittal was
rendered, the building was tilled with shouts of
ii
210 LOUIS NAl'OLEOB.
exultation. The same enthusiasm prevailed in ti
streets. The city of Strasbourg put on the appearance ot
a holiday, and a sumptuous banquet was given to tae
released prisoners. The issue of the prosecution struck
the government with consternation. Louis Philippe was
particularly mortified by it. The evidence of conspira-
cies arid of implacable animosity which confronted
him, and which put his life and his throne in hourly
peril, rendered his position far from enviable.
When Louis Napoleon was sent to the United States,
instead of being tried for high treason, it was generally
believed that it was done upon his pledge not to return
to Europe within ten years. That Louis Philippe
should have been at the expense of sending him
away to say nothing of this exercise of clemency
without such a guarantee, either written or verbal, it is
\\ nciilt to believe. The fact that his mother went to
Pari* to intercede for him would lead to the belief that
some conditions must have been attached to his par-
don. His letter to his mother on his departure clearly
intimates his expectation of a long absence, and for a
Considerable time after his arrival in the United States,
h^ had no thought of returning to the old world, lie
\v;is actually making preparations for an extended tour
through the Western States, when he received the fol-
lowing letter from his mother, announcing her dan-
gerous illness, and the prospect of her speedy death.
"Mr DEAR SON, I am about to undergo an opera-
tion which has become absolutely necessary. In case
it should not terminate successfully, I send you, in this
letter, my blessing. We shall meet again shall we
not? in a better world, where, I trust, you will come
at the end of a long life to rejoin me. Believe me that
n OF HORTTCNSK. 211
hi quitting this world 1 leave nothing to regret except
you, and your tender affection, which has alone given
it any charms. It will be a consolation to yon, my
dear son, to remember that by your attentions you
have rendered your mother as happy as her circum-
stances would permit. You will think of all my affec-
tion for you and take courage. Believe that the dead
always have an interest in what they leave below, and
that, assuredly, we shall all meet again. Dwell on this
delightful thought : it is too necessary not to be true.
I press you to my heart, my dear child. I am per-
fectly calm, and entirely resigned: still, I hope we may
meet again in this world. May God's will be done.
" Your affectionate mother,
" IlORTENSE.
"April 3d, 1837."
It is deserving of remark, that in this letter, Hor-
tense makes no allusion to her son's return, as a step
which he was at liberty to undertake a step for
which, as a mother, she would naturally feel anxious,
if it conld be taken without dishonor or danger. But
on hearing of the illness of his mother, Louis Napoleon
immediately embarked for London, and from thence
went to Switzerland in time to receive the last embrace
and blessing of his dying mother. A few moments
before she expired, Queen Ilortense stretched out her
hand to each of the persons of her household : they
were overwhelmed with sorrow, while she was calm
and resigned. At the foot of her bed her son was on
his knees. Dr. Conneau, who had long been attached
to her person, and whose tender and assiduous care
had prolonged her life, and alleviated her sufferings,
watched anxiously the ebbing breath of his illustrious
and unfortunate patient. Profound silence reigned in
the chamber in which death was present. The queen
turned slowly toward her son and the doctor, and said,
l>OtJT8
with a feeble voice, "You are very unfortunate, in)
children! farewell, Louis ! farewell!" Her eon threw
himself into her arms ; she jtressed him to her heart,
with a supernatural strength, and again, with fearful
vehemence, uttered a final "Adieu, adieu, adieu"
She fell back exhausted ; her noble figure resumed an
angelic serenity, aud her eyelids closed. Her son
hung over her ; and, with a voice which he in vain
attempted to render calm, said, " Mother, do you know
me? It is your son! your Louis! my mother!"
She made an effort to speak, and to open her eyes; but
her hands were already cold, and her eyelids paralyzed,
and she could only make a feeble, almost impercep-
tible, movement to this earnest appeal. Her natural
tenderness, so true and so exalted, had already con-
veyed to her half-expiring heart the voice of her son.
A feeble motion of the hand which he held assured
him of the fact, and in an instant after, the last sigh of
his mother sounded upon his ears. She died on the
5th of October, 1837. Death gave her a tomb in her
native land. Her remains were deposited in the vil-
lage church at Rnel. by the side of those of her mother,
the Empress Josephine, that noble woman, who was
neither elated by the grandeur of the imperial throne,
nor depressed, when, by an iniquitous political divorce,
she was compelled to descend from it.
By her will, executed on the 3d of April. 1837,
Queen llortense as she continued to be called long
after she ceased to reign bequeathed various legacies
to friend? and person? about her establishment, leav-
ing, oi' course, the bulk of her property to her Bon. It
concludes as follows: "I wish that my husband may
LOtTlB &At*OLEON At ARENRMUEttG. 213
fcrect some memorial to my memory, and that he
should know that my greatest regret was that I conld
not render him happy. I have no political advice to
give my son ; I know that he is aware of his position,
and of all the duties which his name imposes upon
him. I forgive all sovereigns with whom I have had
relations of friendship, their injustice toward me. I
forgive all persons for the falsity of the reports which
they have constantly circulated about me. I forgive
certain Frenchmen, to whom 1 have had opportunities
of being useful, for the calumnies with which they
have loaded me by way of requital. I forgive those
who have believed these statements without investiga-
ting them, and I hope to survive for a little while in the
memory of my fellow countrymen. I thank all those
who are around me, as also my servants, for their
attention, and I hope they will not forget my memory."
After the death of his mother, Louis Napoleon con-
tinued to reside at Arenemberg, where he seemed for
a time to confine himself to the study of military tac-
tics and political economy. But in 1838 he induced
Lieutenant Laity, who had been involved in the Stras-
bourg affair, to write a pamphlet justifying the attempt
which was then made to subvert the throne of Louis
Philippe. His publication was looked upon by the
government as the manifestation of a new conspiracy,
and the luckless lieutenant was arrested. "When he
was upon the eve of his trial, Louis Napoleon wrote
him a letter of condolence, so injudiciously expressed
that it could not but aggravate the case of the person
214 LOOTS NAPOLKOW.
where in France, from the workshop of tne artizan to
the council-chamber of the king. lie closed by say-
ing "But if one day the movement of parties should
overthrow the existing powers, (and the experience of
the last tifty years authorizes the belief,) and if, accus-
tomed, as tljey have been for the last twenty-three
years, to despise authority, they should undermine all
the foundations of the social editice, then, perhaps,
the name of Napoleon, may prove an anchor of safety
for all that is noble and truly patriotic in France."
This indiscreet letter aided in the condemnation of
Laity to Hve years imprisonment.
The French government, to whom the presence of
Louis Napoleon in Switzerland occasioned great unea-
siness, required his expulsion from the country. This
being refused, a considerable army was sent toward the
Swiss frontier, to enforce compliance. The Swiss, on
their part, made preparations for resistance, and for
the defense of their territory. A painful and unequal
conflict was in prospect, when the Prince prudently
pnt an end to further trouble by voluntarily withdraw-
ing from Switzerland. The following passages occur
in his communication to the government announcing
his determination :
" A month ago, Switzerland, by her energetic pro-
tests, and now by the decision of lier great councils, at
this time assembled, has shown that she was and is ready
to make the greatest sacrifice for the maintenance of
her dignity and rights. She 1ms done her duty as an
independent nation : I know how to do mine, and to
remain faithful to the voice of honor. I mav be perse-
cuted, but never degraded. The French government.
having declared that the refusal of the Diet to yield
to its demands would be the signal of a conflagration
NAPUl.hX'.N IX ENGLAND. 215
>r which bwit/erland "would become the victim ; I
have no alternative but to quit a country, when ray
presence is made the cause of such unjust preten-
sions, and would be made the excuse for such great
misfortunes.
"In quitting, voluntarily, for the present, the only
country in Europe where i have met with support and
protection, and which lias now become dear to me for
so many reasons, 1 hope to prove to the Swiss people,
that I was worthy of those marks of esteem ana affec-
tion which they have lavished upon me. 1 hope this
separation will not be perpetual, and that a day will
come, when, without compromising the interests of two
nations, which ought to remain friends, 1 shall be able
to return to an asylum which twenty years residence
and acquired rights have made, as it were, a second
father-land."
Louis Napoleon then sought refuge in England, and
remained in London from the end of the year 1838,
until the month of August, 1840. During this period,
it is said, many of his days and nights were spent on
the race-course, in gambling houses, or other equally
disreputable places of resort, and that often his inti-
mates were among the least honorable members of the
"gay" world. Meanwhile it is asserted that he was
in the habit of frequently boasting, in the presence of
Englishmen, that he would some day be Emperor of
France, and that then the first thing he should do
would be to invade England. "I like you very well
a> a people, (said he,) but I must wipe out Waterloo
and St. Helena!"
While Louis Napoleon was making his daring at-
tempt to restore the dynasty of the Emperor, Charles
X., who had been driven into exile to give place on the
fhrone of France for Lours Philippe, was dying in a
email town in a remote corner of the Auatriaa empire.
'216 LOL'18 NAl'OLEOM.
For six years he had resided, as an exiie, in Kiig.and
in Prussia, in Bohemia, and at iVague. in 1836, lie
removed to Goritz, in Styria, one of the Austrian
provinces. The winter was excessively severe, and the
rigor of the climate seriously affected his already im-
paired health. lie was the prey of a profound mel-
ancholy, and the subject of death was frequently
mentioned by him. "The day is not far distant, (lie
said,) that shall witness the funeral of the poor old
man." On the morning of November 4, 1830, St.
Charles' day, he was seized with a chill during the
celebration of mass ; and, in the evening, when he en-
tered the saloon, where the members of his family were
assembled, with a few who comprised his court, they
were tilled w-ith dismay by his aspect. His features
were strangely contracted ; his voice was dismally
sonorous ; it could no longer be doubted that death
was upon him. In the night his friends were called
around the bedside of the dying monarch. lie awaited
with tranquillity the momentous change which was
about to take place, and conversed calmly on the things
of eternity with the Bishop of Ilermopolis, who was
present to cheer and comfort him in his agony. His
family knelt down to receive his dying blessing. Lay-
ing his hands on their heads, he said "God protect
you, my children! Walk in the ways of righteousness.
Do not forget me, and pray often for me !" In the
night of the 5th of November, he fell into a deep leth-
argy, a slight motion iof the lips alone showing that he
ptill lived. Early on the morning of the 6th, all pres-
ent fell on their knees, and agonizing sobs burst from
thoir lips. Charles X. was dead. Five days afterward
KBA.TH OK IHK DUCK ! >' AJSGOULEMB. 217
his corpse was carried to the Franciscan convent,
situated on a height at a little distance from the town.
There, in an ordinary sepulcher, by the feeble light of
a lamp, his friends were permitted, for the last time, to
look upon the pale features of the fallen monarch. He
had died at the advanced age of seventy-nine years.
All the reigning houses of Europe put on the mourning
prescribed by etiquette, one alone excepted that of
his relation, Louie Philippe !
The Duke d' Angouleme, (son of Charles X.,) who,
after the death of his father, was called King of France,
by the adherents of the Bourbons, died May 4, 1844,
at Goritz. His death produced no other eifect than to
fix the eyes of the Bourbonists more distinctly upon
the Duke of Bordeaux, his nephew, arid son of the
Duchess de Berri, who was thereafter called Henry V.
He was a harmless character, of no marked talent, and
of no decided propensities. During the government
of Charles X. he was contented with doing what he
was bid at the Revolution of 1830 he was contented
with doing nothing and during his exile he was
contented with being nothing. Though exiled he could
scarcely be called unfortunate. He had the means of
existence without the trouble of exertion he had the
name of a prince without its responsibilities and he
had the title of a king, without its labors, its duties, or
its cares.
The Emperor Napoleon, while at St. Helena, had
often expressed un ardent desire to be buried in France.
This wish was solemnly and pathetically repeated in
hie will. "Jt is rny wish, (said he, after making his
uuiuerous bequests,) that my ashes may repose on th
10
218 U)LIS
banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people
whom 1 loved so well." The predecessors of Luiiis
Philippe had refused to request of the British govern-
ment permission to remove the remains of Napoleon
from their island tomb, for interment in France. The
popular feeling on the subject had grown so strong in
1840, that Louis Philippe considered it politic to yield
to the national wish, and accordingly his son, Prince
of Joinville, was dispatched to St. Helena to perform
the office of restoring the ashes of the Emperor to the
soil of France. When the stirring announcement rung
in the ears of the French, that the venerated remains of
Napoleon were on the sea, wafted by every breeze still
nearer to his idolized France, there was an upheaving
of the popular heart which cannot be described or even
appreciated by a foreigner. The energy and warmth
of the emotions aroused by this intelligence attested the
fidelity of the French heart to the memory of the Em-
peror. It was an event highly favorable to the views
of the partisans of Louis Napoleon, and they urged
him to undertake another expedition for the overthrow
of Louis Philippe. " Is it fitting," it was asked, in
the passionate language of many of the old followers
of the Emperor, " is it fitting that the corpse of Na-
poleon should be insulted by the presence of the
Bourbon family, which united with Europe in chaining
him alive to the rock of St. Helena ; which vindic-
tively condemned to death his greatest marshals ; and
still pursues his nearest relatives in ignominious exile?
Is it becoming," they persisted, "that his revered ashes
should be touched by the profane hands of his ene-
mies, when, as a duty and a right, they should be
LOUIS NAPOLEON AT BOULOGNE. 219
delivered up to the pious care of his relatives, for
those imposing ceremonies which the whole nation will
stand by in solemn grief to witness? 1 ' In compliance
with these requests, and the promptings of his own
restless and ambitious heart, Louis Napoleon deter-
mined on a second invasion of France. The regiment
that had declared in his favor at Strasbourg was then
stationed in the neighborhood of Boulogne, and accord-
ingly, at the latter place it was determined to under-
take the Revolution. Hiring a steamer, he started,
with sixty followers, for the coast of France.
There were but two companies of infantry quartered
at Boulogne, and it was soon ascertained that they
would zealously join the Prince. A captain, of one of
these companies, however, who had received some
favors from the king, adhered to his allegiance, and
obstinately refused all the advances made to him. It
was then decided to have him removed to some other
point, and a short delay ensued in order to accomplish
this. Orders were finally issued, transferring him to
another command, and the day for his departure
named. Some accident prevented his going, which
event proved fatal to the enterprise of Louis Napoleon.
On the 6th of August, 1840, the day following the
supposed departure of the loyal captain, the Prince
laii'lor! with his suite at sunrise just below the town,
and repaired instantly to the barracks. His arrival
wa> no sooner announced than every soldier rushed
into the court-yard, giving the wildest expression to
hip enthusiasm. They mounted the Prince on theii
shoulders, and ijoiv him about in triumph. Anxious
t lose not a moment in escaping from Boulogne on
220 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
his road to St. Omer, where the garrison awaited him
Louis Napoleon endeavored to establish order, and
addressing a tew stirring words to the troops, he bade
them follow him. Brandishing their arms, and ut-
tering the most passionate cries of devotion, they
obeyed his summons, and dashed toward the portal of
the barracks. Here the whole movement was checked
by the unexpected apparition of -the afore-mentioned
officer, who had hastened to the barracks on hearing of
the event. His soldiers quailed at the sight of him,
and, drawing his sword, he began a spirited harangue.
The moment was critical in the extreme. Every min-
ute's delay was attended with imminent danger. The
partisans of the government were actively at work
assembling the National Guard, which the small force
on the side of the sedition was in no wise adequate to
meet. Advancing impetuously toward the sole object
in his path, the Prince addressed the contumacious
captain in strong terms of remonstrance ; words en-
sued, and in the heat of the moment the Prince drew
a pistol and tired at him. The shot, missing its object,
unhappily took effect on a poor soldier, who was at
that very moment shouting "Vive Napoleon III.!"
This painful incident distressed the Prince, and
threw a damper over the spirits of all. A report, too,
was at that instant brought him, which afterward
turned out incorrect, that one of his principal officers
had abandoned his cause, and gone over to the king.
Growing desperate with his situation, he made an en-
ergetic effort to dissipate the confusion prevailing, and
rally the drooping courage of his troops. Their reso-
lution returned, and, still accompanied by the greatei
SECOND PEVKAT OK JA>riB NAPOLEON. C : !l
}mrt, he made his way to the gates of the town. To
bis utter discomfiture, he found them closed ; and
turning round, he saw himself, and a handful of men,
hemmed in on every side by the National Guard,
which, as yet, bad no distinct idea whom or what
they were contending with. An immediate surrender
would have been, perhaps, the most prudent thing
under the circumstances, but such was not the mood of
the Prince. Nobly supported by the forlorn hope
which still clung to him, lie charged with such impetu-
osity on the forces in his front as to scatter them in
every direction. Without any purpose, and bereft of
every chance of success, the idea occurred to him to
make for the column erected near the town-, to the
Imperial army and cutting his way through all opposi-
tion he succeeded in reaching it. Here turning round
he exclaimed to his devoted followers: "It is useless
now to explain my projects my cause and yours is
lost there is nothing left but to die;" and he per-
sisted in his mad resolution to fight till some well
directed ball should save him the pain of surviving hia
defeat. In defiance of his struggles and menaces, hit
friends seized him in their arms, and carried him ofl*
to the beach, where a small boat was lying in wait
to convey them to the steamer, which still lingered in
the ofiing. They reached the shore in safety, and
the Prince was entreated to shelter himself in the
bottom of the skiff. They pushed off and made des-
perate efforts to reach the steamer, little dreaming that
it had already, with all its treasures, fallen into the
hands of the Government. They were but a few rods
from the shore, when the National Guard overtook
222
U>U1S NAl-Oi.KOJT.
them, and, though seeing them unarmed and entirely
exposed, opened a galling fire upon them. Here a
touching incident occurred, which gave a new turn to
the melancholy affair, and brought it to a quick and
tragic consummation. A l>rave old soldier, Colonel Me-
sonan, arrived after the boat had left, and being hotly
pursued, threw himself into the surf, and made great
exertions to overtake his friends. He had swum a
considerable distance, amid a shower of fire, and had
nearly reached them, when his strength began to fail,
and lie was about to sink. Efforts were made to
rescue him, but he cried out, "Push on save the
Prince, and leave me to my fate ! " Escaping from the
grasp of his friends, who were endeavoring to keep
him out of danger, the Prince, wholly regardless of
the risk, laid hold of his faithful old partisan, and en-
deavored to drag him in. In the attempt the boat was
upset, and the whole party were precipitated into the
water. This painful event, instead of awakening the
humanity of those on the shore, who disgraced the
uniform they wore, only seemed to renew their zeal.
They fired volley after volley on the unfortunate band,
whose numbers were rapidly diminished. Some were
ehot, others drowned ; but the Prince succeeded in
reaching the shore, when he stood unshrinkingly up,
folded his arms, and facing his enemy, calmly awaited
his death-blow. Two of his friends, Count Dunin and
M. Faure, faithful to the last, were shot dead at his
side. Col. Voisin rushed forward to protect him, and
received several balls in different parts of his body.
M. Galveni, a Pole, in attempting the same tiling, fell
grievously wounded. The prince himself was struck
TRIAL OF LOUIS N'Al'OLfiOH 225
bj two balls iii the arm and in the leg, but the inju-
ries were not serious. When, at length, the NaMonal
Guard of Boulogne saw that nearly every man was
down, and that the Prince, perfectly unarmed, wap
standing a tranquil target for their murderous aim,
they plucked up resolution enough to approach and
seize him. The ensuing day he was conveyed to Paris,
and all along the road received the warmest marks of
sympathy and regret. In every garrison town the sol-
diers collected in groups about his carriage, and in
their varied expressions of grief and anger, might be
traced the strength of their attachment, and the bitter-
ness of their disappointment.
Toward the end of September, 1840, Louis Xapoleon
and his accomplices were tried before the Court of
Peers, when, on the 28th of that month, he made the
following speech in his own defense :
"For the first time in my life it is permitted to me
to lift my \*oice in France, and to speak freely to
Frenchmen.
" Undaunted by the presence of the guards who
surround me ; in spite of the accusations which I have
just heard brought against me ; filled with the recollec-
tions of my earliest childhood, on finding myself within
the walls of the senate ; in the midst of you, gentlemen,
whom I know, I can hardly believe that I have any
hope of justifying myself, and that you should be my
judges. An opportunity, however, is afforded me of
explaining to my fellow-countrymen my past conduct,
my intentions, my projects ; all that I think, all that I
have at heart.
"Without pride, but also without weakness, if I re-
call the rights deposited by the nation in the hands of
my family, it ib solely to explain the duties which these
rights have imposed upon us.
"Since fifty years age, when the principle of the
294 LotJis
sovereignty of the people was consecrated in Franca
by the most powerful Revolution which ever occurred
in the history of the world, never was the national will
BO solemnly proclaimed, never was it asserted by suf-
frages so numerous and so free, as on the occasion
when it adopted the constitutions of the empire.
"The nation has never revoked that grand act of
its sovereignty, and the Emperor has declared it
4 Whatever has been done without its authority is
illegal.'
"At the same time, do not allow yourselves to be-
lieve that, led away by the impulses of personal ambi-
tion, I have wished by these acts to attempt in France
a restoration of the empire. I have been taught noble
.essons, and. have livea with nobler examples before
me, than to do so.
" I was born the son of a king, who descended with-
out regret from a throne, on the day when he had reason
to believe that it was no longer possible to conciliate
with the interests of France those of the people whom
he had been called upon to govern.
"The Emperor, my uncle, preferred abdicating the
empire to accepting by treaty the restricted frontiers,
while he could not but expose France to the insults and
the menaces in which foreign nations to this day per-
mit themselves to indulge. I have not lived a single
day forgetful of such lessons. The unmerited and cruel
act of proscription, under which for twenty-five years
I have endured a lingering existence beginning at
the steps of the throne, where I was born, and now
stopping at the dungeon from which I have just come
has been alike powerless to irritate as to fatigue my
heart; it has not been able for a single day to estrange
ine from the glory, the rights, and the interests of
France. My conduct and my convictions sufficiently
explain the fact.
"In 1830, when the people reconquered their sove-
^eignty, 1 had expected that the policy of the following
days would have been as loyal as the conquest itself,
and that the destinies of France would have been
established forever; instead of this, the country has
F t.oi-rs \.U'oi.1<:ofc.
undergone the melancholy experiences <>f the last ten
years. Under such circumstances 1 considered thai the
vote of 4,000,000 of fellow-countrymen, which had ele-
vated my family to supreme power, imposed upon me
at leart the duty of making an appeal to the nation.
and inquiring what was its will. I thought also that
if, in the midst of the national congress which 1 in-
tended to convene, certain pretensions should have
made themselves heard, I should have had the right to
re-awaken the glorious souvenirs of the empire ; to
Bpeak of the elder brother of the Emperor, of that vir-
tuous man who before me is his only heir ; and to con-
trast, face to face, this France as she is now, weakened
and passed over in silence in the congress of kings,
and the France of that day, when she was so strong at
home, and abroad so powerful and so respected. The
nation would then have replied to the question, ; Re-
public or Monarchy? Empire or Kingdom?' And
upon the free discussion of the nation upon this ques-
tion depends the termination of our sorrows and of
our dissensions.
"With respect to ray enterprise, I repeat it I had
no accomplices. It was I alone who determined every
thing ; nobody knew beforehand my plans, nor my
resources, nor my hopes. If f am guilty as against
anybody, it is against my friends only. Nevertheless.
I hope that they will not accuse me of having lightly
trifled with courage and devotion such as theirs. They
will understand the motives of honor and of prudence
which prevent me from revealing, even to themselves,
how widely based and how powerful were my reasons
for hoping for a successful result.
" One word more, gentlemen. 1 represent before
eou a principle, a cause, and a defeat. The principle
.6 the sovereignty of the people ; the cause is that
of the empire ; the defeat is that of Waterloo. The
jrinciple you have recognized it; the cause you
*ave served" in it; the defeat yon would avenge
u! No. then, there is no dis-accord between \<-ii and
we ; and I will not believe that I can be destined to be
grieved by the disaffection of any others.
15
T/>TTtS WAPOLHtttf.
" Representing a political cause, I cannot accept ai
the judge of my intentions and of my acts, a political
tribunal. Nobody will be imposed upon by your forms.
In the struggle which is now commencing, there will
be but one to conquer, one defeated. If you are in the
ranks of the conqueror, I cannot expect justice at your
hands, and 1 will not accept of your generosity."
On the 6th of October, 1840, the court delivered its
sentence, convicting all its prisoners, with three excep
tions, and condemning Louis Napoleon to perpetual
imprisonment. The sentence of the others was less
severe. When he heard the decision of the court he
is recorded to have exclaimed "At least I shall have
the happiness of dying in France!" His letter of
thanks to M. 1 Jerry er, the eminent counsel who con-
ducted his defense, was a specimen of the extravagant
rhetoric to which Louis Napoleon seems to have been
much addicted, and which ever casts a shade of doubt
over the sincerity of the fine sentiments he may utter.
The letter was closed with the following words "I
know net what fate may have in reserve for me; I
know not if 'I shall ever be in a position to prove to
you my gratitude ; I know not if you would ever con-
sent to accept any proofs of it ; but whatever may be
our respective positions, apart from politics, and their
painful obligations, we can always entertain feelings
of friendship and esteem for one another ; and I de-
clare to you that, if my trial had had no other result
than to obtain for me your friendship, I should con-
sider myself immensely the gainer by it, and should
not complain of my fate ! "
Two months afterward, while Louis Napoleon was
pining in the walls of a prison, the ashes of his uncle
ADDRESS ru :!]!: ou'i^'OR's REMAINS. 227
were received in Paris and buried with the greatest
pomp, and amid the enthusiastic rejoicings of the people
of the whole country. This occasion Louis Napoleon
seized to write a wild rhapsody, addressed, u Aux
Manes de 1' Empereur ; " of which the following is a
translation :
TO THE MANES OF THE EMPEROR.
-CITADEL or HAM, Dec. 15, 1810.
vt SiKE Yon return to your capital, and the people
in multitudes hailed your return ; while 1 from the
depth of my dungeon can only discern a ray of that
sun which shines upon your obsequies"! Do not be
angry with your family, that it is not there to receive
you : your exile and your misfortunes have ceased with
your life ; ours continue always ! You have expired
upon a rock, far from your country and from your
kindred ; the hand of a son has not closed your eyes;
and to-day none of your kinsmen will follow your
bier! Monfholon, whom you loved the most among
your faithful companions, has performed the office of a
sou; he remains faithful to your ideas and has fill HI led
your last wishes. He has conveyed to me your last
words. lie is in prison with me ! A French vessel,
under the command of a noble youth, went to claim
your ashes ; in vain you would look upon the deck for
any of your kin; your family was not there. \Vheu
you touched the soi! of France, an electric shock was
felt ; you raised yourself in your coffin ; your eyes
were for a moment re-opened ; the tricolor floated
upon the shore, but your ea'gle was not there! The
people, as in former times, press around your coffin,
and salute you with their acclamations, as if you were
still alive ; but the courtiers of the day, while render-
ing you homage, say with suppressed breath 'God
grant, he may not awake!' You have at length seen
again these French, whom you loved so much ; yon
h:m> returned arain into that France, which y<>u made
so great ; but foreigner^ biive left their truce, which
228 LOUIS NAPOLEOH.
the pomp of your return can never efface! See that
young array ; they are the sons of your veterans ; they
venerate you, for you are their glory ; but it is said to
them, 'Fold your arms!' Sire, the people are the good
stuff which cover our beautiful country, but these men
whom you have made so great, and who are yet so
small ah, sire, regret them not ! They have denied
your gospel, your glory and your blood ; when I have
spoken to them of your cause, they have said to me,
'We do not understand it!' Let them say, let them
do ; what signifies to the car which rolls, the grains
of sand which it crushes under its wheels! They say
in vain, that you were a meteor which has left no trace
behind ; in vain they deny your civil glory ; they will
not'disinherit us! Sire, the fifteenth of December is a
great day for France and for me. From the midst of
your splendid funeral train, disdaining the homage
of many around, you have, for a moment, cast your
eyes upon my gloomy abode, and calling to mind the
caresses you lavished upon me when a child, you have
said to me, ' You have suffered for me ; son, I am
satisfied with you ! '
"Louis NAPOLEON BONAPARTK."
Louis Napoleon was imprisoned in the fortress of
Ham, in the province of Picardy. It is one of the
strongest citadels in France, and has, for centuries,
been occasionally used for the confinement of prisoners
of state. It was used by Louis Philippe, after the
overthrow of Charles X. in 1830, for the incarceraf"' . -
of the ministers of the fallen monarch.
The fortress of Ham is one of great antiquity, the
place having been occupied as a military station as
early as the time when the legions of Julius Cseeui
were in possession of the country. Portions of the
ctisfrle, s:ill remaining, were constructed in the fourtl;
cenjurj. On the plains in its iseighborhood, the wild
THE CONSTABLE'S TOWER. 229
nnd warlike Huns, under Attila, were defeated iu the
fifth century. It was a place of much importance
during the feudal wars. In 923, an heir of Charle-
magne was imprisoned in Ham ; and 923 years after-
ward, the heir of Napoleon the only French monarch
whose fame rivals that of Charlemagne was a pris-
oner within the same massive and gloomy walls.
One of the most remarkable features of the castle is
the " Constable's tower.' 1 It is one of much interest,
both from the singularity of its construction and its
romantic history. It was built in 1460, by the Count St.
Pol, Constable of France. This powerful feudal lord
was on but indifferent terms with his wily sovereign
Louis XI., and fearful that matters might go the length
of an open breach, he bethought him of building this
gigantic tower of one hundred feet in height, the same
in diameter, with walls thirty feet in thickness, in
whose capacious sides were constructed various cham-
bers. A wide moat or ditch formerly surrounded it,
adding to its security. Proud of this structure, he
engraved on its massive portal the words still legi-
ble, man mieux, (my best) and confidently relied on
its strength to protect him in case of need against
the worst assaults of his formidable enemy. He cal-
culated without hie host, poor fellow, and with a
strange blindness to the character of his foe. The
Louis of that day was notorious for his exceeding
craftiness, and. of choice, preferred always to accom-
plish his aims by trickery, even when simple means
would have been better. Instead of bringing his terri-
ble artillery to bear on the impregnable sides of mon
mieux which would have "laughed a siege to scorn,"
230 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
he expressed in dissembling language, his admira
tiou of its noble masonry, and not long after, in affec-
tionate terms, invited its enterprising projector to
Paris, where the confiding St. Pol betook himself, little
dreaming that the structure he had erected to pYeserve
his life would only serve as a monument to comrnemo
rate his death. He was seized, imprisoned, and be
headed, on reaching the court of his treacherous
master.
In one of the various cells of this great tower, ac-
cording to a popular tradition, a Capuchin friar was
once imprisoned. When and for what, no one knows.
But it appears that his misfortunes were the conse-
quence of his virtnes a very common thing at a time
when vice was triumphant, and guided the affairs of
the world ! Providence, however, gave the most strik-
ing proofs of its favor and protection to the poor Capu-
chin ; for, if we can give credit to the legend, the monk
continued to live for a long period of years, in chains,
supported by the fervor of his prayers alone! His
body had become so hardened, so petritied, by his pri-
vations, that his head had worn the stone which served
liim for a pillow, and left impressed upon it the form
of his countenance and the shape of his ear. It will
easily be understood with what devotion this holy
t-tone was visited, when it is known that every joung
girl who came to visit the shrine, and who, after having
brought it into contact with her garments, religiously
detached a small portion of it, believed she would not
fail to find a husband within a year. It is needless to
add, that in consequence of the soft and friable nature
of the stone, that which is now sL wu in one of the
THE LOVERS OF PICABDT. 231
asements of the great tower, has yielded with such a
good grace to the devotional acts of the successive
generations of the damsels of Picardy, that at present,
there is neither impression of countenance or of ear,
nor, indeed, of any thing which has any resemblance
whatever to any part of the good Capuchin friar.
There was a young man, named Lautrec, (says
mother tradition, much more recent and less doubtful
than that of the Capuchin,) handsome in person and
of an ardent temperament. He met with a young
woman beautiful as himself, and full of generous pas-
sion, but chaste, pious and imbued with candor and
modesty. Lautrec ardently loved her; with a love
such as men of his character feel, impassioned and ill-
regulated. The young girl reciprocated his affection.
She loved Lautrec, but she loved him with tender
innocence. Her condition was obscure, and she had
no property to redeem her from it. Lautrec imagined,
for some time, that love would gain the ascendancy in
her mind over virtue; but he was deceived. The poor
girl, astonished and humiliated, found an inflexible
strength in her purity of mind. Lautrec had no hopes
of prevailing over or soothing his father's pride, and
he did not, therefore, make the attempt to obtain her
as his bride. The fruitless passion which consumed
him became an obstinate and irresistible evil. His
complexion faded; his looks lost their vivacity; he
lived in seclusion ; and became gloomy, thoughtful,
and taciturn. He scarcely listened to those who ad-
dressed him, and answered only with groans.
Lautrec had an uncle, still young, who had beeo
early raised to hiph offices of dignity in the church,
232 LOCJIS NAPOLEON.
and bad always treated him with great affectiou. This
uncle marked the serious change which had taken
place in his nephew, and was distressed at the result,
lie often put very pressing questions, which the young
man evaded. The uncle would not suffer himself to
be repulsed, and persevered. Lautrec, at length yield-
ing to his affection and importunities, allowed his secret
to escape. In an age in which moral duties sat lightly,
and men were very unscrupulous in their conduct, love
was hardly ever treated as a serious affair. The uncle
adopted all possible means to overcome the love of his
nephew. Failing in this he urged the maid to submit
to the young man's unlawful passion, and made offers
of great wealth as a compensation for the sacrifice of
her honor. But the virtue of the poor girl was not
less deeply rooted in her heart, than her passion. The
inllexible simplicity of her young mind disconcerted
all the resources of ingenuity. The heart of the uncle
himself was troubled, and a perverse, wicked and
frightful idea entered his mind. He would himself
effect her ruin. So many charms had captivated him,
so much virtue filled him with inexpressible admira-
tion. The unhappy man yielded to his passion, and
ventured to declare his love. A cry of horror and
fear was the only reply which the young girl could
make : confounded and terrified, he fled. At the same
moment, Lautrec arrived. The girl wept, groaned, and
evinced symptoms of the most violent despair. The
young man became desperate, and asked her the cause
of such extraordinary agitation, such lively grief. He
wished to know it, and to know it on the instant,
without dissimulation or concealment. His voice was
THE I.IBEKATKJ) PRISONER. 23S
at once suppliant and imperious He entreated and
insisted ; he wept and commanded. What could the
poor girl do? She was overcome by her own emo-
tion by the eagerness and impetuosity of Lautrec.
In her indignation and her amazement, incapable of
measuring her words or of foreseeing consequences, she
made imprudent disclosures, and Lautrec learned the
treachery of his uncle, or surmised it.
Overwhelmed with the intelligence, his mind be-
came deranged, and scarce a glimmering of reason
was left. He rushed away seized his arms fol-
lowed the traces of his uncle reached him at the
foot of the altar, and although robed in the vestments
of his exalted office, he struck him dead, and revenged
himself in his blood. From that time the dungeons
of Ham became the refuge of his madness and Ins
crime. Forty years had elapsed, when the Revolution
of 1789 took place, and he was liberated ; but forgot-
ten, and disavowed by his kindred, he had neither a
resting-place nor bread. The people of Ham took pity
on his condition, and committed him to the care of a
poor woman to provide for his wants. Her care was
not long needed, for he died in about three months"
afterward. He would probably have lived a longer
time had not liberty, a stranger so completely un-
Known, come unexpectedly upon him, to derange and
alter all the melancholy habits of his life.
At the commencement of his sojourn in the citadel
of Ham, Louis Napoleon occupied the rooms which
nad been appropriated to Polignac, the minister ot
Charles X. These apartments were in a complete
state of dilapidation., and comfort was as carefully
234 LOUIS NA.POLEOH.
excluded from this melancholy abode as light itself
No person was permitted to visit him, on any pretense,
without a letter from the government at Paris, coun-
tersigned by the principal magistrate of Ham. His
only servant, who had voluntarily entered the fortress
with his master, was not allowed to leave it even to
purchase articles for his subsistence or health. For
some mouths Louis Napoleon patiently endured this
rigor, and the privations of his daily allowance from
the government of only a dollar and a quarter of our
money : but in May, 1841, he addressed a protest from
the citadel of Ham, complaining that in his person the
usages of all nations, in the treatment* of political
offenders, were outrageously violated. The prisoner
insisted that he was the son of a king, and allied to
nil the sovereigns in Europe ; and that he derived his
honors from the same source as Louis Philippe his
throne the sovereignty of the people; he referred to
the fortitude with which he had borne twenty-seven
years of proscription and exile, and complained that
ne was treated like an excommunicated person of the
thirteenth century ; that he was not allowed, in his let-
ters to his friends, to describe his condition ; that a
civility from the attendants in the prison was punished
as a crime ; and that he was exposed to numerous
vexations that were not necessary for his safe custody.
In this expostulation, in which Louis Napoleon as-
sumed the air of a martyr, he evidently had the
advantage of the government, who, either yielding to
the justice of his logic, or fearing to be accused of
wanton inhumanity by their opponents, relaxed thf
detestable severity of his bondage. The condition of
PRISON OCCUPATIONS. 235
the captive was henceforth materially improved, and
though he still inhabited the dilapidated chambers
that had been occupied by the infamous minister of
Charles X., his valet, Charles Thelin, was allowed free
egress to the town, and upon the failure of his health
Louis Napoleon was permitted horse exercise within
the limits of the yard. Jailers are proverbial reflectors
of the powers they serve, and the commandant of the
citadel now frequently, alter shutting up the prison,
retired to the prisoner's room to pass the evening
at whist
Louis Napoleon pag^u a large portion of his time
m intellectual pursuits. He rose early, and wrote until
oreakfast, at ten. He then walked on the ramparts, or
cultivated a few favorite flowers. The remainder of
the day was occupied in various studies. His evening-
were passed in the society of his fellow-prisoner, Gen-
eral Montholon, or with the commandant. After his
indignant protest in regard to hia treatment, he wa-
allowed to receive visitors, and many eminent men
went to see the distinguished prisoner. His corre-
spondence was quite extensive. In one of his letter-
(to Lady Blessington) this remarkable passage occurs
"1 have no desire to quit the spot where I now am, t'-r
here I am in my proper place. With the name I hear
I must either be in the seclusion of a dungeon, or in
the brightness of power!" He corresponded with
Arago, the astronomer, on scientific subjects, and \vitti
Sismondi, the historian, in regard to writing a life f
Charlemagne.
Besides liu works on the Swiss Confederation and
on Artillery, Louis Napoleon, previous to his attemut
236 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
at Strasbourg, had published a volume of "Polities
Reflections," in which he seems to have endeavored to
elaborate a theory of government embodying the idea
of Lafayette in regard to "a monarchy surrounded by
republican in.-titutions." And on the eve of his rev-
olutionary movement at Boulogne, he issued another
work entitled, "Ide'es Napoleoniennes," in "which he not
only explained his own views on many political topics,
but those als.o of his illustrious uncle. In this produc-
tion there is the same commingling of republican and
monarchical principles as in its predecessor.
Endowed with much activity of mind, and an in-
satiable ambition, the Prince gave up his time, while
in prison, to the composition of several works. His
literary pursuits not only afforded him occupation, but
they brought him much applause and served to keep
the public attention fixed upon him.
Shortly after the incarceration of Louis Napoleon in
the citadel of Ham, the question whether the govern-
ment should more effectually encourage the manufac-
ture of beet-root sugar was discussed with great
animation throughout France. The manufacture of
beet-root sugar, factitiously created and supported by
a high protective tariff, was one of the Emperor Na-
poleon's schemes for interrupting the ordinary course
of commerce, and was adopted more especially with a
view to the injury of England, from whom the French
had obtained their sugar. It was natural, therefore,
that the heir to the empire should think it his duty to
adopt the prejudices and animosities of his uncle, and
to advocate the policy bequeathed to France by the
Emperor. The Prince's pamphlet had g-at success
LITERARY LABuKS OF i.oUIS NAPOLtXOs . 237
The committee representing the interests of the sugar
manufacturers, who were engaged in urging upon the
government the necessity of protecting their industry,
and who rejected the idea of a proposed compensation
for the suppression of their trade, were about to draw
np a paper to lay before the government and the
Chambers, with a view to convince both of the ad-
vantages of preparing sugar from beet-root, and of the
rights and claims of the manufacturers to protection.
This committee, having been informed of the existence
of a pamphlet on this question, published by the pris-
oner of Ham, found, on examination, that the Prince's
paper presented the merits of the question in a manner
BO clear and concise, that they relinquished the idea of
any other publication. They found their ow*n ideas
completely and admirably stated. In consequence of
this opinion, the committee requested the author to
place 3,000 copies at the disposal of the society, to
distribute them among the members of the government,
and other parties interested.
" In misfortune it is natural to think of those who
suffer," said Louis Napoleon, in the preface of a work
on the "Extinction of Pauperism," which he published
in 1844. It was certainly magnanimous, and highly
honorable to the Prince, that in the midst of the annoy-
ances and sufferings of captivity, he should occupy his
thoughts with studying the best means for either reme-
dying or mitigating the evils which afflicted many of
his fellow-countrymen.
The political economists of Europe seem to regard
pauperism as a necessary evil, and affirm that all
society can or ought to do is to repress it, for thej
238 LOUIS NAPOLBOS.
consider its extinction to be impossible. They would
suppress mendicity by punishing paupers almost as if
they were robbers, without even thinking of the possi-
bility of bringing about a condition of things in which
there need be no mendicant, by making a place for
all 'at the social banquet which God has spread for hip
whole people, as he has made the sun to shine upon all.
Although not directly avowed, nor perhaps wholly
intended, the policy of the European governments
toward paupers seems to be founded, in a great de-
gree, upon the principle that pauperism, although
unavoidable, is still criminal, and that it should be
punished, rather than that its miseries should be miti-
gated. A Scotch economist, a few years ago, pub-
lished a pamphlet in which he maintained that the
most efficacious means of diminishing it would be to
give no relief to paupers. They will die, said he, and
their attenuated carcasses, in the streets and highways,
will be a warning to all those who have not been
careful to provide some resource against age and
misfortune, in their days of health and activity!
However impracticable may have been the scheme
of Louis Napoleon, he seems to have been impelled by
the sacred injunction "Thou shalt open thine hand
wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy,
in thy land." His plan for the aid of the poor, con-
sisted, chiefly, in the adoption of means to bring into
use the immense extent of uncultivated or neglected
lands, yet lying waste in France, without yielding any
profit either to the masses or to individuals. He pro-
posed that the government should form, on these lands,
agri cultural colonies of unemployed laborers, and thufl|
THE NICARAGUA SHIP OAHAL. 239
while giving them employment, enrich the state. In
the course of his work the following language occurs :
"The reign af caste is finished : there is no way
of government except through the masses ; while gov-
ernment must be according to their will, it becomes
the more necessary that they be so disciplined, that
they may be directed and enlightened as to their true
interests. Government can no longer be carried on by
force and violence ; the people must be led toward
something better, through appeals to their reason and
their hearts. But as the masses require to be taught
and made moral, and as authority requires on its side
to be kept within bounds, and to be itself enlightened
apon the interests of the greatest number, two move-
ments become, as of necessity, of equal force : action
of power on the mass, and the reaction of the mass on
power."
Louis Napoleon also beguiled the tedium of prison
life by the composition of various other works, chiefly
relating to the Emperor, or in explanation of his own
views of government. His attention was so absorbed
by these literary pursuits, that it was only when they
were interrupted, that he remembered that he was
confined within the walls of a prison, and that he waa
surrounded by vigilant jailers.
In the year 1844, while thus engaged, the states of
Guatimala, St. Salvador and Honduras, sent an agent
to Louis Napoleon, requesting him, if his liberation
could be procured, to go to Central America, and take
charge of the construction of a ship-canal near the
isthmus of Panama, to connect the Atlantic and Pacific
^ceans. The negotiations were continued until, early
240 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
in the year 1846, he was endowed with all the powers
necessary to organize a company in Europe, for the
accomplishment of that great enterprise. This canal,
which was to open a new channel for the commerce of
the world, was, in compliment to him, to be called the
" Canal Napoleon." The civil wars which were raging
in the various states of Central America, prevented
the feasibility of the great project, the completion of
which would have conferred imperishable renown upon
the name of Louis Napoleon, and the enterprise was
necessarily abandoned. In the unsettled state of af-
fairs, in the states interested in the canal, European
capitalists were unwilling to hazard the undertaking.
