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. anf 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, 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. Lf 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 clour 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 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 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 thinr 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 Vauht. 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, 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 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 ueorghese, 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 caimv\ 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 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 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 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. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.