Toward the autumn of 1845, the Count of St. Leu,
(formerly King of Holland, and father of Louis Na-
poleon,) who had long been in declining health, found
his end approaching, and determined to make an earn-
est appeal to Louis Philippe's clemency, for permis-
sion to clasp his son once more in his arms before he
should die. Louis Napoleon also requested permission
to visit his dying father, and proposed, after perform-
ing the last sad offices to the corpse of his parent, to
return again to his prison. Through a technical objec-
tion this application was denied, and he was referred
10 the king. The Prince then addressed Louis Philippe
as follows :
" Fortress of Ham, January 14, 1846.
"SiKE, It is not without deep emotion that I ap-
proach your Majesty, and ask, as a favor, permission
to quit France, even for a short time. For five years
I have found, in breathing the air of my country, ample
compensation for the torments of captivity ; but my
father is now aged and infirm, and calls for my
LETTER OF mtKKft. $4
attestions and care. He lias applied to persons known
for their attachment to your Majesty, in order to obtain
tny liberation ; and it is my duty to do every thing
which depends upon me to meet his desires.
"The council of ministers has not felt itself compe-
tent to accede to the request which I made to be al-
lowed to go to Florence, engaging to return, and again
to become a prisoner, as soon as the government might
desire me to do so. 1 approach your majesty with con-
fidence, to make an appeal to your feeling of humanity,
and to renew my request by submitting it to your high
and generous interference.
" Your Majesty will, I am convinced, appreciate a
step which, beforehand, engages my gratitude, and,
affected by the isolated position in a foreign land of a
man who, upon a throne, gained the esteem of Europe,
will accede to the wishes of my father and myself.
"I beg your Majesty to receive the expressions of my
profound respect.
"NAPOLEON Louis BONAPARTE."
FTe also wrote numerous letters to ministers, cour-
tiers, and persons of influence, and received, among
others, the following in reply from M. Thiers :
, I have received the letter which you
have done me the honor to address to me, in order to
make me acquainted with the refusal which has been
given to your request. It seems to me, that the desire
of seeing a dying father, accompanied by the promise
f returning to prison on the first requisition of the
Minister of the Interior, ought to have been regarded
as sufficient. In my opinion, such a measure might
have been adopted without inconvenience, upon the
responsibility of the minister who had sanctioned it. I
am sorry, Prince, not to have it in my power to be of
any use to you whatever in these circumstances. I
luive no influence with the government, and publicity
would serve you little. On every occasion in which
I can possibly contribute to K< lace your misfortunes
16
242 TX)UI8
without contravening my duty, 1 ehaJl be happy fcc
have it in my power to give fresh proofs of my
sympathy with the glorious name which you bear.
" Accept, <fcc. " A. THTEKS."
During the course of the negotiations, he was in-
formed that the only condition upon which the gov-
ernment would sanction his release, was a positive
renunciation on hig part, of all right to the throne of
France, and a written pledge never again to make war
against the dynasty of Louis Philippe. Such a pledge
be refused to give ; and, finding the negotiations for
his release to be hopeless, he determined to cut the
Gordian knot by making his escape, in disguise in
the disguise of an honest workman. This project he
carried into effect very cleverly, on Monday, May 25,
1846, by the aid of his faithful friend, Dr. Conneau,
and his valet, Thelin. The Prince gives the following
account of the proceeding, so far as he was concerned,
in a letter, addressed to M. de George, the editor of
a paper, for which he had often written while in
confinement :
"MY DEAR M. DE GEORGE, My desire to see my
father once more in this world, made me attempt the
boldest enterprise I ever engaged in. It required more
resolution and courage on my part than at Strasbourg
and Boulogne, for I was determined not to submit to the
ridicule that attaches to those who are arrested escap-
ing under a disguise; and a failure I could not have
ondured. The following are the particulars of my
escape :
" You know that the fort was guarded by four hun-
dred men, who furnished daily sixty soldiers, placed as
sentries outside the walls. Moreover, the principal gate
of the prison was guarded by three jailers, two of
whom were constantly < n duty. It was necessary that
ESCAPE OF LuCTs nAPOLEON. 243
I should first elude their vigilance, afterward traverse
tLe inside court, before the windows of the command-
ant's residence; and arriving there, I should be obliged
to pass by a gate which was guarded^by soldiers.
" Not wishing to communicate my design to any one,
it was necessary to disguise myself. As several rooms
in the part of the building I occupied were undergoing
repairs, it was not difficult to assume the dress of a
workman. My good and faithful valet, Charles Thelin,
procured a smocK-frock and a pair of sabots, (wooden
shoes,) and, after shaving ofi' my moustaches, I took a
plank on ray shoulders.
"On Monday morning I saw the workmen enter,
at half-past eight o'clock. Charles took them some
drink, in order that I should not meet any of them on
my passage. He was also to call one of the gard-
iens (turnkeys,) while Dr. Conneau conversed with the
others. Nevertheless, I had scarcely got out of my
room before I was accosted by a workman, who took
me for one of his comrades, and, at the bottom of the
stairs 1 found myself in front of the keeper. Fortu-
nately, I placed the plank 1 was carrying before my
face, and succeeded in reaching the yard. Whenever
1 passed a sentinel, or any other person, I always kept
the plank before my face.
'"Passing before the first* sentinel, 1 let my pipe
all. and stopped' to pick up the bits. There I met
cho officer on duty, but, as he was reading a letter, he
did not pay attention to me. The soldiers at the
^nard-house appeared surprised at my dress, and a
drummer turned round several times to look at me. 1
next met some workmen, who looked very attentively
at me. I placed the plank before my face, but they
appeared to be so curious, that I thought I should
never escape them, until I heard them cry, 'Oh! it is
Bernafd!'
"Once outside, I walked quickly toward the road of
St. Quentin. Charles, who, the day betbre, liad en-
gaged a carriage, shortly overtook me, and we arrived
at St. Quentin. 1 passed through the town on foot,
after having thrown off my smock-frock. Charles
244 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
procured a post-chaise, under pretext of going to Cam
brai. We arrived, without meeting with any obstacles,
at Valenciennes, where I took the railway. I had
procured a Belgian passport, but nowhere was I asked
to show it.
" During my escape, Dr. Conneau, always so de
voted to me, remained in prison, and caused them to
believe I was ill, in order to give me time to reach the
frontier. It was necessary, before I could be per-
suaded to quit France, to be convinced that the gov-
ernment would never set me at liberty, unless I would
consent to dishonor myself. It was also a matter of
duty that I should exert all my powers to be able to
console my father in his old age.
u Adieu, my dear M. de George; although free, I
feel myself to be most unhappy. Receive the assur-
ance of my sincere friendship, and, if you are able,
endeavor to be useful to my kind Conneau.
"NAPOLEON Louis."
Dr. Conneau, whose five years of imprisonment had
at this time expired, was a free agent in the affair ;
and the noble disinterestedness of his character may
be judged of from the fact that, by aiding his patron's
escape, he placed himself again in the hands of the
law for an indefinite period. Dr. Conneau, then, to
whose affectionate devotion it is impossible to refuse a
tribute of admiration, gives the following account of
the Prince's escape, and of the anxious moments which
he, the doctor, passed during the after part of the day ;
when, instead of going away himself, as he was free to
do, he remained in the fortress, in order to conceal, by
every maneuver ingenuity could suggest, the fact of
the Prince's escape until the latest possible moment
At his trial for this offense, he said :
W I tried tr conceal the departure of the Prince, in
STRATAGEM OF DR. CONNEAU. 245
order to give him time to escape. 1 was anxious, if
fossible, in this way to gain at least twenty-four hours
first of all closed the door leading from the Prince's
chamber into the saloon. I kindled a strong fire, al-
though, in fact, the weather was extremely hot, to
countenance the supposition that the Prince was ill ;
with the same intent I put the coffee-pot on the fire.
and told the man-of-all-work that the Prince was indis-
posed. About eight o'clock, a packet of violet plants
arrived by the diligence. I told the keeper to fill some
pots with earth, and prevented him from entering the
Prince's saloon. About half-past eight o'clock the
man-of-all-work came and asked me where we would
breakfast. 'In my room,' I replied. 'I shall fetch the
large table,' he said. I answered, 'That is unnecessary ;
the General is ill, and will not breakfast with us.'
%4 My intention was, in this manner, to push off fur-
ther knowledge till the next day. I said the Prince
had taken medicine. It was absolutely necessary that
t should be taken accordingly I took it myself. I
intended to have given him a bath this was impossi-
ble, on account of the workmen. I then thought of an
emetic, and attempted myself to perform the conse-
quent functions; but that was impossible. I then took
some coffee and threw it into a pot of water, with some
crumbs of bread, and added nitric acid, which pro-
duced a very disagreeable smell ; so that our man-of-
all-work might be persuaded that the Prince was
really ill.
" About half-past twelve I saw the commandant for
the second time, and informed him that the Prince was
somewhat easier. The commandant looked at the
works, and offered to send me his servant, in conse-
quence of Thelin's absence. About one o'clock I told
Delaplace to come and make the Prince's bed. Every
time that I came out of the small saloon, in which the
Prince was supposed to be lying on a sofa, I pretended
to be speaking to him ; the man-of-all-work did not
hear me if his ears had been at all delicate, he would
have been able perfectly to hear me speaking.
"The day passed on rery well till a quarter paat
'246 LOUIS NAPOLEON.
seven o'clock. At this moment the commandant en
tered. with an air somewhat stern. 'The Prince is a
little better, Commandant.' 'If,' he exclaimed, 'the
Prince is still ill, I must speak to him I must speak
to the Prince!' I had prepared a large stuffed figure,
and laid it in the Prince's bed, with the head resting
upon the pillow. I called the Prince who, naturally
enough, inade no reply. I retired toward the com-
mandant, and indicated to him, by a sign, that the
Prince was asleep. This did not satisfy him. He sat
down in the saloon, saying, 'The Prince will not sleep
forever I will wait.'
''lie remarked to me, that the time of the arrival of
the diligence was passed, and expressed his wonder
that Thelin was not returned ; I explained to him that
he had taken a cabriolet. The drum heat, and the
commandant rose and said, 'The Prince has moved in
his bed ; he is waking up.'
"The commandant stretched his ear, but did not hear
him breathe. I did the same, and said, 'Let him sleep
on.' lie drew near the bed, and found a stuffed figure.
He immediately turned toward me and said, 'The
Prince is gone! At what hour?' 'At seven in the
morning.' ' Who were the persons on guard ? ' 'I know
nothing.' These were the only words which were
interchanged between us : the commandant left the
room."
A brief imprisonment of only three months was
imposed upon Dr. Conneau for his participation in the
escape of Louis Napoleon. Thelin, for some indis-
creet and not very respectful language respecting the
authorities, on his trial, was sentenced to six months
imprisonment. The commandant of the fortress was
acquitted. After arriving in London, the Prince wrote
to the French embassador in England, and to a member
of the British ministry, explaining his motives and
intentions. To the French embassador he said "Ir
DEATH OF THE COUNT ST. LKC 24
quitting my prison, I have not been actuated \>y anj
idea of renewing against the French government a wai
which lias been so disastrous to me, but only to be
enabled to visit my aged father." He requested the
embassador to inform the king of hid peaceable inten-
tions, and expressed the hope that this voluntary
assurance would hasten the liberation of those of his
friends who still remained in prison.
The immediate purpose of Louis Napoleon's escape
from prison to attend by the deathbed of his father
was not attained, for the Austrian embassador at Lon-
don, who was also the representative of Tuscany, where
the Count of St. Leu was residing, positively refused
to sign his passport. Application was then made to
Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, but he replied that
the influence of France compelled him to decline per-
mitting Louis Napoleon to visit his father. The Count
of St. Leu had been living, for some weeks, in the hope
of a* length dying in his son's arms. He survived,
only a short time, the intelligence that this consolation
was denied tc him. He dietf on the 25th of JnJy, 1846.
REVOLUTION OF 1848.
On Monday, February 21, 1848, it appeared to
every casual observer, that there existed in Euroj>o a
powerful kingdom called France. Its monarch sur-
rounded by an accomplished and numerous family;
supported by a vast army ; sustained by an almost
unanimous Chamber of Deputies ; possessing the cor-
dial attachment of the House of Peers ; having an
overwhelming force of friends among the moneyed
classes ; and with an electoral body, an immense ma-
jority of whom were enthusiastic adherents to his dy-
nasty, and his policy ; he seemed to be placed beyond
the reach of misfortune. The accidental whim of a mo-
ment, in the devolution ol" 1830, had made this man a
king. That .Revolution had been effected less by the
organized efforts of the republicans, than by the spon-
taneous indignation of the middle classes, at the des-
potic policy pursued by the government of Charles X.
The aristocracy were more powerful than the repub-
licans, and declared for another monarchy ; but to
appease the disappointment of the latter class, the
monarchy, it was said, should be one surrounded by
democratic institutions, and Louis Philippe was to be
a citizen-king! The republicans were never reconciled
to this defeat. They. anl the maj >nty c v the working
REVIEW OF LOUIS PHILIPPE'S RKIGS. 249
classes, had fought for a republic, and they looked
upon themselves as deceived, tricked and ignomini
ousl/ vanquished. But they were not disheartened.
After a few unorganized attempts at revolution, they
gave up, for the time, the system of insurrectionary
movements, and determined to adhere to that far surer
instrument, the pen, which they relied on to ultimately
give them a complete victory. They wrote, talked,
and industriously spread their doctrines. They also
counted much on the errors of those in power. They
were confident that Louis Philippe, as soon as he
should feel himself secure on the throne, would labor
for his own aggrandizement, rather than for the welfare
of France, and that the unpopularity and hatred at-
tendant upon his administration would strengthen the
republican ranks. And they were right. While the
spirit of insurrection was yet alive, Louis Philippe
aimed at conciliating the republicans ; but no sooner
was this crushed, than he exhibited the same tenden-
cies that had characterized the Bourbon dynasty. His
policy was then to turn back the tide of democracy,
and firmly seat his heirs on the throne of France.
His first step was to separate from the republicans who
had been the instruments of his elevation. Some he
treated coldly ; he dismissed others from office. With
the good Lafayette he provoked an unwarrantable
quarrel
The strength thus lost he endeavored to replace by
the actual purchase of new adherents. All the arts of
corruption were put in practice. Some persons, less
scrupulous than ambitious, rushed forward and met
bribery half way others, who held out tor a time.
250 THE REVOLUTION OF 184. f
were finally swept along by the current. Every -man
of literary reputation, who would sell himself to the
government, was gorged with offices and loaded with
honorary decorations. Every rising young man, of
the least promise, was lured to the same dishonorable
distinction. Those only could resist the seduction
whose virtue was superior to their eagerness for ad-
vancement. The deplorable effect of this policy waa
soon evinced by the profligate immorality which was
rapidly spreading among the ablest and most accom-
plished young men of France. The examples of ser-
vility, baseness and cupidity, shamelessly exhibited
in high places, were followed with frightful rapidity
among all classes of society. It was notorious in
France, that every electoral body, however small
with rare exceptions left wholly uninfluenced, would
elect mn of liberal views, and favorable to the gradual
progress of reform. But reform was not in accordance
with the views of Louis Philippe. With an aristoc-
racy of electors there being less than 250,000 voters,
out of more than 5,000,000 adult males Louis Philippe
and his partisans found it necessary to resort to bribery
fo obtain the support of these constituencies. Thero
svere more than 400,000 offices, great and small, at the
disposal of the government. These, with grants of
Almost innumerable privileges, loans, and the direct
purchase of votes, enabled the government to insure
ro itself a majority in the Chamber of Deputies. In
the Chambers, out of four hundred and fifty members,
two hundred held profitable places under government,
and were, of course, always subservient to the wishet
at the king.
OF LOUIS PHIIJ1 PK. 251
The life of Louis Philippe was one of cold and un-
duviating selfishness. His administration was one long
.ntrigue for the advancement of his family and him-
self; arid sometimes, as in the case of the marriage of
the Duke of Montpensier with the sister of the Spanish
queen, the trickery was so obvious, and the breach of
faith so gross, that his majesty could scarcely be said
to appear in the light of an honorable statesman. He
met with the usual luck of the crafty, and it is now
apparent that he overreached himself; for he forfeited
the good will of England, and the respect of his own
Bubjects, and thus weakened the moral basis of his
dynasty, without at all increasing its material sup
norts. During a reign of seventeen years, in which,
.n spite of constitutional restrictions, his real authority
and influence were immense, he did little for his coun-
try, little for the moral and intellectual elevation of
the people, and nothing for the gradual improvement
of the political institutions of the kingdom. His time
and attention were absorbed in seeking splendid for-
eign alliances for his children ; in maneuvering to
obtain a pliant majority in the Chambers ; and in
endeavors to keep those ministers at the head of afi'aire
who would second most heartily his private designs.
In favor of Louis Philippe it may be said, that he
was unwilling to shed blood even for the gravest
political crimes, and that he was sincerely desirous of
maintaining the peace of Europe. Credit for these
virtues are due to him, though both tended to the
security of his throne. Prosperity is always attendant
upon peace, and during the reign of Louis Philippe.
France was eminently prosperous. The condition of
252 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
all classes of its population greatly improved. At
peace with the whole civilized world, its commerce
and manufactures were flourishing; its peasantry
comfortable and unusually contented ; and although
taxation was enormous, it was equally distributed, no
class being exempted from its pressure, but all shar-
ing the burden alike. All were equal before the law,
and toleration of opinion, in politics or religion, wae
complete.
But the prosperity of the country finally met a check
in the frightful increase of taxation. In 1847, the taxes
amounted to $300,000,000. This amount had been
swelled by the system of creating numerous unneces-
sary offices to buy votes, but it was mostly attributable
in the people themselves. The war in Algiers, which
was solely a sacrifice to the popular appetite for mili-
tary glory and foreign possessions, constituted a con-
tinual and prodigious drain upon the treasury. Louis
Philippe dared not abandon his costly and unprofit-
able possession in Africa. The people would not hear
of it ; and so an army of a hundred thousand men
was maintained there, to wage an inglorious war with
a few Arabs, and to make useless expeditions into the
desert.
For some years, the subject of electoral reform had
reen agitated among the people. Scarcely one in forty
of the adult male population of France were voters.
In the session of the Chambers for 1846, when allusion
was made to this topic by some of the deputies, Guizot
cauntingly told them that the people did not desire
such a reform, as no petitions for it had been presented.
As avowed political meetings were prohibited because
THE REFORM BANQUETS. 253
they had been so often made a cloak for insurrections,
the people prepared to hold a series of banquets in
different parts of the country, at which the toasts and
speeches should bear entirely on the question of the
extension of the elective franchise. This scheme was
carried into effect. During the summer of 1847,
seventy banquets were held in various parts of the
country, attended by large numbers of electors. They
all passed off quietly, but they gave evidence that pub-
lic opinion was strongly in favor of leform. At some
of these banquets, the usual toast of "the King" was
omitted, and one in favor of universal suffrage and the
unlimited liberty of the press was substituted. About
the middle of September, the journeymen printers of
Paris made the usual arrangements to celebrate their
annual dinner. For several years, not the slightest
opposition had been offered to their so doing, particu-
larly as the banquet was of a social and private char
actor, wholly unconnected with politics. But already
had ministers and their friends entered upon the false
and fatal path which led them to destruction. The
banquet was to have taken place at a restaurant. Just
as the body of workmen were about to sit down, a
commissary of police ordered them to disperse. Being
backed, as the man in office was, by municipal guards
and soldiers, the artisans, after protest, obeyed ; but
determined not to be balked of their feast, demanded
permission of a printer, know?) for his liberal opinions,
to meet on his private premises, outside the town.
The printer acceded, and as the law distinctly allows
meetings in a private house, <>n riie proprietor's own
responsibility, no fear w,-i- : frit for the result But,
254 THE REVOLUTION OF IMS.
with the idea which now actuated the prefect of police,
guided, as he was, by the cabinet, legality was of little
moment. Scarcely had the printers re-assembled at
the house which had been generously placed at their
disposal, ere some hundreds of soldiers, municipal
guards, and a commissary of police, presented them
selves anew, entered the printer's house, and forcibly
dispersed the assembly. Other assemblies were dis-
solved in the same arbitrary and illegal manner.
The king's speech, at the opening of the Chambers,
December 28, 1847, closed with a contemptuous allu-
sion to these banquets. On the 19th of the following
January, the address of the Peers, in reply to the
king's speech, was carried by a large majority. One
of the paragraphs of the address was directed against
the reform banquets. " Noisy manifestations, (said the
Peers,) in which are blindly mingled vague ideas of
reform and of progress, passions hostile to our mon-
archical constitution, opinions subversive of soci ..!
order, and detestable reminiscences, have rather <i;-
quieted than convinced men." During the debates
this address, in the Chamber of Deputies, petitiui:-
wi're presented for electoral and parliamentary reform.
The severe allusion to these banquets in the king's
speech, and the great majority which supported the
address that echoed this condemnation of them, in-
rjeased the fury of the opposition, as it was clear that
ihe ministry were firm, and that there was no chance
of unseating them by parliamentary weapons alone.
They resolved, therefore, though with hesitation and
many misgivings, to agitate the people still further
Hitherto, the banquets had been held only in the
REFORM BAJSQUKT IN 1'AKIS. 255
provinces, and after all the inflammatory speeches that
had been made at them, not more than 200,000 per-
sons, out of a population of more than 3^,000,000, had
been induced to petition for reform. But the Parisians
were more excitable and dangerous, and so it was de-
termined to hold a monster banquet in the capital, to
be preceded by a grand procession, a measure which
was almost sure to bring the republicans into open
revolt. The mere announcement of a great popular
demonstration was enough to cause the desperate re-
publicans to furbish up their arms, and concert all the
measures necessary for the overthrow of the monarchy.
The ministers expressed their intention of suppressing
the banquet. They even declared that there should be
no reform. Guizot, the prime minister, emphatically
repeated his determination to put down all public
demonstrations of opinion, in the shape of reform ban-
quets. The friends of the measure met this declaration
by expressing their determination to attend the ban-
quet which had already been announced, and defying
the minister to make good his threat no law existing
against a public meeting for any peaceable and consti-
tutional object. The conduct of the minister was inju-
dicious in the extreme. He had committed himself to
a course, the tendency of which was utterly destructive
>f public liberty. Its illegality was obvious, but illegal
ur not, it became the duty of every man not in favor
of absolutism, to make a stand against such an insuf-
ferable assumption of authority. To yield would have
been to tamely bare the neck to the yoke of despotism,
and to see the last vestiges of freedom trodden under
foot. To try the question, it was decided that the
256 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
reform banquet, which had been postponed from tira
to time, waiting the course of events, should take a
more in.. posing form, to which the independent mem-
bers of both Chambers, and the public generally,
should be invited. The object being a pacific demon-
stration of opinion, it was arranged, that to avoid all
danger of collision with the authorities, the banquet
should not be held in Paris itself, but in the suburbs ;
and to place the legality of the meeting beyond all
doubt, by giving it as much as possible the character
of a private party, the number of guests was limited
to 1500, and no person not invited was to be admitted.
Nearly one hundred Deputies, and a few members of
the Chamber of Peers, signified their intention to be
present.
The day fixed for the banquet was Tuesday, Febru-
ary 22, 1848, and it was not until Monday the day
preceding that the government finally determined
to attempt its suppression. The first plan of Guizot
was to allow the banquet to proceed, under protest
A civil officer was to be sent to verify the fact of the
meeting, and afterward a crown prosecution was to be
commenced against its originators; but on Monday the
court took ofiense or alarm at an advertisement and
programme, which appeared in the opposition journals,
of a contemplated procession to the place of meeting ;
to consist of the guests invited to the banquet, officers,
and soldiers of the National Guards corresponding
very nearly to the militia of our own country with
students and others, who were expected to act as an
escort. They were to be so marshaled that the Na-
tional Guards, though without arms, should appear to
REFORM BANQUET FORBIDDEN. 25?
surround and escort the other portions of the assem-
blage. The plan was a very skillful one, for the gov-
ernment dared not provoke any collision of the troops
of the line with the National Guards, who were in fact
the chief support of the monarchy ; and though but a
small portion of this civic militia would probably obey
such an irregular summons, a few of them skillfully
distributed around the procession, would effectually
shield it from any attack by the regular soldiery.
Monday evening arrived. The public places were
all filled with anxious crowds. The evening papers
were looked for, half in terror, half in hope. Knots of
men, of all classes, conversed in under tones, while
others read aloud extracts from the papers, by torch
light. Between nine and ten o'clock, when, of course
it was too late to prevent the assembling of crowds
the next day to witness the procession, the banquet
having been the sole theme of conversation for a fort-
night previous, proclamations were posted about the
streets by the police, announcing that no banquet or
procession would be permitted, and cautioning the
public against tumultuous assemblages in the streets.
Wherever these documents were seen, the people col-
lected around while one man would read their con-
tents to the excited populace. They were then torn
down and trampled under foot. Several republicans
moved silently from group to group, sounding the
disposition of the people, who, artizans, Shopkeepers,
professional men, all showed but one desire that of
resistance. In restaurants, in reading rooms, the prol>
able results of a struggle were calculated, and some
asserted, with confidence, that the troops were wel.
11
TITK REVOLUTION OF
disposed toward the people. Many a student, many an
artisan, many an enthusiastic republican, passed the
night in cleaning his arms and making ball cartridges
preparing for an emergency. That evening, the tntiut-
which left Paris were unusually full ; the more foresee-
ing and cautious among foreigners and rich citizens,
started to leave the country, or seek refuge in theii
country-houses. Amid moderate men, who wished
well to the dynasty, and even to the cabinet, if they
would but make concession to the voice of public
opinion, stupefaction, terror and sorrow were the
paramount feelings.
A wide difference of opinion arose among the ban
quet committee in regard to obeying the proclama
tions. A minority were inclined to form the procession
at all hazards ; but it was finally agreed that the meet-
ing should be given up thut the public should be
urged to maintain a peaceable attitude, so as to put
the government wholly in the wrong and that the
late discussion of the question in the Chambers should
be renewed in a form that would lead either to a dis-
solution, and then bring it before the electors, or to a
change of the cabinet. Articles of impeachment were
therefore to be moved against the ministry. It wac
not expected that these would be carried, but they
would suffice to create an agitation that would force
the government to give way ; or, failing to do so, the
opposition, by resigning in a body, had the power in
their hands of an appeal to the people.
In the morning, a formal announcement that the
oanqnet was deferred, appeared in the papers, and the
government having been assured that no attempt would
THE PEOPLE IN THE STREETS. 2.59
De made to form a procession, the orders that had been
given to the troops of the line to occupy the ground
and all the avenues leading to the place of meeting.
were countermanded. Picquets, only, were stationcu
in places where crowds might be expected to assemble,
sufficient, it was presumed, to disperse a mob ; but no
serious disturbance was anticipated, either by the
ministry or its opponents. The proclamations of the
government, however, and the announcement 'of the
opposition journals, came too late. They had not been
read by the multitudes of the working class, who had
previously prepared for a holiday, and who, even if
they had read the notices, were little inclined to be
deprived of their anticipated enjoyment. The major-
ity of these might be peaceably disposed, but their
presence in the streets was necessarily calculated to
render formidable the smaller number bent upon
mischief, if an opportunity should arise.
The morning of the 22d of February was wet and
gloomy, but the streets were crowded from an early
hour. Crowds of people began to move toward the
Madeleine church, in front of which the procession was
to have been formed. Many were not aware that the
banquet was given up, and went to witness the parade,
while those who knew that the' intention o f holding the
meeting had been abandoned, went with a vague desire
to see what would happen. Others, doubtless, wunt
with a settled determination to provoke an insurrec-
tion. About midday a crowd surrounded the Cham-
ber of Deputies, which was soon protected against any
risk of attack. Some of the windows of the residence
of the minister of toroigii affairs were broken, and
260 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
" Down with Guizot," was the cry ; but in a short time
the house was surrounded with troops. The crowd
and agitation went on increasing, and in some parts
of the city the shops were closed. The multitude
around the Madeleine church became formidable in
numbers, though no symptoms of disorder or violence
were manifested. In fact, with few exceptions, the
crowd, amid whom were many well dressed ladies and
gentlemen, were excessively good humored. The ma-
jority seemed persuaded that the vast display of un-
armed Parisians, who had turned out, would induce
the minority to give way. Whatever disturbances
arose, were the result of the confusion and injuries
inflicted by dense masses of people moving impulsively
to and fro, as they were impelled by noises or rumors
from various portions of the city. Toward the close
of the day the excitement grew more intense. In some
oases where the crowds could not, or did not, disperse
at the command of the military, violence was commit-
ted to enforce obedience. The aspect of the masses,
who moved away telling what they had seen, wae
threatening. Consternation sat on the faces of the
timid anger and bitterness on those of the resolute.
A few barricades were erected in the streets. In the
evening the disturbances were increased. Additional
barricades were erected. Coaches and whatever else
the multitude could most readily seize, were used for
this purpose. The drivers, when their vehicles were
seized, led away their horses, in many instances laugh-
ing. ' We cannot carry you, (said one to a gentleman,)
our carriages are hired by the nation! " Gunsmiths'
ahopfl were broken open and their COT. tents seized ; the
THE PEOPLE ASSEMBLE. $61
lamps we^e extinguished ; and anxiety for the result
of the sanguinary contest on the morrow, which had
become inevitable, spread through the whole of Paris.
The court party alone were without apprehension.
Although slumbering on the edge of a volcano, they
appeared unconscious of danger. Eighty thousand
troops of the line had been concentrated in or near
Paris. The city was surrounded with forts, to which
the troops could retire in case of need, and by which
all the principal roads of the metropolis could be
commanded. A portion of the National Guard were
known to be disaffected, but the general body, it was
believed, being composed of the middle classes, who
had something to lose, were disposed to assist in tho
suppression of any riotous demonstrations, that might
directly or indirectly affect property; and of the readi-
ness of the municipal guard, or armed police to sup-
port the government, no doubt was entertained. The
worst that was apprehended was the loss of a few lives,
and possibly the sacrifice of Guizot and the elevation
of Thiers, his rival.
On Wednesday morning, the 23d, crowds began to
assemble at an early hour around the barricades that
had been erected during the night. These barricades
*-ere attacked and partially destroyed by the munici-
pal guards or the regular troops. The morning passed
in skirmishes, in which some were killed, and success
was generally on the side of the authorities. Thr
people, however, when dispersed in one place, assem
bled instantly in another, and rapidly increased in
numbers. The National Guard were called out in the
hope that they would aid in the suppression of the
X 7
THE .REVOLUTION OF 1848.
disturbance, and use their influence with the people to
prevent the further effusion of blood. But when they
appeared in the streets, although they at first wavered
as to the course they should follow, it soon became
evident they would yield to the contagion of popular
enthusiasm, and act with, rather than against the
movement. Many uttered the popular watchwords
for reform, and deputations were sent in from several
of the legions, asking for the dismissal of Guizot.
Louis Philippe's heart failed him, and early in the
afternoon he announced the appointment of M. Mole,
as the successor of Guizot. Mole for Guizot appeared
to the people to be a trick to deceive them. It is in-
comprehensible, had not the whole conduct of Louis
Philippe been that of one bewildered by events, how
he could have supposed that this would satisfy the
people. He does not seem to have appreciated the
extent of the danger. The impression on his own
mind, and that of his family, was, that there was
nothing serious. Thiers apparently thought other-
wise, and had a long interview with the Duchess of
Orleans, in regard to the affair. The officers who
visited the various parts of the city, increased the fan-
cied security of the royal family, by reporting that
there was no likelihood of an insurrection. At the
ame time they assured the king that the plans ai-
ranged to suppress any revolutionary movement were
such that no fear could be entertained of the result.
About ten o'clock on Wednesday evening, occurred
the decisive incident that determined the fate of Louis
Philippe's dynasty. All the streets were brilliantly
illuminated, and every where immense numbers of
SLAUGHTER OK THE PEOPLE. 263
promenaders, men, women and children, were out en-
joying the scene, and rejoicing that the terrible strug-
gle of the day had ceased. Processions of workmen
and students paraded the streets, celebrating the
downfall of Guizot. The house of the deposed minister
was protected by a large force of the military. As
one of the bodies of workmen was marching through
the street near his house, they were suddenly fired
upon by the troops. The order to fire was the result
of a mistake. The scene which followed was awful.
Thousands of men, women, children, shrieking, bawl-
ing, raving, were seen flying in all directions, while
sixty-two men, women and lads, belonging to every
class of society, lay weltering in their blood upon the
pavement. Next minute an awful roar, the first breath
of the popular indignation, was heard, and then away
flew the students, artisans, the shopkeepers, all, to
carry the news to the most distant parts of the city,
and to rouse the population to arms against a govern-
ment, whose satellites murdered the people in this
atrocious manner. A squadron of horsemen now
charged, sword in hand, over dead and wounded, amid
useless cries of " Mind the fallen," and drove the peo-
ple before them. The sight was appalling. Husbands
were seen dragging their fainting wives from the scene
of massacre ; fathers snatching up their children, with
pale faces and clenched^ teeth, hurried away to put their
voting ones in safety, and then to come out in arms
against the monarchy. Women clung to railings,
*ees, or to the wall, or fell fainting on the stones.
In two hours the terrible news was known all over
Paris. During the night 3000 persons arrived by a
284 THE REVOTATTTOTSr OF 1848.
monster train from Rouen, with arms and artillery.
All thoughts of slumber were abandoned. Groups
stood at the corners of the streets. Everywhere barri-
cades arose as if by magic. All night the population
labored, and the number of persons so engaged may
be conceived, when it is stated, that upward of two
thousand barricades of the most formidable character
were erected. Not less than one hundred and fifty
thousand men some of them National Guards
passed that night in fortifying themselves behind al-
most impregnable ramparts, which would have cost
many thousand lives to have carried, had the troops
remained faithful to the government.
The king at last became alarmed. Late at night he
became convinced that a better guarantee of reform
was required than a cabinet formed by a persona*
friend of the king, and in which the views of the court
party would necessarily retain the ascendancy. Thiers
and Odilon Barrot, the leaders of the two sections of
the opposition, were sent for to form a ministry. Six
hours earlier and the announcement of this fact would
probably have satisfied the people and prevented fur-
ther tumult. Now it came too late. The demand for
reform had been converted by exasperation into a
settled purpose of revolution, and the same spirit was
likely to extend to the provinces. During the night
the departure of the mails had been prevented, and
the railways around Paris had been damaged or de-
stroyed, at every point at which troops might be
expected to arrive.
At six on the morning of Thursday, the 24th, Paris
was covered with barricades, on which floated the
SACKING OF THE PALAIS BOYAL. $05
tri color, (the flag adopted by the revolutionary party
of Europe.) Behind the barricades stood resolute men,
armed with muskets, swords, pistols and pikes. The
tocsin rung the signal for battle, and the fight began
between the people and the soldiers of the line. But
the troops were ill-disposed to shed the blood of their
brethren. At ten, one of the regiments joined the peo-
ple. Just at this time a proclamation signed by Thiers
and Barrot was distributed through the street. It an-
nounced that orders were given the troops to suspend
ihe firing ; that Thiers and Barrot were empowered by
the king to form a ministry ; that the Chambers would
be dissolved; and that General Lamoriciere was named
Commander-in-chief of the National Guard. The com-
mand had previously been given to Marshal Bugeaud,
who, beside being unpopular with the people, was in
favor of energetic measures against the insurrection.
The proclamation announcing the advent of a new
ministry was torn in pieces. The tide of insurrection
was flowing rapidly, irresistibly, toward the Tuileries,
the king's residence. About noon, the people, headed
by numerous detachments of the National Guard, at-
tacked the Palais Royal, took it and sacked the royal
apartments. The noise penetrated the apartments of
the Tuileries. Louis Philippe saw that it was useless
longer to brave the storm that gathered over his head.
Tut one hope was left. He might abdicate in favor of
Lis grandson, the Count of Paris, and the heir to the
throne. The queen only, of all present, resisted this
proposition. She clung to the king and entreated him
fcc be firm, to battle against the people. He pmtly
her aside and wrote "I lay down tho crown
12
266 THE BEVOLUTION OI 1848.
whicfc the will of the nation bestowed on me in July,
1830. I abdicate in favor of my beloved grandson, the
Count of Paris." Immediately the king and royal fam-
ily left the palace, and sought safety in flight. As they
departed, the people arrived. The former occupants left
so hastily that they had not even breakfasted. The
new comers made merry with the adventure, and some
sat down to eat the breakfast prepared for the fugitive
king. A lad ascended the throne, turned round to the
people, and putting his hand on his heart, said, in
royal phrase "Messieurs, it is always with the great-
est pleasure that I see myaelf surrounded by my peo-
ple ! " The throne was then carried out into the streets
and burned.
The Chamber of Deputies met in the afternoon.
The Duchess of Orleans, accompanied by the Duke of
Nemours, entered, leading her two sons. The abdica-
tion of Louis Philippe, the transfer of royal power to
the young Count of Paris, and the appointment of the
Duchess of Orleans to the regency, were announced.
It was moved that an entry should be made in the
journals, of the acclamation which had accompanied
to the Chamber, and greeted on their arrival, the Count
of Paris as King of France, and the Duchess of Or-
leans as regent, under the protection of the national
wishes. M. Sauzet, the president, said, that the Cham-
ber, by its unanimous acclamations, Here he was
interrupted on the right and on the left, by the specta-
tors. All was confusion. Lamartine moved that the
Bitting be suspended, out of respect to the national
representatives, and to *he presence of the Duchess of
Orleans. The president announced the suspension of
A KEPUBLJG DEMANDED. 2ti7
the sitting, until the Duchess of Orleans and the new
king retired After some hesitation, the duchess and
Aer children, with those around her, withdrew from
the room. Odilon Barrot exclaimed "Our duty is
clear : the crown of July rests on the head of a child
and of a woman : the regency of the Duchess of Or-
leans a ministry selected from among the men of the
most tried opinions, will give the best security for lib-
erty : he could not undertake the responsibility of any
thing else." A crowd of armed men, National Guards,
students, and workmen, broke into the Chamber, many
of them carrying banners. They loudly denounced a
restoration of the monarchy. They exclaimed that the
Count of Paris should not be proclaimed king. The
cry of many was for a republic. Voices were shout-
ing, " No more Bourbons ! " " Down with the trait-
ors ! " "A provisional government ! " Many of the
deputies retired. Ledru E-ollin obtained a hearing.
He declared that a regency was impossible. He said
that to proclaim the Count of Paris would be a new
usurpation. He called for a provisional government,
not named by the Chamber, but by the people ; and an
immediate appeal to a convention, to settle the righti
of the people. Lamartine also spoke. He advocated
a provisional government which should prejudge
nothing as to the ultimate form of government which
it should please the nation to adopt. Here a body of
people burst into the hall. Still, amid the confusion, a
list of names for the formation of a provisional govern-
ment was adopted. From the office of the Reforms
newspaper, the organ of tbe ultra republicans, another
list was sent out. By an arrangement, the two riral
bodies met at the Hdtel de Ville the government
office and agreed upon a compromise, at first by
choosing four of the newspaper set to be secretaries to
the other body, but a few days afterward by admitting
these four to full membership, the decrees being signed
by the whole number without distinction,
No sooner had the members of the provisional gov-
ernrrent been chosen, than began one of the most re-
markable councils ever held by any government. For
sixty hours the provisional executive of the nation sat
without abandoning their post, now writing decrees,
debating them, and sending them forth to the nation
oy the voice of the printing machine ; now rushing out
to do battle for their very existence, as new columns
upon columns of people thronged to demand nevr
concessions. Several times the government was on
.he eve of dissolution. One party demanded the red
flag. The majority knew that this was to sanctify the
triumph of anarchy. They resisted. The people
threatened to rush in and destroy the provisional gov-
ernment. Lamartine hastened out, and stood on the
stairs of the Hdtel de Ville ; but the excited people
brandishing their arms, refused to hear him. He pei
Bisted, and his voice at length drowned the tumult.
He was heard, and his effective eloquence brought the
people at once back to their senses. They then re-
turned to their duties, and before night, the following
proclamation was posted up in Paris, while rough
proof copies were flying to every part of the country
through the post. Though they have appeared largely
in the press, it is impossible to avoid giving here these
first acts of the government of the Revolution.
PBOOLAMATION TO THE PEOPLE. 269
PROCLAMATION OF THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT.
U TO THE FRENCH PEOPLE.
"A retrograde and oligarchical government has been
overthrown by the heroism of the people of Paris
Thifi government has fled, leaving behind it a track of
hlood which forbids its ever retracing its steps. The
blood of the people has been shed, as it was in July ;
but this time that generous blood shall not be shed in
vain. It has won a national and popular government
in accord with the rights, the progress, and the will of
this great and noble people. A provisional govern-
ment, arising from the urgent acclamations of the
voices of the people and the deputies from the depart-
ments in the sitting of February 24, is momentarily
invested with the charge of organizing and securing
the national victory.
" It is composed of Messrs. Dupont (de 1' Eure,) La-
martine, Cremieux, Arago (of the Institute,) Ledru-
Rollin, Gamier Pages, and Marie.
"The government has for its secretaries Messrs.
Armand-Marrast, Ferdinand Flocon, Louis Blanc, and
Albert.
" The citizens have not hesitated an instant to ac-
cept the patriotic mission which was imposed by the
urgency of the case.
" When blood has flowed, when the capital of
France is in flames, the mission of the provisional
government is public safety. All France will listen to
it, and lend it a patriotic concurrence. Under the
popular government which the provisional government
proclaims, every citizen is a magistrate.
"Frenchmen! give to the world the example which
Paris has given to France! Prepare yourselves, by
order and by confidence in one another, for those
strong institutions which you are called upon to form !
"The provisional government desires a republic,
but subject to the ratification of the French people,
who shall be immediately consulted.
" Unity of the nation ! formed henceforth of the
classes of which the nation is composed ; the govern-
ment of the nation by itself; 'liberty, equality, and
s
270 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
fraternity ' for principles ; ' the people' for a motto, and
the password of 'order!' Such is the democratic
government which France owes to herself, and which
shall have all our efforts for its establishment."
A position of greater responsibility, or one encom-
passed with more startling difficulties, than that to
which the members of the provisional government had
been chosen, can scarcely be conceived. France was
in a state of anarchy. It was without rulers and with-
out law. The Parisian people, the most excitable in
the world, and headed by violent, daring and reckless
leaders, were driven to the wildest excesses. To pre-
vent civil war and all the atrocities and sufferings that
were attendant upon the Revolution of 1798 to calm
the furious agitation to restore and preserve the
public tranquillity and to call a convention, through
which the will of the people could be ascertained, and
such institutions of state organized as the nation might
desire; this was the task which the provisional gov-
ernment had assumed, and well and gloriously, amid
the thousand obstacles and difficulties that beset them,
did they accomplish it.
But to Lamartine, the recognized leader and the
most active member of the provisional government, is
chiefly attributable the merit of having conducted
France through so stupendous a crisis, with so little of
outrage and so much of noble forbearance. During
the paroxysm of this great and wonderful change, La-
martine exceeded all the expectations formed of him
by his warmest friends, and won the admiration and
the enconiums of the world. His name will stand
on the page of history, among the greatest and noblest
LAMARTINE. 271
statesmen of the nineteenth century. "Wise, firm, be-
nevolent and disinterested, he resisted the rash claims
of the people, wkfle he advocated those that were just.
Alphonse de Lamartine was born at Macon, Octo-
ber 21, 1790. His family name was De Prat, but some
years ago he assumed that of his maternal uncle. His
fatlwr was major of a regiment of cavalry under Louis
XVL, and was imprisoned at the time of the overthrow
of his royal master. The boy who, more than fifty
years afterward, was to play so striking a part in a
great revolution, passed many months of his infancy
with his father while confined in prison. After the
reign of terror, the royalist major was released, and
passed the remainder of his days with his family at
Milly, an old chateau in Burgundy. From his child-
hood young Alphonse was remarkable for his preco-
cious intellect. Among the few habitual visitors at
the chateau, was the good priest of the neighboring
village, who, from his amiable temper and endearing
manners, was tn*e delight of all who came within the
sphere of his influence, and particularly of the young
folks at the chateau, who honored and revered him as
a father, without ceasing to love and cherish him as a
playmate and companion. On one occasion he had
called at the chateau in passing homeward from one
of his visitations of duty and benevolence, and nothing
could satisfy his young friends, who crowded round
him with welcomes and caresses, but his remaining to
dine and spend the rest of the day with them. The
lady of the chateau joined her solicitations to those of
her children, and the priest's inclinations strongly sec-
their wishes ; but l <there was a serious obstacle
272 THE REVOLUTION OF 184&
in the way. "It is Saturday, (said he,) and I've not
prepared a line of my to-morrow's sermon. And to
compose a good sermon, (added he, smiling,) is no
joke. It will take me all the rest of the day, and it
may be, an hour or two of the night." " Oh, if that 's
all, (cried Alphonse, who was then but twelve years of
age, and who had receded from the crowd of little
suitors around the priest, and was contemplating from
a window the scene without,) I'll write your sermon for
you, sir. I often write sermons, and preach them
too in my head ! "What shall the text be? " All pres-
ent, the priest included, greeted this half-serious, half-
jocular sally with good-humored smiles or laughter,
and the good man hself appeared tc yield to the
Argument for his stav aong them. Accordingly he
gave a text at random to the young aspirant for
preaching honors, and determined to borrow a few
hours from his pillow for the composition of his to-mor-
row's discourse. After dinner, Alphouse disappeared
from the family party ; but as this was the frequent
result of his contemplative habits, nobody took notice
of his absence till the priest was preparing for his early
departure in the evening when Alphonse made his
appearance with a roll of paper in his hand. " Here
is your sermon, sir," exclaimed he, with a smile of ex-
ultation on his beautiful and expressive countenance.
The priest, innocently humoring the joke, took the
scroll and opened it. "Well, (said he,) let us see
what this sermon of our young friend re made of.
Suppose we try a little of it upon the present audi-
ence;" and he proceeded to open and read it aloud.
He liad not read many lines, however, before his aspect
LAMABTINE AS A LEGISLATOK. 273
and manner became entirely changed li i word, the
child of twelve years of age had product! a compo-
sition of deep thought, fervid eloquence, and high
poetry, and the priest pronounced it at church the
next day to a delighted and admiring audience.
The early life of Lamartine was one of meditation
and of study, rather than of action. After his depar-
ture from college, he passed some time at Lyons, made
a brief excursion into Italy, and visited Paris during
the last days of the empire. He was already dream-
ing of literary, especially of dramatic, renown, and
was a favorite with Talma, the greatest of French tra-
gedians, who was pleased to hear him recite, with his
clear and melancholy voice, the unpublished fragment
of a tragedy on Saal. In 1820, the publication of a
volume of "Poetic Meditations," placed him in th
first rank of French poets. From that period he pub
lished many works, all of which were highly popular.
In 1824: he entered diplomatic life as secretary of the
legation at Florence. Afterward he went to London
in the same capacity, but was subsequently returned
to Tuscany as charg d'affaires. At London he mar-
ried a rich English heiress, by whom he had one
daughter. After the Revolution of 1830, he aspired
to a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, but being re
jected by the constituency before whom he presented
himself, he undertook an oriental journey with his wife
and child. While in Asia, he received the announce-
ment of his election as a deputy from Dunkirk, and ir
1834, hastened home to take his seat in the Chamber.
He did not attach himself particularly to any party,
but appeared always as a friend of justice, of humanity
274 THE REVOLUTION OF 1648.
of tolerance, of morality, and of the poor. He rap-
idly rose to the position of one of the first orators of
France. His rare courage and independence ; his ar-
dent advocacy of all measures calculated to elevate the
people and ameliorate their condition ; and his masterly
eloquence, all pointed him out as the most suitable
head of the revolutionary government, after the over
throw of Louis Philippe. His success at calming th
violent, and subduing the obstinate, his introduction
of great, comprehensive and beneficent measures, and
his guidance of the state safely through the elections
for a constitutional convention, when the national peace
was endangered by a turbulent host of ignorant dema-
gogues, are proofs that the French people were fortu-
nate in making him a member of the provisional
government.
The other members of the provisional government,
although they possessed the respect and confidence of
the citizens of Paris and of the French people, were
scarcely known out of France. Arago, it is true, had
obtained celebrity abroad, but as an astronomer and
not as a politician. He had, however, been a staunch
advocate of republican views for many years. The
reputation of the others was^almost exclusively local.
Dupont de 1'Eure, an old man Of eighty, and a staunch
republican Cremieux, an able lawyer of the Jewish
persuasion Ledru-Kollin, an ultra democrat of the
revolutionary school, earnest and zealous Marie, a
violent agrarian, having an extreme prejudice against
the wealthy classes Gamier Pages, a distinguished
financier Marrast, editor of the "National," a n
talented $ncl energetfCj witli l)roacl nd enlighU>ue<j
LOUIS PHILIPPE IN EXILB. 275
sympathies and Louis Blanc, an enthusiast and a
socialist, these were the most conspicuous members
of the provisional government.
Louis Philippe and all the various members of his
numerous household escaped safely to England, and
took up their residence at Claremont. The provisional
government, instead of making any arrests, seemed to
prefer that all might leave France without molestation.
In exile, the peculiar excellencies and graces of
Louis Philippe's character were exhibited in a favor-
able light. However grave the errors of his adminis-
tration, however reprehensible his conduct as a king,
in his family and in his social intercourse he was un-
usually affectionate and winning. Those who saw him
around his domestic hearth or met him in society,
could not fail to admire him. On his arrival in Eng-
iand, he assumed the title of Count of Neuilly, and
though in his own circle, all the respect, and in some
degree the etiquette of royalty, were maintained, the
exiled king fell easily, and indeed it may be said,
naturally, into the character and manners of a private
gentleman. The vicissitudes of his earlier days, had
confirmed the simplicity of his personal tastes ; and
eertainly no man that ever existed could have stepped
from a throne into the mediocrity of private life with
less sacrifice of his ordinary habits, than Louis Phil-
ippe. He rose late, and breakfasted with his whole
family about ten or eleven. He then read his letters
or the newspapers till about one, when he received
visitors, of whom, both French and English, there was
a pretty constant succession, and with whom he con-
versed upon all subjects, with a fluency and propriety
276 THE REVOLUTION OF 184*.
of diction, a copiousness of information, and, above
all, with an unreserve and a frankness that surprised
those who were not already intimate with him. His
conversation was as diversified as his visitors, and,
amusing and often instructive to all, it was appropriate
to each. His own life was a fruitful topic, on which
he was always ready to speak with frankness, and with
a singular indulgence to the curiosity or even the criti-
cism of his auditors. He had an excellent memory for
family history, as well as for the events of his own long
and varied times. Of his reign, and in regard to his
overthrow, he spoke with freedom and moderation
"What seemed to touch him most nearly was the indif
ference with which his abdication and departure from
France were regarded. He once said to a friend :
"When I was on the throne they would say to me
'Sire! you are the key-stone of the arch on which rests
the peace of 'Europe and the world.' I smiled inter-
nally at the exaggeration, and thought my shoulders
hardly broad enough 'to support the peace of the
world.' These, I said to myself, are either flatterers
or over-partial friends who exaggerate my influence.
Well ; a day came that seemed in some sort to justify
that opinion. I fell; and at that moment an explosiou
of revolutionary wars burst forth throughout Europe
at Vienna, Berlin, Rome, Munich in Sicily, Lorn
bardy, and Hungary ; yet not a voice not one was
heard to ask whether ' this man, whom we have just
condemned to die in exile, had not, after all, some little
share in that general tranquillity and prosperity of
nations which were so generally and so deplorably
interrupted by his fall.' Was tnere due to him no
LOUIS PHILIPPE'S DOMESTIC LITE. 27?
parting word of condolence no regret not even *
remembrance nothing '? "
All his children and grandchildren, even the very
youngest, dined at the same time and table with Louis
Philippe. He had something particularly fatherly in
his character, and was never so happy as when he had
his children about him. It was something new to a
visitor's eye to see all these children, two or three of
them almost infants, sitting at table intermixed with
the elder members of the royal family, the ladies and
gentlemen in waiting, and a few English and many
French occasional guests. Louis Philippe always
carved, (as he used to do at the Tuileries,) and seemed
to take a kind of good-humored pride in the dexterity
and attention with which he helped every body aL
round the table. lie himself was moderate, though
not abstemious, both in eating and drinking ; and im-
mediately at the end of the dessert, all retired from
table at a movement by the queen, and followed their
majesties into the saloon. This was the joyous hour
for the children. One of the elder princes would amuse
them with some new toy a magic lantern, a lottery,
or some general game or they would riot about the
room, and escalade and storm the king's chair as if it
were a breach in a fortress. This seemed to delight
the king. The queen, the princesses and the ladies,
worked at a round table ; sometimes her majesty had
a table of whist. The king generally sat in another
part, of the room, and either read the newspapers or
conversed especially with any visitors. If, amidst
the vast variety of his conversation, a doubt should
happen to occur on any topic, he would appeal to the
278 THE INVOLUTION OF 1M4,
excellent memory and judgment of the queen, on which
he seemed to place the most entire reliance, or to such
one of the princes as he thought likely to be best ac-
quainted with the topic in hand. He seemed to take
a pleasure in bringing forward the special accomplish-
ments of each, and they in general answered his ap-
peals with an intelligence and an accuracy that justified
his paternal pride, which was evidently one of hie
strongest feelings. It was impossible to be half an
hour in his company without seeing some indication
of his remarkable respect for the queen, and affection
for his children.
In spite of the heavy thoughts that must have
weighed upon his mind, his conversation had a strong
tendency to cheerfulness and even gayety ; and he en-
livened even graver topics by a ready abundance of
pleasant illustrations and anecdotes of all the remark-
able men he had seen or known and he had seen
and known every man who had made any figure in tho
world for the last seventy years except Bonaparte
about whom, however, he had a considerable store of
anecdotes.
Although seventy-five years of age, Louis Philippe
retained his mental and bodily vigor until near the
period of his death. In May, 1850, his health began
to decline, and toward the last of August, his physi-
cian deemed it proper to assure him thai his end was
rapidly approaching. This intelligence he communi-
cated to him in presence of the queen. The king
received the announcement with for a moment
something of incredulous surprise and regret, but
quickly recovered his composure, and accepted his
LOUTS PHILIPPE'S DEATH-BED. 279
destiny with the calmness and resolution which had
characterized his whole life. He remained alone with
the queen for some time ; no one can tell what passed
between that royal couple, than which there has sel-
dom existed one in any rank of life so long, so unl
terruptedly, and so entirely happy in each other,
bound together by so many domestic ties by the
participation of such exalted fortunes, and by the
dearer trials of such reverses and vicissitudes. When
at last one of the king's confidential attendants was
permitted to enter the room, he saw the aged couple
the king sitting in his usual chair, and the queen
standing opposite to him motionless and tearless,
with eyes fixed on each other like statues. Not a
word was spoken till the king, with a firm yet inter-
rupted voice, addressed to her some words of love and
consolation. These he repeated with an increasing
tenderness of voice two or three times.
He then recollected that about four months before,
he had been writing some notes relative to his return
to France in 1814 and said that he had stopped in
the middle of an anecdote which he wished to have
finished. He asked for the bunch of keys he always
wore, and told General Dumas, who was then in attend
ance, to go to a certain cabinet where he would find
the paper. The general seemed not to know which
key to use, upon which the king said with a smile, "I
could never teach you to distinguish my keys," and,
taking the bunch with a trembling hand that did not
answer to the energy of the mind, he took off the key,
and gave the general exact directions as to the shape
and place of the paper v When the paper was brought,
280 THE BEVOLUTION OF 1844S.
the king said, f< My hand is already too cold to write.
hut 1 will dictate to you." The general sat down at
the bedside and began to write; and then followed
two small incidents which showed the perfect the
minute possession of his faculties even in that awful
moment. Without looking at the paper, or asking
what, was the last word he had written, four months
previous, he went on with his narrative with the very
next word that the sense required ; and when he saw
the general writing, as he thought, on his own original
paper, he said, "You are not writing on my manu-
script, I hope ; " but the general showed him that it
was a loose sheet which he had only placed on the
manuscript to enable him to hold it more steadily.
The anecdote itself was of no great importance, and
was one which he had often told ; but in the manu-
script it had broken off in the middle of a sentence,
and as it completed a chapter of his Memoirs, he did
not choose to leave it imperfect.
When this affair, which occupied but a short time,
was over, he announced his desire to receive the sacra-
ments of the Catholic Church, and desired that all his
children and grandchildren, then at Claremont, with
the whole household, should be assembled to witness
these last acts of devotion ; and in their presence " he
discharged, (says the official announcement of the
event,) all the duties of religion with the most per-
fect Christian resignation, a stoical firmness, and a
simplicity which is the real evidence of human great-
ness." The queen and all their children remained for
a long time, kneeling, weeping, and praying around
the bed, the king appearing perfectly sensible and
DEATH OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 281
tranquil, and recognizing with a look of affection everj
eye that was occasionally raised to him. The fever
increased in the night, but did riot in the slightest
degree affect his mental composure : nay, he seemed at
one moment to feel so much better as to give a gleam
of hope, which he accepted with alacrity. Even after
he ceased to speak, his eye distinguished benignantly
the persons around. At length he closed his eyes, and
after breathing faintly for some time, without apparent
pain, he expired. This event occurred, August 26,
1850.
Upon the overthrow of Louis Philippe, in February,
1848, the provisional government of the Republic la-
bored energetically to mould the convulsed elements
of France into their new form. Large demonstrations
of the people, in behalf of various measures, were fre-
quently made, while deputations from the Irish, Polish,
and Italian revolutionists, demanding assistance from
the republican government, considerably embarrassed
its operations. Yet the country was saved from serious
difficulty by the admirable line of policy adopted by
Lamartine and his associates. The bitter dissensions,
among all classes, on the subject of socialism, created
the most imminent dangers to which the republic was
exposed. The Parisian population were so violently
agitated by this question, that on several occasions the
"National Guards were called out to overawe the most
turbulent.
In April, elections were held throughout the country,
for deputies to a National Assembly, to organize a con-
stitution. Early in May this body, about eight hun-
dred in number, assembled at Paris. The memben
282 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
of the provisional government presented themselves
before this Assembly, the immediate representatives of
the people's will, and resigned the informal authority
they had exercised over France. The venerable Du-
pont de 1'Eure, who was chosen to perform this office,
read the following address to the Assembly :
" Citizens ! Kepresentatives of the people ! the pro-
visional government of the Republic comes to incline
itself before the nation, and to render conspicuous
homage to the supreme power with which you are in-
vested. Elect of the people! welcome to the great
capital where your presence excites a sentiment of
happiness and hope that will not be disappointed.
Depositaries of the national sovereignty, you are about
to found new institutions upon the wide basis of de-
mocracy, and to give to France the only constitution
that is suitable to her that of Republic. But after
having proclaimed the grand political law, which is
henceforth to definitively constitute the country, you
will endeavor to employ the efficacious action of the
government, as far as possible, in the relations that the
necessity of labor establishes among all citizens, and
which ought to have for a base the holy laws of justice
and fraternity. In fine, the moment has arrived for
the provisional government to place in your hands the
unlimited power with which it was invested by the
Revolution. For us, the dictatorship was only treated
as a -moral power in the midst of the difficult circum-
stances we have traversed. Faithful to our origin and
our personal convictions, we have all been called to
proclaim the rising Republic of February. To-day we
inaugurate the labors of the assejnbly, with the cry
that always rallies us together, ' Vite la Republique! '"
Immediately after the organization of the National
Assembly, Lamartine, Arago, Garnier Pages, Marie
and Ledru-Rollin were elected an executive council to
th jroveruruent Numerous delegation?
ATTEMPTED INSUEJRECTION. 283
from clubs and associations entertaining extreme opin-
ions on political questions, filled the galleries of the
halls, and attempted, sometimes by persuasion and
sometimes by threats, to control the action of the As-
sembly, and have their favorite views embodied in the
new constitution. This was generally the case with
those who held radical and especially with those who
held extravagant notions in regard to the attitude
which the government justly bears toward the laborers.
The more enlightened, discreet and moderate of what
may be called the socialist party, took no part in these
violent attempts to overawe the Assembly. But the
ignorant workmen, feeling that the rights of the masses
had always been sacrificed to promote the interests of
favored classes, and fearing that the wrongs under
which they had smarted were to be continued by the
new government, fully determined to obtain justice,
though without any definite idea of the measares
necessary to accomplish that end ; and having their
apprehensions excited and their passions aroused by
ambitious and unscrupulous demagogues, were con
stantly creating disturbances and embarrassing the
action of the government. As early as the 15th of
May, a band of rioters actually invaded the Assembly
declared its dissolution and proceeded to the forma-
tion of a new provisional government. But they were
surrounded by the National Guards, defeated, and their
leaders were arrested. Yet the dangerous position of
the government was by no means ended by the sup-
pression of this insurrectionary movement The
thousands of workmen who had been temporarily
employed by the government, seeing that they would
284 THR REVOLUTION OF
soon be without regular means of support, famished
ready material for the designs of those parties who
aspired to tho ascendancy. For more than a month
the city remained in a disturbed and anxious state,
which increased from day to day, until the 23d of
June, when another insurrection, more violent and
more wide-spread than its predecessor, broke out.
Formidable barricades were erected, and on the morn-
ing of the 24th, no less than 40,000 insurgents were
armed for the struggle. The crisis was a fearful one.
The national executive committee were powerless. Its
members had formed the provisional government, and
as such, immediately after the overthrow of Louis
Philippe, had restored peace to Paris and to the nation
by offering emplo} r ment and liberal wages to all per-
sons, in national workshops. This measure, most salu-
tary at the time, was inevitably productive of evil
results, for as soon as employment was withdrawn
from these artisans, they assumed a hostile attitude
toward the government. On the 24th, the committee
were superseded by the appointment of General Cav-
aignac as military dictator. General Cavaignac had
won great distinction in the war against Algeria, and
had been at the head of the war department under the
provisional government. He immediately declared
martial law in Paris, and so prompt and energetic
were his measures, that on the 26th of June, after
many severe conflicts and great slaughter, the insur
rection was quelled, and peace was restored to the city.
The number of killed was variously estimated at from
5000 to 10,000. The name of Cavaignac was every-
where greeted with the most enthusiastic acclamation*
LOUIS NAPOLEON AGAIN IN PARIS.
But no sooner were the insurgents subdued, than Cav-
aignac, with an unselfish patriotism worthy of the
highest admiration and praise, modestly resigned the
absolute authority that had been placed in his hands.
As an expression of their gratitude and confidence, the
Assembly determined upon confiding to him the exec-
utive power, with authority to appoint his own min-
istry. His cabinet was composed of men generally
acceptable to the people, and wnile he remained in
power, tranquillity was established in France.
Louis Kapoleon was in London when the Revolution
of the 24th of February, 1848, again threw the social
elements of France into confusion and doubt He im-
mediately hastened to Paris, (the interdict against his
family being now nugatory,) where he was among the
first who saluted and recognized the provisional gov-
ernment. The provisional government, however, being
apprehensive that the presence of the Prince in Paris,
might be made a pretext for disturbances by the ene-
mies of the republic, he discreetly retired again to
London.
On the 24t.h of May, the Assembly, by an almost
unanimous vote, passed a decree of perpetual banish-
ment against Louis Philippe and his family. The law
was so worded as to vindicate itself against the com-
plaints of those who were affected by it. It ran thus :
"The territory of France and her colonies, interdicted
forever to the elder branch of the Bourbons, by the
law of the 10th of April, 1832, is equally interdicted
to Louis Philippe and his family." There was a terri-
ble emphasis in the almost entire unanimity with which
this retaliatory sentence was pronounced against the
286 THE REVOLUTION OF 184&
ex-king and his family. At the passage of this decree
a threatening allusion was made to the Bonaparte
family by some members of the Assembly. Three
members of the Bonaparte family Pierre Napoleon,
son of Lucien : Jerome Napoleon, son of Jerome ; and
Napoleon Achille Murat, son of Caroline Bonaparte,
:ind all nephews of the Emperor had entered France
immediately after the Revolution, and had been elected
delegates to the National Assembly. They manifested
great excitement on the occasion, and asserted then
rights of citizenship on the ground of their election to
that body by the people. There was no desire, how-
ever, to exclude them from France, Louis Napoleon
only being the object of republican jealousy, he having
on two occasions attempted to make himself Emperor
of France. The proposition thus made in the Assem-
bly, drew the following letter from Louis Napoleon :
TO THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY
" London, 23rd May, 1848.
*' CITIZEN REPRESENTATIVES, I learn, by the news-
papers of the 22d inst., that it has been proposed in
the National Assembly to retain against me alone,
the law of exile which has been in force against
ray family since the year 1816 ; I now apply to the
representatives of the people to know why I have
merited this penalty ?
" Can it be for having always publicly declared that,
in my opinion, France was not the property (apanage)
either of an individual, or of a family, or of a party?
" Can it be because, desiring to accomplish the tri-
umph, without anarchy or license, of the principles of
national sovereignty, which alone can put an end to
our dissensions, I have been twice the victim of my
hostility to a government which you have overthrown?
" Can it be for having consented, out of deference *o
THE PRINCE A DELEGATE. 287
the wish of the provisional government, to return to
a foreign country after having hastened to Paris upon
the first news of the Revolution? Can it be because I
disinterestedly refused seats in the Assembly which
were proffered to me, resolved not to return to France
until the new constitution should be agreed upon, and
the republic firmly established ?
'The same reasons which have made me take up
arms against the government of Louis Philippe, would
lead me, if my services were required, to devote
myself to the defense of the Assembly, the result of
universal suffrage.
"In the presence of a king elected by two hundred
deputies, I might have recollected that I was heir to
an empire founded by the consent of four millions of
Frenchmen. In the presence of the national sove-
reignty I can, nor will claim more than my rights as a
French citizen ; but there, I will demand them with
that energy which an honest heart derives from the
knowledge of never having done any thing to render it
unworthy of its country.
" Receive, gentlemen, the assurance of my sentiments
of high esteem. Your fallen citizen,
"NAPOLEON Louis BONAPABTE."
In the mean time elections had been held in various
parts of France, to fill vacancies in the National As-
sembly. Louis Napoleon was unexpectedly elected a
delegate from five different departments. He ad-
dressed the following letter to those who had honored
him with their suffrages :
London, June 11, 184a
" CITIZENS, Your suffrages fill me with gratitude.
This mark of sympathy, which is the more flattering
as I had not solicited it, found me at a moment when 1
was regretting that I should remain inactive while m?
country is in want of the co-operation of all her chil-
dren, in order to pass out of the difficulties in which
she is now placed.
$88 THE RTCVOLFTTON OF 1848.
"The confidence you have reposed in me imposei
duties which I shall know how to fulfill. Our in-
terests, our sentiments, our aspirations, are the same.
A native of Paris, and now a representative of the
people, I shall join my efforts to those of my colleagues
in order to re-establish order, public credit, and indus-
try; to insure peaceful relations abroad; to consoli-
date democratic institutions ; and to conciliate interests
which now seem to be adverse to one another, simply
because they suspect one another, and clash, instead of
marching together toward a single object that of the
prosperity and grandeur of the country.
" The people have been tree since the 24th of Febru-
ary. It may obtain any thing, (it requires?) without
recourse to brute force. Let us, then, rally ourselves
round the altars of the country, under the flag of the
republic, and let us present to the world the grand
spectacle of a people regenerating itself without vio-
lence, without civil contests, without anarchy.
" lleceive, my dear fellow-citizens, the assurance of
my devotedness, and of my sympathies.
"Louis NAPOLEON BONAPABTE."
Some days afterward, Louis Napoleon learned that
the hostility against him in the Assembly was so great
that he could not safely take his seat as a delegate, and
he therefore wrote a letter resigning the place to which
he had been elected. He said "I wish that my dis-
interested new* should prove the sincerity of my patriot-
ism ; I wish that those who charge me with ambition
should be convinced of their error." The next month
he was elected a delegate from the island of Corsica,
but he again declined. In August, however, he deter-
mined to become a candidate at the elections called to
fill vacancies that had occurred in the Assembly. The
result of the election was, that the Prince was returned
for the department - f the Seine, (Paris,) by 110,752
THE PRINCELY DELEGATE RECEIVED.
rotes, and also from Tonne, Moselle, Charente, and
Corsica, in all of which he received large majorities
tJe decided to sit for Paris his native city.
It was on the 26th of September that Louis Na-
poleon Bonaparte took his seat in the National Assem-
bly. He had been elected amid such manifestations
of popular enthusiasm as to have strengthened the un-
easiness and deepened the distrust with which the heir
of the Emperor had been viewed by the republican
party. It was resolved, however, to treat the Prince
with perfect indifference. "When Louis Napoleon en-
tered the hall he was greeted with no friendly welcome.
Quietly, almost timidly, he crept to the seat which was
neld vacant by his old tutor, M. Yiellard, whose affec
tionate smile and pressure of the hand were the only
demonstrations of kindness that had cheered this
hitherto unfortunate exile. As soon as the president
proclaimed that the citizen Louis Napoleon Bonaparte
was a representative of the people, he mounted the
tribune without a mark of encouragement. His self-
possession did not forsake him as he proceeded to read
from a written paper, which, in concise and appropriate
language, declared that he owed too deep a debt of
gratitude to the republic, which had given to him, after
thirty-three years of proscription and exile, a country
and the rights of citizenship, not to devote himself to
its service.
Skillful, yet simple, as was this appeal, it did not
break the icy reserve which had been adopted. It
was expected and hoped that he would have made his
appearance in the midst of some theatrical display,
ome miserable parody of his wonderful nncle'i
19
290 THE REVOLUTION OF 184K
manner, that would have raised a laugh fatal to hit
popularity. He did quite the reverse. His manner was
unassuming, his remarks were full of spirit and dignity.
Shortly after Louis Napoleon took his seat in the
Assembly, a discussion arose upon the articles in the
constitution, relative to the presidency. One member
proposed the insertion of a proviso declaring that n
member of the families who had reigned over France
should be elected .to that office. This proposition
created much agitation, but it was finally withdrawn,
in consequence of the solemn and repeated assurances
of Louis Napoleon and the other members of the Bo-
naparte family in the Assembly, that they were 'de-
voted to the republic, and had no ambitious views \o
serve by its subversion.
In his address to the Assembly, on first taking his
seat as one of that body, he had said "My conduct,
you may be certain, shall ever be guided by a respect-
ful devotion to the law. It will prove, to the confusion
of those who have attempted to slander me, that no
man is more devoted than I am to the defense of order
and the consolidation of the Republic." "When it was
proposed to exclude both Bonapartes and Bourbons
from eligibility to the presidency of France, Louis Na-
poleon, with apparent humility, declared, " that he was
too grateful to the nation for restoring to him his rights
as a citizen, to have any other ambition." This assur-
ance being given, the proposition was withdrawn. In
another address to tre Assembly, he exclaimed,
"How little do those who charge me with ambition
know my heart!" Yet two weeks afterward Louis
Napoleon was publicly announced as a candidate for
the presidency.
ADDRESS TO THE FitKKUH PEOPLE. 29J
The presidential election was to be held on the 10th
jf December. Louis Napoleon was among the candi-
dates, and he lost no time in issuing the following
addr;*ss to the French people.
u FELLOW CITIZENS, In order to recall me from
exile, you elected me a representative of the people.
On the eve of your proceeding to the election of chief
magistrate of the republic, my name presents itself to
you as a sj r mbol of order and security.
"These testimonies of a confidence so honorable, are
due, I am aware, much more to the name which I bear
than to myself, who have as yet done nothing for my
country; but the more the memory of the Emperor
protects me, and inspires your suffrages, the more I
feel myself called upon to make known to you my
sentiments and principles. There must not be any
thing equivocal in the relations between us.
"I am not an ambitious man, who dreams at one time
of the empire and of war ; at another of the adoption
of subversive theories. Educated in free countries,
and in the school of misfortune, I shall always remain
faithful to the duties which your suffrages, and the will
of the Assembly, may impose upon me.
" If I am elected president, I should not shrink from
any danger, from any sacrifice, to defend society,
which has been so audaciously attacked. I should
devote myself wholly, without reserve, to the confirm-
ing of a republic, which has shown itself wise by its
Jaws, honest in its intentions, great and powerful by
its acts.
"I pledge my honor to leave to my successor, at the
end of four years, the executive powers strengthened,
liberty intact, and a real progress accomplished.
" Whatever may be the result of the election, I shall
bow to the will of the people ; and I pledge before-
hand, my co-operation with any strong and honest
government which shall re-establish order in principles
as well as in things ; which shall efficiently protect our
re.igion, our families, and our properties the eternal
202 THE REVOLUTION OF 184&
basis of every social community ; which shall attempt
all practicable reform, assuage animosities, reconcile
parties, and thus permit a country rendered anxious
by circumstances, to count upon the morrow.
"To reestablish order is to restore confidence to
repair, by means of credit, the temporary depreciation
of resources to restore financial positions and revive
commerce.
" To protect the religion and the rights of families, is
to insure the freedom of public worship and education.
"To protect property is io maintain the inviolability
of the fruits of every man's labor ; it is to guarantee
the independence and the security of possession, an
indispensable foundation for all civil liberties.
" As to the reforms which are possible, the following
are those which appear to me to be the most urgent :
"To adopt all those measures of economy, which,
without occasioning disorder in the public service, will
permit a reduction of those taxes which press most
heavily on the people to encourage enterprises which,
while they develop agricultural wealth, may, both in
France and Algeria, <*ive work to hands at present
unoccupied to provide for the relief of laborers in
their old age, by means of provident institutions to
introduce into industrial laws, modifications which may
tend not to ruin the rich for the gain of the poor, but
to establish the well-being of each upon the prosperity
of all.
"To restrict within just limits the number of em
ployments which shall depend upon the government
and which often convert a free people into a nation
of beggars.
"To avoid that florloral/le tendency which leads the
etr.to to dv iliut which individuals may do as well, and
better, f<.: themselves. The centralization of interests
and enterprises is in the nature of despotism: the
nature of a republic is to reject monopolies.
" Finally, to protect the liberty of the press from the
two excesses which endanger it at present that of
arbitrary authority on the one hand, and of its own
licentiousness on the other.
GENERAL CAVAIGJSTAO. 293
" With war ^e can have no relief to our ills. Peace,
therefore, would be the dearest object of my desire.
France, at the time of her first Revolution, was war-
like, because others forced her to be so. Threatened
with invasion, she replied by conquest. Now she is
not threatened, she is free to concentrate all her re-
sources to pacific measures of amelioration, without
abandoning a loyal and resolute policy. A great
nation ought to be silent, or never to speak in vain.
"To have regard for the national dignity is to have
regard for the army, whose, patriotism, so noble and
BO disinterested, has frequently been neglected. We
ought, while we maintain the fundamental laws which
are the strength of our military organization, to alle-
viate, and not aggravate, the burden of the conscrip-
tion. We ought to take care of the present and future
interests, not only of the officers, but likewise of the
non-commissioned officers and privates, and prepare a
certain means of subsistence for men who have long
served under our colors.
"The republic ought to be generous, and have faith
in its future prospects ; and, for my part, I, who have
suffered exile and captivity, appeal with all my warm-
est aspirations to that day when the country may,
without danger, put a stop to all proscriptions, and
efface the last traces of our civil discords.
"Such, my dear fellow-citizens, are the ideas which
I should bring to bear upon the functions of govern
ment, if you were to call me to the presidency of
the republic.
"The task is a difficult one the mission immense.
I know it. .But I should not despair of accomplishing
it; inviting to my aid, without distinction of party, all
men who, by their high -intelligence or their probity,
have recommended themselves to public esteem.
"For indeed, when a man has the honor to be at the
head of the French nation, there is an infallible way to
succeed, and that is to desire to do so.
" Louis NAPOLEON BONAPARTE."
The remaining candidates for the presidency were
294 THE KEVOLUT1ON OF 1848.
General Cavaignac, Larnartine, Ledru-lioliin, and lla*
pail. A few days showed that there were only two
who could dispute the great prize General Cavaiguac
and Louis Napoleon. The first had all the claims
arising from undoubted personal merit and eminent
services to his country. The other bore a name dear
to the French people ; and, if he had committed great
faults, he had paid the atonement of great sufferings,
which he had borne patiently. Within the five months
that General Cavaignac governed France, he had
given proofs of every qualification necessary to the
head of a republic. He had come before the nation an
almost unknown man. He had never held a chief
command in Algeria before February ; but as Colone*
and then Brigadier Cavaignac, he had been esteemed
as a highly meritorious officer. He was a man who
never sought to push himself into notice or to attract
attention to his acts. He drew up a report once of an
affair in which he had been severely wounded, without
mentioning his wound. Appointed governor of Al-
geria by the provisional government, he set at once
about his duties, and it was remarked that the first
paper which he issued on his appointment was of a
singularly superior kind. Called home to take the
post of minister of war, he applied himself to the duties
of his department as if he had no other object to at-
tend to. He sought not to attract attention to himself
by speeches, and he dreamed not of intrigues. When,
to his clear judgment, a battle was impending, he
prepared to meet it; when it came, he mounted his
horse and inspected the barricades with that concen-
trated intensity of purpose wnich would not allow him
to ward off tho balls flviroj about his nead.
THE I'KKSTPfcXTIAl, KI.KO'ITON. 295
Elevated to the head of the government, he applied
himself to the study of foreign affairs, and having
satisfied his mind that peace was for the interests of
France, he determined that no earthly consideration
should induce him to entangle the country in a war,
so long as her honor was not affected. Taking the
lead in every debate, he never said a word more than
was essential for the purpose of making known the
views of government. Nor would he have spoken at
all if he did not deem it to be his duty to accept,
frankly, the burden that had been placed on his
shoulders. Regarding situations exactly as they were,
he recognized that, pending the proposition of the con-
stitution, his government was only provisional ; that
the Assembly was master, and that he should, as in
duty bound, execute the wishes of the Assembly so
long as he held its confidence.
The election of General Cavaignac to the presidency
of the republic was by his partisans deemed secure.
He was a man whom no situation had taken by sur-
prise; and as all situations had been met and filled
with perfect ability, the measure of such a man's ca-
pacity could not even yet be said to have been reached.
New trials were before the republic, and there was
the man, who, holding a true, straightforward course,
and taking things as he found them, could yet adapt
himself to an encounter with any difficulty with mar-
velous plasticity. At the prime of life tall, well-
forraed, and dignified ; with the proud head of a
Coriolanus, and the sensibility of the stoical Brutus.
His quickness to feel suspicion or slight, explains why
he shunned occasion.-; for display. This characteristic
296 THE REVOLUTION OF 1848.
quality explains, too, his tenure of office in times so
difficult ; for his readiness to resign power secured
power in his hands. Thus, brave, proud, sensitive,
dignified, able, and unostentatious ; full of republican
O '
zeal, and yet anxious for the maintenance of all social
rights, as concentrated by the sentiments, habits, reli-
gion, and laws of society ; a moral and military disci-
plinarian ; it would seem as if providence had sent the
right man at the right time to the French people, and
they rejected him. Although rejecting, they revered
and esteemed him.
The election day arrived. The weather was of ex-
traordinary clearness and beauty for the season ; the
animal spirits of the people rose cheerfully. The name
of Napoleon proved a charm for the peasantry, who
marched to the ballot-boxes with outspread banners.
In the leading towns, Cavaignac was well supported ;
but the farmers and peasantry voted almost unani-
mously for the heir of the Emperor. It was calculated
that it would take a fortnight, at least, to examine the
votes ; but the result was not doubtful from the first
hour. Conjectures of an injurious character to Gen-
eral Cavaignac were hazarded by people who did
not know the man ; the unworthiness of these asper-
sions was soon demonstrated. On the evening of the
20th of December, an unusual movement was observed
in Paris. Troops, appearing in all directions, were
seen converging to one point the National Assembly.
The avenues to the Assembly bristled with bayonets.
and were animated by cavalry. It had been resolved
upon suddenly to proclaim the president of the re-
public \viii.out waiting until all the votes had been
counted. The reason assigned for this step was, to
RESULT OF THE ELECTION. 297
defeated by anticipation the suspected designs of a party,
to carry Louis Napoleon from the Assembly to the
Tuileries, and there abrogate the oath to the republic,
by proclaiming him Emperor. But the ceremonial of
inaugurating the newly elected president was not at-
tended by any disturbance. On counting the votes, it
was found that 7,327,345 had been cast, and that of
these
The Citizen Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had obtained. 5,434,226
The Citizen Cavaignac 1,448,107
The Citizen Ledru-Roliin 370,110
The Citizen Raspail 36,920
The Citizen Lamartine 17,810
General Cavaignac rose, and without preface,
handed in the resignation of ministers, adding simply,
" I came also to resign into the hands of the Assembly
the power with which it was good enough to invest
me. The Assembly will comprehend, much better
than I can express, the sentiments of gratitude that its
confidence and kindness have ineffaceably engraved
on my memory." A burst of enthusiastic plaudits
accompanied the gallant General to his seat. The suc-
cessful candidate was then proclaimed president of the
republic, and after a short address, delivered with
fervor an address conceived in the most unostenta-
tious language, and breathing of peace and concord,
Louis Napoleon descended from the tribune and
walked to the place where sat his honored rival, whose
hand he respectfully took and pressed, amidst renewed
applause The Assembly needed no fresh proof of the
magnanimity of Cavaignac; but the behavior of Louis
Napoleon at this, the first hour of his triumph, pro-
duced a most favorable impression, and tended to
remove many prejudices. 18*
CHAPTER VI.
THE BONAPARTE FAMILY
THE history of France, during the past sixty years,
bears a striking resemblance to those fabrications of
oriental genius, in which human events are continually
under the guidance of spirits of the air in which
fantastic fallacies are erected by a spell, alS'd the treas-
ures of the earth developed by the wave of a wand
in which the mendicant of this hour is exalted into the
prince of the next; and while the wonder still glitters
before the eye, another sign of the necromancer dis-
solves the whole pageant into air again. A king of
France is seized by his subjects and beheaded. The
country is torn in pieces by fierce and conflicting fac-
tions. Everywhere confusion, bloodshed and suffering,
are witnessed. Suddenly an unknown stripling rushed
forward, collected the scattered fragments of the Revo-
lution and combined them in a new and powerful
shape, changed anarchy into order, and subdued all
factions to his will. Through the clouds and tempests
of the Revolution, he sprung into the highest position
of power. Placing an imperial crown upon his own
brow, he led his triumphant armies over all Europe.
Impetuous and daring, from the first hour of his public
life, the government of this imperial despot was, like
himself, a model of fierce and indomitable energy
INSTABILITY OF THE MONAKOHT. 299
Whatever was to him an object of ambition, was in-
stantly in his grasp, and whatever he seized was made
the instrument of a fresh seizure. He was apparently
the agent of Providence for the punishment of a long
course of kingly guilt. He crushed the monarchs of
Europe in bloody encounters ; captured their capitals ;
plundered their provinces, and humbled their pride by
contemptuous and bitter conditions of peace. But
when his destined work was done when the victims
were broken on the wheel, the wheel and the execu-
tioner were alike hurried from the scene. The man
who had guided the empire of France in its track of
conquest and devastation the soul of all its strength
and of its ambition was swept away. History has
no record of so much power, so widely distributed,
and apparently so fixed above all the ordinary casual-
ties of the world, so instantly and completely over-
thrown. This man of boundless but brief, grandeur,
died a captive on a distant rock, but his sepulcher was
placed in the midst of that people so slow to learn that
ambition always pays for its splendor by its calami-
ties ; that the strength of a nation is in the justice of
its councils ; and that " he who uses the sword shall
perish by the sword." Upon the fall of Napoleon, the
family overthrown and driven into exile by the Revolu-
tion, was again restored to the throne of France. But
they were permitted to occupy it for only a brief period.
Scarcely fifteen years had passed away when another
king of France was dethroned. So sudden was the
Revolution, so unexpected the catastrophe, that the
king apprehended no danger until his power was gone.
He left the card table, to which he had sat down in
BOO THE BONAPAKTB FAMILY.
fancied security, to flee from his palace and from his
kingdom. France accepted another king. He passed
the seventeen years of his reign in carefully fortifying
his throne. But one morning, when his power was ap-
parently the greatest, and when his dynasty seemed tc
be firmly established, the door of the breakfast room,
whore he was calmly seated with his family, was thrown
open and two men entered, pale as ghosts. They were
ministers of state. Their news was as unexpected as
it was momentous. Discontent prevailed in the city ;
the populace were out ; the soldiers were disarmed ;
the king's infuriated subjects were approaching the
very apartment in which he had but just enjoyed his
meal. It was enough. "Let us go," exclaimed the
monarch, and leaning heavily upon the queen, whose
head was erect and haughty, he hurried away. He
escaped from his capital. Then shaving off his whisk-
ers, putting on green spectacles, burying his face in his
handkerchief, speaking English, and calling himself
William Smith, he embarked for England. The other
members of the royal family crept into hiding places,
until they could find opportunities to escape over the
frontiers. Is this history or fiction? reality or illusion?
The most substantial power fades suddenly away, as
if by the enchantment of the genii of the "Arabian
Nights" kings, to human view, firmly seated on their
thrones, become, by the changes of an hour, proscribed
and hunted fugitives friendless and impoverished
exiles are as rapidly and unexpectedly snatched from
their obscurity and poverty, and invested with supreme
power and unlimited wealth ! The kings of the earth
are not commonly undone by a single blow ; kingdoms
THE EMPRESS MAKIA LOtJIBA. 301
do not cha ie their dynasties without a struggle. But
the four diadems of the Napoleon race, as well as those
of the Bourbon and Orleans families, fell from their
wearers' brows with scarcely a touch from the hands
of man.
We have followed one of the Bonaparte family, from
the splendor of his uncle's imperial court into a long
and unfortunate exile, and from exile back again to
the highest dignity in his native France: it will not
be uninteresting to follow the varying fortunes of the
other members of the Bonaparte family, scattered as
they were, at the time of Napoleon's death, over all
parts of the civilized world. And first, of Maria
Louisa, the wife of the Emperor, and her infant son,
the King of Rome.
Maria Louisa at the time of her marriage with Na-
poleon, in 1810, was nineteen years of age, tall and
fair, but not beautiful. She had been taught, like all
princesses, to embroider, to paint, and to play on the
piano. Beyond this she was educated in little else
than hatred of Bonaparte and the French; for the
king-slayers had been twice at the gates of her father.
Austria had twice lost all, and had nothing to give,
when the lion roared for more prey, except her own
flesh and blood. So Maria Louisa was yielded up.
The mild creature never had an independent wish of
her own ; she never knew how to show any reluctance
to other people's demands. She had been taught to
hate, and she hnted ; she was now bidden to love, and
she married, When, in 1814. dangers and disasters
were thickening around the devoted head of her im
perial husband, she hastened the catastrophe by fleeing
302 THE BOWAPABTE FAMILY.
from France with her reluctant infant. From thia
moment she considered herself to be virtually divorced
from him. The idea of sharing his misfortunes, and
of soothing his agony, never entered her head. He
became once more the arch-fiend and ogre of her child-
hood. His solicitations that she should join him were
disregarded. From the first instant of her departure
from Paris, no symptom of affection for her husband,
or sympathy for his fate, was witnessed in her. After
her return to Austria, her time was spent in the most
frivolous occupations. She even joined her relations
in their clamorous rejoicings at the enemy's downfall.
Her aunt, Maria Caroline of-'Naples, gave her a hint aa
to the propriety of tying up her bed-clothes, to let her-
self down from a window, and of joining her husband
at Elba. But Maria Louisa evinced no desire to cling
to the wreck of departed greatness. In the duchy of
Parma, over which the allied powers had promised to
make her sovereign, all her ambition was centered.
She dwelt, with an inconceivable fondness, on the pros-
pects of unshared sovereignty ; and her anxiety for the
exercise of undivided dominion was increased by the
artful postponement of its enjoyment. The allies re-
quired her to divest herself of her proud titles; to
forget her husband ; to deliver all his letters into her
father's hands ; to cease from all correspondence with
him ; to surrender her son to an Austrian governess ;
to renounce, in his name, all rights of succession to the
French throne ; to rebaptize him as Charles Joseph,
Duke of Reichstadt; and to suffer him to linger be-
hind, in a kind of imprisonment, at Schonbrunn. Her
obedience outdid even the irnmoderateness of their
MARIA LOUISA. 303
demands. She was, above all things, eager to advance
her prospects as a candidate for an Italian principality.
IL. 1814 while Napoleon was at Elba, she was permit-
ted to go, unattended by her son, to the baths of Aix,
in Savoy. There she was tempted into a career of
profligacy. Her father, who had sacrificed her heart
as a bride, seemed not unwilling to even immolate her
fame as a wife. All that remained pure and ingenuous
in the character of the ex-empress was corrupted among
the pleasures and dissipations at Aix. She became
discreditably intimate with the Count of Neipperg, a
Hungarian nobleman. In one of his early campaigns
the count had lost an eye ; but that honorable wound
was carefully covered by a black band drawn round
the brow in the shape of a diadem, and there re-
mained charm enough in the one eye he had left to
drive Xapoleon's image from the heart of Maria-
Louisa. As her private secretary, the count was
brought into the closest intimacy with his royal mis-
tress. In consultations of state, (for the duchess busied
herself much respecting her future subjects,) as well aa
in parties ot pleasure, riding, dancing, or traveling,
they were inseparable. She was encouraged in this
career of folly, not only by the courts of Europe, but
by her own father. In her and in her sickly son, tho
Duke of Reichstadt, were centered the hopes of the
Bonapartists. As a virtuous woman she wonld have
still been formidable ; but she soon ceased to be
virtuous.
Her base intrigues with Neipperg continued at
Vienna, wnere the count accompanied his sovereign
lady in September, 1814. A few months afterward
304 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
Napoleon was again triumphant in Paris. Maria
Louisa was in a fever of anxiety about her hard-won
Italian sovereignty, which that untimely invasion
might wrench from her grasp. Under that apprehen-
sion she solemnly disclaimed all knowledge of, or
participation in, her husband's enterprise, and im-
plored the protection of her father and the allies against
him, as against her most dangerous enemy. She re-
jected all his advances, revealed and frustrated an
attempt made by his friends to carry her off with her
child, and then sat dowL to embroider banners for the
Austrian regiments warring against him !
In 1816, surrounded by pomp and magnificence,
with her one-eyed secretary by her side, Maria Louisa
was permitted to enter her insignificant principality.
The duchy of Parma, Placenza, and Guastalla is one
of the most fertile and beautiful districts in the valley
of the Po. It is about 2,200 square miles in extent,
and the population has never exceeded half a million.
In the middle ages it consisted of three petty states .
they shed their best blood in endless as well as useless
feuds, till, after passing from one tyrant's hands to
another's from Correggio to Visconti, and from
Visconti to Este they were finally united into an
independent duchy by Pope Paul III., who invested
his illegitimate son, Pier Luigi Farnese, with the
sovereignty ; and although that son of a pope did no*
fare too well at the hands of his subjects, who strangled
and flung him from a high window of the citadel of
Placenza into the moat beneath, yet the sovereignty
remained in possession of his descendants, some of
became famous^ or infamous, in history. Like
MAU.A LOUISA. 805
most other Italian reigning families, the Farnese be-
came extinct from their impotence, occasioned by
habitual debauchery, in 1748. The ill-fated duchy
became a bone of contention for all the powers of
Europe, and had, in the end, to pay most of the expense
of the wars it had given rise to. It was finally
adjudged to belong to Don Philip, one of the Spanish
Bourbons. Don Philip having broken his neck in the
chase, Don Ferdinand, his son and successor, called
the bell-ringer from his partiality for that pious and
healthy exercise, found himself involved in the great
catastrophe of the French invasion, and, in 1802, his
duchy was united to France. To the prejudice of the
'ieir of Don Ferdinand, an illegitimate child, the duchy
vvas bestowed upon Maria Louisa. Her reign was
one of gayety and extravagance. She lavished large
sums upon the erection of a theater, and was proud of
possessing an unrivaled orchestra ; she bid a cheer-
ful welcome to all the strolling fiddlers and play-
ers who applied to her for patronage. She took an
active part in all the gorgeous processions, and waa
the soul of the carnival. Her theaters, her menageries
and aviaries ; her superb villas and magnificent train ;
her regiment of grenadiers ; her profuse liberality to
mimes and charlatans, before long exhausted her
revenue. Already, at her arrival, the new duchess
had been preceded by a decree raising a sum of
$600.000, with which her subjects were to pay for the
honor of receiving an Austrian archduchess for their
liege lady. Ever afterward, money went over to
Austria, under a thousand pretexts, and without pre-
It was now a tribute of vassalage, now a
20
306 THE BONAPARTE FAMIIT.
bargain of allegiance. Parmesan manufactures \veic
closed, as injurious to Austrian industry. Parmesan
steamboats on the Po were stopped, as encroaching on
Austrian commerce. Ignorance and filial submissive-
ness might account for this mismanagement of her
subjects' interests. She knew she could do no better.
But the amount of her own prodigality, and the foolish
expenses of her endless journeyings, were not less fatal
to the state than the insatiate cupidity of Austria.
She was never long in her own dominions. Now she
had her son to embrace at Munich ; now a new gown
to try on at Milan ; then a wedding to attend, or a
christening, or a funeral ; and wherever she went,
there followed a long caravan of dames, pages, grooms,
.apdogs and monkeys. She went through Europe as
an empress. Newspapers expatiated on her splendid
attire and her unbounded liberalities. No one knew
what terrible grinding all this extravagance inflicted
on her people.
The scandalous intimacy of Maria Louisa with
Neipperg was continued until she heard of the death
of Napoleon at St. Helena, when she married her
one-eyed lover. Three children were the offspring of
this connection. If we are to believe all the scandals
current at Parma, Neipperg had no easy time with his
mistress. Her confessor, a German youth, stout and
rosy, was made a bishop to remove him from his too
fond penitent. Captain Crotti, a handsome Italian,
and Mac Aulay, an ardent Irishman, it was thought
judicious to remove from the neighborhood of tin-
susceptible lady. 1 Bnt Neipperg died in 1828, n:-!
Lcuisa was free again to select her favorite*
THE SON OF BONAPAKTE. 30*
During the revolutions of 1838, the successor of
Keipperg, for the time being, was a Baron Verclein.
who was far from being popular with the Parmese.
He and his mistress were driven from the duchy.
She was finally permitted to return, but the favorite
was not. Instead, she was constrained to accept of
one Mistrali, as principal minister of state. This
able and conscientious man undertook to repair the
shattered finances of the principality ; and by a wise
and firm rule he got his sovereign out of debt. The
duchess herself was the first victim of the minister's
economical schemes. He reduced her household ;
bullied her singers and fiddlers from the court ; car-
Tied havoc and devastation among her parrots and
monkeys; sold her diamonds and melted her jewels.
The results of this policy was an unembarrassed ex-
chequer. Maria Louisa would have grumbled, but she
dared not.
In this state of distress she bethought herself of the
priests. Like many a wanton, she was destined to die
a bigot In 1834 she grew devout and married
Bombellee, an old dandy, at the same time. She
spent the remainder of her days mostly at Schon-
brunn, for her subjects hated her too cordially to
make her residence in Parma agreeable to her. She
died in the year 1848.
The life of young Napoleon makes but a meager litth
gtory, interesting, one might say, only from its very
insignificance. As if to sever him completely from
all the circumstances that had marked his birth, he
had hardlv set his foot in Austria when the very name
ae bore was taken from him During his mother't
308 THE BONAPABTE FAMLT.
fife, he was to depend on her, and her only ; after her
death, he was to enter on the possession of a property
assigned to him by his grandfather an estate in
Bohemia, with a revenue of about $100,000. In the
mean time, laying aside his baptismal name of Na-
poleon-Frangois, he was to assume the name and title
of Francis Joseph Charles, Duke of Reichstadt, rank-
ing, by virtue of that title, among the nobility of the
Austrian empire, immediately after the princes of the
imperial family, the archdukes of Austria.
Only three years of age when he went with his
mother to reside at Schonbrunn, the young Duke of
Reichstadt spent the whole remainder of his life either
there or at Vienna ; only on one or two occasions'
traveling from either beyond the distance of a few
miles. By his grand father, the Emperor, as well as by
all the other members of the royal family, he seems
to have been always treated with extreme kindness.
After the departure of his mother for her Italian states,
he was committed to the care of various masters,
under the superintendence of an Austrian nobleman.
Regarding his early education, only two facts of any
interest are mentioned : his excessive reluctance at
first to learn German, which, however, soon became
more his own than French ; and his fondness for his-
torical reading, and especially for books relating to the
career of his father. As a boy, he was, on the whole,
dull, grave, and mirthless ; but docile and affectionate.
Tne news of his father's death, which occurred when
he was ten years of age, is said to have produced a
visible effect on him. It was evident, indeed, that the
boy, young as he was, had been brooding in secret
309
over the mj-stery of his own changed condition, and
cherishing, as well as he could, the thought of his con-
nection with the extraordinary being whom he could
dinaly recollect as his father ; whose busts and portraits
he could still see ; and who, as they tried to explain to
him, was now living shut up in an island on the other
side of the earth, whither the nations of Europe had
conspired to send him for their own safety. This
thought of his father became the boy's single passion ;
and when he could no longer think of that father as
still existing on the earth, his respect for his memory
amounted to a worship. Every book that could tell
him any thing about his father, he devoured with
eagerness ; and if he chanced to hear of the arriva.
of any one at Vienna who had had personal relations
with the Emperor, he was uneasy till he had seen him.
At last, to gratify this anxiety for information about
his father, his tutors, at his grandfather's command,
began to instruct him systematically in modern history
and politics ; concealing from him nothing that could
enlighten him as to the real course of his father's life,
and its effects on the condition of Europe, and only
adding such comments and expositions as might make
him aware, at the same time, in what points his father
was thought to be reprehensible. Perplexed by such
lessons in history, the poor boy did his best to come to
tbe right conclusion, and to express himself judiciously
to his tutors regarding what he was taught to con-
sider his father's errors and excesses. In all cases of
feeling and instinct, however, the memory of his
father prevailed. The very books that his father had
liked, such as Tasso and Ossian, became, for that
310 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
reason, his favorites. His father's campaigns and
dispatches he made a subject of diligent study, using
them as texts for his own military lessons. In short,
before he had attained his seventeenth year, he had
read and re-read every thing that had been written
regarding Napoleon, and had fixed in his memory all
the most minute particulars relating either to his
military or political life, the names of his generals, his
chief battles, and the various incidents in his long
career, from his birth in Corsica to his burial in St.
Helena. One point in this great history he would
dwell on with special interest that, amid universal
acclamations, he himself had come into the world the
unconscious heir of a mighty empire.
This brooding on the past naturally assumed, as he
grew up, the form of a restless anxiety, respecting the
future. That he, the son of Napoleon, was no common
person ; that, as the possessor of a great name, superior
actions and qualifications would be required of him ;
that in some way or other, he must take part in the
affairs of Europe such was the idea that inevitably
took possession of him. The pedantry of his teachers
appears to have fostered it to an undue extent. If, for
example, the poor youth contracted an admiration for
the poet Byron, his teachers were at hand to criticise
the poet for him, and reduce his opinion to the just
shape and standard, lest he should commit what in his
case would be the signal impropriety of exaggerated
praise. If, again, he was seen to be falling in love
with a lady of his grandfather's court, they were at
hand to reason him out of the affair by considerations
f what was due to his peculiar situation, and his
THE SON OF NAPOLEON. 311
importance in the public eye. With this notion of the
peculiarity of his position brandished before him from
morning to night, he would go moping about the
imperial court, an amiable youth, the prey of unknown
cares. And what, after all, -was the peculiarity of his
situation, except extreme insignificance ? A pensioner,
in the mean time, on the imperial bounty, ultimately
the mere possessor of some Bohemian estates, doomed
to inactivity by the misfortune of too great a name,
was there not a mockery in all this solicitude of which
he found himself the object? Haunted, it would ap-
pear, by some such feeling, and yet carried forward by
the restless sense that he must do something or other
to merit his name, he seemed to have grasped eagerly
at the only chance of activity that was presented to
him military promotion in his grandfather's ser-
vice. Hence the assiduity with which he pursued his
military studies, and the regularity with which he pre-
sented himself on horseback at all reviews and parades;
the Yiennese pointing him out to strangers on such
occasions, as the son of Xapoleon. "When, at last, after
going through the previous grades, he was permitted
by his grandfather to assume the rank and uniform of
a lieutenant-colonel, his delight was unbounded. For
three days the poor youth appeared at the head of his
regiment, giving the word of command ; on the fourth
he was laid aside with loss of voice.
There was one quarter of the political horizon, how-
ever, to which the son of Xapoleon would often wist-
fully look that France to which he belonged; to
which his dying father had bequeathed him with such
solemn injunctions that they should be true, the <W to
THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
the other ; and where, even jet, there were myriads of
veteran hearts that beat high at the name of Bonaparte.
1 1 in Austrian education had indeed isolated him from
all means of direct communication with his native
country, and had made him, in many respects, an alien
tVtm it; but certain chords there were that no force
could snap, which still secretly bound him to France.
On the other hand, if he was personally forgotten or
unknown, in the city that he thus knew only from the
map, there were at least principles and men there that
were ready to burst out in his behalf. So, at all events,
it appeared when the Revolution of July, 1830, came
to be transacted. Had the young Xapoleon been in
Paris, or near it, when that Revolution occurred, how
different might have been the issue ! a Absent as he
was, (says a French writer,) if an old general of the
Emperor had but pronounced his name to the people,
France might have had a Napoleon II. instead of a
Louis Philippe." Some timid Bonapartist attempts, it
appears, were usually made. In Paris one Bona-
partist, who came to a meeting of the leading politi-
cians with the name of the Duke of Reichstadt on his
lips, was dexterously locked up in a room till the
business was over. Communications were even con-
veyed to the duke himself. When the news of the
Revolution reached Vienna, the young man could not
conceal his agitation ; he even requested, it is said, in
the flutter of the moment, to be allowed to go to the
assistance of Charles X. But with the news of the
accession of Louis Philippe, other thoughts succeeded.
One evening, as he was ascending a staircase in the
imperial palace, a young woman, enveloped in a *
THE SOI* OF BONAPARTE. 313
Scotch plaid, rushed forward from a landing-place
where she seemed to have been waiting, and taking
his hand, pressed it eagerly to her lips. His tutor,
who was with him, asked her business. " May I not
kiss, (she said,) the hand of my sovereign's son?" and
immediately disappeared. For some time, the inci-
dent could not be explained, but at length no doubt
remained that the fair stranger was his cousin, the
Countess Camerata, a married daughter of his de-
ceased aunt Bacchiochi. On a visit to Vienna, the
countess had constituted herself the medium of com-
munication between the Bonapartists and her young
cousin, to whom she even ventured, some months after
the Revolution of July, to address a letter, encourag-
ing him, even then, to assume a decided part. From
these, and all overtures of the same kind, the poor
youth seems to have shrunk with a kind of dutiful
horror ; and his excitement regarding the Revolution
of 1830 soon subsiding into a calmer mood, he began,
we are told, to write down, in the form of an essay, a
series of very Austrian reflections on hw own life, and
the relations which he bore to France.
From the very first, indeed, it had been seen that
the young Napoleon could not live long. Undoubted
symptoms of the presence in his constitution of the
seeds of that malady that had carried oft' his lather,
early presented themselves ; and to these were added
other symptoms, too clearly marking him out as the
prey of consumption. From being a handsome, deli-
cate boy, he had suddenly shot up, before his eight-
eenth year, into a tall, feeble, and sickly, though still
handsome young man, the constant care of the imperial
314 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
physicians. Toward the end of the year 1831, he
became rapidly worse, and was obliged to abstain from
his military exercises, and from all active exertion
whatever. During the winter of that year, arid the
spring of 1832, he lived at Schonbmnn, almost wholly
confined to his chamber. It had been resolved to
remove him to Naples, should it be possible to do so,
in the autumn of 1832 ; but the disease made such
progress, that before that time the fatal result had
taken place. For many weeks he had been in great
pain, and incapable of any change of position, save
that of being wheeled to a window-balcony overlook-
ing the gardens of Schonbrunn. Even this was at last
beyond his strength ; and, stretched on his bed in
great suffering, he waited anxiously for his release.
Maria Louisa arrived from Italy only in time to see
him die. It was on the 22d of July, 1832, that he
breathed his last. Some days after, there was a funera^
procession through the streets of Vienna, and the body
of Napoleon's son was committed to the imperial vaults.
While the heir of Napoleon was thus living and
dying at Yienna, the other members of the Bonaparte
family were dispersed over the world, gazed at every
where as the relics of a grandeur that had passed
away.
Joseph, the elder brother of Napoleon, and through
life his most intimate friend, was born in .. Corsica,
January 7, 1768. He was, together with Napoleon,
educated at Autun, where the tendency of their res-
pective tastes and character developed itself by theii
preference of, or excellence in. particular studies
, the man of letters and of peace, doing for hi*
JOSEPH BO-NAl'AKTE. 315
soldier-brother his Latin and Greek verses ; while ttie
future conqueror studied Caesar and Alexander, and
helped his brother in the mathematics. Elected a
deputy from Ajaccio to the Corsican Assembly, in
1790, Joseph ardently embraced the principles of the
French Revolution, which he cherished to his death.
He was, speculatively, always a friend of freedom, and
though the crown of two nations had graced his brow,
and two others tendered to him one in this our new
world were set aside by him, he did not, in power
forget, so far as he was free to act, his early pledges.
His career in France was rapid and brilliant. In
1796, he was the French embassador at Rome sub-
sequently a member of the Council of Five Hundred,
and in 1800, a counselor of state, in which capacity
he concluded a commercial treaty between France and
the United States. He was the plenipotentiary who
signed the treaty of Luneville, which gave peace t<?
the continent of Europe in 1801 and the treaty of
peace with England at Amiens in 1802.
When the empire arose, Napoleon being without
nale issue, Joseph and his brother Louis, and their
descendants, were looked to as the successors of the
Emperor ; and then it was that Napoleon first required
that Joseph, so distinguished in civil and diplomatic
life, should put on the harness of the soldier. He
insisted that one to whom the succession might fall,
should be versed in military, ae well as in civil conduct,
and accordingly, Joseph became colonel of a regiment
in the famous camp of Boulogne.
While there, the crown of Lombardy was offered to
him, bat he refused it because the Emperor made it a
-THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
condition of acceptance, that he should renounce his
claim to the succession of the empire, and moreover
that he should pay an annual tribute to France.
In 1806, at the head of an army of 40,000 men, he
was commissioned to overthrow the English and Rus-
sian domination in Naples, and the throne of Queen
Caroline. He easily and rapidly effected the conquest,
and his own brow bore the crown which he had con-
quered. His brief reign of two years was a succession
of benefits to a people who had been long degraded
by a most oppressive despotism. He founded civil
and military schools, some of which yet exist over-
threw feudal privileges suppressed the convents
opened new roads caused the paupers of Naples to
work and be paid drained marshes and every-
where animated with new life and hope a people long
sunk in abject servitude. Joseph was here in his ele-
ment, for he loved to do good.
From these scenes, so congenial to him, he was
called by the Emperor in 1808, to Bayonne, and there
the crown of Spain was forced upon him. In this new
sphere he strove to adhere to his previous course, and
by mildness and persuasion and benefits conferred, to
conciliate the affection of Spain. He even besought
the Emperor to withdraw all the French troops, trust-
ing by frank and loyal conduct toward the Spaniards,
to obtain their confidence and support. His request
was not acceded to, and the hatred and jealousy of
foreigners, which mark the Spanish character, exasper-
ated by the clergy and encouraged by the presence of
a large English army, rendered all Joseph's efforts for
a peaceful success, such as he had accomplished in
JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 317
Naples, impossible. He was obliged to be the soldier
and although worsted in the event, he gave in the vari-
ous battle-fields where he was present, decisive indica-
tions of courage and conduct. Wearied with a fruitless
struggle which promised no opportunity for the exar-
cise of the kindly plans he alone desired to carry out
in his new kingdom, he wrote to the Emperor on the
23d of March, 1812, from Madrid, earnestly asking
permission to resign the crown that four years beiv.ro
had been imposed upon him.^ In that letter he says :
"I have done no good and have no hope of doing any.
In accepting the crown I had no other object in view
than the promotion of the happiness of this great mon-
archy. It has not been in my power to accomplish it.
I therefore ask to be received by your majesty as a
simple subject." Permission was refused, but the for-
tune of war drove Joseph from his crown and king-
dom, and he was once more in France. The reverses
of 1813-14, had overtaken French triumphs; the
capital was menaced ; Napoleon, with the fragment of
his victorious armies, was maneuvering between the
Marne and the Seine, with the hope of covering Paris
but the overwhelming number of the adversary ren-
derod success hopeless. From Rheims, on the 16th of
March, 1814, he wrote to Joseph, to whom, on leaving
Paris, he confided the defense of the capital, and the
care of the Empress and her son recalling to him
and renewing his verbal instruction not to permit
either Maria L",iisa or the King of Rome to fall into
the hands of the enemy. In this letter he says em-
phatically " Quit not my son, and remember, 1 would
rather knew him to be in the Seine, than in the hands
318 THK BONAPAKTE FAMILY.
of the enemies of France. The fortune of Astyanax
prisoner of the Greeks, has always appeared to me the
most melancholy fortune recorded in history."
After the abdication of Napoleon, Joseph retired to
Lausanne. Soon the events of the hundred days found
him again in Paris, and again deeply trusted by his
brother. With the final downfall of Napoleon, Joseph's
public career terminated. He came to the United
States and established himself at Bordentown, on the
Delaware, living the life of a gentleman of accom-
plished education, refined taste, and liberal hospitality.
Here, under the title of Count of Survilliers, he con-
tinued to reside for many years. While Napoleon
lived, he still hoped after he died, and while his son
Btill lived, yet did he continue to hope and when the
Revolution of 1830 burst forth in Paris, he addressed
from New York an eloquent protest to the Chamber of
Deputies, against their assuming to place on the throne,
without consulting the nation, any other family than
that of Bonaparte. "Napoleon, (said he,) was called
to the throne by three millions five hundred thousand
votes ; if the nation thinks right to make another
choice, it has the right, but it alone. Napoleon H.
was proclaimed by the Chambers in 1815, which re-
cognized in him a right conferred by the nation. I
accept for him all the modifications discussed by that
Chamber, which was rudely dissolved by foreign bay-
onets." The protest was unheeded. The younger
branch of the Bourbons was placed on the throne; and
still, as under the older branch, the name and family
rf Bonaparte were proscribed from the soil of France.
Abandoning, thenceforth, not his interest for the
JOSEPH BONJLPABTB. 319
nonor and welfare of France, but all expectation of
being permitted to contribute thereto himself, he passed
his days in tranquillity on the banks of the Delaware.
It was in this retirement that a deputation of leading
men from Mexico sought him out, and tendered to
him a crown in the new world, which, without hesita-
tion, he put aside. The former King of Naples and
of Spain, replied as follows to the deputation which
offered him the crown of Mexico : "I have worn twc
crowns; I would not take a step to wear a third
Nothing can gratify me more than to see men who
would not recognize my authority when I was at
Madrid, now come to seek me in exile, that I may be
at their head ; but I do not think that the throne you
wish to raise again can make your happiness ; every
day that I pass in the hospitable land of the United
States, proves more clearly to me the excellence of
republican institutions for America. Keep them, then,
as a precious gift from heaven ; settle your internal
commotions ; follow the example of the United States;
and seek among your fellow-citizens for a man more
capable than I am of acting the great part of "Wash-
ington." In 1839, family affairs required his presence
in Europe. In 1840, an attack of apoplexy smote his
previously vigorous health and fine faculties ; and lan-
guishing from the effects of that, and finally permitted,
" An old man, broken by the storms of state,"
to visit Florence, in the hope of benefit from its genial
climate, he there breathed his last with his latest
breath invoking blessings on that country which had
rewarded his services with twenty-nine years of exile.
In the United States, Joseph was known only by his
320 THE BONAPARTK FAMILY.
benefactions. Of most amiable and courteous man
iiers, with admirable conversational powers, which he
was fond of indulging and without any of the pre-
tensions with which his career might have inspired a
mind less evenly balanced, he moved among the
people a well-bred gentleman, a kind and generous
neighbor, a inost agreeable and instructive companion;
a man of head and heart unspoiled by the loftiest
honors of the world, and unsoured by i.ts reverses.
Joseph Bonaparte had two daughters: the elder,
Z6naide, was married to her cousin, Charles Bona-
parte, son of Lucicn ; the younger, Charlotte, was
married to her cousin, Xapoleon Louis, son of Louis
Bonaparte and Hortense. Her husband died March
17, 1831.
Lucien, Napoleon's second brother, was born in
1775. The effective assistance which he rendered to
Napoleon on some of the most important occasions in
the earlier period of his career, and the misunder-
standing which, at a later period, took place between
these two brothers, render Lucien an object of much
interest. Tlte political career of Lucien may be said
to have commenced in 1797, although he had previ
onsly held several important civil and military ap-
pointments. Although he had not completed his
twenty-third year, he had so distinguished himself ae
to be nominated a member of the Council of Five Hun-
dred by the doctors of the Liamone, his native deparr-
ment. His first appearance in the tribune was in Julj 1
1798. At that time the revolutionary party, in its war
fare upon Christianity, was endeavoring to abolish the
Sabbath, and a law was proposed I <ompel tradesmen
LUCIEN nONAPARTK. 321
to keep open their shops except on every tenth day
Upon this occasion Lucien advocated the cause of
Christianity. "Tolerance, (said he,) is the sister of
liberty ; persecution the daughter of tyranny. What
right have we to prevent a citizen from celebrating
any day which may be indicated by his profession of
faith? At Rome, an Israelite is not forced to work on
a Saturday ; and shall we, the representatives of a free
people, afford less scope for the unshackled exercise of
religion than the sovereign pontiff?"
"When, in September, 1790, the debates took place
on the motion of General Jourdan, for declaring the
country in danger, Lucien opposed it with much talent
and ingenuity. He declared, that the only mode of
surmounting the crisis was, by intrusting a great ex-
tent of power to the executive authority. He, how-
ever, thought it his duty to combat the idea of a
dictatorship. ''Is there one among us, (he cried.) who
would not arm himself with the poniard of Brutus, and
chastise the base and ambitious enemy of his coun-
try?" After this, Lucien, on several occasions, distin
guished himself in the Council of Five Hundred ; and
although he had hitherto affected much republican
zeal, he opposed the reviving influence of the demo-
crats. Notwithstanding the interruption of the com-
munication between Toulon and Alexandria, there is
little doubt that he found means of announcing to his
brother in Egypt the unsatisfactory state of parties in
Paris, and the dreadful disasters which had taken
place on the frontiers. In the mean time, the eight-
eenth of " Brumaire" was drawing on, and Lucien
succeeded in being elected to the presidency of
21
322 fOt BONAPARTE FAMILY.
th B Council of Five Hundred a circumstance highly
favorable to his views.
On Napoleon's return to France, Lucien presided at
all the private meetings preparatory to the Revolution
of Brumaire, (9th November, 1799.) On that memora-
ble day, when the legislative body held the extraordi-
nary sitting at St. Cloud, he exerted every effort to
stay the opposition which manifested itself against hia
brother; and when Napoleon entered unarmed into
the council, he firmly opposed the sentence of outlawry
called for against him. " Can you ask me, (he cried,)
to put the outlawry of my own brother to the vote?"
Finding this appeal to his personal situation and feel-
ings to make no impression upon the Assembly, he
flung on the desk his hat, scarf, and other insignia of
his office. "Let me be rather heard, (he said,) as the
advocate of him whom you falsely and rashly accuse."
At this moment, a small party of guards, sent by Na-
poleon to his assistance, marched into the hall and
carried him out. Lucien mounted on horseback, and
called out, in a voice naturally deep and sonorous,
"General Bonaparte, and you, soldiers ! the president
of the Council of Five Hundred announces to you,
that factious men, with daggers, have interrupted the
deliberations of the Assembly. He authorizes you to
employ force against these disturbers. The Assembly
of Five Hundred is dissolved." De Bourrienne, who
was present, tells us, that perceiving a slight hesitation
on the part of the troops, Lucien, drawing his sword,
added, "I swear that I will plunge this into the bosom
of my own brother, if he should ever aim a blow fit the
iberties of France."
LCCIKH BO.NAPAKTR. 323
To Lucien the success of this memorable day may
in no inconsiderable degree, be attributed. The port-
folio of the minister of the interior was the reward of
his services ; and though he had scarcely attained his
tweuty-lifth year, his administration acquired a charac-
ter of energy and elevation which commanded respect
By great vigilance and close attention to certain mys-
teries of office, he contrived to make up for that pro-
found knowledge which he had not had time to acquire.
Ilis official duties were discharged "vith firmness and
activity ; and without any sacrifice of personal conse-
quence, he knew how to assume the most amiable
suavity of manners toward individuals of all classes,
lie was the friend of public instruction, and the patron
of science and the arts. While he was minister of the
interior, Lucien lost his wife, Christine Boyer. She is
said to have been a woman of a mild disposition,
amiable manners, and great goodness of heart. He
caused a handsome monument to be erected to her
memory, on which is the following simple inscrip-
tion : "A daughter wife and mother without
reproach ! "
Distinguished as were the services which Lucien had
performed for the First Consul, the two brothers did
not long continue on brotherly terms. Lucien soon
found it necessary to resign his position at the capital
and accept the appointment of envoy to Spain, where
he w.i.e extren ely successful in promoting the ambi-
tions views of Napoleon. Upon his return from this
mission, Lucien took a step which was highly offen-
sive to Napoleon, by marrying the widow of an ex-
change-broker, named Juberthou, who "for greater
324
THE BONAPARTE FAMU.Y.
convenience, (observes De .Bourrie^ano, significantly,)
had been dispatched to the West Indies, where, in the
course of a couple of months, the yellow lever snatched
him from the cares of this transitory life." This inar-
riaye was a severe blow to the system of Napoleon,
who contemplated nothing less than royal alliaLces fur
all the branches of his family. When assured of the
fact by the curate who had performed the ceremony at
the Hotel de Brienne, he fell into a violent rage, and
from that moment determined never to make Lucien a
prince of France, on account of what he termed his
unequal match.
The old misunderstanding was now revived with
increased bitterness ; and to such lengths were matters
carried, that Lucien formed a sort of league against
his brother in his own family. Directions were given,
that Napoleon's nanie should never be mentioned by
his household, and the family portraits were taken
down and consigned to the lumber-room. The only
one that escaped the proscription, was that of his
mother. He was shortly after commanded to leave
the French teiritory.
In April, 3804, only a few weeks previous to the
change of the government from consular to imperial,
Lucien quitted Paris. The conjuncture was, in one
respect, favorable to his reputation ; since it created a
general impression, that the cause of his disgrace was
his opposition to his brother's ambitious policy an
impression which Lucien, of course, was not very
anxious to weaken He proceeded to Milan; but, on
Nr.poleon's arriving there, to place on his brow the
i ron, crown of Lombardy , he removed to Pesaro ; and.
LUC1EN BONAPARTE. 325
in 1805, to Koine, where the pope treated him with
marked attention and kindness.
After the treaty of Tilsit, in June, 1807, an attempt
was made by Joseph to reconcile the brothers. An
interview was arranged at Mantua, but no accommo-
dation resulted tLerefrom. Lucien was willing to com-
ply with certain conditions proposed by the Emperor,
among which was the marriage of his daughter to the
prince of the Asturias ; but, to his great honor, he re-
fused to repudiate his wife. " Separate from her, (said
Napoleon,) for a time, and we shall see what can be
done." " Not for an hour ! " rejoined Lucien.
When, in the early part of 1808, Napoleon resolved
upon dethroning the Spanish Bourbons, it was his wish
to have made Lucien king of Spain ; but Lucien, who
had so recently resided in Spain, and knew the Spanish
character, and who was at this time living at- Home,
happy in his family and in his pursuits, declined, with-
out hesitation, the proffered elevation. In the follow-
ing April, while at his country-seat, near Frascati, (the
same that belonged to Cicero,) and to which Lucien had
restored its original name of Tusculum, he received a
letter from his brother Joseph, then king of Naples,
recommending him to leave the papal territories with-
out delay, as they no longer afforded him an asylum.
He retired to an estate which he had recently pur-
chased at Canino twenty-five leagues from the capital.
Here all his attention seemed directed to agricultural
and rural pursuits, for which he had always manifested
much fondness. Dressed in a coarse woollen coat and
thick shoes, he would pass whole days in superintend-
ing the laborers. He established foundries and iroa
THE BONAPAKTK FAMILY.
works, arid the whole country assumed new life and
vigor. While Lucien was thus laudably occupied, far
other objects engrossed the attention of his imperial
brother. In May, 1809, he issued his first decree, de-
claring the temporal sovereignty of the pope to be at
an end, and incorporating Rome with the French em-
pire. Lucien, now considering himself no longer safe
in the papal dominions, left Canino, on the 1st of
August, 1810, intending to proceed to the United
States. But the vessel in which he embarked was cap-
tured by the British cruisers, and he was sent to Eng-
land. There he occupied his time in writing an epic
poein on the subject of Charlemagne. His ambition
seemed now to be confined to the attainment of a dis-
tinguished rank in literature, and to be numbered
among the eminent poets of France.
.Restored to personal liberty by the peace of Paris,
in 1814, Lucien returned to Italy, where the pope con-
ferred on him the dignity of a Roman prince, with the
title of Prince of Canino. Thus it would appear that
Lucien 's fortune had acquired fresh strength by the
recent events, gaining in stability what it might have
lost in grandeur ; while that of Napoleon, lately so
gigantic, was now limited to the possession of u little
island, scarcely acknowledged as a part of that empire
which he had shaken to its foundation. This astound-
ing reverse sensibly affected Lucien. He tendered his
brother his fortune and his services ; and while the
latter was at Elba, a full reconciliation was effected,
through the mediation of their mother and their sister
Pauline.
In 1815, as soon as Lucien bad beard of Napoleon's
LCCIEN BONAPARTK. 327
escape from Elba, he wrote him a letter of congratula-
tion. " Your return, (he said.) tills up the measure of
your military glory ; but there is another glory still
greater- civil glory. The sentiments and intentions
which you have solemnly promulgated promise France
that you know how to acquire it." When Napoleon,
apparently paralyzed by the unexpected reverses at
Waterloo, betrayed symptoms of irresolution, Lucien
did all he could to reanimate his drooping spirits.
" You give up the game, (he said,) without having lost
it. The death of thirty thousand men cannot decide
the fate of France." Finding his brother still unde-
termined, he remarked to his secretary, that "The
smoke of Waterloo had turned his brain."
The second abdication obliged Lucien to retire to
his sister Pauline's chateau at Neuilly, where he pro-
pared to leave France. While Napoleon was at St.
Helena, Lucien's mind and heart were incessantly di-
rected to that spot. He applied to the British govern-
ment to be allowed to proceed thither, and to reside
there two years, with or without his wife and children;
engaging not to occasion any augmentation of expense,
and promising to submit to every restriction imposed
on his brother, or that might be imposed upon himself,
but his application was peremptorily denied. During
the remainder of his life, Lucien Bonaparte was heard
of merely as a Roman nobleman of taste ; at once a
patron of literature and an aspirant for literary honors.
His great epic of " Charlemagne," on which he spent
many years, was published in two ponderous quartos,
but f'aiii-i! to procure him the laurels he coveted
Liis principal literary attempts, in addition to the
328 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
" Charlemagne," were a poem on Corsican history,
called " Cyrneide ; " a defense of Napoleon ; and a
volume of his own memoirs.
During the last ten or twelve years of his lite, he
found a new and congenial occupation in the collection
of Etruscan remains. The estate of Canino being a
portion of the extensive tract of country that the Etrus-
cans had once occupied in Italy, it might have been
.anticipated that it would be found to contain ancient
tombs, such as had been already discovered in other
parts of the Roman States, near the known sites of
pristine Etruscan cities. It was not, however, till the
year 1828, that, in consequence of the accidental ex-
posure of one such tomb in a field, systematic excava-
tions were commenced on the estate, with a view to
exhaust it of its Etruscan antiquities. From that time
forward the prince, and in his absence, the princess,
zealously prosecuted the work, employing workmen
to dig continually in various parts of the estate ; and
the result was the accumulation at Canino of a vast
number of vases, bronzes, and other relics, forming a
museum of Etruscan antiquities, superior, in some
respects, to any that existed in Italy. The name of
the Prince of Canino became known in all the anti-
quarian circles of Europe ; travelers in Italy used to
visit his museum ; and at one or two balls in Rome,
the princess created quite a sensation by appearing in
a magnificent set of ornaments that had been taken
from the ancient tombs on her husband's estate.
Dying at Yiterbo, in June, 1840, at the age of sixty-
five, the Prince of Canino left a'numerous family of
children, of various ages. Two daughters, the issue
LOUIS BONAPAKTE. 829
f his first marriage, had been married, the ono to an
Italian, the prince Gabrielli ; the other, first to a Swed-
ish count, and afterward, in 1824, to an Englishman,
Lord Dudley Stuart. Of his children by the second
marriage, there survived four sons and four daughters.
One of the daughters, Laetitia, born in 1804, became
the wife of an Irish gentleman, and member of Parlia-
ment, Mr. Thomas Wyse. The sons, all of whom are
still alive, have distinguished themselves in various
ways. The eldest, Charles Lucien, styled until his
father's death, Prince de Musignano, and afterward
Prince of Canino and Musignano, was born in 1803,
and married, in 1822, his cousin Charlotte, one of the
daughters whom Joseph Bonaparte had left in Eu-
rope. Selecting a path that had not yet been trodden
by any member of his versatile family, he devoted
himself from the first to natural history, in which
science he soon attained eminence. Crossing the
Atlantic after his marriage, on a visit to his father-in-
law, he took the opportunity of making himself ac-
quainted with the ornithology of America ; and was
able, after a year or two, to produce as the result of
his rifle-practice, many new birds not figured by his
predecessor, Wilson. Devoting himself with similar
assiduity, after his return, to the zoological illustration
of Italy, he gave to the world in 1841, a magnifi-
cent work in three folio volumes, containing, under
the name of " Iconografia della Fauna Italica," per-
haps the most detailed and elaborate account of the
animals of the Peninsula, that has yet been attempted.
Louis, the third brother of Napoleon, was born
September 2, 1778. When, in 1794, Napoleon joined
330 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
the army of Italy, Louis accompanied him, and, al-
though but little more than fifteen years of age, evinced
the coolness and courage of a veteran. The first time
he was led into an engagement, Louis, far from be-
traying any astonishment, was anxious to serve as a
rampart to his brother.
While the enemy were keeping up a brisk fire of
artillery, Louis placed himself before Napoleon, as he
proceeded along the outside of the intrenchments, for
the purpose of examining them ; and in this position
he continued during the whole of the inspection. On
another occasion, being in a battery, against which
the enemy kept up a well-directed fire, he remained
always standing with his head erect, although the
gunners were taking all possible pains to shelter
themselves from the enemy. Napoleon asked him the
reason ; he answered : " You have told me, that an
artillery officer should never be afraid of cannon.
They are our arms I follow your example." Louis
was little more than seventeen when he a second time
joined the army of Italy, then commanded by his
brother; to whom, though he had only the rank of
lieutenant, he was appointed aid-de-camp. At this
early stage of his career, he was an observant and
silent character. He felt, he remarks, a vacuity of
heart and a sentiment of deep regret, at seeing himself
impelled into a career of troublesome ambition. He
already sighed for retirement and a peaceful occupa-
tion. He was in nearly all the battles in Italy, dis-
charging all the duties of his station with scrupulous
exactitude ; but he had no ambition for military dis-
tinction. At the memorable battle of Arcola, which
LOUIS BONAPABTE. 331
lasted three days, he was frequently exposed, during
the hottest period of the attack, to imminent peril. The
brave Lannes fell wounded by his side ; and Na-
poleon's horse having sunk with him in a morass,
Louis succeeded in getting hold of one of his brother's
bands ; but not being sufficiently strong, he was drawn
along with him, and both must have perished, had not
Marmont, with two subalterns, extricated them from
their perilous situation. This took place on the first
day. On the second, Louis was charged with impor-
tant orders from the general-in-chief to General Kob-
ert, and being the only person on horseback, he was
marked out by the enemy, and exposed for a long
time to their fire. On regaining his brother, Napoleon
expressed a feeling of surprise and joy at seeing
him: "I believed you dead," said he; and his death
had been actually announced to him by some of the
grenadiers.
Louis accompanied his brother to Egypt, in 1778,
and was from that time usually with the army until
the year 1806 his unhappy marriage with Hortense,
in 1802, causing him to remain more constantly with
his regiment than was otherwise necessary. In 1806,
Holland, exhausted by dissensions and internal strug-
gles, threw itself into the arms of France, and asked
for a prince from the family of Napoleon, who might
preside over its destinies. Embassadors from the
Dutch people came to offer the throne of Holland to
Louis ; " We come," said they, " of our own free ac-
cord, supported by the suffrages of nine-tenths of our
fellow-citizens, to entreat you to join your fate with
ours, and save a whole people from the dangers which
332 TBS BONAPABTE FAJ4ILT,
threaten them." Louis was really unwilling to accept
the proffered honor, but founded his objection on the
ground that the climate was unfavorable to his health.
" Better to die as a king than live as a prince," was
the characteristic reply of Napoleon. On the 5th ol
June, 1806, Louis was proclaimed kiog of Holland,
and set out in hopes of finding, in his solicitude for the
public interests and in the labors of administration,
exemption from the melancholy, which slowly under-
mined his constitution. Faithful, above all, in his
immovable attachment to duty, he devoted himself
entirely to the well-being of the country, which Provi-
dence had committed to his charge; and when cir-
cumstances placed him in a situation in which he was
obliged to choose between his duties as a king and his
affection to his family, he never hesitated to range
himself on the side of duty. He gave himself up with
enthusiasm to the hope of being useful to two millions
of men, and resolved to devote himself to their happi-
ness. He remained a week in St. Leu, and during
that time endeavored to gain from the deputation a
general notion of the state of the country over which
he was about to rule. Finding its treasury empty,
and that France owed it $1,000,000, lent to the French
governors of the colonies in the East Indies, he de-
manded of the Emperor the repayment of it, but
without success. On reaching his capital his first care
was to form a ministry. He inquired into the integ-
rity and merit of individuals, and on these he founded
his confidence. To the several addresses presented to
him, he replied, " that from the moment he set foot on
the 8<i il, he had become a Dutchman*" He promised
LOUIS BONAPAETK. 388
to protect justice, as he would protect commerce, by
throwing the access to it open, and removing every
thing that might impede it "With me, (he said,)
there shall be no different religions no different par-
ties ; merit and service shall form the sole ground ol
distinction."
The necessities of his treasury demanding immediate
attention, he dispatched an individual to Paris, to in-
form his brother that unless he liquidated the debt due
to Holland, took the French troops into his own pay,
and lessened the naval force, he would instantly abdi-
cate; meantime, without waiting for an answer, he
gave directions for such reductions of expenditure as
it was in his power to make.
He soon perceived that the government of Holland
must found its chief support on public opinion. He
set about drawing up in silence, the plan of a constitu-
tion, of the most simple description, alike suited to the
tastes and habits of his subjects ; and he took steps
for obtaining a uniform civil and criminal code, which
should unite the principles of justice with those of
humanity. He also appointed two committees, com-
posed of the ablest professors and men of letters, to
draw up a uniform system of weights and measures;
and though the good he thus intended was not at-
tained during his reign, it has since been carried into
complete effect. Besides these, Louis projected sundry
ameliorations connected with the health of his subject*
and the salubrity of the country. He enlarged the
public libraries, encouraged the fine arts, founded a
General Institution of Arts and Sciences, and created
the order of Union and Merit, selecting for its device
THE BONAPABTE FAMILY.
the Dutch maxim, "Doe wel en zie met om" "Dc
what you ought, happen what may."
In January, 1807, a shock like that of an earthquake
was felt at the Hague, and a light in the horizon an-
nounced a terrible fire in the direction of Leyden.
Louis happened to be on his way thither, when he was
informed that a vessel laden with gunpowder had
blown up in the center of the city. On his arrival, he
was horror-struck at the spectacle that presented itself
Eight hundred houses had been leveled with the
ground ; and with their fall, numerous families, while
enjoying the repast of dinner, were precipitated into
eternity fathers, mothers, children, and domestics,
all were hurried to a promiscuous grave. Every win-
dow in the place was dashed to atoms, and thus the
bread, flour, and other necessaries of life were rendered
dangerous and useless, by the showers of powdered
glass that fell in all directions.
Attended by the magistrates, Louis traversed the
scene of desolation. He ascended the ruins, mixed
with the laborers, visited the wounded, promised a
reward to every one who succeeded in rescuing a
fellow-creature from beneath the rubbish, and did not
quit the spot till daybreak of the following morning.
He sent off to the principal towns for succors of all
kinds, and ordered his palace in the wood, between
Leyden and the Hague, to be thrown open to those
respectable families whom the accident had left house-
less. On afterward receiving the thanks of the magis-
trates, he returned a most benignant answer. "The
dead," said he, "I cannot restore to you ; that is above
human power ; but all that I can I will do for you.
LCUTS BONAPABTE. 835
city." Louis kept his word. He proposed to the
legislative body the measures necessary for its restora-
tion ; directed a general subscription to be set on foot,
which was so productive, that the inhabitants were
indemnified for their pecuniary losses; and decreed
that Ley den should become the seat of the Royal
University.
Again, 1809, when a sudden inundation spread
desolation over several districts, Louis was on the spot,
performing the same beneficent offices. He traversed
the whole of it during two days and a night, visited
every village, consoled and encouraged the inhabit-
ants, and promptly rewarded those who most exposed
themselves to danger.
At the close of 1806, the famous Berlin decree was
enacted, prohibiting all intercourse with England, and
Louis was required to enforce it in Holland. He
could not avoid taking some analogous steps, but
he would not re-enact the decree. On complaints
being made, that a contraband traffic was carrying
on, Louis coolly replied, "EmpSchez done la peau de
transpirer!" "You might as well forbid the skin to
perspire ! "
When Napoleon was making arrangements to take
possession of Spain, he conceived the design of trans-
ferring Louis to the throne of that country. He ac-
cordingly addressed a letter to him, in March, 1808,
in which he opened his plan, intimating, among other
things, that the climate of Holland was unfavorable
to his health. "Tell me categorically," he said, "if
I make you king of Spain, will you agree to it!
me yes or no," Tbe surprise <?f L<,uiB, QU
339 THE BONAPABTE FAMILY.
receiving so impolitic, unjust, and shameful a j reposi-
tion, was only equaled by his indignation: "I am
not the governor of a province," he said : "for a king
there is no promotion but to heaven ; they are all
equal ; with what face can I demand an oath of
fidelity from another people, if I am unfaithful to that
which I have taken to the Dutch?" His answer was
a direct refusal ; and the throne of Spain was given to
Joseph.
As Louis defended Holland against the ever-increas
ing encroachments of his brother, a dispute ensued
between them. Louis was ordered to Paris, where it
was with the greatest difficulty that he effected a pro-
longation of the existence of the Dutch state. July 1,
1810, he abdicated in favor of his eldest son, and left
Holland, accompanied by two friends, and, under the
title of Count of St. Leu, repaired to the baths of
Teplitz, where he devoted himself to literature, and
wrote several works. He lived a retired life, endeav-
oring to re-e'stablish his health. Immediately after
his abdication, he separated from Queen Hortense, and
they never afterward lived together, though no formal
divorce had been sought by either party. The educa-
tion of the children was yielded to Hortense. Louis
finally settled in Italy, where he engaged in literary
pursuits. Among the works he gave to the world was
a novel entitled "Marie," in the style and story of
which may be discerned the expression of the author's
own griefs, and still abiding melancholy ; a collection
of poetical and historical documents relating to Hol-
land ; an essay on versification ; a number of poems
\nd finally, in 1829, a critique on Sir Walter Scott's
JEKOME BONAPAETE, 837
Life of Napoleon. Until his deatL, which occurred
in 1846, at the age of sixty-six, he lived in extreme
seclusion.
Jerome, the youngest of Napoleon's brothers, was
born December 15, 1784. At the age of fifteen, he
entered the navy. In 1801 he was appointed to the
command of a small sloop of war, and employed in
the expedition to St. Domingo, commanded by his
brother-in-law, General Le Clerc. In 1802 he re-
turned to Paris. In the same year he visited Brest,
launching into extravagances, contracting debts which
he had not the means to pay, and drawing on his
brother's secretary, for sums which the First Consul
discharged with much reluctance. One of his letters,
in particular, excited Napoleon's anger : it was filled
with accounts of the entertainments he was giving
and receiving, and concluded that he had drawn for
several thousand dollars. To this, Bonaparte wrote
the following reply: "I have seen your letter, and
am impatient to hear that you are on board your
frigate, studying a profession intended to be the means
of your glory. Die young, and I shall have some
consolation ; but if you live to sixty, without having
served your country and leaving behind you any
honorable recollections, you had better not have been
born." Jerome never realized the wishes and ex-
pectations of his brother. On the receipt of this
letter, he set sail for Martinique, and resided, while
there, with Madame de la Pagerie, the mother of
Josephine. In 1803, on the resumption of hostilities
between England and France, he had frequent oppor-
tunities of distinguishing himself ; but, after cruising
22
338 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
for a few mouths, he thought proper to put into
New York, where he passed in dissipation that time
which, it was expected lie would have employed in
facing tiie enemy. Toward the close of the year, he
married Misa Elizabeth Patterson, the daughter of
a rich merchant of Baltimore. lie remained in
America until the spring of 1805, when he embarked
for Europe. Landing at Lisbon, he proceeded by land
to Paris, directing the ship to proceed to Amsterdam,
from which place he intended his wife should follow
him, as soon as he had obtained the requisite permis-
sion from his imperial brother. On her arrival, how
ever, Madame Jerome Bonaparte, not being permitted
to go on shore, thought it advisable to trust herself to
the English. She accordingly landed at Dover, took
up her residence during the summer at Camberwell,
and in the autumn returned to her native country.
Hitherto, Jerome had displayed no want of affection
for his American wife a lady distinguished alike for
her beauty and her talents. On the conclusion of the
peace of Tilsit, Napoleon having represented to him
that the branches of the imperial family were not en-
titled to enter into alliances according to the dictates
of their own feelings, but were bound to form such as
were most suitable to his policy, Jerome was tempted
to sacrifice the connection which his heart had chosen,
and become the tool of his brother's overweening am-
bHion. The better to secure his influence in Germany,
Napoleon demanded in marriage for him a daughter
of the Elector of Saxony ; but as that princess wouM
not listen to the proposal, another was immedinu i y
fought after, On the 12th. of August, 1807j Jcumw
J1CSOME BONAPARTE. 339
espoused the Princess Frederica Catharina, daughter
of the King of Wurtemberg, and, a few days alter,
was proclaimed King of Westphalia. On the 7th of
December, a decree was issued, containing, in four
pages, the constitution of the new kii gdom ; by an
article of which, in default of legal descendants of
King Jerome, the throne was to devolve on Napoleon
or his heirs. It was published on tbe 15th, the new
monarch's birthday, who had then completed his
twenty-second year.
Jerome had no lack of common sense. Where he
was not imposed on by intriguers, but was left to pur-
sue the dictates of his heart, he generally took the
right course; and had his ministers united a turn
for business with integrity and a knowledge of the
world, lie might have become popular ; but, from the
individuals whom he had collected around him, it was
soon very evident that his government would not be
a wise one. Volatile as a boy just escaped from
school, he had a passion for imitating, in public, the
*omp and state of his imperial brother; but, shut
up within the walls of his palace, he would give loose
to all the idle gayeties of childhood, down "to the
taking part in a game at leapfrog with his courtiers.
On his arrival at Cassel, he had the mortification to
find his treasury empty. Jerome applied to one Isaac
Jacobson, a Jew banker, who obligingly advanced him
$400,000 at a reasonable interest. Jerome was not
ungrateful. A few days after he had received the
moneys, a deputation from the Jews residing at West-
phalia, consisting partly of rabbis and partly of olden,
Were introduced to him by Jacobson, who was their
84:0 THB BONAPARTE FAMILY
pokesman on the occasion ; and the following was tne
royal reply : "I am satisfied with your speech. The
article in the constitution of my kingdom which estab-
lishes the equality of all religions is in unison with the
feelings of my heart. The law ought to interrupt no
one in the exercise of his worship. Each subject is as
much at liberty to observe the rules of his faith, as the
king is to follow his religion. The duties of the citi-
zen are the only objects which the laws of the govern-
ment can regulate. I trust I shall never have reason
to regret what I am doing in favor of your people."
Westphalia became, indeed, a sort of land of promise
for the Tribes of Israel. Individuals with long beards
were seen in all the public offices. The minister of
state was a Jew ; the counselor of finances (the afore-
mentioned Jacobson) was a Jew ; the commissary at
war was a Jew ; the superintendent of hospitals was a
Jew ; the barrack-master was a Jew.
Cassel now presented a most singular spectacle.
Around the dissolute a-nd extravagant court crowded a
host of rapacious foreigners and idle hangers-on, of
both sexes and of every age and condition. Unlike
his brother Louis, Jerome affected to despise the na
tive manners of his subjects, and would not even give
himself the trouble to learn their language. This lux-
ury and dissipation of the court had only an influence
on the habits of the people ; but the proscription of the
national language in public acts mortified their self-
love, and inflicted a deep wound on their feelings.
As the French were to be imitated in every thing,
a revolution in German manners and German morals
sought to be effected by Parisian boys of twentj
JEROME BONAPARTE. 341
and courtiers grown gray in profligacy. Jerome, &\
on.e time, was seized with the mania for building. He
ordered a part of the town to be pulled down ; and as
German activity could not keep pace with his im-
patience, he summoned an architect from Paris, who
would soon have transformed the royal city into an-
other Babylon, if the resources of the treasury had
corresponded with the vast conceptions of his genius.
The labor of the morning was frequently destroyed
in the evening, because, when the job was completed,
Jerome fancied it was not done in good taste. He
would say, "I will have this done to-night ; 1 expect
to find that finished by the morning ; " and four or five
hundred workmen were often seen toiling by torch-
light to execute the supreme command. Contractors
and architects found their account in the frivolity
and caprice of the royal spendthrift.
In 1812, when his revelings were at their height, ho
received an unexpected summons from his brother, to
attend him in the Russian expedition ; but as his mili-
tary movements were unfortunate, he was ordered to
return home. To conceal his mortification, he shut
himself up with his favorites, and sought to dissipate
his chagrin by a train of frivolous amusements. In
the following year on the evacuation of Germany by
the French, Jerome's own subjects rose up against
him, and forced him to abandon his capital. Jerome
took refuge in France, accompanied by the amiable
princess his wife, whose attachment seemed to increase
with her husband's reverses. On the abdication of
Napoleon, in April, 1814, they were compelled to
quit Paris. Jerome was at Trieste when his brothel
349
retnrned from Elba. Though closely watched by the
Austrian government, he contrived to escape to Paris.
He soon after set off for the army with the Emperor.
He fought at Waterloo, where he displayed much
ability and courage, exclaiming, "We ought to die
here! we can die no where better than herel" it
was to him that Napoleon left the task of collecting
the wreck of the French army after the defeat.
After the second abdication, Jerome quitted Paris,
and, assuming a disguise, wandered about from place to
place, until at length he obtained permission from his
father-in-law, the King of Wurtemberg, to join his wife.
In February, 1816, the king conferred on him the title
of Count de Montfort, still not allowing him to appear
at court, or enjoy unrestrained liberty. Jerome, how-
ever, two years afterward, obtained leave to settle in
the Austrian dominions.
Of all Napoleon's brothers, Jerome was unquestion-
ably the least indebted to nature. He has been truly
described as a good-natured, silly, unprincipled volup-
tuary ; whose only wish was to enjoy the sensual grat-
ifications of royalty, without submitting to its toils,
tut, at the same time, without any natural inclination
to exercise its rigors. His subjects were accustomed to
call him " Heliogabalus in miniature." Notwithstand-
ing the bustle and splendor which he created among
them, the Hessians most cordially detested him and
his whole crew of corrupters and squanderers. Na-
poleon they feared and cursed ; Jerome they despised
and laughed at. When, on his flight, he carried off
the public treasures, and even the furniture of the pal-
ace, they were thunderstruck, *'not at the meannesi
JEEOiEE BuNAP/LRTE. 34:3
of the thing, but at the possibility of King Jerome
possessing so much foresight! "
There is, however, one evidence in Jerome's favor,
of which it would be unjust to deprive him. On the
downfall of Napoleon, the King of Wurtemberg tried
hard to prevail on his daughter to separate from her
husband. The princess, who clung with true female
constancy to her disgraced husband, in reply to her
father's solicitations, wrote two affectionate, touching,
and truly noble-ininded letters, by which, to use Na-
poleon's expression, she "honorably inscribed her name
in history." She avowed Ler irrevocable resolution to
live and die with one to whom she was bound by
honor and duty, and whom neither could permit her
to leave, especially in his misfortunes. She appealed
to her irreproachable conduct while a child, to prove
that she was no stranger to the voice of duty, and that
her conduct as a wife and a mother might be expected
to be equally blameless. She acknowledged that the
match was originally one of policy, but affirmed, that
her husband now possessed her heart, and that her
happiness depended on her continuing with him.
"Best of fathers, (concluded this amiable woman,) I
hrow myself at your feet, and implore you to desist
from your purpose ; for, on this point, my resolution
and my principles are unalterable. It would be cruel
to compel me to continue a contest in which I should
be opposed to a father, whom I cherish more than I do
my own existence."
After the death of the Princess Catharina, in 1835,
Jerome removed to Florence, where he remained until
&Q Revolution of ISiSj when lie returned to
THE BCXNAPAETE FAMILY.
whcrj ne still resides. The admirable Catharina of
Wurtcm berg bore him three children two sons and
a daughter. Jerome Napoleon, the eldest, (born ic
.1814,) was remarkable for his extraordinary resem-
blance to the Emperor; but died in 1846, without
aving distinguished himself in any way. Napoleon,
the youngest, (born in 1823,) was elected to sit in the
National Assembly of France, after the last Revo-
lution, and is known for his ultra-republican views.
The daughter, Letitia Matilde, married, in 1841, a
wealthy Russian nobleman, Count Pemidoft', with
whom she passes her time, partly at Petersburg, and
partly at Paris. Jerome had a son by his American
wife, born shortly after the separation of his parents.
He has continued to reside in this country.
Marie Annie Eliza, eldest of Napoleon's three sis-
ters, was born on the 8th of January, 1777. In May,
1797, she was married to Felix Bacciochi, a native of
Corsica, of a noble family, but at that time only a
captain of infantry. In 1800, her husband being
absent with his regiment, Madame Bacciochi went to
Paris, where she remained until 1805. That year, the
republic of Lucca, and afterward that of Piombino were
changed by Napoleon into a principality, and bestowed
on Eliza. Upon this occasion her husband was created
a prince. It is related of him that when the principal
personages of the capital were presented to his new-
made highness, being accustomed to republican man-
ners, they apologized for acquitting themselves rather
awkwardly at court. Bacciochi, however, put them
quite at their ease, by good-naturedly answering, "In
that case, we must excuse one another ; fur I have been
ELIZA EONATABTE. 34:5
jnst as little in the habit of acting the prince, as you
the courtiers."
In March, 1809, Eliza was further created Grand
Duchess and governess-general of Tuscany; and in
her administration of Lucca, she displayed a good
deal of that energy of character which marked the
genius of Xapoleon. She conducted the department
for foreign affairs herself, corresponded directly with
the French minister, whom she often resisted, and
sometimes obliged her brother to interfere in the dis-
cussions. Jealous of her authority, Eliza allowed her
husband to take little or no share in the government.
At public ceremonies his place was always after hers ;
and at reviews he was merely her aid-de-camp. She
was fond of luxury, and gave way to the feminine
weakness of encouraging admirers, who, if common
fame may be credited, were not suffered to sigh in vain.
By a lively writer of the day she has been designated
as " the Semiramis of Lucca." She nevertheless proved
herself, on numerous occasions, the friend of improve-
ment. She constructed new roads, drained marshes,
colonized the deserted wastes of Piombino, founded
seminaries for education, and, when called upon to re-
linquish her throne, had taken measures for the estab-
lishment of an institute for the encouragement of arts
and sciences. An enlightened traveler states her to
have been greatly be'<ived by her subjects; and he
goes so far as to add, that during her reign the princi
pality of Lncca " had become a paradise."
In 1815, on the occupation of her s 4 - ten bv the
troops of the allies, Eliza was desirous of taking up
her abode ut Bologna ; but she was sent to join hei
34:6 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
sister Caroline, the ex-queen of Naples, in Bohc.mia.
Some time afterward she obtained permission to settle
at Trieste, where, on the 9th of August, 1820, she died.
We are told that Napoleon, on accidentally reading at
St. Helena an account of his sister's death, was thrown
into a state of stupor, and continued for some time
motionless, like one a prey to the most violent grief.
"Eliza, (he said,) has just shown us the way. Death
which seemed to overlook our family, now begins to
strike it I shall be the next to follow her to the grave."
The peaceable disposition of Bacciochi formed a
striking contrast with the active, bustling spirit of his
wife. He seems to have been considered a good sort
of man, who did not care to apply himself to business,
and only sought to indulge in the comforts and advan-
tages of his situation. Bacciochi and Eliza were the
parents of two children N apoleonne Eliza, born June
3d, 1806, and at an early age married to a Count
Carnerata ; and Jerome Charles, born July 3d, 1810.
Maria Pauline, the second of Napoleon's sisters, was
born on the 20th of October, 1T80. A sad accompa-
niment of vanity and frivolity, she emerged into wo-
manhood a very paragon of beauty. At the age of
sixteen she had displayed a very reprehensible taste,
by becoming warmly attached to Stanislaus Freron,
who euperintended the operations of the guillotine at
Marseilles until the death of Robespierre. Fortu-
nately saved from pollution with such a wretch, and
her reputation becoming endangered by the crowd
of admirers she encouraged around her, her brother
hastened her marriage with young Leclerc, an officer
origin, hut of considerable promise, wlion*
PAULINE BONAPARTE. 34?
te immediately elevated to the rank of general. Pauline
was by no means favorable to this union, insomnch that,
when her husband was appointed, in 1801, to head the
expedition to St. Domingo, she refused to accompany
him, and it required all the authority of Napoleon, who
wished to silence the calumnies of his enemies by so
signal a proof of his faith in the success of the enter-
prise, to compel hei compliance with an imperative
duty. She went out to the Antilles accordingly, and
by her enlivening entertainments, struggled for a time
against the desolations of pestilence ; but after the
death of Leclerc, she gladly escaped from so dismal a
ecene ; and carrying back his embalmed body and her
treasures in the same coffin, she hurried with impatient
alacrity to enjoy again the pleasures of luxurious Paris.
Never did a more gay or fascinating widow flutter in
the brilliant circles of that dissipated capital. Her
ambition was to outstrip in attractions the graceful
Josephine. Her displays were theatrical and indeli-
cate, while in envy she exceeded the usual measure
of female weakness, although in other respects she was
full of generosity and good nature. She often pro-
voked the displeasure of Napoleon, but never failed
to pacify him by her blandishments, for he knew she
was really attached to him, and he willingly suifered
himself to be coaxed into the pardon of her follies.
Nevertheless, he deemed it prudent she should take
again, with all dispatch, another husband, who might
at least throw over her the mantle of the conjugal
name. Accordingly, in 1803, she was married to the
Prince Camille P>orghese, an Italian nobleman of large
possessions, who united to eligibility in this respect
848 THE BONAPAKTE FAMILY.
the complaisance of a high-bred consort, During th
early period of the .Revolution, he was known only
by his having filled, with many other noble names,
the muster-roll of a corps of national guards raised by
the patriots of the city of Rome, where he was remem-
bered for the more than Roman indolence of his dispo-
sition, and the perfect stoicism with which he performed
the duties of his military toilet, amid the crash of em-
pires and the dissolution of the entire frame of European
society.
Shortly after Pauline's marriage, the prince took her
to his estates in Italy. Her journey from Paris tc
Rome partook of the character of a public progress.
She was every where accompanied by a guard of
honor, and received homage in every town and village,
as sister of the Emperor and wife of a wealthy Italian
prince. In a few months after his marriage, Borghese
reverted to the frivolous and dissipated habits of his
youth. The princess soon had rivals ; the public de-
cencies were not always preserved ; in a few years a
separation took place, which, notwithstanding various
attempts to negotiate a return, continued uninter-
rupted till within a few months of the lady's decease.
Pauline now took up her residence principally at
Paris or Neuilly. She is allowed to have been at this
time one of the most beautiful women in Europe.
Neither jealousy nor envy, so quick to discover faults
in whatever claims general admiration, ever presumed
to Lint at the slightest blemish in her classical coun-
tenance. Artists were unanimous in considering her
a perfect Yenus de Medicis ; and so little was her en
couragement of the fine arts limited by the ordinary
TAULINE
deas of decorum, that Canova was permitted to
model from her person a naked Venus, which is es-
teemed one of the most exquisite of his works, it is
reported of Pauline, that being asked by an English
peeress how she could submit to such an exposure of
her person, she conceived that the question only related
to physical inconveniences, and answered "that there
was a fire in the apartment ! "
Throughout the whole of Napoieon's short reign in
the island of Elba, Pauline proved that she had some
head and more heart ; and a large share of the execu-
tion of the popular conspiracy which ensued was in
her hands. The greater portion of her own private
jewels were sacrificed to the Emperor on his return to
France ; and when every hope was lost, she proposed,
with ;i i'rame and health debilitated in the extreme, to
wutcb by his death-bed at St. Helena. With this view
die addressed, in July, 1821, only three weeks before
the intelligence of her brothers death reached Europe,
an earnest appeal to the Earl of Liverpool, then at the
head of the British government. "The malady, (said
she,) by which the Emperor is attacked, is mortal at
St. Helena. In the name of all the members of the
family, 1 claim a change of climate. If so just a re-
quest be^retused, it will be a sentence of death passed
upon him ; and, in this case, I demand permission to
depart for St. Helena, to rejoin my brother, and to re-
ceive his parti!:.; breath. I know that the moments of
his life are c r united, and I should eternally reproach
myself, if I did n<>t employ all the means in my power
to soften his last hours, and to prove my devotion to
aim." The prayer was granted ; but the concession
came too ktA.
350
THE BONAPARTK FAMILY.
Aftei the fall of Napoleon, Pauline preserved her
position at Home with great eclat ; though certainly
with some diminution, in consequence of her separa-
tion from her husband. She was allowed to occupy
he splendid building of the Borghese palace, the prince
himself residing at Florence. Her residence was dis-
tinguished by order, elegance, and comfort. It was the
most hospitable house at Rome ; her dinner-parties
were frequent and sumptuous; her concerts and soirees
weekly. In her lively circle a great number of the
cardinals were always to be found ; and it has often
been observed, by way of pleasantry, that, since the
days of Pope Joan, no lady was ever so attended by
cardinals as the beautiful Pauline. Her person was
not tall, nor imposing ; but she had about her all that
indefinable persuasi veil ess which captures the affections
iu silence. Her forehead was classically small ; her
eyes of a gentle blue, and generally suffused with a
sort of coquettish sleepishness, which, whether pro-
duced by pain or pleasure, wooed and won the imagi-
nation more effectually than the brightest sparkle from
the haughtiest eye. The nose was straight and deli-
cate ; the mouth exquisite, particularly when she spoke.
On her head the most beautiful hair was generally
moulded into the choicest forms. Her voice was of
the most fascinating sweetness, and enveloped every
thing in its charm. Her conversation is represented
as having been perfectly easy, often graceful, but al-
ways trifling. There was nothing in it of the daring
and decision of her family. Once, however, when the
embassador Blacan had caused a French painter, whom
the had employed in the decoration of the Villa
GASOLINE BONAPARTE. 351
P&slina, to retire from her service, she icplied to the
notification, that, " A government which feared women
could have little to hope from men." She spent the
greater part of her latter days in Tuscany, far from
Rome and her former circle of associates. She became
reconciled to her husband, in whose arms sne expired,
at the Borghese palace near Florence, on the 9th of
'June, 1825.
Caroline Maria Annonciade, the youngest of Na-
poleon's sisters, was born March 26, 1782. In 1800,
she was married to Joachim Murat, one of Napoleon's
generals. In 1806, Caroline was created Grand Duchess
of Berg, and two years afterward she became Queen
of Naples. In 1815, when the reverses of the French
and the advance of the Austrian army overthrew the
government of Murat, and the city of Naples was on
the brink of anarchy, plunder and massacre, Caroline
adopted measures equally prompt, wise and energetic,
for preserving the public tranquillity. She assembled
the guards, and, assuming their uniform, addressed
them in a speech full of spirit and eloquence. She
was on horseback nearly the whole of the day, and
remained to the last hour, visiting every post, and
assuring herself of the vigilance of all the authorities,
until the approach of the Austrians compelled her to
capitulate to an English officer, who received her and
her children on board his ship ; to which she was ac-
tually followed by the infuriated lazzaroni, insulting
and shocking her ears by the most licentious songs.
Nature had endowed Caroline with a resolute temper,
a vigorous understanding, lofty ideas, and a flex-
ible and delicate mind. Uer manners were higlilj
352 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
graceful and captivating. Talleyrand said of her, that
*' She had Cromwell's head on the shoulders of a pretty
woman." Nothing mortified her more, when only
Grand Duchess of Berg, than to be constrained to ad
dress the wife of her brother Joseph as "Your ma-
jesty ; " and she often complained to the Emperor of
what she called his undue partiality to that prince,
and his forgetfulness of herself and husband. " Your
complaints surprise me, (said Napoleon, on one occa-
sion ;) to hear you talk, any one would imagine that I
had deprived you of your succession to the inheritance
of the late king your father!"
Made a widow, in 1815, by the execution of her
husband, Caroline Bonaparte, with her four children,
settled, after various changes of residence, at Trieste,
where, under the title of Countess of Lipona, she re-
sided with her sister Eliza. In 1836, she returned to
Paris, where, for some time, she enjoyed a pension
from Louis Philippe, but finally removed to Florence.
S : ;e died in May, 1839, at the age of fifty-seven. Of
h;:r four children, the oldest, Napoleon Achille Murat,
(Torn in 1801,) came to the United States in 1820.
Plere he married, -resided for a time in New York,
then practiced as an advocate in Georgia, and after-
ward purchased a plantation in Florida. He visited
Europe in 1831, and wrote a book " on the moral and
political condition " of the people of the United States.
He returned to this country, but finally, in 1839, again
went to Europe and died in 1847. His younger brother,
Napoleon Lucien Charles, (born in 1803,) went through
a similar career coming to the United States when
young, marrying ar American wife, entering intc
BONAPARTE. 353
practice as a lawyer in New York, and jet, notwith
standing this virtual naturalization, finally forced back
to Europe by the ineradicable Napoleonic interest.
His two sisters, (the one born in 1802, the other in
1805,) were married, the elder to a Count Kasponi, the
younger to Count Pepoli, a well-known Italian patriot,
who was driven as a political exile to London, where
he obtained a professorship in a college.
Letitia Bonaparte, the mother of Napoleon, went to
Rome, after the second abdication of her son ; she
lived to the extreme age of eighty-six, and died Febru-
ary 2, 1836. She was a woman of extraordinary vigo)
of mind, and possessed much pride and loftiness of
spirit. Shortly after Napoleon's assumption of the impe-
rial purple, happening to meet his mother in the gardens
of St. Cloud, he, half-play fully, halt-seriously, presented
her his hand to kiss. She flung it back indignantly,
and tendering her own, exclaimed, in the presence of
her suite, " C'est a vous de baiser la main de celle qui
YOUS a donn6 la vie" "It is your duty to kiss the
hand of her who gave you life." Napoleon imme-
diately stooped over his mother's hand, and affection-
ately kissed it.
From the period of the imprisonment of Napoleon
at St. Helena, until his death, her mind seems to have
been engrossed by one object that being, whose
pride she had reproved in ihe days of his brightest
glory. Napoleon fully appreciated her love. "For
me, (said he,) she would doom herself to live on brown
bread." Jn October, 1818, she addressed an alfecting
appeal to the allied sovereigns assembled at Aix-la-
Ohapelle, in his behalf: "Sires, (said she,) 1 am a
23
354 THB BONAPARTE FAMILY.
mother, and my son's life is dearer to me than my
own. In the name of Him whose essence is goodness,
and of whom your imperial and royal majesties are
the image, I entreat you to put a period to his misery
and to restore him to liberty. For this, I implore God,
and I implore you, who are his vicegerents on earth.
Reasons of state have their limits ; and posterity,
which gives immortality, adores, above all things, the
generosity of conquerors." The death of Madame
Letitia, which was preceded by long and severe bodily
suffering, took place in February, 1836, fifteen years
after the decease of her imperial son at St. Helena,
and L early four after that of his sickly heir at Yi-
enna. Of the eighty-six years that she had lived,
fifty had been passed in widowhood a widowhood
how eventful !
Eugene Beauharnais, the son of Josephine, after the
events of 1815, repaired to the court of his father-in-
law, the King of Bavaria, where he received the title
of Duke of Leuchtenberg. He died in 1824, in the
forty-fourth year of his age, leaving two sons and four
daughters. Most of these have made what may be
called fortunate matches. Of the sons, Augustus
espoused, in 1835, the young Queen of Portugal,
Donna Maria, daughter of Don Pedro, but he unfor-
tunately died shortly after the nuptials ; the youngest,
Maximilian, now Duke of Leuchtenberg, obtained, in
1839, the hand of the Grand Duchess Maria Nicola-
jewna, daughter of Nicholas, Czar of Russia. The eldest
daughter, Josephine, is the present Queen of Sweden,
having married Oscar, son of Bernadotte, in 1823.
The second is the wife cf a German prince ; the third
THK BOMAl'AKTK FAMILY. 356
married Dim Pedro, Emperor of Urazil, and thereby
became the mother-in-law of her own brother, the hus-
band of Donna Maria ; the fourth married a certain
Count of Yv T urtemberg. To complete this medley of
European alliances, the daughter of Stephanie, Grand
Duchess of Baden, and niece of the Empress Jose-
phine, lias been recently united to a Scotcli nobleman,
the Marquis of Douglas, only sou of the Duke of
Hamilton, ranking one of the highest among the Brit-
ish peerage fur martial ancestry and vast possessions.
No family, plebeian or patrician, has ever become so
truly considerable and cosmopolitan, either as regards
elevation or diffusion, as the Bonapartes. Napoleon
was twice crowned ; Joseph was successively King of
Naples and of Spain ; Louis was elevated to the throne
of Holland, and afterward declined two other crowns ;
Jerome was made King of Westphalia ; one of the sis-
ters was a queen, and the others were elevated to high
dignities. The immediate descendants of these have
formed royal and aristocratic alliances. It cannot be
denied that, on the whole, they have merited this dis-
tinction, for they have generally remained faithful to
the cause of progress, in whose name they first ob-
tained power. Their fortunes, for a time partially
obscured, are again brightening. Scarcely had the
Revolution of February, 1848, occurred, when, rising
from their haunts in all parts of Europe, the various
members of the family, with Jerome, the old ex-king
of Westphalia at their head, hurried to the scene of
action. France received them with open arms. At
the first elections to the National Assembly three
of them were returned as representatives
356 THE BONAPARTE FAMILY.
Bonaparte, the second sou of Lucien, and the brotLw
of the ornithologist, aged thirty-three; Napoleon Bona
parte, the son of Jerome, aged twenty-six ; and Na-
poleon Lucien Charles Murat, the former New York
lawyer, aged forty-live. The case of Louis Napoleon,
as we have seen, was more peculiar. People naturally
hesitated before admitting to the benefits of republican
citizenship so exceptional a personage as the imperial-
ist adventurer of Strasbourg and Boulogne. Twice he
was elected by several departments simultaneously,
and twice he found himself compelled to decline the
honor ; and it was not till after the supplementary
elections of September, 1848, when he was returned at
the head of the poll for Paris, with a number of other
candidates, that he was able to defy opposition and
take his seat. Once restored to France, the outburst
of opinion in his favor was instantaneous and univer-
sal. From Calais to the Pyrenees, from the Bay of
Biscay to the Rhine, he was the hero of the hour.
Lainartine, Cavaignac, and everybody else that had
done an efficient thing, were forgotten ; and the result
of the great election of the 10th of December was,
that, as if in posthumous justification of enterprises
that the world till then had agreed to laugh at, the
former prisoner of Ham was raised, by the suffrages
of five millions of people, to the presidency of the
French reprblic.
CHAPTER VII.
THE "COUP D' ETAT" AND EMPIRE.
THE act of the French nation which p] iced Lonis
Napoleon at the head of the Republic, and confided to
his hands whatsoever remained of the authority of
government, was undoubtedly as clear and emphatical
an act of popular sovereignty as had ever been per-
formed by a vast nation. It was scarcely less unani-
mous than that acclamation of the emancipated citi-
zens of the United States which called the successful
defender of our fortunes in the field, to be the sage
and pacific founder of our federal constitution. Re-
garding, as we do, the will of the people to be the
highest sanction of authority, and the safest rule of
government, we must acknowledge that there has sel-
dom been an election more absolute than that in
France, December 10, 1848, which elevated Louis Na-
poleon to the presidency of that great nation. It set
aside every conflicting claim ; it baffled every hostile
calculation. The full consequences of tl.e choice then
made by the French people are not yet completely
developed.
The first act of Louis Napoleon was to assure the
Assembly and the country that he was devoted to
republican principles and that the aim of his adminis-
tration woul^ 1 ,e to develop and establish republican
858 THE COUP D'ETAT.
institutions. "We have," he said, "a great mission to
fulfill it is, to found a republic in the interest of all,
and a government, just and tirrn, which shall be ani-
mated by a sincere love of progress, without being
either reactionary or Utopian. Let us be men of one
country, not party men, and by the help of God we
shall be able, at least, to do some good, if we are able
to do no great things." The suffrages of the nation, he
said, and his personal sentiments, commanded his fu-
ture conduct, and imposed upon him duties which he
would fufill as a man of honor. He would treat as ene-
mies of the country whoever should attempt to subvert
the constitution, and between him and the Assem-
bly would exist the most perfect harmony of views. He
would exert himself to place society on its real basis,
and to relieve the sufferings of a people who had borne
such generous and intelligent testimony. He would
endeavor to restore to the government the moral force
of which it stood in need, and to maintain peace and
order. He had called around him men distinguished
for talent and patriotism, who, notwithstanding the
differences of their political origin, would assist him
in consolidating the new institutions of the coun-
try. He then eulogized the becoming conduct and
loyalty of which General Cavaignac had given so
many and such signal proofs, and pledged himself
strenuously to labor to accomplish the great mission
of founding a republic.
The constitution of the republic, which Louis Na-
poleon had sworn to support, had been adopted by the
National Assembly in November, 1S48. Tt com-
menced by declaring France to be a republic. The
THE PRESIDENT AXD TITE ASST^rBMT. 359
legislative power was conferred on an AssemWy of
nine hundred members, to be elected by uni versa.
suffrage. All Frenchmen of the age of twenty- one
were constituted electors, and were to be eligible to
office at the age of twenty-five. The executive power
was vested in the president, to be elected for four
years, and to be ineligible to re-election until after an
interval of four years. A council of state was also
constituted, consisting of forty members, to be elected
by the Assembly, and were to hold office six years.
They were to be consulted in prescribed cases, but
were to have no voice respecting the finances, the state
of the army, or the ratifications of treaties. The vice
president of the republic was to be president of the
council. It was provided that the constitution might
be revised in case the Assembly, during the last
year of its term, should vote any modification to be
advisable.
From the outset, if was assumed by a large body
of the Assembly, that Louis Napoleon would prove
unfaithful to his oath, and endeavor to establish an
imperial dynasty. With this view, an active opposi-
tion was organized, which, however well-grounded
were their suspicions, or however patriotic their mo-
tives, could have no other tendency than to urge the
President into the adoption of unauthorized, but deci-
sive measures, for the maintenance of his authority.
Another circumstance rendered an ultimate collision
between the President and the Assembly almost in-
evitable. The constitution of the republic had been
adopted with extreme haste. The distinctive rights
and duties of the Assembly and of the President had
360 THE COUP D'BTTAT.
not been defined with sufficient clearness. In the ex
ereise of its prerogatives, either party was open tc
the jealousy of the other. The Assembly comprised
adherents of the elder and younger branches of the
Bourbons, of socialists and ultra republicans. There
was always a majority against Louis Napoleon, except
when, playing faction against faction, party against
party, he gained a momentary ascendancy, lie had no
power to prorogue or dissolve the Assembly, and thus
permit the people by a new election to approve or
condemn his policy. Being constrained to select his
ministry from the majority of the existing Assembly,
every measure he succeeded in carrying was accom-
plished through a new combination, and of course
occasioned the formation of a new ministry. If an
appeal to the people, through the dissolution of one
Assembly and the election of another, could have
been made, the great disaster which has befallen re-
publican institutions in France, would probably have
been avoided.
Every successive month, after the elevation of Louis
Napoleon, exhibited an increasing hostility between
the President and the Assembly. But throughout
these difficulties, Louis Napoleon evinced a political
skill and dexterity scarcely inferior to that manifested
in the field by the Emperor Napoleon. Although his
personal adherents in the Assembly never exceeded
one-third of the members of that body, he managed
to carry his measures by a division of his oppo-
nents. Every conflict with the Assembly considerably
strengthened his popularity with the people, for he
succeeded in convincing the middle classes that the
LODIB NArOLJiuS AT 1IAA1. 361
only hope of peace and stability rested on nis pos-
session of power. In one of his tours through the
country, he visited Ham, the scene of his former im-
prisonment, and in a speech at a public banquet, made
the following remarks : "Now that 1 am the choice of
all France, because the legitimate chief of this great
nation, I cannot glory in a captivity which had for its
cause an attack against a regular government. When
we see what evils follow even the most just revolu-
tions, I can scarcely comprehend the audacity of hav-
ing wished to take on myself the terrible responsibility
of effecting a change. I do not, therefore, complain
of having expiated in this place, by an imprisonment
of six years, my rashness against the laws of- my coun-
try ; and it is with happiness that, in the very phuv
of my suffering, I propose to you a toast in honor of
the men who are determined, in spite of their convic-
tions, to respect the institutions of their country.'"
It must not be forgotten, in an estimate of French
affairs, that at the time of the Revolution of 1848, no
gieat party out of Paris, was in favor of a republic.
The monarchy was annulled by the excited populace
of Paris, and a handful of resolute individuals, deeply
penetrated with the conviction that all kings are mis-
chievous, and prompted by a sincere desire to frame a
government upon thoroughly democratic principles,
seized the occasion whenall was confusion, to decree
a republic. Once decreed, no party thought it safe to
unsettle a framework whose destruction might result
in the greatest calamities. The probable rivalry be
tween the Bonaparte, Bourbon and Orleans parties, in
the event of the restoration of a dynasty, offered serious
Sf2 THE COUP DKTAT.
objections to a resumption of monarchical government.
Hence, the republic, once proclaimed, accepted by
some foreign powers and rejected by some of its neigh-
bors, became inevitable. But the whole career of the
first Assembly was a series of intrigues against the
President, of squabbles among its members, of assaults
upon the liberties of the nation, of violations of its
trust, and of decisions which gave the lie to its origin
and its professions. Elected under a republic to per-
fect and consolidate republican institutions com-
mencing life by swearing allegiance and fidelity to the
republic, it was in great part composed of Bourbons,
Orleanists, and Bonapartists desirous of making Louis
Napoleon 'Emperor. These parties made no secret of
their actual views or of their ulterior designs. Proba
bly not more than two hundred and fifty were genuine
republicans, who were faithful to their important trust.
The Orleanists openly visited Louis Philippe and in-
trigued for the return of the exiled family. The "le-
gitimists" adherents of the elder branch of the Bour-
bons avowedly received their directions from Wiesba-
den, where the representatives of that family resided.
The Bonapartists openly sighed for the empire, and
were encouraged by Louis Napoleon, although he re-
mained professedly attached to the republic. A sad-
der, more factious, or more disreputable spectacle than
that presented by President and Assembly, a free
country had seldom seen. The legislative body turned
around almost immediately upon the constituents who
had elected them. They abolished universal suffrage
by a majority of 466 to 223 and disfranchised three
millions of electors. They sent an armj to rnifih the
FOLICT OF LOU18 NAPOLBON. 863
republic of Rome, then so gallantly fighting for its
existence, by 469 votes to 180. They handed over the
education of the youth of the country exclusively to
the catholic clergy by 445 votes to 187. They enacted
laws and sanctioned proceedings against the liberty of
the press, more severe than Louis Philippe had ever
ventured upon.
While the Assembly were thus conspiring against,
and violating and discrediting the constitution to which
they owed their existence, and which they had sworn
to maintain, the conduct of the President seemed also
unpatriotic and dishonest. Almost from the day of
his inauguration, it was evident that he was deter-
mined on a re-election by a revision of the constitu-
tion, if that could be obtained, if not, in defiance of
the constitution. It is almost certain that he aimed,
not only at a prolongation, but at an increase of hi-
power. For this he flattered the army ; for this l;r
removed and appointed military and civil officers ; fur
this he made concessions to the priests ; for this he
joined the majority which enacted the law restricting
suffrage; and for this he afterward joined the republican
in demanding the repeal of that law. His actions aj>
peared to display a patient, plodding, and unscrupulous
ambition. But, on the other hand, he always evinced
so much sagacity, and often such dignity ; his langi
and bearing were moulded with such unerring tact r<
suit the tastes and fancies of the French people ; ami
his personal objects, so far as they were seen, were nup
posed to harmonize so much with the apparent inter-
ests of the country, that his popularity evidcuth
increased with all classes. His messages and speecho**,
864 THE OOUP D'ETAT.
whatever may be thought of their sincerity, were ai
ways characterized by moderation and an apparent pat
riotism. Hie, speech at a public banquet in Paris, on
the first anniversary of his election to the presidency
will serve as an example of the style and tone of his
addresses :
" GENTLEMEN, I thank the municipal body for hav-
ing invited me to the hotel de ville, and for having
t.o-tiay distributed bountiful assistance to the indigent.
To relieve misfortune was in my eyes the best manner
of celebrating the 10th of December. I shall not here
recapitulate what we have done during the last year,
but the only thing of which I am proud is of having,
tuuiiks to the men who have surrounded and who still
surround me, maintained legality intact, and tranquil-
lity without collision. The year which is about to com-
iiu'Moe will, I hope, be still more fertile in happy re-
sults, more particularly if all the great powers remain
closely united. By great powers, I mean those elected
by the people the Assembly and the President.
Yes, I have faith in their fruitful union ; we shall
march forward, instead of remaining motionless ; for
what gives irresistible force, even to the most humble
mortal, is to have before him a great object to attain,
and behind him a great cause to defend. For us, this
cause is that of entire civilization. It is the cause of
that enlightened and sacred liberty, which every day
finds itself more and more threatened by the excesses
which profane it. It is the cause of the laboring
classes, whose welfare is incessantly compromised by
those senseless theories which, by rousing the most
brutal passions and the most legitimate fears, excite
hatred against even the idea of ameliorations. It is
the cause of the representative government, which loses
its salutary prestige by the acrimony of the language,
and the delays which arise in the adoption of the most
useful measures, it is the cause of the grandeur and
the independence of France ; for, if the ideas which
ve oppose were to triumph, they would destroy OUT
LNTEKVENTION IN ROMS. 3b5
finances, our army, our credit, and our preponderance,
\vhile forcing us to declare war against the whole of
Europe. Is ever, therefore, has a cause been more just,
uiore patriotic, and more sacred than ours. As to the
object which we have to arain, it is as noble as the
cause. It is not the pitiful copy of a past of any kind
that we have to make, but it is to call on all men of
heart and intelligence to consolidate something which
is more grand than a charter, more durable than a dy-
nasty the eternal principles of religion and morality
at the same time as the new rules of a wholesome policy.
The city of Paris, so intelligent, and which does not
wish to remember the revolutionary agitations except
to appease them, will understand a line of conduct
which, in following the narrow path traced out by the
constitution, permits the view of a vast horizon of hope
and of security. It has been often said, that when
honor is spoken of, it finds an echo in France. Let us
hope that when reason is spoken of, it will find an
equal echo in the minds as in the hearts of men de-
voted, before all things, to their country. I propose
a toast 'To the city of Paris and to the municipal
body.'"
For the double purpose of conciliating the pope, and
of preventing the increase of Austrian influence in
Italy, one of the earliest acts of Louis Napoleon was,
to send an army, under the command of General Oudi-
not, against the republicans of Rome, who had driven
the pope from his dominions and established a liberal
government. Pope Pius IX., who commenced his pon-
tificate in 1846, was at first inclined to favor many
reforms in the papal states ; but in the revolutionary
movement, which swept like a hurricane over the
thrones of Europe in 1848, he found his people desirous
of obtaining more thorough reforms than he was wil
ling to grant, and in the conflict which ensued, I he
republicans obtained tin mastery. A brief notice of
THE COUP D'ETAT.
these events cannot be without interest, as they are
intimately connected with the development of Louis
Napoleon's policy.
About thirty years before his elevatiun to the pa-
pacy, Pius IX. had been one of the gayest, hand-
somest and most fascinating gentlemen in Italy ; and
was on the eve of marriage with a lovely and noble
lady, to whom he was tenderly attached, when death
suddenly deprived him of his treasure. Her loss occa-
sioned him such deep sorrow, that he renounced the
hopes and pleasures of the world, and became a priest.
He had, until then, borne the epaulettes of the Austrian
service, and was distinguished among his companions
by his proud and gallant bearing. Now, his martial
ardor was exchanged for a martyr's zeal, and he went
as a missionary to preach the gospel among the tribes
of South America. In vain did he expose himself to
the toils and perils incident to this' life of self-devo-
tion ; he survived them all ; and after an absence of
some years, returned to Italy, whither he had been
recalled by his superiors. Here his worth and merit
soon became known. He was shortly afterward ap-
pointed bishop of Imola, then archbishop, next cardi-
nal, and now he had been elected pope at the age
of fifty-four years ! a circumstance almost unprece-
dented in the annals of the sacred college. The popu-
larity of the new pontiff was still more apparent on
the day of his coronation. On that morning, his name
was repeated with the wildest enthusiasm by the vast
masses of people who thronged the streets to witness
the solemnities of the day. The enthusiasm of the
Romans did not end with these splendid and solemn
PIUS rr. 367
ceremonies of the coronation. All men spoke of Pius
IX. as being the dispenser of no empty blessing ; but
that he came to bear liberty to the nations, redress to
the wronged, and consolation to the afflicted. Such,
truly, seemed to be his ambition.
During the first two years of his pontificate, many
deeds of goodness and of mercy crowned his life.
Wheresoever misery appeared among the Romans,
there also was Pius IX. to be found, lending his best
endeavors to relieve or allay it. On one occasion,
when a certain district near Rome was deluged by the
overflowing of the Tiber, so that the wretched inhabi-
tants were flooded in their dwellings, and they them-
selves exposed to the complicated miseries of want,
and of exposure to the inclemency of the weather,
tidings of their misfortune reached the pontiff's ear.
Not content with sending some aid to the sufferers, he
resolved to inspect their condition himself, and mount-
ing his horse, rode off briskly to the scene of distress,
followed by the cardinals, who, accustomed only to
lounge luxuriously in their coaches, inwardly cursed
the active benevolence of their new pope, which would
not suffer him to indulge in lazy benevolence. Pius
IX., on his accession to the papal chair, found himself
placed in circumstances so intricate and perplexing,
that it would have required the highest genius to di-
rect them to a happy issue. By nature benevolent
and firm, with a strong sense of justice, possessing an
intelligent and cultivated mind, he longed to give free-
dom to his people, and to ameliorate their condition,
morally as well as physically. At the same time, his
attachment to the church was ardent and sincere ; and
THE oour D'ETAT.
while he was full of indulgence toward his people, h
was inflexible in his reform of ecclesiastical abuses,
and was the practical opponent of all priestly tyranny.
Many anecdotes, corroborative of this assertion, have
been afloat in the world. We will relate but one,
which has reached us from an authentic source. A
rich Italian noble, desiring in his old age to atone for
the sins of his youth, was advised by his confessor to
bestow the bulk of his property on the church. He
had two nephews, who expected to inherit his fortune,
but, swayed by priestly counsel, he assigned to each
of them only a small annuity, and made a will, dis-
posing of his vast wealth in favor of the priest who
should chance to say the first mass for his soul on the
day of his funeral. This will was safely deposited with
the proto-notary of the Holy See. The nobleman soon
afterward died, and the proto-notary, on opening his
will, immediately communicated its contents to the
sovereign pontiff. It was late at night when this news
reached him ; but the following morning he rose before
the dawn, hastened to the chapel where the funeral
rites were to be formed, ordered the doors to be opened,
and offered immediately the sacrifice of the mass.
Having thus constituted himself the universal legatee,
the holy father at once sent for the nephews of the
deceased, and yielded into their hands the whole of
their uncle's fortune.
The letter of a distinguished Italian refugee, dated
from Rome, in January, 1847, just after an interview
with the pope, of whose benignity and good intentions
he speaks with enthusiasm, thus describes his first im-
pressions of Pius IX. : "I think the pope is a rare
PIUS ix 369
and aii evangelical man. i found as much facility in
expressing iny opinions to him as if he had been only
my equal. We spoke long on the political condition
of the country, on its industrial resources, and m the
liberty of the press. After much though tfulneiss of
aspect and manner, he approached me with an air ol
confidence. ' Son, (said he,) I cannot totally change
the form of government!" Here was the seed of fu-
ture dissensions. Pius IX. was sincere in his desire to
reform civil as well as ecclesiastical abuses, but he was
not prepared to grant the institutions which were de-
sired by his people. His first prepossessions were all
in favor of freedom and progress. He granted liberty
of the press, and became quickly alarmed at its li-
cense : he appointed a civic guard, and was surprised
to find that its ardor could not be confined within the
limits he had assigned to it; he named a council con-
sisting chiefly of laymen, who were to assist him in
the administration of civil affairs, and listened with
dismay to the cries for a representative assembly, who
should have the right of governing the country as well
as of advising its chief.
Whether the pope was unequal to the task now as-
signed to him, of guiding the vessel of St. Peter amid
the storms of a revolutionary period, or whether the
task he had undertaken was one too difficult for the
ablest mortal to accomplish, we do not pretend to de-
cide. Suffice it to say, that early in the year 1849,
symptoms of reaction began to appear. The Romans
became more exacting, ami their s- vereign Jess willing
to concede the privileges Miey desired. The appoint-
ment of Rossi, an Italian by Kirih, but a foroigiu-r bj
37C THE COUP D'ETAT
prejudice as well as habit, to the post of prime mini*
ter, exasperated the people, and diminished the pope's
popularity.
Rossi set about the business of suppressing the
democratic movement, and from his eminent talents
and resolute character it was believed that he would
succeed. His avowed hostility to the people caused
him to be regarded with hostility in turn, and finally
on the 15th November, 1849, he was assassinated in
the street, as he was proceeding to open the Chambers,
[t is not known whether this act was the result of a
conspiracy, or of a sudden impulse on the part of the
assassin. The plans of the reactionary party were de-
ranged by the death of their leader, while the smoul-
dering indignation of the Roman people broke out in
open revolt. The next day they surrounded the pon-
tifical palace in large numbers, demanding of the
monarch the promulgation and full adoption of Italian
nationality as the basis of his policy, together with the
convocation of a constituent assembly and the forma-
tion of a federal compact for the whole Italian penin-
sula, the declaration of war against Austria, and the
appointment of ministers possessing the public confi-
dence. To these demands the pope first replied eva-
sively, and then, being pressed for an answer, flatly
refused. This was followed by a quarrel between one
of the sentinels and the people near him, in the course
of which the sentinel was disarmed ; the guards then
closed the gates of the palace and prepared for a de-
cided resistance. Demonstrations were made of a de-
sign to attack, whereupon they fired and scattered the
assailants, killing a few of them; but the number
PIUS UL 371
increased, and returned the shots. At last a truce was
proclaimed, aud another deputation admitted to the
pope, who was informed that if the resistance were
protracted, the palace would be stormed and all its
occupants except himself put to death. Hereupon, he
yielded so far as to appoint the ministry required, and
the multitude quietly dispersed ; nor was any violence
subsequently offered to either his residence or his
friends.
Pius, however, refused to participate in the action
of the ministry which he had thus appointed. He
remained in Rome eight days after these events, and
finally, on the night of November 23d, 1848, left the
city and went to Gaeta. The King of Naples received
him with great satisfaction, and provided for his enter-
tainment and that of his suite, in the most lavish
manner. It was a great triumph for him, and for the
whole band of European tyrants, that the man who
had set the revolution on foot should thus come to
them for refuge, after having recanted all his former
imprudent liberality, and fled from his capital in dis-
guise, by night. The popular movement, they rea-
soned, had suffered a great loss, when the head of the
church became arrayed against it.
At the time of the pope's flight, the electioneering
campaign was being prosecuted in France, where Cav-
aignac was making strenuous efforts to defeat Louia
Napoleon. Heat once comprehended that the position
of the pope might be turned into political capital for
himself, and lost not a moment in taking the steps ne-
cessary in order to appear to catholic voters, the special
friend of the pontiff. An eminent diplomatist wai
372 THE COUP D'ETAT.
dispatched to solicit his Holiness to see* a refuge in
France, and the minister of education and public wor-
ship hurried to Marseilles to receive the expected guest
with all possible honors. The maneuver was, however,
unsuccessful ; Pius IX. preferred the cordialities of the
King of Naples to the attractions of the hero of June,
and the election resulted in Louis Napoleon becoming
President, and in the defeat of Cavaignac.
The new President of France was not slow to per-
ceive that his own aspirations to increased power would
be advanced by a papal alliance, and lost no time in
urging the French Assembly to send an army to Rome.
The ostensible purpose of the proposed expedition was
to prevent the increase of Austrian influence in Italy.
Under the command of General Oudinot, an army was
eent to Rome, which, after a campaign of several
months, succeeded in putting down the new republic
and in restoring the pope to power. The French army
finally entered Rome, which was stoutly defended by
the republican government freedom was crushed
the pope was reinstated. But Pius IX. entered the
"eternal city" a changed man. The honest zeal in
behalf of reform which he entertained on his inaugura-
tion as pope, was transmuted into an embittered and
determined support of absolutism. The blessings
which had been showered upon him less than four
years previous, by a grateful people, were changed to
execrations. He entered his palace stealthily and at
night, tearing assassination from the very men who
ao recently would have confronted death in his defense.
May 31, 1850, the French Assembly, with a lack of
pmdence quite incomprehensible, adopted a law which,
PARTIES IN THE ASSEMBLY. 373
while it weakened their own popularity with the peo-
ple, greatly increased the strength of the President.
In a revision of the electoral law, so many restrictions
were thrown around the right of suffrage that no lesa
than three millions of voters were disfranchised. The
constitutionality of this measure was doubtful, while
it was manifestly impolitic.
The question of a revision of the constitution was
brought before the Assembly early in 1851, in accord-
ance with a provision of the constitution. It was the
occasion of some very exciting and stormy debates.
The plans and wishes of parties were then fully de-
veloped. The Bonapartists desired an alteration in
only a single point: that which rendered the President
ineligible to a second term at the conclusion of the
first. The monarchists favored a revision, for they
hoped to effect an entire abolition of the republican
constitution, and the establishment of a monarchy
one party being eager for the restoration of the elder
branch of the Bourbons, the other for the elevation of
the heir of Louis Philippe. The republicans, who con-
stituted a minority in the Assembly, united in oppos-
ing a revision. Defective as they felt the constitution
to be, tbey feared that republican institutions would be
endangered by any alteration at that time. The de-
oates in the Assembly on the subject increased in bit-
te.rne88 and acrimony from day to day, sometimes
hardly stopping short of personal violence. In July,
1851, a vote was taken on the question of a revision.
The whole number of votes cast was 724 ; of these 446
were in favor of revision, and 278 against it. Three-
fourths of the votes cast wa* the number constitutionally
374 THE COUP D'ETAT.
required to carry the proposition; so that it failed bj
nearly a hundred votes. By a rule of the Assembly
the subject could not again be introduced until after
the expiration of three months.
Early in November, Louis Napoleon, (who had fa
vored a revision of the constitution in the expectation
that his ineligibility to a re-election would be removed,)
sent his annual message to the Assembly. It opened
by proclaiming the continued preservation of peace,
but expressed the apprehension that this tranquillity
was in much danger. A vast conspiracy, the Presi-
dent said, had been organizing throughout Europe, fo?
the overthrow of existing governments. The approach
ing election in France, he suggested as the period fixed
upon for the outbreak of the revolutionary movement.
He expressed his reliance upon the patriotism of the
Assembly to save France from these perils. The best
means of doing this, he urged, was to satisfy the legiti-
mate wants of the French people, and to put down, on
their first appearance, all attacks on religion, morality,
or society. " Well, then, (proceeds the President,) I
have asked myself whether, in presence of the madness
of passions, the confusion of doctrines, the division of
parties when every thing is leaguing together to de-
prive justice, morality, and authority of their last
prestige whether, I say, we ought to allow the only
principle to be shaken which, in the midst of the gen-
eral chaos, Providence has left upstanding as our ral-
lying point? When universal suffrage has again
upraised the social edifice, when it has substituted a
right for a revolutionary act, ought its base to be any
longer narrowed? When new powers shall come to
LOOTS NAJ'OLKO^B MK8S.AGK. 375
preside over the destinies of the country, is it uot to
compromise their stability in advance to leave a pre-
text for discussing their origin or doubting their legiti-
macy? No doubt on this subject can be entertained ;
and without for a moment departing from the policy
of order which I have always pursued, I have seen
myself, to my deep regret, obliged to separate myself
"Yom a ministry which possessed my full confidence
and esteem, to choose another, composed also of hon-
orable men, known for their conservative opinions, but
who are willing to admit the necessity of re-establish-
ing universal suffrage on the largest possible base. In
consequence, there will be presented to you a bill to
restore that principle in all its plenitude, in preserving
such parts of the law of May 31 as free universal suf-
frage from its impure elements, and render its applica-
tion more just and more regular." The law of May
31, he said, disfranchised three millions of electors,
most of whom were peaceable inhabitants of the coun-
try. It gave an impetus to the revolutionary spirit by
denying to the people their just rights. He concluded
by saying, that, "To restore universal suffrage is to
deprive civil war of its flag, and the opposition of their
last argument ; it is to afford to France an opportunity
of giving herself institutions which will insure her re-
pose ; it will be to bestow on the powers to come that
moral repose which exists only when resting on a con-
secrated principle and an incontestable authority."
Immediately after the reading of tne message, one
of the ministry proposed the repeal of the law re-
stricting the right of suffrage, and the re-establishment
of the electoral law of March 15, 1849, by which al)
376 , THE COUP D ; KTAT.
citizens twenty-one years old, and having resided si
months in the commune, (or electoral district,) were de-
clared electors. The minister, on presenting this hi\v
demanded its immediate consideration. A warm de-
bate followed, and the demand was rejected by a larg*;
majority. The bill was then referred to a committee,
which reported the succeeding week. The report was
very explicit against universal suffrage, and closed by
advising that the bill be rejected at once, without pas-
sing even to the second reading. This was carried by
a vote of 355 to 348 a majority of seven against the
government. During the debate, one of the friends of
Louis Napoleon asked, "Is it not probable that the
disfranchised electors will present themselves at the
elections in May, 1852, and declare their determina-
tion to vote?" This was regarded as an invitation to
the people to pursue such a course, and created much
excitement.
On the 25th of November, the President made fi
brief but significant speech, on distributing to the
manufacturers the prizes they had won by the articles
exhibited at the World's Exhibition. After expressing
his satisfaction at the proofs of French genius and skill
which had been afforded at the Exhibition, he pro-
ceeded to speak of the check upon industry which the
continued machinations of evil men in France could
not fail to create. On the one hand France was dis-
turbed by demagogical ideas, and on the other by
monarchical hallucinations. The former disseminate
everywhere error and falsehood. "Disquietude s^oes
before them, and deception follows them, while the
resources employed in repressing them are so much
1UE CRISIS. 37?
oss to tilt most pressing amelioration and to the relief
of misery. The schemes of monarchists impede all
progress, all serious labor ; for in place of an advance,
the country is forced to have recourse to a struggle.
The efforts of both, however, will be in vain." And
the President exhorted the manufacturers to continue
their labors. " Undertake them without fear, for they
will prevent the want of occupation during the winter.
Du not dread the future ; tranquillity will be main-
tained, come what may. A government which relies
for support on the entire mass of the nation, which has
no other motive of action than the public good, and
which is animated by that ardent faith which is a sure
guide even through a space in which there is no path
traced : that government, I say, will know how to fulfill
its mission, for it has in it that right which comes from
the people, and that force which comes from God."
This speech created a profound sensation, and elicited
general discussion. The " Constitutional," the organ
of Louis Napoleon, added to the excitement by an ar-
ticle proclaiming the existence of a monarchical con
spiracy, and menacing that section of the Assembly
with instant seizure and imprisonment upon the first
movement toward the accomplishment of their plans.
The crisis was fast approaching. A law was pro-
posed authorizing the impeachment of the President in
case he should seek a re-election in violation of the
provisions of the constitution. In addition to this
measure, it was rumored through Paris, that a decree
*
of accusation would be brought against Louis Na-
poleon, charging him with treason, am! ordering his
arrest. This brought on the finul struggle between the
378 THE COUP D'ETAT.
President and the Assembly. He had already made
preparations for a coup d 1 etat.* This he had done
with the utmost secrecy, no one being in his confi-
dence, until the hour of putting his plans into execu-
tion had arrived, in the mean time, he appeared
perfectly unconcerned, and seemed more deeply en-
gaged in the gayeties of social life than in political
intrigues. On the night of Monday, December 1st, he
entertained a large party at his palace, and was
nnusually attentive to his guests until a late hour.
On the morning of the 2d of December, 1851. the
inhabitants of Paris awoke to find the city occupied
by troops, and a decree by the President, posted on
every wall, announcing the dissolution of the National
Assembly, the restoration of universal suffrage, and
the establishment of martial law throughout Paris.
There were also proclamations addressed to the people
and to the army. The first of these was as follows :
" APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE.
"FRENCHMEN, The present situation cannot last
much longer. Each day the condition of the country
becomes worse. The Assembly, which ought to be the
firmest supporter of order, has become a theater of
plots. The patriotism of 300 of its members could not
arrest its fatal tendencies. In place of making laws
for the general interest of the people, it wao Ibrging
arms for civil war. It attacked the power I hold di-
rectly from the people; it encouraged every evil y>as-
sion ; it endangered the repose of France. I liave
dissolved it, and T make the, whole people judge be-
tween me and it. The constitution, as you know, had
been made with the object of weakening beforehand
A sudden and decisive measure in politics, sometimes, as in th
preflvn', inxtance of an illegal and (evolutionary character and
D ihe ground of extreme nwosnity
APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE. 879
the powers you intrusted to me. Six millions of votes
were a striking protest against it, and jet 1 have faith-
fully observed it. Provocations, calumnies, outrages,
found me passive. But now that the fundamental part
is no longer respected by those who incessantly invoke
it, and the men who have already destroyed two mon-
archies wish to tie up my hands in order to overthrow
the republic, my duty is to baffle their perfidious pro-
jects, to maintain the republic and to save the country
by appealing to the solemn judgments of the only
sovereign I recognize in France the people.
"I, then, make a loyal appeal to the entire nation ;
and I say to you, if you wish to continue this state of
disquietude and maladministration that degrades you
and endangers the future choose another person in
my place, for I no longer wish for a place which is
powerless for good, but which makes me responsible
for acts that I cannot hinder, and chains me to the helm
when I see the vessel rushing into the abyss! If, on
the contrary, you have still confidence in me, give me
the means of accomplishing the grand mission 1 hold
from you. That mission consists in closing the era of
revolution, in satisfying the legitimate wants of the
people, and in protecting them against subversive pas-
sions. It consists, especially, in creating institutions
which survive men, and which are the foundation on
which something durable is based."
" Persuaded," said the President, in another procla-
mation, " that the instability of the government and the
preponderance of a single Assembly, are permanent
causes of trouble and disorder, 1 submit to your suf
frages the following fundamental basis of a constitu-
tion which assemblies will develop afterward : 1. A
responsible head, named for ten years. 2. Ministers
dependent on the executive power alone. 3. A council
of state, formed of the most eminent men, prepar
ing the laws and supporting the discussion of them
before the legislative body. 4. A legislative bod*
380 THE COUP D'ETAT.
discussing and voting laws, named by universal sufl ^c
5. A second Assembly, formed of all the illustrio, a v i
the country, a preponderating power, guardian o. the
fundamental compact and of public liberties The
system created by the First Consul at the comrr jnce-
ment of the century has already given to France i apose
and prosperity ; and it would again guarantee tl jm to
it. Such is my profound conviction. If you si. re in
it, declare it by your suffrages. If, on the co- trary,
you prefer a government with strength, monarch jal or
republican, borrowed from I know not what p;*jt, or
from some chimerical future, reply negatively. Thus,
then, for the first time since 1804, you will vote with
a knowledge of what you are doing, in knowing well
for whom and for what. If I do not obtain the ma-
jority of your suffrages, 1 will then call for the meeting
of a new Assembly, and I will give up the charge
which I have received from you. But if you believe
that the cause of which my name is the symbol that
is to say, France regenerated by the Revolution of '89,
and organized by the Emperor is still your own, pro-
claim it by consecrating the powers which I ask from
you. Then France and Europe will be preserved from
anarchy, obstacles will be removed, rivalries will have
disappeared, for all will respect, in the decision of the
people, the decree of Providence. Given at the palace
of the Elysees, this second day of December, 1851."
The events of the preceding night gradually became
known to the astonished citizens of Paris. At an
early hour in the morning, many of the leading mem-
bers of the Assembly had been arrested and sent to
prison. The President's proclamations, which had
THE COUP D'ETAT. 881
oeen privately printed, were posted on the walls.
About 130,000 troops those on whom Louis Napo-
leon could implicitly rely had been silently con
centrated near Paris, and now occupied positions
which commanded almost the entire city. So secretly
had the measures of the usurper been concerted and
carried into execution, that his purposes were scarcely
suspected and every thing had been so admirably
arranged, every contingency had been provided for
with such consummate ability, that none of the plans
of Louis Napoleon failed. So quietly were all things
accomplished, that the people of Paris were utterly
ignorant of what was going on. They awoke to find
the chief members of the National Assembly in prison,
and Louis Napoleon absolute dictator of France. Not
a man was left of sufficient ability and popularity to
rally the people against this sudden and extraordinary
usurpation.
The official account of the arrest of some of the
principal persons whose influence was feared by Louis
Ffapoleon, is highly interesting, as it brings out some
of their most striking points of character. The details
generally are supposed to be quite accurate. The per-
son whose arrest was deemed most important of all
to the President, was General Changarnier, who pos-
sessed, in an eminent degree, the confidence and
affection of the army. The affair was intrusted to
a commissary of police in whom Louis. Napoleon had
implicit confidence. This offiVi-r and his followers
forcibly entered the house \\ here the general resided,
and repaired to ln's 'icd-ron >j As the door was burct
open, the genen 1 was seen standing with a loaded
382 THE COUP D'ETAT.
pistol in each hand ; the commissary seized hold of liii
arms, and struck down his weapons, saying, " What
are you about, general ? Your life is in no danger ;
wherefore defend it?" The general remained calm,
surrendered his pistols, and said, "I am at your
jrders ; I am going to dress myself." The general
was dressed by his servant, and observed to the com-
missary, " I know M. de Maupas to be a gentleman ;
have the kindness to tell him that I trust to his cour-
tesy not to deprive me of my domestic, whose services
are indispensable to me." This request was Rt once
acceded to. During the journey, and while in the
carriage, General Changarnier discoursed of the events
of the day. " The President's re-election," said he,
" was certain ; there was no necessity for him to have
recourse to a coup d'etat; he is giving himself much
need less trouble." And he subsequently added, "When
the President embarks in a foreign war, he will be glad
to seek me out, and intrust me with the command of
an army."
The arrest of General Cavaignac was also peaceably
effected. The commissary rung at the door of his
apartment, and inquired for the general. At tirbt a
female voice replied, " He is not within." A moment
afterward the commissary rung again ; and a man's
voice inquired, "Who's there?** ''Commissary of
police ! Open in the name of the law." u I shall not
open ! " kl Then, general, 1 shall force the door." The
general then opened it himself. The commissary said
to him, ' General, you are uiy prisoner! Resistance
is useless ; I have taken all due measures. I have
been ordered t > make sure of your person by virtue
THE AJ4KKST8. 383
of a warrant which 1 will read to you." "it is need-
ess!" The general showed signs of exasperation.
He smote on a marble table, and used violent ex-
pressions. On the commissary trying to calm him,
tne general eyed him steadily, and said, " What do
you mean by arresting me? Give me your names."
" We will not conceal them from you, general ; but
this is not the time. You must dress yourself, and
follow us." The general became tranquil, and said,
" Very well, sir, I am ready to follow you ; only give
me time to dress ; send out your people." He asked
permission to write, and leave was given him to do so.
When the general was ready, he said to the commis-
sary, "1 have only one favor to ask you it is, to
allow me to go to my place of destination with you
only." The commissary consented. During the jour-
ney, the general was much engaged in thought, and he
only spoke once. ' Am I the only one arrested ? "
" General, i am not called on to reply to that question."
"Where are you taking me to!" "To the Mazas
prison."
General Lamoriciere was also taken by surprise
lie first took the police officer for a thief, but being
assured of the nature of the visitation, he submitted.
The officer said to him "General, I have received
orders from the prefect of police to treat you with all
possible deference. I am, accordingly, desirous to
show you every attention in my power ; and if you
will but give me your word of honor that you will
make no attempt to escape, I shall consider it my duty
to place you in a private carnage, with none hut my-
self to keep watch upon you." " I give you nothing, I
384 THE COUP D'ETAT.
.
answer ft r nothing. Deal with me as you will." 11^
was thereupon conducted to a hackney-coach, with an
escort of police. As they - reached the post of the
legion of honor, the general put his head out of thn,.
window and attempted to harangue the troops. The
commissary did not give him time to utter a single
word, but intimated to him that he should feel himself
called upon to resort to rigorous measures did he repeat
his attempt. The general answered, "Act as you
please." On his arrival at the Mazas prison, the gen-
eral displayed more calmness. He requested the com-
missary not to seize his valuable weapons, and to send
him some cigars and the history of the French Revolu-
tion. The commissary complied with his request.
General Leflo took matters less coolly. He said to
the commissary, " Napoleon wishes to make a coup d '
ctat! We'll shoot him at Yincennes. As for you,
we'll shoot you along with him." The commissary
replied that resistance was out of the question ; that
a state of siege was the order of the day, and that he
knew full well the consequences of such a crisis.
Colonel Chanas, another of those chosen as the first
victims of the President's power, because they were most
feared by him, at first refused admission to the com-
missary selected to arrest him, but seeing that his door
was about to be beaten down, he exclaimed, "Hold I
I '11 open." The commissary told him of the warrant
against him. The colonel said, "I foresaw it right
well ; I expected as much. Escape was easy, but 1
would not quit my post. I thought that this would
have taken place two days earlier, and thinking so 1
loaded my pistol; but J have withdrawn the"
THE ARKE8TS. 385
charge:' and he pointed to a double-barreled pistol
which lav on a piece of furniture. The commissary a
once took possession of it. "Had you come on that
day, (said the colonel,)! would have blown your brains
out. v Lie entered the carriage without offering the
slightest resistance. During the journey he requested
to know whither he was being conducted. As the
commissary hesitated in his reply, he said, "Are you
taking me to be shot?" He was informed that his
destination was the Mazas prison.
Thiers, always so watchful where his own interests
are concerned, was found in his bed, fast asleep. Tho
commissary drew aside the curtains of crimson damask,
with white muslin lining, woke up Thiers, and in-
formed him of his calling and commission. Thiers
started up in bed, raised his hand to his eyes, over
which a white cotton cap was drawn, and said, ' l What
is the matter?" "I am about to search your apart-
ments ; but compose yourself, no harm will be done to
you, your life is in no danger." This last assurance
appeared very necessary, inasmuch as Thiers exhibited
great consternation. "But what mean you to do?
Do you know that I am a representative?" " Yes, but
I caim<jt discuss the point with you, I'am merely to
obey orders." "But what you are now doing may cost
you your head." " Nothing shall hinder me from ac-
complishing my duty " " But you are making a coup
d* etatf" " I cannot answer your arguments, but have
the kindness to rise." " Do you know whether I am
the only one in this present predicament? are my
colleagues similarly treated ? " '" I do not know, rur.'
Thiers rose and slowly dressed himself, rejecting the
25
386 THE OOUP D'ETAT.
assistance of the agents. Suddenly be said to tin
commissary, "Supposing, sir, that I were to blow yoiu
brains out?" "1 believe you incapable of such an act.
Monsieur Thi-ers ; but at all events I have taken evory
precaution; I am at no loss for the means to prevent
the execution of your threat." "But do you kn<>v\
what law is? Are you aware that you are violating tlui
constitution ? " "I have received no instructions to
hold an argument with you ; besides, you are by far
my superior in intellect. All I have to do is to act in
obedience to my orders, as I should have acted in obe-
dience to yours when you were minister for the home
department." The search made in Thiers' study led to
the discovery of no political correspondence. Upon
the commissary expressing his surprise at this circum
stance, Thiers replied that he had for some consid
erable period been in the habit of forwarding his
political correspondence to England, and that nothing
would t>e found on his premises. The versatile states-
man, after a brief detention, was hurried out of the
country, instead of being sent to prison with his
companions.
When the ^members of the National Asbembly
learned that many of their colleagues had been ar-
rested, they hurried to the halls of legislation. These
they found surrounded by troops who obstructed their
entrance. They then withdrew to another part of the
city, where, to the number of three hundred, they
organized the Assembly, and adopted the following
decree with almost entire unanimity :
44 In pursuance of article 68 of the constitution, viz :
"The President of the republic, the ministers, the
DKCKKE OF THK NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 387
Agents, and depositaries of public authority, are re-
sponsible, each in what concerns themselves respec-
tively, for all the acts of the government and the
administration. Any measure by which the President
of the republic dissolves the National Assembly, pro-
rogues it. or places obstacles in the exercise of its
powers, is a crime of high treason. By this act merely,
the President is deprived of all authority, the citizens
are bound to withhold their obedience, the executive
power passes in full right to the National Assembly.
The judges of the high court of justice will meet imme-
diately, under pain of forfeiture ; thej^ will convoke
the juries in the place which they will select, to pro
ceed to the judgment of the President and his accom-
plices ; they will nominate the magistrates charged to
fulfill the duties of public ministers ; '
"And seeing that the National Assembly is pre
vented by violence from exercising its powers, it
decrees as follows, viz. :
"Louis Napoleon Bonaparte is deprived of all au-
thority as President of the Republic. The citizens are
enjoined to withhold their obedience. The executive
power has passed in full right to the National Assem-
bly. The judges of the high court of justice*are en-
joined to meet immediately under pain of forfeiture,
to proceed to the judgment of the President and his
ccomplices ; consequently, all the officers and func-
tionaries of power and of public authority are bound
to obey all requisitions made in the name of the Na-
tional Assembly, under pain of forfeiture and of high
treason. Done and decreed unanimously in public
sitting, this 2d of December, ISol."
This decree received the signature of three hundred
members of the Assembly. Another was a lopted, ap-
pointing General Oudinot commander of the public
forces. These decrees had scarcely been signed by all
the members present, and deposited in a place of
safety, when a band of soldiers, headed by their offi-
cers, sword in hand, appeared at the door, without.
388 THE COUP DIKTAT.
however, daring to enter the apartment. The Assem
biy awaited them in perfect silence. The president
alone raised his voice, read the decrees which had just
been passed, to the soldiers, and ordered them to retire.
They hesitated. The officers, pale and undecided, de-
clared they would go for further orders. They retired,
contenting themselves with blockading the passages
leading to the apartment. The Assembly, not being
able to go out, ordered the windows to be opened, and
caused the decrees to be read to the people and the
troops in the street below, especially that decree which,
in pursuance of the f)8th article of the constitution,
pronounced the deposition and impeachment of Louis
N r apoleon. Soon, however, the soldiers re-appeared at
the door, preceded this time by two police officers.
These men, amid the unbroken silence of the Assem
biy, summoned the representatives to disperse. The
president ordered the officers to retire. One was agi-
tnted, and faltered ; the other broke out in invectives.
The president said to him, "Sir. we are here the law-
ful authority, and sole representatives of law and of
right. We will not disperse. Seize us, and convey ue
to prison." "All, all!" exclaimed the members of the
Assembly. After much hesitation, the police officers
caused the two presidents to be seized by the collar.
The whole body then rose, and arm-in-arm, two-and
two, they followed the presidents, and all were marched
off through the streets, to the various prisons, without
knowing whither they were going.
When the Assembly was thus destroyed, measures
were taken to disarm the power or r,ne press. AJl tht
offices of the iournals were ooctmioti by the military,
BARRICADES. 389
ad none of the journals, except the government or
gans. were allowed to appear. During the whole of
this day the people remained quiet and apparently in-
different, and there was so little alarm that even the
jewelers' shops remained open as usual.
On the following morning, Wednesday, the 3d, a
decree was promulgated regulating the proposed elec-
tion. It convoked the people in their districto, for the
14th of the month, to reject or accept the following
declaration: "The French people wills the mainte-
nance of the authority of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte,
and delegates to him the powers necessary to frame a
constitution on the basis proposed in his proclamation
of the 2d December." All Frenchmen aged twenty
one, and enjoying their civil rights, were called on to
vote. The period of voting to be the eight days end-
ing on the 21st of December. The minister of war
addressed a circular to the generals of the army and
the chiefs of corps, ordering that the soldiers were to
vote for the election of a president within forty-eight
hours from the receipt of the circular. A provisional
consultative commission, in lieu of the abolished
council of state, was appointed, embracing eighty
distinguished members of the late National Assembly.
The tranquillity which had hitherto prevailed was
first interrupted on this day. A member of the late
Assembly, M. Baudin, appeared on horseback in the
Rue St. Antoine, followed by several other members,
and endeavored to excite the workmen to rise. He
succeeded in getting together a small body, who
*hrew up two slight barricades. Troops were instantly
warched against them, and, after a brief skirmish, the
390 THE coi'i- L-'ETAT.
barricadea were taken, .Baud in and another representa-
tive being killed on the bpot, and several of their fol-
lowers wounded. Decrees were immediately pnt forth
by the chief of police and the minister of war, declar-
ing that every person taken in the act of erecting or
defending a barricade, or bearing arms, should suffer
according to the most rigorous laws of war. Groups
were to be dispersed by the armed force and without
previous notice ; and the circulation of public carriages
was prohibited. During Wednesday night, several
representatives passed through the streets, attempting
to address the people ; but they were everywhere pre-
vented. The body of one of the representatives, shot
at the barricade in the Rue St. Antoine, was put on a
litter and carried through several streets. As it passed
along, causing great excitement in its course, the bear-
ers were met by troops, and turned into a by-street.
IJere there was such resistance that the troops charged,
and fired ; and two of the men carrying the corpse
were killed. Proclamations signed by various persons,
calling on the people to tight and offering to lead them,
were posted in a multitude of places, but were speedily
observed and removed.
Thursday, the 4th, opened gloomily. From an early
hour of the morning, the people were astir, and tem-
porary barricades were thrown up here and there, but
abandoned on the appearance of the troops, whom it
appeared to be the wish of the populace to harass.
The alarm began to spread, and the shops in the neigh-
borhood of the disturbed quarters remained closed.
Barricades of a more .formidable character were thrown
up amounting in aU to uiure than a, hundred before
RKSTORKD. 391
information could be forwarded to the troops. Before
twelve o'clock the aspect of affairs became so serious
that all the small posts of soldiers were withdrawn, to
prevent their being surprised and disarmed by the
people, and shortly afterward three or four regiments
Di' cavalry and as many of infantry, with six battalions
>f artillery, were marched upon the disaffected quar-
ters, and fierce and determined conflicts commenced
at the barricades. Charges by large bodies of lancers
were made every five minutes, to clear the principal
streets. J^ quarter was given by the soldiers, who
shot all th&* resisted them.
Before two o'clock there were 30,000 troops in the
streets, and the most peremptory orders were issued
by the officers, that the windows of the houses should
be kept closed, and that no persons should show them-
selves in the balconies or they would be fired at. Vol-
leys were fired at windows, and many persons were
killed. In the middle of the day a formidable attempt
was made by the people, moving from different quar-
ters, to get possession. of the bank and the post-office;
but the large force stationed near these -having de-
ployed into line, the populace, after firing a few vol-
eys, retreated. During the greater part of the day the
bank was partially blockaded, as by some accident the
communication with the main body of the troops was
not kept up, and the one hundred and fifty soldiers
stationed there were without provisions, the barricades
erected in the neighborhood cutting off their communi-
cation and supplies'. At four o'clock, however, the.
barricades were carried, and the garrison relieved. At
eight o'clock in the evening, tranquillity had been
ttite ootrt>
restored, the fig-hting had ceased on all sides, tui
populace appeared to have beeu completely dis-
heartened by their want of success, and the harassed
troops were permitted to repose after their bloody
From the departments, meantime, came news of
resistance. In the frontier districts of the south-east
particularly the whole valley of the Rhone, in fact
the whole region from Joigny to Lyons, including
several departments, the rural population rose in great
strength against the usurpation. There was very hard
fighting in the Nievre, in the Ilerault, and in the fron-
tier districts of the Sardinian and Swiss Alps , and in
many places the contest was distinguished by atroci-
ties. In the course of two or three days, however, all
resistance was quelled.
Preparations were made for the election. The army
voted first, and of course its vote was nearly unani-
mous in favor of Louis Napoleon. The popular elec-
tion was to take place on Saturday and Sunday, the
20th and 21st of December. The simple question sub-
mitted was,- whether Louis Napoleon should remain at
the head of the state ten years, or not. No other can-
didate was allowed to be named. The official returns
show 7,439,219 votes in his favor, and 640,737 against
him. On New Year's day, the issue of the election was
celebrated with more than royal magnificence. Can-
non were fired in the morning seventy discharges in
all. ten for each million of votes recorded in his favor;
and at noon the President went to N<Hre Dame, the
principal church of Paris, where the event was cele-
brated with the most gorgeous and dazzling pomp
I1ie scene \vas theatrical and imposing. All i j aris waa
covered with troops, and the day was one of universal
observance. From N6tre Dame, Louis Napoleon re-
turned to the Tuileries, where the reception of the
authorities took place, and a banquet was given at
which four hundred persons sat down. The day be-
fore, he had received the formal announcement by the
consultative commission of the result of the election.
M. Baroche, the president of the commission, in an-
nouncing it, said that, "France conh'ded in his courage,
his elevated good-sense, and his love; no government
ever rested on a basis more extensive, or had an origin
more legitimate and worthy of the respect of nations."
In reply, Louis Napoleon said that France had com-
prehended that he departed from legality only to re-
turn to right: that she had absolved him, by justifying
an act which had no other object than to save France,
and perhaps Europe, from years of trouble and anar-
chy : that lie felt all the grandeur of his new mission,
and did not deceive himself as to its difficulties. He
hoped to secure the destinies of France, by founding
institutions which respond at the same time to the
democratic instincts of the nation, and to the desire
to nave, henceforth, a strong and respected government.
On the 14th of January the new constitution was
decreed. In the proclamation accompanying it, the
President oaid that, not having the vanity to substitute
a personal theory for the experience of centuries, he
sought in the past for examples that might best be fol-
lowed: nml ho P'lid to hiMi<"lf, "Since Franco has made
progress during the last fifty years, in virtue alone of
the administrative, military, judicial, religious,
394
tUR COUP
financial organization of the Consulate and ihe Em-
pire, why should not we also adopt the political insti-
tutions of that epoch?" After sketching the condition
of the various interest? of France, for the purpose of
showing that it had been created by the administra
~ V
tion of tlie Emperor. Louis Napoleon declared the
principal features of the constitution established by
the Emperor had been adopted, as the foundation of
the new constitution which he submitted to the people.
The- constitution consists of seven sections. The gov-
ernment is intrusted to Louis Napoleon, actual Presi-
dent of the Republic, for ten years : he governs by
means of the ministers, the council of state, the sen
ate, and the legislative body, lie is responsible to the
French people, to whom he has the right always to
appeal, lie is chief of the state, commands the land
and sea forces, declares war, concludes treaties, and
makes rules and decrees for the execution of the laws.
He alone has the initiative of the laws, an.d the right
to pardon. lie has the right to declare the state of
siege in one or several departments, referring to the
senate with the least possible delay. The ministers
depend solely on him, and each is responsible only so
far as the acts of the government regard him. All the
officers of the government, military and civil, high and
low, swear obedience to the constitution and fidelity to
the President. Should the President die before the
expiration of his office, the senate convokes the na-
tion to make a new election the President having the
right, by scfTi-t will, to desiirmito the oiti/en whom he
recommends. Ur.til the election of a new President,
the president of the senate will ::< vern. The number
TDK NKW CONSTITUTION. 395
of senatois is fixed at eighty for the first year, and can-
not exceed one hundred and fifty. The senate is com-
posed of cardinals, marshals, admirals, and of the
citizens whom the President may name. The senators
are not removable, and are for life. Their services are
gratuitous, but the President may give them $(3000
annually, if he sees fit. The officers of the senate are
to be elected on nomination of the President of the
Republic, and are to hold for one year. The senate is
to be convoked arid prorogued by the President, and
its sittings are to be secret. It is the guardian of the
fundamental law and of the public liberties : no law
can be published without being submitted to it. It
regulates the constitution of the colonies, and all that
has not been provided for by the constitution, and de-
cides upon its interpretation but its decisions are
invalid without the sanction of the President. It
maintains or annuls all acts complained of as uncon-
stitutional by the government or by petition, it can
fix the bases of projects of laws of national interest,
in reports to the President; and can also propose
modifications of the constitution ; but all modifications
of the fundamental bases of the constitution must be
submitted to the people. In the legislative body there
i- to be one representative for every 35,000 electors
elected by universal suffrage. The deputies receive no
salary, and hold office for six years. The legislative
body discusses and votes the projects of laws and the
imposts. Every amendment adopted by the committee
ciiai-Lji'd with the examination of a project of law, shall
1 e sent, without discussion, to the council of state, and
if not adopted by Liiat L/uuy, il cannot ue submit: ad tc
"96 THE COUP D'ETAT.
legislative deliberation. The sittings are to be public,
but may be secret on the demand of five members.
Public reports of the proceedings shall be confined to
the journals and votes and shall be prepared under
direction of the president of the legislative bodj. Tlio
officers are to be named by the President of the Re-
public. Ministers cannot be members of the legisla-
ture. No petition can be addressetl to the legislative
body. The President of the .Republic convokes, ad-
journs, prorogues, and dissolves the legislative body :
in case of dissolution, he shall convoke a new one
within six months. The number of councilors of state
is from forty to fifty. They are to be named by the
President and are removable by him. He presides
over their meetings. They are to draw up projects of
law and regulations of the public administration, and
to resolve difficulties that may arise, under the direc-
tion of the President. Members are to be appointed
from its number by the President, to maintain, in the
name of the government, the discussion of the projects
of law before the senate and the legislative corps.
The salary of each councilor is $5000. The ministers
have ranks, right of sitting, and a deliberative voice in
the council of state. A high court of justice judges
without appeal all persons sent before it accused of
crimes, attempts or plots against the President of the
Republic, and against the internal and external safety
of the state. It cannot be convened except by decree
from the President. Its organization is to be regu-
lated by the senate. Existing provisions of law not
opposed to the present constitution shall remain in
force until legally abrogated. Such are the provisk/ug
of the now constitution of France.
LiBKKIY Ok TL.E I'liKSS STOPPED. 307
jju^ji tho first. Louis Napoleon exercised the power
A virti bo had seized, in the most arbitrary manner
.Irrestb of disaffected persons were made in all parts oi
France, and in the course of a few weeks, several thou-
sands oi' persons were sent into temporary banishment,
and tweufcy-five hundred were directed to be sent to
the penal colony of Cayenne, on the coast of South
America. These ftcts of high-handed severity created
a deep feeling of Jkapprobation, to which, however,
it was unsafe to g:ve expression, either in print or in
conversation.
Among the numerous decrees of Louis Napoleon to
restrain the liberties of the people and establish his
own authority, was one for the legulation of the press,
which destroys every semblance of freedom of the
press, and makes it a mere subservient tool in the
hands of the government. It consists of four chapters,
and the following are their provisions: (1.) No journal
can be published without first obtaining permission of
the government ; nor can any foreign journal be ad-
mitted into France except by the same permission ;
and any person bringing into France an unauthorized
paper, will be liable to a year's imprisonment and to a
fine of $1000. Every publisher must deposit caution-
money, from $3000 to $10,000, before he can issue a
paper, under heavy penalties. (2.) Stamp duties are
imposed upon journals whether published in Franco,
or introduced from other countries ; and the authori-
ties are enjoined to seize all publications violating these
regulations. (";Vf Every violation of the article of the
constitution which prohibits legislative reports, is pun-
ishable by fine of from $200 to $1000. The publication
$98 THE COUP D J E?TAt.
of false news subjects to a tine, and if it bo of a ten-
dency to disturb the public peace, imprisonment is
added. No account of the proceedings of the seriate or
council of state, and no report of trials for press of-
fenses, can be published ; and in all affairs, civil, cor-
rectional, or criminal, the courts may forbid the publi-
cation of their proceedings. Every editor is bound to
publish official documents, relations, and rectifications
which may be addressed to him by any public au-
thority ; if he fail to do so, he may be fined and his
journal seized. No one can carry on the bookseller's
trade, or issue or sell engravings, medals, or prints of
any kind, without obtaining permission of the authori-
ties, and becoming subject to the same restrictions as
are imposed upon journals. (4.) With regard to exist-
ing journals, three months are allowed for them to de-
posit the caution-money required, and to conform to
the other provisions of the new law.
The promulgation of a decree in regard to the pro-
perty of Louis Philippe and his family, created much
dissatisfaction, especially among the royalists. It de-
clares that the Orleans family, their husbands, wives
and descendants, cannot possess any real or personal
property in France, and directs the whole of their pre-
sent possessions to be sold within one year. The im-
mense property possessed by Louis Philippe when he
ascended the throne, and given by him to his children
at that time, was declared to be confiscated. Of the
proceeds of its sale, $2,000,000 is to be allowed to the
mutunl fiFsist.aneo societies organised among the poo
pie ; $2,000,000 will be devoted to the establishment of
institutions for making loans on mortgages; $2,000,000
TTT- PKKSIT'KNT'S SPEECH. 390
.B to bo used as a pension fund for ihe poorest of the
clergy ; and the remainder is to be distributed in pen-
sions to military functionaries. In this decree a con-
siderable sum was directed to be paid annually to the
Duchess of Orleans. That spirited lady addressed to
Louis .Napoleon an indignant protest against the de-
cree. She said "As I do not acknowledge your
right to plunder my family, neither do I acknowledge
your right to assign to me a dotation in the name of
France. 1 refuse the dowry."
The opening of the new senate and legislative body
took place on the 20th of March, 1852 In his speech
on that occasion, the President briefly rehearses the
reasons which made his usurpation necessary, and
cited the readiness with which the people submitted to
a temporary abridgment of their liberties, as proof of
their conviction that they had been abused. He said,
with regard to the rumors that lie intends to make
himself Emperor, that he had had the opportunity to
do so on three occasions if he had been so disposed,
and he referred to his forbearance then, as evidence of
the falsehood of the reports. He declared that he was
firmly resolved to maintain the government in its pre-
sent form, unless the machinations of the disaffected
si.ould compel him to proclaim greater powers. He
repeated his assurances of peace, and declared that he
would restore popular freedom and rights as rapidly
as the security of the country would permit.
On the 21st of March, Louis Napoleon reviewed the
troops, and bestowed upon thorn the medal instituted
by the confiscation of the Orleans estates. In the
speech which he made on the occasion, he said, hii
tOO TUB COUP DETAT.
object in instituting the modal was to make some mon
adequate compensation for the services of the armj
tnan they usually received. He urged them to accept
it as an encouragement to maintain intact their mili-
tary spirit. " Wear it, (he said,) as a proof of my so-
licitude for your interest, and my affection for that
great military family, of which I am proud to be the
head, because you are its glorious children."
On the evening of April 4th, the highest judicial
authorities of the state attended at the Ely see to take
the oaths prescribed by the constitution in presence of
Louis Napoleon, who received them surrounded by hia
ministers. A complimentary speech was made to him
on behalf of the judges. In his reply the President
used strong expressions concerning the basis of his
right to the office he holds. He said : "Since the day
on which the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people
replaced that of divine right, it may be affirmed with
truth, that no government has been as legitimate as
mine. In 1804, four millions of votes, in proclaiming
the power to be hereditary in my family, designated
me as heir to the empire. In 1848, nearly six millions
called me to the head of the republic. In 1851 nearly
eight millions maintained me there. Consequently, in
taking the oath to me, it is not merely to a man that
ytu swear to be faithful, but to a principle to a
cause to the national will itself." These expressions
have been generally considered as indicative of hered-
itaiy imperial pretensions, to be made good at the
earliest convenient opportunity.
With but few exceptions, the prominent citizens of
France universally acknowledged the authority of
OKNEKAL CHANQARNIEB. 401
Louis Napoleon, and took the oath of fidelity winch
bad been prescribed by him. Among the dissentient*
fr&s General Changarnier, who addressed a remark-
ible letter to the minister of the Interior in reply to
Iris demand that he should take the oath of allegiance
O
to Louis JN apolcon. He says that the President had
repeatedly endeavored to seduce him to his support
that he had offered not only to make him marshal but
to confer upon him another military dignity unknown
since the empire, and to attach to it immense pecuni-
ary rewards; that when he perceived that personal
ambition had no effect upon him, he endeavored to
gain him over, by pretending a design to prepare the
way for the restoration of the monarchy to which he
supposed him to be attached. All these attempts had
been without effect. He had never ceased to be ready
to defend with energy the legal powers of Louis Na-
poleon, and to give every opposition to the illegal
prolongation of those powers. The exile he had un-
dergone in solitude and silence had not changed his
opinion of the duties he owed to France. He would
hasten to her defense should she be attacked, but he
refused the oath exacted by the perjured man who had
tailed to corrupt him. In reply to this letter, the edi-
tor of the " Constitutionnel," the official organ of the
government, brought against General Changarnier spe-
cific charges that in March, 1849, he demanded from
Louis Napoleon written authority to throw the constit-
uent Assembly out of the window that he subse-
quently urged him in the strongest manner to make a
coup d'etat ; and that in November, 1850, he assem-
bled a auuiber of political personages, and proposed la
402 THE COUl' DIKTAT.
them to arrest Louis Napoleon and send him to
prison, to prorogue the Assembly, and to assume the
dictatorship. General Lanioriciere, also, in a pub-
lished letter, refused to take the oath required; Le
declared his readiness to defend France against foreign
ftes whenever she should be attacked, but he would
not take the oath of fidelity to a perjured chief. The
venerable astronomer, Arago, also refused to take
the oath of allegiance required of all connected in any
way with the government. He wrote a firm and dig-
nified letter to the minister notifying him of his pur-
pose, and calling on him to designate thi day when 'it
would be necessary for him to quit the bureau of astron-
omy, with which he had been so closely connected for
half a century. He also informed him that he should
address a circular letter to scientific men throughout
the world, explaining the necessity which drove him
from an establishment with which his name had bees
so long associated, and to vindicate his motives from
suspicion. The minister informed him that, in consid-
eration of his eminent services to the cause of science,
the government had decided not to exact the oath, and
that he could therefore retain his post. These exam-
ples of non-concurrence in the new policy of the Presi-
dent were followed by inferior magistrates in various
parts of France. In several of the departments, mem-
bers of the local councils had refused to take the oaths
of allegiance. The civil courts of Paris had, also, in
one or two instances, asserted their independence by
deciding against the government in prosecutions com-
menced against the press. On the 23d of April, mor.3-
vver, the civil tribunal gave judgment on the demand
PRESIDENT AND THE ASSEMBLY. 403
made by the princes of the Orleans family to declare
illegal the seizure of the estates of Neuilly and Mon-
ceaux, under the decree of the 22d of January, rela-
tive to the property of the late king, Louis Philippe.
In answer to this demand, the government called on
the tribunal to declare that the decree of 22d January
was a legislative act, and the seizure of the prop-
erty an administrative act, and that consequently the
tribunal had no jurisdiction.
The session of the legislative body was closed on the
28th of June by a message from the President, in which
he thanked the members for their cooperation and
support, and especially for having "occupied them-
selves with the great interests of the country, laying
aside all susceptibility, and feeling that the epoch of
sterile and impassioned discourses had passed away,
and that of business had arrived." He hoped that
they would extend throughout the country the senti-
ment, of which from their own observation they must
be possessed, "that there exists in France a government
animated with the faith and the love of good which
reposes on the people, the source of all power on
the army, the source of all force and on religion,
the source of all justice." During the latter part of
the session, the budget was discussed with some interest
and with some attempts at freedom of debate ; but
ministers gave out such threatening intimations, that
the assembly were made to feel that they possessed but
the name of legislative authority. The opposition
members drew up a strong report, reviewing in a criti-
cal manner the events of the session, and expressing an
emphatic condemnation of the policy of the President ;
404 THE COUP D*EtAt.
but as the paper could not be printed, it was widelj
circulated in manuscript.
The session of the senate was closed by decree on
the 5th of July. The severity of the restraints npon
the press was carried to such an extreme, that the
Paris correspondents of three of the London journals
were summoned to the department of police, and
were assured that in future they would be held per
son ally responsible, not only for the contents of theii
own letters, but for whatever the papers with which
they were connected might say, in leading articles or
otherwise, concerning French affairs.
On the 17th of July the President left Paris, to
celebrate the opening of the railway between Paris
and Strasbourg. At the latter city he was received
with every demonstration of respect, coining now as a
sovereign, and not as an adventurous pretender to the
throne. All the ceremonies were on the most extensive
scale. During his stay at Strasbourg he crossed the
.Rhine, and went to Baden-Baden, his object being,
according to rumor at the time, to seek an interview
with the Princess Caroline Stephanie de Vasa, grand-
daughter of the Duchess of Baden, to whose hand it
was supposed he aspired. Another rumor was that
the lady, with whom the President was desirous of an
alliance, was another Baden princess, and a grand-
daughter of Eugene Beauharnais.*
* In connection with these rumors, we give a fact of previotu
ccurrence :
TS'lu n the lat J. Fetnmoro Cooper was residing at Parits in 1833, his
republican sympathies as well as' personal friendship for Genera?
Lafayette led to a familiar and confidential intercourse between them
PROPOSALS ofr MARRIAGE. 405
On his return the President was honored with a
grand military display, and an apparently cordia.
welcome by the Parisians. A change was now made
in his ministry, and his household was arranged on
quite an imperial footing, a grand marshal of the pal-
ace, a grand master of ceremonies, a grand equerry,
and officers of like character, being appointed. New
titles of nobility were also conferred, higher titles were
applied in -the government papers to the President
himself, all indicating a preparation foi the empire.
The 15th of August, the birthday of Napoleon, was
signalized by fetes of extraordinary magnitude and
splendor. The scenes were skillfully adapted to recall
the memory and glory of Napoleon. The citizens,
On one occasion, when calling on Lafayette, Mr. Cooper was received
by the servant with an unusual appearance of caution. He found the
general alone, who inquired whether he met an acquaintance in the
passage. On finding he had not, Lafayette remarked that his servant
must have secreted the visitor in a side room ; and went on to inform
his friend that Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte had just left him t
that although a Bonaparte then risked his life by entering France, the
prince had come to propose a marriage with his grand-daughter
Clementine, thus uniting the Republicans and Imperialists, and
making himself Emperor ! Lafayette replied that his family adopted
the American practice of choosing husbands for themselves, and that
the prince could address the lady if he pleased. Of what followed,
we are not informed ; but must infer that his suit, if preferred, was
unsuccessful, as the lady afterward married M. de Beaumont, French
ambassador under Louis Napoleon, to the court of Austria. When in
London, some time after, Mr Cooper mentioned to the Princess
Charlotte, (widow of the elder brother of Louis Napoleon,) the
prince's daring visit; to which she only replied, "he is mad !"
Mr. N. P.Willis, who related the fact some years since, prophetically
added, " there is a ' lucLlioJ in his madness,' for the same match
between Imperialism and Republicanism has been the prince's pm
uit ever since, and the chances ore that he will bring it about."
406 -rim cotrf tvfrrAT.
however, cornp'ied to a manifestly smaJ extent with
the request of the government for a general illumina-
tion. Solicitations to sign petitions for the restoration
of the empire were already addressed to the inhabit-
ants of the faubourgs of Paris, but the number of
subscribers was not very encouraging. In the mouth
of September, Louis Napoleon made an extensive tout
through the south and west of France. Though the
accounts in the journals were without doubt exagger-
ated, the various receptions and displays arranged by
functionaries of the government, and various means
taken to stimulate enthusiasm, yet it must be admitted
that this journey was highly successful in producing
an exhibition of popular homage and attachment.
The name of Napoleon still demonstrated its potency
with the masses of the French. Along the entire
route the President was hailed with cries of " V-ive
V Em-perturb Ilis liberality excited admiration and
increased bis popularity, lie donated thousands of
francs to the charitable institutions of various towns
through which he passed, and distributed gold with
his own hands to the veterans of the old empire. Ilis.
munificence was even exercised in a way which
evinced his arbitrary assumption of power. He pub-
lished a decree at Toulon to the effect that the fortifi-
cations of that important place were to be immediately
enlarged and strengthened. The decree was placarded
on all the walls of the town, much to the satisfaction
of the inhabitants, who looked upon it not only as a
means of increasing the importance of their town, but
als > of affording labor to the working classes. The
President had previously granted two million fie
TWIT TO Tot 1.0 N 4OT> LTO1T8. 107
hundred thousand francs for the building of the new
cathedral at Marseilles. This prodigality on the part
of Louis Napoleon, without even the formality of
asking the legislative corps, was the subject of strong
animadversion on the part of those who had hoped
that the parliamentary system was not altogether
destroyed.
The ceremonies at Toulon were somewhat ludicroun
and unlucky. The mayor, in his confusion, when re-
ceiving the President at the gates of the town, forgot
the important ceremony of presenting him with the
keys of the town. He afterward wished to repair the
omission when Louis Napoleon visited the arsenal ;
but the admiral told him bluntly that the arsenal was
quite independent of the town, and that he (the admi-
ral) would allow no mayor to assume any jurisdiction
over it. In the ball-room a rather awkward affair
occurred. The decorations were of a former period,
and the workmen omitted to change the initials " R
F." Fortunately the mayor discovered the mistake in
time. The " R " was altered into an ' E," which al
once converted Repvblique Francaise into Empvrt
Francaise. The distant magistracy of Toulon could
hardly be blamed for not keeping their mottoes corre-
sponding with their oft-changing allegiance to their
central government.
At Lyons, the President witnessed the ceremony of
erecting an equestrian statue of the Emperor Napoleon,
and made a speech of considerable significance in
connection with his progress toward the imperial
d ignity :
" Lyonese,'" he said, "your city nas always been
IDS
THE UOt I' D KTAT.
associated by remarkable incidents with the different
phases of the lite of the Emperor. Von hailed hint
Consul previous to his crossing the Alps to gather fresh
laurels. You hailed him in his omnipotence, Emperor ;
ftnd when Europe had confined him on an island, you
were again among the first, in 1S15, to salute him" as
Emperor. To-day your city is the first to erect a statue
to him. This fact is significant. Equestrian statues
are only erected to sovereigns who have resigned, and
it was on that account the governments who preceded
me have ever denied that homage to a power of which,
they would not admit the legitimacy. And yet who
was more legitimate than the Emperor, thrice elected
by the people, consecrated by the chief of religion, and
recognized by all the continental powers of Europe,
who were united to him by bonds of policy and by ties
of blood ? The Emperor was the mediator between two
hostile epochs. lie destroyed the old regime by re-
establishing all that was good in it. He destroyed the
revolutionary spirit, by causing the blessings of the
revolution everywhere to triumph. This is the reason
why those who overturned him soon deplored their
triumph. As for those who defended him, I need mt
call to mind how profoundly they lamented his down-
fall. On that account, when the people found them-
selves free to make a choice, they directed their eyes to
the heir of NAPOLEON, and it is for the same motive
that, from Paris to Lyons, everywhere on my passage
the unanimous cry of Vive V Empercur, has been
raised ! But that cry is much more, in my view, a
recollection that affects my heart, than a hope that
excites my pride. A faithful servant of my country,
I shall ever have but one object that of reconstituting
in this great country, convulsed by so many revolutions
and Utopian schemes, a peace founded on conciliation
of persons, on the inflexibility of the principles of
authority, morality, and affection for the laboring and
suffering classes, and of national dignity. We aro
only just emerging from those critical times, when, the
notions of good and evil being confounded, the boat
were perverted. Prudence and
SUSPECTED. 409
-equiie that at such periods the nation should pause
and consider, before it fixes its destinies, and it is still
difficult for me to know under what name I can render
the greatest services. If the humble title of President
could facilitate the mission confided to me, and before
which, I did not recede, 1 should not, from personal
interest, desire to exchange that title for the title of
Emperor. Let us, then, deposit on this stone our
homage to a great man. We thus honor both the
glory of France and the generous gratitude of the
people, and testify likewise the fidelity of the Lyouese
to immortal souvenirs."
This speech was received with loud cries of Vive
V Empereur! It was immediately transmitted by
telegraph, and placarded in the streets of Paris.
At another place, in answer to an address from the
authorities urging the Imperial regime, he remarked :
" When the general interest is at stake, I will try to
anticipate public opinion ; but I follow it in the case
of an interest which may appear personal." The sin-
cerity of such expressions may l>e justly subject to sus-
picion, when mercenary agents were shouting among
the crowds, Vive V Empereur !
Previous to the entrance of the President into Mar
seilles, a discovery was made of a supposed plot to
assassinate him by means of an infernal machine, in
imitation of a similar attempt made upon the life of
Napoleon when First Consul. Numerous pieces of
gas pipe, so constructed as to answer the purpose of
musket barrels, and loaded with hundreds of bullets,
were discovered in a house situated on the route by
which it was presumed the prince would enter the
city. Many arrests were made of individuals supposed
uo have a connection with this ati'air, and the impression
IS
4:10 THE COLT L/J.TAT.
WHS sought to be conveyed that the ramiticiiikm.s of
the plot were extended to various prominent places
throughout France. There was quite a strong sus-
picion on the other hand, that this whole a ft air
was but an ingenious device of the police to increase
the popular interest in the President; and there are
some important considerations favoring sucli an idea.
After having passed over the most of his contem-
plated route, and having had a good opportunity to
observe the temper and inclinations of the people, the
prince more explicitly announced his opinions as to
the assumption of the title of Emperor, in the following
speech at Bordeaux, which is given wit]; the reporter's
remarks as to its reception :
"The object of my journey, as you are aware, was
to become personally acquainted with our beautiful
provinces of the south, an'd to study their necessities.
It lias, however, given occasion for a much more
important result. In fact, and I may say it with a
frankness as far removed from vanity as false modesty,
never did a people testify in a direct, more spontane-
ous, more unanimous manner, their determination to
relieve themselves from anxiety for their future condi-
tion by consolidating in one hand a power with which
they sympathize. (Applause.)
***##***#
"The nation now surrounds me with its sympathy,
because I do not belong to the family of * ideologues?
To achieve the well-being of the country, there is no
necessity for the application of new systems, but it is
before all things necessary to give confidence in the
present, and security for the future. This is tiie reason
why France appears to wish to return to the empire.
("Yes, yes." "Bravo." "Vive 1'Empereur.") There
is, nevertheless, one apprehension to which I must
allude. In a spirit of mistrust, certain people exclaim,
TVs empire is war.' But I say, 'The empire is peace.
It is peace, for France desires it ; and when France is
contented, the world is tranquil. (These words, pio-
nounced in a firm and emphatic tone, produced an
immense sensation.)
"Glory may be bequeathed as an inheritance, but
not war. Did those princes who gloried in being the
descendants of Louis XIV. recommence his combats?
War is not made for pleasure, it is made from necessity,
and at those epochs of transition when, side by side
with so many elements of prosperity, so many causes
of death also germinate, we may well say with truth,
cursed be he who shall be the first to give the signal in
Europe of a coalition, the consequences of which would
be incalculable. I admit, however, that I, like the
Emperor, have many conquests to make. I desire, as
he did, to conquer, by conciliation, dissenting parties,
and to bring back into the current of the great popular
streams those hostile rivulets which run to nothing,
without profit for any one.
" I desire to conquer, by religion, by morality, by
prosperity, that yet numerous part of the population,
which, in the midst of a country of faith and belief,
scarcely knows the precepts of Christ which, in the
midst of the most fertile country in the world, can
scarcely enjoy such of the produce of the earth as the
first necessity requires. (Sensation.) We have im-
aense uncultivated territories to clear, roads to make,
ports to deepen, rivers to render navigable, canals to
finish, our net-work of railways to complete.
"We have, opposite to Marseilles, a vast kingdom to
assimilate to France; we have all our great western
ports to bring nearer to the American continent, by the
rajudity of communication which we still want; in a
word, we have everywhere ruins to rebuild, false gods
to cast down, truths to make triumph. (Prolonged
applause.) Thus do 1 understand the empire if the
empire is to be re-established. (Sensation. "Vive 1'
Empcreur!") Such are the conquests which I contem-
plate ; ami all you who surround me, who desire, with
me, the good of your country, you are my soldiers/
C 4 Yes, yes." Repeated plaudits.)
tHE coui' D'KTAT.
On his Way back to Paris, Louis Napoleon stopped &
the Chateau d'Amboise, and liberated Abd-el-Kader
from his captivity, informing him that he would be
conducted to Broussa in Turkey, where he would re-
ceive from the French government an allowance
befitting his rank.
About the middle of October the President reached
Paris, and was greeted with imposing demonstrations
and great apparent enthusiasm. The ordinary elements
of such spectacles were more profuse than usual tri-
umphal arches, banners, transparencies, gilded eagles.
deputations, processions, the army, and the citizens in
their holiday suits, all exhibited their splendors to the
best advantage under the favor of a cloudless sky, and
weather as fine as could be wished. The inscriptions
and devices exhibited a remarkable uniformity of sen-
timent, the consequence, it was charged, of being pre-
pared by the orders of the government, though this
was denied by the official journal, which maintained
that the reception in all parts was the spontaneous
tribute of the people of Paris. The prince entered the
city on horseback, by the bridge of Austerlitz. which
was spanned by a grand arch, dedicated by "the city
of Paris to Louis Napoleon, Emperor." Of similar
purport were all the inscriptions. An immense con
course of troops and people followed him to the Tuil-
eries, with shouts of " Vive Napoleon III! " He was
surrounded by a numerous staff, among whom were
several foreign officers ; but it was remarked that nono
of the foreign ministers took part in the display. In
the evening the city was illuminated. This was, with-
out doubt, the finest receution witli which the President
MESSAOE TO TirK 8KNATE.
Bad ever met in Paris, and must have satisfied him,
had he any scruples, of the feasibility of speedily
reaching the summit of his ambition.
He now no longer hesitated in taking that step lor
which he had made such long and patient preparations.
By talent, by maneuvering, by flattery, oy unfaltering
energy of purpose, and the unscrupulous use of all
necessary means, he had formed the antecedents of the
empire. Immediately, therefore, on his return, he
issued a decree, summoning the senate to meet on the
4th of November, to consider the question of changing
the form of government, and re-establishing the empire,
in consequence of the expressed wishes of the people
of France. The senate met on the day appointed, and
was opened by Prince Jerome Bonaparte with a brief
statement of the object of the session. The -following
message from the President was then read by the
minister of state :
"SENATORS, The nation has clearly manifested its
wish for the re-establishment of the empire. Confident
in your patriotism and your intelligence, I have con-
voked you for the purpose of deliberating on that grave
question, and of intrusting you with the regulation of
the new order of things. If you should adopt it, you
will think, no doubt, as I do, that the constitution of
1852 ought to be maintained, and then the modifications
recognized as indispensable will in no way touch its
%ndamental basis.
"The change which is in preparation will bear chiefly
on the form, and yet the resumption of the Imperial
system is, for France, of immense significance. In
fact, in the re-establishment of the empire, the people
finds a guarantee for its interests, and a satisfaction for
its just pride. That re-establishment guarantees the
interests of the people, by insuring the future, by
the era of revolutions, and by a^ain consecrat-
44 THE COUP
.ng the conquests of '89. It satisfies its just pride,
because in restoring, with liberty and reflection, that
which thirty-seven years ago the entire of Europe had
overturned by the force of arms, in the midst of the
disasters of the country, the people nobly avenges its
reverses without victims, without threatening any inde-
pendence, and without troubling the peace of the world
u i do not ignore, nevertheless, all that is full
of peril, in at this day accepting and placing on
one's head the crown of NJU'OU-;O,N ; but my appre-
hensions diminish with the idea that, representing as
I do, by so many titles, tae cause of the people and
the national will, it will be the nation which, in ele-
vating me to the throne, will herself crown me.
(Signed) LOUIS NAPOLEON.
Given at the Palace of St. Cloud, Nov. 1. 1852."
A proposition to modify the constitution, signed by
ten senators, was then presented ; and a committee of
ten was appointed, which submitted a long report,
accompanied \>y a Sen at as Consultum, consisting of
eight articles. After some discussion on each of the
articles, the whole was adopted by a vote of eighty-six
out of eighty -seven senators. The substance of this act
of the senate is as follows: it declares that, 1. The em-
pire is re-established, and Louis Napoleon Bonaparte
is Emperor under the name of Napoleon III. ; 2. The
imperial dignity is hereditary in his direct and legiti-
mate male descendants, by order of primogeniture;
3. If he has no male Descendants, he may adopt the
legitimate children and descendants in the male line
of the brothers of Napoleon I. ; 4. Adoption is inter-
dicted to his descendants ; 5. He is to regulate by an
organic decree the order of succession, in case he
should leave no direct, legitimate or adopted heir;
6. The wemburb of the family of Louis Napoleon who
OF ftt& SENATE. 41S
eventually be called to the sucession, aua theii
descendants, constitute the imperial family, whose posi
tion is regulated by the senatus consultum, and none
of whom can marry without the Emperor's sanction ;
7. The constitution of January 15, 1852, is maintained
in all its provisions not contrary to the present senatus
consultum, and no modification of it can be effected ex-
cept in the manner and by the means which it has
prescribed ; 8. The proposition that the empire be re-
established upon this basis and on these conditions, is
to be submitted to the people for their acceptance.
Immediately after the adoption of this act, the sen-
ators in full costume, and the cardinals in scarlet robes,
preceded by an escort of cavalry, repaired to the
palace of St. Cloud, where they were ushered into the
presence of the Prince President
In his reply to the senate at this interview, Louis
Napoleon observed :
" When, forty-eight years since, in this same palace, in
this same room, and under analogous circumstances, the
senate came to offer the crown to the chief of my fam-
ily, the Emperor replied in these memorable words :
'My spirit will no longer be with my posterity from
the day when that posterity shall cease to meri' the
love and the confidence of the great nation.' What
now most affects my heart is the thought that the spirit
of the Emperor is with me, that his ideas guide me,
that his shade protects me, since, by a solemn proceed-
ing, you come, in the name of the French people, to
prove to me that I have merited the confidence of the
country. It is not necessary for me to tell you that
my constant care will be to labor with you to promote
the grandeur and prosperity of France."
On the 21st and 22d days of November, the expres
ion of the popular will was taken throughout France
41 $
Bat little opposition was manifested. The result of thi
vote was as follows :
Foi the empire, 7,864,189
Againstit, .. 253,145
Votes canceled as illegal, 63,326
Majority for Louis Napoleon, 7,547,718
On the 1st of December, the legislative corps, num-
bering two hundred and forty members, assembled for
the purpose of making the official declaration of the
election ; then proceeding to St. Cloud, in full costume,
announced the result. The next day, December 22d,
the anniversary of the coup d'etat, Louis Napoleon
made his public entry, as Emperor, into Paris. His
arrival was greeted with the acclamations of the peo-
ple, the national guard, and the army. The public
proclamation of the empire was made at the Hotel de
Ville during the same morning, previously to his arrival.
To the congratulatory addresses from the senate and the
legislative corps, his Imperial Majesty made the follow-
ing reply :
" GENTLKMEN : The new reign which you this day in-
augurate has not its origin, as so many others which
history records, in violence, conquest, or intrigue ; it
is, as you have just declared, the legal result of the
will of an entire people what it had founded in the
midst of agitation.
" I am deeply grateful to the nation which three
times in four years has supported me by its suffrage,
and which each time has only augmented its majority
in order to increase my power But the more this
power gains in extent and in vital force, the more need
it has of enlightened men like tho.se whom I address, to
guide me by their counsels, and to reduce my authority
within just limits, if ever it should transgress them.
"From this day 1 take with the crown the name of
Napoleon III.. hccnu>c tin 1 , opinion of the people has
ffii tfiw EkraitoR's txAbobkAu 4H
Already bestowed it on me in their acclamations, be-
cause the senate has legally proposed it, and because
die whole nation has ratified it.
"Does this, however, signify that in taking this title,
I fall into the error imputed to the prince who, return-
ing from exile, declared all that had been done in his
absence null and void ?
"So erroneous a notion is far from me. Not only do
I recognize the governments which have preceded me,
but I inherit in some sort what they have accomplished
of good and evil ; for successive governments, notwith-
standing their different origin, are severally bound by
the acts of their predecessors.
" But the more I accept that which, for the last fifty
years, history hands down to us with its inflexible
authority, the less was it allowed me to pass over in
silence the glorious reign of the chief of my family,
and the title, regular although ephemeral, of his son,
which the chambers proclaimed with the last outburst
of conquered patriotism.
"Thus, then, the title of Napoleon III. is not one of
those dynastic and obsolete pretensions which seem an
insult alike to truth and common sense ; it is the hom-
age paid to a government which was legitimate, and
to which we are indebted for the finest pages of our
modern history. My reign does not date from 1815 ; it
dates from the very instant that you have communicated
to me the suffrages of the nation.
#####**##
" And here receive the oath, that 1 will use every
exertion to assure the prosperity of this country ; arid
that, while maintaining peace, I will yield nothing
which affects the honor and dignity of France."
The most enthusiastic cries of "Vive 1' Empereur,"
"Vive Napoleon III.," followed this speech.
The senate was convened the next day, and pro-
ceeded to determine the civil list of the new regime
A general amnesty rela i ng to offenses of the press, and
also in many cases to political offenses, was declared
41 S titt: COtJP t)>ETAf.
Tlie presumptive inheritance of the crown was settled
upon the ex-King Jerome Bonaparte and his family
who hear the title of u their Imperial Highnesses."
Prince Napoleon Bonaparte, the cousin of the Emperor,
was appointed viceroy of the kingdom of Algeria.
There was no hesitation on the part of foreign
powers to acknowledge the empire. The acquies-
cence of England was so promptly accorded as to
excite the "most vivid satisfaction" of his imperial
Majesty. The Pope conveyed to the Emperor expres-
sions of his entire satisfaction witli the new order of
things.
The Emperor submitted to the senate certain amend-
ments to the last constitution, whereby the prerogatives
of grunting amnesties, making treaties, decreeing pub-
lic works, arid the right of ministers to vote upon the
budget, were assured to him. The senate ventured on
a small show of independence, by hesitating to confirm
the proposed modifications, and finally appointed a
committee to wait upon his Majesty. Tin's committee
used every argument to dissuade him from his deter-
mination, but his only answer was: "So the senate
wants a conflict, for form's sake."
To give eclat to the Emperor's clemency, Abd-el-
Kader was permitted to come to Paris, while these
first days of the restored empire were elapsing. He
was entertained with splendid military reviews, and
visits to all places of interest in the grand capital.
Ills presence in public excited full as much attention
and applause as did that of the Emperor. Had ho
been able to speak the language, he would have
become celebrated for the readiness and piquancy of'
THK NBW EMPRESS. . 119
his repartees. One day he was taken to Versailles,
to visit the palace of Louis XIV. His hosts avoided
showing; him the rooms, in which is the series of
pictures illustrating the war in Algiers. He, however,
insisted on seeing them, and his desire was gratified.
He said nothing till he came to the splendid painting
by Vernet, representing the taking of the tent of Abd-
el-Kader. He then quietly observed : " If I had had
painters at my command, I should have ordered pic-
tures, too!" After being royally entertained at Paris,
he sailed on the 21st of December for his place of
exile in the East.
In the month of January, 1853, Paris was taken by
surprise on the announcement of the expected speedy
marriage of the Emperor. The negotiations with the
royal families of Europe, if they ever existed, came to
an unsuccessful conclusion. Either the charms of the
lady, or the sudden discovery of a more profound and
useful policy, put an end to all schemes of politico-
matrimonial arrangements, and Napoleon III. selected
his wife, as one of the humblest of his subjects might
have done. The present Empress of France is a
Spanish lady, but of Irish extraction, her family
having intermarried with the noble Spanish house of
Palafox. She bore the name of Eugenie de Montojo,
Countess of Teba. She possesses rare personal at-
tractions, but more in the style of English than of
Spanish beauty. Her complexion is transparently
fair, her features regular and yet full of expression.
She is a little above middle stature, with manners
extremely winning, and at the time of her marriage
about twenty -six years of age. With brilliant
420 THE OOTTP D'ETAT.
social charms, she was naturally the center of fashion
in the gay capital, and attracted in a special manner
the attentions of the new Emperor. His proposals tc
her were made and accepted on the 16th of January
and on the following day the fact was publicly
announced. One immediate consequence was the
resignation of the ministry. The resignations were
not, however, accepted.
She is said ever to have been quite a dashing, ec
centric, and independent young lady, and has all her
life followed the dictates of her own fancy. She used
frequently to be observed on the Prado, at Madrid, in
the midst of the fashionable crowd, in a simple little
carriage drawn by two ponies, no larger than dogs,
and which she drove herself, accompanied by her
sister or friend, and with some noblemen of lier family
on a very small seat behind. The Queen of Spain lias
been seen to recognize her in this equipage. Many
piquant anecdotes are told of her free and rather
unfeminine conduct in both Madrid and Paris. In
the former metropolis, she once waited on an actor of
the French theater, with the somewhat abrupt, though
dashing and sprightly declaration that she liked him,
and would learn something of his history and travels.
She insisted that he should take a seat in her carriage.
Remonstrance would not avail. Into the carriage ho
did get, and after a ride of four hours around the city,
he was safely landed at his cafe, much to his own
astonishment, and her amusement.
On the 22d of January the various chief function-
aries of state presented themselves at the Tnileriee,
to receive from the Emperor the announcement of hi?
THE EMPEROR ON SIS MARRIAGE. 421
intended marriage, which he made in the following
speech :
" MESSIEURS : I yield to the wish so often manifested
by the country, in coming to announce to you ray
marriage.
"The alliance which I contract, is not in accord with
the traditions of ancient policy, and therein is its
advantage. France, by its successive revolutions, has
ever abruptly separated from the rest of Europe.
Every wise government ought to try to make it re-
enter into the pale of the old monarchies. But this re-
sult will be more surely attained by a straightforward
and frank policy, by loyalty in conduct, than by royal
alliances, which create a false security, and often sub-
stitute family interests for those of the nation. More
over, the example of the past has left in the mind of
the people superstitions feelings. It has not forgotten
that for seventy years foreign princesses have mounted
the throne but to behold their race dispossessed and
proscribed by war or by revolution.
" One woman alone seemed to bring happiness, and
to live more than the others in the memory of the
people and that woman, the modest and good wife of
Gen. Bonaparte, was not the issue of royal blood. It
must, however, be admitted that in 1810 the marriage
of Napoleon I. with Marie Louise was a great event.
It was a pledge for the future, a real satisfaction to the
national pride, as the ancient and illustrious branch
of the house of Austria, who had been so long at war
with us, was seen to solicit the alliance of the elected
chief of the new empire. Under the last reign, on the
contrary, the amour propre of the coimcry h id to
snf'fiT, \vhcn the heir to the crown solicited, fruit !< ; s.sly.
t'nn'Mg several years si princely alliance, to obtain it
only in a secondary rank, and in a diiierent religion.
" \V,.cn in the presence of old Europe, one i.s borne
<n I'V the force of a new principle to the hcLht of
a cieut dynasties, it is not. by giving nn a'trie; t char-
;u-ier to one's escutcheon (envieillissant mm blason,)
;<.;:<! by seeking to introduce oneself at ail costs into a
428 THTC COUP D'ETAT.
family, that one is accepted. It is rather by evi
remembering one's origin, by preserving one's own
character, and by adopting frankly, in presence uf
Europe, the position of pcirwnu a glorious title when
ont obtains it by the free suffrages of a great people.
Thus, obliged to depart from precedents followed to
the present day, my marriage became a private affair,
and there remained only the choice of the person.
"She who has been the object of my preference is
of distinguished birth. French in heart, by education,
by the recollection of the blood shed by her father in
the cause of the empire, she has, as a Spaniard, the ad-
vantage of not having in France a family to whom it
might be necessary to give honors and fortune. En-
dowed with all the qualities of the mind, she will be
the ornament of the throne; in the day of danger she
would be one of its courageous supporters. A Catholic,
she will address to heaven the same prayers with me
for the happiness of France. In fine, by her grace and
her goodness, she will, I have the firm hope, endeavor
to revive, in the same position, the virtues of the
Empress Josephine.
"I come, then, Messieurs, to announce to France that
1 have preferred the woman whom I love and whom I
respect, to one who is unknown, and whose alliance
would hare had advantages mixed with sacrifices.
Without disdaining any one, I yet yield to my inclina-
tions, but after having talfen counsel from my reason and
my convictions. In fine, by placing the independence,
the qualities of the heart, domestic happiness, above
dynastic prejudices and the calculations of ambition,
I shall not be the less strong because I shall be more free.
"'Soon proceeding to Notre Dame I shall present the
Empress to the people and to the army ; the confidence
they have in me assures me of their sympathy, and you,
Messieurs, on learning better to appreciate her whom
I have chosen, you will allow that on this occasion also
I have been inspired by Providence."
The civil maniagewas celebrated at the palace ot
the Tuileries on the 29 : h of .January, and the religioui
CELEBRATION OF THE MARRIAGE. 423
ceremonies took place the next day, which was Sunday
at the church of Notre Dame. At an eaily hour ia
the morning all Paris was astir, to witness one of those
displays which have so often appeared to compensate
the French for the loss of their liberties. The description
of the scene is given in the words of an eye-witness :
"Shortly after 9 o'clock, large bodies of cavalry and
infantry were to be seen directing their way from the
different barracks in and around Paris toward the point
allotted to them on the route between the palace of the
Elysee, and between the latter and the cathedral of
Notre Dame. At the same time the whole of the na-
tional guards of Paris were called out for the purpose
of doing honor to the day, by forming the line on one
side of the streets through which the procession was to
pass, while the infantry of the line formed the other.
A vast number of deputations of the trades and work-
people were to be seen with flags and banners directing
their steps toward the garden of the Tuileries, which
was the spot specially set aside for that purpose. Many
of the deputations were very picturesque, consisting as
they did of young women dressed in white, adorned
with wreaths of flowers, and carrying boquets in their
hands.
"A wooden structure was raised, in three com-
partments, over the grand entrance and the two side
doors, and painted in the fashion of the medieval ages,
to match the character of the building. Green pre-
dominated in the decorations, that being the color of
the Emperor, and the letters * N. E.' were to be seen
in various places, in honor of the imperial couple.
Above the wooden erection, long draperies of green
velvet floated to the wind, and higher up, along the
facade of the building, was to be seen a line of flags
of various colors ; higher still, the old towers themselves
were covered with gold brocade. The effect was unusu
ally rich ; and as the weather was dry, though cold, the
pleasure ot regarding these precious materials, thus
exposed to the open air, was not marred by any
424 THE OODP D'ETAT.
apprehension of injury from rain. The lower part of the
decorations near the various entrances, was hung with
crimson velvet, edged with gold lace.
"The first feeling of the spectator on entering was one
(yf unmixed admiration. Along the whole of the nave
was suspended from the arched roof an absolute forest
of chandeliers, containing thousands of wax lights.
The pillars were enveloped, from plinth to capital, with
crimson velvet. At the top of each capital was affixed
a richly gilt shield, bearing a gilt eagle. Between the
pillars, springing from the arches, higher up, was to be
seen a drapery of crimson velvet, edged down the sides
with an imitation of ermine, and fringed at the bottom
with deep gold lace; this drapery served to mask the
wood-work of a long line of galleries, erected from pil-
lar to pillar, and filled with elegantly dressed ladies.
Again, higher up, a pallium of green velvet, studded
with golden stars, was seen between every two pillars,
and bearing in its center a gigantic ; N.' Garlands of
flowers were festooned among these draperies, und other
shields were placed on the flat wall of the building, under
the lofty windows, each having on it a figure of Our
Lady, to whom the cathedral is dedicated. The crim-
son velvet oil the pillars next to the nave, had no other
ornament than an edging of gold lace under the capital
of each; but those of the side aisles were studded witli
golden stars, aud bore the letter N' in front Three
chandeliers, one large one, and two smaller, gave light
to each tribune above; and three ranges of immense
lustres of beautifully cut glass, ran down the centre of
the nave. At the eastern end of the building the chan-
cel had been cut off from the ceremony by the erection
of a temporary altar just where the transepts leave the
choir. Above the altar rose a lofty canopy of crimson
velvet, lined, to all appearance, with ermine, and sur-
mounted with a gilt eagle of immense size. Between
this canopy and the altar, was to be seen a sort of taber-
nacle in the Byzantine style, which extended at each
side to the transepts, and thus formed a screen, shutting
out the chancel and its side aisles. But though the
building \\as cut into two unequal parts, the portion
rau MARRIAGE CEREMONY. 425
not occupied by the oeremony was by no means lost,
as immense chandeliers .hung from the roof in that part
of the church, just the same as in that appropriated to
the spectators. The consequence of this illumination
was, that as the temporary screen broke the distance,
and rendered the view uncertain, the lines of lights
appeared absolutely interminable, and the general ef-
fect was infinitely enhanced.
" About 121 o'clock, some of the deputy chamberlains
of the palace appeared in their scarlet uniforms, and
immediately the drums beat a salute and the trumpets
sounded a flourish. Marshal Valliant entered the mo-
mont after, and then came a number of ladies in dresses
of the brightest colors and the richest materials.
u The clergy then proceeded down the aisle, with the
Archbishop of Paris at their head, to meet the Emperor
and the Empress. At five minutes to one, the Emperor
and Empress arrived, and having been offered the
morsel of the true cross to kiss by the archbishop, four
ecclesiastics held a ricn dais over the imperial pair, and
the procession advanced up the church. Marshal Mag-
nan and the Duke do Bassang led the way, followed by
Marshal de St. Arnaud and the Duke de Cambaceres.
Then came the Emperor, leading the Empress by the
hand, he advancing on the right. The Empress was
exceedingly pale, but perfectly composed. She looked
neither to the right or to the left, and advanced stead-
ily. She wore a dress of white velvet. A vail flowed
from underneath the small crown sparkling with dia-
monds. The front of her dress and the l>as(nte behind
also shone with the same rich ornaments. The Empe-
ror was dressed in the uniform of a general officer. lie
had on the grand collar of the Legion of Honor which
had belonged to Napoleon, and the collar of the Golden
Fleece, which had been suspended from the neck of
Charles V., and which the Queen of Spain had sent to
him. The Emperor looked uncommonly well in high
spirits and good health.
" The cortege returned to the palace of the Tuileriee
in the same order as it went to liotre Dame ; but, in
stead of following the streets, it came along the quay
42f> THE COUP D'ETAT.
as far as the Place de la Concorde, and entered the
palace by the grand entrance to the garden of the
Tuileries. The deputations, drawn up in the gardens,
were respectful but not warm in their salutations."
The Emperor signalized his marriage by p&rdoning
four thousand three hundred and twelve persons, who
/?ere suffering banishment or imprisonment for political
offenses ; but the list embraced the names of no men
cf prominence, and by its extent, evinced the actual
rigor by which his rule had been previously marked.
All the banished generals, and the men of note, who
were proscribed after the events of December 1851,
are Btill under the ban. The Empress gained large
accessions of esteem and popularity by his liberality.
The city of Paris desired to present her with a superb
necklace, valued at six hundred thousand francs. This
present she declined, and at her request, the municipal
council devoted the money to the foundation of a school
for poor girls, to be under her special patronage. A
quarter of a million of francs, which her husband
placed at her disposal, she also devoted in charity.
The legislative assembly met on the 14th of February.
In his speech at the opening, after relating the prosper-
ous and tranquil state of the nation, the Emperor said :
"These results have not cost great efforts, because
they were in the minds and for the interests of all. To'
those who would doubt their importance, I will reply,
that scarcely fourteen months ago France was delivered
up to the hazards of anarchy. To those who regret
that a wider field has not been given to liberty, I will
reply, that liberty has never aided in founding a dura-
ble Apolitical edifice ; it crowns it when it has been
consolidated by time. Let us, besides, not forget that
the immense majority of the country has confidence
CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY. 427
m the present and faith in the future ; there still re-
main incorrigible individuals, who, forgetful of their
own experience, of their past errors, and of their dis-
appointments, obstinately persist in paying no atten-
tion to the national will, deny the reality of facts, and
in the midst of a sea which every day grows more
tranquil, call for tempests, in which they would be
the first to be swallowed up. These secret proceed-
ings of the different parties serve no purpose but to
show their weakness, and the government, instead of
being disturbed at them, only thinks of governing
France and tranquilizing Europe."
The condition of France, under a stable and efficient
government, evinced the marks of an immediate and
increasing prosperity. The public revenues increased.
and the financial condition of the state became better
than it had been for the previous twenty years. By
the firm determination of the Emperor, and the zeal-
ous cooperation of the Assembly, the expenditures
were brought within the limits of the national income ;
a rare occurrence in French finance. Large reduc
tions were made in the line of the army, and ever.
indication of a peaceful intention was given by the
Emperor. Considerable apprehension, however, was
felt in England, of a rupture between the two gov-
ernments. It is related that at this time an English
nobleman was riding with the Emperor toward Com
piegne, and being desirous of surprising him into ;
candid answer, abruptly asked him if he really th<
of irvad ing England. The reply to this rather i:: , :
dent question was: "I have no such intention unless
you force me to it ; but from what I see and hear of
your democratic spirit in England, I think it very
Likely that 1 .-hall have to go over some day, au-J
THE COUP D'ETAT.
help yonr Qneen." My lord was compelled to prcke*.
the rejoinder.
Louis Napoleon evidently strengthened himself
greatly by the assumption of the imperial title and
dignity. He took his place among sovereigns, and
Europe was compelled to acknowledge him as one of
the crowned heads. He gathered around his person
those memories of the First Emperor, which are so
precious to the mass of Frenchmen, and which tend
in their eyes to invest with a bewildering splendor
the individual who by any act can connect them with
himself. AB he became more exalted, absorbing in
himself more of the higher powers of the state, his
rule from necessity became more rigorous. As usual,
the public press first felt this increased rigor. Its
freedom was sternly suppressed by warnings, censor-
ship, and severe penalties. Y"et his occasional clem-
ency toward political offenders won him great praise;
more than was deserved, when it still remained true
that great numbers languished in the prisons, or died
after untold sufferings in the penal colonies.
The Emperor's rival, General Cavaignac, remained
unreconciled to him, though submitting to his rule.
He continued a rigid republican, as was his father
before him. The following anecdote is given of
him : Bergere, the prefect of the Seine, met him
at the horticultural exhibition, and raised his hat.
The general responded to the civility with a frigid
stiffness. " But," said the prefect, approaching him
more nearly, and mingling cordiality with depreca-
tion in his tones, " General Cavaignac's services to
society, and his varied worth, command a respect and
REPUBLICAN DEMONSTRATION. 429
esteem, the expression of which ought not to be af-
fected by a difference in political opinions." " It is
not a simple difference of opinion between us," re-
plied the ex-dictator ; " we belong to different camps."
A republican demonstration, such as had not been
attempted since the coup d'etat, took place in Paris
not long after the imperial marriage, when a body of
nearly twenty thousand men inarched together in the
funeral procession of Madame Raspail, wife of the
celebrated republican, then a state-prisoner on ac-
count of his political views. A detachment of cavalry
and a strong force of police were present, and pre-
vented any speeches over the grave. This immense
line of men, five deep, marching with bare heads and
in solemn silence past the columns of liberty on the
Place de la Hostile, evinced the yet strong sentiment
ia the hearts of many against the existing form of
government, as well as the popularity of the impria
oned Raspail.
CHAPTEK V1I1.
THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR.
Louis NAPOLEON declared that the " Empire was
peace ;" but it did not long continue so. It was in-
ternal peace to France; for it placed in one hand
those vast powers of the state, under which all op-
posing political parties were crushed But it was
consolidated by a war which revived in a degree the
military excitements and glories of the first empire.
For this domestic influence, this confirming of his own
power at home, and the increase of his influence in
the politics of Europe, the French Emperor was the
lore ready to engage in that war with the Emperor
of Russia, which has signalized the middle of the
present century.
The Emperor Nicholas of Russia, throughout his
whole reign, directed his policy toward the extension
of his influence in the affairs of Turkey. The osten-
sible motive for his interference in the affairs of that
nation in the year 1853, was his solicitude respecting
the Holy Places, so called, in Palestine, and also con-
cerning the condition of those subjects of the Sultan
who belonged to the Greek church. Regarded
throughout all the Russias with an almost religious
reverence, as the great defender of that church, he
claimed the right to extend his protection o^er its
members living under a Mohammedan sovereign.
RUSSIAN AGGRESSIONS. 43 1
The disputes between himself and the Sublime Porte
early attracted the attention of the prominent nations
of Europe. The Western States properly regarded
the independence of Turkey as essential to the main-
tenance of the political equilibrium of Europe. This
independence was now seriously assailed by Russia.
Early in the history of the dispute, a French official
journal contained an article, attributed to the pen of
Louis Napoleon himself, in which it was maintained
that France was desirous that the treaties of 1815
should be upheld, and that the Czar should be pre-
vented from seizing upon Constantinople, as that act
would be inconsistent with the balar-.ce of power
established by those and subsequent treaties. The
article plainly intimated that France would be found
with the other powers, resisting the pretensions of
Nicholas. Meanwhile the combined fleets of England
andFrance in the Mediterranean were moved to within
striking distance of the probable scene of conflict.
An attempt upon the life of the French Emperor
was made on the 4th of July, 1853. He was to at-
tend the opening of the Opera Comique. Three men
stationed themselves at the door, by which he was to
outer the building. When ordered to withdraw, they
refused. Several others joined them in resisting the
police, but they were all surrounded and captured.
They were found to be well armed. Thirty -three
persons in all were arrested ; and on the trial the dis-
covery was made of the existence of secret societies
organized for the purpose of assassinating the Emperor
and proclaiming the Republic. One of the parties
had agreed to shoot him on a given signal, and sue-
432 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAB.
ceeded, on the occasion referred to, in getting within
three feet of him, but did not fire simply because the
signal was not made. Almost the entire number
were found guilty, and sentenced to imprisonment and
banishment for periods varying from three to eight
years.
Meanwhile, affairs in the East became more com
plicated and threatening. The original grounds of
dispute between Turkey and Russia began to be lost
sight of in the greater scheme of attack evidently
meditated by the Czar, upon the integrity of the Ot-
toman Empire, and thus upon the general peace of
Europe. England and France maintained that they
were bound by treaties to uphold the independence
of the Sultan. They announced their intention to act
according to the purport of those treaties. Diplomatic
notes, filled with skillful pleas, explanations, and ar-
guments, passed constantly between the different
parties to the strife. Recriminations also were not
lacking. Russia then, having concentrated troops -
upon her southern frontier, ordered them to take post
in the Danubian provinces. It was claimed on her
part that this was not intended as an act of war, but
merely as a means of obtaining material guarantees,
until the Ottoman government should yield to the
demands which had been urged for the past tw^
years. Some 80,000 Russian troops, therefore, en-
tered Moldavia and Wallachia. The French and
English combined squadrons were at the same time
drawing nearer to Constantinople, and the represen-
tatives of these governments were encouraging the
Sultan with their counsels and promises. By the
OUTBREAK OF HOSTTLITIBB. 433
advice of his allies the Snltan agreed not to considei
the occupation of the provinces as a sufficient reason
for war, while they in the meantime exerted them-
selves to bring about an amicable settlement of the
affair. Austria offered her services as a mediator,
and a conference of the great powers of Europe was
held at Vienna, which drew up a series of proposi-
tions as the basis of an adjustment. This basis was
accepted by Russia, for it admitted substantially
what the Czar had claimed.
But it was rejected by the Sultan, as making the
very concessions to which he had persistently ob-
jected. The Sultan very properly required that the
Ilussian troops should withdraw from the principali-
ties they had invaded, and declared his determination
to commence hostilities unless this demand was
promptly acceded to. With a refusal to comply, the
war commenced. Between the 28th of October and
the 4th of November, four bodies of Turkish troops,
the strongest of which consisted of 18,000, crossed the
Danube at different points. Though warmly resisted,
the Turks established themselves on the north side of
the river. When the news of the passage of tht
Danube was received in Constantinople, the English
and French Ambassadors .ordered twelve vessels of
the combined squadron into the iSosphorus.
A naval engagement on the Black ISea took place
on the 30th of November, in which the Turks acted
bravely but suffered severely. A small Turkish fleet,
convoying a number of transports laden with mate-
rials of war for the coast of Cin.-us.s ; a, was chased into
the harbor of Sinope. The Russian Heet !' lli.wc.d,
S 518
434 TUB EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAB.
and succeeded in destroying three frigates, one steant
frigate, two schooners, and three transports. The in-
telligence of this affair created great excitement in
Paris and London. The French Emperor was espe-
cially indignant, and declared his intention to act with
energy in resisting the aggressions of Russia.
The war actually going on between Russia and
Turkey, efforts, however, were still made by England,
France, Austria, and Prussia, to secure a satisfactory
peace. At the same time extensive preparations were
making by the two former nations for active measures
of assistance to Turkey. On the 30th of December,
the French minister for Foreign Affairs addressed a
note to the different French legations in Europe, in-
tended to define the actual condition of the contro-
versy, and the line of conduct which France and Eng-
land would pursue. He reviewed the course of
Russia, showed how much Turkey had borne, and
how sincere had been the efforts of the European
powers for peace, how cautious they had been to
avoid any collision, and how reasonable were their
requirements that Russia should act with like caution
and moderation. He maintained that the affair of
Sinope had disappointed their expectations, and had
obliged the allied powers to assume a new attitude.
They had, therefore, decided that their squadrons
should enter the Black Sea. and so operate as to pre-
vent the territory or the flag of the Sultan from being
the object of any fresh attack on the part of the naval
forces of Russia. The allied squadrons accordingly
entered the JBlack Sea, forming a fleet of fourteen
English, twelve French, and live Turkish vessels of
FRANCE AND ENGLAND DECLARE WAB.
war. On the Danube, new successes were achieved
by the Turks.
On the 29th of January, the Emperor of the French
addressed an autograph letter to the Emperor of
Russia, going over the same ground which had been
reviewed in the note of his minister, and making final
propositions of a pacific character. The letter closed
by quoting from the C/ar's letter of a year previous,
his protestation that their relations ought to be sin-
cerely amicable, and to repose on the same intentions,
the maintenance of order, love of peace, respect for
treaties, and reciprocal benevolence ; " that pro-
gramme," said Louis Napoleon, " is worthy of the
sovereign who traced it, and I do not hesitate to af-
firm that I have remained firm to it." This letter
was regarded rather as a manifesto to the French
nation than as an appeal to the Czar. The Emperor
of Russia replied to it, skillfully defending his own
course, and expressing his reliance upon God and on
his right in the conflict about to ensue.
The Legislative body, at its session in March, voted
iMianimously a bill to authorize a loan of two hundred
and fifty millions of francs for the unusual expenses
of the approaching war. The whole body waited upon
the Emperor to present him with the vote, in order
u to render still more striking in the eyes of Europe
tiie testimony it offers to the Emperor of its entire
confidence and most resolute concurrence." The for-
mal opening of the war was made by a declaration to
the Chambers, the 27th of March, that the final resolu-
tion of the cabinet of St. Petersburg!! had placed l tus-
eia in a state of war with respect to France, Tb,
136 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAJL
Chambers pledged the support of the nation to thj
government in carrying on the war. On the 10th of
April a convention was signed by the representatives
of France and England, in which it was agreed that
the two nations entered into alliance offensive and
defensive for the reestablishment of peace on a dura-
ble basis. The contingent of French troops first sent
to the east was agreed to be from 50,000 to 100,000
men.
On the 22d of April, a squadron of five English ana
three French steamers bombarded the town of Odes-
sa, on the Black Sea, for several hours, the fire being
warmly returned from the Russian batteries. The
Russian vessels in port were burned or sunk, the bat-
teries silenced, and the establishments of the admi-
ralty destroyed.
During the summer a body of some 11,000 French
troops was takes on board the English and French
fleet for the Baltic, and landed on the 8th of August
near the fortress of Bomarsund. This fortress, and
with it all the Aland Islands, fell into the hands of the
allies, after a regular siege of a few days, on the 16th
of the same month.
On the arrival of the P rench and English troops in
Turkey, they were established for the time in a camp
at Varna. Here the cholera broke out during the
summer, and committed fearful ravages, especially
among the French regiments.
The Emperor established large camps at home, at
St. Omer and Boulogne. At the latter place, in tht
course of the summer, some 100,000 troops were as-
sembled ; and here a grand military display took
A STEADFAST KEPCBL1CAN. 43?
place, nnder the supervision of the Emperor, for the
entertainment of Prince Albert of England, the King
of Belgium, Pedro, the young King of Portugal, and
other distinguished visitors. The troops from these
camps were transferred to the east, as the demands
of active service required.
An extract from a letter of Barbes, a republican,
who had been in prison since the coup d'etat, was
communicated to the Emperor, in which he said he
craved victory for the French in the war then going
on, and declared that he pitied the republican party
if there were any it who did not rejoice in the military
glory of France. The Emperor immediately ordered
his release from prison, remarking that " a prisoner
who preserves, in spite of long sufferings, such patri-
otic sentiments, should not in his reign remain in
prison." Barbes, instead of being gratified at his re-
lease, refused to accept any favor from one he deemed
a usurper. Having been forcibly removed from
prison, he demanded to be restored ; and this being
unueeded, he immediately went to England.
The military operations toward the close of the
summer began to be more important. The allied
commanders resolved to change the see* J of the
war, and instead of joining the Turks on the Dan-
ube, to make a sudden effort to capture Sebasto-
pol, in the lower part of the peninsula known as the
Crimea. This extensive fortress was the pride of
Nicholas. Upon it he had for years expended vast
sums, in order to render it impregnable by sea or
land ; and this it was claimed to be. Within the har-
bor his large Black Sea fleet could be sheltered,
4SS THK EM PIKE AND THK iU'stjlAN WAR.
while it added to the defenses of the place ; and here
it was now shut up by the superior fleet of the allies.
The camp at Varna, full of dismal rememorances
of inaction, disease, and death, was broken up. A
fleet of three thousand guns and 25,000 seamen, con-
voying over six hundred transport vessels, carried
the army across the Black Sea to the shores of the
Crimea. It was the greatest expedition of the kind
known in the history of war. The landing was ef-
fected in the bay of Eupatoria, about fifty miles to
the north of Sebastopol, on the 14th of September.
1854. No opposition was offered to the landing.
The French troops disembarked numbered 23,000,
and were under command of Marshal de St. Ar-
naud. The English amounted to 27,000, under Lord
.Raglan. They soon extended themselves into the
country, and took up the line of march for the south,
the French on the right, resting on the sea, the Eng-
lish on the left. Moving in this order, the allies
came upon the Russians in a strong position behind the
river Alma, and close to the coast. The night of the
20th was passed a few miles to the north of the Rus-
sian army ; and on the morning of the 21st, the uni-
ted army of French and English moved forward
to make an immediate attempt to force the Russian
position. The Russians were posted on the south side
of the river, on the slopes and tops of a series of ab-
rupt hills. Formidable batteries had been planted
in excellent positions, a trench had been dug in front
of the most important point, and the Russian army,
under the immediate command of Prince Meuschi-
koff, with a front extending two miles, was prepared
RATTMC OF THE AIJVtA.. 4 'J9
to make an obstinate defense. As the allies h;v)
marched, so they attacked the French on the righi
against the Russian left, and the English on the k-t'f
against the Russian right. The plan of attack was t"
outflank the Russians on each extremity of their
line.
The French were first in the battle, their line hav-
ing in the march advanced beyond that of the Eng
lish. Their attack began about half past twelve.
The attacking division was commanded by Genera!
Bosquet. They quickly crossed the river, and were
met by a heavy fire, but in spite of it they clirnl>e>'l
the hills, and established themselves on the Russian
left flank. The work was done in true French style.
Two divisions, under General Canrobert and Prince
Napoleon, soon reinforced them. The artillery was
brought to bear, the troops pressed on, supported by
the second line, and by two o'clock the battle on this
side was won.
The English had approached under greater disad-
vantage, being exposed for a long distance to the
tire of the Russian batteries. Their own artillery
could reply but ineffectually . About one o'clock the
light division, under Sir George Brown, crossed the
river by wading, and rushed up the opposite steep,
under a most destructive fire. Officers and men fell
fast before it. Meanwhile, the second division was
hotly engaged against the Russian center: Fur a
time the terrible fire of the batteries held this divi >
Ion in check. But they only withdrew to re-form,
and then turned upon their assailants who had is-
sued out of the battery and drove them before then 1
440 THK EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAJt.
over the top of the hill. The light division tock thi
battery against which their attack was directed, but
were driven out of it by a large reinforcement of
Russian infantry. The first division, comprising the
choice troops of the army, then took its place, cover-
ing the light division, and allowing it to re-form
Before this new attack, made with genuine British
steadiness and valor, the Russians, after warm resist-
ance, were compelled to retire, leaving the entire po-
sition in the hands of the allies. The Russians left
three generals, three guns, 700 prisoners, and 4,000
wounded behind them. The loss of the allies was
over 600 killed, and about 2,700 wounded. The
British suffered more than the French. Part of the
retreating army went into the interior, and part into
Sebastopol.
Marshal St. Arnaud kept his horse during all the
day, though in very feeble health. In a few days he
resigned his command to General Canrobert, and died
on the voyage home, on the 29th of September.
The way was now open to Sebastopol. The armies
made a detour around the fortress, and posted them-
selves on the south of it. Their general position now
was this : The French on the left, nearest the sea,
and having easy communication with their vessels ;
the English on the right, and of course farther from
the sea, being about six miles from Balaklava, to
which port their siege train and stores were brought
The valley running behind the British position, and
extending to Balaklava, was defended immediately
by some redoubts, in which a few Turkish troopa
were placed. The Russians under General Liprandi
BATTLE OP rXRKHMAyN. 4-1:1
and 30,000 strong, issuing from the city, took pos-
session of the upper end of this valley, and menaced
the British rear, and their connection with their sea-
port. On the 25th of October, Liprandi attacked
in large force, drove the Turks from the redoubts, and
advanced down the valley toward Balaklava. The
93d regiment, Highlanders, successfully repulsed one
division of the Russians, while the British cavalry
charged upon and broke up another. An attempt,
made by the light cavalry under the Earl of Cardigan
to retake the guns which the Russians were carrying
oft' from the redoubts, brought this corps under the
full tire of the Russian army, by which it was fear-
fully cut up and almost entirely destroyed. The next
day seven or eight thousand of the enemy sallied out of
Sebastopol, and made another attack upon the English
right. This was successfully repulsed. In both these
actions portions of the French army came to the aid
of the English. The losses were heavy on both
sides.
On the 5th of November a still moic formidable
effort was made by the Russians agairat the extreme
right of the British, the weak point of the whole line,
and not as yet properly defended by earth-works and
artillery. Large reinforcements had arrived in Sebas-
topol. Strong columns undercover v>f a fog were con
ceutrated on the British right, and e irly in the niorn-
iug began pouring up the slope, bringing with them
over ninety pieces of artillery. The British troopa
hurried to the defense of their assailed position, but
were at first repeatedly borne back by overwhelming
inassoe and a withering fire. They held the whole
442 rriK EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAR.
Russian force in check, however, until at length two
oattaiions of French infantry, comprising the famous
Zouaves from Algeria, came to the support of their
allies, and the Russians were driven back into tin:
valley with immense loss. The enemy far outnum-
bered the allied troops engaged, and nothing but tue
stubborn firmness of the British kept the importau
position from being forced. In this fierce and bloody
action the English had over 400 killed and 1, ( J(/0
wounded ; the French over 1,700 killed and wounded.
The Russian loss was stated at nearly 3,000 killed am.!
over 5,000 wounded.
The expedition to the Crimea began now to assume
a greater magnitude than those who planned it had
imagined. Constant reinforcements were required to
make good the losses from these various battles, and
to place the assailants in a proportionate superiority
to the besieged. The French army at home and
abroad had been raised to 580,000 men, and 113,000
horses. The navy contained 62,000 sailors. Beside
this, a levy of 140,000 men was demanded by the Em-
peror. He also demanded a hew loan for these ex-
traordinary expenses. These requisitions were made
upon the Legislative body, which met on the 26th of
December, and was opened by the Emperor in a
speech much praised for its eloquence and dignity.
His wishes were mot. The levy was ordered, and a
new loan of five hundred million francs was author-
ized and promptly taken, it was said that (live
times the sum required was offered to the government,
In his speech the Emperor said : " Our arms have been
victorious m the Baltic and the Black Soa. Two
THE SIEGE 445
great battles have shed luster upon our flag. A stri-
king testimony has proved the intimacy of our rela-
tions with England. The British Parliament has vo-
ted thanks to our generals and soldiers. A great
empire, reinvigorated by the chivalrous spirit of its
sovereign, has separated itself from the power which
for forty years has menaced the independence of
Europe."
The proper siege of the great fortress of southern
Russia went on slowly during the autumn of 1854.
The labor of bringing the heavy guns and mortars
into position on the slopes, commanding the southern
and main works of the enemy, was immense. The
rains rendered the plateaus and the valleys an expanse
of mud. The bleak winds found the troops unprovi-
ded with adequate shelter. The mortality among
them was excessive and alarming. The French suf-
fered less than the English and the Turks. The mill
tary system of the former was more thoroughly and
wisely organized, and the troops were more accus
tomed to camp life.
The siege opened on the 9th of October. The tire<
batteries of the English were established at such a <ii>
tance that their fire produced very little impression .
The French, from the nature of the ground which
they occupied, had been able to open their trencher
at a much nearer point. The effect of their fire,
however, was so slight that the speedy production of
a breach through which the place might be assaulted
was very improbable. The besieging armies kept
making their approaches with great steadiness, gradu-
ally bringing their guns nearer to the enemy's works
441 THE EMPIBE AUD THB BUBSULN WAK.
The fortress was skillfully, zealously and bravely de-
fended. Being invested only upon the southern side,
reinforcements of men, ammunition and provisions
could be introduced without interference both by
land around the head of the bay, and by water from
The north side of the harbor. The immense arsenals,
and the ships of war, now lying useless in the harbor,
supplied the guns to replace those disabled or to be
mounted upon the new defenses constantly construct-
3d. Frequent sorties were made by the garrison,
directed chiefly against the French positions. The
Russians, as would naturally be the case, suffered
more in these attacks than their assailants did. The
3ntire winter, however, was consumed without mak-
ing any important progress toward the reduction of
the formidable fortress. The Russians in some por-
tions of their line of defense contracted their works ;
in other places they boldly pushed them out so as se-
riously to check the operations of the besiegers, and
even to threaten their positions. A young engineei
officer of remarkable energy and genius, Todleben,
had been appointed to the task of superintending the
defensive works. And to his superior talent, and the
enthusiasm with which he inspired the army, must be
ascribed in a great degree the long and admirable
defense of the place against the mighty engines of
warfare which the allies were able to bring against
it. He originated and carried out a system of earth-
works, in some places exterior to and in others within
the original defenses. When the original masonry
towers and redoubts were knocked to pieces by the
THE SIEGE DEATH OF NICHOLAS. 445
storm of large shot from the monstrous batteries of the
allies, these works rose as by magic in their stead.
Throughout the winter the troops suffered exceed
ingly in their bleak position on the hills. This was
especially the case with the English soldiers ; for the
array system of that government, in the midst of the
crisis, proved cumbrous, and totally insufficient for the
demands made upon it. Through the fault of officials
the army dwindled away fearfully, and its very spirit
was seriously menaced. Thus passed the gloomy and
fatal winter. With spring came hope and life. Fresh
Droops from France and England, with a contingent
of 15,000 from Sardinia, who had joined the alliance,
und a more complete and formidable siege train,
qualified the allies for a more vigorous assault upon
the fortress which had so long defied them.
In the spring efforts were made for a settlement of
the great controversy, by a conference of the powers
at Vienna ; but after several sessions the ambassadors
separated without coming to any amicable terms. On
the 2d of March, 1855, Nicholas, Emperor of Russia,
died at St. Petersburgh, in the fifty-ninth year of his
age. He was quietly succeeded by his eldest son,
Alexander, who was born in 1818. The new Czar
acquiesced in the policy of his father, and proceeded
to carry out the projects already inaugurated. There
was not even a temporary cessation of the war.
In the month of April, the national alliance was
signalized by a visit of the Emperor and Empress of
France to England. They crossed the channel on
the 16th, and were the guests of the Queen, at Wind-
,or Castle until the 21sf. T.,e imperial visitors were
446 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAK.
received with great enthusiasm in London. Iii pass-
ing through the streets, the Emperor was observed
to point out to his wife the house he had occupied as
a private man and an exile. The city authorities gave
them a public reception in the Guildhall. In reply
to a complimentary address from the Recorder, Na-
poleon observed in part as follows: "England and
France are naturally united on all the great questions
of politics and of human progress that agitate the
world. From the shores of the Atlantic to those of
the Mediterranean from the Baltic to the Black Sea
from the desire to abolish slavery, to our hopes for
the amelioration of all the countries of Europe, 1 see
in the moral as in the political world, for our two na-
tions, but one course and one end. It is, then, only by
unworthy considerations and pitiful rivalries that our
union could be dissevered. If we follow the dictates
of common sense alone, we shall be sure of the future
You are right in interpreting my presence among yn
as a fresh and convincing proof of my energetic co-
operation in the prosecution of the war, if we fail in
obtaining an honorable peace. Should we so fail, al-
though our difficulties may be great, we may surely
count on a successful result; for not only are our
soldiers and sailors of tried valor not only do our two
countries possess within themselves unrivaled re-
sources, but above all and here lies their supe-
riority they are in the van of all generous and
enlightened ideas. The eyes of all who suffer in-
stinctively turn/ to the west. Thus our two cations
are even more powerful from the opinions they rep-
resent than by the armies and fleets they have at
ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. 447
their command." The Qneen of England also during
this visit invested the Emperor with the royal order
of the Garter. The return of the imperial pair to
Paris was welcomed by an enthusiastic popular de-
monstration. The French might well regard this
visit to England as one of the most signal triumphs of
Louis Napoleon.
Shortly after this gratification to his pride and am-
bition, the Emperor was again reminded of the un-
certainty of his power and the constant exposure of
his life. OD the evening of the 28th of April, he left
tho palace in plain clothes, and accompanied by two
of his household officers, to take his usual ride in the
Champs Elysees. Near the Barriere de 1'Etoile, a
\vull-dressed man on the side-walk fired with a pistol
twice, the second ball grazing His Majesty's hat. The
assassin was an Italian, named Pianori, and according
to his own statement, he acted from personal revenge,
having, it was said, served in the Roman Republican
army, which the French troops had destroyed. He
died on the scaffold, making no confession to iinpli
cate any other person or 'party, and with the expres-
sion on his lips, " long live the Republic."
The French Exposition or Palace of Industry, af-
ter the fashion of the celebrated Crystal Palace of
Hyde Park, London, was opened formally on the 15th
of May, by the Emperor and Empress. As a whole,
this Exhibition was very far from equaling its fa-
mous prototype in the British capital.
A change in the office for Foreign Affairs took
place about this time. M. Drouyn de Lhuys resigned,
na the ground, it was supposed, of a difference of
W-8 THE KMPD4B AND TIIK RC8SIAJ* WAR.
views from the Emperor as to the policy of peace.
Count Walewski, a natural son of Napoleon I., and
for some years Ambassador to the Court of St. James
was appointed in his place.
To return to the Crimea and the history of the war
A siege train had been placed in position, near to the
Russian works, such as had never before been collect-
ed in the world. Five hundred pieces of artillery
opened the terrible bombardment on the 9th of April,
and continued it incessantly till the 28th, then ceas-
ing for want of ammunition. Thousands of tons of
iron were hurled against the devoted but obstinate
stronghold. The Russian commander in his dispatch
to his Emperor, w.ell termed it "an infernal fire."
And yet no decided result was effected. The soft
earth-works received the heaviest shot and shell with
but slight damage. Before the next morning the in-
defatigable Russians repaired the injuries of each
day's fire. During the nights also the trenches were
the scene of fierce and bloody encounters. Pits in
which riflemen were concealed, were dug by the Rus-
sians outside of their works, and in places whence an
annoying and destructive fire could be kept up on
the advance works of the allies. For these rifle-pits
the & truggles were furious. Yet slowly and steadily
the allies pushed their works nearer to those of the
enemy, until in some places the cannons were nearly
mouth to mouth.
Some changes had taken place in the arrangements
of the line of attack. The English remained in about
the same relative position, though nearer SebaetopoL
The French still maintained their close attack on the
CAPTURE OF VABIOU8 PLACES. 449
extreme left ; but as their army had been largely in
creased, a new series of approaches had been made on
the right of the English, thus extending the line
farther than at first in that direction. The Sardinians
hail also been posted on the extreme right. General
Oanrobert had resigned the command of the French
forces, on account of his shattered health, and General
Peiissier had been appointed commander-in-chief.
This appointment was a popular one, and was regard-
ed as an indication that the siege would be pushed
with more energy.
In the month of June a detachment of the allied
armies, under command of Sir George Brown, em-
barked and sailed toward the sea of Azoif. This force
took possession of the towns of Kertch and Yeuikale,
the Russians retiring without resistance. Kertch was
an important capture, as it contained a large amount
of ammunition, and a foundry where shot and shell
\v* re made for the supply of Sebastopol. The al-
l.'es also thus gained command of the Sea of Azoff,
and closed this channel for the furnishing of supplies
to the beleaguered fortress. In the vicinity of Sebas-
topol, also, the allies extended their line farther inland.
General Peiissier, in order to meet the expectations
formed regarding his activity and energy, planned
And directed several assaults upon Sebastopol. One
was executed on the 7th of June, after a twenty hours'
cannonade. It was directed principally against a
work, called the Mamelon, which had been erected
since the siege began, for the protection of a more im
portant work, the Malakoff, which was regarded and
proved to be the key to Sebastopol. The French and
45<_> THE KMl'IKi-; i.ND T1IK KU381AJ* WAR.
British moved in parallel columns, and after a severe-
engagement drove the Russians out of the Mamelon
and the .Round Tower, and retained possession.
On the 18th of June, the assault was renewed the
French holding the Mamelon, and from it attack ing
the Malakoif the British assailing the Redan, a work
lying to the right of the Malakoff, and forming, in
fact, an outwork of it. The Malakoff, it must be ob-
served, lay to the right of the British, and in front of
that part of the French army which now formed the
right of the general line of attack. Three heavy col
unms of French infantry marched upou this formida
bio battery a fortress in itself. They were all beaten
back with dreadful slaughter. Neither did the Eng-
lish attack upon the Redan operate as an effectual
diversion in favor of the French main assault, as was
hoped. The loss to the allies was very severe. The
French, however, vigorously pushed their trenches
still nearer to the Malakoff, in preparation for another
assault.
Lord Raglan died on the 28th of June, after a few
days' illness. General Simpson succeeded him in
the chief command of the British forces.
The Legislative Assembly of France met on the 2d
of July. Bills were readily passed, authorizing anoth-
er war loan of seven hundred and fifty million of
francs, and a levy of 140,000 men for the army.
A visit of the Queen of England to Paris was made
in the month of August. She left London on the 18th,
and reached Paris the same day. The Emperor re
ceived her in person at Boulogne. The Queen was
welcomed with great cordiality aud enthusiasm bv
BATTLE OF TCHERNAYA. 45)
tn French, and a great variety of public displays
was made for her amusement.
Toward the close of the summer of 1855, the great
contending powers in the Crimea were maneuvering
for a final desperate struggle. The Russians foum!
the lines of the besiegers drawn more and more closel v
around them. They made one more great effort to
break up the siege by an attack upon the more ex-
posed right flank of their foes, which had been extend-
ed to the vicinity of the river Tchernaya. The at
tack was directed by Prince Gortschakoif in person,
who brought to the charge over 50,000 men, with one
hundred and sixty pieces of artillery and 6,000 cavalry
This host was met by 30,000 French and Sardinian;
together. The battle was fought on the 16th of Au-
gust, and lasted several hours, during which the Rus
sians repeatedly sought with desperate bravery to force
the allies from their position. They were repulsed,
with a loss estimated at 5,000 ; while the allies did
not lose half that number.
The Russians now began to prepare for the evacu-
ation of Sebastopol. They constructed a floating
bridge to the north side of the harbor, over which
they removed great quantities of munitions and sup-
plies. The allies, meanwhile, arranged for another
assault upon the Malakoft'. The French lines were
close to it. An active bombardment throughout tur
whole long line was kept up from the .Sth of Septem-
ber to the 8th. At noon precisely on the 8th, tin
French assaulting columns, to the amount of 30,00'.
Tien, began pouring out of the trenches, and rushing
to "ard the Malakotf with the greatest impetuosity,
THE EMPIRE &OT5 THE RUSSIAN WAJL
The intervening space was quickly cleared, aLd the*
in close quarters within the formidable work itself
the struggle went on. The French reinforcements
crowded on to the aid of their companions, while from
the other side of the MalakofF, the Russian troops
poured up in great masses to the defense. The fight
for an hour was furious, and then the Russians gave
way and abandoned the work. The French also took
what was termed the Little Redan, but they were ex-
posed to so severe a h're in it, that they withdrew.
Batteries were planted, which poured a storm of shot
and shell down upon the Russian ships of war in the
harbor, setting fire to several of them.
Meanwhile, the British attack upon the Great Re-
dan had been going on. The distance between their
trenches and this work was considerable. The as-
Banking column was consequently exposed to a de-
structive fire immediately on leaving their own cover.
Many men and officers fell before this space was
crossed. The assailants, however, effected a lodg-
ment in an angle of the work, where for a long time
they resisted the efforts of a large body of Russians
to drive them out, and waited in vain for reinforce
ments. The enemy, driven by the French from the
Malakoff, pressed in overwhelming numbers upon the
British in the Redan, and finally compelled them to
withdraw. The attack on this point was a failure;
and nowhere else along the line was any serious ef-
fort made, as it was plain that the Malakoff was the
key to the fortress.
This final assault cost the allies abont ten thousand
men in killed and wounded During the night fo]
TALL OF SEBASTOPOL.
lowing the fall of the Maiakoff, the Russians axpioded
mines under various fortifications, and withdiew their
entire army to the north side of the harbor. The al-
lies were slow to penetrate into the city, fearing the
explosion of mines made by the enemy. Gradually,
however, they took possession of the various parts of
the stronghold, for which they had so long contended,
[mmense stores of cannon, powder, shot, and all ma-
terials for war, were found in Sebastopol. The Rus-
>ian commander admitted the loss of from 500 to 1,000
men a day during the last month of the siege. The
allies promptly planted batteries, and opened a fire
upon the north side of the harbor, while the enemy
went regularly to work to strengthen the forts on that
side by exterior earth-works, showing readiness to
endure another siege. The allies also entered upon
the work of destroying: the magnificent docks, arse-
nals, and various establishments which had been ne-
cessary to make Sebastopol a great naval depot. The
Russians had in the outset sunk enough of their large
.hips of war across the mo.uth of the harbor to make
the entrance impracticable. The remainder had been
ourned and sunk when they evacuated the city.
An expedition, consisting of 15,000 French and
1,000 British troops, was embarked at Balaklava, and
on the 15th of October successfully bombarded the
fortress of Kinburn, the garrison of 1,500 men surren-
dering as prisoners of war. This movement wai
made in order to open the way to an attack upon cer-
tain important interior towns.
The approach of winter put a stop to operations bj
sea or land. The Russians made one more fold at
454 TH* KMPIKS TDK RUSSIAN
tadi apon tho allies ; but few were engaged IB it, th
losses were small, and the results nothing. They
kept up a heavy cannonade upon the south side of
the harbor, to which the allies made little reply.
Both parties tacitly agreed to wait for more genial
weather for active operations, or to eee what might
be the issue of the rumors of peace.
On the llth of January, a grand council of war,
^resided over by the French Emperor, and composed
of the prominent military men ot the allies, met in
Paris, to enlighten the governments upon the state,
the exigencies, and the issues of the war. During the
winter Sweden also joined the allies. A portion of
the French troops returned from the Crimea was
warmly received in Paris, and the Emperor addressed
them as follows : " I have recalled you, though the
war be not terminated, because it is only just to re
lieve in their turn the regiments which have suffered
most Each will thus be able to take his share in
glory, and the country, which maintains 600,OOC
soldiers, has an interest in maintaining in France a
numerous and experienced army, ready to march
wheresoever necessity may requiie. Preserve, then,
carefully the habits of war, and fortify yourselves in
the experience you have already acquired."
While the armies in the Crimea were rendered in
active by the winter, Austria, with the consent of
France and England, again made certain propositions
to Russia ; which propositions were deemed the ulti-
matum of the allies. The Czar accepted thesb propo-
sitions, u as the basis of negotiations." In the latter
past of February, the plenipotentiaried of France,
TREATY OF PEACK. 455
England, Austria, Russia, Sardinia and Turkey, a-
Bembled in Paris, and on the 30th of March, 1856, th
treaty of peace was signed. It was subsequently
ratified by all the governments. It consisted of
thirty-four articles, embracing the following impor-
tant points: All territories occupied during the war
were restored. Turkey was admitted to the political
system of Europe, and her indepencence was guaran-
teed; the Black Sea was neutralized, and ships of
war of all nations forbidden to enter it, with certain
unimportant exceptions, trade in it also being free ;
Turkey and Russia agreed to maintain no military
maritime arsenals on the coast of the Black Sea ; the
Sultan conceded the equal rights of all Christians in
his dominions. The treaty gave great satisfaction in
France. The Czar also claimed that he had obtained
all he had sought; though his satisfaction can hardly
be understood, when it is remembered that his entire
naval power in the Black Sea was destroyed, and he
was prohibited from ever reestablishing it. In Eng-
land the peace did not give so great satisfaction among
all classes ; there was a general feeling that the mili-
tary honor and glory of Britain had been damaged by
the war, and that the political importance of the ad-
ministration had been made subordinate to the am-
) '-i2on and influence of the French Emperor. The
war undoubtedly added not only to the glory of the
French arms, but to the importance of Louis Napo-
leon in the political affairs of Europe. His power waa
greatly augmented by this struggle with the Colossus
of the North. By his policy France was placed for th
time at the head of European nations. His thronn
456 THE EMPIRE AND THE RUSSIAN WAS.
was strengthened, and the forces of opposition -vi itida
and without the nation were weakened and scattered.
France sent in all to the Crimea during this war
about 200,000 men, of whom it was estimated that
60,000 were lost, including those killed and wounded in
battle, or who died or were disabled by disease. Eng-
land lost in similar ways about 22,000 ; while Count
Orloff, the Russian Plenipotentiary, is said to have ad-
mitted in Paris that the loss on the part of Russia
was about 500,000 men.
The hopes of the Emperor of France, and of those
desiring the continuance of his dynasty, were greatly
gratified by the birth of a son on the 14th of March,
during the sessions of the peace congress in Paris.
The circumstances of this event were all arranged
with that particularity and pomp which pertain by
custom to such important affairs in reigning families.
Paris was made gay with the rejoicings and displays
of the occasion. The name given to the heir of the
throne was Napoleon-Louis-Eugene-Jean-Joseph. As
the heir of the first Napoleon was entitled King of
Rome, so this child received the title of King of
Algeria.
The Emperor, rendered good-humored and cleuieut
by HO promising an event, offered an amnesty to - al]
political exiles who would return and take the oath
of allegiance.
One Orsini attempted to blow up the Emperor by
throwing bombs under his carriage. Such attempts
seemed to add to his popularity with the people.
FRENCH IN MEXICO. 4ST
The Italians had made several heroic but unsuc-
cessful attempts to throw off the power of Austria.
Their leader was the gallant Victor Emanuel.
The Emperor Napoleon found some pretexts for join-
ing forces with the Italians. Having a finely appoint-
ed and large army he fought several very sanguinary
battles with the foe of Italy. Among the more fa-
mous was the greatly celebrated Quadrilateral. The
four fortresses of Mantua, Leguano, Peschiera, and
Verona possessed such a strategetical position as to ren-
der the enclosed space impregnable. But they were
all forced to surrender to the Italians and French.
These fortresses formed the line of defence of Venetia,
and were ceded to that state, by the French-Austrian
treaty of Oct. 3, 1866. The war ended, a treaty was
executed at Villefranca, by which all the Italian duch-
ies fell to Sardinia. France received Nice and some
other places for her services. It was soon after that
Napoleon recognized Victor Emanuel as King of Italy.
China having given umbrage to some of the Euro-
pean powers, by non-fulfilment of treaties, France
once more joined forces with England. Their united
warlike expeditions resulted in the capture of the cap-
ital of China, and the destruction of some of th most
splendid palaces in Pekin. After which the Chinese
signed an enforced treaty. Cochin-China was treated
in much the same manner, by Napoleon about the
same time.
Mexico being largely in arrears to French, English
and Spanish money lenders, Napoleon had the address
to win England and Spain into a joint attack upon
that nation. Before long Spain and England became
convinced that Napoleon had designs of his own, and
they withdrew from the compact. The French Empe-
ror proceded with his design. His troops on several
fields defeated the Mexicans. Maximillian, a worthy
Prince of the Austrian imperial family was crowned
Emperor of Mexico. Napoleon, soon after, being re-
monstrated with by the United States, withdrew his
French troops. Maximillian was shot, and his wife
became hopelessly insane. When, in 1863, a Polish
insurrection made kingly thrones totter in Europe,
458 DEATH OF NAPOLEON III.
Napoleon tried to unite the monarchs in a sort of de'
fensive league. The attempt failed, however.
The inglorious war against Mexico, and his
strange apathy, while Prussia was bringing Austria to
her knees, were greatly diminishing his popularity.
Apparently with the intention of regaining it, he be-
gan to loosen the reins of authority, and gave much
more liberty of expression and action to his people.
He, also, voluntarily submitted to the people the ques-
tion of his governmental acts. Immense majorities
implied that the French people were satisfied with his
rule. A plot to assassinate the Emperor was discov-
ered in April, 1870. It was frustrated.
The most momentous act of his life occurred in
1870, when he declared war against Prussia, or rather,
against Germany. For by this time the astute Bis-
mark had succeeded in establishing a confederation
of nearly all the states of that powerful, but previously
disjointed country. England made an offer to medi-
ate between France and Prussia, but her offer was de^
clined. Large French armies hurriedly marched to
cross the Rhine. But before they could leave theii 1
own soil, they found themselves faced by German
troops, led by the great General Von Moltke. A
month of battles followed. Nearly everyone of which
resulted in favor of the Germans. Indeed the
French showed scarcely any martial quality except
courage. The "Star" of the Second Empire went
down at Sedan. This battle was won by the Germans.
The army capitulated. The Emperor became a pris-
oner, and was borne as a captive into German territo-
ry. Here he received kingly treatment from his cap-
tors. He was subsequently released and proceeded to
England. Here he met his wife, Eugenie. After the
Sedan defeat the Empire was 'overthrown, and the
Empress had sought refuge behind the chalky cliffs that
had so often sent navies and armies to combat to the
death with all who bore the name of Bonaparte.
Napoleon III died on the pth of January, 1873, at
Chiselhurst, in England.
The least culpable of all that ever bore the name
of Bonaparte was the son of Napoleon and Eugenie
PRINCE NAPOLEON. 459
the Prince Imperial, who appeared only to have lived
and died "to point a moral and adorn a tale." His
mother having made England her home where it is
but right to say that this family in its misfortunes
has been treated with a noble hospitality and the
young scion of emperors went for his military educa-
tion to the British Army Academy.
Here he displayed considerable ability. He proved
an apt scholar, and acquired an excellent soldierly ed-
ucation. When he stood on the threshold of manhood,
he tired of inglorious ease, and notwithstanding the
natural objections of his mother, Eugenie, he solicited
and obtained permission to join a British corps, as a
volunteer, destined to fight against the Zulus, in Afri-
ca. Here he displayed a good deal of ability as an
engineer officer. But with more courage than discre-
tion he ventured too far in the advance, and his small
escort was cut down, and he himself slain, in 1879.
To close this truly strange eventful history, it only
remains to write that his mother who dearly loved
him made a pilgrimage to the spot where he fell, and
brought his remains to England. There they repose
beside the father whose actions fill a vast space in the
annals of the world.
Only one of this great family remains alive. That
is, if we allow any legality to the infamous act of Na-
poleon I, by which he sought to throw the shadow of
illegitimacy apon the"American" Bonapartes,(the child-
ren of his brother Jerome by that brother's wife, Miss
Paterson.) The one we allude to is the cousin of Na-
poleon III. He is officially styled Prince Napoleon,
but popularly known as Pon-plon. His father was
Jerome, brother of Napoleon I; his mother the Prin-
cess of Wurtemburg. He married Clotilde, daughter
of Victor Emanuel. No action of his life has lifted
him into historical significance.
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